"Sweet fire within, I'm an inch from sin every time you grin with my lips on the wind.. with fire, a heat so sweet that it could be mistaken for honey."
When you walk into the room, the room feels like it is 1000°C.. nothing could be sweeter than being next to you, well, maybe my lips on your face - eUë
"The sweetest, softest fire eagerly blazes every time your heart beats, bringing about the most lovely thing in the world.. your life, my dear, your life. That is the most precious thing I can think of, your life.. that is where the soft fire emanates from."
Your passion makes heat which turns into a raging fire of pure love - eUë
"Fire comprises my soul, like coals my soul fuels heat.. and in the heat my heart bursts aflame as I speak, I am so hot and I am so sweet, cast my shadow aside and softly take a peek at my dreams, cause my dreams are funny things in truth.. they are riddled with heat and you."
You are the sweetest poetry like honey etching words into my heart - eUë
i was gonna be like "lol no context for this one" but uhhh actually i should say it's some mechfucking/monsterfucking and vague dub...con....?? maybe?? in case you're not here for that. also luca was marion's brother who got metaphysically slurped into the mech, don't even worry about it. there's actually a good chance this scene gets cut, but i had fun with it!
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Panels fold away, the mech’s face splitting with a wide, inhuman grin as tendrils spill out, winding together into a dripping mass that almost looks like—
Yeah, that’s a tongue. Marion laughs, not because it’s funny but because she really didn’t expect this from Noctil. Impressions of images sear into her mind, instructions or orders or inspiration drenched with her mech’s dripping love, thick enough to clog her mind and sticky up her thoughts.
It’s magnetic, the charge pulling her forward, upward, an anchor being reeled in. She climbs her mech, her heart thudding, its giant fingers stroking the curve of her back with incredible delicacy, yet still she's squished against the hull. Every touch could kill her, but she's not afraid of death. Her racing heart, her sweaty palms that slip from handholds even as she climbs—that fear is the same as ever: Noctil itself.
There's no sign of Luca inside that titanic mind, or at least not the part she's able to reach. All she finds is an absence, his sparkle having flickered out while she wasn’t looking. She pauses to catch her breath, kneeling on its shoulder, and folds over to shove her face against the plating, helpless grief pouring out of her in a scream. What was the point of everything, if she couldn't even save him? Noctil swallowed Luca whole, and here she is, driven by a desperate compulsion because her mech loves her so much and she loves it too, doesn't she? Even if she's scared of it, even if she hates it, even if she has to kill it—
you need me, Noctil says, all boiling pitch in her mind, and in this moment, she does. She kisses the panel and moves on, leaving Luca behind.
Noctil jerks its head and she stumbles, her knees hitting the black plating hard. Thick, dripping laughter crushes her mind and ripples beyond, Noctil’s isolation bay plunging suddenly into darkness as the power cuts. Marion blinks away the afterimage of the lit bay, and finds the glimmer of soft light illuminating Noctil like a galaxy. Swirling, living patterns of bioluminescent blue flicker across Noctil’s hull, flaring neon bright at the heart of the flow then dissolving into stars at the edges of each sweeping, curling tessellation. Stars sparkle around Marion's body where she sits against Noctil, vivid light rippling out from her hand as she strokes its hull.
She didn't know Noctil could be so beautiful. This part, she knows in the core of herself, is the Luca in this monster. How could he not bring the ocean with him, beyond death?
Noctil’s mouth splits beneath her in an alien smile, parting her knees. The tangle in her gut tightens and it’s all apprehension. She shouldn't be here with Noctil, wanting Noctil, after everything it's done to her. She hates this fucking thing. She loves it so much she feels her heart will burst. She holds tight to the horror of loving Noctil, lets the dread fill her until she wants to vomit. Noctil knows her intimately, knows disgust for her is the same as desire, and that this is an invitation.
