#[musings]: thoughts of a man who tried to be icarus

[hxperion]

tag dump

handsome jack tag dump part : 1/?

[simping-on-the-daily]

you look good tonight (strangled by your tie to me)

Summary: Bill’s off celebrating the Endless Party with their friends, instructing you to teach the senior citizen some new moves. Reader desperately tries to assure themselves they’re mentally well.

Part 2 to this!! And this one won the poll, so here ya go!!

Warnings: Gore, Reader’s heart gets abused again, forced pet regression/mind control, toxic relationships, mentions of bullying, the inherent weirdness of asking a mind-controlled dogboy to kiss you, Reader's morally ambigious/on a destructive power trip

Notes: Title is from HalaCG’s Nightmare Worldwide, Reader has an ambiguous birth defect/condition, though I tend to imagine it as polycoria or something similar to Down Syndrome, Reader slanders BookTok, references to The Yellow Wallpaper, Bill's all pronoun swag continues, Reader's mentioned to have hair as a minor

As a young adult, The Yellow Wallpaper used to fascinate you as a kid. A tale of medical misogyny at its worst, how the woman’s postpartum depression morphed into something sinister because of her husband’s twisted ‘care.’ You once promised yourself that you were nothing like the woman, that you were stronger than her. You were smarter and better than her, you’d escape the yellow wallpaper with your sanity intact.

Of course, you’d soon learn that knowing from her example does not make you better than the woman. You were not superior to Icarus because you learned from his mistakes, you could never understand the hubris of a mad scientist because you weren’t a scientist. Meeting Ford and catching a few moments of intellectual lucidity from Old Man McGucket were sciency enough for you (quantum mechanics were so not your style). Accepting that you were human and the woman was human made you feel better about yourself.

Now? You weren’t really sure that you were human, not anymore. And you're not sure if you're the woman now, because she lost herself to the delusions of isolation and thought she was the figure in the wallpaper. But there was a man in front of you, crawling on all fours, just like the shadow, and you don't think you could ever become him. You were better then him.

Ford stared up at you, awestruck, as he always had. Did he see you as another Muse, another polygon to worship and put posters all over the basement, to dedicate his work in your name? Though, it probably wasn’t all directed at you, and you hated the way you wanted to grab Ford by the face and let his nose touch yours and not let go.

Because right beside you was Bill motherfucking Cipher, floating all smug with his cane and if you weren’t focused on Ford you’d take that giant stick you’d shove it in his eye before praying to whatever God was still alive that Bill had an ass you could shove the stake up of. And her stupid face was smug too, expression in the closest thing you think she could get to a lazy grin.

“So, snookums, you know what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck.” You were supposed to listen to them?

“Haha, need a recap? I’m a-okay with that!” Bill’s eye turned upwards in giddy glee. “Previously on Keeping Up With The Ciphers-” “Are you fucking kidding me-?”

“The best friend forever, Bill, promised his Henchmaniacs he’d go out and join them on an all out tour of Oregon! Tickets sold out, eat your heart out, Tay-tay!” With a sickening lurch and a weak scream littered with swearing, your heart was ripped out of your socket and Bill took a nibble. You curled in on yourself, hiding your attempt at a bird flip as you stared up at Bill with seething contempt. You hated how that was their new recurring gag.

“While we’ll be having fun and increasing our ALL-SEEING EYES on the Pines family,” Your heart lurched, resuming your prayers for their safety and happiness. Soos and Wendy were good kids, and the kids couldn’t take the grief if something happened to them. “Sugarbun and Sixer will be having some quality master pet time!”

The way your heart soared knowing who was the pet and who had the control could not be water-boarded out of you.

“You’ll be teaching this old dog new tricks, give his bones a peaceful workout! Say, being on his knees is letting them rest way more than always running away from the Quxezquan?” Bill floated over to Ford, rubbing his hand through his hair. You can confirm Ford purred at that one.

“You know dog-shit about human anatomy.”

“But I know dog-lots about sweet Sixer here, and that’s the important part! Give me some more time and I’ll know LOTS about you as well! The heart’s where the soul is, and we’ve been getting real intimate!” Her fingers began to rip your organ in half, and you resisted the urge to scream. Dipper had a whole rap recording of his voice cracks, you didn’t need a more fucked up version of that.

“I’ll leave this here, if you wanna play a few games with Fordsy!” With an unceremonious squelch, your heart fell to the ground. “Well, I’ll be off! Byeeeeeeee, sweeties!” With that, Bill vanished in a flash of golden, Ford turning his eyes from her to you.

“........Hi?” Not your best.

Ford embraced the ground more than he already had, forehead touching the floor. So, he thought everything was your best. You refused to address how euphoric that made you feel.

“Let’s just……run through the basics, I think?” You didn’t really want to cope with a Bill who came back and learnt you didn’t do his instructions. Everytime they came back from the Henchmaniacs, she was always jumping for joy or ready to rip either you or Ford’s face off. Ford seemed to enjoy it but Bill said he liked to respect your boundaries, said that they’d give you time. Bullshit.

Ford nodded, hearts in his eyes as he looked up to you, getting up and ‘standing’ at perfect, doggy attention. Fuck, you were always more of a cat person, what were you supposed to do now? Fuck, you needed your phone.

You stuttered a bit, brain racking through the list of easy tricks. Ford’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, but the look of sheer love in his eyes didn’t subside.

“L-Lie down.” That seemed like the easiest one.

Like a lightbulb turned on, Ford’s face brightened, before flopping on his right side. You distinctly remember it as the way human Ford, pre-Weirdmaggedon Ford would occasionally go to bed, one the few occasions he did and didn’t pose like a dead man.

It felt a bit off to you, though. “Upright.” Dogs layed like that, right?

With no hesitance, Ford adjusted his position, lying on his stomach, hands stretched out towards you on the floor. Yeah, that looked more accurate. “Roll over.” You continued, motivated by Ford’s face and your lack of failure. Ford continued to impress, with a quick roll you think you’d seen in action movies, hands and legs up as his stomach faced the roof, decorated by Bill’s visage, surrounded by a wheel of household items, what you’re pretty sure was an alpaca, and stuff you immediately recognised from the Pines Family. After all, you knew only one man who wore that crescent oyster phoenix pearl fish thing.

“Play dead.” Ford’s limbs were out strewn before going slack, tilting so that he leaned more to the left.

“Headstand?”

Ford’s head titled in confusion. God, that was stupid. What kind of dogs could do a headstand?

“Fuck!” You growled under your breath, bitter that your streak was ruined. Your anger was interrupted by Ford’s nose gently nuzzling your knee, and you felt it all dissipate. Times like these reminded you that Bill wasn’t going to be death of you. Rather, it was his damned dog and his adorable little glasses and cute innocent smile.

You pat his head gently, and Ford only responded with a ‘yip!’, which he could apparently do. As if your heart wasn’t growing three times its size every day Fordsy was in your vicinity.

“Kiss me.”

What.

“I-” You froze, arms outstretched as your hands shook. “No, that’s weird, you’re in the headspace of an animal, that’s so fucked- but like, people do way worse then that, right? People wayyyy younger then me writing all their stories about rich millionaires and getting their brothers to fuck you instead, ha, yeah, I’m way better then those TikTokers and their books-”

His lips touched yours. Ford was fucking kissing you. This was wrong. He was being mind controlled, there was probably a pendulum swinging in his brain to keep him like this, you weren’t Bill, you were better than him, you were better then the high-schoolers and kids who picked on you and threw rocks at you and locked you in the closet and made you play seven minutes in heaven with a guy who threatened to cut your hair-

And yet you leaned in. You grabbed him by the waist and hugged him, as though you were going to lift him up. You couldn’t- Ford was tall and you weren’t in your prime, but knowing that Ford wouldn’t fight you if you tried felt like a massive boost to your confidence. He’d do anything for you, he’d protect you from the kids who called you a freak and never invited you to their birthdays. And he’d do it with a smile, because he loved you and Bill-

Bill. You opened your eyes (when did you close them?) and looked up to the roof, terror etched in your pupils.

Bill’s visage, surrounded by that stupid wheel.

You pushed Ford off, overcome by panic. He wasn’t out with the Henchmaniacs, he was probably laughing at you and saying that you were a horrible person who deserved to be alone but you weren’t. You were a good person. Ford wouldn’t have hung out with you if you were a bad person. Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t hang out with you if you were a bad person. Stan wouldn’t let you be near the kids or Ford if you were a bad person. Wendy and Soos wouldn’t let you hang out near the kids or the shack if you were a bad person.

But you had just kissed Ford when he was a dog. You liked it when he was a dog. You enjoyed the power you had over him. You wanted your name on his collar and for your symbol to be on his leash, not just that triangle chain that connected the two.

You fell to the ground, unable to stand. You stomped on your heart and something burst, blood splattering all over your face and arm. You didn’t scream, though, or curl in on yourself. The pain of one organ and its constant abuse was nothing compared to the rollercoaster your mind was.

I’m a good person. I’m better than the people who hurt me. I won’t hurt people. My revenge is being better than those who hurt me.

Your misery was interrupted by Ford, curling up next to you with a worried look and a yip. You stroked his hair, the pattern soothing the tension in your body ever so slightly, but unlike with the headstand, he couldn’t fix this or soothe your worries. Not when he had caused them, not when he was the root. Ford and his stupid little cute face and the way he didn’t look so stressed and the way those soft gloves were probably protecting him from the pain of his knuckles on the ground.

No, not him. Never Ford. You couldn’t blame him, heaven knows he did that enough himself. Bill, it had to be Bill. Because it couldn’t be you. You couldn’t be a monster, you couldn’t be continuing a cycle of pain just because the opportunity was in your lap.

The woman in The Yellow Wallpaper had no-one, not really. All she had was her husband’s shitty reassurances that she’d be ‘cured’ if she stayed in the nursery and a woman she made up. You weren’t the woman, because the two people who haunted you were very much real. The psychical manifestations of a drug and the dealer.

You weren’t sure which was worse.

[mr-orion]

ok I must have more lore on this Icarus I keep seeing since I’m officially in love with him and want to kiss

he and I should kiss

also may I draw him bc that drawing you posted of him gossiping tickles my brain so much-

"I guess if the inspiration strikes... me being your muse must happen."

Oh boy. He's a bit of a firecracker and not very PG. He's in fact, kind of mean. As for the kissing, you and Ray both, though I think Icarus will shake you down for all your cash before you start getting any affection. As for drawing, yeah! I'm always grateful for any drawings and honestly treasure each one I get!

I don't see the harm in saying it as it is. He's a prostitute and escort. Man is raking in the big bucks working under Stags INC. The only reason Ray and him are friends is because Icarus has a lot of intel on the people manning the cartels. While Ray initially got his cooperation by bargaining to sweep his drug use under the carpet, he found Ray is a fun guy and not too sleazy to be around. Plus he's fun to tease, which is Icarus' favorite thing.

He's a Stav'raw, as opposed to Ray who is an Auveri. Unlike Ray he cannot fly. He has dense bones and his wings are only good for a glide. Which, he doesn't preen them. He was never taught so he is absolutely matted with feathers he hasn't thought to pull out. He's actually much more vibrant but because he's so fucking crusty with feathers from his whole existence you can't really tell. Additionally the sclera of his eyes is black. Along with his mouth and lips. He also gave himself a split tongue.

He comes from a very neglectful household with a mother who was a first generation Earthian and a non-existent father. He found his profession as a way out of that bad situation. Though Icarus' dream job is being able to help kids someday. He wants to be a pediatrician for alien children, believing that if one adult had noticed the abuse happening to him he could have been helped.

While Icarus doesn't think he'll make it because of his job history, Ray encourages him. Also reassures him that there are other ways he can help people. While Icarus is bummed he's only just starting to get into the 9 years of schooling at 28, he remains hopeful.

His hobbies consist of video games, nursing classes, clubbing, taking his dogs for walks along the beach, and riding his motorcycles around.

Another fun fact is that this man is absolutely the best of friends with Rays older brother Rowan. Though he has no clue the two are related because they look nothing alike and it's just never comes up. It will be chaos when all three of them figure it out and Rowan tries to beat him for trying to rizz up his beloved sibling. Ray will also get a scolding for bringing sweet, innocent Icarus into his less ethical detective practices. Ha.

Additionally, in freak coincidence Rowans child, is also his niece! He genuinely had no clue until one night in a deep conversation his best friend opened up about how similar Icarus looks to his niece, Onyx's egg donor. Icarus developed an even deeper hatred for his twin sister that night upon Rowan opening up even more about what his sister did to him. (It gets real fucking dark, so I'll spare those details.)

Icarus absolutely hates talking about his blood relations unless its Onyx. Who he treasures deeply and is so proud of. And by proxy Rowan. Of course. Who is his bro, his best friend, his pogchamp.

I can't think of much more, if you want to know something specific please feel free to send more asks!

[goat-and-a-pig]

Chapter 6

Stan grumbled. “Follow me.” He started up the stairs with the weirdos behind him.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet,” he told them. “Can you do that?” They nodded. Stan slowly opened the door and peeked out.

Nobody was there.

He silently let out a sigh of relief. Stan crept down the hallway and found a door. With Icarus and Mabel in tow, they escaped.

“So,” Stan panted. “You’re sure you’re not my brother? You’ve got twelve fingers and twelve toes. Also, what’s up with the hair?” Icarus rolled his eyes and replied, “While I remember none of this, Bill thankfully filled in the gaps. I was mutated by radiation from Bill’s universe- as was Mabel. I have extra digits and really fast growing hair. Any more questions?”

“WHAT THE HE-” he caught himself. There was a child here. “-ck is wrong with your eye?!?” But Icarus was not deterred. “I was nearly dead when Bill found me, so he lent me part of himself so that I could survive. Unfortunately for his independence, it didn’t quite work and now he’s merged with me for life. He can only be so far away from me for so long. And when I awoke after my near death experience, I couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened before,” he explained. “You done yet?”

“Just one more.” Stan held up a finger. Icarus sighed. “Alright then. What is it?”

“Icarus?!?” Stan could hardly control his laughter. “Seriously? Out of all of the names, why Icarus?” When Stan finally quit laughing, Icarus spoke, his ears burning. “When Bill… merged with me, he saw my last thoughts and Icarus was among them. He assumed it was my name. Which, I guess if I wasn’t thinking of my name, then I would be eligible to be your brother, whatever his name is, if I hadn’t been mutated. But why is Icarus such a bad name?”

Stan scoffed. “Why’d you want to be named after that idiot in the fairy tale? And my brother’s name is Ford, thanks.” Icarus frowned. “Fairy tale?” He asked.

“Just some dumb myth about a kid who flies too close to the sun, melts the wax on his wings, and like, dies,” he answered carelessly. “If you ask me, the moral of the story is to not be an overachiever.” He thought about his brother, then shook the thought off. “Huh,” Icarus mused. Stan cleared his throat. “So you’re sure this Bill guy didn’t lie to you about the mutation?”

“I trust Bill. He wouldn’t lie to me. And even if he tried, look at Mabel! She was mutated too!” Mabel gave him an awkward smile that didn’t feel genuine. What was her story?

Icarus’ stomach let out a huge rumble, interrupting Stan’s thoughts. “Excuse me,” he said, turning red with embarrassment. “I forgot to eat dinner with all of the stuff going on.”

“Dinner?” Man, he is way off schedule, Stan thought. But he smiled. He still had one more trick up his sleeve to get the journal back easily without all of this “archive” nonsense. “Are you hungry? I’m starving! Let’s go get some food. I know the perfect place. It’s not like, filled with thugs or something. It’s called the Cuddly Plaidypus!” Icarus flinched at the word thugs. “Thugs?” He asked quietly. His eyes flicked to Mabel.

Oh. He’s trying to protect her. Stan felt guilty for a moment. Well, he figured, if Icarus takes her back with him to the spaceship after they’re frightened out of their wits, she’d be safer than if she was on this journey. He glanced at Mabel. She stared back at the two of them. But I get the feeling she’d be fine facing against thugs- I think she’s more capable than she looks. “None,” he replied confidently. “Um… Okay then,” he agreed hesitantly. “Where is this place?”

Stan grinned. “It’s this way. Follow me.”

[littlefreya]

The Way to Hell - Part 11

Synopsis: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Ethan Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man alive. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped, unaware of the trained assassin who is sent to bring him down.

Chapters:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Completed.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings:  Explicit smut, violence, gore, cutting, angst, manhandling, choking, foul language, bondage, breath play, unprotected sex. 

A/N: Assuming my usual panic attack positions! Ok, so there are about 2 chapters left and I fear this story is about to conclude... 😰 This chapter put me through an emotional turmoill! Many thanks for my editor and muse @agniavateira, @yespolkadotkitty for the cover art and @dancingwendigo and @wondersofdreaming who’re helping me through my panic attacks and providing tips

Please comment, review and reblog.  💖

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Title: Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me

Pearly tendrils of light shine through the creases of his lids, waking him from a dreamless sleep. A mixture of iron and dream-like mellowness tugs at his nose, like death and fresh roses. It’s so close he can nearly taste it on his parched tongue. Swallowing the scorching dryness in his throat, the fallen man attempts to move but a leaden warmth defies him, hugging softly onto his upper torso and embracing him in the foreign fog of solace. 

A delicate heartbeat murmurs against his, so frail it virtually feels as if it melted into his own ribs. 

As if she dissolved into him.

Cold sweat layers his forehead. Snapping frantically he shoves the girl off of him, curling against the headboard with a crazed neurotic look on his face as if he was touched by a blaze of blistering fire. 

“What the fuck do you want!?” August yells, his voice hoarse and cracked. His glare shoots through her across the small bedroom, his mind rapidly trying to grasp any recollection of the messy chamber. This location is strange to him; the walls feel like they’re closing in, withdrawing the air from his lungs in a place that seems like a warzone. The light-carpeted floor is soiled by a long path of the darkest red, the trail leading back to them.  

The porcelain valkyrie is pushed to the edge of the bed, seemingly like a rare mythological creature. Her long hair drapes her face like a dark veil, pierced by two shiny diamonds that glimpse through, imbued with naivety. Still drowsy, she tries to collect her own senses, rubbing her heavy forehead and releasing a soft groan.

“Relax, stop shouting.” she pleads with lids half shut. Her slender arms spread in the air, suggesting a peace treaty. 

August scowls, his airflow becoming short and quickened. He lets a hand rave over his chest with panic, finding it bare and sticky with dry blood and sweat. A clean bandage is wrapped around his left pectoral and crossed tightly around one shoulder. While the aching sting still bites into the wounded muscle, his energy has slightly renewed, as well as his sanity. 

Or so he believes. 

Making another hasty survey of the room, he finds his belt and armed holster scattered on the floor. He makes a dash for it, immediately aiming the gun in Ingvild’s direction, refusing to fall to whatever game this may be.  

She stares at him motionless, remaining seated with her knees folded and her feet nestled below her behind. “Feels nice doesn’t it?” she provokes, her lips breaking into a faint grin as if the muscles of her face are still learning the concept of smiling. “To wake up with your tits out.”

Looking back at her unamused, his hand waves the gun. A glower shadows his face, painting deep lines in his forehead. The attempt to greet her with an onslaught of insults results in nothing but a painful wheeze as his throat sears. 

“Don’t move,” Ingvild commands lightly and climbs off the bed, completely ignoring the click of the gun and August’s arm that follows her every movement. Her legs nearly float through as she moves gracefully, rushing to the bathroom nearby. She grabs a glass and fills it from the tap before quickly returning to sit on the bed, offering the tall glass to August.

Wary of her peace offering, he hesitates, scanning her for any signs of wickedness and finding none. Something else glints through her big irises instead. The deep lines that dot those beautiful greys seem so brittle, immersed in emotion he can’t define or recognize at all. 

It makes him feel attacked.

Snatching the glass violently, he swallows its content in one gulp, feeling a thirst he never sensed in his entire existence. He places the glass on the nightstand, slamming it so harshly it shatters.  

Ingvild peers at the light sparkling onto the broken shards and averts her eyes back to August’s profoundly ragged face. He glares with blazes of fury, evidently less than inclined to trust her despite her efforts to make amends, and the fact that she nursed him through a stormy night. 

It pricks her heart, more than it ever did when she tried to gain Liam’s affection.

“I could have killed you at least three times in your sleep,” she murmurs and then pauses, attempting to smirk again. “You should really lay off the snacks, I nearly fainted trying to get you to the bed.”

Unphased, he carefully gauges her appearance. Soft, pale light shines through the window, showering her skin with a mellow haze as she sits holding a hand over her forearm, squeezing it nervously. Her glance is filled with rain clouds, the cynicism and the hatred he grew so accustomed to is untraceable. 

A piece inside her shifted, deeming her fragile all of the sudden. In his heart of tar and stone, he knows she speaks the truth, yet the spirit of vengeance won’t let go. Bile rises in his throat, fingers twitching as the constant hunger to touch her prickles his skin. The woman is a natural prey to him, making his mouth salivate. It’s enough to see her defenceless to make him want to gnaw fresh cavities in her flesh. 

But something else boils in his veins. More than just a primal need.

“Why can’t you just let me be?” he asks sharply, teeth gritted and jaw strained tightly. A slight tremor runs through his bones, his body dominated by anger and despair. 

“You came here,” she answers, staring fearlessly between the barrel and his furious gaze. A small frown forms between her eyebrows, the grey clouds inside her lustrous eyes beginning to take wind. “You wanted to retaliate.”

Fragments of the other night begin to slice into the black matter of his brain: her tears, her lips moving slowly, whispering his own words of a vendetta in her angelic voice. 

Like a dream, nebulous and virginal, how beautiful she was surrendering her will to his. 

‘Fight it! She betrayed you.’

“Oh trust me, princess, I still very much want to see you die.” he retorts, the gun beginning to feel heavy in his hand. He reaches to hold his own wrist, giving a fierce glare. “You should have ended it, darling.”

“Yes, I should’ve killed you,” she agrees, her lower lip slightly quivering as she looks at him with desperation. Her chest begins to heave through the cleavage of her top, the same tarnished one she wore that night. It still smells like his sweat. His musk is so stubborn it lingers. 

“I should be a good girl, for Liam, for Icarus. But I have so many thoughts going through my head over and over again, splitting my mind in half. I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to kill for them, I don’t want to kill you. It hurts.”

