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sarah-bae-maas · 3 years

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Gwyn is Ready to Have More from Azriel

I’m trash for them, okay? And I will simply not apologise for it. Can we all agree that their ship name is Gywnriel?

Masterlist Ao3

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For months now, all that had been between them were tentative touches, kisses that would end before they could become too heated. Gwyn appreciated it deeply. The time Azriel had given to her, the steps they had taken together took her to places she thought she’d never reach. She still remembered the way she shook when he first held her hands, and now she was bedazzled with daily reminders of his feelings for her.

She smiled at him. He was seated next to Cassian, the two males shirtless and sprawled on the floor after training discussing how they might seduce Mor into taking on her own class of novices. They would’ve asked Rhys or Feyre, but between all their ruling duties, Feyre’s art classes and little Nyx, they barely had time to breath.

Az saw her look and smiled back, the shadows clinging to his hands disappearing as he looked at her. It made her cheeks go red to see it, and she couldn’t help but gaze down at his beautiful abdomen, the powerful muscles nothing short of wondrous. Being near him, and having him want her, made her feel powerful too. But the age-old fear always crept in before things went too far.

“Cassian and I are heading into Velaris for lunch, would you like to join?” Nesta asked her, her eyes glinting as she looked at Gwyn and knew exactly what she was thinking. “Az will likely come, and he’ll fly you down.”

“Thank you, but I’ll let you and Cassian enjoy yourselves.” Gwyn touched the pendent at her throat, the stained glass hidden beneath her leathers. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Of course. Morrigan will get Emerie in the afternoon, and Cassian is making himself scarce.”

“He doesn’t need to do that!” Gwyn didn’t want him thinking he couldn’t spend time with them when they all stayed together at the House. Gwyn trusted Cassian as much as she could any man, and loved that her dearest friend had found a male who loved and cared for her so very much. Seeing them together is what gave her the courage to approach Azriel after months of shy glances and quiet conversations.

“He wants to give us our privacy. He’ll have dinner with us, and then I think he plans on stealing Nyx.” Nesta smiled at the thought of her mate and a baby, and Gwyn couldn’t blame her. There was just something about a deadly warrior caring for something so vulnerable that set her evolutionary instincts on fire.

Before Gwyn had the chance to reply, the man of the hour approached them, holding out a hand to both of them to help them up. They stood, Nesta stepping into him and resting her chin on his chest, peering up at him with unbridled admiration.

Cassian said his goodbye to Gwyn, pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek in farewell. She didn’t blush, used to it by now. One of the things she liked most was little kisses to her cheeks and forehead, the main perpetrators of the act being Emerie and Nesta. The kisses didn’t speak of the violence she’d endured, but rather of how much her friends loved her. Friendship was an intimacy she craved outside of anything else, and she’d nearly cried the first time Nesta had kissed the top of her head, her friend hugging her after a particularly bad scalding in the library.

Nesta and Cassian left, leaving Gwyn alone with Azriel. He grinned at her the moment they had peace. He walked over, his steps hurried as if he couldn’t wait to be near her. He placed his lovely hands on her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.

“A veritable Valkyrie,” he said.

“You give me too much praise.”

“I could never say enough kind things about you.”

She kissed the tip of his nose, happy to be in his arms.

***

Gwyn laid alone in her room, the single bed not big enough for all that she was feeling. She had spent nearly her entire lunch break kissing Azriel, but it had gone no further. But she’d wanted more. Needed more. She couldn’t stop thinking of the way his lips had touched her neck, or how his hands were so steady on her waist. She was half tempted to beg him to clutch her harder, to grab her in other more sensitive areas, but she didn’t know how to ask. Az was respectful to a fault. Well, no, not a fault, she loved how patient and gentle he was with her. But it meant he would never ask for more, or take more, fearful that he might spook her.

She squeezed her thighs at the thought of him, her hand idly running up and down her stomach. There had been a few times, in her rare moments of privacy, that she had taken Nesta’s advice and explored herself before having another touch her. She had scarcely in her youth, but she’d been a fumbling teen who didn’t understand what to touch to make it feel good.

As always, her thoughts drifted to him, and as she inched up her dress…

The door opened, the two other acolytes she bunked with going to bed early. Gwyn managed to snatch her hand away, but it was painfully obvious what she was about to do.

She rolled to her side and tried to suppress a groan, her fellow acolytes giggling under their breath.

Wanting to clear her head, she got up and feigned going to the bathroom, instead going into the bowels of the library. Most people were still at dinner, and she made a wide berth from the hallways that led to their dining hall. She wasn’t sure where to go. She could keep studying, although it wasn’t an appealing thought, or maybe she could go to the heart of the House and let it sneak her treats and tea.

Instead, she found herself walking until she was in the training ring. She hadn’t bothered putting shoes on. She loved the way the cool stone felt beneath her feet – like it was centring her. She would have been content to stay here forever, pitch a tent and claim this spot as hers. This was the spot she found her sisters, Nesta and Emerie. This is where she became strong, where she started tackling the demons that haunted her at night. This is where the elusive man that saved her that fateful day at the temple became a friend, and then more. Yes, she could have stayed here forever with the breeze caressing her face and the stars winking in greeting.

She heard a creak to the left and turned, worrying an acolyte might have followed her out. Instead, she saw the usually locked entry to the House open, warm and welcoming light spilling from its threshold. One to take a hint, she walked inside. She couldn’t hear Nesta or Cassian, but they had long put silencing wards on each room. She looked around the entryway, and another door opened to her left, leading her down the grand staircase and into a hallway. Once again, all the doors were shut, but as her feet touched the landing one opened, Gwyn knowing it to be the study. Going where the House was prompting her, she caught Azriel curiously staring at the door, trying to make it shut when it wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t think you’ll have much luck. It seems the House wanted me here.”

She revelled in his small gilt of surprise, an honour that he let his composure down enough around her for her to see any sort of emotion.

“Gwyn, what are you doing here?” His tone, not accusatory in the slightest, sent a shock through her stomach.

He looked… different in the dark. Of course she’d seen him in the night, whether it be in the city or over a meal with Cassian and Nesta, but never alone in a room lit only by scattered candles. His beauty was different like this, his face a marble sculpture carved by the most brilliant artists, his hair silken black, his eyes the night sky between the spirits on Starfall.

“Is this your study?” She ignored his question, entering the room. The door closed behind her, and she felt a sudden absence in the room, as if the House had given them some privacy.

“It is, I forbade Nesta and Cassian from coming in here a year ago. I didn’t want them tarnishing my stuff,” he laughed.

She swallowed hard, her hands clasped in front of her.

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you okay?”

She paused before she answered, not quite knowing what to say. It’s not like she could go oh, Azriel, don’t mind me, I just think my horniness was so palpable the House wrapped you as a gift and planted you in my lap.

Instead, she took a step forward, close enough to place her hands on his chest.

“I’ve been having thoughts,” she murmured, not looking him in the eyes. His hands came to rest over hers, and she was embarrassed at the fluttering in them he must feel.

“What kind of thoughts?”

Her breath shuddered. She pressed her face into the space between their hands, not able to bear the look on his face. “We’ve been taking things so slowly, and I’m so grateful that the little I’ve been able to offer you has been enough.”

“Gwyn.” His voice trembled. “Whatever you can give, whether it’s an ounce or nothing, I would happily take.”

“But what if I wanted to take?” One of her hands snaked around his neck. “What if I wasn’t ready for everything, but couldn’t get the thought of you touching me out of my head?”

It was his turn to shudder, but he didn’t move an inch. He just let her explain. She pressed herself into him harder, her face reddening when she felt what her words were doing to him. She dared peek down, his arousal present and obvious. It made her mouth water.

“Whatever you want, you can have. Just tell me.” He hands left hers, moving until they were on her waist and he could draw her nearer again. When she was close enough, his index finger landed on her chin, titling her head until he could look into her eyes. She saw fire in them, practically glowing with want. She knew hers would look the same.

“What do you want, Gwyn?”

Him.

“I want you to take your shirt off.”

And it was done. He didn’t hesitate to do as she asked and didn’t speak as she gingerly ran her fingers up and down his bare chest, letting her feel and press. He was a sight to behold – years of training crafting him into something magnificent. His mind, his body-

She kissed him, letting her hands wander to their desire. She kissed his mouth, his neck, and then steeled herself up to kissing the muscled chest she’d admired for so long. All the while, he ran his hands down her back and up to cup her head, his hands tangling in her hair.

“What do you want, Gwyn?”

“I want to sit on that desk as you kiss me. I want the earth-shattering kisses I read about in books. I don’t want you to hold back. I want to know how everyone else feels.”

He nodded, and before she had a chance to say anything else, his hands were on her thighs and he was lifting her. She gasped as he wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss not breaking as he used one hand to wipe away the paper and knives that littered his workspace. He sat her on his desk, but she tightened her legs around him, wanting him to know she didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.

Her mouth opened for him, and she groaned as his tongue swept in, unhindered by fear. By the Cauldron, she couldn’t believe how much he had been holding back if this was how he kissed her uninhibited. One hand was on her thigh, the other around her waist to keep them close. So close, she dared to move her hips, just a bit, just to see what it would be like to grind against him. He groaned, his lips moving away from her to savour the feeling of her clothed pussy against his concealed length.

He kissed her again, his passion palpable as he held her, and Gwyn thought she could never go back to before. How could she tolerate the sweet, closed mouth presses of his lips when she could have this? When she could have his mouth working hers so hard she could feel herself start to drip?

She ground her hips again, desperate for the friction.

Azriel pulled back, hip lips swollen and his hair in a mess from where she had unconsciously dragged her fingers through it.

“What do you want, Gwyn?”

Her already racing heart faltered. How far did she want to go? She certainly wasn’t ready for sex, but she thought she might die if she didn’t have more of him. She glanced down between them, swallowing hard when she realised truly what she wanted. Knew that the dreams she had in her mind when her hand was between her legs could be a reality if she just asked.

“I want – I want your mouth on me.”

He stood up straight, her shaking legs barely holding on.

“Do you want me to taste you, Gwyn?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I need you to tell me. I need to know you want this.”

“Yes, yes Azriel. Taste me. Devour me.”

He smirked, and he started to lift her dress.

A jolt went through her, a change in mood he felt instantly. He stopped and stepped back, his hands going to behind his back.

Her eyes widened; she didn’t want him to stop – didn’t mean to make him stop.

“You will lick me until I cry your name so loud the people of Velaris can hear me. But my dress stays on,” she ordered breathlessly.

His smile was serpentine, and she felt it like a pinch to the bundle of nerves he would soon head for.

“Yes ma’am.”

He guided her so she was leaning back, and she yelped as he pulled her hips so she was balanced on the edge of the desk. He ran his hands up her dress, up her legs, as he knelt before her like a knight bowing to his queen. Her dress, which would stay on but had ridden up, bunched at her thighs, giving Azriel ample time to explore.

She watched as he peppered kisses to her calves, her knees and then the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her breathing was hitched, and when Az lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders she could have ascended.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered, looking up at her.

Those eyes alone had her feeling a way she’s never experienced. She nodded, whispered her yes.

“If you want to stop, at any time, just tell me. Or kick me. Anything you want. But don’t do something you’re uncomfortable with just because I’m here.” He smoothed over her thighs and pressed a kiss to her wet panties, giving her a tease of what was to come. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll have it.”

He pulled her panties aside and made a wide swipe up her centre, leaving her gasping. His tongue was relentless, but so perfect on her. He had her moaning his name in seconds, and he returned them like the act of pleasuring her was enough for him to find his own. One of her hands stayed in his hair, pulling it with a ferocity that might have pained him, but when she tried to take it away, he snatched at her hand, growling that she can pull it all she wanted. Her other hand went to her breast, feeling like she had to touch the nipples now peeking through her thin dress. Her legs shook in time to his tongue flicking against her clit, and it made a deep ache built between her legs. She moved her hips, unable to stop herself from grinding against his tongue.

His rhythm was better than a royal orchestra – her moans a melody she didn’t think herself capable of. As he continued to feast, the deep ache spread through her stomach and down to her toes, and with one final press of his delicious mouth she screamed his name, gripped onto the desk for support as her back arched and toes curled. His tongue rode her through the orgasm, and it wasn’t until she was whimpering his name that he stopped.

He gently slid her legs off his shoulders. They tremored, the limbs limp jelly in his hands. He hummed in satisfaction, rising to his feet so he could brush the hair from her face. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek, and he leaned forward to kiss it away.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t move away from her, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to walk back to my room.”

Azriel laughed softly, a hoisted her up so he was carrying her like a bride.

“You can stay here.”

“I can’t-”

“In a separate room from me.”

She loved that he knew what she would say before the words even had a chance to form. She may have let him do holy things to her, but she wasn’t ready to share his bed – even if there wasn’t touching involved.

As he carried her, she stared at his beautiful face, awestruck that she might’ve had even just the smallest part of him.

“Thank you, Az.”

“My pleasure.”

#gywnriel #acosf #acosf spoiler #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #feysand #azriel #fanfic #oneshot #smut

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gogglor · 3 years

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Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

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ironwoman359 · 3 years

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You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 4

Navigation: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince, side Moxiety and Dukeceit

Content Warnings (overall): arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst Chapter 4 Warnings: possessive behavior, verbal and physical abuse, angst, allusions to abuse and murder

Word Count: 4067

Read on AO3: here!

A/N: Co-written with @5-falsehoods-phonated, check out his masterlist here and check out mine here!

---

“And when I tried to get down, Remus spooked the pony and it bolted, with me still clinging to the saddle for dear life.”

Virgil snorted, then immediately brought his hand up to cover his smile.

“You wound me!” Roman said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Eight-year-old me was certain that his life was going to end, and you’re laughing?”

“I can’t help that the mental image of you dangling off the saddle of a pony and screaming your head off is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Virgil replied.

“Be nice, Virgil!” Patton scolded, even as he fought back giggles of his own. “I’m sure it was very scary at the time!”

“You’re telling me,” Roman agreed. “I wouldn’t set foot near the stables for a month.”

“I can’t believe that after all that you somehow grew up to be a competent rider,” Virgil said.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my older brother Remy. He started taking me with him when he went out on his rides; I felt a lot safer riding double with him than I did by myself.”

“Your brothers sound wonderful,” Patton said, smiling.

“Oh, they’re the absolute worst,” Roman said. “But also I love them more than anyone.”

“I hope we’ll get to meet them at the wedding!”

Roman’s smile went brittle around the edges, and he forced himself to nod.

“I hope so too,” he said quietly.

Patton’s brow wrinkled, and Roman knew that look, that was Patton’s “I’m worried about you” look, and as much as he had come to view Patton and Virgil as his friends, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to get into the whole “my twin brother ran away from home to escape noble life and I haven’t seen him in years and might never see him again” topic with them just yet.

“Well this has been great,” Virgil cut in suddenly. “But it’s getting close to midday; I need to get back to work, and you need to get to your little lunch date.”

“Excuse you, it is a perfectly professional business meeting!” Roman protested, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure it is. That’s why you meet with Logan every single day and always perk up or get this silly smile on your face whenever you mention something that he said, most of which has nothing to do with business.”

Roman gave Virgil a deadpan look. “Do you really want me to retaliate right now?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Patton.

Virgil’s cheeks flushed pink, and he waved Roman away.

“Go on, then!” he said. “Go have your perfectly professional business meeting.”

“I will!” Roman said primly, but as he stood to leave, he shot Virgil a grateful smile, and Virgil nodded in return.

After parting with Patton at the house’s entrance, Roman made the short trek down to the library alone. He hadn’t been sure how he would manage living at the Howard Estate at first, but his life had settled into a predictable yet comfortable routine since the engagement banquet.

Patton brought breakfast to his room every morning, and after Roman insisted several times that he preferred the company, Patton now stayed to eat with him most mornings. After breakfast, Roman changed into his riding clothes and the two headed down to the stables together, where Virgil was waiting for them with Angel. Roman took his morning ride, and Patton and Virgil did whatever it was they liked to do when they were alone together.

When he returned, Roman helped Virgil groom Angel, and the three of them often fell into easy conversation with one another. At midday, Roman took his lunch in the library with Logan, and he spent the afternoons on his own, exploring the mansion or indulging in his creative hobbies. All in all, his days were mostly pleasant, until dinnertime, of course.

His nightly dinner with Lord Howard was, to his disappointment, the most boring and uncomfortable part of Roman’s day. It became clear to Roman after a few attempts of engaging with his fiance that Lord Howard wasn’t even slightly interested in talking with him; what he wanted was somebody to talk at. Roman sat, night after night, and listened to the earl rant about frustrating business partners, idiotic city officials, and even tiny annoyances like a scuff on his boot or a fly in his office. It was difficult to not feel like an emotional punching bag, and Roman always left dinner exhausted from playing the polite, doting fiance that Lord Howard expected him to be.

Roman stepped into the library, and smiled when he saw Logan sitting at a table beneath a window, the afternoon sun casting golden beams of light through his long hair.

At least there were more positives than negatives to living at this estate.

“Ah, Roman,” Logan said, smiling as he approached. “Excellent timing, I was just beginning to review my weekly report for Lord Howard. Would you care to assist me?”

“Always,” Roman said, sitting down across from him.

They poured over the receipts and summaries and work orders together, and Roman couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of work that Logan did every single day.

“Honestly, Logan, you do almost too much for the earl. Especially considering what he pays you.”

Roman had seen the payroll receipts for all the staff, and he couldn’t help but be a little insulted on the servants’ behalf. One of the ways Lord Howard kept costs down was clearly at the expense of his staff.

“While I may agree with your sentiment, the fact of the matter is that if I did not do all this, the estate would fall apart,” Logan said. “And regardless of any...personal feelings about his lordship, there are far too many people who depend on him and his estate for me to consider stopping.”

Logan paused, frowning as he scanned a document, then sighed.

“For instance, his lordship neglected to sign off on a shipment of new armor to the city guard, despite my reminding him to do so three times in the last week.”

He scrawled something along the bottom of the document and set it aside, and Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Was that Lord Howard’s name you just wrote?”

Logan fiddled with his glasses, and he glanced around the room before answering. “This is...not the first time that his lordship has neglected his duties on what he perceives to be minor issues. I, uh...take the liberty of correcting such oversights for him.”

“You can forge his handwriting?” Roman translated, and Logan nodded sheepishly. “That’s amazing!”

Logan blinked, looking up at Roman in clear surprise. “I...it is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Roman exclaimed. “Of course it is...you’re so talented, Logan, really. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’re wasted as a secretary.”

