#and gaudy gold cape pins

[shrub-jay]

Him…

[zillyeh]

Turned Tides

Technically an immediate precursor to this drabble. only cws i can really give is talks of bombing towards the end, lmk if i need to add anything here<3 Synopsis: Around 150 sweeps ago, Heiress Halosa Delhon discuss what to do with the den of rebels in the north of Delhon city, with the added input of some unfortunate guests.

Your heavy footsteps echo across the marble castle floors. The mere sound of your approach had always been enough to quiet a room, but since the execution? A pin could drop upstairs and you could hear it. You almost miss her air headed giggling as she draped herself over the throne.However.

You admit that you prefer what it's done to Heiress Halosa.

She sits motionless on her throne. Hollow. She is a shell of the Delhon you knew. You'd behead Bridal again just to watch the light leave Halosa's eyes.  

The heiress did not wear her mourning whites for long. She was already back to her caped fleet uniform. The golden rank pauldrons sat spiky and and important on her shoulders. They glinted with the rest of the gold inlaid in her uniform in the jade and pink moonlight. Even this subtle combination of colors bouncing on her lap seemed to be grimming her already sour expression.

You greet her with a kneeling bow. 

"Your highness," you say. She hardly moves but to flick her wrist- an instruction to stand. 

"Steris," she says, the gravel of her voice deeper than you've ever heard it. "Approach. We don't have time for a round table. Visitors."

"Visitors?" you ask incredulously, climbing the short few steps to her side. "Now?" A quiet Delhon castle is a Delhon castle in shambles. To bring in others before you get a moment with her is… inconvenient. For you.

"They have a solution for me." Her voice is robotic. Halosa is running low on willpower. Anyone but you would think she’s just as hard as ever, but you can see her foundations beginning to crack. Mentioning Bridal in just the right way could break her, bend her to your whims, but you need her alone.

She hums, shifting in her seat. With an unenthusiastic flourish, she bangs her serpentine scepter on the ground. The ornate main doors of the throne room open, and the quartet of trolls that enter makes your thin lip curl.

They aren't clowns of yours, but they are clowns. Masked laughsassins with Enfaris' signature gaudy frills, all except for the tall elder in the front of them. He was certainly as Enfarian as the rest, but he had the decency to mute his colors and show his face. His paint was obnoxiously intricate- they have so much time for it don't they?- and did work to fill the deep lines of his face. His hair fell around his face in thin, tight braids, beaded in green and red at the ends.

"Your 'ighness," he greets. The phlegmy yet airy dust of his accent on those two words alone make your skin crawl. The beads in his hair clatter softly as he shifts. He bares his throat in place of bowing. Whatever ailment requires his cane seems to prevent his fellows from dropping to the floor as well. Disrespectful.

"Father Jortis, I take it?" Halosa asks, not looking for an answer. "I apologize for having no announcer to your entrance. It is no secret that my court is in unacceptable disarray. Please, speak."

"It is quite alright, Madame Delhon," Jortis says, gripping the cane in front of him. You do not hide your grimace when you realize it has a honking horn at the handle. 

"My church received most disturbing news from someone in zis province," he continues, "A rather eloquent plea for assistance. I 'ave an embarrassment of my own you see: in short a few, shall I say incorrectly zealous of our church stole some of our‐ qu'est que ce- 'idden members. I am to believe their fleeing brought zem 'ere, based on my informant's descriptions."

"This should be our priority why exactly?" You can't see his angle. You don't like that. "What do you mean by hidden-"

Halosa puts up a hand again. 

"You will be addressed when you are addressed, Steris." She can't make her voice sound as scary as it used to be. Regardless, you shut your mouth, narrowing your eyes at the clowns in front of you. 

"My advisor does make a fair point, Father. You bring this to me now for the reasons I hope you do, yes?"

Jortis nods once.

"Not zat I would be so brazen as to peek into your mind, but I believe so. My informant claims to 'ave been abducted by rebels and forced to labor for zem- ones zat match ze description of my missing flock."

