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amisunderstoodgoddess · 3 months

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Hunt - final

(part one here)

Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?

Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)

Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.

I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.

You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.

It's then that the memories come rushing back.

Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.

How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?

When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.

------

The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.

You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.

It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.

The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.

Nothing is familiar.

You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.

The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?

Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.

Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.

He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.

The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.

You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.

He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.

You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.

The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.

The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"

Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.

“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"

The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”

He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.

"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.

He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.

"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.

"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.

The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.

"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."

You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.

“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."

The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.

You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”

“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"

You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.

Even if you have difficulty accepting it.

Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.

“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.

“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”

He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.

“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."

Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."

That word, again.

Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.

Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.

You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.

A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.

“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."

You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.

“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."

As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.

His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.

And it makes the heat spread between your legs.

There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.

That purr again.

A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.

As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.

The invisible thread of a scent.

The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.

It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.

Suddenly you can't speak.

The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.

“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.

You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.

The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.

What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.

You're not squirming to get away.

The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.

You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.

He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.

You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.

In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.

Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.

Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-

Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.

You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.

What is this, anyway?

You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.

It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.

You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.

He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.

Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.

Two things become clear to you then:

1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.

2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.

His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.

But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.

The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.

It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.

The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.

His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.

It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.

It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.

“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.

Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.

A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.

He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.

His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.

“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".

A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.

He looks between your legs. Really look.

Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.

Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.

You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.

His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.

Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.

The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.

The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.

The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.

“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”

His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.

"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.

You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.

"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.

A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.

You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.

He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.

Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.

It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.

Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.

You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.

He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.

"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.

Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.

...

That's it.

There is no slow entry or split stretch.

He just pushes and goes in.

You scream.

It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.

Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.

Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.

The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.

"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.

And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.

“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”

“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.

Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”

God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.

“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.

“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.

There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.

Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.

“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.

The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.

"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.

He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful - it makes you feel like a little Eskimo inside an igloo. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.

His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.

"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.

"What--"

"Say my name."

Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.

"D-Doh'kein."

He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.

Only then does he say. "Beg."

His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.

“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.

He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.

He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.

He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.

You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.

“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”

“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.

You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.

Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.

You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.

Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.

You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”

This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.

You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.

“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.

He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.

He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.

You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.

You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.

You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.

Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.

"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.

The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.

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redclercs · 11 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you��ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you

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shogunish · 2 months

Text

𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻.

satoru x f! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, satoru and reader explore their relationship, space talk bc i'm a sucker for that

970 words

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?’’ said satoru with cerulean eyes hidden behind sunnies that were as dark as the space in-between the seemingly infinite stars. his face was pale as the moonlight, hair white as snow in the middle of december and those eyes..oh, they held the skies and everything holy in them.

little dots sparkled in the dark of the night sky which was illuminated by the moon which merely reflected the sun’s own light. craters and their shadows were visible to the naked eye - no six eyes were needed for that. dew lay atop blades of green grass like countless little crystals just waiting to disappear once the sun would kiss them with its first rays. gently, the grass tickled satoru’s ankles as he sat down right next to you.

his gaze drifted from the moon towards your awestruck face scrutinizing the moon and trying to read constellations that you had never been able to find. too many stars, you always said and gave up with a pout. it was cute, satoru thought. even though he knew nothing about the night sky and its celestial wonders, he did know about you.

a chuckle vibrated in the back of his throat, deep like the ocean yet soft like the waves kissing the shore. he shrugged his shoulders almost nonchalantly as if amused. “she looks a little lonely, but maybe that’s why i consider her beautiful.”

“the moon isn’t that lonely. all these little dots of stars are her company and yet..the sun is the star closest to her and lights her up.” your voice came out as nothing but a murmur that was as gentle as the caress of the night breeze caressing the leaves of a tree above.

a hum of understanding. satoru didn’t know why he was next to you, shoulder to shoulder and having this sort of conversation with you, yet his heart seemed to know the answer and spoke before his brain could approve. “do you think the moon is the sun’s favorite companion?”

“who can say what the sun truly thinks of the moon? he’s big and complex and pulls everyone in his orbit like magic.” leaning back, you supported your weight on your palms. then, your eyes drifted over to satoru. the night cast gentle shadows upon his defined yet soft features that would always distract you during yaga’s classes. a little unfair how the gods crafted satoru with such care and the fingertips of a mother. “what i can say is that the sun is the moon’s favorite companion.”

a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. going on missions with satoru was a walk in the park. it was always him who exorcized the curse and treated you to a bowl of ramen in the hidden streets of tokyo. you envied him. if only you could show him your strength for once, but he always insisted on keeping you safe.

satoru tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow furrowed before he came to face you with a curious expression on his face. “what would happen to the moon if she strays too far?”

for a moment, you had no words. was this not..about the moon and space and everything lingering in-between? a blush dusted the apples of your cheeks, your tone a little wistful. “i think the moon would feel lonely and roam the emptiness of space forever.”

dissatisfaction was painted all over satoru’s face and a huff left his lips; his breath came out in a little white cloud of smoke. “that fate is too depressing,” he stated, “then what if the moon came closer to the sun?”

to sit next to satoru with the inside of the universe bared to your eyes was probably the closest thing to bliss you’d ever experience. perhaps, this was a little taste of paradise just behind the dormitories, hidden behind trees and bushes and atop a small hill where the grass was still dewy. “the things that get too close to the sun burn to ash. but if the sun truly loves the moon, i hope he’ll let her come close enough to spend an eternity together.”

underneath satoru’s ribs, his heart was suddenly pounding. he liked to believe that the moon reciprocated the feelings the sun had for her, but..he still tested the waters and only dipped a toe into the waters. “i think the sun would appreciate if the moon came a little closer.”

there was no infinity when you scooted a little closer to satoru and your shoulder gently bumped against his. nowadays, it was rare to see satoru without infinity surrounding him. you couldn’t possibly blame him for that decision and yet, you appreciated this little gesture more than any “good morning”, than any hug and any bowl of ramen he’d treat you to.

he trusted you.

he didn’t burn you.

instead, he carefully lured you into his orbit and refused to let you leave his space.

“like this?” you giggled, eyes crinkling at the edges.

for some reason, satoru was still dissatisfied. sure, you were quite a bit closer than before, but his heart yearned for more. “mh, no. more like this.”

and before the words on the tip of your tongue could fall, satoru cradled the back of your neck with a warm palm and pulled you in until his lips were upon yours in a sweet kiss. his lips tasted like those strawberry lollipops he always sucked on and his breath warmed the apples of your cheeks.

when satoru broke the kiss, his lips hovering just above yours, you asked, “how close do you want us to be?”

gentle fingers tugged a strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your warm cheeks. “close enough to taste you.”

taglist. @torusmochi

(if you wanna get added to my taglist, hmu 🧚🏻‍♀️✨)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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astroboots · 9 months

Text

EYEM #12

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel has to face his worst nightmare, again and again.

Word count: 8,600

Content: body horror, violence, angst. please come in prepared.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

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Everything is gone.

It's pitch black in here, and it's the only thing he can see in this cramped and confined darkness that's pressing in on him.

There's no air in this congested space. Everything tastes of sulfur and it burns in his lungs. His heart is pounding. Alarm gripping the base of his spine.

He's afraid, but he doesn't even know why. He shouldn't be.

Miguel hasn't been afraid of the dark for a very long time.

With his optical photo-sensitivity, he's more at home here in the twilight than he is in the light.

So why is every inch of him screaming out that something isn’t right?

He moves, trying to make his way forward, but all there is to navigate him is more seemingly infinite darkness.

The only sound in here is a loud beat of a drum that crowds his ears and he can't pinpoint its source. Everything is obscured and he is trapped in this endless eclipse.

There’s no noise that accompanies his footfall in this space. With each step his feet sink into the mire of unsteady ground. If he stops to rest, it would bring him under and swallow him whole. Even a second of delay here is going to cost him.

The thumping noise is still there... It comes harder and faster now, refusing to leave him.

Taking another step, there is something from the dark that tugs at him from behind. It feels like a grip. An unseen hand that he cannot make out in the thick inky shadows trying to grab onto his limbs.

Gritting his teeth, Miguel pushes back against the force holding him, but it’s not letting go. His claws extend, primed for a fight

The loud thrashing beats pulsing in his ears isn't stopping. He knows this panicked rhythm, will never forget it for as long as he lives. It's the sound of your heartbeat as you fell...

He turns in the darkness, and the sight that greets him makes him freeze.

It’s you.

His heart stops.

Your body is wrong, sprawled against the ground, mangled and broken as your arm reaches out trying to clutch at him.

"Don’t go,” you say.

His lungs drop to his stomach. He can’t breathe. Bile floods his throat. He doesn’t understand what is happening.

“Save me,” your voice calls out to him, this time coming somewhere from his left.

He turns towards the second voice to see another you. You are covered in blood. Dried and crusted on your bruised and ruptured skin.

All the fight bleeds out of him. His hands fall limply to his sides.

"Why didn’t you help me?" you repeat.

Your voice echoes in the blank empty space. It ricochets and bounces off the nothingness and returns back to him with a sharp strike to his ribs.

"You promised," you say and the accusation is repeated and threaded into the next, as he hears your voice again, this time from behind him.

"You let me die," a third of you says.

This you is missing an arm. The space where your right eye is supposed to be is hollowed out.

He falls to his knees, but he can’t feel the ground beneath. He doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know how to help or how to save you.

He can lift a 25,000 pound bus filled with school children barehanded. Can incapacitate a genetically mutated rhino-man in ten minutes flat. But he doesn’t know how to do this again. He’s already failed once and he is powerless in a way that a man gifted with superstrength shouldn’t be.

What are superpowers good for, if it doesn’t let him protect the one person he needs to.

Your voice is small and you sound terrified as you look up at him with those wide eyes of yours that will haunt him forever. "I don't want to die."

"It hurts," another you says. It's gargled and pained. Like there are bruises inside your throat.

"Please."

“Save me”

The voices come in a chorus. They swarm him in a cacophony of sobbing pleas and angry accusations. He squeezes his eyes tight, trying to hide from the black void but the only thing that greets him is more darkness. There is no escape from this.

A thick tar rises from the ground and covers him in it, sealing off his mouth and nose. It fills his lungs with a cold viscous liquid until he can no longer breathe.

This is going to drown him, collapse his lungs with the weight of it, and there’s a part of him, if he’s being honest to himself, that wants it to. At least that would make it stop.

This grief in his chest that refuses to leave him. The sound of your heartbeat that fills his every waking moment. It would all finally stop... right?

The darkness swallows him whole. But it doesn't end. It never does.

The weight eases from his chest. Instead of an end, he re-emerges through the heavy muck and grime and slimy darkness, and there is nothing.

Everything is white. A blank empty void of space where nothing else exists.

You’re gone. Every single one of you. And that is so much worse.

Panic rises in him and he calls your name. There is no response, only the echo of his own feeble voice.

He calls and he calls until his throat is sore and raw, but there’s nothing here. Slumping down, he shuts his eyes, trying to forget how he has somehow managed to fail you all over again.

Then he hears your voice calling him. Soft and singular from all the rest.

"Miggy."

He opens his eyes again, and all he sees are your familiar eyes. Warm and loving and the only comfort he’s ever known.

“Nena?” he whispers.

He reaches up until you’re within his safe reach. He holds you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closely to every inch of him, trying to make sure you’re real.

You’re warm in his arms. Soft and precious. He presses his face into the soft crook of your neck, and you smell like the ridiculously expensive shampoo you get from that hipster store in Tribeca and it makes the homesickness he’s buried deep inside of him all this time crawl up through his chest to the surface.

He will always know you. This you. The you imprinted in his memory for the rest of time. The you that he wakes up every morning missing. The you he misses so much it hurts him to breathe when he thinks of you.

It’s you. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you, it’s you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Nena, I’m so–”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, your arm curls around his neck as you pull him down closer to you. “Stay with me here.”

He nods into your neck where he’s buried. Because why would he ever want to be somewhere you’re not?

“I’m sorry. I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to –”

You shush him before he can finish the rest of his sentence. “That doesn’t matter, you don’t have to do that anymore.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, and it tingles pleasantly as you press a soft kiss above his ear. “Just stay with me here. Forget about her.”

Forget?

He freezes in your arms, trying to process your words.

He can’t do that.

Miguel made a promise to you, the other you. The you that is fighting your hardest to survive and live back in New York. The absolutely mad and crazy you that jumped off the Chrysler building and fell from the sky just to lure him out. The you who makes weird sour faces while staring at excel spreadsheets all day long. The you that makes him feel something again. Who makes it feel like everything is going to be okay after all, every time you smile.

He can’t just abandon you.

“No, I can’t. I–I can’t stay here. I still need to protect her,” he murmurs into your skin.

“Stop, Miguel.” The arms around his neck squeezes down around him harder, and to his surprise he can’t get free.

This isn’t right. He tries to move away, gently prying himself off. He needs to save you. Has to help you. Needs to–

“Nena, please, I need to–”

One hard hand cups his jaw, tilting his head until he meets pitched dark eyes he doesn't recognize that are nothing like yours. “You can’t save me, Miggy. You never could. Don’t you understand? It’s your fault I keep dying.”

The voice is cold and unforgiving, and the grip tightens on him until it’s painful.

“You’re just gonna make it worse.”

Sharp nails digs into his forearm until it ruptures the skin. “How many more of me do you have to kill before you stop?”

“I didn’t, I–”

He didn't... right? Is it his fault? Is it–

"Miguel!"

He hears his name. It’s muffled and far away. Like someone is calling him from the outside.

Distracted, he looks up into the void, easing his grip. The warmth and weight pressed against him fades. He looks down to see the outline of a torso and arms crumbling in his arms. The features of your face fading before him into nothingness against the infinite blank white.

No, no. no. Tears and panic wells up in his throat and pushes against the corner of his eyes.

Why does this keep happening? He shouldn’t have let go. Shouldn’t have–

“Miguel, wake up.” It’s soft and familiar and he hears it again. There’s no anger in the voice this time. No pain.

The whiteness fades away back into darkness. It’s warm here, wherever it is.

Blinking slowly, he opens his eyes. The first thing he sees is your face. The warmth of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips.

"You looked like you were having a nightmare again," you say.

You are here right in front of him, real and solid and alive.

He shoots upright in bed, arms reaching out before he can stop himself from grabbing you as he drags you into his arms, clutching you hard to him.

"Miguel–" you yelp.

Too hard, and he knows it, he can hear the small squeak of surprise as your breath is squeezed right out of you.

He’s such an idiot.

He should let you go. At this rate he's going to crush you. He’s a big clumsy oaf that doesn’t know how to handle you carefully, but he can't make himself let go. Can't risk that you'll start to crumble into dust the moment he eases up, or that the universe won't find some way to rip you from him again.

“Are you okay?” you ask breathlessly.

Bile of anxiety pushes against the sides of his throat, but he swallows it down. Forces himself to relax his grip on you and let you out of his arms.

“Yeah,” he answers, but it doesn’t sound anything like his own voice. When has his voice ever sounded that weak? When has it ever trembled like this? Why are his hands shaking?

You observe him with worry, then you reach up, resting one hand on the crown of his head, patting gently. Warmth spreads down to his chest and lingers.

It feels good... nice.

All he wants is to lean in and linger in it.

Instead his mind refuses to let go. A thousands thoughts pushes its way to the front.

How did this happen? Did he fall asleep? He was supposed to watch over you while you slept. How did he end up being the one falling asleep?

"I won't let anything happen to you,” you say. Your hand slide down to cup his cheek, searching for his eyes.

“Anyone messes with you, you let me know. I'll beat them up for you.”

He blinks down at you dumbfounded. The absurd image of you, with balled up fist trying to fight a supervillain flashes before his eyes. Then he bursts into laughter. It's so sudden he surprises even himself and the tremor in his hand stops somehow.

You pull your lips into a soft and playful smile.

“What? You don’t think I can?” you lean in closer to his face, as you continue. “Yeah, maybe you’re right, but I know this spider-guy, he'll beat them up for you. He's really grouchy and mean and he bites.”

The smile on your face is so bright it’s radiant even in this dimly lit room. You’re beaming from it and his heart starts to swell, chest feeling full and warm at the sight of you.

He wishes he could hold onto this moment and make it last forever. You look like a polaroid picture the way you’re bent over in front of him, framed by the window behind you and the pink glow of light around you like a halo.

Pink sky.

