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daycourtofficial · 28 days

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Laborious anxieties

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!reader

Summary: based on this request - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Author’s note: this is technically a follow-up to A Starfall in Autumn, but could be read as a standalone 🥰 I kinda tore through writing this. I got the request at 7:45 and finished writing at 9:30. Forgive any spelling errors, I have ✨sick brain✨

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, blood loss

The last two weeks of your pregnancy had been a time riddled with anxiety.

You were fine - it was Eris who was unable to stay calm. It felt like a stranger was consuming your mate’s body the way nervousness radiated off of him these days.

And the way he clung to you was very unlike him.

He stepped back from High Lord duties for at least a month, delegating responsibilities amongst his brothers and advisors. He receives a summary of the day’s activities during dinner, and except for a trade agreement his brother signed that was less than advantageous for Autumn, everything was running fine.

Which meant your mate could spend all of his time worrying about you, following you around. He’d gotten so absurd he began having his hounds check you for any abnormalities, doing a ‘daily check’ where they sniffed you to ensure you were okay.

The moment you had told Eris of your pregnancy, his joy was very quickly eclipsed by his very sudden interest in providing you with more security. You had been able to talk him down from the initial twelve guards he wanted trailing you at all times to two guards and at least two of the hounds.

“One hound will stay and defend me, the other one will find you,” you had argued. He relented, but as you got closer and closer to your due date, his attempts at renegotiation were increasing by the day.

You had now agreed to four guards and six hounds with you at all times, unless you were with him.

Between the massive bump on your belly that makes maneuvering around very difficult and the entourage you’d have to take, you opt more often than not to stay in your chambers for most of the day.

One of Autumn’s advisors had suggested the birth be a public spectacle, and Eris grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him out of the room, stating, “you’ll be allowed back in when you’ve recovered from your sudden onset stupidity.”

You were glad, because even laboring privately didn’t keep it from being quite the spectacle. Three high lords were to be in Autumn around the birth: your brother, Rhysand, and Eris’s brother, Lucien.

Lucien offered to be available to you in any way he can be, so you took him up on that offer and begged him to take your mate away for an hour or so every day.

So every day at an hour past noon, Lucien would retrieve Eris, and they would play some sporting game they invented when Lucien was a child. They tried explaining it to you, but it never made any sense to you, so you opted to just let them enjoy themselves.

Today, Eris was running through the halls of the Forest House, cursing himself for putting his chambers so deep inside. The house was more fortified the further in you went, with many foxholes that can take you throughout the court. Now it was just a pain to get back to his mate who was definitely not okay.

His fingers made quick work of ruining his hair, a light sweat coating his skin as he flung open the door, preparing for the worst.

Instead, he found his insufferable brother in law opposite you on the bed playing a card game.

“Hi Er,” you say, lighting up at the sight of him, but quickly going back to the cards in your hand, determination in your features.

Clover, the eldest hound and your personal favorite, currently had her head resting against your bump. Her eyes tracked the room, searching for any movement that could be perceived as a threat. Her tail wagged softly at Eris’s entrance, but she remained fixed, guarding your unborn babe.

“Hi Er,” Rhys offers, not glancing up from his cards, “did you run here or do you get winded from these elaborate halls?”

Eris straightens his vest, closing the door behind him as he walks further into the room. “Someone was sending some very distressed signals down the bond.”

He keeps his eyes on you as your face softens, “oops, I was so focused on our game, I didn’t mean to. It’s just not fair because he cheats!”

“I have done no such thing! How dare you accuse a high lord of such a crime?”

You stick your tongue out at him, which he immediately returns. Eris rolls his eyes, well aware of how being around your brother turns the two of you into children. He heads into your private chambers, heading towards the bathroom to bathe.

After bathing and putting on fresh clothes, Eris is about to head back to the two of you, when he hears your soft voice whisper through the door, “I miss mother.”

He’s sure you’re curled up into Rhysand, peering into the violet eyes you both inherited from her. He turns back into the chambers, allowing the two of you to share your grief. As he retreats he does hear, “but I’ll have Eris’s mother. She’s not, y’know, but she’s great. If I can’t have mother, she’s a great stand-in.”

He smiles to himself, finding the book on his bedside table, and settling into the couch, letting the two of you have your privacy.

Rhys travels between Autumn and Night every morning and every afternoon, keeping you company during the morning as you become more and more confined to your bedchambers.

You weren’t technically ordered for bedrest, but moving about was incredibly taxing for you, especially when trying to wrangle the large entourage Eris insisted on.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rhysand happened to be with you when your water broke.

Eris was at court settling a dispute between his idiotic advisors that they insisted required his input when Rhysand’s claws tapped his mind. Upon allowing him entry, he hears Rhysand’s voice trickle in.

It’s time.

Your contractions began, slow and unhurried, the cramping abismal. The contractions came quicker and quicker, time between shortening until your nursemaid tells you to start pushing.

You cry out as you do so, an intense pain coming from your pelvis. They tell you to stop, as they check to ensure your dilated enough to continue.

They motion for you to continue, but the pain only gets worse.

“She’s tearing dramatically,” one of the nurses says.

“What does that mean?” Rhys asks, holding your hand.

“Her circulation’s poor, likely because of the bedrest. She’s losing a lot of blood from these tears.”

Eris felt the primal rage of the mating bond heating his blood. They were talking about his mate in such a sterile, clinical way. Eris bared his teeth at them, but they did not back down, they would not back down, even to the commanding presence of multiple high lords.

“I need the two of you to leave, now. I need to focus, and I can’t do that with two high lords breathing down my neck.”

“Everyone here has her best interest at heart - I promise you, high lords, we will do our best for her,” another nursemaid says.

Eris’s eyes are fixed on your pale face, drained of any color. He doesn’t feel Rhys’s arm wrap around him, dragging him out of the room, nor does he feel the wall Rhys presses him against, giving him something to support his weight.

He can’t let that be the last memory he has of your face.

Lucien is in the hall, and Rhys is updating him on how much blood you loss. “Can’t Feyre’s blood heal? Can she come help?”

Eris snaps his eyes up to Rhysand, whose eyes have a vaguely glossy look to them.

“Please, Rhys.”

Eris did not beg. He accepted the hands he was dealt. He did not plead with his father, as the whip would strike his back. He did not plead with the Mother when he had to chase Lucien into Spring. He did not plead with the Cauldron or the stars asking for help.

But he would ask Rhysand.

“She’s on her way, she just has to get someone to care for Nyx.”

“Hel, she can bring Nyx and I can care for him,” Eris offered, reaching out to hold tightly onto that golden string connecting the two of you.

Rhys’s eyebrows raise, but Lucien cuts in, “brother, you are in no state to watch over a young child.”

“Since when have you had any experience with young children?”

Lucien balks, “the children of Spring were quite fond of me.”

Eris smirks, “pity the children of the court you preside over do not feel the same.”

Lucien is about to bite back when Rhys comes back to them.

“Okay, she’ll be here any minute now.”

Eris hated to do it, tampering with the wards of the Forest House to allow any member of your family entry in the past month.

Never has he been so grateful he did something he so staunchly opposed when Feyre appeared in front of them, a cooing Nyx in her arms that she quickly hands off to Lucien. She briefly lets her hand touch Rhys’s shoulder as she nods to Eris before running into the room.

Lucien holds Nyx, the young toddler providing amusement to the three high lords.

“Do you have a name?” Rhys asks, trying to distract Eris from the nervous meltdown he understood all too well.

“For a girl, we like Hestia Seline.”

Rhys’s eyes snap up, but Eris continues.

“Some ancient humans believed in multiple gods, one of which was the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. And Seline for..”

He gestures towards Rhys, letting his sentence finish there.

“You would allow a Vanserra to be named after my mother?”

Eris nods, “if she insisted,” a finger was pointed to the door you lay behind, in what condition Eris had no idea, “I’d let her name a Vanserra ‘Rhys Azriel Vanserra.”

Rhys grins, “but not Cassian?”

“We all must draw lines somewhere, Rhysand.”

Lucien hoists Nyx up into the air, his little wings fluttering, and Eris watches.

“I helped raise all of my brothers,” he states to no one in particular. “It would have been utter carnage if they had wings.”

“And Cassian only makes it worse.”

“Color me surprised. Don’t allow him home alone with Nyx, I’m sure he’ll throw him from your tallest balconies.”

Rhysand breathes through his nose, and Eris knows there’s a great possibility it is something that has already happened.

“What if it’s a boy?” Rhys asks, “you have Hestia Seline.”

“Jasper Camden.”

“Didn’t want another Beron around?” Lucien asks, pushing Nyx into the air on one arm.

“The day I give a child that name is the day I have been possessed.”

The conversation was helping distract Eris, but he kept a tight hold on the bond, ensuring you felt him no matter what.

Eris feels intense pain through the bond, and without thinking, he shoots up off the ground, and opens the door, promptly running into one of the nursemaids.

“High lord, she’s pushing again. The tears were healed, and she’s doing much better. I was just about to get you.”

He comes over to you, holding one of your hands. Feyre was tightly holding your other, holding a damp cloth to your forehead.

“Hello, my love.”

Eris isn’t sure when he started crying, but he knew he was when you smiled back at him, color back to your beautiful face.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire now- ah!”

You breathe out slowly, and Feyre begins whispering words of encouragement to you.

“But my dear, you love the sun too much.”

You nod as you push, and the nurse tells you you can stop for a moment. You catch your breath, looking towards your mate.

“But I would have really cool fangs. I could taste your blood.”

He strokes the back of your hand, kissing your palm. “Anything you want, my love.”

Your labor continued, much faster now as you held onto Feyre and Eris’s hands, frequently apologizing if you break any fingers.

Eris never got to be around for this part. He was always kept in front of closed doors, anxiously waiting for his next brother, uncertain as to his mother’s state. His anxiety reprieved only hours after the actual labor, when he was allowed to visit his mother and new brother.

Now he was here, the bond thrumming between you two, as he got to hear the first cries of his babe. You almost fall back in exhaustion as your babe slides out, but Eris slides behind you, allowing you to rest against his chest.

He holds your sweaty face in his hands, hair damp, kissing your forehead, telling you how proud of you he was and how incredible you were.

The two of you listen to your babe’s cries as the nursemaid brings the babe to you, placing them on your chest.

Every exhalation is accompanied by a wailing too large for the small body as they breathe air into their lungs for the first time.

Eris places a hand on the babe’s back, hoping they’ll remember his touch from the womb. The babe was covered in birth, but Eris didn’t care. He knew being around for this part was a privilege he had never been afforded before.

He kisses your head again, as the nursemaid smiles at the two of you.

“It’s a girl.”

#acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 month

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Good news. Did some decent progress on What’s Up Danger so you guys will finally get fed this Wednesday! Bad news, the quality might not be the best since I’m fasting while writing it oTL

Anyways, here are some Batfam w/ Cat Villain! Reader moments/snippets.

TW YANDERE AND MENTION OF NONCON/SOMNO

Both Jason and Reader’s first words to each other were, “What the fuck.”

Reader referring to Jason being a giant, and violent asf esp in comparison to Dick. While Jason was confused at his heart beating so fast and mildly crushing on you while you were fighting.

Bonus points: You guys did the spiderman point meme.

You have the biggest age gap with Dick. I headcannon the boys to be close in age so there wouldn’t be any not so good implications when it comes to relationships, but it’s almost unavoidable unless Batman switches sidekicks every year or so. (You are younger than Jason but older than Tim)

But that is also another reason why you two didn’t click as well as you did with Jason

You’d often make jokes or use slang and Dick would just be “???” He tried his best though.

On the reverse side of things, and like I mention before Tim and you got along too well as friends. He’s one of the few people you could gush to about literally any fandom and he somehow (through stalking your searches and literally every gadget/appliance you owned) knew everything about it already.