"Fascinating," you say, having never shut up for long before this. "Is your little informant with us tonight, Enfarian?"

"'E should be," Jortis says easily, catching you off guard. His aloofness to your own disrespect annoys you. Enfarians are so difficult to rile. "If 'e manages to-"

The doors behind the troupe open again, spilling in the last person you'd ever thought you'd see in Delhon's throne room. The guards who escort him in look like they can't get their hands off him fast enough.

"Ninefingers?" You almost can't believe your eyes. He looks genuinely afraid in a way you've never seen the Exacerbator look. He wrings his lopsided hands, warily moving beside the quartet of clowns before dropping to a bow for the Heiress.

"Your highness," he says with a shake in his voice. Closer you can see barely healed scars on his arms, and a bruise under his eye. His first finger has been replaced with something made of… wood? How barbaric. His curly hair had been pulled back tight. He looks even smaller than he already is without his mane. Crushable underfoot or under ax.

Halosa signals for him to get up, casting a wary eye at you. You step forward. He winces.

"I should strangle whatever information you have out of you, Aarika." You crack your knuckles, but Jortis and Halosa both put their arms out to keep you two from each other.

"Vionyi, fucking behave or I will force you to leave."

"Yeah, okay."

Halosa stands. She strikes you across the mouth hard enough to reverberate through the high-ceilinged hall. You swallow the bit of blood in your mouth, clenching your fists. Oh how you hate fighting the urge to do something back. Tears sting at your eyes, but you are well practiced in biting back pain. Closing your clear false lids also helps.

"We can have this conversation over your corpse if need be," she says, some of the real danger in her voice back. You grit your teeth, the hand shaped print on your face stings. Hard. 

"I apologize for my insolence, your highness," you say through tight lips. "I shall not let my emotions get the better of me again."

For a split second, you think you catch a smug little smirk on Aarika's face.

"If I may-," Aarika speaks up with the well practice shake of a fearful child. Halosa seats herself again. "I apologize as well for my- everything. My unacceptable transgressions against the Empire, what I assume is a nasty scar on the back of your leg-" You want to kill him. Never in your life have you had to contain it quite this much. Cleaving him in two would only be the start. "-all of it is my fault. After those pirates took me from- kept me under the deck until I was so wound up and starved that I-" he interrupts himself with a sob. Jortis places a hand on his shoulder. Pathetic. This was what had become of Exacerbator Ninefingers? 

"I- sometimes I feel like I'm still not fully come to. I'm sorry. That's not what I'm here for. Please forgive me." He clears his throat, shaking as he finds his composure. "When they landed last they took me here. Taking to the rebel groups. The Underground practically found him- us first."

"The Underground?" Halosa seems interested. That was your pet project for sweeps. He's going to take this from you, right under your nose. Or lack thereof.

He nods. "There’s a church, on the north side of the city. They call it the-" he shudders, as if remembering something terrible, "-the church of the Reverent. That's what they call their leader. He and a handful of others are Enfarian. You can hear it- and I've overheard things-"

Jortis seems to think that Aarika's frantic ramblings are enough. 

"I would like your permission to retrieve ze 'eads of my missing flock, your 'ighness," he says, gesturing back to his laughsassins. Ah. That's what they were there for.

"Infiltration is incredibly difficult," Aarika interjects. "There are tunnels they will use to evacuate at even the slightest hint of smoke, the-"

"Old snake tunnels, I am familiar," Halosa says, more lively than you've seen her in weeks. Ugh. "Do you know them well enough to block them off?"

He hesitates, but nods.

"They could be… encouraged to certain routes."

Halosa turns her gaze to Jortis.

"How much time would it take you, Jortis?"

"Twenty minutes if we linger," he says. His little trio of freaks nod in unison. Aarika looks just as uncomfortable as you feel with them. The welts he came in with are slower to fade than you thought they'd be. Exacerbator Ninefingers had been rumored to heal as fast as you could cut him, but you suppose not all pirate tales are true.