His smile freezes. He turns his head to look back at the eerie sky behind you. The fractured cityscape of cracked purple and pink, with its warped gravity and jagged skyscrapers that signals the end of the world. The universe is calling time up and it’s going to try to take you with it.

It wasn’t just a dream.

Shit! He’s not gonna let this happen to you. He can’t lose this. He’s not going to fail you. Not again. Never again.

The smile on your face falters. “Where did you go?” you ask and your eyes track his, trying to re-establish contact. “Did I lose you again?”

He shakes his head, putting on a smile to reassure you.

“I’m fine. Just groggy. Slept too long.” His eyes flicker away from the window, and glances at the clock: 7 A.M. the two of you better get going.

There is no more time to lose. He was never supposed to fall asleep in the first place. He’d only wanted for you to get some sleep last night after the broken sky appeared to calm your nerves. The plan was for you to rest for an hour, max two, while he watched over you, before the two of you would check out of this hotel and be gone for good. He hadn’t counted on his streak of sleepless nights finally catching up to him.

“Go pack, Cielito. We better get going soon.”

You hop onto your feet, shoving the handful of your surviving clothes into your backpack in minutes.

His eyes roam over the hotel suite. As pompous and luxuriously decorated as it is, it’s altogether temporary. It’s just a showroom, nothing in here is lived in. It’s nothing like your tiny cramped little apartment in the Heights that is now just a pile of rubble.

He misses your apartment.

The place you call your home, and in another time and another place, it is near identical to the one he used to come home to every night.

The one with janky second hand furniture you picked up from Craigslist adverts. With a table that has uneven legs that you have to prop up with books so things don’t slide off its tilted surface. Or the surprisingly nice sofa you found on the side of the street one summer which led to the infamous bedbugs wars you so dramatically retell.

In front of him, he sees you stop and scan the room and Miguel knows damned well it’s because you’re considering pilfering any free stuff you can fit inside that tiny bag. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he sees you duck into the bathroom.

Then he can hear the clang and clutter of you shoveling everything that isn’t attached to the wall into the backpack.

Miguel doesn’t have anything to pack. There’s no point, he’s been doing this for years now by himself without hoarding belongings. If he needs clothes or personal hygiene products, Lyla always takes care of it for him. Easier than lugging things around with him from dimension to dimension.

The only thing he’s ever kept is his wedding ring that hangs around his neck.

He eyes the small crumpled up ball of paper, that is your poor attempt at practicing origami, perched on the bedside table.

God, the thing looks messed up and ugly.

Reaching out to pick it up in his palms, he stares at it for a long suspended moment, at its warped folded lines and squashed head. Doesn’t understand how you manage to still be so bad at this even with all the time you spend at it. Origami isn’t hard.

He smiles as he continues to stare at it, before pocketing the sad looking Frankenstein-frog.

It’ll be okay to keep one more thing won’t it? A piece of paper doesn’t weigh much.

From beyond the windows, the sky has cracked open, with a menacing glowing splinter positioned right above the hotel. It’s like a billboard sign, pointing right at your location. It feels purposeful.

“You ready?” you ask, as you pop out of the bathroom with an expectant look on your face. “We better hurry up. We don’t want to stick around when the Avengers come by.”

You say it lightheartedly as a joke, but he can see the unease in your smile, the way your eyes flicker towards the window with traces of fear.

His hands curl into fists at his side against the sheets, and whatever smile was on his face slips away at the sight of you like this.

His fangs itch. Screw the Avengers. They are not going to come close to you. He won’t let them.

"Cielo, it's okay. You have nothing to worry about. If they become a threat to you, I'll take care of them," Miguel says.

You scoff with a small laugh, as you try to zip up the overfull backpack, but the fancy complimentary soaps keep spilling from the top.

"What do you mean "take care" of them? What are you Michael Corleone, what're you going to–" You stop mid sentence.

The playful smile drops from your face. Your hands come to a halt above the flap of your bag, and Miguel watches the realization sink into your eyes.

“No. Don’t be silly,” you say empathetically, shaking your head. “You can’t fight the Avengers.”

“I’ll eliminate them if I have to.”

You drop your bag to the floor, where it lands with a thud and you stare at him in disbelief.

"No. No you're not. We're not killing any Avengers. Jesus! That’s some textbook supervillain shit, Miguel. They’re earth’s mightiest heroes!”

Your fingers wrap around your wrist, fiddling with the smooth surface of the device, as you turn back around and look out over the sky.

"I don’t understand. Why aren’t we just using the watch? You said you were done fixing it. Why do we need to be on the run? I thought that so long as I leave this dimension that will solve everything right?"

A flash of endless white invades his mind. The blank infinite void and your face crumbling underneath his fingers.

Fear grips his spine, and he feels sick at the thought. Has to grind down on his jaw to swallow the bile pressing up against his throat.

"No," he grits out.

"Miguel, what do you mean ‘no’?"

He shakes his head, and his lips itch with irritation, “We can’t use it, Not until we know it’s safe. It’s still untested.”

“Well, yeah? But the only way to test if it works, is to actually use it.”

“Not on you,” he grits out.

“Okay,” you sigh, clearly frustrated with him. “What do you suggest then?”

“We need to test it on someone.”

You tilt your head, brows drawn together in deep thought. “What, like… animal testing? Are we going to find a rabbit or something?”

“No, not a rabbit. Their physiological and genetic make-up is too different. Even if they make it through, it doesn’t give us an indication it’s safe for you. We’d need to test it on someone human.”

Your eyes widen at his answer, and he can see the moment it clicks for you. You take a step back away from him, seemingly without conscious thought, as if some remnant survival instinct is telling you to keep your distance.

“We can’t just grab an innocent person off the street.”

Miguel snaps, veins flashing with heat as his hands curl into fists at his sides, and a blinding white crowds his vision. “You wanna go back to the void!? Is that what you want?”

“No, but what if it doesn’t work? What if they get hurt? Or worse, what if they die and disappear?”

Something cold drips through his chest and he feels strangely numb and devoid of empathy for the thought of those other people.

“Better them than you,” he says.

Your mouth drops with an expression of disbelief as you run up to him.

“No, that’s not right, and you know it! Let’s just use the watch Miguel, we’re running out of time.”

There is a faint phantom sound of a beating pulse burrowed in his brain that won’t stop. He tries to bite down against his teeth to make it stop but it does nothing to mute it.

Fuck, fuck. His head hurts, streaks of white pain lashing against his temple. “We’re not taking any risks,” he grits out.

Something touches his cheek, and the suddenness of it makes him flinch until he realizes it’s you.

You and your soft hand splayed across his face as you tilt him down to meet your gaze.

“The world is literally ending outside because of me. People are going to die if I don’t do this. It’s not up for debate.”

He doesn’t understand.

Why don't you see that none of that is important. That's not where your focus should be. After everything that’s happened. After everything you’ve been through, you need to be prioritizing yourself. It’s the only way you’ll make it out of this alive. Why can’t you see that?

“People are always going to die,” he tells you. “I can’t save them all. But I can save you. You’re the only one I care about.”

Your hand slips from his face and he walks across the room, picking up your discarded backpack from the floor and stretches out his hand towards you.

“Come on, let’s get going,” he says.

You don’t take his hand. Your eyes are glued to the floor, and he can’t read your expression. The jarring beating noise in his head is getting louder now. It aches and threatens to split his skull apart with it.

“I’m not going to leave,” you say, without moving.

A bitter sound crawls out of his throat and it tastes like mud. “I thought you said you wanted to live. You asked me to protect you, remember?”

“I know, but not like this. Not at the expense of other people’s lives.”

God this is ridiculous.

“Let them die! This world would turn on you in a second!” he snaps.

It already did once, and he doesn’t know why you would care about the lives of people who never did the same for you.

You bite down on your lower lip as if gathering courage before you meet his eyes again.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me so far,” you say.

Miguel can feel his own brows draw tight in confusion. You sound so formal and unlike you, like he’s a stranger to you. You’ve never spoken to him like that, even back when he first met you and you didn’t even know him.

“What are you talking about?” he sneers. Some part of him doesn’t want to understand what he’s hearing even as you’re saying the words.

You smile, sad and disingenuous and it breaks his heart all over again, cause he’s seen this smile on you before and it nearly killed him.

“You only promised me three months until the universe collapsed. It’s happening now, so our time is up.”

His heart sinks at your words. So this is how it ends up again huh? You’re not going to let him save you.

He can’t even imagine it. Or rather, he can. Can imagine all too well the myriad of ways you could die. All the ways that he could fail to save you again. Knows he wouldn’t survive holding your broken body in his arms a second time.

“Cielito,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to his with his fingers on your jaw. “Please.”

The unease in your eyes is still there and he has to look away. Drop his own eyes, and just stand there feeling like his chest is caving in and taking the universe with it because…. because….

“I can’t… do this.” The words come out in a hoarse whisper. “I can’t lose you again”.

“Then let’s use the watch. Now. No test bunnies,” you try again, eyes sparking with something like a glimpse of hope.

Your fingers curl into his shirt, and he knows you’re doing your best to convince him. Because up until now, everytime you’ve asked him something he’s always said yes.

He's never known how to say no to you.

“You might die.”

You give him a strained smile, as you look up at him and his chest aches at the sight of how sad and scared this one is compared to every other one you’ve thrown his way up until now.

“That’s a risk we’ll just have to take,” you say.

Images of you flash before his eyes, crowding his vision. Of your body, broken and mangled and wrong. Your lip split open and blood trickling down your nose. Of your broken bones and missing eye.

No.

Not this time.

Sadness gives into anger. It burns and simmers in his veins until it roars with an unquenchable flame.

“I’m not gonna let that happen.”

He steps forward towards you and at his advance, you retreat, walking backwards until your back hits the wall. You jolt in surprise at the contact, too focused on him that you’re not paying attention to your surroundings.

You have no survival instincts. You wouldn’t survive two minutes out there alone without him.

“Wait! Wait. Miguel, what are you–”

Your arms raise in self defense to fend him off before he so much as touches you. But it’s no use. It doesn’t matter that you’re using everything in you to try to push him away. Doesn’t matter that you’re summoning every ounce of force against him. It doesn’t make any difference.

He barely exerts any effort, circling one hand around both your wrists, and locks them there against the wall to hold you in place.

If you refuse to let him protect you, he’ll have no other choice but to make you. He parts his mouth, holding you firm against him as he bares your throat to him.

One bite. That’s all it’d take. He could keep you safe while he does what’s necessary, you wouldn’t even know what happened by the time you fully wake. It’d be so simple.

Would be.

But there's a familiar sound that invades his ears. The rhythm of your heart pounding painfully hard and fast. The very same sound that haunts him when he's awake and into his sleep.

He looks down at you, your eyes are wide, brimming with tears. There’s fear there.

You’re scared... of him.

His stomach sinks. This wasn’t supposed to be the way it goes.

He just wanted you safe. Happy. Alive. Why won’t the universe let him keep you alive.

“Miguel, please.” Your voice is small, trembling on the words as you barely get them out. “Don’t do this.”

He stops.

Releasing his hold on you, he lets your hand slide back down against the wall.

Fuck, what was he thinking? What was he doing?

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I–”

He stands in front of you, unsure of what to do or what to say as he gazes down on your frightened expression.

There’s a tremor in your shoulder and the wet sheen of tears threatening to spill from your eyes. All he wants is to draw you into his arms, to hold and comfort you to make it better. But how can he do that when he’s the cause of it.

He keeps his distance, staring down at you. He doesn't know what to do.

"Miguel–" you start.

Before he hears the rest of your sentence, there’s a strange sound that Miguel picks up from a distance breaking his attention.

A low hum of an engine, that makes his entire back tense. It’s the sound of something flying through the air. Not large enough to be another helicopter. But whatever it is, it’s moving at the speed of a fighter jet and approaching your hotel.

Everything in him roars to attention as he tears his eyes towards the window.

There is a small silhouette that grows larger as it approaches in the distance against the broken skyline.

Then it's here.

A plated armor of shiny gold and metallic red that hovers in the middle of the sky against your city view of 62 floors up.

A man covered in alloyed iron from head to toe.

Guess that’s why he calls himself Iron Man. Not very imaginative is he.

Miguel can feel you tense up next to him. Before you have a chance to get any funny ideas (like give yourself up) he puts a hand on your shoulder, cautiously nudging you back to stand behind him. He steps forward until his body blocks you entirely from view.

In front of him, Stark enters through the open balcony door moving forward until he’s standing some 10 feet away from you. It is entirely too close for Miguel’s liking.

There’s a crackle in the air as a distorted voice sounds through the speakers of the armor. “Step away from the lady, Big Blue,” the quippy voice that is unmistakably Stark’s says.

Miguel throws a glance at the Iron Man, the way he’s tracking dirt and scraping his clanky metal feet across your hotel room floors.

“I’ve been told by an old friend that these strange occurrences and the looming end of the world are related to our lovely Disney princess over here. So we’re gonna have to take her in.”

“Miguel,” you start from behind him, nudging at his wrist. “It’s okay, I should–”

He cuts you off. “And what are you planning on doing to her if I did?”

Even behind an expressionless steel mask, Stark averts his gaze. A reflexive gesture of guilt.

Yeah, that’s what Miguel thought.

At least the man has the decency to feel ashamed.

Adrenaline buzzes through Miguel’s veins, and he feels the heady rush of it as he unsheaths his claws, primed for a fight. “You’re not laying a fucking finger on her.”

“Wait,” you shout trying to push your way past him, but Miguel blocks and drags you back behind him.

“Don’t hurt him,” you shout above his shoulder.

Christ!Miguel can’t believe you’re still trying to argue Stark’s case when the man admitted he's planning on executing you.

“We’ve built a device that lets us leave this dimension. Things will go back to normal when I’m gone,” you continue trying desperately to negotiate with the bastard.

Stark shakes his head. He takes another step closer, and Miguel feels fire and brimstone crackle in his chest.

“I’m afraid we’re out of time” Stark says, taking yet another step. “We can’t take the risk. We have no reassurance the universe will just reset when you leave.”

You finally stop struggling against Miguel at those words.

“Sorry, Sparkles. No hard feelings. But it’s you versus the fate of the entire universe. I hope you understand.”

Miguel wants to laugh. He's heard that sentiment before.

There is a hellish whirring sound of an engine gearing up in warning, Stark raises his hand as the reactor in the metal armor goes glaringly bright. Aimed in your direction.

Miguel leaps, grabbing you by the waist with one arm and curling his other behind your head for protection. The first blast hits the wall not two inches from where your face would have been.

He pivots midair, crashing into the nearest wall of glass, making sure his shoulder connects with the window for impact to make your escape. Glass shatters around you both as he leaps from the 62nd floor.

The cold evening air lashes punishingly against his face at the descent. Your arms tighten around his neck, and the two of you fall through the sky, in the way you two have twice before.

Miguel cuts through air and gravity, soaring downwards.

He has to get you out of here. Has to throw them off and lose them.

Something sharp whizzes through his side, with a whiny little noise.

Arrows, he realizes. His fangs practically itch with annoyance.

What kind of idiot brings arrows to a superhero fight?

He tears through the air, intending to dodge them, but an invisible force wraps around his limbs with a punishing force.

The only thing he can see is a thin red fog infiltrating the nearby air surrounding him. Some kind of weird, dark magic. Miguel doesn’t linger on the thought for long.

There’s more of them, the stupid arrows. One after another, all aimed with uncanny precision despite the increasing velocity the two of you are falling with.

Miguel should be able to easily dodge them, but with his restrained mobility he can’t guarantee it wouldn’t leave you exposed. At this angle and trajectory, they’d pierce right through your femur.

Shit! He can't risk it.

Twisting in the air, it’s all Miguel can do to press you closer and cover every exposed inch of you that he can. One arrow pierces right through his ankle, another his side between his sixth and seventh ribs.

Fuck!

Kicking out his feet, against the cladding of the building, he tries to break his fall as best as he can as he sinks his claws into the concrete for leverage to climb upwards.

But he misjudges the angle. Miscalculates the weight. Gets everything wrong.

Sharp pain streaks through his leg as he tries to gain traction one last time, gripping with the claws of his feet. It doesn’t work. He falls.

All he can do is brace your fall with his body so you don’t get hurt.

He lands with a nauseating thud against the hard roof below. Back first, absorbing all the impact, and the white blinding pain spears through the length of his entire spine.

Fuck, everything hurts.

He tries to get up, but his shoulder is fucked. The muscles burn, and he can’t seem to move properly, must’ve dislocated it on his way down.

