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cleo-fox · 11 months

Text

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?” he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation.

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later.

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together.

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it.

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh.

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit.

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net.

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly.

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar.

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say.

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine.

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee.

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tva loki x reader

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byfulcrums · 6 months

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been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

#i'll make more of these later #i'm just very bored and i love rtte #race to the edge #rtte #how to train your dragon #httyd #httyd rtte #toothless #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #fishlegs ingerman #dagur the deranged #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #heather the unhinged #avis' post

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 months

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Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #alya deserves better #nino deserves better #My queendom for a team show #I was promised a team show!#Why even give the boys powers if you don't want the boys to have screentime?

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cheapshrimpysheep · 11 months

Text

Spring of Canathus (AKA: They're Babies)

SUMMARY: They drank water that ended up turning them into babies. You were in charge of taking care of them while the rest of the students go looking for the antidote. What will they be like as babies?

CHARACTERS: Overblot Students (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia & Malleus)

TAGS: Bullet Points, GN Reader, Fluff, Cute

WORD COUNT: An average of 350 words per character. More or less. This is distributed in a different way than I usually do.

COMMENTS: Yes, a post about what it would be like if they were babies. But I have a good excuse for this: It is canon in the Hercules TV show and I even remember watching this episode when I was younger. Episode 50 of the first season: Hercules and the Spring of Canathus. The Spring of Canathus is a pool which reverses age. Pain and Panic use it on Hercules and other character in the episode, turning them into babies.

I hope you enjoy 🧸🍼

CONTEXT: Seven bottles of a supposedly new water were delivered to NRC Housewardens. A small sample. But when they drink it they turn into babies. Sam doesn't have the antidote, but he have the information of where the spring is that they need to get the babies back to normal. The other students you know from the dorm went to get the water and you were in charge of taking care of the babies. Grim went to look for the spring with the others because he didn't want to deal with babies.

You take care of them in Ramshackle Dorm.

Riddle drank the water because it would be bad manners to refuse it. Or because of some strange rule from the Queen of Hearts.

Tantrums, a lot of tantrums.

He is an "independent" baby. You will probably lose sight of him sometimes because he started walking/crawling around to explore the house.

He always wants to eat sweets. You'll find him from time to time sneaking into the kitchen looking for cookies or something like that.

He bites anyone who irritates him. Maybe even you. But in your case, if you pretend that he hurt you a lot, he will start crying with regret and hug you.

If he gets mad at someone and you show up, he'll point to the person who annoyed him as if he's complain to you. Kind of like the "I'm gonna tell mom" thing.

When you hold him up and give him affection, he will respond with a lot of affection too and laugh a lot. But after that he will always want to be with you and be jealous of the other babies.

When you scold him and tell him not to do something again he will start crying and hug you as an apology, but he will never disobey you.

Leona drank the water, because why not?

Half the time he is sleeping which makes him peaceful. But the other half when he's awake, he's a little terror.

Like a baby lion, he wants to play, which means play fighting with other babies, so you are always separating him from the others.

He will bite and scratch you, without leaving very deep marks, because he wants to play. And you decide that it's preferable for him to bite and scratch you than the other babies.

He won't leave your side because he is lazy and you are the one who entertains him the most and gives him food. And he will always want to sleep either on your lap or on your chest.

He'll complain with those baby lion roars that sound more like grumpy meows.

If you hug him or give him too much affection, he will push you away with his little hands. But if you're not too clingy he'll headbutt your cheeks lovingly.

When he's calmer, he'll lick any small wounds he may have inflicted on you while he was playing.

If you buy toys for him, buy toys for him to bite.

There is a high chance of him attacking your cushions, sofas, curtains, etc. He will probably break things like a cat throwing a glass off the table on the floor.

When you seriously scold him that's the only time he'll cry.

Azul drank the water because he thought that if it was good he could make a deal to sell it at Mostro Lounge.

Cry baby!

He will be crying constantly at first. Until you realize he wants to go into the water.

You fill a bathtub, take his clothes off and put him in it. He turns into a little octopus merbaby.

But he is still not satisfied. After analysing the water for a second he started crying again. You then assume that he wants sea water, so you go get a bunch of salt from the kitchen and pour it all in there. Now he laughs happily.

You go to Sam's to buy some toys for Azul to play in the bathtub.

Problem: He will cry whenever you are not with him.

When you are with him in the bathroom and with one arm in the bathtub, if you get ready to get up, he will grab your arm with his little tentacles so you don't leave.

Maybe you buy Sam an aquarium to put Azul in so he can be in the room with you and the other babies.

He will cry whenever he sees you cuddling another baby. He also wants your affection!

He absolutely loves it when you pick him up.

You will end up with a lot of suction cup marks on your arms.

He's the type of baby that puts everything in his mouth and you have to be careful.

Jamil was the one who drank the water because whenever Kalim receives food he has to make sure it isn't poisoned.

He is one of the least problematic babies. He's a very quiet baby, which worries you a little.

He doesn't throw tantrums, but he doesn't seem to laugh much either. He also seems undecided whether he stays near you or not.

At first this ends up making you forget about him a little while dealing with the others. But when you realize it, you'll immediately pay attention to him.

When you pick him up for the first time, he doesn't know how to react. But as soon as you start giving him affection, he will laugh and return the affection. The others will be jealous because you're paying so much attention to him.

He can't sleep unless you rock him. Do you know about that thing that babies feel safer when they are close to their mother's heart? He only feels rested enough if he is lying on your chest and listening to your heart beating.

Since he's the one who laughs the least, you might end up paying more attention to him to make him happy, which will make others jealous, but him very happy.

Vil drank the water because he thought it was the product of an advertisement that he and his manager talked about once.

He's a grumpy baby.

He's the type to throw things when he's upset.

His tantrums may be quieter than Riddle's, but they are just as intense.

He likes to do little things like stack cubes or doodle on paper and show it to you with pride. The more you congratulate him on these little things, the more things he will do just to show them to you.

Maybe you'll end the day with a sketchbook of his drawings. (Rook will be so jealous of you)

When you pick him up and give him affection, it's the moment when he smiles and laughs more. And of course he will return the affection.

He's also the type of baby who likes to walk or crawl around, so you might lose sight of him if you're distracted.

He is fascinated by beautiful things so every now and then you can see him staring at some cute object.

If you put a video on your cell phone, or PC if you have one, he will be hypnotized watching it. And if it's something, or someone he really likes, he'll clap and get your attention so you can look at it too. If he sees Neige, he'll throw a tantrum.

Idia drank the water a little with the same thought as Leona: Why not? Somehow, Ortho found no abnormalities when it scanned the bottle.

Cry baby #2

He will never ever EVER leave your side. He's the type to hold on to your leg and never let go.

He will hide behind you, or your legs.

He will cry for you to hold him. Especially if he feels threatened by Leona or Riddle for example.

Even when you hold him to your chest, you'll feel his little hands gripping your shirt, as if he's afraid to let go.

He will also cry whenever he doesn't see you around.

He loves stuffed animals and other plushies.

He will hide a lot, which can make you lose sight of him. But as soon as he sees you looking for him, he goes straight to you for you to pick him up.

He loves learning toys, but can get tired of them quickly.

He can only sleep if you are close to him.

Of all the babies, he is the one who most reciprocates the affection you give him. He is a very enthusiastic little boy.

He also likes to draw and in the middle of the doodles you will be able to see a drawing of him, eighteen years old, with you and hearts around.

Malleus thought it was some kind of gift. The biggest surprise was that it was strong enough to affect even Malleus Draconia.

Unlike the others, only Silver and Sebek went looking for the antidote. Lilia stayed to take care of Malleus, so they stayed in Diasomnia.

