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#the last hours fanfiction

vwritesaus · 4 months

Text

Thomas drops a handful of broken timber planks onto the ground with a sigh. Sweat pools at the back of his neck and at his hairline, ice cold against his skin. The sun has decided not to make itself present today, hiding behind dour, blackened clouds that promise a frigid, windy afternoon. Not that it bothers him in the slightest. Thomas prefers to be out at the Institute, sorting through debris in a cracked, stained courtyard in poor weather than sitting around doing nothing at all. After all, sitting around doing nothing at all gives way to dangerous thoughts barging into his head, ones he doesn’t want to think about lest they crush his soul more than it already has been. No, it is better to be productive. Better to be busy. Better to be surrounded by people he knows and loves than to be at home alone. His family is out for the day, Eugenia in search of a new set of embroidery needles, and Alastair—the one whom Thomas wants to see more than anyone else when his mind is like this—is babysitting Zachary in Kensington. As per the letter he’d gotten yesterday, Thomas has been invited to see them later on in the day, but the gap between the morning and the afternoon is a long time, indeed. So when James and Matthew’s fire message came to him that morning requesting (namely, begging) his assistance with cleaning up, Thomas rushed out of his home in Golders Green without a backward glance. At the present moment, both Matthew and James are kicking at loose rock and dry leaves in the distance. The trees bordering the London streets and the Institute seem to have dumped all their broken branches into the courtyard, creating a crooked, spiny cemetery circled by dust and dirt and withered foliage. Shattered roof tiles, odd riff-raff from horse-drawn carriages, ripped shop awnings and jagged pieces from window panes, and general rubble and dirt make up the rest of the unfortunate picture. But Thomas finds himself really not caring about the mammoth clean-up task left to the Shadowhunters of the London Enclave. It’s easier not to care, he’s found. It helps with this evidently everlasting numbness. He turns his attention to the handful of broken planks he’s dumped onto the ground and forces himself to count each individual ringed spot and dark-stained grain. Focus. He must focus—

continue reading on ao3

SO.

i know it's been AGES since i posted the first chapter of this fic (and, indeed, any fic....) and all i can i say is that the work/life balance this year hasn't been kind to me in the slightest :')

but!!! we're finally here, and the other chapters are getting there... slowly lol

i hope you all had a lovely holiday break and are looking forward to the new year (i know i am, good grief). hope you enjoy this chapter !!

tag list: @drunkonimagination @astriefer @ferrari-go-vroom-vroom @alastairstom @what-ho-christopher-put-in @thomastaircompassrose @faithfromanewperspective (thought you might be interested, but no pressure!!) let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

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thrxughthenxght · 9 months

Note

You said to give you requests so here I am!

"Are we flirting?" "That's up to you." For gracetopher??

Lock & Key

Prompt: "Are we flirting?" "That's up to you."

Words: 1568

Thank you so much for this Bella!! I really like how this turned out and it's just in time for gracetopher week day 7 🤗 Thank you!

Also I haven't read CoT at all so forgive me if this isn't canon compliant. I did my best to be semi-canon. Let me know if you'd like to be on my taglist!

If Christopher wasn’t with his family or his friends he was with Grace. They were walking outside or reading in the library, but most of the time they were in Christopher’s lab, Grace preferring his home to the Fairchild household. Christopher missed the supplies Henry had but he had decent enough items in his lab, and he preferred Grace comfortable. Grace was often tense around other people, even if he tried to assure her all was well. She was quick to jump and fidget and twice she had been the first to exit a room if something startled her, always ready to exit. Now, in the light of the candles on the walls, he noticed the change in her edge.

Her shoulders were relaxed as she measured, and her knees were bent in front of her, her feet resting on the highest run of the stool she sat on. She lacked a corset so could slouch, when usually she was rigid like a log. Her hair was tied upon her head, a few bright strands falling from the hastily done updo. She wore the smallest pair of goggles he could find, and they framed her icy eyes, letting the light illuminate the iris'. Her lips were pressed in a hard line, a slight squint to her features in the thinning of her eyes and wrinkles of her nose. She was deep in thought with that face, and Christopher was both shocked and mortified when she suddenly looked up.

She raised an eyebrow at his staring, and he turned away. "Apol-apologies," he murmured softly, trying to focus on his notes. "You were very focused."

The goggles made a soft noise when the leather scraped the wood. She walked over to him, peering over his arm at the notes. "You're allowed to look at me," she said. "You're not the type to hurt a woman because you find her attractive."

"I wouldn't- I, um-" he sputtered for a moment, tripping over words as he did his own feet when he stepped backwards. He fell on all fours, his rear hitting the stone floor and a grunt flying from his mouth, cutting off his scramble for a response. They stared at each other for a few long moments, then Grace quickly turned away and covered her mouth. Christopher shot up, dusting himself off in the few steps it took him to get over to her. His hand hovered over her shoulder. "Did I startle you? I'm sorry-" Her shoulders started to shake gently and when she looked up he saw the crinkle by her eyes, but no tears. He furrowed his brow. "Are you... Are you laughing or crying? Because I'm not quite sure."

She let her hand fall, and a wide grin was on her face as she laughed gently. He started to lower his hand, relieved he hadn't upset her. He knew she was sensitive to sudden things, whether it be words or movements or memories. He smiled when her laugh got louder, and simply stood and watched her attempt to compose herself. "You fell," she giggled. "Am I truly that frightening?"

He crossed his arms and tried to further straighten his spine. "Grace Blackthorn, you are terrifying."

She smiled. "I'm just a woman."

"And a brilliant one at that."

She shifted to lean on the desk, smiling softer now, but it was close to something mischievous. "Am I not seductive enough for you?"

"That is not a part of your danger."

"No?"

"No. Some people can be seduced. Everyone can be outsmarted."

She smiled. "Well, then I guess we're very dangerous people."

"Indeed." For a moment it was silent, and Christopher cleared his throat. He shifted and broke his stance, looking down before meeting her soft, thunderous eyes. "Is this flirting?"

She shrugged and crossed her arms, tilting her head at him. More of her hair fell to the side. "It could be."

"Are we flirting?"

"That's up to you."

He stood still, trying to understand what she wanted him to do. It occurred to him that many times she had stated she trusted him, but he didn't want to break that trust. Grace was also a person he could spend him time with that involved his primary joys and interests. He loved his friends but he felt best alone with Grace in his lab, their lab. He wanted Grace to be... something, anything. Not to be his but to be theirs. He wanted everything to be theirs. His heart, her strength, his intelligence, her brilliance. He wanted them to be something beyond a friendship but he'd simply never had that before and it was frightening for him. All of Grace's experiences with such things were part of the reason she did not believe in herself or other people, and that scared Christopher most of all. He couldn't bear to be another man on the list of those who wanted her only to hurt her in some way.

"I think-" he snapped his mouth shut, correcting himself. He said he "thought" things far too often when he did in fact know things. "I would like us to be flirting."

She grinned. "So would I."

He lifted his hands gently, as though she could hand him answers. It would be much simpler that way. "What happens now?"

"Well," she said softly, pushing herself off the desk and walking to him until their chests were barely an inch apart. "I would be alright if you wanted to kiss me. Or... touch me, I suppose."

He shook his head. "You want me to do something?"

"Do you not want to?"

"I am frightened to."

She nodded, but her smile was never gone, just a little flicker of light to guide his lips to hers. It was gentle, just a small peck on each other's lips, but it was enough to make Christopher's face warm. She drew back by falling off her toes to her heels and opened her eyes. He blinked for a moment, then started to pull at his sleeve.

"Kiss me again?" She nodded, and he saw a light pink pulling at the snowy complexion of her face.

With another push to her toes she connected their lips again, but this time it was longer. His heart thumped, and another part of his anatomy wanted to join in but he wouldn't allow anything to ruin this; This rush of emotion and immense joy he felt now that he knew Grace wanted him in what was hopefully a similar sort of affection. He could only trust his brain and Grace at the moment, and when his brain slowed that trust fell to solely Grace, but he was quick to trust her to lead him wherever his heart desired. Sometimes it seemed she knew him better than he did. He had seen Matthew kiss girls before, had seen James kiss Cordelia, but he didn't want to do anything James might have done and he didn't fully trust Matthew to be his romantic guide. Instead of wrapping his arms around her he simply rested his hands on her arms, pulling her gently to him and leaning his head down so she didn't have to reach for his lips. Their chests pressed together, and she wrapped her arms around his forearms in return, much like a lock and key clicking into place.

They drew away from each other, and Grace relaxed against him, placing her head on his chest. He stiffened, but took a deep breath when she placed a hand over his heart. "Are you alright?"

She asked, turning her head and looking up at him. He frowned. "Me? I'm fine. Are you?"

She smiled gently. "More than fine, Christopher. I'm very happy."

His smile was quick and light, and he put a gentle kiss to her head, making sure to lean slowly in the event she wasn't happy with the action."I'm glad. I am not one for romance, but," he shook his head, "I have never met someone so wonderful."

She ran her other hand along his arm in soothing lines. "And I have never wanted to love someone so much."

"You could love me?"

"Anyone could love you."

He adjusted his glasses. "I'm not quite sure."

She shook her head. "I know it."

"Then love me."

She laughed gently. "It's not so simple."

"Do you understand love, then?"

"Not in the slightest. Though," she glanced down at the hand that ran the length of his arm. "I'm sure it's like an equation. You need multiple components and some time, then everything will fall into place."

He smiled. "That sounds quite nice."

"Then maybe we should work on it," she looked back up, her gaze so gentle he wanted to hold her closer. "Together."

Together was all it would take, just like many of their experiments. They could go through everything step by step, hand in hand, double checking and erasing their mistakes to make it right. They would figure out how to love, how to be together, as one. That seemed the perfect thing to him, two parts of a whole. One mind and one heart split into two people. That was how they could love, in small pieces they would eventually pick up and fit back together. It was as simple as a lock and a key, with the same hidden depths and perfect unison.

He nodded. "Together."

••••••••••••••••••••••

@iammadeofmemoriesforlife @grace-lightwoodd

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laylax13s · 1 year

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Precious

chapter 2 : I Gotta Get Out Of Here

TW/CW: child @bus3, @lc0h0l @bus3, t0x!c relationship, emotional @buse

“Your hair is growin out again-” Elias said with floppy words, already slipping away mid-sentence, passing out. Alastair quickly grabbed his shirt and reached under his arm to stop him from falling to the ground.

They were behind a bar in Kensington, not so far from Cornwall Gardens. It was around midnight, taking Alastair two hours to find his father. A man passed by them, not even stopping for a minute to ask if everything is okay, Alastair glared at him. Not like he would let the stranger help though, since they had to hide it, keep it a secret from the world. It was not fair, he thought, but it was what it was.

He let go of Elias for a second to get a bucket of cold water from the bar. He then poured the water on the man, gathering all his self-control not to throw the bucket on him as well. He woke up all of a sudden, glaring at his son. They just glared at each other like that for a few seconds before Alastair said, “Stand up.”. Elias held his chin up high, still laying on the ground, unable to put his pride away even for a second. Alastair sighed and held his hand out for his father. The man seemed to be thinking about it for a second, but eventually let the boy help him up. The latter practically dragged him over the hidden alleys of Kensington so that no one would see them.

Once they arrived home, he helped Elias on to a couch, and left to the kitchen. There were some wine bottles there left, he didn’t know how Cordelia didn’t notice it.

When he finished, he checked once more if his father was sleeping, then went to his room. He didn’t rest though, he changed clothes and walked out into the cold night again.

------

Once he was at the Fairchild manor, he checked his pocket watch, it was 01:23. Charles should be here in any minute now. Just with that thought, the red-haired man appeared at the door, looking around, then settling his eyes on Alastair. The latter’s heart skipped a beat at that, but then he reminded himself he is not here to stand and stare so he gave a huge jump over the fence and landed stably on the other side. He straightened up and walked over to the entrance. Charles opened the door for him, quickly closing it after them. The silence surrounding them was uncomfortable, simply being here was uncomfortable for Alastair, he hated it when he came over to Charles and not the other way around.

The mentioned led him into the drawing room, as always. As soon as they were inside and Alastair took his coat off, Charles grabbed his collar to drag him closer and kissed him. Alastair opened his mouth and brought his hands up to pull Charles even closer, deepening the kiss. The latter started towards the couch, dragging the other along. Alastair laid down on it, pulling Charles on top of him and starting to unbutton his waistcoat, still not breaking the kiss.

When they finally broke away, neither of them had any clothing on.

“I love you,” Alastair murmured. Charles did not reply, instead kissed him again.

------

After a few hours (Charles didn’t even have to say it anymore), Alastair dressed up and left. It was still only 4 am, everyone still asleep, the moon high on the sky. After taking a deep breath, he was already on his way back to Cornwall Gardens.

When in his room, he finally could flop down on his bed and take a small rest. But even after about half an hour, sleep wouldn’t come to him. He groaned in frustration, and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He decided it was best to change clothes and get ready for the new day.