“Oh...well, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I must admit, you also have far more potential than his lordship would care to acknowledge.”

“I’ll get him to see sense soon,” Roman insisted. “Then maybe together, we can make some real changes around here!”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Logan said with a sigh. “But I am glad to share your company, at least.”

It was Roman’s turn to blush, but before he could think of a reply, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Patton approaching their table.

“Sorry for interrupting, Kiddos, but I’ve been asked to fetch Roman here and get him ready.”

“Get me ready?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded.

“His lordship requests your presence at a business meeting he has in an hour with other estate holders. I’ve been instructed to dress you for the event and bring you to his lordship.”

Roman forced down the twinge of discomfort in the back of his mind at the earl choosing an outfit for him like he was some sort of doll, and grinned as he got to his feet.

“You see, Logan?” he said. “This is our chance!”

“If it is a meeting with other nobility, then I’m afraid I won’t be present,” Logan said. “Lord Howard does not wish for...commoners to be present at such negotiations. He instructs me on what measures need to be taken afterwards.”

“That’ll be the first thing we change then, once I make him see reason,” Roman said. “You’ll see, this is going to be the start of something great!”

“I hope you are right,” Logan said with a small smile. “Good luck, Roman.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman said as he followed Patton out of the library.

I’ll certainly need it.

--- --- ---

Roman fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, shooting a glance over to the earl to make sure he hadn’t noticed. The silky fabric that his pants were made of stuck uncomfortably to his skin and made his legs itch horribly, but he had been in similar attire before and had had plenty of practice in the art of keeping his poise while screaming internally. Thankfully, even though he was seated right next to Lord Howard, he had yet to draw his attention. Howard had been too occupied bragging about his various business exports for most of the meeting to pay much attention to him.

Even through his discomfort, Roman had been learning a lot about his fiance, dutifully keeping mental notes on everything he heard, from which parts of land he had inherited to which ones he had bought or negotiated into owning. Overseas businesses and local investments both let his power reach farther than one might first suspect, and all that put together was what kept the Howard Estate with its acres of land, sprawling mansion and extensive grounds and highly specialized staff all running smoothly.

It was a lot to manage, so it made sense that Lord Howard had Logan figure out most of the work and only signed off on the most important things himself. Having someone as competent as Logan run things in the background so the true estate head could make the actual appearances as the business leader was a strategy many nobles used to keep their properties under control.

Craning his neck to look up at his fiance from his lower seat, Roman furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered just how much Logan did that the earl never saw anything about until he reaped the benefits of it. Sure, Logan was extremely capable, but relying entirely on one person to manage everything seemed a bit foolhardy to Roman.

Tuning back into the conversation, Roman perked up as another lord gestured stiffly at a stack of documents in front of him, smooth calculation clear in his tone of voice. Negotiations were something Roman had always prided himself in handling, and handling well. He had often spoken circles around his own father in their practice debates, and it was rare that Roman participated in a discussion without gaining something in his own favor.

As neither party at the moment looked particularly stressed, Roman figured with a slight twinge of disappointment that such measures shouldn’t be needed this time. He would have liked to show off just a bit and make Lord Howard see what a useful asset he could actually be in their marriage, but he supposed that could wait until a more appropriate opportunity.

“I have most of the influence in this field anyway. Signing your bit of land over to me now would cause fewer problems for you in the future; especially if I don’t have to take it by force when I’m looking to expand.” Punctuating his statement with a firm tap to the papers, the opposing lord sat back with a satisfied smirk.

The icy glare Lord Howard fixed him with was enough to wipe the smirk fully off his face, however, and he tilted back slightly as the earl leaned forward to fold his hands smoothly in front of him.

“I’m not in the habit of signing away what’s rightfully mine, Lord Rilken, Baron of Vilvik.”

Roman flinched slightly at the way he practically spat the other man’s title…a title he shared, and had never once felt insecure about until this very moment. The way he spoke to these men, these people in positions of power, like they were nothing but dirt to be brushed off his own much more impressive riches- it was enough to make Roman want to run all the way back to his own estate and beg for another way, plead to wait for someone else to ask for his hand or to find someone himself. He stiffened in his seat and shook the irrational thoughts away.

No, this is how one played the game when negotiating important matters. Put up a cold and intimidating front until the other person backed down or bent to your own suggestions. If anything, Lord Howard's act was admirable; it almost immediately shut down any arguments, even if it hardly held any semblance of tact. Realizing this would be a good opportunity to show his skills, Roman leaned forward and placed his own hands on the table in front of him, gaining the attention of the opposing business owners quickly.

“It might prove advantageous to you both to simply form a partnership and share the land and business potential it holds. With as much power as the both of you hold over this branch, you’d be able to expand much faster and reap more benefits than you would if you spent all of your time attempting to take control over the others’ sections.” Pleased with himself, Roman glanced over to Lord Howard, expecting at least to have impressed him since he hadn’t really had the time to explain all that he had been trained in and what he could bring to the estate with their union.

However, as he met Lord Howard’s eyes, ice ran through his veins. The earl was glaring, staring him down like a particularly resilient bug that he could hardly wait to smash beneath a steel-toed boot. The room went so quiet that Roman could swear that the other nobles were holding their breath, and glancing around in his peripherals, he saw everyone sitting around the table gawking at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Had he really said something so wrong? Was this not what was customary, nay, expected behavior of the soon to be co-owner of the estate? Shrinking down slightly as his ears burned red, he finally lowered his eyes as the earl turned away. Roman heard him take a deep breath before saying in a deliberately controlled voice:

“You must forgive my fiance, he hails from a country estate you see; he isn’t accustomed to the way things work here yet. If you would be so kind as to excuse us for just a moment so that I may explain a few things?” Not waiting for an answer, the earl stood and held out his hand for Roman to take. “If you would step into the hall with me, dearest?”

Recognizing the order under the request, Roman stood quickly and took Lord Howard’s hand, wincing at how tightly he was gripped and practically dragged out of the room. The door was opened just a bit too forcefully to calm his nerves in the slightest and he watched as Lord Howard seemed to barely refrain from slamming it back closed, instead closing it with deliberate calm before whirling around to face him and jerking his hand out of Roman’s to tower before him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, you do not speak out of turn in these meetings. You do not speak above me or-”

“But I didn’t! I was only-” Roman didn’t register what the dull smacking sound echoing in his ears and making them ring was until pain bloomed and spread from his lower jaw to his entire cheek. Raising his hand to his face in disbelief, he felt a bit of wetness and looked to see blood on his fingertips. Fear and horror twisted in his gut as he realized one of Lord Howard’s rings must have caught on his cheek and opened a cut. His jaw ached and his teeth felt numb; the blow had been hard enough to rattle them in his skull. Romans looked up and flinched as he saw Howard’s hand still raised to strike should he choose to speak again, and he shrunk in on himself in an attempt to seem too small to expend more energy on.

“You,” The earl spat, “do not speak above me, or make suggestions on my behalf. You are not here to offer up useless opinions that were not asked for or needed. You were brought into that room to sit obediently and look pretty on my arm and that is the full extent that your role will ever be. Have I made myself clear?”

Roman hesitated for just a second too long, and Lord Howard reached down to grip his chin, tipping his head so he had no choice but to look his assailant directly in the eyes. “My dear, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

Biting back a whimper Roman nodded as much as he could with his face trapped in the steely grip. “Yes my lord, I understand perfectly. I apologize for overstepping, it won’t happen again.”

The answer, as demeaning as it had felt to say, seemed to appease the still seething man, and Howard dropped his chin and stepped back with a wolfish smile.

“Very good, see to it that it doesn’t. Now, I believe we’ve been here long enough. If you’re done blubbering, you may join me.”

Startling a bit at the choice of phrasing, Roman hesitantly reached up to touch his face, wincing as he realized there was more than just blood on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he carefully wiped the tears away before plastering on a small smile and moving to stand just behind the earl. He was loath to go back into the room like this, humiliation and blood reddening his cheeks, but he didn’t dare speak up for fear of more punishment. As Lord Howard opened the door and moved back to his place at the head of the table, he hardly spared Roman another glance, and Roman had no choice but to meekly follow.

Sitting down, Roman realized most of the people at the table were staring at him like one would a fresh kill, their expressions a mixture of pity and approval while they averted their eyes. Sinking down even lower as the meeting resumed, he realized this was to be the second part of his punishment. He was to learn and remember his role as Lord Howard’s betrothed and eventual husband. Sit still and look pretty, step a toe out of line and be punished, and make sure everyone in the room knew that the power held over him was just as absolute as the power the earl held over everything else.

“I’m pleased to know some people still know how to keep common folk in line. Truly, the disrespect-” Roman’s ears rang as someone close by whispered to another just loud enough for him to overhear, making him want to sink down even lower and let the floor swallow him.

The meeting continued on for what seemed like forever, but unlike before, Roman didn’t absorb a single word of what was said. The voices of the other lords washed over him as he sat as still as he could, hands clenched in his lap to keep them from trembling. When at last Lord Howard stood, Roman almost stood up next to him, but caught himself just in time and sent a questioning glance up at his fiance.

Lord Howard’s lips curled into a smile, and he held his arm out to Roman in invitation. Roman swallowed down his revulsion and stood, slipping his arm into the earl’s and schooling his face into a pretty smile. Lord Howard covered Roman’s hand with his own, and Roman’s skin burned at the touch.

“Well gentlemen, this concludes our discussion for the day, I do thank you all for coming.”

One by one the nobles stood, nodding to Lord Howard as they filed out of the room. Roman’s cheeks heated as several of them swept their eyes over him as they passed, their gazes lingering on the bruise blooming on his face. When at last, every one of them was gone, Lord Howard turned his attention to Roman, all false pleasantries gone from his expression.

“I trust that after today, any...confusion about your role here has been cleared up?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” Roman whispered, and the earl smiled.

“Good. Now go clean yourself up. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp, and I expect you to look presentable.”

“Yes, my lord,” Roman repeated, and as soon as Lord Howard dropped his arm, he practically bolted from the room.

He hurried through the corridors of the mansion, head down and eyes stinging. When he finally reached his room, he all but slammed the door behind him, and collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he released the sob he’d been holding back for the past hour.

He let himself cry, for how long, he wasn’t sure, not only for the sting on his cheek and the shame that came with it, but for every doubt, every grief, every pain that he’d pushed down and bottled up over the past month.

After everything he’d been through, everything he’d sacrificed, was this really his fate? Chained forever to a man who only saw him as something to own, to display, to use...

Roman lifted his head slowly.

“Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

His father had taught him everything he knew about business, about politics, about matters of the state. He knew how to act with decorum, how to spot an opportunity, and how to charm a room while negotiating, all thanks to his father’s teachings.

But now, with tears running down his face and a bruise blossoming on his cheek, he remembered another set of lessons.

Lessons his mother had given him as a teenager, after time had run its course and he was no longer the slightly awkward, gangly kid he had once been.

“You’ve grown into a handsome young man,” his mother had said to him on his eighteenth birthday. “Your father believes that when you are married, it will be purely for political reasons. You need to know that this may not be the case.”

Roman had tried to forget the lessons his mother had passed down to him, had told himself that he would never need them...but here he was, sobbing on the floor, the first of what he knew would be many marks on his skin if he didn’t tread carefully.

Roman learned everything he knew about running an estate from his father, but he learned everything about acting from his mother. Thanks to her, he knew how to conceal his emotions, how to smile when his stomach rolled over and how to sigh when his skin burned. He knew how to mold himself into the perfect husband, because if he did not let himself be molded he would find himself broken before it was too late.

“Too late for what, mother?” the younger him had asked, eyes wide and horrified, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how your grandfather died?”

Roman knew what situations were most likely to result in “accidents,” what weapons were easily concealed and what poisons were difficult to detect. He knew how to pluck a nose hair to bring tears to his eyes and slap his cheeks so they appeared flushed. He knew how to appear calm and collected when he was suffering, and how to appear stricken with grief when all he felt was relief.

He had been preparing for marriage his whole life...every kind of marriage. And now that he knew the kind of husband that Lord Howard really wanted, he knew exactly what kind of husband he was going to be.

Even if he wouldn’t be one for very long.

--- --- ---

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#sanders sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logince #moxiety #you don't own me #my writing #abuse tw

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years

Note

Robot Jon! ☺️

(ok, I've been off tumblr for a few days, but I went on early this morning and had an ask with a bunch of prompts because I said I'd be taking a break from my Bachelor fic - which is true, if not for another 3 chapters yet. I haven't answered that ask because I'll lose it and therefore the prompts, but it reminded me that I still had two prompts left from when I asked for them back in... December? I'm the worst. Anyway, I re-looked at those prompts, saw this one, and then couldn't stop thinking about it. So I'm coming out of my vague tumblr hiatus to write this.)

Thank you, as always, for the prompt!

Sansa has never liked amusement parks.

The sun that always burned her, no matter how diligent mom was about reapplying sunscreen; the fried food that always made her sick; the crowds and the noise and having to walk everywhere. But the worst part was the rides – oh, she didn't mind some of them, like the Ferris wheel or the teacups; she could even handle the swing ride. The problem was that the rest of her family wanted to go on the horrible rides – roller coasters, haunted houses, swinging ships; the ones that go fast and drop you from a million feet in the air. And since it was hard enough wrangling the amount of children in their group to begin with, it was impossiblefor one adult to split off with Sansa, who alone wanted to ride the gentler ones.

And so, it's sort of ironic that she works at an amusement park now.

She may not have a taste for most of the rides in the park, but she is good at designing them – not the actual rides, but the aesthetics of them. It's her (and her team's) job to come in after the engineers and the builders and take a bare-bones ride and turn it into an experience. She loves her job – she loves watching children exit one of her rides with glowing faces and excitement in their eyes.

Today, she also gets to do one of her favorite aspects of the job, which is costume design. The animatronic models have already been installed, and when she enters the new Dance of Dragons ride, she can already see the scene taking shape in her mind. The concept art has already been drawn up, it's already being advertised – a medieval world that everyone knows is meant to capitalize on the stunning success of the Aemon the Dragonknight series (which her employer does not own the rights to, much to their dismay). But concept art is one thing – reality is another, and it's not until the ride is complete that she can start to truly see it come together in her mind.

“Oh good, you're here,” Margaery Tyrell sighs dramatically as she comes to meet Sansa's team. Margaery is in charge of Marketing and PR for this ride and Sansa knows it's a big responsibility, so she's been even more high maintenance than usual. Margaery walks her through the ride that Sansa has seen so many times in drawings.

“This is our Aemon,” Margaery slaps a hand against the shoulder of one of the animatronic models. “Although we can't call him Aemon. Copyright and all that.”

Sansa looks at the robot and she's struck for a moment how lifelike he is. A lot of the animatronics aren't this detailed, though she guesses this one is because of how close to the ride it is.

“He's handsome, right?” Margaery flashes her a grin and there's something in her eyes that Sansa can't quite place. (Well, she can, it's mischief, Sansa just can't tell why it's there.)

“I guess, in the way that cartoons can be handsome,” Sansa laughs and takes another look at the model – the somber grey eyes, dark curly hair, and an equally dark beard. “You even gave him abs,” she points down at the robot's chest which does, indeed, have a very detailed set of abs. “Am I supposed to leave him shirtless?”

“Oh, no, obviously we want realism, like we talked about,” Margaery waves her hand dismissively. “We just couldn't help ourselves when we put in the order.” Sansa shoots her a confused look, which only gets a delighted laugh out of Margaery. “I'm guessing you don't recognize him?”

“Recognize who?”

Margaery gestures at the animatronic. “Jon!” At Sansa's blank stare, Margaery rolls her eyes. “Jon Snow?”

The name sounds familiar and it takes her a second to place it. “The engineer?”

“Duh! Seven hells, don't tell me you've never actually seen him?”

Sansa shakes her head – she usually comes in well after the engineers have done their part.

“Mormont let him take the lead on this project and he's so... ugh,” Margaery makes a noise that's half frustration, half delight. “So serious all the time. But somehow likable? It's infuriating, really. And no one should be that attractive for a nerd.”

“So... does he know you made him into a robot?”

“He does not,” Margaery grins. “We're all just dying for him to come in for an inspection and see it. In fact,” she pulls out her phone and checks the time, “if you wait around for a bit, you'll get to see it happen.”

Sansa shakes her head and they continue on through the set, Sansa writing down notes in her trusty notebook that she always carries with her. Lists of costumes, set pieces. She'll need to bring in Asha later to discuss the lighting options (right now the dark ride is lit with spotlights, giving the whole place a surreal atmosphere).

Margaery eventually leaves her to it and Sansa loses herself in going over the set inch by inch with Gilly and Mya following along with her. She's so lost in thought that Mya has to shake her arm to bring her back to reality, and they turn to see a group of what has to be engineers standing in the main Great Hall set.

“Oh come on, Jon,” Margaery is giggling as a man who must be Jon stands, staring at the animatronic. He's scowling at it, hands tight around the pile of binders in his arms that are... well, ok, Sansa can understand now why Margaery made the robot so well muscled.

Sansa edges closer to the scene, and she can see that his fellow engineers are laughing – one of them is red-faced from trying to hold it in while another is actively wiping tears from his eyes.

“It's already made,” Margaery says in response to whatever Jon had grumbled to her. “Replacing it would be an irresponsible waste of funds. Oh! And here's the team that will be styling you... I mean, styling not-Aemon because that's copyright infringement.”

Jon looks up and the scowl drops from his face.

“This is Sansa, Mya and Gilly are over there.”

“Hi,” Sansa greets and Jon shifts his binders into one arm and then holds out his hand for her to shake (she can feel her face heating up and she hopes the dark hides it). “I promise to try and do you justice.” She regrets her words immediately, especially when she sees a slow grin spread over Margaery's face. “Though it doesn't totally look like you,” she continues on to try and backtrack. “It... doesn't have glasses?”

She wants to sink into the floor in embarrassment, but the gods are not that kind. At least she doesn't spout out how much she likes his glasses. Maybe Margaery is right – no one who clearly cares so little about their appearance should be this attractive. His beard needs a trim, his outfit is painfully unstylish, his hair is pulled back into a bun. All of it should add up to something she hates, but she just... doesn't.

(And honestly, Margaery's description of nerd isn't so far off the mark, but Sansa finds this isn't a detriment – in fact, she might be more attracted to him because of the glasses and the multitude of thick binders organized with labels and tabs that he's got tucked under his arm.)

“I'd also hope real Jon isn't built like a Ken doll,” one of the other engineers barks out a laugh and points at the animatronic, which, yes, does not have any reproductive anatomy.