You are very aware of the chunk he cut out of your thigh as you stare him down. He balks under your scrutiny, reluctantly leaning towards the subjugs. You want to find something, anything about him that you can use to get him dead. His crimes against the Empire are enough, but if he uses this leverage to beg for his life now? After giving up the location to the biggest thorn in Delhon’s side?

Halosa was far too weak not to let him have it.

"If you intend to do this, I would suggest you do it soon," he says, freaky teeth moving as he speaks. "They are intending to mobilize somewhere- I'm unsure where, I would assume further north to disperse into the woods, or south to integrate into the city."

"Two very different directions," Halosa hums.

“That is by design, your highness,” Aarika says with a solemn nod. “They listen to me about… tactics. They know who I was, not who I am. I will do anything in my limited power to make sure that the one who stole your m-”

He stopped himself with a hand over his mouth, looking like he fully expected Halosa to strike him down. You wish she would. She sits up straighter in her seat, the hardness of a several thousand year old war-ender back in her eyes. When she speaks again it is a demand.

“Who stole my...”

“The unspeakably blooded rebel who stole your beloved, your highness.” Aarika dropped to the floor again in another bow. He was really laying it on thick, though you must begrudgingly admire his commitment to keeping his neck and his head attached. “You must know she is one of the Enfarians in that church. It’s where-”

“Enough.” Now Halosa Delhon’s voice was a thundercrack, reverberating off the walls louder than when she’d slapped you. “Father, you can personally see to the unmerciful, gruesome end of your ex flock?” Jortis nodded. Aarika looked up, still frightened, but for a moment the mask slipped to unfettered glee. You would see his teeth pulled out of his face and reintroduced into his eyesockets if you could. 

“Unmercifully shall tack on an ‘andful’s worth of minutes, but it can be done, easily. One of our riders has a vested interest in seeing at least one of zem dead. If I understand correctly, it is the very same.” Riders. They would have taken one of their noodly, violent dragons here. Enfarians have them to spare for every law enforcer over there. You wonder which of his troupe it is. If they aren’t out tending to it.

The shadow of a smile finds itself creasing the severe lines around Halosa’s mouth. This is bad for you. If they can just kill their leaders and get the few spies stationed to get the more egregious mutants, your position as her tactician is practically-

“Steris,” she says, alive. You stiffen. “You had plans for the city north, did you not?”

Is she serious?

“Your highness?”

“To simply kill the perpetrators of so much strife against my city is not enough,” she says cooly, rehearsing words you’d spoken to her already almost verbatim. “The rats nest must be wiped out, lest more vermin crop up. Wouldn’t you agree?”  

Something in the way you shift almost makes Aarika snort. You feel almost lightheaded. Is this truly happening? This is one of the best nights of your life. Aarika and the foreign clowns at the edge of your vision be damned, she’s actually going to go through with it.

“Of course, your highness,” you say breathlessly, “An example should be made to the rest of the city- rest of the province that you-”

“Won’t stand for this behavior from our citizens,” she finishes for you. “Contact Felzee and the other two, tell them they’ll have thirty minutes. Anyone else you find terribly important as well. Everyone else figures it out when the drones come.”

You give her a short nod.

“Shall we be walling off the rest of the city then?” She nods in return. Her control over Delhon’s drones could rival even the Empress. Shielding off just the north side would be nothing.

“Get Ninefingers to mark a map for you and Jortis.” You grimace, and he winces at being mentioned by name. “I will offer you one singular favor, Amillo Aarika, aside from sparing your life.” 

Of course she would.

Fucking of course she would.

That won’t sour your mood. Aarika could ask for a room in the castle and you’d still be over the moons. This is your idea, she’s listened to you, you are getting everything you wanted to do to that hole and more.