Until you receive a call from Lilia because Malleus really wants to see you. AKA: he won't stop crying and throwing tantrums because he wants to be with you and the lightning strikes are getting worse and worse.

Given the circumstances of you also taking care of the other babies, you decide that it is best for Lilia and Malleus to go to Ramshackle Dorm.

When you open the door and baby Malleus sees you his curious face turns into a huge smile and he stretches his arms out to you. Lilia looks slightly apprehensive, but hands you the baby to hold. He was worried that Malleus could hurt you with his strength.

But that doesn't happen. The first moment you show discomfort, he will stop hugging you and look worried and afraid that he has hurt you. You’ll need to reassure him so he doesn't start crying.

Lillia and he stay in a separate room to avoid the risk of Malleus losing control of his powers. But, almost every 5 minutes, Lilia will call you because Malleus misses you.

He loves your cuddles and give him affection! He's the happiest baby when you're with him.

Whenever you kiss his cheeks he will laugh very loudly and happily. And he will kiss your cheeks back.

When you take too long to show up, you'll start to hear lightning outside and a storm brewing.

He will inevitably burn you by accident. With a simple sneeze. And the burns won't be worse because Lilia will protect you.

Whenever he realizes he hurt you, he will start crying and a torrential rain will start outside. You will have to reassure him, saying that everything is fine and that you will not leave him because of that.

He is very curious. Anything you do he will look closely at you.

You and Lilia will end up taking turns. while one of you is with Malleus, the other was with the rest of the babies.

Whenever you return to the other babies after Lilia's shift, they will attack you with hugs as if they miss you terribly.

YOU WILL COOK! Baby Malleus, keep Lilia busy!

Leona will want to play fight with everyone, so you will always be keeping him away from others. He will annoy Riddle and Vil and make Azul and Idia cry. Jamil is the only one who might retaliate in kind, which is not a good thing. Idia will cling to you so you can protect him from Leona.

Riddle gets along well with everyone else, but can get irritated with Vil and vice versa. They both like things to be done their way and can throw tantrums to have a toy or do something a certain way.

Azul can be clingy. And the ones most likely for him to be very attached to and want to be close to them are Jamil and Idia. These three are the least aggressive so the three of them would get along very well.

Jamil prefers to be close to Idia because he is calm and not very clingy.

If you feel sorry for Malleus for not being able to be with the other babies, you ask Lilia if any of them could be with Malleus for a little while.

You both agree that the best candidate for this would be Idia. He is calm and Lilia knows that he and Malleus get along very well. Plus, Idia is the least likely to get scared if he sees a bit of green fire.

At first Idia will be a little afraid, but then he will recognize Malleus. Idia will show toys and how to play with them while Malleus looks on attentively.

They only returned to normal when they were in their respective dorms, so they hadn't seen you since they were still babies.

Riddle will come to Ramshackle Dorm with your favourite cake or pie made by Trey.

He tries to hide his embarrassment the whole time.

He wanted to thank you for what you did, apologize for any inconvenience and ask you to please not tell anyone any details of what happened.

If you tell him how cute he was, he'll blush a lot and ask you to stop saying those things.

Leona will enter Ramshackle Dorm without knocking or anything. He'll just open the door, walk in, close the door behind him and walk right up to you.

“Listen up, herbivore! No talking about what happened! Understood?”

If you comment about him being as grumpy now as he was as a baby he'll reply with "I told you: no talking about it!"

If he sees the scratch marks on your arms, his tone will drop a little. And you'll see his ears lowered back. “Those were mine, weren't they?” and he will look a little embarrassed.

He will curse under his breath and calm down completely. Sit next to you on the couch and take one of your arms "Sorry" and give light kisses to the scratches.

Someone knocks on the door of Ramshackle Dorm and when you open it you see Azul carrying a large gift and a wide charismatic smile on his face.

The gift was something big and expensive that he knew you really wanted.

Asking him what he wanted in return for that: “Your silence. I want you to never tell anyone, much less the twins, what happened, especially the parts that concern me.”

You can tell him that he could also pay for the toys, aquarium, salt and the rest of the things you paid for him. If he complains and asks why you bought all that, you tell him he wouldn't stop crying and he will immediately agree to pay you back for all that stuff.

If he sees the cupping marks on your arms he will blush with embarrassment. “I-I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?”

You say he didn't hurt you, but the tentacles were pretty strong. He will take your hands and lightly kiss the marks.

Jamil shows up at Ramshackle Dorm with your favourite dish, freshly made by him, in a Tupperware container.

He greets you, asks how you are and then asks if he can come in. It's only after you're both in the common room that you ask if that's for him to ask you not to tell anyone about what happened.

And he will answer yes, embarrassed. And above all, you can't tell Kalim, or Azul, anything. (they don't remember what happened)

If you say there weren't many things to tell even if you wanted to and that was what worried you, he won't even know how to respond to that.

And if you start telling him how you spent time with him and played with him just to make him smile, he'll be so flattered he'll pull his hood over his face. And you'll only make it worse if you say his laugh was so cute.

He will apologize to you and say that even though he doesn't remember exactly what happened, he remembers feeling really happy whenever he was with you.

Vil trusts you enough to know that you wouldn't tell anyone anything that could harm him or his career, so he just went to the Ramshackle Dorm to thank you.

In addition to a few kisses on your cheek, he also offers you something from his cosmetics line.

If you mention the drawings he made for you, he'll brag about being an artist since he was little.

But if you start talking about the tantrums, he'll be embarrassed, and he will defend himself between laughs that, apparently, he has always been a demanding person.

Idia doesn't want to see you face to face because he is extremely embarrassed. But he also needs to make sure that you don't tell anyone what happened.

His tablet shows up at Ramshackle Dorm door.

So, you know that cell phone game you love? What if he buys you those 1230 Gems? You wouldn't say anything too detailed about what happened to anyone, right?

If you start talking about how cute he was, he'll beg you to stop. You can't see him on the tablet, but the more you talk about it, the pinker his hair gets.

He'll bounce as soon as he is sure that you've made a deal and you'll not tell anyone about what happened.

Lilia told Malleus about having to take him to you because he was throwing a tantrum about not being close to you. He even mentioned (dramatically) that he was hurt that he was no longer enough to take care of Malleus.

And because of this, when Malleus appeared at the door of Ramshackle Dorm to thank you, he was also partially embarrassed.

He thanks you for being so brave to agree to help Lilia take care of him. And he asks if he caused many problems, and that, in advance, he's sorry for all of them.

You can try to say he didn't cause any major problems, but somehow he'll be able to see the little burn marks on your arms. The kind of burns he knows only his flames can cause.

He will politely interrupt you and ask you to show him your arms.

The burns aren't many, nor are they very serious, but either way he widens his eyes in worry and regret. “You lied to me. After all, I caused a serious problem. I hurt you.” He also seems a little sulky that you tried to hide it from him.

He asks if he can touch your arms. After you give him permission, he kneels in front of you, gently grabs your arms and kisses the burns, all of them.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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zoe-oneesama · 5 months

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Now that it’s been brought back to the forefront of my mind in regards to yesterday’s SL asks, it really is genuinely kinda nuts how the potions were revealed in Season 2 and have only physically appeared (i.e. not just been mentioned or shown in a one-off picture or alternate timeline) in 13 out of what’s now 92 episodes (not counting specials) since their closest-to-chronological debut. Even more wild is the fact that, like you pointed out, only 3 out of 7 potion powers are canonically known to date. Apparently That Guy tweeted a few years back that one of the remaining ones is supposed to be a Fire potion (which, if true, may be the one Marinette was trying to figure out the “spicy little rock” ingredient for in Mr. Pigeon 72?) that gives the user the ability to walk on lava and/or a resistance to scorching heat, but they haven’t been able to use it since “Fire is something very difficult to use in shows watched by kids, because we have to pay extra-care that they won't see fire as a cool thing and play with it afterwards. Broadcasters tend to prefer not showing it at all.” To which I’m like?? A) You guys STAY hopping between whether you want your target demographic to be little kids or early teens in actual practice. B) There have to be a million ways that you can blatantly write the idea that fire is dangerous which is why the Fire potion would be NEEDED (or, y’know, have more faith in your audience’s ability to intuitively understand that from the get-go). C) If you already understood that a fire power up was genuinely likely to be a hard no-go with your broadcasters, maybe change your plans to only conceptualizing 6 instead of 7 potions before putting them in the actual show???