“Gods,” she hears Jon whisper, and the hand that he had used to shake hers comes up and covers his eyes. “This is a nightmare.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Margaery sighs and pats him on the shoulder. “Now, why don't you take Sansa around and make sure she's really taken care of, hmm?” At the words, Sansa feels her face heat even further and Jon drops his hand from his eyes and glares at Margaery. “I just mean,” Margaery grins, not even trying to pretend the innuendo wasn't on purpose, “it might help the design if she has a good understanding of the mechanics. I know there's some new things on this ride we haven't had before, you could show her.”

Jon opens his mouth, but doesn't get a chance to speak, because Margaery barrels on. “Sam, Grenn, you can chat with Gilly and Mya while that's happening. And I... well, I'll just be over here, minding my own business.”

With that, Margaery walks away and the other two engineers – Sam and Grenn, she guesses – head over to where the rest of her team stands, watching from afar.

“You don't have to,” Sansa starts, but Jon quickly turns from glaring at Margaery's back to her and his face settles into something less... scowly.

“I don't mind,” he says quickly and maybe it's the low lighting in here, but she thinks the tips of his ears are red.

“Perfect,” she gives him her best smile, which seems to throw him even more off balance and... and she thinks she could get used to throwing Jon Snow off balance.

#ask #jonsa #jonsa fic #prompt fic #i don't know how amusement park ride design works #just go with it #don't ask questions

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silver-tongued-bby · 3 years

Text

You're Mine, Chapter 6

You’re the CEO of a groundbreaking drug company in Sweden with a work/life balance that’s more work than anything else. That is before you meet Loki, who turns your world on its head in the best of ways.

Set during the first Avengers movie. This work contains explicit content and BDSM.

Pairing: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, BDSM, Smut, Dirty talk

Word Count: 3,372

You awoke to beams of sunlight streaming through the window. Turning to your side you found Loki’s long form stretched out beside you, lounging lazily with a book. He set it down to smile at you. “Good morning, älskling.”

You shivered at the timbre of his voice, smiling back at him. “‘Morning,” you stared down at the book resting on his thigh, an eyebrow raised. “The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” You read the title while trying, but failing to hold back a laugh.

“What?” He frowned, looking down at you with the slightest trace of a smile playing at his lips. “He’s got a lot of it right.”

Your eyes widened and you gripped his arm. “Is it the part about the dolphins?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he smiled down at you. “Definitely the dolphins.”

“How long have you been up? Wait do you even need sleep?” You furrowed your brow, settling your body closer to his. You brought your fingertips up to draw small circles over his bare chest.

“It’s not a necessity. I can go long periods without sleeping. Lately I’ve found myself reading in the evenings more than anything else,” he brought his hand over to lightly trace your arm with his fingers.

You hummed lightly at the sensation, your eyes closing briefly.

“We should go get some breakfast, älskling.” You opened your eyes to find his tender gaze studying you. “I have a few things in mind for today. You’ll need your strength,” his voice turned sinful as he continued to stroke your skin. It all sent a tremble through you, your thighs clenching.

His eyes traced over your features, a light smile at his lips. The effect he had on you was growing and the little smirk he looked down at you with told you he enjoyed every second of it.

“Breakfast,” he reminded you, sighing as he got up from the bed.

“Right,” you said as you sat up, “breakfast.”

He brought you to a small cafe nearby, with a picturesque view of the water. The conversation between the two of you flowed easily. Considering he was a thousand-year old god he had a lot to say about the current state of global politics.

“I should probably stop by my house this morning- would you like to come?” You asked, toying with the handle of your coffee mug between your fingers.

“Of course,” he nodded, his eyebrow raised. “What I have planned doesn’t require a specific location, though we may appreciate some privacy.” The velvet in his voice returned and you swallowed.

Settling up at the cafe he walked you to the underground garage of his building, back to the lot with the gleaming vehicles.

“Which one, älskling?” He asked, motioning to the cars in front of him, parked beside the Mercedes he brought to dinner last night.

“Oh,” you took a step back to look at the four cars he motioned to. “Are these all yours?” You asked, turning to him.

He nodded, hands behind his back as he watched you admire each vehicle.

“I think we’ve got to go with the jag,” you said, pointing to the deep green Jaguar in front of you.

“Excellent choice,” he mused then helped you slide in to the passenger side.

You jumped when he materialised in the driver’s seat, “Jesus Christ!”

He chuckled, “wrong god, älskling.” Turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, I’ve been holding back my powers around you though I’d like to stop that now.”

Your heart raced as you remembered what you’d thought you saw last night on the drive home. “What else can you do with them- with your powers?”

He brought his hand up under your chin, looking you evenly in the eyes. “Be a good girl and you’ll find out.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “yes, Sir.”

He gave you a chaste kiss before turning the car on and pulling out of the lot. The drive passed quickly, it was rare to see a large crowd on the roads on a Sunday.

Loki pulled the car up to your empty house and parked it out front. He helped you up the icy steps to the front door, unlocking it the two of you stepped inside.

“Your home is lovely,” he said as you removed your coats and slipped them in the closet.

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m really happy with it. My work can really take its toll on me, but I’ve always found peace here.” You led him through the warm wooden corridors, giving him a quick tour of everything as you went. He complimented your design decisions as well as some of the art you’d purchased over the years.

It was rare for you to have someone over who didn’t work for you in some capacity but you enjoyed showing him around, letting him in on the parts of your life rarely seen by others.

You were happy though you had to acknowledge the small part of you that worried about the day he’d need to return to his former life, leaving you behind. You chastised yourself for thinking that, it was best to enjoy your time with him while you had it.

You hadn’t realised that you’d stopped in the kitchen as you mulled over your thoughts, growing quiet as you contemplated things.

“Älskling,” Loki had turned away from the large window overlooking the frosty water, snapping you out of your thoughts. He came to you, gently holding your face as he looked in your eyes. “Where did you go just then?” He spoke tenderly, his eyes searching yours.

“I-“ you felt your cheeks grow hot. “It’s silly,” you looked down and bit your lip. You took a deep breath and looked back into his eyes, “you’re the first person I’ve really let in since I’ve been here- not just to my home but to my life. I’m so happy to have met you. I’m just trying not to get my expectations out of line with the reality of our situation.”

His brow furrowed. “And what’s that?”

“You’re an alien, a thousand year old god,” you laughed. “I can’t expect you to stay here on Earth with me. You have a family on Asgard, and a life you’ll want to return to. I’m worried the more I let you in the harder it’ll be for me to let you go when the time comes.” You smiled pitifully, turning your head away.

“Oh älskling,” he said, his head tilting as his eyes held a sorry expression. He shook his head after a moment. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I have no reason to, I’m happy here. And my family-“ he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “My family thinks I’m dead.”

“What?” You frowned, quickly running through what he told you last night mentally. He mentioned a strained relationship, but not that he’d faked his own death.

He let go of you, turning to face the window once more. “I tried to follow the right path to make my father- my family proud. But it all got turned around when I discovered my true nature.” He laughed bitterly. “I quickly learnt that no matter what I did I’d always be the outsider. My father would never accept me as he did my brother. He’d never let me rule,” he frowned. “That was difficult for me to face,” he took a deep breath. “So, I let myself fall off the Bifrost and into open space. I ended up passing through Yggdrasil- what you’d call a wormhole.”

There was silence as you digested his words, your heart in your throat. You stepped to him, gently taking a hold of his arm. “Oh Loki,” you looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled, his eyes wet. “I couldn’t stand it-“ he turned his head, his expression pained. “I figured it’d be easier if I were out of the picture.”

You brought your hand up to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, your heart heavy.

Taking another deep breath he continued. “I was picked up by a ravager ship,” seeing your expression he explained further, “think space pirates. I made a deal with them to deliver me here- to Midgard. I’ve been here ever since.”

“And how long has that been?” You asked gently.

“A year or so,” he shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone that before.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you brought your hands up around his neck and gave him a hug. “That’s a lot to go through, let alone survive.”

“I wouldn’t do it again given the chance,” he pulled away from you to look in your eyes. “But being away from my family, from Asgard has been good for me. I’d like to stay here,” he gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “I’d like to explore this more- what’s between us.”

You smiled, feeling most of your prior apprehension melt away and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. “Me too,” you breathed against his lips. His arms snaked around your waist to bring you closer as he pulled you in for a deeper kiss.

Everything about him made you tremble- his scent, his firm body against yours, the way his hands strongly gripped your waist, the way he kissed you- be it gentle, hard or in-between. You found yourself gasping into his mouth, your core growing wet as he wrapped himself around you, overwhelming you in every sense of the word.

He moved from your lips momentarily, his breath heavy with your own. “Bedroom?”

You nodded and pulled away with a shaky breath in, turning to lead him down the hall. The lights came on, revealing the simplistic design of your bedroom. You turned to him, surprised to find him close behind you. He came closer, his lips almost against yours as he stared into your eyes. He brought his hand to your hip to guide you backwards towards your bed, his gaze turning predatory.

Your calves hit the end of your bed and he brought his hands up to gently hold either side of your face. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he captured your lips with his once more.

After a moment he pulled away and gave you a smile, your clothes and his disappearing with a flash of green. “Much better,” he kissed your shoulder, gently sucking on the skin.

He gripped your waist and turned the two of you before pulling you down on top of him so you were straddling him on the bed. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex. You looked down to see his length between the two of you, already painfully hard. Bringing your eyes back up to him you dipped to lightly graze his lips with your own as you repositioned yourself to be flush against him.

You felt his hard length under your wet heat, and as you nipped at his lower lip you began to move against him. He felt so fucking good- sliding across your folds with ease with help from your excitement.

You moaned, everything about him driving you so close to the edge already. He was firmly gripping your ass, guiding you along his cock.

“That’s it, älskling. Take what you need from me,” you whimpered at the sound of his voice, the timbre of it sending heat throughout you.

He looked up at you with dark eyes as he bent to kiss your nipple, pulling the sensitive flesh into his mouth. You moaned, throwing your head back to further push yourself against him. He dragged his teeth lightly across the sensitive bud and you looked down at him, breathing heavily while you continued to move against him.

“Please,” you breathed, looking back down as your fingers slipped through his hair. You were so close, so close to letting go but you couldn’t let yourself. You needed him to say that you could cum.

“Please what, little one?” His expression was passive as he looked up at you, an eyebrow raised.

“Please- please Sir may I cum?” You asked, your heart racing. You’d tried to slow your movements against him but he’d kept the pace using his grip on you. Every muscle in your body was clenched as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.

“My good girl,” he smiled. “I’m so proud of you, holding on for me. You may cum älskling. Cum now.” He commanded, his teeth gritting together. You came with a cry, your hips frozen in place against his as you twitched on top of him. You relished in the feel of his hot length against you, now coated in your release. He kept his eyes on you as he kissed the skin between your breasts, holding you tight as you came back to yourself.

“As much as I love this view,” he said, gripping your waist before he rolled the two of you over. “That’s better,” he grinned down at you.

Holding himself over you he gently brushed the errant strands of hair from your face. His eyes slipped from yours to trace over your skin and your heart raced, your breath heavy. “My lovely little thing,” he brought his gaze back to yours before bringing his lips to your ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. He gently licked the shell of your ear then captured your lobe between his teeth, the sensation causing you to cry out sharply. He chuckled darkly against the skin of your neck, “oh älskling. I love finding new ways to make you scream.” He sucked the skin behind your ear, his words leaving you dizzy with lust.

He brought himself back up to face you, looking as if he could devour you on the spot. You bit your lip and raised your hips against him, whining as you felt his length gently brush through your folds. He grabbed your face, his long fingers firmly gripping your jaw as his hips came down on yours to hold you in place.

“You needy little thing. What happened to my good girl, hm?” He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he waited for an answer.

“I- I’m sorry Sir.” You stuttered, trying not to move as you felt his length press against you. “It’s just-“ you cut yourself off when you saw the warning look in his eyes.

“No excuses älskling. You take what I give you. I’ll fuck this sweet little cunt,” he moved his hand from your jaw to cup your heat, “when I decide you deserve my cock.”

You felt yourself tremble and grow even more wet with his words, and from his smug expression you could tell he felt it too.

“Is that clear, älskling?” He enunciated each word but all you could focus on was the feel of his hand over your heat, so close to where you needed it.

You nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Say it.” He commanded, his jaw strong as he looked down at you.

“I take what you give me, Sir.” You obeyed, your voice small though your heart raced.

“Good girl.” He nodded, then moved his hand from your heat, forcing you to suppress a whimper at the loss of contact. “Now,” he wore a sinful expression, “do you want me to fuck you?”

You eagerly nodded, “yes please, Sir.”

“Prove it. Beg me. Beg me to fuck you,” his voice was deep as he dared you with his eyes.

“Please fuck me, Sir. Please- I need you to fuck me. I’m yours Sir, please.” You rushed out, desperate for him to fill you, to touch you, to keep speaking to you in that raspy tone.

“Good girl,” he brought his hand to his cock and guided it through your folds, gathering wetness and forcing a whimper from your lips. Then he slowly entered you, bit by bit, taking his time as you willed yourself to remain still.

Once he was fully seated inside you he began to thrust, slowly at first, but building to a steady rhythm. Each thrust met a deep, sensitive spot within you that hurt in the most delicious way. Your muscles clenched each time he hit it, and you’d lost your breath to short uneven spurts of air as your pleasure built.

“Oh- oh fuck, please-“ you said, unsure of what you wanted from him other than for his unrelenting thrusts.

He brought his fingers to your mouth and you eagerly sucked them, running your tongue along the pads of his finger tips. His lips curved upwards and he withdrew them, sliding them over your nipple before pinching it between his dampened digits. Your back arched at the sharp pain, your body alight with pleasure- you were close to your finish.

“Sir- I’m close, I’m close,” you said between quick puffs of air.

“I know, älskling. I can feel it. Your tight little cunt is gripping me firmer and firmer,” he let out a breath. “Gods.”

“Please, Sir- please may I cum?” You begged, your fingertips gripping the muscles of his arms as you held on for dear life.

He nodded, “yes. My good girl, you may cum. Cum for me- I want to feel you come undone on my cock.” He rasped out and you came, the pleasure overtaking your every sense. You writhed under him as you rode out your high, and after a few thrusts you felt him twitch inside of you. He moaned as he came, his eyes still locked with yours as you both came back to yourselves.

He smoothed your hair back and gently kissed you before he pulled out, his cum trickling down your thigh. Stepping back, his eyes traced over your spent body, a smile at his lips. “Beautiful.” He said before materialising a damp cloth, handing it to you so you could clean yourself.

You smiled back at him before sitting up on the bed. “Will you come with me? I want to show you my favourite part of this house,” you said, standing up and walking over to your closet to grab a robe. He materialised himself a dark silk robe to match your own before you led him back out in the hall. You pressed on the wood panelling of the hallway, opening the concealed doorway, leading to a series of steps alit with soft light.

You looked back at him- he hesitated for a moment, curious.

You threw him a wink before turning to go down the steps, leading to the bath you’d had custom built. The room was carved out into the rock that your home was built on, smooth but cool under your feet. There was a massive tub in the middle of the room, surrounded by windows that overlooked the idyllic lake. To the side against the stone there was a steam shower as well as a sauna. This was your happy place- few had seen it, only a few close friends who came to visit every now and then.

He stepped into the room, running his fingers along the large tub of hand-carved wood before he turned around, a smile on his face as he took in the room. He chuckled, “impressive.”

“I know,” you grinned as you tapped the controls for the water to fill in the bath. You stepped over to the concealed bar to fetch a bottle of red and some cold water. Setting the bottles on the side table to the tub you retrieved some glasses and poured the wine, offering him a glass as he stepped over to you. He pulled you against him and the two of you looked over the setting sun of the lake.

The tub controls beeped shortly thereafter and you both slipped your robes off before settling into the water, your back settled into his side. He distractedly played with a strand of your hair, twisting it between his fingers. Running over the whirlwind events of your weekend you had a hard time believing this all happened in such a short time.

You sighed contentedly as you rested back against him, your eyes slipping closed.

End Note: This chapter went a little softer than I'd anticipated- next week's will explore a bit more bd/sm themes, I promise! If you'd like more Loki, check out my latest fic: Summer Wine. I'll be posting Chapter 7 of You're Mine next Sunday as well as a new Loki one-shot! Thank you as always for reading.

Taglist (open!):

@fuck-is-going-on

#dom!loki x sub!reader #dom!loki x you #dom!loki #dom!loki x you smut #loki x you smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #bd/sm fic #tom Hiddleston loki

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iliumheightnights · 4 years

Text

We Have A Jedi [12] | Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Fandom: Marvel and Star Wars

Pairing: Tony Stark x Son!Reader, Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Summary: (M/N) is officially back on earth, so is Sheyo. With the two stranded and the war still raging on, what comes next?

Read from the beginning

…

(M/N) opened his eyes and was confused why he didn’t hear the hum of ship engines. Sitting up he realized he wasn’t in his quarters on the ship, he was in his room on earth. He could tell by how the sun was starting to raise over the city that he had woken up pretty early. Perhaps he was still adjusted to waking up for the next campaign. He stood up and walked over to the closet, inside he found some clothes that could fit him. Once he was dressed he wandered out to the living room.

The quietness of the area told him that no one was up yet. Moving to the kitchen he looked around. Last time he was on earth he was taught a couple of things for cooking. He got to work making something for everybody to eat as they got up. He had got some of the food done by the time someone entered the kitchen. “Do I smell food?” (M/N) smiled and turned to face his intruder. “Hey Steve. I’m making breakfast, grab a plate. most of it is done.” Steve smirked and did so before sitting at the table. “I gotta say, I half expected to wake up and realize last night was a dream. But you’re here...actually here.” He looked at his plate and back to (M/N). “Where have you been kid?”

(M/N) finished his cooking and set everything aside. “I didn’t want to leave. I wanted more time here, with you guys...with dad. But there’s still a war going on and mom wanted to make sure that we realized that.” (M/N) shrugged his shoulders. “I guess she was right though. Once we got back into the fight I realized there were still so many people that needed our help. I couldn’t just stay here or come back...even if I tried at first.” (M/N) had a far away look in his eyes and Steve noticed, the younger book shook his head quickly though. “Anyways that’s the past. I’m here now...I just hope for longer.” Steve nodded his head. “Well I’m glad to have you back, I know everyone else...especially your dad is too.”