“A floor of the greenhouse tower in the center city,” Aarika says as if he’d been expecting this. “If you would be so generous. I- I want my life to be simple, all I’ve ever really wanted is to make-”

“I don’t care. It will be done. All of you come with me. This must be done now.”

When she stands, turning her back to your company, something in Aarika changes, shifts ever so slightly that you barely catch it. His shake stops. He seems more relaxed. He catches your eye and flashes you a smile, which you meet with a sneer. You know then that he’s also just gotten exactly what he wanted. Even if it doesn’t seem like much, you and he are united in this one desire- to see north Delhon torched.

That doesn’t sit well with you, but you have to ignore it. Right now you have a city to raze.

[aethele]

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

just a fun little character game. fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by.  repost & tag away !

TAGGED BY:  @listlesscholar and @milotheas

TAGGING:  steal it !

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

l. warmth.  liveliness of feelings,  emotions,  or sympathies;  ardor or fervor;  enthusiasm or zeal;  comfort and coziness  II.  compassion.  a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune,  accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering III.  boldness.  not hesitating or fearful in the face of actual or possible danger or rebuff;  courageous and daring IV.  patience.  bearing provocation,  annoyance,  misfortune,  delay,  hardship,  pain,  etc.,  with fortitude and calm and without complaint or anger  ( barring hubert ) V.  prudence.  wise or judicious in practical affairs;  sagacious;  discreet or circumspect

GREETINGS:

l.  “ oh,  ( name ) ! ”  or  “ hello,  ( name ) ! ”  with a friendly smile II.  “ that is quite enough ! ”  /  some other interruption when he is getting into other people’s business,  as he often does III.  hugs for friends who are comfortable with it IV.  hand kisses for SOs or dear friends who are comfortable with it V.  cheek kisses for SOs,  dear friends,  or family who are comfortable with it

COLORS:

l.  orange / auburn II.  rich red III.  royal blue IV.  gold and silver 

SCENTS:

l.  horse hide,  hay,  tanned leather  II.  whichever tea he last brewed III.  armor / weapon oil and polish  IV.  expensive colognes and perfumes  V.  faintly scented hair soap  ( more obvious war phase,  post-war )

CLOTHING:

l.  capes,  both half and full depending on the occasion II.  greaves and pauldrons,  freshly polished and meticulously maintained III.  spurs,  usually muddy,  that jingle when he walks   IV.  soft,  luxurious silk robes with quilted collars  V.  silver sword worn at his hip in an elegant scabbard

OBJECTS:

l.  silk handkerchief embroidered with his initials II.  raisins  ( more rarely sugar cubes )  kept in his pocket,  treats for his horse III.  a budgeting book,  delicate cursive stuffed in every margin ( war phase ) IV.  an heirloom engagement ring,  a little gaudy;  kept in his pocket,  just in case ! V.  an enamel pin of a twin-headed eagle,  worn on his lapel to distinguish his position as prime minister  ( post-war only ) 

VICES / BAD HABITS:

l.  contentious.  given to arguing or provoking argument II.  boastful.  showing excessive pride and self-satisfaction in one's achievements,  possessions,  or abilities III.  competitive.  vying zealously with someone in order to do or achieve something IV.  garrulous.  excessively talkative,  especially on trivial matters V.  telltale.  a person who reports others' wrongdoings or reveals their secrets

BODY LANGUAGE:

l.  exaggerated,  almost histrionic gestures while speaking II.  pacing out of eagerness or impatience  III.  one leg crossed over the other as he sits,  hands folded neatly on his knee  IV.  one hand or both perched at his waist,  as if they always know right where to be V.  idly curling his hair around a finger while working on letters or paperwork ( war phase / post-war )

AESTHETICS:

l.  hot steam from freshly poured tea curls as it rises in the cool,  early morning II.  candle-lit parchment glossed with elegant,  cursive script,  name signed in large,  bold letters III.  stalks of golden wheat sway in tandem with the breeze IV.  coal burns red in the forge,  the sound of a hammer against sizzling metal  V.  bare hand buried in a horse’s wild,  dark mane 