Right? And like, he said Lava as well. So do something WITH LAVA if you can't use fire! (I bet it would be easier to animate too!) Or, or! Invent a kind of goo or acid that burns LIKE Lava so they have to use the suit! That could be the debut episode, where it's impossible to get close because of the heat and burn of it until BAM! Fire Suit.

It's not like you have to use the suits OFTEN, they've only used the Ice one like two times I think, just do a debut episode and then use it for Ordinary Heroing, like actually running into a burning building and saving people. Pretty sure even kids don't think house fires are cool, so you don't HAVE to associate fire with a "cool" akuma.

A long time ago when I was ranting about this I was informed by a Anon that the others were "revealed" at some convention or expo and they were things like Air and Space (space hadn't been shown at the time), Sun and Moon, and like...Soul? So, what's the difference between Air and Space? Are Sun and Moon supposed to be Light and Dark, how is that following the Environmental Costume Change of the three we know? Wtf is Soul? Maybe it's a lack of cohesion that's making this difficult for them.

The more I hear about them, the more I think this idea was never fully fleshed out and will never BE fleshed out.

#power ups #writing salt #ml salt

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seireitonin · 6 months

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Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby

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heliza24 · 7 months

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I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.

#interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #iwtv #daniel molloy #armandaniel #devils minion #louis de pointe du lac #armand #my meta #my crip media reviews #devil’s minion

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penguinsfly · 7 months

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I unfortunately saw something I didn't want to see and that was my last straw. I'm fucking doing this.

Let's establish this first. Alastor is stated in the show to be asexual that is not up to discussion. He is also very heavily implied in the same conversation to be aromatic. 'An Ace in the hole' being used in context of him being with Charlie is also implying his aromanticism.

VIDEO

If that's not enough then here is Viv speaking about his romantic orientation. It's pretty clear despite the fact that afterwards she said it's okay to headcanon whatever (it's not but I will get o that later) that he is written purely as an aro ace character.

On top of that going by Alastor's interaction with Angel from the pilot and the first episode it is clear that he is sex repulsed. Not only that but on the fandom website he is stated to be touch averse with two sources which you can check out on the website.

Hazbin hotel wiki, Alastor page

Now we established that Alastor is canonically Asexual, Aromantic, Sex Repulsed and Touch Averse

As I also am all of the above I'll try to explain everything to the best of my ability as simply as I can.

Aromanticism and Asexuality.

I'm probably targeting the audience that knows those terms but regardless I will explain it anyway.

Aromantic - people that experience little to no romantic attraction towards any gender

Asexual - people that experience little to no sexual attraction towards any gender.

Little to no

Asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums in which people can feel certain attractions towards people but those attractions are less occurring or are defined by personal connection.

Diagram from AVEN website

However some people are at the end of the spectrum, they never felt attraction and that's valid. Alastor was stated to be aroace he wasn't written as demi or as gray he was written as aroace as in the end of the spectrum. His repulsion and not giving shit about romance or sex speaks for itself.

Representation

I do understand that everyone wants to be represented but it's so important to understand that aroace people are one of the most underrepresented queer groups in the media.

And I'm not here to scream about how I want my fav character to be just like me I don't care for it I'm way too confident in my orientation to rely on that however I'm tired of explaining to people what asexuality and aromanticism is just to receive 'are you sure' or 'you'll change your mind' or 'its not real' or the community favourite 'you'll find the right person' no I won't I'm not looking thank you very much (I just smile and nod to be polite and I'm sick of it).

'Harmless' buts like: 'He might be on the spectrum', 'AroAce people can still feel attraction' hurt the final outcome for all the people on the spectrum not only strictly aroaces because it allows people to write one shots with 'Demi Alastor' that falls in love in 2000 words because he is 'demi' (spoiler alert: they don't understand what that label means). It's just a cover, an opening, sneaky way to disregard his orientation, feel good about themselves and move on. Newsflash there is no moving on for aroace people it's our life.

Shipping

Shipping is just harmless fun right? Usually yes but not in this case. In the same way its not okay to ship gay characters with genders they are not attracted to.

It's erasure and since there is much less people identifying on aro/ace spectrums then there is gay or bi people our voices are being silenced. Not to mention that gay people received support from entire LGBTQIA+ community over the years in contrast to aro/ace specs who to this day are told that we are 'not queer enough' or 'not oppressed enough' often by other queer people.

And finally... FINALLY we get cannon Aro/Ace character that is clearly not interested in romance and sex. Character that beats stereotypes of boring and timid aro/ace people and what's the first people do? They ship him. Alastor's storyline provides so many points to be explored like 'what is his backstory', ' what's about his deal', ' how does he fit in in the found family trope' , 'does he care about hotel guests' yet people choose to write about the only thing that he is not interested in. As a heavily repulsed person that used to be horrified about the fact that I'll have to fall in love with somebody at some point before I found out what aro/ace is I find it repulsive and trust me he would too.

But Viv said it's okay!

Its the same point once again. What if Viv said that it's okay to ship gay Angel with woman. She doesn't have authority to say shit like that.

Queerplatonic relationships

I can't tell you not to do it I don't think he would be necessary interested in it but for fuck sake do your research and try to understand what queerplatonic means before you use it as a cover to shamelessly ship him. Respect the fact that he is sex repulsed and touch averse and you're fine.

Why can't you just avoid it?

First of all I shouldn't have to. Alastor's orientation should be respected in the fandom like any other orientation is. Second of all I've tried. I tried to only look up AroAce Alastor tag I've blocked over 80 people on tumblr alone (I just counted) to avoid to see anything that could trigger me and I'm not talking about slightly shippy posts or fanarts I'm talking about full blown disregard towards his orientation. Guess what it didn't work!

Archive of our own where do I start. I've used this website for over a decade and I could probably count days I didn't go there on my fingers. I'm fluent in AO3 I know which tags I should block. I know how to skim thorough the summary and tags to see if I'm interested. I've seen shit I'm a shipper I've been on ao3 for ten years but never had to mentally prepare myself to face queerphobia as I click on the tab.

Just use aro/ace Alastor tag.

I do and let me tell you people can't tag for shit or they just pretend to be clueless at this point. Besides see this?

there is more ff with Alastor/reader (disgusting) than there is Alastor with his canon orientation and to play the devils advocate for arophobic people there is more Angel/Alastor then his stated in the show sexuality. I understand that fandom goes back before the show was aired but Viv confirmed his orientation back then too.

Summary

I could go on and on bout different issues and maybe I will in the future but I'm not wasting anymore of this weekend on it. I'm ready to answer any questions as long as they are respectful.

I'm aware that he is a fictional character, it doesn't affect him in any way whatsoever but it does affect aromantic and asexual people keep it in mind.

If there are any mistakes grammar related I'm not sorry I'm fluent in English (not my first language) but I took 3h nap in between and I'm sleep deprived.

Have a nice day.