Grabbing a plate for himself, (M/N) joined Steve at the table. “So...anything interesting happen when I was gone?” Steve smirked at him. “You’ve missed a lot. Turns out there were lots of hidden Hydra agents in Shield and that was an ordeal. Also...Bucky’s alive.” (M/N) raised a brow at that. Steve had told him of his time in the war, and his best friend Bucky...but that he died. Apparently that wasn’t the case. “How?” Steve sat his fork down, no longer interested in the food. “Hydra.” (M/N) nodded and gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry Steve. We’ll get him back.” Steve genuinely smiled and with that his appetite seemed to return. “Anyways, what have YOU been doing Mr.I’ve lead armies in war?” (M/N) blushed and looked away as Steve made fun of what he last said to them. “Shut up. I’ve just been doing what I’ve always done...fighting in a seemingly endless battle. But I HAVE been learning different art and stuff from different planets.” Steve seemed to be really interested with that. “Art like drawing and painting?” The boy nodded at him. “Yeah, plus pottery, music, theater. All of that. There’s a lot out there.”

Steve was about to say something when we were joined by some others. “(M/N)!” He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Clint pulled him into a tight hug. “Welcome back kiddo. Oh hey breakfast.” Clint let him go and went to get a plate. Natasha took the chance to rub his head and mess up his head. “Welcome back kid.” She also grabbed a plate and the two of them sat down. Just like Steve had asked before, he told them about what he had been up to. It wasn’t long before Tony and Bruce arrived, his dad sitting next to him. (M/N) noticed how his dad was grinning, almost like he thought it might have been a dream. They had told him that Thor had returned to Asgard for a bit but that he should be back soonish. The group were all enjoying their breakfast and talking when (M/N) heard the sound of a crutch. “Oh hey, there’s a group of people now.” (M/N) turned and smiled at Sheyo who looked a lot better than she had the night before. The avengers were looking at her with mixed emotions, who was she and why was she here...also why was she green.

Quickly standing from his seat (M/N) pulled out his chair offering it to Sheyo who gratefully took it. “How did you sleep? You feeling better?” Sheyo smiled at him. “Very much so. I think I should be fine soon hopefully. Now, are you going to introduce me to everyone?” (M/N) nodded and looked around. “Sheyo these are the Avengers. Steve, Clint, Natasha, you already met Bruce, and...my father. Tony Stark.” Sheyo grinned as she looked from me to Tony, soon she lifted her hand out to him. “Nice to meet you Mr.Stark.” It was obvious that everyone was still confused so (M/N) helped explain everything with Sheyo filling in any gaps. It was very similar to how (M/N) was questioned after the battle of New York.

The conversations were dying down and breakfast was coming to an end. (M/N) was enjoying the time he was spending with his family again, this time with his best friend. As everyone broke from the table Sheyo leaned over to him. “(M/N) a word?” He gave her a nod and excused himself from the rest. He took Sheyo to his room and closed the door. “What’s up?” She sat down on his bed and looked around before looking back at him. “So my leg’s out of commission for at least a couple days, but what are we going to do after that? We can’t stay here forever, you know that.”

(M/N) nodded. “I know. I would stay forever if I could but we can’t. The war is still going on and we have to get back. The first problem we’ll have is to find a way off planet. We’ll need a ship with a hyperdrive to get us back. Plus, we have another problem.” (M/N) took out the two infinity stones he has. “We have these to worry about. We can’t keep them together, it makes them a bigger target. We have to separate them.” Sheyo nodded. “So what’s the plan?” (M/N) laid the stones on his desk. “When Thor get’s here I’ll give him the space stone. Let him take it back to Asgard, it should be safe here. The mind stone, I’ll give to my dad. He and the avengers are the best the earth has. They’ll keep it safe.” He looked to Sheyo who only smiled at him. “Sounds like a good plan. Alright. Guess we get to take a little vacation for a bit.” (M/N) put away the stones into a hidden place and grabbed his sabers. “Come on. You may not be able to train, but I want you to at least give me pointers.” She let out a groan then grabbed her crutch and began following him to the training area.

The tower had changed a lot since the last time he came and the training room was no exception. It was now an ACTUAL training room and not just a boxing ring. “Sir. Your father designed a training program for each of the avengers, including you.” Jarvis spoke up. That made (M/N) surprised. He didn’t think his father would have taken his combat teaching into consideration. “Really?” Jarvis’ voice spoke again. “Yes sir. He studied the videos of you fighting during the battle of new york and based the training for you on them.” He smiled at that, his father really did take care in making sure he was included. “Thanks J. Can you start the training?” Sheyo moved to the side and Jarvis began the training exercise. “Starting simulation.”

The simulation room started to hum and the lights dimmed. A holographic image of a Chituari appeared and it began firing at (M/N). He quickly ignited his lightsabers and began deflecting the bolts back on to the oncoming waves. As the waves of holo enemies came towards him, he switched from defense to attack. He slashed through the oncoming waves, as he was doing it he realized that he had improved during his time gone. Perhaps he’d have to talk to his dad about other fighting stances and techniques to help improve the simulation.

While (M/N) was in the simulation, the door to the viewing room opened and Tony, Steve and Clint walked in. “Heard little Stark war doing the simulation, wanted to see his moves.” Clint said. Sheyo smirked at them and nodded to the simulation. “This is easy for him compared to other things.” They all watched as he did a flip with a landing slash on an enemy. “He’s improved a lot since last time.” Steve noted. “That’s my boy. Takes after his father.” Steve laughed. “I’d say he takes after his mother.” Sheyo raised her brow. She was going to find out who his mother was. Tony scoffed and turned back to watching his son.

Steve turned to Sheyo. “So Sheyo. Since you’re a jedi do you do what he does?” He nodded towards (M/N) and she smiles and nods. “You mean being part of a galactic war? Yep. My master’s Dia. His is Janai. I’m sure you know that bit though. Like we said earlier, we were on a mission when we ended up here.” Sheyo looked at Tony, studying him. “You know. He looks like you a lot. We, Jedi, aren’t supposed to know our parents or form attachments. I don’t believe in that. I think it’s a stupid rule...but you should know there’s still a war going on. If he stays here...they’ll come after him. The Jedi. It won’t be pretty. He might have to leave but that doesn’t mean he wants to. I can see he loves you a lot.” Tony smiled sadly at her and nodded. “I know. When he first left I was angry at everyone, myself, his mom, but never at him. I knew he still had a job to do. When it’s time for him to leave again, I just hope he says goodbye this time.”

The simulation ended and (M/N) exited the room. “Oh, hey guys. Were you all watching me practice?” They all nodded. He turned to Sheyo. “Just like the temple training room.” She laughed at that. Clint lightly punched his shoulder. “Well kid. You definitely put on a show.” (M/N) smirked at looked at Tony. “What can I say I take after my dad.” Tony laughed and pointed at Steve. “I told you! Now…” He wrapped his arm around (M/N)’s shoulder. “Let’s figure out what we’re doing today.”

A/N: I realized I haven’t shown you what Sheyo looks like so here she is!

#marvel #avengers #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #Peter parker x stark reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark x stark reader #tony stark x stark!reader

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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Askplosion #12 2/4:

.:New Miraculous Asks:.

Anonymous said:

Can people just STOP calling Marinette a "stalker"? Like, seriously? Especially TV Tropes. They have her listed under the trope for "Stalker With A Crush" and even have a video source of her(from Copycat) which was taken WAY out of context. They also listed her under "Stalking Is Funny If It Is Female After Male", which IS an existing double standard, but Marinette is still not an example and wouldn't be even if she WERE a stalker, because Wayhem's stalking actually WAS played for laughs!

Granted he was stalking another male and we don't know if he has a crush on him(but if he did it would be...unfortunate), but it's still an example. Plus, they claim that Volpina is about her learning her lesson regarding her stalker tendencies, but that no matter how many times she learns it, it never seems to stick. Yes, because everything is Marinette's fault and she's the stubborn shallow bitch who needs a kick in the ovaries, it's not, you know, the writers making her look bad/OOC!!!

THIS. ALL OF THIS.

Oh my god, I cannot tell you how infuriating it is to see “stalker” get thrown around like that. I would need two hands to count the amount of words that have lost meaning to me because people throw them out wildly and without any self-control. Stalkers engage in far more aggressive and obsessive behavior than Marinette, and usually also feature them harrassing whoever they’re stalking (such as calling them a lot), and they also never stop when they’re asked to. Marinette doesn’t fit the description of harrassment at all; Chat Noir does more than her and I don’t even call his behavior “harrassment” because that’s another word that’s lost all meaning by now and I wouldn’t use it in the first place.

Anyway, I think the Wayhem example is valid because Marinette’s crush on Adrien is written very much like a celebrity crush, so it’s similar territory.

On the note of “Volpina,” I do not understand it considering that Tikki was all on board with Marinette following Lila for the sake of getting the book back; that was one of the cases where there was an alternative motive out of just “follow Adrien” (which is not really something we see Marinette frequently doing; usually when we see her watching Adrien, it’s because she wants to approach but can’t bring herself to).

And yeah, most of the time, it’s just the narrative. The show basically puts it all on Marinette to solve all her personal problems (while constantly piling more stuff onto her) instead of getting active encouragement (no, eye rolls, verbal jabs, and groans do not count) from her friends and Tikki.

Like, what am I supposed to expect from Marinette when her friends still actively support Adrienette? By supporting Adrienette, regardless of the comments they make, they’re supporting Marinette’s behavior. Same with Tikki.

Anonymous said:

Have you noticed that with love interests of Marinette and Adrien, it's always the girls who like Adrien who are shallow, mean bitches and competition to Marinette(like Lila, Chloe, Kagami at first), while the boys who like Marinette are nice, friendly, and have no competition between each other whatsoever, sometimes not even knowing there IS competition(Adrien, Luka, Nathaniel). It's just really unfair and sexist because it's like girls can't be civil/friends and must fight over a guy.

That’s been a common topic of salt for a long while, yeah, I just don’t talk about it much.

It’s a difficult subject because I’m the type who can’t hold it against the guy characters (so I won’t dislike Kagami for “being similar to Chloe/Lila in terms of aggressiveness,” for example) because it feels wrong to, but I can hate the trend itself.

It’s also doubly unfair because Marinette’s crushes blip away quickly (like Nathaniel and Nino) while Adrien’s crushes stick around specifically to upset Marinette, so it’s like the show is saying, “if there’s a character who loves/supports Marinette, they gotta either stop or leave” (I’m pretty sure I got a “Didn’t Need Burrow” about the narrative sending Luka away and I don’t doubt it).

Anonymous said:

Personal Heacanon: Marinette and Chloé used to be friends until Marinette found out what Chloé (and Sabrina) has been using her commisions (mostly elaborate traps "to guard off thieves") for. This is why Chloé has it out for Marinette specifically. This is why everyone stood by as it happened. This is why she hates liars. This is why her "friends" are so casual at making jabs at her self-stem (they never believed she never knew what Chloé was truly up to). And also why Lila had it so easy at gaslighting everyone againts her (she's "relapsing" and it's easy to think she "deserves it").

Dang. That’s intense.

Yeah, Punch has given quite a few ideas about Marinette and Chloe previously being friends if I recall correctly. I like the idea even if I never use that kind of idea myself.

Anonymous said:

I feel like Adrien could be a really cool character if they focused less on romance? If that wasn’t his only motivation, and they developed his friendships more, and they didn’t have this entitlement. I also would like more actual friendship in regards to adrien & marinette? And him actually having interest in her but denying it bc he thinks he can only like ladybug. I feel like the sexism of the creators/writers are seeping into the character a lot and ruining it, too... It makes me really sad.

I’m hoping Adrigami will help adrien sort out a lot of his stuff bc Kagami doesn’t take any crap, and I actually really like their relationships, but I don’t have much hope. I would love for the show to use her and this relationship as a way to call out and develop adrien, but I doubt that will happen bc that would mean acknowledging his flaws. It’s just disappointing, really....

Yeah, Adrien could’ve been interesting, especially if they used Adrimi to its full potential, but they don’t. The show also has a history of letting Chat Noir get away with things and not punishing him so I wouldn’t be surprised.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I don't even ship the love square anymore, but Fanon Adrienette is a thousand times better than canon Adrienette(the same goes for every other side of the love square, obvs). It's what the canon should be but we fans can only wish. Take, for example, the whole "she's just a friend" statement. In canon Adrien makes it because he genuinely sees Marinette as that and nothing more(which of course isn't bad, it's just sad when Marinette's always humiliated for the sake of getting his love).

In fanon, he makes it because he's actually in denial about his feelings for Marinette(which reminds me of a definition for "just a friend" on Urban Dictionary, which had Adrien drawing her name with hearts and flowers around it, and yet, when Nino asked if he had a crush, he STILL insists she's just a friend!), but realizes his mistake later.

In canon, Adrien thinks Marinette is Ladybug only because it's convenient for him since she's in love with him. In fanon, he actually does notice things about her that make her similar to Ladybug, and falls for her BEFORE knowing their identities because he sees the same qualities of bravery, strength, and femininity that he sees in Ladybug(I remember one fanfic where Marinette stood up to GABRIEL'S overprotectiveness, and Adrien could only admire how much she resembled Ladybug in that moment).

In canon, Chat is ignorant of Ladybug's feelings and agency and doesn't comfort Marinette when she's sad; instead, she has to comfort him. In fanon, Chat Noir cares about how Ladybug feels and values her agency, his jokes are genuinely funny(although canon Chat can be funny too, it's just the where and when), and he backs off when Ladybug is uncomfortable. In fanon, Chat Noir genuinely helps Marinette when she's sad and sometimes comes to see her just because, not out of plot convenience(and calls her "Purrincess" a lot more, why did the English dub just change it to "little lady"?).

It makes me think, maybe, just maybe, if these things were canon and the world was fair to Marinette, I might actually ship it; it might actually have a fighting chance against Lukanette and Adrimi. But while all these things are cute, it only makes canon more disappointing. Fanon is doing what canon should be doing. Fanon is supposed to build off of what canon gave us and expand on it. Fanon shouldn't create its own alternative because canon isn't giving us enough to chew on, it shouldn't have to.

Sadly, I think most of the fans, including the Adriennette-shipping ones, should be on some level in charge of the show; things would be SO MUCH better for the main ship(which isn't even progressing that far) and SO MUCH fairer to Marinette if that were so.

I feel this very much so. The show has been around for a long time and fandom can shape a lot of things. I think the love square wouldn’t be as beloved as it is if not for the fandom expanding on it and making it better (obviously, in some cases, they don’t make it better, but the love square is plentiful so there has to be some good takes out there).

Some shows do in fact let the fandom build off the foundation it makes and then you have things like Astruc outright lying and saying that Chat apologized in “Frozer” when he, in fact, did not, which makes everything more muddled.

maxwaspace said:

What is your opinion of the Scarlet Lady webcomic by Z.O.E?

I’m not into the love square no matter how better one might do it (it’s been soured too much for me in the show), but I do get happy seeing Zoe’s art and wondering how she’ll change/expand on the plotpoints in certain episodes.

Anonymous said:

Not sure it anyone's already said this but-

Canon Audrey: you're fired!

MC Audrey: you're hired!

Okay but hear me out.

Canon Audrey being put in charge of dealing with Miraculous’ writers, MC Audrey put in charge of hiring new ones.

Anonymous said:

Something the genuinely scares me is how close some people’s predictions where for miraculous I just saw predictions people made for season 3 and it’s worrying that the worst possible scenario for them ended up happening beat for beat.

The show can be very, very predictable that way. The way I’d describe it is that I do expect these bad things to happen in really convoluted and dumb ways, but it still surprises me by exactly how predictable it ends up being. I mean, I catch certain things really easily and the phrase, “the whole episode just flashed before my eyes,” is something I commonly say.

Predictability isn’t entirely bad, but when the prediction is unwanted? Yeah, there’s a problem.

Anonymous said:

You could basically summarize the difference between what Miraculous fans want and what the Miraculous writers want by using the John Mulaney "Delta Airlines" bit as a template.

I had to get said bit explained to me since I haven’t seen that one, but yes, now I can confirm.

Anonymous said:

How do you think Chat Blanc would play out if Marinette and/or Adrien were already dating other people? Like if Marinette had already moved on, do you think the narrative would punish her for it?

I imagine it would have Adrien still be crushing on Ladybug and he’d break it off with this other person when he realized that Ladybug is Marinette, which the narrative would then promote as “the correct decision” because they’re soulmates and such. If Marinette has moved on, she probably won’t care about his advances, which would lead to Adrien getting upset and maybe being convinced that an identity reveal would solve the problem and/or speeding up getting Hawk Moth defeated/arrested.

Marinette would probably be blaming herself for not being “sensitive enough” to Adrien/Chat’s feelings, which is what led to him being akumatized.

I could also see the girl squad forcing Marinette to give Adrien the present similar to canon, but maybe the beret doesn’t have a heart and Marinette isn’t actually interested, but rolls with it because the girl squad insists on it (probably convinced that she’s denying her own feelings).

Anonymous said:

What do you think constitutes as a "strong female character"? Do you think the girls and women in Miraculous Ladybug are "strong female characters"? Why or why not(I'm sorry if this sounded like a school assignment, by the way!)? Because to me I feel like a lot of them are given depth and focus, but they're often forced into stereotypes, and let's not forget how the show derail's Marinette's character for a joke. But lots of people think a strong girl has to be boyish or else she's weak somehow.

“I'm sorry if this sounded like a school assignment“ dfhgkfdgfg

I guess it depends on what you consider a strong female character. Like, can a shy female character be “strong” if maybe she holds firm to her morals or can fight people off?

I think Marinette has the potential to be a “strong female character” but the show nerfs her using her crush on Adrien (which raises so many red flags that I can’t cover here) and all it’s really done for her is get her laughed at and humiliated. If her life didn’t revolve and get ruined so badly due to her crush on Adrien, I think she’d be a strong female character (I know what the Season 3 finale did but I’m not buying any of it until we see proper results in Season 4).

That’s not to say that characters with crushes can’t be “strong” but it has to not control their life. I mean... okay...

Would Sabrina be considered a “strong female character” if she recognized Chloe’s treatment of her and worked hard to get out of it? Is the want and attempt to move on from something what constitutes “strength,” or do they have to succeed?

My conflict is always... I want to give Marinette credit for trying to move on from Adrien, but I know that it’s just the writing trying to make things seem tense/strained just to make it feel “better” when they actually get together. You see it all the time in anime/manga where a misunderstanding/self-doubt ends up hurting the relationship of the main ship; it’s to force conflict and separation, giving the ship something to overcome so they can get together.