“Miguel, are you–”

“I'm fine,” he interrupts, biting down hard to stem the agonized groan that wants to erupt. “It's fine. We’re okay.”

He takes hold of the sloping roof tiles beneath his claws, the building seems tilted at an impossible angle. It must be the after effects of this dimension warping.

Gripping tight, he uses it to leverage himself upright, ignoring the painful sensation shooting through the nerves of his back.

He hooks his claws into the crevice of the cement and begins to climb. It's excruciating, but he manages it, laboriously dragging the both of you up the short length of wall to settle you on a ledge, where you at least have the questionable safety of steady ground beneath your feet.

Fuck, you’re shaking, obviously terrified. He pulls you to him until he can cradle you in his arms and between his legs, and wrap himself around you, hoping to comfort you.

This is so stupid. He should’ve just listened to you from the start. Should have had Lyla transport you out of here.

Shouldn’t have let it go this far. He just couldn’t do it. Wasn’t willing to take the risk. Couldn’t live with himself if his miscalculation would be what took your life.

He didn’t want to risk it.

But he’s running out of options.

Because he needs you to live. This version of you. This you who drives him mad and makes him smile and makes him want to live again. Singular and unique, and he’s going to love you until his dying breath. Just as surely as he loves the other you.

“Lyla,” he calls out and from your wrist, the familiar amber glow springs up and Lyla appears. “Calculate the location for a dimension jump.”

“What destination?” she asks, simple and straight to the point. For once there’s no sass. Even Lyla must understand the severity of their situation. That more than everything else that preceded this moment makes Miguel worry about just how fucked the two of you are.

He takes a second to think about it. Where could he safely bring you? Somewhere you could be safe without a doubt. A dimension without Avengers or interlopers or mad crazy shit like this that would put you at risk. A place that he knows like the back of his hand.

“Earth 928-C,” Miguel orders.

He watches you, tucked to his side, eyes wide and afraid and guilt grips at his lungs. How has he managed to fuck it up this badly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, gripping firmer around your shoulders. “You were right. I’m sorry. We should’ve just done it your way from the start.”

“Mig.” Your eyes soften, the worry and alarm melting from your eyes.

It doesn’t last for very long. The scent of sulfur singes the evening air. Then there's a bright flash of red lightning against the sky.

Miguel only gets a split second to catch it in the corner of his eyes, then it’s already flying towards you.

He leaps in front of you, pushing you back and out of the way.

Whatever it is, hits him with the force of a tank, catapulting him into the air. He doesn’t have time to react but his latent survival instinct reacts for him, webbing shoots out of his wrist by reflex, sticking to a nearby wall. It’s the only thing that holds him suspended in the air so he doesn’t drop some several hundred feet below.

There’s a high pitched whistle echoing between his ear drums. He feels discombobulated. Like he doesn’t know left from right and when Miguel pulls himself upright, everything spins. He is sure that he is going to be sick and vomit.

Reaching down to his stomach, it’s strangely wet. Must be the fucking rain, which is… odd, because the material of the suit is supposed to be hydrophobic.

He brings up his fingers into view, and instead of the shin gray of water, his hand is soaked in red.

Well fuck.

There’s gashes in his suit. Deep cuts that’s broken through the skin. He’s bleeding. Heavily.

Shit, he doesn’t have time for this.

Where are you?

He grits his teeth, ignoring the sharp and searing pain as he grabs hold of the cold metal of a nearby banister and pulls himself back up to the rooftop. A groan escapes him before he can swallow it back down.

It’s fine. It hurts. But it’ll heal.

It doesn’t matter. He scans his surroundings, searching for you. What matters is you.

On the far side of the next building, he spots your colorful bright shirt. You’re sitting upright, which means you’re still conscious.

Still alive. Thank god.

Relief floods him until he spots the looming shape of shiny metal above you. Stark.

Your mouth is moving as you look up at the man and even with his super hearing Miguel can barely make out the words you’re saying above the chaotic noises surrounding him.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him, please.”

A cold sliver runs up his spine when he hears you. The realization lances through him painfully. You weren’t arguing for Stark’s case before.

Why is he always such an idiot?

Stark extends one hand towards you, raising the repulsor gauntlet. The blazing reactor in his palm blinds Miguel’s retinas with a sharp pain.

“I won’t,” Stark promises.

No. nononono.

Miguel leaps before he can think. There is no thought or tactics. His brain is wiped blank, driven by pure impulse and instincts: to protect you. Keep you safe. Keep you alive.

He tears through the air, feet stomping down on the hard iron torso and Miguel grabs the hard metallic throat under his hand, putting his entire body-weight into it as he slams down until there’s a satisfying crunch beneath. Can feel the hard alloy skull hit the concrete with a heavy and unforgiving thud.

A blast goes off, and there’s sharp and bright searing pain that burns along his entire side, but he ignores it.

He slams down again, blindly and without aim. Until the force pushing back against him from underneath stops and goes slack.

The light on the eye sockets flicker. Then the robot suit slumps and powers down in his grip. Miguel lets go, letting the heavy suit fall to the ground, before pulling away.

His feet wobble on the ground beneath as he takes a step back. His line of vision askew and tilted. He can feel his consciousness slipping, and he has to shake his head hard, to snap himself out of it.

He needs to find you and get you out of here.

Everything spins. The skyline seems to swim in swirly lines, and he can’t tell if it’s his consciousness failing him or the reality around him is warping.

From a distance he sees your small silhouette, running up towards him, and all he feels is relief spreading through his chest.

“Miguel,” You reach for him, pulling off your cardigan and shoving the fabric of it onto him, pressing it up against his stomach to slow down the bleeding.

“It’s fine. Leave it.”

“No, it’s not fine! Nothing is fine! You’re hurt, bleeding and–” your voice is trembling, and he can hear the tears pushing up against the surface as your shaking hands fumble in your attempt to try to keep the pressure on him to stem the bleeding.

You’re in tears over worry for him.

You care too much. Always did, and he doesn’t deserve it.

To his left the arc reactor engine whirrs as it reboots and starts back up.

Stark is conscious again.

From a distance, Miguel can hear the faint sound of more jet engines whizzing through the air.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see the silhouette of a woman rising in the sky, bathed in a menacing crimson halo of an aura.

Bastard is calling for backup. The two of you have only a handful of seconds left at best.

You're surrounded.

There isn’t enough time. Lyla is probably not even done with the calculations. There may still be errors. God knows where the two of you will end up this time.

But it’s now or never.

“Cielito.”

At the nickname your eyes dart up to his. The fear in your eyes calms when you hear his voice, and he can’t help the faint smile tugging on his lips despite the situation the two of you are in.

Even though he hasn’t earned it after everything he’s put you through tonight, there’s still trust left in there for him. It is more than he would have dared to wish for.

Miguel cups your cheeks, cradling it in his hands. They're damp, stained with tears that he wipes away with his thumb.

He wished he had some perfect words that could make them stop. Wished he could have done something that prevented them from happening in the first place.

"I'm not going to let you die." He leans down until his forehead rests on yours.

"I love you," he says, and he just wished he'd said it to you sooner. Wished he'd gotten to say it more than once.

There's a lot that Miguel wishes he could have done differently.

“Lyla.” His hand finds your wrist and the familiar cool metal of the device. Then he presses the button and all he can do is hope for the best.

“Get us out,” he commands.

A burst of light erupts all around him. Bright and blinding.

Please let it work this time.

You wake to darkness. Everything is washed in a hue of moody blue.

There’s no one here besides you. Miguel isn’t here.

Your gaze darts to your left and to your right, but you can’t make out anything.

You can’t find him anywhere. Didn’t you two go through the portal together? Why isn’t he here?

Panic climbs up your chest and claws into your lungs, you feel like your chest is collapsing in on itself and you can’t breathe. Did something happen to Miguel?

Miguel was hurt. He was bleeding a lot. It comes to you in scattered fragments. The sharp smell of iron filling your nostrils. Slick viscous liquid, sticky on your fingers. The sound of his choked and bitten off pain as he tried to protect you.

You can’t do this. Can’t sit here and wallow in your fear when there is so little time. You bite down on your tongue, stifling the pathetic sob that wants to climb out of your throat. You make yourself swallow it back down as you force yourself to stand up on wobbly legs, and observe your surroundings.

There’s nothing here. Just this dim muted darkness. Just more empty space. There’s no wind here. You’re not exposed to the environment, which means you’re definitely inside a building somewhere. Craning your head upwards, the ceiling stretches high over 20 feet at least and you can barely see where the walls begin or end.

Where the hell are you?

Bringing your wrist up, you press the power button of the watch. “Lyla?”

Nothing.

Oh fuck, you’re all by yourself.

You mash the button with your thumb, pressing a little bit too hard, as you call for her again.

There’s a pinging sound, as the holographic image floats above your wrist.

“Sorry, sorry! That was a rough ride,” she says as she straightens her heart shaped glasses that are crooked on her nose.

Immediate relief fills you at her familiar face. “Lyla, where are we?”

She makes a face. “I’m not entirely sure. I didn’t have time to finish my calculations before Miggy had me pull you through.”

“Where’s Miguel,” you ask, and your voice is sharp and shrill even to your own ears.

Lyla peers up at you, eyes filled with something that looks like concern. “Your heart rate is very elevated. You might be in shock. Do you want me to show you edited photos of Miguel in a bunny suit to make you feel better?”

From a distance you can see a door left slanted. There’s a flicker of blue and amber light from beyond it, and you start to walk towards it.

“Is that a door?”

“Uhm, boss-girl I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know where we are.”

Despite Lyla’s warnings, you keep going, because whatever danger waits behind that door, it’s still better than the alternative of sitting like a lame duck, wasting precious time when Miguel is hurt and in need of help.

You reach the door and peer into the next room. There are holographic screens in the middle of the space raised on a podium.

In the center of it you see him. His familiar broad back hunched over the screens. Dark-blue fabric that stretches wide over his shoulders. You’d recognize him anywhere.

Miguel.

He’s here. He’s okay.

You run up towards him, nearly skidding on your unsteady feet as you begin to full on sprint. “Miguel!”

At your voice, the whole of his back stiffens and straightens up until he slowly turns towards you.

You run up the podium and you feel like you can finally breathe again as you reach him, flinging your arms around his neck as soon as he is within reach. You want to cry with the overwhelming relief that fills up the whole of your chest as his arms come up and wrap around you like a protective cocoon.

“I woke up and you weren’t here, and I thought, I thought…” you’re rambling, words clogged up with the tears you had held back before. Now though, in his arms, the floodgates have opened and there's no stopping them.

“I’m here,” he says.

One hand soothingly strokes the small of your back while his other gently stroke your face, fingers sliding down your throat and shoulder, assessing you.

“You’re bleeding,” he says.

His voice turns cold, gritted out with anger between his teeth that makes your spine breaks out in shivers. “Who did this to you?”

You raise your head from his embrace, looking up at him in confusion.

No, you’re not the one bleeding, the blood is his. What does he mean who did this to you?

“What do you mean?” you sniffle. “I’m not– The Avengers they– It’s your bloo–” your words come out stuttering and scrambled. You can barely think. Your heart is beating so hard you think it’s going to burst out of your chest.

Lyla said this didn’t she? You’re in shock.

His eyes soften at your distress, and he gently shushes you as he strokes your cheeks, guiding you back to his chest. His hand rests on the top of your head as he keeps you there pressed up against him, locked in the protective space of his embrace.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says quietly into your ear. His voice is so soft and gentle, in complete contrast to the iron grip of his arms locked around your chest and back.

It feels different.

You stiffen in his arms, and his hold on you tightens. Your blood freezes in your veins. Something is wrong.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna let anything hurt you, Nena.”

Huh?

No, you’re not–

Miguel doesn’t call you that.

He buries his face into your collarbone, mouth pressing to your skin.

You try to resist, try to anchor your hand that’s trapped between your bodies to wedge and push him away, but he only holds you to him firmer.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs into your neck, and you can feel his warm breath gust over the goosebumped skin. The hint of his sharp fangs scraping across your flesh.

Wait, wait–

“You’re not Mig–”

The rest of it is lost in a pained gasp. His teeth sink into your neck. Bright sharp whiteness blinds your vision and excruciating pain sears through your nervous system. Every ounce of strength in you goes with it, your muscles turn slack as you lose control over your own body.

Everything goes dark again.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my most beloved and bestest of clown @thirstworldproblemss. I love you dearly and I am running out of ways to tell you just how much. You're so special to me and I'm so grateful to have you as a friend and collaborator and muse and everything in between.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse #marvel mcu #marvel #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #spiderverse fanfiction

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glystenangel · 10 months

Text

with heart💞

boyfriend!gojo x gn!reader (canonverse)

tags/warnings: 18+ blog but this one is fluff/hurt/comfort!!, domestic stuff, handholding, kisses, cuddling, gojo teases you a bit, canonverseish gojo, slightly corny but only bc u are both so in love!!!

summary: you and gojo help each other get better at love

~<1k words

_________________

Gojo treats you well.

But more importantly, he treats you like a person.

He holds your hands and traces the spaces between your knuckles with the tip of his forefinger.

He hums when his head is in your lap and you’re stroking the ivory strands of his hair, always placing his hand over yours after you rest it on the plane of his cheek. The touch of his palm confident and warm.

Wherever you two go on a dinner date, you take a walk after and he swings your hands together, laughing and twirling you around so he can hug you from behind with his chin resting perfectly in the curve of your shoulder.

You love him wholeheartedly, and he shares his whole heart with you in flower bouquets and teary midnight conversations whenever either of you are feeling down.

He lets you eat the strawberries on his cakes, calls you just to see how you’re doing whenever he’s away, and grins so hard you can practically feel it when he comes home from a long mission and gets to hug you.

Everything about Gojo makes you melt, especially because you know that the feeling is shared.

You don’t mind that some nights he cries himself to sleep. Quietly, so that you don’t wake up.

Because you wake up anyway, resting a gentle hand between his shoulder blades and cradling him against your chest as he mutters broken apologies.

Because when he finally falls asleep, he holds you tightly by the waist, pulling you as close as possible. As if he was afraid you were a dream that would disappear in the morning if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

You treat him delicately, infinitely more gentle than the world that demands his talents until he is far past the brink of exhaustion. The world that keeps him poised for battle and where he spends far too much time facing curses than his own demons.

He tries not to take it out on you, and you can see whenever he is trembling with thin irritation because you are truly the only one he has in his life, but even with you he can’t always reel in his protective apathy enough to resist pushing you away with the occasional snide comment.

He never says anything that actually hurts you, but the shame he feels is instant and nearly incapacitating regardless.

It usually ends with him silently slouched on the floor, too mortified by his past and how it causes him to behave to do anything more than look up at you between shaky fingers over his face.

The sight, even now, causes your heart to ache.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean that.” He croaks out, “I’m just so tired.”

You crouch down to place a hand on his broad shoulder, learning early on in your relationship to not take any expressed frustration personally and realizing long ago that Gojo needed more care than he would ever admit.

“Do you want to eat something or sleep?”

He lowers his hands from his face, resting them at the sides of his neck and staring only at the ground, “Sleep.”

“Come on then.” You tug at his arm, and he gets up to follow you into your shared bedroom.

Once you’re both settled in the blankets, with your ear pressed to his heartbeat and him fiddling idly with your fingers, he lets out a lengthy exhale.

“It’s alright.” Your instincts tell you to say, and he shakes his head before squeezing you close.

“Are you going to leave me now?”

“No.” You answer nonchalantly, without hesitation.

Another sigh, and then you feel him relax beside you.

Loving Gojo means that you can read his actions more than his words, but even when he finally allows himself some much needed rest and succumbs to sleep, you’re unsure if he believes you.

You can’t tell if he chooses to drift off because it might make your possible attempts to leave him less noticeable, or because he trusts that you will stay.

As he sleeps, you continue listening to his even breathing and slowed heartbeats, hoping that someday soon the burden of strength will at least weigh less.

Because at heart, Gojo is a person too.

That reminder laces your own slumber, and then when you wake to him framing your face with large palms and soft kisses of gratitude, you know that his faith in you is completely reassured.

“I love you.” He mumbles, and you can feel that his eyes are closed the next time he kisses the corner of your mouth from the light flutter of his eyelashes against your cheek.

“I know.”

“No fair.” He groans, in a voice still scratchy with sleep, “Say it back!”

The smile you can never hide around him blooms across your features, “I love you, Gojo.”

The admission has him searching for your hand under the blankets and bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

“Thank you.”

Your smile only widens, “Thank you too.”