He chose to wear black trousers with a white shirt and wine-red waistcoat, it will match perfectly with his mahogany-red coat. That was when he heard a knock on his door, again. Who might be awake in these hours?

He walked to the door to open it, with a frown. To his not such big surprise, Risa stood in front of it.

“Did you get home safely?” the woman asked in Farsi. He nodded,

“Yes, thank you for asking.” he answered in the same language. Risa nodded too,

“Good; I made you Adasi. It’s waiting for you downstairs.” she said and turned around to leave. Risa woke up every morning to check if Alastair was alright, she knew about his nightly “adventures”.

After having breakfast, it was time for daily patrol. He got assigned to Anna Lightwood, great, he thought and rolled his eyes.

Anna was twenty minutes late, not even apologizing. Typical conceited rich white child, he thought, just like Matthew Fairchild. They started walking, though when he confronted her, “You are twenty minutes late.” the only thing she said was,

“Only fashionable, of course.” Annoying little twit-

“So how are you and Fairchild, the elder one?” she said, completely out of the blue. Alastair was startled, and immediately stopped walking.

“Pardon?” he asked, acting as if nothing happened. Anna gave him a smile of success (in what though?),

“Do you mean “Pardon” as if you want me to repeat my question, or “Pardon” as if you are too startled that I confronted you that you don’t know what else to say?” asked, even though they both knew the answer to that question. Alastair glared at her,

“I mean it as if you wouldn’t know the meaning of privacy.” he hissed sharply. Anna hummed, shrugging, and continuing the walk. Alastair sucked in a breath and followed her.

“Reasonable,” she said, “Then again, I do have something to do with it since the younger Fairchild brother, is my best friend, of course.” Enough was enough. He stopped again, this time talking in a way harder and stronger voice.

“You and your little “circus” have nothing to do with me and my life, so stay out of it!” he ordered. Now Anna realized it was best if she didn’t try to get gossip out of him, or even try with small talk.

The day went away slowly, and boringly (as most times), but it did go away. Once the sun wasn’t visible anymore, he nodded to Anna as a farewell, and started his way home. No demons today, either. London was a boring city, with boring people, who had either scandalous lives or no life at all. There were two categories: The first one being the one full of idiotic children who thought they knew everything about life and thought everything was so easy and that they were the main characters in a book, the other category were the more mature ones who decided to sell their soles to politics and live in secret. For example, Charles. He was a promising man, with a seemingly perfect life, the only problem was he had a fake bride and he was secretly gay and had a secret lover who was also a man. For another example, Matthew. He was a little brainless inept child, who thought he can solve all the problem in the world by drinking away his money and wasting his life for love and other drugs while giving away all the opportunity of becoming something by being open about his sexuality. And these were brothers, ironic, isn’t it?

He didn’t even realize but he got home somehow. When walking inside, the first thing to do was check on his sister. That was when he realized, Layla wasn’t home.

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

end notes : I made this with @thelasthours-alastair

Taglist : @melanielocke @astriefer @life-through-the-eyes-of @all-for-the-fanfiction @thelasthours-alastair @lightstairs1902 @mariiaarranz @unpaididiot @punk-with-trauma @cityofthomastair5

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #charles fairchild #anti charles fairchild #thomas and alastair #alastair x thomas #thomastair #thomastairs #thomastair fanfiction #thomastair fanfic #the last hours #the last hours fanfiction #tlh fanfiction #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie x Cordelia #tw abuse #tw alcoholism

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vashs-posts · 2 years

Text

An afternoon in the lab

hi!! this is the first fan fiction I have written. Do give me feedback if you read this. Do tell me if I have grammatical errors too since English isn't my first language

characters: Grace Blackthorn and Christopher lightwood from The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare

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Christopher rarely felt this energised after a session of training. Usually, it exhausted him quite a bit, as he wasn’t the fit sort. But this day, kit was really excited- as he finally had a sample of ichor from an iadelon demon and he wanted to run some tests on it.

He skipped towards the winding stairs that led to uncle Henry’s laboratory when he heard aunt charlotte call out “kit is that you?” from the other room.

“Yes aunt charlotte it’s me” he replied cheerily.

“alright then, Henry and I are leaving for an enclave meeting, try not to blow anything up this time” she told him kindly.

“yeah thank you- I’ll try not to aunt charlotte” he replied with a smile to himself. He really liked aunt charlotte. One because she let him dally about her house whenever he pleased to the point of allowing him to use Matthew's room as a resting place, and two- she never objected to his curiosity and interest in science- as long as he didn’t blow up the place; which he, unfortunately, did a lot. He liked how she always encouraged uncle Henry’s genius pursuits.

As he climbed the stairs he thought that although a partner's encouragement in the sciences was always good, he always craved for his partner in life to be his partner in science too. Like Marie and Pierre Curie. His mind shifted to grace blackthorn, which he thought was odd since they weren’t very well acquainted. He suspected that she was interested in science like he was. perhaps he should ask her to be his lab partner? But he didn't know if she would agree to that, after all, she used to be close to James- and James never had a keen interest in kit’s many experiments. Besides, he thought, she must have been going through a lot. He knew that her mother had been sent to the citadel and that she probably was in no headspace to be courted- not that kit was good at courting girls in the first place. Kit barely knew how to talk to people, let alone court them.

as he reached the bottom of the staircase he turned to enter the laboratory when he saw a shadow sitting near the Venturi meters. The figure was familiar- short frame, and hair the colour of platinum which glowed like the moon. He saw that she was staring at the ticking pendulum of the grand clock across the lab from her. She looked like she had been crying

He quickly hid behind the door. Did him thinking about her bring her to the lab? He had read a few books on psychic abilities, was that what was happening? “No,” he thought, those claims didn’t have sufficient scientific backing. Then what was grace doing here? And why had she been crying?

—

Grace has no idea why she asked for the carriage to go to James’s Parabatai’s place. She still had no idea why, as she slipped into the back entrance and went to the lab. James had to leave with his family to search for Lucy, so he had let her leave Curzon street on the condition that they would report everything to the clave when he got back. After that, she made her way back to the Bridgestock’s residence. Now it was a few days later, and Grace was at the consul's house.

But she hadn’t gone there to see Ms Fairchild, she was sure of it. She entered the laboratory and sat directly across the vast wooden clock. Its steady ticks rang across the room. Tick-tock. Tick tock.

As if on cue, tears slipped from her eyes. She didn’t know why she was crying, or rather for what exact thing-out of everything- in particular she was crying about. Her mother always told her she was a stupid, weak child, and now she was crying like one.

She heard the door swing open slowly and quickly rubbed off her tears and straightened her skirts. it was Christopher. He looked at her curiosity with his beautiful violet eyes. He looked concerned. He was gnawing at his lip and was restlessly pushing the door open.

“Er- grace is that you?” he said softly.

Why had she come here? How could she explain this to him? He probably thought that she had lost her mind.

“Christopher! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right away if you’re busy- I was passing by and er- I wanted something from you- um do you have any dried lavender extract?”

Dried lavender extract? she thought cringing a little bit at his puzzled expression. Surely he knew that she could make it from the Bridgestock gardens and didn’t have to come all the way here for it. But she couldn’t help it, lavender was the first thing she thought of after seeing those bright eyes of his.

“yeah! yeah- I could give that to you by tomorrow!” he said brightly.

“Thank you, Christopher,” grace said. She could feel her cheeks hot with embarrassment as he stared at her with a small smile. The ticks of the clock were louder than ever now. She turned to look at it, to avoid making a bigger fool of herself.

“I always liked the way clocks ticked. Like with a steady frequency, you know?” Christopher told her, breaking the silence. Then he started tapping the table with his long scarred finger and matched the frequency to the clock. She didn’t know why, but she started tapping to it too.

“Ah! Look we’re in resonance!” He said and beamed at her. Then he looked away a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, this might be a little uninteresting to you” he said shyly.

“No! It’s not” she said, adding “I read somewhere that resonance is when the amplitude increases because of matching frequencies. The book said that with very loud sounds- you could break windows. Is that true?”

Christopher stared at her. and then he smiled his perfect, cat like smile.

“maybe, I’ve never tried it! We ought to try it sometime don’t you think? I mean I don’t think aunt charlotte would appreciate that too much because the windows might break- but what is that small damage in the grand scheme of things?” He told her excitedly.

“Anyways, I wanted to run some tests on iadelon ichor. Er-if you’re not occupied elsewhere, would you like to help me?” He asked, as his fingers fluttered a little in his pocket.

Grace liked how Christopher didn’t think she was uneducated just because she was a woman. She liked how he viewed her as an equal. And somehow he made her forget all of her worries.

“Sure.” Said grace “as long as I get to blow some things up.- if it comes to it!”

and Christopher beamed at her again, brighter than the unusual London summer rays falling in through the window that day

And slowly they fell into a routine. Both of them took turns running the experiments, with matching goggles and smocks to protect their eyes and clothes. Grace ran some preliminary tests, while kit scratched away in his books. A couple of times the samples of ichor boiled out of the test tube, or exploded into a huge fire- but overall the tests went rather smoothly.

Kit found that he worked well with Grace, and she was extremely smart too. When the ichor reacted with concentrated sulphuric acid, it had become a huge fire- and he and Grace had to put it out quickly before it burnt them and the lab. He had looked worriedly at Grace then, to see that she was smiling- and then they both were smiling and giggling over their blunder.

He liked her company, he liked how she chewed the back of her pen as she took down the observations, or how she furrowed her brow while calculating the density of the ichor.

By the time they both were done, the clock chimed to indicate that it was 3:30pm. Grace looked at him with a small smile. “Do you want to go out into the garden for a while? I don’t think this much time with ichor is good for us” she said

“Yeah sure!” he told her as he followed her into the garden. A few silver strands of hair had escaped her bun and he had the urge to put it back in place. he didn’t know why he had that urge. Her hair was beautiful, as the rest of her was. She was more beautiful in her smock and goggles too. Kit never understood fashion, but right now it confused him the most. Why wear expensive dresses when you were beautiful in anything? He was suddenly self-conscious about his rattled appearance and stained clothes.

They had reached the garden. Aunt charlotte’s cook had laid out tea for them after seeing them. The birds were fluttering, and the Sun-rays were falling on Grace’s small face. Her hair was reflecting some of the light- and she looked radiant.

“Do you know why the sky is blue?” she asked him. He did know, but he wanted her to keep talking, so he didn’t respond.

“It’s because of Raleigh’s scattering. the light of colours with a wavelength less than blue gets scattered off, while the blue light passes though” she said and looked at him. “Interesting isn’t it?”

“It is interesting.” He told her and leaned back against the chair to look up at the sky. all this talk about wavelength and frequency made kit’s mind wander to all the books and papers he had read about them. He and uncle Henry had spent so much time on documents about light and energy, and he knew many things about frequencies and wavelengths. But the fact that was the most obvious of all, was that Grace Blackthorn for some odd reason matched his frequency perfectly. They were the perfect resonance.

he suddenly sat up. She was steering sugar in her tea and looking at him with a half-smile. He picked up his teacup too and asked her

“Have you heard of the Curies?”

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

by vash

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slashmagpie · 7 months

Text

Scar has had a day.

A fun day, certainly! He would never say that he didn’t have fun. That would be a lie, and Scar is not a liar. (A schemer, a swindler, yes, but a liar? Why, he’d never!) But several hours of running Decked Out, one near-death-experience after another, has him shaking all over. He’s sweating in places he didn’t even know he could sweat, and his heart is pounding even faster against his ribcage than the dungeon’s at max clank.

But he had fun, and he’s achieved his goal of two new cards and a victory tome, so he’s about ready to head home to Scarland for some nice relaxing time—

There is something in the hallway with him.

The hair on the back of Scar’s neck prickles, and he can feel the ravager’s breath against his skin, a sudden rush of hot air in the otherwise frozen crypts. He feels his body freeze, lungs ceasing to function without permission, and he needs to run, needs to flee, he’s going to lose—

“You got lucky at the end there. When you were leaving? There was a ravager coming at you across the thing—”

“Oh gosh!” Scar stumbles backwards, heart in his throat, looking up at Tango as he approaches Scar and his shulker deck across the hall. His words spill out of him so fast he stumbles over the sounds, and Tango stops, staring, as Scar nearly keels over backwards from fright. “Jeez, Tango, oh my gosh, I thought you were a ravager, I’m a little still paranoid, it’s been a—a captivating day—”

Scar’s back hits the blackstone rim of the door behind him, and the sudden terror he’d felt at Tango’s presence suddenly vanishes, leaving him sagging against the wall. Tango blinks owlishly, looking around the dungeon like he’s missed something.

“H-Hi? Do I…?” Tango looks down at himself, like he’s expecting to see something different, like he might suddenly be a beast with shaggy grey fur and deadly horns, and not a Tango in his frosty blue robes. A laugh wheezes its way out of Scar as the relief turns into an odd sort of dizziness. He feels a little sick. “Wow. Scar? You okay…?”

