#already have an eclipse theme planned

[cero-sleep]

Any milagro masked dragon themes y'all would like to see in a raffle?

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.  

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

��You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

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[snowleopardcrk]

more symbolism!!!

ah yes, more Midnight Lily, a silverbell cameo and two Moonflower doodles. AU by @cuppajj

For Moonflowers story, we have her main conflict with her father, Saint Vanilla Cookie. But what about Midnight Lily Cookie, her mother? To give a little context for whats coming up, Moonflowers story theming around the Saint where Moonflower symbolizes the Moon, which includes the Solar Eclipse to contrast the Saints light themed imagery. Plus Moonflowers additional and more religious theming being based on the Spirit of Apostasy.

It is abundantly clear that Midnight Lily is an enabler of the other Neo Beasts, while to some extent understandable as she is the weakest of the Neo Beasts (she has long crossed the line of it being acceptable).

To compliment well with the general religious theming, I did additional research into the role of a mother in the lens of the Bible. 'the mother is one who "binds" the family together, holding them together individually and collectively through her love and actions' Despite how broken the family is, the only remaining connection that Moonflower has with the Saint IS Midnight Lily. And in return, she does care for her daughter and the Saint at some level. Yet, she does nothing to genuinely mend what has been broken (no one is, Moonflower is afraid of her father and the Saint is so delusional that he believes that this is the best course of action to save everyone). This fits her pattern of enabling and being generally passive to the world around her, for the most part.

Another aspect that I have neglected to mention is her slow-burn of a plan, she seeks by the end to have the others at least playing by her rules, but also not liking when her children do things she does not like. This is now territory where I do a lot of guess work and personal thoughts n' research so this is very much subject to change if anymore gets revealed.

How I have understood the few tidbits we get about the Beast of Sovereignty, she is an enabler and insecure about being the weakest. And I think her insecurity in some way, even if unintentional may reflect on her relationships where she is the one in power. In general, she is fine with her kids, generally passive until they get too unruly. At that point, she will remind them with harsh words who the mother is. I'd like to note quickly, she will NEVER get physical. She only uses WORDS. It is also important to note that she does wish for her child to understand where she is coming from. She is an enabler because she holds little power over the beasts, but in dynamics where she is the one in power, this side vanishes for the most part. Despite valuing sovereignty I believe she still wants to retain some level of control so Cookies don't do things she does not like. This is generally in line with how leadership generally operate, they don't care when you're doing smth positive, but when it turns negative, that's when it starts turning sour.

As for the actual arc of Midnight Lily and Moonflower, I have a general framing but it is difficult to make something as substantial as the one she has with Saint Vanilla. Gotta wait until I get more lore and story for the gal. But in short, it is a conflict of the two trying to make each other understand their respective sides. With Moonflower trying to save her mother, her only remaining parental figure from being a beast- while Midnight Lily seeks to make Moonflower truly understand her side and hopefully have Moonflower join her permanently.

Heres other tidbits for Moonflower and her relationship with the Creme Republic. For her ventures to the Silver Kingdom are actually secret. She is a very powerful and talented magic user (similar to her parents), so her travelling long distances quickly is very possible. Moonflower is already an outcast in the Republic, it is well known who her parents are. And Cookies keep their distance, there are very few Cookies who come and check in her. Its mostly some scientists who are researching the neo beasts (espresso, maybe, depends on his condition in this au), Clotted Cream Cookie, GingerBrave, Financer (sort of, she tags along the Consul) and depending on the direction of the story, Madelaine Cookie(I will start really brewing something here once more stuff comes out~). She stays isolated in her lab in the undercity, she never comes out, and when she does, she hides her face and just retrieves things like food or research material. It is normal for her to not talk with anyone for well over a week with nothing but a single lost Raisin Crow to keep her company. I'd like to note that this raisin crow is now an albino, and Black Raisin tasked Moonflower to take care of it since it was bullied and ousted by the other raisin crows (I took inspo from the myth, but it is generally agreed that white color corvids are subordinate to the colored ones).

But she is also an outcast in the silver kingdom, despite being Midnight Lilys kid (its a well known fact), she has gotten into disagreements with their monarch and isn't the upmost loyal member- she has a strong stigma around her. Silverbell Cookie does take pity on Moonflower.

That's all for now. I'm gonna lay down, I've done so much research...I silently weep at the thought of fully showing the complexity of the three in full force.

[angelremnants]

Between Strength & Style l L. Laufeyson

PART TWO.⠀...AND LIFTING MEETS DESIRE..

summary : Loki’s probationary stint with the Avengers takes a surprising turn when Thor insists on dragging him to the team’s fluorescent-lit gym—a place he deems far beneath his dignity. His disdain shifts the moment you stride in with effortless confidence, transforming the mundane gym into your personal runway, commanding the room and worse, directly challenging his ego. Determined not to be overshadowed, Loki initiated a playful competition, vying to outshine you as the gym’s reigning fashionista. Yet, what began as irritation soon evolved into intrigue—and an electric chemistry taking place between you and forcing him to confront not only your undeniable allure but also his own battle for self-control. The only question left was: how many Fridays would pass before one of you finally caves in?

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (18+—MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), slow burn, eventual romance, eventual smut, sexual tension & innuendos (lots of it), extremely suggestive content, some graphic fantasies, flirting & teasing, emotional conflict, strong language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 20.2k

author's notes : It always seems that whenever I set out to write a two-shot, a third one always ends up peaking its head. However, I promise that the next and final part will focus on a long, graphic, and unapologetically sinful smut. Truth be told, its scenario is already planned; I just need to put it all together on paper.

In the meantime, here's the continuation of Loki and his darling, who are both complete, sexually frustrated idiots and can’t resist taunting each other as their form of aggressive flirting.

(ao3 version)

⠀

The Friday gym reunions had undeniably spiraled into something far beyond their original purpose. What should have been a straightforward workout session had evolved into a full-blown theater of absurdity—a weekly unscheduled spectacle of clashing egos and sharper-than-steel wits. And at the center of it all stood Loki. Naturally.

The gym was buzzing, its usual hum of machinery and clatter of weights eclipsed by the palpable tension in the air. The room itself, sterile with its fluorescent lights and dull grey walls, was wholly unworthy of the drama that unfolded within it, yet it served as the perfect stage.

And the spectacle? Oh, it wasn’t just between the two of you anymore. No, your little rivalry had become something of a legend around the installation. What had started as harmless banter and subtle challenges had escalated into something so magnetic that it drew an audience every week. From agents to staff, everyone whispered about it. About the mischief-maker and the defiant contender, locking horns like some modern-day myth.

The Avengers themselves had taken notice, watching from the sidelines with varying degrees of amusement. Rumor had it that bets were now circulating—some on who would break first, others on who would escalate the stakes further. Tony Stark, naturally, spearheaded the betting pool, gleefully collecting wagers and throwing in his cheeky commentary. 

“So, who do you think’s gonna crack first?” The self-made genius leaned against the wall with a practiced nonchalance, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the scene with a smirk. His eyes glinted with merriment, as if he were enjoying a private show. “I’ve got ten bucks on Rock of Ages. The guy’s a walking disaster zone. You know he can’t help himself—whether it’s stirring the pot or keeping it in his pants.”

Sam Wilson, ever the provocateur, grinned as he adjusted the Velcro on his gloves. “Nah, you’re on, Stark. I’m betting on [Y/N]. I mean, seriously, have you seen the way she looks at him? It’s like watching a countdown to an explosion. She’ll snap before Loki even knows what hit him.”

Tony smirked, shifting his weight against the wall. “Nah, Tweety, you’ve got it backward. My money’s still on him. He’s like a walking ego trip—he won’t stop until he’s the center of her universe. And let’s be honest, he’s not exactly subtle about it.”

Bucky snorted, adjusting the weights on his barbell. “You guys seriously underestimate her. She’s got more self-control than all of us combined. If anyone’s gonna break first, it’s Loki. Trust me on this one, Loki’s the one walking the edge.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, really? And what’s your bet, then? That she’s gonna keep her cool while he spirals into one of his melodramatic fits?”

Bucky shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Something like that. She’s too level-headed to let him get under her skin—at least not in the way he’s hoping. Loki’s gonna be the one who can’t handle it when the tables turn.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, man. Have you seen the way she looks at him when he’s pulling one of his stunts? It’s like she’s deciding whether to throttle him or kiss him. My money says throttle.”

The billionaire wasn’t having it. “Come on, Barnes. You’ve seen her. Whenever he pulls that whole ‘smooth criminal’ act, you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she fights not to roll her eyes. It’s like watching someone wrestle a hurricane.”

Sam chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against a nearby column. “I’m sticking to my call—she’s gonna fold first. She’s already hanging by a thread. Loki thrives on the chaos, and let’s face it—she’s the perfect fuel for his fire. I mean, come on, she’s probably the only one getting off on telling him to shut up.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the barbell and settling onto the bench. “You guys are ridiculous. This isn’t some rom-com. She’s not gonna fall for his games, and he’s not gonna win whatever twisted competition he thinks they’re having.”

Sam grinned, nudging Tony with his elbow. “We’ll see, man. We’ll see.”

The gym door swung open suddenly, and the chatter died instantly as the god of mischief sauntered in with his signature swagger. It was as if the very air shifted to accommodate him, growing heavier with an almost theatrical tension. He didn’t just walk into the room; he commanded it, his dark leather boots clicking softly against the polished floor with the precision of an orchestra’s opening note.

“Gentlemen,” he drawled, his voice a rich, velvety purr that seemed to coat every syllable with smug satisfaction. He leaned against the doorframe, one ankle crossed casually over the other, and surveyed the room like a monarch appraising his court. “I couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation. How terribly entertaining it is to know you spend so much time obsessing over me. Tell me—what would you all do without my dazzling presence?”

Tony, unimpressed, barely looked up from where he was fiddling with his smartwatch. “Probably get some peace and quiet for once,” he quipped, his tone dry but playful. “But hey, where’s the fun in that?”

Loki’s grin widened, shark-like and infuriatingly self-assured. “Ah, but peace is so dreadfully dull, isn’t it?” he countered smoothly, pushing off the doorframe and strolling further into the room. His presence seemed to expand as he moved, drawing the attention of everyone present without effort. 

“No excitement, no discord, no… amusement,” he added, letting his eyes flicker over each of them before landing on Sam, his grin turning predatory. “And as for your little gossip regarding my dear [Y/N]… rest assured, she’s already under my spell. It’s only a matter of time before she succumbs to her undeniable attraction to me.”

Bucky scoffed at the declaration. “Man, you’re cocky. You really think she’s just gonna roll over and swoon?”

Loki’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, I don’t think—I know. The lady simply needs time to come to terms with the inevitable. Resistance, after all, is futile.”

Sam let out a bark of laughter, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who still thinks capes are sexy.”

Loki arched a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow, the picture of aloof elegance. “Capes are timeless,” he replied, a gleam of mischief in his eye. “And as for confidence… I simply speak the truth. She will come to see it soon enough.”

Bucky muttered under his breath as he pushed the barbell up. “You’re delusional.”

Loki’s sharp gaze flicked toward him, but his smirk remained firmly in place. “Indeed, Barnes, I stand here—utterly delusional, and yet, undeniably irresistible.”

Sam slapped his thigh, grinning wide. “This is gonna be good. Can't wait to rub that win in your faces.”

Before the conversation could escalate further, the heavy creak of the door sounded again. All heads turned as Steve Rogers entered, his upright posture and steely gaze cutting through the buzzing tension like a knife. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and the room shifted, the previously lighthearted atmosphere thickening with a hint of unease. Steve’s sharp blue eyes swept across the group, taking in the smirks, folded arms, and barely stifled grins, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“What is this?” Steve demanded, his deep voice laced with disapproval. “You’re betting on who’s going to crack first? Really? What are you, a bunch of high schoolers?”

Tony, as usual, remained completely unfazed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk that bordered on outright defiance. “Come on, Cap. It’s harmless. We’re just having a little fun. You know, team bonding and all that jazz.” He gestured vaguely to the others, clearly trying to pass off the situation as innocent.

Steve’s eyes narrowed as they landed on Loki, who had strategically moved to the edge of the room, leaning against the wall in a pose that screamed insufferable smugness. The faintest trace of a smirk curled on Loki’s lips, his entire demeanor practically daring Steve to confront him. “Laufeyson,” Steve said, his voice low and heavy with warning. “I can’t say I expected better from you, but you’re supposed to be focusing on your probation. Not... whatever this is.”

Loki didn’t miss a beat, straightening slightly as he pushed off the wall with an almost feline grace. “Ah, Rogers, always the paragon of virtue,” he said smoothly, his voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “But I assure you, this is all in good fun. After all, what is life without a little… competition?” His sharp green eyes sparkled mischievously, and for a moment, it looked as though he might outright laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. His sense of righteousness was clearly battling with his growing exasperation—and the faintest hint of amusement he seemed determined to suppress. “It’s not about participating in this childish behavior,” he said firmly, though the weariness in his tone betrayed him. “I’m trying to make a point.”

Before he could say more, Tony pushed a crisp five-dollar bill toward him with a wide, knowing grin. “Come on, Star-Spangled Man,” he coaxed, his tone both teasing and strangely persuasive. “You can’t resist. You’re curious now, aren’t you? Just throw a little something down. I guarantee you won’t regret it.”

Steve hesitated, his sharp gaze darting between the group and the smirking god of mischief still lounging nearby. His lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled heavily, reaching into his pocket. A crumpled ten-dollar bill emerged, and with what could only be described as reluctant resignation, he tossed it onto the table. “This is nonsense,” he muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with reluctant mirth. “I’m doing these sessions for the team. Not for this nonsense.” His piercing gaze landed on Loki, the unspoken warning in his expression clear.

Loki’s smirk widened, his entire demeanor dripping with unbothered confidence. He stepped closer, his long coat swishing slightly as he leaned toward Steve. “Oh, how very noble of you, Rogers,” he mocked lightly, his voice laced with exaggerated politeness. “You’re not participating for the thrill of it, of course. No, no—you’re simply maintaining the moral high ground. How very... heroic. Rest assured, your wagers are well-placed when they rest upon my incomparable charm.” His smirk deepened, practically daring Steve to react.

Steve’s incredulous expression spoke volumes. “Charm?” he repeated, his voice laden with skepticism. “You’re not charming anyone, buddy. This is ridiculous.”

Sam, leaning back in his seat with an arm casually draped over the chair, grinned widely. “Oh, I don’t know, Cap. The guy lives for drama, and let’s face it—we do too.”

The room suddenly seemed to shift again as heavy, purposeful footsteps echoed from the hallway. The doorway darkened as Thor entered, his large frame and imposing presence commanding attention. His storm-blue eyes scanned the room, landing squarely on his brother with a mixture of irritation and faint amusement. “Loki,” Thor boomed, his deep voice reverberating through the room. “What is this nonsense? Are you planning to court Lady [Y/N], or are you simply making a fool of yourself again?”

The room went silent, the air thick with anticipation. All eyes turned to Loki, whose smirk faltered for the briefest of moments before he recovered, his expression once again unreadable. Straightening his posture, he turned to Thor with an air of mock innocence. “Ah, brother,” he began, his voice as smooth as silk, “you misunderstand me entirely. I’m not courting her—I’m merely ensuring she is... aware of my presence.”

Sam burst out laughing, earning a sharp glance from Loki. “Oh yeah? That’s what you’re calling it?” Sam teased, his grin practically splitting his face. “You might wanna rethink your ‘not-courting’ strategy, dude.”

Bucky, who had been quietly observing the exchange, leaned back in his seat with a smirk of his own. “If I were the damsel,” he remarked dryly, “I’d be looking for someone with a little less flair for the dramatic.”

Thor crossed his arms, his biceps bulging slightly as he stared down at his younger brother. “If this is your idea of a competition,” he said with a sigh, his tone laced with both disapproval and faint beguilement, “you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning sharp. “Oh, it’s not a competition, dear brother,” he replied smoothly, his tone bordering on smug. “Merely a game. A harmless game. But rest assured, as always—I intend to win.” His piercing green gaze locked with Thor’s, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy in the air.

His piercing green eyes locked with Thor’s stormy blue gaze, the intensity of his stare unyielding. It wasn’t just a challenge; it was a declaration. The air between them seemed to spark, charged with the weight of unspoken words communicated by the likes of subconscious telepathy. Loki stood poised, his lithe frame radiating confidence, as though he were a predator savoring the anticipation of the hunt.

Thor, towering and broad-shouldered, tilted his head slightly, his eyebrow lifting in skeptical defiance. “A game?” he repeated, his deep voice tinged with incredulity as it rose slightly, the rich timbre of it filling the room. “And what, pray tell, are you battling for this time?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth curling upward into a grin that could only be described as devilish. His gaze flickered, a glint of mischief lighting his eyes, but he offered no further explanation. “Pride, Thor,” he said finally, his tone light yet deliberate, the words laden with layers of meaning. “Simple pride.”

As if on cue, the door swung open with a soft, deliberate creak, and you stepped inside alongside Natasha and Wanda, the three of you commanding the room with an understated, magnetic presence. The atmosphere in the gym, already thick with tension and rivalry, shifted immediately, as though the air itself bent to accommodate your arrival. The rhythmic thud of weights hitting the ground and low murmurs of conversation faltered, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to hold the collective gaze of every man in the room.

Each of you exuded an air of effortless elegance and undeniable strength, your outfits blending athleticism and allure in a way that was impossible to ignore. You, dressed in a sleek cropped top that revealed just enough of your toned midriff to hint at the dedication beneath it, paired it with high-cut athletic shorts that elongated your legs. The addition of thigh-high compression socks accentuated your form, lending both practicality and a touch of bold style. Your hair was swept into a perfectly imperfect messy bun, with a few stray strands framing your face like an artist's final, deliberate strokes on a masterpiece. The faint sheen of your skin from the heat outside caught the light just right, and the subtle tint of lip balm made your lips seem more vivid, though still natural—an unintentional yet undeniable invitation to stare.

Natasha and Wanda complemented your presence perfectly. Natasha, in her sleek black leggings and a fitted low-cut tank top, moved with feline grace, her crimson hair pulled into a high ponytail that swayed slightly with each step. Wanda’s outfit, a rich maroon set that clung to her like a second skin, paired with a lightweight jacket tied casually around her waist, hinted at her unique balance of grounded power and mysticism. The three of you looked like a coordinated, unstoppable force, every movement synchronized in unintentional harmony.

The men in the room couldn’t help but take notice. Tony’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, his usual wit temporarily stolen. Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to avert his gaze but couldn’t help a second glance. Sam and Bucky exchanged a quick look that was equal parts appreciation and amusement, while Thor simply let out a low, approving hum, his broad grin spreading as his eyes lingered for just a second too long.

But Loki—Loki’s reaction was immediate, as though his attention was magnetically drawn to you the moment you came in. His sharp green eyes flickered over you, briefly narrowing with a subtle appraisal that didn’t escape your notice. His smirk faltered for the briefest moment before returning with even more fervor, like a predator calculating its next move.

The tight-fitting athletic wear revealed just enough to catch his interest, and he looked at you with an intensity that felt as if it could set the entire room ablaze. It wasn’t the kind of gaze that lingered on your face or the space between you, but on the curve of your hips and the long, toned length of your legs. He traced the lines of your body with a hunger in his eyes, though momentarily distracted by your planned indifference.

When he met your gaze, the mischievous glint in his expression only deepened. It was clear he hadn’t missed your deliberate lack of acknowledgment, but that didn’t deter him. No, instead, it seemed to fuel the game he was already playing, and he grinned, as though the challenge had only just begun.

“What's up, guys?" you asked lightly, your tone casual, almost dismissive, as you moved past the group. The words hung in the air like a carefully thrown dart, drawing their attention further without giving too much away. You radiated a confident ease, as though utterly unaware—or uncaring—of the disruption your presence had caused.

Loki, of course, wasn’t so easily dismissed. He subtly shifted in your direction, his posture as relaxed as ever, but there was a deliberate intent in the way he angled himself slightly toward you. His smirk was slow and deliberate, his lips curving upward like the promise of a secret only he knew. When you didn’t immediately look his way, he leaned forward just enough for his presence to nudge into your space, his emerald eyes gleaming with mischief.

Natasha raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, while Wanda shot him a cool, disinterested glance before heading toward the chosen workout area. They didn’t need words; the look they exchanged was enough to say it all.