I will say though that shy characters can be strong, physically strong characters can be weak, and so on. What defines a “strong” character may be vague to me, but I take it as I go. I would like to say that Marinette is a strong character on her own because she wants to improve even if she fails, but I also don’t want to give the writing credit for something that ultimately means nothing. I want to say that she’s strong but the narrative seems to do everything in its power to tell me that she’s weak.

Let me give a non-Miraculous example: say that you have a pacifist character, but there’s a villain who has done terrible things, cannot be redeemed (plz do not swarm my inbox with “anyone can be redeemed” comments, this is a hypothetical), and any method besides killing them right there and now would lead to more destruction/lives lost.

You might say that that the pacifist character would be “strong” in sticking by their morals and trying to find another way even if they ultimately would fail and the villain would get away, but an argument can also be made that the pacifist is being stubborn and letting people die because they are unwilling to rethink the morality they’ve chosen. Is a pacifist a pacifist if they’re letting the blood of other people spill because they themselves aren’t willing to have the blood be on their own hands? Are they “strong” because they stuck by what they believe in or are they “weak” because they refused to expand what they believed was “right”?

You could apply that to Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender (I know he’s not female but stick with me here). He was faced with having to murder the Fire Lord to the point where a past reincarnation who was raised on the same values as him didn’t agree with him. I think it was acceptable for him to try and stick to his morals and find another way, but he came up empty and the show had to give him a way of taking away the Fire Lord’s power so Aang didn’t have to make that choice in the end (there’s also that thing with the rock to his back and having to give up Katara but we’re not getting into that).

People could argue that, “oh, he admitted to himself that he’d have to kill the Fire Lord and then he got the Deus Ex Machina so it’s okay!” but the problem there is that the narrative basically gave two options: Murder or Take Away the Guy’s Bending, but there was incredible risk involved in the latter option. Aang almost lost himself against the Fire Lord and risked everything so that he would not have to kill him.

I would argue it makes him weak. I would argue that needing the narrative to favor him makes him weak (which is one plus for Marinette I guess the narrative is usually against her???). The lack of ability to understand his past lives and see things from their perspective made him weak for me, as him holding so stiffly to his values made it appear that he felt his ways were “better” than everyone else’s (which had been a long-standing problem for me and I never forgave him for “The Southern Raiders”).

Anonymous said:

What do you think of adriens mom Emilie. Like what do you how do you feel she wound up using the peacock miraculous personally I’m leaning into her being a villain due to the fact that there aren’t any stories of a peacock hero (unless they retcon that) and that her husband is well freaking Gabriel who has no real form of morals. Also I can’t help but think of how they got the miraculous in the first place. Anyways overall what do you think they will do with her or think of her right now.

I see her like I see any dead mom in media (I know she’s comatose, not the point); a tool for angst. Her reasons for using the peacock could be anything (might even be that she was given it and simply wearing it was damaging to her, or she transformed once to try it out and that was that), but I just don’t feel strongly about her because I’m not invested in the Agreste plot.

Me personally, I headcanon that she’s kind of like Bustier where she appears good but is actually very damaging. Instead of the generic “good mom who tried to do good things for her son but folded to angry dad’s demands,” I would like to imagine that she’s selfish in her own right and was part of the reason for Adrien never going to public school; she’s possessive herself (a contributor to why the Agrestes are so wealthy) and wants her son to remain close to her even if she genuinely cares about him and should want him to be able to go and learn from the world.

But I imagine they’ll probably make her either “pure good mom” or “villain like Gabriel where she’s ‘sympathetic’ but also evil.” The show has never been good at doing gray morality (see my MC Audrey for example) and usually messes things up if they try.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I don't like Mme. Bustier, but if they DARE pull the pregnancy jokes with her--and I don't mean "pregnancy puns", like those would be ACTUALLY funny without offending anybody, but "ooh, she's pregnant so now she's moody and has wacky cravings and screams at everybody and is a nightmare to be around" and other things that just scream "male writer who mocks female biology and doesn't understand women", I'm going to cry. We already don't like Bridezilla, and this isn't any better.

Ugh. I don’t even like pregnancy plots in general or anything related to pregnancy (my followers who have been around forever and know of my hatred towards babies: wow what a shock!!), so adding on “jokes” like that?

Hard pass. I already don’t like Bustier so the mere idea of her potentially getting any focus there--

Anonymous said:

What do you think of the Alyanette ship? Personally, I'm ambivalent to it, but I can sorta see Alya being bi and having a crush on Marinette but Marinette doesn't like her back. Or she could have a crush on Ladybug. But I don't like the idea of it being mutual, considering how pushy and invasive Alya is. It also doesn't make sense for her to so insistently push the love square if she likes Marinette. But perhaps that's where some of her sarcastic quips come from: jealousy(cliche I know).

I’m always here for bi representation (no one can take my bi disaster headcanon’d Nino and Kagami away from me), but I actively dislike the Alyanette ship. I was okay with it back in Season 1 but it started to fall off in Season 2 and officially die in Season 3.

I don’t judge people by what they ship (...much; there’s obviously that little part of me that can’t help giving the side eye) but yeah, not for me.

Anonymous said:

As a different flavor of angst: Can you imagine Marinette’s class going to Riverside park in NYC and Tikki spotting the Jeanne D’Arc statue? I always wondered what it would have been like for Tikki to see Jeanne burned alive by the people she swore to protect. I think Nobody briefly touched on this for Witch Hunter, but not many people I have seen (probably missed something) talk about it. What do you think?

I’m indifferent to past holders getting mentioned and acknowledged; not sure how I feel about them given specific names and such (I kinda like seeing their designs and such but making them actual people from the real world? mmmm not here for that as much).

I like the idea though of addressing those real world things and having the kwami reacting to them. Like, it did make me genuinely sad in the New York special to see Liiri come out and call out Gilbert’s name, only to see this other guy standing there and we know that this Gilbert guy is very much dead by now.

On a related note, I’d be all for a special getting into a kwami’s problem and not making everything Marinette’s fault, so having Marinette maybe helping a kwami through theri issues and it leads into getting more lore on the kwami.

Anonymous said:

I just had an epiphany today: People who hate on Marinette for being "mean" to Lila/teachers telling Marinette to ignore Chloe and Lila and treat them nicely are the equivalent of real adults telling girls who are being bullied by boys that "he does it because he likes you." Ladies, raise your hands if something like this has ever happened: "Jamal tried to cut my cheek open with a razor!" "Oh, Aaliyah, he's only doing it because he likes you." Now that I've seen it I can't unsee it. Disgusting.

“Marinette, they’re just jealous of you, that’s all! Can you really get angry at them for that??”

us: yes

Anonymous said:

Thinking about Puppeteer 2 and how Marinette's identity could have been blown if she had talked to Tikki because of Plagg's incompetence angers me beyond belief because I know, just KNOW, if that had actually happened, Marinette would take ALL THE BLAME for it like there's no tomorrow. It would never occur to anyone that she normally talks to Tikki while she's alone and had no idea that the "statue" in front of her was a real boy AND her partner, or that Plagg should have said something. Ugh.

I KNOW, RIGHT????

That was such a big annoyance to me in that episode. They literally neglected the actual reality of what would happen (”Oh, Tikki! No one’s here, I could practice on this Adrien statue!”) for the sake of humiliating Marinette... again.

Anonymous said:

Your comment about how Ladybug always says she's "in love with someone else", as if that should matter diddly squat when the problem is with Chat not respecting her feelings on their own without another guy in the picture reminds me of a #YesAllWomen post I saw on Twitter. It read: "'I have a boyfriend' is the easiest way to get a man to leave you alone. Because he respects another man more than you." It's just like this except without the dating and the fact that Chat DOESN'T leave her alone.

And then you remember that the “someone else” she’s in love with is the exact person who’s disrespecting her feelings and you proceed to hate everything.

Anonymous said:

The statue scene in Puppeteer 2 could've easily kept its humor by having Adrien fall over when Marinette puts her weight on him and almost kisses him, then Marinette goes "Gasp! You're not a statue!" Marinette is always being forced to humiliate herself in the name of "love", even when she doesn't deserve it, so for once, let Adrien be the one utterly humiliated of his own doing. Then they could have a sad scene where Adrien ACTUALLY comforts her and...wait for it...LEARNS A LESSON.

Alternatively, someone who works on the statues comes in and, also mistaking Adrien for a statue, tries to do some sort of work on him.

Anonymous said:

Since we can all agree that this show is sadly not very good at girl power/inclusivity, how would you tweak the show to make it more genuinely female-empowering/inclusive(can include racial/sexual inclusivity)? Besides the obvious(including more female and/or POC writers on board).

Orientation-related inclusivity isn’t even that hard. Have a character get a call from someone and just be like, “oh, it’s my boyfriend/girlfriend,” and then other companies can just dub it if they’re so afraid of characters who like the same gender.

Firstly, I’d have Marinette learn and become more of a mentor character to other characters (male and female), lean more into more “females in power” (like Mylene showing genuine interest in being the next mayor), either less focus on the “girl antagonists are evil/unredeemable” plots or at least make them legitimate threats that don’t need the narrative to cater to them to make them threatening.

Secondly, Adrien needs to STOP being the one to keep telling Marinette/Ladybug what’s right or the way to do things. I can’t stress this one enough.

Thirdly, maybe not having a season dedicated to three guys getting miraculouses while all the girls are either questioned, self-reveal, or get their miraculous revoked. That might help. :P

Anonymous said:

The saddest thing is that I can see ML going through a "Fate: The Winx Saga" in the future and having an awful, edgy reboot to appeal more to adults.

Different writers probably but at what cost.

+ more sexualization obviously since that’s usually what “more adult” means; Audrey gets the cleavage that her design clearly calls for at least, but again, at what cost

Anonymous said:

I hate what TheOnesWhoMustNotBeNamed have done to the Love Square but I also don't like Lukanette and Adrigami (nothing against the characters themselves). This is going to be one of those shows that regardless what ship wins is going to disappoint around 90% of the fans.

No hate for not liking Lukanette/Adrimi, I understand that.

And yeah, there’s a <1% chance that they can pull out anything satisfying.

Anonymous said:

Off topic, but I realized why I don’t like Clara Nightingale’s design, there’s no light to her eyes, makes her look kinda dead, kinda evil.

DQ tend to do that when they’re the ones animating. I remember “Christmaster” doing particularly well with the eye highlights.

Anonymous said:

What do you think about the future Miraculous specials (Africa, Japan, Rio, Shanghai, London)?

Will be happy to see a new setting because it shows different cultures (though there’s always the chance that the culture is poorly-represented) but that’s basically it. Specials are usually just a cash grab that are just there and any expansion on lore and such is shunted to the side for the sake of love square drama, judging by the New York special.

Anonymous said:

I haven't watched the New York Special yet, don't think I can bring myself to tbh, but this whole time I thought Aeon was the name of the superhero persona, and that the fandom was collectively calling her civilian identity Uncanny Valley bc her model was that bad.

I was genuinely shocked to find out that her civilian identity is named Aeon and that her hero name is Uncanny Valley bc that is not only a stupid name, but kind of insulting since she's an android character of color. (Well, she's a character of color except for when shes running around as a pale naked superhero. Majestia, give your kid some pants!)

oof

Yeah, the Uncanny Valley thing threw me off too. “Aeon” really does sound like a superhero name.

I can’t believe they made her a robot and were like, “mannequin robot design.” I question so many things about the decisions made around Aeon fdkjgjfdg.

Anonymous said:

Do you think they’ll ever leave DuPont college, since it’s a middle school (essentially) and go to a lycee (high school)? I think they’re in their second year of four at DuPont, judging by the previous class picture.

I doubt it, unless we get more seasons? It would mean having to model a whole new school.

Anonymous said:

So I was reading again tikki brand boyfriend and this come to my mind and I have to share it with you.... Tikki is the mother in law of marinette in the future lol (sorry if this isn't the right blog to ask this) (I love yours au, you are amazing!)

(this is the wrong blog, yes, you’re looking for mc-lukanette, not miraculouscontent)

Thank you though! i agree, that’s cute, ahaha~

Anonymous said:

Did you know that there's a TV Tropes page for LadyBugOut?! And someone even left a review there saying they liked it and that they were sick of the Marinette embarrassing and wanted some Lukanette. They say your au is their favorite au in the fandom! Isn't that just swell?

Yes! And the TV Tropes page is fantastic! Thank you!

Anonymous said:

OMG IVE FIGURED OUT WHY MARINETTE IS UNABLE TO GET OVER ADRIEN!!! She’s under the influence of a love potion called Amortentia, which causes a powerful obsession from the drinker (it’s from Harry Potter). That’s why she’s so obsessed, and that’s why she can’t get over Adrien! She literally can’t while under the influence of the potion! She just needs to drink the antidote, and then she can finally be free!

Oh no!! Someone get this poor girl an antidote, STAT!

Anonymous said:

I was just reading your review of Silencer(which I totally agree with by the way), and when I got to the part about how Ladybug lost her voice and her powers are voice-activated, it got me thinking about how annoying Chat was being(as another anon noted, which I also agree with), and then it hit me. While it may just come off as his usual flirtatious banter that's innocent, the fact that he doesn't even seem to mind Ladybug not being able to detransform because then he gets to "be with her" forever and ever and ever amen just proves your point about Chat Blanc. He cares more about being with Ladybug than Ladybug herself, so long as she gets to keep being Ladybug "for him", that's what matters. Remember that the girl he fell in love with was the superhero persona and not the girl under the mask. He couldn't care less about who that actual girl is so long as she's his "lady" and loves him back. He just wants her to uphold the image of his strong and powerful "lady" that he admires.

(Glad you enjoyed the “Silencer” review! Thanks!)

Full agreement here! Chat isn’t really in love with Ladybug; he’s in love with the image he’s made of her and wants to keep it that way, no matter how much he may suggest otherwise.

Anonymous said:

Luka is soooo much more interesting with Marinette like, why isn't he the love interest? Same with Kagami for Adrien. To be honest it would be cool if the show set up the love square at first but then slowly started to change to Lukanette and Adrimi once Marinette and Adrien realized their crushes were just not working out. They can still have an identity reveal, but they'll refreshingly stay friends. But the writers don't have the ovaries to do that, I get it. -_- Such wasted potential.

They could’ve done a really interesting bait-and-switch but they decided not to. The love square is full of holes and flaws that they’re very likely never going to address (outside of anything used for that “gAsP maybe they won’t get together???” drama), so having it actually be addressed and be like, “okay, we’re better as friends,” would’ve gone over so much better.

Anonymous said:

I hear people complain all the time that Lukanette is toxic because Luka is merely the "second choice" for Marinette, and that she just uses him as a rebound when she fails to get Adrien's attention. But the truth is, that's not how it is at all. Luka's not anywhere near her "second choice". He gives her tranquility and stability, and she helps him loosen up and have someone to express his creativity towards. Plus, it's totally normal for teens to have two crushes whom they can't choose between.

THIS

ALL OF THIS

I am so tired of people saying that Marinette is “using” Luka in someway as if it’s a conscious decision on her part to take advantage him.

Luka makes her happy. That’s it. Luka is aware of how she feels and respects her space, but I guess that makes him a “pushover” and “he lets Marinette walk all over him” because he didn’t get upset with her and embarrass her in “Desperada” by calling her out over her Adrien blindness.

Anonymous said:

People who say "I like Marinette but she's getting to be pretty embarrassing sometimes" really don't get that the show constantly forces her into situations where she's embarrassed and made out to be incompetent. Like, it's not her that's embarrassing, it's the show that's always embarrassing her. Kind of like Serena/Usagi in the (shitty)DiC English dub of Sailor Moon. It's getting irritating to hear people continually rag on Marinette as if SHE'S the clueless idiot, rather than the writers.

There are some things that happen to her that she literally could not have predicted. Like, just saying, if I had someone claiming to be my friend, I would expect them to know I’m anxiety-prone and not pretend to be a statue just

Anonymous said:

Remarried Empress Anon: I can see Felix as the Duke and maybe Jagged Stone as Kosair (but an uncle and not her brother).

I agree with both of those! Jagged Stone as Kosair/Koshar, omg.

Plus, the idea of Luka and Felix being “friends” amuses me.

Anonymous said:

You know, I find Felix/Marinette content to be really funny. Because, Felix in fanfiction is a completely different character than his canon self- with a different personality, background, and maybe even last name. So, the entire Marinette/Felix fandom is literally just Marinette/oc except it's always the same oc

I struggle to get fully behind Felinette because so much of it does rely on fandom interpretation and playing with fanon in general (plus, having to clarify “I ship fanon Felinette” is weird).

I do however agree that it’s interesting that it ultimately comes to a character built on fanon grounds, and how much more acceptance characters get when they’re based on “canon”/originally canon characters.

Anonymous said:

How would you write the Miraculous PV version? Just wondering.

I don’t think I could without drastically changing characters and at that point it’s not really the PV anymore. “Bridgette“ and Felix’s relationship is the exact opposite of what I like to watch/read about so yeah, changing both of them to what I like would either be too severe of a rewrite or me working too far within the restrictions set out for me.

Anonymous said:

There's a YouTube video claiming that someone will figure out that Marinette is Ladybug and that she will suffer...I mean, yeah? Isn't that what we've already been getting? I mean, not the first part, obviously(and when we have, it's been undone), but the second? Have we been watching the same show? No, have we? Because Marinette suffering, sadly, is not anything new.

lol “Marinette will suffer!” and us like “did you seriously use future tense as if Marinette isn’t already suffering??”

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one who feels like Miraculous Ladybug is feeling less like a magical girl show and more like just another superhero show? This isn't even because of "girl power" or anything like that, or the fact that there are male Miraculous wielders like Chat and Carapace and(long dreamy sigh) Viperion. This is because the outfits don't really resemble magical girl outfits at all and, after watching various magical girl shows both in and out of Japan, Miraculous is starting to feel like its genre is shifting from magical girl to that of "superhero" in its broadest term. And I know I said I wouldn't bring up "girl power", but the fact that so many of the girls aren't treated respectfully by the narrative and are pitted against each other, to the point where they're more likely to lose their Miraculouses or reveal their identities(which often culminates in losing their Miraculouses), only adds to this because the Magical Girl genre is about female empowerment and solidarity.

It's sad because I really don't want this show to become one of those shows where "there might be one or two girls, and she might even be the lead, but it's still mostly guys who are front and center doing the heavy lifting" that we get all the time. Things are starting to change for the better and I want Miraculous to capitalize on that emergence of female empowerment as much as possible. Plus, with the New York Special, the magical girl aspects of the show have been toned down if not obliterated entirely: the transformations for the superheroes only last one minute, and they feel more like the Avengers than Sailor Senshi(which I don't mean in the most literal sense, of course, I am in no way saying that none of them can be male.). Plus they pulled the whole "Samus is a Girl" thing TWICE! TWICE! Come on, if you're show is really about girl power, it shouldn't come as a surprise when girls are, well...powerful! And especially not in Magical Girl for obvious reasons.