You two have written several theses on fellow vigilantes and villains (mostly ‘dumb’ ones like who has the best cake based on so and so criteria)

Damian is the best when it comes to bantering with you mid-fight. It’s the combined years of sass and assassin training. Went from plain insults to whole ass (not so) subtly being horny when you beat each other down.

He’s also the worst (best?) when it comes to your nicknames. He insists that you two use it on each other. Some exclusive while others he’s usually fine hearing from other mouths.

There was one point in time where you were called Kitten while the boys forced/bribed you to call them Daddy

Tim and Jason have tattoos of you/related to you.

For Jason it’s your name with a few paw prints, and for Tim it’s when he first fought you (and got his ass whooped)

After Jason came back and revealed himself to you, he tattooed the scratch marks you left him on his back after doing the deed.

Damian secretly practices doing henna so he can draw on you during your “wedding” since he doesn’t want anyone touching you. Sort of defeats the purpose, but go off king.

Being the thorough guy he is, he uses lab equipment to make his own blends.

Bruce? Bruce hates your ass. Sometimes it’s in a hatefuckey way but most of the time he blames you for corrupting his kids.

So he corrupted you in turn.

I feel like he gets off to cucking them honestly (blame that one comic) but if Reader is AFAB I wouldn’t be surprised if he impregnated them.

He’s a softie at heart when it comes to you though, courtesy of your similarities with Selina.

Speaking of, Talia adores you.

Like if there was anyone she would want with her son it was you.

She thinks the fact that you haven’t been put behind bars is a testament to your skill, and after getting over your similarity to her “rival in love” she would actively get you to be with her son.

Eventually she realizes she loves you more than Bruce and well, that’s a story for another fic.

You have at least a dozen trackers on you at all times.

Most of them you’ve ingested and pooped out.

It’s mostly Tim of course. But the duty of actually feeding you that stuff usually goes to Dick.

Dick has uh- somnophillia’ed you a fair bit after the break up.

He really, and I mean really likes to watch you sleep.

It reminds him of those ‘catnaps’ you’d take while watching over the Titans.

There would be times where he’d just be in a daze/in autopilot for hours reminiscing about your past together

His favorite memories to go back to were your first fight together, first kiss, and times under the sheets, and a date you guys had before in a festival/circus.

He never takes the antidote for Poison Ivy’s sex pollen and always comes to you for it, regardless of his or your relationship status.

Tim has at least a million typewritten chats with AI you, and around a few hundred hours of voice chats.

You did eventually take his virginity.

He came as soon as he was inside you/you were inside him.

You have been offered to be a part of the bat crew or a vigilante. But,

you massacred many after Jason’s supposed death and feel too guilty to call yourself anything other than a villain.

Chokers with bells. It’s a popular gift to give you. Especially ones that are custom made with expensive ass materials and engraving.

Sometimes Tim just gives you weapons.

Alfred is your best source of blackmail material.

You’ve actively tried cursing him (with immortality). You love the man.

He’s secretly the president of your official fanclub/fansite but you didn’t hear that from me.

You fight a lot with Damian’s pets. Like in a way that you turn into a literal cat and hiss at them.

And last but not least, you’re vv close with every member of the Teen Titans (besties with Rachel and Garfield)

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

@sophiethewitch1

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 months

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Hi!! Absolutely love your work!!

Do you think you could possibly do one where the reader just had a bad day and comes how to a busy driver. She doesn’t want to interrupt whatever they’re doing, so she goes and turns on her like comfort movie (mines Winnie the Pooh) and the driver hears the like opening lines or something and goes like “oh crap!” And drops everything to go cuddle with reader?

Can be anyone!! Totally open to your interpretation, totally open for pure fluff or angst 🫶🏻🫶🏻

You Don't Have To Say A Thing - OP81

We haven't done an Oscar fic in a while and I feel like he is the exact type to know this detail about his girlfriend so letsss goo. This is also the cutest, sweetest most cuddly, warming request ever. However, I think the choice of movie I'm going with isn't going to be as endearingly cute as yours.

Oscar had an amazing rookie season, so training for his second season he was really focused on it. This season he doesn't have an excuse of being a rookie and with his form being so impressive as a rookie that means he has to really excel and prove that he's got what it takes to challenge for podiums and wins this season. If the car is up to it, maybe he could even push for the championship fight.

He's made sure he's been making time for y/n throughout his intensive training. Though unlike his teammate and other drivers, he's really made no effort to be active or sharing his training online.

But some days he's gone before she wakes up and since she has a life she also makes the effort to occupy herself when he's busy.

Today he's spending time on the sim and has locked himself away, of course making sure that his girlfriend isn't going to be just be in the house.

What started off as an innocent meal with her sister and mum ended up being a hostile attack on her and Oscar's lack of progress in their relationship. Her mum is completely fine with them remaining as simply boyfriend and girlfriend but her sister seemed to decide she should her to dictate her sister's life.

The two have clashed throughout their whole lives. Some sisters have that beautiful sisterly bond that is just irreplaceable. Y/n and y/s/n don't have that.

So she ends up leaving, going home and trying to figure out the best way to make herself feel better. She has a few options.

Option 1: Kick the door down and curl up on Oscar's lap while he silently consoles her

Option 2: Change into a outfit that makes her look like a slob and watch her favourite movie with all her favourite snacks.

Option 1 isn't exactly an option but more of a preference if she was allowed to choose. She knows not to interrupt his time on the sim. So she picks up her favour snacks and sets them up before changing into some baggy clothes that certainly make her look more like a blob on the sofa.

Her hood is pulled up and her knees are tucked to her chest as she searches through which streaming service has the movie she's looking for and when she finally finds it. The emotional feeling is like a warm hug.

Just as the first scene of Shrek 2 starts she hears the scuffle of the door on the carpet and the squeak of hinges before she turns when he moves around.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Oscar frowns since he is familiar with her set up.

"No. I did this so I wouldn't disturb you. Go practice." Y/n mumbles feeling guilty since she can handle her bad days, even if he makes them infinitely better.

"I've hardly seen you all day, I miss you and you're clearly upset. You never watch Shrek 2 unless you need a pick me up." Oscar frowns as he sits down beside her, grabbing her ankles and pulling her till her things are over his lap as she pauses the movie knowing he's intending to have a conversation. "What's happening?"

"My sister."

"You didn't tell me you were seeing her today." Oscar sighs since he knows of the trouble that comes with y/n seeing her sister at any point. Usually he likes to be there because y/s/n tends to bite her tongue with his presence. "What did she say?"

"It doesn't matter what she said." Y/n shrugs before earning a look from the young man. "She was saying that we've been dating long enough that we should apparently be engaged and if you loved me then that would be the case. As if we're not super young and have plenty of time with whatever we choose to do."

"Do you want to get engaged?"

"No!-I mean yes-one day. But not...now...I don't think." Y/n rambles then frowning. "This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"I love you."

"And that's all that matter." Y/n smiles before she finally shifts forward kissing him. "Because I love you too."

"Good. Now, press play again. We're going to watch Shrek 2 and I'm going to feed you all the snacks." Oscar smiles while leaning forward to grab the gummy sweets since she does love them. "Open up and don't bite me like you did last time. Having to explain the marks is not all that fun."

Y/n has to fight a grin to open her mouth as he places one of the sweets on her tongue.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbles while chewing then kissing his cheek while he smiles at her.

"Next time tell me you're going to see your sister. She doesn't run her mouth." Oscar grumbles while she smiles.

It's not often that Oscar would ever vocalise his protectiveness. He'd never say anything to y/s/n about her outrageous statements but he isn't so shy or silent about voicing that he doesn't appreciate any caused upset for his girlfriend.

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edenfenixblogs · 2 months

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Some Excerpts As I Read

Reader Note: I have read The Color Purple and would never dismiss the importance of Alice Walker’s work. However, let’s not pretend that she’s too sacred to critique and treat like any other artist who does something racist. Her work to combat anti-black racism and highlight Black American struggles do not permit or excuse when she engages in other forms of bigotry.

I have never seen someone make a public stink about the extraordinarily racist poem, of which the section quoted above is only the tip of that particular racist iceberg.

In fact, I did not even know that Walker had written this horrible “poem” (if you can call an antisemitic diatribe with weird spacing a poem) —despite being very active in leftist spaces for my whole adult AND adolescent life and being an avid reader or both novels and poetry until 2023.

It was brought to my attention when she caught flak for being a TERF, as an incidental aside to prove that she was actually bigoted in several ways. A trait she ALSO shares with JK Rowling.

Look at these headlines. This is what comes up when I search “Alice walker transphobia.” They clearly label her as a TERF. But they do not make the same claim about her identity as BEING an antisemite. It is removed from her. Antisemitism is clearly not the focus here, which is fine. It is older news. These stories are reporting on her more recent bigotry. Cool.

These are the first results that come up when I search “alice walker antisemitism.”

The first result is from The Times of Israel, which makes sense, because that’s a place where a lot of Jews live and a lot of Jews will be upset by the things she wrote. But it also doesn’t make sense, because Walker is American. Why is the FIRST result about her antisemitism from an international newspaper that happens to have a large Jewish readership?

Why is the NYT headline about how Walker feels about her own bigotry, instead of how her Jewish readers feel?

The New York Magazine Article looked interesting so I clicked it. It was interesting. You should read it. It is an Op-Ed written by a Black, Jewish woman named Nylah Burton. Kudos to her. It was important. And non-Jews need to read it. It was written in 2018.

The Atlantic is next and primarily takes on the work of critiquing a different article in the New Yorker which also minimized the importance and harmful impact of antisemitism.

And then things get interesting. Still, on the first page of results, is this juxtaposition.

Among the many striking things here is the fact that the Jerusalem Post is writing from 2023. Al Jazeera is writing from 2019.

If you’ve read any of the above links or text you will note that yes, Alice Walker’s “offense” is indeed antisemitism. It’s not really debatable. She’s done many, many horrifically antisemitic things.

And yet, Al Jazeera jumps in, unprompted, to defend a known antisemite? Why?????? Oh, because she supports Palestine.

Well…perhaps…just maybe…supporters of Palestine shouldn’t want to leap to the defense of antisemites who spout blatant misinformation about the I/P conflict, demonize the Jews they know personally, and trade in antisemitic conspiracy theories.

Unless of course…they don’t care that they are pushing pro-Palestine Jews out of leftist spaces in the first place.

When did it become acceptable for leftists to excuse someone’s bigotry as long as the bigot agrees with you on other stuff?

#Jews Don’t Count #David Baddiel #the Jewish experience #jumblr #antiracism #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #Alice Walker #anti racism #I dare a goy to reblog this challenge

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alienpossession · 1 year

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So I recently connected with some other authors here and read some alien-based stories that inspired me. This is a one-off from a series called Check-Up by @fullfriendnerdpurse hopefully I do your series justice

Check Up: Eric

A young and nerdy scientist worked on side by side to let powerful men around his own proximity and even the whole world fell victim to the control of a crash-landed small batch of extraterrestrial civilization. His lustful desire to the idea of having the apex of human civilization succumbed to the control of him and his invader buddies blinded him. He's sick and tired with the way society treated him and constantly paid attention to the type of men that pushed people around with their powerful influencer or their good looks and muscle. One of them is named Eric

The alien shoved into him clearly enjoyed the otherworldly senses it instantly felt upon controlling Eric's muscle tank body. The testosterone that coursed through his physical system, the complexity of his muscle and organ that far exceeded the complexity of the slimy being, the way his whole body emitted this powerful aroma and pheromone, the alien just knows it acquired a very fine specimen in human standard

A gym junkie with a day job as premium real estate agent, Eric is also a fine stepping stones to access an even richer and more douchebag section of the society. He's been proven useful as he managed to work alongside the nerd to acquire more bodies for the alien as he lured in the interested property buyer into the property where the nerd already waited with a scoop of slimy alien ready to be shoved up into these rich people's orifices

The alien inside Eric also love to tap into Eric's hidden submissiveness. While the real Eric might not be too keen to tap into his more vulnerable side, the alien love to exploit it because Eric's body just responded to it very well with the hardening cock that leaked pre which the alien always enjoyed to experience. So sometimes, after a day where he helped the nerd acquire another bodies, the alien would make Eric said things like

"Look at you buff dumb bull. After fucking up your own marriage to serve small puddle of slime, now you fucked up another family! Because of you, the 27th richest man in America and his 31 years old son controlled by alien now and you are fucking hard because of it! You stupid little slut, a body so big but there's nothing inside of it,"

The alien also remain amazed with its vessel's physique even after months living as him. Either through his social media activity that the nerd watched or when they have video call, it is one of the vessel that is having the most fun utilizing its vessel as it makes Eric more on the playful side rather than arrogant.