#alastor #aroace alastor #hazbin hotel #aromantic #asexual #aromantic alastor #asexual alastor

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pico-farad · 3 months

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I finished season 1 of Vrains and it was cool but I thought it needed about 2 billion more secret identity shenanigans

extended thoughts below

So I went into a deep dive in my last two posts (1, 2) about all the problems I had with Vrains, and you'd think I didn't enjoy it, but in fact as I was watching, there was a separate, parallel version of Vrains that was playing in my head, a Yugioh I think we were robbed of and which fixes every problem I had with the first season, and that is Secret Identities AU.

Yusaku needs FRIENDS

This is YUGIOH.

This dynamic is everything I wanted from Vrains. Yusaku developing unexpected fondness for these bozos who think he needs a defense squad. I want Miraculous Ladybug levels of secret identity shenanigans. I want Yusaku slapping his duel disk every time Ai tries to blow their cover.

This AU sprung forth from the scene in the duel club where he shows Naoki his decoy deck. Having Yusaku passing as a bad duelist is 1) so funny, but 2) Yusaku needing to maintain his low profile is a useful contrivance for other characters to get more duels, and 3) I think it would be a really fun one-off episode where Yusaku has to duel using his bad deck. When he wins, Naoki is so proud he cries.

Having Yusaku actually have to interact with the other characters in the real world opens up Greek play levels of dramatic irony. The crux of a secret identity story is that every single interaction builds up anticipation, because you the viewer know that the other party is being deceived, and that the tension will snap when the secret is revealed.

I have zero anticipation about Playmaker's identity being revealed, because Aoi would be like "oh.... I guess he goes to my school" and Go would be like "have I seen that guy before?" But SIAU Playmaker? My guy is making friends just so he can betray them. Insane.

Go needs A ROLE IN THE STORY.

I said in my first post that Go isn't a rival or a best friend character. SIAU fixes this by making him both simultaneously.

Having him be the ace of the duel club is a natural replacement for his whole hero of the orphans schtick, while placing him directly the circle of relevance with the other characters. Instead of being disgruntled that the orphans suddenly like Playmaker more than him, he's disgruntled that Naoki and the duel club mooks are fawning over Playmaker -- which is actually just Naoki's character anyway.

I would kill for a big dramatic moment where Go learns that Playmaker and Yusaku are the same person, and even though Go feels betrayed that Yusaku has been deceiving him, he stands by Yusaku anyway because they're friends.

With a secret identity story, every conversation is working on multiple levels because each character is working with asymmetric information. You get these fascinating, layered scenes of two characters talking past each other because they cannot give up their secret.

Which would go especially hard with Go and Yusaku, because Go has legitimate criticisms of Playmaker in canon and Yusaku has legitimate reasoning behind the things he does, and as Go Onizuka and Playmaker they could never come to an understanding on them, but as Go and Yusaku, two friends in duel club, that door becomes open to them.

Aoi needs WRITING THAT ISN'T A TRAINWRECK

I made a whole post on this. Basically every problem would be solved if Akira doesn't know that she's Blue Angel. There's no reason for her to lose grotesquely against Yusaku, or have her basic autonomy called into question constantly.

Having her actively deceive her brother is delicious. Like I said in my last post, it's so obvious how Akira's overprotectiveness has taken its toll on Aoi, and pushed her into developing this other persona, Blue Angel. I want this absolutely dysfunctional sibling relationship so badly. The Blue Angel vs. Zaizen duel would make me lose my mind.

And a secret identities setting works so well with the potential themes of VRAINS as a stand-in for the internet and Blue Angel as an idol. Give me that Perfect Blue Satoshi Kon good stuff. Give me those themes about identity, and the different lives we live, outward and inward, online and offline.

This also helps Akira's character, because I think he would be much more interesting and relevantly positioned in the story if he stayed a SOL Technologies baddie. SOL Technologies has very little presence in season 1 despite being critical to the story. After Zaizen is replaced by an irrelevant clown, they don't do anything but send out mook AIs to get destroyed. By having a three-way standoff between Yusaku's squad, the Knights of Hanoi, and SOL Technologies, both Hanoi and SOL Technologies become more compelling. They've both got all the reason in the world to want to take down the other. Zaizen vs. Revolver or Spectre? That's good shit.

And don't get me started on how I would turn Revolver into a Secret Identities character.

#anyway hire me konami #I didn't even get into how I would involve kusanagi and ghost girl #yugioh vrains #yusaku fujiki #aoi zaizen #go onizuka #akira zaizen #naoki shima #ai vrains #ygo #pico art #pico commentary

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aineryeo · 2 months

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The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 2: Once Upon a Dream

Chapter Synopsis:

Kenji still doesn't know that you've bonded with him, considering him as your mate from there on out. What he does, however, is take a bath with you as he inches on the edge of being the father of a cute giant pink baby lizard; where he makes the decision of keeping you around too. Just enough to investigate about your possible human personality, of course.

Themes & Warnings (Chapter):

Author Notes:

Okay I think this is going a little slow HAHAHA, I changed my mind regarding a few plot points but I literally wrote the ice bath scene at 4-5 am in the morning because I couldn't sleep. i keep DREAMING about it. like it wasn't supposed to be part of the chapter tbh but i think st. michael was giving me a sign !!

The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist

Episode 2: Once Upon a Dream ⇾ Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time

“Mom? Mom…” Kenji sobs, there are small sounds of pit-a-pats from where he stood. Which was a community playground filled with colourful slides, swing sets, tubes, and sandboxes.

The playground however, was not as lively as you’d think. The weather was gloomy that day, the sun hiding behind rumbling clouds threatening to spill the water they’ve soaked up from the sea. Kenji kept looking around, yet he remained lost, the same as he was five minutes ago. To the seven-year-old boy, it was like five months.

“Hi,” a girlish voice cuts through the sobs of the only other kid around. “Why are you crying? The other kids here say that boys aren’t supposed to cry.”

Kenji frowns, lips still wobbling as he makes his reply. “I lost my mom…”

“Oh.” You hum, looking down at your mismatched socks, noticing how the boy visibly had brand-new sneakers. “Hmm… Don’t worry, I lost mine too.”

“Really?” The boy replies, nose still stuffy as he tries to wipe it with his sleeve. “Will they find us?”

You shrug. “My real one won’t find me.”

“Your real one? You have a fake mom?” Kenji asks, curious.

“I don’t know. I never met my real one.” You reply, walking to the swings and taking a seat. Kenji does the same, sitting next to you. “But I know my mom right now isn’t my real mom, so, I ran away.” You say all this with such a tone that didn’t contain much sadness; as if it was just a normal thing to do so.

“What? Why?” Your feet kick yourself off the ground, allowing you to move back and forth. Kenji follows suit, trying to match your force. Once he got the hang of it, he continues. “Are you not scared?”

“I am. But they don’t want me, I think.”

There are a few seconds of silence as Kenji could no longer spark up a reply. All you both could do was swing on the set together. Feeling like he has to say something, Kenji blurts out the first thing that came to mind.

“My dad said I should love kaiju even if he fights them.”

“Woah! Your dad fights the giants?!” You exclaim, digging the heels of your red shoes on the dirt below. Kenji only nods at this. His swing keeps going. “I think the kaiju are super cool. And Mr. Ultraman too. Is your dad Ultraman?”

“Dad says it’s a secret.” Kenji replies with a pout.

“Then, would you love a kaiju?”

The question makes Kenji stop, the swing set back in its still state as you stare at each other’s eyes.

“Baka! Why would I love—” Kenji stops, your eyes remain wide and curious. And despite the stormy weather, they still chose to shine. A heat creeps up from his neck up to the tips of his ears for reasons beyond him.

“...I’m, maybe?” He trails off, breaking your intense eye contact. He then mutters, unsure and low:“If they’re cute enough, why not?”