You stayed focused, making your way to join them with an effortless stride, your movements as fluid as they were intentional. The men couldn’t help themselves, their gazes trailing after you like moths to a flame, though each tried, with varying degrees of success, to pretend they weren’t watching. Tony cleared his throat, shifting his weight awkwardly as if trying to appear nonchalant. Steve adjusted his stance, looking determined to redirect his attention to anything else but failing miserably. Sam gave a low whistle under his breath, earning an elbow from Bucky, who chuckled and muttered something about "respecting professionalism." Thor crossed his arms, his grin unabashed and entirely unapologetic as he observed the dynamic shift in the room.

“Did you feel that?” Natasha murmured quietly to you, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she gestured toward the group with a subtle tilt of her head. “The collective brain cell they’re trying to share just short-circuited.”

You smirked but kept your eyes forward, not giving Loki or the others the satisfaction of knowing you noticed. “Barely,” you replied, your voice low enough for only Natasha and Wanda to hear.

Loki’s grin widened at your apparent indifference, but beneath the mask of arrogance, there was the usual flicker of frustration at the lack of attention from your end. At this point, he thrived on it, and your refusal to grant it to him, even for a moment, was an offense he didn’t want to tolerate anymore. 

Wanda gave you a knowing look, her smirk growing as she took note of the subtle shift in his posture. “Here we go,” she murmured with a quiet laugh, her voice carrying the hint of something much more entertaining to come. Natasha, not missing a beat, threw the dark prince another pointed glance, her amusement evident in the way she silently challenged him.

Still, you gave no reaction, letting him stew in his theatrics for just a little longer. You had a special workout to get to, after all.

You took a deep breath before turning back to face the group of men, fully aware of the apprehension in the room and how everyone’s attention was on you. The air was thick with anticipation, and you played it up, pretending the Asgardian didn’t exist for the moment. 

"Alright, so," you began, your voice light but with an edge of authority. "The girls and I decided to work on agility today. We’re going to try something different for this session." You allowed a small, deliberate pause, letting the words sink in as you watched their faces shift from confusion to curiosity.

They were all listening intently, waiting for more. "You know," you continued, flashing a casual smile, "Yoga. Thought we’d give it a go today." The words came out with just enough playful confidence to keep them guessing.

Tony, still lurking behind a set of dumbbells, couldn't hide the curiosity that piqued his interest. "Yoga?" he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "You sure you’re not just trying to get out of lifting some actual weight for once, Glamazon?" 

You grinned back, unfazed. "No, actually, I’m curious to see how my core holds up," you said, your voice playful yet sharp with determination, a reminder of the underlying strength you carried in everything you did. "But don’t worry about us," you added with a carefree shrug. "You’ll get your gym session, and we’ll get ours."

Sam, ever the instigator, leaned forward with that cocky grin of his. "I didn’t think you were into that," he said with a raised eyebrow, clearly enjoying the energy shift. "You always seem like you’d rather be running circles around us."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a glimmer of an unknown sentiment flickering in your eyes. "Variety's good, right?" You glanced at Natasha and Wanda, both of whom were already giving off an air of superiority. "It’s about challenging the body in different ways, not just about strength."

Wanda, who had been eyeing the group of men with a gleam in her eye, finally spoke up. "Plus, it’s a great way to get some real flexibility, not just the physical kind." Her voice was light, but you knew the deeper meaning in her words, especially with the way she shot a conspiratory glance at Sam.

You couldn’t help but throw her a grin. "Exactly. Yoga isn’t just about strength. It’s about balance, coordination, and mental focus." You paused, eyes narrowing with intent. "Thought I’d try to perfect my inner zen."

Thor, who had been watching you intently, folded his arms over his chest, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "What is this... some kind of sorcery?" he asked, clearly puzzled by the shift in atmosphere.

You laughed softly, casting a quick glance toward the men before letting your gaze land on Loki. His eyes were still on you, though his earlier smirk had dimmed. You tilted your head slightly, feigning innocence. "It’s just a workout routine, Loki. Nothing to be concerned about." You let your words hang in the air, a subtle challenge of your own.

Loki leaned in, his voice laced with mock seriousness, but his tone hinted at something deeper, something more intrigued than he'd care to admit. "Oh, I’m not concerned. Not at all," he said smoothly, though the faintest glimmer of doubt danced in his eyes. "But do be careful, pet. We wouldn't want you to overextend yourself... You might strain more than just your flexibility."

You could feel his words crawling under your skin, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you kept your posture relaxed, almost too casual. "We’ll be fine," you answered politely but with a hint of finality. "It’s just a change of pace." You smiled sweetly at him, then turned away, making a conscious effort to ignore his attempt to rile you up.

As you and the girls began setting up the yoga mats, the entertained demeanor of Tony caught your eye, his grin widening into something that could only be described as smug. "If you need help stretching... I’m more than qualified," he winked. "I think you’re gonna need it."

You shot back a playful glance. "You think so?" you retorted teasingly. "If you want to join us, there’s plenty of space." 

Bucky, who had been watching your every move, let out a quiet chuckle. "You’re gonna make us look bad if we do, aren’t you?" he said, a knowing look passing between you both.

You flashed him a mischievous grin. "Wouldn’t dream of it," you replied with a wink before returning your focus to the task at hand. You were used to their attention by now, and you certainly weren’t about to give them the satisfaction of getting flustered.

You took your place and knelt down to adjust your mat, and you could definitely feel the unmistakable heat of Loki’s glare on your body. But you were determined to remain unaffected. You glanced at Natasha and Wanda, giving them a playful, almost wicked grin. This was about to get fun.

"So," you began, turning casually back to the group of men, your voice smooth but laced with underlying devilry, "the thing about yoga is that it really works your flexibility. And you’ve got to have good control over your body, or things can get a little too loose." You allowed a slight pause, watching the flicker of understanding and interest cross their faces.

You could see Loki’s eyebrow quirked up slightly, the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips betraying his struggle to maintain composure. "Of course," you continued innocently, "flexibility is key, especially when you’re trying to get into some of those deep stretches."

You made a show of adjusting your position on the mat, arching your back just enough to catch their attention, a calculated move that made Sam’s eyes widen just a little, a grin tugging at his lips.

"You're really showing off with this, huh?" Sam teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he casually leaned against the wall. His gaze briefly flickered to you on the mat before he added, "All that flexibility and focus… if it were me, I’d probably pull something just from the distraction."

You threw him a discreet wink before turning your attention back to your girls, who were already preparing for the first pose. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Bird Boy," you teased. "Honestly, it's just a matter of knowing your limits and knowing how far you can bend... without breaking," you added with a sly, deliberate emphasis.

Steve spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension with an almost casual air. "Alright, alright, calm down there, you two," he said with a bemused chuckle, clearly enjoying the interplay but not wanting things to escalate too much. "Let’s not get too carried away. It’s yoga, not... whatever this is turning into." His gaze flicked between you and Loki, though there was an unspoken understanding behind his words, he was well aware of the subtle play unfolding.

You didn’t break your stride. "Aye aye Captain," you voiced airily, glancing at him over your shoulder. "I’m just giving the guys here a taste of what it takes to stay flexible in more ways than one." You shot a playful grin in his direction, making sure to keep the mood light.

Loki’s eyes flicked from you to Steve, his expression momentarily darkening, as if something behind his sharp gaze shifted. He gave a slow, deliberate tilt of his head, his voice smooth yet carrying an undertone of challenge. "Rogers," Loki began, his tone laced with mock curiosity, "if you truly believe this is all just... stretching and bending, I’m afraid you’ve missed the point entirely." His eyes returned to you, a quiet tension building between his words.

You suppressed a laugh, knowing exactly what he was alluding to, but you kept your focus. You turned toward the men, who were now all clearly intrigued, some with more open curiosity than others.

Tony, still clearly entertained by the dynamic between you, leaned back in his seat. “And what exactly are we supposed to take from all this... stretching and flexing?" His words carried a hint of inviting defiance, as though daring you to continue this little game.

Bucky, still hovering near his weights, gave a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking between you and the green god. "I’m just here for the show," he added, his usual deadpan expression betraying the amusement he clearly found in the whole thing.

You smiled, pleased by the attention, but kept your composure. "Don’t worry, guys," you said with a wink. "You’ll get your workout. But maybe you’ll learn something about balance, focus... subordination. We all could use a little more of that, don't you think?"

"Subordination," Steve echoed, shaking his head. "We’re talking yoga here, right? Or did I miss something?"

"You didn’t miss anything, Captain," Loki’s voice chimed in smoothly, though his eyes never left you. "But you might want to be careful—some people don’t handle that kind of 'subordination' as well as others." His smirk was back, albeit with a more pointed edge now, his voice low with an almost voracious quality as if he was intently mulling over his next move.

"Well, it’s about more than just physical control," you replied, your tone just as smooth as his. "It’s about mental clarity. Knowing your limits... and knowing when to push past them." You threw a subtle glance in his direction, not missing the way his gaze flickered, and guessing that his mind was already working over your words, perhaps taking them in ways you hadn’t fully intended.

"And knowing how to play your cards, I suppose?" Loki's voice was a touch more serious now, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze.

You couldn’t help but throw his own words back at him again, leaning into the challenge. "Exactly," you said with a sweet grin. "You’ve got it."

You stretched your legs out in front of you, positioning your body in a slow and deliberate stretch, purposefully showing off the control you had over every movement. "You have to go slow with these," you said in a sweet, yet teasing voice. "Otherwise, you might end up straining something... and we wouldn’t want that, would we?" You took a peek at Loki, knowing full well that your words were likely to provoke him.

His lips twitched, but he didn’t respond right away. Thor, clearly catching on to the subtle game you were playing, nudged his brother. "You know, brother, if you’d just give it a try, you might find yoga quite revealing," he suggested with an amused grin, his eyes flipping between the two of you.

Loki sighed, though it seemed more out of the need to regain his composure than out of actual frustration. "Oh, I’m quite content watching, thank you," he said smoothly, though you could tell he was still too engaged in the situation to fully hide his interest.

You saw the opening and took it. "Well," you articulated, your tone dripping with mock sweetness, "the sidelines are reserved for those who prefer to watch, after all. But if you ever want to get in on the action, you know where to find me."

There was a brief, stunned silence in the room as everyone processed your words. You took the opportunity to focus back on your session, bending into another deep stretch, deliberately pushing your body further to make sure the attention stayed on you.

The words hung in the air for a brief moment, and Loki’s sharp green eyes flicked toward you, a flicker of realization crossing his face. His smirk faltered, just for a split second, before returning with an edge of something darker. "Oh," he uttered, his voice low, "you’ve got a good memory, don’t you?"

You knew exactly what you were doing. And you loved every second of it.

Natasha shot you a look, her eyes glinting with amusement, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she caught the subtext of your words and movements. "You’re having a little too much fun with this," she called you out. Clearly, she was enjoying the bubbling disarray you were effortlessly stirring up.

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear unaffected by the stir you were causing. "Hey," you countered, your tone playful, "if they’re going to stand around and gawk, I might as well entertain them." Your eyes flickered briefly to the dark prince, where his subtle shift in focus didn’t escape your notice as you turned back to the red-headed assassin.

Sam, always ready to poke fun, leaned forward, his elbows digging into his knees as he flashed you an exaggerated grin. "You’re definitely keeping it interesting, that’s for sure," he quipped, clearly caught between amusement and an underlying curiosity.

With a light chuckle, you peered at him provocatively. "I’m just here to make sure everyone’s stretched in the right way," you quipped back, a hint of challenge in your voice as you met his eyes.

Steve, sensing the playful banter was starting to spin out of control, clapped his hands together, his presence bringing a subtle shift in the room. The tension that had been hanging in the air from the teasing remained, but now it was time to bring things back to business. “Alright, fellas,” he said, his voice cutting through the chaos, authoritative and sharp as always. “Back to the weights. Time to get serious.”

The guys groaned in unison, a collective reluctance that seemed to ripple through the group, but despite the grumbling, they picked up their dumbbells and returned to their stations. The sounds of weights clinking and the low murmurs of the guys refocusing filled the room, but one person remained distinctly out of sync with the rest.

From his spot by the bench, Loki’s composure was slipping more visibly with each passing second. His long fingers tightened and relaxed around the barbell, his muscles flexing involuntarily as if trying to regain control of his body. But his gaze kept flickering back to where you and the other women had gathered, setting up for the next set of stretches. He tried his best to feign indifference—leaning casually against the bench, appearing utterly unbothered—but it was clear to anyone paying attention that it was a losing battle.

When you bent forward into a slow, deliberate stretch, sliding effortlessly into a forward fold, Loki's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. The graceful curve of your back, the way your body seemed to flow with ease into the pose, was almost hypnotic. He could feel his pulse quicken, and despite his best efforts to maintain poise, his mind spiraled into dangerous thoughts. 

He imagined his hands trailing down your spine, the heat of your skin under his fingertips, the way you'd arch into his touch. He’d trace the elegant curve of your spine downwards, his hand dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to explore the supple globes of your ass, gripping and kneading the firm flesh. He would hook his fingers in the waistband and slowly tug them and your underwear down, revealing your most intimate places to his hungry gaze, inch by tortuous inch. 

Then, he’d slip his hand inside your soaking panties, and groan at the slick evidence of your arousal coating his fingers. Notch two fingers at your entrance, pumping them in a shallow thrust, crooking them to find that special spot inside, and piston it repeatedly simply to watch as you lose your mind and your whole body quivers again and again. 

The sheer audacity of the images playing out in his head made his jaw tighten, a flush creeping up his neck as his fortitude continued to unravel. 

He tried to drag his gaze away, his grip tightening on the barbell as though the weight could somehow ground him in reality. But even as he focused on the solid steel in his hands, it felt almost insubstantial compared to the magnetic pull of your presence. He swallowed thickly, a futile attempt to regain control, but it didn’t work.

When his gaze flicked back—just for a split second, just to check on your progress—you were transitioning into a lunge, every line of your body accentuated by the stretch. The faint sheen of sweat caught the light, making your skin glow as though you were carved from something impossibly radiant. It wasn’t just the stretch that rendered him mad; it was you. You knew exactly how to push his buttons, how to pull him into your orbit without a single word, like some irresistible gravitational force he had no hope of escaping.

When had it escalated to this? What was supposed to be a simple, harmless game of one-upmanship—his initial goal to snatch that little fame of yours around the gym, to make you scowl, cower, and surrender—had somehow veered wildly off course. Now, instead of basking in smug satisfaction at seeing you flustered, he found himself consumed by something far more primal, far more dangerous. He no longer simply wanted to knock you off your pedestal; he wanted to know everything about you. The sharpness of your mind, the quick wit that matched his quip for quip, the fire in your gaze that never backed down. He lusted after you, mind and body, with a hunger that rattled him to his core.

The predator had become the prey in a sense, tangled in a chase he’d started but could no longer direct. And judging by the way your smile curved just a little more, you knew it too.

A low growl rumbled deep in Loki’s chest, barely audible over the clanging weights and murmured conversations. He gripped the barbell tighter, the metal biting into his palms, but it wasn’t enough to stem the tide of thoughts flooding his mind. His imagination ran wild—thoughts of you pressed against him, your flexibility taking on a much more intimate meaning, your laughter ringing in his ear as you teased him mercilessly. It was awash in a flood of filthy fantasies, with you pressed against him and those long legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him deeper. The heat of you, the slickness, your breathy pleas, taunting him to take you harder, faster. 

He gripped the barbell so hard the metal cut into his palms, desperately trying to ground himself and regain his rapidly eroding self-control. But it was no use, he was too lost in the haze of lust. He wanted to map every inch of your body with his hands and mouth, mark you as his, and let everyone here know you belonged to him. He wanted to bend you over the nearest surface and take you until you were a mewling, quivering wreck. He desperately fought the urge to storm over there and throw you down at his mercy, consequences be damned. It took every ounce of his willpower to simply turn away, adjusting himself discreetly as he tried to will his throbbing erection away. His composure was disintegrating, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he shifted uncomfortably on the bench, trying to regain his focus. 

If he wasn’t careful enough, you were going to be the death of him.

Across the room, you, Natasha, and Wanda exchanged a series of knowing glances, clearly reveling in the chaos you had orchestrated. Loki’s predicament wasn’t subtle, and it was hard to miss the way his sharp eyes darted toward you whenever he thought no one was watching.

"You think he’s going to be able to concentrate now?" you murmured to them, raising your arms in an effortless stretch that made your shirt ride up just enough to catch Loki’s attention once again. Your tone was low, almost conspiratorial, but you knew he could hear if he tried hard enough.

Natasha rolled her shoulders, dropping into a plank with casual ease. “Not a chance. He’s too proud to admit it, but I’d bet good money he’s losing his mind over there.”

Wanda, sitting cross-legged on the mat, tilted her head, her insidious grin widening. "Look at him. He’s not even pretending anymore. Poor guy’s completely spiraling. But honestly, can you blame him? You’re practically putting on a show."

You shrugged nonchalantly, your face the picture of innocence, though the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed your enjoyment of the situation. “Hey, it’s not my fault if he gets distracted. I’m just minding my own business.”

The black widow snorted, shaking her head as she transitioned into another move. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you admitted with a grin, fully aware of the effect you were having on Loki. “After that little stunt he pulled last week? He deserves this.”

On the far side of the gym, said god’s serenity was unraveling with every passing second. His grip on the barbell had tightened to the point where his knuckles had turned bone-white, the strain of his internal battle evident in the shallow, uneven breaths escaping him. The telltale tremor in his hands betrayed how close he was to losing his carefully maintained facade of indifference. When the weight slipped slightly, the metallic clang that followed shattered the gym’s ambient noise, drawing the attention of everyone present. The room seemed to pause, a dozen sets of eyes turning toward the god of mischief.

Thor, stationed just a few paces away, leaned lazily against the wall, his massive frame radiating ease and confidence. His arms crossed over his broad chest, and a knowing grin tugged at his lips, threatening to break into outright laughter. The scene before him was, in his eyes, nothing short of perfection. Loki—his ever-composed, perpetually aloof brother—was undone, and Thor was reveling in it. 

The god of thunder had been fully on board with your plan when you’d approached him earlier, offering the chance to "tease Loki into humility." With a booming laugh, he’d agreed without hesitation, ready to knock his prideful brother down a peg. After all, he had earned it with his antics the week prior.

As the barbell clattered to the floor, his grin widened, the gleam in his blue eyes betraying just how much he was enjoying the spectacle. He caught your eye from across the room, his expression practically shouting, "This is even better than I imagined." The sharp clang of the weight hitting the floor had drawn murmurs and stifled chuckles, and Thor, always the instigator, seized the moment.

“Loki,” Thor called, his voice a booming mix of authority and mirth that cut clean through the chatter. “What’s this? Barely lifting a thing, are we? Losing your strength—or are you too busy... gawking?”

Loki’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing as his scowl deepened. “I am not gawking,” he hissed, his tone venomous and defensive. But his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes flashed guiltily toward you told a very different story.

Thor let out a hearty chuckle, unfolding his arms to gesture toward you and the others stretching nearby. “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re far more interested in their yoga session than the weights in front of you.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, Bucky and Sam exchanging grins before jumping in to add to Loki’s torment. Sam, ever the opportunist, leaned back on his bench with a wide grin. “Man, it’s fine. Yoga’s... distracting. No shame in it.”

“Yeah,” Bucky added, his tone dripping with mock seriousness as he set his dumbbells down, “but maybe at least pretend you’re working out. The weights won’t lift themselves, Loki.”

The teasing drew another chorus of chuckles from the room, but Loki was far from amused. His jaw tightened, and a faint, dangerous green glow began to flicker at his fingertips, signaling the return of his seiðr. He fixed Thor with a glare so sharp it could have sliced through steel. “You,” Loki growled, his voice low and menacing, “should start praying. You’ll need the gods’ mercy if you even dream of reaching Valhalla once I’m thorough with you.”

Thor only laughed louder, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement. “Oh, come now, brother. You’re just proving you’re as mortal as the rest of us. But next time, maybe focus on lifting the weights instead of letting your eyes wander.”

Loki’s searing gaze flickered toward you once more, but this time, it lingered longer than he intended. You had slid effortlessly into another pose, a deep stretch that accentuated every elegant line of your body. A knowing smirk played on your lips as your eyes met his, an unspoken provocation communicated through your behavior. It was maddening, and Loki knew you were doing it on purpose.