During his latest check-up after the video call from the previous week, he welcomed the nerd while doing workout in his garage. He's shirtless and only using a pretty colorful socks (something the alien also love to add to Eric's monochromatic attire set) paired with a tight compression that hid nothing to the imagination.

After doing some more rep of his workout while updating the nerd with info about his activity for the past 1 month, they walked in and the nerd then watched him cleaned up after himself for the check up. He skipped showering for most of the time unless he really need to such as meeting prospective buyer, so the idea of clean up is simply him changing clothes.

Being the playful slime that it is, it started teasing the nerdy scientist as Eric suddenly started jiggling his own ass in the tight short shorts and folded himself to present his ass to the nerd with its vial

"Please, it's been a while. I'll shoot my load if you just pressed that tip in, nerd. Just do it,"

The nerd just smirked, the perks of being the number one ally for a cooperative alien civilization really becomes the number one reason why he's constantly in search for more vessel to acquire, and with the way that the slime multiplies, it seems like there's no stopping soon

#alien possession #male possession #alien expansion #check up

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rinstrumental · 8 months

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ellie gf headcanons pt. 2

# i’m a headcanon machine i cant be stopped… also she is literally a cheesy ass lose girlfriend this part is actually canon confirmed by naughty dog. modern au

if your native language isn’t english/speak any language other than english she is going to think you’re ten times cooler than you already are. best believe she’s hopping on duolingo first thing she gets home too so she can impress you (i know duolingo isn’t the best but she’s TRYING)

she took spanish in high school though

even though she can’t retain the info for shit she will search up terms of endearment in your language and call you them all the time even if you think its corny she can’t stop

whenever someone asks her what her type is she just says “my girl” with the most stupid grin on her face

she fidgets SO much omg she doesn’t wear rings often but when she does (you said they looked nice one time and all of a sudden she’s wearing rings every time you see her) she’s constantly playing with them. she also plays with the strings of her hoodie/loose threads etc.

*playing basketball* “this one’s for you babe” *completely misses*

such a nerd for collectibles!! has been since she was a kid. she has funko pops, vinyls, pokemon cards, snowglobes, plushies, smiskis, calico critters she’s a slave to capitalism

little social media presence. her only instagram account is basically a photo dump which is private with only her closest friends following it. (spoiler alert, most of the pictures are of the two of you)

in the last post i said she’s have a pet gecko but i also strongly believe joel would have a dog. could be a teeny tiny chihuahua or a fucking great dane idk just give my man a good friend! ellie also loves that dog (whatever it is) dearly

doesn’t have any piercings and doesn’t ever consider it unless you say that they’d look good on her… your word is her law FR 😭😭😂😂

okay no she’s not dependent on you to the point of it being toxic though. HOWEVER it’s a bit hard for her to express when she feels upset sometimes and gets jealous easily but she tries her best to communicate and keep it healthy

she has her tattoos though of course. although this is a modern au so she’d have different ones i guess… forearm one is definitely in the cards but also lots of tiny little ones. a few for her friends and family and a few she got in a drunken stupor

pottery lesbian that’s it

gets SOOO red when she’s drunk i dont care what anyone says her alcohol tolerance is average at best

i think she would play a sport sometimes. like volleyball. she plays competitively if she’s in school and she always wants you to come “watch your girlfriend be cool”. bring a sign - she’ll love it

kisses and hugs u after the game while she’s all sweaty too…ew but aw

she also really likes animated movies, not disney but like how to train your dragon and the spiderverse and puss in boots (im projecting). she went to see barbie and oppenheimer on the same day and she didn’t dress up but the spirit was there!!

she’s not a gymbro per se but joel probably would have workout equipment in the basement which ellie uses from time to time. and she’s just naturally lean because she’s an active person. pls tell her how big and strong and sexy and amazing she is

ok fine i think she likes being praised AND SHE DESERVES ITT like she’s such a wonderful girlfriend ❤️ ugh shes perfect I CANT STAND HER

goodnight and good morning texts are part of her routine

sunburns easily so you have to remind her to wear sunscreen all the time

doesn’t really know how to do makeup but she’ll paint your nails for you and do your hair

whenever the two of you spend the night together she’s usually last to get up. this bitch could sleep through the rapture i’m not kidding but it’s okay because it gives you time to admire her pretty face as she sleeps in peace and quiet for once

takes the aux very seriously you guys HAVE to share it. unless you like the same music and i think she would like radiohead, joy division, deftones and loser sad songs like that…. she also is a big fan of the spiderverse soundtrack and kendrick lamar though and thee stallion 😜 (i have two wolves inside me)

please reblog mwah thank you!!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie fluff #tlou fic #tlou x reader #tlou ellie #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie headcanons

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where-dreamers-go · 1 year

Text

"Halloween Mission" Connor x Reader

(Imagine: Connor searching for you when your phone's battery dies.)

(A/N: This got out of hand and is basically an insert reader. Guess this is my first one with rk800!

Warnings: none. Unless you count a mild reference to Assassin's Creed.