Wet and shockingly soft, the tip of Noctil’s long tongue curls between her thighs and she gasps, gripping whatever she can find for stability as the mech moves in response to the sparks that burns through her skin.
look at you. Smug. It licks, slowly, between her legs, soaking her jumpsuit. More smug still as she grinds into the massive, powerful tongue, which is bizarre and slick and damn, she wants as much of that thing as she can get. Tendrils curl from its mouth and stroke across her hips, catching the tight fabric of her clothes and ripping it between her thighs, from her lower stomach to the base of her spine. Another big lick, and they both shiver. so wet for me, my little marion. you're so beautiful like this, sick with the realisation your traitor body wants me.
Noctil doesn't need to stop licking to talk, to play. Its wet tongue laps at her, messy and imprecise at that scale but Noctil’s enthusiasm makes up for a lot, or maybe too much. Marion's overwhelmed, thighs shaking, a bright heat filling whatever fucking analogous organs she's got filling her pelvis. It's not about the organs, it's about the heat, the light, the miniature nuclear reaction burning through her, triggered by Noctil's stupid, amazing tongue.
“Noctil.” Breathless, but her mech will always hear. Noctil's tongue shudders when she says its name aloud, and she trembles with it. “I think I'm a bad person.” Seems like as good a time as any to admit her fears, too overstimulated by being eaten out by her mech to think about anything except the dead emptiness inside her, held at the forefront of her mind.
you're perfect. Noctil’s voice spreads, cradling her mind as the tip of its tongue licks between her folds and slips inside her, then plunges deep. Pleasure explodes within, eclipsing the pain. Marion bursts into tears, her mind fracturing like a mirror as the fractal sensations bouncing between her and her mech intensify, her sobbed moan and Noctil’s deep hunger echoing through the connection. Her mech can feel everything she needs, so she knows it's intentional when Noctil doesn't touch her quite right, when it moves to frustrate her, sliding out to lick her thighs, her back, her covered chest, her face—and she parts her lips for it, disgusted, exasperated, rubbing herself against the thick meat of the lower tongue until Noctil laughs in her mind, merciless.
Stop fucking around, she says. Get back to fucking me.
you want me to what? That lazy, teasing tone.
Fuck me.
i didn't catch that.
Fuck you! Marion bites the tongue, the tendrils, and her mouth fills with something salty-sweet, then sour. Noctil wriggles down her throat and she chokes, gagging on the thick tongue and the sour taste. She’s glad Fract doesn’t taste like this.
She misses Fract suddenly and overwhelmingly, heart aching for those golden eyes. Noctil jerks her head back, reacting violently to her thoughts, anger dripping into her.
who is the person i can't see in your mind? a blank space through the connection. Marion thinks of Fract again, then panics at having immediately given her up. Noctil's tongue pushes deeper, hungrier, angrier, and she convulses for air. you're thinking of them now. don't hide things from me.
When she can't think for the lack of oxygen, Noctil withdraws from her mouth and she feels its tongue slide from her throat, and she gags again, coughing as she gulps down air. Spit and tendril juice drip from her lips.
“Consider this repayment for Luca,” she says, between panting breaths. Noctil expands in her skull, exerting pressure as, all at once, its tongue drives back into her, more aggressive—more possessive—than before. They both cry out, her wordless and Noctil with a smothering fury.
I DIDN'T KNOW. Desperate, furious, terrified. Noctil's outburst lets its emotions slip through the connection, too. WE DON'T KNOW WHO WE WERE BEFORE.
“But you chose me—” The tongue pulses, growing inside her as it licks deep, and her words evaporate.
yes, i chose you. i love you. it never mattered why. you were mine from the start. Tendrils wind around her legs to prevent her from slipping, or maybe running away. Noctil’s done with teasing. It plunges into her again and again, blue bioluminescence rippling out along its hull in pulsing beats from Marion’s body, as she clings to the tendrils holding her down and, finally, gives herself over to Noctil, drinking in her own self-disgust at the submission. If she felt hollow before, she doesn't anymore. Noctil's love, Noctil's tongue, Noctil's obsessive fury; at least one of those things is filling her.
my love. Everything Noctil is, in two words. Cracking her skull open and scooping out everything else. It’s like a heartbeat, the hot core of the tongue, the light in her gut, the twitch of her fingers against the sparkling blue. This is how Noctil breathes, inhaling her mind and exhaling its rotten love. Again.
my love.