Shuffling in a swift movement, she crawls toward him, her muscles flexing inward. Her slick manoeuvres remind him of a majestic feline. August’s pupils dilate as the lines of her face sharpen in his sight and the warmth of her body returns to caress him like a pleasant autumn breeze.

Ingvild reaches her slender arm for his wrist fearlessly before he can even muster any protest. Ignoring the gun aimed at her throat, she forces his palm flat onto her chest and inhales sharply. Her heart thunders against his touch, making his own beat accelerate.  

“Right here,” she says, gazing deeply into his eyes as if trying to enchant him. “I have killed close to 470 people since I was 14. I don’t remember their faces, but I do know I never felt this before, not for any of them.”

The azure ocean in August’s eyes gushes with alarming gusts. The scarce physical contact ignited a spark inside him, driving him to withdraw his hand aggressively, putting down the flame before it begins to spread again. 

“What do you want? What do you think this is?” he asks furiously, boring a frenzied look into her eyes. He feels a certain heat rising in his chest. He reasons with himself that it’s just the gunshot wound festering, burning his lungs to cinders.

“I want you,” she answers, her gaze dropping to his lips, admiring the fine shape. A sharp cupid’s bow hidden beneath the coarse hair of his thick moustache. Her hands dream of stroking his sculptured jaw and feel the bristle of his untamed stubble. 

“I want to follow you on your mission.”    

‘She is lying. Don’t trust her, remember what happened the last time you’ve placed your faith in a woman?’

August’s nostrils flare, his mind scouring frantically, bargaining for a reason why she would be different. Twice he spared her, his murderous will weakened by her manipulative spells, clawed by whatever it was she had on him. The voice in his head warns him gravely, yet the fact that here he is, still alive by her merciful hand spikes his doubts, meddling with his thoughts the way only she could do. 

Ever since she stepped into his life he’s been spiralling into a cataclysm. Something that he always gripped with zeal was no longer in his control.  

Leaning closer, he narrows his eyes with spite. The muscle of his jaw contracts, clenching tightly. He grazes the cold barrel of the gun against the supple skin of her cheek. “Why should I trust you?” he spits out, tracing her face further with the hard, crude metal.  “You think that because I broke you in, I actually care about you?”

Ingvild studies his face, not showing any sign of fear as she nods to herself. “You need proof.”

The young woman looks around her, searching for something in the room thoughtfully. Her eyes rest on the nightstand beside August and she leans to it, brushing her entire figure against his broad body for a split second as she reaches for the broken glass. 

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?” he asks cautiously, his eyes following her every move.  He crooks his eyebrow as she sits in front of him with her legs bunched beneath her bottom. Displaying her left arm with her elbow resting on one knee and her palm facing upward, she presses the shard against her wrist. 

August frowns in a mixture of confusion and agitation, alarm bells ringing at the back of his head. Yet no rational thought makes it to his mind as he watches the glass tear through her skin. 

Silence befalls the room. Abruptly so quiet he can hear the buzz of the electric cords running through the walls. Even her breath pauses as her right hand drops the shard on the bed, her eyes remaining poised, darting onto his. Overcome with disbelief he wonders if she actually did it, scrutinizing her flesh which seems intact.  

Suddenly, a spout of blood emerges through her open wrist. 

Dark red liquor licks down her arm, sensually dripping onto her worn jeans and pooling onto the blanket. August’s heart stirs with shock, yet he attempts to force his emotions away. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” 

Keeping her sight on his, Ingvild remains still, not flinching a muscle as the blood pumps out of her severed artery. The pain is excruciating yet the chants in her mind continue to tell her to hold her groans inside. 

‘Show no weakness, prove your strength.’

“You want loyalty.”

“Won’t mean a thing if you’re dead,” he answers coldly, waiting for her to stop the blood, to show any fear or regret. The thick liquid continues to flow down her arm, tarnishing her porcelain skin that begins to turn paler as the blood drains from her body. He gathers the torture must be unbearable yet she won’t even make a whimper.

‘What is she waiting for?’

“I’m not going to save you,” August warns. 

Ingvild shrugs lightly, trying not to move her arm too much. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll die one way or another, by your hand or Icarus’. At least this gives me a choice.”

The drops staining the bed sound like rain tapping against a window ledge, heavy and dull.

August’s brows knit together, his eyes running back and forth between her arm and her face, watching her lips turning light blue, triggering disturbing memories in his mind. “What on earth does that mean?” Heavy frown lines paint his forehead as he recalls her words before she shot him. 

“I have to kill you.” 

“You’re a slave?” he reckons, looking at the colour vanishing from her face as she nods. “How very disappointing, Ingvild.”

“A tool, controlled by men whom I’ve never seen to manipulate the world and sustain the old order, as you wrote in your manifesto.” she shuts her eyes for a mere second, trying to push back the throbbing twinge in her vein as her body screams with panic. 

“They stole my freedom…” she pauses, finding it suddenly hard to speak. “They stole me... what did they take from you?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snaps, aware of how her voice slows down along with her breath. He swears he can hear her heartbeat getting louder as if begging to be rescued. 

“But I am bleeding for you.” she provokes, offering a small weak chuckle. Feeling the euphoria creeping to her mind. “You should tell me your plans like villains do in the movies. I’m dying anyway.”

August snarls. Shaking his head, his eyes hold a rageful ocean, washed with concern. The image of her dying corpse lying beneath him flashes into his memory. A dead angel in the snow, lips frozen in time. He should have left her there in the frozen lake. But for a split second, she was Lacey and then she wasn’t. 

As she slowly dives into her own death, he still wonders why he couldn’t let her drown.

‘For fuck’s sake.’

Ingvild closes her eyes accepting the shadows that seduce her to join them, the pain dwindling as her body gives in. But she’s quickly pulled back by August who holds her hand, covering the bleeding slit with his tattered shirt and pressing into it. His voice comes as distant thunder, vibrating gently in her ears before words begin to make sense again.  

“Hold it up, like this,” he commands her, folding her arm and fisting her wrist tightly. “Where are the bandages?”

Ingvild tilts her chin, her sleepy eyes gesturing onto her bag on the floor where a pristine white pack of badges lies. 

“Keep the pressure on,” he orders her again. His voice is calm as if once again he follows protocols. Yet something stirred, hiding within the silent sea of his eyes which snap at her for a split second. 

They’re tainted by fear. 

Ingvild watches with hushed admiration as he hurries to grab the bandage and returns to her. A small wrinkle rests between his brow, focusing intently on wrapping her open wound. He makes such a beautiful, neat work dressing her injury, she almost feels sorry for making a mess out of his.    

“Have I proved myself?” she taunts, peeking at him through her lashes while he makes work of tying the dressing tightly at her wrist. His elegant hands wrap a piece of medical duct tape around the bandages, twirling the long thick bands ceremonially as if they were silk ribbons.

His stern gaze rests upon her face, noting every flake of her long lashes, watching the different colours shift like thick liquid as daylight breaks onto her glassy irises. Awe plays with the strings in his chest, mesmerized by the innocence in her that refuses to die even after he desecrated her. 

The craving in him seethes. Like a thirsty man in the desert who stumbles onto an oasis.    

‘You can’t let her go, can’t let her slip between your fingers.’

With her wrist still in his grasp, he allows himself to stroke a thumb over the white cotton of the bandage, brushing the suppleness of her skin.

“This is not the devotion I need from you, princess.”

Ingvild flinches like a scared animal, shivering at the foreign tenderness of his touch. No one ever touched her with kindness. Soft, feather-like caresses embark further up her milky skin, making her moan at the pleasant new sensation. Light and careful, his fingers ascend to her neck and press around her chin.  

“Angel,” August murmurs, low and sonorous. His bulky body looms closer, whilst the grip around her jaw becomes tense, drawing her closer until his lips are a mere inch away from hers. “Do you want to be devoted to me?”

“Yes,” she answers, voice still lingering either by blood loss or the passion that begins to cloud her mind.

Consoled by her answer, a small growl builds in the pit of August’s diaphragm, accompanied by a lustful grin that edges his chiselled face. 

“Then show me your devotion.”

“No…” she protests lightly, finally breaking into a true little smile that glints brightly in her eyes. The radiance almost makes him want to take it from her by force. “I’m not a toy.” 

August smirk widens at her response, exposing his sharp fangs that beam at the faint hint of rosy hues that circles her cheeks. 

“Did I stutter?” Authority paints his voice, his grip putting pressure on her nape and pressing her chin up with the pad of his thumb. The patience in him wears thin, greed weaving in his gut yet he vows to hold back as much as possible, unwilling to tear down her wings. 

She must submit freely.

Fallen by his power, she watches the darkness pour into his eyes, his lips pulling apart slightly, anticipating the moment when he can steal the air from her lungs and nibble into the plumpness of her lips. Whatever strength in her wanes, bending to his will. She meekly takes his lips into hers, suckling him above and below, feeling the rough graze of his moustache. 

It’s nothing like the violent kiss they shared in the pit, yet something in her quickly awakens: a hunger like no other, turning the kiss more demanding. Like fire spreading, their tongues quickly engulf each other, dancing feverishly. August’s growl vibrates all the way down her sternum, his hands roaming down to grope every patch of skin. 

A mewl of protest breaks from her as he leaves her lips, followed by a deep sigh as he begins to kiss down her throat. The scruff of his coarse facial hair makes her blood rush and her heart pumps with exhilaration, nearly halting from the bliss of his touch.

“I want everything.” August blurts out, tugging her shirt over her head and then biting her breasts over her bra. The canvas of her skin is tainted by deep-grey and purple shades. Flicking the clasp of her bra, he wonders briefly which were from their fight and which formed as he fucked her so aggressively. He feels nothing but pride in knowing he will make new ones right now. Brand her as he claims her his own. 

Sharp teeth sink into her tender breasts, coaxing yips of pain, marking her with wet little cavities while his fingers fiddle with her jeans, urgently huddling it down her legs along with her underwear. Impassioned, she shifts from her position, kicking away the last remnants of her clothes. The chill air tickles her wet flesh, making her exhale with ghastly need. More wolf than a man, August leans back, his torso layered with sweat that glistens of the dark fur of his torso. The fabric of his trousers is stretched painfully over the massive bulge and mindlessly she reaches out to feel him, kneading the outlines of his erection through his pants. 

‘Fuck, her touch...’ 

Fervent groans tremor through his sinew as she squeezes him harder. She frees him from his trousers, running a hand up and down his shaft, astounded by his vastness and the correlation of smooth velvet skin over rock-hard muscle. 

Still sore, the pounding heat of need rocks at the centre of her cunt, possessing her into swaying her perky breasts against his cock. Pearly beads of precum exude from the tip, coating the erected peaks of her nipples.

“Fuck!” August pants and swallows hard, as the battle over his self-control drains him. Patience has always been his virtue in bed, his power over women. Release in control by sodomy that inflicted true pleasure. 

But not with her. She strings different tunes, singing seductive hymns to the animal in him. 

He wants her. He needs her. He must have all of her.  

‘I deserve her.’

Drawing back against the headboard, his hands snap at her hip, lifting her with ease to stand on her knees right above his cock. Ingvild nibbles at her bottom lip, her eyes falling onto his hardened shaft which lies heavily against his abs. 

If not for all the injuries she caused him, the large man’s Adonis-like form would have looked like a renaissance statue cut out of marble. 

“Come here,” he commands, removing one hand from her to seize the base of his huge cock which towers with glory amidst the dark bundles of curls. “Take me in”

A stream of arousal rushes inside her, making her quiver as she lowers her soaked crease onto his erection ever so gingerly. Cries of overwhelm break from her lips. His girth splits her apart, whilst his wolf-like glares bore into hers with the triumph of conquest. 

Every push stretches her wider, forcing her body to succumb and accept him despite the painful effort. August is too big, his vastness tears whatever innocence is left to her, and he is not even fully within.

Shivering, she halts, hearing August’s snarl of protest when realizing she has her nails cleaving crescent-marks on his pumped shoulders.  

“All the way in, angel,” he commands, and then bucks his hips into her and snaps her down onto his pulsating shaft, giving no notice to the scream she lets out as he sears her. 

He drives himself in until her ass slams onto his thick thighs. She can feel his hot flinching cock buried within the dark pit of her gut while his sack strains against her clenched cavern. 

“Good girl.” August praises, pressing her against his chest as they both pant and groan in harmony. Calls of pleasure and cries of pain mingle into a sinful symphony.

But suddenly he stills, and his hand snaps at her neck. Thumb pressing at her artery, he makes a small thrust, causing her to whine as little sparks kindle in her cunt. 

“August, please.” she whimpers, trying to ride him to ease the aching despair that boils in her cunt. He fills her to the hilt yet gives no friction but the thundering throb of his thick veins. 

“Devotion.” he replies, his free arm fishing for the leather belt perched on the floor. With one determined wring of his wrist,he wraps it around her neck, giving her a nice little collar with a leash made of the thick strap. 

His finger brushes up and down the leather erotically, staring at the girl’s hazy grey orbs to see if he can find a drop of protest.   

Instead, she presses her hands on his furry torso and desperately begins to mount him with teetering gasps. The noose tightens with the sway of her body yet the tension and the grind within is far too agonizing to stay still; the need to have him sunken in her depth of her soul defies any will to breathe.

August gapes his mouth with awe, groaning loudly as he feels her drenched cunt gripping around. She’s impossibly tight, his fresh little flower, crying out so hopelessly as if it hurts, as if being fucked by his large cock is so pleasurably unbearable yet her life depends on it.

“Poor little tight cunt,” he taunts, urging her to fall faster back on his thighs while bucking his hips into her with deep slams. “you missed this?” he asks with a groan, tying the strap around his fist and pulling her closer to meet his hooded gaze, “You missed me fucking you, angel?”

Unable to make more than strangled sobs, she nods with glassy eyes, feeling the squeeze around her arteries while her cunt convulses and blazes with ecstasy. Flames bloom in the pit of her womb, every assault of his cock inside her pushes the heat further through her nerves. Desperate, she is reduced to nothing but her pursuit of forgotten euphoria. 

The fervent flames lick up her spine, darkness whispering in her mind. Yet she leans back, letting the noose devoid the oxygen to her heart and brain as her body falls lost into a delirium.

August feels her pussy tensing around his cock as the belt halts her airflow; through the heated waves of pleasure, an alarm blares. “Careful,” he rasps, reaching his fist to her throat to replace the belt and pulling her until her chest grinds into his own. “Don’t damage what’s mine!”

Her reply is a cracked wheeze, her body jolting as he fucks her into a punishing rhythm. Hot and burning, stoking inside her, balls thudding and battering her hole, the chant of their wet skin colliding in a violent dance accompanies the chaotic symphony of their moans. His angel latches onto him, wrapping tighter and tighter as her body accepts his offering of rage, sucking and milking him dry.

August pulls her face against his, fingers flexing around her jugular, lips grazing her own and then hovering to rob her of her feeble exhales. 

“You want to breathe?” he snarls.

Ingvild nods, feeling the storm of fire about to erupt inside her. Her canal gripping him so tightly she can feel every tendon and ridges of him grazing her walls. Tears well in her raincloud eyes, her heart shrinking as she feels him, all of him, consuming her with his existence.

“Then come for me, angel.” 

With his words, she arches back, letting the fire implode in her loins and sweep her into a rapture so intense her entire body shakes around him. All she can feel is August, filing her soul, seeping in deeper than her thoughts. 

Tears spring down her cheeks, emotions and pleasure whirl at her heart at once.

“August!”

Hearing his name on her lips spikes the savage spirits within. Reduced to a beast, he takes hold of her hips, flipping her over and riding between her thighs. His hands pin her down by the neck and he ravages her through her climax. He can feel the flinch of his cock, swelling larger inside her narrow space. The innocence of her essence devours him. All the hate and pain diminishes and for a brief moment, he is allowed into heaven, feeling nothing but bliss in his chest. His shouts of pleasure echo into the room, his body jerking into her as the hot, white ribbons of his thick seed sprout into her womb.

Falling down to earth is always the hardest part.

Taking a hard swallow, he leans his sweaty forehead against hers, rolling it slowly and listening to the silent hisses from her mouth. Still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he pulls himself to his elbows fighting the spasm in his muscles and their will to collapse. His brow suddenly crumples at her sight: her eyes shine with a wide spectrum of emotions that glisten sadly down her temples. Shivering sobs escape from quivering lips, trying to find words that never make it to her tongue. 

August observes her carefully, removing his grip from her neck gingerly and reaching out a thumb to dry her tears. The crystals in her eyes were broken to dozens of many pieces that reflected the light back in various shades. A look of a lost child that carries an oddly familiar sensation, something that makes him cold and warm, as if Ingvild is inside his blood and he is inside hers. 

They had killed each other after all and then brought one another’s hearts to beat again. In his twisted mind, it made for a more profound intimacy than sex.

“Easy, babygirl.” he speaks unusually compassionate, dipping a finger in the wetness beneath her eyes and then slips it into his mouth, tasting the salt onto his tongue. “That was intense for you, wasn’t it?”

She nods silently, the emotional release tingling through her aortae, making her skin prickle with goosebumps. She never felt like this: whole, vulnerable, and belonging. She never felt anything at all, all her life. Her body tries to control the jitters in her muscles yet her body seems suddenly inexplicably cold.   

“Sh... it’s okay,” August whispers, capturing her lips into a chaste comforting kiss. “I’ve got you.” he murmurs and allows his lips to trail lower, pressing soft butterfly kisses over every patch of skin and bone, descending through the plains of her naked flesh, tasting the mixture of their sweat. His fingers find the large crescent scar in her lower abdomen, tracing the withering stitches in a sick memory of their first night together.

He feels no remorse. Had he changed his action, she wouldn’t have been his right now.  

Ingvild finally manages to release a sound, moaning with exhaustion as she eases into his care, her lungs and heart catching up when her body begins to float. With whatever strength left in him, August holds her the way a groom holds his bride, and carries her in his firm arms. 

~*~

The bath is filled hot near to the brim. Mountains of foam edge onto the water, looking like fluffy little clouds. This bathroom is not as nearly as luxurious as the one he had in Bergen. It’s painfully plain, like something out of an 80’s film, yet right now it looks like the most outrageous, spoiling delight. 

Sitting on the stone, his hand whirls the water, testing the heat before stepping in.   

“Come here,” he beckons, reaching toward Ingvild to join him as he sits down, releasing a deep sigh of relief as the hot water soothes the pain. The bath is hardly big enough for a man of his size, his knees buck up, peeking above the water. 

Ingvild takes his hand, stepping to sit at the spot between his thighs, making sure not to wet the bandages on her wrists. August’s arms guide her to melt back against his broad chest carefully, avoiding friction with the gunshot wound that begins to ache more and more as the last of the endorphins dwindle. He breaks into a small groan and lands his chin atop her head while glaring into the water with rising concern.  

“They will come for us.” Ingvild finally manages to find words, her voice still husky as her jugular strains. “Once they know you’re not dead, they’ll hunt us. We need to move, fast.”

August weighs her words. He muses over the sacrifice she made, and for whom? The man who stabbed her and nearly left her to float in a frozen lake? ‘She chose, you didn’t force her.’

 Indeed, it was her free will that brought her to him.  

“We should,” he answers, rinsing some water onto her torso and rubbing her forearms clean. “Just relax now, you won’t do me good all broken.”

“You care about me,” she teases, a small smile creeping on her lips.

“We will make for my safe house from here, and then we can take the train to Manchester,” he answers, ignoring her comment.

Ingvild catches some foam in her palm, squeezing the dissolving material between her fingers lightly and then blows it with the weak airflow that comes from her lungs. Little specks of bubbles fly into the bath. August watches them with her silently.    

“For the plutonium,” she utters.

“Yes.”

Tilting his head slightly, he looks down to see if there is any disgust or fear shadowing her face, yet finds none. The girl continues forming little abstract shapes in the dwindling white hills, twirling her fingernails on the tiny bubbles. The edge of her spine peeks between the thick strands of her hair, while hues of purple, nearly black, hug her nape. The girl is forbearing, enduring as she was taught; he wonders if it’s to please him, or if it pleases her as well.

Cupping water in his hands, he begins to wash her skin, pouring onto the back of her neck and her shoulders. He brushes his fingers through the brown waves of her hair while she leans her head back and closes her eyes.

It’s as if years of tension peel off from her, uncovering truths she fought to hide. August was right, and so was Liam; no one ever loved her. But now in the arms of a monster, she suddenly senses what she imagines would be care and affection. His touch is no longer clinical and it feels as if vines are growing onto her limbs, twirling around her and pulling her to become one with him. 

In her mind, she can’t help but start picking into the not-so-distant past, recalling being his hostage and the conversations they had when they still hated one another. The anguish that resonates in his eyes didn’t speak of hatred individually toward the world, the specks of brown held a fair amount toward himself as well.

“What did Sloane do?” she asks curiously. “In Bergen, you mentioned she did something to you.” 

She feels August’s sudden halt, his long digits entangled in her hair, pulling slightly while his chest sinks inward. His inhale takes into a heavy suction and his nostrils flare. He didn’t think of Lacey since he woke in Ingvild’s arms. 

“She tricked me.” his eyes focus onto nothing and his fingers resume their course through Ingvild’s wet strands. He becomes slightly agitated, unlacing the small knots that formed at the edge with force. “She suspected me and never liked me- for a reason, of course. She knew someone was distributing secrets and weapons beneath her nose, so she sent a spy. In my case, it was my partner.”

“A woman,” Ingvild continues, the realization hitting her softly. “Lacey.”

Her name on Ingvild’s tongue sends a shiver creeping from the base of his spine. 

“Yes,” he answers dryly and clenches his jaw. “We were partners for months. She got close. She... was loyal, she understood me or so I thought, but then I found out, she wasn’t.”

Ingvild hears the shift in his tone again, in their reflection on the water she sees him staring forward with grim shades painting his eyes. The corners of his lips tugged down as he broods.

“It sounds like you loved her.”

August remains silent, giving no answer. It resonates in her right away - betrayal burnt hotter than the wound itself. In their carnal twist, August burned her, but it wasn’t her carnal devotion he sought for. 

“Where is she now?” 

“Dead.” he answers, releasing a deep sigh of silent rage, not even bothering to shy from the truth this time. Ingvild was bred into a world of monsters; she breathed them, she killed them and he was just another beast for her to slay. Yet she chose to stroke her hand on his snout regardless of what she knew.

“I killed her.” 