The sharp sting of Thor’s taunts, paired with your relentless teasing, finally pushed him over the edge. He stood abruptly, the barbell crashing to the floor with a deafening clang. Muttering something dark under his breath, he turned away, his steps brisk and his posture tense. Yet, despite his best efforts to leave the scene with whatever dignity he had left, his gaze betrayed him once again. He glanced over his shoulder, unable to resist one final look at the source of his torment—you, his greatest distraction.

The crackling energy in the room was practically tangible, and Natasha was at the center of it, her sharp eyes sparkling with unspoken delight as she shifted effortlessly into another stretch. Her movements were carefully concocted, the embodiment of feline grace as she dropped into a side plank, the smirk on her lips a clear indication that she was thoroughly enjoying the unraveling chaos on the other side of the gym.

Wanda, seated lazily with her weight balanced on her palms, seemed to radiate amusement, her wide grin lighting up her face as she flicked her gaze toward the god of mischief. His composure—or lack thereof—was the primary source of her entertainment, and she did not attempt to hide it. Loki looked as if the tension building inside him was about to boil over, his jaw tight and his emerald eyes practically glowing with restrained power. 

She stifled a laugh, her chest trembling with suppressed mirth. “Careful,” she murmured, tilting her chin in his direction. “I think he’s about to snap.”

The corners of your mouth curled into a sly grin as you caught her meaning, a spark of playful defiance glimmering in your eyes. If Loki was close to breaking, you weren’t about to let up. Sliding fluidly into a forward fold, you allowed your movements to slow, savoring the stretch as your hands grazed the mat. Your voice, carrying just enough volume to taunt him, was laced with a playful edge. “Do you think he’s ready to admit defeat yet?” you asked, your tone light but tinged with recognizable deviousness.

Natasha puffed softly, her voice dripping with amusement as she adjusted into a flawless plank. “Oh, he’s definitely rethinking a few life choices right now.”

Still, you didn’t falter. You shifted deeper into the stretch, your body moving with a controlled elegance that only added fuel to the fire. The sway of your hips was deliberate, lingering just long enough to ensure that if Loki wasn’t paying attention before, he certainly was now. “What?” you feigned mock innocence that didn’t fool anyone, your grin growing wider. “I’m just stretching. Nothing wrong with being flexible, is there?”

You didn’t miss the glances being exchanged between your companions, nor the faint glimmer of alert flashing brightly as she added, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. He looks like he’s plotting something.”

You snickered softly, your fingers grazing the mat before you shifted into a slightly more provocative stretch. “Poor thing,” you mused, your voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Must be exhausting, trying to pretend he’s unbothered when he’s that obsessed.”

Wanda giggled at the remark, her laughter bubbling up as she adjusted into a side plank. “Obsessed doesn’t even cover it. He’s one step away from declaring war.”

You hummed thoughtfully, casting a look over your shoulder toward Loki, whose sharp gaze hadn’t left you for a second. His jaw was tight, the tension radiating off him palpable, and the corner of your mouth tugged upward into a sly grin. “It’s not my fault if he can’t handle a little competition.”

“Competition?” Natasha echoed, her tone incredulous as she shot you a look. “Babe, I don’t think that’s the word for what you’re doing.”

Wanda nodded in agreement, a hint of warning in her expression. “Yeah, it’s more like... poking the bear.”

You shrugged as you transitioned into a Downward Dog position, your movements slow and deliberate. “Poking the bear? Please. He’s more of a spoiled housecat than a bear.” Your grin turned downright wicked. “Adorable when he’s angry, though.”

Wanda bit down on her lip, her laughter barely contained. Natasha, however, froze mid-motion, her playful demeanor replaced with something far more serious. Her gaze flicked past you, her lips silently forming a word you couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, the urgency in her expression sent a shiver of apprehension through you.

Before you could turn to see what had caught her attention, you felt it—an almost tangible shift in the air behind you. Heavy, electric, and laced with an unmistakably familiar feeling that never failed to prickle along your spine. Your nails slightly sank in the mat, bracing yourself as the atmosphere thickened. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was; the weight of his presence was undeniable, his scrutiny burning into your back with such intensity it made your skin flush.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the task in front of you, though the attempt at nonchalance was futile. The sound of his voice cut through your resolve like a blade through silk.

“Darling.”

The single word was low and deliberate, laced with authority and intent. It wasn’t a greeting; it was a summon—a reminder of who held the upper hand. The rich timbre of his voice sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and before you could fully process it, he was closer. The warmth of his body lightly pressed against your back, his presence suffocating yet intoxicating.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before you finally managed, “What’s the matter, Trickster?” You kept your voice steady, though the hitch in your breath betrayed you as you let your lips curl into a teasing smirk. “Feeling tense? Maybe you should... stretch it out.”

The silence that followed was thick, the kind that demanded submission. Then, without warning, his hands settled on your hips, and in a firm and unyielding force, brought you back up from your lowered position. The gasp that escaped you was involuntary and sharp, and his low, rumbling chuckle made your stomach twist in a confusing mix of defiance and desire.

“Stretch?” His voice was a breath against your ear, smooth and wicked. “Oh, pet, I don’t think you’re in any position to give advice.”

His grip tightened as he pulled you back, flush against him. The unmistakable hardness pressing into you sent a wave of heat crashing through your body, your teasing confidence unraveling in an instant. Loki leaned in, his chest brushing against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear with maddening precision.

“You’ve been playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a sinful rasp. “Bending over so sweetly, flaunting yourself like that. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Notice what?” you countered, the breathiness in your voice betraying your feigned indifference. You shifted slightly, trying to create space, but the movement only served to press you closer to him. His hands tightened, holding you firmly in place.

“Don’t play coy,” he warned, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin just below your ear. The warmth of his breath sent shivers racing down your spine. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Teasing me. Provoking me. But tell me, darling…” His fingers trailed slowly up your sides, his touch light but deliberate, leaving a burning trail in its wake. “Is this what you wanted?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hands slid higher, one resting at your waist while the other teased the bare skin just beneath your shirt. His fingers danced with an infuriating gentleness, and your knees threatened to buckle.

“Well?” he pressed, his voice soft yet commanding, a dark promise woven into every syllable. His teeth grazed the jointure between your ears and your neck, and you couldn’t stop the sharp inhale that escaped you. Loki chuckled, the melodious directly reaching your eardrums. “Answer me. Is this what you wanted?”

“Uh-uh,” you breathed out, the words barely escaping your parted lips, as if you were caught in a hypnotic daze.

Loki’s voice dropped an octave, more insistent now. “Words, darling.”

“Yes,” you finally admitted, the word escaping in a whisper. Your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch as a smug smile curved his lips against your skin.

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice molten as his hands slid lower. One dipped beneath the contoured waistband of your shorts, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin there, and your breath faltered. He laughed, the sound dark and indulgent. “You’ve made a grave mistake.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else. Wanda’s muffled giggles barely registered as Loki leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of your ear.

“Because now,” he continued, his voice a sinful rasp, “you’ve made it my turn.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze over your shoulder, your smirk trembling at the edges. “Oh? Should I be scared?”

Loki’s answering smile was sharp, predatory. His hand slid back to your hip, his grip firm and possessive. “Terrified,” he hummed, his voice as smooth as it was dangerous. “But I suspect you enjoy provoking me too much to care.”

“Maybe I do,” you shot back, your voice wavering just enough to reveal your nerves. “Or maybe you’re just easy to rile up.”

His laughter was low and mocking, the sound vibrating against you. “Easy?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You think resisting the urge to put you in your place is easy for me?” His fingers ghosted along your side, their proximity sending heat pooling deep within you. “Do you know what I’ve been imagining, darling?”

Your breath hitched audibly as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear once more. “How delectable you’d look bent over for an entirely different reason,” he murmured, his voice dark and heavy with intent. “How sweet you’d sound begging me to stop teasing and give you exactly what you need.”

The vivid imagery his words conjured made your knees wobble as much as it made your cunt clench down, and Loki’s knowing smirk deepened as he noticed. It was the firm grip of his hand on your jaw that truly held you in place, forcing your gaze to meet his. The pressure of his fingers was gentle yet commanding, keeping you exactly where he wanted—right in his control, unable to look away.

“Keep this up,” he growled, his tone a low, velvety threat, “and I’ll ruin you right here, where everyone can see.”

Your breath hitched again, your pulse racing as his fingers pressed firmly against your hip, their touch a silent warning. “You wouldn’t dare,” you challenged, though your voice betrayed just how uncertain you were.

Loki’s dark chuckle sent shivers through you, and he leaned in until his lips were nearly brushing yours. “Wouldn’t I?”

And just like that, he pulled away, leaving you trembling and breathless. You turned instinctively, your wide eyes following him as he sauntered back to the bench with a self-satisfied smirk. He didn’t look back, but the deliberate sway in his step said everything: he’d won—and he knew it.

Before you could fully recover, Steve's voice rang out from across the gym, stern and authoritative. "Loki!" he called sharply, cutting through the tension in the room like a blade. "Stop slacking and get back to work! And leave the girls alone while you're at it."

Loki paused mid-stride, his smirk widening as he turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch the glint of mischief in his eyes. With an exaggerated sigh, he straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders as though Steve's reprimand was an inconvenience he barely tolerated.

"Of course, Captain," Loki drawled, his tone dripping with mock obedience. "Far be it from me to dare disturb anyone."

He threw you one last lingering glance, his emerald eyes gleaming with unspoken promises, before striding toward the bench with a grace that made it impossible not to watch. He casually picked up a barbell and restarted his reps, the smug curve of his lips never quite fading. The deliberate slowness of his movements and the occasional glance in your direction made it clear: while he might have been called back to order, in his mind, the game was far from over.

Natasha and Wanda didn’t even bother hiding their laughter. Natasha let out a low blow, mouthing a silent “Oh my god” while Wanda, ever the dramatist, fanned herself as if she’d just witnessed a scandal too hot to handle. Their shared amusement was palpable, bubbling over in giggles that only served to deepen the heat already pooling in your cheeks.

Meanwhile, you were left rooted to the spot, your breath uneven, as your mind stubbornly replayed his words on an endless, maddening loop. Every rasp of his voice, every deliberate touch, every wicked glint in his eyes seemed etched into your memory, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake it.

The two women exchanged knowing glances, their expressions practically screaming victory on Loki’s behalf. Natasha arched a perfectly shaped brow, her smirk twisting into something teasing yet smug. “Well,” she drawled with mirth in her voice, “that escalated quickly.”

Wanda, ever one to pile on, folded her arms and tilted her head, her grin impossibly wide. “I think we just witnessed the undisputed champion of this little game of yours.” Her voice was light, but her tone carried that infuriating edge of truth, a verdict impossible to deny.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your flaming face in an attempt to block out their reactions. “Don’t,” you muttered, your voice muffled behind your fingers. But it was no use; their laughter was too infectious, bubbling up in waves that only made your embarrassment worse.

What worsened your condition was the fact that Loki didn’t spare a single glance in your direction since your little altercation, but his presence remained large and looming, as though he’d marked the room with his triumph. The discreet tilt of his head, the faintest upward curve of his lips, said everything—he knew exactly that he’d caught your full attention, and he was basking in it like a cat stretching in a patch of sunlight.

You bit down on your lip, torn between indignation and something far more dangerous—desire. He’d turned the tables with disarming ease, leaving you caught in a web of delicious uncertainty. Should you feel frustration at being outmaneuvered so effortlessly? Or should you savor the intoxicating tension he’d created, the way every nerve in your body seemed to buzz with anticipation?

Natasha nudged you with her elbow, her smirk softening into something more playful. “Careful, you might be burning up,” she teased.

Wanda giggled, leaning closer with an exaggerated whisper. “Or maybe it’s just the heat radiating off you from whatever that was.”

You swatted at them half-heartedly, but the truth was, you weren’t entirely sure if their teasing was wrong. Because even as their laughter echoed around you, your thoughts were still wholly consumed by him. Loki had won this round, and judging by the way your pulse refused to settle, you weren’t entirely sure you minded.

⠀

⠀

The events that had transpired in the last session had left a deeper mark on you than you'd ever imagined. Every night since, it felt like you couldn’t escape the relentless replay of it all—his touch, the tension, the heat between you two. It was etched so deeply into your memory that it was impossible to shake, each passing moment branded into your mind with an intensity that nothing could dull. No matter how many distractions you tried, how many of your usual tricks you employed to quiet the gnawing ache, nothing seemed to work. The itch lingered, a constant reminder of everything that had transpired, and you couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. The thrill and fear, both intertwined, kept you buzzing, feeding into the need that had taken root in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Ironically enough, today was Friday the 13th, and it felt almost fitting. A date known for either being your lucky day or your worst nightmare. And it seemed you were, without a doubt, leaning toward the latter. Every second felt like a cruel reminder that you were spiraling, unable to shake the intensity of the encounter in the gym. The pressure was building, and it felt like the world was closing in on you. Part of you was afraid of what would happen next, but another part of you… part of you couldn’t wait to find out. You were on the edge, dangerously close to breaking, and it made you feel as if you were dancing on the razor-thin line between desire and desperation.

Despite your mind screaming at you to stay away, there was this undeniable force that kept you gravitating back toward him. Every part of you told you to leave it alone, but the rest of you was already ensnared, tangled in his web of toying, unsure of where the line between torment and pleasure even lay anymore. You’d tried to hold yourself back, to distance yourself, but the urge to confront him, to give in completely, was getting stronger every day. It was frustrating, exhilarating, terrifying.

But you’d had enough. You were done pretending, done playing by rules you didn’t even understand. If Loki wanted to play games, then you’d meet him on the battlefield. You were betting everything on this session—you’d either go big, or go home. You would do everything to win this round, and if this didn’t play out in your favor, then you’d end it once and for all.

You rummaged through your wardrobe, searching for something that screamed confidence, something that would tilt the scales in your favor. And then you found it. The shortest pair of cotton gym shorts you owned, along with the tightest gym bra in your collection. To top it off, you pulled on high socks that accentuated the length of your legs. For dignity purposes—or so you told yourself—you zipped up a fitted jacket over everything. You decided that the jacket was just for show. You’d wait for the right moment to make your move.

As you made your way to the gym bar, trying to shake the heated flush creeping up your neck and across your cheeks, the memory of what had happened—Loki’s touch, the sting of his voice, and the wild potency of that encounter—was still alive on your skin. You couldn’t soothe the heat, no matter how hard you tried. You settled on a barstool dragging a hand through your hair and stared down at your newly made protein drink, swirling the liquid absently like you were trying to quell the disorder in your mind.

"I can't take it anymore," you grunted in exasperation. The words felt like they had been lodged in your throat for too long, finally spilling out in a rushed confession. "Seriously. I’m so fucking over him I could scream." You took a long, deep gulp from your drink, the coldness of the shake hitting your throat, but it didn’t settle the fire inside you. Nothing seemed to help.

You let out a sharp breath, exhaling as if releasing some of the tension that had coiled itself so tightly inside you. "I should’ve known better. This is humiliating. I can’t stop thinking about what happened, and I can’t focus on anything else. He’s in my head, and I don’t even know if I want him out." The words felt like they were spilling out uncontrollably, as if the dam had broken and now there was no turning back.

Wanda, ever the observer and perpetually ready to tease, raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful grin. She leaned closer, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "You’ve been at this for days now," she noted, her voice dripping with amusement. "What exactly is it that you can’t take? His attitude? The flirting? Or... something else?"

You groaned, the frustration bubbling up inside you. You leaned forward, pressing your palms against the cold surface of the bar, your posture slumped as you let out a long exhale. "Everything, Wanda! Everything about him is like this damn temptation that keeps haunting me. And don’t even get me started on the gym. That moment keeps replaying in my head over and over again." 

You took another sip, but it did nothing to quell the growing ache. "I can't even sleep without thinking about it!" You slumped further, the disbelief creeping into your voice, the realization of how completely out of control you were making its way through you. "I swear, he’s driving me insane." The weight of your confession hung in the air as you let your head fall into your hands for a moment, your fingers pressed against your temples. It was all too much.

Natasha’s gaze shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she saw right through you, reading you like an open book. There was no escaping her sharp perception. "And yet, here you are, complaining instead of doing something about it," she said, her voice laced with a teasing bite. "Maybe you’re a masochist in disguise and like the torture."

The sting of her words hit a little too close to home. You shot her a glare, though you couldn’t quite muster the energy to truly protest. Natasha was always quick to find the underlying truth of a situation, and as much as you hated to admit it, she had a point. You were still here, still willingly participating in the mind games Loki had been playing with you, even knowing what it might cost you in the end. 

The irony of it wasn’t lost on you. Every time you promised yourself you would pull away, the next moment would pull you back in. His voice, his touch, his presence—it was all too much. And the worst bit was, there was a part of you that craved it. 

"Shut up," you muttered, trying to push away the feeling of being so exposed, even though you knew Natasha was right. "It’s not like that." But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they were a lie. You were lying to her, but most importantly to yourself, and you hated it.

Clint and Bruce had returned from their mission, and the moment they walked in, they could tell something was off. They didn’t need to ask—they could see it in your face. 

"So, what’s this I hear?" he asked, leaning casually against the bar with a half-raised eyebrow. "You’ve got a thing for the god of mischief?" His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. "I’ve got to say, you’re not the only one who’s had a run-in with Loki. But something tells me yours is... a little more intense."

Bruce rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t suppress the small, amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. His voice was laced with that familiar, fatherly concern as he leaned in, his tone carrying that blend of criticism and curiosity. "You’re digging yourself into a hole," he shook his head in disapproval. "I can't believe you’re letting him get under your skin like this."

You buried your face in your hands in frustration, your head pounding as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. "You guys don’t get it!" you groaned, lifting your head to meet their eyes. The frustration and helplessness were clear in your gaze. "It’s not like that. It’s... it’s like he’s playing some game, and I don’t even know the rules." 

You sighed, your voice faltering slightly as you tried to express the mess in your head. "I’m so close to just breaking and telling him I can’t handle it anymore, but he makes me—" You paused, the words catching in your throat as you tried to articulate the emotions that were swirling inside you. "He makes me feel things I can’t even explain."

Clint leaned in closer, his grin widening as if he was thoroughly enjoying your discomfort. "Sounds like someone’s having a little too much fun with this," he voiced in dripping sarcasm. "You’re just afraid of what happens next. Don’t worry, we’ve all been there."

"You think it’s fun?" You snapped, your voice sharp as you narrowed your eyes at him. "You try being in my shoes. Or better yet, try being in his presence when he talks in that damn tone and looks at you like he’s going to devour you." The thought of it made your heart race, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck as the memory of his eyes on you, intense and predatory, surged back into your mind. "I don’t think I can even look at him without feeling like I’m going to combust."

Wanda, the ever-present instigator, smirked and took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink. She watched you with a knowing look in her eyes, as though she could see right through all your defenses. "You might be in trouble," she told you, "but part of you likes it. I can see it in your eyes."

You glared at her, but the look she gave you—the look that could see right through your attempts at deflection—made you feel like you were standing naked in front of them, exposed in a way you weren’t ready for. You didn’t have to say it out loud; she could see the truth in your eyes. "Maybe I do," you muttered under your breath, swirling the drink in your hand as if it could somehow distract you from the truth. "But that doesn’t make it any less torturous."

Clint raised his glass in a mock celebration, being far too pleased for your liking. "To the madman deity and the woman who’s too stubborn for her own good. May the shenanigans never stop."

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but let out a small, reluctant laugh. You didn’t want to admit it, not out loud at least, but maybe there was a part of you that was too intrigued, too drawn into Loki’s chaotic energy to resist it.

The hum of camaraderie filled the space as the Avengers trickled in one by one, each voice weaving into the fabric of the team’s unique dynamic. The smell of sweat and faintly lingering disinfectant clung to the air, a backdrop to the rhythmic sound of weights clanging and treadmills whirring faintly in the distance. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the polished floor, giving the room an almost warm glow despite the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

Tony was, unsurprisingly, the loudest, his voice carrying effortlessly above the din. "Come on, Solid Snake, lighten up! You can’t be a broody old man all the time," he teased, leaning lazily against a bench press machine. His smirk was as sharp as ever, and his target—a decidedly unamused Bucky—rolled his eyes in exaggerated exasperation.

"If you’d shut up for five minutes, Stark, maybe I could," Bucky shot back, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if fighting a smirk.

Steve, ever the reluctant peacekeeper, sighed as he adjusted his sweatshirt, clearly already over the banter. "Let’s just get through this without any more distractions, alright?" he muttered, his tone bordering on fatherly but tinged with resignation.