Scar pulls himself out of the corner, towards his friend, because Tango is his friend, and he’s just—he’s just Tango. Not a ravager, or any other kind of danger, just Tango, who’s spent the last thirteen months making this amazing game for all of the hermits, and who Scar is not scared of.

“Y-Y-You get heightened tension, right, when you play? It’s crazy, like—”

“You are on edge,” Tango tells him with a laugh, and Scar laughs along.

“I was on edge!” he agrees, opening his shulker once again so that he can avoid Tango’s gaze. There’s something about his eyes that are just—Scar doesn’t know. He’s not afraid of Tango. Why would he be afraid of Tango?

“Rarr,” Tango jokes, the worst ravager impression in the world, bearing his teeth and raising his hands like claws, and Scar does not jump. “And stuff.”

…Everything is fine, and normal, and Scar just needs—needs to go back to Scarland. And relax. Because his heart is beating too fast, and he’s played a lot of Decked Out, and he’s had a lot of fun, but he’s jumping at shadows, and at Tangos, and that—that simply won’t do.

(And he does not entertain the notion, not even a slightest bit, that maybe it’s not just him—that maybe there is something going on with Tango—because, really, it’s just Tango. Come on.)

#hermitcraft #tangotek #goodtimeswithscar #fanfiction #yes i know it's been like 26 hours since i posted my last DO2 ficlet shhh #i was busy last week i'm catching up on tango's streams and slowly losing it!#the brainrot is strong #dialogue taken from tango's wednesday stream last week #is this connected to the last one i wrote? idk maybe you decide #magpie feather quill

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

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Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.

"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.

Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.

Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.

He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.

His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.

Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.

"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.

Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.

Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.

Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.

He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.

Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.

----

Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.

Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.

That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.

Back to that hero.

-----

Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.

Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #abo #everyone is confused and no one has answers #i would however like some slowburn romance #whichever bat you choose is going to get teased forever for running up to some random meta and biting the crap outta them #i tricked yall into reading an abo prompt didnt i?#i slept little over an hour last night so i woke up choosing violence #its been a very bad day #the store didnt have a lot of the stuff i needed to buy and on the walk home i saw an older kitten that looked kinda like my cat get hit #the car didnt even stop. poor thing got hit by the next car too and i just stared and it started raining like a freaking movie moment #tw: animal death #tw for the tags #so i got new trauma today #gonna make that everyone elses problem #a/b/o dynamics #kinda #just wanted to add the tag incase yall have it filtered

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lunitawrites · 27 days

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maybe Joel Miller doesn't know where Jakarta is, but he would sure as hell know where to find my clit

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #my thoughts after sleepong only 3 hours #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #ok bye sorry about this

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wisteriagoesvroom · 3 months

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📚 10 f1 fics i've loved lately 🏎️

been thinking a lot about how to organise fic recs into some sort of sensible post, 'cus there are so many (great!) pairings and (delicious!) driver combinations, not to mention so many varying styles of fic and SUPER TALENTED WRITERS!!111!!

just gonna list a bunch in no particular order, with accompanying pics, so you can get a sense of the vibes.

'cus what is f1 rpf but all about the ✨ vibes?! 🏁

p.s. people are in this community making amazing stuff for freeee!! if you liked these please leave a kudos or a comment, it makes a writer's day 🫡

let's gooooo--

objects in the mirror by linearity (@drivestraight) charles/max. 87k words (series), rated t then e

listen. LISTEN! charles to rbr is one of the best premises ever and i will read it in like a thousand iterations. but this fic. this fic series in particular cleared my skin, made me want to cut my hair into a bob out of sheer emotion. i would be remiss not to start with this one because its impact on my f1 rpf trajectory should be studied by science. you know when a story just jumps off the page and it's so real that it becomes your canon. a kind of meteoric inevitability. plus, i almost never cry at fics. but by the time the third act of this one hit, i just went -- damn, am i rly about to tear up at a f1 rpf fanfiction rn? (yes.)

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sawtooth by nottonyharrison (@nottonyharrison) charles/max. 40k words, rated e

max as a f1 engineer? for CARLOS at FERRARI? sign me the fuckkk up. first off, awesome premise. there's always going to be something so heartwrenching about "what ifs", especially in any universe where max isn't a racer. despite the change of circumstances, just... the sheer poetry of two characters who just inexplicably find their way to each other in any universe... 🤧 also this story nails racing scenes in a way that's so visceral, i feel like a fly on the damn halo with them. and, aside from the gourmet lestappen, carlos's whole thing in this fic is joyous! spicy! he's so unapologetic and vaguely annoying! hilarious! + the swimming pool scene lives rent-free in my head.

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salt skin by peachbellini (@strawberry-daiquiris) oscar/lando. 12k words, rated e

this fic is magic. literally and figuratively. (MERMAID LANDO???? MERMAID LANDO.) the kind of story that makes you gasp and melt a little bit. and made me want to throw my phone at the writer, 'cause it's really that good. the yearning, the metaphor for all that's monstrous, a boy who is lost (and the boy who he finds, is equally so). this is just beautifully written and a little quirky and so well executed. i think i put it in my bookmarks as "what if lando was a mermaid and it was filmed by a24" or something. pearl of a story.

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hockey!! shrimp colors :) by leafmeal0ne (@ocontraire) oscar/lando. 13k words, rated t

leaf meal one. i have only known you a week but if anything were to happen to you i would wreck everyone in the room including myself. in all seriousness, anything that leaf writes is brilliant. they're one of these writers who could do a throwaway line on the label of a ketchup bottle and i will probably scream about it. the precision, the way they switch up sentence structures, the freaking darcy-level regency yearning transposed onto a contemporary sports setting. i'd rec all of leaf's sports AUs and i'll probably talk about more in a future fic rec post. BUT. the hockeyyy one my GOD. the barely restrained violence, their mutual desire, the theme of finding your place... *wails uncontrollably*

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you almost unearthly thing by anonymous max/daniel, 3.7k words, rated g

max is a governess(govern..lad?) and daniel is the mystery man at the manor. this was a response to a request i made in the kinkmeme! (if you haven't read those fics go check 'em out, there are so many great ones, and not necessarily all rated e). this is a criminally underrated little story that has my favourite repressed feelings + people dancing around each other + gothic vibes + "what the hell is wrong with y'all in this tale" combo that i really adore. it's really well written and captures the atmosphere so well.

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the so-called narrative by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) oscar/carlos, 10k words, rated e

i'm once again asking why there are only 7 carlos/oscar works in the tag. I'M ONCE AGAIN ASKING-- *is sedated*. *jolts awake* okay but for real this is a great story. hot, fake-friendship-to-situationship which so happens is one of my favourite places to be. also hello miscommunication/they're so weird about it/they both want each other but can't express themselves for shit/insane racer boys energy.

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and silver, and samarium by pink_mink (@on-softs) george/toto, 5.2k words, rated e

i profess i am not usually the biggest fan of A/B/O (altho!! this fandom has made me go BUT ACTUALLY HM at least a few times). and this fic freaking nails it, along with the twisted power dynamics between TPs and drivers, as seen through the lens of omegaverse. this story rattles around my head like a stubborn ghoul just from the style and prose and sheer audacity alone. george kneeling at toto's knees while he's working..... ohhhhhhhhh i was this close to calling my lawyers.

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algorithm by anney (@badboy-george) charles/max, 16k words, rated e

i LOVE, LOOOOVE a sci fi concept alright. love that shit, will inhale it like moon dust with zero regrets. and what a fantastic one this one is!! the premise is that the FIA can now statistically show the compatibility of drivers on the grid and it's very pacific rim-y drift compatible, mixed with the surreal vibes of eternal sunshine or HER or some such. it should be outrageous, but it really works. that's the beauty of a great fic right there.

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trajectory of trojan asteroids by redpaint (@redpaint) nico/lewis, 3.3k words, rated g

also one of the fics i first read when i hopped on board the f1 rpf train. the pain and poignancy just gets worse the more i learn about brocedes. you know when you're like "there's no way this was reallll" and then you're like "fuck, it was so real". then you get a fic like this that just encapsulates all that rage and loss and grief and upset, set against the starry vista of endless space. *clutches tablecloth* god.

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p.s please bear in mind that these recs are entirely subjective! i enjoy loads of f1 stories but these are the ones that have especially stuck with me for some inexplicable reason.

p.p.s if your fic is on here and you want it taken off for whatever reason, i'm happy to, no questions asked 💛

BYE for now / until part 2. (i also love talking to ppl about fics so pls feel free to send an ask or hit me up in DMs or whatever.)

xoxo, -- wizz

#f1 fic rec #f1 fanfiction #lestappen #landoscar #maxiel #groto #brocedes #f1 rpf fic #i don't know that carlos/oscar have a ship name yet?#sainztri?#Carloscar #f1 rpf #wisteria recs #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #did i spend a full hour at work doing this last week instead of my actual work?#yes -- very yes

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eldritch-ambrosia · 4 months

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“What?” Merlin finally asks, his voice dripping with annoyance from across the king’s chambers.

Arthur fumbles with his parchments, averting his gaze and raising his eyebrow at a page that was most certainly not upside down, heat rushing to his cheeks,

“Hm?”

“Arthur!” He says warningly.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well then, stop watching me!” Merlin rolls his eyes, leaning back down to grab for the sponge he had thrown in his frustration. “I’m doing my job, aren’t I?”

Arthur scoffs. “I’m not-”

“I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my skull, you prick.”

He wavers.

“I’m just… thinking.”

“Oh well don’t hurt yourself,” Merlin grumbles, scrubbing a particular part of the chamber floor harder. A wine stain that they both know won’t come off clean, from years prior, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. Trying to clean or trying to annoy Arthur though, he couldn’t really be sure.

He finally sighs, tossing the sponge back into the bucket, and stretching out his back. “What are you thinking about?”

He considers not answering. He’s the king, he can demand anything he wants from his servants, including leaving him the hell alone. Though that didn’t usually seem to work with Merlin and there were some conversations he couldn’t avoid forever.

“Why didn’t you accept the position on the council?”

Merlin turns to him fully now, head tilted in confusion. “What?”

“You could be in your own chambers right now. Large, lavish chambers,” he emphasizes, placing his parchment back down. “Dining and drinking wine and preparing for bed. Instead of… this.”

“My knees are getting a bit worn for this part, to be honest.” He says, standing and curving his back slightly, the crack of his bones echoing awkwardly through the chamber. “But I couldn’t do that to whatever poor fool would end up getting this job instead. I wouldn’t want to punish someone with your dirty socks and poor habits.”

“Hey-!”

“And then who would help Gaius? I am still his assistant, even if you seem to forget that. You’re telling me that you want Gaius to train someone entirely new to take over after him?” He crosses his arms, tutting disappointedly. “I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. It was just like him to throw off a serious question about himself with some long winded complaining or stabbing at Arthur’s character.

Now, though, he knew why.

Merlin shrugs, drying off his hands with a spare cloth, his eyes scanning the room. He always did this before it was time to get Arthur ready for bed, a final once over of a job mostly well done.

“You asked.”

“Because I wanted an honest answer. Not your usual prattle.”

“I am being honest.” Merlin insists, though his voice wavers.

Sighing, Arthur finally pushes forward. “Is it because you want to stay by my side? Because you and I can’t be parted?”

“What?” His head jerks, his knuckles gripping the cloth tighter.

“If that is the reason, we can still be together when you’re a council member! Hell, you’ll be a nobleman so you can stay near me without having to serve. Get off your feet for a while.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Arthur.”

“I know, Merlin.” He says gently, standing. “I know.”

Merlin’s eyes are wide as he swallows hard, and Arthur is sure he can see him shaking. “I don’t-” His voice cracks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s okay,” Arthur says, approaching his servant as if he were an anxious cat and not his closest friend. “I heard you and Lancelot talking in the training room a few weeks ago.”

He considers what Arthur’s said, his eyes darting back and forth before they settle on the king. “And you’re just… fine with it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say fine with it. I wish you’d have told me, at the very least.” He stops, only a few feet in front of the other man. “But, I suppose, yes. I’ve thought a lot about it and I don’t think we should be parted either.”

“Really?” He asks, blinking owlishly.

Arthur nods, reaching a hand out to his shoulder. “I want you by my side, Merlin. Whether that’s as my servant or as my advisor, you will always be the person I turn to first.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, though his eyes are still shining. “I don’t want you to do this just because you feel bad. And what would the other advisors say? And the knights?”

“They’ll have to go through me then. And I don’t think making an enemy of the King of Camelot will really go well for them. Do you?”

“An enemy?” Merlin smiles and Arthur feels his whole body sigh in relief. “Do you really mean that?”

“I do.” A pause hangs between them, a familiar and comfortable silence. Merlin brings his hand up to Arthur’s, gently holding onto where the king’s hand rests on his shoulder, and Arthur can’t help but think that to stay here, in this moment, would bring him utter peace.