Word Count: ?? I'm on my phone.)

~~~

Of all nights, it was Halloween.

People were trick or treating, going to parties, working late shifts, causing mischief, eating candy, and a list of over fifty activities.

Connor had thought of them all and more unsavory ones. He had hoped that this year would be calm in the city. A big hope, but his nonetheless.

Deviancy tended to do that. Emotions.

Along with deviancy came new experiences and friendships. You were both of those surprises for Connor.

A friendship that may have started oddly, however neither of you would trade a second of it. Connor valued you as a friend. He cared. He could talk to you about anything. He trusted you.

Halloween night he worried.

Already knowing you were joining other friends to an event, Connor didn't want to interrupt your fun. Yet, you sent him photos throughout the night nonetheless. That wasn't the problem.

The issue arose when his texts were left unread. A promise of another set of photos was left empty. Your voicemail being the only reply Connor could receive.

He waited fifteen minutes. After that he checked to see your location via your phone. Nothing. No update.

Thirty minutes later, Connor was passing the third long line of guests as they waited to board an attraction.

In his life, he had not scanned so many faces in such a short amount of time.

Connor needed to find you. In a place that crowded, there was no telling what could have happened to you.

Hopefully nothing, Connor thought. This could be a sign of overreacting. He shouldered passed a group of people dressed as hooded assassins.

"Need help, man?" One of them asked.

"No, no, no." Another said with a grin and then said dramatically, "he's on a mission. He's got a contract."

The friend bumped the other and rolled their eyes.

Connor decided to amuse them. To add to their fun target than load them with his worry. Smirking, Connor backed away saying, "I always accomplish my mission."

Leaving the excited chatter behind him was one of his many steps. The event space was large. It was a challenge he didn't hesitate to take.

He eyed an enthusiastic crowd in front of a live band and hesitated.

They said they were thinking of skipping--

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice. Connor turned around.

"Connor!" You called out in surprise and relief.

The android ran up to you without delay. "Are you alright? You didn't answer your phone and your location was offline--"

"The battery died."

"What?" He looked bewildered.

"I had it charged, but that new app sucked it up." You grabbed his hand, cool to the touch. "I'm sorry. I'm fine though. A little cold maybe, but I'm glad to see you."

Connor gave your hand a light squeeze.

"Did you... I freaked you out, didn't I?" You asked, frowning. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I....admittedly thought the worst." Connor sighed. "You said how your friends were going on a ride without you and I wasn't.... comfortable with the idea of you being alone. Here."

"But you're here now."

He nodded. Sheepish in your presence. A little too aware of how you still held his hand.

"We can't waste your ticket, right?" You smiled, hopeful.

"Right." Connor matched your smile. "Where would you like to go?"

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#dbh connor #dbh connor imagine #connor rk800 #Connor imagines #detroit become human #where dreamers go #imagines #Halloween imagines #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #Connor x Reader #dbh Connor drabble

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nocreativityfornames · 5 months

Text

The Brothers Reacting to Teen!MC Getting ( Not Seriously ) Hurt

Lucifer

The moment he sees the kid bleeding he's panicking.

Makes them sit down with him while he cleans the cuts.

It doesn't matter that it's just some scratches they got from falling, he's lecturing them about it because something much worse could've happened and you need to be careful, and blah-blah-blah.

It's typical concerned dad behavior. No surprises there.

Becomes even more protective of them, and has a serious talk with his brothers about watching out for MC whenever they're engaging in any potentially dangerous activities.

Will scold the others for even the slightest bruise that shows up on their skin, even Diavolo is not safe.

Again, concerned dad behavior.

Mammon & Leviathan

MC and Levi were in the kitchen chatting while making dinner for everyone when he picked up on the scent of their blood.

He turns around to see their finger bleeding ( they accidentally cut themselves while chopping the vegetables ), and immediately he's freaking out.

OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK, MC'S BLEEDING, THE KID'S BLEEDING--

"W-Wait here, I'm going to get someone!"

The poor kid doesn't even has the chance to argue because he's out of the room as soon as he finishes those words.

...

It only takes a moment till both Levi and Mammon come storming in, the older brother in his demon form, searching for the human in worry. "Oi brat, are you alri--"

It's just a tiny cut on their finger 😶

The relief in his face is IMMENSE, because apparently Levi forgot to mention how MC got hurt and just ran to him saying they were bleeding.

Mammon smacks Levi on the back of the head for not specifying anything and worrying the shit out of him.

Puts a bandage on their finger while Levi stands there feeling embarrassed for making a huge deal out of nothing.

In his defense, MC is both a human AND a kid, which makes him automatically think they'll die from even the smallest wound.

Plus he has anxiety, okay? It robs him of thinking rationally in situations like this.

They'll all laugh about this later when they remember it, don't worry.

Satan

Honestly? The best one out of the bunch to go to if you get hurt. Because unlike the others he knows a thing or two about human injuries, thanks to his fascination for medicine and reading books on it.

So he wouldn't be panicking unless MC got seriously seriously hurt.

Still though, they won't escape his scolding. He can't help it, he feels responsible for their safety since they're the closest thing he has to a younger sibling ( being born last, it's hard for him to actually see himself as an older brother to any of the others, even if he is considered the fourth oldest ).

Satan's lectures are nothing unbearable though, so it's fine. MC will take his light scolding over some of the others freaking out any day.

If they ask nicely, he'll keep what happened a secret from his brothers. As long as they're more careful in the future...

Belphegor & Asmodeus

Asmo is a already scandalous person in normal situations, so you can imagine his reaction to MC getting hurt wouldn't be the most subtle.

No no, he's very much freaking out as he rushes over and grabs their face.

"Calm down, Asmo. They're fine, their nose is just bleeding a little." The younger one says as if he wasn't totally concerned too.

You'd think not, considering how he seems more annoyed than anything, but the thing is, he just hides it well.

"Are you sure that you're okay, sweetie?" Asmo asks again as Belphie holds a handkerchief to the teen's nose, hoping to stop the bleeding.

MC assures them that they're fine, and they seem more at ease.

"You dumbass, how could you not notice that there was a whole wall in front of you?" His tone is scolding but there's relief in it.

Asmo exchanges a look with the kid and giggles, which in turn brings MC to giggle too.

Beelzebub

He was playing Fangal with his team when he heard a commotion on the other side of the gymnasium and noticed MC was on the floor.

Immediately enters overprotective mode and dismisses the game, quickly muttering for someone to take his place.

"Oh, Beel's here." One of MC's classmates announces, making the teen shoot their eyes up. They seem both relieved and embarrassed to see him.

Apparently they were running during P.E. class and had taken a fall, spraining their foot.

Beel carefully picks MC up in his arms. "I'll take them to the infirmary room." And after a nod from the teacher he leaves.

If they apologize for interrupting his game he'll just let out a low groan, which for a second makes them think that he's annoyed at them.

"My family is way more important than some game I need to win."

He stays with them in the infirmary the entire time they're there, and brings them some snacks and a drink while he's at it.

Pats their head when he notices them looking guilty. "Don't worry, they can win without me."

#look who's back answering requests wowowow #forgive me for the delay 🙏#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me teen mc #asks and requests ～⁠♡#teen mc being a menace ☘#☙ no creativity for names ✾

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

In Another Life

Part Three

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: You and Aleksander journey to Kribirsk, where everything starts to become real for you, as your plan is finally set in motion.

Warnings: canon level violence, brief nightmares, references to death.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

It had taken some time for you to become accustomed to the rocking sway of the coach as it rattles down the Vy. The roads of Os Alta are smooth, so you are quite well adjusted by the time the wheels begin to turn over rough earth and grass.

Aleksander sits beside you, with Fedoyr in front of you and Ivan next to him. Ivan doesn’t speak unless directly spoken to, usually by his husband, and Aleksander seems rather content to watch you and Fedoyr interact with one another.

The heartrender is very easy to talk to, and his bright friendly personality puts you at ease, though you still need to concentrate on your words. Throughout your conversation, you realise how effortless you find lying. You answer his questions with a surprising number of half-truths, which you’re certain impresses Aleksander.

The two of you had come up with a simple story to explain your background, which you relay to Fedoyr. When he asks about your family you respond with the truth. That whilst you were close with them, you hadn’t seen them for a long stretch of time.

“Do they plan on visiting you sometime?” Again, you respond with the truth.

“I’m sure they would love to. Though I don’t think they’ll be able to any time soon.” The fact that they exist in another universe makes it highly unlikely.

“A shame.” You nod in agreement, and quickly redirect the conversation towards his family. He has a large collection of older brothers and sisters, and you’re smiling as he tells you about them.

Surrounded by new people, it’s easy for you to hide how your thoughts linger elsewhere. After an hour or so, you reach Balakriev. As the you pass through the town, your eyes remain fixed on the streets lined with people who turn to stare at the sight of the Darkling’s coach tearing by.

Once the coach reaches the outskirts of Balakriev, it slows to a stop in the courtyard of a well-maintained inn.

Aleksander offers you his hand as you follow him out of the coach, and you stretch your aching legs as he speaks with some of his oprichniki.

Aleksander doesn’t remove himself from his soldiers, staying with them as your small group eats an early lunch at the inn. Whilst he isn’t actively involved in the conversation, he gives whoever is speaking his full attention. You will admit that you spend plenty of your time looking over at him.

Once lunch is over, the majority of your group heads to the stables to change over the horses, which will hopefully mean that you will arrive at Kirbirsk earlier than expected.

Needing a moment to think, you sit down on a nearby bench. You can see into the courtyard where Fedoyr is preparing one of the horses alongside an oprichnik.

Aleksander surveys them intently, his brows furrowed as his eyes scan over the cobbled courtyard. His chin lifts, and he turns his head as if he’s searching for something. In a slow, smooth motion he continues to turn his head, until his eyes fix on you.

Offering him a small smile doesn’t appear to be enough reassurance for him, as he’s soon striding through the courtyard and crossing the grass towards you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, sitting down slowly beside you on the bench, the wood shifting once he finally makes contact with it.

“I’m fine.” You insist.

He waits as you stare down at the blade of grass being twirled absentmindedly between the pads of your fingers.

“It’s just… talking with Fedoyr made me realise that I might never see my world again. I’ll never hear my favourite music, or read my favourite books. Even the clothes are different. It’s all gone. It might sound silly…” He shakes his head insistently.

“It’s still a loss.”

Turning to him, there’s a startling amount of understanding in his eyes. But of course he understands.

“It is.” You agree quietly.

How much has he lost to time? So many things have changed since he was a boy. It must be hard, to mourn each and every familiar thing as it fades into nonexistence.

No more words are exchanged between the two of you after that moment. Every now and then, you feel the weight of Aleksander’s eyes on you but you don’t turn to look at him.

Once the new horses have been attached to the coach, you and Aleksander return to join the rest of your travelling party. The oprichniki don’t pay either of you any mind, as they simply follow their orders. But you can sense Fedoyr and Ivan looking over at you as they mount their horses.

With just the two of you left in the coach, you’re able to ask Aleksander questions about things he would never discuss in front of another person. His expression softens when you tell him how beautiful the Little Palace is, and then you ask him about when the palace was built.

There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he tells you about the designs he himself had made, and you laugh when he describes the tasteless and irritating Royal Architect that he was forced to work alongside.

Around an hour after sundown, your eyelids begin to grow heavy. But, with the unsteady rocking of the coach, and the lack of any sort of headrest means you have little chance of being comfortable enough to sleep.

Besides, you haven’t slept well since you arrived in Ravka as your dreams have been far from sweet. It’s only once your head lolls lightly against the window frame for the third time, that Aleksander decides to speak.

“Come here.” You blink at him as he moves closer to the side of his seat, and realise he means for you to sit beside him. Shaking your head immediately, you insist,

“I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

You know he isn’t the kind of man that enjoys repeating himself, so despite your hesitation, you cross over to sit beside him. Aleksander leans back against the cushioned wall, one of his shoulders pressed against the edge of the window frame.

With a gentle motion, he encourages you to rest your head against his other shoulder and soon your eyes are fluttering closed. There’s a small frustrated huff that leaves your lips as you remain unable to relax.

“I can ask Fedoyr or Ivan to help you fall asleep.” He suggests.

“No, please don’t trouble them.” You insist, fingers curling around his sleeve as you turn your face further into his shoulder. The fabric of his kefta is surprisingly comfortable. “I just need to stay like this for a while, if that’s alright with you?”

“Of course.”

Hopefully with Aleksander so close to you, his presence will reassure you enough to lessen your nightmares. If not, then perhaps the jarring motion of the coach will prevent you from sleeping deep enough to dream properly.

Eventually you sleep. Your first dreamless night in Ravka.

»»---------------------►

When you wake sunlight is weaselling it’s way through a small crack between the dark curtains that Aleksander had drawn shut once night had begun to descend.

Shifting slightly, your eyes soon meet the man in question. Aleksander’s features are softened as he sleeps. The morning sun illuminates a few stray strands of his hair, shimmering flecks of gold amongst his dark locks. He looks so beautiful like this. Peaceful. Content.