In his mind Lacey walks away, her blue heels tapping on the floor, echoing before she gives him one last glance. She turns away, her golden curls dulled by the lack of light as she vanishes into a mist of smoke and shadow. 

Ingvild feels a slight relief at the thought of Lacey being dead, for some reason she can’t explain to herself.  August returns his gaze to her again, removing his hands from her hair. His hand wraps around her jaw, pressing her head to look into his piercing glare. He looks for fear but finds none.

“Try to rest,” he commands and then wraps his arms around her possessively. “Long days are ahead.”  

“Will you read me your manifesto?”

August looks down on her face once more, wondering for a moment if this is another hallucination. A terrible thought crosses his mind and his heart flinches; what if in these moments he’s actually bleeding to his death in the pit, his mind playing tricks as he breathes his last breath?

But the softness and warmth of her body feels more vivid than ever. Stronger than the doubt that creeps into his mind. 

“There has never been peace without first a great suffering. The greater the suffering, the greater the peace. As mankind is drawn to his self-destruction like a moth to the candle...” he chants, accompanied by Ingvild who also recites his words in her gentle voice. 

_________________________________________________

disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible and August Walker

[lov3nerdstuff]

Someone to you

*Loki x reader*

Part: Oneshot

Words: 5.6k

Warnings: little language, some gloomy thoughts

Summary: Loki knew that feeling deep within him, and he tried to suffocate the first kindling before it would become a raging fire, burning up his very being to the essence yet again. What Loki felt indeed, was hope. A stupid and desperate hope that maybe just this once he could actually be somebody to someone, something more than just the villain, the lesser brother, the monster… that he could be someone, to you.

A story written in Loki's perspective about how he learned that even he deserves kindness and love. Your love.

Original Request: Hi! Do you make song based requests? If you do I'd love a oneshot of Loki x Reader based on the song Someone to you by Banners. Thank you if you can ♡ -> by @hunter-with-a-tardis

A.N.: Okay folks, this has gotten a little dark, but I promise it has a fluffy ending indeed! It doesn't really fit the song based on the melody, but I focused on the lyrics! 💚✨ Enjoy!

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For the longest time, Loki had felt lost in this world. In every world. Lost and alone, broken, abused and shattered in so many ways that he'd given up any attempt to hold grudges against individuals, and at one point simply started to feel hate for everyone and everything. Yet he knew very well that hate wasn't the right word for what he felt, but it was easier to title it hate and delve into that feeling than admit, even to himself, what it really was indeed that was keeping him up at night and made him burst with a raging, dark energy at daytime.

To Loki, self-awareness was his ultimate doom, his one true mean to selfdestruction. He knew what he felt, he knew what had caused it and what it meant and yet… he couldn't change a single thing about it. Sometimes he wished he was as oblivious in his emotions as the midgardians he spent his time with, but that just wasn't how his mind worked. No, his mind picked up every pebble and inspected it to the depth of a single atom, twice.

And he'd lived in this illusion of universal hate for so long that it had become his reality, a shallow one, but it was still enough to dictate his behavior and sometimes, if he wasn't careful, also his thoughts. He felt himself slipping into living within yet another lie, one brilliant enough, carefully enough woven to suffice. It was his own, after all. As long as no one would be able to see through his facade, there was nothing, no one, worth dropping it for in return.

So Loki found himself living among his brother's friends, the people who despised him without ever having bothered to get to know him. But really… him trying to take over their planet all those years ago, to them, must've seemed like a good enough getting-to-know each other.

Loki didn't really bother to tell them the truth, for things were easy enough while they hated him and believed he hated them in return. And honestly, by now, he kind of did sincerely hate them. He hadn't in the beginning, but their coldness and constant rejection had forced Loki to withdraw further and further into his own mind. A very dangerous place to dwell in indeed and yet the only place he felt truly safe (at times).

The days passed away like leaves in autumn, withering and tumbling down into the abyss of indifference. And autumn it was indeed when something happened that made Loki's carefully constructed reality come crashing down on him like a building's collapse. It was the day he met you.

Honestly, it had been a day exactly like every other. He'd picked a book from the library, then sat down in the floor length window in the living room and ignored everyone and everything around him as he escaped into the world between the pages, right into the rough paper resting against his fingertips.

That was until Stark, that tin of a fool, came sauntering into the room and inevitably drew everyone's attention towards himself. Why exactly Loki chose this one instance to actually listen to the man of iron was beyond him, but he put his book down in his lap and looked over to the two figures standing in the middle of the room.

"Alright everyone, this is Y/n." Tony announced loudly, clapping you on the shoulder. Loki's eyes met yours and you… smiled.

He frowned immediately, deeply irritated, and looked back to the book in his lap. His ears however didn't once leave the announcement of your presence.

"She is… well, why don't you explain it yourself?" Stark asked and took a step to the side, giving you room to introduce yourself.

"Well, hi everyone. I'm Y/n, like Tony said already…" Your voice was soft, like liquid silk that ran straight from Loki's ears to his mind, wrapping around his senses in a way he couldn't really prevent. "Before anyone starts guessing, I'm not an Avenger, or even remotely trained in combat or the sorts. I'm…"

"...going to live here, for a while." Tony finished the sentence before you could, making Loki frown to himself once again. "She's going to be living with us. So please treat her nicely, and look out for her a little. No funny business. I'm looking at you, Reindeer Games…"

Loki ignored the comment, just like he always did, but he felt your eyes on himself like a scorching heat burning his entire left side.

"Alright, I gotta go, but everyone please introduce yourselves now and the sorts… And Cap, will you show her to her room later? The guest bedroom on the third floor will do." Tony ordered quickly, then addressed you once more. "Y/n, dear… I know for a fact that you'll be fine with those guys here, but you better stay away from the odd one over there."

Loki just knew immediately that Stark had meant him, causing him to roll his eyes to himself. Obviously he wouldn't at least this once be given the chance to start off on the right foot with someone. No, they were all rushed into prejudice before he even got any chance to make things right. At least this once.

And oddly enough, Loki wanted to make things right with you. Maybe only because you were new indeed, a blank piece of paper for him, but then again… you had smiled at him. Just for a very short moment, and without any intention to mock him. Just a sincere, innocent smile. Maybe you simply didn't know who he was and what he'd done? And yet… he couldn't forget about that one smile, even if he tried.

For the next minutes Loki quietly observed how everyone currently present introduced themselves to you, his eyes following you through the room as you moved from Natasha to Thor to Wanda… Smiling at everyone and exchanging meaningless smalltalk. Gosh, how Loki hated smalltalk, or anything that was meaningless really. They asked you about all the most ridiculous things, while Loki himself would have wasted no time to ask the really important things. For example, why Stark had interrupted you in your attempt to explain who you are or where you are from. What had brought you here despite being of no obvious use to the stupid little team? Questions upon questions that he could've asked, but he didn't, for the solemn reason that this was not the right place nor time. He looked back at his book, trying to read the words that threatened to escape his mind the second they entered it. Hell, why wouldn't his damn mind just leave you and the stupid idea that at least one person in this freaking building might actually grow not to hate him alone for good? He couldn't focus, and his ears picked up every word of your conversations with the others. It really wasn't even interesting, but something within him seemed to cling onto you so desperately that he grew more and more angry with himself by the minute.

He didn't even know you, for heaven's sake, then why did it feel like your appearance was the single ray of light breaking through the cold sky, filled with heavy clouds of dark? A single ray of light, keeping him from fading, from disappearing from reality altogether. A ray of light drawing him in like a moth to the flame. Like Icarus and the sun.

To be honest, Loki knew why. He knew that feeling deep within him, and he tried to suffocate the first kindling before it would become a raging fire, burning up his very being to the essence yet again. It was exactly this feeling that he'd tried to drown out with the cold hate all along. Why he'd tried to push reality as far away as possible, for he knew what would become of him. He couldn't help it, couldn't extinct the tiny flame that had so suddenly flickered to life upon your one damn smile. What Loki felt indeed, was hope.

A stupid and desperate hope that maybe just this once he could actually be somebody to someone, something more than just the villain, the lesser brother, the monster… that he could be someone, to you. But he didn't want this hope, for hope was a one way road to disappointment and pain.

And until this very day, Loki had done a great job to extinguish every bit of hope from his very being and drown it in hatred and mockery.

"Hey…" Your voice, very close suddenly, made him snap out of his mind and back to reality, only to find you standing right next to him, towering above his sitting form. He didn't dare looking up from his book.

"Since everyone else seems to avoid you as good as possible, I just wanted to say hi, at least."

"Didn't anyone tell you to stay as far away from me as possible?" Loki asked defensively and without his eyes parting from the page he'd tried reading for the last thirty minutes.

"Oh, they most certainly did. All of them, actually." You replied calmly, not at all bothered by his admittedly hostile attitude. Geez, Loki didn't know for himself why he was behaving so hostile towards you when all he really wanted was to make you like him. Maybe it's just who he was now, the cruel empty shell of a broken man.

"And why didn't you listen to them?" He asked, inhaling a little more audibly than he would've liked.

"Because the things they said didn't make sense… that you're dangerous, insane, cruel… not worth my time and effort." You mused, shrugging, and there was a tone to your voice that made Loki's heart pick up speed.

"You are not making sense, mortal." He snapped, cringing inwardly at his own behavior as his mind begged him to stop this ridiculous hostility.

"I'm…" You stopped for a moment and Loki almost believed he had finally broken you, finally made you see how horrible of a person he really was. Yet, you continued in a tone as calm as ever. "Would you be so kind and show me to my new bedroom?"

"Why would I? So that your new friends can mock me and have a decent excuse to end me for coming too close to their newest plaything?" He snorted sarcastically, closing his book with a loud pang and rising to his feet in his usual graceful manner, finally towering over you as he knew he was standing too close to you for his own good. But if being mean didn't work to scare you away, maybe intimidation would.

"Why would I do such a thing indeed, mortal?" He asked again, his voice dropping down to a dangerous and quiet low that spoke of nothing but disgust. It couldn't have been further from the truth, he felt drawn to you beyond measure.

"Because I would like you to know where you can find me when you need a break from torturing yourself like this." You replied calmly, yet so quietly that only Loki could hear, looking right into his eyes and he felt his blood freeze over for a moment. He stared right back at you in a maddening mixture of shock and awe, unsure if his physical presence continued to exist once his mind swallowed him into the depth of abysmal nothing.

"Loki!" Thor's thundering voice however ripped Loki from those depths, as he was forced a few steps away from you. Loki let Thor pull him away without a shred of resistance, eyes still irreversibly fixed on yours as he only heard the echo of his own heartbeat hollowly drumming in his ears.

How could this creature that was you have such an enormous effect on him? Mess with his mind even, trick the trickster indeed.

"Y/n, did he… hurt you, or try to?" Steve asked then, and his words reached Loki's ears, but not his mind.

"Why would he?" You replied calmly, turning to the soldier with a friendly smile. "We were just talking."

"Looked more like he wanted to murder you in the most gruesome ways…" Bruce commented carefully, giving Loki a suspicious look.

"Maybe, who knows…" You shrugged at them, smiling, as you turned back to Loki. The look on your face told him that you knew indeed. You knew that he wouldn't ever hurt you, nor anyone else if it could be prevented.

When Loki forcefully jerked his arm out of Thor's grip and made for the door with quick and long steps, all he was really asking himself was just WHY you knew.

_______________

For the next few days Loki stayed out of your way. Whenever you would enter the room, he would turn to leave in return and thereby cause his heart to clench in the most painful ways. And every single time he asked himself why exactly he was doing all that… all the pretense, all the hostility and all the false hatred. You'd not once given him any reason to dislike you, you always said hi to him (being the only one who even acknowledged his presence most of the time) and tried to talk to him a few times even. But there had always been someone in the room with you, someone's watchful eyes on him as you spoke and that always had resulted in him pulling back from you, more and more until he didn't talk to you at all anymore.

And for once, he experienced what real hatred felt like, in the hatred he found for himself and his behavior towards you. It wasn't your fault after all that he fought a war within himself that he was very close to losing on either end. Fighting off the darkness was routine, really, and he'd grown used to that constant fight long ago. Yet, now that he was fighting off the hope on the other end, he was at risk of losing on both sides. If he only could stop this nonsensical behavior at once, and maybe give you a tiny shard of his real self, maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn anymore. He wanted to be closer to you, to get to know you… who you are, why you were here, why you seemed to be able to see right through him and still didn't try to save him from his misery. Because, if he was honest with himself, he was desperately hoping that you would save him indeed. That you would lead him through his own darkness and guide him to a better place. And he was hoping that he could be someone better for you, since he failed to be better just for himself. And that, exactly that was what scared him. He didn't want to use you as a path to the light, he wanted you to be the light, for him.

This war within him continued on for weeks, but he had let go of the hostility immediately after one evening's events. He'd been somewhat sarcastic and mean as usual, ignored everyone at dinner really, until one thing he had said in particular had made your face fall and for the first time, Loki had seen sincere sadness and hurt in your eyes. He'd gotten up and left immediately, silently promising to make sure that he would NEVER be the cause of those emotions again. After that day, things had been different for him. He'd still stay away from you, but he never once had said a single hostile word to you again. He had been just the same old to everyone else of course, but with you… he'd become reluctant, almost. The hope within his mind had grown into a flame almost painful in its fury, urging him to give in. Ironically, the one thing that worked best against the hope was reality for now. He'd spent a few weeks locked up in his room to sort through his own messed up emotions, then spent a few more being mean to you, then a few more being basically a mere shadow on the wall. Always there, always listening but never noticed until someone needed something to be scared of.

He couldn't sleep at night. His mind would torture him with countless possibilities for how things could become even worse from where he was, while his logic would try to draw up a plan on how to make things right. He absolutely hated that with the hope, also the deeply rooted desire to be loved had resurfaced and clung onto the hope in return, making him ache for your attention and your approval. Such a horrendous desire, really… he'd spent centuries getting rid of it. And now it was suddenly back, hitting him like a hulk smash.

Unable to even remotely find rest, he got out of bed and left his room to head to the living room where he'd left his current read in the afternoon. It was three am in the morning, he didn't even bother to change into something other than his tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt for he was certain that he wouldn't run into anyone anyway. The sound of his naked feet on the cold stone floor reminded him just how much of a prison this place really was. An big and empty one, but a prison nonetheless.

When he walked around one final corner before entering the living room, he immediately spotted your small frame, dark contrasting against the giant window. Maybe you'd heard him approaching, but he didn't know for sure and he wanted to leave it at that. So he kept standing on the other side of the room, observing you as you observed the millions of bright stars in the night sky. That maybe was the only good thing about the avengers base being out here… one could see a million of stars every night, if only the clouds allowed it.

For the longest time Loki observed you in silence, his heart beating strongly against his ribcage in an almost painful manner. Until finally he gave in, unable to resist the raging hope any longer. With a second of careful thought and a few rays of soft green light, he recreated the entire night sky in the living room, surrounding you in a bright bunch of a million stars. The small gasp that escaped your lips brought a smile to his face, a moment before he turned to leave, not without granting himself two seconds of admiring your beautifully overwhelmed expression.

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to you when he returned to his room with quick steps, his book long forgotten. No, he would've loved to talk to you, but he simply did not know what to say after all this time of severely screwing things up with you.

You'd been nothing but nice to him from the very first moment and he'd been nothing but poison to your lovely being. A fool, scared and lashing out in fear of getting hurt. Ironic, really, considering that he'd been well aware of this the entire time, yet again unable to change his own behavior. And now that he'd finally gotten over himself, he was more than sure that he'd already managed to drive you so far away from himself that it was past any point of return.

So he just lay on his bed, on top of the neatly folded green covers, and stared at the ceiling in the dark. Until a few minutes later there was a faint knock on his door.

He knew that it must be you, nobody else would ever knock on his door and nobody else would be awake at this time, but him. He had the door swing open gently without as much as moving a finger.

"May I come in?" You asked quietly, standing in the door frame as your eyes inspected his room quickly, yet intently. He almost smiled at your curiosity, the urge to study your surroundings… it's something he found himself inclined to do as well.

This was his last chance, and he was done pretending, done trying to keep you at a distance.

"Yes." Was all he could really say, in as much calm as he could manage. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling as he heard your soft footsteps approaching him slowly. Would you hear his frantic heartbeat in the insufferable silence of the room?

Then he felt the bed dip ever so slightly as you moved to lay down next to him, at a safe distance, but he could feel the heat of your body on his side nonetheless. It felt nice.

"Would you do it again? For me?" You asked calmly, yet again in a quiet voice as you stared up at the ceiling as well. With the smallest of smiles Loki brought the stars back from the sky into his room, filling the entire space with a soft light in form of a million little sprinkles. You let out a soft sigh, and Loki's smile widened. Maybe you didn't completely hate him after all.

"This is really beautiful, you know…" You said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "Have you seen the entire universe?"

"Not only this one… there's more, so much more." Loki replied easily, and he felt more at ease than he had in as long he cared to remember.

"Amazing... I can't imagine what it must be like to see all those incredible places!" You sighed.

"Would you like to see some of it?" He asked before he could stop himself, his voice laced with the hope he didn't care to repress anymore.

Now, finally, he felt confident enough to turn his head to look at you, finding you looking at him already with a soft smile. And just like the first day you had met, Loki felt your eyes forcing their way into his soul, touching it with a gentle caress and leaving imprints wherever they went. What surprised him most however was that he let you in, without timidity.

"I'd love to. See some of it, I mean…" You smiled at him with that heart-warming, all-consuming smile of yours and Loki couldn't help but stare. Here you were, merely two feet away, lying on his bed and smiling at him as if he wasn't… this. Wasn't himself. He wanted to ask you about your reasons, but he didn't know how. For once in his life, his eloquence was lost on him. And thus he did what he knew he could do best, turning his head back towards the ceiling and moving the stars around the two of you, going from planet to planet while both showing and explaining to you which secrets each place held in its depth and uniqueness.

You listened intently to him, nodding, giving soft noises of approval or occasionally asking questions about the things he said. Loki found himself relaxing in the conversation, smiling more frequently and looking at you from time to time, observing your beautiful features while you admired the imagines of distant places he conjured up just for you. And sooner than he would've liked, Loki found himself wishing that he could show you the universe for real.

Time flew by like the stars you passed on your magical journey, and soon night turned into dawn. By morning, Loki had spent more time looking at you than looking at the stars, really, and he found the urge to be close to you growing into the insufferable, while you seemed completely enamored with his tales of distant places and times. He would've talked on forever if only to make you happy, to bring this light to your eyes and dwell in the comfort of your presence. But after the sun started to rise, you decided that you would have to leave to get at least some more rest. Obviously Loki didn't make an attempted to stop you, but wished you a good night (even if it was morning indeed).

During the following days, Loki was back to his usual self (with everyone but you, of course), placing some carefully worded threats and intricate insults into the conversations he was systematically excluded from. Only when nighttime rolled around, he would be in his room, waiting, until you would come to hear more stories, or to chat about all the most meaningful things, but not once about anything personal. He enjoyed this new ritual immensely, allowing himself to be raw, honest, true… during the day he may belong to his demons, but during the nighttime he belonged to you. And even though he would've loved to be more than just a storyteller, a means to passing time to you, he was still content to be something to you, at least. But with every night you spent lying next to him on his bed, listening and looking at him like he himself was the single most fascinating thing in the entirety of the universe, Loki found himself wishing for more.

You were truly lovely, the kindest and smartest person he'd ever met and he constantly asked himself why by the gods you were spending your precious time with him. Eventually, he figured, he would run out of stories to tell and you would stop your nightly visits, his own personal time spent in the light.

But he wouldn't let that happen, or rather he simply couldn't. If this one last time he allowed himself to hope, to try to be somebody to someone, turned out to leave him hurt again, he knew he would lose his fight against the darkness, and thus lose his final threat anchoring him to reality.

That is why tonight Loki decided that he would visit you for once, in your room. He'd never been there before, you had always come to see him in his own space. It was still a little while until you usually would be coming over when he made his way through the dark hallway, up the staircase and towards your door.

Just when he lifted his hand to knock, the door was opened in an instant and you almost ran into him as you moved out of the room. Loki's eyes widened as he looked down at you in surprise, but a moment later he couldn't resist peaking into the room behind you (he was, after all, of an impeccably curious nature).

"Hey Loki..." You looked up at him in that adorably flustered expression. "I was just going to come see you, actually."

"Hello Y/n…" He replied calmly, giving you a small smile. "I… I wanted to visit YOU, for once."

"Oh…" You smiled to yourself, looking down to your bare feet for a second. "Well, do come in then!"

You moved out of the way, backing into your room and Loki followed with careful steps behind you, looking around himself. Your room way probably double the size of his own, with an open window front and the lovelies furniture. And it was only a guest bedroom, after all.

"What made you come here tonight?" You asked, studying his face intently as you leaned your head slightly to the side.

Loki took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second, fighting off his pride. Why was it so hard to just tell you how he felt?! Maybe because all he'd really done for the past few decades was keeping his feelings to himself, if he admitted to having them in the first place. He just wasn't any good at being honest in a nice way anymore. Is that something one could unlearn?

"I'm here because… because you told me to find you here when I needed a break from torturing myself." He finally said in a faintly shaky voice, jaw clenching as he looked at you with everything he didn't know how to say.

"Sit down." You ordered gently and Loki did as he was told, eyes not once leaving yours as he sat down on the edge of your bed in silence. He would do absolutely anything you asked of him and he didn't feel the slightest bit ashamed of it.

"May I try something that might make you feel better?" You asked quietly and with the slightest hint of insecurity, and Loki only managed a nod in return. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His eyes widened ever so slightly when you moved towards him, closer and closer, and he could feel his body tensing involuntarily. The closest he had gotten to people in a long while was the distance it took to stab them.

So when you very carefully sat down in his lap and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you in the most innocent hug, Loki was lost. For a moment he forgot how to breathe, before a second later he wrapped his arms around you very gently at first, then tighter and tighter until you were pressed against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, dwelling in the overwhelming sensation of being so very close to you. Of you allowing him to be so close.

"Why?" He finally managed to ask, not once letting go of you. He might quite possibly never let go of you again, if it that would've been for him to decide.

"Because I like you, Loki." You smiled, playing with the tips of his hair on his back, making him let out an unintentional sigh. "I have from the very first day."

"Why?" He asked again, almost pleading in his tone as he desperately tried to understand.