The bioluminescence reminds her so of Luca, dead and finally gone. Patterns ripple like the fish he loved so much, and suddenly she’s crying again, bringing the ocean to whatever remains of him with her splashing tears. Fucked into submission by Noctil and failing to save Luca, Marion can’t bear to go home again. But Noctil will never judge her, never hate her, will always want her. As if to prove her right, tendrils tear her jumpsuit—and bra, fuck—open across her chest. Her freed breasts bounce with the pumping tongue, as Noctil’s mouth opens wider, its tongue pushing deeper, and she's so overcome she can't breathe. She feels Noctil admiring her body from the inside of her own mind and it makes puppets of her hands, grasping her breasts with such awed wonder, she can’t help but think of—
my love.
Riven—oh, he’s going to hate her for this, not that she'll ever see him again. Still, his face, broken by horrified betrayal, blooms in her mind and Noctil shivers with sick delight, tendrils constricting around her legs with a series of painful cracks. She screams.
my love.
Noctil would stop this if she wanted. It knows her mind and desires intimately. It doesn't stop; she doesn't want it to. Even now, even breaking under the immense weight of the mech's existence. She loves feeling like she doesn't have a choice, doesn't she? Loves the revulsion, the disgust, and the wriggling, licking, filling pleasure of the thing that killed her brother. The thing that is, partly, her brother and has her panting, begging for more, please—
my love!
Noctil draws her back. To the salt on her lips, the sweat in her hair, the slick liquid dripping down her thighs. To the fizzing heat between her legs, the pressure deep inside her that rises with every pulse of its monstrous tongue. To the tendrils drawing glistening trails across her body, finding the places that make her moan and squirm. To Noctil spreading her knees further still, relishing the burn of the stretch through her, taut as a drawn bow. To the feedback ringing in her ears, and the sounds she makes as heard by Noctil, bounced back to her mind, her voice softened effortlessly by its terrifying adoration. Noctil’s love is impossible, titanic, and staring directly at it is like blinding vertigo, obliterating the concept of up.
(Which is, funnily enough, how being fucked by it feels, too.)
Noctil was broken and hurt and she left it alone to rot. It waited for her. It knew she'd come back. She smiles at the mouth, tears dripping from her chin.
My love, she thinks, and Noctil’s intense, surprised joy at hearing those two words explodes through the connection, through its touch, and the pressure within her bursts into a shimmering rapture, all black and sparkling blue. Their tangled pleasures ripple back and forth, doubled over and over. The burning pitch pours from her mind and floods her body, and Noctil's tongue twitches inside her, and she doesn't even notice as she crushes the tendrils clenched in her fists, and she's barely aware as she cries out two new syllables, not intending a word, it's mindless cry of pleasure, but if it was a word—
Well, it sounds a little bit like Riven.
stay with me forever. The tongue slides heavily out of her and wraps her up, all wet with whatever it is the mechs use for lubrication. Tendrils stroke her face, her hair, her healing shins. Noctil doesn't seem to have noticed her confused, orgasmic near-slip, lost as it was in its own satisfaction.
“I'll never leave you again,” she says, and enough of her means it that Noctil doesn't doubt her for a second.
some horny sweet fire. marion meeting her future best friend/partner after he kidnapped her after accidentally killing her. he's a mess lol. some...? body horror? some sex.
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“Like what?” Marion asks, insistent. “Tell me something real, pilot.”
“Real, huh?” He's suddenly in front of her. Silently, he offers her the knife and she takes it. Hands trembling, he slowly unzips his jumpsuit over his chest and pulls the fabric aside to reveal a tangled mess of silver and purple scar tissue over his heart. “Seia did this to me.”