Even as you notice his eyelashes beginning to flutter as he wakes, you can’t find the strength to look away from him. His eyes open, and meet yours immediately. Embarrassment warms your cheeks at being caught so quickly.

“Good morning.” He says softly, and something inside you shatters at the sound of his sleep heavy voice as that damned half smile tugs at his lips.

“Good morning.” You mumble, shuffling away from him as you reach towards the curtain lining the window.

Pulling the delicate fabric aside with a finger, you squint in the bright light as you attempt to survey your surroundings. Open fields of long grass, dried by a summer of heavy heat, stretch as far as you can see.

“Are we almost there?” You ask, turning towards Aleksander, only to find him leaning over, his face inches from yours as he looks out of the window.

For a moment you can only watch his face. His lips parted, eyes focused on the scenery as he searches for recognisable features. Then he nods, and you look away from him quickly.

“We should arrive some time within the next half an hour.” He informs you, and you nod in acknowledgement before you move back to take your place on the seat in front of him.

Kribirsk is a ramshackle of a town, made into a port over the centuries once people began using the town as a means to stop before any attempt at crossing the Fold. It certainly isn’t desolate. There’s plenty of ordinary civilians, and tradespeople clamouring about their produce, as well as First and Second Army soldiers wandering about.

The coach comes to a halt near what you assume is Aleksander’s tent. It’s black, which is the main giveaway, and much smaller than the Grisha tent beside it.

Aleksander climbs out first, and once again offers you his hand as you step onto the edge of the doorway. It’s once your feet are settled on the firm dirt ground that you get your first look at the Fold.

“It’s tall.” You remark, swallowing down the surge of fear at the sight of such a colossal wall of shadow with monsters lurking in its depths.

Aleksander nods, watching your expression carefully. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to change your mind about helping him, now that you’ve seen the Fold for yourself. Instead, you make a mental note to never ever go into the Fold, and nod resolutely at him as he steps backwards towards the tent. You follow him inside.

The inside of his tent isn’t dissimilar to his war room. There’s a large, circular table in the centre with a variety of maps and papers laid out over the dark wood. Around the edge of the tent there’s a few cabinets, chairs, stray flags and banners that bear his symbol - the sun in eclipse. Candles are strewn about, casting very little light, though you can see quite well due to a horizontal slit above the entrance to the tent, which allows a ray of sunlight to shine down onto the table.

Trailing behind Aleksander like one of his shadows, you observe who he talks to as he issues orders and makes demands. The older Grisha look at him with respect, and the younger ones have awe and fear in their eyes when they catch a glimpse of him.

Occasionally, Aleksander will explain your presence to a few Grisha after their curious eyes linger on you. In response you nod politely, and offer them a small smile.

After what feels like a long stretch of time, the two of you are finally alone. Aleksander sits down at the table, brows drawn together as he reads through a series of missives.

“Would you be able to fetch Miss Starkov and the tracker for a briefing?”

“Me?” Amusement sparks in his eyes, though his lips remain unmoving as he glances up from a report to look at you. He nods.

“You do know where they are currently. Don’t you?” There’s a pause as you take in his words. Then you realise you do know where they are.

“I’ll go get them.”

Whilst you theoretically know that Alina will be meeting up with Mal outside his tent before they cross the Fold, you don’t exactly know where his tent is.

For a good length of time, you wander through the First Army tents, dodging soldiers who barge by you as if you’re invisible. At one point you almost get knocked into a rather deep puddle, and you begin to worry that you’ll never find them.

Then you spot someone with a cartographer symbol stitched onto his shoulder, and you move towards him. From his appearance you can guess that he’s Alexei. There’s a pang of guilt in your chest as you realise that he will most likely be dragged off by the volcra in a few hours.

You can’t save everyone.

The group’s conversation is rather loud and a few of the boys are exchanging jokes boisterously.

Once you hear the mention of a black coach you realise they are talking about Aleksander. You remember the stories passed around by the First Army soldiers. Of a healer sealing a man’s mouth shut after he betrayed his country. Of heartrender’s bursting hearts and crushing lungs with a simple wave of a hand.

It’s only once you hear a particular remark that you stop walking.

“He’s not natural. None of them are.”

Of course you had read those words plenty of times before, but hearing them feels so much different. Especially now that you know Aleksander. Now that you’ve seen his hair tousled from sleep, and know how he takes his tea in the morning.

“Corporal Ortsev. Miss Starkov.” You call out.

The words come out sharper than you had intended, fuelled by their words about Aleksander and the Grisha. A boy turns sharply, tossing his towel onto his shoulder. Behind him, a young girl stands up. She’s small and thin, with dark hair pinned up underneath her standard First Army hat. Alina.

“General Kirigan has requested to speak with you both.”

“And who are you?” The boy, who you assume is Mal, asks.

“I’m the General’s assistant.” Another boy who sits nearby on a barrel leans forward to eye you with a smirk.

“Since when did the Black General have an assistant?” Lifting a brow at him, you fold your hands together casually.

“Since now, though I certainly don’t want to be the one to explain to him that we were delayed by people asking stupid questions.” Turning your attention back to Alina and Mal, you look between them both. “Shall we?”

In this moment, you’re insanely grateful that the Grisha tent is as large as it is, providing you with an easy route back to Aleksander’s tent. Mal and Alina exchange nervous glances with one another as you step inside, though they quickly follow you.

“Moi soverenyi.” Aleksander looks up at you, watching intently as you bow. “Corporal Ortsev, and Assistant Cartographer Starkov as requested.” He nods.

“You may leave us.”

You bow again, and turn on your heel. This is where you leave Aleksander to do what he does best. Convince people to do whatever he wants.

You decide to go in search of the bag you had packed. The only belongings you owned were what Aleksander had given you, but when you had been preparing for your trip to Kribirsk he asked if there was anything you wanted.

At the entrance to the Grisha tent, you find your bag. A medium sized cloth satchel that sits perfectly on your shoulder. Inside there’s a shawl, a notebook, and a collection of pencils.

Whatever clothes Aleksander had ordered for you had been packed alongside his things, in the large trunks currently sitting next to your bag. Adjusting the strap slightly as it settles on your shoulder, you head towards a pile of crates near Aleksander’s tent.

When you sit down, you realise you had chosen an opportune place to be able to see both the entrance to Aleksander’s tent, and a good proportion of the First Army’s encampment.

Pulling out your notebook, you begin to scribble down a makeshift map of Ravka, detailing travel times and observations about the landscape you had seen during your journey.

You’re in the middle of contemplating the width of the Fold when someone familiar walks by you. Alexei looks around nervously, keeping a large distance between himself and Aleksander’s tent.

“They’re still with the General.” You call out towards him when he nears you for the second time. He jumps a little, even though you weren’t particularly loud. He nods.

“Oh. Thanks.” He wrings his hands together, eyes scanning over the people around you. His frantic glances towards the Fold itself don’t escape your notice. You tell him your name, in an attempt to distract him from his obvious nerves.

“I’m Alexei.”

“How long have you been a cartographer?”

The two of you talk for a little, though his attention snaps towards the entrance to Aleksander’s tent as it flaps open. Alina and Mal both look bemused, and a little relieved.

Alexei heads over to them immediately.

“I’ve been reassigned.” You hear Alina tell him, and the tension returns to his shoulders.

Aleksander steps out from his tent, his cloak clasped around his throat, which sways dramatically in the breeze. Heads turn towards him, both Grisha and otkazat’sya. You snap your notebook shut and slide it back into your bag. Climbing down from your seat on the crates, you move towards Aleksander.

As you’re passing by the group, Alexei reaches towards you, prompting you to frown lightly and turn to face him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aleksander watching you. You’re certain he’s close enough to hear Alexei as he says,

“Thank you.” You swallow hard, nodding in response, and you walk with him as he moves towards the edge of the port.

“May the Saints protect you, Alexei.” You say, feeling the hollowness of your words in your chest as you stop by Aleksander’s side on a platform that overlooks the port. Alexei nods his thanks to you with a nervous smile, before he walks down towards the skiff.

As the sails fill with squaller winds, and the skiff begins to move, you grip tightly onto the railing at the edge of the port, nails digging into the battered wood.

“That boy is going to die today. Isn’t he?” Aleksander says quietly as you both stare into the Fold.

You nod.

“Though I hope I’m wrong.” Your voice is low, ensuring that he is the only one who hears you. “Who knows, Alina might have been what drew the volcra in. Without her on the skiff, they may be able to get through.”

Feeling the weight of Aleksander’s eyes on you, you turn to look at him. One glance at his face, and you breathe out sharply,

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you’re searching for hope.”

A small sigh falls from your lips, and the skiff disappears into the darkness.

“What else can I do?”

»»---------------------►

Aleksander, and in turn you, stay in Kribirsk for a week after the launch of the prototype sand-skiff. The skiff had actually managed to reach Novokribirsk but with heavy casualties.

A smaller skiff, carrying artillery, brings a missive a few days later, reporting the deaths. Aleksander glances over at you subtly as Ivan reads out Alexei’s name, but your face is perfectly collected.

That night, you dream of the Fold.

On every side of you, people are being torn apart by volcra. Screams and cries echo in your ears; the scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. Alina throws her hands out, failing to call the light.

There’s a sickening twist in your stomach. You were wrong about her. You had been wrong, and now you would all die because of your mistake.

Aleksander’s eyes meet yours, wide with horror, only for him to be ripped away from you. He disappears into the shadows, but you can hear his screams.

If Aleksander hears you crying into one of his pillows as he works late at his war table, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

At first you had protested against sleeping in his bed, after all, there was no threat to you within the camp. But when you wake in the middle of the night and are able to walk a few paces, lift a curtain aside, and join Aleksander as he works, you’re glad that you relented.

Seeing him alive and well is a comfort to you, especially after witnessing him being torn to pieces by the volcra in your dreams.

Neither of you talk. Occasionally he will glance over at you, meeting your eyes for a long moment before he continues with whatever he’s reading or writing. You keep your knees tucked against your chest, resting your chin against one of your kneecaps.

He works until the candles burn low, and he must reach a point in his work where he is satisfied to leave it. He casts out a hand, plunging the room into darkness.

Aleksander’s fingers curl around yours, urging you to stand and be lead through the darkness, back to bed.

»»---------------------►

Soon enough, you’re preparing to return to the Little Palace. Aleksander had been pulled into a last minute meeting with the Kaptain before you planned to leave.

Over the week, Grisha had soon learnt that your word was as good as their General’s and that you should be addressed accordingly. A few of them had even started bowing to you, which you had quickly assured them wasn’t necessary.

There were still some who didn’t accept your authority, after all you had appeared out of nowhere and suddenly had an important position beside the General. They have every right to be suspicious.

Aleksander had asked you to oversee the final preparations while he met with the Kaptain.

So, you had ordered for Aleksander’s tent to be dismantled, and all his important documents to be packed into the coach. This time the coach would travel along the Vy, whilst Aleksander and the rest of your party took the hunting trails by horseback. He had decided this was the best course of action, after you had warned him that Drüskelle would be travelling in the area.

As people begin to climb up onto their horses, you wring your hands awkwardly. Aleksander won’t have requested a horse for you, because he knows you can’t ride, but he hadn’t told you who you would be riding with on the journey back to Os Alta. Perhaps you could ask Fedoyr to help you.

At the sound of your name being called, you turn. Aleksander has mounted his horse, a large black steed that he manoeuvres effortlessly closer to you. He extends a hand, and your eyes widen when you realise he’s intending for you to ride with him.

“I’m sure someone else could take me. Why don’t you take Miss Starkov?” You suggest with a pointed look, brows raised hopefully.

He breathes out a small laugh as his eyes lift to something behind you. Alina has lifted herself up onto a grey mare, and though she looks far from confident, she’s faring much better than you would.

Her horse seems reluctant to move at first, and you pray that isn’t some sort of omen for you.

“It appears Miss Starkov knows how to ride.” Aleksander remarks drily, the corner of his mouth quirking as you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpan, before accepting his hand with a sigh.

He hears the sharp inhale that catches in your throat as you land in the saddle in front of him.

“It’s quite high.” You observe with panic lacing your tone as you stare down at the ground. Aleksander’s palm settles on your thigh, squeezing lightly in reassurance.

“You’re alright.” He says calmly, his lips brushing against your temple. “I won’t let you fall.” You nod. Of course he would keep you from falling, he needs you alive and not trampled by a horse. “Squeeze your legs together. Not too tight.” He directs you. “And hold on here.” His fingers tap against the front of the saddle, and you hold on tightly.

With how close he is, you can feel every breath he takes. It’s comforting, even if the proximity flusters you a little.

Ivan’s expression is unreadable as usual, and you flush a little, feeling like a child as you observe that you’re the only one not riding alone. Then Fedoyr grins at you, as he no doubt observes your rapidly beating heart, due to Aleksander’s hand still lingering on your thigh.

It’s just to keep you balanced. That’s all.

Aleksander secures the reins in one of his hands, and urges the horse into moving forwards.

Back to the Little Palace. Now the real work begins.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @modern-m-a-g-i-c

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift

#in another life au #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #in another life chapters