"Why not? You are absolutely amazing… intelligent, funny, kind…"

"Don't mock me, Y/n…" He breathed, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your shirt. "Even if you might not have known who I was when we met, I'm sure I have given you enough reason by now to believe that I am not a kind person."

"I knew exactly who you are when we met." You replied calmly, resting your head against the crook of his neck, which made Loki's heart flutter almost painfully.

"Then why did you smile at me? If you knew what I was all along… Why did you have to do that to me?"

"Because you deserve kindness, Loki, maybe more than anyone else." You whispered, tightening your grip on him.

"I don't." He replied in the same quiet voice, relishing the feeling of your arms around him, your warmth a comforting blanket and your scent as addicting as anything could be.

"You do. And you are kind indeed, despite your suffering."

"I don't suffer…" He gave back in a tone that didn't even convince himself of his statement.

"I see it in your eyes, you know… in your behavior. In the way you carry yourself. You have suffered more in your lifetime than anyone should even dare to think of." Your voice was so calming that Loki found himself relaxing more and more, deep breaths making his chest rise and fall in unison with yours.

"You deserve better than this, Y/n… I wanted to be someone to you so badly all along, and what did I do? I pushed you away for weeks and proved with every word that I am more monster than man by now." The words came freely from his mind to his lips at last, lifting some of the weight off his heart as he spoke.

"A monster doesn't hope, Loki… A monster doesn't try to be better for someone. A monster doesn't spend nights lying next to me, making the starlight circle the room while explain the mysteries of the universe to me." You lifted your head and pulled back only far enough to be able to look at him in the eye. "I see you, Loki... All of you. The past, the present and the future and I will have all of it."

"You can't possibly see the past, nor the future…" He breathed, staring at you in awe as it slowly dawned on him.

"I can see a great deal of things." You smiled kindly, moving your hands from his shoulders to his neck. "Time is but a mere comma in the story of eternity, really."

"Who are you?" His eyes were fixed on yours, inches away only as he realized that quite possibly the greatest mystery of the entire universe was sitting right in his lap.

"Yours, if you will have me." You replied with an almost flustered smile. "I want to be someone to you too."

"You are. And you were, all along." He returned the smile, honest and hopeful and adoring, watching your expression for a while before he dared to speak up again, in the new found courage of acceptance, maybe even love, that he had been missing over a thousand years. "Y/n… may I be yours?"

"You are. And you were all along."

Without wasting any more commas in the story of eternity, you leaned down, closing the final inches between Loki's lips and your own.

"I may be my rawest self for you to see, but I'm still going to be a nuisance for absolutely everyone else." Loki finally smiled against the soft skin of your neck, placing feathery kisses along your jawline a good while later.

"I expected absolutely nothing less." You replied with the very same smirk. "And I'm very much looking forward to all the mischief yet to come."

_____________________________

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If anyone would like to be added to my general tag list, feel free to tell me in the comments 😊💚💚✨✨ I hope you guys enjoyed this story and I tried really hard to do Loki justice, his perspective is really intriguing yet difficult to write ☺️ tell me what you think!

[malereader-inserts]

Andante, Andante | Ch.I

“I’ll make you a deal,” Peter says, you tilted your head as he continues, “If I can make you fall in love with me by the end of the summer, then you don’t move countries.”

Word Count:  1,638

A/n: I forgot how hard it is when to start a story because I have the urge to start with, “Hi, my name is Peter Parker and I am eighteen years old...”  Also, Why hasn’t Tumblr made a setting to put text in the centre? Feedback will be appreciated!

Next> 

New York City. 

It is a place you only know your life to be in. A place that you and some of the Avengers have ever know, you weren’t like Tony Stark who could hop on a jet and fly wherever his heart desired. You were just average, a man of eighteen who was struck by lightning and now is on the Avengers team.

And you can’t complain, you were welcomed to the team as if you were just adopted. They were welcoming, you had each other’s back. 

But, there was just something that was nagging in the back of your head, you had to get out of the Big Apple. New York was great, but you didn’t want to be confined to the superhero life, no matter how selfish that sounds. There’s more to life than to risk it.

That’s why Peter Parker just fails to understand, sure, he’s heard it too much that with great power comes great responsibility, but who doesn’t want that serotonin feeling when you did a good deed? He just doesn't get it, you wanting to fly and travel the world, he even freaked out when he heard you apply to University at Cambridge in England, not Cambridge Boston at M.I.T. 

“But, it’s New York, (L/n)!” Peter exclaims as you scoffed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“So what?” You feigned annoyance, “If I recall, Parker, you’re going to M.I.T! That’s not exactly in New York.”

“O-okay!” Peter stutters as he throws his arms in the air, “That’s beside the point!” 

You scoffed, shaking your head, “I don’t know why you’re so angered by this, it’s not like you care about me.”

This was a fact that you were wrong about, god, if you only knew. Peter Parker was head over heels for you, that’s a fact, there are a few reasons to why he’s hasn’t acted upon it. 

You’re grumpy as hell, not the most approachable person on the team

You’re closed off, there’s not much you allow a person to know about you.

You’re so god damn pretty that Peter believes you are the sun, vibrant, and everyone knows the story of Icarus.

He wouldn’t consider each other as friends, more than strangers but less than friends.

So, Peter has resorted to staring at you, he tries not to be a creep about it. But, he can’t help to linger on your drawl of certain words. He can’t help but stare a second longer and he’s unable to stop the stomach acid from rising from his stomach to his throat. In conclusion, Peter is in love with you, as many would say, and he was pretty good at hiding it away since he’s always in Stark’s lab, out of sight. 

You don’t know much about Stark’s kid, Peter. Other than you like how Parker sounded when you say it, that Peter is a hyperactive puppy who you can’t help but just adore, though feelings come hard to you and to express, and that Peter Parker was a ball of sunshine, that if you were to stare at him for too long you would go blind. Not that you would stare at him, in fact, you barely register his existence. You like knowing about him, he’s a Queen’s boy, smart like Stark, and absolute dork whilst he knows the bare minimum of you.

Keeps you safe.

Whatever helps you sleep at night, you know?

You were questioning yourself, why did Peter care so much about you leaving? No one in the team would tell you, as if they were sworn to secrecy, either that or they know something that isn’t for them to tell you. As soon as the summer break started, you noticed how Peter was becoming all close to you, wanting to know more of you.

You brushed him off as best as you could, glaring him away or giving him no attention. But, he was persistent, you admit, there was some underlying determination in whatever challenge he had set himself. So, just this once, as you sat by the pond, your feet hanging off the wooden decking, just barely over the water.

“I wondered how long it would take you to find me,” You says, looking over your shoulder to see Peter carrying lunch for the pair of you, “Why are you so determined in getting to know me?”

“Well, you’re part of the team and I feel like everyone is supposed to know everyone,” Peter says, timidly placing the tray of plates of lunch in between you and him, “Steve cooked, says it’s your favourite.”

Bastard, you thought, Steve and Natasha were really the only ones you were closed to and they promised to give anything away about you even the smallest of things such as favourite food, favourite colour, etc…

“Well, thanks…” You answered, hoping that Peter would just leave you alone but you had noticed he placed his platter of lunch on his lap.

“Also, you seem like you needed a friend.”

If you could be any meme, you would be that open mouth Pikachu meme as you wondered why you entertained Peter’s curiosity with you. Steve tells you to play nice, Nat says Peter is a wonderful boy. They both expressed that you needed more friends.

“You’re setting off on the right foot,” You say, sarcastically as you shove some food into your mouth, “Do you have many friends?”

“Okay-” Peter looked embarrassed, as you waited for his answer, “That sounded so rude, didn’t it?”

“Trust me, Parker, you aren’t the first to tell me that.”

“Oh,” Peter says, trying to lighten up the mood, “Idiot then?”

“It was Steve and Nat,” You informed him, there was a tinge of amusement when you see Peter stop chewing, alarmed, “But, idiots? More like, functional morons at best.”

Peter’s eyes widen, “You have a sense of humour!”

You almost choked on your own spit as you were lost for words, looking at the boy, with a mouth gaping open at him. You become a stuttering mess as you just couldn’t comprehend what this boy was on.

“I am a human being, Parker!” You exclaimed, “You’ve just given me lunch!”

Peter shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know, man, you could have easily convinced me that you’re an Andriod, you know from that video game…”

You watched him slowly go off on a tangent, you tilted your head as you knitted your eyebrows together. 

“Has anyone told you that you talk too much?” You asked, interrupting him as he flushed red, “Because you do.”

Peter gives you a goofy smile as you huffed out an amused breath, your lips curving upwards as you look away from him. Peter almost forgets how to breathe because you’re natural state was glaring at everything but this was the first time he had seen you smile.

And my god, Peter thought, he would do anything to see that glorious smile of yours. You fall into silence as you finish your plate, Peter quickly turning his attention away from you - hoping that he wasn’t caught staring as he quickly cleans the last of his food.

“So,” Peter clears his throat as you look at him with a raised eyebrow, “England.”

“Ah, so we’re back to this conversation…” You mused out, at first, Peter was irking you with this topic but you convinced yourself to have patience with him, he was simply curious.

“That’s a long way from home,” Peter continues, placing his plate onto of yours on the tray, “Why?”

“Why what?” You questioned.

“Why so far away?”

Your shoulders tense, you hate talking about yourself, before you resorted to shrugging, “A new beginning? There’s a whole world out there, Parker, why confine yourself to one place?”

“Well, I think it’s stupid,”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s not the only reason why I want to get away but thanks for your considering opinion that I did not ask for.”

Peter doesn’t miss the sarcasm in your voice as his cheeks turn red, now, you two were back to square one where you rather close yourself off. 

“Listen, we better get back in before Steve calls us in,” You continue as Peter was about to apologise.

You stood up, patting away the dirt from your legs as Peter slowly nods and gets up too. You both stood in front of each other, just staring at each other. 

Peter shifted his weight between the heels to his toes, looking at you awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him, his silence was unsettling, not once have you seen the hyperactive puppy just paused for a moment. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” Peter says, you tilted your head as he continues, “If I can make you fall in love with me by the end of the summer, then you don’t move countries.”

You straighten your back, “And if I don’t fall in love with you?”

“Then, you get to leave, leave the life you started here. Leave the people who consider you like family, I’m not going to stop you,” Peter licks his lips, his bitter tone goes unnoticed.

However, he stands proudly and for once he wasn’t just a teenager, he was a young man coming to a new stage of life. You lock your jaw and let out an unbelievable huff.

“So? Do we have a deal?” He lifts a hand out in between you two.

You stared at it before clasping it, giving him a firm handshake, “You got yourself a deal, Parker.”

He smiles at you, picking up the tray and dashing it back to the compound. You stayed by the wooden pier as you stare at the hand you shook with.

What have you got yourself into? 

Tagged: @locke-writes @yesthetrashbin  @blackirisposts @idwithoutthesuperego @screamingmuffinsunite @fifi550 @vydante @batfam16 @kpopchangedmylifesstuff @chaotictyler @delphicillusion

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[etherealwaifgoddess]

To Give Him The World, Chpt.4

Main Characters: Thor x Ellie (original female character)

Summary: Thor and Ellie take a shower together and Ellie tries to help him redirect his negative self talk. If you haven’t read the first three chapters you can catch up HERE!

Warnings/ Content: *Meryl Streep meme yell*  smuuuuuuut! Yep, it’s frisky shower fun time ya’ll :)

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready for this one? I certainly was. I don’t know about ya’ll but the idea of grabbing a shower with Thor and having free reign to wash and explore... *sighs*... yes please! I hope ya’ll enjoy this as much as I do! XOXO - Ash

To Give Him The World, Chapter Four

Ellie couldn’t hold back her excitement as Thor led her to the small bathroom. He pulled out a second set of towels for her and turned on the water, testing the temperate several times before stripping down. Ellie followed suit and pulled off Thor’s shirt and her panties. They stood a few feet apart like awkward teenagers until Ellie moved towards him, pulling Thor closer by his hips so she could lay her head on his chest. She loved the feel of his body against hers and she curled herself around him getting as close as humanly possible. 

Thor’s mind all but shut off at the feel of her silky skin against his and the brush of her hardened nipples against his belly. He wrapped his arms around her and let himself enjoy the peaceful moment. Ellie pulled back as fog from the hot water curled around them reminding her why they were there. She moved the curtain aside and stepped inside the tub under the hot spray of the shower head. Thor entered after her, getting a full view of Ellie leaning back to get her hair wet under the stream. His mouth went dry, a low stirring starting in his belly. She was so beautiful as the water cascaded down her lush body, rushing over her heavy breasts and down her curves. He wanted desperately to reach out and touch her but he clenched his hands apprehensively at his sides.

Ellie cleared her eyes and looked at Thor who was barely hanging on to his self control. “I guess it’s a little late, but do you mind sharing your shampoo and soap?” 

Pulling himself from his lust filled thoughts, Thor handed her the bottle of shampoo. It was generic and smelled of pine and spices. Ellie was thankful for anything and started lathering up her hair. One shampoo without her nice salon kind wouldn’t ruin her hair but it would make it a little more unruly. After she rinsed her hair clean Thor handed her a bar of soap. It was as generic and astringent as the shampoo but clean was clean and Ellie made quick work of washing herself. 

Thor was enraptured by her every move. The way she glided her soapy hands all over body and the subtle way she sighed under the hot relaxing water. Thor was plagued again with desire to reach out and Ellie was too attentive for his liking. “Want to wash my back for me?” She offered him the soap and he barely managed a yes as she turned around pulling her hair over one shoulder. Thor rubbed the soap between his large palms and took a steadying breath. Her body was so small compared to his and he took her shoulders in his hands gently. He rubbed small circles across her skin, the slickness of the soap letting his hands move with ease. Ellie let out a moan as he moved across the middle of her shoulder blades and Thor increased the pressure in response. 

As his hands slipped lower he wondered how far down she would permit him to go. Thor was already half hard against his thigh just from the sight of her and worried he was going to make Ellie uncomfortable when she saw. He felt like a teenager as he found himself unable to control his body’s response to her, especially with his hands on her. Lifetimes ago Thor had been a ladies man, proud of his virility and using his chiseled good looks and charm to woo women into his bed with great ease. He had been the golden prince of Asgard, a playboy warrior without a care in the world. Now he was older and too much had changed, more than just his appearance. 

Thor felt as unsure as a virgin as he lowered his soapy hands to the curve of Ellie’s bottom. She didn’t protest and Thor made a desperate decision to just enjoy what she was so freely offering. He let his hands knead her round cheeks, massaging them as he spread the soap around. Ellie let out another one of her soft moans, which were driving Thor mad, and leaned into him. Thor bent down, continuing his ministrations down her thighs. He was moving back up when she spun around suddenly and Thor couldn’t stop his hands in time. His hands slipped across her thighs as she spun, resting against the nest of soft curls between her legs once she faced him. Ellie gasped at the contact, she had turned thinking he was done and realized her mistake too late. Thor’s thick fingers brushing across her sex was enough to make her knees buckle but he clearly hadn’t meant to touch her that way. 

Thor’s cheeks were on fire, even the tips of his ears turned red. He moved his hands away quickly, holding them palms out as he stumbled through apologies. “I’m so sorry. Oh Norns, I didn’t mean to... I only meant to… Ellie I’m so sorry.”

Ellie gave him a smirk, “I know, I know. It was my fault, really. I wasn’t thinking when I turned like that. But if you wanted to touch me like that I wouldn’t object.” 

Thor’s cock twitched in response before he could say a word. Ellie saw it and her smirk widened. Thor’s voice was deep and rough when he spoke, “I would be honored if you would allow me to pleasure you.” Rational thought had left him and he was filled only with a raging desire to see Ellie coming undone under his hands. 

Ellie was stunned by his sudden forwardness. She mused that his desire must have finally won out against his insecurities and she was thankful for it. “I would enjoy that.” She told him. Ellie took a small step towards Thor so she could press herself up against him. She lifted up onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck and Thor leaned down to meet Ellie’s lips. With agonizing slowness Thor trailed one hand down to the juncture of her thighs, letting his fingers brush against her honey blonde curls. Thor cupped her sex in his wide palm, loving how perfectly she fit in his hand. He let one long finger slip down to tease her lips before parting them and running the digit along her folds. 

Ellie hung onto Thor not wanting to break the contact. It had been so long since she’d been touched by someone other than herself she had almost forgotten how incredible it could feel. She yearned to touch him as well but Thor was quite skilled at what he was doing and she didn’t trust herself to stay vertical if she let go of him. 

Thor was in Valhalla. He had plunged two thick fingers in her and her tight walls were gripping him deliciously while he rocked them inside her. The pad of his thumb flicked across her clit and he could feel it swelling beneath his strokes. Thor felt a sense of pride stirring as she moaned his name desperately. This he knew how to do. It might have been over a decade since his last time but he still knew how to pleasure a lover well. Thor’s cock was throbbing but he ignored it, refusing to acknowledge its presence until Ellie was sated. He loved how her body trembled as she came closer to the edge of her release and he pushed her harder, wanting to see her undone in his arms. 

Ellie couldn’t think straight as Thor pushed her ever closer to her peak. She was lost in pleasure and the feel of his body against hers. When she started trembling she knew she was close, her body acting of its own volition despite her efforts to hold still. Aching need coiled low in her belly, the tension building tighter the faster Thor’s hand moved. She was Icarus flying too close to the sun as he pushed her higher and higher towards her release. Finally the coil snapped and an orgasm ripped through Ellie’s body with blinding white light. The satisfaction Thor felt as she cried out her release was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He tried to memorize every detail; the way her head tilted back, eyes heavy lidded, lips slightly parted as she came for him. Ellie’s body shook hard against him and her arms pressed down on his shoulders like a vice, trying to keep herself standing. Thor wrapped his free arm around her side helping to support her while the orgasm wracked her body. He slowed his movements letting her come back down from the heights of her pleasure and waited a moment for her muscles to relax a little before withdrawing his hand. 

Ellie tried to regain her balance but wobbled slightly, still reeling. “Whoa.” Was all she could manage to say and she rested her head against him needing another moment to compose herself. 

Thor chuckled, intensely pleased with himself. “Whoa indeed.” He agreed, “You came apart so beautifully.” 

“You are really very good at that.” Ellie praised him as she regained her wits. 

“I’m glad you think so, I enjoyed it quite a bit myself.”

Ellie rubbed her hip against his hard length, “I can tell.”

Thor tensed at the friction. He wanted her desperately but needed to know that she wanted it too and didn’t just feel as if she had to. “Ellie please, hold on.” He held her by her waist, stilling her movements. “You don’t have to do anything unless you want to. I will be perfectly fine if we stop now.” Well, the last part wasn’t entirely true. He’d be in quite a bit of discomfort if they stopped but her feeling like she owed him was an even more painful option. 

Ellie was touched by his concern, “Oh darling, of course I want to. I want to worship this incredible body of yours and make you feel nothing but bliss. Like I said earlier, just let me take care of you a little.” 

 Thor nodded but couldn’t find the right words. Ellie took her time, not wanting to miss any opportunity to show him how she felt. She rubbed her hands down his chest and skimmed lightly over his sides, testing to see how comfortable he would be with her touching his belly. She wanted to so much but knowing it was a self conscious spot for him made her hesitant. A long, drawn out “ahhh” escaped his lips at her touch and she dared to draw her hands from cupping his soft pecs down his rounded stomach. Ellie watched as his cock jumped again from her movements and she couldn’t have been happier to have dodged a bullet there. 

Thor’s head was hanging forward, his eyes closed, as he tried to give himself over to the wonderful sensation of Ellie touching his body. Thoughts still bubbled up; worrying she was acting out of pity, feeling disgusted by himself, wondering when she would realize how pathetic he was. But as quickly as the thoughts came Ellie would move her hands somewhere else, eliciting a new sensation and the thought was replaced by the pleasure she brought him. As she moved her hands across his belly he shot a hand out against the wall to steady himself. The formerly ticklish area had become an erogenous zone on his body, one he often enjoyed himself when he took the time to get himself off, despite how much he hated the added pounds any other time. 

Ellie moved lower swiftly, gripping his well padded love handles in her hands. She loved the way his flesh yielded in her grasp and promised herself she would make it a point to enjoy them more later. Finally Ellie took Thor’s throbbing cock in her hand. It was intimidatingly long and thick and Ellie was amazed by how small her hand looked by comparison. She couldn’t quite get her fingers all the way around his shaft but she held it tightly the best she could. Thor involuntarily bucked against her hand and drips of precum leaked out of his glistening head. Ellie wondered if his dry spell had been as long, or longer, than hers had been. 

Thor struggled to control his breathing, his chest heaving as her small hand stroked him. He didn’t want to come instantly like an inexperienced boy, but it had been so many years and she was everything he could ask for in a partner. It took all of his control not to climax after the first few strokes. “I’m not going to last long.” He gasped in a desperate apology. 

“I don’t need you to. Let yourself go darling, enjoy this.” Ellie reassured him. She moved her other hand to cup his heavy balls, squeezing them lightly while she continued to stroke his shaft and Thor’s whole body shook in response. A few moments later he tensed and shot hot spurts across her hand and his lower belly. Thor thought his legs would fail as the orgasm consumed him but thankfully his knees locked in place supporting his weight. His breathing was ragged as his body stilled and he felt Ellie delicately washing away the stickiness that coated him.

Ellie was still in awe of Thor as she cleaned him. He was so powerfully built and the force of his orgasm was shocking. She couldn’t help but wonder what that would feel like if he was buried deep inside her. It was evident he was no normal Aesir, he was a god in every way, and Ellie was delighted he had turned his affections on her. She knew all other men would pale in comparison to him now, though the boring ones she had been with up until then hadn’t been worth the trouble anyway. It was like her body had been waiting for him. 

Ellie realized the water had cooled and she played with the dial to warm it back up. Thor’s mind finally cleared and he moved to hold her shoulders so she would look at him for a moment. “That was… transcendent.” He told her genuinely.

Ellie’s smiled wide, “I couldn’t agree more.” 

“I do wish I could have enjoyed it a little longer though.” Thor admitted as they changed positions for him to have a turn to wash himself. 

“We’ll go slower next time, promise.” 

“Mmm, next time. I like the sound of that. It has been a very long time.” 