Gojo quirks up a brow, “For what?”

You weave your fingers together, lifting his hand to your warm cheek.

It’s covered in long healed scars from when he trained as a child, raised against his skin and so slight they are almost imperceptible.

Almost.

His eyes seem to soften at your careful touch, pale blue rain melting into unfathomable depths. If love had a certain look to it, it was definitely in those sea colored eyes. Curled in every silvery fleck and home in every gaze upon you.

“For being lovable.” You finally say, and Gojo laughs with an obvious streak of sarcasm punctuating his response.

“You are so silly. It's cute.”

“I’m not.” You feign a frown, and his grin broadens with all the love in the world remaining captive in his eyes.

“You are.” He insists, tugging you closer.

You roll your eyes before giving the sculpted point of his nose a deft poke.

“And yet. You love me.”

Gojo traces a finger along your face, adoring lines over your eyes, down your cheeks, and around your lips.

“I do.”

And he absolutely does.

_________________

End Notes:

felt a bit sad and wrote this pretty quickly! idk, I feel like dating Gojo would be difficult in reality, but as long as the love is there any hardships would be overcome 100% :)💗

seems like he needs someone</3

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starlight-eclipsed · 1 year

Text

Rockets Pointed Up at the Stars (Pt 2/2)

Part I

Despite what Phantom had implied, tracking down Batman wasn’t done in an instant.

Sure, they’d be back seconds after when they left. But with time travel in the mix, that could be hours or days apart. They’d already followed him back to his initial landing time, when Neanderthals were still around (and wow, was there a difference between factually knowing some people had been around since the dawn of humanity and physically seeing Vandal Savage in the flesh as a caveman). According to the trail left by Clockwork, the ghostly guardian of the timestream, they were getting close.

Apparently Bruce couldn’t make things easy and was also making jumps through time, which if left unchecked would cause the timeline collapse that Clockwork had recruited Phantom for. Specifically Phantom, as it turns out the thief that liked messing with him on weekends was also the Master of Space and the King of everything.

(Phantom insisted it was just a title, and he was only king of the Ghost Zone. It just so happened that the Ghost Zone was also known as the Infinite Realms, which contained every reality of every universe in existence.

And he’d won that title by defeating the previous ruler in single combat.

The High King had to scramble to catch Tim when his knees gave out at the realization that he had unknowingly gone toe to toe with someone who made Darkseid look like a toddler in a sandbox. What the fuck, Phantom.)

As of now, they were waiting for the actual Blackbeard’s ship to dock to investigate the fabled Black Pirate he supposedly fought a week ago, whose description matched Bruce’s. Phantom had gone to grab them something to eat while they waited in a tavern, leaving Tim to save his seat. If someone told him even a week ago that this was where he’d be, Tim would’ve interrogated them for hours to try to figure out what it meant.

But no, he was just sitting at a table in the 18th century, a medallion from the Master of Time hung around his neck, waiting for his hero-turned-king-gone-rogue to return with food while they waited for Blackbeard the legendary pirate to show up. Jason would probably kill to be here in his place.

Tim was broken out of his thoughts when Phantom returned, two bowls of soup in hand and balancing an additional plate of tough-looking bread on his forearm.

They’d been forced to ditch their masks when Puritans tried to have them hanged a century ago, now dressing in more accurate clothing to better blend in. Phantom had apologized for discovering Tim’s real name, going as far as to reveal his own secret identity: a black haired blue-eyed teen named Danny.

“Heads up, it’s gonna be either too salty or bland as wood. I’m pretty sure the cook wanted to strangle me for asking too many questions about the ingredients.”

Tim snorted, accepting his bowl, “Is that why we don’t get spoons?”

“Nah, the owner doesn’t trust customers to return the utensils. Drink from the bowl, though you might want to soak your bread if you don’t wanna pull a muscle chewing it.”

“Noted.” Tim dared to take a sip, mulling over the taste. It wasn’t anywhere near Alfred’s level, but a step above his own adventures in the kitchen before getting a hard ban post-pancake incident. It tasted closer to brine than soup, but it went surprisingly well with the bread.

Phantom hummed in pleasure, proving yet again that his standards for food consisted of ‘isn’t actively resisting consumption’. Tim could hardly judge him for it, seeing as his own bar wasn't much higher.

“So, I’d say we have an hour or two until our man arrives. Want to go over the plan again?”

Tim shrugged. “Unless it’s changed from ‘confirm Bruce was already here before following the nearest skip in time’, I think we’re good.”

Phantom nodded, silence falling over them as they ate their way through dinner. Tim kept an ear out for trouble, but the tavern was quite peaceful this time in the evening. It was likely to change once the Queen Anne's Revenge finished docking, but for now he’d savor the ambiance.

“Wanna play twenty questions?”

He blinked, refocusing on Phantom sitting across from him. “Huh?”

“I just figured it might pass the time. Twenty questions, no lies, though you can reject them if you don’t want to answer.”

Tim considered it before nodding, “Sure. How old are you?”

Phantom grinned, “Seventeen, same as you. Why Robin?”

“I wanted to help Batman after the previous one died. Nobody else would intervene, so I stepped in. Why Phantom?”

“Okay, hear me out…it’s a pun.”

Tim paused, gesturing for him to elaborate.

“Before I was half-ghost, my last name was Fenton. So as a ghost, Danny Fenton became—”

“Danny Phantom,” Tim groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were subtle.”

“Hey, nobody expects the dead guy to moonlight as a living person. Sunlight? Whatever. Favorite hobbies?”

“Photography and skateboarding. Favorite power?”

“Ooh, that’s a hard one. I’d have to say flight. Nothing beats flying at night. Sexuality?”

Tim spluttered, making Phantom laugh as he blushed. “What the heck?!”

“Hey, you can always skip,” the asshole offered.

“No, it just caught me off guard. I’m bi. You?”

“Pan. And trans, while we’re at it. Ghosts can shapeshift, so I got a perfect transition at the low cost of death.”

Tim snorted, “Death is an ally.”

“Absolutely, it comes for us all,” he winked. “If you had a single power, what would it be?”

“Something so I wouldn’t need to sleep. I can manage otherwise. What determines the things you take?”

Phantom grinned, “Once a detective. But seriously, I just aim for things that look cool and won’t be missed too much. Some people will kick up a fuss over their trash if they think it’s worth stealing. Thoughts on soulmates?”

He stopped, some part of him catching on how serious the otherwise silly sounding question was phrased. As if the way he answered this could mean life or death. “You mean, a couple acting like they’re made for each other?”

“Ah, I wasn’t sure whether you had them in your universe. On my Earth, everyone is born with some kind of connection to at least one other person. Shared thoughts, a timer countdown to the time they first meet, stuff like that. Platonic or romantic, they were called soulmates.”

“So…someone you’re destined to meet and get along with? Is it magic based?”

A nod. “Humanity’s done research but they haven’t concluded on that yet. I asked an Ancient whose domain was centered around it, and they said it was determined by a soul’s resonance. I don’t know the specifics, but something about how all souls that resonate a certain way are born with soulmarks, so that they have an easier time finding each other. There are studies about how soulmates tend to understand each other easier, but other than that there’s no empirical proof that they’re different from any other relationship.”

Tim considered it. What it might’ve been like, to be told the second he met Dick that fateful night at the circus, ‘this boy will permanently alter the course of your life’. To have been able to approach Batman that first time, point to his wrist, and automatically be listened to instead of resorting to blackmail. How much easier it would have been to avoid the misunderstandings that defined their whole family.

Then again, it would be just his luck to have been born in that world and not have any soul connections to the Wayne family, making him work twice as hard for the same level of trust. Or to be born without resonance at all, and be left knowing that he was truly beyond reach. What would that do to him, in a society where people could point at the worst criminals and say ‘even that monster has someone they love’? To be soulmates with a genuinely terrible person?

“It sounds like a mixed blessing,” Tim said, meeting Danny’s gaze directly. “I would love to have someone like that by my side, and I’d be terrified of being defined by it.”

Danny leaned back, wearing a self-deprecating smile that Tim was quickly learning to recognize. “Yeah, that’s fair. Your turn.”

“What…what is your personal experience with soulmates? If I’m allowed to ask.”

He hissed out a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”

“I can ask something else?”

Danny waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll answer, just lemme figure out how to put it.”

“I’ll return our dishes while you think through what you want to say.” Tim stood with his empty bowl, easily accepting the other bowl and plate as they were handed to him.

Walking back, Tim cataloged the people hanging around the tavern. A group of friends huddled around a dozen plates, decked out in gear that made it look like they just finished having some grand adventure. The bartender, a sly smile on her face as a drunken man clumsily flirted with his own wife. The cook instructing a boy to retrieve the dishes from Tim, sending a calculating glance in Danny’s direction before nodding at Tim and turning back to the fire.

Tim didn’t spend a lot of time in public anymore. His fame attracted far too much attention now that the press could consistently recognize him. But maybe once things settled back down again, he’d try civilian life again. There was something different about living alongside the people he worked to save, instead of far above looking down.

By the time he returned to his seat, Danny looked ready to talk.

“My soulmate rejected me when we were little.”

Tim blinked. “You can do that?”

“Ah…sorta? Depending on the connection, one side can choose to shut it down. Mine let us exchange messages. I was a dumb kid, and sent out a ton every day to try and get any kind of response that they were out there. They got sick of it and blocked me.” Danny laughed, but it wasn't very funny.

“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”

“Don’t be. I annoy everyone—it was only a matter of time before I did something to chase them away.”

“Would you stop doing that?”

Danny blinked, tilting his head in silent question.

“Look, I get that you went through a lot of shit before coming to Gotham. But you keep acting like it’s a given that everyone you meet will be awful to you, and it sucks to hear you talk like that when I’m having fun with you. It wasn't your fault, so stop claiming credit for it. If I can’t justify losing Robin, you can’t justify being abandoned.”

“...alright then.” Danny huffed, folding his arms and pouting. “Neither of us can talk shit about ourselves.”

The twinkle in his eyes was enough for Tim to know he got through to him.

— - —

Tim leaned up against a fence in the Wild West, shifting uncomfortably in his dust coated clothes. Danny was perched beside him, smugly radiating a cool breeze that may very well have been the only thing keeping Tim upright in the summer sun.

“There’s too much sunlight here, it’s unnatural.”

“That’s just your Gothamite showing, city-boy.”

“Fuck off.”

Danny’s laughter had become a staple of the past few days spent traveling through history. In turn, Tim found himself happier than he’d been in ages, making sarcastic comments about anything that caught his eye in an attempt to get Danny to laugh more.

So far, he’d yet to fail to bring at least a smile to the other’s face.

Right now they were in the late 19th century, following rumors that Bruce had somehow crossed paths with Vandal Savage again. It was bordering on ridiculous, and a part of Tim wondered if this was why the legendary criminal stayed well away from Gotham waters. He was going to have to ask Bruce what was up with that after this whole mess was over.

“So,” Danny started, leaning closer to him. “Have any plans for when we’re back in modern day?”

Tim shrugged, “I see a lengthy report to Batman, hours spent explaining everything he missed while he was gone. I swear I’ll be up all week helping him catch up.”

A snort. “I meant about Robin. No offense, but you looked miserable in your new costume.”

He paused. He hadn’t quite processed the knowledge that bringing Bruce back wouldn’t also bring back his role as Robin. It was obvious whenever he actually thought about it, but to him Bruce coming home was still synonymous to going back to how things were before he was lost in time.

“I don’t know…Red Robin was just supposed to be temporary. It was one of Red Hood’s old aliases, not really mine.”

Danny turned to him. “Do you want a new one? If you decide now, we can lay the basis for some local legend to act as future inspiration for the new title.”

Tim elbowed him, “We aren’t messing with the timeline to establish lore for my new identity.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I did it back in my original world, there’s ancient frescos of me winning chariot races and everything.”

“How are you and Clockwork still on speaking terms?”

“Oh, he totally finds it as funny as I do. He just has to pretend to be serious all the time so the Observants don’t crack down on him for shirking his duties.”

“You’re a bad influence on the embodiment of time,” Tim concluded with wide eyes.

A wide grin stretched across Danny’s face as he lied through his teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How did you even—he’s millennia older than you!”

“Counterparts, remember? It’s not a soul bond, but it’s easy to see ourselves in each other. Besides, time is relative; he's like a weird grandpa-uncle-cousin.”

Tim shook his head, but couldn’t quite force down the laughter in his lungs.

“Hey, I know for a fact I’m not the only bad influence here. No matter how much you claim that sleep is for the dead, I’m physical proof against that.”

“Whatever. You know when the next jump is?”

Danny tilted his head, as if listening for something only meant for his ears. “If Bats already came through here, there’s only two big timesinks left he could be in. Either sometime in the 20th century, or in a designated Vanishing Point.”

“Vanishing Point?”

“Yeah, it’s something of a collaboration between the Observants, Clockwork, and Ghost Writer. Each universe has an archive set right around its eventual heat death. It’s like an empty room in a video game with props the devs left in to keep the system running after inadvertently designing the whole code in reference to a lemon.”

“I…never mind. Why would Batman be there?”

“Oh, ‘cause he’s traveling through time without one of these,” Danny tapped Tim’s chest, right where his Time Medallion lay under his shirt. “They’re designed to safely disperse the energy gained each time we make a jump, among other things. Otherwise we’d just be building up enough to wipe the timeline from existence. Or something like that, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Tim suddenly realized that this was what his former teammates meant when they complained about him executing strategies without explaining his thought process first. He still stood by his stance that it was more effective to explain things as they happened, but he was developing a new sense of empathy for them.

“Okay. Batman is a time-charged universe level bomb threat, and is getting funneled into the Backrooms so he blows up with everything else in existence. What can we do to stop that?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, I thought it was obvious. I already carry a medallion with me wherever I go, so I was just gonna have you put the spare Clocky gave me on him to filter it out.”

Yep. This was karma for never giving people the full story behind any of his plans.

“I’m going to need you to go over everything we need to do when we get to this Vanishing Point. Twice.”

“Okie doke! So I’m gonna leave you with my spare medallion to help Bats while I throw down with Darkseid’s hyper-dimensional mind slave he sent after him to ensure his demise—”

Gift baskets. Tim owed so many people gift baskets for putting up with his bullshit.

— - —

When Tim found him, Danny was perched on the same apartment building they’d last met on.

His hood was down, freeing his flaming white hair to burn without heat in the night. His face was turned towards the sky, looking for all like he was somehow stargazing in spite of the thick smog that blanketed the city. It would’ve made for a stunning picture, if not for how soul crushingly lonely the scene felt.

Danny startled when Tim’s grappling hook latched onto the rooftop beside him. The halfa was quick to brighten upon seeing Tim down below, scooting over to make room for him as he reeled in the line and pulled himself up.

“Fancy meeting you here, Detective.”

Tim huffed, readjusting his utility belt. “The others won’t stop pestering me about how Batman was brought back when I shouldn’t have access to any time travel devices. It’s a miracle I was even able to get out of the Batcave without getting smothered.”

“You didn’t tell them about me?”

“You didn’t want them to know.”

Danny looked stunned. He physically shook himself out of it, a glowing green blush rising to his cheeks as he turned away. “Thanks.”

Tim absentmindedly nodded as he smoothly slipped a black marker from his belt while Danny was distracted. This had the potential to either go very smoothly or backfire completely, but it had to be done to sate his curiosity. Now that Bruce was home and he’d gotten the time to think over their conversations, pieces had started to align in his head. It was just a matter of taking the leap and confirming it for himself.

Reaching up to his own cheek, Tim wrote in practiced motions, focusing on the thought of sending it through to whoever was on the other side.

Danny jumped, hand slapping to his own cheek as he whipped his head around to stare at Tim in open shock. He shrugged sheepishly.

“Your description of soulmates was familiar. Between that and the cloak, I really should’ve put it together sooner.”

“You’re…not mad?”

Tim shifted, stashing the marker back in its rightful place. “I wish I knew sooner. I never meant to hurt you—Batman was getting on my case about the writing on my arms being recognizable in costume, and I never thought to wonder why it was happening in the first place.”

Danny shook his head, a wet chuckle escaping his lips. “You couldn’t have known. It would’ve freaked anyone out, getting messages from a different universe on their skin.”

“Neither did you. Know, I mean. Me blocking the connection was never on you.”

“Well…”

“I mean it.”

“Fine, fine. So…does that mean…?”