Sam, however, wasn’t about to let the moment pass. "Steve, you’re one to talk," he quipped, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the bar counter next to Clint. "Don’t think we didn’t see you googling ‘Gen Z slang’ last night."

Steve groaned, his cheeks flushing a faint pink, while the others erupted into laughter. Even Bruce chuckled softly from his corner, shaking his head in amusement. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to sink into the lighthearted chaos, letting their teasing and jokes wash over you like a comforting balm. But no matter how hard you tried to blend into the easy rhythm of the group, the weight in your chest refused to lift.

It was painfully obvious that everyone was in unusually high spirits, and you weren’t naive enough to think it was just post-mission relief. The knowing glances, the smirks passed between them, and the barely-contained chuckles—everything pointed to one thing. They were waiting. Watching. Eager to see how the latest chapter in your ongoing rivalry with Loki would unfold. The anticipation in the room was almost tangible, a crackling undercurrent beneath the surface of their cheerful chatter.

And the fateful moment finally arrived.

The double doors swung open with a dramatic flourish, the sound reverberating across the gym like a herald of chaos. Thor entered first, his stride impossibly cheerful, his booming laugh filling every corner of the room. "Friends! What a glorious day it is to bask in the company of heroes!" he declared, his golden hair practically glowing in the sunlight as he beamed at everyone around him. He clapped Clint on the back with enough force to make him stumble, earning a playful glare in return. Thor’s enthusiasm was suspicious, his overly bright grin and exuberance almost too pointed, as if he knew something no one else did—or rather, as if he was trying far too hard not to let it slip.

Almost as if to build suspense, the dark prince finally stepped forward, emerging from the corners of the entrance like a phantom materializing from the depths.

He didn’t stride so much as glide, his movements unnervingly smooth, like he was above the very act of walking itself—each step seemingly effortless, almost as if the ground beneath him didn’t quite deserve to bear his presence. There was something unsettling in the grace with which he moved, a quiet dominance in every motion. His form was poised, elegant in a way that seemed deliberate, controlled. His presence alone demanded attention, yet he didn’t exert any force to command it; it simply was.

The contrast between him and his brother was impossible to ignore. Where Thor radiated boisterous energy, a whirlwind of warmth and noise, Loki was the calm in the storm, his composure sharp, cool, and infinitely measured. While the thunder god’s exuberance filled the room with a palpable force, his stillness seemed to draw all the focus to him without uttering a word. It was a stark foil to his brother’s exuberance, and it only heightened the tension in the room.

His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, as though to further emphasize the careful restraint in his every movement. There was no rushed energy in him, no urgency—only the chilling poise of someone who knew the full weight of their presence. His emerald eyes swept across the room with a cold, calculating precision, like a predator carefully assessing its surroundings. 

Today, Loki was surprisingly dressed simply, yet nothing short of devastating. A fitted black long-sleeve shirt clung to his lean frame, the fabric so well-tailored that it seemed effortlessly perfect, while still accentuating every line of muscle beneath it. Black compression shorts revealed the chiseled definition of his legs, the ensemble completed by sleek athletic socks and understated sneakers that looked both functional and undeniably stylish. His dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, stray strands framing his face, giving him an air of ruggedness that was almost ethereal.

He looked unfairly good—like he’d walked straight out of a high-fashion magazine editorial, the kind dedicated to showcasing "dangerously attractive male specimens" in their most refined form. Every detail of his gym wear spoke of someone who had mastered the art of simplicity, yet exuded an undeniable, almost unattainable, charisma.

And just your luck, he’d somehow managed to nearly match your outfit.

A flicker of amusement danced in Loki’s emerald eyes, and his lips curled into a sly, knowing smirk as he began his slow, deliberate approach toward you. His movements were smooth, almost languid, as though each step was a calculated part of some grand performance. His gaze never once wavered from you, cutting through the room with an intensity that seemed to render everyone else irrelevant, invisible in his presence. The chatter of the room grew distant, muffled, as though someone had turned the volume down on reality itself.

He drew closer, his gaze locked onto yours with an almost predatory intensity, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Every fiber of your being seemed to react to him, pulling you into his orbit. There was no escaping the pull of Loki, and the world outside the bubble of his gaze became irrelevant.

"Darling," he greeted smoothly, the word rolling off his tongue with a velvety mockery, every syllable dripping with heat. His eyes swept over you with a quick, almost dismissive glance, taking in every detail of your outfit—the jacket, the high socks, the way your clothes hugged your form with a purpose. There was something in his look, something knowing, as if he understood exactly why you had chosen each piece, and the knowledge of that made his smirk deepen. He loved this game.

"Trickster," you replied, your voice cool and composed, but there was a sharpness beneath the surface, a challenge that he would undoubtedly recognize. You met his gaze head-on, your body subconsciously crossing your arms and legs as if to shield yourself from the heat of his stare. But even as you tried to put up a defense, it felt as though the world around you had narrowed down to just the two of you. The space between you crackled with energy, the tension palpable, leaving you breathless and aware of nothing except him.

The silence stretched, thick and taut, before Sam, ever the provocateur, leaned toward Clint with an exaggerated whisper, his voice loud enough for those around him to hear. "You could cut the tension with a knife. I’d sell tickets to this."

"Is is their foreplay or just regular banter?" The archerer quipped, his dry humor drawing a few stifled laughs from the others.

Thor, completely oblivious to the subtle dynamics of the situation, clapped his hands together with a booming laugh, his voice carrying through the room with his usual enthusiasm. "Ah, what an entertaining rivalry! If only you knew, my friends, how much—"

"Thor," Loki interrupted sharply, his voice low, carrying a dangerous edge that made everyone pause. His eyes narrowed in a way that promised retribution if his brother pushed any further. The god faltered, suddenly aware of the tension that had shifted the moment Loki’s voice had cut through the air, glancing between you and Loki with an almost childlike look of guilt.

"What? It’s nothing, brother," The blonde said quickly, his grin still wide, trying to cover up his mistake with a weak deflection. "I was merely going to say how much you—"

"Thor," He repeated, this time his voice sharper, more commanding, and his jaw visibly clenched. The room seemed to hold its collective breath, the atmosphere shifting from lighthearted to electric, as everyone waited for the next move.

You raised an eyebrow with a nonchalant air that betrayed your growing interest. "How much he what?" you asked, your tone pretending to be uninterested, but the rapid beat of your heart told a different story. You were more than ready to hear what he had almost spilled, if only to use it as a sword of Damocles.

Thor hesitated, caught in the web of his brother’s gaze. After a moment, Thor cleared his throat, trying to recover. "Ah, well," he stammered, his voice faltering. "How much Loki... enjoys these little exchanges, of course!"

The lie was smooth, but not quite convincing. The nervousness he showcased in the way he tried to avoid his brother’s burning stare betrayed the lack of truth in his words. You narrowed your eyes, glancing between them, but it was Loki’s carefully schooled expression that caught your attention. His face had transformed into one of cold indifference, but you could see the subtle twitch of his jaw and the faint pink tint creeping up the back of his neck.

The others exchanged amused looks, clearly enjoying the subtle spectacle unfolding before them. Natasha, ever the picture of composure, took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving the scene. “Well, this just got interesting,” she noted, her tone dripping with amusement and approval as she surveyed the building tension.

It was obvious now: whatever simmered between you two wasn’t about to end any time soon. It was a game, yes—but one far from finished. And for better or worse, everyone in the room was eager to see how it would unfold.

The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in focus—locked in this silent standoff. Every sound, every movement beyond the two of you felt distant, muted, as if the room had shrunk to nothing more than the space between you and Loki. The others, sensing the growing charge between you, watched with bated breath. This wasn’t just an ordinary exchange—it was something far more intense, something that announced the rivalry to be nearing the breaking point.

His presence loomed over you, suffocating in its intensity. His smirk never wavered, but his eyes seemed to penetrate yours with a force that made your pulse quicken. Neither of you was willing to back down; the silent battle of words and glances was a carefully orchestrated dance, each of you striving to hold the reigns.

Leaning against the bar, you let a teasing smirk curl at the corners of your lips as your gaze locked onto him. “Nice dramatic entrance,” you quipped, your tone light but cutting. “Almost makes me think you’re trying to overcompensate for something else.” Your eyes flicked over him with a deliberate, slow scan, letting the implication settle in the air between you.

Loki’s lips curved into a slow, deliberate smirk, his movements deliberate as he closed the gap between you. He was drawing you in, pulling you into his orbit with each calculated step. Before long, he was towering over you, his broad form casting a shadow over you.

“Such crude language you wield with that tongue of yours,” he tutted in a honeyed whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. His words slid from his lips with measured slowness, each one curling around you like silk, wrapping you tighter with every syllable. “I’d be more than happy to correct you… if you’d allow me.”

You stood straighter, your body thrumming from the weight of his words, refusing to let him dominate the exchange this time. You crossed your arms and met his gaze head-on. “You think you can correct me?” you shot back, your voice cool, but the challenge clear in your eyes. Leaning in slightly, you dared him. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Ah, but the art of manipulating words are such a delight,” Loki purred, his voice thick with velvet, drawing you in with every syllable. His gaze never wavered from yours. “And I’m particularly skilled with them.”

The world seemed to hush, the room quieting until the only thing you could hear was his voice, each word dripping with an intoxicating weight. The tension grew thicker, and he let the silence stretch between you, just long enough to make the air feel too heavy to breathe.

“I recall you had a first taste of it, last session,” he added, his words striking you like a spark, igniting memories of the last time his voice had tangled with yours in a way you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed the rush of heat that rose in your cheeks, forcing your gaze to remain steady. “Last session was nothing,” you sharply replied, narrowing your eyes as if to dare him to push further. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to get to me, Trickster.”

The others were practically buzzing with excitement, leaning in slightly as if they were watching a thrilling game unfold. Sam, always one to stir the pot, leaned toward Natasha with a smirk that could rival Loki’s. “I’ve witnessed some trash talk in my time,” he said, shaking his head with amusement, “but this? This is on another level.”

Clint, watching the exchange with a growing interest, chuckled and shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to be impressed at the comebacks or horrified,” he remarked in disbelief. “It’s like they’re playing some weird, kinky version of fencing.”

Natasha leaned back, her wry smile never faltering, watching with approval. “This is getting good,” she muttered under her breath, her tone almost purring with amusement. She sipped her drink slowly, savoring the tension. “I’d pay to see where this goes.”

Sam shot Natasha a quick, conspiratorial glance before looking back at the two of you. “Hey, don’t get too comfortable,” he warned, his voice laced with mischief. “They’re about to start swinging—metaphorically speaking, of course.” He made a grand, exaggerated fencing motion with his hands, drawing chuckles from the group. “You know, like that,” he added with a grin. “Except this time, the moves are… let’s just say they’re a little more pointed.” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, and even Bruce couldn’t contain a smile.

Tony, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back against his stool, an amused smirk plastered across his face. He watched the tension between you and Loki with a gleeful satisfaction. “Think they’ll kiss and make up?” he asked with a low chuckle, loud enough for everyone to hear. He raised an eyebrow at Steve, whose silent observation had not gone unnoticed.

He cleared his throat, the sharp sound cutting through the growing murmur of the group. The room fell into a sudden, almost uncomfortable silence, as his voice commanded attention. “Alright, alright,” Steve said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. He clapped his hands once, the sharp sound cutting through the air. “We’re here to train, not watch a soap opera,” he added, his voice steady and no-nonsense.

His blue eyes scanned the room, locking on you and Loki for a moment, his gaze narrowing just slightly. It was a silent reminder that there were more pressing matters at hand than your verbal sparring. “So, let’s get focused,” he continued, his tone taking on a more commanding edge. “No more distractions, people.” 

A collective groan of both relief and disappointment spread through the group. The tension between you and Loki had finally been cut, but there was an undeniable sense of disappointment that the banter had been interrupted. The room shifted again, the playful mood dissipating into a more subdued, professional atmosphere. Though, the memory of what had just transpired would no doubt linger long after the session ended.

“Now, let’s move it,” Steve said, gesturing toward the training area with a firm nod. “You’ve all got work to do, and I expect everyone to keep it professional.” His eyes lingered on you and Loki for a moment, as if to remind you both that, despite what was simmering between you, the training was the priority now.

Loki's lips curved into a smile, one that was more like a prelude to something yet to come. His eyes glinted with smug satisfaction, as if he were already savoring the next move in whatever game he was playing. “Until next time, darling,” he saluted, his tone thick with the promise of nearing disaster.

You gave him a half-smile, one that in turned promised that the rivalry wasn’t over and turned to follow the rest of the group to the training area, already feeling the bubbling energy of the upcoming round.

⠀

⠀

The gym session began with an unexpected tranquility, an eerie contrast to the usual chaos of training it had recently taken shape. It was chest and back day, and each Avenger had settled into their familiar routines, the rhythm of their movements blending with the constant clinking of weights and soft murmurs of conversation. For once, everything felt almost ordinary—just another training day, rather than an intense workout of body and mind alike.

You were working alongside Wanda, offering her a bit of encouragement as she powered through her chest exercises. It was nice to have someone to talk to, a welcome distraction from the growing knots of nervousness tangling in your stomach. You both exchanged light banter, chatting about everything outside the gym, while you kept an eye on your own sets. But all the while, your thoughts kept returning to Loki. He was oddly quiet today, no mischievous glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but wonder if he, too, was waiting for the right moment to stir things up.

The session had already taken a lively turn with the Asgardian brothers, but things soon spiraled into a loud mess. As the competition between Thor and Loki grew fiercer, their playful jabs and escalating challenges only served to ramp up the tension in the room. Loki's gaze swept across the space until it finally landed on you. His smirk softened just slightly, replaced by an expression that felt more deliberate, almost as if he were daring you to witness the next act of his show.

Thor, not to be outdone, continued to push the limits. His booming voice filled the gym as he egged his brother on. "You think you’ve got the strength to match my strength? Let’s see if you can keep up with the god of thunder!"

Loki’s smirk was a clear challenge as he lifted the same weight Thor had almost just juggled with, effortlessly matching him. Each press was smooth and controlled, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by the way his back arched with each lift, muscles rippling in perfect harmony. It was a display of strength and grace, one that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

However, in their playful contest of wills, they had unknowingly started to draw attention. Bruce, who had been quietly focusing on his own workout in a far corner of the gym, was caught off guard by the sheer noise and energy the brothers were creating. The weights clanking, the competitive banter, and the occasional loud challenge from Thor began to disrupt Bruce’s routine. As much as he tried to focus on his sets, the vibrations of the room were enough to throw off his concentration.

At one point, their effortless lifts seemed to reverberate repeatedly through the gym, causing the ground beneath Bruce to tremble slightly. The sound of weights crashing back onto the rack sent a sharp jolt through the air, causing Bruce to flinch each time. He rubbed his temples in frustration, his irritation barely masked behind his calm exterior.

"Can you guys keep it down a bit?" Bruce muttered to himself, trying to block out the noise, but it was no use. The brothers' rivalry only grew louder, their playful insults and laughter ringing through the space like a storm cloud threatening to burst.

At the next brutal noise, the scientist had had enough. He grumbled under his breath, packing up his things. "I swear, those testosterone-filled aliens and their dick-measuring contests," he muttered, shooting a quick glance at the Asgardians, who were too caught up in their contest to notice.

Without a word, he retreated to the quieter back section of the gym, moving toward the machines where he could work in peace. The machines were further away from the weights area, but at least they offered some reprieve from the chaos. As he walked toward the back, his footsteps were steady but filled with a sense of relief. He could already feel his growing anxiety lifting as he left the noise behind.

Meanwhile, the brothers' competition raged on, with Thor’s grin widening as he added more weight and Loki effortlessly lifted the new load, his body gliding through the motions with ease. The display of absurd power continued, the brothers pushing each other to new heights, oblivious to the disruption they were causing.

Every movement Loki made, every lift of the weights, was a hypnotic display of strength. His back muscles rippled with precision, the tension in his frame apparent with every press, every stretch of his body. Each flex seemed almost choreographed, as if he was aware of the effect it had, and your eyes couldn’t look away. His body moved with fluidity, an effortless grace that made every lift seem almost effortless, but you knew better. It was controlled power, and the sheer magnetism of it made your heart race faster with each passing second.

No matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn't help but be drawn back to watching him. You could feel your pulse quickening, the attraction growing stronger with every passing moment. Your mind tried to resist, tried to focus elsewhere, but his form—his body, mostly—kept pulling you back. You shook your head, hoping to clear the fog clouding your thoughts, but it only lingered, his image burned into your retinas.

It was maddening—the pull to keep watching, to continue visually feasting on him as he pushed the weights higher, his muscles flexing and straining with each rep. But you knew you had to focus, force yourself back into your own workout. You took a deep breath, forcing your attention back to your set, trying to push the images of him out of your mind. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, every time Loki added more weight, every time his body moved with such effortlessness, your mind betrayed you. It was impossible not to be drawn back to him.

"Don’t get distracted," Wanda teased, her voice slicing through your turbulent thoughts with a playful yet knowing tone. She had caught the subtle shift in your gaze. "He’s lifting weights, not you in your head."

You chuckled nervously, warmth creeping up your neck as you struggled to mask the growing tension inside. "Can’t help it if he makes a spectacle out of it," you muttered, uncomfortable under Wanda’s sharp, knowing stare.

Her eyes flicked over to Loki, who was now adding more weight to the barbell with an almost casual precision. His movements were effortless, each shift in his posture drawing attention to the taut muscles of his back as he pushed the weight up. The strain in his arms only emphasized the strength beneath his skin, the tension in his frame stretching the muscles of his back, making them stand out in a tantalizing display of raw force. 

Wanda raised an eyebrow, a sly smile curling her lips as she took in the scene. "There’s a lot of tension between you two today," she observed lightly, though there was a subtle intrigue laced in her voice.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth flooding your face betrayed the truth. "It’s nothing. Just… your usual bantering."

Wanda’s smile only widened, her voice dropping to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper as she leaned closer. "‘Usual bantering,’ huh? If it’s nothing like you say it is, then why do I feel the electricity between you two from across the room?"

Before you could even formulate a response, Loki did something you should’ve anticipated but somehow hadn’t—after all, he always had a knack for surprising you. 

With a smooth flick of his wrist, he got rid of his shirt, revealing his sculpted back in all its glory. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though each stretch was calculated to highlight the fluid grace of his body, ensuring that every muscle was on display. He wasn’t simply lifting weights; he was performing, putting on a show, a carefully crafted performance meant to captivate and tease. The muscles in his back rippled as he shifted, tightening with every adjustment.

You bit your lip, hard, forcing yourself to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape at the sinful image in your mind. What is wrong with you? Your rival, your competition wasn't someone you should be thinking of in that way. And yet, watching him lift, so confident, so composed, made everything else fade away and your mind turn to mush. All rational thoughts were overwhelmed by the flood of desire, the need that burned like a fire within you, fierce and untamed. 

A wild thought flickered through your mind, one you couldn’t quite push away: the idea of running your fingers along the ridges of his spine, feeling each muscle shift and contract beneath his skin, the subtle texture of his back smooth yet firm under your touch. The thought of raking your nails down his back due to being lost in the thralls of pleasure, feeling him tense and arch under your touch, was a dangerous temptation that you could hardly control.

You wished, in vain, that you could just reach out and trace the ridges of his back, feel the rippling muscles shift and contract beneath your fingers, but you had to stop yourself. You couldn’t let him win this round—not like this.

Thor, who had been lifting beside him, wasn’t even trying to hide the smug grin that spread across his face. He shot a quick glance in your direction then proceeded to turn to him and spoke in hushed tones, and it was then that the realization hit you: this little game between you and Loki had morphed into a twisted battle of alliances. Thor had just completely betrayed you on behalf of his brother. That bitch.

Loki’s smirk deepened as he caught your lingering gaze. He didn’t say a word, but the playful challenge in the air was undeniable. You could feel the weight of it pressing on you, the urge to stay focused slipping away. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was baiting you—and it was working.

Wanda, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your expression instantly. Her lips curled into a sly smile, her voice dropping lower, thick with amusement. "Oh, this is going to be good," she whispered, clearly enjoying every second of the tension building between you two.

You shot her a look, your face a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "This isn’t fair," you muttered, your gaze still fixed on the god, who continued to lift the weights with effortless precision, the muscles of his back shifting smoothly with each movement. "How am I supposed to focus when he looks like a damn sculpture?"

You sighed, trying to rein in your runaway thoughts, but the fantasies lingered, unwanted. "I’m going to jump him in the next ten seconds if he keeps this up," you continued, your voice thick with frustration. "And I don’t mean it in a ‘beat him down’ way… well, maybe I do, but only down there."