SONGS

I.  skipping this one again !  i’m uncultured i know 

[faebirdie]

Expect the Unexpected

Pairing: Loki/fem!human!Reader

Category: Angst & Fluff

Words: 6,944

Warnings: Canon-complicit violence, fake submission, talk of throwing up, brief description of a panic attack, nightmares, cliche fluffy bed sharing, when Loki gets defensive he can also get a bit mean

Prompts: from reasons not to kiss her (@generalmercer):

9. she is so good. she is so good, and you can not ruin one more good thing.

Summary:  After getting trapped on Sakaar with Loki, Y/N must learn how to survive on such a foreign planet however she can. Even if that means pretending to be his handmaid for protection.

A/N’s: I might change the title later on, because I kind of hate, so please let me know if you think of anything better.

Masterlist & Request Rules 

Y/N hadn’t been truly surprised per say when Thor had asked her to go to Norway with him to retrieve his father. It was far from the first time he had asked for her help in navigating Earth, as he’s still trying to figure out humans and she’s a trusted friend with semi-good social skills. But, he’d never asked her to go this far from home before. He generally stuck to the greater New York area and had never once asked Y/N to leave the country, much less go to a whole other continent. And definitely not while Loki was around.

In fact, she had never even met the younger of the Odinson brothers before this, only ever heard stories of him and seen him on the news after the attack on New York. And, as much as she hates to admit it, he scares her. She was in the city when it had all happened and still have nightmares of it, but Thor had also told her about Thanos and what had happened in between Loki’s supposed death and the attack, so she honestly didn’t know what to think.

Despite all of this however, the girl had agreed to help, because honestly, what else was she supposed to do when a very distraught god of thunder showed up at her door? Which leads Y/N to where she is now, stood before Thor, slightly clutching at his crimson cape as his hammer flies towards the head of his newly discovered sister.

Now, this isn’t exactly the first time that Thor had gotten her in to some sort of trouble. She was actually kind of coming to expect it, so she knew to look away, as to avoid any gruesome sites, and she had memorized the THWACK! sound the impact makes. Y/N can’t say that it doesn’t haunt her in her sleep some nights.

But this time, the sound never comes. She looks up just in time to see Mjolnir explode into a colossal display of lightning. And then Loki is shouting something she can’t really process quite yet, and Thor is saying something as well and then he races forward and away from her and Loki is grabbing a hold of her and then something strange happens and…. and she doesn’t remember much after that, not even in the foggy sort of way that she remembers the moments just prior.

  Y/N fades in and out of consciousness for a while, occasionally catching bits and pieces of what those around her are saying. Like something about ‘a Midgardian’, and then something about fighting something, someone, but she can’t seem to put any of what she is hearing together before she fades out once again. She doesn’t know how long she’s been like this, or even how long she’s been asleep generally before she wakes fully, but when she finally does the haziness sticks with her.

Everything around her seems foggy and while nothing seems too out of the ordinary, all of it does seems a little bit off. But not enough to actually pin point anything too different from what she is used to. She just knows that the room she is in is not her own, nor does it seem to be any sort of hotel.

The bedroom around her is a combination of a stupidly bright purple color and a very gaudy gold. Had she still been a little girl, she might have considered it the peak of luxury and not just completely hideous. She doesn’t have long to focus on it though, because she soon realizes she is not alone in this magenta nightmare. A young woman is standing near what she assumes is the exit. At least, she thinks it’s a woman. She’s nothing like anyone Y/N has ever seen before, her skin a pale-yellow color and her hair a fiery orange.

It seems that the strange girl has yet to realize that Y/N is awake, as she is staring intently at the floor still. Y/N isn’t sure what she should be doing or whether or not she should be worried for her safety. The orange haired woman doesn’t seem to be much of a threat, but she is also clearly not human. And who knows what lays outside of this bedroom, so the H/C haired girl stays quiet. Though, this silence doesn’t last long.