Before you could respond, however, you two started feeling the rain slowly drop down, seconds before it turned into a downpour.

“Ah! It’s raining!” Kenji exclaims. Without saying anything, you grab the boy’s hand, leading him into the plastic tube to hide from the rain.

“We can hide here while you wait for your mom.” You assure, you and Kenji sitting with your knees bent to hug yourself better. Every other second, you scoot closer to each other, trying to get warm from the cold breeze picking up.

It’s a few minutes more of silence, maybe ten or so, that Kenji felt like crying again. You heard sniffles from beside you, making you tilt your head to see his glassy eyes, tears brimming the edges.

“Dummy, are you going to cry again?”

“I miss my mom and dad…” Kenji says quietly, digging his face into the caps of his knees.

You breathe out through your nose, feeling bad for the boy.

“Here, face me.”

Kenji hums, still upset as he does what he’s told.

“You can’t be sad after this, okay?” You say as you lean in and Kenji felt your lips meet his. “There. That means I’ll be around when your mom and dad aren’t. So, stop crying okay, dummy?”

“You’ll… be around when mom and dad aren’t?” Kenji says after the brief kiss, not really processing what just happened. Both your cheeks and nose were a mix of warmth from each other, and cold from the rain.

“Yes.” Kenji continues to look at you curiously, waiting for more context.

“My mom and dad right now say that’s how married people are. They stay together even if no one else is around.”

You point your small finger to his face, he looks at it then back at your unyielding gaze.

“Especially if no one else is around.” You share the valuable piece of knowledge with Kenji who soaked it all in like you were a prophet. He nods slowly.

“Then, we’re married?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

The conversation ends as you two bask in silence again. This time, Kenji is the one to look over at you, staring at your sombre look towards the passersby covering their children with their umbrella; carrying them on their arms to avoid them getting wet. Your expression barely changes, but the way your eyes lidded lower.. it compelled Kenji enough to hold your hand, shocking you.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” You ask, mostly out of shock. But you don’t let go.

“I’ll be here too.”

You realise he’d been staring at you when he said that, making you turn away, resuming your waiting game as you squeezed his hand lightly. He squeezes back. The rain somehow felt more mellow.

Half an hour later, Kenji’s mom arrives at the playground with his dad, ushering him to their car. As Kenji was about to point towards you, he sees you running through the rain, cutting a corner, before disappearing out of his sight.

“What is it, Ken?” Emi Sato asks, carrying the boy in her arms as she checks for injuries, now in the backseat of their car. She glances towards where her son’s eyes were fixated, seeing nothing but the empty playground.

Kenji only shook his head, choosing to say nothing. All he could think about now was when he’ll meet the person he married again.

“Were you lonely, Ken?” His mother asks. He perks up to look back towards his mother’s worried gaze.

There’s only one answer dripping from the tip of his tongue, his hand tingling in warmth, remembering the soft embrace it had just minutes prior.

“No…”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your lips were soft against Kenji’s slightly chapped ones, both your bodies stuck in the motion of the accidental kiss. There was a small spark of electricity that climbed up from the bottom of your spines, a tingle that's much too noticeable.

It was merely six seconds.

Kenji would know.

He counted.

Six seconds for you to pull away, five of you just staring into the other’s similarly wide orbs; four for Kenji to catch a whiff of that addicting scent he never noticed until now, and three before your eyes finally drooped, your head nuzzling his chest. Kenji's plain white shirt getting wet alongside with it before he feels your whole frame lose its tension, breathing resuming its slow and quiet rhythm.

Kenji remains quiet, his brain absolutely fried, staring straight ahead as he sits to support your weight, comparatively light for the athlete and occasional superhero, especially now that you weren’t a giant. His hands hover over the smooth expanse of your bare back, his legs spread, lightly encaging your snoozing figure. His mouth still ajar, not a word slipping from him.

Eventually, his hands meet the damp skin of your shoulder and the middle of your back, pushing your figure against him even more. He supports your head that was now resting on his shoulder, even as your hair lightly tickles his ear.

“Ken.”

The sudden call of his name from Mina finally releases him from whatever trance he was in. Almost forgetting the giant baby kaiju a few metres away from him who, surprisingly, had settled down; sitting on its hind, watching you and him with a curious gaze.

“I… Uh, yes. Sorry. Uhm,” He clears his throat. “Could you fetch us a towel, Mina?”

It takes only a minute before the ground next to him opened up, a mechanical hand holding the extra white towel was handed to the boy, who takes it wordlessly, working to wrap it around you as delicately as he possibly could. Taking note of your legs and arms littered in bruises and quite nasty wounds.

“I’ll take her to my room, watch over the baby for a minute.” Kenji says. “I’ll prepare the guest room tomorrow.”

“Sure, Ken.”

Once you were wrapped in the soft cotton, Kenji moved to carry you in his arms effortlessly, though he winces every now and then when he rotates his left shoulder a little too much, though it wasn’t that big a deal compared to your injuries. While walking, he would glance at your face, peacefully asleep as if you weren’t even hurt at all. He notes that your eyelashes were the same colour as your hair and eyes, that is, they’re all prismatic in nature; and with the absence of light, there is the absence of colour, where he understands your features much better.

Kenji arrives at his bedroom, setting you down gently on his king-sized bed, turning the duvet so that it covers you, he doesn’t think much of his sheets getting damp from your hair.

You remain unmoving, both hands rested on your stomach. Kenji finally takes a deep breath in as he drops his weight to the apex of his feet, crouching as he really takes in what happened.

His hands covers his face; lightly messing his hair in the process as an unexplainable heat pushes its way up from his chest.

Apparently, what happened smelled like Hinoki Wood and Yuzu.

“Ken, your father is waiting outside the door. It seems he has driven here in a haste.”

“Min— Shhh,” He chastises, stopping mid-call to lower his voice.

“I’ll get to it.” He whispers in reply.

Easily enough, he’s getting off his feet and shutting his door closed as he made his way to the front door. On the way, he starts hearing distant music and giggles from downstairs, along with flashing lights.

“Mina!” Ken calls out from the living room. “What’s going on?”

“The baby had begun fussing two minutes after you two went upstairs, I have discovered that she is currently happy with Doraemon”

Kenji sighs, “Okay, but keep it down a little. Dad might suspect something.”

“But there is something.” Mina replies.

“Shut it, Mina.” He interjects, Mina doesn’t reply, knowing that Kenji particularly has a difficult situation with his father.

Kenji opens the door, looking back to regard if the lights are still on, just as he looks to see that his dad was about to knock.

“Kenji,” his dad almost whispers, a relieved undertone transfixed in the simple call of his name.

In haste, he runs his hand through his hair, ears still catching the tunes playing in the basement.

“Dad, hey. Hey, what’s up?” Kenji leans in, slyly closing the door a little bit more, giving worried glances towards the glass elevator before giving his minute focus back towards his father. “How about that game tonight?” He plays dumb.

“Oh, thank God. You’re okay?” His father fusses.

“Yeah, you know. I’m good.” He allows a little bit more of his body to show that he really was good. “It was a tough battle. I’m a little sore, still recovering, but—”

Suddenly, a screech that Kenji knew was from the baby kaiju pierced through the air, making him reel back in defence behind the front door. His dad, the invader, moving a pace forward like a rook on a chess board made it easy for Kenji to spot the suspicion on his face.

“What was that?”

“Uh…” He needs to come up with something— “Uh, you know. It’s… Uh…” Suddenly, the lights behind him visibly changes. Green, blue, pink—

“That’s the.. The party downstairs.” He jives along.

Kenji fails to notice the swift change, the quirk of his father’s eyebrows. “The most magnificent creature on Earth has died. The last of its kind.” With each word, his father’s words become more punctuated with anger, hands flailing along with it.