He’d never admit that, not to Merlin, or anyone else for that matter, but he could accept it for himself and that would be enough.

“Is, um, there anything I have to do to… move forward?”

“For your job, not at all. I’ll take care of everything.” Merlin nods, grinning softly. “But for us, can you tell me? I don’t want to know just from overhearing you and Lancelot. I want you to tell me the truth. Please.”

Merlin’s grin widens, his grasp on Arthur’s wrist tightening. “Okay. Let me just…” And he leans forward, tilting his head down ever so slightly, pressing his lips to a startled Arthur’s.

The king freezes, heat rushing to his face, and he can feel his chest tightening as Merlin pulls back.

“I love you,” Merlin murmurs in the air between them and Arthur can see it in his eyes. Which means that Merlin can see the absolute shock in his in return. Merlin’s face falls. “What?”

“You… what?”

“I… You said you knew!” Merlin accuses, attempting to pull back but Arthur’s grip on his shoulder tightens. “You shouldn’t be… I mean, you know that! Obviously, you know that, right? Why else would you have said all that?”

Arthur’s red in the face, sputtering and feeling like an absolute idiot. “I know about your magic, Merlin! I had no idea-”

“My what?!”

~~~

I know it's been done before but I'm a sucker for this trope. The only way I'm okay with miscommunication. Whatever you think happens next, it absolutely does :)

Hoping to write more Merlin blurbs to motivate me to finish my multichapter fics because writer's block is a bitch.

#bbc merlin #bbc merthur #merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #fanfiction #writing #my writing #blurb #writing blurb #writing prompt #I spent the last hour of my birthday writing Merthur #seems on brand #also i had to stop in the middle because I kept thinking about Gwaine lol #writing practice #Merlin goes through an absolute rollercoaster of emotions during this

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vwritesaus · 9 months

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The first thing Thomas notices is that he is standing in a well-lit room. Sunlight streams in through large arched windows, casting long rays along the floor and opposite walls from which framed paintings hang. He can’t make out any of the faces, most of them blurred or faded from age, but he can see every miniature groove in the elaborate frames carved with fleurs-de-lis, tiny leaves and rose petals. The second thing he notices is Alastair Carstairs sitting sideways on one of the window seats of those arched windows, his back leaning against the edge of the arch and one foot planted firmly on the seat, the toes of the other grazing the wooden flooring. His attention is fixed on the world beyond the glass panes—a streaked mass of fluffy clouds and a blue sky stretching for miles—and his expression is contemplative, almost serious. That attention quickly turns to Thomas, possibly having sensed his presence, and something close to coyness blooms to life in his expression. ‘Lightwood,’ he greets politely. When Thomas blinks and doesn’t respond—too shocked to do so, because Alastair Carstairs is talking to him? To Tiny Tom, willingly?—Alastair rolls his eyes. He swings his whole body around to face him, both feet on the floor and his gaze fierce. ‘Well?’ he prods. ‘Are you simply going to stand there like a cad, or are you going to come here and sit beside me?’

continue reading on ao3

hello!! long time no see, haha...

but here i am, and i bring with me a little fic i wrote for my wonderful best girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨✨ it's based off this art of hers where thomas dreams of kissing alastair, only to get rather the rude awakening lol. hope you enjoy it!!

tagging people who might be interested: @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone @ferrari-go-vroom-vroom @astriefer @luciehercndale @claritywithclary @bluewrite

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

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shhh-secret-time · 2 months

Note

is me again hiiiii:•)

you don't have to do it right away, but the sp writing fandom is pretty busy with irl stuff from what i can see and i'm literally dying of withdrawals from no lovesick-idiot mccormick like its such a vital need for me to be alive. suave kenny is great, but STUPIDLY red-faced kenny fumbling a corny pickup line? [SLAMMING THE TABLE]

if you have a crumb of anything at all with kenny being a dummy when it comes to his lover, spare please if you want actually i'm not forcing give it now it's ok 🤲

ALSO HOPE UR DOING OK!!! :•D

- 🪼

Well hi you! I'm glad to see you back! I hope you guys don't mind that I combo'd yours together again! I'm so glad more of you are asking for Kenny! I couldn't resist the "Can't take a compliment to save his life" Kenny. Because same.

Warning: NSFW, Strong Language, Bad Flirting, Praise Kink

Pairing: Kenny x GN!Reader

The way his hair lays across your lap makes it look like little strands of golden thread. Such a peaceful look on his face would make any man jealous. That little thought tickled the front of his brain, how lucky of man he was.

Kenny opens his eyes just a bit, heavy lids beckoning him to close them again. It takes all his willpower not to listen to the sleepy siren song. But how could he even consider that when you look so beautiful.

He takes in every little detail he can. Watching your eyes move across your phone, it's hypnotic. You're not paying attention to him and sometimes he likes it that way. Getting to admire you in peace like this, without you trying to hide the things he loves so much about you.

But sure enough, when you feel his loving eyes on you, you stop and raise a brow down at him. He can't stop the lazy smirk that tugs at his lips. It makes you smile in return and Kenny feels his heart pounding in his chest.

"How's the most beautiful person in South Park feeling?" Kenny purrs up at you.

His flirting makes you chuckle and run your fingers through his hair. It only encourages him, you know that. Just a bit of attention from you and he becomes an addict wanting more and more. All you did was smile and laugh, and he's already pushing for more of that sweet sound.

"I don't know, how is he feeling?" You hum softly as you push the shaggy bangs out of his face.

You have to stifle back another laugh when you see his eyes widen. Even more so when a small blush begins creeping up his neck. He'd be lying to himself and any God that was listening if he thought you were going to shoot back like that. His heart wasn't ready, not by the way it slammed against his chest.

"You're a big flirt Angel. C'mon now, don't upstage me at my own art." He says trying to recover from the little counterattack.

"But Kenneth," Oh the way you say his full name. Even in that playful tone, it would make him stand at attention. "You're the real piece of art here."

And oh, the way your fingers trace down his jawline, like you're trying to memorize all his features on touch alone. Kenny's breath hitches in his throat, hoping that you don't feel the way his face heats up under your touch.

"S-Sweetheart. You're laying in on a little thick."

"Am I? I don’t think I tell you enough."

How can you sit there and tell him something like that so easily? The shade of your eyes holding such a deep passion. You look at him as if he's the most precious thing in the world, like the most devoted would their God.

"I don't think you hear it enough. I love you, Kenny. I love you so very much." You pause for only a moment, "From the way you smile at me with that earnest smile. I know you're trying so hard…even when you're tired, you're smiling and it's so beautiful."

Fuck.

"Oh, and the way you take care of those around you. I could go on for hours about how I adore you for that. You always make sure other people are happy before yourself. That heart of yours is gorgeous."

Fucking shit.

"And the way your eyes light up when you get excited. Oh, it's so cute! Pretty lavender eyes, I get envious when they're not on me. How could I not admire you as art?"

But they are! Always! He wants to tell you that, but the way you speak so softly. The way your voice drops to a whisper, tracing his lips as you speak. He can do nothing but open his mouth in awe. The blush on his face deepens and crawls up to the tip of his ears.

Just as he throws his arm over his eyes, burying his flustered face into the crook of his elbow, you let out a laugh. The sound rings out like a bell, a sound he wants to remember for the rest of his life.

"Kenny, don't hide from me baby~. Please." You know his weakness, a whisper against the shell of his ear in that pleading tone.

Kenny groans and slowly moves his arm away. He's barley able to look you in the eye. The way he tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth tells you everything you need. His face is such a deep red you think his skin is going to be permanently stained by that cherry color. In between nibbling on his bottom lip, the soft pink flesh quivers into a wavy line. From the way his fingers tap against his knuckles you know he wants to pull his hood up and pull the strings to hide his face.

So, you take them in yours and bring them up to your lips, pressing a kiss onto his bruised looking knuckles. You trail your kisses from his knuckles to the palm of his hand where you nuzzle into the warmth.

"And how could I forget these hands. These hands that protect people… these hands that hold me when I need it. The way you touch me with them makes me feel so loved." You hide the little smirk in his palm, watching the way he tries to hide into the side of your thighs.

"I-…I do love you. I love you so much." You think you hear him moan but it's hard to tell from the way his muffled voice barely reaches your ears.

If it was there’s no way you were going to let him hide them from you. You let his hands face go and cup the side of his face. Just like before you bend over and guide his face back towards yours. Your lips brush against his not quite kissing them yet, you want to see if his mind is still working.

Luckily, it still is. Once he registers that you've got your beautiful soft lips on his, he presses into them with a shaky breath. It feels like he can't catch his breath the way the kiss pulls the air out of his lungs. The rhythmic pounding of his heart picking up speed made its way up into his ears. Every time you pulled away traces of mint would make his mind hazy, only for your lips to anchor him right back in.

Kenny's kissed you before, plenty of times he'd ambush you and pepper your faces with an assault of his love. He’s snuck up behind you and dipped you in his arms, placing a passionate kiss before you could even register what was going on. A few times it earned him a smack on the shoulder or a punch but every time it was worth it.

Kenny's kissed you with want and need behind every little press of his lips. Everyone who knew him knew he was a physical lover, expressing admiration in touch. What better way to tell you how badly he craves you than with a long-drawn-out kiss?

Kenny kisses you with a toothache, how sweet you taste moving your lips across his.

He reaches up. His fingers through the locks of your hair, intertwining fingers through them so carefully one would think you were made of glass. His faded lifeline brushes against your chin and settles right on your jaw line.

His lifeline.

You.

"I love you." Kenny repeats himself.

"I love you too." So do you. Sneaking in the affection, weaving it between the kisses that just won't stop.

You can't stop, not when you can feel all the love, he's giving you. Normally it's his tongue that sings your praises. Kenny McCormick gave you all he had and more. He was a well of devotion and how you wanted to just keep pulling from him.

But sometimes you needed to remind him to take his fill. He could take from you more than he does, that it was alright to be a greedy man. That he didn't need to give so much without getting a little in return.

"No other man makes me feel like you do. When my time comes, I'll always remember you Kenny and all that you do." You whisper with that beautiful smile coming across that gorgeous face.

God if you only knew what you were saying to him. If you knew how heavy your words sat in his heart. You'd remember him? Through everything you'd remember him.

Your words echoed in his mind, your voice sounds like you are worshiping him. It should be the other way around. It's always been the other way around. He was put on this earth to serve, and when the universe gave him you, he was rewarded. Every time he felt the cold embrace of death, he'd wake up the next morning with his head in your lap.

Warm and safe. Home.

Does a man like him deserve more? Does he deserve to have his heart beating so deeply from your praise. Did he deserve to feel the way your lids lower, staring at him like he was the low lamp light of heaven?

"Can I tell you something Ken?" You start to say, snapping him out of the spell you've put him under. "I think I'd love you no matter what universe we were in."

Did you know just how much he'd do for you? The things he'd do to get back home to you. That there wasn't a god or death in the universe that would keep you from him. What he would do to anything that tried to get in between the two of you?

That was it. This is what was going to take him out, but if it was you maybe he wouldn't care.

Luckily it doesn't, not this time anyway. Kenny pulls away from your touch, sitting up with his back facing you only for only a moment. He knows he hasn't said anything in a while, but his silence doesn't scare you. You know him better than that. You know him better than any person has even bothered to.

He twists his body until he's facing you with either leg resting by your hip. His knees propped up to cage your body with his. Hands find home on your waist, pulling you into their lap. Kenny tilts his head like he's going in for another kiss.

"I know we would. I'd find you and give you my heart every time." Confession never sounded so saintly, not by the way Kenny says it.

The blond doesn't even seem to mind that his face is still a deep crimson, that he's all but shaking while holding you. The man's a lovesick fool.

"And I'd give you mine. My Kenny."

"My Angel."

Lips connect again ending the praise and sweet names. Hands begin exploring bodies, mapping every inch of skin. Calloused fingers push up against your soft skin and Kenny can't help but damn himself for how rough they feel against you.

But you seem to love it. You seem to love everything he does. When the pads of his fingers trace up and down your spine it makes your arch your back, chest pushed into him. The barrier of clothes has never really been a problem for Kenny, but tonight they were the source of his frustration. He needed to feel you against him, to touch you and feel that warmth that makes his skin buzz.

When your shirt is peeled off you expect him to dive straight towards your flesh like he had done so many nights like this. Instead, his hand comes up to the back of your neck and he presses his forehead against yours. He calls you an angel again, reminding you that you’re his, before his eyes trail down your form.

Why couldn't he just put into words how you made him feel? Put it in a way that wasn't a stupid pick-up line or some filthy comment. Kenny wishes he could just tell you, tell you how you're the only thing that makes him feel like this. He wants to tell you all the things you're so quick to tell him. But he can't. He can't form love on his tongue like you. He forms love on his tongue the only way he knows how.

His head dips down right where your shoulder connects with your neck, pressing a kiss into tender pulse of your heartbeat. Hoping it'll carry down your body landing right where it needs to. The pleased sigh it pulls from you tells him that's exactly where it went. Kenny speaks to you through chapped lips on skin trailing down your neck. Where he'd normally leave red splotches, tonight he leaves promises.