As Y/N is still staring at the sunflower colored woman in front of her, the door swings open and a strange, but still human looking man strolls into the bedroom with a wide, mildly creepy grin on his face. He’s just about to say something to the woman at the door when he notices that Y/N is awake. His smile manages to grow even larger, creepier, but she is relieved to hear him speaking English when he opens his mouth. Not that Y/N’s listening very well. She’s still in a bit of shock at her situation and just how much has happened in the past few hours since Thor had knocked on her door. At least she thinks, hopes that its only been a few hours. She’s pulled out of her thoughts when she hears a familiar name, “…and of course Loki has informed me of your duty to him, so we will make sure that you’re brought back to him.”

Y/N isn’t even close to sure what he means by that, but another woman walks into the room and whispers something to the older man before she can ask.

“Well, I had planned on being able to bring you to Loki myself,” the Grandmaster, she thinks he said his name was, says with a weird, almost pleasured look on his face, “But sadly, I have matters to attend to so, um Blossom, is it? Yes, well then Blossom will have to take you instead.”

He throws a quick wink her way before exiting the room with the new woman right behind him. Y/N’s head doesn’t stop spinning once as she changes into the clean tunic that Blossom had given to her, nor does she calm down whatsoever as she is lead down a bunch of winding, maze like hallways. She tries hard to get her bearings as they walk, tries to remember what turns they take and what rooms and windows she passes, but it’s all just so disorienting and she’s having such a rough time wrapping her mind around any of it. The one thing she is sure of though, she’s definitely not on Earth anymore.

  It doesn’t seem to take the two women all that long to get to… well wherever they were going, but to Y/N it felt like an eternity. Her pulse hadn’t stopped racing and her eyes were darting all over, trying to catch any and all of the details that she could while still avoiding the eyes of those around her. She had only noticed a few truly human looking people around her, but she also knew not to put too much weight on looks. Both Thor and Loki look just as human as she does.

She was so concentrated on everything around her that she didn’t even notice when Blossom stopped in front of her until she is just about to crash into her. They are stopped in front of a large metallic door and the yellow-skinned girl gives it three quick knocks before coming to stand next to Y/N, instead of in front of her, for the first time since they had met.

Y/N’s still not sure what the Grandmaster had meant when he had mentioned her ‘duty to Loki’, as she had only just met him and she sure as hell didn’t owe him anything. He had only said like five words to her in the entirety of the time that they had spent together and almost all of those had been thinly veiled insults. He was the brother of a friend of hers and nothing more.

Loki looks a bit disheveled when he opens the door, dark hair messy from tugging at it and hands wringing at each other, but he quickly composes himself when he sees the two of you standing in front of him.  Had she not been so uneasy and confused, she probably would have been amazed at how easily he could hide his true feelings.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” he states before turning towards Blossom with a charming smile, “Thank you for bringing her back to me. I would hate to of lost my favorite handmaid.”

Y/N is left dumbfounded by what he has just said and the word ‘handmaid’ continues to echo in her head as she watches Blossom nod politely at Loki before taking her leave. The tall man motions her into the room and then raises one eyebrow at her when she doesn’t comply. Instead of following his unspoken order she continues to stand right where she is, refusing to play along with whatever game he seems to be playing.

“Being stubborn with just make this harder on both of us, Y/N. Come inside and I will answer all of the questions clearly racing through your head.” This is by far the most he had ever said to her and in her surprise, she allows him to lead her into the large living space.

While the room she had been in had clearing only been a small bedroom, this is a true loft. There is a kitchen to the right of the door they entered into and a door to the left that she assumed led into the bedroom. Towards the back wall there is a living area with a jade green couch and a grey armchair that match the rest of the grand apartment. She almost wants to laugh at the fact that he was somehow still managing to stick to this aesthetic, even here. Wherever here is.

