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otherworldly-tresses · 5 months

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Fae x Reader

The Will Of Your Master

Summary: You are sent to seduce a Fae of the Summer Court at the will of your master.

Tags: monsterfucking, some mild elements of dubcon, royalty

Notes:

-Words used include: whore, slut

-Reader has breasts and a vagina, PIV sex involved

-Faeries in this setting are more insectoid and are usually very tall (about 6 and a half feet for the nobility). They have varieties of insectoid body parts, varying per individual (some have claspers, others have extra limbs, spare eyes, etc.)

-Sorry if this is not very well-edited, it's been a while since I've written/edited anything and self-editing my own work is a bit of a sore spot for reasons

-This might be a multi-parter (MIGHT)

-I'll probably edit this when I'm more awake

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The sweet scent of fae food and ethereal perfumes float through the air. The sounds of soft music and crystal drinking glasses echo across all the attendants of the ball. Laughter, singing, and casual conversation punctuates the air as Fae of all shapes, courts, and sizes dance to the live music, played from crystal instruments with no visible musicians. Only very few humans are in this party, all of whom are pets and servants of the Fae, taken for whatever reason.

You were one of them, taken from the mortal world a year ago. Any other person would have been horrified, begging for a way home. But why wouldn’t you want to live here? Your old life was miserable, marred by things outside of your control. At least here, your master afforded you some level of freedom, though the rules of the fae often eluded you.

Your Master, a tall Lord of the Winter Court was busy chatting up three specters, fae creatures that skulked about in cloaks and ominous, icy winds. By the time the night was over, they would have three more powerful allies for their inscrutable needs. They didn’t have time for you right now. But that was all right. You had a job to do for tonight, given to you a night before. You knew exactly who to approach, and what to do to them.

You weave through the crowd, casually plucking up a glass of clear wine from a passing server. Your target, Lord Lumentia of the Summer Court is fairly visible through the colors, being tall even for the Fae. He is dressed in a dizzying display of red, orange, and brown, his exquisitely pattened clothing mirroring his large, mothlike wings. He was speaking to several envoys of the Summer Court, all dressed in bright yellow, listening with rapt attention. He had always been described as a person who knew how to keep a kind, faint smile, though that smile was very easily ripped off to betray baser instincts and truer emotions.

It wouldn’t do for you to interrupt a Fae Lord’s conversation. You had to get his attention some other way. You look left and right. A commotion would cause too much of a disturbance, and unfortunately, none of the Fae around you owed you favors.

A soft voice, like spider’s silk, makes its way to your ears from behind you. “Hello, darling human. May I have this dance?”

You turn around, slightly surprised that anyone was able to sneak up on you. A stark white Winter Court Fae with eight red eyes towers over you, even taller than Master Orellia, their thin, spindly fingers reaching out to caress your face. You manage to keep your composure, curtsying before them as their thin fingers barely graze your skin. None of the other Fae around you notice, too busy with their own affairs.

You gauge your options. Even if you refused, the Fae have their ways of roping you into their will, if you weren’t careful. On the other hand, you could use this dance to your advantage somehow, if this individual was in a good mood.

You put on a smile and take the fae’s hand. Their smile widens, and you are taken into a dance. You waltz with this creature, following their overlong steps as well as you can. They ease into the rhythm of the music, their motions eerily spiderlike and silent as they follow you with pure-black eyes.

They lift your arm and you pirouette. For a moment, you spot Lord Lumentia, watching you through six eyes, the three faceless Summer Court fae also following you with their faces. Several other fae were also watching you with curiosity, some people whispering behind their hands.

You return to your dance partner. They take your hands and pull you close, bending over so that the two of you face to face. Their red eyes eyes gaze into yours, a cold, biting pressure emanating from them.

You feel the noise from around you fade away. You only have a split second of realization that you let your guard down and got charmed, before your own thoughts are subsumed by a feeling of icy dread, creeping up your senses. You cannot even break your gaze to check if the ice is real. Your entire body is rooted to the spot. You feel the silk of spiders start to wrap you in their web.

A clear voice cuts through the fog, a sunbeam through a cloud. “That’s enough for now.”

You suddenly feel your thoughts return to you and inhale sharply, realizing that you hadn’t taken a breath. You feel a warm presence next to you, like the sun. Someone puts ahand on your back, and you realize that it is Lord Lumentia, standing at your side and looking at your dance partner. He has a faint smile on his face.

“It would not do well for you to charm someone else’s subjects, Ievis.”

“Chancellor Ievis,” the pale figure hissed.

“Apologies, Chancellor.” Lord Lumentia’s smile widened, but you sense steel behind it. “I should not have forgotten your station. But imagine the harm it would do to yours if you were caught overstepping your boundaries.”

The Summer Fae waved a hand. Most of the other fae were busy with the party, but quite a few were staring at Chancellor Indalor, some with suspicion, others with disappointment.

“Now, I do not want to get in the way of your enjoyment.” Lord Lumentia continued, nodding in a farce of politeness. “There is still much time left in the night, and I have to ensure that our little friend here--” You feel his hand at your back push into you, “is unharmed.”

Chancellor Ievis watches for a moment as Lord Lumentia leads you, hand on your back, through the crowd. Normally, Lord Lumentia would be important enough for people to be jumping out of his path, but he seems to be employing some kind of spell to minimize being noticed. He gives you a quick smile as you walk, but you can sense a calculating aura from behind his golden eyes.

He leads you through the crowd to the doors leading to the balcony. They were only slightly ajar, but large enough that both Lord Lumentia and you could walk to the outside without brushing the doors. The moment you step out, the doors shut silently. Lord Lumentia’s pace quickens, and you struggle to keep up lest his hand topples you over. He leads you to the right side of the door, to the stone brick walls, well out of earshot.

“Thank you, Lord Lumentia,” you say.

The hand behind you withdraws. You look up at Lord Lumentia, his smile already gone. He regards you suspiciously, gazing down at you from his height.

“Well, well. Orellia’s pet has come to play.” His once warm tone is gone, to be replaced with something steely, but still smooth and regal. “I know they sent you for something. Those of the Winter Court never seem to be able to hold a proper conversation with us without all the scheming.”

You remain composed, and curtsy, just as you had practiced hundreds of times. “Congratulations, sire. You are correct.”

Lord Lumentia’s six eyes narrow. He steps closer and bends down, regarding you closely. After a moment, he huffs. “If he had wanted me dead, he should have sent someone fitter. A killer. You’re no killer. You don’t have the movements of one.”

“Not at all,” you respond. “I am not here to kill you. I am here to deliver Lord Orellia’s most genial regards, and an invitation.”

Lord Lumentia’s eyes narrow further. He tilts his head slowly, an owl getting the measure of a mouse. “A Summer Lord? Invited to the home of a Winter Fae? In what world would that not be an assassination attempt?”

“Lord Orellia had 9 months to kill you. And he didn’t. I assure you, they have no reason to cause you harm.” You look back into his eyes. “All he wants, my lord, is a discussion.”

Lord Lumentia chuckled.

“And he sent you to seduce me into it.”

You don’t respond. Lord Lumentia smiles a wry smile.

“It sounds like Orellia has their ear to the rumor mill. And you definitely are dressed for the occasion.” His six eyes rake over you, your blue-white dress, the thin cords only barely keeping the fabric from flying into the wind. “And what makes you think you can convince me into running headfirst towards danger?”

He lays a hand against your face, caressing it experimentally. You grasp it gently, holding his hand to your cool cheek.

“I assure you, my lord, you will be cared for as a proper guest in his realm.” As you speak, you move his hand towards your lips, so that the corners barely brush against his fingers. You sense the slightest hint of tension in his hand.

“A proper guest? How unlikely. The rest of the Winter court would surely disapprove.” He steps closer to you. You hear his wings rustling behind him.

“Which is why this will never go out to the rest of the Winter court. You could be in and out, and they would never know.” You briefly brush your lips over his fingers, and lay his hand against your cheek again. Lord Lumentia exhales as you do so. He leans forward again, your faces only inches away from each other.

You maintain eye contact and gently press your lips to each of his fingers. He watches you, a hunger flickering to life behind his gaze. You kiss his middle finger, letting your tongue linger on his warm skin for a moment. You hear a small groan emanate from his throat.

You slowly pepper his hand in more kisses, slow and sweet. You feel his breath quicken as you do so. You let your hand brush against his back, and his wings rustle.

“Have you thought about it, my lord?” you ask quietly.

Suddenly, Lord Lumentia lunges forward and pins you to the wall, lifting you up so that your toes brush the ground. He kisses you deeply, his composure shattering like glass. You kiss him back, slowly, tasting sap and wine and dust on his lips.

He groans in approval and kisses you again, elegance making way for urgency. His fingers no longer dance across your skin, but grasp your skin through your clothes, feeling you, but savoring the treat for as long as it lasts.

Your lips part, and Lord Lumentia puts you down. He still pins you to the wall. His six eyes burn with hunger, and his breath has already grown heavy.

“Not bad for Orellia’s whore,” he murmurs.

“Thank you, my lord,” you respond.

Before you can respond, he turns you around and pushes you into the wall. He kisses your neck, pressing against your body. His long hands reach into your bust. Long, warm fingers caress your skin, teasing your breasts and pressing your nipples. You can tell that he is not casting any spell, but you can feel warmth welling up inside of you. You push your hips against his crotch, grinding against him. You can already feel him getting hard under his clothes.

“It’s a shame I can’t tear this dress off you. Orellia could definitely afford another one.” You feel one of his hands rest against your leg, past the slit of your dress. He caresses you firmly, pressing against your tense thighs. He coyly avoids the inside of your legs, choosing instead to rub your leg up and down. This, combined with the attention given to your nipples, is almost enough to make you lose control of your legs.

“My lord,” you manage to gasp, in just the way that would pique his interest the most.

“Hush, little one. They might hear.” His light fingers inch closer and closer to the inside of your thigh, but nowhere near where they were needed the most. You grind against his crotch again, and he inhales, suddenly grabbing your breast firmly. You yelp, but try to immediately muffle the sound.

Lord Lumentia definitely heard you. His fingers glide over to your sex, already wet under the sheer fabrics of your dress. His warm fingertip lands on your lips and you shudder, grinding again on his cock. He strokes your labia, relishing in the muffled sounds he coaxes out of your mouth. His touch is warm, firm, but betrays a barely-concealed hunger in the way he twitches and tenses every time you squirm and moan.

“No wonder he sent you. You can’t wait to have one of the Lords inside your cunt.” Lord Lumentia makes his way to your clit, and fingers it. His touch wrenches a small moan from you. He fingers it again, and you writhe, whimpering.

“Whore.”

He inserts a finger inside of you, pressing against your walls. You instinctively jerk your hips towards him, pushing his finger deeper, another desperate moan escaping your lips.

He continues fucking you with his finger, then two, then three. Your body seems to respond on its own, jerking and bucking. Your soft whimpers and moans grow slightly louder, and your legs begin to weaken, anticipating Lord Lumentia’s cock inside of you. He is already very hard through his clothes, and you feel his hunger through the breaths he lays against your ear.

And then you feel it. Your dress is pulled up over your hips, and you feel Lord Lumentia’s throbbing cock against your sex. He slides it up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. You whimper, thoughts already scrambled with a basal need for release.

He presses the thick head against your opening, and your knees almost buckle from the sensation. His warm breath tickles your ear.

“Beg for it,” he mutters, rubbing his cock against you, just barely pushing it inside.

“My lord… please…” you manage to sputter, through a whimper.

“Please, what?” He stops moving.

“Please don’t stop-- I need you inside me--” Was he casting a spell over you, or were your thoughts falling apart as you stood?

“Keep going. I want to hear you beg,” he murmurs, his once silky voice now a low, animalistic growl.

“My lord, please, I need you, please fuck me-”

“You can do better than that.”

“Please my lord, I need you inside of me--”

“Try again.”

“My lord, please--”

Your voice is cut off by a moan as he pushes his thick cock inside of you.

He thrusts once, forcefully, almost sending you to your knees. You manage to keep standing, legs shivering from cold and the effort required to keep you upright.