So while I'm not saying it's bad for a show to shift from the original genre it was meant to be in(although it must be done carefully, otherwise it looks like you don't know what you're doing), and there is of course no wrong way to do Magical Girl(except for Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna, do NOT go there!), it does make me wonder. And it's kind of disappointing, because I really love Magical Girl and I feel like shows like these could introduce the genre to a wider audience and could renovate it as well. But unfortunately they're going a different direction, and that makes me sad. If not for the transformation phrases/sequences and the fact that they have animal companions, I imagine most people would be totally clueless as to how on Earth this show counts as Magical Girl. It still counts as such for me, but it's deviating farther and farther away from the genre to the point where it becomes nigh unrecognizable, or like even the show writers forgot what genre it's supposed to be. Sadly.

Yikes.

Yeah, I can’t imagine how seeing this show must be like for people that are more savvy with magical girl shows. Me personally, I had to be told that it was a magical girl show because it honestly just gave off the “superhero show” vibes even with the magical girl-esque transformations.

Plus, with magical girls, you usually expect a group of girls? Here, we have Ladybug and Chat Noir, who the writers keep being like “they’re equals” which... yeah, that’s fine but it doesn’t really work with the idea that this is a magical girl show? I mean, “Party Crasher” was basically Ladybug and her reverse harem of superhero guys who just got out of a “males-only” party.

I dunno, coming from someone who doesn’t have a lot of experience with magical girl shows, it just doesn’t have what I would expect when I think “magical girl show featuring a healthy dose of girl power.”

Anonymous said:

I was once reading this review of Miraculous Ladybug called "Miraculous Ladybug is a Hot Mess: A Rant", and while it's a good video and you should watch it and I totally agree with everything she said(plus, it made me laugh a few times!), I had a huge issue with the way she made Marinette's stammering around Adrien to be ALL HER FAULT since he's never mean to her and is always patient with her(yeah, more like oblivious), but that "she's incompetent" and "cockblocks herself", which annoys me because Marinette on her own is not the incompetent one here(I also don't like the term "cockblock", like, can we not? But anyway...), rather, it's the writers who make her incompetent for cheap laughs and don't allow her to improve or let anyone(but Luka, bless his kind soul!) truly be on her side. She then had the nerve to say "Marinette needs to learn to define herself outside of who she's crushing on", when, NO, once again, the WRITERS are the ones who define her by her crush on Adrien.

It's one thing to blame a character for something even when she's clearly written by a writer, because characters are supposed to be consistent yet flexible and have free will in-universe. But when she's written this inconsistently/it's obvious the writers have it out for her(to the point where they even say it) it is nigh impossible to pretend it's an aspect of the character herself and not the writers at fault. THAT'S where you draw the line between blaming the character vs the writer.

In fact, speaking of Luka, she also said that she wants the show to get rid of Luka because he's just a "plot device" and has no reason to like her beyond the fact that she's a "funny girl". She also said that Luka is a stereotype of the "cute bad boys who are emo", when that's blatantly untrue. She's allowed to not like Lukanette but all the things she's saying really ignore the point of his character and that his life DOESN'T revolve around Marinette; the writers simply don't respect him.

Even worse, she contradicted herself by saying that Lukanette is pointless because "we all know that Marinette is going to get with Adrien; it's endgame so why does the show even bother with Luka?" Then right after that says that Kagami's okay and that it's okay for Adrien to move onto Kagami because Ladybug has rejected him as Chat so many times(which is apparently not the case for Adriennette because "MaRiNeTtE's JuSt InCoMpEtEnT" right?). So teenage girls aren't allowed to like other boys or date more than one boy, yet teenage boys can date as many chicks as they like. Nice.

And apparently, any problem in a relationship or potential relationship is the girl's fault no matter what. She can't approach him because Goddess forbid girls not always be perfect and capable? She's incompetent and it's all her fault she can't properly talk to a perfectly nice, cute, FAMOUS boy. She rejects him every time he confesses despite him knowing it will fail. Her fault for being mean and not giving him a chance. She gets tired of chasing him and decides to look at someone else since it's not like she's legally married to Boy #1? She should stick with the original boy since they're gonna get together anyway. He gets tired of chasing her and decides to look at someone else since it's not like he's legally married to Girl #1? She should've realized his feelings for her and returned them since they're gonna be endgame anyway. Has this lady ever even been a teenage girl?

Plenty of teenage girls get tongue-tied around the one they love even if he or she is a perfectly nice, sweet person, it doesn't mean they're incompetent(especially when the girls are fictional characters in a world set out to punish them for not making progress and for trying to make progress at the same time, and the fact that the boy is a celebrity who is always made oblivious and kept distant enough from the girl so she can keep putting him on a pedestal and never truly get to know him). Plenty of teenage girls lose interest in one boy and so fall for another. Yet it's somehow only okay for boys to do it? Seriously?

And then for the episode "Ladybug", the reviewer continues to rag on Marinette, blaming her for the fact that her reaction to getting expelled was "I can't let that nasty Hawkmoth win", claiming she wasn't reacting like a normal teen or human in general would react in that scenario, completely ignoring the fact that it's TIKKI who doesn't comfort Marinette and forces her to focus on her duties as Ladybug and almost getting akumatized. She's right about the plot moving too fast, but she doesn't take into account WHY it's moving too fast, because the show doesn't focus on Marinette's inner struggle and what she has to go through. Instead of giving her time to process her thoughts after all that goes on and providing Tikki as a source of comfort and support(which she's, you know, SUPPOSED to be), they make Tikki berate her and force Marinette to push it to the side.

She's never allowed to feel. And that's why it hurts all the more when this woman insults Marinette for her perceived ineptitude, and she's fully allowed to dislike Marinette, critique her behaviors, dislike Luka, critique his role in the story etc., just don't reinforce a double standard as you do so and look closer: ultimately most of Marinette's problems are due to her not being permitted to FEEL. She's not allowed to be nervously in love, or be calm, or be offended, or be just not ready.

The writers keep pushing her in one direction, to be emotionless, to be selfless, to be nice, to be honest, to be "the mature/responsible one" to be a perfect little "Purrincess", to not push for or want anything for herself, even though the show is supposed to be about girl power! She does somewhat touch on that by saying that Ladybug never gets to "take a hit" and that the Marichat scene in Glaciator was too short, but she never goes into why everything is too-fast paced. And if she did, she wouldn't be saying everything she does about Marinette and Luka. Because Luka is more than just the "plot device" she dismisses him as.

He's like a calm oasis, the apple of the hurricane who keeps Marinette calm and just lets. her. breathe. He's possibly the only person who doesn't berate her, who doesn't mimic her, who doesn't insult her, who doesn't ignore her. And the one time he does, he apologizes RIGHT AWAY when he sees how sad she looks. And the funny thing is, I used to hate that scene, because when I first saw it, I thought "Oh man! Luka did the same thing as everyone else did once!" But now I see that it serves as a contrast, whether intentionally or unintentionally, to the other characters in the show. Whereas they never apologize for how they treat Marinette(and often she somehow ends up apologizing instead, sadly) and in fact seem oblivious to it at times or just don't care, Luka notices, Luka cares, and Luka apologizes. That shows that he cares about her and her feelings, unlike the rest of the characters in the show.

And while they do care about her, they're never held accountable for how they treat her. Anarka and Plagg are probably the only exceptions that I can think of(who contribute to the plot of course), but they're obviously not love interests, and the video doesn't talk about them, so I won't talk about them either. But my point is that this review, while good in other ways, is still problematic in this regard, for how it completely ignores Marinette's struggles and how they affect her, as well as the value of Luka's character(even if the show doesn't recognize it at times) and the POSITIVE effect they have on each other(especially since he actually, genuinely, wholeheartedly loves her and is patient with her, since Adrien is barely even her friend and Chat is pushy and entitled. And he has a life outside of her too, which this video chooses to ignore.)! So yeah, I'm sorry this took so long, but I just had to protect my favorite characters because that video did them so dirty. Thank you for coming to my Lukanette Ted Talk! Have a miraculous day! ;3

...Wow????

Can I just say wow??

Firstly, kudos to you for having the patience to not only write all of that, but simultaneous deal within Tumblr’s limitations while doing so? I almost wish I had a video detailing all of these topics (not exactly a video response to that person, but just detailing all of this without explicitly calling people out).

Secondly, I absolutely, 100% feel you on the double standards. I have seen so much hypocrisy in my experiences and it’s insane how people will bash Marinette relentlessly and then let Adrien off with a bunch of excuses, or hate Luka for essentially existing and then accept Kagami.

I also hate the idea of disliking Luka because he’s there to make Marinette feel better, and then liking Kagami because she causes conflict, like the implication is that conflict equals good and things that make Marinette feel loved and cared for are bad because love square endgame, I guess.

It’s exhausting, especially when Marinette is fourteen, clearly tries, but is getting no support. Like, have you ever thought how weird it was that Tom and Sabine seemingly knew back in “Gamer” that Marinette was crushing on Adrien, but in “Weredad,” they don’t worry about the fact that Marinette is into someone else or wonder what might’ve happened with Adrien, like if he might’ve hurt her in some way? If the assumption is, “oh, they just think that’s a teenage thing, flip-flopping between love interests,” well... Tom clearly takes what he thinks to be her current crush very seriously, and even if it was true that they presume she’s just flip-flopping, that really doesn’t show them to see Marinette as more than just a clumsy teenager-in-love stereotype.

So yeah, the characters who are meant to be there to support her ask no questions, but here’s Luka with his sweet “you can tell me everything or nothing, you can be yourself around me,” line, and yet... Luka is the problem???

Sure, how dare this sweet boy NOT cause Marinette more stress. He makes Marinette feel better about herself and therefore he’s “pointless” (which, really, is the true mark of someone who doesn’t care about Marinette).

Ugh.

But yeah, in conclusion, people can have insane double standards when it comes to Luka and Marinette, and thank you for the Lukanette Ted Talk, this was a really good piece! You have a nice day too! ;3

(note: the below ask seems to cut short at the end and I didn’t get a message back about it but I at least wanted to have it here so the anon has (most of?) their story heard even if I can’t properly comment on it:)

Anonymous said:

Relating to the ask about Marinette imagining the events of the series. For me it would be realistic as I sort of see myself in her position for some parts, especially how her friends are represent (mainly Alya) and I can see myself picturing the events of the story (surrounding them) to some extent.

I'm continuing on to explain and rant about how I relate to Marinette. So about Alya's pushiness with Marinette's crush and how she won't let her move on. I used to be sort of friends with this person and one day we hanging out at school and she started badgering me to tell her who my crush was, even though I told her I didn't have one (I didn't have one but even if I did it wasn't her business, especially because we hadn't really interacted for a couple years).

She pressured me enough that I felt the need to make up a person, then she called me out just after I did it because she knew I was lying but didn't realise how uncomfortable I was lucky we were by ourselves so no one could hear how embarrassing it was. It still is but I sort have gotten over it (that's why I'm hear complaining). For her being made to sit by herself because everyone else paired of, I can relate.

I have never been the person who is really close with the friend group (probably because I'm quiet and struggle to interact with others), but I still I hang out during class time, but there have been times when two of the friends sat together and the other friend chose not to sit with me but just in front of me (the tables can fit two people at them) until one friend I went to primary school asked "what about [me]", so them she sat next to me.

The person I went to primary school with also has chosen to sit with the person who was not to sit with me so she could sit closer to the other two friends diagonally across from me on the table next to mine. I can understand Marinette in The Chameleon for how she would of felt when her friends turned in because I am left wondering if my friends even like me, although primary school friend sometimes tried to get to wait with them when we were waiting for the teacher to show up.

As I mentioned earlier I anxious when trying to interact with people who are even considered my friends so I wait for them to invite me to hangout with them. And for the ending of The Chameleon when everything went back to normal, in primary school we had this task we were told research a person and write a biography on them so as the teacher told us we were writing a good copy and the work in our books was a rough draft.

I wrote the information down as I would the good copy to make sure I was happy with it. When we were writing the good copy, I started to worry I had done something wrong as I had seen my friends work and they bith had just written down the facts. So as my friends and I kept having arguments and fights so I told them that I hoped I remembered to spell all the names correctly because they were not names I was knew how to spell which was true so they didn't question it as I could tell they did

#category: salt #character: Marinette Dupain Cheng #relationship: love square #character: Adrien Agreste #category: fandom #MC: Audrey Bourgeois #episode: Chat Blanc #character: Emilie Agreste #character: Caline Bustier #relationship: Alya Cesaire & Marinette Dupain Cheng #episode: The Puppeteer 2 #MC's Adjustments #adjustment: romance #category: staff #character: Clara Nightingale #episode: Silencer #relationship: Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain Cheng #relationship: Felix Graham de Vanily & Marinette Dupain Cheng #other: askplosion

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

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Like a Heart Needs a Beat, chapter 1.

Hello, everyone. This is part one of two of an Abby x Lacie story. The first chapter is pretty much just going to be pure fluff, and next chapter the ink-related angst will kick in.

This story, and the next two two-part shipping stories I write, will be “canon” to my version of events.

---

It wouldn’t have been the first time that Bertrum had dragged Lacie to one of the parties he hosted, but that didn’t mean that she had to like it. She got it, she really did- Bertrum thought she deserved to experience the finer things in life (some of which, to be fair, Lacie did enjoy), and didn’t get that no amount of exposure would make her enjoy this. Still, as she was now, forced into a suit once owned by Bertrum’s son and listening to Bertrum trade compliments that were really insults (or whatever they were. They had a strange way of communicating with each other that Lacie didn’t think she wanted to understand) with his client while dozens of men were flirting with each others’ trophy wives in the background, she felt out of place and a little irritated at Bertrum for insisting she come. It was as Joey and Bertrum were getting especially petty that Lacie just had to look away, and across the room, Lacie saw a woman who looked twice as miserable as she was and only slightly more in-her-element.

Lacie approached her. It was a pretty girl, despite looking like she was completely done with this party. She was wearing a grey suit, clearly tailored for her, and had short, curly hair, dark eyes, clear, dark skin. Her body was pretty nice, too. Yeah, Lacie was going to do this.

“Hey,” Lacie said, “You look like you could use some air. Want me to show you a place where we can get away from the party for a while?”

The woman slowly turned her head to look at her. “Sure. Why not?” she replied without changing expression. Lacie would have to hope that would change and that the woman wasn’t just a natural sourpuss.

Lacie smiled. “Come with me.”

Bertrum was a nice man. He allowed Lacie to step out of parties when she needed to, and even gave her one heck of a place to go when she did: Bertrum’s bird room.

Bertrum loved birds. Bertrum raised birds. It was his favourite hobby. The bird room contained two cages of small, pet-store birds, a larger cage for his doves, and a number of nests for his other birds- three chickens, two ducks, a goose, a swan, and (out of place as they looked amongst the farm fowl) two peafowl. It was easy to keep so many pets when you could pay people to look after them. The bird room opened up to an outdoor enclosure, but this time of day they were all in their nests.

“Pretty cool, right?” Lacie said. “Wanna feed em’? I’m the host’s plus-one. Don’t worry, he won’t mind.”

The woman seemed pretty impressed. “Sure,” she replied.

Lacie showed her to the plastic barrel of dried corn in the corner. The birds crowded them, eager, which made them laugh.

After they’d spent a while feeding the birds, the woman had cheered up significantly, and so Lacie tried to make conversation.

“So. My name’s Lacie. And you know why I’m here. What’s your name, and why are you here? And why don't you want to be here? Because it's obvious you don't.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Abby Lambert. Nice to meet you, Lacie. I’m here because Joey Drew begged me to be his plus one so he wouldn’t have to come alone. And... instead of telling people that I was his friend or his coworker, or lying and telling people I was his girlfriend, he made up this lie that I’d won a contest to get to go with him. That I was his biggest fan. I’ll be honest- that pissed me off. He didn’t think it was right for his image, I guess."

“Oof, that sucks. You know, I’m just one of Bertrum’s engineers, and I don’t know an eighth of the high society stuff he does, but he would still never do that.”

“Thanks. And thanks for taking me out for some air.”

“No problem.”

It was a few more minutes of feeding birds before Lacie decided to throw her shot. “If Joey wants to be a jerk he can stay here on his own. Wanna get out of here?”

Abby looked Lacie up and down, and suddenly Lacie wished she were wearing something a little more revealing than this ill-fitting suit- especially since Abby’s was accentuating every curve of her body. But Abby clearly liked what she saw.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice.”

The two took a cab to Abby’s apartment, where they spent the night.

---

After the one-night stand, Abby had left Lacie her number. If one night was good, why not make it several? And then, Lacie had surprised her by asking her out. To an art museum.

“You like art, right? It’s not just a job? I mean, I wouldn’t want you taking me to a construction site.”

God, she was a dork. A muscular, handsome dork. Abby had to roll her eyes at herself for being so caught up on a woman, but she eventually broke down and asked Joey a few pointed questions during their lunch break a few days before the date. “So, Mr. Romantic- can you give me some tips about how to sweep a woman off her feet? I’m meeting someone tonight.”

Joey had smiled teasingly at her. “Oh, my. The ever-serious Abby Lambert is lovestruck!”

“You’re gross. It was good sex. That’s all.”

“Right. That’s why you came to me for advice. Well, I’d say just be natural. Be friendly, make jokes, find common interests, all that common-sense stuff. And then at the end of the night invite her over for some wine and radio, read her signs, and that’s when you start getting physical.” Joey suddenly went from smiling and talking with his hands to being much more serious. “Oh, and... I’m sorry about the other night. You know how it is... I respect you, the art department respects you, but I can’t trust random people to do so, and I can’t avoid interacting with people who won’t.”

He didn’t even have to say that it was because she was a black woman. It was the same reason why Joey had promoted someone else ahead of her as head of the art department- he hadn’t trusted that the others would accept her authority. But, after she’d handled the art department while her ex-superior was on vacation and there hadn’t been any problems, Joey had snatched the promotion right out of his hands and put it in Abby’s. Not fair to the ex-head of the art department, but Joey rarely was. Even if he wasn’t perfect, though, he was still one of the few in this day and age who would hand a high position to her under any circumstance, and one of the few she could discuss her relationships with.