Wanda stifled a laugh and nudged you playfully, her tone still light, but now edged with a sense of seriousness. "You’ve got to hold it together," she teased. "You’re not falling for this, right? You’re stronger than that."

You looked at her, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips as you came to a bitter revelation. Loki was trying to get under your skin, and you couldn’t let him. "You’re right," you declared, rolling your eyes. "I can’t let him mess with me like this. He’s just baiting me, and I’m not gonna fall for it."

Wanda gave a satisfied nod, pleased with your change in attitude. "That’s the spirit. Don’t let him steal your focus. You’ve got this."

With newfound determination, you straightened your back. "Alright, enough of this," you muttered under your breath. "Let’s see how he handles a little competition."

Your eyes narrowed, chest tightening with resolve. The game was on, and this time, you weren’t going to let him have the upper hand.

You politely excused yourself from Wanda’s company and made your way toward the quieter back section of the gym. The hustle and bustle of the weight area faded behind you, the rhythmic clinking of metal and the low murmurs of conversation becoming a distant hum. You hoped the isolation would offer the clarity you were searching for—some peace to collect your thoughts.

In a secluded corner, you found Bruce, focused intently on a pull-up bar. His brow furrowed in concentration, but the strain was evident, his grip tight on the bar as he attempted yet again to pull himself up. His frustration was written clearly across his face, though he masked it with determined silence.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to interrupt his focused effort. But when you saw the way his muscles tensed in vain, unable to lift himself even a few inches, you couldn’t help but step in. “Need some help?” you asked softly, your voice calm, yet laced with curiosity.

He let out a deep sigh, a touch of frustration creeping into his words. “I’m trying the pull-up bar exercise,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “But I can’t seem to get up there.”

Tilting your head slightly, you studied his form for a moment, then took a step closer. “Show me,” you encouraged gently, offering a supportive tone.

Bruce gave a small, resigned nod before trying once more. With a quiet grunt, he pulled himself up again, but only for a brief second before his arms gave out, and he dropped back down, his exhale sharp and frustrated. “See?” he said, clearly disappointed. “I just can’t do it.”

You smiled reassuringly, your eyes warm with understanding. “Maybe start with something a bit different,” you suggested kindly. “Have you ever tried the ‘Dead Hang’ exercise?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your suggestion. “What’s that?”

Before you could explain, a loud clatter suddenly echoed through the gym—the unmistakable crash of a heavy weight hitting the floor. The sound reverberated across the room, and instinctively, your eyes shifted toward the source.

Nearby, a small crowd had gathered, applauding and praising Loki, who had just completed an impressive lift. “Nice job, Loki! Impressive as always!” one voice called out with admiration.

An impulsive thought flashed through your mind—daring, bold, something designed to enhance your stakes.

Turning back to Bruce, you flashed a sly grin, a hint of mischief curling at the corners of your lips. “I’ll show you,” you said, but your words carried a weight to them, an undercurrent of something more, in a tone that made your friend blink in confusion.

Slowly, you began to unzip your jacket, making sure each movement was drawn out. This wasn’t just about showing him the exercise; it was about showing someone else, too. The sudden sound of the zipper seemed to almost echo through the gym, a quiet invitation to anyone who might be watching. Finally, you revealed what you had carefully chosen to wear, an outfit designed to put the odds on your side. The effect was immediate.

You could feel Loki’s eyes immediately zeroing on you, and every detail seemed to draw him in like a magnet. The fabric of your outfit clung to your skin with a delicate stretch, outlining every curve and muscle as you moved. The shorts, the tight-fitting gym bra, the length of your legs accentuated by high socks—they all played their part. As you turned slightly, the fabric shifted and clung to your form, showcasing the subtle curve of your back, the way your muscles rippled with the slightest movement. Every inch of you was on display, and Norns did he noticed every part of it.

A loud thud echoed across the gym, followed by a sharp curse. “Damn it.” Loki’s voice rang out, laced with frustration, and you couldn’t help but smile inwardly. He had lost focus—your presence had distracted him so thoroughly that he’d accidentally dropped the weight he’d been holding. The sound of the barbell hitting the floor seemed to reverberate through the space, drawing everyone’s attention for a split second.

You couldn’t help but fight the smirk that threatened to tug at your lips. “I’ll show you what it’s like,” you said, your voice low, but full of intent as you took another deliberate step closer to Bruce. Those words were certainly meant for someone else, too.

You approached the pull-up bar with careful intent, your fingers wrapping around the cold metal. The exercise you were about to perform required complete focus and control. With a deep breath, you gripped the bar firmly, allowing your body to hang freely below it. As you did so, you consciously relaxed every muscle, letting your body fall into the natural stretch of the position. It was a simple exercise, but one that emphasized both strength and the fluidity of the body. Yours curved slightly as the weight of your form stretched out from the bar, loosening up your spine as the contours of your waist and hips became more pronounced with each passing second.

Loki’s gaze flickered toward you once again, his breath hitching at the sight. Every shift in your body, every movement of your muscles, sent a pulse of heat through him. He grit his teeth, the dirty thoughts that had been simmering beneath the surface rushing back to the forefront of his mind. The way your body stretched, your back curving just the right way—it was almost too much to bear. He tried to focus, to ground himself in the task at hand, but his attention kept being pulled back to you.

You let out a breath, your body still hanging for a moment longer before you spoke to Bruce, your voice cool but with a slight edge of confidence. "Relax your entire body," you instructed, your tone a touch haughty. "The point of this exercise is to let the weight of your body do the work. It helps open up your shoulders, stretch your spine, and build the necessary strength for proper pull-ups. Start by hanging for ten seconds at a time and gradually increase the duration. With practice, you'll be able to pull yourself up."

You paused for a moment, letting your body hang freely before pulling yourself up from the bar with smooth, controlled strength. As you reached the top of the movement, you held yourself there for just a second longer than necessary, your muscles tightening, flexing in the process. The motion was fluid, almost sensual, and the way your body moved with purpose sent a provocative ripple through the air. Loki couldn’t look away as he watched you, every shift in your body feeling like a challenge, an invitation. A low pained groan slipped from his throat, the sound nearly imperceptible, but the heat of his gaze on you was undeniable.

Thor, who had been observing his brother, glanced over in confusion as Loki seemed to stiffen, his eyes darkening in a way that made the tension between the two of them palpable. "Are you alright, Loki?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

The god didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still locked onto you as you effortlessly performed the pull-up, your muscles tightening and flexing with each motion. It was an almost agonizingly slow showcase of strength, one that seemed to taunt him, and he could feel every inch of his body reacting to it.

Oh, how he longed to run his hands over the smooth expanse of your back, savoring the lean strength evident beneath. The curve of your waist and flare of your hips beckoned like a siren's call, making his fingers twitch with the desire to explore, to map out every dip and swell. He could almost feel the heat of your body, like the flames of Muspelheim against his palms as he imagined gripping your hips and guiding you down, down, down until you were sheathed tight around his hardness. 

Another groan threatened to spill out at the vision, his shorts growing a little too tight for his liking. Gods, the things he wanted to do to you, with you, if only you would finally admit defeat. To run his tongue along the elegant curve of your throat, down to flick against your pulse point as he spread you out before him like a feast. To sink his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, marking you, branding you as his. To work you open on his fingers and tongue until you are dripping and ready, then push into your tight, wet heat inch by delicious inch. He'd rock into you slow and deep, savoring every gasp and moan, building the pleasure higher and higher until you were keening, lost to everything but the feel of him moving inside you.

Without a word, he spun on his hee and strode off toward another station, leaving Thor, in his wake who scratched his head, visibly puzzled. “Brother? What are you—” But Loki paid him no mind, his sharp steps echoing as he distanced himself.

You caught sight of Bruce still grappling with the pull-up bar, his arms trembling as he strained to lift himself even an inch. His frustration was evident in the tight set of his jaw and the way he grumbled to himself under his breath. The pull-up bar clearly wasn’t yielding any victories for him today.

Walking over with purpose, you kept your voice calm but firm. “Bruce, let’s try something different for now. We’ll come back to this once you’ve built up the strength for it.”

The scientist sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck with a self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know... I’m not great with this stuff. Maybe I should just stick to what I know.”

You smiled gently, tilting your head slightly to meet his hesitant gaze. “Come on, Bruce. Trust me on this. Baby steps, right? Let’s just take one in a different direction for now.”

He hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin line, before finally exhaling in defeat. “Fine. Lead the way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if this goes south.”

With a reassuring nod, you led him to the chest fly machine, your voice calm and encouraging as you adjusted the seat and weights for him. You were focused on making sure everything was just right for Bruce, but what you hadn’t fully accounted for was the proximity of this particular station to Loki, who was seated at the lat pulldown machine just a few feet away. His back was turned, but the tension in his posture was impossible to miss. Like a storm cloud, it hung over the room—dark and ominous, an undeniable sense of impending eruption lingering in the air.

For a moment, you found yourself distracted, your eyes unconsciously drawn to the muscles in his back as they shifted with every movement, the strength in his form almost hypnotic. The well-defined lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed under his skin, it was hard to look away. But you quickly shook yourself out of the moment, snapping back to the task at hand. Focus, you reminded yourself, silently chastising your wandering thoughts.

“That’s it, Bruce. Slow, steady movements. Just like that, don’t rush it. You’ve got this,” you said, your tone supportive as he began his exercise. But even as you spoke, you couldn’t help noticing how Loki’s head tilted slightly in your direction, his sharp ears catching every word.

The creak of the lat pulldown cables drew your attention. Loki’s hands gripped the bar with unnecessary force, his movements precise yet edged with irritation. The sound of metal straining filled the air as he finally broke his silence. “Do you mind?” His voice cut through the room like a blade, low and seething with disdain.

You turned to face him, your brow furrowing. “What do you want?” you retaliated, a mix of confusion and irritation lacing your tone.

Loki swiveled his head slowly, emerald eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. “Your incessant commentary,” he drawled, each word dripping with contempt. “It’s... distracting.”

You scoffed, planting your hands on your hips as frustration bubbled to the surface. “Are you serious right now? I’m helping Bruce. Maybe focus on your own workout instead of eavesdropping.”

Loki chuckled—low, humorless, and maddeningly smug. Leaning back slightly, he released the bar, letting it rise with a deliberate clang. “Oh, I’m focused,” he said, his smirk deepening. “But don’t insult my intelligence by pretending this isn’t calculated. Using Banner as a pawn? Transparent. And frankly, beneath you.”

Bruce, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally frowned and glanced between the two of you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice quiet but tinged with irritation.

Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you turned to Loki. “Oh, here we go again. Not everything is about you, Loki! Believe it or not, I’m just trying to help.”

Loki raised a brow, his smug expression unwavering. “Help?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “Is that what you call it? Dressing like that, speaking like that? Admit it——you’re dabbling in something you don’t even understand.”

“Wha—Excuse me? This is rich, coming from the guy who prances around half-naked! You—”

Bruce abruptly stood, his chair scraping against the floor. His voice cut through your escalating argument with an uncharacteristic edge of authority. “Stop!”

Both you and Loki turned to him, startled. The doctor rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was a sign that things had gone too far.

He took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists. “What is this?” he demanded, looking between the two of you. “You’re bickering like kids on a playground, and I’m just—what? A prop in your ridiculous feud?”

Your chest tightened as you started to explain. “Bruce, no, I swear it’s not like that—”

“Don’t,” Bruce cut in, his tone sharp and trembling with barely contained anger. “Don’t try to sugarcoat it. I may not be as quick as some people, but I’m not blind. I see what’s happening here.”

Bruce turned his glare to Loki, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “And you—you think you’re clever, don’t you? Always playing games. Well, newsflash—I’m not interested in being part of them.”

His breathing became heavier, his body trembling—not from nervousness, but from something darker, angrier.

Your heart sank as you realized what was happening. “Bruce, just take a breath, okay? Let’s calm down—”

But it was already too late. His muscles bulged, his skin darkened into a familiar green, and the roar of the Hulk filled the gym.

Loki’s posture stiffened, the usual cocky swagger evaporating as the Hulk’s colossal frame shifted toward him. For a split second, a flash of pure terror flickered across his sharp features, a haunting echo from the Battle of New York when the Hulk had sent him crashing into the ground like a discarded rag. The fear was brief, almost imperceptible, but enough to betray him.

Before he could react to the imminent danger, Loki’s hand shot out with a swift, panicked motion, gripping your arm. “Hold still,” he snapped, panic creeping into the edges of his words. You barely had a chance to process his command before a surge of green magic enveloped you both, and the world blurred.

When the world came back into focus, you found yourself near the shake bar, the sounds of destruction still reverberating in the air. Almost immediately, the deafening crash of the green giant’s fist pounding into the floor where Loki had just been standing shook the entire gym. The floor shattered under the impact, sending tiles and twisted metal flying in all directions, and the mutant’s fury seemed to crack the very foundation of the gym.

The Hulk roared, his rage transforming the once serene space into a battleground. He flung gym equipment effortlessly, sending heavy machines soaring through the air as if they were paperweights. Chaos erupted, and everyone nearby scrambled to find shelter, the panic rippling through the room.

“Loki!” you shouted, snapping out of your dazed confusion, yanking your arm free from his grasp. “What did you just do?” Your frustration was raw, even as the remnants of Loki’s spell still crackled in the air around you.

Loki's gaze darted over the chaos, his eyes momentarily filled with the same terror from earlier. “I saved your life, you ungrateful—” he began, but his words were interrupted by another piece of equipment flying past, narrowly missing you both.

In the midst of the madness, Steve Rogers appeared, cutting through the mayhem with his usual calm but commanding presence. His shield was already raised to deflect debris, and his eyes locked onto you both, burning with frustration. “What did you two do?” His voice was sharp, his anger evident as he assessed the destruction around him.

Before either of you could answer, Steve held up a hand to silence you. “No. You know what, I don’t even want to hear it. Whatever this is, it ends now.” The sheer force of his frustration was palpable in the air.

Without skipping a beat, he turned to Natasha, who had approached cautiously, her demeanor calm but alert. “Nat’, calm him down. Now.”

The red head nodded, turning her voice soft and steady as she made her way toward the Hulk. Her presence seemed to cause a momentary hesitation in him, but it was clear that the damage had already been done. The gym was a wreck.

Steve shifted his attention back to you and Loki, his voice cold and authoritative. “This session is officially postponed until tomorrow. And you two—” he gestured between you and the god with a firm, pointed finger, “—will clean up every inch of this gym before dawn. No excuses.”

With that, he turned, muttering under his breath about “grown adults acting like children,” his steps echoing as he left.

As the dust settled and the rumble of destruction faded, you whipped around to face the one responsible for the mess. “See, this is your fault!” you accused, your voice rising with frustration. “If you hadn’t been so focused on antagonizing me—”

His eyes narrowed sharply, his lips twisting into a thin line as he interrupted you. “My fault?” he hissed, his tone low and dripping with venom. “If you hadn’t been playing the role of coach, none of this would’ve happened.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Oh, please. You were the one who couldn’t keep your jealousy in check! You’re so petty, it’s unbelievable.” 

“Petty?” Loki sneered, stepping closer, his voice dripping with indignation. “I am not petty. I simply refuse to be ignored.” 

The two of you kept throwing accusations, a fierce back-and-forth of words filling the already charged air. You stepped forward, jabbing your finger toward his chest, your anger boiling over. “Fine!” you snapped, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Tomorrow, when we fix this mess, we’ll figure out who’s really at fault.”

Loki’s smirk returned, dark and calculating, his gaze shifting with a mischievous glint. He slammed his hands onto the nearby counter, leaning in until his presence was overwhelming, the space between you growing impossibly small. His voice dropped, laced with something far more dangerous. “Gladly,” he purred, his smirk widening. “But don’t expect to come out of this unscathed, darling. When I settle things, I make sure it’s unforgettable.”

Your breath caught in your chest as his gaze lingered, heavy with meaning. His words held a promise—one that left the air thick with anticipation. Then, without another word, he straightened and turned away, his smirk still in place as he strode out of the ruined gym. You stood there, caught between the remnants of a shattered gym and a body that pounded in more than one place. 

Tomorrow, everything would finally be settled, and the weight of it all seemed to hang in the air like a promise of more to come.

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[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

If a version of Midnight Sun existed for each following instalment of the Twilight series (New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn), what do you think they’d be called/what would you call them and what (new) scenes would be in them?

Anon, you speak my greatest dream. I want this in my life. If no one else does, then I am the sole person who does. If there is not one person who wants this, it means that I have died.

I need this.

But for now, I can only imagine (and no doubt fail miserably to what it would be in actuality).

New Moon

The thing is that Meyer would also want to call this New Moon for the reason that she called it New Moon for Bella: this is a book about hopelessness. Edward leaves, Bella's soulmate, she literally cannot survive without him and this book is her discovering "oh, yeah, I literally cannot survive without him" (and making friends with Jacob but let's be real Meyer was never that into that).

It's a book where the moon, the light, is gone.

For Edward, we have the same narrative, he tries to leave Bella for her own good, fails, has a miserable time, and comes crawling back only to find that he's made everything worse.

But because Edward is more dramatic, and to thematically work with Midnight Sun (named thus as Bella is the unexpected sunlight in what should be the darkest of Edward's nights) we have Polar Night which is the phenomenon opposite of Midnight Sun where instead of the sun never setting at all we have the night never ending.

As for what would be in it. My friend, my beautiful friend, everything would be in it.

We'd get the scene where Edward bullies his family into leaving, many of them having reservations, and then steals all Bella's photographs and tries and fails to steal the stereo out of her car. We'd get scenes of Edward fantasizing about Bella marrying and holding hands with MiKe NEWtoN and it being entirely too much for him. We get all of the birthday party, period, which from Edward's point of view would no doubt be insane.

We have Edward so fucking depressed that he feels he's bringing the family down and chooses to leave on the vague pretext of catching Victoria. Then he doesn't catch Victoria and loses her in Mexico but is so depressed he just keeps going south until he hits Brazil.

Where he stays, and per what he says to Bella (which is undoubtedly not the entire truth) he was fucking miserable and did nothing for months. Did he have a Hallucination Bella who told him not to eat human food because it'd make him sick? Did he write a rock opera about Bella Swan only to realize it didn't live up to real life and burn it in a fit of despair and anger? What about the family calling to check in? We know that happened, Rosalie could reach Edward and he answered, so did they just call and quietly try to ask if Edward's coming back home or not? You know? Anytime? Edward?

And then of course his pleading for death with the Volturi, being told no, planning his elaborate massacre-suicide before settling on good old suicide without any murder and Bella being alive and that whole debacle from his point of view including "OH NO OTHER MAN MOVED IN" when he realizes Jacob's... kind of... a thing...

Everything would be new in part because we see so little of Edward and given the insanity in Midnight Sun that was never in Twilight I can't even guess to what Edward got up to for months in Rio.

It could be fucking anything.

Eclipse

Or "Edward did a bad thing and is now very nervous" the novel. As for what it's call, this is less clear as we have to go with the sun/moon themes here, and Eclipse is already taken. If we're allowed weather related events maybe "Eye of the Hurricane" as there's a storm out there and this book is about Edward barely holding his shit together. This is his nightmare scenario in every way.

Bella has a new love interest, a friend she believes is platonic who is very interested in her, and worse, Edward actually does admire and is hands down in Edward's opinion the better man for her to be with. Bella's changed when he was gone and is now an adrenaline junky, what else about her has changed? How much did he miss? She's involved in werewolves who all hate Edward, for good reason, and want her to leave him, for good reason. Edward has discovered that he actually can't leave Bella, Alice was right, even though he wants to be that strong desperately. Bella got the family to agree to turn her and they'll do it, Edward's barely gotten her to agree to be turned by him instead, but she's hemming and hawing about marrying and committing to him and she wants him to bang him (which will likely lead to her death)

Edward is straight up not having a good time, bro.

So, we'd get Edward's insane plans to keep Bella and Jacob apart, his meeting Bella in the road after her looking like he'd love nothing more than to pull The Terminator where he chases her car down. We get Edward's increasing nervousness that Bella "wants to be with him forever" but "doesn't want to marry him" (which for Edward, understandably as he doesn't have Bella's background, is something that just doesn't compute). And there's Jacob, kissing Bella, warming her up at night, thinking very dirty things when Edward's sitting right there internally screaming.