You barely have a moment to keep your thoughts together before he starts thrusting. His moans blend into the night wind, dissolving into the breeze like dust. Your moans get inelegantly loud; if anyone were to walk into the balcony, they would definitely hear. But that was not unexpected; the fae loved to have a taste of mortal flesh, when they could have it. Your fingernails fruitlessly scramble against the stone brick as he continues thrusting into you.

And you were here to weaponize that desire.

“Good little Winter slut,” he grunts. “Doing exactly as your master tells you. Do you like your reward?”

“My reward- comes from my master alone,” you manage to say.

“Oh, unsatisfied with this? Do you think they could do better?” he pants. “I’m sure you enjoy their frigid cock in you, fucking you until you can see no more.”

Before you can respond, he grabs your hips and thrusts faster, slapping your flesh, overloading your senses. You see stars as he fucks you, and you can no longer control your voice as he goes faster, moaning and grunting.

The tension in your body grows tighter and tighter, almost too much to bear, and you can feel Lord Lumentia losing control as well, his voice growing strained and his wings twitching. You take a moment to look at him, and he looks almost transformed with lust, nearing his climax. He sees you peeking, and his eyes flutter.

“You want to watch me? Watch me as I cum? Don’t take your eyes off me. Don’t you dare. Don’t you-”

And your body clenches, your walls squeezing around Lord Lumentia’s cock. The tension overflows, and you release, a ragged moan falling from your throat as your mind falls apart, and your hips tremble in ecstasy. You feel the Summer Lord twitch and jerk inside you, warm fluid flooding inside of your cunt. You can barely hear his voice as he moans, your own orgasm filling up your senses.

The climax fades, and Lord Lumentia pulls out of you, soaking wet. He turns you around and kisses you, pressing against your shuddering body.

“Well, well,” he whispers against your ear, still pinning you to the wall. His breath is heavy from exertion. “You really are quite the specimen your master managed to capture.”

“Thank you, my lord,” you exhale, brushing your leg against his. Lord Lumentia chuckles.

“You would love another round, wouldn’t you?” Lord Lumentia says, brushing a finger against your lips. “Oh, but look at you, poor thing. You’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

“I’m willing to be with you as many times as you would like, my lord. Or… as many times as it would take for you to answer my master’s call.”

Lord Lumentia laughs, a soft, warm sound that warms you from the inside out. “Tell your master,” he murmurs, putting a hand on your waist, “that I will consider his offer.”

He leans forward and kisses you again, a hungry sound escaping his throat. You can feel his desire rooting itself in your mind, an unconscious act of magic nearly driving all reason from your mind. You kiss him back, your hips beckoning against him for more.

#monster fucking #monsterfucker #monsterfucking #exophilia #monster fucker #monster kink #terato #monster lover #nsft #fae #someone tag that fae fucking blog im too shy to do it #monster x reader #my writing #monster x human

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janumun · 9 months

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Being the brand new omega roommate for alpha Alhaitham and alpha Kaveh, who were both carefully looking for a needed extra to fill in the space in their housing near Port Ormos, purely for important research purposes Alhaitham claims.

And conveniently, they were also looking for another proper lover (Preferably an omega) for their alphan pod for their upcoming ruts, both of which just so happen to be right around the corner.

Poor sensitive alpha Kaveh, and absolute buster alpha Alhaitham, are both equally slick and suave in pursuing what they desire. Once they put their mind to something none can ever stop them from achieving their appointed goal.

Kaveh is more romantically obvious than Alhaitham, but that doesn't mean Alhaitham won't have his fair share of aces up his sleeve to properly convince you to join them in their pack. And with their ruts coming up alongside the brand new omega moving in, time is short and ever increasingly fragile.

Surely you will be so kind as to aid their little predicament?

OBLIGATORY NSFW 🔞 BREAK

Before we dive pussy first into this, I’ll have you know that your Ask was what took me out of commission for this long, Nonny. I had to sink back into the sofa and just stare into space for the next several weeks. 🤣

While I would’ve really loved to write something more cohesive for this (I am so, so insane for the ABO AU), the ideas I had would’ve ended up spanning a multi chapter fic, which I simply could not afford to work on, at the moment xD You are so ✨big-brained✨ for this, though!

If you’ve read a couple of my stories, you might’ve noticed I prefer romance dashed spice over hot, sweaty, sexy spice (very good on you if you prefer the latter!).

I’m currently working on a story where Traveler (/my MC) lives with the Akademiya duo and part of their dynamic might be reflected in these few headcanons I’ve got for Alpha Hai/Ω Reader/Alpha Kaveh.

I cannot believe this is nearly 1k words of ABO thirst because I simply hold no control over myself.

Al-Haitham’s fond of you. It isn’t quite what he intended — nor the direction he intended it in — when he divulged the fact that he was interested in you.

Perhaps, it is your unconventional ideologies, only on par with Kaveh’s naivety, or perhaps the way you seem to have Kaveh so domesticated (he was at Al-Haitham’s ear for weeks for daring to point out how the two of you seemed to get on like a house on fire, worded perhaps in less kinder terms) it’s an amusing sight to witness.

Or your unwitting genius, when you come across Al-Haitham on days he’s going through new texts, and strike up a debate regarding the contents of the author’s mindset and the degree and quality of said research.

He isn’t quite as obvious as Kaveh; ready with his smiles and clear affections worn across his sleeve.

…Nor is he quite as lacking as his former friend in self-discipline, when it comes to reigning in his instincts as an Alpha. Finding himself against you at the weakest callings of an approaching rut, or the siren call of your heats. Al- Haitham supposes you too are to blame, for spoiling Kaveh as you do; you never turn the man down and try as Kaveh might, to be a gentleman and spare you, it is always you giving him the go-ahead to fuck you as he pleases, wherever…

And later on, whenever—

His ruts are close at hand, Kaveh finds it physically intolerable to have you close and not bury his entire body into yours, threading his limbs about your body and sinking his face into the soft heat of your breasts.

He started off gentle and slow at the beginning of your arrangement, and he remained determined to follow through his resolve to relieve himself on your scent alone. The idea of tackling you down like some sort of… beast every time a rut hit, seeking you out for mere physical relief — despite your arrangement — didn’t sit right in his heart.

But you are a curious and fascinating creature, and Kaveh did not quite bet on being as infatuated with you as he is; you seem almost crafted to complete a whole of him. And you are… unfortunately, incredibly persistent.

And—

Incredibly tight, he gasps. When Kaveh finds himself buried up to the hilt within you, he’s blind to all sense except the feeling of your wet heat, the burn of pleasure streaking up his length and knotting into his abdomen with the force and desperation of his thrusts. Close, the need to have you closer burning at the back of his throat and gnawing with the bite of bitter teeth into the swell of his lip.

“K-Kaveh.” Before you scold, and he complies, immediate; love-stricken, lust-driven, clenching his teeth into a bite at your shoulder and moans deep and long, mirroring the intensity of his release into you.

Nosing at that spot against your neck in post coital euphoria and overwhelming protection. Uncharacteristic burst of an intolerable instinct to bite into you and mark you his.

When Kaveh and Al-Haitham have their ruts coincide on the rare occasion—

The Scribe does not shy away from availing his privilege of several days of paid leave, off his roster of scarcely used holidays, when his ruts are near carnal, and certainly not when they happen to fall upon the same cycles as Kaveh’s (perhaps a natural result of bonding with the same omega). He needs the entirety of a 24/7 workday and more, when he is forced to share your body, pleasure and time with Kaveh. The latter not ceasing to whine and huff, even as he moans at Al-Haitham about positioning her right, going slower so she can concentrate on us both.

Taunts usually he answers with silence, or on occasion, when Kaveh is unbearably loud,

“Perhaps you aren’t pleasing her as well as you seem to think yourself able, if you believe she cannot concentrate simply because I am “harsh” on her.” Punctuating his statement with a particularly firm thrust, your quivering moan breaking along with Kaveh’s fumed sputtering.

Your tightening, at the punishing pace Al-Haitham sets for you both, dragging their orgasms from the Alphas at the same time, flooding you to the brim with their hot seed. Their knots traveling up and lodging into your pussy undoing your own vehement release from how large the stretch is, all of a sudden, and you see stars as you collapse against Al-Haitham, his low grunt burning at your ears from how incredibly hot you find him, so undone inside you.

Squeezing around them on instinct, pulling a collective groan from the two men. Al-Haitham raises his head, his gaze inspiring a fresh wave of nervous anticipation inside you, from how he looks at you as if he has no intentions of stopping until he has you well and truly bred. A man of spare words but the intensity of his lust and emotions once unstoppered, is enough to have your legs aching for days after.

A shudder creeping up your body from where he treks a gentle thumb against your cheek and just before he kisses you, a whisper of one, “Well done,” has your heart soaring within your chest.

And if Kaveh’s soft brushes of kisses against the crown of your shoulders, venturing just shy of your glands, is anything to go by, you know he too, is far from done yet.

#asks #anonymous #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact al haitham #al haitham smut #kaveh smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin kaveh x reader smut #genshin al haitham x reader smut #GI kaveh #ns/fw #janulogue

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caffiend-queen · 3 months

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I'll Break Your Heart Before You Break Mine...

An Avengers - Loki Holidays In Hel story

I've been cleaning up and adding bits to my Holidays in Hel series because really, it's my favorite. I hope you enjoy, and thank you as always for reading!

In which Loki's courtship of Mina (refer to "The Christmas Party") hits a snag when his timid little darling suddenly decides to dump him on Valentine's Day.

I wrote this listening to the beautiful "Takeaway" from The Chainsmokers and Illenium. Have a listen here: https://youtu.be/lzkKzZmRZk8

The first time Loki had seen a Valentine, he approached it with the same look of disgust one would give a used litter box.

“What is this cloying monstrosity?” he queried, holding the little card up by his thumb and forefinger.

“Well…” Mina’s brow furrowed. “Oh, of course. This is your first Valentine’s Day on Ear- Midgard, isn’t it?” Her boyfriend (?) beau (?) Supreme Overlord of Sex (!) was by now lounging elegantly on his suede couch, arms stretched along the top of it and legs sprawled obscenely. As usual. "This is a Valentine, it's from my niece in Wisconsin."

One dark brow arched. "Explain?"

"Well, you create little cards and give them to people you care about, family, friends..." she coughed a little and added quickly, "boyfriends. They're usually heart-shaped, pink or red, and-"

"The human heart is not shaped like that," Loki interrupted, "I've torn them still beating from the chests of my enemies and they more resemble-"

"No trips down memory lane, brother!" Thor interrupted with perfect timing, which was extremely unusual. "We must make ready. There is a new mission.” He'd slammed open the door to Loki's suite, knowing it infuriated his brother every time.

With a sigh, Loki stood, waving one pale hand and was instantly clad in his dark green armor. "And who might we be engaging? More angry Dark Elves? The crossbred Jotunn ice bear? A blood witch from the Grievous Clan?"

“No, Professor Snape, they’re … what did you call them, Thor?” Tony Stark rambled into the apartment, standing over Loki, who had reseated himself with an uncomfortable Mina on his lap. She’d tried to pop up when Thor casually broke in, but Loki’s arm came down like an iron bar to keep her in place.

Thor was nosing around the fresh-baked muffins on the counter. “They are Plesticites, do you remember battling them on the Wandering Moons of Alfheim, brother?”

Loki groaned audibly. The aforementioned creatures were multi-limbed monstrosities that spat secretions as thick as tar and vile as vomit. “And why are they here on Midgard?” he snarled, “Why did Heimdall not raise the alarm before these sacs of pus found a wormhole?”

Mouth full of muffin, his brother shrugged one giant shoulder. Stark, with that infuriating cheer he had only when interrupting someone else’s love life, clapped his hands together. “Chop chop, Asgardian supermodels, we’re off to kill the things that look like Donald Trump’s ass.”

“Darling,” Loki gently set her down on a cushion and rose, leaning over to capture a kiss. “I shall see you anon.”

It was a spectacular kiss, so it took Mina a moment to realize a case holding six of Loki’s best daggers was on the counter next to the muffins. Knowing he never went into battle without them, she tucked them under her arm and hoofed it for the roof, trying to catch him before the helicarrier took off.

The team was still on the landing pad, and the wind carried their conversation back to her as she exited the elevator.

“- to celebrate the day with Lady Mina?” She knew Thor had Big Plans for Jane, especially after Darcy handed him a step-by-step list for what was required of a romantic boyfriend. Mina lingered for a moment around the corner, a little excited. Plans? Loki had plans for Valentine’s Day?