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meowunmeow · 12 days

Text

Undead Unluck Chapter 202 Spoilers!!

At first, I thought the title didn't make sense. Then I read on and oh it makes so much sense.

Of all languages... French. 6997 languages. And you chose French. Nico you USAmerican.

But yeah the game is extremely biased. Unless you're a polyglot, you're gonna lose against the literal personification of language.

So how exactly did 100!Nico beat Language... Was he a polyglot? Did he skimmed through every single dictionary there was before battling? Was he smart enough to choose something other than French?

I audibly gasped and yelled "WAR?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE" because seriously. What is he doing here and how did he even get here.

I'll admit to being unknowledgeable and not understand what Top means by Moga. Google only said a bunch of stuff that has nothing to do with planes nor war. If anyone knows what he means, go ahead and tell me.

I like how the planes have animal heads.

I'm assuming she means Mandarin here because it's the standardised language. Even though there are other Chinese languages like Hokkien or Cantonese. I can't blame Mr. Evelyn here because the raw is most likely to be "中国語" which literally translates to "Chinese".

I like the callback again. Logic and self-imposed rules are what ultimately stops negators from fulfilling their potential. Victor ends up falling behind Andy in terms of strength because he somehow convinced himself souls do not exist. So here, even though Ichico is well versed in souls, she is still a woman of science. She can't back away from logic that easily.

I had to search it up but wow, you're telling me this is supposed to be a sea creature of some kind... They're both equally confused, they 100% deserve each other.

Whoa whoa whoa... Nico can't see or hear souls. Yet he somehow manages to hear Ichico's pain? Does he have a wifey sense of some kind?? Loser.

I like how she talks to him like usual. She's either somewhat stupid or just forgot he can't hear her. But she's right in the end and he can indeed hear her.

Aw man that means summoning a living creature and having it die causes damage compared to summoning objects. Probably because it requires active imagination rather than pulling it from real life memories. That means that Nico needs to battle with a MacGuffin that isn't under Lan's domain.

But then that also means the way to beat Lan is by summoning an imaginative creature that can kill Lan's own imaginative creature, the dragon in this case. But what defeats a dragon?

Nico can't see her yet... He is stressed out to the max here and hoping that she is fine.

NEW SOUL ABILITY UNLOCKED?? TELEPATHY??? Or... An ability manifestation?

They weren't kidding about Ichico being a threat due to her quick adaptation with soul abilities.

Ooh she had this set up from the beginning... She chose umibuzou and didn't bother imagining a decent creature because she just wants a "u". Her reliance on English really convinces my British-born Japanese HC of her lol.

Lol Sean probably woke up and went "something's wrong. I can feel it." and Gina just snacks him back to sleep.

FENG??? rip to tells fans but FENG???

Should've seen this coming when I re-read the early 101 arc and I noticed that Feng understood Fuuko even after she took off her necktie translator (her armband). After living for so long, he could definitely picked up an extra language or two.

It's around 1:30-2:00am in Brazil. So probably around 6:00am in the UK. So around 1:00pm in China or Hong Kong if that's where he resides. This man was enjoying an afternoon nap when he got teleported with his hair messed up and tits fully out.

#undead unluck #undead unluck spoilers #later than usual because i fell asleep lol #but it's the thought that counts #meow reads

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hellpmeimobsessed · 2 years

Text

Slashers and their favorite games.

Billy Lenz: Hide-and-seek (hiding)

Billy loves being sought out with his expert hiding skills. He can hide in small spaces and has almost no self preservation, so dangerous areas are also a possibility, but he's got one more trick up his sleeve; once you get close to his hiding spot, he makes a run for it. It doesn't count if you haven't caught him!

Billy Loomis: Dodgeball

Two words: Killer. Aim. He doesn't hold back and will try to get away with cheating. He has a flawless tactic; grab as many as he can at the start by flinging them onto his side of the line, and keep at least three on his side and carefully dodge anything coming his way until he's got all the balls in his court.

Bo Sinclair: Hide-and-seek (seeking)

Bo can be quiet when searching if he really tries, although Vincent does still beat him in stealth. Bo likes the chase, and will call out to you when he has a feeling you're in the same room as him. He has the most fun when you try to run from him and hide somewhere else.

Brahms Heelshire: Hide-and-seek (hiding)

Brahms has to be specifically instructed to pick a place you can find, not deep inside the walls, and that when he finds a spot he wants to hide in, he has to stay there even if he's at risk of getting caught; if not, he will be impossible to find. He has a bad habit of giggling as you get closer to his hiding spot.

Bubba Sawyer: Red Light Green Light

It doesn't matter who's the traffic light, he finds it fun to try and sneak up on you and hone your skills, or vice versa. He takes longer strides than you and utilizes that against you. He hoists you up from behind if he catches you and squeals happily.

Chucky: Cards Against Humanity

He's a crude bastard and making awful jokes is his favorite past time activity, and he gets to find out what makes you laugh, and it works the other way around, too.

Freddy Kreuger: Cards

Card games of any form, he enjoys trying to read you at face value, letting you bluff your way through a game of poker, or your ruthlessness at Uno, maybe even your luck at blackjack.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter: Scrabble

The doctor enjoys putting that silver tongue and expansive knowledge to good use, and it's a good and calm game that helps him learn about you, too. He became puzzled when you spelled out a word he wasn't familiar with.

"Yeet? What's a 'yeet'?"

You flipped the board at him and exclaimed "Yeet!" He wasn't very amused.

Jason Voorhees: Hide-and-seek (seeking)

He enjoys having to look for you, but he worries sometimes that you'll get hurt trying to climb trees or wandering through the abandoned cabins. He's not very quiet while searching, and he doesn't like it if you run when you're almost caught. He's trying to play hide-and-seek, not tag.

Lester Sinclair: Duck-duck-goose

He enjoys when he can get you and his brothers to play along, and he'll more often than not pick you. When he doesn't pick you, he picks Bo. He gets a laugh out of constantly circling you three.

"Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck..."

"Will you fuckin' pick already?!"

"Aight Bo, fine. Goose!"

"You son of a! God damnit!"

Michael Myers: What time is it Mr. Wolf

It's a terrifyingly fun experience. The kind where you can't help but start laughing, even if it's out of sheer nervousness. He doesn't verbally respond to your prompt, so you'll have to just wait until you hear his footsteps stop. You know he's behind you when you can hear his breathing and he taps you on the shoulder; that's your cue to start running.

Stu Macher: Charades

He's a fun, goofy guy who enjoys acting. This is his calling. He makes them so confusing on purpose. There's no way you guess them correctly unless you're literally just guessing.

Thomas Hewitt: Tag (It)

He's surprisingly fast for how big he is, and he can turn on a dime. His favorite tease is when he's got you cornered. He stands completely still with the biggest smile on his face. He knows you can't get away, but he'd like to see you try. Maybe you'll figure something new out.

Vincent Sinclair: Hide-and-seek (seeking)

Vincent is dead quiet; you never know if he's found you or not. He'll toy with you by walking past you and continuing to search around, even if he already knew you were there. He'll pop out of nowhere and grab you in a giant hug when he finds you.

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wisteriaiswriting · 3 months

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Hi! thoughts on jett, neon, reyna in a soulmate au? (like how they met or what type of soulmate au)

𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝔸𝕌𝕤

Words: 444

I'm kinda tempted to make a full post about Reyna's.

𝕁𝕖𝕥𝕥:

Soulmate AU| Your soulmate’s touch will leave an imprint on your skin once contact is made.

***

It’s highly likely she won't realize, meaning someone else will point it out to her.

When she does she’ll start using it to draw on you. Enjoys watching the colours form, mainly leaves plenty of hearts.

***

“Jett, down below!” The words were harsh and direct, causing her to look down. You, a civilian were cornered by the omega agents. And it didn’t help you were wounded, you would need Sage for immediate help.

Luckily she was quick in taking them down. Once gone she was careful to carry you, unaware of the colour spread beneath her palm.

“Sage!” Said healer turned, seeing the injury was enough to rush over. Wiping away the blood after you were healed, letting her see the colours that she assumed was blood.

“Just met and you’re already caring for them.”

“Huh?” She only pointed, letting you two figure out the rest. “You’re my soulmate!”

ℕ𝕖𝕠𝕟:

Soulmate AU| When your soulmate draws on their body it also appears on your own.

***

She zones out a lot more than people think, so she tries to combat it by drawing. And she does

Most likely to find out online. She verified it’s actually her drawings before reaching out.

***

It was a weirdly quiet afternoon, so Neon spent most of it scrolling through social media. Seeing plenty of different posts, video games, cooking, fashion, even some art. But one caught her attention.

Two people stood in the mirror, one held the recording phone while the other looked over their arms. Both were covered in a range of doodles. The caption though, drew her in.

‘Is your soulmate an artist?’ Followed by a link to your account. Another quick scan confirmed they were her drawings, seeing as they also covered her arms. So it couldn’t hurt to send a message.

A quick picture of her arms followed by a message.

‘Wanna see some more?’

ℝ𝕖𝕪𝕟𝕒:

Soulmate AU| Names on both wrists, one soulmate other enemy, can’t tell which one is which.

***

When they first show up she won’t show any interest, unless her enemy is an active threat.

Eventually curiosity will catch up to her, causing her to search for you whether or not it’s with someone's help.

***

It had started with ten agents on the field, currently only two remained in battle. Reyna verses you, otherwise known as [Codename] to everyone else.

“Cypher, who is this?” Her voice was full of venom, as she hadn’t been able to land a hit onto you yet. And luckily Cypher managed to find something about you.

“Not much, but I do know who this is.”

“Hurry up!”

“Fine fine, [Codename] also known as Y/N L/N.” That had her pause slightly. Surely not.

A quick look at her wrist confirmed so, both of the said names were on her wrists. She could only guess [Codename] was the enemy, confused as you were the same person.

God it was hard work, but hopefully you’d be with her soon enough.

#valorant x reader #valorant x male reader #valorant jett x reader #jett x reader #valorant neon x reader #neon x reader #valorant reyna x reader #reyna x reader #wisteria♥

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months

Text

Be My Little Darling - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Mentions of blood and gore. Smut. Fingering (fem receiving), oral (male receiving), Dom Loki. Mentions of survivor's guilt.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. An accident in one of the rooms forces you and Loki together as you try to puzzle out who is after Loki.

Word Count: 4,907k

Masterlist

A/N: I had too much fun writing this, so I hope you have fun reading! Loki is like...the perfect muse. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @braverthanthenewworld @cantstayawaycani @monaeesstuff @xorpsbane @headcannonxgalore @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance

Screaming. There was lots of screaming coming from down the hall. You were in the Jotunheim room, freezing your tits off, when the sound of screaming made you stop talking. The patron in front of you was about to mouth off but you held up a hand. You tilted your head, searching for the sound, and you heard it again.

Footsteps pounded outside of the room and there was a flurry of activity running just outside the door. “It’s okay, everyone!” You called out.

You motioned towards the DJ to turn up the music. You motioned for the waitresses and waiters to refill everyone’s drink. You smiled and made an effort to walk to the door at a normal speed.

Once there, employees and patrons were running and screaming towards the front entrance. You stopped one of the waiters. “What’s going on?”

“It’s sick!” He said. He looked a little green and held his mouth, presumably thinking of whatever the hell was going on. He wasn’t going to be useful so you let him go and moved down the hallway. You felt like a fish trying to swim upstream. There were so many people.

Other rooms had people leaning out of it to see what was going on. On your way, you assured them that everything was fine and pushed them back into their respective rooms with the promise of a free round.

Panic climbed up your throat but there was nothing to panic about right now. If it was a fire, the alarms would go off. Sprinklers would turn on and drench the place. If it was a shooter, you’d hear gunshots or more yelling. You ran through a list of scenarios and the safeguards you had in place.

Unless…unless whoever was fucking with the club was at it again. You tried not to worry about that, but the fact that Loki didn’t know what was going on scared you in many ways. He was the god of mischief. And the things that had been happening around the club reeked of mischief. He wouldn’t sabotage his own club, not even for fits and giggles. So who?

There was a big crowd in one of the hallways surrounding the Nidavellir room. You pushed through the throng of people until you got to the entrance. There were still a lot of patrons inside, along with some actors, and Honey stood off to the side of the stage. She was fuming and cursing up a storm in Spanish.

When she saw you, she only got angrier. “I told you! I told you something like this was going to happen!”

You crossed the room to her and she grabbed your hand. She pulled you towards the stage where an actress, Angel, had her leg stuck in a hole. The stage had collapsed around her leg and there were torn and bloody pieces of wood next to her. Angel’s makeup was ruined and running down her tear-filled cheeks.

She held herself up but her arms were shaking with the effort. There were a few guys surrounding her, trying to get her up, but any time they moved her, Angel screamed and sobbed harder.

“Shit, shit,” you muttered. The stage had slipped your mind. After dealing with the mind-controlled idiots, they hadn’t offered any explanation for their actions or their whereabouts beforehand. Loki said he would handle it and that was the end of it. On top of your other duties, a few days had passed and you hadn’t even thought of the stage.

You sighed. You’d have to start carrying around a notebook or something. You were usually better than this. You blamed it on another restless night searching for information on your family.

“Okay, boys, stop! You’re making it worse. Angel, we’re going to get you out and I need you to hold on a little longer.”

“I told you this would happen! If you two had listened to me…”

“Honey! Not now. Get these people out of here. Either offer them a different room or comp them two free drinks on a return.”