Tim carefully reached out his hands to grasp onto his soulmate’s, intertwining their fingers. It was remarkable how easily they fit together. “I don’t know if it’s romantic or not, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

Danny collapsed forward into Tim’s arms. He could hardly make out the muffled affirmative, but the message was crystal clear. Leaning down to set his chin on the top of Danny’s head, he let himself savor this moment.

Tomorrow, he could beg Danny to experiment with the extent of their bond. They could talk about new ideas for his hero name, and Danny could get another shot at convincing him to go on a worldwide anti-multi-billionaire tour. The two of them had potentially forever to work out this newfound aspect of their relationship.

For the time being, Tim relaxed back against a chain link fence with his soulmate in his arms, the word ‘BOO’ scribbled in black marker across both their faces.

— - —

And that's a wrap! There's definitely room for more, but these were the all the scenes I wanted to cover ^-^

I think in this universe, Danny and Tim end up working as a slightly morally grey hero duo. They go global for a bit, Tim wanting to train under more people to better keep up with Danny (who follows along invisibly as backup). This eventually gets the attention of Ra's, and you can imagine how that goes XD

They're a bit overly attached; neither of them really have a healthy sense of boundaries, which causes a bit of conflict here and there. Tim is the one that insists on taking breaks to avoid becoming too codependent, which only really results in them deepening the soul bond to a ridiculous degree. Ironically it's during this that Tim discovers how he can send pressure marks through to Danny, who immediately converts it to morse code (oops).

Thanks for reading!

Tag list:

@skulld3mort-1fan @profoundsoulsong @daemonlogical @bobred18 @ashoutinthedarkness @hilariousseagoat @undead-essence @ekatkit @wolfjackle @awkwardmaiden @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

#dp x dc fanfic #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #brain dead #rejected soulmate au #danny x tim #my fic #complete #gonna be honest I planned to stop at part I #but it felt incomplete so I threw together a bunch of scenes I wanted to see between them #pacing is for people with time

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mediumsizedpidegon · 1 year

Text

I'm a big fan of having the Fentons opening up a portal to hell in their basement having some consequences that aren't just the ghosts coming through to mess with Amity Park.

Amity Park has to be drenched in ectoplasm by now. And mysterious ghostly substances can and should cause some side effects for both the town and its inhabitants.

Meaning: Danny is split half and half, both and neither, but he's not the only one toeing the line between ghost and human. he's just the most concentrated version of it.

Valarie and Jazz are first. The former has a full suit of ghost technology embedded into her body and the latter grew up in a house where safety protocols were enough of a joke that pure ectoplasm was stored in the fridge right next to dinner and it contaminated everything. Tucker and Sam are next: they were there when the Portal Incident happened and even though they weren't in the portal, they must have absorbed some of the backlash from it ripping a hole in space to the Infinite Realms, and they were further exposed from helping Danny fight ghosts.

everyone in the town is a little contaminated at the least. everyone is also a little more focused and obsessive than the average person. everyone's got a hobby or a craft or a couple causes that call to them. this goes unnoticed. Amity Park is just a passionate place, you know? Amity Park has some quirks– and the ghosts are 83 of them– but this is their town and they're not leaving for anything. It's the way of things, it's placing a live frog in cold water and slowly cranking the heat up to boiling. No one sees what they're becoming because the changes are so slow and they're affecting all of them. There's no outsider looking in alert people to how different their bodies, their priorities, their community are in comparison. It's a small town far enough away from anything important to be beneath notice. It's isolated enough that when change comes, no one recognizes it at their doorstep. It's small and unimportant enough that their neighboring towns, their state, and the rest of the nation call the ghosts attacking their town a hoax: a way to draw tourists in. (the claim to ghosts do not draw tourists in. the only "tourists" that go to Amity are the ones that have a wild spark in their eye and not much to lose. they end up staying more often than not.)

time + isolation = a new culture, or at least room for cultural shifts. The word "wish" is treated as taboo as the most vulgar curses. The parks bear an unusual amount of fruit (and who even planted those fruit trees? what even is this fruit?) are wild enough to count as small forests. Crows talk and old ladies think it charming. There's always live music going on somewhere, played by band kids and musicians that are... particularly strange. Some pets die and come back for dinner. The library has never before been hosting so many events, for groups of knitters, artists, hobby biologists, and college students showing off the powerpoints they made for fun. Every month a guy who really likes birds shows off his rescued parrots to starry-eyed kids. Seasonal decorations get... intense.

It's the way Amity Park is. The way it's always been, right?

#Eerie Amity Park #danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #jazz fenton #valarie grey #tucker foley #sam manson #this isn't even getting into physical changes I think are going down #extra teeth. stripes that some people think are just stretch marks at first. eyes that glow. eyes are so dark they suck in light.#my posts #amity park is weird

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keline11 · 1 month

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Missa and Tallulah day <tres

(A very loooooooooooong post)

Missa first day in the new island.

Missa: "Tallulah! little one! How are you? It's good to see you, mi niña. It's so ^nice that the first thing I see is you."

(^He said "lindo" that also means pretty <tres)

(Everytime tallulah's dads call her "mi niña" I melt <tres)

After Missa watched the new money sistem(?

Tallulah: "Don't worry apa, chayanne, papa phil and me are really poor"

Bbh was telling missa the places he could live in.

Tallulah: "In my house we also made you a little space apa :D"

Missa: "Thank you bbh but it seems like tallulah has a little space for me on her house so probably I'll be near to her"

Tallulah: "Well duh you're my apa :D of course we have a place for you"

Missa: "Thank you so much tallulah"

Bbh give him some iron and diamond.

Tallulah: "Apa you are already richer than papa phil, chayanne and me together"

Missa: "No no no this is ours, I'm not even going to use it, we're going to give this to philza so he can make better use of it than me, because I'm going to waste it I'm sure."

My boy was getting distracted colecting flowers for the house. <tres

He got jumpscared by a sheep.

Tallulah: "I'll protect you apa :D it doesn't matter if is a zombie or a sheep"

Missa: "Thank you so much tallulah, *To chat* my children, my dear children are going to be there to defend me, when I'm old, all wrinkled and old I won't be afaird of they taking me to a nursing home, because my little eggs are going to take me to eat ground vegetables.."

Chat: Skeletons grow old?

MIssa: "No, but those are details, I can pretend ok? I can pretend that I am an old man"

Tallulah: "That's the house of uncle cellbit, he is our neighbor"

Missa: *to chat* "I don't know, I was waiting for something more terrifying, look it has the hair dyed like an e-girl, you know?...wait Late?" (Late is a streamer that has his hair like that, half red half dark)

Tallulah: "welcome home :D"

Missa: "this place is beautiful"

Missa:*sees chayanne* "chayanne, my son"

Tallulah: "we are poor but our house is perfect for 4four"

Missa: "It's really beautiful, we don't need money when we have each other"

Tallulah: "this is your bed"

Missa: *gasp* "it's perfect, it has memory foam, it's like that ones that you can put an egg on the side- literaly! the kind where you put an egg on the side and nothing happens to it (to the egg)"

They went to get materials to do a painting, and they were attack by a skeleton and a zombie.

Tallulah: "are you ok?"

Missa: "I am- are YOU ok? you have arrows everywhere! you look like a porcupine!"

Tallulah: "I am really strong"

Missa: "Oh! I can see that! perfect! you are prepared for everything"

Let's look at the glow up of that drawing.

They showed their drawings. (I just remembered that day were missa and chayanne also draw something for philza...pipipippipi)

Tallulah: *about missa's* "It's so good"

Missa: *about tallulah's* "Its beautiful"

They went to the museum, tallulah explained when the atm was bugged and they could get infinite money.

Missa: "Tallulah I am going to tell you a story I used to be in a team, of people really talented and nice, they teach me to play, I didn't learn much, but that team was called "Vacio Legal", they were the best, they were what formed who I am, a disaster"

Tallulah: "Did you also steal money?"

Missa: "No, not necessary, but let's say that we were on the edge of the law. those were good times."

Tallulah: "Later you tell me about them"

Missa: "Sure, sure, there are a lot of stories I could tell you about them"

Tallulah gaslighting missa.

Tallulah: "apa you are giant, you didn't know that? :o"

Missa explained the context that he knew, the reference of the picture, but chat told im that there were 2 contexts so he say to not tell him, because metagaming.

Tallulah: "It's just that you are giant"

Missa: "...There is something hiden that I am not understanding, philza and I have the same high, I think"

Missa: "look at him(maximus) I would also marry, kiss and kill, at the same time- no just kidding, it's not true you didn't heard that, it's a joke tallulah! IT'S A JOKE!!!

Tallulah: "a poco si tilin" (really?...)

Missa: *Laughing* It's not true, it's not true, maximus is my friend, my bro... Everything romantic and nice that they have said has already gone to shit." (I don't know of who he was talking)

Talllulah: "yyyyyy I am going to tell my papa"

Missa: "DON'T TELL HIM! TALLULAH, IT'S NOT TRUE, IT WAS A JOKE, JOKE! BAZINGA! No! ok"

Outside the museum, missa got hiccups.

Missa: "Tallulah did you know, fun fact about Missa Sinfonia: I have hiccups 90% of the time"

Tallula: "apa missa's lore :o"

Mobs attacking again.

Missa: "Tallulah, are you ok?" *tallulah says yes* "It's because you are really strong, you endure everything!"

Missa: *almost dying* "Tallulah i want to let you know that I always love you"*he doesn't die*"oh"

Missa: "BIRD... noo, tallulah can we take another one? i don't want to bother him"

More mobs attack.

Missa: "let's go home tallulah, I don't want to be here anymore tallulah, lets go home... no, no, no, why it sounds like you are dying? why? are you ok?"

Missa: *down at two hits* tell me you are not gonna die, please, please, you are not gona die, right?"

Missa: *now ok* "tallulah you are really strong and a good fighter, you are awesome"

At home

Tallulah: "Apa I have a gift for you before you go *gives him a Aster flower* I grabbed it because even though you are a skeleton, you are a sun/sunny with everyone and you shine a lot."

Missa: *Cries* Look tallulah, in the way here I was collecting flowers, but then I notice that all our house was packed with flowers, so it's one flower among many... this family is like a flower, there are many and many types but this one is the most beautiful"

Tallulah: "But this ones are yours so they are more beautiful"

Missa: *Crying* "tallullah I love you so much... I want the day I die, to be buried with these flowers... I can't die I am a skeleton, but I can bury myself the day I want and it is valid"

Tallulah: "JASADASJDSJ Don't say those things... You are not going to die :("

Missa: "No, don't worry, just like you I am inmortal, we are inmortals"

Tallulah: "Good nigth apa :D I liked seeing you and spending time with you <3 love you, see you soon :D"

Missa: "I love you too tallulah, see you soon then, my daughter, rest well and have sweet dreams"

END (8

#qsmp #qsmp death family #death family #qsmp tallulah #tallulah #qsmp missa #missa #i miss missa

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sleepsunawareof · 6 months

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Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.

Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly

••••••••••••••

"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.

"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.

"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.

"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."

"Centuries?" you questioned.

"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"

You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."

"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."

"And what's that?"

"Me".

"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.

"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.

It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.

"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."

"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.

"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.

"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.

"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.

"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.

"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.

"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."

And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.

••••••••••••••

Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.

You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.

"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.

"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"

"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.

But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.

Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.

"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.

"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.

"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.

"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.

Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.

"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.

"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.

"For all time?" He asked.

"Always".

#loki x reader #tva!loki x reader #loki x you #loki #marvel #mcu #god!loki x reader #drabble #loki drabble #loki imagine #loki season 2 #loki s2 rewrite #not canon #loki series #mcu loki

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with-my-murder-flute · 7 months

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TLT theory: Aim, Jod, and the second part of the message

My brain is fevered. I feel like I've constructed an elaborate Pepe Silvia corkboard in my mind, and it feels like it makes sense of everything, but I honestly have no clue if that certainty will last very long.

I think I know what the Messenger is carrying. I think I know why John has waited ten thousand years.

Spooky preview quote from HtN chapter 2:

I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time.

Spoilers for Gideon, Harrow, and Nona the Ninth.

BoE's chronology has always been kind of weird to me: Five thousand years after the Resurrection happens, they pop up with intense and detailed knowledge of the 21st century! Jod destroys languages and cultures and societies, but BoE keeps popping up! How.

Originally I thought the continuous thread over the years was a Lyctor who helped them (and the necromantic implant does seem to point that way) but I also think part of it is that the ships that escaped just before Earth's devastation have been showing up one by one, over a huge span of time. That's why Wake says "My long-dead natal sun" and can quote Eminem at length; she spent ten thousand years suspended in time, before re-entering it.

NtN, John 19:18:

They said they’d managed to find some poor dipshit geek who’d fixed the FTL problem of getting locked in the chrono well, you know, moving so fast you were stuck doing quantum wheelies. They’d come up with something where you could oscillate out so long as the ship was attuned to a prearranged spectrum outside. I still don’t understand the maths. It’s going to take me ten thousand years to understand it. I couldn’t follow, but A— could. He said immediately, What is the point if you still have no fucking clue where your ship is going to end up when you shake out of FTL. They said, Aha, but we can track it once it’s out. A— said, It could be halfway across the universe or phasing through a planet. They kept arguing that probably wouldn’t happen [...] They said it was expensive, so twelve ships would go first, with one guiding them out with the beacon frequencies like a tugboat leading a cruise liner, triangulate for Tau Ceti, dump the population, and come back.

I think that AIM's message is the beacon that will call the last of the FTL fleet out of the chrono well. They are "we", they are the first of two parts, because their identity is the person they were before coming the Messenger, and the ships that still haven't oscillated back into three-dimensional space yet, because they are under AIM's personal guardianship/intimately tied to possession of her body.

NtN, John 5:4

I think the only reason I haven’t done it already is that I can’t bear the idea that I wouldn’t be able to touch them—that they’d still be out there …

I think Jod has been at this for so long because he is waiting for an event that could literally take an infinite amount of time to occur. He hasn't killed the entire colonized population yet because he wants something out of them, and it doesn't seem to be labour or devotion or even thanergy.

I think he's looking for the fleet's beacon, in a way that's like lighting a grassfire to flush animals out of hiding and deprive them of shelter. I think he's constantly killing planets and relocating and resettling populations before funnelling them together again, like a distillery trying to heat and separate different liquids as they move from flask to flask, because he wants to finally decant the key to the last ships that escaped him.

#lis's tlt theories #the locked tomb spoilers #the locked tomb #ntn spoilers #gtn spoilers #htn spoilers

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itoshiexx · 3 months

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the garden of your heart

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ isagi yoichi + nepenthe (n.) - something that can make you forget grief or suffering

synopsis: when the weight of loss threatens to crush your bones, isagi yoichi becomes the solace you need.

notes: hi guys. i wasn't planning on posting this so soon, but then again, i wasn't planning on my dog dying and experiencing grief first hand either, so this flowed out of me as a form of comfort. thank you for requesting @popponn, love you dear <3

event masterlist

grief came in a wavelength of darkness; one that covered every seam and corner of your skin until it swallowed you whole. grief carved its way deep into your heart, leaving behind a hole that burned every time your chest expanded to try to breathe. grief had an iron grip on the base of your throat, choking down the words of disbelief and the acute sorrow of your cries that insisted on keep coming out, despite the irritation on the skin of your eyes.

grief, you thought, was kind of like facing death one on one, shivering upon its wicked smile, watching helplessly as it takes away something you cherish and treasure with all your heart.

“baby, have you eaten yet?”

you can barely register the words coming out of yoichi’s mouth, too engrossed in staring at the white ceiling and reliving the last 24 hours on an endless, torturous loop. you try to blink away the images of your loved one dead, but they keep coming and opening the dam that releases your infinite tears. you’ve lost count on how many of them you have already shed.

(it seems like it could fill the pacific ocean).

“baby?” he tries again, gently poking your body. with great strength, you manage to look at him.

grief took away the sparkle of life in your orbs, almost as if you were the one who passed — because, in reality, a part of you did die with them. grief made you feel incomplete, sensing an emptiness that was never there before, but that would perpetually be from then on.

yoichi smiles, and it feels like a beam of light on your little dark bubble.

“there you are. my pretty baby.” he runs his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe the fresh wounds of your soul, even for just a moment. “what would you like to eat? i’ll cook for you.”

you feel the tears once again prickle your lash line, but you fight the quiver of your lips and the cement block lodged in your throat. “i’m… ’m not hungry.”

grief made you lose your appetite. it made you lose a lot of things.