They don’t make it very far into the living space before she manages to finally find her voice, “Handmaid?”

He chuckles at her astonishment before answering her oh-so articulate question, “A human would be seen as a luxury on this planet. It was important that I tied you to myself, so that you weren’t sold off like cattle or thrown into the Grandmaster’s fighting ring.” He says it like it’s so simple. Like any and all of what is happening is simple and she has to take a very deep breath to stop herself from losing it on him.

The thing is, nothing about any of this is simple to Y/N. She isn’t like him or Thor. She isn’t used to being on strange planets and spending time around different species. She isn’t used to being in danger, like she seems to be now. But, she doesn’t want to show weakness around the powerful man standing in front of her, so she chooses to push past this.

“And telling everyone that I’m your servant was the only way to do that!”

“Well, they wouldn’t exactly believe that someone from such a lesser species could be my companion. Even less so a confidant.”

It’s Y/N’s turn to raise an eyebrow at this. She doesn’t say another word to him, instead choosing to turn around with every intention of walking straight back out the door she had just come through. And she would have, had Loki’s large hand not grabbed her wrist to stop her and pull her back to face him.

“Where exactly are you trying to go?” He asks the question this time.

“I’d much rather take my chances out there then spend one more minute with you. Especially if you think that I am going to pretend to be a slave to you.” She keeps her chin held high and stares him in the eye the entire time she says this, refusing to show any signs of fear.

She pulls herself from his grip and heads for the door once again. He doesn’t stop her this time.

  It feels like she’s spent hours wandering up and down the halls of whatever very large building she had woke up in, before she finally finds a true exit. The street she walks out onto is overcrowded and hectic. All different species roam the road. She recognizes a few of them from stories that Thor had told her, but for the most part Y/N is completely unaware of where they all come from. She knows that most are probably far stronger than she is though, and she knows not to start anything with anyone.

The area she’s in seems to be a market of some sorts. There are rows and rows of vendors selling strange artifacts, and clothes, and foods that she doesn’t recognize. The food is what draws her eyes and despite none of it looking like anything that she is used to on Earth, her stomach still growls quite loudly. It’s only then that she realizes how little she has thought this through. She has no money and no way to get any. She has no where to stay and sleep. And she has no idea how exactly to solve any of these problems, so she decides to focus on one thing at a time.

After considering her options, Y/N decides that she should start by finding food. Not that her stomach is giving her much of a choice. She starts to head down one of the less packed rows of booths. Her eyes race from vendor to vendor, reading the scrap metal signs that hang above many of them. Most have multiple different languages on them, including English, thankfully, but she still doesn’t understand the pricing very well.

In all of her confusion, Y/N stops paying attention to all that is around her and runs hard into a very, very large blue man with an elongated head and deeps scars running across most of his face and visible body. He’s intimidating to say the least. Y/N’s eyes widen as he squares his shoulders back and sneers at her. When she goes to take a large step backwards she once again crashes into someone, but this time she is gently pushed to the side.

She looks up to catch dark green eyes and is relieved to see Loki’s handsome face. Y/N almost can’t believe how relieved she is to see him.

“I’m very sorry from this one here. Sadly, my maid isn’t the most graceful. I can assure you that I will have her taken care of for you.” Loki speaks with his normal calm voice and the scary looking man seems to respond well to him, as he nods slightly before turning and heading away from them.

Y/N once again finds herself being led through the large building she had been in earlier and if she wasn’t so shaken up she might even laugh at how quickly Loki finds his way back to his apartment. It takes him less than a third of time she had taken to find her way out with this much more direct route. When they make their way back inside he leads her to sit on the green couch, before resting himself in the grey armchair.

“Are you hurt?” His voice isn’t necessarily comforting, but it definitely isn’t unkind either.

“I don’t think so.” Y/N can’t find a more articulate answer than that in her nervous state.

He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes focused entirely on her before speaking again, “Do you understand now why you need to stay close to me?”