“It’s been a long time for me too. I gave up on dating last year. It was futile anyway.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“Oh, believe it. I tried, I really did, but it was like no one cared to get to know me. It was all about them and how I could mold myself into their lives. I wanted a connection with someone, a real connection. After an endless string of failures I gave up last winter. What about you?” 

“A bit longer for me. I haven’t had much down time since my father first banished me to Midgard. I was only with Jane briefly there in the beginning, and it was battle after battle after that. Then by the time things had settled, companionship was the last thing on my mind.”

Ellie did the math quickly figuring it had to be about eleven years. She had thought eleven months was too long, she couldn’t imagine years. “It’s understandable.” She reassured him, “And we can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. I know me dropping back into your life was unexpected.” 

Thor cleared the suds from his eyes to look at her. “It was a miracle. I still can’t believe this is real.”

Ellie melted at his words, “It is, promise. Just a right place, right time sort of thing.” 

Thor gave his body a quick scrub with the soap, racing to get done before the hot water completely ran out. 

Once Thor finished he switched off the water and they stepped out. Ellie pulled two extra fresh towels out of the closet for them. She wrapped her hair up in one and started drying off with a second one. Thor watched her inquisitively. “How did you do… that? Does it help your hair dry faster?” He asked.

Ellie shrugged, “I think it does, it at least absorbs some of the extra water while I towel off. You want me to show you how?”

Thor nodded, “Yes, please.”

Ellie grabbed a towel and directed him to lean forward so she could show him. She patiently went through the motions with him until he could do it himself. He liked the wrap and thanked her for teaching it to him. As he looked at it in the mirror his lips turned down a moment as he stroked his beard. 

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked him. 

Thor shook his head, “My beard has gotten so long again. It reminds me of my fathers.” 

“It has grown a lot. Do you like it like this?” 

“Yes, for now. I like braiding it. I’m just not very good at it.”

“You’re in luck. I love making intricate braids. I will happily help, if you want” 

Thor nodded and took a seat on the edge of the tub for her to start but his expression darkened again. 

Ellie pulled his chin up to look at him while she ran her fingers through his beard. “Where did you go again?” 

Thor shook his head. The bleakness in his eyes was heartbreaking. He finally huffed and told her, “You’ve done so much for me in the past day. All things a grown man should be capable of on his own. I must seem like an invalid to you.” 

Ellie stopped combing his beard. “Not at all. Not even the slightest bit. You’re learning things you never had to do before and that’s important. If you had left it all up to me to do for you that would be different, but you’re willing to learn and help.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

“I know and I can’t force you to feel a certain way. You just have to let it pass and I’ll do what I can to remind you of the good things until it does.”

Thor’s balled his fists as they sat shaking in his lap. “But you shouldn’t have to do that either.” 

“Why shouldn’t I? Someone has to and I’m here and willing. You don’t have to suffer alone in silence, Thor. Everyone, even gods, need support from time to time. I want to be your support, if you’ll let me.” 

Thor sniffled, holding back tears. Ellie pulled his head to rest on her bare chest and just stroked his shoulders and back for several minutes until he pulled away having calmed down. 

“Ready for me to do up your beard?” She asked. 

“Yes, please. And thank you Ellie for… just… thank you.” 

Ellie smiled and gave him a nod before starting on his braid. Her nimble fingers made quick work of a French braid along his jaw that trailed into a large fishtail braid below his chin. Ellie was proud of her work and Thor loved it. He asked her to do his hair in a similar braid and she obliged. By the time she braided her own hair her fingers were sore but she couldn’t leave it down to dry without having a smoothing cream on it. 

Thor had gone to get changed and she pulled her day old clothes from the closet. She felt a little dingy but wasn’t willing to leave Thor just yet to run home. 

Thor was mulling over his shirt drawer when Ellie joined him in the bedroom. He appeared deep in thought and she took a moment to enjoy the sight of him. Thor’s light grey sweatpants hung low on hips, exposing the faint pink lines of old stretch marks and Ellie hoped she would get a chance to explore them all eventually. She knew being intimate with Thor was going to be a minefield of insecurities but she was patient and willing to go at his pace. Ellie hoped he would eventually come to accept that she really did adore his body. He was so large and powerful, the extra weight just added to that and made him infinitely better for cuddling. 

Thor heard a slight sigh from the doorway and saw Ellie watching him. His cheeks pinked a little but she was visibly enjoying it and it helped Thor resist the urge to hide. “What shall we do today?” He asked. 

“That is up to you. What do you normally do?” Ellie asked

Thor struggled to come up with an answer. “I play Fortnite with Korg online. Sometimes I go down to pick up a new beer shipment. I watch Fortnite tutorials sometimes if there’s something we can’t figure out. And I look for new delivery restaurants online. I like finding new Midgard foods to try. But mostly I just drink and play Fortnite.” He hung his head realizing how narrowed his world had become again.

“Hmm. I think we can find better plans than that for the day. Promise you’ll at least try to hold off until after lunch to have a beer today?” 

“I think I can do that. I’ve done okay so far. But what will we do? Do you want to learn how to play Fortnite? I have an extra controller.”

“Fortnite isn’t really my thing. Let’s find something to do outside the cottage for a bit. When was the last time you left for something other than a beer run?”

“Ahh…” Thor struggled to remember. His days had been nothing but an alcohol fueled daze for so long again that it all blurred together.

“Enough. I’m taking you out. Do you like coffee?” 

“Yes, very much so. It was the first thing I really enjoyed when I landed here the first time.”

“Let’s go get a cup of coffee and walk through the town gardens. You’ll love it.” 

“What if… ah… if something happens? I’m not sure how I will be out around people. I might… well I don’t know actually... but it could be bad.” 

“Thor, darling, that’s your anxiety talking. I need you to recognize that. It’s trying to keep you cooped up inside where you know you’re safe. But you’ll be just as safe going out with me. There is nothing out there that would hurt you. And worse case scenario, you get uncomfortable and we come back right away.” 

Thor sighed heavily, “I guess we could try. How far away is the coffee?”

“Five minutes, tops.” 

“Lead the way, m’lady.” He gestured to the door and Ellie took his outstretched hand in hers. It was good he was willing to try and she just had to hope she wasn’t rushing him too soon. 

Tag list lovelies: @thorfanficwriter @lancsnerd @avengers-fixation

[inkribbon796]

Black and White

Summary: Silver and his superhero friends think it’s time to finally take on the monster that’s had an iron grip on their town.

~::~ Twenty-Five Years Ago ~::~

Silver ran up the final flight of stairs to get to the room. It was dark, the sky illuminated by the street lights.

The monochrome-themed superhero was excited, months and planning and finally they were ready to take on Dark himself. Mark and his friends had gotten into a lot of fights with Dark’s cronies and middle-management enforcers, but they’d never come up against Dark or Wil directly.

Mostly not coming into contact with Wil was partially Daniel’s planning, and another part sheer dumb luck.

“You freak of nature,” Daniel gasped as he followed him up a bit more slowly. “How do you still run like a maniac, you can fly?”

Silver paused, so full of energy he was jogging in place. “Sorry, you need to rest, man?”

“Just a minute to catch my breath,” Daniel breathed a little bit heavier than usual. “The others in position?”

“Yeah, they’re just waiting for our signal,” Mark jumped up a bit, levitating off the ground about an inch or two. “This is going to be awesome.

“Oh yeah, awesome,” Daniel rolled his eyes, finally catching his second wind. “Okay, let’s go.”

Silver smiled as they both checked their costumes and then Silver safely grabbed onto Iblis’s arms so he could safely fly him down to the ground and they could quietly and in the dead of night heading over to the series of warehouses that made up Dark’s base of operations.

Everyone in Egoton knew to avoid the warehouses, everyone who was trying desperately to be a somewhat honest citizen in the despotic, wretched town they lived in anyways. The warehouses were stationed almost too close together, and bordered an old abandoned church that had long since fallen into ruin.

The warehouse Silver and his friends were going to try to break into was at the center of almost an oval shape except for a bend in it. Silver and Iblis snuck into the abandoned church. Silver took the time to fix one of the windows that stood as the signal that he and Iblis were in place.

The reflection of something caught Silver’s eye and he smiled at Iblis. “Time to raise some hell.”

Iblis smiled back and leapt out the already broken window to shoot a fireball at the closest warehouse, the same one they’d visit before they’d been accidentally taken to the Manor.

“Batter up,” Iblis smiled, throwing a large rock towards Silver who used a plank of wood lying around to hit the rock against the wall of the warehouse leaving a huge dent in the metal and distingrated the rock into a small cloud of sand and pebbles.

The reaction was almost instantaneous, which normally happened when fire came into the picture. Instantly Dark’s enforcers were alion them, some of them already drained from how late it was.

Something Mark didn’t quite calculate was how fast Dark showed up. The two heroes felt Dark’s aura a split second before the creature thinly disguised as a human actually showed up.

Silver was grabbed by the back of his neck and the fledgling hero felt energy completely course through him and sent him flying towards the warehouse that had already been attacked.

If Mark hadn’t already been granted super strength and super healing, he was certain that at that very moment he would have died instantly.

Silver slammed into the steel wall of the warehouse, his nose bleeding, neck aching, and head ringing. But Silver forced himself to stand and flipped Dark off as he wiped his bleeding nose.

The Entity actually looked impressed, glancing over at Iblis and then back to Mark, frowning. “Huh.”

“Yeah, we’re not dead, fucker!” Silver proclaimed loudly.

The mob boss’s frown became a scowl, “That is quite a shame.”

Silver lightly shook himself, gently around the neck to give it more time to heal and then fly at Dark as fast as he could at the same time that Iblis was launching more fireballs at him.

The aerial hero was smiling a little at the clear frustration on Dark’s face as he threw up his aura to block the fire being thrown at him. Leaving him open for—

Suddenly Silver slammed into a nearly invisible barrier of aura, Dark turning to smile at him. “Fly too close to the sun, and it will burn you, little Icarus.”

The hero pulled back a little Dark’s smile widened, the villain leaning in head brazenly closer as Silver tried to punch through the aura but was stopped and his wrist was aching.

“However you two survived,” Dark mused, “it’s of little consequence to me.”

“You—” Dark’s aura grabbed Silver by the foot and prepared to launch him. “—are nothing but mud at the bottom of my shoe, and I will dispose of you just as easily.”

Silver was thrown up into the air, he could feel aura still wrapped around him, trying to slam him back into a pile of twisted and jagged metal.

Before he could hit the shredded pile, a barrier started slowing his fall so it felt less like sharp spikes almost-death, and more like falling on pins and needles. Still hurt but it hurt less.

Bob stepped out from behind the warehouse, looking like he’d already gotten into a couple fights, Wade following him at more of a run. Both of them were in costumes that the group had patched together from a box of old costumes that Mark’s mom had in her attic and some old hoodies.

“Great,” Dark snarled, Iblis rushing to stand with them and away from Dark. “More technicolored vermin.”

“Your reign of terror over this city is over,” Silver told him.

“We want our city back!” Wade shouted.

Dark got a dark chuckle out of that, “Your city? You all are gravely mistaken. This city is a writhing, dark abyss that kills everything it touches. I did not summon evil into Egoton, I was summoned because of it. If anyone should be blamed, it’s your people.”

“Hey, fire and damnation!” Iblis called out before he threw a small fireball at Dark. Dark just watched it hit his aura barrier and then the smoke bomb in the middle erupted into a massive cloud of smoke.

The fledgling heroes for the first time in their lives heard Dark led out a loud and audible, “Fucking dammit!”

This would also be the last time they’d head Dark audibly curse in years but Mark took it as a victory.

Dark just flew towards them, his eyes red and blue, the ringing of his aura shrill and Mark could swear his ears were bleeding with how bad it was. Bob was the one to throw up a barrier but Dark slammed himself and his aura into it hard enough to knock Bob back into Mark a bit.

Shadowy tendrils of Dark’s aura trying to get into their barrier.

“Let me out of there so I can punch him,” Silver said, stomping on the bits of Dark’s aura that was trying to come up through the ground. He could tell that continuing to fight. Silver could feel almost like the warmth being drained from his entire body.

“I’m trying but he’ll get in,” Bob shouted. “Give me a second.”

Silver looked back at Wade and Daniel, “On my signal.”

Dark grinned.

“Oh ho!” Wilford called out and Silver internally cursed, Dark’s concentration faltering significantly. “And here I thought you were going to be working all night.”

“Not now!” Dark growled, Silver noticed that using so much aura had done something to Dark. It sparked something in Silver. That Dark was beatable, that they could do this.

“You busy?” Wil asked, canting his body a little to his left.

“If you could do something I’d be really appreciative right now,” Dark growled.

“Like what?” Wil asked.

Dark glared at Wil, as if he was trying to set the other villain on fire. Wil held up his hands, smiling nervously, “Right, right.”

He snapped his fingers and suddenly it was day time and all four of them were lying in a dumpster. Silver felt like he’d gotten into a fight that left every joint sore and he had cuts all over him . . . cuts probably from falling on a bed of metal shrapnel.

Silver took a moment to just stew in his own fury. They had Dark, they had stalled him.

“Dammit!” Silver spat, his fist slaying on something that squelched uncomfortably. “We almost had him.”

“What time is it?” Bob asked.

“I’m going back,” Mark tried to pick himself out of the dumpster, and completely lost the ability to adhere to the floor, he was just floating there.

“Mark,” Daniel called out. “We can’t, it’s daytime. Dark’s probably had time to recover.”

“We were so close,” Mark argued. “He was weakened. That cotton candy asshole had to come in to save his ass.”

“Mark!” Bob called out. “Stop!”

That finally got Mark to stop scrambling towards the ground and look back. All of them looked tired and beat.

“We need to sleep,” Bob said. “We’ve all missed work.”

“Sides,” Wade slurred, clearly half-asleep. “You literally smell like shit.”

The jab got a tired, sad sigh out of Mark. A sigh that turned into a little chuckle that spread to the rest of the group.

“Yeah, but we almost had him, he was on the ropes,” Mark repeated. “If Wil had just stayed to wherever the hell he was, we would have been able to stop him.”

“Next time,” Bob promised.

“Next time,” Mark mumbled. Iblis dragged. Himself out of the dumpster and grabbed Silver by the ankles. Wade helped to hose some of the trash and filth off them with his water powers.

The four heroes made their trek home, vowing to themselves to try again to bring the demon of Egoton down.

[ashis2gay4u]

First Burn, A Modern Valdangelo Hamilton! AU

When Nico di Angelo first saw him from across the room, he felt his heart doing back-flips and front-flips against his rib-cage. He turned to Hazel, who now stood next to him, and whispered, "That one there, the elf-ish boy... That one is mine; he has to be mine."

Hazel smiled, her golden eyes flashing with something Nico couldn't quite place, before she turned and headed off towards the boy in skinny jeans and suspenders.

Nico watched helplessly, mind racing, "What..."

What is she doing?

"Where are you taking me?" the boy asked.

"I'm about to change your life," Hazel said, smiling warmly.

"Why, lead the way~" he replied, smirking.

Nico let out a gasp when she led him right over to him.

Their eyes met, brown versus ebony.

Nico felt his heart stop.

Helpless, he thought, helpless against those gorgeous eyes.

"Hey," the boy said, and Nico, in all his glory, stuttered a reply.

"H-hey! U-uhm, N-Nico di Angelo!" he said, cheeks a bright red as he bowed.

"di Angelo, eh?"

"My brother," Hazel said, smirking.

"Oh, Leo Valdez! I'm a mechanic for Hades."

"T-thank you for ah, working so hard!" Nico said, his heart still racing.

"If that's all it took for us to meet, then it'll have been worth it~"

~

Nico was happy as he hung off of Leo's arm. After years of receiving love letters and sending them back, they were finally married.

Percy Jackson stepped up to the stage, laughing, face red and drunk, "Alright, alright! Let's get this party going! But first, from the maid of honor, Hazel Levesque!"

Hazel stepped up, her purple dress flowing behind her. She gladly took the mic from Percy, who patted her hair, before turning to smile at her older brother... And Leo.

"A toast to the grooms!" She said, raising her glass.

Everybody repeated what she said, laughing and smiling.

She looked around the room, and noticed Piper, Percy, and Will were already drunk, laughing as they talked among themselves.

"A toast to your union!"

"To their union!"

Nico looked so happy, but Hazel could see how Leo watched her every movement, her every word.

She brushed it off as him just listening intently.

"May you always be satisfied!"

"YASSS!" Percy and Piper screeched, earning laughter from throughout the room, as well as face-palms from Jason and Annabeth.

Hazel stepped down and went to sit with the others, sitting down next to Frank, who gently grabbed her hand.

She smiled at him, though her mind decided to wander.

She remembers that night. The dreamlike candlelight of the office party her father had hosted.

She remembered all the boys and girls falling over themselves to earn hers and Nico's praise, how many had failed.

But not Leo.

No, he had won them both over by storm...

"May I have this dance?"

Hazel jumped, whipping around to face the impishly smiling boy with chocolate skin, curly black hair tied back into a ponytail, and the warmest brown eyes she's ever seen.

Those eyes. She could stare into them all day...

"U-hm," she stuttered, forgetting her name as she stared into his eyes.

"Uhm?" he teased, smirking.

"I'm Hazel, Hazel Levesque-di Angelo."

"Leo Valdez. di Angelo, eh?"

Hazel blushed, nodding as he took her hand and placed the other on her hip, swaying them gently into a waltz of sorts.

Hazel felt complete, her chest was filled with warmth, her stomach aflutter with butterflies.

"You look like you've never been satisfied before," Leo suddenly said out of the blue.

Hazel's expression hardened, and her guards went up, "I'm sure I don't understand, you forget who you're talking to."

"I meant no ill will, I was just stating you're like me."

"What?"

"I've never been satisfied, either."

"Never?"

"Never."

Hazel couldn't believe it. There he was, perfect as can be, just like...

No, he's dead.

She turned to look to her brother as they parted ways, only to find he was watching Leo with a love-struck look.

He looked absolutely helpless.

So, she went over there and listened to him go on about Leo, and felt her face fall when he said, "That one there, the elf-ish boy... That one is mine; he has to be mine."

She knew he needed him more, so she gave up.

Her brother's happiness means more than hers, anyways.

Always.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I'm about to change your life."

"Nico di Angelo."

"Leo Valdez~"

Hazel was shaken from the memories when Percy announced that the activities will soon begin.

She turned to her brother and Leo.

Leo met her eyes for a second, only to look away and kiss Nico's forehead, causing the taller man to giggle.

At least Nico's his husband. At least she keeps his eyes in her life...

He will never be satisfied, and neither will she.

~

Leo knew it was a trap from the beginning. But with being promoted to the head of the work shop and with Nico and the kids gone, he couldn't handle the loneliness or the stress.

So, when Calypso came by, he didn't say no.

Gods, does he wish he did.

~

"Don't tell a soul," Leo snarled, glaring at Octavian and his lackeys.

Octavian smirked, turning to his brother, Luke. "Should we tell his husband? Poor, poor little Nico will be crushed!"

"I can prove I didn't steal from the company; I can prove it!"

The two brothers exchanged a look with Dakota, who seemed resigned.

The alcoholic merely shrugged, "Nobody was in the room where it happened."

"Is that a yes?"

"Uhhh... Yes," the three of them said.

"Great, I'll get started."

~

"Did you read the news?"

"Poor Nico!"

"He cheated on him, how ignorant-"

"Leo Valdez is a monster!"

"A cheater, too!"

Octavian and Luke watched and listened; they knew it was only a matter of time before the downfall of the enemy.

~

It was almost midnight when Nico di Angelo stormed into his husbands repair shop, slamming the pack of letters down onto the worktable Leo Valdez was sat at.

Leo looked up, and stared at his partner in crime in confusion, "Nico? What's wrong?"

"I saved every letter you wrote me."

"Oh? Why bring them here-"

"As soon as I read them, I knew you were mine, you said you were mine, I-I thought you were..."

Leo's eyes widened, "Nico-"

"Do you know what Hazel said when your first letter arrived?"

Leo shook his head, "No, but-"

"She said to be careful with you, that you'd do anything to survive. She was right, according to the news!" Nico's voice cracked, and he could feel his eyes watering.

Leo nearly fell out of his chair. "N-no, Nico, wait!"

"Do you know how much your words affected me? How good they made me feel? I was always so excited for the next one, your words flooded my senses, Leo," Nico said, glaring Leo down. "You built me a fucking castle made up of empty promises and broken trust disguised as love."

"Nico, just stop and listen-" Leo tried, eyes wide. He felt like he was being doused in gasoline and set on fire, the panic building up in his chest.

"I re-read the letters you wrote me, searched for an answer in every fuckin' line, looking for the answers as to when you were mine and mine alone... You published the letters she would write you, all so you could clear up where you were when all that shit happened at the company! In clearing your fuckin' name, you tarnished mine and ruined our fuckin' lives!"

Leo stood up, and took a step towards the taller man, only to have Nico step back, "Don't take another fuckin' step in my direction, Valdez!"

Leo winced. He and Nico both knew that on their wedding certificate, Leo had taken the others name.

That was a low blow, and Leo knew he deserved it.

"You told the world how you brought this girl- Calypso- into our bed! Do you know what Hazel said when she saw the news? 'You've married an Icarus; he's flown too close to the sun'. You're so paranoid about how others view you, so obsessed with carrying on your mother's legacy and work that you forget what's important!

"The world has no right to my heart! Has no right to my bed! They don't get to know what I fuckin' say on the subject!"

"Nico, please-" Leo begged, cheeks drenched in tears. He let out a hiccup, followed by an ugly sob.

Nico's tear drenched face contorted into something out of a horror movie, a look of pure pain and suffering, "As soon as somebody whispers something, you fucking scream in response!"

Leo was about to speak when Nico raised a hand, his lips breaking into a broken, watery smile, "I know about whispers, Leo, I've had them following me all my fuckin' life! Not to mention, I see how you look at my sister!"

"Ni-"

"DON'T! I'M NOT NAÏVE!" he screamed, balling his hands into fists. "I have seen women and men around you, how they fall for your charms!"

Leo sat back down, defeated as he watched Nico walk away. He returned with a torch in hand, and tossed the letters on the ground. "I'm burning the letters you wrote me; they don't mean anything now. I'm burning the memories, the last bit of proof to prove that you're a decent guy, the last thing that could've redeemed you. You can just sit there and watch."

Leo didn't say a word, merely watched, gut wrenching at the sight as Nico set them all aflame.