I love you. - a kiss on your collarbone, he lays you on your back against the bed.

You mean everything to me. - he bites your flesh and swirls his tongue, tasting you.

Don't forget this, don't forget me. Please. - he begs with a shaky sigh as he comes up for air only to dive right back to the other side of your neck.

Your hands slip into the folds of his orange jacket to push it down his arms. He tears himself away from you just long enough to grant your silent request. Sitting on his knees, he tosses the jacket to the side where it disappears somewhere in your room. Next is his worn-out tank top that leaves him bare to the cool air.

"You're so pretty Ken." Your voice and hand beckon him back down as you trail fingers up his chest.

He groans into the crook of your neck followed by a soft moan. He can feel himself slipping each time you compliment him. The feeling fuels him further, tugging your bottoms off. You feel him fumble for a moment until his thumbs hook into the waistband of your underwear, there he smooths out the flesh under them with the pads of his thumb. Rolling your hips up against him, you can feel just how pretty he thinks you are.

"M'gonna make you feel so good baby." He promises as he finally removes the clothing separating you.

He finishes removing your underwear and starts working on the rest of his clothes. Pants with a silver chain on the side and boxers that only served to keep him away from you. His silver necklace dangles off his neck between the both of you as he crawls back over you. Somewhere along the way he hooks his arm under your leg, pushing it up towards your head. His other hand follows by skimming up your thigh and gathering it up into his palm. They guide your legs apart, opening you up for him.

"I know you will." You laugh. Not at him. But in a way that's so carefree, "You always do, you're so good to me."

Kenny's hips buck forward in response pulling another sweet moan from you. Another one of many he hopes. He bites his lip when you take his member into your hands, gently guiding it into your warmth. It's slow the way he nudges the tip against you, opening you further to him. He wants you- needs you to memorize every inch of him so he takes it slower. Sinking further into you until he bottoms out.

Moans mix in the silence of your room. Until you lull your head to the side with that same pleased smile. "That's it. You feel so good Kenny. Come on love, have me like only you can do."

He almost feels bad when he squeezed your thigh, so sure that you'll complain about the bruise later, but you know what you're doing. You know praising him lead to this point, even if that wasn't your intention. To pull a gasp from him was just a little treat, one you were happy to have again and again.

When he drags his cock out of you, you mewl and squirm under his grasp. Your back arches again trying to encourage him to take more of you. Every long drag brush against your walls, every move feels calculated. He knows your body, knows where to push and grind to pull every sweet sound out of you.

Every time you call out his name, he feels his control lose and any other time it wouldn't be a problem. Right now, he hates it, he wants to take this slow and show you what you mean to him. But he can't, not when you press a kiss onto his throat whispering praise after praise into his pale flesh.

Kenny's hips snap forward, long slow thrusts have turned to sharp quick ones. "Say it again." He pants in-between each slam, "tell me you want me."

"I want you! God, please!" You cry out just as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Again!"

"I want you, Kenny!"

"Fuck!"

He can feel it, he's at the end of his rope. That fire at the pit of his stomach is raging, consuming too much, but he can't finish yet. Not when you haven't. He inhales trying to focus on making you feel good. Making you feel like the way you should, but it's so hard when you're clenching around him and saying all the things that make him weak.

That's when he hears it, the way your tone pitches up an octave. You're not moaning anymore, they're silent cries of pleasure. Your nails dig into his back, and he hisses, you're close. So close.

"Ken- I'm gonna…I'm gonna cum!"

He doesn't even register when you do, not when you pull his own release from him. Kenny's moan is muffled by the way he turns his head and captures your lips again just as he spills himself into you. His cock twitches and throbs inside you, where he stays locked and connected for a few more beating moments.

A breath.

Shame washes over him, this was supposed to be about you. He was supposed to take his time.

A heartbeat.

Show you just how much he loves you because this was all he was good at. All he was ever going to be good at. Using his body to-

A laugh. Yours.

You're giggling and peppering kisses across his face. Gentle hands cup his face and hold it there. That smile that wakes him from the internal battle he put himself through.

"Kenny! You're crushing me baby!" The way you say it makes him think you don't really mind. The way you kiss his nose makes him think you're just happy he's in your arms. The way you hold him makes him think. Why'd he ever wants to be anywhere else. He smiles and presses his lips into your cheek blowing a kiss, lips make your skin vibrate.

Kenny’s just happy to have a home.

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laylax13s · 1 year

Text

I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!!!

I'm back to writing!! A new fanfiction is coming (the last hours + Alastair is the mc), it will be pretty depressing and disturbing I may as well warn you. I am not sure about if I should put it into mature or explicit category though, could you help me out?

Contains: r*pe, SA, @bus3, @busive relationships, multiple serious mental conditions, @dd!ct!ons, dr\/gs

#alastair carstairs #the last hours #thomas lightwood #tlh #chain of thorns #chain of iron #cassandra clare #chain of gold #tsc #tlh fanfiction #the last hours fanfiction #anti charlestair #anti charles fairchild

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causticjuice · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 6 — Frottage, Dubcon

Cardinal Copia x gn!reader

Notes: I decided to do Kinktober! I am using the official Kinktober 2023 prompt list. I plan to do at least 4 more after this one (look out on the 21st, I’m really excited for that one). These deadlines are doing wonders for me lol. This is a pretty short one, a bit of a warm-up.

Tags: smut (MDNI, 18+), frottage, dubcon (I think it's pretty mild but still there), somnophilia (kinda, in a way), established relationship

Word count: ~700

ao3

It has been such a long week. You barely got any sleep and you want to take a nap so badly. But you’re supposed to meet up with Copia soon, so you consider your options. You think you’re close enough by now that he won’t be offended if he comes to find you sleeping in your bed. You’re sure he’ll understand. Yes, he definitely will. You lie down and wrap yourself up to your nose, beginning to drift off immediately.

“Hello!” you hear the Cardinal yell at the entrance to your quarters. “Are you there, amore?”

You groan, turning in your bed.

“Oh! I thought we were going to lunch together! M-mi dispiace!”

“Hmm, come. Nap,” you mumble, half asleep.

“I- I’m sorry?”

“Come nap with me, Copia,” you say, trying your best to make the words sound clear.

“Ehh, okay…” he agrees apprehensively, unsure of how to respond to such a sudden change of plans.

“Pillow’s in the drawer.”

You can hear the drawer under the bed open and close and you lift up the duvet behind you, eyes still closed and body turned away from him. Then you can feel the mattress shift and a body presses against you, a leg slots between yours and a hand rests on your waist. You snuggle into the warmth, pushing back and tangle your fingers with his.

Just as you get comfortable, you can feel him rocking against your hips and his breath on your neck speeding up slightly.

“Mm, we were supposed to sleep,” you whine.

“I’m so sorry, tesoro. You just- you smell and feel so good.”

“Ugh, fine. Do whatever you want. But let me sleep.”

He replies with a timid “mhm” and positions himself next to you so that he is flush with your body. His hand is roaming over your waist, hip and belly, his crotch gradually pressing into you more insistently. You can feel his nose poking your scalp, occasionally inhaling deeply, getting drunk on your scent.

You aren’t quite able to fall asleep with him rubbing against you and his stifled groans and pants in your ear, but you drift into a trance-like state where it feels almost impossible to speak or move even though you can still very much experience what is happening. You can feel his arousal infecting you, silently hoping for him to touch you where you need him while he uses your body for his own pleasure.

He slots his clothed cock between your asscheeks, every thrust a little stronger but still careful. As his ruts become more vigorous, he slides his hand between your legs, maybe to make you feel good, maybe to stabilize himself. Either way, the pressure and slight movement are enough to turn your mild arousal into a fervent need.

His speed keeps increasing and all of his inhibitions are gone as he humps you with abandon. The whimpers and gasps he makes into your neck reverberate through your body and cause your points of contact to feel like they're on fire. He is completely lost in your body, his hand on your crotch rubbing intently but sloppily. In your mind, you are greatly affected, but the only way you show it on the outside is with the quickening of your sleepy breath.

He is so close now, moans completely unrestrained and bucks wild and deep. He stiffens up against you with a wail while doing his best to keep stimulating you but, frankly, failing. The first move you make since he started is to press on his hand and keep it still as you rock your hips to help him through his orgasm. You can feel your lower back getting damp, his cum soaking through his red suit pants and surely leaving a huge stain.

"Well, I'm definitely not getting any sleep now," you say while turning around to face him.

"I'm so, so sorry for being so selfish, amore. I just c- couldn't help it with-"

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm sure we can figure out a way for you to give back.”

#posting in the last half hour of the 6th in my timezone haha #still counts #smut #mdni #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #cardinal copia #copia #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #ghost band smut #ghost band fanfiction #ghost band #ghost band fanfic #my fic

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moony401 · 1 year

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Is anyone else upset about how little Herondaisy there is in Chain of Thorns? Like I know I’m insane but I wanted at least some of these things;

Cordelia to make a sacrifice that led into James bringing her back, linking into why the Carstairs owe the Herondales

The Layla and Majnun story and for James to read to Cordelia when she was wounded after doing something brave.

James to call Cordelia ‘Layla’. (Even “Daisy, my Daisy” didn’t feature…)

The line “I suffered every thorn for you I would again”.

Chess games where they revealed things to each other?

Second marriage runes.

For the Belial confrontation to be more Herondaisy focused.

A proper love confession. Like Will had his whole Tale of Two Cities “Last dream of my soul” speech, I was convinced James would have a “to the last hour of my life” love declaration.

Anyways….

#yeah so if any of you talented people write fanfiction hit my line okay love and appreciate y’all #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #herondaisy #jordelia #chain of thorns #chain of thorns spoilers #chot spoilers #cot spoilers #tlh #the last hours #tsc #chain of iron #chain of gold

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seneitut · 11 months

Note

Hii!!! I found your work and i LOVE it so much! especially the wordcount!!

if its ok can i request gekko x freader but the f reader is really dom? assertive like gekkos talking but stutters so much and forgets what hes saying when she like looks at him the wrong way **doesnt have to b nsfw but whatever works thanks!

“Quietness”

[Part 1][Part 2] [Part 3]

[Gekko/F!Reader]

Words: 9K (I'm so sorry is this freaking long)

Tags: Fluff, violence, deaths, teachnicality of the game because I miss Ice box, slow-burn, NSFW (+18), Dom!Reader, Sub!Gekko.

[It seems I didn't know how the queue works because I thought this was posted days ago im so sorry gfjnfghgh

You can skip the nsfw part when the words are bold like this, its near the end!]

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

The silence that envelops the common room is ringing deep inside his ears.

Vibring, trembling, deafening.

Gekko hates the silence. A reasonable amount, you could say, to not be able to stand it to the point he wants to rip his brain into shreds to stop the thinking and not process the buzzing.

It brings memories he tries to suppress, echoing within the silence and rolling like a corrupted movie behind his eyelids over and over again. Gekko grunts in discomfort, trying to dissipate the images by rubbing his eyes with force until it stings but that doesn’t deter the silence to swallow him whole.

Since when has he become this dramatic.

He whines loudly, head thrown back, “Why is it so quiet in here, dios!” But finds not even the echo of his voice filling the void.

Most of the agents have left for missions earlier that day, leaving only the most reclusive people at the base alongside him, hence the quietness.

And it is not like he didn’t want to go—he’s always eager to accompany his allies in battle and have the time to bond with them through killing their counterparts— but the reasoning of Brimstone when assigning the teams is based on whether or not their powers and abilities compliment each other and not how well they get along.

KAY/O and Skye were out on two different teams, so his kits were not really necessary for the mission at all. Sova was out of commission until further instructions after getting injured and Fade was…well, he doesn’t know her whereabouts, but she must surely be busy with something else instead of hanging out with him.

They are on pretty good terms thanks to Neon, so he doubts she would avoid him on purpose. The only reasonable option would be that she was busy. And Breach? Breach is Breach, the man is unable to stay still in one place so he must definitely be either hitting the gym or committing crimes. Not really of his taste.

That only left him, the last initiator, back at home.

Most of the sentinels were with him at the base; but like the cliché they are, none of them were eager to share their spaces with others nor entertain him in, how did Chamber put it…´dumbassery´ of sorts.

Rude, honestly. Gekko is not at fault that they don’t know how to have fun outside missions.

“I’m surprised to see you here.”

Whipping his head around, he finds you leaned on the doorway with a clipboard on hand. The dark shades you’re wearing do not give away whether you’re surprised or emotionless to his presence here, which, in retrospect, wasn’t important to know.

He’s just happy someone is here to make the silence go away.

“I’ve got no missions today!” Turning his body around, he rests his head on the back of the couch to get a better view of you without breaking his neck. “I thought you left with Sage hours ago. Weren’t you going to…uh, what was it called…”

Frowning in concentration, he tries remembering the name of the place you were to set off, but none came to mind. Ice cube? Ice mountain? It had something to do with ice and something something…right?

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from your thinking alone.” The subtle smirk on your face was noticed by him, pouting by the teasing. “Sage is unable to go to Ice box with me.”

“Ice box, that’s it!” Sitting down on the couch next to him, he continues. “So, what's up? Change of plans now?”