(ironic, considering it all began from loss itself).

your boyfriend frowns, “you know you need to eat, honey. at least a little bit.”

guilt starts gathering in your guts. you don’t want to worry your boyfriend — your sweet, kind boyfriend who is always by your side — because what if you lose him too? what would you do with another hole in your life, in your heart? how could you bear the weight of another loss without letting grief take over you completely?

“hey, hey… don’t cry, pretty. i’m sorry,” yoichi is quick to say, turning until he’s face to face with you. he sits on the edge of the couch and brings your face to his warm chest, drawing circular motions on your back to try and calm you down.

you didn’t even realize when you started crying again, but you let it flow. although everything in the world seems fragile and scary, you know you can always count on isagi to be your safe space.

because your lover’s heart is like a garden — a place where the birds chirp and the flowers continuously bloom, even when they are faced with drought. a spot where the breeze gently blows your hair and kisses your wounds, no matter how deep they are. a space where you can rest and recharge, allowing yourself to be vulnerable.

(you don’t have to be strong all the time).

yoichi’s heart is the one slot of the whole universe where you know you can find peace from your worst nightmares.

“what do you want me to do, pretty? how can i help you feel better?” he asks, voice slightly shaken with concern. it makes your heart swell, and maybe, just maybe, you think you can be alright.

“just hold me,” you murmur.

because it’s love that fills the holes and makes you forget grief. even if it’s just for a little while.

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nininikki · 1 year

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𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐘: 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 + 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

summary! — wedding headcanons for the aot boys + hange

warnings! — mentions of sex, slight suggestiveness, pregnancy, rich people (erwin and armin), a bit of angst on reiner’s

author’s note! — this was so fun to write. got to live my dream of marrying every single one of them 🙌🏽

word count! — 2.4k

ERWIN SMITH

erwin’s got old, old, old money, and what better way for him to spend it than on your dream wedding?

you’re his dream, his baby, his queen, so of course he married you in a castle (will get to that later, but yes! a castle!)

it wasn’t random at all for erwin to surprise you with sporadic vacations, so when he took you to greece one summer—where you traipsed around on beaches with your lover and let him dangle fruits above your mouth—you hadn’t suspected anything.

but one night you two are coming home from dinner, you’re full of pasta but fat with happiness and you’re not sure things can get any better.

until erwin leads you onto the private beach behind your house, where he kneels into the sand at your feet and asks you to be his wife.

of COURSE, you said yes (after you nearly tackled him into the sand whilst screaming your head off like a decapitated chicken)

now, i imagine him proposing with like a nice big diamond that can be seen on your finger from miles away.

he just wants everyone who sees you to know you’re happily married.

now, the wedding…

this man doesn’t know what it is to hold back.

everything is perfect. perfect, perfect, perfect. like straight out of an old disney movie.

you guys get married on one of his family’s old properties in france, ahem, the castle i mentioned earlier.

it’s actually majestic. beautiful autumn scenery, endless space, the perfect amount of solitude

(you were so tempted to spend your honeymoon—and maybe the rest of your life—there but erwin had other plans, obviously)

but everything was incredible—the food: amazing. the decorations: even more amazing.

(which was partly erwin’s doing. he’d sit in bed with you late at night, reading glasses perched over his nose, and pick out chairs and champagne glasses and different flower arrangements. he’s just so perfect.)

you had many, many guests so it was wedding gifts galore.

his parents—we’ll call them mr. and mrs. smith—gifted y’all a house out in the french countryside.

it was a dream, and you had the dreamiest, most perfect man to share it with! 🥹💘🪽🪽

bonus: erwin took you to so many places for your honeymoon. trying new foods in south korea, cruising on his yacht in brazil, and shopping sprees in london (you’re also pretty sure you two conceived, like, ten babies on his yacht)

EREN JAEGER

now, listen…

the love this man has for you is infinite and insurmountable, hence why his proposal wasn’t even planned.

let me explain!

he wakes up one morning and the first thing he sees is you. still asleep and cheek smushed over your stack of pillows, just existing as the perfection you were, and something snapped.

you were beautiful, you were special, you were his. why hadn’t he married you yet? why hadn’t he done something to guarantee he got to wake up to this sight every morning?

so, a few minutes later when you wake up, you’re ambushed by a hoard of kisses and ‘i love you’s.

he punctuates each kiss with a persistently dazed, “marry me,” and by the time he stops to let you catch your breath, fresh tears begin to sting at the corners of his eyes.

excitedly, sleepily, passionately, you accept. (& also wrapped your arms around his neck and practically glued yourself there the entire day)

the months spent wedding planning are tedious but oh so worth it.

eren hadn’t exactly got around to buying a ring, so that was its own difficult journey

(he wanted you to have something as special and perfect as you were. i can see him doing an emerald, maybe???—it reminds me of his eyes ok—or possibly just a regular diamond)

eren’s kind of a diva, but it’s sooo cute.

“what do you mean peonies aren’t in season? my fiancée wants peonies, she’s getting ‘em.” “eren, honey, i can do without the—” “shhh, baby, i’m negotiating.”

winter wedding! you two get married in a beautiful ballroom! lots of regal vibes. beautiful decorations, ornate setting, there was even a live band 🥹

eren sees you walking down the aisle and cries.

like trying not to ugly cry but it’s no use because the tears have fallen and the snot is halfway out his nose.

he’s in love like that.

bonus: hawaii honeymoon 🌺 the two of you splash around in the waters for what feels like forever, then spend even longer drying under the sun.

REINER BRAUN

shortly after finding out you were pregnant, (3 months to be exact) reiner popped the question.

the two of you, but especially you, were a horrid whirlpool of emotions. excited to be pregnant, scared to be pregnant, wracked with confusion and fear and what have you.

hence why you said no the first time he asked.

you figured reiner was only doing it out of some guilt or moral obligation, and couldn’t bring yourself to say yes knowing he’d be marrying you out of anything but love.

but, ohhhhhhh, if you knew how bad this man loved you.

the way he’d talk about you to any and everyone—bertholdt, annie, eren, jean, his mom, the poor cashier at target who made the dire mistake of asking if the bouquet in his grasp was for anyone special. anyone who’d listen, really!

the way he already had the ring bought!!! before he even knew you were pregnant! you’re the love of his life, and he needs to marry you. no matter the circumstances.

so, he asks again. and this time he’s sure to put all your worries to rest.

“i don’t care what happens tomorrow, i’m still gonna want to marry you. whether you’re pregnant or—god forbid—you’re not. you’re always gonna be everything i want, so just…please. please let me be your husband.”

by the time reiner’s finished, there isn’t a dry eye in the room.

(albeit the two of you are alone. but shhh)

you accept his proposal, and he’s lifting you off your feet and spinning you in giddy, newly-engaged circles.

wedding planning is fairly easy, seeing as reiner wants to do it all. like won’t let you lift a finger.

“un-unh, baby. don’t you worry your pretty head about it. i’ve got it all covered.” “rei, i’m pregnant, not stupid. give me the computer.”

although, you (and the baby braun inside you) grow to adore cake testing. reiner has to tear you away from a chocolate cake, kicking and screaming. (and he does it with nothing but love in his eyes)

reiner sees you walking down the aisle in your beautiful dress with your hand resting over your bump and actually cries. like the sight is too much for him to bear and he’s sniffling horribly by the time you both say i do.

when it’s time to “kiss the bride” reiner shamelessly tongues you down in front of who and whatever (by the end of the kiss you had honestly forgotten the two of you weren’t alone)

summer backyard wedding!!! (mainly because reiner wanted to grill. & you definitely weren’t complaining.) a good 1/3 of your wedding photos include you tearing into a barbecue sausage or burying your face in a slice of cake.

when you and reiner get home that night, you’re both fat with adoration and thoroughly seasoned ribs. you’re happy. you’re married.

bonus: reiner rents a house in the countryside and you guys honeymoon there. you revel in the peace and quiet and solitude. (it’s all you’re getting before the baby comes)

ARMIN ARLERT

just like erwin, armin’s got olddddd money

it’s not like he keeps it a secret but he’s definitely shy about it.

he wanted to be sure you were 100% for him & you obviously were

so he proposed to you while on a weekend getaway to nantucket.

you spent a beautiful two weeks at his house there. drinking champagne on beaches, letting him teach you how to play tennis (you suck horribly), perusing around on his amazingly spacious property.

it was perfect

“i think you already know why i brought you here,” he’d say while getting down on one knee.

of course you had no idea, and you had to fight the urge to scream your throat raw right there!

(there, being the picturesque garden of wildflowers behind his home that he had planted just for this occasion)

i feel like your engagement ring is beautiful, oval cut diamond that weighs your finger down 😵‍💫😵‍💫

wedding planning is a crazy beautiful mess with him.

you both have big families that live all over the world, and you just get so caught up trying to please everyone

armin has to remind you that this is your wedding, and whatever you want goes

side note: he’s willing to pay stupid amounts of money to get you whatever you want

“omg babe, this girl on instagram had horses for her wedding. how cool is that?” “horses? yeah, we can do that. i’ll just have to call my guy & figure it all out. but don’t worry, baby, you’ll get all the horses you want.”

armin just screams summer hamptons wedding!

like beautiful flower arrangements, tranquil sounds of the water in the distance, and hors d’oeuvres that were to die for.

armin thinks you look like a princess walking out of a dream as you come down the aisle, and the feeling is only amplified when he lifts the veil away from your face and kisses you as your husband for the first time.

the wedding gifts are crazy

from designer heels, (courtesy of mikasa) to mansions in germany (courtesy of armin’s inheritance)

bonus: you honeymoon in the maldives on a property his family owns 😵‍💫 sex by the ocean goes so crazy

CONNIE SPRINGER

this mf screeeeeaaamms elopement.

let me elaborate!

he’s got a very “you only live once” mentality, which isn’t helped by the fact that he’s madly in love with you.

you’re reading on the couch as he rests his head on your lap when he asks, “hey, why haven’t we gotten married yet?” “well, connie people usually wait for that sort of thing.” “yeah but, like, what are we waiting for?”

leads to him having a whole speech about how life and how grateful how his life can change at any moment but you’re the only constant you want in it (sappy baby)

“i could die in eighty years or eighty days, and you’re the person i’d wanna be married to. so, fuck it. why wait?” “are you serious, connie?” “come to the courthouse with me right now and see just how serious i am.”

thirty minutes later, you’re parked outside the nearest courthouse with your now fiancé, clammy fingers intertwined as you two plant reassuring kisses over each other’s faces.

“you can” kiss. “change your mind if you want” kiss kiss. “& we can” kiss kiss kiss. “go home & forget this happened.” “why would i do that, con?”

sasha acts as your witness, and the two of you are married not even three hours later

when it’s time to kiss the bride, connie takes advantage of the practically empty room and doesn’t hold back as he makes out with you. the poor officiant can attest to that.

it finally starts to dawn on you when you’re leaving the courthouse, hand in hand with your husband (even thinking the word made you feel tingly inside) and you’re letting him kiss you in plain sight.

not caring for the passerby’s that may be entering or exiting or whatever. why would you? you’re married!!

connie lifts you off your feet twirls you around, finally breaking away from the kiss to rasp, “my wife, my wife, my wife.”

you two go to the mcdonald’s across the street and have your first meal together as husband and wife (which includes an oreo mcflurry that you feed to each other because you’re in love like that)

the entire rest of the day you can’t stop telling strangers that you’re married

the florist at the flower store when they ask what the special occasion is? connie can’t hold back ecstatic giggles as he says, “oh, just getting some flowers for my girl. we’re newlyweds.”

you go to get your ring sized at the jeweler’s and the lovely woman helping asks, “celebrating anything?” oh, if only she knew what was about to commence.

that evening, you rent go carts and race around on the track until you’re dizzy and limp.

you return home that night and fuck like rabbits go straight to sleep!

bonus: cross country road trip honeymoon! just you and him and the endless skies and roads ahead. there’s no place you’d rather be.

HANGE ZOË

the entire time they propose, they’re a stuttering mess.

don’t get me wrong, it’s the cutest thing ever, but usually hange is pretty quick-witted and funny.

so, when you’re coming home from work and gingerly following the trail of maroon roses that leads to your room, you’re utterly delighted to see hange standing at the other end of it.

the delight quickly turns to stark shock when they get down on one knee.

hange is all blushy and shy and sooooo not like they are normally. it’s insane

“would you want to, uh, do me the honor of…um, idontfuckinknow…would you marry me, is what i’m trying to ask.”

and of course, you would marry them.

you practically tackle them to the ground before they can get all the syllables out, which leads to you knocking the ring in their hand from their grip.

you spend the next thirty minutes looking for it. kissing and hugging as you crawl over the rose-covered floor.

“i was so nervous to ask” kiss. “cause i didn’t think you’d say yes.” kiss kiss. “but you did.” kiss kiss kiss. “i’m so happy, honey.” kiss. “of course i said yes.” kiss. “you make me happier” kiss. “than anything.” kiss kiss. “i can’t wait to marry you.” “same here, honey. but we really gotta find that ring. it cost me a pretty penny.”

you end up finding the ring and once you do, you never take it off.

it’s practically glued to your finger now.

hange is such a diva with wedding planning but you love it

but it’s only because they want your wedding to be the best thing ever (and it is)

beach wedding!!!! (so hange can wear a shirt that’s halfway unbuttoned while the wind blows through their hair ufieiwjejr)

but no seriously, the most beautiful, picturesque, serene wedding ever.

when it’s time to kiss the bride, hange kisses you so hard their glasses almost break (cue levi gagging next to y’all)

you and hange feed each other respective cake slices during the reception.

you two are a frosting covered mess by the end of it. 💞

bonus: i see you two honeymooning somewhere tropical. hange loves any wild animal and would def wanna be in the ocean chasing around stingrays or smth. my lil cutie patootie.

#attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan #eren jaeger x black reader #connie springer x black reader #hange zoë x black reader #erwin smith x black reader #armin arlert x black reader #reiner braun x black reader #wedding headcanons #attack on titan x you #fluff #angst

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arbiterlexultionis · 7 months

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Instant Eternity Pt. 2

So, Danny has the infi-map and uses it to go on vacations and the like to enjoy his now eternal life. The infinite realms are Infinite, really and truly. But locations within the realms correlate to spaces in the “real” world, so what happens when you travel beyond what should be the ends of the “real” universe in the realms? You find other universes. All universes, realities, multi and Omni verses connect with the Infinite Realms, hence the name kind of implying the existence of infinite realms. With the infimap Danny’s able to visit and explore these other planes of existence to his hearts content, and over the course of his travels makes a number of close friends.

He can’t just say goodbye forever, can’t leave them with no way to call for aid or call for small talk so, he comes up with a bit of a crazy plan to make sure all his new friends can meet each other and stay in contact. A combination of the infi-map, Fenton portal technology, time medallions/assistance from clockwork, help from the yeti’s and maybe even some help from Dr. Strange or Dr. Fate all come together to make a private club that connects to who knows how many dimensions. In a Ghost King AU his royal palace has all the normal palace stuff but surrounding Phantom’s Keep is a whole town for inter-dimensional travelers. The portals themselves are all in a massive tower, either leaning tower of Pisa style or a massive clock tower because of how much Clockwork helped out, arranged kind of like how all the statues of the avatars are arranged in the air temple in ATLA.

Danny’s sitting at his desk in his office while 7 Gokus, 13 Vegitas, 4 Beeruses(Beerusi? A pod of Beerus? Flock?) 10 Piccolos and 1 Gohan crowd the rest of his office. “Two Hundred and Forty. 2-4-fucking-0. That is the number of of Territories that have lodged official complaints about the ruckus your fights have been causing! Queen Patet sent a fifty seven page long letter asking me to give every single one of your dimensions eternal travel bans to all of your dimensions and every dimension where even one of you exist. Because the shockwaves from your fights were still strong enough to shatter glass when they reached her Territory. The territory of Vitrum, which makes Fucking Everything from glass! Including the Goddamn Buildings! They build their cities in massive glass orbs! More than thirteen hundred buildings torn down in one day. Including every single hospital they had. You fought for nine days straight. Get out. Get the crap baskets out of my office. Now. Go home. Let the Bulmas know that they’re paying the reparations.” They all file out of the office, Vegitas and the flock of Beerus mumbling about how they shouldn’t have made their buildings out of glass if they didn’t want them to get broken. The one(1) brain cell the group had, otherwise known as Gohan, was apparently the only one with manners, profusely apologizing and offering to help with the clean up even as he got shooed out of the office.