"When the time comes, you can explain to Maria-Bianca and Sammy what you've done, the pain and embarrassment you've put me through, how you dragged our name through the mud."

"Nico..."

Nico laughed almost hysterically, before going stone faced and ripping off his ring, tossing it to Leo, "You forfeit the right to my heart."

Leo stared at the ring as he caught it, eyes wide as he looked back up at Nico, "No-!"

"You forfeit the right to our bed."

"Nico, please just listen-"

"You sleep here instead!"

"No, I-"

"When will you learn, Leo?" Nico mused; voice soft for the first time since he got there.

"L-learn...?"

"When will you learn," Nico said, voice raising to a shrill sound, "That our children are your legacy? That I am your legacy? That we are your legacy?! When will you learn?!"

"I'll try harder, I'll do better! Please-!"

"Stand back and watch it burn. Watch all that we've built burn to the ground!"

Nico stormed off towards the door, tossing the torch aside.

He stopped with his shaking hand on the door handle, before turning to flash that same, broken smile at Leo over his shoulder, his black hair messy and tangled, his ebony eyes shattered

"I hope that you burn," he said flatly, a sob ripping itself free from his throat right afterwards.

He left, slamming the door shut.

Leo sat there, gripping the ring he held in his hand, and broke down, crying and screaming.

~

"Leo!"

"Hazel!"

"Congratulations."

Leo stared in shock.

"You've invented a new kinda stupid, the open-all-the-cages-in-the-zoo, kinda stupid, no, worse!"

"Hazel..."

"Do you realize what you've done, Leo?"

"IT.. It was an act of political sacrifice!"

Hazel froze, staring him down, "Sacrifice? I languished in a loveless marriage in Rome for a long time before I found Frank, and even then all I could think of was you for years!"

"Hazel-"

"But you know why I'm not with you? Because I saw how he looked when he looked at you, how happy he was! I know my brother like I know my own mind, you'll never find anybody as understanding and as kind...

“I love my brother more than anything in this world, I'd sacrifice my happiness for his every time! Nico is the best thing in our lives, so don't forget that you've been blessed with the best husband!"

"..."

"So yeah, congratulations! For the rest of your fucking life! Every choice you make is for my brother, give him the best life!"

"Hazel-"

"Congratulations."

~

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

Will stood by the bed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Leo, but with the entry point of the wound, she-"

Leo pushed Will out of the way, rushing to kneel by Maria-Bianca.

"P-papa, I-"

"Shh, I know-"

"I did as you said, I aimed my arrows high-"

"Shh, I know, sweetheart, save your strength and stay alive, please-"

"Where's my daughter? How is she? Will she survive this?! Leo, did you know?!" Nico cried, tears running free as he knelt next to his husband, brushing the hair from their daughter's face.

"Dad, I'm sorry..." Maria whispered, coughing.

"It's okay, it's okay, shush, sweetling, save your strength."

"I remember what you taught me... How we played piano-"

"Yes, I know. You always changed the tune," Nico whispered back.

He took Leo's hand, gripping it to steady himself. Leo squeezed back just as hard.

"I always changed the tunes..."

Nico began to sing, "Une deux trois quatre-"

"Cinq six sept huite neuf-"

"Good. Une deuz trois quatre cinq six-"

"cinq six..."

"Sept huite neuf... Sept huite neuf... Sept huite-"

You could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that ensued the death of their daughter.

Nico stood up and left, Leo in tow.

~

"Can you imagine?"

"How cruel can the world be?"

"If you see Valdez walking through the streets and talking to himself, don't judge, he's going through the unimaginable."

"Poor Nico. First a cheating husband, now a dead daughter."

"Shh, here comes Valdez."

~

"Leo, you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Leo, we need to talk. You can't keep saying that."

Leo turned to look up at Nico, who was standing at his shoulder, "Why? You hate me."

"I don't, I could never..."

"..."

"I love you."

Leo looked up at him once again, shocked, "After all I've done...?"

"Yes, Repair Boy, after all that you've done."

Leo broke down at that, standing up and grabbing onto Nico, sobbing into his shoulder.

Nico merely picked him up and sat down, placing the Latino on his lap.

"I love you, Drago."

"I love you too, Angel..."

And they kissed. After so long, the sparks were still there.

And Leo fell in love all over again.

~

"If you see them walking, they're trying their bests."

"Nico called off the divorce, his father is pissed."

"Don't judge them, they're going through the unimaginable."

~

When Leo died, Nico was crushed.

"You always wanted more time... Now I'm stuck with just that..."

He had Hazel, up until she passed away due to a car crash.

He and Frank mourn together, and Hazel is buried near Leo and Maria-Bianca.

Nico visits them every year on their birthdays and death days.

He always leaves them roses from their garden. Always.

And for Leo, snapdragons. He was always obsessed with dragons, had managed to build a dog size mechanical one named Festus.

He and Sammy keep him company, with frequent visits from Frank and his friends.

He'll make sure the world will tell Leo's story.

{La Fin}

~Ashton Bende

[icarus-imagines]

Goro Akechi X Male!Reader

I’ve noticed Goro Akechi has a nice body(if ya know what I mean) Could you do an x male reader admiring “Gods work”

Word Count: 2,570

Category: Persona 5

I believe while writing this I headcanoned these two Gays to be Switches. Haha.

-Mod Icarus ଘ(੭ºัᴗºั)━☆ﾟ

~Gods Most Perfectly Made Man~

"How do I look (Y/n)-chan?"

You were about to make a less than nice comment about how he used that honorific on you, but instead, you quickly stop in your tracks, the books in your hands halting on their way to be set down on your bedside table for later use. Turning your head your (E/c) eyes widen at what attire he has just discovered deep within your closet.

Your winter top...

Never in your wildest dreams had you ever thought your boyfriend would try something like this on you. If you had thought of something like this you would imagine Goro scoffing and teasing you about what a romantic you were.

So it came as a huge surprise to you when you had gotten home from a study group with some friends to find your boyfriend snugly clad in clothing you had forgotten you ever owned.

Your eyes trailed up from his usual attire of tan pants to your shirt. A white button up lay underneath, but the item you were concentrating on for some reason made your mouth water. It loosely hugged his perfect body, the black of your school uniform contrasting with his beautiful pale face and hands. The red of the buttons making his unique mahogany hued eyes pop unexpectedly.

At that moment he seemed, to you at least,...innocent.

With the way, his long fingers clutched at the front of the clothes in an almost anxious manner to the way he tilted his head to the side making his shaggy brown hair fall to one side. He was beauty itself at that moment, though he was like this every day.

Slowly meeting his eyes you caught a glimpse of what you had initially been trying to find before you got so enraptured in the overall majestic look of him.

That malicious smirk.

The hard to find glint shining in his eyes.

He knew. He knew what he was doing to you. He had wanted to guarantee a rise out of you when you came home. And god...how he had succeeded and you hadn't even been home thirty seconds. It was oh so easy for him to make you speechless. Make you stare in awe at him until he moved and broke your focus.

You wanted to curse him out and tell him to stop with his endless mind games. But at the same time, you didn't want to, you didn't want to speak or stop looking at him. Deep inside you both knew you loved it. Loved the mind games he secretly conducted behind your back to excite you in any and every way possible.

Fuck him, you thought bitterly. Fuck him, his natural good looks, and his intelligent ways.

If only you were this confident outside your mind...

"(Y/n)-chan," Goro drawled impatiently. He had suddenly appeared right in front of you, that smirk still ever present on his picture perfect face.

You dropped the books in your hands in surprise. They landed with a small thud on your bedside table, thankfully you had been halfway there and not in the middle of the room. You straightened up, facing him correctly.

"Yes?" you asked. Voice quiet and very unsure on what would happen next.

Goro was a Wildcard.

"I asked you a question." Goro's voice rung with authority and sharp impatience. You almost flinched at the sentence directed towards you, but you had somewhat grown accustomed to such harsh words. If you had been a normal person they would be quick to turn him away. But Goro was like your drug and you couldn't and wouldn't turn away from him. "How do I look?"

Without a seconds hesitation, you replied quickly to satisfy his wants. "Desirable."

You clamped your mouth shut, eyes widened at your own surprising words. Goro himself for a second broke out of his dominant stance to genuinely grin at your answer. Like always you found a way to catch him off guard even if you had no intention of doing so in the first place.

He chuckled, the pure sound relaxing the tension in your body that had collected. You admired what you could while his shoulders slightly shaken in laughter. His lean body hunched over a bit as he tried to calm himself enough to be composed once again. Before he did you noted how beautiful his backside was, you were never at this sort of angle before. You were enjoying it. Plus the fact you could see the curve of his bottom in his pants. They were the right amount of tight, adding to his overall beauty.

"Desirable you say?" Goro straightened up, moving closer to you to rest his triceps comfortably upon your shoulders. He was shorter than you, but that made no difference to sway his ways. The rest of his arms raised up to let his fingers tangle into your (H/c) locks that shined in the light of the room. His long fingers ran through them in a rhythmic gesture over and over again hypnotically. If Goro had done this to you while in bed you would have fallen right asleep.

Another chuckle, though darker than last time, came from your boyfriend as your eyelids almost grew heavy. You stared at him in confusion to only be greeted with a smirk.

"You're too adorable for your own good, do you know that?" he mused looking at you in deep thought.

You finally spoke up, "Do you know that when you wear my clothes I get horny?"

Your confidence roared alive when Goro gazed at you in pure shock. He hadn't expected such a bold answer from you. The one who was supposed to be submissive. Lapping at the food in his hand. But he didn't know you were absolutely keening just knowing he had been taken off guard. His defenses had lowered greatly, just by a simple comment uttered from your lips.

"(Y/n)-chan, you really shouldn't say such vulgar things in front of me, you know how it makes me feel," he said, words set in a pouty manner. You knew better than that though. You knew he spoke much worse things about the people he despised.

He liked to put up an act...

How you loved it.

"Do you think I care in the least right now?" Your words were sharp and short as you set your hands on his waist, settling perfectly atop his delicate hips, that looked very delectable from this close-up angle.

"Hmmm," he hummed, still pouting, with his lips slowly started to pucker. You quickly got the sign and placed a warm kiss upon them.

When it quickly began to escalate you started relishing the way he leaned in to taste all you had to offer him. You wondered what you tasted like? Maybe (Y/f/f)?

Even with the act, he had set up for himself for the public, which was slightly on now, you knew he was still himself. It was obvious by the way he loved to take control of the situation in any way that he possibly could. It irked him when it wasn't and would lash out violently when it happened.

So right now you obediently followed his lead, him leading you on elegantly like a toy puppet for a show. Something only Goro would ever witness happens. Taganizingly slow he drew himself forward against your body in a way that left you reeling. His chest upon yours made you desire more touch, more skin.

Unfortunately, tonight was a night only for heated kisses and patience for a much hotter day in the future.

The sensation of Goro's tongue tangling with your own made you feel undeniably dizzy. Paired with him tilting his head you couldn't focus properly. Excitement clawed its way into your nerves, like electricity it crackled violently and simmered out every few seconds when Goro pulled away for a second of breath to come right back in and take you once more.

It was erotic. Maybe even romantic. Maybe it wasn't any of those things. But either way, all you were wanting right now was Goro's lips upon yours forever.

You wanted to constantly taste the rich and sugary flavor of maple syrup that always plagued his cavern. It was intoxicating and it was the only thing you ever wanted to taste. Somehow you had come to desire such food any time of the day because it made you think of him and nobody else.

If you ever broke up, you knew this would never happen, it would haunt you in your dreams for eternity. The smell, taste, the sight. It would remind you of Goro. Of the late nights when you both silently ate pancakes together, eyes drooping, syrup almost dripping off the plates you both held. It would remind of you of the male who was the best thing that ever happened to you. The one who got away.

You broke apart from Goro, face flushed red from not enough air. Huffing in breaths, Goro did the same, his now swollen lips open to breathe in the oxygen his body desperately needed. The looked he was giving you made you shake with ecstasy, something you found often came to you when around the shorter intelligent detective.

"I care for you, (Y/n)-chan," he quickly mumbled.

"What?" you asked, surprised at what he had said. It wasn't a proclamation of love, he didn't like sweet thing like that, but it still was a declaration. The closest he had ever gotten to such endearing words; Besides when you took each other in bed.

"Don't you dare make me say it again," he retaliated stopping you from pressing his buttons. Ones you never wanted to press. The ones you did had fates you didn't want to remember.

You just chuckled though for a second, even with the dark look he was giving you. Leaning in close, you set your forehead upon his, though it was more correctly his long bangs. (H/c) and brown mixing together at the action you hands wandered to gather up his ass in your hands. One for each cheek to be cupped in. It felt right...like your hands needed to be there.

Goro let out a sound similar to a squeal, he would deny it if you ever asked. He quickly grabbed both your arms tightly. He tried to pull away, but you were much stronger than you let on. Your body barely budged an inch with every futile tempt he tried. Eventually, he stopped himself to simply glare up at you. His eyes blazed a vibrant mahogany. Your soft (E/c) eyes though, didn't waver in the slightest at his heated stance.

"(Y/n)-chan," he growled lowly, making sure he had your full attention. Honestly, he sounded like small puppy demanding something he wouldn't get. (People thought he was dominant, in public and even alone sometimes yes, but being incredibly intimate you both switched constantly.) "Remove your hands," he ordered.

"But they fit so...," you trailed off searching for that one word that would fit nicely into the sentence, "perfectly."

His grip on you slackened a great amount as he gaped at you in what you perceived as a mix of shocked horror or just plain bewilderment upon your words. He opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, trying to reel in any reply. But in the end, he was unsuccessful. His face blossomed with a rosiness that made you feel absolutely impassioned. It made you feel proud at how he was submitting himself under you so unusually quick for someone that possessed his unique type of personality.

"Speechless I presume?" You said a smirk now on your face.

He writhed under that smirk, he hated it. It made him feel so inferior, so weak. "Who wouldn't be? You have your hands. Cupping. My ass."

"You obviously like it," you replied quickly, saying only the truth.

"No, I don't," he said. But he put on a grin you knew for absolute sure was a fake one. "Now I'll ask nicely, just for you. Please, take your hands off my ass."

The proposition was tempting, but you were good at not being swayed by such simple things.

"No," you stated quite simply.

His 'grin' dropped quicker than it had earlier formed. "And why is that?"

"As I said earlier," you said restating your very own words. "They fit so-"

He blocked you off by putting his left hand atop your lips. You mumbled the rest of your unfinished sentence while Goro looked at you sourly.

"Fine," he grumbled.

You're eyebrows scrunched together wondering what he possibly meant, but before you could ask he had removed his hand and had started to kiss your lips once more. His hands traveled down to your forearms, pushing them closer, enticing you to hold him. You did exactly as he said, but instead of just holding him you began to, more along the lines of, grope him.

You gingerly squeezed the masses in your hands, even to the point of softly massaging them through the fabric of his pants. He shivered beneath you, but denied he was weakening, by taking control himself.

He left your lips to pepper kisses down to your exposed collarbone. He sucked at the skin that was revealed. But like always he was extra. He sucked hard. Making sure that when he was done it would stay for as long as he saw fit. Releasing you he admired the big purple bruise-like mark he had inflicted upon your once smooth, clear skin. You tried to suppress any noise, but a moan escaped you when his tongue lapped at your skin. Easing the slight sting, that somehow he always created when bruising your skin with 'loving', more like marking, hickeys.

Goro leaned back to gaze at you, eyes somehow impossibly blown and wild looking in appearance. He groaned lowly when you squeezed, for just a second, at his bottom. How beautiful the sounds he made were.

He looked up at you, an expression akin to that of which people described as lovesickness on his face. It arose in his usual depressed visage with the possibility of more in the future. At that moment you knew you could say it.

"I love you too, Goro."

~*~*~*~

~Extra Ending~

Goro took a bite of his steaming pancakes, that same look of lovesickness slowly beginning to break the surface. He was currently wearing your clothes again after work, you had persuaded him to do so. With this picture engraved in your mind, you smiled and continued to soak in his sunlight.

"Is there something on my face?" Goro asked softly, pointing towards himself.

You just slowly shook your head, resting your face in your hands and tilting it slightly to gaze at him once again.

"Just perfection. Pure perfection."

Goro Akechi was, without a doubt, God's most perfectly made man.

~The End~

[iamchikara]

Results for both stages of the YLC doubleheader under the cut.

FIRST STAGE Match #1: YLC Elimination Four-Way #1 Boomer Hatfield vs. Lee Moriarty vs. Jay Sorbet vs. Bla...uh... Blanche was recently injured and had to withdraw from this match, necessitating the drawing of names to replace. Human Tornado (that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while) was #1, of course he wasn’t in the building. Neither were Hurricane Helms (#2) or Roman Reigns (#4). #3 was Sonny DeFarge, but of course he had a match later. The fifth draw turned out to be the lucky one, as Lady Frost (who has been making the indie rounds lately and has some of the nicest ring gear I’ve seen in recent times) got the nod as the replacement. So let’s try this again! Match #1: YLC Elimination Four-Way #1 Boomer Hatfield vs. Lee Moriarty vs. Jay Sorbet vs. Lady Frost Jay Sorbet apparently sings “That’s a-Sorbet” before dropping an elbow. He’ll fit in just fine, I think. Moriarty, who wasn’t s’posed to be in this either (he replaced the previously announced Jaden Való) had quite the showcase, as he eliminated Sorbet and Frost within seconds of each other. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite able to get the job done, and Boomer utilized the Heidicanrana to win the match. Post-match, Scott Holladay tried to interview Boomer and ask about his recent family issues, leading to Dasher Hatfield crashing the interview and scolding Scott for not focusing on Boomer’s win. Boomer himself never got to say a word. WINNER: Boomer Hatfield Match #2: Trios Contest The Regime vs. Arm Wringer Amir, Enzuigiri Evan, and Headbutt Hari Juan Francisco de Coronado’s bad karma has been catching up to him lately. Last month, he was booted from Ecuador due to tax evasion, and this month, well... Apparently dude hasn’t been paying the Closers for their services too well, as, instead of following his instructions to maul the three new debuting masked guys, they decided to inform him of his delinquent payment status. They wanted their payment in full. Of course, it wasn’t provided, so they ordered their opponents out of the ring and proceeded to completely destroy JFDC instead. Always remember to pay your hired goons, people. NO CONTEST Match #3: YLC Elimination Four-Way #2 Frantik vs. Thief Ant vs. Air Wolf vs. Jaden Newman A sneaky pin by Thief surprised rival Frantik, sending him out of the match first. However, it was Newman who made his mark on the match, eliminating first tournament favorite Air Wolf and then Thief with a knockout elbow referred to as “First to Last” to punch his ticket to the semis. WINNER: Jaden Newman Match #4: Singles Contest Missile Assault Man (1 point) vs. Rory Gulak I’m told Missile didn’t have too much trouble with Rory and was able to secure his second point. WINNER: Missile Assault Man (2 points) INTERMISSION Match #5: Singles Match, Unsanctioned Chain Match Lucas Calhoun vs. Volgar As this has been deemed an unsanctioned match, unless I’m informed otherwise after this has been written/posted, Calhoun’s points are not on the line. Accordingly, there was no referee and no commentary, with those in attendance providing a ten count to answer to. (I really don’t think that last part is how a chain match actually works, but hey.) As expected, it was a big brawl, with Calhoun getting the win via the super Samoan drop after smashing a bottle over Volgar’s head. WINNER: Lucas Calhoun Match #6: YLC Elimination Four-Way #3 DL Hurst vs. Davienne vs. Cam Carter vs. Still Life Davienne was out first, tapping out to a submission from Hurst. Carter, another huge favorite in the tournament, eliminated Hurst next, but missed a 450 splash on Still Life and was rolled up for the shock elimination. Scott Holladay caught up to Still Life post-match, but they (Still Life uses they/them pronouns, guess art doesn’t have any kind of gender?) refused to answer Holladay’s question regarding BLANK having a new muse (alluding to BLANK’s recent obsession with Penelope Ford). WINNER: Still Life Match #7: YLC Elimination Four-Way #4 Allie Kat vs. Brayden Lee vs. Ricky South vs. Green Ant Green refused to give Kat belly scratches, but did scratch her behind the ear. South was more than willing to give belly scratches, though he gave Lee them instead. Kat, another big favorite, was eliminated first by Green, prompting the crowd to boo him pretty heavily. South impressed during the match, at one point hitting a double northern lights suplex on Lee and Green. It was Lee who pulled out the shock elimination midway through, sending Green out of the tournament after a sequence that saw him hit a modified Michinoku driver on Green, hurricanrana South off the top down onto him, then finish him off with a shooting star press. That sounds nuts, IMO. Unfortunately for Lee, he couldn’t keep that momentum going, and South finished him with a super piledriver. WINNER: Ricky South Match #8: MAIN EVENT Singles Contest Mark Angelosetti (1 point) vs. Chris Dickinson (1 point) These two came in hot and quickly threw down. Dickinson made a point of targeting Touchdown’s leg, and nearly got himself DQ’d for bullying Bryce Remsburg. (Yes, he’s been an utter idiot as DoF, but you just don’t bully referees.) Touchdown was able to hit the Flea Flicker to end it. WINNER: Mark Angelosetti (2 points), Chris Dickinson is out of the standings Post-match, Dasher and Boomer hit the ring, as Dasher had a third opponent “from the Dugout” already lined up for Touchdown on the second half. Bryce tried to mediate the mess he helped cause, but was figuratively steamrolled by Dasher and Touchdown agreed to the match anyway. SECOND STAGE Match #1: YLC Semifinal #1 Boomer Hatfield vs. Jaden Newman Utilizing the Heidicanrana once again, Boomer punched his ticket to the finals at Newman’s expense. WINNER: Boomer Hatfield Match #2: YLC Semifinal #2 Still Life vs. Ricky South South attempted to hit the super piledriver that got him to the semis, but Still Life reversed that in midair and turned it into a jackknife pin to end the match. WINNER: Still Life Match #3: Singles Contest, MAGIC MOVE (450 Splash) Cam Carter vs. Air Wolf While Carter pulled out the 450 again and thus scored the crowd something that was hopefully nice, Wolf was able to win the match with an arm capture brainbuster. Man, Carter just couldn’t catch a break. WINNER: Air Wolf (1 point) Match #4: Trios Contest The Colony (Fire, Worker, and Thief Ant) vs. the Creatures of the Deep (Hermit Crab, Cajun Crawdad, and Merlok) This was originally advertised as a tag contest. Guess the Queen thought the crustaceans would have issues and sent the big fish. At one point, Crawdad hung from the ceiling before launching himself down onto everyone, which sounds pretty nuts. Fire secured the win for his team, pinning Crawdad after the Beach Break. WINNERS: The Colony Match #5: Tag Contest Cornelius Crummels and Sonny DeFarge vs. F.I.S.T. (Travis Huckabee and Tony Deppen) (2 points) Deppen wanted to jump Crummels and DeFarge before the match even started, but Huckabee prevented him from doing so. Everyone shook hands and immediately doublecrossed each other, leading to something of a mirror match for a bit as both teams evidently read the same rudo playbook. As this match was rudo/rudo, the crowd ended up kicking up a “Let’s Go No One” chant instead of picking a side. Utilizing a double stomp/stretch muffler combination, F.I.S.T. picked up the win and their third point. WINNERS: Travis Huckabee and Tony Deppen (3 points) Match #6: Grand Championship Defense #5 Dasher Hatfield vs. Solo Darling Both competitors brought their best, both dishing it out and taking it. Solo even kicked out of a jackhammer after a double stomp...at 1. If that doesn’t prove she’s tough as all getout, I don’t think anything will. Dasher was finally able to put her down with an Oklahoma Stampede. WINNER: Dasher Hatfield Match #7: YLC Finals Still Life vs. Boomer Hatfield Boomer injured his knee early on, hampering his ability to get the job done. Still Life took full advantage of that, as well they should, and was able to get the victory and the cup via the Venus Fly Trap figure four. Post-match, Scott Holladay once again attempted to speak to Still Life, only for BLANK to appear. He addressed Penelope Ford, saying that she ruined his masterpiece last month, and he couldn’t unsee that no matter what he did. He then leaves. (I am not sure where this one’s going...) WINNER and YLC XV HOLDER: Still Life This year’s King of Trios is announced! It’s going to be on October 4-6 (good on them for moving it so that it didn’t clash with BOLA) and in Reading, PA. Tickets went on sale today. Match #8: MAIN EVENT Singles Contest Mark Angelosetti (2 points) vs... As Dasher said he had someone lined up “from the Dugout”, there’s only one person this could be, and it is indeed Icarus, who is going into the match with one point. Touchdown and Dasher’s hitman threw down, with Ick trying to get the killshot early with the Blu-Ray, only for Touchdown to kick out. The way this match sounded, it’s a wonder Touchdown wasn’t injured again during it. Unfortunately, Ick couldn’t finish the rightful Grand Champion off, and Touchdown punched his ticket to a showdown via an Oklahoma roll. Post-match, Ick went to pick up Touchdown, only for Dasher to intervene...and inform him that he had one job and he failed, before letting Ick pick up Touchdown and hit the Blu-Ray again. “Mark, earning three points does NOT make you a champ.” DoF Remsburg attempted to intervene as well and take back the title, but was again shut down. Touchdown attempted to plead with Dasher, only to be laid out with the title. “I worked too hard. It’s mine and I’m keeping it.” At this point, Bryce finally decided to try to curtail the mess he helped cause and give us what should’ve been done from the getgo: a proper match between Dasher and Touchdown, making a ladder match for April 5th to decide the undisputed Grand Champion. He also announced that as his final act as DoF, marking an end to his much-criticized tenure in the position. WINNER: Mark Angelosetti (3 points), Icarus is out of the standings