Nodding, you go through the pages in the clipboard before raising your eyesight to him. Gekko seems eager, if not a little energetic for someone who has nothing to do. He seems expectant as well, jittery and a little fidgety with how often he toys with his gloves.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you ponder whether it's a viable idea to ask him to duo with you on the task that was assigned. Although you don’t have the energy to deal with someone like him: a little chatterbox and full of energy; his abilities might come in handy if the situation calls for it.

But this is an important mission, and you haven't worked with Gekko before. It would be a gamble whether the mission goes well or not and you’re not sure if you want to put something this important on line.

Gekko waves his hand in front of your face, a frown apparent on his features, “Hola? Are you okay there?”

Avoiding his question you decide to deflect it with another one, “Do you know where Cypher is?”

“In his room I think? I tried going in but I got tangled with his tripwires at the entrance and he just shut me off.” Crossing his arms, he sighs. “I’m kind of tempted to think he doesn’t like me very much.”

No shit. Who goes inside another’s bedroom without asking first? And Cypher, above all, is such a secretive man it is no wonder he loves to hide his secrets under lock and blackmail to keep it safe; the worst person to skip over pleasantries and ignorance was him.

Gekko has pissed him off, then. Great. Out of options.

“So he is in no mood, got it.”

“What do you even need him for? Such a grumpy man to work with.”

With no desire to argue, you leave Gekko to run his mouth about why he is so pissed about most sentinels at the protocol and how little social life they all have to be wasting it holled up in their rooms.

The need to defend Cypher is big, but you know the man has cameras all over the place and you don’t want to say something out of pocket in his presence—digital presence, in truth—or worse, out yourself with the soft spot you have for the secretive man.

Cypher wouldn't let it die down.

“...And you know, I tried speaking with Brimstone about having activities inside the protocol to strengthen our partnership, friendship, whatever the heck we are so we can be more trusting to each other!” Rolling his eyes, he huffs loudly. “But he said no, because this is not a fraternization house and I should take my work more seriously.”

“He is not wrong.” You comment absently.

“But I feel like it is necessary!” He continues. “How can we be a team if we aren't on friendly terms?”

“Not everyone will be your friend, Gekko.” Sighing, you stand up and begin to leave. “You cannot force yourself into others just to fulfill your need to get along. If it happens, happens, if it doesn't work, just let it be.”

“B-but, wait! Where are you going?”

Raising the clipboard, you move it slightly to let him know you still have things to do instead of indulging in his little chat.

“I'm busy. And I need this done by today.”

“But you don't have to leave!”

Frowning, you turn around to see him slouched over the couch with a pout on his face and a look that begs for you to stay.

You're not easily swayed by childish behavior from people you don't know. It didn't work on you as one might assume from your laid back personality, which most confuses it as rudeness, but this kind of attitude is what you hate the most.

If Gekko doesn't confront you about why he doesn't want you to leave, you won't hear him out. If he isn't honest, then you won't entertain him any longer.

“See you later, kid.”

Not even two steps ahead, you stop dead on your tracks when you hear him whine loudly.

He's not even looking at you, eyes downcast and making sad noises; like a kicked puppy. It makes you question how old is this kid to be throwing a tantrum because he doesn't have his friends around.

This is not your problem, though, you can just keep walking away and try your luck with either Chamber or Killjoy to fulfill your task instead of lounging around and wasting time. But deep inside, there is a little fire that has been ignited by seeing someone like him acting so pathetic that you just want to strangle him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You spat with anger. Uncalled for, since he's done nothing wrong. “Fucking childish.”

Gekko looks offended by receiving such rude treatment in a single question that his sad façade is forgotten.

“Why are you—!” He exclaims. “¡Háblame bonito!”

“I don't understand spanish, you dumbass.”

“Speak nicely to me!”

“I am speaking nicely. I don't get why the fuck you're so childish about this. Do you want something from me? Then say it.”

“I don't want anything from you! I just wanted some company but you're leaving like the rest do!” Huffing in frustration, he scratches his head in an attempt to subside his irritation.

“You never said you wanted company, what am I, a mind reader? And why is that a reason to be acting like a brat? Grow up!”

“No, you grow up! You are so irritating!”

Scoffing, you close the distance slightly, hovering over his form with a menacing aura and scowling at his defensive stance.

Gekko is frowning, his hazel eyes holding back a fury only he could comprehend but softens ever so slightly when you approach him and, if your eyes don't deceive you, his cheeks reddens when his sight roams your body now that he had a new angle from you.

He stammers when he asks you to back off, eyes to the side and fidgeting on his seat.

You fix your shades before starting, “I told you I can't stay, I've got work to do yet you insist on me staying to fulfill your own desire? Don't be selfish.”

“Am not…”

“You are. Stop pretending that this isn't to make you feel better.”

Gekko's eyes widened in embarrassment, “Yeah? What if I am! Is that something wrong to wish for?”

“No, only immature.” Checking the time, you decide this has taken too long “I've gotta go.”

“Nadie nunca se queda de igual manera. Go off, just leave already.”

You sigh.

Is never easy to confront others about the feelings bothering their minds and souls, and you know a person is easy to rile up if you press their buttons constantly.

You've heard of the happy Gekko at all times, bringing laughs and smiles to his fellow friends and filling that void of a friend if needed—but who does the same for Gekko when he needs it?

Usually the happy people you encounter like him are the most troubled within their hearts. You don't want to be pointing fingers, but this boy has some deep issues with solace and individuality. It makes you wonder if he's ever had a healthy friendship or a healthy relationship in general.

Because now that he's this angry, he could use some emotional support to go through his feelings and what wrongs he's done.

Capable of angering someone like him should be a feat, but besides that, you must have acted terribly for him to get to this point of annoyance.

Gekko seems really upset, but mostly, he looks so worn off that you pity him for whatever he's going through.

God, you cannot leave without resolving this first. Is going to nag your brain with guilt if you don't make amends with him.

“I apologize for my behavior.” You begin, Gekko levels you with a skeptical look. “Let’s try this again: I’m busy, I can’t stay, and sorry about that. The others might return later today if you’re patient enough.”

“Yeah, in hours maybe, or never.”

“Have a little faith there.” you shrug. “Aren't they your friends? They are coming back for sure, don't worry too much.”

“It's not only that.” He says. “I- um, I don’t like the silence here, it's too deafening, you know? I just wanted some noise, something to fill in while I wait. I keep talking and talking now because I don’t want it to be quiet.”

“Yeah, I quite get it. Still, I'm sorry about earlier.”

“I accept the apology because it really was rude of you to snap like that.” Gekko sighs, “Why did you even react like that? Like, what prompted you to do that?”

How do you explain to him you don’t even know exactly why you’ve snapped at him?

Perhaps you won’t. There is a small idea planted that you don’t want to dwell on because it would be too embarrassing to admit and you don’t think Gekko would appreciate your thoughts.

“Didn’t have a good day.” You lie. He seems to buy it. “Shouldn’t have taken it on you, though.”

Gekko nods and offers a small smile. Things seem to have calmed down for now and the other looks a little better than before, which is good in your opinion.

“Go,” He nudges your arm with his finger, smiling. “I think Cypher really likes you in comparison to us, if you ask him, he might go with you.”

Ah, clever boy.

“Maybe, I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

Waving your goodbye, you take your time to regard him silently before walking away from the common room, sighing in tiredness and stress consuming you entirely when you’re finally out of his vision.

This is not how you expected the day to be going. You expected nothing; just to do your job, return to the base and maybe get a nice glass of wine—you feel like trying your luck and figure out if today is the day you’re gonna like the beverage—puke from disgust because you will probably still hate it and take a long ass nap.

But by the looks of it, maybe you're doomed to solo this.

God you won’t be able to finish this alone.

Going back your steps, you reach the common room once again, startling Gekko who seemed to be playing with his knife. He takes a moment of consideration, gaping like a fish out of water before realization dawns on him.

You raise your hand before he can even say a word, watching his smile stretch to a grin while he waits for you to give him the chance to say something.

“I’ll offer this once: I’m going to Ice box, and I need a partner for this specific mission, are you up to this?”

Gekko didn’t even let the question be finished, jumping from the couch with a loud: ‘Hell yeah!’ and a fistpump in the air, a bright smile adorning his face. Doing him once over, you decide that the deed is done and now there is no turning back.

Take it or take it.

“We leave in five, be ready at the launching site or else I’m leaving without you.”

With that final warning you take off to gather your equipment.

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

Ice box is not like it used to be.

Throughout the time you’ve been working for the protocol, this place has changed a thousand times. You don’t even remember how it was supposed to be in the first place, but your best guess is the omega agents had something to do with it: the cargo ships, the laboratories, everything has been modified to their convenience thanks to kingdom.

You are thankful enough that at times that this place has been in danger, your team has been able to stop the detonation of the spikes and prevent further catastrophes. Either you knew the place better than them or their teams weren’t able to catch up with how fast you did the retake of the sites.

Luck was on your side, you suppose.

This time, however, you won’t need any of that to complete the mission.

Go in, download the data, steal the samples if there is some, and get the fuck out of there.

You wish your duo were someone able to surveillance while you get what you need, but it is okay, you can make it work. Gekko will keep watch while you gather the info, or maybe he can go and inspect the samples near the kitchen so the work can be doable and quick to do.

“Damn, this place is huge!” Gekko watches around him with wonder in his eyes and excitement pouring from every word uttered. “And so fucking cold, god, what the fuck.”

The wind seems to have gotten stronger after many months of keeping this place barred from people. The blizzard was picking up fast, making the snow rise with strong bursts of air and freezing you to the bone. Your shades were getting covered in snow quite quickly and you were annoyed you had to clean them up often. A bit more and your fingers will become windshields.

Gekko was wearing his usual fit, which is not proper for this kind of weather. Either he was going to die from hypothermia or worse, become an actual ice statue with the lack of clothing. This is partly your mistake for not warning him on time before taking off; you cannot expect people to travel somewhere called Icebox and not be aware that it might be a cold place.

“Here, warm yourself up.” Taking off your coat, you fix it on top of his shoulders until he pops his arms through the armholes. He sighs, burrowing his face on the fur covering his neck and shyly inhaling your scent.

Smiling at him, you pat his head gently and begin your walking towards the rafters on A site. The turtleneck you’re wearing should be enough to cover you until you reach the surveillance room. Being a closed space, you guess the old scientists might have a heater installed; and if they don’t, you are going to curse their entire lineage for this crime.

Is pretty cold out here, your supposition that people might still linger around the area is close to none, so you can breathe in peace for the time being.

“Hey, aren't you cold?” Gekko treks besides you, catching up with your quick pace. “You're not wearing much, I'm sorry I had to take this from you.”

“It’s okay, I’ve worn less when I had to come here and fight for our lives, this is alright.” Is not and your chattering teeths gives away how cold you were getting.

Gekko stretches his arms out, wiggling his hands to signal you to come to him and you cannot help but raise a brow at his antics. Rubbing your hands together to breathe in some warm air you ignore him to reach the destination.

The site is clear, quiet, and echoing the footsteps you fear someone might hear it. Gekko is keeping the silence still, and you wish he would speak or say something so the atmosphere would not be perceived as…deathly.

Is way too quiet.

“I need to download some data from the main room, it might take a while until I find what I’m looking for.” You comment, Gekko nods. “I need you to reach the kitchen and find the secondary lab to take some samples. Remember the pictures I’ve shown you on the jet? We need to take them back to base for Killjoy to analyze them.”

“You got it boss!” He exclaims, saluting you.

“Once you’ve got them, return here. Is better to stick together, but knowing this won’t take you long, we will separate for a while.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not gonna be gone forever, you know?” He sets off, giving a slight wave in your direction.

That brings a grin to your face.

Opening the compartment where most of the computers are located frightens you a bit. The metal doors sound like they need maintenance with how rusty they crack while opening, scaring you to the bone with how loud it is.

Everything inside the room seems impeccable and things are where they are supposed to be. Most of the computers are off right now, except for one that is stuck in the far corner of the room, the screen on sleep mode and projecting a small animation of the logo of Kingdom. Is warm inside, too, which you are thankful for so you can shake off the coldness chilling you.

There is no password required when you move the mouse, the desktop greets you with multiple files organized on the side and you wonder if this should feel easy to scavenge through kingdom’s most important secrets.

Don’t mind the hours put into learning how to hack into computers taught by Cypher, you are going to get the info and get out of here as soon as possible.

Getting the usb from your back pocket, you put it in and wait for it to load. Drumming your fingers, you get a glimpse of A site from the window and admire the pristine and cleanliness it maintains while you wait. One of the reasons this place has always given you the chills, is how weird it works.

Despite how often it snows, none of it gets inside. As if it avoids entirely to be dirtied by it. Does it have to do with any of the inventions they’ve worked on here? Could it be that it had something to do with the experiments they’ve tested on Yoru’s ancestors' armors? An invisible shield?