“You must be joking,” he sneered, “you believe I would stoop to celebrating a pathetic testament to retail excess? Debasing myself with the purchase of stuffed animals and mediocre flowers?”

Mina sighed and leaned against the elevator door. So, no Valentine’s Day, then.

“But your lady, she will expect it,” Thor said earnestly. “It is considered most important.”

“He’s right, you don’t want to screw this up.” Mina cocked her head. Was that Bucky? “This stuff is important to women.” Loki didn’t cut the soldier off, as he’d done with his brother. She always found Loki’s - if not friendship, a comfortableness, an accord - with James Barnes intriguing. Mina had asked him about it one day, and he’d pinned her with that bleak, blue-gray gaze of his. “Loki knows what it’s like to be tortured. For decades.” She'd felt her heart splinter in that moment. For both of them.

“It is of no consequence,” Loki said dismissively, “by then, Mina and I will no longer be-” the roar of the helicarrier’s engines began and the rest of his statement was lost. Numbly taking the case of daggers back down to Loki’s apartment, Mina hesitated at the door. Would he have already revoked her access to his place?

But the door opened and she stepped in. It still smelled like Loki- sharp and clear, like pine and snow. She marched through his suite of rooms, picking up the few items she’d left there- a silk slip, her spare toothbrush, two books she’d loved and recommended to him. That was it. There were no photos of the two of them together, no tenderly written notes. It was so familiar, Mina thought bitterly, just like the last three times.

What was it with her and Valentine’s Day? Who the fuck gets dumped three times on the most “romantic” day of the year? Stuffing everything in her bag, she could remember Kevin’s stupid face, "It's not me, babe. It's you." February 14th, 2017.

Milo, "I just feel that Valentine's Day is an excuse for women to siphon up free gifts, and I refuse to be manipulated by female greed." Pause. "Before I leave, did you get me anything?" February 14th, 2014.

And then there was Brian. "Yeah, I don't see a future with us, Mina. You're always busy at school and I need a woman who can commit." That turned out to be her best friend Marcia. Who was already married. February 14, 2019.

“And it’s happening again?” she gave a short, humorless chuckle, “At least this time, Loki’s not really my boyfriend. I’m not sure the word boyfriend could apply to a seven-foot-tall alien who looks like a supermodel and hands out orgasms like they’re penny candy. Fuck this.”

Stomping into Jane’s lab on the 47th floor, Mina forced herself to smile. This was a new job and she couldn’t afford to break down. Of course, she had this new job because the thermodynamics lab fired her after the paparazzi storm from her night as Loki’s date at Stark’s disastrous Christmas Party. They wouldn’t leave her alone and one even burst into the ladies’ room as she was hitching her undies back up. And, her boss was just walking out of her stall as well. Fortunately, Jane immediately made the case to Tony that Mina would be very helpful in her research.

Unfortunately, Darcy was never shy about prying into everyone else’s personal lives. “Hey, Mina Mina Bo-bina, what does your sex god Asgardian have planned for Valentine’s Day?”

Jane didn’t look up from her microscope. “Thor is the God of Sex, actually.”

Without thinking, Mina shook her head. “No, Thor is the God of Fertility. Loki is the God of Lust.” They'd both been studying a book - The Royals Guide to Asgard together. Tossing her bag on her desk, she added under her breath, “Not that it matters.”

Darcy, who could under most circumstances be the poster child for Adderall, was remarkably single-minded when it came to heartbreak. Eyes narrowed behind her glasses, she pushed her face close to Mina’s. “You’ve been crying. Did Mr. Hot and Psycho do something?”

“Nope, that’s the point,” she said, “we’re doing nothing for Valentine’s Day because he’s dumping me.”

“No!” Jane was shocked, “Thor says Loki is crazy about you!”

“I overheard him talking to Thor and Bucky when I went up to bring him his daggers for the mission,” Mina said bitterly. “He said that he and I would no longer be together.” Her shoulders slumped. “But I don’t think we ever were.”

It was not ten minutes later when Darcy had mercilessly bullied her into joining “Girl’s Night,” refusing to tell her where the herd of single women were migrating to.

Three days later and no word from Loki, it settled into her with a despondent certainty that he would not be “courting her” (as he’d put it) anymore. She didn’t ask Jane if she’d heard from Thor, because the look of discomfort, then pity was more than she could bear. So Mina kept a cheerful smile and pretended everything was fine as bouquets started popping up on desktops, boxes of chocolate and heart-shaped cookies circulated and whispered conversations filled with giggles were all around her.

Screw Valentine’s Day. It sucked.

Nonetheless, she defiantly dressed for the girl’s “Cupid is Stupid” outing with Darcy in a short, saucy little emerald-colored dress she’d picked up on sale. She had been saving it to wear on a special occasion with Loki, but…. Angrily dashing away a tear before it ruined her cat’s-eye eyeliner, Mina straightened her shoulders. She would go have fun with Darcy and the girls. Then this day would be over, and-

The reality that she would eventually be seeing Loki in the halls, perhaps in the lab every now and then made her sink onto her couch. Would he be bringing new women to social events? Mina’s lips thinned and she stood up, seizing her bag and storming out the door. “It’s going to be a bit more difficult finding a date that doesn’t mind you kidnapping her off the street!” she hissed, halting at the appalled stare of nice Mrs. Wyscowski who lived next door in E16 as she got off the elevator. The woman was carrying a bouquet of roses. ‘Of course,’ Mina thought, ‘even my 73-year-old neighbor gets flowers.’ Instantly feeling guilty, she held the door for her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. W. The roses are so pretty!”

“Thank you, dear. And what are you and Mr. Odinson doing this evening?” Mrs. Wyscowski loved Loki, of course. The charming bastard insisted on kissing her wrinkled hand every time he spotted her.

Mina’s smile faltered, but she stepped into the elevator. “Have a good night, Mrs. W.”

When her Uber pulled up to the address Darcy gave her, she audibly groaned. Seriously?

The driver laughed, looking in his rearview mirror. “Not what you were planning on?”

“Knowing my friend, I should have,” Mina sighed. Cherry’s Sexual Harassment Pub was bustling with giggling women lined up at the bar and guarding table space for their friends close to the stage. Passing by gigantic posters of bare-assed men with names like “Blaze,” and “Nitro,” she rolled her eyes.

“Bitch!” Darcy shouted at the top of her considerable lungs, standing on her chair and waving at her like she was a one-winged sparrow, trying to take flight. But when one of the buff, shirtless waiters brought over a tray of Sex on the Beach shooters, Mina took two.

Just as Mina was throwing back her first shot, a bloody and exhausted crew was exiting the helicarrier, eager to shower off the genuinely disgusting mission and focus on something new: sex, booze, and for a few, even romance. Thor nudged his brother with one giant arm. ��Have you reconsidered what to do for the Lady Mina? The night is young.”

“I have told you, Thor,” Loki snarled, “I do not indulge in such plebian excess.”

Undeterred, his brother said, “Jane has mentioned that she has seemed quite despondent these last few days. Have she seemed so when she speaks with you?”

Loki shrugged. “I do not speak with Mina whilst on missions away. I’m sure she is fine. And most likely,” he said, his pace increasing as they exited onto their floor, “waiting for me in my chambers. So if you’ll excuse me…”

But Mina wasn’t. She’d been very good about showing up when he returned from missions, working here in the Tower in Jane’s lab gave her proximity and advance warning. In fact … as Loki strolled to the bedroom he noticed her absence, along with the few little things she’d left in his suite - including A Brief History of Time, a book he'd been rather enjoying. Where was the little minx? Sweeping a hand down his body to restore himself to spotlessness and into a fresh black suit, he set off for the labs, Mina was no doubt working late.

Mina was laughing uncontrollably as Darcy had her legs looped around the back of a stripper who had his head buried in her considerable cleavage. He was still managing to swirl those agile hips to the beat of “Girls, Girls, Girls” by Motley Crew even as he was making motorboat noises. A sudden vision of Loki teaching her how to dance the tango on his terrace rose in her mind and she angrily shook her head. She was not going to be one of those single people on Valentine’s Day who got all drunk and weepy! Well … reaching for the champagne in the middle of the table, she drank right from the bottle. Not one of those single people who cry, anyway. Screw Loki. Screw Loki and his beautiful agile hips and those fingers and how he’d purr all those filthy things in her ear when she was coming.

Ugh.

“Break his heart before he breaks mine,” she mumbled, nearly inaudible under the screaming of the other women. But someone was listening.

In fact, the Stark group had enjoyed VIP treatment all night - graciously escorted to the best table on the floor and several bottles of complimentary champagne delivered with "Compliments of the house, beautiful ladies." The shirtless blonde waiter - who was hilariously named "Thor," according to his nametag - wore impeccable white cuffs and collar and was most attentive, chuckling indulgently as his perfect, firm ass was groped more than once. "Thor" even leaned over invitingly by Mira as he'd brought more drinks, but she smiled nervously and scooted her chair over a bit.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he oozed, “is there something … special I can get you?”

“Hell, yeah!” shouted Darcy, “Our girl just broke up with her boyfriend! Right before Valentine’s Day, can you believe it?” Mina cringed so hard she could feel her spine compress.

"Thor" took her hand, eyes wide in his most sincere sympathy. “He’s a fool to let you get away, baby. You need a man who knows how to appreciate a queen like you.”

‘Oh, gawd …’ she thought. “Oh, I broke up with him,” she nodded firmly, “so yeah, it’s all good. It’s fine. Really,” she emphasized, trying to yank her hand away from his. Her palm was tingling like crazy and she wiped it on her skirt several times, frowning at the odd burn.

But then the lights came up and the smarmy DJ’s voice bellowed out, “Heeeey, Ladies! Welcome to the Cupid is Stupid spectacular! We’re gonna give you pretty little things all the affection you deserve tonight! Up first, give a waaaaarm, wet welcome to Valentino!”

She was laughing, Mina just couldn’t help it. This was so fucking cheesy. What was she doing here?

What was she doing here? Looking around the room, she could tell she was the only one not totally invested in the web the strippers were weaving. Her forehead creased. That was a weird image. But all the girls were screaming, waving tens and twenties, glassy-eyed and utterly focused on the man on stage, currently undulating in a g-string. The waiters were circulating, putting down more drinks, running fingertips along a cheek, along a shoulder or down the neck and dipping into cleavage. And the girls all seemed to love it. Wiping her sweaty forehead, Mina blinked, looking at her phone. Just to check the time, that’s all.

Nothing from Loki. Of course.

Rising abruptly from her seat, she made her way through the crowd of rapturous women. Once in the bathroom, she splashed her face with cold water, forgetting about her careful makeup. Why was she so sweaty? Looking in the mirror and wiping away her streaked mascara, Mina sighed. This was worse than being at home watching While You Were Sleeping and weeping uncontrollably. “I’ll walk home,” she said to the grimy mirror. “Get some exercise. Yeah. You know, endorphins.”

Walking back to the table to grab her purse and bid Darcy goodnight, she stumbled to a stop.

Loki was dancing. More specifically, her ex-boyfriend (well, the gorgeous god she’d been dating) was stripping. And the screams rose at a pitch that could shatter crystal. His vivid jade eyes were fixed on her, a filthy, knowing smirk on his face. His body was art. All marble-sheened skin with flexing, lean muscle beneath. She’d always been amused when people assumed Loki wasn’t physically powerful, like his bulky brother. Oh, no… those perfectly tailored suits of his hid a body of exquisite grace, broad shoulders and a chest and arms banded thickly with muscle. His long, long legs were sculpted, and when he lifted her to straddle his thigh and rubbed her against the taut strands there … oh, god. What was he doing here! This couldn’t-

“Loki?” she shouted, incredulous and trying to get closer to the stage.

“Hello, love.” She could see Loki’s lips moving, but even over the howl of the music and shrieks from the women, it still sounded like he was talking right into her ear. “I thought I would give you a bit of a surprise. Then, I intend to take you backstage, hoist you upon the nearest level surface and fuck you until you beg for mercy. Which of course, I shall not give you.” There was never a time Mina was more aware that he was a god. So beautiful, even under those tawdry pink lights, his hips moving in erotic figure eights and dancing just for her. So intent on reaching him, Mina never noticed another of the waiters come up from behind her, slipping an arm around her waist.