“Maybe we should just not talk about that. See you soon, Joey.” Why think about that when Abby had more cheerful things to think about?

---

When Lacie showed up to the art museum, she was wearing a leather jacket, scuffed jeans, and heavy boots. She’d definitely stand out in a dainty place like this.

“So, do you know anything about art?” Abby asked as they went to the first section, which featured a number of surrealist paintings.

“Not a thing!” Lacie admitted, not at all ashamed. “Are you the type who likes to teach, or the type who just wants me to shut up and enjoy it on the level I’m at?”

“I... guess I wouldn’t mind explaining some things.”

“Okay. So, this one,” Lacie gestured at a painting of half-melted clocks hanging off of tree branches and the like. “It must represent something real deep, right?”

“Well, there’s more to art than symbolism, and surrealist stuff doesn’t have to have a deeper meaning. But... maybe it means that time just melts away when you’re having fun.”

It was midnight before Abby was back in her apartment. The museum had closed before they’d felt like any time had passed, and so they’d gone for a walk together in the city and stopped at whatever shops caught their eyes. It had been fun.

Abby’s apartment was the apartment of a chronically single woman in her thirties who had made it. It was clean and organized, but not too clean and organized. It had a large window overlooking the city in the living room, and near it, an eisel had been set up, with a half-done painting on it of a sunset over a city skyline. There was a rack of oft-used wine glasses in the kitchen, lesser-used exercise equipment in the laundry room. Abby’s bedroom contained her collection of houseplants, two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a closet full of suits her mom had tailored for her at a reduced cost.

Joey had always said that he never wanted to get married because he didn’t want to share space with anyone else. Abby had rolled her eyes and punched his arm for that. Joey was always coming up with reasons why he didn’t want a relationship, and none of them were true. Abby, on the other hand, had just assumed and accepted that it just wouldn’t happen. The chances were against it unless she made it a priority in her life, and she was focused on career and art. Could it really happen with this hooligan? It was hard to imagine letting her into this apartment- this apartment of a woman who had made it- on a permanent basis. But, maybe. Only time would tell.

---

Things went from there. They continued to date for over a year. Abby taught Lacie how to draw, and Lacie taught Abby how to fight. They started spending more nights than not over at each other’s places. Joey still didn’t know about it, because Abby knew how jealous Joey got when it came to relationships. Shawn on the other hand definitely knew, and teased the hell out of Lacie for it and later came to Lacie for help with his own relationship once he got into one.

Christmas that year, Shawn had scrapped together enough funds to visit Ireland. This was a problem, because Shawn and Lacie usually spent their Christmases together. As per usual, Lacie didn’t have the means to visit her home state of Alpaccia, so it looked like it would be a lonely Christmas for her.

“You want to come visit my family?” Abby offered as Lacie had been complaining about it.

“Yeah. I’d love that,” Lacie admitted. She hadn’t had a Christmas with a real family in... well, a long time, at any rate.

Abby’s family consisted of her mother and her two-years older brother, who had brought a wife and two kids. The father had died in the war while Abby was a child. They had a traditional Christmas together- old Christmas records, decorating a tree, staying up late to play cards and chat once Abby’s niece and nephew were in bed until they could barely keep their eyes open, and then watching the kids open their presents in the morning.

It kind of hurt Lacie to see such a beautiful family, but it was nice, too. It hurt because she remembered having to go off to her friends’ houses when her parents were too high to remember to feed her. She remembered having to make her own doctor’s appointments at the age of nine, and running off to live with her big sister at fourteen. But it was still nice to be there, just because it was.

As they were packing up in the guest bedroom, Lacie started crying, and Abby took notice. She’d never seen her cry before.

“What’s wrong?

“Nothing,” she said, and thankfully Abby had left her alone about it.

It was a week later, after Lacie had had some time to think, that she made her offer. “Abby, I want to start a family with you. I know we can’t get married in the traditional sense, but we can get a place together, find some man to give us a kid, and stay together for the rest of our lives. I could even buy you a ring if you want. Do you wanna do this?”

Abby was awestruck. “Lacie... oh my God, yes. Let’s do it.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #abby lambert #lacie benton #lacie x abby #my fanfiction #joey drew #thanks to lovelykitten2017 for the Bertrum headcanon!#(the one of him owning lots of birds)

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prismarts · 3 years

Text

2020 Creator’s Self-Love Extravaganza!!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Thank you @roninreverie for the tag!

Let’s see... 2020... what am I most proud of from this year???

---

1. A Bond That Lasts Centuries

My Douxilly au fanfic inspired by @alovesongshewrote ‘s Almost A Thousand Years, it’s pretty much my first continuous fanfic that I am still working on for the next part (sorry, if I kept any of you waiting for it xD).

I was super inspired by AATY but was incredibly nervous about turning the au ramblings I came up with while reading the fic that I shared with friends into a fanfic, mostly from the fact that I might be accused of copying. But Lovesong and everyone in the Discord server as well as just my friends have been super sweet and supportive and I couldn’t be happier!

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/636032522517626880/a-bond-that-lasts-centuries-prologue

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/636033273346359296/a-bond-that-lasts-centuries-chapter-1

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/636036602881359873/a-bond-that-lasts-centuries-chapter-2

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/636037062453231616/a-bond-that-lasts-centuries-chapter-3

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/636465861108056064/a-bond-that-lasts-centuries-chapter-4

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2. Douxilly Ship Art

Self explanatory, Douxilly has been my comfort ship from the start and has been my way of getting cute ship art and practicing drawing Douxie. I am extremely proud of the progress and improvement I made in said art and absolutely adore my wizard dorks, I’m also happy that so many of you seem to like them as well and enjoyed the warm reception!

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/638253722848378880/i-was-cutting-it-close-but-here-is-my-christmas

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/635634426419822592/just-two-wizard-dorks-being-in-love-and-happy

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/635211321534758912/his-girlfriend-cat-dragon-familiar-and-demigod

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634646165441445888/is-it-way-past-halloween-and-just-weird-timing

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634729723188133889/soooo-i-was-writing-a-one-shot-but-then-i-lost

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634913728891174912/soooo-justhave-my-first-ever-time-drawing-douxie

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3. Shadowmancy (Pre Wizards Douxilly Oneshot)

Ah, my second ever oneshot posted for not only Tumblr but for the ToA fandom in general.

I am super proud of this oneshot because it was my first time delving into trying to write more magic stuff, trying to describe magical and tense scenes, writing Merlin.

But it also gave me a chance to try delving more into writing a frustrated moppet Douxie, who is just determined and impatient, writing a more timid Illy who is....honestly naive when it comes to her affection and loyalty to Douxie. It also let me explore a line from Wizards that always peeked my interest when it came to Douxie’s past, “I never had the gift for Shadowmancy”,

Overall, I’m just really proud of this one.

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634812267056283648/shadowmancy-camelot-era

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4. Selena Lucia Rica

Granted, I only made one post about her but I am really proud about how she came out design wise and am working on developing her backstory right at this moment as well as making Zolena art!

I think what I loved most was how many of my friends from the Douxie server were so excited in helping me design our werewolf bab, it was honestly a group effort and it makes her all the more special! Expect more of this bab soon! Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/638556968441790464/i-almost-forgot-to-post-her-and-that-is-a-crime

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5. Birthday Surprise (Pre Wizards Douxilly Oneshot)

The first oneshot I ever posted here and for the ToA fandom!

In all honesty, I just enjoyed how fluffy it is xD.

This was my first time attempting to write moppet Douxie and also trying to write his and past Illy’s friendship as well as her one sided affection for him. It was also my first time writing Archie, if I am not mistaken and I really wanted to give him and Illy a sibling like relationship.

I’m just proud of how fluffy this came out!

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634741321060564992/birthday-surprise-camelot-era

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6. Douxie Discord Server Art

OOOoooOOHHH BOY!!!

Joining the Douxie server on Discord has definitely helped me expand in my art, and by that, I mean, I started drawing cool concepts, cute concepts and just cursed......

Just cursed art.

That being said, it was absolutely fun and has been quite the adventure, you guys are a riot and I love you all xD

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/635914679486709760/just-something-dumb-and-fun-after-the-stuff-we

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/636493996173197312/i-im-honestly-not-sure-how-to-feel-about-this

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/638004381489496064/did-this-purely-spawn-from-the-fact-that

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/638345362691719168/discord-shenanigans-that-resulted-in-imagining

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/638578308266721280/this-is-what-happens-when-i-get-nostalgic-and

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7. Happy Birthday Douxie! (Art and Oneshot)

Haha, I enjoyed making these,

Now, I won’t say they are my best work but I did immensely enjoy doing special things for my comfort wizard’s birthday! It was also just fun to work on birthday themed stuff so closely to my own birthday.

For the art, I would say it was great to get more practice drawing Nari and Archie, I really loved how they turned out and I can’t wait to draw them more. Oh! also the lighting, I’m still practicing but I was proud of how it turned out!

The oneshot, again, not my best but I loved getting to delve into Illy’s dynamic with Archie and Nari and giving them some special family bonding, trying to make Douxie a birthday cake. Plus, the chaos of it all was super fun!

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/635211321534758912/his-girlfriend-cat-dragon-familiar-and-demigod

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/635397253786402816/happy-birthday-douxie

---

8. Illyria Calypso

And last but certainly not least, Illy!

The very oc that began my journey on Tumblr and into joining this wonderful fandom!

I’d like to give a special thanks to my friend, @legendling for convincing me to create the lovable dork in the first place! Everyone, you can thank Leg! She is just a special oc to me, like many of my ocs, I enjoyed creating her and inserting her into the world of Tales of Arcadia and exploring her place in this world and in the lives of not only my comfort character, Douxie but also the other characters I adored so much from this series.

And the fact that so many of you loved her and instantly welcomed her existence makes me extremely happy, you guys are amazing and made me and Illy feel so welcomed in this space and I love you all!

Links: https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634626258919178240/soooooo-this-is-my-bab-xd-illyria-calypso-former

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634638299911356416/illyria-calypso-backstory-camelot

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634641323053465600/i-did-say-i-have-a-few-things-i-came-up-with-that

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634644004924964864/more-character-relationship-stuff-cause-yes-so

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634649103598534656/illy-in-wizards-episode-1-spellbound

https://prismarts.tumblr.com/post/634654231157227520/illy-in-wizards-episode-2-history-in-the-making

---

Seriously, all of you guys, my friends and followers are what made this year amazing! I love you guys! Tags: @yagirlcheesely , @prezzole , @tales-of-hisirdoux , @alovesongshewrote , @legendling , @blixeon , @soni-dragon , @generalfandomsofthefreak , @bernie-the-nugget , @furblrwurblr , @krelitobxby , @wizardalienhunter , @moppetwithamanbun , @valentimmy , @roninreverie , @pinkflash4627 , @angeliatheturkishdelight

#toa wizards #toa douxie #douxie #hisirdoux #douxie casperan #hisirdoux casperan #douxilly #douxie x oc #toa archie #toa merlin #toa nari #toa zoe #zolena #proudest work in 2020 #2020 creator's self love

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tigerseye46 · 3 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts, might I put one in for #16 with Chimerashipping where it's Mei and Red asking MK for art lessons? I think it'd be cute! It can just be platonic Traffic Light Trio if you're more comfortable with that.

Yep! I’m still taking prompts! Hope I can do this ship justice!

16. Teach me how to [insert skill here]?

————————

Red and Mei sat there on MK’s bed, waiting for Pigsy to let him off of work. They were looking at various things in MK’s room, well it was mostly Mei, the boy never seemed to mind so they could do what they wanted while waiting. Mei picked up MK’s sketchbook.

“Hey, don’t touch that! Could be personal!” Red yelled, Mei kissed his cheek in response with the demon’s hair flaming up slightly at the contact.

“It will be fine. MK sometimes shows me his sketches. I just want to take a peek.” She opened MK’s sketchbook to a random page, she gasped and Red leaned over to see what she was looking at, he was astonished. The sketch they had seen was MK, Mei and Red. The demon was in the middle, his arms wrapped around both of them, all of them had blushes on their face.

“Wow…” Red stared at the drawing with adoration. “This is beautiful.”

Mei nodded. “Hey! We should ask him to teach us when he gets back!”

“Wh-what? You sure?”

“Yea! He’s so great at it! I’ve always wanted to learn!”

“Hmmm, me too. He has a lot of talent.”

“Yes he does! Let’s ask him soon!” Red nodded as he flipped to another page, every sketch was so unique and gorgeous.

It wasn’t until a few minutes went by that Xiaotian came upstairs, he didn’t have a chance to take off his shoes before the two appeared right in his face. He yelped and was about to ask them what they were doing when Mei suddenly asked, “Teach us how to draw?”

“H-huh?” Were all that escaped from Xiaotian’s lips.

Red coughed and wrapped an arm around Xiaotian’s waist. “What she’s trying to say is, can you teach us to draw like you do? We were looking at your sketchbook and we wanted to draw.”

“O- okay. My sketches aren’t that good...” Mei and Red glared at him. “What?”

Mei punched him in the shoulder lightly. “You’re a great artist, MK!”

“She’s right! Now Noodle Boy, are you going to teach us?”

“O-okay!” He smiled brightly, he gestured for them to sit down on the bed, he grabbed the sketchbook that was laying there and flipped to a new page. He passed them blank pieces of paper along with three pencils and gave one to each of them. “So ummm… what you do first is draw a circle,” he explained and drew a perfect circle. Red and Mei tried to repeat his actions but their circles were sloppy, they winced. “Don’t worry! A perfect circle is hard to do!”

“You seem like you have it handled, Noodle Boy.”

“Well I have been doing this for a long time!”

Mei nodded and kissed MK’s cheek. “He’s been drawing ever since we were kids! He’s always had a talent for it.”

“Mei…” he muttered and blushed.

“What? I’m telling the truth.” She wrapped an arm around his neck and leaned into him, MK turned more red.

“S-so what you do is you outline the pose of what you want to draw,” he said and drew a pose of a figure holding up something. The two’s eyes sparkled, it wasn’t even finished and it was already so amazing. “Now you work on actually drawing the thing you want to draw.” He stuck his tongue as he concentrated on drawing, he moved his hand to brush some eraser shavings off. When it was finished, it was a drawing of the Monkey King, holding his staff up high on a small rock. “Done!”

Red kissed the Noodle Boy on the lips. “You are amazing!”

Mei hugged MK. “You are!”

MK stuttered, “Tha-thanks… you two should try!”

The two nodded and began sketching for a few minutes. They showed their sketches to MK, it was ummm… “How did we do, MK?” Mei questioned.

The monkey boy observed the sketches, the head Red had drawn was disproportional, the feet were weird. For Mei, the hands were off and the hair didn’t look great at all. He winced. “Uhhhh… it’s great?”

The demon looked at him. “Really?”

“You can tell us it sucks! We won’t mind!”

“Well… uhhhh, Red, the head and feet are,” he coughed, “kinda weird and Mei, the hands and hair need some work. But that’s okay! You’re still learning! I’ll show you!” He took the pieces of paper from them and started showing them how to refine them, the two nodded as he politely pointed out the flaws. The two fixed their sketches, it wasn’t perfect but it was better than what they had originally. “Wow! Those look great!” He complimented in all sincerity.

“Thanks, Noodle Boy. It’s not as good as yours!”

MK held his hand and shook his head. “It’s still good! Every artist has their own unique style! It just takes time to develop, it’s hard work but it’s fun!”

Red and Mei cooed and Red kissed his cheek. “You’re right! I think we’ll get it down in no time if we just keep practicing!”

Red nodded and wrapped an arm around both of them. “Well we should relax a bit. What do you two want to do now?”

MK and Mei pondered for a bit before they shouted, “CUDDLING!” MK put their sketches on his bedside table and they flopped onto the bed. They peppered kisses across Red’s face.

“We can sketch more later!” The monkey boy stated. “I’ll teach you all kinds of things!”

“I don’t doubt that, Noodle Boy.” He contently sighed. “I love you both.”

Mei replied, “We love you too!”

They continued giving each other affection until later when Xiaotian gave them more art lessons, none of the art the two made believed was perfect but in their partner’s eyes, it was and he would continue to teach them art with a happy smile in his face as he basked at the love and happiness both had when he taught them.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent.

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth.

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship.

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style.

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling.

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare.

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling.

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed.

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined.

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly.

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

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

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw.

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ‘dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking.

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper, covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town.

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up.

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-” He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.”

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone.

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

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch.

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

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

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep.

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise.

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold.

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.”

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her.

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno.

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air.

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

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

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best.

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing.

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards.

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates.

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company.

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.”

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame.

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider.

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs.

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee.

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck”

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right.

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body.

“More, please, god that all feels so good.”

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes.

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans.

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back.

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass.

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back.

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

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

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door.

#indruck #monster march #indrid cold/duck newton #reader request #ghost au

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pengiesama · 3 years

Text

A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

Just as Hua Cheng once gave him a ring to pledge him his life, Xie Lian gives Hua Cheng a ring to pledge him his hole.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

Xie Lian was going into this birthday prepared. He had a plan in his head, a wish in his heart, and many thoughts cursing his dick.

This plan, this wish, this curse; it all started one fateful morning about a month ago. You see, the married life came with innumerable pleasures, and one of these was the comfort of a regular morning routine. Summarized, and truncated for length, it went a little like this:

Step 1: Wake up.

Step 2, Scenario A: San Lang pretending to be asleep, and refusing to break character until Xie Lian provided anywhere between seven to ten morning kisses.

Step 2, Scenario B: San Lang already awake, and distributing morning kisses to Xie Lian’s lips, neck, cock, and other such body parts that would benefit from the application of his tongue.

Step 3: The irrepressible cosmic consequence of either scenario outlined above.

Step 4, Scenario A: San Lang big spoon.

Step 4, Scenario B: Xie Lian big spoon.

Step 5: Helping each other wash, dress, and get ready for the day.

With Step 1 through Step 4, Scenario B completed, Xie Lian was helping his husband get ready before he had to scurry off to do a few errands. Check on the vegetable garden at the shrine, draw up a few new charms, pop over to the village’s market to see if there were any deals on, put an end to the demon who’d taken up residence in the hills two towns over and who was demanding maiden sacrifices…Xie Lian of course would answer the cries of those in need, but he did wonder, at times, why people were calling upon the God of Scrap-Collecting to slay evil (or at least rough up evil, followed by a stern talking-to). Shouldn’t they be calling upon him for blessings in happening upon excellent and thrifty finds? Ah, well. Always in service of the people.