Ping!

The computer loads the usb without problems, the work starts here.

Going file through file might take a while, but you hope this doesn’t take longer than what you expect.

There are some files already open that you think will go over first. Some titles you don’t understand quite well, but there are profiles from the alpha agents that have the basic information one might get if the both worlds share the same fates.

Some are coordinates to cities that still exist in their world and the current location of every omega agent. All their data, every single mission they’ve been assigned and their contact information is there, in open sight.

This is no coincidence. Someone had left this on purpose for you to find, but why?

You decide to dwell on it later, copying every data of importance to the usb and reading the remaining files. Paragraph through paragraph, each sentence you read is worse than the other and the horror it hides behind this screen is worse than you imagined.

Who keeps this on a scientist computer?

Unless this isn't information saved here. All you've encountered here has been placed exclusively for someone to find, with a purpose.

Oh, fuck.

Who else knew? Besides you and Sage, there has been no one else this mission has been talked about.

Brimstone and Viper are both very picky with whoever they share important details about kingdom or omega earth; unless there is a rat in your forces, you doubt anyone else would snitch it out.

You trust Cypher with your life, and after learning what's going on with his counterpart, you doubt it could be him. Killjoy is a no-no, she is Brimstone protegé and someone who you cherish very much.

There is only one centinel left whom you found nothing inside these files.

You cannot grasp the why, though.

Someone who wanted to warn you about this and knew you were coming to gather the information that was left long ago—why would he expose himself like this?

You were tasked to figure out the experiments on radiants and the power the armor from Yoru's ancestors held; to find the correlation to the spike and the radianite they so desperately wanted to steal.

They have an intel too, sharing the information openly and creating a bridge of knowledge for both sides without actually involving any party.

The intel is here.

And Gekko is alone.

Taking the usb with the information it loaded, you run out of the computer room towards the kitchen with rapid footsteps.

Your heart is pounding wildly inside your chest, terrified of anything happening to Gekko while you were not there to help.

Tapping on your comms, the only answer you get while calling out Gekko's name is pure static; that only heightens your worry.

There is a small chance he might be alright and is only messing around while he waits for you to finish. Maybe he's only exploring the sites freely because no one is here and you are just paranoid and overthinking stuff.

The blizzard has gotten stronger for the past hour, covering almost everything outside in big piles of snow and picking up air currents. It made the running impossible to do and the desperation to get a hold of your senses, making you feel like your steps were slower or simply not enough.

“If he's okay I'm going to murder him myself.” you take the mental note, worried sick and furious.

Once you've arrived at the door frame from the kitchen, you are quick to notice the door to the lab is wide open. There is no sign of your partner nor anything to indicate there has been a fight here. Some things are messed up in the lab so you could only assume it was his doing while searching for the samples.

But where is Gekko? Where the fuck did he go that he is unable to answer the calls?

Going down the hallway you stop dead on your tracks when you pick up the faint sound of ticking. Above the raging weather, it is impossible for you to not recognize that awful sound.

Taking out your ghost, the only weapon you brought with you, you swing on the corridor to B site. There is a Fade holding the angle, she seems bruised and worn off, but still holds onto her phantom with the strength she has left.

You fail your first shot, which is fatal because she injures your leg with one of her bullets before you can land one through her head. You gasp in pain, leaning on the doorway and breathing in heavily while her dead body falls to the side.

The cold is not helping the wound at all, feeling the tender skin burn under your touch and friction against the tight clothing. You're not sure the bullet has exited the appendage and don't want to figure it out now, that’ll be a problem for your future self.

Gekko is your priority.

Biting back a pained groan, you rush your walking to get the weapon, leaving the ghost strapped to your waist.

Hovering over the threshold, you are quick to spot Omega Chamber holding the angle to snowman, undisturbed and unaware one of his teammates has died. The loudness of the blizzard could be in your favor right now, since you didn’t know how many of them were left and the comms were unavailable for all of you.

The best option was to back off to the entrance to snowpile and jump down. From that distance Chamber won’t be able to detect you and you will have a chance to lower their numbers.

Reloading the gun, you follow your plan until you are close to B site.

You didn't want to use your powers, always having faith in your aim and supported your missions with that alone.

On this occasion, there is no other option left.

Taking the shades off, you breathe in deeply, holding onto the phantom tightly and canalizing the energy from the spike ticking down.

One of the reasons you fear your powers is when the spike is down.

The longer you use it, the faster the ticking goes and closer to exploding, exposing everyone to its danger. There is some sort of connection from the radianite it extracts to what you can do—experimentations that has been done to you before the first light to tranform you into a radianite magnet and localize them for kingdom.

Is a bad memory to reminiscent, painful to the core.

But if you want to get out, if you want to find Gekko, you have to become the monster you've swore to never be.

When you open your eyes, you can see your reflection in one of the cargo boxes in front of you. Your eyes are designed like waves of a radius, ring after ring moving outwards and magnetizing—demonic.

The white of the sclera and the red of the rings, Viper once mentioned how evil you look like this, which made you self conscious as to how the others might perceive you. The shades you so dearly hold onto you was taken when you killed your counterpart once.

It belonged to her, the you from another world, and the little thought that you were no different after all made you upset and sad.

It's scary, seeing yourself like this after so long of denying your nature, is terrifying not knowing what's going to happen now.

Once upon a time, you thought it matched your vibe, but those times are long gone after the many mistakes you've made while using it.

There is no time to dwindle in the past.

Every vitals from every person within the spike radius shows in front of your eyes; where are they hiding, what are they holding, and between them, Gekko lays on the floor, unmoving.

The feeling of bubbling anger chokes you, and you cannot help the hellish cry before swinging to a Sage next to the spike and head shooting her.

You can feel the life of her becoming one with the energy of the radianite when she finally dies, going back to where it belonged once.

There is another person hiding behind the yellow box, another a little far behind near their spawn and Chamber has not stopped holding snowman even after shooting Sage who was almost right next to her. You pay him no mind, perhaps he hasn't heard you yet—you've gotta act quick.

Running to yellow, you quickly swing with the phantom and shoot Yoru in the head, but he bursts into a bright light, blinding you for a moment before you see the actual one shooting you with a bulldog.

Many bullets go past you, but as soon as it makes contact with you, your body swallows them. Yoru makes such a disgusted face seeing your body contort to accommodate the new hosts before dropping dead.

Gekko's body is right behind him, wounds littering his skin and your coat covered in amounts of blood it freezes your heart for a moment.

You know he is alive thanks to the vitals of radianite inside his body, but you fear you might lose him if you were to stick here.

Reloading your gun, you throw his whole body on your shoulder. You've gotta take advantage while in this mode, strength won't be lasting for long with how close the spike is to exploiting.

Gekko grunts in pain when you start running, you mentally apologize to him but won't slow down.

Is not until you reach snowman that you finally hear the spike detonate.

Weakness takes hold of you and, without the energy from before and the bullets that Yoru shot you, new wounds start opening up, making you tumble down onto the snow with Gekko by your side.

The boy wakes startled, gasping for air and choking onto his own blood while looking around him. When he spots you shaking next to him, he crawls next to your side to cradle your head, unaware of the many wounds hurting him.

Turning to your side, you finally make eye contact with Gekko, happy to see him awake and somewhat okay despite his injuried. Before you can ask him yourself if he's okay, he lets off a scream, backing off until you are no longer touching.

The terrified expression on his face should be enough to offend anyone, but dizzy and tired with the whole play you've done, you cannot figure out why he is making that expression.

Until you blink.

You are not wearing the shades.

It must have fallen off when you ran away from the detonation and didn't notice because of the rush of adrenaline. He is staring right into you, an expression you are not able to discern through the wisps of blizzard and ice cooling you down.

“Tsk, tsk. You've gotten away, then.”

Your hair stands on its ends, turning slowly until you see Chamber hovering over your form with his weapon in hand. Gekko gasps, choking in his own blood until his throat is sore and hurting, but closing the distance until he has you within reach.

Chamber looks down at you, his operator aiming right at your head while you try to hide Gekko’s body behind you. The poor boy grunts in pain, eyes wide in fear and body trembling for the loss of blood; he can’t even utter a word after what has happened.

Is this how you both die?

There is one shot, a second one follows after that and Chamber clicks on his comms.

“The subject was found dead.” Is what he says, to your horror. There are two holes next to your leg where he's shot, clearly missing the target. “I’ve dealt with his partner as well, I’ll be going back as soon as the spike radius goes down.”

There is a conversation going on between him and the Viper that escaped before the spike detonated. The chance of jumping him while lowering his guard is high, but would prove it to be fatal if his reflexes are sharp with the shotgun he has strapped on his hip.

Giving a brief glance at Gekko, you are safe to assume he will be okay for the time being, but not for long if Chamber decides to act on his words.

Moving slowly, you try to reach for your knife. Maybe if you’re quick enough, you can slice his neck and leave with his weapon.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” He warns. There is not an ounce of pity in eyes, which confuses you as to what he wants to do with you both.

“If you’re going to kill us, why prolong this? I knew you were sick to the head, but not to this point.”

Walking slowly around you, he regards you with quietness and a pensive expression. The closer he gets, the more you cover Gekko with your body to create some sort of shield against the other.

You know you wouldn’t be able to do anything if he were to manhandle you or hurt your partner; the amount of blood pooling around you was alarming enough to not do anything drastic.

“I’m taking a look.” Is his answer. With the barrel of the gun under your chin, he raises your head with gentleness. “You’ve never given me the chance to see you in action, I’m taking the time admiring those beautiful eyes you have there. Enchanting, aren’t they, kid?”

Gekko frowns at his words, with the last of his strength he scowls at Chamber and holds your arm with a weak grip.

“Territorial as well, how amusing.”

He straps the operator on his back, extending a hand to you. “Stand up. Time is running out for you and they won’t take long before they ask why I’m taking so long.”

Accepting the offering hand, you let go of Gekko to support your weight on Chamber. The moment you’re on your two feet, Chamber feels the sharp sting on his neck of your knife threatening to cut the skin. He tries to reach for his shotgun, but the pressure of the knife gets the better of him and he stops.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You warn. He laughs at that. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t slice your throat and leave you to die.”

“Just kill him!” Gekko chides in, frightened. “He’s the bad guy, anyway!”

“Now, now, that’s not the way to treat your comrades, is it?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spat, hand trembling with anger seeping out of you.

“You better get running, the spike radius has gone down by now. I have to report back that your bodies were sadly disintegrated by the explosion so there is no proof of you leaving.” Pointing at the pile of snow covered in crimson, he continues, “The blizzard has not gone down yet, it will be no time until your trail is covered if you leave by now.”

“Why should I let you go alive?”

Smiling, he coyly asks back, “Say, who do you think gave you the information you have now? Quite promising, isn’t it?”

Dropping your arm, you let him go easily. Chamber doesn't strap his gun off nor threatens you when he makes distance, giving you the time to compose yourself and think for a moment what will be the course of the situation.

Gekko hiss loudly, gasping for air when the current gets colder. Not even giving a look at Chamber, you fall to your knees to get your partner before he hits the floor.

You need to leave.

With your busted leg and the last of your strength, you try to carry Gekko on your back. Chamber approaches then, to help you on your feet with the boy secured on you.

“I'm sorry…” Gekko whispers in your ear, coughing up some blood and sniffing back some tears. You shush him softly, holding his legs tightly.

“Is alright, Gekko, I'm going to take you back home.”

He hums, nuzzling your neck. His cheeks are freezing, “With you?” he asks, words slurring.

“Yeah, Gekko, with me.”

Nodding to Chamber, you start walking away.

“Give my regards to my counterpart, I bet he is doing fantastiqué!”

You don’t turn back, ignoring his words and moving forwards where you left the jett. Gekko has long passed out, having his full body weight on you slows the trail to safety, but you won’t be leaving him behind just because of a little setback.

Your only hope is he is going to be okay by the end of this.

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

Reporting back everything that happened feels like a far off dream you wouldn't believe your tale if you were to not be there.

From the files, to the samples Gekko did get and held onto them so he could fulfill his mission; you think you deserve a little rest.

Your conversation with omega Chamber still nags your brain, leaving many questions unanswered and many things inconclusive. There is no one you can confide this information to; you decide to keep it out of the report.

Gekko seems to be recovering well—Sage did an amazing job calming you down when you arrived at the protocol. Worried sick and begging her to please heal him as a priority, she did not fight you and complied with the request.

The boy has said nothing from the moment he woke up and has avoided talking with anyone but you. Being sedated and under many medications to his full recovery, he only has asked for you to accompany him while bedridden.