More then a dozen Quirckless!Izuku vigilantes come together to form a great big club to share intel that match’s across their various worlds, analyze quirks, train and give each other therapy. It’s all going well. Then the Batmen stop developing contingency plans for literally all the beings they meet here juuust long enough for their adoption senses to start tingling. The Dad Mights, Dadzawas and Dad for Ones put aside their differences to combat this new threat. The Spider-men are sitting in a corner grateful that their spider senses and Peter tingles helped them avoid all that nonsense. Until the Iron Dads show up. Then they’re all to busy running and cursing their Parker luck to be grateful.

Passing through a gateway to another universe that isn’t yours require approval from no less then half the visitors from that verse and/or Danny himself. Same thing goes for leaving the compound to explore the Realms.

All the adoption addicts from across the multiverse take one look at Danny, listen to all the rumors about his parents and go “Mine!”. Luckily for Danny he doesn’t really have to to worry to much, doesn’t even notice really, because 2.3 seconds after they did that they all turned to each other and went “No! Not yours, Mine!” The infighting has kept them busy ever sense. However, according to an ancient, sacred prophecy(something that Clockwork mentioned in passing 2 months ago) they will eventually all decide that Danny having a proper support network is more important then who his favorite supporter is. So he’s going to get parented so hard by all three hundred and eighty of them. More moms, dads, ma’s, pa’s aunts and uncles then he’ll know what to do with.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #fic prompt #dp au #story prompt #writing prompt #danny phantom au #dc x dp #dp #dp x dc #temporal tourist #ghost king danny #dp x bnha #dp x mcu #dp x marvel #dp x mha

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screamingatanemptyroom · 2 months

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Please Fix the Story - pt 31 The Void Between - END

Last part. (Although I do plan for at least one or two side parts. One definitely from Liam's perspective. Maybe one from Adonis if I feel like it).

Guys, I started this story forever ago. Took a huge break when my life fell apart. I picked up the pieces, and never really thought I would get back to doing the things I love again. But here I am. Finishing this story. I'm so excited.

Please enjoy.

Masterpost linked here.

________________________________

“System!” I shouted into the white void, one hand still holding Liam’s tightly. “Stop hiding!”

THUD

Adonis had fallen to the ground, released from my power that had bound him. He stood up shakily, wiping a small amount of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Where did you take me?” He demanded angrily. “Where is this place?”

“This?” I looked around with a slight smile. “This place is the End.”

“The End?”

I thought for a moment. “Or perhaps the Beginning? It depends on your point of view, I suppose.” I gestured around at the blank whiteness around us “This is the void between, outside of the lower and higher realms, outside of stories. There is nothing here... nothing except memories.”

Liam stood protectively near me. “Where is the System?”

“It’s here. It’s watching. It just doesn’t want to admit that it lost. It views me as weak, pointless…”

Blue flames streaked out from out of sight towards my head. Sensing the magical attack, I dodged and waved a hand, countering it with my own power.

“YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE” The bright blue words briefly appeared in the void, then disappeared just as fast, leaving nothing but an afterimage behind.

“BEL!” Liam had fallen when I dodged, and reached towards me, panicked.

“It’s okay. That was just a test.” With a grunt of pain, I stood back up again. “REALLY?” I spoke out again. “A sneak attack? Are you really that pathetic?” There was no answer, the System was hiding again.

“Hey!" Adonis had recovered from his shock, and resumed being a pest. “Bel! Tell me what’s going on, now!”

I didn’t even look in his direction. “No.”

“What?! What do you mean, no?!”

"I mean: 'No'." Still looking for any trace of the System, I cast a sympathetic glance towards Liam. “Poor guy.”

Liam caught on quick. “Don’t worry, Bel, I’ll help him!” He cleared his throat, turning towards the enraged hero. “’No’ is an English word used to give a negative response. In this case, the word ‘no’ would indicate a refusal to your request for more information. Similar sounding words, such as ‘know’ with a ‘k’ can sometimes be confused depending on the context clues, but that word is generally used to indicate knowledge rather than refusal. So if she had said ‘I know’ instead…”

“SHUT UP!” Adonis screamed, swinging at fist at Liam, who let him punch him in the chest without any apparent pain. Adonis instead withdrew his hand with a screech, one of his fingers clearly bent at a weird angle.

“Your chest breaks fingers?” I asked with a raised brow.

Liam pulled his collar down, showing off a coat of black scales with a grin. “Dragon skin is tough. Also known as the ‘idiot-tax’.”

During this exchange, I continued searching with my power, trying to feel the system’s presence. “Seems fair.”

“Why is it hiding?” Liam asked quietly.

“It doesn’t want to face the truth.” At my answer, Adonis stopped groaning and looked insulted.

“Why do you answer HIS questions and not MINE?”

“Because he’s my husband… and you’re annoying.” I turned to Liam. “Are you curious?”

Liam smiled at my question. “Very.”

“Then I’ll explain it to you as we go.” I looked around again, sensing that the System had hid itself. “It’s hiding within this space, and so I’ll need to force it out. Since it wants to hide the truth, I’ll show exactly that: the truth."

My power swept around us, filling everything.

"It all started here. In this void.”

The world around us changed, showing infinite portals, each leading to a new world, glowing with various degrees of golden light.

“There are infinite stories, and therefore infinite lower realms. Some are stable, filled with energy… some are unstable, collapsing, draining energy from the realms around it.” As I spoke, some of the weaker portals flickered and died. “Each time a world collapsed, the entirety of the lower realms was at risk, a collapse of a universe of worlds and people.”

The golden light of the portals coalesced, forming a vague being of bright blue light. “The System came into being. It's exact origin is unclear. Was it created, another product of the authors or gods beyond our existence that write the stories? Was it just a random event, too much energy organizing into a sentient being?” I stepped closer to the glowing blue figure, staring up at it. “It’s impossible to know. But I do know one thing:”

The figure peered into a portal as it flickered and disappeared. It stared at the empty space for a few moments before shrugging and moving on to the next. “The System isn’t human. It has no understanding of human emotions, motivations, or relationships. It can read the stories, it can see the unfulfilled wishes of the author, but it cannot truly understand why some stories worked and others collapsed.”

Adonis stared at the figure I showed them, a look of frustration and anger creeping across his face. Liam watched with curiosity. They both stayed silent, however, and the System stayed in hiding, so I continued the story.

“The system depends on the survival of the lower realms, but it could not figure out how to save the stories that were disappearing. So it looked for a human partner, someone who could help it figure out what to do.”

The world around us changed again, and we were standing on a college campus. It was a bright sunny day, with students milling about, chatting, laughing, carrying books. We stood in the midst of everything, unseen by the people around us, unable to touch or affect anything we could see. Adonis, recognizing the area, turned pale, trembling as he stood rooted in place. “No.” He whispered. “This is impossible. This isn’t real.”

I smiled at him, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “Of course it isn’t real. This is a memory of the System. No one can travel to this lower realm anymore. It’s destroyed… thanks to you.”

“NO.”

As I searched the memory around us, I could sense the memory... and the System... nearby. “Let’s go.” I grabbed Liam’s hand and ran forward, rushing through the crowds, following the lead that only I could feel. After a brief hesitation, Adonis ran after us.

“The system sensed that someone had broken free from the confines of a story.” I spoke as we moved. All around us there were college students milling about, talking laughing with carefree attitudes. “What had been stable, had become broken, and it was all because of a single individual.”

I pulled Liam to a stop in front of two people, studying both of the figures in the memory with interest.

One was a handsome young man with a playful grin and long hair pulled back with a cord. He was facing another young man, who looked extremely angry.

The other young man was Adonis.

As we looked back and forth between the Adonis in the memory and the one that had followed us through the void, the Adonis next to Liam and I stepped closer, staring at his doppelganger with a weary, contemptuous expression.

“She loves me!” The memory Adonis spoke out. “Stop getting in the way!”

“You know that isn’t right, Adler.” The young man answered with a sigh. “Just because you two grew up together, doesn’t give you ‘dibs’ on her. You two are friends. Ara is my girlfriend.”

Liam raised an eyebrow as we watched the scene around us play out. “Adler?”

“His real name.” I glanced over at Adonis, who looked away. “He changed it to Adonis after he left this lower realm.”

“He CHOSE Adonis?”

“He thought it sounded more heroic.”

“Poor guy.”

“Save your pity.” I pointed back to the memory around us, where Adonis continued to argue with the other college student. Eventually, a young woman walked up, giving a hug to the other man and eyeing Adonis warily.

“Bel…?” Liam sounded concerned and confused, and I didn’t’ blame him.

After all, the woman looked just like me.

It wasn’t exact. There was a bright cheery innocence that this girl carried around her. A naivete, as if she would believe whatever someone told her. Nice, but gullible. She very much lacked my distrustful glares and heavy sarcasm. But the face, body, hair…. All of the outer features were the same.

“It’s not me.” I reassured Liam, who watched the girl with my appearance kiss the college student with a low disgruntled growl. “It’s Arabella. The heroine of this lower realm.”

Adonis stared intently at the woman, obsession in his eyes. “MY heroine.”

“Nope. Not yours. Because you weren’t the hero of your story, were you, Adonis?”

The argument between the three in the memory grew heated. Adonis… Adler… tried to grab Arabella’s hand, and she pulled away with a frustrated expression.

“You were the friend, the side character, the witness to the main romance of the story. But you were unwilling to play that role… to accept your fate.”

“IT WAS NOT MY FATE!” Adonis reached out, but his hand passed through the memory of Arabella. “I WAS THE HERO! I WAS THE ONE SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO LOVE!”

The Adonis in the memory had gone quiet. He reached into his coat, and pulled out a long knife, lunging forward, stabbing the young man and woman in front of him. Only when they were still on the ground, their bodies soaking in the blood pooling beneath them did he seem to recognize what he had done. He fell to his knees, screaming, as the world around his began to distort.

“You broke the story, killed the hero and heroine… and this caught the attention of the System.”

A glowing blue figure appeared in front of the blood-stained Adonis, words appearing around him.

"YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THE STORY."

I looked down at the dead body on the ground with the same face as me, letting out a quiet sigh. “The two of them made a deal. Adonis would be pulled out of the lower realm, become a higher being. He would help the System in fixing the broken lower realms.”

The Adonis in the memory considered for a brief moment, and nodded. As he and the System disappeared, the world they had left behind began to collapse.

“There’s always a cost, though. If you take someone out of a lower realm… the realm is destroyed as a result.” My eyes met Adonis’ as he watched the memory of the deal he made with a dispassionate gaze. All the emotion that had boiled over at the sight of Arabella had faded, and there was nothing, not even remorse. “You knew you were destroying the world if you left. And you did it anyways.”

“They did nothing for me.” His voice was quiet, but vitriol in it was clear. “I should have been the hero of that world… they didn’t deserve survival.”

“Just like Arabella deserved death for not loving you?” At my question his eyes flickered, but he quickly regained calm. “She didn’t die. After all, you’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m not Arabella, Adonis. No matter the physical resemblance.” I smiled. “I’m something much more…”

Another blast of blue flames again came towards me. I pushed back with my own power, defending myself. My magic swept through from the direction the blast had came from, trying to strike back, but it had already disappeared once again.

“Oh you didn’t like that, did you? Are you mad enough to stop hiding, or should I keep talking?”

There was only silence in response. I chuckled grimly, continuing the story.

“Adonis was the one who thought of binding the lower realms to the higher realms. By having the heroes of the lower realms be connected to Adonis, by having him control them and their endings through these ties he called fate, he thought he could influence all of the stories at once, helping them reach a happy ending.” I paused. “How funny that the man who was chosen because he broke free of his fate, chose to bind everyone else even tighter.”

The portals showed up around us again, losing their glow and flickering out at a noticeable pace. “But it didn’t work. The lower realms were failing faster than ever. You contaminated all of the heroes with a part of you, they took on a part of your personality, your obsessive desire with being the center of the universe.”

I thought of all the heroes I had met in the lower realms, how they reacted with the story around them changed. Even kinder heroes like K’lliean in the elven world had shown signs… he almost cracked and tried to force me to be with him when he sensed me pulling away. They all had pieces of Adonis forced on them, tying them to an even worse fate then the broken stories once had.

“Out of desperation, Adonis suggested a new plan. It wasn’t enough to have a prototype ‘hero’ to bind everyone to. They needed a new prototype, a second higher level being.” I hesitated, seeing the realization and pain on Liam’s face but forcing myself to continue. “They needed a villain.”

The world around us changed again, and now we were in a beautiful green world with bright open skies. The System remained hidden, so I continued talking, hoping to goad it into showing itself once again.

“Adonis had always been a fan of fairy tales. Knights, princesses, and the evil monster that kidnapped her: the dragon.”

Dragons flew overhead with roars that shook the earth below. The world was filled with the mighty creatures, flying, fighting, sleeping. Simply existing in this beautiful realm. And right next to us was a large silver dragon, patiently teaching a smaller black one.

Liam stepped closer, tears running down his face. “Grandfather.” His hand passed through the larger form, his hand tightening into a fist.

“They searched though all of the lower realms with dragons, and within one found a young black coated dragon that they felt could be molded into what they needed.” I continued to speak, watching Liam closely. “The System tried to offer a deal, promising power and domination over all the lower realms.”

A blue figure pulled the small dragon away, obviously trying to convince it of something. The young dragon shook his head in response.

“But the dragon said no. He loved his world, his family. He didn’t want to leave, no matter what was offered to him.”

The dragon was enveloped in blue fiery light, disappearing with an inhuman screech of terror. The world around us, similar to Adonis’ world before it, crumpled into itself, fading away into nothing.

My voice dropped to a whisper. “The price of removing someone from the lower realms is always the same, whether they want to leave or not. The young dragon’s world… his family… was destroyed.” I reached out and hugged Liam, who was wracked with silent sobs as he watched his home realm disappear.

“I’m sorry.” I tightened my arms around him, feeling a deep pain within as he slowly composed himself. I was using this story to push the System, to make it angry enough to appear. But I had another motive as well. I wanted Liam to understand everything. To see this. He had the right to know the full truth.

The truth of what I was.

The picture around us faded, showing the young black dragon now in the Villain’s realm, surrounded by forest. He looked around, obviously lost and confused. Words appeared in the sky before him.

YOU ARE THE VILLAIN.

The dragon shook his head no.

YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

A portal appeared and chains shot out, binding the dragon and dragging it into a lower realm. The sight was heartrendingly familiar, and I had to take a deep breath, steadying myself to continue.

“They tried to mold the dragon into the villain they needed. The plan was to force the dragon into multiple realms, placing him as the villain of the story. If he refused to play his part? The realm would be destroyed. The dragon was too kind hearted, and eventually became resigned to sacrificing himself, story after story, realm after realm. Saving the realms but losing himself. The system tied the dragon to the villains of the lower realms, in the bonds of fate, but if anything, that made things even worse.”

The portals in the void reappeared, now most of them becoming unstable and flickering, even previously brightly glowing ones were slowly becoming dim.

“Your plans had brought this whole universe to the brink of destruction, and still Adonis refused to believe that his strategy was wrong. It’s just that the prototype story… the higher realm story… was incomplete.”

I turned towards Adonis, who was glaring at me with unbridled rage. “The knight, the dragon… and now you needed the princess. You were a hero missing your heroine. And so, you told the System to bring you your heroine.”

“Don’t…” Adonis finally spoke up again, but the word was forced out between clenched teeth.

“What? Don’t tell the truth?” I shook my head. “It’s not your secret to hide. It’s my truth to tell.”

“Stop!” He rushed forward, but my dark power wrapped around him again, holding him in place.

“Shush. I’m trying to explain my mysterious origins here.” I sat him down on the ground with my magic, and turned to Liam. I felt nervous, a desperation welling up within me. I wondered as I started to speak again if this is how he felt when I found out he was a dragon. It turned out he didn’t need to worry.

I wasn’t human either.

“Adonis would only accept one heroine.”

“Arabella.” Liam added, watching me carefully.

“Exactly. But that left the system with a problem. Arabella was dead. Even if she survived the stabbing, the entire lower realm had been destroyed by bringing Adonis out. It tried to convince him, but he grew only more desperate. He couldn’t accept the truth.”

I paused, taking a deep breath. “So the system did the only thing it could: it tried to make a new Arabella.”

“But that means…” Liam looked confused, but as realization started to dawn, I ran forward and tackled him.

“GET DOWN!”

The entire space imploded. There was nothing but blue fire, drowning everything. There was no noise, no heat. There was only magic destructive power. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and then slowly faded.