And of course, offscreen things with the family, likely venting about the Denali who are leaving them to die because they won't let them kill the children Native Americans, wondering if they're all going to die in this fight, even more of the tent scene with Jacob (which I'm sure, somehow, I'm sure, got very homoerotic in there). Probably sobbing to Alice "I fucked up" and then hating Rosalie BECAUSE THIS IS ALL HER FAULT HISS HISS.

And of course, what we know he sees from Bree and perhaps the discussion with the family that Bella never got to be privy to.

And I imagine a lot of fantasies of Bella pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies.

Breaking Dawn

I'm going to bow out for this one too, Meyer would want to name it that. Maybe we get "Hailey's Comet" or something, in that Edward has related Bella to a comet streaking across the bleak sky of his life and this is him learning to accept to be happy and perhaps good things are allowed to happen to him.

But anyways.

I mean.

We get Breaking Dawn.

We get Edward gearing himself up for sex and asking the family how to bang a woman. We know he did this. Canonically he confesses to Bella, in the weirdest manner possible, that he asked his entire family how to do it (and it made it clear that Carlisle didn't really approve and was pretty :/ and "don't do it" about all of it). We get the family probably watching Alice like hawks because they're waiting for her to tell them if Bella lived or died through intercourse. We get Edward interrogating the maid in Portuguese and god knows what they even said to one another but it had to be wild.

We get Edward planning Bella's abortion, the betrayal by Rosalie yet again, and then more planning of her forced abortion with Jacob and his opinion on Jacob turning from "respected rival" into "my only friend".

Then we get Edward's complete flip on Renesmee which must have been... I don't even know. But he'd be thinking she's the spawn of Satan before that (in the most Edward manner possible) and then that she's Jesus after that (in the most Edward manner possible).

Then of course there's "my son, Jacob" and honestly probably fantasizing about an adult Renesmee pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies. Let's be real here. and just...

Look.

I can't predict this.

What we saw of Breaking Dawn was already insane and this would only be more so because it's Edward. There's so much we don't see as Bella pays 0 attention to the other vampires and to the family at large and Edward would just...

I have no idea.

It would just be madness.

TL;DR

I need this.

[scarlett-ink]

Secret Skeleton for @pocketcrimes :

Pumpkin Pixels

Summary: Halloween season has hit the Pizzaplex. Eclipse (Ruin) and Starfall are enjoying some holiday fun when an unexpected guest joins in. word count: 3.2k Starfall belongs to @pocketcrimes go check them out!

Halloween was fast approaching the Pizzaplex. A chill was in the air, brisking in through the doors the customers entered through, with many a staff bot sweeping up stray leaves that had been tricked in. The bright neon glow of the place was now accompanied by spooky banners, posters advertising events, and cardboard cutouts of Halloween themed characters. Attendance was up and so were the prices.

The guests were not the only ones joining in on the festivities. Each animatronic had new events scheduled for guest from making spider paper pals, a trick or treat event in rock star row where children went to each Galmrock’s room for candy, a Halloween themed dance party with DJ Music Man, and so on.

The spirit of the season for the animatronics was not limited to working hours. All the animatronics were taking time in their off hours to have some fun, particularly in the Superstar Daycare.

While Sun and Moon worked with the kids, currently making pipe cleaner spiders to match the paper pals, the other animatronics in the daycare were enjoying some downtime by getting into the spirit of the season.

 Eclipse and Starfall were in the balcony room above the ball pit, the walls littered with children’s drawings with many of the newest ones having a Halloween theme. The two sat across from one another, a couple of pumpkins on the floor between them.

The plan was to paint them since carving them and all the extra work that required would be an even bigger mess than the daycare usually handled. Sun and Moon had enough sticky messes to deal with between the glitter glue and the sticky fingers of children running around all day, they did not need globs of pumpkin innards and pumpkin seeds in their room. Painting was a safer option, both in the mess sense and the actual safety sense.

Starfall and Eclipse were sitting on top of an old tablecloth that had been laid out to help avoid making a mess on the floor. It was already proving to have been a wise idea, drops of paint littering the thing. Though there was still plenty of paint on the floor anyway, something they were sure Sun would complain about later.

But for now, the two were enjoying each other’s company and painting pumpkins. Each were currently working on fresh, orange canvases. Starfall had already painted two pumpkins and Eclipse had done three.

The first of Starfall’s pumpkins had been a simple, traditional silly face. A big painted on smile with upturned eyes in a triangular shape. The second one was of Eclipse’s face, which Eclipse found endearing. There was also some tape and colored paper used to liven up the pumpkins, Starfall having attached paper triangles on the sides of the one pumpkin to mimic Eclipse’s rays, he would work on a paper nightcap for the pumpkin when he was done painting the rest since that took a bit more work than just cutting out triangle shapes with safety scissors.

Eclipse’s pumpkins were in a similar vein to Starfall’s second pumpkin, with one having Sun’s face, the second Moon’s, and the third being Starfall’s. Eclipse’s pumpkins also had the paper cutouts taped to them, at least the ones that needed them. The hats for Moon and Starfall’s pumpkin designs still needed to be made once Eclipse was done with his other pumpkins.

“What’s your next pumpkin design going to be?” Starfall asked, tilting his head. His cap dragging on the floor as he did.

“Hmm, not sure,” Eclipse paused in thought for a moment. “Maybe I could-.”

Bzzt

Eclipse was cut off by a sound coming from somewhere else in the room. It had sounded electrical, a crackle of some sort.

“What was that?” Starfall leaned to the side to look behind Eclipse.

“Not sure,” Eclipse began. Before he could continue, Starfall stood from his spot, pumpkin still in hand.

The noise sounded like it had come from the secret little room connected to this one via a little blue tube crawl space.

Bzzt.

There it was again. Starfall bent down, crawling through the tube to the other room. His upper pair of arms held the pumpkin while the bottom pair were used to crawl along. The plastic creaked and shifted under his weight, and when he arrived on the other side he discovered the source of the noise to be an old arcade cabinet.

He had seen it once before when first exploring back here, but it had never turned on before so it was little more than something to look at. The arcade cabinet was predominantly a sky blue, with red trim around the edges of the machine. A pattern of fluffy clouds and colorful balloons covered the side of the cabinet, accompanied by Sun’s face in the sky and Balloon Boy floating thanks to some balloons in his hand.

Bzzt bzzt.

It made the sound again, louder this time. The blank screen booted to life, a soft staticky sound starting to hum from it.

Eclipse had stood from his spot at this point. “Find the noise?” he called.

“Yeah it’s-,” Starfall approached the arcade cabinet, carefully reaching out a hand to touch the controls, but was cut off when he did so.

Bzzt bzzt bzzt.

Starfall drew his hand back at a tiny little shock. The noise increased in intensity and then the screen went to a garble of pixeled static. The screen began to let off a soft yellow and orange glow, and Starfall watched as the pixels on the screen seemed to bleed through into reality. Pixels danced in the air around the screen and then a clawed hand appeared out of the screen.

The colors were a dark, rusty red and black with glowing yellow joints for the knuckles, and the modeling of the hand and arm resembled that of the other daycare attendants. The arm even had a ribbon and bells wrapped around their wrist. The hand gripped one side of the arcade cabinet before another hand emerged from out of the screen and did the same to the other side of the cabinet.

The hands pulled and pushed forward a rayed head through the screen. It resembled Sun’s face only with an extra, smaller set of yellow rays surrounding the main set of orange rays. Its eyes were glowing yellow, and so was its fanged grin.

“Hello!” his voice came out staticky and at awkward, shifting pitches. Pixels were radiating off of him as a second pair of arms emerged out of the screen, coming to rest on the control panel of the machine.

“Is someone else in there?” Eclipse asked from just outside the plastic tube.

“There most certainly is~” his grin widened as he spoke.

“Oh!” Starfall leaned forward, no concept of the personal space he could’ve been breaching. “Who are you, new friend?” he asked eagerly.

“Quite eager, aren’t you?” he laughed before continuing. “You can call me Eclipse.”

“Eclipse? You can’t be Eclipse, that’s Eclipse,” Starfall turned back toward the entryway, pointing to where Eclipse was on the other side of the tube. The Eclipse in the arcade cabinet let out a little scoff.

“That’s obviously a different Eclipse,” he said.

“Oh, well…maybe we could make it easier to not mix you two up. We could call you…Arcade Eclipse or-,” Starfall glanced up at the title on the arcade cabinet. “Balloon World Eclipse?”

“Hmm I suppose Arcade Eclipse should suffice. And it’s faster than saying ‘Balloon World’ every time,” Arcade Eclipse seemed to accept the decision.

“What’re you doing in a game? Why are you out now? Can you come out and join us?! Oh, that would be sooooo fun!” Starfall rambled.

“Well, I’d require some assistance to fully leave the machine, I could only escape this far because you touched the controls.” Arcade Eclipse made no attempt to explain or give answers to Starfall’s first two questions, but Starfall was too eager over the possibility of a new friend to mind. He cared little about where this new friend came from anyway, more concerned with where this new possible friendship was going instead. “Hmm. What do you have there?” Arcade Eclipse gestured to the pumpkin still in Starfall’s upper pair of hands.

“Oh, this? We’re painting pumpkins for Halloween! You should join us!” Starfall lifted his lower pair of arms. “You said you need help, right? I’ll pull you out! It won’t shock me again, will it?”

“One way to find out!” Arcade Eclipse grabbed onto Starfall’s hands with his upper pair of arms while using the lower pair to push against the arcade cabinet.

Starfall pulled, with all the strength he could muster, and Arcade Eclipse slowly made his way fully out of the arcade cabinet.

Bzzt bzzt bzzt BZZT.

With one final tug, Arcade Eclipse was free of the confines of the arcade cabinet. The electrical hum of sounds from the machine faded away, Arcade Eclipse dusting himself off. A few more pixels radiated off of him as he did.

“There we go! Now you can paint with us, come on!” Starfall pulled Arcade Eclipse along behind him back towards the little plastic tube they had crawled through. Arcade Eclipse was cut off guard by the tug, nearly stumbling as he was forced to follow along. “Eclipse! Meet our new friend who’s decorating pumpkins with us!” Starfall beamed as he came out the other side of the tube, Eclipse waiting for him there.

Once Starfall moved aside, Arcade Eclipse climbed out after him. “This is Arcade Eclipse! He’ll be joining us in the fun!”

“Hello, nice to meet you,” Eclipse greeted, taking in the four armed sight before him.

“Likewise,” Arcade Eclipse looked Eclipse up and down before turning his attention to the pumpkins laid out on the tablecloth across the floor. Before he could speak again Starfall grabbed him by the hands again and started walking towards where the pumpkins were, pulling him along.

“Come on, come on! Oh, here, you can paint this one!” Starfall stopped pulling once they both arrived to the tablecloth, turning to Arcade Eclipse and passing the unpainted pumpkin in his hands to him. “Sit, sit!” Starfall encouraged, taking his own seat where he had been before his little investigation of the sound.

Eclipse joined him, returning to his own spot as well. Arcade Eclipse remained standing there for a moment, glancing between the two and shooting a glance to the balcony before returning his gaze to the pumpkins.

He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to entertain this idea.

Arcade Eclipse took a seat between and to the side of Eclipse and Starfall. He stared at the pumpkin in his hands, turning it this way and that to examine it.

“Do you know how you’re going to decorate it?” Starfall asked curiously, holding out a paintbrush to him.

“Hmm, not sure painting in particular is really my thing. Though I do have an idea~,” Arcade Eclipse held the pumpkin in his lower pair of hands, while using one of the top ones to drag a clawed digit down the skin of the pumpkin.

There was a slight sound of singeing and as Arcade Eclipse dragged his finger along the pumpkin a burned, etched in line followed.

“Oh my,” Eclipse said, leaning over to watch.

“WOW! That’s amazing!” Starfall leaned over as well, getting much closer to Arcade Eclipse than Eclipse had. “Just be careful the only thing you burn is the pumpkin,” he reminded. Safety was important after all.

After a moment to ensure Arcade Eclipse was being careful, Starfall went back to working on his last pumpkin. Soon Eclipse did the same.

Eclipse was planning on making this last pumpkin be a little painting of him, Sun, Moon, and Starfall, but now he was adding Arcade Eclipse to the mix in an effort to be friendly.

Starfall was making his last pumpkin be Arcade Eclipse’s face, similar to the pumpkin he had made of Eclipse. Starfall also tried to take a peek at Arcade Eclipse’s pumpkin every now and then, but he didn’t really get a good look at whatever design was being made.

“What do you think, new friend?” Starfall suddenly asked, holding up his painted pumpkin to Arcade Eclipse. “I still have to add your rays, but do you like it so far?” Starfall asked expectantly.

Arcade Eclipse stared at the thing for a moment, and then another. “I like it.” It was simple, to the point, but Starfall appreciated the compliment none the less.

“Oooooo yes! I’m so glad!” Starfall set the pumpkin down and then grabbed some orange and yellow construction paper, tracing out triangles, and cutting out the shapes. “Once I’m done this, do you think you could help me with the nightcaps, Eclipse?”

“Of course, it’s no problem,” Eclipse assured.

By the time Starfall had finished making the paper cut out rays and moved on to working on the nightcap for Moon’s design, Arcade Eclipse was still working diligently on his own pumpkin.

Arcade Eclipse wasn’t so sure why he had gotten so invested in the simple task of drawing on a pumpkin. He supposed it was simply a time killer until it was safe enough to explore his new surroundings without having to worry about human staff freaking out over him being out and about. He could get the lay of the land later, with the way Starfall eager to talk he wouldn’t be surprised if Starfall offered up a tour himself.

“What’re you going to do when you’re done your pumpkin?” Eclipse suddenly asked, turning to Arcade Eclipse.

“Good question! What’re you gonna do? You’re not gonna leave and go back into the arcade cabinet, are you?” Starfall pouted at the thought of his new friend being sent away so soon.

“Hmmm. Not sure, never been out before. Don’t know how long it’ll last before I need to go back to the cabinet to recharge, or if that’s something I need to worry about at all. But it doesn’t matter, if I must return I can simply employ to pull me back out again,” Arcade Eclipse shrugged, not too bothered by the idea since he had a certainty he wouldn’t be trapped permanently in that old dusty box again.

“You’ve never been out before?” Eclipse asked, tilting his head and his rays ticking inward slightly as he asked.

“That’s awful! Or maybe it was nice, I don’t know how cramped it is in there- Oh! Maybe once all the Halloween festivities calm down we could give you a proper introduction to the plex!” Starfall rambled.

“It is a bit hectic at the moment with all the special events, so I think waiting before parading you around the plex for a tour is probably for the best,” Eclipse concurred.

“Fair enough,” Arcade Eclipse shrugged again, not arguing to explore sooner. The process of lightly burning his pumpkin was unexpectedly soothing, even if it did produce a slightly burnt smell in the room.

The three continued to work on their pumpkins and just as Starfall and Eclipse finished making the paper nightcaps to place on their pumpkins, Arcade Eclipse had finished his work too.

“Can I see, can I see? Please, please, please?” Starfall leaned forward quickly, trying to see around the pumpkin before Arcade Eclipse had a chance to turn the thing.

“Yes, yes, hold on,” he huffed before slowly turning to reveal the burnt image. The pumpkin held an intricately scene of an arcade cabinet with ghostly hands reaching out of the borders of the screen while through the center of the screen Arcade Eclipse himself was emerging. His fanged smile appeared to have wisps of either smoke or trails of ghosts seeping out of it, and the arcade cabinet itself had depictions of ghosts swirling around it.

“Oh, wow! That’s so detailed! It looks amazing! And spooky, hehe,” Starfall giggled, setting his face right next to the pumpkin to examine each tiny part of the scene. From up close Starfall could see the lines making up the design were almost pixelized along the edges.

“It is very nice. Seems like we’re out of pumpkins now,” Eclipse pointed out.

“Maybe we could get some more! Or we could find something else to do, Eclipse do you think you could see if there are any more?” Starfall asked.

“I could see if there were any I missed but-,” Eclipse was cut off by a sound.

Bzzt.

The noise returned from the other room, but this time it also seemed to have an effect on Arcade Eclipse. He jerked around a bit where he sat, a larger amount of pixels radiating off him.

“Are you alright?” Eclipse asked.

“Oh no! What’s wrong?!” Starfall asked worriedly.

“I think-,” Arcade Eclipse’s voice cut out in a static mess for a second before he could regain his bearings. “I believe I have been out of the arcade for too long. My body isn’t used to being out of it.”

“Perhaps its something you need to slowly accumulate to? Staying out of the arcade a little longer each time until your used to it enough that you can stay out without issue,” Eclipse theorized.

“I hope that’s the case! I don’t want our new friend to be stuck in that box again,” Starfall sighed.

“Hopefully. But I should return before things get any-,” Arcade Eclipse was interrupted by another bout of jerky movements.

Bzzt bzzt.

“Worse,” Arcade Eclipse grimaced before being greeted by Starfall’s hand in his face, held out to help him up.

Arcade Eclipse took Starfall’s hand, another slight shock happening when he did. He was led by Starfall back to the arcade machine, Eclipse following behind him.

Bzzt bzzt bzzt.

“We’ll be sure to have you visit again soon, friend! We don’t want you stuck in there too long,” Starfall promised. “And we’ll be sure to display your pumpkin with all of outs! Unless you’d like to take it with you?”

“Keep it. I’m not so sure it would survive the trip into the cabinet,” Arcade Eclipse explained. “I’ll see you again, you can be sure of it.” His grin was sharp as ever as he reached out to touch the game’s display screen.

Bzzt bzzt bzzt BZZT.

There was a flash of yellow and orange light from the screen, pixels emanating off the machine and lingering in the air for a moment. The air had an electrical smell and once the light faded, Arcade Eclipse was gone, returned to the confines of the arcade cabinet.

“Well, that was nice,” Eclipse said, heading back out into the main room. Starfall lingered by the arcade cabinet, staring at the now blank and empty screen, before ultimately following Eclipse.

“I hope we get to see him again,” Starfall said. “What should we do now?”

“Come on, lets see what other craft supplies we have lying around. We could make paper plate Halloween masks,” Eclipse suggested.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Starfall said, following Eclipse.

They left their pumpkins huddled together on the paint splattered tablecloth, with an extra, lightly burned pumpkin among them as a new, official friend of the group.

[esshetic]

APRIL ASTROLOGY : Star Gurlz

Hey hey hey, we have made it to spring, the first quarter of the year. Through the death cycle of wisdom and reincarnation, are we the same? Yes, but a little different also.

For this month, I want us to enjoy the present and not really plan for the future. There is too much going on outside that is beyond our control, so please ignore those quarterly reviews of goals and such. Those goals may have been set during a time when you had limited knowledge of what you wanted, or perhaps they may not be achievable in a year, and you need to spread them out over 3 or 5 years.

Nevertheless, it's not a failure to have not achieved what you set out to do within a specific timeframe. Having a goal and dream is like cosmic mail, a message from the future, giving you breadcrumbs on your path to where you will eventually get to.

The full Moon eclipse has opened up energetic awareness and brought things to light that you needed to pay attention to. This month is asking you to not bury your head in the sand but to keep paying attention to what was revealed. I see a cavalry, a holy cavalry, arriving. The solutions won’t be created by you; they will be received by you.

Life goes on, baby girl!

For the Signs:

Aries: April showers bring May flowers. This month will be emotionally draining. Ease up on yourself and go with the theme and mood of each day. You don’t need to have it all figured out and together in order to move forward.

Taurus: Weather is rain, rain, and more rain. April, for the most part, is in the fire of Aries, which is too harsh for right now. The energy is trying to keep you awake as you have a propensity to fall back to sleep. The energy is still going to be harsh, and it's time to face the music with how you really feel.

Gemini: I, I, I will, I do, I am. April for you is warming you up for your season as the sun is moving from your 11th to embark on your 12th house transit. Whatever comes this month, you got this. Every hit, you counter punch. The more the hits come, the better you get at counter punching. Finally, you feel alive!

Cancer: April will be sweet for you, sweet and steady. The moon, your domain, is at its highest performance of a solar eclipse, and it will be business as usual for you. You don’t scare easily and take everything as it comes.

Leo: In April, you are a star, girl! I don’t know what this means; it just came to me. I see an idea coming together with friends or people you admire. The sun is moving through your 8th and 9th house, and it's about someone coming to you with an idea that will make you feel excited. Dust off that note book of dreams and Ideas, its is in there!