“And you throw a party!?”

Red. For a brief second or two, Kenji’s mind, his thoughts, were clouded in red; an emotion quickly visible in his face and body.

“That magnificent creature nearly took my head off, Dad.”

This time, each word was not only punctuated in anger, but stomps that slowly but surely made his father back away from the shelter of Kenji’s patio, the rain dripping on the old man who could only recede and listen to his enraged son.

“I’ve barely seen you in twenty years. You chose this city and literal monsters over us.”

“No…”

“Then, you get hurt, can’t hack it anymore, and I get to come back and clean up the mess you made as…” Kenji raises his hands in mockery as he sings the branded tune the masses had placed upon his famous counterpart. “Da, da, da, da! Ultraman.”

“—Which I only did because Mom begged me.” Kenji pauses. “And you’re more worried about the monster. Classic.”

With eyes that sheened in a way that scratches at Kenji’s nerves, his father chalks up a reply. “No… I only wanted to.. protect you.”

It claws in his chest, a familiar wall that’s repeatedly been torn again and again, by the same person; enough so that Kenji could still feel the recurring pain, but no longer does he break down from it.

“But you didn’t.” He says, eyes glassy. “You didn’t even pay attention.”

The furrow in his father’s eyes disappear, a notable change; cognizant of his actions.

Kenji continues.

“Be honest. When Mom disappeared, did you even look for her?”

“I stopped hearing it.”

“Stopped hearing what?”

“Do you think kaiju have a special way of communication?” Tadashi asks mindlessly, spinning on his desk chair.

“All animals do, now let me sleep.” Hiro replies, covering his head with a pillow to possibly drown out whatever his big brother could mutter.

But telepathically?

Is there a possibility? Tadashi thinks, leaning on his elbows that rested on his knees, fingertips of his hands on each other.

And if he can hear it, why can’t Hiro?

Tadashi leans back on his desk chair with an audible sigh. If he were being honest, he didn’t know why he was suddenly so invested in the recent kaiju sighting. His eyes fixated on the smaller version of his whiteboard dedicated to his looking for you in the past three years hidden behind the shelves in his lab at Tokyo Tech. He often hides this side of him from Hiro. This side of him that’s… too dedicated in his search that definitely has been fruitless for years.

It’s simple.

The scene of the incident, a huge gap in the wall of the building where your personal laboratory was; a trail of disaster followed right after. Like many other kaiju incidents, everyone suspected that it had walked from the sea. Considering that the building was situated on the seaside.

It was late at night when it happened, you went back to your office because you left something and… that’s it?

You’re just.. gone? Now he has to grief over his sister who he had just spoken to an hour prior to your leaving asking if you wanted some ramen he was cooking because he was too busy studying for his exams and— Tadashi had to catch his breath even though he wasn’t speaking, feeling his heart beat a mile a minute.

They weren’t given much information past that.

The authorities say that they were just unfortunate that a kaiju had attacked the facility; no security footage, considering that the building was crushed in half. But out of everyone, the guards, other leftover researchers, they were able to leave unscathed while your brothers had to deal with the loss of their pillar; their big sister. Unable to even confirm if you’re dead or not, hoping that you’ll come back, even injured, to them.

Tadashi ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that night.

Truthfully, he was about to give up. He was about to take off all the newspaper clippings, all the letters, all your bank records, any and all leads from his rolling whiteboard; erase all the theories, and maybe, just like his little brother always told him… to just.. move on.

But then, on the way home after Tadashi introduced Hiro to his friends at Tokyo Tech after getting arrested for that night when Hiro won one of many of his recurring bot fights, the invasive sounds of the oceans permeated through his mind; wrapping around it gently like a blanket of warmth, telling him, making him understand— that he had to go there. To you.

“Bioacoustics.” Tadashi snaps, getting his favourite cap off his desk as he runs down the door. A course set to Tokyo Tech.

He leaves, not knowing his little brother whose eyes blink open, a frown on his face.

We share the pain of her loss, Kenji.

“Yeah, right.” Kenji mutters beneath his breath.

A few hours have passed since his dad visited and left, a few hours into the morning. He hadn’t gone down yet, choosing to just have the time to himself for at least once today. A box of donuts beside him as he slumped down lazily on his couch. The distant sound of thunder and the whining of the baby fills Kenji’s ears.

He sighs heavily. Kenji knew that he stepped a line earlier when he mentioned his mother to which his father solemnly left right after he said the same words that were stuck in his head amongst other things. It seems like there’s too many things getting stuck in his head recently, and just for this day alone. How did he even get into this mess?

He was so tired, yet he couldn’t sleep a wink.

Kenji would walk around aimlessly, every other time going to his room just to look at you from the doorframe; still and unmoving, your eyelashes resting easily on your now dry cheeks. From here, where your fins and scales were hidden by the combined efforts of your towel, hair, and his duvet; you absolutely looked human. Maybe part of the 0.1% because of your inhumanely beautiful hair. A princess would fit. You look like a resting princess to Kenji. And he, with his dishevelled hair, stained shirt, and day-old pants, would probably be the fucking peasant on your feet.

Kenji disregards the thought, the shrill whine of the baby reaching his ears. He groans, head drooping down as his hand slides from the frame. Walking towards the elevator after getting his donuts, he heads down to the basement.

Mina, in a slightly panicked tone, explains the baby’s neverending screeches that added on to Kenji’s inability to sleep.

“She settled down for a minute, then started right back up.”

“Yeah! I can hear it!” Kenji replies, exasperated.

“She’s still scared of you, Ken.” Mina explains as Kenji puts down his box of donuts on the floor.

“Ya think?” He gets sassier by the minute, Mina thinks.

Looking back at the shrieking baby, Kenji groans; before clapping his hand with faux energy, walking a little further back to try a little trick up his sleeve.

“Hey! Hey, hey.” He calls out, catching the baby’s attention. “Hiii!”

“Let’s try this.” Kenji mutters, the baby still frowned, faux cries coming from its little— big beak. Kenji motions to himself, “Beforeee.”

Then, he bumps his head as he transforms into his alter ego. “After!”

When the baby caught sight of her other sole parent, a smile was quickly seen on her face.

“Before,” She whines.

“After!” She smiles, chitters crooning from her throat, visibly pleased.

And it goes on like that for a minute, enough so that the baby, seeing her dad transform in and out of Ultraman form, give off a confused expression, still trying to put two and two together. Eventually, her chitters come when Kenji is in Kenji form.

Kenji sighs as he approaches the now happy baby. “You see? It’s me.” He explains, turning around and sitting next to his box of donuts once more.

And it wasn’t even two minutes in that the baby started whining again.

[...]

After tending to the baby that Kenji creatively decided to temporarily name ‘Baby,’ giving her a litter of fish for an early morning breakfast— considering it was probably 3 AM by then, Kenji fell asleep on the floor in front of Baby’s containment unit.

And woke up to strange drops of liquid on his face.

“Eugh, what the…” His eyes, still squinted and opting for sleep, meets the hazy vision of the baby looking down at him, dripping drool. Drool on him, smelling strongly of fish and guts, and… and.. and drool!

Kenji rolls over quickly just before a fat drop falls directly on his face while his mouth was open.

“Oh, God.” He spits out, trying to wipe the substance off his face. “Ew! Ew!”

He scowls in a second, transforming into his Ultra. Baby tries to reach for him, but Kenji was already on the verge of throwing up from the stench, his fingers pinch the nape of the baby’s neck like she was a kitten. A disgusting trail of spit follows the baby around and Kenji keeps trying not to gag at every moment when he pulls the baby off the edge of the containment unit.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” He shakes his head, hand reaching for the lid of the unit. “Oh, that smell.” He looks at the baby who was so happy in return; tummy full from the meal he haphazardly gave earlier. But then suddenly she burped and let out a glob of drool, enough to cover nearly half of his Ultra’s face, luckily turning a little so as not to swallow anything. He coughs, really about to throw up. Quickly putting the baby back to the bottom of the containment unit, he rasps out a few more gasps and Oh Gods before putting the lid back on where it belonged, not seeing the baby try to reach for him.