The lacquered black comb sank thickly into Hua Cheng’s hair, and slid through like a ship through water. Silver chimed with the motions of Xie Lian’s arm. Lately, he’d taken to warming up Hua Cheng’s silver accessories before helping his husband put them on…underneath his sleeping robe, against his bare skin, he was currently sporting one of Hua Cheng’s heavy necklaces and silver belts. Xie Lian never liked the initial cold shock of jewelry against his skin when he was young; brief as the feeling was before his body heat warmed the metal, it was a petty annoyance he always dreaded each morning while still cranky and disoriented from sleep. His poor San Lang had no such respite, with his body’s ghostly chill. Thus, Xie Lian wanted to save his husband such an unpleasantness before a long day of managing his city.

There was, of course, the minor matter that Hua Cheng tended to wear quite a lot of accessories. (And he seemed to only be expanding this tendency after Xie Lian took up the warming habit.) After the necklace and belt were taken care of, he still needed to warm up the bracelets and rings (unthinkable to wear those while tending to San Lang’s beautiful hair), then the earrings and hair accessories, and then the vambraces; these were tricky, and required one-on-one attention. The silver butterflies nesting within the vambraces got excited very easily when Xie Lian touched their home, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d have an armful of butterflies and no vambrace to warm up.

Xie Lian could very easily spend the whole day at this, though his schedule didn’t allow it. Distracted by the movement of the comb through Hua Cheng’s hair, distracted by the low sounds of pleasure Hua Cheng made when Xie Lian absently ran his fingers through the strands, Xie Lian reached out to fumble for one of the many nearby jewelry boxes. Rings, San Lang did need rings to wear with his choice of ensemble today…

Xie Lian’s questing hand came back with a ring; that it was a ring was no question. But…Xie Lian’s brow furrowed as he examined it, turning it this way and that, the silver glinting in the bedroom light. Beautiful, with delicate engravings of blooming flowers across its surface, the quality silver thick and heavy in his palm. But this ring was much too large for his San Lang’s elegant, slender fingers, was it not? Though Xie Lian’s hands were smaller, they weren’t that much smaller, and he could fit both his thumbs inside it easily…

“Gege,” Hua Cheng purred, allowing his hair to fall over his shoulder in an alluring and altogether deliberate manner. “Did you find something you’d particularly like to see me in today?”

Hua Cheng’s gaze fell on the ring that Xie Lian was examining, and his confident, sly expression dropped all at once. His hand twitched, then fisted in his robes; as if he wanted to snatch away the ring but didn’t dare do so. Xie Lian blinked, confused.

“Is this a ring that San Lang wears while in a different skin?” Xie Lian asked. “It’s lovely, but seems much too big for San Lang’s…fing…er…”

Xie Lian trailed off, and the truth of the matter took root in his mind as his cheeks began to burn with a familiar heat. And oh, did those roots find eager and fertile soil.

Now, Xie Lian was inexperienced in bedroom matters, this much was true. But he was not stupid, and he also knew what his husband’s dick looked like at this point. This ring was indeed too large for Hua Cheng’s slender and elegant fingers. But it was just the right size to fit around the base of Hua Cheng’s thick, heavy cock.

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng croaked. “This one apologizes for leaving such an item in—”

“This is a cock ring,” Xie Lian murmured, as if in a trance state, approaching a level of enlightenment not yet seen.

Hua Cheng’s physical form briefly flickered; hearing His Highness say such words so bluntly, with such an irresistibly flushed face, was very much like being struck by a divine force, staggering in its power. He took a deep breath to regain control of himself, and nodded.

“Yes,” Hua Cheng admitted. “This one is much ashamed to not be able to please His Highness as he deserves, on some nights. I crafted such a crude instrument in hopes that it would help with control, but it still is not up to the task, nor is it worthy of the honor of being used in His Highness’ bed…”

Xie Lian was brought back to reality long enough to refute such a self-abasing statement.

“San Lang always pleases me!” Xie Lian stated firmly. It wasn’t always about lasting for hours! It was about both of them enjoying the experience! First off, his San Lang lasted a perfect amount of time; secondly, even when he did come too fast, it just meant that Xie Lian had that much more come in him, and one of Xie Lian’s primary goals in his immortal life now was to be filled with as much of Hua Cheng’s come as physically possible. And if Xie Lian had to wait hours each time before Hua Cheng would finally come inside…

…but perhaps it was about the challenge. This was something a (formerly) martial god could understand. This was something that could overcome Xie Lian’s shyness, could reach deep within him and seize him by the heart and make him rise to the occasion. The buildup of his husband’s frustration and need, the challenge of overcoming the restriction of the ring, of riding Hua Cheng and filling him with so much pleasure that he would burst forth and break through – just as Hua Cheng had once done to free him from the bonds of his cursed shackles. (But like, with less dying afterwards. And with waaaaaay more come filling up Xie Lian’s insides.) Yes. Yes, this was a challenge Xie Lian was ready to help his San Lang face. They would do it together.

“I’m going to borrow this,” Xie Lian said. “Is that okay?”

“…as it pleases His Highness,” Hua Cheng replied, with no little confusion.

He’d find out soon enough.

Xie Lian worked tirelessly, during every free moment, to perfect this most important of spiritual relics: the Incorruptible Chastity Cock Ring. Although last year’s birthday present proved that his sewing skills left something to be desired (and his dear, sweet husband still insisted on wearing that ridiculous belt any chance he got), his metalworking skills, again, proved much more polished. Polished enough to make this ring even more of a sight to behold.

He’d amassed enough followers, and enough donations, to permit him to spend on sourcing quality metal for the project – he of course would not dip into Hua Cheng’s own art supplies, nor his purse. Though both were open to him at all times, that was hardly the spirit meant for a birthday gift! And thus, with silver that was not dug up out of his own grave this time, he’d set to work.

The expertly engraved ring now sported four fine silver chains, from which many chiming seed-shaped silver beads dangled. These silver chains were meant to drape alluringly across Hua Cheng’s muscular thighs and lean hips, and chime with every movement. The chains could be attached to any of Hua Cheng’s silver belts, which Xie Lian considered a very clever foresight on his own behalf. It would be very convenient, this way. (Though it would, of course, mean that a bit of warming up would be needed before he could dress San Lang for the occasion.)

The day of Hua Cheng’s birthday came, and the rush of adrenaline that was warding off Xie Lian’s shyness was beginning to wear off. What was he doing, presenting his husband with such a gift!? My darling, my one and only, my San Lang, here’s a cock ring that you made yourself because you come too fast in bed. Happy birthday! But Xie Lian tried to remember the goal here, the challenge, the pursuit of excellence. Those who ascended were ones who were capable of seeing beyond the limits of what was thought impossible. And Xie Lian so loved dressing Hua Cheng up before a hard day of work.

The moment the midnight hour struck, Ghost City was bright with cheers and fireworks. When Hua Cheng next stepped out of his residence, he would be greeted with a thousand congratulations and well-wishes: Lord Chengzhu, happy birthday!

Great Lord Mayor, happy eight-hundred-twenty-third! If’n I could count that high, I’d lop off the hands of eight hunn’erd twenny third sinners and deck these streets with ‘em!

What a waste of hands! Ya know you can fry those up, doncha!? Or sell them to tourists!

And an occasion such as this calls fer decadence! Like scattering hands all over the streets!! But, for now, Xie Lian had Hua Cheng all to himself.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered into his ear, before kissing it. “Happy birthday. Would you like to open your present?”

Such an offer was a surefire way to get Hua Cheng to stop pretending to be asleep. In an instant, Xie Lian was tackled onto his back on the bed, and pinned in place by the press of Hua Cheng’s lean body and the insistent lips against his own.

“Gege is too kind,” Hua Cheng sighed between kisses. “Too generous. For days I’ve been thinking of nothing but the birthday dinner you promised me, and now gege is telling me that he’s got more gifts up his sleeves?”

Seizing upon the opportunity provided by the wording, Hua Cheng’s greedy hands snuck up the sleeves of Xie Lian’s sleeping robes, squeezing and groping at his arms as he went. The right idea, but the wrong direction…

“It’s…um…” Xie Lian trailed off, his cheeks flaring red. He had a planned script for this. Something about a ring for a ring, sweets for the sweet. The lines were lost to him now. But the intent certainly was not.

Slowly, shyly, Xie Lian slid a hand down the front of his own robes. Hua Cheng’s eye followed the movement raptly, and his touch grew heavier on Xie Lian’s bicep. Taking a moment to steel his courage, Xie Lian ran his fingers along the tie of his robe once, twice, before tugging at it to loosen it and let his robes slip open.

“I wanted to make sure it was warm enough for San Lang to wear comfortably,” Xie Lian explained softly.

Silver glinted through the part of his robe. One of Hua Cheng’s silver belts hung around Xie Lian’s hips, flush against his bare skin. Chiming silver chains dangled from it, leading the eye downward to where they joined at that thick, heavy engraved silver ring. It really was much too big for one’s finger, and still a bit too big for Xie Lian’s own cock. He feared it looked a bit silly – even half-hard as he was, it was clear that there was no way he’d fill it out. Of course, Hua Cheng would have no trouble.

Hua Cheng stared openly, blatantly; hungrily and open-mouthed. His grip on Xie Lian’s bicep was bruising.

“…Your Highness,” he eventually managed to say. His voice was low and raw enough to send a shiver through Xie Lian’s limbs, to make those silver beads chime with the motion of his bare legs sliding against the silk sheets. “Your graciousness knows no bounds. This humble follower doesn’t deserve such a magnificent gift.”

Xie Lian took Hua Cheng’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks between his palms. He leaned in to press a kiss between Hua Cheng’s brows.

“My husband,” he murmured against Hua Cheng’s skin, his breath warm. “Deserves many such magnificent things.”

The kiss that followed was deep and slow, and full of a wet heat that took Xie Lian from half-hard to fully rigid. The ring still slid off with ease, though Hua Cheng’s fingers were so careful and gentle and slow in their ministrations to remove it that Xie Lian could have cried (or laughed, really) in frustration. Hua Cheng was equally slow and deliberate while undoing the belt tied around Xie Lian’s waist, taking his time, dipping his fingers underneath the belt while he worked to feel the heat radiating off Xie Lian’s abdominals.

“San Lang,” groaned Xie Lian.

Hua Cheng chuckled weakly, and kissed Xie Lian’s throat in recompense. “Gege’s patience is appreciated. I have to wait for my blood to cool before I can wield his gift.”

Xie Lian blinked, curious. “Oh? Is that how it works? Much ashamed, I’ve not much experience. But that does make sense, considering the intent…”

It was Hua Cheng’s turn to groan, and he punctuated it with a dramatic collapse into the pillows next to Xie Lian’s head.

“Gege is not helping with the blood cooling,” Hua Cheng grumbled, with affection clear in the accusation.

“My sincerest apologies,” Xie Lian replied, not sorry at all.

It took some long, painfully and deliciously slow minutes – drawn out by their refusal to stop kissing for the duration – before Hua Cheng’s cock softened enough to slide the ring on. Xie Lian, too, went slowly, carefully, guided by Hua Cheng’s slightly-trembling fingers and the glide of oil to ease any discomfort. When the work was done, Xie Lian squirmed out from under Hua Cheng to survey his handiwork.

His San Lang looked so lovely. The sheen of the oil on his cock, the glinting silver decorating the thick base and draping artfully across his strong thighs. The delicate chimes looked ticklish against his balls; Xie Lian reached out a hand to brush his knuckles against the velvety soft skin there and was rewarded by a delicious groan and squirm.

Oh, before he forgot…there was indeed one more surprise that Xie Lian had for the birthday boy. When he’d set to work on this precious spiritual tool, he’d added some features...

Xie Lian traced both hands along the silver chains, and they shivered with spiritual energy. Hua Cheng wore a priceless expression of shock on his face for a brief moment as he felt the pulse of energy, but had no further opportunity to react before the cock ring itself pulsed once, twice, thrice, more. It continued to pulse around Hua Cheng’s cock in time with the racing beat of Xie Lian’s heart. With each pulse, Hua Cheng’s hips jerked upward involuntarily; with each jerk, those silver chimes rang melodiously. Hua Cheng’s mouth hung open wordlessly, his eye glazed with pleasure that stole his sight and sense.

Very convenient, indeed. Xie Lian could probably just leave him like this and go about his daily errands, secure in the thought that his husband would be waiting for him in bed at home, desperate for relief after hours of tension that threatened to snap him in two. But that wouldn’t be particularly kind to do to him today. The birthday boy would have his release in due time, with only as much teasing as Xie Lian could bear.

“Did I warm it up well enough for San Lang’s comfort?” Xie Lian asked, stretching himself out along Hua Cheng’s side as he jerked and twitched. He stroked his palm along Hua Cheng’s lovely pectorals, down his stomach. He pressed the back of his hand to the silver belt to test its temperature. Xie Lian hmmed thoughtfully and moved to toy with one of the silver chains. “I suppose it’s still a bit chilly. Will you ever forgive me?”

“H…Hhh-highne…ssss…” Hua Cheng managed to slur out, then let out an animalistic moan as the pulses around his cock grew in intensity. Xie Lian made a comforting noise, and kissed Hua Cheng’s temple soothingly. His poor San Lang. It couldn’t be helped; the cock ring’s pulses were tied to Xie Lian’s heartbeat, and there was no controlling that when he was with Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian decided, there and then, that it was time to test the integrity (and the Incorruptible Chastity) of this spiritual artifact. He’d prepared himself before waking Hua Cheng; he thanked himself profusely for this foresight, as he doubted he had the patience to do it now and could hardly ask Hua Cheng to do all the work today. He already had enough to deal with right now.

Hua Cheng’s hands, previously fisted in the silk bedsheets in a vain attempt at controlling himself, flew to seize Xie Lian’s waist as Xie Lian moved to straddle him. Any protests died in his throat as the tip of his cock pressed into Xie Lian’s entrance, already warm and willing and ready. Xie Lian sighed in relief at the stretch and the fullness, and bounced and wriggled his hips until Hua Cheng’s cock was in him fully. He could feel the slight coolness of the silver ring against the rim of his hole, could feel the pulsations of the ring inside and out. Xie Lian gave a full-body shiver, and almost absentmindedly lifted the crystal ring around his neck up to his lips to kiss. The gesture grounded him, it soothed him, it—

“Your Highness…”

The warning growl of that title came too little, too late. Driven mad by the beat of Xie Lian’s heart and the burning heat of his body, Hua Cheng’s grip on Xie Lian’s waist became completely ungentle. His fingers gripped with bruising force, and he bounced Xie Lian on his cock with harsh, fast motions; endlessly chasing a release that would not come, to the tune of chiming silver chains. He pounded as deep into him as he could reach, and seemed as if he could hardly stand having even an inch of him not inside. It was all Xie Lian could do to hold onto Hua Cheng’s shoulders, to hold himself steady even as his thigh muscles began to burn with the strain, to let Hua Cheng fuck into him and use his body as a tool for his pleasure.

The first time Xie Lian came, it only left him hungry for more. The fifth time left him lying limp and slack, sprawled on his back as Hua Cheng’s cock continued to relentlessly fuck him, in and out, with no signs of stopping or slowing. Xie Lian’s insides ached to be soothed by the rush of Hua Cheng’s come. After the eighth time, with his face now pressed into a pillow and Hua Cheng’s cock still tirelessly pumping his prone body, chimes still jingling as brightly and eagerly as they had at the start, Xie Lian himself began to beg for that as well.

“S-s-sssan Lang…” Xie Lian could hardly get the words out, his tongue felt thick and heavy and useless in his mouth. “S-san Lang, need…need it…”

Hua Cheng moaned against Xie Lian’s neck, and briefly paused in his efforts to cover every inch of it with bite marks and hickies. His mouth moved to Xie Lian’s ear; biting it once before he spoke into it, sounding rich and low and just as wrecked as Xie Lian.

“Anything His Highness needs, anything, anything, I’ll give it – mnnnhh, mmm – oh, Your Highness, Your Highness is so good to me, so good to this San Lang…mmh, feels so perfect inside, does it feel as good for gege? Is he ready to come again for me?”

Xie Lian let out a desperate moan as Hua Cheng expertly adjusted his angle to aim his thrusts against that spot inside of him. He wouldn’t last much longer, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay conscious for round ten. And Hua Cheng still hadn’t come even once inside of him – Xie Lian could endure many hardships, but this was too much, too much!

“San Lang! I want it, I want that!” Xie Lian wailed with the desperation of a dying man. “Ah-ahhhh, I need it, I need you to give it all to me, please, please, won’t you please – ohh! Please, please have mercy, San Lang-gege, please have mercy and fill me up…”

Xie Lian’s heart was racing like a parade drum. He could only imagine the mayhem being wrought upon his husband’s dick by the cock ring’s enchantment. But he trusted his husband – he trusted him to break through, break through with him and see the limits of the highest heavens –

Hua Cheng let out a shout and a shockwave of spiritual energy strong enough to blow back the curtains on the bed, and released into Xie Lian enough come that Xie Lian felt his stomach grow taut with it. He felt his eyes roll back into his head, and let himself pass out midway through his ninth orgasm.

His conscious mind swam back after some time, and he found himself bundled against Hua Cheng’s strong chest. Morning was just breaking outside the window, but today was a day for sleeping in. Xie Lian breathed in his husband’s scent and let himself be lulled back to sleep. He still had to make that birthday dinner today, and needed to regain his strength.

“Oh? Did something happen out here?”

While things were stewing, Xie Lian needed to make a quick run to the market to pick up some supplies he’d forgotten. Outside of Paradise Manor, he found Yin Yu with a broom, sweeping a path through the severed hands that had been scattered on the road outside. If Xie Lian were to make a rough estimate, there were approximately eleven hundred sixty-seven of them. There was also a crudely written banner hung in the blossoming trees on the roadside, that read: HAPPAY BARTH DAY LARD CHENGZHU.

“They do try, don’t they?” Xie Lian said to Yin Yu, fondly. “Once I’m back from the market, I’ll help you clean up out here.”

“They do try,” Yin Yu agreed. “And no, no, Your Highness has business to attend to.”

Xie Lian smiled and gave a grateful bow. “Your Highness Yin Yu is welcome to join us for dinner. I’ll save some stew for him! Please don’t hesitate to drop by later.”

Yin Yu watched as Xie Lian expertly stepped around the hands littering the streets, then disappeared into the bustle of the Ghost City market. He gave a deep, resigned sigh and returned to sweeping.

#天官赐福 #tgcf #heavenly official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #a tenderly crafted fanfiction

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