Thor was just helping Jane on with her coat as Loki strode into the lab. “Where is Mina?” He knew his tone was sharp, but he was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency, a necessity to reach her- to find his girl before-

“She’s out with Darcy and the girls.” Jane’s tone was not friendly. “You know, since you dumped her, it’s really not any of your business.”

“I beg your pardon?”

It was clear Loki was shocked, which was shocking in of itself since the god prided himself on no expression other than urbane amusement or profound boredom. “She went out with the girls?” Jane said less aggressively.

“Where?” His tone was sharp, but the couple didn’t take offense. They could feel it too, that something was wrong here. Loki was never agitated like this, not even in the middle of battle.

“Um…” Jane consulted her phone. “It’s a strip club,” she looked at him apologetically, “called, ugh, now I know Darcy picked it! It’s called Cherry’s Sexual Harassment Pub.” Thor choked down a laugh as his brother and Jane glared at him.

“This…” Loki hesitated, another shocking departure for him. “There is something wrong. I cannot say, but I feel it.”

To his credit, Thor immediately stepped up. “I shall come with you brother. My dearest, would you mind putting off our evening for a few hours more?”

She nodded, “Of course. Should I come with you? You know, to wrangle Darcy?”

“We must go, please, stay here.” It was the 'please' that stopped her from protesting as Loki dragged off her boyfriend. Loki never said please.

Darcy was screaming herself hoarse. She didn’t know how this could have possibly happened, but this was the best fucking night of her life! How the fuck could Bucky have overcome his shyness to be stripping for all these women? The Winter Soldier stared at her, licking his full lips as his crotch jutted at her obscenely, thick thighs bending to lure her closer to the stage. His long hair fell into his eyes, glowing with need for her. Her hand reached out. There was just one more layer to peel off, just the tiniest scrap of spandex between her and what she was certain was the biggest cock in North America. Just one little yank on that strap and... She was still trying to surge forward when the arms came around her from behind, gripping her tightly and making her ribs compress against her lungs. It felt like the most brutal kind of suction, feeling like the blood was being pulled out of the pores in her skin, but all she could think of was to get to Bucky- that beautiful bastard, she knew he always wanted her he did and then she was coming legs twitching and rubbing together hands still reaching out touch him.

MaryBeth from Offshore Accounts was dreamily watching Steve Rogers bare all that perfect, golden skin and rippling muscle. He was clean-shaven, not that scruffy beard he’d been wearing and those patriotic blue eyes were lasered in on her, he was going to tear her clothes off and fuck her right on the table, she could hear him! So MaryBeth swept out an arm, knocking everything off the surface and climbing on, hauling her skirt up. “Right here, Steve honey! I AM SO READY!” Darleen McMasters from the table next to theirs was from Queens, married 22 years and just here to keep her best friend and current divorcee Carla company, sat up abruptly. “FRANK?” she shouted, jaw dropped, “What on EARTH are you doing!” Her husband looked down, giving her a rakish wink and an extra little thrust of his hips.

Interestingly, Carla was also watching Frank get naked on stage, unbuttoning her blouse and hoping he’d FINALLY notice how much nicer her breasts looked than Darlene's.

Theresa from Digital Media was dreamily enjoying the sight of Carol Danvers peeling off that gorgeous fucking bodysuit, to show even more gorgeous fucking curves, her blonde hair shining like a beacon and Theresa was ready to run her hands through it-

By the time Loki had apparated himself and Thor into the middle of the club, it was silent, the raucous music gone and only the bestial grunts and slavering of the things currently feeding on the women.

“By the Nine…” gasped Thor, instantly calling Mjölnir to him as he went back to back with Loki, who’d been searching for Mina. He found her writhing furiously against the incubus grappling her from behind. The truly amusing miscalculation of Midgard mythology - he thought while sending twelve daggers sailing through the air at the demon - was believing that the Incubi were attractive and seductive. They were repellant, horrifying, a grisly amalgamation of sinew, rot and slimy, mottled skin. They actually made the Plesticites the Avengers slaughtered that day look appealing. This one’s maw opened, showing jagged, rotting fangs as it screamed in rage and agony, punctured by the dozen blades in a tidy, cross-shaped pattern and falling off Mina’s back like a sack of meat.

Thor’s hammer tore through another of the creatures, making the woman holding it scream “Leonardo! Don’t leave me! I believe in your Nature Alliance!” before she collapsed. And then the battle was on. Over twenty of the Incubi, mouths dripping black blood that sizzled like acid on the floor stalked toward them. They were so. Fucking. Hungry. They had planned this Valentine’s Day massacre for a couple of decades and no upstart Asgardian royalty was going to take their feast from them. Complicating matters was that most of the demons were able to hold onto the image of whatever their victim was imagining, and for many of the girls - particularly MaryBeth from Offshore Accounts who had dreamed of getting into Captain America’s red, white and blue suit for years now - were unwilling to let go of the Incubi draining them to death.

Black blood and gnarled, twisted limbs torn from desiccated flesh flew through the smoky air as the princes of Asgard ripped their way through the thicket of demonic visitors, as he leaned back gracefully to avoid a spray of ichor, Loki watched Mina leap on to the back of the incubus currently finishing off an unconscious Darcy. The foolish creature still wore a dreamy smile on her red-lipsticked mouth, and she slid gracelessly to the floor as her rescuer stabbed the creature in the back of the neck, shoving hard to get the razor-sharp blade through its hide. He spun in one more circle to finish off the fiend sneaking up on Thor before turning back to seize Mina.

“You had to burst in here. Creating such a fuss.” The voice was beautiful, well-bred and slightly amused. The creature it belonged to was perfection, everything a man should be - blond, very tall with a tight, perfect ass and red, full lips. And in one long-fingered hand, it was gripping the throat of his Mina, easily holding her off the ground as she kicked and thrashed, clawing at his muscled forearm. “There are so very many pretty, lonely girls in this city, on this night of all nights. And yet, you insisted on bothering ussss.” The man hissed the last word and displayed a mouth full of alarmingly sharp, needle-like teeth. “Now, I shall consume this meaningless human in front of you. Its mouth opened horribly wide, like a snake’s dislodging its jaw and Loki’s hand came up again, inhumanly, impossibly fast and threw his last dagger, a gleaming silver blur that nicked Mina’s throat, sending a spray of blood into the open mouth of the demon behind her.

It let out a scream of agony, smoke pouring from its throat and slamming on to the filthy floor, writing and howling before abruptly disappearing in a puff of sulfurous smoke, along with the remains of the other incubi.

From there, it was really just a matter of cleaning up and damage control. The little club was suddenly packed with SHIELD agents and, Loki noted sourly, Doctor Strange, who was attending to the women, briskly erasing their memories of the night and putting in a suggestion of a gas leak.

“How original,” Loki sneered.

Bucky walked up behind him. “And here I thought my night was the worst Valentine’s Day choice ever.” He patted him lightly on his expensively suited shoulder. “You okay? Mina, too?”

“Indeed,” Loki said approvingly, “she slew one of the creatures herself.” He looked at the soldier again and decided to do something he traditionally considered loathsome. A bit of matchmaking. “However, your help is needed immediately for Miss Lewis.”

Bucky frowned, looking over at a pale Darcy, two paramedics still trying to bring her around. “What can I do?”

Thor was close enough to be eavesdropping shamelessly, and he leaned in. “An incubus bite can only be reversed in one way, my friend.”

Picking up the thread, Loki walked Bucky closer. “The incubus presents the vision of the person the victim desires most. It is why they are irresistible. As it happens, Miss Lewis believed she was watching you perform for her.”

“What?” Bucky choked, going a little pale himself.

“You must … attend to her in order to heal her, I am certain you know what we are saying,” Loki finished smoothly. When his friend leaned down to cautiously pick the girl up, he made a negligent gesture with one pale hand and send the two of them back to Barnes’ quarters in the Tower.

“Brother,” Thor boomed, “did I just see…? Was that a … good deed?”

In a flash, another of his brother’s daggers was at his throat. “Never say such a repugnant thing to me again!” Loki snarled, eyes narrowed as Thor backed away, chuckling.

“I must return to Jane,” he said, picking up Mjölnir and turning to the door. “And I believe you have a beautiful woman of your own to attend to.”

Placing his hands in the pockets of his beautiful suit, Loki strolled to Mina, who was attempting to wipe some of the gore off her skin. “Oh, my god,” she gagged a little, “I smell like something that washed up on the beach. How is it that you look perfectly put together?”

A corner of his mouth turned up, just slightly. “I am a god.” Her pretty face fell and she went back to scrubbing futilely at her dress. “That was a rather fetching gown,” he offered.

“Was is the operative word here,” she sighed, giving up. “You’re bad luck for expensive dresses.”

“Perhaps if you’d been waiting in my rooms at the Tower like a good girl,” he said haughtily, “your dress would be intact.”

“What?” His usually sweet-natured, mild girl threw the filthy bar towel at him. “Seriously? So you could dump me in person? How nice of you! That’s just never going to-” With a sigh, Loki seized her around the waist and they were gone.

“Geddoff me!” Mina was wiggling, trying to get loose from Loki’s steel grip.

“Such a bad girl,” he said disapprovingly, “I must seek you out in a club catering to male nudity, save you from the Incubi and this is your gratitude?”

“Gratitude! Gratitude?” Her eyes were furious slits and she was snarling like a feral cat. “You DUMPED me! You have no right to-” Releasing her abruptly, he smiled a bit to hear her startled scream and then the huge splash. Hitching his trousers, Loki seated himself on a rock outcropping, waiting for her to surface. Mina did, paddling and splashing furiously in a rather adorable fashion until she was calmer. Wiping the water out of her eyes, she glared up at him. “Where are we?”

“This is Valeria,” he said, settling more comfortably. “It is an undeveloped planet that Asgard holds in guardianship. It is one of the last pure places in the universe.” As she swam closer, his clothes disappeared and he joined her in the water.

Mina gritted back a simper as she watched him rise from the crystal water, the waves sluicing off his hard body as he smoothed his wet hair off his face. “If it’s undeveloped, why are we here?” A wicked little smile graced his lips and she groaned audibly.

“I keep a vacation cottage here,” he said, swimming around her in circles. “Just a humble abode when I require peace and quiet.”

“Then, why am I here?” she pursued.

“Because you long to travel and take a safari in a far-flung country, Africa, perhaps. You wish to see wild animals and places undefiled by man.”

Mina flushed. “You’ve been looking at my Pinterest account again!”

“Darling…” Loki drew her onto his lap in the water. “Valeria has over 1,930,000 species of animals that have never been seen anywhere but here. I shall take you all over this world tomorrow and show you creatures you never imagined. Animals no other human eye will ever see.”

Looping her arms around his smooth shoulders, Mina gave him a weak smile. “Was that what you meant when you told Thor that we would no longer be … something by Valentine’s Day?”

“Of course, foolish girl. I’d planned this off-world safari for you for some time-” Loki’s answer was cut off when she pressed her mouth to his.

“So you weren’t breaking up with me,” she mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

Loki pursed his mouth. “Will there ever be a time you do not doubt me, my Mina? Where you will not compare me to the utterly pedestrian fools you have been with before me?”

She did feel terrible. But warm and kind of glowing inside at the same time. So when her god leaned back against the warm rocks and spread his long legs with an utterly filthy leer, she slipped deeper into the heavenly water, swimming between his knees. “Allow me to make it up to you, my King,” Mina said in the sweetest of tones. Loki was fighting a smile, she could tell, but he nodded regally. Putting his perfect, thick cock into her mouth was never a hardship, she thought, sucking carefully on the tip and fluttering her tongue on the sensitive underside. Lunging to bring the length of him down her throat, she enjoyed the low growl that rattled through his chest. Carefully cupping his scrotum with one hand, she slid her finger along the sensitive flesh behind his sac. One hand came up to pet her wet hair as his hips thrust up before he pulled them back.

“Such a good girl,” he praised her, chest heaving. When she finally circled his anus with a questing finger, Loki regretfully pulled her off his painfully stiff cock. “Not this time, darling. I must make you wet and soft for me.” Mina let out a startled shriek as he simply lifted her by the waist and planted her pussy on his face.