“It’s so bad.” Kenji coughs out.

Kenji stumbled back releasing his Ultra-form. Crouching a little as he groans out. “I shouldn’t have eaten all those donuts.” He gasps, brain actively fighting to ignore the horrid smell surrounding him when Mina suddenly approaches him.

“Ken, I know you’re exhausted. But you have a game today.” He has a what?

“After last night? There’s no way we’re gonna play.” He shakes his head.

Mina moves back to flash the holographic news of his coach declaring that despite the battle, the stadium is safe, and we will be playing the game. Oh, bullshit. He is not excited to even see that Yakult Swallows fucker.

“Of cooourse. Of course, we’re still gonna play.” Kenji says, frustration evident in his tone.

“What are we going to do about the baby and the woman, Ken?”

“We aren’t gonna do anything.” Ken replies, shrugging, a mechanical hand giving him his Giants jacket.

“You are gonna have to figure something out.” He continues, putting on his jacket backwards without thinking, walking towards the glass elevator. “Get creative, Mina. You are a state-of-the-art supercomputer.”

The hovering orb listens as she understands the orders given to her; turning back to flash a different kids show towards the baby.

“Studies suggest this isn’t healthy for children.” She states, upbeat music overtaking the basement as the baby immediately fell in fascination of the bright colours.

“Ah, TV, the ultimate babysitter. Just not all this crap all day, okay? I don’t want her getting hooked on that stupid song.”

When finally arriving upstairs, the sun has already risen, he opted to take a quick shower to get rid of all the nasty fish spit left on him by the baby. When entering his room right after to get some clothes, he finds you still fast asleep. Not a twitch, not a hair out of place.

A towel still wrapped around his waist, Kenji decides to approach you in quiet footsteps. If only to check if you were still breathing, and you were, he confirms, after placing his ear close to your face.

“I wonder what your name is,” He says lowly, sighing and sparing you one last look before going to change and leaving for today’s game.

⌈ And there’s another strike. Sato just looks exhausted. ⌋

⌈ And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher. Oh! Oh no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time. Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches… ⌋

Now, Kenji was watching this morning’s replay of his ruffle with that stupid Swallows catcher in the middle of his living room. Watching as he sees a pathetic version of himself, missing strike after strike. A litter of bruises and small cuts on his face, his knuckles a nasty mix of blue and purple from delivering similarly menacing blows because of his undiluted anger.

He doesn't sense the silent footsteps approaching him in the dark room, head too deep in the failures within his past two days and the injuries he’s incurred so far. A whine falls from his lips as he tries to appease the patched bruise on his temple with the premium canned drink that mockingly had his once flawless face plastered on.

It was only when you were standing right beside him, dipping your finger in the ice did Kenji fully comprehend that someone was in the room with him. He yelped, almost sitting up.

“H-hey.” Kenji exclaims. “You're awake. What are you—”

His words die down from his throat, words turning to a gulp, when the loose towel around you drops to the ground, exposing you to the man who had his mouth agape, taking it all in before he realises he should be darting his eyes away.

You don't spare him a glance when you try to step in the tub, Kenji moving his feet to give you room, and really, to begin getting out of there.

I mean, he can't just bathe with you, can he? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take the indulgent step of bathing in the middle of the living room.

His efforts to go and step out are stopped when you gently place your soft hand on his rigid arm. You're quiet, voice unheard, but it seems like your sounds that blanket over Kenji's cortexes are working just fine. And it— you said:

Stay.

Like a puppy, he felt compelled to stay.

So he did.

You stared at him, and he observed your movements, the cooled can from his hand had long been forgotten as you kneel between his legs, your ice-cold hands dragging along his. From his palm, to the space between his fingers, to his knuckles and… Up, up, up, following the veins that decorated his overworked arms, the ticklish sensation made him drop the can from his lightened grip.

All the while you looked at him so earnestly, and in this light, it's like there was a brief flash of the more natural hue of your features; the usual iridescence dialling down a notch, making Kenji, among the other things you were doing to him, hitch his breath for the subtle flicker in changes.

The moment was quiet, none of you talking as the volume of the video he watched on repeat had been dialled down in his head. All it was in this moment was your touch on his, every gentle, slow drag of the freezing tips of your fingers on his bruises and scratches left such a sensation. Like electric fire on water, but also ice on skin on the hottest summer days.

Whether it was a spark or from the cold, or from something else entirely, Kenji at this moment, didn't care to know. Because your hands finally reached his collarbones, thumb rubbing circles on his Adam’s apple, and if you weren't so… so delicate with your touch, he would have blamed you for making him feel so choked. Like he couldn't breathe, like he didn't want to breathe anything else but the addicting scent you were giving off. You’d have to have been in the ocean for so long. How come you smell like this? Not of salt or fish, or—

He cuts his own thoughts off as he hears a small hum from your throat, his eyes that he hadn't noticed to be so lowly lidded already, on the brink of closing from your light caresses, widens at the slightest hint of your voice.

Your hand traces up from his collarbone, up to his neck, until you're perusing your way to his bruised cheek and damp hair. When you decide to leave your hand on his injured cheek, pressing a little, Kenji involuntarily lets out a whimper, the pain from the punch of that stupid catcher unironically catching up to him.

But even with this, Kenji finds himself leaning to your touch, eyes instinctively closing when the pressure returns to a light careen, allowing himself to delve deeper into the abyss you were taking him into. His cheek where your hand lay felt cool, a separate feeling from the ice, like it's carefully taking his pain away.

You move the slightest bit, hand pulling away; and Kenji's first instinct when his eyes shot open was to hold your wrist.

“Don't,” He whispers quietly, his cool breath fanning you who looked at him with your currently doe eyes in surprise. It seems that Kenji has a habit of not noticing things involving you. He didn't flinch from the closeness, a surprisingly welcome gesture for him. “Don't stop.”

For a brief moment, he forgets that you're half-kaiju, and that you haven't spoken a word at all since you two met. But when you rise from the water, bare chest seen for his eyes only, his other arm wraps itself on your waist subconsciously. Your legs and his tangle as he sits lower on the bathtub, allowing you to sit taller than him so he can bury his face on the curve of your neck and shoulder, dipping down to the valley of your soft breasts as he sighs in contentment, eyes closed all the while his arms wrap around your torso.

You were sitting on Kenji's navel, arms wrapped around his neck as your hands combed through his hair while you rested your cheek on his temple. It was quiet, not even the sound of the looping clip on the wall-to-wall TV was getting any of yours and Kenji's attention.

It's soothing, this feeling.

Kenji feels like you’re unravelling the knots on his physique, the pure sensation makes his fingers run along your slightly arched back in appreciation.

With his eyes closed, trapped in your soft embrace, Kenji allows the time to pass by. Not seeing the slowly pulsing, bioluminescent glow of the once normal water of his ice bath. The cooling sensation wasn’t from the ice any longer, but from the conduction of your healing enzymes, your kaiju features coming out strong, the brief reprise of your earlier change in features disappearing, replaced back into its original state of prismatic disposition.

“Ken,” Mina’s slightly excited voice calls out and Ken snaps his eyes open, the once peaceful environment long gone. “We have something to show you.” He groans when the chirps from below reach his ears.

When he pulls away, he’s careful not to let you graze.. him. You only stared in curiosity, wondering why he was plucking himself away from you. Kenji makes a point to only stare at your eyes, and only your eyes despite quite literally using your chest as his pillow not only a few minutes earlier.