Virgo: April showers for you too. I am seeing some sadness in the romantic department, perhaps someone not meeting your high expectations. If not romance-related, I am also seeing something falling apart that you are trying to keep together. It's already fallen apart, and you have to let the pieces that are missing go. You didn't really need them.

Libra: April will bring you some much-needed relief and guidance from a good spirit. Someone has your back and is in your corner, fighting for you right now. This guidance is coming through as career-related; a promotion or career recognition is coming your way.

Scorpio: April will also be pretty sweet for you, like Cancer. There is peace around you while you wait for your illumination at the end of the month. The worst that could have happened has already happened, and it does not feel as devastating as you thought it would. Now, let's wait and see.

Sagittarius: April will feel confusing for you, with conflicting energies trying to influence you. You don’t know what to think or what to do. It will feel uncomfortable to sit in this confusing energy, so if you can’t ignore it, move your body! Get away from the stress around you.

Capricorn: April is looking like a good month for movement, physically. If you are getting ready to move house, then the one you pick is the one you should move to. Don’t wait; there is not something better. April will also be a joyous month for you and your family.

Aquarius: April will be fine for you. I can see that you are worried about a few things, but it's all going to be okay in the end. I sense a lot of worry coming through about various things going on in your world that has you losing sleep. I just want to let you know that everything is going to be okay.

Pisces: April showers fertilize the ground for the next sowing and future reaping. There is disappointment with things as they are showing right now, but it's for the better in the long run. I see that you are settling for less, what is practical and easy, and not what your heart truly desires. The tears are to break open your heart and reveal your truth to you.

[sitp-recs]

My pet peeve is when Harry and Draco start liking each other too fast... Especially when it's physical attraction. Do you know any slow burn fic, where they really dislike each other at first, and slowly fall in love bit by bit as they get to know each other? Even better if one (or both) don't realize that they might like man at the start

Hi anon! Hmm I tried to think of enemies to lovers without the fast sexual burn element (which I personally love lol) and couldn’t come up with many fics. I thought I’d keep it simple and go for my favourite slow burn with some initial animosity and/or bi confusion (in some cases). Maybe my followers can share more recs? I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for!

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 50k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

That Old Black Magic by bixgirl1 (E, 77k) - fast sexual burn, forced marriage

Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he'd thought would be easy after the war... with Draco Malfoy.

Reparo by amalin (E, 85k)

Voldemort's final defeat does not mean Harry Potter's troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

Wild, orphaned (E, 92k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n (E, 180k)

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

[bthump]

this has probably been asked here before but how likely do you think it is that the author actually truly intended for Griffith and guts relationship to be romantic? How likely do you think it is we’ll get a blatant confirmation (eg a confession of love beyond being friends or even a tragic kiss) and if it does happen do you think it’s likely we’ll get an explicit confirmation on both of their ends so we know the feeling is reciprocated (because I know guts feelings can be underestimated sometimes compared to griffiths). Likelihood as a percentage or on a scale from one to ten lol. I think it’s already pretty obvious enough for me to be satisfied whatever happens but it would be nice if there was an undeniable proof of mutual romantic love. because I think no matter what happens if it’s anything less than spelling it out word for word people would still make attempts to deny their feelings which is kind of sad to me. But I could be wrong of course and romance wasn’t intended by the author. Either way I want them to reveal their feelings for each other whether platonic or romantic.

I'm cynical, so I feel like the odds of something textually romantic happening are like, 2/10 at best. Might've gone up to 3/10 if Miura was stlil alive since it's getting more and more common to confirm gay subtext and that might've influenced him, but since it's being written now by someone determined to adhere to the plans Miura told him, whatever happens is frozen in amber circa Miura and Mori's last conversation, with no room to evolve.

That's all pretty much a moot point anyway because again, I think the odds were always gonna be pretty miniscule anyway.

That said, I think the odds that Miura intended the gay subtext are like 9.5/10 lol. I think the romantic undertones are almost certainly deliberate.

I guess I just don't think it necessarily follows that the point of the subtext was ever to eventually become text. I think it was probably there for a lot of potential other reasons: to add a sense of depth and complexity to their relationship; to add more chemistry; potentially to appeal to women; to suggest that their relationship had the potential for romance that will never be realized therefore making their relationship even more all-encompassing and adding to the tragedy; serving the theme of childhood trauma fucking up your relationships; etc.

Of course I'd be overjoyed if it was acknowledged eventually, and I think the story would ultimately be better for it, like I'm not gonna say it's ~deeper~ if it stays subtext lol. But I think that considering the main target audience for Berserk is horny straight dudes, and while it's getting more common it's still very rare to have textual gay romances between two leads, and almost unheard of in legacy media properties, I just don't think the odds are in griffguts' favour.

Oh, though I do want to add that I'd say the odds of getting an acknowledgement of intense feelings between them post-eclipse is very high. I don't think it'd likely be a romantic confession, but yeah I think it seems very likely that Griffith and Guts are going to acknowledge the intense emotional hold they still have over each other. And if that happens I'll be happy even if it's not textually romantic. I'm sure it'll at least be homoerotic enough for me lol.

Thanks for the ask!

[shadows-coffeebeans]

1, 2, 4, 5, 11, 13, 14, 15 (if they were to wear any besides shoes and gloves-), 16, 17, 19, 20, 21~!

Gonna be answering these with all my current fankids cause I barely ever talk about them. Be prepared to read a whole lot O_O

What are their child's/children's name/s?

The fankids I have currently for my Starlight AU are; Starlight (sonadow), Dimout (knuxouge), Phantom & Jazz (part of a future AU for the fankid AU) (infidget), Opal (metamy) and Peri (name's a work in progress) (REDACTED)

I also have a Boom!Shadarry fankid AU (it's actually older than the Starlight AU); Ecliplse (shadarry) and Dani (sticks/amy)

2. Why did you pick those names/that name?

Starlight and Phantom - asked a discord server cause I was stuck on names

Dimout - reminds me of diamond, also just fun to play around with the light/dark theme

Jazz - I was thinking of Princess Jasmine, stuck with the name when i realized i made the siblings Phantom and Jazz >:]

Opal - I thought the name "Opal Rose" was cute

Peri - was thinking "pirouette" cause she looks like a dancer to me, like i said though, I might change the name eventually

Eclipse - Thought it was fun

Dani - Dani Phantom, also a name i might change

4. Having this/these character/s as their parents, how did it affect them?

Starlight - I feel like Sonic and Shadow would be pretty hands off which left Starlight to have to learn things on his own via trial and error, he has fun though - He's homeschooled by Amy as he doesn't exist in the eyes of the law and they've been putting off getting him an official birth certificate

Dimout - Knuckles is training Dimout to be able to guard the Master Emerald. Dimout doesn't care much for training but feels the pressure to do so and live up to what he thinks are Knuckles' standards. Rouge is often doing GUN missions but when she's with Dimout she tries spoiling him to make up for it. She's his hype man, hypes him up no matter what he's doing (much to Dimout's embarrassment).

Jazz & Phantom - Gadget tries his best, not great but not bad either. Infinite likes to go on long tangents about his old power and his hatred for Shadow (cause i think it's funny). Jazz and Phantom just tend to roll their eyes whenever he does. Both Jazz and Phantom have a better relationship with Gadget, Jazz is closest with him compared to Phantom as they've been work-out buddies since she was small. Infinite tries living through Phantom as he has a bit of the Phantom Ruby in him (hence the red eye), he wants him to harness that power to help Infinite. Phantom does not like Infinite for that reason.

Opal - Thanks to Amy she has a big heart. Metal helps her out with maintenance and how to fix whatever issues occur with her (she's also a robot, not sure if I mentioned that before).

Peri - (REDACTED)

Eclipse - Lived in the woods for a while, Sticks taught them to use their instincts and how to survive in the woods. Eclipse left soon after learning what they needed. Once Barry found them in the trash, they took them in and tried teaching them how to "behave". Shadow didn't care much for them before but now they like causing chaos together.

Dani - Sticks and Amy taught her to be tough and independent, to never let other people's opinions of you stop you from doing what you think is right. She could be a little paranoid thanks to Sticks' conspiracy theories. Dani also cannot control her temper at times.

5. Any planned stories/events with the kids in your head?

I scrapped so much of the original story for both so bear with me if there isn't a whole lot

Starlight AU - Starlight and Dimout meeting, Peri as a whole, might do the whole Eggman turning Starlight against Sonic and Shadow thing I had planned before, the future au

Boom!Shadarry AU - mostly just Eclipse and Opal interactions and shadarry getting together

11. How are their relationships with other relatives (grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc)?

Starlight and E-123 Omega love to blow things up together. I mentioned this already but Amy takes on a more mentor role (?) with Starlight. And while Tails thought he was fine at first, he does not want him near his lab or equipment ever again.

13. How does their relationships look with their parents?

Already spent like over 2 hours answering the questions (at the time of typing this) and I already sorta answered in 4 so

skipping this one

14. How old have you imagined them as?

Starlight, Young Phantom & Peri - 10 years

Dimout - 11 years

Opal, Young Jazz and Dani - 16 years

Eclipse & Phantom - 17 years

Jazz - 23

15. How is their clothing style?

Starlight - Anything with bright colors, especially if it lights up

Dimout - Doesn't care much for the look as long as it's practical, would wear jewelry if it doesn't get in the way

Phantom - Comfort>>>>, lives in his baggy shirts and crocs

Jazz - Business casual

Opal - robot

Peri - think those fancy ballet dresses with gold accents

Eclipse - just wears gloves and inhibitor rings, nothing else.

Dani - Idk a mix of Boom!Amy and Sticks' fits

16. Do they have any struggles in any way?

getting tired so I'm skipping this one D:

17. Do they have any fears?

Starlight - The dark

Dimout - Disappointment

Phantom - Not being able to tell reality from the illusions the Phantom Ruby creates in his mind

Jazz & Peri - Failure

Opal - Being wrong

Eclipse - Eggman

Dani - bugs

19. What are their main interests?

Starlight - Rollerskating

Dimout - Painting

Phantom - Video games

Jazz - Fashion

Opal - Animals

Peri - nothing found_

Eclipse - Bugs

Dani - Collecting things

20. Is there anything significant about them that you wanna share?

nope but I would like to ask what y'all think the Starlight AU should be called (not vibing with "void of stars")

21. What are their middle names if they have any?

No middle names :]

[celebration-of-the-ordinary-life]

i wanted. to make him an astral duo costume . i plan to make him a beach one too in the future when i have the energy. but i cant keep procrastinating finalizing his actual normal outfit . but its just so fun to draw him . so heres euri in the thralls of astral duo

ill keep my rambling about design choices for this under the cut ♫

his outfit just pulls elements both from kuyas & quincys . mostly because im not great at coming up with costumes and while studying theirs, what started as "i'll use a white/black balance!" turned into "i really like this midnight/gold combination". he also already utilizes some gold and midnight themes in his story / standard character design, so i ended up sticking to it

aside from that he doesnt actually have two tails .. thats just thanks to the moons. euri's struggle ends up sitting more in the realm of combatting his history (bordering on amnesiac tbh) & more literally that his human and tiger form split during the eclipse. though they dont create two physical forms, his transformations get really intense and unstable!

he's stuck literally just resisting the urge to act without thinking. constant, reckless and harmful naivete and impulse & back-and-forths with the presence and voice of his tiger form (which manifests his actual history) vs. his human self (the current-day him, who he feels "closer" to). so i played into it with lots of imbalance on his outfit—like the double vs. split leg garters, only one glove, asymmetrical arm belts, etc !

his coat pulls a lot of tiger/leopard prints . hes a youkai/youjuu himself (learned that latter term from some people speculating about the original word in the japanese sub. i love it) and did you know i literally did not know about sooley or leogers when i made him? (hadnt gotten to that point in the story). i just wanted the theme of cheetahs/leopards (because i was thinking about those nervous cheetahs with anxiety?) & the tiger was just "damn. ive never had a tiger character!"

anyways. that made it really fun, realizing that i dont think leogers are native to the wood territory? or at least i cant tell/remember.

ok im rambling off topic on i gotta shut up this is what character pages or toyhouses are for

[bloo-the-dragon]

Why did Solar have to die permanently while Eclipse gets to keep coming back over and over like freaking Megatron!?

anon you stirred an ancient ghost inside me with mention of megatron lmao /silly

but anyways - i think it became a running theme that Eclipse was gonna keep coming back like peepaw. But this time however there has been a big shift in his character, so the coming back from death thing has ultimately had a greater effect this time around than the last.

For starters, it's already been confirmed he is not really Eclipse. At least not the prior incarnations. He's a mimicry a different entity who carries only the fractured memories and directives of the ones who came before. The only thing that even really connects him to the Eclipse character beyond that is the fact his code was made from Solar's (who is also an Eclipse)

He is very much like Eclipse in personality for sure, unhinged and a complete asshole. But his unique circumstance, being brought so low that he truly is an inferior Eclipse, a false copy, and the fact he knows this has greatly altered his view on himself and his goals. He can say how he's superior to everyone all he wants but 1. no one cares anymore and 2. he knows it's a lie anyways.

But with Earth showing him genuine kindness and patience lately combined with the aforementiond, this has finally allowed him to actually open up a bit and maybe just maybe allow that sliver of a chance for redemption/to find a new purpose in life, even if that is away from the plex. I don't expect him to suddenly turn into a nice eclipse like Solar, in fact i would very much prefer for him to continue being a little asshole rat bastard /aff - but i do want him to be free of his past and find a new purpose, a new reason to live that isn't just antagonising others and hungering for power.

But i'm getting off track here-

We don't actually know if Solar will be dead permanently. It's been said already there is a way to bring him back but it would require sacrificing someone else, and not only that but their entire existence. My moneys on it being the creator ngl because as it stands he is pretty much unkillable. Using him as that sacrifice would be effective in removing him entirely but the only problem would be actually being able to go through with the plan because the brain's a tricky guy to pin down (plus i don't doubt Earth would be conflicted about it)

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

The Eclipses Show

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1,348 Words

Summary: Solar discovers issues with the two new arrivals to his universe even after fixes.

Warnings: Death (mentioned), Fear Of Death, Injury, Cursing, let me know if I should add anything else.

Chapter 4: Feels Like We Had Matching Wounds

“Solar?” Umbra asked.

It had been a couple hours since they had first had the explanation from Phase on what had happened since Umbra went offline. The majority they were doing was cleaning out a party room for the three of them to sleep and charge in.

Phase was setting up his twin bed with black sheets and white designs on them of clouds. Solars was set up already by now and Solar was laying on his orange and brown themed bed. Umbra’s grey and purple bed was just finished up and Umbra was sitting on it uncomfortably.

“Yeah?” He asked back.

“I don’t…really know what I’m doing. I mean, I lost so much. I lost about a third of the time I’ve been active. What if I fall asleep charging tonight and I can’t wake back up again?” Umbra asked.

Solar sighed at this. Umbra was right, they had next to no idea if his AI would just simply shut off while he was sleeping and charging tonight. They had no idea if Phase would either. Solar didn’t even know if their charging cables were undamaged and were able to charge them yet because the charging cords they had were in the most vulnerable spots in their heads.

“Well, I guess you can bunk with me or Phase probably until that fear eases.” Solar told him.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” Phase agreed. “I’m kinda worried about it too, honestly.”

“Both of you, come sit.” Solar demanded them, patting his bed. Both Phase and Umbra crawled onto Solar’s bed instantly and let him do whatever he was planning.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Solar assured them as he moved Umbra so Umbra’s back was facing him. Solar gently held wires out of the way and carefully freed Umbra’s charging cable.

Upon freeing the cable, Solar could see that something had clearly eaten through the charging wire and it wasn’t a safe wire anymore. But the wire wasn’t changable because of the machinery it was connected to. There was also significant damage both blunt force, gnawing, claw marks, and water damage to Umbra’s circuit board.

“Jesus fuck, Umbra. What got to you?” Solar asked.

“I don’t know. Is something damaged?” Umbra asked, trying not to move.

“A lot is damaged. You basically need a whole new circuit board.” Solar told him.

“But those aren’t replaceable.” Umbra tried not to move despite the fact that he was shaking.

“Alright, I was gonna do it for you both eventually anyway but now seems like a good time. I have the old bodies from two animatronics Fazbear never implemented here. I can move your AI to the new body and you won’t have any issues.” Solar assured him.

“You can?” Umbra asked.

“I can. Come on. Both of you. Because you’re not gonna make it a week if your charging cable is like this.” Solar told him, hooking his arms under Umbra’s arms and standing him up when Solar stood.

Solar led the two to Parts & Service, holding onto them as he went to assure himself they were still there, that they were real. This entire situation had felt unreal, honestly. But it was kinda of…nice to have people around who somewhat understood him.

“Alright, you go on the transfer table and I’ll get the body.” Solar told him, grabbing the Sky model. He placed it on the other transfer table, plugging the body into the transfer table.

“Okay. I’m gonna transfer your data and memory to the new body. It’s gonna feel spacey for a minute but you should wake up almost instantly.” Solar assured him.

“Okay. I’m trusting you.” Umbra told him as Solar carefully plugged Umbra into the table for the transfer.

“I’ll see you in a minute, Umbra.” Solar told him, pressing the button.

“Anyone want anything while I’m ouuuuuuuuu-“ Umbra asked as his eyelights faded until they went dark. It took a minute but the eyes in the Sky model opened up glowing and Umbra gave a groan, moving his head in his new body.

“Uh… hi again.” Umbra chuckled.

“Good morning.” Solar rolled his eyes.

“You made it!” Phase tackled Umbra with a hug.

“You’re next, Phase.” Solar reminded him.

“Awww, you love me giving me a new body too.” Phase teased. Solar couldn’t respond to that, what could he say even? ‘You’re a better brother than the one I have, I’m already attached’? He couldn’t admit that.

“Get on the table, Phasey.” Umbra told him. Solar smiled softly, hooking his arms under Umbra’s old body and lifting it off the table, placing it in a stasis tube for unused animatronics. When he came back, Umbra was helping plug Phase into the transfer table.

“You two are already two steps ahead, ain’t ya?” Solar asked.

“Yep. Seven, actually. I have the button up, we just need the new body.” Umbra told him.

“Oh god, there’s three smart ones now.” Solar sighed, picking up the Star model and placing it on the table with a sheet over its body, since Phase was wearing the Star model’s outfit currently. Solar plugged it in and looked to Phase, who Umbra poked on the nose.

“See you on the other side.” Phase teased Umbra as Solar pressed the transfer button. Phase woke up in the Star model’s body and gave a sigh as his eyes flickered their eyelights.

“Oh my god, the pain is gone.” Phase sighed out as he disconnected the transfer wire and sat up holding the blanket up over his chest. “Can you um…” Phase asked.

“Oh yeah, right.” Solar covered his eyes with his hand and turned around and Umbra shut off his optics given Phase would need help moving his old body to undress it.

“It’s safe now, Solar!” Phase told him a few minutes later. Solar turned back and Umbra was turning back on his optics. Phase’s old body was covered with the blanket now and Phase was fully dressed.

Umbra’s new model was a sun type with purples and grey integrated to it, two sets of four point rays with one bigger and one smaller. It looked like a dusky night sky. The pants were purple with grey diamonds on them in a polka dot pattern and his shirt had the same, his ruffles purple with grey stripes.

Phase’s new model was a sun type as well but monochromatic black and white. He had a double set of five point rays with one set smaller than the other. He was modeled after the constellations, all of them appearing in white on his black shirt and pants as its pattern. His black ruffles had white stripes on them.

Solar thought the models fit them quite well, actually. Sun types but their own ways of being a sun. The stars they had both desperately wanted at one point. A bit poetic if Solar thought about it.

“Alright, it’s past midnight now. We should charge to open tomorrow.” Solar told them as he put Phase’s old body into the stasis tube with the blanket around it. Both Umbra and Phase cheered and both bolted back toward the daycare together.

Solar rolled his eyes and followed them, finding them both in Solar’s bed giggling like kids as they plugged in to charge. They turned on the TV to Netflix and were looking around on it. Solar smiled and plugged himself in to lay with them, ending up with one on each shoulder as they’d picked The Addams Family.

Before long, Umbra and Phase were asleep and Solar sat up watching the two sleep. It felt good, actually. It felt right to have them here. It felt like they were more of brothers than Crescent and Corona were, they were nicer to have around than Crescent at the very least and there was no guilt of killing one of them like Corona.

Solar fell asleep holding Umbra and Phase to his shoulders, Phase snoring and drooling. Umbra was giving little noises in his sleep, Solar quietly sleeping and sleeping deeply for the first time in a while.