“Oh, my god, Loki I’m going to smother you! Wait, just- Oh, godddd,” she moaned, back arching a little as she felt his cool tongue and lips play with her. She could hear the sound of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of leaves as if the animals here were creeping down to watch.

Loki gently bit one of her swelling lips and held on as she tried to pull loose. “I require your attention to be focused upon me, feasting on this juicy cunt.” When she nodded a little randomly, he slid two fingers up her channel and attacked her again, sliding his tongue back and forth before latching onto her clit and sucking gently.

When he caught her startled gaze, he winked one jade-colored eye and scraped his teeth gently across the excruciatingly sensitive tissue of her pearl, enjoying her gasp and deliciously wanton moan as she came. Carefully rearranging her shaking arms and legs, he kneeled her on all fours and crawled behind her. “You present so beautifully for your alpha,” Loki purred, “just as a good little mate should. Now raise that lovely rump of your higher. I’m going to fuck you. Mate with you. Drive you into the ground.” He’d placed the reddened tip of his cock at her entrance, and then, he shoved himself up inside her, hard. “Force you to submit to me, beg for my come. You will yowl and cry out and moan, just like a saucy little female of this place would do.”

Mina was gripping the wet earth under her, trying to keep her balance as Loki drove into her with ferocity. She had a feeling he was still displeased - and perhaps the tiniest bit wounded? - by her willingness to believe he was casting her aside. And when his big hand came down on the soft cheeks of her ass with a thunderous “whap!” she was sure of it. Loki was so big in this position - filling her and spreading her so completely that it was hard to tell where she ended and he began. Everything inside her felt pressed aside for his driving cock and it was unimaginably good. He had one hand on her shoulder, shoving her back and forth on his cock, and the other pulling and stroking at her nipples. She could feel the shower of sparks move up her spine, so close to coming! And then the heartless, diabolical God of Lust grabbed her hair and pulled her head up, putting his lips to her ear.

“Do you see them, pet?” She did - two gigantic creatures were perched on the cliffs across the pond from them, silent, but alert. They were awe-inspiring, something that looked like a cross between a tiger and a bird of prey, massive wings covered in a golden striped fur. Mina’s gasp died in her throat as she stared at the two pairs of golden eyes staring back. “They recognize us, a species dominant to them, higher on the food chain. So they will bear witness as we mate, they will not drink until we leave…” His fingers were moving faster on her breasts, squeezing and plucking at them until he felt her thighs begin to quiver. “Ah … there you are, lovely. You’re so close, aren’t you?” His thrusts were faster, shorter and sharper inside her and Mina was nearly knocked off her knees.

“Please, my King,” she moaned, “please allow me to come!”

He whispered one last, sibilant hiss in her ear. “Come. Now.” And she felt his teeth bite down into her shoulder and every last bit of sense left her, screaming and shaking, moaning as she heard him growl deep in his chest. A warning. A challenge. And the two huge creatures rose gracefully and disappeared back into the jungle as he picked his Mina up and brought her to his home.

Long after, when Loki had meticulously bathed her limp form and smoothed a glorious-smelling lotion on her sore skin, had brushed her long hair dry and then hand-fed her bites of small and utterly delicious things, Mina finally forced enough brain cells back together to ask a question or two.

“What happened with the last incubus, the one that had me by the throat?” Loki had healed her as his first action when the demon disappeared.

Kissing each of her toes, he looked up at her slyly. “Your blood, lovely. An incubus cannot bear the essence of one pure at heart. Your blood nearly destroyed him, the monster had barely the strength to retreat back to Hel.”

Mina blinked. That was not what she’d been expecting. “I don’t- that’s ridiculous,” she said shyly, “I’m no pure thing.”

Her beautiful, infuriating Valentine gracefully moved over her, knees already between hers and spreading her wider. “Oh, my sweet Mina,” he said in a tone that could only be described as tender. “You are so very, very pure and good. You redeem me.” Loki smiled down as she blinked back tears. “And now, I shall attempt to defile you in a way that only a very, very good girl can be.”

I'm starting over with a vague memory of who might like my Loki and Avengers tales. If you would like on or off this list, please let me know! Thank you. Mwah!

@what-is-your-plan-today

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@the-soulofdevil

@americasass81

@mdemontespan1667

@sultry-rachael

@myoxisbroken

@gigglingtiggerv2

@notpedeka

@narnianarcher

@sylviefromneptune

@winterslove1917

@kimanne723

@hawkeyes-queen

@grymrayven

@stevihj

@lizette50

@jevans2

@wolfsmom1

@devikafernando

@wegingerangelica

@nildespirandum

@alexakeyloveloki

@thebatshitcrazyfangirl

@thehumming6ird

@archy3001

@iheartsebastianstan

@tomstinkerbell

@wolfpawn

@rayofdawnworld

@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

@dangertoozmanykids101

@alexakeyloveloki

@nuggsmum

@boredbrooder

@fairlightswiftly

@inkededucatednnerdy

@nonsensicalobsessions

@viv-annelore

@eleniblue

#tumblr besties and beloveds #loki fandom #tom hiddleston #loki smut #Avengers Holidays in Hel #yet another Avengers holiday fuckup #Valentine's Day with Loki #rogue roving incubi just because I love how it sounds

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entomolog-t · 6 months

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Multi Prompt Post; Mirror, Forlorn, Hush

Who else has ever thought, "You know what charades is missing? Angst."

In case the remark above wasn't clear, this chapter deals with some decent angst- you have been warned.

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word count: 2755

CW: Mild body horror, Panic/angst, Unintentional dehumanization, Adult language

I gasp as the weight in my hand thrashes- jerking up and scrambling back in my open palm.

It- it’s alive?!

As if I’d been given a handful of burning coals, instinct yanks my hands back and the… thing clatter onto the floor with an audible clink.

What the fuck is -

Before my brain can follow, a not quite human form stumbles to its feet and bolts away and at an unnerving speed. Within a matter of seconds the kitchen erupts into chaos. Honey’s barking reverberates against the walls as she follows suit- bounding after it as if it were one of the numerous elusive squirrels frequenting the property. Mouth open, she lunges, in an attempt to grab it but the creature dives out of the way, letting out a strained noise- a high pitched wail followed by a series of clicks as it darts under the kitchen table. Like a bull in a China shop, Honey continues her pursuit, carelessly shoving chairs aside without a second thought as she gives chase to … to what?? Its almost as if my brain stutters, stumbling over dots it’s struggling to connect.

The creature- as fast as it was- was no match for Honey, especially in the open expanse of the kitchen. Their frantic chase lasts all of 10 seconds before Honey has it cornered.

The creature squeaks- crying out as Honey pounces from side to side, yipping at it as she urges it to play in her very one sided game of chase- daring it to run. I stare blankly, having barely moved since my initial fright.

I couldn't quite see the creature from my vantage point behind Honey, but the glimpses I had gotten were telling; the iridescent sheen, the strange limbs…

There was no way…

The strained chittering from the corner jolts me out of my thoughts. Honey playfully nips at the creature not unlike the way she used to annoy the neighbors barn cat, blissfully unaware she was just torturing the poor thing… until he had swiped at her- The thought sends a chill through me. Would it bite her? Memories of its horrific mouth and those clawed finger tips are pulled from my mind… Sure, it was small, but that certainly didn’t mean that thing wasn’t dangerous- especially now that she had it cornered.

My mind was racing, searching desperately for some sort of plan of action. What was I supposed to do? There was no way I was letting that thing escape somewhere in my house- but its not like I could just let Honey maul some… Alien..? Monster? I still had no clue what that thing was, and there was absolutely no way I was going to be touching that thing myself. I shuddered as my brain conjured up various gore filled movie scenes of parasitic aliens burrowing themselves into a host. Was that what it was? Some juvenile alien looking for a host?? My eyes hastily dart around the kitchen, looking for some kind of solution- and then I see it.

A whiskey glass.

On the counter I spot one of the fancy glasses Clyde had insisted on bringing over the last time we drank. At the time I thought he was being pretentious, but at this moment I’m filled with nothing but thanks.

I take a wary step forward and watch as both Honey and the creature’s head are on me in an instant. I give a sharp whistle.

"Off." Honey tilts her head, reluctant to give up her new plaything, but upon making a noise of disapproval, she relents, trotting over behind me as she would when out hunting. I quickly take her spot- not letting the creature leave the corner.

There's an audible squeak from the creature as I kneel down. It chitters frantically, all four of its arms raised up in between us as it takes a step back.

Its antennae twitch in a way that almost seems ... nervous. It’s tail- I furrow my brow- it had a tail? Aside from the drastic change in size, the creature looked slightly different than it had before. For one- it had a tail; whip-like and bristly, almost like a porcupine with its spines folded back. It’s antennae seemed thicker, club-like near the tip, and its shell, no longer an inky black, had taken on a deep bluish green tone. It stares up at me, eyes wide and unblinking as it continues to chitter, head turning to look at the glass and back to me.

I raise the glass over its head and the creature stumbles, falling backwards in a much too human-like motion- a fearful little action that nearly makes me feel guilty. As the glass comes down over it, the creature ducks its head forward, clambering to its hands and knees- the whiskey glass too shallow even with it sitting.

For a moment, we both stare at each other, until the reality of the situation seems to settle in; I had caught some tiny creature maybe-alien in a whiskey glass.

Just what the Hell was I supposed to do now? Should I call some? Who would I even call??

I caught myself right before starting to chew on my thumb, trading in the old habit for occupying my hands with fidgeting instead. My eyes scan the countertops for my phone, finding it in its usual place at the corner opposite to me, right between my notepad and truck keys.

I hesitate- not too keen on the idea of leaving the creature unattended even for a brief moment, lest that thing get loose in my house. Wracking my brain for any sort of plan, I start taking a mental inventory of anything I could possibly use within arms reach.

Cleaning supplies, baking supplies, paper towels, paper plates-

I pause.

That could work.

Opening the cupboard to my left, I pull out a paper plate. Tipping the glass up ever so slightly, I slip the plate underneath, frantically trying to convince myself this is no different from catching a wasp.

It’s face turns up to lock eyes with me, muffled chittering escaping from through the glass. It seemed to stare daggers at me, squinting at me as if it were… insulted?

Questions of its intelligence resurface once again. There was no doubt in my mind that it was thinking, analyzing my actions as it scrutinized me… It had known how to lock the doors- Just how smart was this thing? More importantly - what was this thing?

As I shimmy the plate underneath the glass, the creature reluctantly crawls onto it, its glare never once relenting. I stand, placing the trapped monstrosity on the countertop near my phone. With a deep breath, I pick up my phone and stare at the screen- my mind once again racing at the bizarre logistics- just who the Hell I was supposed to call about a potential alien I had trapped like some kind of weird bug? Should I call Clyde? The police? They’d think I was crazy, right? Should I lie, or -

Tink.

A sharp clinking interrupts my thoughts. The creature bangs on the glass and I instinctively recoil

“Fat chance I’m letting you out-” I mutter, but my words die in my mouth the moment my eyes are on it. I watch in horrified fascination as the creature gestures frantically pointing to the notepad.

I freeze- heart beating wildly in my ears.

Did… Did it want to write?

An uneasy feeling creeps at the edge of my consciousness, making my skin prickle. As soon as I pick up the notepad it nods vigorously. That simple gesture made my skin crawl. It was communicating…

I feel as the blood drains from my face- a noticeable sinking feeling in my gut at the brief glimpse of this…this being’s intelligence.

I blanche, staring at the being, dumbfounded. Its mouthparts twitch under my gaze, as it continues pointing insistently at the notepad and then to the pen, looking all too human in its frustration.

It’s as though I’m underwater, my movements delayed as I pull up a chair and sit down. Carefully, I tilt the glass, a not insignificant part of my brain expecting the creature to dart off… but it doesn’t. Ever so slowly, it gets to its feet, tail swishing nervously as its multitude of eyes stay locked on my own.

It chitters, raising up its first set of arms, gesturing impatiently for me to hand it the pen. I comply, placing the pen in their outstretched arms, taking note of just how massive the pen looks in their strange grasp; The being no bigger than the pen itself- if that.

I flip the notepad open to a blank page and place it down in front of them. They awkwardly jostle the pen around, trying to figure out how best to hold it before figuring out a relatively steady grasp- the sight would be comical if it weren’t so bizarre… so real. In a motion almost akin to sweeping, bit by bit shaky letters begin to form.