Honey opened her mouth to argue more but you lifted an eyebrow. She ran her tongue over her teeth before smirking. “You’re even starting to act like him. It’s weird!” She turned around and started to usher the onlookers out of the room.

“And someone turn off that damn music!” You yelled. This room had thumping, rhythmic music that was doing nothing for your growing headache. No sooner had you yelled it, did the DJ cut the music.

“Thank the gods,” you sighed.

“My thanks usually come with gifts,” Loki said.

You sighed harder. You half turned to see him weaving through tables to reach you. You always saw him in that damn black suit and yet it was like seeing him for the first time. He always managed to look crisp and unbothered. Every button in its place, the flower on his lapel, and his long hair tucked behind his ears.

He stalked towards you, his eyes trained on you, and stopped just in front of you. “What’s going on?”

“Well, it appears Angel fell through the stage,” you said.

Loki huffed a laugh and looked at you. “I have eyes, Darling,” he said.

“Then why did you…? You know what, I don’t care. It’s being handled. Don’t you have ale to drink somewhere? Deals to make?” You asked.

Loki stared at Angel and the stage. He knocked on the wooden floor and crossed his arms. “I can conjure some pillows to help, but we need to stop her bleeding before she passes out,” he said.

“I can handle this, Loki,” you said.

“Have I implied you couldn’t?” He looked at you and you bit the inside of your cheek. This felt like a test. One you were failing. You didn’t know what his hidden agenda was but you had no time for it. He was offering to help. Two heads were better than one.

You looked at the men still standing on the stage. You looked at the tallest and skinniest. “I need your belt. You’re going to wrap your belt around her leg to stop the bleeding.”

You hopped onto the stage, but you weren’t tall enough to swing your leg in one go. Instead, you hopped backwards scooting your booty onto the stage. Loki watched you work and grinned when you caught him staring at your bare legs. You rolled your eyes as you swiveled on your butt and rolled onto your feet.

Loki hopped onto the stage in one fluid motion. He moved like a dancer, born to do it. He stalked across the stage and spoke softly to Angel. He managed to make her laugh. He conjured two pillows for her arms and she sighed a bit as he slipped it under her forearms and side.

The actor you pointed to had his belt off and tied it around Angel’s leg. You conjured a saw and handed it to the actor with the biggest muscles. “Cut around her leg. We’re gonna let gravity do most of the work. If someone hasn’t done so, call the police. She’s going to need an ambulance,” you called out.

People rushed to do your bidding as you directed them on what to do. Mercifully, Loki stayed out of most of it. He let you take care of everything. Angel was free but there was a river of blood down her leg. There were scratches and one deep gash on her leg that everyone recoiled from.

You smiled at Angel and told her that everything would be alright. That you would go with her to the hospital and it would all check out.

“Send Honey. I need you here,” Loki said.

You held your first, second, and third responses before turning to him with a grin. “I want to make sure she’s okay,” you said.

“She will be. I have another use for you,” he said.

You took a deep breath and told someone to find Honey. As the janitors got there, you told them to leave the area alone until you were able to investigate what happened. They only needed to gather the loose pieces and put up cones.

You directed people to close off the room, clean up the dishes, and clear out. Once everyone had a job to do, Honey came into the room. She was still cursing in Spanish but was gentle with Angel. Honey shot you and Loki a dirty look before escorting the paramedics inside.

They loaded Angel onto a stretcher and Honey was there to keep them all in line. Loki waited for you on the side of the stage. He stood like a lifesize painting. In moments like these, you saw the godliness. He was regal in every sense of the word. And beautiful. Still an ass.

You walked over to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind. He smiled and held up a hand. “I know. But I believe this is the work of our saboteur and I’d like your help,” he said.

You stopped short of getting into his personal space and squinted at him. “Who are you?”

He smirked. “It’s me, honest.” He walked closer and hung his head to look into your eyes.

“Someone is messing with my club and you are the only one I trust,” he said. “I know we can get to the bottom of this.”

“How? Whoever is doing this isn’t taking credit. And they’re able to do it without being here,” you said.

“I think they are here. No one can work remote magic. Perhaps a witch, but this isn’t their style,” he said.

“You think it’s a magic user after you?” You asked.

“I know it is,” he said.

You nodded and chewed on your lip. It would make sense for it to be magic that’s been causing a ruckus. But why? And who would do it?

“Come. While we have the chance,” he said. He turned on his heel and hopped off of the stage. He turned and held out his hand to you. You rolled your eyes but you also didn’t want to bust your head open trying to prove a point.

You held his hand and climbed down off of the stage. His strong hands stabilized your waist as you got down. “Thank you,” you said.

He grinned. “My thanks usually come with gifts,” he said.

“My gift is not stomping on your foot,” you said and grinned innocently at him. He chuckled and let you go. You missed him instantly.

Was it so hard for you to give in and say the words? How hard was it to say, “Okay, Loki. Fuck me like one of your conquests”?

Partially. You wanted the experience with none of the messy feelings. In a cruel twist of irony, that wasn’t what Loki was after. He wanted your feelings while he gave none of his own. He wanted to own you, body and spirit. And you didn’t want to give it to him. You wanted to keep your heart firmly in your own hands.

You followed him out of the room and towards the back of the club. You walked a bit behind him. Only because his strides were so long and your legs were so short in comparison. You watched that strut of his.

It would break you to be hurt by him. You would truly be broken. Like a kid that had played too rough with their dolls. He would wreck you in the worst way if you gave everything to him and he gave nothing in return.

He didn’t “do” feelings. Your refusal was all part of some sick and twisted game in his mind. You weren’t the first person to say no to him. You weren’t even the fifth. For a reason you couldn’t fathom, it bothered him when you said no. If it was merely about pleasure, you would understand.

No one liked being told no. Rejection was an acidic taste no one wanted to experience. So naturally, people wanted what they couldn’t have. He could have your body, he just couldn’t have your heart. So what was his deal?

He made a turn before his office and you followed, confused on his destination. Until he was outside of the security room. Loki opened the door, scaring the poor guard on the inside.

“We need the room,” Loki said.

The guard was petrified of Loki. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at the poor man. He was older, retired police, with a shock of white hair and a bushy white mustache. He swallowed painfully, audibly, as he nodded profusely and exited the room without another word.

“Words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ go a long way, you know,” you said.

“I know,” Loki said. He smiled as he closed the door behind you and locked it. Your stomach flipped. The security room was just big enough for four people to stand in comfortably. Only big enough for two people to sit in comfortably.

There were monitors all over the room showing various camera angles of different rooms, hallways, common areas. There were only a few in the employee lounge and break room, offering minimal privacy. There were a million cameras in the actual club rooms, kitchens, and bar areas.

On the desk, there was a large switchboard. There were so many buttons and levers, you weren’t sure what to make of it. Loki sat down in the chair previously occupied by the guard and his fingers flew over the switchboard with ease.

“How do you know how to work that thing?” You asked.

“I know everything about my club. Including Earth contraptions,” he said. His rumbling voice filled the quiet room. It only highlighted how intimate the space was. You crossed your arms. You didn’t like this. Not one bit.

You weren’t claustrophobic, but the dark room did remind you of the ship. The ship that carried you here. Guilt still snuck up on you sometimes. You were close to getting killed. It was only up to Thanos who got killed and who got spared. You happened to stand on the correct side.

You shook the memories off. It wasn’t your fault that the monster played judge and executioner. You focused on Loki’s fingers as they moved across the board.

He brought the Nidavellir room up on the big screen and rewound the tape until Angel was going through her routine. Everything was fine until her foot went through the stage. There was no one around her, except for the other dancers in her routine.

“What are we looking for?” You asked.

“The stage should not have collapsed. It was specially made to be near indestructible. It would have taken a thousand Angel’s to break through it.”

“But you see, there was no one on stage with her,” you said.

Loki scoffed. “You can do better than that, Darling,” he said.

You sighed. You hated when he did that. It activated some petty and competitive side to you. You wanted to play on his level and pick out what he was thinking. It was stupid and childish and yet you found yourself leaning in. You placed your hands on the desk and leaned over to get a good look.

Loki obliged and ran the tape a few more times. You looked at everything but Angel. He was right. The saboteur wouldn’t have to be on stage, just in the room. He ran it one more time until you placed your hand on his arm.

“There!” You pointed to a hooded figure who was only partially in frame. They were facing away from the camera so you couldn’t see their face. But the figure turned away right before Angel’s leg went through the stage. Like they had anticipated everyone freaking out and ready to run out.

“Very good, Darling,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. You were also still holding his arm. You could feel him flexing beneath your hand. You snatched your hand away.

“Afraid to touch me, Darling?” He asked.

He pressed a series of buttons to zoom in on the figure but no other camera caught the person.

“I could’ve been touching you this whole time. You’re the one who doesn’t want me to,” you said.

“Is that what you think?” He was so fucking nonchalant. As if he were asking for the weather or shipping updates.

You didn’t answer him. You watched as he brought up different camera feeds, trying to follow the figure. They knew where the cameras were. It wasn’t hard to avoid the ones anyone could see. But they avoided the hidden ones as well. Impressive. The figure disappeared into the crowd as they ran from the room. The front entrance didn’t catch them leaving either.

“Come here, Darling,” he said, using that same nonchalant tone.

You scowled at him. He had pushed away from the desk and turned the chair in your direction. “No.”

He grinned and pulled your arm. You struggled but he was stronger. He pulled you onto his lap so that your back was to his chest. “You know what to say to get me to stop,” he whispered in your ear.

You scoffed but he was right. Some part of you wanted to see where this was going. He gripped your thighs and placed them outside of his. Then, he scooted the chair closer to the desk so that it wasn’t easy for you to get up. Your knees brushed the underside of the desk and you wiggled trying to get comfortable.

Loki hummed low, in the back of his throat. It was then that you noticed the hardening bulge under your ass. You stopped wiggling.

“You mentioned when we started all of this that I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I know what you need but perhaps I went about it all wrong. I gave you too much time to think, to talk yourself out of it,” he said.

His hands played with the hem of your skirt. His fingers skated over your thick thighs. You gasped softly. “What are you on about?”

“My poor, overworked Darling,” he purred.

His hands lifted your skirt and bunched it around your waist. Your breathing increased, but you tried to keep it contained. Keep it to yourself.

“I left you with the option to think it over. To beg me to kiss and fuck you. You’re not going to do that. Your pride is too strong,” Loki whispered against your neck.

“Finally, we agree on something,” you said. Your voice sounded a little breathy.

Loki smiled against your neck and his fingers started to knead and seek the core of you. You placed your hands on his to keep him from going forward. You couldn’t think straight. Not with his hands on you.

“Hands on the desk, Darling. Now,” he commanded. Your hands flew to the desk in front of you without even realizing it. You scowled, ready to chew him a new one before he kissed your neck.

“If you move them, the game is over. If you tell me to stop, the game is over. Understand?” He asked.

You licked your lips and nodded. “I understand,” you said. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn’t see his face. You couldn’t interpret his mood or guard yourself against what came next. And you liked it.

His fingers found your panties and he moved it to the side. He slipped his left hand through your folds and sighed at finding you wet.

“I should’ve realized sooner that the issue was the decision. You needed it out of your hands. You decide and control everything all day long. Here, at home. Do you ever turn your brain off?” He asked.

His hand played with your clit and you jerked. You moved your hand a little and he tsked at you. You bit your lip and placed your hands flat on the desk.

“I have to be ready for anything,” you said. It was true. You were a firm believer in that anything that could go wrong, would go wrong eventually. You had backup plans for your backup plans.

Loki reached around you to mess with the switchboard again. The bastard was working while he was finally giving you what you wanted. He brought up the feed from the Nidavellir room again. This time, after the incident when you showed up.

“Look at how in control of the situation you are. Never faltering. Look at how everyone looks to you,” he said.

He continued to play with you and you were getting wetter by the second. You watched as you came into the room. Everyone looked at you. Even when Loki showed up, they were taking your cues.

Loki slipped a finger inside you and you moaned. You dropped your head because it had been so fucking long since you had someone else’s hand inside of you. You took care of yourself when you got the chance. Lately, those chances were few and far inbetween.

“Look at the screen. Keep your eyes on yourself,” he commanded in your ear.

You struggled to lift your head. His fingers were long and he had them at an angle, rubbing against a spot inside of you that you hadn’t managed to get on your own. His finger stilled and you grunted.

“Eyes up, Darling. I won’t tell you again,” he said.

You sniffled a bit. You weren’t crying, but the pleasure felt so damn good. You were desperate to get his fingers moving again. So you lifted your head and focused blurrily on the image of you telling everyone what to do.

Loki began to stroke your pussy and you moaned softly. “You do so much around here. I know I don’t always say it. But I am deeply grateful to have someone like you at my side. However, I am aware of what you need,” he said.

He added a second finger and you reared up. Loki groaned as you wiggled against his hard cock. He pumped his fingers in and out of you. You wanted to close your legs, it felt too fucking good, but he kept your legs on the outside of his. There was no way to close them.