[duskfloret]

8 FOR EVERYONE!!! >:33

♔「 @wholehcartedly & @conoscenze ; accepting 」kiki and vera are the real mvps ❞

8: How did you choose the name for your muse?(This is a little more of why I named them what I did, but oh well.)

Katsuo Mizushima–his given name means “victorious man,” which is a little ironic because of the fact that he’s so anxious and timid; regardless, he is still a prodigy in his own right, so it suits him too. His father named him! His surname is composed of characters that mean “water” and “island,” a reference to the fact that his family lives on an island. (On a slightly related note, his younger brother’s name, Shinji, means “truthful (second son)” and a) he’s an honest guy, and b) he’s not the product of an affair like Katsuo is.)

Ryoko Mizushima–her given name means “bright child,” which definitely suits her due to her intellect and how she seems so talented at everything she tries. Her mother named her, and it’s possibly a jab at how the woman prefers her daughter over her son, as Ryoko’s birth was a bright spot after, well, Katsuo’s existence.

Jonah–his name wasn’t picked for any particular reason aside from sounding nice. His master just liked the name and needed something to call his cat. It means “dove,” a fact his master did not take into consideration.

Noire–she was named for her hair colour, since noir is “black” in French! It also fits into the morality/ideas her mentor drilled into her growing up, where “black” means bad and “red” is good, and since she doesn’t consider herself as good… (This thought process has slowly faded and she doesn’t pay it much mind anymore, though; it does still influence the fact that her clothes are mostly red and black.) As for her real name, Cerise Bellerose, Cerise means “cherry,” which is her favourite fruit, and Bellerose means “lovely rose,” because she’s cute and often incorporates rose accessories into her outfits.

Kotone Furuya–her given name means “harp sound” and her surname means “old valley.” These weren’t picked for any specific reason. Her real name, Chinami Agano, also wasn’t picked for any specific reason aside from Chinami sounding cute.

Tzaphkiel–this is a given, based on the fact that she’s an existing archangel. But the nickname Tzan comes from the fact that I’m too lazy to write out her name every time I refer to her.

Kaeto Easton–Kaeto is pretty much just a different way of writing Cato, which is an old Roman name meaning “wise,” and Easton was picked largely just because it sounds kind of similar to the name of a city in the state where I grew up. As for his real name, Aspen Banks–aspen is a tree, one that has been symbolically (and maybe literally) cut down after his mother passed away, and Banks (though the name itself refers to hillsides) may or may not be related to the fact that his father sold him to pay off gambling debts, because banks and money and all.

Fane Vasile–his given name is the Romanian diminutive of one that means “crown,” and his surname is the Romanian form of one that means “king.” It’s ironic because he grew up poor and is still very frugal, and he’d never consider himself the least bit royal. Also, since Vasile is a form of Basil, which is the name of a plant, it reflects the fact that he likes plants a whole lot.

Takara Nakahara–her given name means “treasure,” which is both fitting and not; on one hand, her ability is rare and valuable, but on the other hand, she’s often looked down on and cast aside due to being an illegitimate child. Her surname is just meant to be a generic common one (as her mother was a commoner), and I like the way it sounds together. The name of her father’s family, Oshiro, means “castle,” which represents the fact that they’re important.

Inari–another given.

Sanae Agano–her given name means “rice seedlings,” and I didn’t pick it for a particular reason aside from it sounding pretty. Agano was the surname for a character that I’d since scrapped the idea for and wanted to reuse (I don’t remember the meaning and looking it up isn’t helping, but apparently there was a Japanese cruiser named Agano). Maiko means “dancing girl,” which I picked for obvious reasons.

Silvia Asenov–her given name actually means “forest,” but I picked it because it sounds like silver. Her surname doesn’t have much of a meaning and just sounds nice.

Nona Blanc–her given name just sounded nice (it means “ninth”), and her surname means “white;” this represents her purity, along with the fact that it can be used to refer to someone with blond hair.

Aris Sanna–his given name (a modern form of Ares) was picked for a few reasons: its relation to Greek myth, the fact that it sounds similar to Icarus, and because all the letters in it are also in Icarus. Sanna was just a name from a list of Greek surnames, though the site is now saying that it’s Italian… huh.

Kyros Iakovou–his given name was picked for the K sound in it, to match the K (ch) sound in Achilles. It’s also the variant of a name that can mean “farsighted,” which is ironic because he severely lacking in the department of foresight and good judgement. Iakovou was picked to create alliteration.

Maia Petrou–her given name can mean “mother” or “great,” and she’s both of those things; it was picked to reflect the fact that Andromache was the epitome of the ideal wife and mother, and to somewhat mimic the -mache part of the name. Petrou just sounded nice with Maia. Maia is also a star in the Taurus constellation.

Pyrrha Braun–her given name was initially picked because it’s pretty (and also P for Perseus), but the fact that Pyrrha is a figure in Greek myth sealed the deal. It means “red”! Then, I picked Braun because it refers to a person who’s brown-skinned or brown-haired, and put together with her first name, you get reddish-brown hair–or auburn, in other words.

Theon Marlowe–his given name… stands for Theseus the CEO, and the -n makes it an Ancient Greek name. It’s a reference to the fact that before he developed into an actual muse, Cae and I referred to a potential reincarnation of him as Theseus the CEO. Marlowe wasn’t picked for any specific reason.

Caesar Antinori–he’s named after an anime character because I was watching the second part of JJBA at the time and Joseph yelling, “CAESAR!!!” and saying, “Caesarino,” reminded me of how Pyrrha would talk to Theon’s younger brother, so… (Pyrrha also breaks the fourth wall by insisting he’s named after an anime character.) Also, there’s a vineyard in Italy owned by an Antinori family (I’ve heard), and the idea of, “No, not those Antinoris,” was funny to me.

Lena Antinori–her given name can mean “sunlight” or “moonlight” in Greek, and it has the same vowel arrangement as the -meda part of Andromeda.

Gino de la Fontaine–for the most part, I picked his name because it sounds kind of pretentious, which is ironic for someone like him. His first name means “ever-living,” which is a reference to him being a reincarnation, and his surname means “of the fountain,” which is just pretty neat.

Asher Gray–his given name means “happy; blessed”! It used to be an ironic name, but now that he’s worked through many of his issues, it’s true and suits him perfectly. Gray is because someone who once went by that name said to me, “Hi, I’m Gray without the R,” and that suits the fact that he’s pansexual. (The in-story reason is that Pyrrha went on some rant about names where both the first and last mean the same thing, and used “if Asher’s name was Ash Gray” as an example. Since he didn’t like his father’s surname, he picked up Asher Gray as a stage-name of sorts.) His actual surname, Barnett, doesn’t have any spectacular story behind it.

Anelie Vossen–her given name is a short version of a name meaning “grace” or “favour,” and she especially lacks the latter, as she’s the black sheep of her family. She’s not particularly graceful either. And then Vossen creates alliteration.

Akari Shiraga–her given name is written as “red village,” the red part being a reference to the ribbon in her hair. Shiraga is the surname of her guardian, who is the Big Bad in Ryoko and Katsuo’s canon storyline.

[ladyemberswrites]

             “I’m Not a Heartbreaker, Am Just Getting My Heart Broken”

                                             “You Don’t Know Me.”

You give your hand to me, and then you say goodbye, I watch you walk away beside the lucky guy  -Ray Charles

Oh, look at you. Your gonna leave a trail of broken hearts one day.

 Lance beamed at his auntie. A sort of pride swells in his chest, and he smiles a crooked grin, showing teeth and all.

 A future ladies’ man, that boy is. His grandmother chimes in.

 Lance closes his eyes, and boy do they burn. Ugh. Why didn’t anyone warn you that being out in the far reaches of space could cause dry eyes. He rubs them with the heel of his palm, even though he shouldn’t and of course the burning increases. Like someone had dumped citrus juice right into his eyes. He plops his chin upon the edge of the table, his blue tunic slipping down one shoulder.

 He hasn’t thought about his family in a while. He wondered why that memory had come back to him suddenly. Probably, because lack of sleep? Or perhaps boredom? Or Perhaps he just misses them?

 “Hey, Lance?” Hunk calls.

 “Hmm, yeah.”

 “Are you going to share the cereal or what, man?” Huh? Oh, he had forgotten about the box of frosted flakes cradled in the crook of his arm.

 “Here.” he stifles a yawn, as he slides the box across the table.

 “By the way, your cereal is getting soggy.” Shiro chimes in, across from him. Oh. Yeah, cereal. He was supposed to be eating breakfast. Funny, he didn’t have much of appetite, seeing that he was practically starving, as he bound his way down the corridors and halls with an odd craving for Frosted Flakes.

 “I honestly, fail to see the point in this meal.” oh, yeah. His frown deepens, that’s why he didn’t have an appetite, as he glared at prince charming over his bowl; he was sitting next to Shiro, peering down at a box of of what he assumed was Raisin Bran. Who likes Raisin Bran in the first place?  Weird freaks like Lotor did.

 “Huh?” Hunk stopped, mid pour of the milk.  

 “Why you would pour this liquid substance over it, only for it to become unappetizing.”

 “I always wondered the same thing myself, when I was living on earth?” Krolia pipped in. Lance eyed the Galra woman, who sat three seats away from him, followed by Keith, and then Kolivan, who looked seriously out of place at the small table, picking at his bowl, of what appeared to also be Raisin Bran. Lance made a face.

 “You’re supposed to eat the cereal before it gets soggy.”

 “Then why not eat it dry?” Lotor flipped the box around, his eyes squinted as he tried to make out the foreign language on the back.

 “You can,” Hunk shrugged “but most people like it with milk.”

 “Is that, so?” Lotor trails off.

 “Humans are quite the odd creatures.”  

 “You mated one, Krolia.” Kolivan states, before finally taking a bite of the strange human concoction. Whether he liked it or not was anyone’s guess.

 “Hmm, I know.” Krolia lazily plop bits and pieces of dry cheerios into her mouth. Well, at least someone here has tastes, Lance thought to himself. Keith eyes his mother wearily, as he finishes off his frosted flakes.

 “What’s with the face, ~Loverboy~.” His attention snapped to the half-galra woman that was flanking his right at the table, he grimaces.

 “Nothing’s wrong with my face! My face is fine. Maybe you should check your face?” he pauses to glowered at her, grinding his teeth as he did, but she only offered him an ear-splitting smile in return “Can’t you sit anywhere else, but here.” he grumbled.

 Ezor stuck out her tongue “Nnnnopppe.”

 An odd, clipping sound caught his ear. Ah, he forgot about Narti, she was flanked at his left. Why did he feel like he was somehow being threatened, or cornered?

 “Narti wants to know why you’re in such a sour mood. Your usually so, annoyingly…. chipper.”

 “Well, you can tell~ Narti~, to mind her own business.”

 Narti lets out a chirping noise…...

 “Uh, huh…... What did she say?”

 Ezor flashed a strip of razor sharp teeth “Wouldn’t you like to now.” she snickers. Narti chirps again.

 Someone’s pulling his leg here, he groans.

 “......Morning, everyone!” and just when his morning was about to nose drive in complete suckery, Allura had finally risen and shined. Lance feels his heart flutter, tapping against his ribcage, as his gaze greets Allura’s disheveled form, her right palm pressed to her lips, and her robe slipping off her shoulders. She was like the living embodiment of light and stars itself. And like a moth to the flame, he could only bask in her glow.

 “Morning, Allura!” Pidge, Hunk, Shiro, and Keith mumbled, their voices still strained from sleep.

 “Morning, Princess.” Coran, and the rest replied in unison.

 “Lance are you alright? You look as if you fought more of a war, then had a good night’s rest.”

 “Ah, huh, ah you know me, Allura, not the morning person.” he replies, offhandedly. She offers him a kind smile. And once more his heart soars until-she turns to lean over and plant a kiss on Lotor’s cheek and makes a seat for herself in his lap. And like Icarus his heart plummets to the oceans depths.

 “Morning, Love.” she murmurs in his ear.

 “Oh!” he lifts an elegant brow “and what do I owe this pleasure.” he leans into her embrace, while she brushes his stupid, perfectly, silky hair away from his brow.

 “No reason.” she kisses the top of his hair, as he brings his free hand up to grasp her wrist, and kiss her palm.

 Lance quickly looks away to leer at his soggy bowl of frosted flakes all bloated, and gross. He presses a fist to his cheek, as he stirs his spoon through the mess of goop.

 “Oohhh, someone’s jellllyyy.” Ezor whispers through pressed lips, and Narti clips in agreement. Lance chose to ignore them.

 “Y’know it’s rude to put your elbows on the table, Lance.”

 “We're in space, Shiro, Earth rules don’t apply here.” he mutters, though his gaze is averted he could practically feel Shiro’s eyes roll.

 “Oh, we’re having that sugary stuff, today!” Allura clasps her hands together in glee.

 “I like the captain of planet crunch one!”

 “Captain of...Oh, you mean Captain Crunch! Coming right up, Princess!” Hunk winked.

 “It is quite delicious though, I’d do prefer it, if didn’t hurt my mouth after a while.” She frowns slightly. Lance can’t help, but find it endearingly cute…. his lips falter.

 It’s soon after, that, that Lance finds himself dissociating from the adamant conversations happening around him, he had longed given up tiring to eat anything, or talking to anybody. No matter what he did his gaze kept coming back to Allura. Watching her face light up, as she took a rather ravenous bite of her favorite cereal. Gosh, she was gorgeous. And lovely, and awesome and kind. However, his sense of bliss was soon washed away once more, as he remembered she was sitting on Lotor’s lap. With Lotor’s hand wrapped, tightly and possessively around her waist. With Lotor’s large fingers drumming against her clothed thigh, as he engaged in some boring-political debate with Kolivan, that he’ll never, nor wants to understand. Allura seems more interested in listening than she is in engaging, though she asks question here and there. Then again, it’s probably because the politics is more galra focused then anything……

 Lance huffs through his nose. It goes virtually unnoticed, or everyone just ignored his pity-party made for one. Why can’t they just sit like normal? And not flaunt their relationship in everybody’s face, Lance muses bitterly. He watches, as Allura, now finished with breakfast, slips her arms around Lotor’s neck, nuzzling her face into the crook of his throat, and shoulder. He hears her sigh, despite all the loud chatter. Her eyes flutter close, and content. She seems, so happy, so happy without him in the picture-Lance drops his spoon. It clinks against the porcelain, as he feels his heart drop, unceremoniously into the pit of his stomach.

 He pulls his chair out with a creek.

 “Whelp, I’m all finished!” he loudly announces, his arms stretched lazily, and pulled them behind his head. He does his best to leave the room with his dignity intact. And, so far, so good. No one questions him, as he strides out the door, and once it closes, the chatter commences once more.

 His arms drop to his sides, and it feels like his heart is literally breaking into pieces. Bit by bit. It suddenly feels harder to breath. His hands squeeze into fists, as he releases a shudder of breath, and swallows hard.

 Why him? Why does it have to be him, of all people?

 Why couldn’t it be me… He seethes. Why not me?

 He bites his cheek hard enough, he thinks he might have drawn blood.

So, what do you guys think? Comments, Reviews!? I had fun writing this one!  

[sapphicscholar]

A/N: Set in S2 before Cat’s end of season return but completely ignoring a certain alien who arrived in a pod and need not be included

Chapter Text:

Kara stared at the invitation in her hand, drumming her fingers against the countertop as she tried to figure out whether it was some kind of forgery—perhaps a Mischief Night prank that didn’t involve the usual toilet paper thrown across tree branches and eggs tossed at houses. Surely—surely, Cat’s way of reaching out after so many months away would involve more than an invitation to a Halloween party signed by both Carter and, Kara assumed, a rather begrudging Cat. She could at least that it was printed on cardstock as nice as the stuff Cat normally insisted upon, though it lacked the usual CatCo watermark.

As she debated the merits of reaching out to Cat to confirm that surely she had received the invitation by mistake, that surely Cat hadn’t returned from her many months away—months where Kara could have used her guidance, her advice, her help and, dare she say it, friendship—only to throw a Halloween party, her phone trilled.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Alex’s voice crackled through the line, the sound of Maggie calling out a greeting in the background. “I know you said something about using your day off for cleaning, but I wanted to see if you wanted some company for lunch.”

Kara grinned. It had taken a little while for Alex to find the right balance between her new relationship with Maggie and her existing commitments—and Kara certainly wouldn’t begrudge Alex her newfound happiness now that she was out and had come into her own, even if she sometimes missed how easy it used to be for Alex to drop everything and come over whenever she was feeling down—but they’d found a new balance. Kara had learned that it was no longer a good idea to swoop in through the large bay windows unannounced, and Alex had realized that, as much as she loved Maggie, they didn’t need to spend every second together for that level of commitment to still hold true. And now that she got along a bit better with Maggie, Kara found that she enjoyed having the couple over too, relishing in the chance to see Alex taking her advice to heart and letting herself be open to love and other people, to living that full, happy life she’d promised Kara she would try to find.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Kara agreed, figuring she could use a burst of superspeed to get the living room back in order in time for them to come over. Sure, it wasn’t the slow, methodical deep-cleaning she found soothed her anxiety when life felt like it was on just the wrong side of overwhelming, when she could have used nothing more than one of Cat’s slightly acerbic pep talks that always got right to the heart of just what was bothering her, but it would do.

“Perfect, we’ll pick up pizza and be there in twenty.”

With a quick goodbye, Kara put down the invitation to deal with at a later time and sped through the living room, distributing her newly organized piles into drawers and cabinets until the room looked perfectly clean. As she debated the merits of rearranging the furniture, she heard the sound of Alex and Maggie’s voices down the hallway. Swinging open the door before they could knock, Kara pulled them inside, hugging Alex as hard as she knew she could and letting the touch ground her in a way that few other things on this planet did.

“Damn, it looks so clean,” Maggie whistled, giving the apartment an appraising once over.

“So, what’d Snapper say this time?” Alex asked. She knew well enough from having shared a room with Kara over the years that things only reached this level of clean and organized when something was bothering her.

“Nothing.” Seeing Alex’s knowing look, Kara shrugged, her gaze dropping to her hands as she picked at her nails. “Just something about how I’m not getting better—I keep turning in the same biased op-eds when I’m supposed to be writing news.”

“Are you still covering the anti-alien attacks?”

“Yeah,” Kara admitted.

Stepping closer to her little sister and throwing an arm around her, Alex kissed her forehead. “Of course it’s hard for you to try to write only the facts when you’re this passionate. You know things and have experienced things that other journalists haven’t. And you know my offer to come threaten this bald little man still stands. Always.”

Kara snorted, shaking her head. “I should probably fight this one on my own.”

“If I know your sister—and I think I do—I know she’s not kidding about those offers. Plus, I prefer a pro-alien bias to my news,” Maggie added with a wink.

Figuring Kara could use more in the way of distraction and less discussion of Snapper, Alex motioned to the pizzas Maggie was still holding. “We come bearing food.”

“Did you get the garlic knots this time?”