Marion searches his cracked visor as if she might find his eyes. “Why?” Her stomach twists as the pieces click into place. She leans away from the pilot, tasting bile. “Oh, fuck, she was trying to make—” The sentence is unfinishable. Impossible.
“Yeah, she was trying to turn me into something like Anima.”
She drives the blade through the scars, directly into his heart. He laughs, swaying forward.
“Monster,” she hisses. His helmet clunks against her forehead.
“I'm not the one who killed a pilot.” He groans as he rips the knife free. The tip teases between Marion’s ribs. “Mida was your friend, right?”
She digs her fingers into the hole in his chest, tearing skin and muscle. The knife slides smoothly into her and at first she only feels the pressure before the pain follows through. She gasps, face pressed against his helmet.
“Don't do that.” His voice is so small, so soft, she almost misses it beneath the roaring pain.
“Do what?” she asks between harsh breaths. The knife twists and an agonised moan slips between her teeth.
“Ah,” he breathes, almost pained. “That.”
“You're the one stabbing me. Don't tell me—” She curls her fingers around a rib and pulls him closer. “Pilot, is this turning you on?”
“Do you want it to?” He makes a strangled noise as she grinds her thigh up against him, then exhales, slamming her back against the console. The knife slides free only for him to sink it back into her side a rib lower, pausing to enjoy her broken moan. “I'm not a fucking monster, Marion. I didn't want to end up like this, I tried to stop it. You think you've got it so bad because you're a pilot, but I'd trade places in a heartbeat.” The blade slices out, then in, lower still. His body vibrates with a satisfied rumble as she fails to bite back more vocal pain. “Mm, I thought you'd at least try to understand.”
“You kidnapped and killed me.”
“That's a disingenuous read of the situation.”
“Absolutely it is.” She grins wildly through the pain, her sense of self-control about to snap. “Be honest, are you going to kill me, or fuck me?”
He hesitates, the knife nicking bone as he flinches. “Wait, I don't—”
“Fine, then I'll fuck you.”
Marion presses her lips against his skin just below the helmet, sliding her hands over the hot skin of his chest beneath his jumpsuit. He melts into her, blue steaming from the crack in his helmet. When she reaches to remove it he grabs her wrists, shaking his head.
“Don't.”
“Only if you give me a secret in its place.” Marion swings him around so he's the one trapped by her. He sits back on the console, considering her as he cradles her ass like she's something precious. It's almost endearing.
“A secret? Uh, sure. I'm not meant to be here, Seia didn’t send me. You inspired me to run away.” He yanks the knife from her side and stabs it into the console. “You tell me a secret.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
She feels his intense gaze on her as she hitches her skirt and climbs up, the console cold against her knees as she lowers onto him, gasping as he sinks deep, hard and searingly hot. He strips her bloody shirt and bra, testing the cuts between her ribs with teasing fingers. She realises he’s avoided piercing her lungs, which says something about him she doesn’t know how to decipher yet.
She rocks against the pilot, urging him deeper and rewarding him with more performative, breathless moans as he obliges. Forehead pressed to his helmet, she licks her lips, hoping he's just as desperate to kiss her as she is him.
“A secret,” he says, nudging her, and she can hear a grin in his voice. Damn, she was hoping he'd been distracted by her mouth. Her eyes dart to the knife, but sharing Noctil’s intrusive thought feels like too much. He brushes her patch of shimmering, pink skin. “What about this?”
“That’s where Mida got me. She nearly killed me.”
“Who saved you? This isn't from your mech, though that's mech stuff, isn't it?”
Marion runs a finger down his chest. “That’d be two secrets. I don't trust you enough for that.”
“But you trust me enough to fuck me.”
“Maybe I'm desperate.”
The pilot tilts his head, running a gloved hand between her breasts. “Nah, I'm the desperate one. If you want to use me for this, I'll do anything for you.” He pauses, enamoured by the way her breast fits in his hand, glove rough against sensitive skin. “Actually, I’d do anything for you regardless.”