H…E…L…P

I gasp- eyes wide as I read the word… the English word.

“H-help?” The creature flattens its antennae at the sound of my voice, but nods, “How-” I shake my head, wanting my own answers, “What are you?”

Again, it awkwardly dances with the pen as it answers,

H…U…M…A…N

It stares at the word before it moves, standing on the “HU” portion, and gesturing to the remaining letters.

M… A… N

My skin tingles with the pricking sensation of goosebumps as I read the word over again, mouth agape. A nervous laugh escapes me as the apparent not-so-human human points to the word and back to itself- himself. I grimace.

“I got news for you, buddy.”

The least human looking man I’d ever laid eyes on chitters an aggravated series of clicks as he begins to write again, almost as if muttering to himself.

W…A…N…T

My mind reels trying to figure out what he would need.

L … O…O…K

As he finishes his second word he then points to himself.

My mouth goes dry. Were they really human? Worse yet, if he was … what happened to him?

My voice feels hollow as I speak,

“You want to look…? At yourself??”

He makes a chirping sound, responding with an emphatic nod. An uncomfortable thought crosses my mind, Had he not seen what happened to him? I chew my lip, my thigh bouncing wildly beneath me.

“You know, it would have been faster to write mirror.” I quip, trying to relieve some of the tension I felt boiling under the surface.

He chitters in what I assume to be annoyance, sounding oddly similar to a treed squirrel. I hear the jingle of Honey’s collar as she perks up- clearly all too familiar with that sound.

I shoot Honey a stern look,

“Stay.” Turning back to the little being I add, “That goes for you too,” as I get up to grab my purse from the coat rack. He tosses his hands up in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation.

It’s as though I’m in a daze, my brain on autopilot as I navigate my way around the carnage of the night prior. The newfound context of the incident with the creature twisting a knot in my stomach. It’s- no, his hands raised in a placating gesture between Honey and himself… pleading to me… looking for help. I exhale- my breath coming out shaky. There were still so many questions- and it seemed like he had questions of his own as well.

I return to the kitchen with my purse, finding him sitting down on the countertop, staring blankly at his hands. Upon my approach his antennae perk up, and he stands to meet me. I can’t help but stare. He looks so small. I rummage through the mishmash contents of my purse, pulling out a compact with a mirror. Part of me wants to warn him- but what was I supposed to say? Heads up, you’re fucking horrifying? Surely he would have some understanding about his situation. It’s not like they couldn’t see their own body… Or my reaction to him last night. Without saying a word, I pop the compact open, placing it in front of him.

At the sight of his reflection, he stumbles back- his strange mouth hanging agape. That is, until he catches sight of his mouth- his hands flying up rapidly to cover it from view. For a moment, everything is still. He stands frozen in front of his reflection, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Soft chittering fills trinkles into the silence. In an agonizingly slow motion, his first pair of limbs reaches upwards, while his second remains wrapped around his waist, as if covering himself. His hands move across the hard surface of his face. He grazes clawed fingertips around each eye, hands trembling as they come up to feel the horn like protrusions at his crown.

He drops his hands, gaze falling to stare at them, before returning to his reflection once more. His movements at first slow and timid, increase in speed. He grabs at his face, twisting his head left and right before trembling hands grope at the gaps in his exoskeleton- frantically gripping and tugging at the edges. The groping becomes more violent- almost mauling- as he starts to pull at the edges of his shell as if wanting to rip it from his body. My hand twitches, ready to intervene. He chitters, and his attention gets pulled to his mouthparts. Motions far too violent, he yanks at the insectoid appendages covering his mouth, peeling back the appendages to stare at the horrific expanse of his oral cavity. I flinch at the pained squeak they make as he sees the grotesque sight of his inhuman maw. His chittering grows frantic- pained even.

Hands shaking, he scrapes at the hard shell of his face with clawed fingers, reefing on any gaps in his armor while making a strange shrill sound, like a bird simultaneously whistling and hyperventilating. The sound came forth rapidly and without rhythm, hitching and catching at random intervals as his chest heaved-

Oh.

He was sobbing.

My heart aches at the sight, and without thinking I reach my hand out in an attempt to break him from his panic. He flinches back staring up at me with too many wide wet eyes. I hesitate- hand hovering just before him, my heart wrenching in my chest.

Ever so carefully, I curl my fingers around him. He stiffens, freezing in place. I brush my thumb across his cheek, gently wiping away a trail of tears dripping down the too hard and too smooth surface of his face. He goes rigid under my touch, but doesn't pull away- instead he looks away, turning his head to avoid my gaze.

I will my hand steady as I hook my finger under his chin, softly guiding his face back to meet mine.

"Shh." I hush, "I.. I don't know what's happening, but I'm here to help, okay?"

As I speak, clawed hands grip onto my finger as his tiny form hunches forward, burying his face against my hand. My skin crawls as I feel his second set of arms unfurl, gripping onto my fingers. The sensation of the far too insect-like texture of their shell and two too many limbs against my skin made me wince- both disgusted with the sensation, but more so with myself for having the disgust cross my mind at all.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Almost as if to spite my own thoughts, I wrap my hands around him, in the closest approximation comfort I can think to provide- resenting the way I suppress a cringe as he returns the embrace.

Muffled chirps spill from between my fingers, his body trembling under my touch. My throat constricts- thigh still rapidly bouncing against the chair. What was I supposed to do? How on Earth was I supposed to offer any comfort? I stroke his side with my thumb, ashamed that fidgeting action was more to comfort myself. I told them I would help them… What am I supposed to do? Is there even anything I can do? My heart wrenches. Fucking useless. In my hands I held a pitiful sight, and there was nothing I could do, no words I could say, no solution I could offer.

All I could offer were hands to hold him.

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royalvelvette · 2 months

Text

dance with me, darling

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F, M/M, Multi Relationships: Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Valentino, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Velvette, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Vox, Valentino & Velvette & Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel) Characters: Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Overworking, Overworked Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Autistic Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs a Hug, Husk is Bad At Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Good Significant Other Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Overworked Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Idiots in Love, Dancing, Self-Esteem Issues, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Two Shot Summary:

Local quintet need to slow down and take a break, seventy-year-old cat man says.

Read on Archive of Our Own here.

once again breaking up the originally a one-shot into a two-parter because the setting information got away from me. Second part (the sillies dancing) will post either later tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Part 1 under the cut. Word count: 1753

It was finally quiet in the hotel. Not completely, in the way of well-populated areas, but quieter than it had been since... since.

(Charlie didn’t want to think about since. About red red blood, and missing limbs, and still nearly running out of medicines even after Auntie Belphagor had sent some up expressways, and the amount of dead still in the streets when, normally, the cannibals would have cleared the majority by now.)

It was a quiet she desperately needed; too many nights had been lost to passing cot-to-cot while Val kept everything calm and Vaggie was out in the streets, pulling in even more wounded (there had been so many buried underneath the rubble that remained of the once-bustling weapons district). Vox was usually gone as well – his drones made him invaluable when trying to find anyone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, call out. Velvette helped out where she could – usually upstairs, stitching and restitching wounds when the original stitches inevitably got pulled. She just... needed a moment. A moment alone, to herself, in the quiet, because if it was quiet it meant nobody was hurting. (Charlie was tired of her people hurting).

She slid down the closed door of their bedroom, sighing, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. She just... wanted to rest. Wanted to see Vaggie for longer than twenty minute intervals or however long it took them to fall asleep at night. Wanted to see Velvette stitching new outfits instead of skin, wanted to hear Valentino speak without his voice coming out scratchy and cracking, wanted Vox to be present at the hotel instead of having his eyes in his drones. Want-want-want, what a selfish creature – her people were injured and dying, and here she was wanting things that would keep them from being helped.

... Charlie allowed herself to wallow for a minute more before pushing off the floor. Val needed more water, probably, and it wouldn’t hurt to check in on Velvette and see if she needed any more supplies. Maybe, if there was more quiet time later, she could spend some time with Vox and see if she could spot Vaggie on the feeds.

Husk was only a little annoyed about the fact he had been unceremoniously promoted to hotel manager. He got it, he did – Vaggie was out in the streets every day, the Vees had shit to do, and the princess was trying to help everyone at the same time like she always did, but he didn’t sign up for this shit.

(He didn’t really sign up at all, but, well. Al said jump, he jumped. Even if he didn’t want to.)

It wasn’t supposed to be his job to direct the staff, keep Niffty from causing too many problems, and put out metaphorical fires. He was just a goddamn bartender! His job was keep his bar clean, keep it stocked, and sling booze to order while drinking some himself. Sue him, sometimes he missed being an overlord, but managing the souls under him to keep the casino running smoothly? That wasn’t one of them; and yet, here he was, doing that same thing except with none of the fucking power that came with it.

(And, honest to God, if one more imp got uppity with him about being told to keep the parlour clean so none of the injured chucklefucks got infections, he was going to tear the unlucky bastard’s head off. Something had to be done; preferably before he lost his job.)

Opportunity struck that night, as luck would have it. (Who the fuck was he kidding – luck hadn’t been on his side since the day his soul stopped belonging to him.) But whatever it was, it wound up with Vaggie sitting down at the bar for the first time in two weeks. It was the first time Husk had really been able to get a look at her – at any of them – since everything went down. And Vaggie?

Vaggie looked like shit. Her wings and hair were matted with blood and dirt, the bags under her eyes rivalled his, and she was barely managing to sit upright on her stool – only doing so by leaning against her spear. If the Vees and Charlie were anything like this – and his bets were on yes – it was worse than he thought. Something was going to give, and give soon.

(Alastor would want to know, something in his mind whispered.

Fuck off, Husk thought back. The thought of Alastor anywhere near this place, near these people, made his fur stand on end.)

He pulled some Beelzejuice out from under the counter and got a stein ready. Vaggie still hadn’t said anything, staring blankly past him, but that suited Husk just fine. Getting the drink ready would hopefully let him get his thoughts in order so he didn’t sound like a total jackass.

(There wasn’t really a nice way to say “If the five of you don’t take a break soon, you’re going to end up useless,” but he really wanted to find one. Last thing anybody needed was the fallout from Vaggie trying to stab him when she was too tired to reign in her impulses.)

Vaggie snapped out of her stupor when Husk slid the mug – maybe a bit too full, with how some slopped out – over to her. She nodded her thanks, but didn’t move to pick it up. Husk busied himself with the spill; anything to put the conversation off a little longer. He watched Vaggie out of the corner of his eye as he did; just in case. She seemed fine, and eventually moved to sip at the drink, then chug it down like a woman dying of thirst.

He tossed the soiled rag into the bucket behind the counter before leaning against the back wall. “You got a sec before bed, boss?” he asked.

Vaggie set the mug down a little harder than strictly necessary. “Not really,” she said. “Gotta get an early start tomorrow, y’know, digging people out of the rubble and all.”

Husk’ll give her credit – she kept the unlike you quiet. “About that,” he started. “You... uh, you sure you don’t want to take a break?”

Vaggie snorted. “What, and stand around like you do? No, I have to-”

“I ain’t doing nothing,” Husk snapped, “I’m doing your fucking job since you’re never here. You think I want to be tellin’ imps and sinners what to do? I didn’t sign up for that shit!”

Vaggie’s face twisted into a half-snarl, half-frown. “What, you want a raise? A medal? Newsflash, asshole, we’re all doing shit we didn’t sign up for right now-”

“I don’t need that shit, I just- you guys-”

Vaggie stood up, and even though her eyes were nearly level with the bar, her furious glare made up for it. “Whatever, I’ll – I’ll deal with it, fuck, give you a raise, hire someone else-”

“You ain’t fuckin’ listening to me.” Husk could feel his own temper threading. “I don’t want a raise, I want you to take a break!”

“I can’t!” Vaggie snarled. “If I stop, Charlie’ll-”

Snap. The last of his patience fled with a near audible sound as his legs extended and shoulders widened, wings flaring, yellow iris glowing vibrant against his black sclera. Even still, his voice didn’t rise above a hiss.

“You all need to stop. The five of you aren’t gonna last like this,” he said. “You’re no fucking use if you burn out before you can finish working. And...”