Your hands curled against the desk until they were fists. Your nails dug into your palms. Your moans filled the room and the wet suction of your pussy as his fingers slid in and out. He added his thumb to stroke your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned. Pressure built in your tummy as your orgasm floated to the surface.

“You need to let go, my Darling. Let go, for once. Just feel,” he said. He kissed up and down the side of your neck. He bit your neck where it met your shoulder. “Let go.”

“Oh fuck,” you wailed as you climaxed and flooded his fingers.

When you were done, Loki pulled his fingers out of you. Then he shoved them into your mouth. “Suck.”

You sucked his fingers, tasting your arousal. He moved more switches and pressed more buttons on the switchboard. He located the footage from the fight. The men that had attacked you had pulled up on their own and exited the car by themselves. It was mid afternoon but the parking lot was half full.

Loki kissed your neck. “I wish you could see yourself right now. You’re so gorgeous after you cum,” he said.

You groaned. Somehow, you only wanted more. You weren’t satisfied with just his fingers. Loki pulled his fingers out of your mouth and licked up what you couldn’t get to.

Loki pushed away from the desk and massaged your thighs. They were beginning to ache a bit. His breath fanned over your neck and ear, raising goosebumps. He closed your legs and your arousal had cooled a bit in your panties.

He pushed you to stand and some part of you died. He got you off and now he was done with you. Discarded.

Loki chuckled. “Do you think I’m done with you?” He asked.

“Aren’t you?”

Loki grinned. “Never. I’m never done with you. Not until I hear you beg for this cock. It won’t be now, it won’t be soon. But I will hear those words,” he said.

Your jaw dropped. You didn’t understand him. And it was infuriating. You made a career of being able to read people well. And he made it more difficult with every word he spoke.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you said. Though, you sounded tougher in your head. Your eyes kept dropping to his thick cock straining against his trousers. He noticed and rubbed himself over his pants. You thought he was going to say something smart about how you couldn’t get it unless you begged.

“Get on your knees,” he said.

He started to undo his belt. Your pussy tingled. You were crouching down and staring at his hands before it registered. You didn’t scowl this time. He unzipped himself and pulled his trousers down. You helped him bring them down a little further.

He stroked himself and you licked your lips, watching the action. His dick was huge and his balls were heavy. Precum beaded at the tip before it slipped over the side and dripped down to the base.

Loki rubbed his dick across your lips. “Put that impudent mouth to good use,” he said.

You opened wide and slipped your lips over the thick tip. The saltiness of his cum coated your tongue and you licked up everything he gave. You bobbed your head slowly, trying to see how you could fit all of him and please him.

“No teasing, Darling. I have dreamed of this too often,” he said.

You fought the urge to smirk. All that bullshit he sprouted about being able to last. You used your tongue and hands to add extra pressure as you began to suck him dry. The sound of you slurping his cock was nothing in comparison to his moans. He stared at you while you sucked him off.

He encouraged you on what he liked and what he didn’t like. He coached you on how to take him how he wanted. Your pussy clenched hearing his words of praise. “My beautiful, Darling. Your mouth is heavenly,” he said.

He couldn’t stop touching your face and hair, moving it out of the way of you pleasing him. He stopped talking as you sucked him harder, like a lollipop. He threw his head back and moaned.

His mouth hung open and his eyes were closed tightly. He brought his hands to your head and began to move you faster. You choked a bit as he forced himself deeper down your throat. And you fucking loved it. You loved that he was fucking your mouth. That you were the one driving him this crazy.

He moaned a bit more before he shoved into your mouth on one hard push. His cum squirted out of him and down your throat in hot pulses. You swallowed it all down and moaned. Your panties were fucking soaked and you pathetically clenched around nothing. You needed this beautiful cock inside you. You wanted to see his face as he slammed into you over and over.

Loki pulled out of your mouth and he bent forward in the chair. He kissed both of your cheeks, your forehead, and your lips. He pulled your hair until your neck was exposed and he kissed the length of it.

“So fucking gorgeous. So divine. You are a goddess,” he whispered.

Your heart soared. You would live and die on his praise. If he kept it up, there would be no coming back down. Your head would swell ten sizes too big.

You grinned and he kissed you again. Posessively. Madly and deeply. Your kisses were sloppy but no less hot. He pulled back and put his face against your cheek. He panted and nuzzled you until you were both calm enough to speak.

“Why won’t you say the words?”

It took you a minute to understand what he was asking. You were thankful that he couldn’t see your face as you answered.

“I don’t want to make it bigger than what it is. It’s just us fucking,” you said.

Loki kissed your cheek. “If that were all it was, this would have happened a long time ago. We’re past casual, Darling,” he said.

You wanted to deny it. To hold on to your delusion that this was one sided. Or that he didn’t truly care, not that way. And why should you want his feelings? After he was done with you, he would move on to his next obsession.

“I know you’re going to overthink this. Don’t. Clean yourself up and come back. We’ve got a saboteur to find,” he said.

He let you go and fixed his pants. You stood up with a frown. He still wasn’t going to fuck you. He said as much but you still held on to that pathetic sliver of hope.

He stood up and smirked at you. He leaned in and kissed you. When he pulled back, he bit your lip. “Do as I say, Darling,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you!”

His laugh followed you out of the room. Bastard.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Loki Files #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Black reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x fem reader #loki x plus size reader #Loki x reader #Loki x you #Loki smut #marvel smut #Loki fanfic #Loki fan fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki fan fiction #loki god of mischief

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theweeklydiscourse · 2 months

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It feels like beyond the pro-darkling/darklina sphere, it’s kind of rare to see Shadow and Bone fans truly cut to the bone about the underlying issues in both the trilogy and Leigh Bardugo’s subsequent spinoff series.

Honestly that could just be because I’m thinking of specific areas like YouTube or TikTok where this brand of critique is few and far between, but for a series as old as this one, I’d expect there to be a little more in-depth reflection on it’s flaws.

We’ll see a few similar points that are brought up frequently, but you’ll find that the critics who raise these points do so on a surface level. For example, the most common criticism of the series is the fact that it felt wrong to have the heroine lose her powers at the end, but it’s more common for people to just leave it at that instead of digging deeper into why it felt that way. Even then, you’ll have the odd contrarian piping up to argue that the people criticizing that aspect of the series just didn’t “get it” the way they did and that it was perfectly fine storytelling.

Inversely, you will hardly see any content that discusses the issues of the Grisha persecution storyline even on a surface level unless you delve into pro-darkling circles. Despite materials like Demon in the Woods and the Nikolai duology that display the Grisha’s plight in vivid detail, it isn’t a common topic of discussion among fans. When pushed to the limit, you’ll even see fans denying that the Grisha were ever oppressed at. On some level it makes sense why fans wouldn’t exactly be keen on discussing the flaws of their precious books, but it almost feels as though the fandom actively discourages discussions like this.

It could be that I’m just not searching hard enough, but I hardly see any YouTube videos or TikToks that discuss these things or try to dig into the issues with the series. You have the usual suspects like it being built on cliches, annoying heroine, annoying love interest and a terrible ending, but I feel like I need more.

#fandom discourse #grishaverse fandom #pro darkling #the darkling #alina starkov #Grisha persecution #s&b critical #lb critical #shadow and bone #aleksander morovoza #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #demon in the wood #king of scars

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jonathan-samuel-smith · 7 months

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BoSS Dami is like the same character but rather than serious and grumpy they play up his arrogance into him being boastful and cocky and I love it. He's having so much fun in the film, he loves fighting. He's bloodthirsty in a way that makes the audience happy for him which is pretty funny. I love the way they animate his facial expressions it's so good, and I love his voice. It's a little bit serious and broody while still being arrogant and youthful it's great. Jon sounds a little too old to be ten but I like his voice other than that. I love how Jon thinks he's cool and how quickly they bond despite clashing early on. And they're so cute. So. Cute.

The colorism thing is a big problem and it's par the course for Damian, when given the full range of color options for a character of his heritage they will always choose the lightest unless they're actively fighting their subconscious racism and colorism.

I went off on a rant on DC colorists colorism under the cut this post really got away from me, but READ THIS IF YOU DRAW DAMIAN!!↓

I get that you draw what you see and if you see a lot of white and lightskinned people you end up getting good at only drawing white people, and light skin has been purposely highlighted in visual media for centuries in this country, but USE GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH GOD DAMNIT, FOLLOW POC ON SOCIAL MEDIA, HIRE POC. Go out of your damn way to learn this shit. If you can't do it good now, learn!

I went through this with homestuck, all the human characters have #00000 skin so you're free to have whatever race headcanons you want of them, but that's not actually representation. I was influenced by this style because coloring skin is hard so I just shaded it with my pencil and left it uncolored but then I realized by refusing to color the melanin in someone's skin, that's colorism. Fuck that. So I decided to learn, and mess up a lot of otherwise pretty works, because it would be worth it in the end. I'm still learning but I've learned so much already.

For example a lot of colorist societies draw pale skin far too desaturated. If you compare actual skin to the skin in anime, nearly all Asians that aren't photoshopped or wearing make up/bleaching look so much darker. Bleached paper being what we draw on and light skin being the presumed default in our culture has made white people (and others) way too comfortable doing the bare minimum in coloring skin. You don't still use the yellow crayon for blonde hair so why do you still use the very light peach/tan as the default skin tone? You're not even coloring light skin right let alone approaching properly drawing dark skin right.

I'm so fucking tired of every company doing this when I learned how to do better in middle school. Get out of your fucking comfort zone and draw diversely, or you're a coward and you're not doing anything to combat your culturally inherited racism.

Most DC artists are good at drawing 1 or 2 skin tones, maybe 3. There are so many more undertones and shades than that. I'm not counting rainbow colors. If you want Damian to be paler than his mother to reflect his mixed heritage that's totally fine! But it should be darker than Bruce's and Jon's. I've compared them and paid attention to the shadows being cast and he's really not darker than Jon and only rarely darker than Bruce because they drew Bruce especially pale.

I want you to understand that removing melanin from a character is erasure of their identity and actively harmful. There's a broad range of skin tones that the son of Talia and Bruce might have but choosing the lightest possible option is favoring white skin over dark skin, not realism. Just because you've seen more light skinned mixed kids doesn't mean there aren't darker skinned ones. The light skinned ones get more attention on social media and commercially because of social bias + algorithms + intentional racism. Most people who are colorist think that they're not racist because they're representing nonwhite people not bothering to notice that the people they represent have the most european features and light skin in their group. Yes those people are oppressed too but you're not fixing anything by only showing racially ambiguous people.

Mariner on star trek is a relevant example from animation. Both her parents have dark skin but she has much lighter skin because she's a main character. Stop it. Stop it. Don't think just because you see something highlighted a lot that it's the most common thing that's so dumb. How many mixed people do you think you see that you assume aren't mixed? There's confirmation bias at play.

I just wish I could beam this message into everyone's thick fucking skulls. Dark skin is beautiful. My number one coloring tip for any artist is this: don't be afraid to go too dark. You'll ruin the contrast and legibility and dynamic if you keep everything light and mid tones.

If you go too dark, you can filter it later.

I hate the argument "there are plenty of mixed people who dadadadada" stop. there are such a variety of people in numbers you literally cannot fathom with your human brain. You cannot picture all of the people that look exactly like whatever it is you're saying is more uncommon. Race is made the fuck up but its impact and cultural significance is real as hell. Genetics are so fucking diverse. I know a biologically related pair of siblings, one super tall dark skinned black dude and one super short freckled white girl, they have the same parents you cannot tell that they are related if you're thinking that mixed race children are like taking the skin tones and mixing them like paint.

Colorism is physically dangerous. People will assume that a mixed race child is being kidnapped by their parent because they so look different to them.

Damian could look the spitting image of Talia, I can tell you that with 100% certainty. He also could look the spitting image of Bruce, or Thomas Wayne, or Martha, or Ra's. All we know is that he's Arab, Chinese and white, he has black hair and green eyes, and he's short and good looking. Taking that and making the most european looking version of that guy as possible is fucking racist. I'm so serious.

If you want to do your part to combat racism and make a society where everyone can get attention and be seen as beautiful regardless of skin tone, then draw Damian with dark skin.

If you don't want to do that.... I don't understand you. Learn empathy, it will be useful to you.

#battle of the super sons #damian wayne #damian al ghul wayne #text post #jonathan samuel kent #jon kent #super sons #supersons #dc comics #damian al ghul #remember how i said i didn't come on here to rant about colorism “yet”? well the time has come #it will not be the last time im sure. i care about this a lot #batfam #batman

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