I lifted my head. An enormous being was wrapped around me, protecting me. Liam, who had shifted to his dragon form, continued to shield me, his dark blue eyes looking over me carefully, filled with concern, checking for injuries. I withdrew the magic I had used to protect us both, but I still saw a few burned spots in his scales here and there. Touching his scales with a regretful expression, I whispered. “Sorry.”

I had been goading the system, waiting for it to make its move, but as I told Liam the truth, my attention had shifted for a short moment. And in that moment, the System who had been biding its time, made its move.

“As long as you are safe.” Liam’s reply made me smile. We stared at each other for a few moments, both happy the other was okay.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU DESTROY HIM?!” Adonis’ voice destroyed the special moment. At least he's consistently annoying.

Liam rolled his eyes, the expression a bit strange on a dragon. “How did he survive the fire?” He asked me.

I thought it over, and winced. “My bad, my power was already wrapped around him to hold him down when the System attacked… I must have accidentally protected him.”

“It’s okay, we all make mistakes.” Liam nodded solemnly and comforted me.

“Yeah, maybe next time he’ll get burned to a crisp.”

“You know… I am a dragon… I could help us achieve that goal.”

“Tempting…” I started to respond, but Adonis started shouting again.

“System! Now’s your chance! Destroy the monster!” He pointed at Liam, his face triumphant as he commanded him. “And then we can fix Arabella, and start over with a new villain. We will make the story right, correct everything that is wrong, and retie the strings of Fate to save the universe!”

“…” There was something new that had joined us in this space between realms. A vaguely human shaped being made of blue flames. As it spoke, its voice was neither young or old, soft or deep, it was deeply disturbingly inhuman. The words it spoke appeared in front of us, scrawled across the sky, a reminder of its power.

“YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.”

“System! Destroy it!” Adonis screamed impatiently.

“…” There was no response.

“It can’t.” I finally spoke up, calmly. “It doesn’t want to risk attacking Liam anymore. It had its only chance with that sneak attack and it failed. Facing me head on… there’s no way it can win easily.”

“I don’t understand. The System… it creates fate… it’s a god!”

“You are the one that doesn’t understand. I know what the System is, Adonis, much better than you do." I took a deep breath.

"After all… I’m a part of it.”

In the silence that followed I heard the soft sound of Liam’s sigh as understanding dawned. My heart beat nervously, but I continued to explain.

“The system couldn’t resurrect Arabella, so it split off some of its own power, a new entity that remained only with a limited connection. It used Adonis’ memories of Arabella as a template, but it could never be exact. From the moment of its creation, the created being would grow and change based on new experiences, meetings… to become something new, beyond the confines of what others wanted.”

“YOU WERE AN ERROR.” The system’s inhuman voice was cold.

“I was the only effective thing you’ve ever done to save the lower realms.” Was my even colder response.

“No… you’re Arabella.” Adonis was stuttering, staring at me with horror.

“You always knew I wasn’t her, Adonis." I sighed. "The only thing I can thank you for was that when the system used your memories of a template, it used data, rather than your perception of her. Rather than a perfect heroine deeply in love with you, it created a young woman with a thirst for adventure and learning… and no romantic interest in you whatsoever.”

The system stepped closer, and Liam’s wings spread out widely, protectively.

“THE DEAL IS INVALID. YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.”

“The deal is already done, System. You lost.” I waved my hand, and my power formed into the shape of a sword. It always was my preferred weapon. “If you won’t concede that I won willingly… Then I’ll make you by force.”

As I circled closer, the System stood still, confident. “YOU CANNOT KILL ME. YOU ARE ME!”

I smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

My sword swung, and a limb fell to the ground, disintegrating into blue flame. I held my blade at its neck and it froze.

“I WAS you. But the deals we made changed everything.”

The world around us changed again. The System buzzed with energy, trying to fight it, but I pushed through.

It was time to finish the story.

Liam continued to stand guard, watching Adonis and the System carefully. As my power took over, the world I was showing became clear:

It was me. I was in the villain world, laying on the ground pale and sweating. I was dying.

“After I was created, I only tried to save the lower realms one by one. I refused to listen to Adonis' plans. In his frustration, he tossed me into the villain realm to force me to submit. It was his way of continuing the prototype story. The dragon keeping the princess captive. But Adonis and the System didn’t count on one thing:"

In the vision I showed, Liam in his human form knelt beside me, his expression despairing as he gently wiped the sweat from my forehead. I held his hand, my eyes focused on him and no one else. Adonis stood nearby, ignored by both of us in the memory, watching with a hateful, weary expression.

“I decided I would rather die in the villain realm, die by my husband’s side, rather than submit to the horrible fate you and the System had devised.”

The System in the memory appeared next to human Liam, pushing him aside, and approaching the dying Bel. Liam screamed with fear and rage, trying to return to his dragon form, but was frozen into place half-transformed.

“YOU CANNOT DIE.” The system’s inhuman voice was quiet, but deafening at the same time.

The memory Bel forced a smile. “Better dead and free than trapped by your chains.”

“I CANNOT LET YOU DIE. IT WOULD DESTROY ME, DESTROY EVERYTHING. BUT YOU REFUSE TO LIVE… WE ARE AT AN IMPASSE.”

“Then how about we make a wager?” The weakness in her voice couldn’t hide the determination of her words.

I looked at the System, still held in place at the point of my sword. “So, we made a deal. I would travel the realms, save them, gather the energy from each of the recovered worlds.”

In the memory, blocks of text appeared in front of the dying Bel. She read through the deal with a frown. I watched the vision, shaking my head in frustration.

“The stakes were clear. If I could save enough worlds… could build enough power, separate from the System, I would be able to break free from the ending of this prototype story. To write my own fate. But… if I failed even one… the System would take all the energy I gathered, and I would be forced to submit to the fate designed to me. To be a mindless, soulless heroine, playing her role and nothing else.”

“Foolish.” Adonis was standing, glaring at me with blood shot eyes. Liam growled in response, placing his enormous form between us, but Adonis ignored him, continuing to speak. “You just had to agree to be a heroine, and we could have saved everyone together. Instead, you risked everything, left an unstable universe to try to save it world by world.”

“I chose to remain free. To not enslave these worlds to fate.” The System sensed my distraction and tried to strike, and so I pressed my sword of magic forward, dripping flames from the cut in its shapeless neck.

“The deal was designed for me to fail.” Again the picture around us changed. It was still me, but in many different forms. A student. An assassin. An elf. World after world, flipping faster and faster until it was a visual blur. “You chose miserable roles for me. I had no memories, no knowledge of the story except what was provided for me. I was alone… or I was supposed to be.”

Another change. Now the System in the memory was talking with Liam. As he watched the memory, Liam beside me shook his head, as if trying to clear it.

“Liam had nothing the system wanted but his status as a villain. If I lost, he would play the perfect villain. No shortcuts, no mercy for the weak…become a puppet for the system. But the system wanted more.”

Text appeared in front of Liam in the memory. As the nature of the deal became clear, the real Liam beside me let out a moan.

“A sacrifice.” His voice was filled with pain, barely audible. “Every lower realm I had saved in the past by playing my role. How many worlds would that be? Countless lives. Innocents.”

“The System would absorb them for energy if we lost.”

“It asked for my soul. Saving those worlds by letting myself be defeated or killed in those realms was all that I could cling to when I was despairing. If I sacrificed them… “ He paused, his dragon eyes showing despair. “It wouldn’t have to brainwash me to become a villain. I would have already taken that step myself.”

“Liam would be given the chance to follow me. His memories wiped each time. He would have no idea who I was or how to help me. He would as always be the villain in the story. A bad deal.” The Liam in the memory agreed, and disappeared. “ I glanced at Liam beside me. “But you took it anyways, desperate to help me, to stay by my side. Even though you would more likely end up a mindless, soulless slave.”

“I would never abandon you, Bel. Not if there was any chance I could help you.”

"You did." I reassured him. "I had nearly given into despair by the time you joined me. You gave me purpose, helped me forward. I would have been lost, along with everything else." I glanced over at Adonis who was shaking in rage.

“Adonis made a deal too, of course, but much different from ours. He wanted to follow, but wanted his memories, wanted to know the full story. The System only allowed him limited access, into a few worlds. It worried that if Adonis followed me everywhere I would be motivated to resist longer, as I had in the higher realms before.”

Adonis in the memory accepted a deal, and disappeared as well. There was only the system left.

“You thought I would give up, or that I would fail to fix a world. I was supposed to accept my fate. Instead, I refused. I resisted. I fixed every single world I went to. I won. Which brought us back to the higher realm.”

“NO.” The system beside me pushed back with all of its power, erasing the memory I had shown around us. I tried my best to shield Liam and I, but as I concentrated on my own dark magic, I heard someone running up behind me.

“You ruined everything!” Adonis had a knife, trying to slash at my back as he drew closer. The System kept attacking, forcing all of my attention on it. I was helpless to stop the attack from the hero.

Fortunately I wasn't alone.

A dragon tail swung out, knocking Adonis a fair distance where he fell to the ground with a crunch. He lay still, his hand grabbing at the hilt of his knife where it protruded from his side after he landed on it.

“How…?” He touched the blood spilling from the wound, shocked.

“You brought it on yourself.” Liam growled. “Also, why is your only response to rejection stabbing? You seriously need better coping mechanisms.”

I laughed, but couldn’t lose focus on the battle at hand. I turned to the system, who had stopped attacking “Now that this story is done, all bets are complete.” I waved a hand, a wave of dark power covering the void around us.

Liam’s eyes blinked, and then cleared, a sense of timelessness within them. He rubbed his head against me. “Bel. You did it.”

I smiled. “Thanks to you.”

Adonis had changed as well. His face was pale, then red with anger, then pale again as he continued to lose blood from his side. “You cheated, System! You promised I would keep my memories! How did…”

“It wasn’t the system, Adonis.” I interrupted. “This last story, us repeating the Higher Realm… it was me. I gained power because I wanted a different ending to OUR story, and this is the ending I chose. Not one with me dying in the villain realm, with Liam and I accepting a terrible deal in a desperate attempt to save one another. A better ending.”

Adonis struggled to his feet, sneering. “So what? THIS is it? Your so-called happy ending? You become a villainess instead of a heroine and get to stay in the villain realm with that monster? Big deal.” He spat on the ground, the spit mixed with blood from the wounds on his mouth. “The System and I will find a real heroine. Not a FAKE one like you. We’ll restart the story, and fate will save us all, with the villain and villainess being destroyed!”

I laughed. A true, villainess cackle. It echoed in the vast emptiness of the Void, seeming to go on for ages.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Who told you my goal was to be the villainess?”

The System began flickering, like a candle going out.

“YOU MUST ACCEPT…”

“My goal was to be the new System.” I swung the sword in my hand, and the already fading system fell to pieces. “To destroy fate itself.”

The last of the blue flames fizzled out with a soft sound. If an inhuman machine-like existence could sigh with relief, I would have sworn that is what I heard. The System was gone.

There was only me left.

Adonis screamed at my actions. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“I gained enough power in my travels to be fully independent of the System. That is why it feared me. Why it tried to destroy me in the end. But now its gone. As is your foolish fate.”

“Every realm will be destroyed! Without a prototype… without a guide… all of those worlds will be lost!”

“No Adonis.” I stepped closer to him, and he shuddered in fear at the power I wielded, moving backwards. “Those worlds will be free. Some strong, some broken and needing help. But I’d rather spend the rest of my existence helping worlds one by one then ever attempting what you and the System tried to do.”

“It’s impossible to save them all!” He hissed, his voice cracking with pain and terror.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying.” I shrugged, looking over at Liam. “I hope you don’t mind, dear. He’s not wrong when he says it’s an impossible task.”

“Traveling with you to different realms for all eternity? How horrible for me.” Liam laughed. “Now there’s fate I can get behind.”

I turned back to Adonis. “You see… he’s fine with it.”

“I’ll have to make a sling to carry future eggs if we’re always going to be traveling…” Liam muttered to himself. I ignored him, continuing to stare at the former hero.

“So what now, Bel?” He scowled. “Are you going to kill me? Torture me? Your villainous plans don’t scare me!”

“I don’t have to do any of that, Adonis… or should I say Adler?” A villain laugh sounded out again. “You have much to answer for: How many have you killed in your quest to be a ‘hero’? How many have lives have you destroyed in your desire to impose fate on the lower realms?" He shook his head, trying to deny my words, but it was too late.

"Killing you? No. I have a much better ‘fate’ in store for you:” Reaching out, my dark power curled around him, healing his wound from his side and lifting him up in the air

“You will be banished to a lower realm. To live out your days as an insignificant side character.”

His eyes widened with shock. “NO! YOU CAN’T!!!”

“By day, you will remember nothing… but every night, your memories of the higher realms will be returned to you, just enough so you can always live in regret for what you have done.”

“NO!”

I looked at the man I had once thought of as a friend.

“You always told me to accept my fate. Well now, you must accept YOUR fate, Adonis. Goodbye.” My power covered him, and he disappeared, forever.

Only Liam and I were left.

“Soo…” I looked up at the dragon. “No issues with me being a multidimensional being, whose origin comes from a homicidal fate-obsessed system?”

Liam’s serpentine face grinned, and with a brief covering of smoke he turned back into a human. “No problems here!” He reached out and hugged me. “So what now? We travel the lower realms? Save worlds?”

“Yeah, but Liam…”

“So many different weddings to plan…” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “I wonder if we can visit old worlds? I’d love to let the Blood Wolves celebrate with us.”

“I think that could be arranged… Liam…”

“Yes, Bel.” his deep blue eyes shining with joy as they met my own.

“Can you put on clothes, first?”

He looked down at his naked human form, and then back up at me, hugging me tighter. “Sorry, I don’t have extra clothes in the void.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Where did my shy and modest dragon go?”

“He remembers at least four different weddings we’ve had in different worlds.” His smile widened. “Now that we’re finally alone, no spying system, or stalking heroes… I feel like we have very important things to discuss.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Like dragon eggs?”

“Bel!” He gave me a fake shocked expression. “I was going to discuss the weather! But now that you’ve brought it up…”

I laughed again at the evil villain dragon. The villainous minion. The support spouse. My husband the dragon.

“Sure, Liam. Then when we’re ready… we’ll go travel the realms. Visit some old friends. Save some worlds.”

No more heroes.

No more villains.

No more Fate.

Just us.

________________________________

In a lower realm…

“Are you ready?” Adam, his tall form dressed up in a fancy suit, held out a hand towards me. He didn't look too different to how he had seemed in high school, his features more mature, his eyes wiser. The look of brotherly affection hadn't changed at all, however.

“Of course!” I grinned and took his hand, looking at his face. “Are you crying?”

“What? No!” He wiped his eyes quickly. “Just shocked at how much my little sister has grown up! Seems like yesterday you were a goofy highschooler chasing that bozo Jake around."

“You grew up too.” I smiled. “When is Jessica due?”

His expression grew soft. “Just 2 more months. I told her she should take time off, but she likes running the café. Says people watching is her pleasure in life." He glanced back at me. “Speaking of which, are they going to hire a substitute to teach calculus while you’re gone?”

“They’re going to have to. I’m not spending my honeymoon teaching math, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe you became a teacher… and a calculus teacher of all things… I thought you hated it.”

“I’m somewhat of an expert on the topic. Plus, I feel the need to spread the… joy… of learning calculus to others.”

“I feel sorry for your students.” he shuddered. "At least you don't spray them."

“Nope, that's only for brother behavior modification.” I laughed out loud, and Adam shook his head at my signature villainess sound.

“Good thing Liam likes your craziness.”

I shrugged. “He wouldn’t have me be any other way.”

We walked forward, stepping up to the beginning of the aisle. I grabbed the white skirt of my wedding gown in one hand, holding Adam’s hand with my other, as the wedding march played.

At the front of the church, Liam, dressed in a suit and looking slightly nervous waited. As I moved towards him, our eyes met. His dark blue eyes, the same in every world, lit up with joy, despite the countless weddings we’ve had before.

Different realms. Different bodies. The same souls. The same love.

Well… not everything was the same.

Wait until he finds out about my surprise. I laughed silently. The egg sling is finally going to be of use.

I took Liam's outstretched hand, and we spoke our vows once more, surrounded by our friends and family of this realm.

Promising to stay by each other’s side.

Forever.

#writing #please fix the story #ending #hope you guys like it #fantasy #magic #dragons #doesn't feel real

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