He shrunk back to his normal size, forcibly reigning in his temper. Vaggie was staring at him with wide eye, spear held in a white-knuckled grip – ready to fight or flee, didn’t matter. What mattered was she was silent, and paying attention.

“I’m. Worried about you,” Husk said finally. “You – don’t need to end up like me. You five need to take a break, all of you.”

Christ, but he hoped Niffty was busy upstairs somewhere. Vaggie was still just – staring at him, though the grip she had on her spear had relaxed somewhat.

Then her eye started to water and her face contorted and oh fuck, fuck he wasn’t – he couldn’t handle crying people on a good day. She sniffed once, hard, scrubbed at her eye. Husk held his breath, terrified that one wrong move from him would set her off. He could still only sorta handle Charlie crying, and that was because she cried a lot.

Vaggie took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, voice just this side of wobbly, “okay. I’ll... we’ll take a day off. I’ll make sure of it.”

Husk let some of the tension out of his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “Good.”

Vaggie turned to leave, but then turned back, pointing at him with her spear. “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’ll-”

He waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll write you an apology letter or whatever. Go to sleep, kid.”

Vaggie felt a little bad as she finally slipped into the room she shared with Charlie. The lamp was still on, even though Charlie was fast asleep, book hanging precariously from her fingers. That suited her better than if Charlie had still been awake, but still – she missed her girlfriend, and these moments before sleep claimed them were some of the only ones they had been getting. Hopefully, her plans for tomorrow would make up for it – if Charlie wasn’t angry about them. Vaggie carefully crept closer to the bed, pausing as Keekee lifted her head from her spot against Charlie’s side.

Vaggie raised a finger to her lips.

“Mrrp,” Keekee said, snuggling closer to Charlie but otherwise ignoring her.

Vaggie carefully took Charlie’s book, setting it face down on the end table. Charlie’s phone screen lit up dimly at the motion, then again when Vaggie picked it up. She inputted the password and navigated to the clock app, grimacing at exactly how early the alarm was set for (her own alarm wasn’t much better), before turning it off. Her own was already turned off, and she had done the same to Velvette’s and Valentino’s. Vox’s was a little trickier because of his internal clock, but hopefully – hopefully – he would respect the text she had sent him instead.

Mission done, Vaggie set her girlfriend’s phone back down – this time face down. Charlie was going to be furious when she woke up tomorrow morning, but Husk... was right. They all needed a break – Charlie probably most of all.

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deputyrook · 2 months

Text

Cronos Parasite Engine - 18+

This is an extension of the scene in Rogue Trader where Marazhai gifts RT with a Cronos Parasite Engine. I'm not well versed in Warhammer lore, so I'm sorry if I've messed something up!

Dom!Marazhai x Female Rogue Trader. 18+, it's not super explicit in terms of smut, but I think the warnings speak for themselves.

Warnings: Literal torture, pain play, d/s, ownership, allusions to drug use, cutting, needles, bloodplay, not SSC... basically what you can expect from a fic about using a torture machine on someone? idk honestly, I think I blacked out while writing this.

---

"Is it... alive?" Jordana von Valancius asks carefully. She is watching the multi-limbed monstrosity, clicking and clacking and hovering beside her bed, with equal parts apprehension and curiosity. A Cronos Parasite Engine, Marazhai had called it.

She would have described it as a giant machine insect...thing. Not exactly titillating at a first glance, but on examining it further... she had to admit, it was interesting.

"Oh, yes," Marazhai confirms. A vicious grin cuts across his face. Standing behind her and leaning well into the Rogue Trader's space, he puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes, hard, "Or at least, it was at one point. The haemonculi have made it something else entirely, now. A truly refined instrument of pain. A gift for you."

Her heart thumps wildly, as a mixture between dread and excitement floods her. The anticipation of the pain that this thing could cause her- would cause her sends a shiver down her spine. She takes a careful step toward the beast, Marazhai moving with her.

"It can project your very life essence from you, into me," Marazhai murmurs into her ear, "Do you want that, Jordana? To have not only your pain, but your soul itself, nourish me? To have me taste it?"

Something had happened to her, back in Commorragh. When she'd been remade, she swore some wires had become crossed in her brain. She'd always enjoyed a little pain, that wasn't new. But somewhere in the Dark City, between the scalpels and the needles and the blood and the torture, the begging and the sobbing that had stripped her to the bone-

She'd wanted more. She'd wanted to stay longer.

"Yes," She murmurs, as Marazhai's clawed gauntlets bite into the skin of her shoulder and draw blood. He leans close, licking a strip across the bloody scraped skin, and hums in delight.

"This is going to be so much fun," He says in her ear, before he pulls back and two-handed shoves her toward the machine. She nearly falls into it, stumbling forward.

The head of the machine- if it could be called a head- turns to Jordana in some kind of awareness. The engine is buzzing, nearly crackling with energy, and its antenna twitch in response to her closeness. She swallows the quickly mounting fear, feeling very much the prey to this strange abomination, unsure of what will happen next.

"Do I need to-" She starts to ask. She doesn't get to finish. One of the engine's metal tentacles wraps around her ankle and yanks, pinching her skin and swiping her off her feet. She groans as she hits the ground, hard and disoriented.

Before she has the time to catch her breath, the machine is bearing down on her. Its huge body smokes and crackles, caging her easily against the floor. Here, in her bedchamber without any weapons nearby, this thing could overpower her easily. It could kill her.

Twisted arousal slices through her, as sharp and intense as Marazhai's watchful, predatory gaze. Jordana lets out a shaky, nervous breath, her eyes flicking over to him. He has found himself a chair and is lounging back on it, a lazy, hungry gleam in his stare. He leers and gestures, as if to say, get on with the show.

A second tentacle wraps around her other leg, and a third snakes its way up under her shirt. At every place where the metal touches her skin, she feels a sting, and she can't tell if it's needles, tiny cuts, or both.

Jordana doesn't fight the creature. Even if she did, she knows it would be useless. The easy power with which the parasite engine tears her clothes leaves her no time to protest. It barely leaves her with any time to register what's happening.

One of the tentacles tightens around her thigh, the metal plating cutting deep into her skin, and she hisses in pain. She can feel her blood dripping down toward the floor, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

And then, the machine hums, and its entire body begins to vibrate. And the world around her becomes fuzzy.

It's like someone has reached into her soul and dimmed the lighting. Immediately, she feels tired, lethargic- drugged, almost. Her body feels weak, like even lifting a hand would be difficult. Like anything could be done to her, and she wouldn't be able to stop it if she tried. Her head lolls back, her body sinking into the floor, limp.

The pain in her thigh is no longer a sharp, burning staccato. It is a long, drawn out note. It's a symphony that sings in harmony with her entire body, leaving every inch of her alight. The parasite engine slices into her again, with one of its long pincers, and the sensation of it explodes.

"Oh," she ekes out, half-closing her eyes as the machine attends to her, "Ohhhh, no, nono. Yes, yes. Please." Somewhere distant, she can hear Marazhai laughing. A manic, crazed sound she recognizes well.

She can't concentrate on Marazhai, though. Because fuck, does it hurt. She can't even think. She is distantly aware that she is moving. Spasming, she thinks, or writhing against the floor. Far away, she can hear herself moaning and crying out, unrestrained noises pulled from her lips without her permission.

The background blurs, and everything is slow, hazy. Every cell in her thrums with pain, but even that begins to fade out into a blur. Her body is failing her, crumbling to dust.

She's going to die here. She's really going to die under this thing.

And then, Marazhai touches her. At some point, Jordana is not sure when, the parasite engine has withdrawn, and Marazhai has taken its place looming over her. One of his hands slides up her side, and her eyes snap open as she takes a quick, deep inhale. Life floods back into her body like a shot of adrenaline to her chest.

Pure ecstasy blooms across her skin.

"Can you feel it?" He says, "Your life. Flowing from you, to me. Now back into you. Because I want it to. Do you want it back?" He chuckles, pressing his fingers into one of the wounds in her side. The jolt of pain intertwines with the incoming waves of pleasure, and Jordana cries out, a sound which ends in a needy whine, low in the back of her throat.

"Please," she whimpers, weakly reaching for him. She doesn't even know what she's pleading for, really. He swats away her hand.

"You can beg prettier than that," he chastises, and she grows dizzy with need. Her strength starts to wane again, and she feels herself withering, death drawing nearer and nearing. Her soul is being stretched out like a wire, pulled taught and thin. It's about to snap.

"P-please Marazhai. Please I need- I need you, it's k-killing me," The panic bubbles in her voice, and he seems altogether too pleased by it, "Let me live, let me be worthy of living for you."

He pulls her away from the edge of death again, all the while touching her. His hands are everywhere at once. Pinching, squeezing, caressing. Smearing her blood in streaks across her skin. It's too much, she can't handle it, she's going to break.

Marazhai tsks, but when she opens her eyes, Jordana sees his pupils blown wide with lust. "You always know just what to say, don't you?" He coos, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Let no one say I'm not merciful. You will survive, Jordana. But I will take you to the brink. You will take so much more from me than you think you can handle."

Jordana wants to say, I'm pretty sure I'm at the brink already. But his words electrify her. She could swear his gaze is affectionate when he adds, "You're trembling."

She grips him tight, with the remaining strength she can muster. "Yes," she whispers, terrified of her own impulses, of her own crushing need. Marazhai grins, wild and ferocious, watching her like a cat finally about to kill the prey its been toying with.

He descends on her, pressing his mouth against hers with crushing force as the parasite engine whirs and clicks and buzzes in the background. His kisses are all teeth, biting and drawing blood, tinged with possessiveness. She wouldn't have it any other way.

True to his word, Marazhai brings her to the brink of her soul's obliteration, again and again- edges her with the balance between pain and the ecstasy. Jordana thinks she must be losing her mind. She has no idea how long he's been doing this- stealing her energy, returning it, breaking and mending her body- but any longer and she's going to black out.

Or maybe she's blacked out already. She's not quite sure she can remember when Marazhai started fucking her. She also can't remember when she started crying, though her cheeks are stained with tears and weak sobs slip from her chest.

God Emperor save her, but she never wants it to end.

"Who is it that you belong to?" Marazhai hisses, gripping her chin in as he thrusts into her, rutting like he's the wild beast her retinue thinks he is, "Who is it that you let rule you? Destroy you and remake you?"

"You," Jordana howls, clawing at any pieces of him that she can reach. Marazhai makes a movement toward the parasite engine, and Jordana's vision goes white. She's pretty sure that she screams. Never in her life has she felt an ecstasy like this before. If she was afraid she was going to die from the pain, she's now sure the opposite is true- the pleasure is what's going to end her.

Her orgasm shatters her for what feels like ages, her stolen vitality rushing back through her. It seems to hit her continuously, again and again, an ocean rushing in her ears as her soul knits itself back together. Is it never going to end?

It does, eventually. Marazhai rolls off of her, evidently having reached his own end somewhere in the haze. She looks at him dizzily, and clocks his expression as smug. Well, fair enough.

She's hit with a wave of exhaustion, and crawls up on her bed, lying across the surface. The normal kind of tired, this time. Somewhat surprisingly, Marazhai flops down beside her. They stain her sheets blood red- as usual- and when she looks over at him, he's watching her quietly.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you? As much as I did?" He's searching for confirmation, his voice betraying a rare element of uncertainty. His thumb reaches up to swipe some tears from her cheek, before he pops it into his mouth. Jordana smiles gently and nods.

"Did I ever. I'm shocked no one came barging in here, with how loud I was being," Her voice is rough, stricken from her shouting and sobbing. Really, it's a miracle she didn't lose it altogether. He hums out a laugh, uncertainly dissolving into confidence.

"Oh, I think next time I can get you to scream even louder. You took the pain well, for your first time with a parasite engine. That same torture has broken weaker mon-keigh," He looks pleased. Jordana yawns. Beside the bed, the Cronos Parasite Engine powers down, settling into a rest.

"Next time we'll set aside a whole day," she says, not really joking. "But I don't think I've ever been more spent. I'm about to pass out."

Jordana falls asleep moments later with Marazhai beside her, watching her. Incredibly, she doesn't dream, falling into a truly peaceful slumber.

Even more incredibly, Marazhai eventually falls asleep beside her.