“After the guilt trip we got last time, you really think we’d forget?” Alex teased, motioning for Maggie to drop the pizza off on the counter, while she pulled out plates and napkins.

“Ooh, what’s this?” Maggie asked, gesturing to the invitation left on the counter. “Got a Halloween party you’re not inviting us to?”

Plucking the invitation away from Maggie before Alex could see, Kara shook her head. “Nothing. Besides, you already have your big Halloween party.”

“Big gay Halloween party,” Maggie corrected.

“Well, I didn’t want to make assumptions.”

“No, that’s literally the name of the party. Well, party and drag show—which just makes the party better.”

“So what are you two going as?”

“We were supposed to be Danny and Sandy,” Alex began, narrowing her eyes as she looked at Maggie. “But someone decided she also wanted to be Danny.”

“Everyone knows gay Halloween is about looking cool, and leather jackets, skinny jeans, and white t-shirts are definitely the best way to do that.”

“It’s literally your outfit most days!”

“Because I’m super cool!”

Seizing the opportunity while Alex and Maggie were distracted, Kara dumped most of the garlic knots onto her plate and made her way over to the table.

“Not so quick!” Alex called out, rolling her eyes at Kara’s attempts to look innocent.

“If you want me to ignore the fact that you took most of our food, you should at least tell me who sent the invitation you’re trying so hard to hide.”

After a moment of debating whether it might be worth it to hand over one or two of her garlic knots, Kara finally admitted in a quiet voice: “Carter…and Cat.”

“Who?” Maggie asked, not yet well-versed in deciphering Kara’s mumbling.

“Cat Grant?” Alex asked, eying her sister incredulously. “What happened to her living in some yurt in the middle of the mountains?”

“I guess she came back. But I don’t know if it’s even real.”

“Well then let me see it.”

“No.”

“Why? Did she write you some special note with your invitation telling you about how smart and talented and astonishing you were?” Maggie looked slightly confused, but Alex kept going, teasing Kara as her cheeks flushed a light pink. “Or does she want you to dare and dive right into her Halloween party?”

“That sounds incredibly gay,” Maggie mused, watching as Kara flushed an even brighter shade of pink.

“She just signed it. I think Carter’s the one who actually wants me there.”

“What happened to your whole speech about how things between you and Cat had really changed? I distinctly remember you gushing about getting a promotion and an office and a hug and, oh god, how could I forget, she even used your real name!”

“Yeah, well, then she left,” Kara snapped, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. Cat had told her to dive and be brave, but she’d left her alone; she wasn’t there waiting on the shore to call out encouragement or help her know in which direction to swim. Instead she’d thrown her off the ledge and left her, and Kara didn’t feel like she was thriving and coming out a new and better version of herself; instead she felt like Icarus, launched into the sky with encouragement that melted and burned up into nothingness as Cat’s guiding hands—the words and wisdom that kept her from flying too close to the sun—vanished with barely a warning.

Maggie busied herself with finding drinks in the kitchen while Alex wrapped Kara up in her arms. “I doubt that’s what she meant to do.”

Kara sniffled, letting Alex hold her the way she had when she first made her way to the Danvers home—a lost kid without a planet, without a family, without even the mission and sense of purpose that had driven her this far. “It’s what happened, though.”

“I know. And it sucks. Trust me, I’m not Cat’s biggest fan.” Kara snorted at that understatement. Alex had loathed the woman through Kara’s entire first year at CatCo, and on more than one occasion had been ready to storm in and demand the CEO treat her sister better. “But…I can admit that by the end of it, she did right by you. And I’m sure that somehow in that perfectly styled head of hers, she thinks she was doing right by you by leaving too.”

“How? How could that possibly be helping me?”

“I thought I was helping you by encouraging you not to come out as Supergirl,” Alex shrugged, her attempt at nonchalance belied by the haunted look in her eyes, her guilt still evident even now when she knew Kara had forgiven her for doing what she thought was necessary for her protection.

“I guess.”

“So, why don’t you tell us more about this party?” Alex motioned for Maggie, who was still lingering in the kitchen, to come back and join them.

“I don’t even know what it is. It’s tomorrow night at Cat’s beach house. Apparently costumes are mandatory.”

“So you’re going, right?” Alex asked at the same time as Maggie wiggled her eyebrows and asked, “So is it a date?”

“Excuse me?” Alex and Kara exclaimed in unison.

“She told you how amazing you were. She invited you to dive into her waters or something gay like that.”

“Just dive,” Kara corrected, ignoring Alex’s wide eyes.

“Still super gay. And then the first thing she does when she gets back in town is to invite you to some party at her house. And not her National City apartment, but her house out on the coast, where she totally could have hidden herself away if she didn’t want her employees or anyone to know she was back.”

“I—I don’t think it’s like that,” Kara insisted, shaking her head as if to convince herself that the suggestion was ridiculous. Had she harbored a crush on the woman for a while now? Sure. But that was only natural—she was freakin’ Cat Grant. She was gorgeous and successful and brilliant. Who wouldn’t have a crush on her? But the idea that Cat might like her back? Well, that was just ludicrous.

“Plus, Cat’s straight,” Alex added. “She’s been married multiple times—and always to men.”

“So were you, sweetie,” Maggie reminded Alex, flashing a shit-eating grin up at her. “Besides, who knows, maybe she’s bi or pan or just head over heels in love with National City’s resident superhero.”

“I don’t think she knows I’m Supergirl—we convinced her that Kara and Supergirl were two different people.”

Maggie kept her mouth shut, though she couldn’t quite disguise the skeptical expression. She couldn’t imagine how a woman as astute as Cat Grant who worked in such close proximity to Kara and covered every single daring exploit of Supergirl’s wouldn’t be able to put two and two together, but she’d learned that it was better to let the Danvers women admit to these things on their own timeline.

“But you’re going, right? Why would you give up the opportunity to see her after all that time away?”

“I don’t know…what if she doesn’t really want to see me?”

“I might not know the woman as well as you do, but I don’t think Cat Grant is the type to let someone make decisions for her—especially if she really doesn’t want to do something.”

“Carter’s always been her weak spot.”

“Still, mothers have a way of laying down the law if it’s something genuinely important.”

“I guess.”

“So you should go,” Maggie declared, smiling and folding her hands in front of her as thought the matter were perfectly settled.

“I don’t have a costume…” Kara trailed off, looking nervous at the excited glint in Maggie’s eyes.

“Don’t you worry, little Danvers. Cat won’t believe what hit her!”

---

The next night, Kara paced nervously up and around the block one over from Cat’s beach house. She tugged down her jean shorts and shirt, feeling like even the more appropriate version of Harley Quinn’s costume was still quite a bit skimpier than she liked—though she’d chosen it in a heartbeat over the proffered spandex Catwoman suit, knowing better than to wear anything Cat-themed around Cat. She swung the baseball bat by her feet until the wood creaked under her grip, releasing it before the whole thing could splinter and leave her with an incomplete costume. Noting a large group of guests pulling up in front of Cat’s place, Kara sprinted to catch up with them, hoping she could blend in and slip into the party relatively unnoticed. Maybe she could just go say hi to Carter and then hightail it out of there…

As she watched the SUV unload, though, she saw only a group of kids Carter’s age, followed by a mere two adults—one of whom was dressed normally, while the other simply wore a witch hat overtop of a perfectly normal, decidedly “mom” outfit. Kara gulped, feeling every bit the part of Elle Woods in a costume that suddenly felt much too revealing, even if she’d flown past much skimpier costumes on her way over. Deciding it would be better to go in alone than have to face judgmental parents, Kara waited until the kids had settled in and the parents had driven away before slipping over to the front door and ringing the bell. After a moment, it swung open, revealing Carter dressed as a bow-tied Dr. Who complete with a Tardis friend, who ran off as soon as he realized the guest wasn’t another kid from their class.

He beamed and threw his arms around her as soon as he realized who it was. “Kara! You made it!”

“Of course, bud! How could I miss it?”

“Well, I know we sent your invitation a little late…I got worried…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Really,” Kara insisted. “I’m sure as a timelord, you have plenty of other very important things to worry about.”

Looking bashful, Carter dropped his gaze down before realizing they were still in the doorway. “Oh! Come in!”

Kara stepped in and shut the door behind her, looking around as she took in the house she hadn’t visited in what felt like ages.

“Mom’s down in the kitchen. The games are downstairs, but it’s mainly the kids.”

Kara took a few deep breaths before finally leaning in and whispering, “Do you think your mom knows I’m coming?”

Carter shrugged. “She thought you might have better things to do, which is why she told me not to send an invitation.”

Kara nodded, steeling herself to go surprise Cat, knowing full well Cat hated surprises.

“I think she wanted you here though,” Carter added, shrugging and looking too wise for his age, as though he could see every one of Kara’s fears written on her face.

“Well, wish me luck. Have fun tonight, Carter!”

“You too!”

Figuring now was as good of a time as any, Kara squared her shoulders and marched back into the kitchen. She found Cat with her back to the doorway, sitting on one of the barstools and looking out over the ocean. “This isn’t quite the yurt I expected,” Kara managed, grateful that her voice had remained fairly steady.

With a wry laugh, Cat spun around, freezing for a moment at the sight of her former assistant in an outfit that was a far cry from the Old Navy Cardigans and ill-fitting pants she normally wore. “Decide to play a villain for a change?”

“For a change?” Kara asked with a strained laugh.

“Mm, still playing with that old charade,” Cat muttered before speaking up. “Can I offer you anything? Glass of wine? Scotch?”

“Wine would be nice, thank you.”

Cat filled a glass and handed it over before settling back down onto the stool as the room descended into an uneasy silence.

Finally Kara broke the tension. “Why are you back?”

“Is a Halloween party not enough of a reason?”

Feeling emboldened, Kara simply arched an eyebrow in return.

“Fine. There were…perhaps, a few things I’d left unfinished in National City. And before I move into the next stage of my own diving, as it were, I thought it best to come back.”

“So are you coming back to CatCo?”

“No, no,” Cat shook her head. “Those weren’t the things I left unfinished.”

“No, you just left me there,” Kara mumbled, quickly covering her mouth with her glass as she sipped her wine.

“Left you there? Kara, I left you in a job I knew you would excel at under the direction of one of the best in the business.”

“He’s hard to handle,” Kara retorted.

“So am I.”

“It’s different.”

“He’ll make you into a seasoned reporter.”

“He’s not you!” Kara finally snapped, blushing a faint shade of pink but refusing to back down. “He wasn’t the mentor I needed when everything else was already changing.”

“Kiera—”

“It’s Kara. I know you know.”

“But you’re still going to pretend like you’re only Kara?”

Kara clenched her jaw. “What do you want me to tell you?”

“The truth.”

“Why? So you can fire me again? Abandon me again?”

With a deep breath, Cat gestured to the door that led to the small balcony overlooking the ocean. “It’s not quite 40 stories up, but the view compares.” Kara followed Cat out onto the balcony, perching her wine glass on the railing as she leaned over, breathing in the salty sea breeze.

“I—my reaction was not, perhaps, ideal.” Kara bit back a snort. “I thought that, after all the time we spent together, after how I had tried to support Supergirl, how I had tried to support you, even if I didn’t always show it in the best of ways, that you might trust me enough to tell me.”

“It’s not that simple.” Kara knew the implicit admission was there, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, knowing Cat knew, knowing she was simply waiting for the confirmation.

“After Myriad I think I understand that better. But I was hurt, and so I lashed out. I’m sure Lois or Adam or any number of my ex-husbands could tell you it’s what I do best.”

“It’s not—no, Cat, it’s not all that you are.”

“Cat, is it?”

“If we’re dropping the charade…”

“I suppose Supergirl already calls me Cat, why shouldn’t Harley Quinn get the same privilege,” Cat mused, the corner of her mouth curling up slightly.

Kara rolled her eyes but felt some of the tension ease out of her shoulders. It wasn’t just a repeat of how things were before; Cat knew—she knew and she wasn’t yelling, wasn’t firing her. Of course, there wasn’t the same charged moment of reveal—the slow removing of her glasses and awestruck expression, the soft smile and whispered thank you that left Cat close enough to touch, to kiss…

Pulling herself out of her musings, Kara shook her head. “Where’s your costume? What happened to them being mandatory?”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, this is primarily a party for Carter’s classmates.”

“Is he doing better with making friends?”

Cat couldn’t help the soft smile; it was so like Kara to be thinking about Carter even now. “You know, his adventures with Supergirl helped to bolster his confidence. And being able to say he hugged the Girl of Steel did win him over a few admirers.”

“I do give pretty excellent hugs.”

Cat couldn’t quite help the way her mind drifted to a few other things the Girl of Steel might do exceptionally well. “Mm, yes, they were adequate.”

Kara bit back a smile and shook her head slightly. “So, if this was mainly a party for Carter’s friends, why am I here?”

“I think he likes to think you two are friends.”

“Fine, but he knew I wouldn’t be down in the basement with him and his classmates.”

“No…I think he knew that—that I wanted to see you too.”

“Just to confirm the things you already knew?” Kara asked, her voice a bit lower, knowing she was slipping into uncharted territory, knowing she could send things careening off course in all the worst of ways, but unable to find it within herself to stop. She was Icarus flying toward the sun once more, only this time, she suspected, flying close enough to its orbit might destroy her and remake her in one go in the best of ways.

“There was a part of me that wanted to know if you might tell me now—now that I’m not your boss, won’t be your boss, won’t even own CatCo anymore in a few short months.”

“What?” Kara gasped.

“It’s neither here nor there—simply part of my own diving into new waters.”

Seeing the determination not to delve into that particular subject at the moment, Kara pressed: “So you know now. Is that all you wanted?”

“If you’re still asking, I think you know it isn’t.”

“So why is it that you wanted to see me, if not just to confirm that I am exactly the person you always hoped I was?”

“You’ve always been her, Kara. It didn’t take that suit to make you exceptional.”

“So why, Cat?”

“I told you, I left certain things unfinished here. I left certain things unsaid…” Kara looked up at her expectantly, stepping just a little closer, leaving a scant few inches between them. “I can’t be the only one to dive here. I can’t be the one to push you into diving for me, either.”

Smiling softly at Cat’s consideration, Kara inched closer, nearly closing the distance between them. “Then dive with me.”

Before Cat could make a snarky remark about that metaphor becoming a bit overdone, Kara was leaning forward, and she felt herself drawn to her by some sort of inexorable pull. The soft press of lips was somehow more than she had ever imagined it might be, and as Kara let herself relax, let her strong arms slip around Cat’s small waist and pull her closer, Cat found her hands cupping at Kara’s jaw, drawing her in and kissing her deeper. The taste of expensive red wine and cheap Halloween candy mingled with something that was undeniably Kara, and Cat felt dizzy with the thrill of it all. As Kara’s tongue flicked across her lower lip, she couldn’t help the small whimper—a noise that seemed to inspire Kara as she swept Cat off her feet and into her arms.

“If you’re taking me upstairs, I want that ridiculous outfit gone.”

“Outside? Seems a little inappropriate, Ms. Grant,” Kara teased, ignoring the eyeroll and using her free hand to at least pull her hair from the high pigtails, letting it cascade into soft waves that Cat soon tangled her hand in, pulling the woman forward once more. “Is that good enough to earn a place upstairs with you?”

“It’ll do. Now come on, Supergirl, up, up, and away.”

[vvardenfellcat]

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. Don’t reblog.

Stolen from uh...lots of people at this point. Took me a while to get to it. @aglitchinemotion finally got my booty in gear tho.

WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE(S)?

I have a few... Though it’s more of ‘hey these two/three/etc would be cute and actually get along and heeeeyyyy that might actually work in canon! I wonder...

Nothing’s canon yet for TES!J’hasi, though Aldaril and Morwaen have a one-sided thing going on atm. Mori, pls...show the poor mer some mercy...

Modern!TES AU J’hasi, Maarzi, and Jeer-Rah are a thing, Al and Morwaen are a thing, Icarus and mead is a thing... All the ships. Welcome to my self-indulgent paradise.

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO RP WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?

Depends on how well I know you. Unless you’re Paige I doubt it would go further than fade to black after smooches and whatnot. I’ve started writing the Porns™ to try and see if I like doing it/find it worthwhile, and while I enjoy the emotionally-connected ones, the stand of the night type ones aren’t fun to me. Still have to issue copies to Quality Control to determine their Hot Stuff merit.

TL;DR full blown prons are doubtful unless I’m really close friends with the mun first, else varies between No and fade-to-black depending on how well I know the mun.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Under 18 is a Hell No, TES is uh...weird with people living hundreds of years and yet some only 80ish or w/e so I guess it depends on how old they seem? Mer, man. Can’t get a good bead on em agewise. I suppose if there’s like a huge gap like Mr. 800 years old shacking up with someone around 400 that would be weird to me. A hundred years gap wouldn’t be too bad assuming the younger is like...30s? 40s? At least. Mid 20s would be the lowest I’d go with something like that, and even then that’s pushing it. Two hundred gap would be ehh...and anything beyond that is sort of a ‘how is each individual case like’?

Modern AU (aka not TES Modern AU) I guess like 10 ish gap is the most? Not much higher than that because then you get weird things of like ‘oh I was a teenager when you were born’ stuff and that rubs me the wrong way.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

I mean I’m a bit selective with rping, like...I can’t up and ship with someone if I don’t know them. And yes, that has happened in the past and it made me not want to ship ever again because someone didn’t know/didn’t care that it’s not cool to write my character for me. And horribly OOC too. Yuck.

Honestly we’d have to be mutuals for a while before I’d be okay with shipping. Especially if it was J’hasi because LET ME TELL YOU THAT BOY FEEL TOO GOTDAMN MUCH FOR HIM GOTDAMN HEART. And yeah they have to have chemistry. And while most of my characters are more easygoing with the romance and boinking stuff, J’hasi is one of those that’s hard to get to that point because Trust Issues and whatnot. Anyone’s welcome to try, just know that we’d have to know each other and the muses in question would have to have some chemistry before anything progresses beyond verbal sparring.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS.FW?

Once someone goes beyond the belt, that’s the point that I’d say yeah that’s nsfwy-stuffs. Smooches and whatnot are safes, making out, etc, but once someone starts digging around in the other’s pants then yeah that’s a decent marker. I’d likely readmore it once it got beyond smooches for sake of people who don’t want to read two muses fooling around with each other but it wouldn’t get the NSFW tag until aforementioned marker.

WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH?

I thought I was asked this before x_x UHHHHMMM usually it’s more of ‘who’s possible’, since I don’t set anything in stone until the characters meet in RP. I may misread a character and then the ship would be weird once I learn my mistake, so I tend to ask lots of questions of the person in question like ‘if x met y and they did z, how would they react?’ I do this with situations outside of shipping too because I LIKE LEARNING ABOUT CHARACTERS MANG.

Private ships are private ships, usually self-indulgent whatever to help me practice writing interpersonal communication and possibly sexytiems so I can learn what sounds natural because it’s a new type of writing for me, same as when I was first learning how to write actiony stuffs and MAJOR DOOM plots and whatever. The pronoun game kills me because 90% of it is gay. Maarzi and her gf Riheh is one of my fave ships because MAARZI IS SUCH A FUCKING TEASE AND THEN RIHEH CATCHES HER OFF-GUARD CONSTANTLY AND I LOVE THEM.

...I just realized I haven’t done any straight NSFW yet aside from that thread with Moj and Sham. I should...probably remedy that. Oops.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

I’m fine with your character feeling as they will, it’s your character, that’s how they do. It’s when you try to push it onto my character without asking for permission that I get irritated. Like by all means, a character can make passes at mine, flirt, w/e, that’s totally fine. It’s when someone thinks that because my muse reacts a certain way back that they think it’s canon then, which. No. You ask me.

Sometimes my characters flirt back because that’s just how they are. They might be trying to use your muse’s apparent interest to suit their needs. Muses may not explain their reasoning for acting x way, so it’s better to ask me to see if it’s genuine ‘ay let’s ship’ vs ‘my character is using yours to get out of a situation or for their own selfish gain’. Plus, if I don’t know you, a ship isn’t going to happen. I need to know the mun before I make any commitments.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?

I’m with Dust!mod on this one, when it makes sense. I’m not romantically inclined irl, so it’s not like I Need it, it’s just something fun and new to play with, like when you get a new toy. You have lots of other toys, and that’s yet another you have at your disposal. Say that you think that the situation would be more exciting if Mr. Dinosaur came in and interrupted the tea party with some dire news from the front, or maybe he wants to confess that he loves Mr. Sheep and doesn’t want Mr. Sheep to elope with Tonka Truck, or that Tonka Truck was actually using Mr. Sheep for his billions in assets to make war on the Hot Wheels regime. It could be integral to the plot, or just give another facet to it, adding some extra drama to the Shit Going Down. The world is your oyster, friend.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?

Nnnnnnah. I tried AU stuff with other fandoms, didn’t like, and I don’t need multiple verses of the same TES verse to handle. Not to mention like...why would you multiship when you can have polyamory? Way easier imo. Imagine the cuddlepiles. The only exception I have for this is Modern!TES but that’s more of ‘this is my self-indulgent paradise, I’ll make everyone hold hands if I want to’, and that’s...kinda my personal verse since I haven’t really talked about it much and I don’t think other people would be into it lmao

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

If it’s friends, lovers, rivals, sworn enemies, whatever relationship a muse has with another, it’s all good in my book. It’s great to have character-developing interactions no matter how it’s brought about, if your friend is concerned about x habit you have, or if you got the hots for some new friend on the block, or if you can’t fucking stand your new co-worker/peer, or someone decided that You Need To Die For X Reason And You Just Won’t Go Quietly.

I don’t hold any over the others in terms of importance, like sometimes I’m more in the mood for rival battles, sometimes I just want nerds to cuddle and read together. It just depends on what mood I’m in for at the moment.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

Uhhhhhh I can’t think of any atm. I get a stupid grin on my face when me and @brothersofthedominion come up with ideas for our plots involving a giant golden boy and a srs golden girl, but my current favorite ship that I think about a lot is stuck in self-indulgent paradise world.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

I gotta know who tf you are first. Ask interactions are good for this, because then it unlocks the possibility of rps, which then once I have a good idea of who you are, then there’s a chance of shipping. Else it’s gonna end up being your muse tryna flirt with mine with little chance of getting anywhere other than flirting back or in J’hasi’s case, likely a big fat |:/