Gekko is cute under the effects of sedatives.

He asks for your hand to hold his, to please talk to him to avoid the silence, to kiss him on the forehead and whatnot; you are amused by his straightforward attitude, and appreciate the direct requests with pure intentions—you don't fulfill his requests, much to his dismay, but do talk to him softly to help him sleep better.

One would think that after such a mission and adventure you both went, the relationship would change eventually.

Under sedatives it looked like, all cuddly and emotional—but after he was discharged and time passed by, it was the opposite.

Gekko is acting weird.

Weirder than you think he could get.

Confidence is something that oozes off him constantly, finding him caught off guard is not right nor an event that happens often; so you wonder, why does everytime you cross paths with him it seems like he gets scarred for life.

He gets all flustered, stammering over his words and fumbling hands all over the place trying to excuse himself, avoiding your gaze like it was the plague itself, and then escaping from wherever room you are situated.

There is no moment where you can go and stop him because he always finds a way out. Is bothersome and annoying that his childish behavior gets the better of him instead of confronting you about whatever has happened or is bothering him.

“Say now, what have you done to our new residential kid?” Cypher asks, tinkering with his camera. “He seems…skittish around you, haha.”

Grunting, you kick him under the table until one of your hits gets him. “Gekko is acting so fucking weird. I’m not in the mood to entertain you with my dramas, you devious man.”

He chuckles, caressing his offended appendage after your attack, “Devious, you say? I’m stating the obvious, the eyes don’t deceive from what I’ve observed, dear.”

“Oh, yeah?” Crossing your arms, you dare him to keep talking. “Go on, then, speak.”

Leaving his tools on the table, he leans in one of his arms, his whole posture seems to change from the relaxed stance towards a more formal one. “Everything comes with a price, my dear. Nothing is free in this world.”

“Your annoying self is.”

Cypher hums, fascinated, “Is it now? Go on, you know what I want to know. Tell me, and I’ll offer the knowledge of what’s going on with Gekko.”

Drumming your fingers against the table, you consider his offer for a moment.

The weight of the information he is offering is not worth what you know. What you’re asking for is a more personal matter. What Cypher is asking for could potentially endanger the protocol and its integrants if mistakenly shared with the wrong people. And under an oath, it is impossible for you to disclose it to him this easily. Brimstone would have your head on a stick if he were to know.

The keyword here in play is know.

Cypher won’t tell a soul, there is no unless, you know he won’t tell a soul so there is nothing to lose here.

Maybe a little bit of dignity because you’re this distraught over a boy, something you thought were beyond and above, but that is a matter for you to figure out later.

“We found part of the coordinates of the omega agents, most are scattered around their world, without the need to survive nor coexist within the same space like we do because the first light happened but the catastrophe was completely different. They are seen as heroes, not villains.” You begin, Cypher leans in, interested. “Brimstone seems to believe they are using radianite to support their own world and create matter from the power it gives them since they can’t afford to. Their world is dying at a fast pace, so the attacks with spikes might occur sooner than we think.”

“How so?”

You shake your head. “I’m not sure, Killjoy is investigating that aspect as we speak right now. I don’t think they are going to share that information with me nor any of us except Viper and, perhaps, Sage. And until we get assigned another mission, we have to pretend everything is under control.”

“Anyhow, we’ve got another problem.” You sigh, “There is one amongst us who is giving the omega counterparts our information, and vice versa. Viper seems to believe it could be Chamber—so do I, but we have no proof to support the supposition. They’ve yet to discuss how to tread in to obtain more information.”

Keeping the conversation you had with omega Chamber as a secret might be the wrong move, but if you can work on the shadows and try to get in contact with him once again, maybe you will get a lead as to how to read their moves before they act.

Risky, but willing to test it out.

“Anything else?”

Thrumming against the surface, you consider whether to share this tidbit of information to him or save it for yourself. Because, how do you tell the man who has lost everything and everyone, that his counterpart has been able to get his wife and kid back, unlike him?

Cypher has been your friend for many years, you cherish him enough to not want to hurt him in any way; for his sake, this will also die with you.

“Nothing more, is just a summary of what I was able to get.”

Cypher hums, contemplating your words and the information given before nodding, satisfied with what he’s learnt.

“Gekko seems to have developed quite the feelings for you, dear.” He announces after a moment. Blinking, completely caught off guard, you scowl at him.

“I’ve given you all the information I've gathered so you could laugh in my face, fucker?” Cypher watches your hands close into fists, holding back the need to punch him in the face. “What else, are you going to tell me he is in love or something?”

“But he is!” He defends himself, both of his arms shown in surrender. “Is it not my fault the boy is completely enamored with you now, you can ask him yourself.”

“You are an idiot.”

He laughs, “Maybe, but in matters of love, dear, one is not deceived so easily. Gekko is in love, if not a little obsessed with you now. Say, you don't know how he looks at you when you're distracted.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “He's scared of me, I think.”

“Says who?” Going back to his camera, he keeps going, “If only you were to see how much he hates our close relationship, or how heated his gaze is whenever I approach you. Ah! Young love, murderous and territorial.”

“Someone said something like that before…”

“See? Eyes do not deceive what we perceive.” Cypher chuckles, putting his tools back into its bag. “He won't make a move, and it is up to you whether you want to pursue something with this kid or simply start bedding someone else until he gets the idea, hm?”

“You are disgusting.”

“But I'm not wrong. Better break his heart now than later.”

If Cypher isn’t dead by the end of your little chat, it is only because of the years you’ve known each other or else the protocol would be one less man on their lines.

Something he’s said is true though, you can ask Gekko directly the fuck is going on with him to solve the problem. Bedding someone else is not an option, disgusted by the many men inside this place, Gekko and Phoenix are the only ones you might consider handsome and eye candy in your opinion.

You have the lingering suspicion that what happened at Ice box had something to do with his shift and new perspective of you. Which you find unfair, since all you did was try to save your asses and he was only awake partly through the end.

Why would your eyes be of enough importance for Gekko to run away from you? Something wasn’t adding up here. Nothing about what Cypher said of Gekko's newfound love for you made sense with the way he was acting. It could almost pass up as if he was afraid of you, right?

No matter. You are going to find out one way or another.

Gekko finds that you can be terrifying when you really want to, finding you hanging and waiting in the darkest corner of the base to ambush him or worse, kill him. Is a ridiculous thought, in truth, he doesn’t think you would be capable of such a thing.

But right now, after what’s transpired on Ice box and witnessing how fierce, methodical, hot, you were, he is sure you can snap him like a toothpick and he won’t complain. Which is why he is so concerned! That is the main reason why he’s so scared right now, because if you asked him to bend over, Gekko would do it without hesitation!

Too much, that’s way too much. His own thoughts are embarrassing, and he doesn’t know what he’s capable of when you’re in the vicinity. He needs to keep his libido in check or else he’s going to burst if you were to direct a word at him.

But of course, life never wants to give him a moment to breathe in peace.

You are able to corner him once his practice is done in one of the empty hallways of the base.

Patience has been a key in the whole process of waiting for Gekko to be left alone. The boy seems to be surrounded by people all the time, which infuriates you because you wanted nothing more than to squeeze out the information from the source from the moment your conversation ended with Cypher.

Gekko looks like a second away from passing out with his red face and how hard he is shaking from the close distance. You thought if you were to put your arms and cage him with no way to run, it would be easy to talk to him, but he isn’t even looking at you!

There is no moment to waste, “Gekko, have I done something to you? Something to offend you?”

“N-no.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? We’ve literally gone through a life threatening situation together and now you won’t just direct a word at me?”

He whines low, eyelids lowering and refusing to meet you in the eyes—or the shades, to save yourself some embarrassment— and something about his voice, the way he is acting so vulnerable and weak, ignites the same fire inside you like it did the first time; and to your horror, you are able to discern it wasn’t anger what you were feeling that day, but something entirely different.

Great, now are two who are flustered enough that the conversation won’t be able to go on.

Gekko gulps loudly, eyes darting everywhere except your face and fidgeting slightly.

On a sudden rush of adrenaline and braveness, you take your shades off, closing it and hanging it on your shirt. Once the other gets a hang of what you’re trying to do, his eyes widen in panic. But by then it was too late.

Your fingers close on his chin, making him raise his whole face to level with yours and finally, his hazel eyes make contact with yours.

Is a gamble, but you are ready to accept whatever happens here.

There is a whole shiver that runs down his spine when he tries to speak, stuttering over his words but his eyes never leave yours. Too many things, so much blabbering of his trying to fill in the silence to keep his hammering heart at bay, you’re getting tired of it.

Unspoken things sometimes should stay that way, unspoken.

Your lips crash against his on a bruising kiss, stealing his breath in one single contact and swallowing his whines when he tries to protest. Gekko is quick to reciprocate and deepen the kiss, letting his tongue invade your mouth eagerly in an attempt to savor every crevice and keep the contact to last long, for as long as you want, anything you give him he is going to devour with fervor.

One of his hands finds purchase behind your neck, obligating you to push him against the wall while the other snakes his way under your shirt, feeling every inch of skin available until his fingertips toy with the hem of your bra.

His mouth moves in tandem with yours, desperate and wanting. You cannot escape from the iron grip behind your neck nor the other hand trying to figure out how to take the clothing off.

Gekko wants you, wants you, no kidding. With the way he is grinding against you, and how he keeps making these noises when your tongues connect in his mouth, to the low grunts he slips when you regain dominance. This boy is desperate to bed you, and you cannot deny you don’t share the same sentiment.

You groan loudly when his hand gives up and tucks under the bra to grab your right breast, toying with the mound and fingers stimulating the nipple. Gekko smiles against your lips when he hears the reaction, sucking on your lower lip and claiming your mouth once again.

Your hand finds purchase on his hip, guiding his erratic movements to a slow one, making the friction harder to pursue but more aware of the pleasure flooding his system.

“More, please.” he whispers, kissing your cheek and leading his mouth down your neck to suck on the skin. “Give me more.”

Submissive.

Holding his cheeks you redirect his lips to yours, giving him what he wants. Rising your leg and applying pressure, he groans loudly for you to stick your tongue down his throat. His cock feels hard rock against your thigh, twitching with the need to be touched directly by your hand alone.

Gekko doesn't know what comes over him nor how he finds the courage to be touching you without shame. From kissing you, to feeling your breasts fit perfectly in his hand and having you ride his thigh unconsciously, is all too overwhelming and hot and it turns him on so much he wants to be devoured by you.

Own me, he wants to say, own me, mark me, make me yours only, please.

His finger racks down your chest with the many sinful thoughts running his head, leaving a red trail of his mark on your body. Gekko’s hand lowers until he grabs a handful of your ass now and tries to bite your lips in an attempt to seduce you. But somehow gets to draw blood because of his eagerness to feel you too. You stop for a moment, whining in pain and catching your breath from the make out session.

Taking distance, Gekko grunts in protest, eyes begging you to keep going. But when he notices the slight blood, he panics wildly.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” His hands hold your head with tenderness, and he watches your lip bleed slightly and get swollen with how hard he was chasing after the kiss. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Huffing in amusement, you grab him by the neck and push him against the wall once again, his hands fall to his sides. He seems caught off guard, a surprised expression painting his features while he figures what you’re trying to do.

Leaning in, you whisper in his ear, “You’re such a brat, you know that?”

Gekko sighs at your words, melting under your touch, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I am…”

Wanting to test the waters, you tighten your grip on his neck, Gekko moans at that, bucking his hips.

“Who gave you permission to talk back, hm?”

You feel him gulp, having enough braveness to let his hand fall on your waist and caress you softly. Your eyes soften looking deeply into his eyes, finally understanding that his feelings are real.

The tenderness in which he looks at you fills your heart with this unknown feeling. Overwhelming, blooming, that is suffocating. In a good way, though, is pleasing.

“Are you okay with this, Gekko?” you ask. Gekko blushes and nods. Leaning your forehead against his, you smile gently.

“I-If you are, yes, anything.” Your stare is heavy, scorching, but he thinks that has nothing to do with the fact your eyes hold so much power and weight; but because he’s made you this flustered with his kisses.

That alone is enough to rile him up even more.

The blood has dried by this point and you are more than eager to keep going, but the fact anyone could find you both like this, and Gekko would be unable to hide the hard on he is sporting right now, obligates you to keep your feet grounded.

“Want to continue this behind doors?” you ask him, your hand touching his lower lip with care. Gekko nods excitedly, kissing your thumb.

“Yes, please.”

Oh, you cannot wait to wreck and ruin this man for anybody else.

Bold of you to assume he would want anyone but you on his bed by the end of tonight.

#seneitut writes #gekko x reader #gekko smut #valorant fanfiction #i love me some jealous gekko sometimes hehe #once again im so sorry it didnt post the day i set it on #ill post the other one in a couple of hours because i want to do a last revision uwu

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