#marazhai aezyrraesh #marazhai #torture #drukhari #whump writing #wh40k rogue trader #rogue trader #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40 000 rogue trader #dead dove do not eat #whump #female rogue trader #von valancius #cronos parasite engine #my writing

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junipershouse · 3 months

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big huge alien sophant species

the secondchildren are a deeply enigmatic species of plasma-based energy creatures. their existence is colonial, and their bodies consist of thousands of different conciousnesses acting as a singular entity. these bodies often exist in a state of energetic flux, but by sharing strong memetic energy, each component of a secondchild can carry memories and experiences for an incredibly long time. for this reason, they're largely seen as functionally immortal. secondchildren are known for their high latent will energy, their advanced useage of will-energy technology, and their incredibly elusive and nonsensical nature. much of the will=energy technology used in my setting was developed by secondchildren.

the e-kuri are an incredibly hardy species living on a massive cold moon. the pressure on this moon is so immense that their carbon outer shell has flakings of pure diamond in it. and because of this, they are known for their incredible strength and speed in lower pressure environments. on-moon, they're grazers feeding off of small creatures which live in little holes, using their long tongues and fanlike limbs to disturb potential prey. societally, they have little interest in astrotravel and largely mind their own business - they're not very social. a long time ago, it was posed that their incredible strength could be used as a sort of biological generator if harnessed, but the morality of this idea was very questionable. their underside is soft and fluffy.

the fleu are an incredibly rare species of deep-sea creatures living under the thick ice ocean of a starless planet. their numbers are in the thousands, and they take an incredibly long time to reach maturity. very little is known about them due to this. any attempts at contact has largely been met with aggression, but its generally agreed on that fleu have complicated and intricate technology, even if the purpose and form of such technology largely remains a mystery.

the large blue form of a secret senmin is actually a sort of external flying lung, their "true body" is the colorful protusion at the top there. the lung is used to float freely through the thick atmosphere of the several large gas giants they call home. they communicate through rapid electric color changing and quivering of the various "limbs" of this body. they're known for being intelligent, curious, and very social, and they've figured out a way to store enough food and energy to traverse small sections of atmosphereless space without use of large ships.

magma lovers live in magma, as their names suggest. their bodies are protected by a thick glass layer over a metallic shell. even less is known about them due to the hostility of their living conditions to other types of life. it's known that they live in some sort of structured society, though.

oo3o and onri-semphimin are similar in that the largest political institutions of both species are ICDCI members, and therefore they're pretty common to see in multi-species living areas. o-s'es are semiaquatic, while oo3os are entirely aquatic, living near the surface. oo3o are a largely asocial species with communities largely just consisting of a few individuals, and they're talented builders. they've developed all sorts of "airwalking" suits to travel onto land and isolate themselves further. meanwhile, o-s'es are very social and live in extremely large colonies. They're adepts at terraforming.

e-bupp are metal worms that live in a sort of puddinglike-texture "oceans" on the same moon that e-kuri originate from. these strange oceans are actually the focus of much of the biodiversity on this moon, and e-bupp have taken on a sort of parental role towards the younger (in species terms) and less technologically adept e-kuri. e-bupp attempted astral travel, but the logistics of it made it more trouble than it was worth.

#speculative biology #sci fi #xenobiology #alien species #worldbuilding #oc #oo3o tag #onri-semphimin tag #sadum tag #hey sorry for the lack of art lately... ive been burnt out a bit due to college #ive been writing about my funny aliens a lot tho. i just havent been drawing #ikd why i decided to draw all these guys cus theyre almost all too big to actually appear in my story :(#the spacecraft where most of the plot takes place is too big for them... fader and a few oo3os are actually the biggest species onboard #so only the ones who actually show up in the story are getting tags... sorry :P #well secondchildren are mentioned regularly but theyre too busy being weird realitybending plasma colonies to actually appear #these descriptions are really barebones btw #i could say a lot more. about oo3o specifically. but ill save that for when i draw one of their airwalker suits ;P

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irregularbillcipher · 7 months

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the idea of bill seeing his first dimensions after burning his home makes me lose my mind honestly. like the third dimension was overwhelming enough, it has to have been-- dimension and color and so much space-- but the shapes he sees, though prisms, are uniform. the culture he finds there is more progressive than his, but not by leaps and bounds. there is a similar implied caste system in place-- they would arrest a cube for discussing the fourth dimension as his dimension would imprison a square ford discussing the third and all that, and the sphere only ever discusses regular solids. to someone who grew up where he did, sure, this is wild! but in the grand scheme of things, the third dimension is a stepping stone. incomprehensible to him at first, but ultimately understandable and disappointingly familiar

but other dimensions? that mythical fourth, fifth, sixth, the ones with apostrophes and dashes and letters in languages he's never seen before?

imagine someone growing up where he did seeing his first organic creature-- squishy and multi-limbed, with so many eyes and digits and so unbelievably irregular, made of so many types of smashed-together, imperfect prisms that he's sure he wouldn't be able to name them all even if the third dimension was where he'd been born and bred

actually feeling sunlight, feeling wind. experiencing weather that isn't regulated-- rain and snow and ash and acid that falls-- or floats, or rises, or comes down all at once like a blanket, because there are so many dimensions with so much weather that does so many things!

art that's unregulated, singing that isn't required by law to supposedly prevent stabbings, houses built any which way and decorated however the hell the inhabitants want-- spaces decked out in patterns and textures and colors that make his eye burn in the best possible way

like the sheer overwhelming culture shock, even with the tiniest things-- even something as small as being in dimensions where meat is eaten-- just gets to me sometimes. obviously this sudden array of experiences, sensations and choices didn't mold him into anything with any real respect for the universe, he wasn't made into a decent person by seeing all these things, but god do i think about what those early years must have been like for a being who was so deprived of any real choice or any complex sensory experiences for his entire mortal life

#there's a fic called a romance of many dimensions and i think about it constantly #giving bill synesthesia that he didn't know how to even begin to describe in a colorless repressive world was such a killer idea #and the segment where he ditches his sphere guide and explores other dimensions has stuck with me so very strongly

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hypnoneghoul · 6 days

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Cosmic Love

WC: 1,3k

Relationship: Swiss & Mountain

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Song Fic, Really Deep Love, Poetic Fic (I hope at least because that was the plan)

“You’re everything, sweetheart,” Swiss says and even though Mountain is asleep, the corners of his lips curl upwards slightly. “You’re everything, darling,” Mountain says and even though Swiss is already grinning, his smile seems to grow and brighten.

Notes: This is kinda special, I took this and made it bigger and better and deeper. Also this is dedicated to @arkeusruin because you don't even know how important your words on friday were. Thank you, you're awesome <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

To Swiss, Mountain is the prettiest creature that has ever been called up from the Pit. A deity, truly.

“You are so beautiful it's hard to believe you’re real sometimes, my love,” Swiss whispers to him, laying on his side and watching, adoring, loving. “Especially in moments like these.”

He is sprawled out in their nest, wrapped in soft sage sheets and bathed in sunlight coming in from the window. His hair is down, the loose amber strands spilling down his shoulder and chest in a way that looks as if Lucifer himself had gently laid each individual silky wave in this perfect composition.

His face is fully relaxed, a thing so rare Swiss' heart hurts whenever he is rewarded with getting to see Mountain like this. His eyelashes kiss his pink-tinged and freckle-adorned cheeks and his plush lips are slightly parted. The multi ghoul could swear it is an invitation to slot his own against them.

His whole lean body lies limply, but not disorderly—long limbs arranged in a careful, yet unconscious, way. It is just asking to be painted, to be preserved. Such beauty can not be wasted.

Swiss would, if he only had the skill. He would never dare to try, would not risk the desecration of portraying Mountain as less than he really is.

“You’re everything, sweetheart,” the multi ghoul says and even though Mountain is asleep, the corners of his lips curl upwards slightly. Knowing, understanding.

Mountain is to be worshiped and that is something Swiss can do. That is something he does, and will never stop. In any way he would desire, Swiss will worship him. Will pray to him for the gift of it.

He smiles softly and sighs. Words come to his mind and while there is not enough in any language known to man or demon to describe the love he has for Mountain, there is one thing that feels close.

And so Swiss starts to sing quietly.

I'd rather take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

He will sing more and he will wish he had more to give, but for now, Mountain sleeps.

And Swiss watches.

Swiss could cry with love when Mountain wakes. He stretches, as if showing off his perfect body first thing in the morning, and there is a deep rumble coming from within him. Content to be waking, ready to face another day with his mate by his side.

The multi ghoul ends the feast for his eyes and moves closer, truly gluing himself to Mountain’s side. He breathes in his scent—the smell of the first days of summer—and a pleased trill leaves his lips, “Good morning, my love.”

The earth ghoul does not reply, only his purring increases in volume. Swiss understands.

He wraps his hands around Mountain and squeezes him as if he could pull him into his own body and keep him there, safe and sound.

“Wanna stay in here for a bit longer?” Swiss asks and his mate nods gently, rubbing his face against the multi ghoul’s chest. He smiles and settles, letting his eyes slip shut again.

It is soft and warm and just perfect and it is one of those moments that the both of them wish could last forever. Mountain stays awake. It is most likely Swiss who dozes off again, but his mate does not mind.

The silence is comfortable around them and the earth ghoul does not feel the need to fill it. When he starts to sing, it is an expression.

I will leave you notes

Under your door

Under the singing moon

Near the place where your feet pass

Hidden in the holes of wintertime

And when you're alone for a moment...

Kiss me

Whenever you want

Mountain could cry with love as he watches Swiss cook. It is nearly like a dance, the way he moves along the counter, grabbing this and that to make a delicious meal for his mate and the rest of their pack. He is purring—most likely unconsciously—content to pour his feelings out into something physical, something to share.

The earth ghoul sits on the edge of the counter as he sips his tea, feasting his eyes on his mate over the rim of his mug. He chirps when Swiss moves closer to him and steps between his legs to press a kiss to his freckled nose. “What’s that for, my heart?”

The multi ghoul does not reply, only his purring increases in volume. Mountain understands.

He sets his tea down before wrapping his hands around Swiss. He squeezes him as if he could pull him into his own body and keep him there, safe and sound.

“Want to take a break from all the cooking?” Mountain asks, but his mate shakes his head gently, rubbing his nose against the earth ghoul’s shoulder. He smiles and nods, letting him go so he can continue.

It is soft and warm and just perfect and it is one of those moments that the both of them wish could last forever. Mountain stays seated on the counter, watching.

The silence is comfortable around them and neither of them feels the need to fill it. Swiss turns on his music quietly, anyway, but Mountain does not mind. When he starts to sing, it is an expression.

You keep me all together

You take me out whenever I'm lettin' down

You got the motions baby

I got a notion maybe I'll stick around

Because, oh

I can never doubt you for too long

I can't see no reason

You're my kinda lover

To Mountain, Swiss is the prettiest creature that has ever been called up from the Pit. A deity, truly.

“You are so beautiful it's hard to believe you’re real sometimes, my heart,” Mountain whispers to him and his chest squeezes painfully as Swiss smiles. “Especially in moments like these.”

His arms are wrapped all around the one he calls his love. He is smiling as they dance. His hair is down and the night-colored locks jump with his movements, as fluid as the rest of him.

His face is glowing, tawny brown skin shimmering in artificial light not holding a candle to his own shine. His smile is so bright that it could resurrect a dead star and it is framed by plush lips simply begging to be kissed swollen. The whole picture is adorned by two molten drops of gold that Mountain would gladly drown and melt himself in.

Swiss’ whole body—muscled, yet soft around the edges—moves smoothly like water, his hips swaying. It is just asking to be painted in his movement, to be preserved. Such beauty can not be wasted.

Mountain would, if he only had the skill. He would never dare to try, would not risk the desecration of portraying Swiss as less than he really is.

“You’re everything, darling,” the earth ghoul says and even though Swiss is already grinning—oh, so widely—his smile seems to grow and brighten even more. Grateful, appreciating.

Swiss is to be begged for his blessings and that is something Mountain can do. That is something he does, and will never stop. For anything he would offer, Mountain will beg and pray. Will worship him.

He smiles softly and sighs. He regrets not being as good with his words as he would wish to be, but those already resonating through the room feel appropriate.

And so Mountain starts to sing quietly.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

He will sing more and he will wish he had more to give, but for now, they dance.

And Mountain watches.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #hypnone writes #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps

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