“Let’s get changed, okay? Close your eyes so I can get out.”

Kenji shouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t understand what he meant, so he lightly grabbed both your wrists, still pointedly ignoring the curve of your waist, disappearing into the icy bath, and how you were so soft cushioned on his comparatively hard stomach. Honestly… how did he look past all of this earlier?

“Here, cover.” He says, holding your hands over your eyes, the fingers leaving an undeniable gap, which he would close. “Cover tightly.”

When he made sure you weren’t leaving your arms loose, Kenji moved to get up from the tub, his only guiding light is the TV, he scampers for his towel, wrapping it quickly around his waist before turning around to fetch you yours. Only to see that your eyes were already set on him.

“Hey! I said cover!” Kenji exclaims, already feeling his skin growing red from the embarrassment.

“You’re actually a perv, aren’t you?” He asks, but you remain quiet, simply observant of his actions. When he leans down to grab your towel beside the tub, his eyes dart over to his knuckles that were once purple. Now, it was back to his original shade of skin. His brows furrow at this and he immediately moves to touch his once painful temple, cheek, and then arm— until he rotates his dominant shoulder.

The realisation dawns on him as he looks at you, still a little worse for wear, only tilting your head at his gaze.

“No way.” He mutters. Kenji turns on the lights to the room, making you squint and hiss.

“Sorry.” Kenji offers you your towel, wrapping it around your shoulder. “Come on. Up, up.” He pats his arm for you to take.

[...]

When he got downstairs, you in tow, Kenji had a little pep in his step. Briefly forgetting the other reason he came down. You were currently dressed in Kenji’s old Dodgers shirt and one of his old boxers; the only few that would fit you. He thought it would be a nightmare to dress you at first, but you were a quick learner. Kenji only had to show you how he got his own shirt first before you followed suit and things went from there; of course when he had to show you how to put on his old boxers, it was decidedly… too much to show you how he does it firsthand.

So, he opted to put on the rest of his clothes in his walk-in closet away from your tailing figure. Kenji decided that he was lucky that his Dodgers shirt was big on you, enough to cover a good portion of your lower half so that when he instructs you to put your feet on the holes of the only other clothes he had that fit you, he wouldn’t be staring it at the face.

“We’re definitely going to need a trip to the mall.”

When the baby caught sight of you and Kenji together, she chittered, the massive fins on either side of her head lightly twitching as she smiled. Kenji gives you a brief look as you grinned so brightly at the baby, your hand that once held on to Kenji’s arm was now set on the glass container as you met the baby face-to-face.

Kenji smiles. “Mina, I have some good news.”

“Wait, Ken. Baby has a surprise to show you, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Yes. What was it?”

When the music started playing, the baby started jumping, dancing along. But the foul odour took away the charm of the cute dance. So much so that even you reeled back, a scrunch on your nose.

“Oh, dear God, what is that smell?” Kenji exclaims, covering his nose with his arm.

“Ken, you cannot feed a 20-foot baby a half ton of fish and expect nothing but a giant pile of—” Shit.

Kenji’s gaze flitters to the green goo that the baby repeatedly stomped on in its little happy dance.

“Which brings me to something we need to discuss.” Mina continues. “Until I am able to find Kaiju Island, we’re going to need to raise her.”

The mention of Kaiju Island perked Kenji’s ears, he’d briefly forgotten how much he needed to send the baby back.

“And as for the woman…”

“No, no. We can’t send her back to Kaiju Island, she’s obviously not a monster.” Kenji stops. “But she does know Kaiju Island. She should, shouldn’t she?”

“It is a possibility.”

“Look, so far, she’s not acting wildly. She’s just a little…” Kenji watches as you peruse the shirt you’re wearing, seeing the peeks of scale glistering from your wounded legs. “New to all this. And she learns fast too.”

Your eyes catch on to Kenji’s and he waves at you lightly. You smile, all pearly white, at him.

“Ken, your heart rate seems to spike when you are around her.”

The statement makes Kenji reel back. “What?!”

The floating robot does not respond from her out-of-pocket statement however, opting to float towards you.

When Mina approaches you, you lean back, afraid of the foreign levitating ball. When the supercomputer emits the same cyan light, you run, all the way towards Kenji who huffs when you bump into him in your haste to avoid getting scanned. Your being scared was obvious as you hid behind Kenji’s back; you three were a little far from the baby now, mostly Kenji’s attempt to smell the stench less.

“What if she was a person before all of this, Mina?”

“There are no records or any news at all of cross-contaminating human DNA with kaiju DNA.”

“It would feel wrong to send someone that looks, acts,” not talks yet, but— “You get what I mean.”

“Then, we’ll just have to arrive at a compromise, Ken. Earlier I said that we must raise the baby,”

“Mina, I’ve got a whole season of baseball ahead of me.” Kenji digresses. “I.. I just can’t do it.” He turns around, about to leave and head upstairs.

For Ken, raising a baby was an entirely different responsibility than… teaching someone, he would reason in his brain. He wasn't going to raise you, he just needed to.. investigate.

You turn your head from the baby to Kenji.

“Ken, you brought her home and now she is your responsibility. I have observed that our other guest doesn’t mind helping you with her. In any case, she’s more experienced towards kaiju behaviour. So if you want to keep one of them, you’re keeping both of them.” Mina keeps going, and Ken can only stay quiet as he steps back with every self-effacing statement the robot made.

“They will both die if you don’t take care of them until they are ready to leave. Now, it won’t be easy, but I’ll do everything I can to help.” The bot asserts.

“We’ll have to continue feeding her, washing her, develop a strategy for taking her to potty.” This makes Kenji flinch, looking at the giant pink lizard who was giggling in the similarly giant glass container she was in.

“You’ll have to learn the five S’s.” Kenji trips back a little as he keeps walking backwards, back slowly to the containment unit.

“Swaddle, side, shush, swing, suck.”

The sudden rumble of the surroundings makes Kenji and Mina look back, your tail swashing as you transform into your kaiju form; Kenji’s old shirt and boxers on the ground beside you.

The night ended rather quietly after Kenji finished cleaning up and with you humming a familiar tune to put the baby to sleep. Along with coming into terms that he basically had a kid starting then. Now, Kenji was walking to his room, ready for bed. The guest room was ready for you to sleep in, and even after Kenji pointed the bed there, you kept following him. He grunts.

“No. You sleep there,” He points again, and you dumbly look towards his finger pointing. However, he reels back when he realises you flinched in surprise at his sudden action.

A weird feeling of guilt overtakes him, and he sighs. “Why are you so clingy with me?” He whispers, mostly to himself, really.

As he went on though, he no longer stopped you from following him. Eventually, he was lying on his bed. You stand there, waiting.

“Come on. Lie down.” Kenji pats the space beside him. The change in disposition is so obvious, your glee spreading across the room and wrapping Kenji in unreposed warmth.

You jump on the extremely soft and fluffy mattress, diving beneath the covers like a bean. A bean that eventually found its place on his chest, grinning widely. Your whole body hid beneath the thick duvet, your face the only thing peeking out. The sight made Kenji breathe out a chuckle as his hand lands on your head, lightly patting it.

“Thank you…” Kenji starts, your chin resting on the middle of his chest, eyes fixated on him. “You know, for whatever you did. I feel better.”

You may not have understood him word for word, but the message seemed to have gone through, ending up with you simply humming and smiling up at him, before your cheek replaced your chin as you begin to get comfortable.

For now, Kenji can allow this.

He closes his eyes, unknowingly basking in your warmth and the way your body seemed to melt into his.

Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ultraman #ultraman emi #ultraman ken #ultraman rising

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