[nico-esoterica]

🔮 Celeb Astro Roundup (Predictions) 🔮

1. Justin Bieber — Transit Sun x Saturn: Triggered by Saturn beginning to apply an opposition to his MC w/ Jupiter approaching one w/ his natal Jupiter, expect for there to be a ‘big reveal’ as far as industry abuse goes involving him and others bc of his 5H stellium and Saturn Return in Pisces. It opposing the MC = Industry grooming and abuse if we look at 5H equaling pleasure, 11H = networks of people/power groups.

2. Taylor Swift — 11H Profection: Going by the theory that she’s a Cap Rising, this puts her in a Scorpio Mars ruled year co-present w/ Pluto in this house. We’re seeing the shift already, but expect the public to completely turn against her. Antphrodite on YT called it. Because the eclipses will be on her 10/4 axis of Public vs. Private, she’ll still be beloved internationally, but at home (4H), people will be launching full blown (unseen) hate campaigns against her. W/ the ruler of her house of hidden enemies (12H) currently transiting her 5H, that Jupiter in Taurus opposing that Mars/Pluto in the coming months spells flat out The People vs Taylor. This isn’t going to affect her fanbase or her bag but bc of Saturn transiting her 3rd inevitably squaring her 12H Sun, her mental health will suffer because of it. I also agree w/ Ant that I foresee a breakup between her and Travis Kelce bc of those Jupiter oppositions. It might be nasty. 

3. Ariana Grande — Everything I’m seeing is pointing to her announcing a new engagement or pregnancy or the launch of a new brand relating to beauty or fashion that’s going to extend her career more. Like when Rihanna launched Fenty Beauty. But bc she’s in a 7H (lunar/cancer) ruled Profection Year and the ruler being in her 10H (conjunct) Jupiter and that ruler (Venus) being in her 5H and between the eclipses happening on her 10/4 and so much happening in her 7/10/5/4 (houses) and with JUPITER transiting her 5th, it’s reading as baby/marriage to me as well, especially w/ the NN transiting her 4H (preluding Saturn in Aries). Can even be a combination of them all. But I wanna make a followup about this to dig deeper. 

4. Sean Combs (Diddy) — All the occultists have been saying this, but keep your eyes on September 2024. Pluto’s retrograding back over his Mars WHILE the NN conjoins his natal Chiron (in Aries) and Chiron in the sky will be making an EXACT opposition to his Venus-Jupiter conjunction. Because the theme of this eclipse cycle will be about voices being given to the voiceless and exploited, esp w/ Saturn in Pisces setting the tone. Then with Jupiter applying an opposition to his Pluto, he’s about to lose it ALL. My guess with the Pluto in Cap rx, there’ll be a ‘reveal’ of anyone behind the curtain that’s been protected or whoever’s closest to the stage. Big power figures will fall when he does or it’ll be the start of larger dominos falling. The eclipses in October don’t hit his Venus-Jupiter but they’ll still be affected and his Uranus WILL be clipped by it. I translate this to the radical/sudden reveal of more women coming forward.

5. Nicki Minaj — This will be the year of Nicki Minaj—but not in a good way, potentially. Oppositions CAN create incredible opportunities and incentive but because she’s in a lunar-ruled 6H Profection year (Cancer) and her Moon’s in her 8H if we go by the theory that she’s an Aqua Rising, then 5 PLANET ALIGNMENT being agitated by multiple oppositions all year into the next while Jupiter, the planet doing it, squares her Moon, that’s spelling chaos. It’s giving going on long, incoherent and emotional rants on tour and the public and/or her fanbase instigating conflict. Esp if you add the Saturn transit clipping those mutable points from her 2nd, translating to her pockets. It can be a GREAT period of growth for her OR one of utter clownery. Tickets and merch will be sold regardless. But unless she transmutes the hate and attention, it’s giving early 2000s Courtney Love. I have plans on writing more about this, however.

[synergysilhouette]

Update on my "Wish" rewrite

For those who were interested, I'm currently working on a rewrite of Disney's "Wish"--and it's an extreme re-write; I'm pretty much just keeping the overall concept of a kingdom of wishes. Make sure to check out my post for the characters (I'll leave the post down below; currently making changes). As for why it's taking so long:

As of this second, I'm trying to split the story into 3 acts, and working with that structure, I'm trying to work on the pacing.

I've made several songs, but I didn't wanna release them yet (though I will release them before the main story) since I'm still working out the plot; I don't want to post a song and then the story ends up being completely different from how it was originally planned. One of my favorites is the love song, which when I wrote it felt like the film's anthem, and in mind with the pop/radio theme we had for "Wish" with Julia Michaels writing it, I imagined it as an RnB, SZA-inspired song (not sure if that matters since you'll only see the lyrics, though; I have no means of composing/producing). Still polishing it, though!

Making changes to our protagonist. At first I imagined her as a hothead who's lesson in the story is moreso about learning not to let her anger guide her and not to be cocky, but I'm working on making her a more shy, reclusive protagonist, since I've wanted a shy Disney princess for a while and my writing was going back and forth between bold, headstrong sorceress and shy, pessimistic sorceress.

Villain issues. I had a main villain in mind, but I did want to alter the situation a bit (no spoilers!), and I wondered if I should have a different villain entirely.

The Dreamers, the protagonists' best friends, have their own lives, and I wanna showcase that rather than having them feel flat like The Teens. One of them already feels like he eclipses the other two, so I need to work on that.

My star. He's coming off more interesting than our protagonist, so I've gotta work on that--plus I'm worried that as of now, his relationship with her feels too strong, too one-sided to the point where it feels almost like a fixation or obsession with her, and I DESPISE that.

Hope that clears it all up. Lemme know if you have any questions! I may do a massive overhaul, but I don't wanna make new posts/big changes to my posts concerning this story until I have Act I completed and I'm CERTAIN that that's the direction I'm going in.

[stvlti]

linger like a sandwalk - a playlist for Dune Part Two

I'm back 💃 after 2 years of not posting new playlists for my fandoms 💃 this new Dune movie is living in my head rent free 😮‍💨 of course I had to make fanmix for this one to try and consolidate my thoughts.

Tracks ⏏️

Bloodline -- Gabriels  //  No Church in the Wild -- Jay-Z & Kanye West  //  Mary Magdalene -- FKA Twigs  //  Pink Matter  -- Frank Ocean  //  Smother -- Daughter  //  Say You'll Go -- Janelle Monáe  //  A Time of Quiet Between Storms (Dune Part Two OST) -- Hans Zimmer  //  Your Blood -- Nothing But Thieves  //  The River -- Kero Kero Bonito  //  Bad Religion -- Frank Ocean  //  Telekinesis -- Travis Scott ft. SZA & Future  //  Transform -- Daniel Caesar ft. Charlotte Day Wilson

Meta ⏏️

An explanation of the song choices & related thoughts on the film *

(*) I still have not read the book *lies down* As soon as life slows down I swear I will. The 2 Denis Villeneuve films combined already make for a rich narrative and storyworld however, and this playlist is very much based on that.

▶️ Bloodline -- Gabriels

It's the bloodline This thing came before you Bloodline

I wanted to open this playlist on something that gets right at (one of) the core themes of Villeneuve's Dune, and to me that is the idea of bloodlines, legacies and self-fulfilling prophecies.

Birth rights can be stole Truth is you were always alone Tears in your hands Seems you lost before you began Your ancestors' blood fed the soil and the sand

I think a point that many filmgoers miss - and is also a point I missed on my first viewing of Part Two - is that the Lisan Al Gaib prophecy and Paul's claim to it is wholly manufactured. Upon rewatch, several lines in the 2 films jumped out to me: 'On Arrakis, a path has been laid' (Mother Mohiam in Part One), and first Paul (during his first meal in Sietch Tabr) and then Lady Jessica's declaration that they must persuade the non-believers that he is the Lisan Al Gaib so as to ensure their continued survival among the Fremen. Irulan's later commentary, 'these are our religious patterns', cemented this fact for me. We are reminded that The Bene Gesserit has sent missionaries to the Fremen over decades and centuries, creating the religious circumstances for Paul to consolidate power among the natives. He has as much a claim to the title of the Mahdi / Lisan Al Gaib as any other outerworlder from the Houses of the Imperium - that is to say, he isn't really the Chosen One. 'Birth rights can be stole', and this is a birth right he stole.

Yet, he does undoubtedly hail from his mother's Bene Gesserit lineage and, through consuming the Water of Life, inherit the ancestral memories of both his masculine and feminine forebearers from both the royal bloodlines and the Fremen lineage of Reverend Mothers. (We see this during the montage after he takes the WoL, falling through a super cut of the faces of the Fremen Reverend Mothers who came before him before eventually finding a vision of Alia on the sand dunes.) His 'ancestors' blood fed the soil and the sand' on which he now stands as the (false) prophet that will lead his Fremen tribe to ruin...

It's the bloodline Don't let it destroy you Bloodline

... and in ascending to the title of the Mahdi, he will undoubtedly lose everything that made him Paul the individual in the first place. Greater prophecies, plans and conspiracies will eclipse his humanity. This is the real bloodline that drives him to war and genocide. 'Don't let it destroy you' - but maybe it's already too late.

▶️ No Church in the Wild -- Jay-Z & Kanye West

I mean, come on, this song choice is just too obvious isn't it?

Human beings in a mob What's a mob to a king? What's a king to a God? What's a God to a non-believer who don't believe in anything? Will he make it out alive? Alright, alright No church in the wild

'Mob' = the Fremen and their Fedaykin guerilla troops. 'King' = Rabban, and later Feyd-Rautha, and the Harkonnen regime. 'God' = Paul as Mahdi and Muad'dib, the desert terrorist. 'Non-believer' = Chani and her brethren among the Northern skeptics.

But the sonical landscape of this song also played a huge part in my inclusion of the song on this list. I'm a lover of words before all else, but something about Dune made me want to curate a sonically coherent playlist that accompanies the story in lyrics as much as it does in sound. The grueling, forward momentum of this song's iconic beat lends itself to the raids the Fedaykin warriors launched against the Harkonnen-controlled spice fields.

▶️ Mary Magdalene -- FKA Twigs

In my head I call this the quintessential Bene Gesserit song. Listen, and read the lyrics:

A woman's work A woman's prerogative

The song makes it clear from the very first lines that it's about the woman's birthright and sovereignty. Most of the Bene Gesserit ladies we see in this film have roots in the royal bloodlines themselves. In that, they have a claim to a particular prerogative. Yet they also actively govern the domain of procreation, descendancy, succession, and survival of royal bloodlines. That is the nature of 'a woman's work' in this storyworld.

A woman's touch, a sacred geometry I know where you start, where you end How to please, how to curse Yes, I learnt you needed me Yes, I'm here to open you Yes, I know that your heart is blue (So cold)

FKA Twigs' darkly seductive vocals paired with this particular verse really evokes that entire Lady Fenring/Feyd-Rautha sequence.

I fear before the fire True as Mary Magdalene Creature of desire Come just a little bit closer to me Step just a little bit closer to me

The seduction continues here, but there's power inherent in the 'creature of desire' Mary Magdalene represents. Her story and her iconography bears a heavy resemblance to the Bene Gesserit sisters and their relationships with the men of the Imperium and its court.

I can lift you higher I do it like Mary Magdalene I want you to say it Come just a little bit closer 'til we collide

A woman's hands So dark and provocative A nurturing breath that could stroke Your divine confidence

I really fuck with the Mary Magdalene allegory in this song, and the chorus nails the mythos and authority she commands in modern reimaginings of her figure in relation to Jesus' mythos. Yet there's something softer in the latter half of the chorus - the devotion she shows to her partner is on equal footing, less of manipulation and more of the muse she can be for him to realise his full potential. With the arrival of the second verse we truly see how important she is to a man's dominion. 'A nurturing breath that could stroke [His] divine confidence': that is the power of Lady's Jessica's love for and devotion to Leto Atreides.

A woman's war Unoccupied history True nature won't search to destroy If it doesn't make sense

Of course, it would be remiss of me not to point out that certain parts of the Bene Gesserit's characterisation functions as a manifestation and perpetuation of Frank Herbert's very of-its-time misogynistic, gender essentialist ideas of a woman's station and the (only) avenue through which she derives her power in the material world - her womb. (Miss me with that radical feminist bs.) But we also see, in the film, Princess Irulan's character: a female historian whom the film suggests would have been happier free from the trappings of the Bene Gesserit programme and her Imperial lineage. 'A woman's war; unoccupied history': Mary Magdalene is a prime example of how for most of history, women are often anonymous (as that Virginia Woolf saying goes), their histories are often erased and deemed as unimportant; Irulan's inner thoughts and history are also cast aside and given no voice in the Dune narrative, but in an ironic twist, she dedicates her life to documenting the history of others.

▶️  Pink Matter -- Frank Ocean

What do you think my brain is made for? Is it just a container for the mind? This great, grey matter Sensei replied, "What is your woman? Is she just a container for the child?" That soft, pink matter

This song provides more of a male - or at least, androgynous - perspective on the question of the Bene Gesserit breeding programme ('Is she just a container for the child?' / 'My God, she's giving me pleasure'). But it gets right at the core of the question of whether the women in this universe, and the avenue through which they gain power, is truly confined to being 'just a container for the child'. I also really liked the direct parallels Frank Ocean's lyrics draw between the womb (pink matter) and the mind (grey matter), as the other main source of power Jessica drives from is through her mind and the prescience becoming the Reverend Mother has afforded her.

▶️ Smother -- Daughter

In my head I call this Lady Jessica's song.

I want all that is not mine I want him, but we're not right In the darkness, I will meet my creators And they will all agree that I'm a suffocator

I think it's more intimate than either of the 2 songs that come before this one, and centres Jessica squarely in her role as a mother before her place as a Bene Gesserit sister. She knows she will meet her creators - the generations of mothers and Bene Gesserit sisters who came before her - and she knows they will disapprove of the path she has manipulated to suit her ends, first for Duke Leto (in bearing him a son) and then for her son's survival (in spreading propaganda of him as the Lisan Al Gaib among the Fremen tribes). Now I know that the films sort of reduce her to a one-dimensional villain in Part Two, but I've heard that she is a lot less gungho about their little homegrown personality cult of Paul as the Lisan Al Gaib / Mahdi in the book. In fact, his accelerated transformation into a religious figurehead and his willingness to exploit the Fremen for that, at the cost of his own humanity, seems to be an unintended outcome that she regrets. She has unwittingly become a 'suffocator', in that regard - a mother killing her own child's humanity in his metaphorical cradle as soon as she exposed him to tales of the prophecy.

Oh love I'm sorry if I smothered you I sometimes wish I'd stayed inside My mother

▶️  Say You'll Go -- Janelle Monáe

Say you'll go to Nirvana Will you leave Samsara? Or in the words of Dhammapada, "Who will lead? Who will follow?" Our love will sail in this ark The world could end outside our window Let's find forever And write our name in fire on each others' hearts

Something about Janelle's crooning vocals against the symphonic strings and melodies just makes this a timeless love song. I love including it in for my ships 🥺 and I think it rather fits PaulChani, the star-crossed lovers that they are. 'Let's find forever' is my 'I will love you as long as I breathe'.

But of course, the question of whether Paul will go south looms over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. 'Will you leave Samsara? ... Who will lead? Who will follow?'

▶️  A Time of Quiet Between Storms (Dune Part Two OST)

Among the Dune OST, this song holds a higher and special place in my heart because of the way it celebrates their first on-screen kiss, but is also used as a reprise of sorts at the end of the film as Chani walks out on Paul. It's a bittersweet track. And it's lived in my mind rent free much the same way that last shot of Chani, with her quivering lips and angry eyes, has.

This brings me to the name of the playlist: the PaulChani tragedy, and just, the film as a whole, has definitely lingered in my mind. It has dragged against my thoughts gently, but persistently like the rhythm of a sandwalk.

I also chose to place it in the middle of playlist to sever it into 2 parts, much the same way the film is severed into 2 parts: before Paul undergoes the Water of Life ritual, when he is still an idealistic boy who actively rejects the title of the Mahdi for fear of the wartorn future he's foreseen, and afterwards, when he claims the mantle of the Mahdi.

▶️  Your Blood -- Nothing But Thieves

You know it's your blood that I bleed Tell me that there's some way that I'll get through the night I carry your moral disease I don't wanna be something I'm not to stay alive

You guys don't know how long I've wanted to put this song on a fanmix!! I've called this Joey Wilson/Jericho's song from the moment I heard it 😂 but I think the same themes can be found in Paul's story too, specifically his first scene right after recovering from the Water of Life ritual. 'We're Harkonnens.' And his realisation that that's how they'll survive: by becoming Harkonnens. It's the Baron's blood that he bleeds, and conflicted as he is about that, eventually he'll come to realise that he has to 'be something I'm not to stay alive'.

▶️  The River -- Kero Kero Bonito

Holy mother Receive our hearts in your arms And let our souls pass The day the rain returns again

These 4 lines are repeated throughout the song, almost like a prayer. It reminds me of the way Stilgar holds onto those same 4 words, 'As it was written', throughout the film as an affirmation of his religious convictions - the belief that the true Mahdi will bring paradise one day and with it, the rain.

When Earth is submerging And heaven is open The river will carry all of us to Where we belong ... Then a torrent crashes down Releasing the jungle swelling in the ground And as was foretold our time is out

▶️  Bad Religion -- Frank Ocean

If it brings me to my knees It's a bad religion This unrequited love To me, it's nothing but a one-man cult And cyanide in my styrofoam cup I can never make him love me Never make him love me

This song places us in Chani's pov. To her, Paul's meteoric rise of notoriety among the Fremen is 'nohting but a one-man cult'. She loved him as he was - an outsider who stayed humble and learnt her ways, and earned a place among her Fedaykin brethren. But as a power-tripping outerworlder claiming to be the Mahdi - she doesn't recognise him, and she 'can never make him love [her]' again, not as the man he has become.

▶️  Telekinesis -- Travis Scott ft. SZA & Future

I could've took the pain and I could've went out sad Streets stepped in and raised me, but I ain't have my daddy

So I'm gonna be honest: this is actually the track that started this entire project for me 🙈 But you see it, right? Travis Scott as Paul's voice, and SZA as Chani's...

I can see the future, it's lookin' like we level through the sky I can't wait to live in glory in eternal lastin' life

The fact that 'I can see the future' is the refrain of this song. In its original context I'm almost certain that Travis meant it less literally, and more in the realm of being able to guess the trajectory of his career as he continues to top the charts as a hip hop superstar. But it lends well to the context of Paul's religious myth-making as well. 'Eternal lasting life' and all that.

How can I sleep when you're out catchin' bodies? I still wanna be with you, trust me, I know that's insane ... We both ain't shit and it's workin' for me Workin' for me, yeah I can see the future, I can see the future

The thing that breaks my heart about the ending of the film is that you can see Chani still loves Paul, but not who he has become. I also like that the song flips the refrain around and has SZA sing it too. Except when she says, 'I can see the future', she says it self-deprecatingly. It's a future of more heartbreak and betrayal (by way of mutual infidelity) and ruin.

▶️  Transform -- Daniel Caesar ft. Charlotte Day Wilson

If a leopard never changes its spots How can I change what I've got? Transform, transform, transform, transform We don't punish the tiger for catching its prey So how am I the one to blame? If it's in my nature Transform, transform, transform, transform

One thing rewatching these films has made me realise is that Paul's 'sudden flip' to becoming a coloniser exploiting the Fremen's religion for his own gains in Imperial politics after drinking the Water of Life is actually less of a plot twist and more of an inevitability that has been advertised since Part One. Towards the end of the first film, he says to Liet Kynes that he intends to marry one of the Emperor's daughters and make a play for the throne. In Part Two, during his first meal at Sietch Tabr, he says to his mother that he must convince the non-believers that he is the Lisan Al Gaib. He may not have intended to bear the mantle of the Mahdi, perhaps he was foolishly, idealistically looking for a different path towards revenge and the throne, but he has never been above playing the game and utilising court politics to secure his 'victory', so to speak. He was born of royal blood and forged in those politics. It's in his nature.

It's never over until life ends Lay down beside me, do it again

These 2 lines reminds me again of that promise Paul and Chani exchanged: 'I will love you as long as I breathe'. (And if I remember correctly, Chani said something to the effect of 'I will be here for you as long as you stay who you are' as well.) I didn't want to end this playlist on a downer ending, hence this song choice.

If you've made it this far into my meta-commentary, thank you! Hope you've enjoyed this playlist ♡