She can’t find the words to reply and instead just nods. He stays quiet for a while, just allowing her to collect her thoughts. She fiddles with the bottom hem of the green tunic she wears. The color makes more sense to her now.

A question pushes its way to the front of her mind, onto the tip of her tongue, “Why are you helping me?”

Loki takes a deep breath before answering and for a moment Y/N fears that she has angered him when she sees his fists clench, but he answers with the same calm voice that he’s been using, “It is what my brother would want, had he made it. Isn’t it?”

  The duo work out a system over the next few days. When they are out and about Y/N walks behind him, keeps her head down, and just generally tries to stay out of sight. The less attention she draws to herself the better. Meanwhile, Loki just continues to be his charming self. Saying that the Grandmaster ‘liked’ him would be the understatement of the century.

In fact, everything seemed to be going fine for about the first four or so days. Y/N was even learning to live with that fact that she was stuck here, at least until Loki could find a way out, but then the Grandmaster called everyone to the public meeting hall.

It’s no secret that Y/N is a pretty soft person. She’s the kind of girl who cries whenever an animal dies in a movie and who always stops to coo at any baby she sees while walking down the street. So, when she finds out why the Grandmaster had called everyone together, she tries to get out of there quick. She can barely watch any sort of violence on tv without wanting to throw up, but a public execution! How exactly is she supposed handle that?

Her and Loki had almost made it out one of the side doors when they are stopped by one the guards and told this is ‘mandatory viewing’. The death is quick, and Y/N is thankful for this, but she can still barely keep herself together on their way back to their 9th floor apartment. Loki keeps a hand on the small of her back while they walk, guiding her home gently.

Y/N tries to head straight for the soft armchair once they make their way inside, but ends up running towards the bathroom instead. She can’t seem to get the image of that man’s death out of her head and she can barely make it to the bathroom before she starts to heave. She’s hyperventilating at the same time as she empties the contents of her stomach into this weird space toilet. She barely even registers the hand holding her hair back or the one comfortingly running up and down her spine.

The same hands slowly and carefully help her sit up and lean against the wall once she stops throwing up. Y/N takes the time to get her breathing slightly more regular before she opens her eyes. Loki is kneeling next to her legs when she does. His emerald eyes are soft and full of concern. They almost take her breath away all over again.

Loki seems to be about to say something but changes his mind and instead hands her a glass of water that she hadn’t noticed in his hand a moment before. Once he is sure that she has drunk enough he takes the glass from her and she watches as it disappears with a flash of green. He then lifts his hand towards her but hesitates when he nears touching her face. When she doesn’t move away, he softly brushes away a few left-over tears.

Y/N is confused by his sudden kindness towards her. In the time they had spent on Sakaar so far together he had been distant and while he hadn’t been truly unkind to her, he had spent their time together mostly ignoring her. She didn’t expect anything more of him, of course. It’s not like they’re friends or anything. They’re just two people trying to survive, so she didn’t blame him for his behavior. But because of this, she has no idea how to respond to his sudden want to take care of her in this fragile state.

She does appreciate it though and finds herself leaning further into his tender touch. The way he stares into her eyes makes her feel safe and entirely too vulnerable all at once. And yet, for some reason, she doesn’t feel like looking away.

  Loki is sat out on the suede couch with a worn book in hand now. He had helped Y/N clean up after she had finally fully calmed down and he had even convinced her to let him take the couch for once. Now, he finds himself unable to focus on the story in front of him and instead finds that his eyes continue to stray towards the open bedroom door without his permission. He doesn’t understand it. Caring isn’t part of who he is. At least not anymore. And yet, he just couldn’t help himself. Not when it came to Y/N at least. He knew as soon as they landed on Sakaar that she was gonna be too soft for this place. He knew that she wasn’t gonna be able to survive on her own here. And as much as he doesn’t even want to admit it to himself, he knows that he isn’t just helping her because of her friendship with his brother. He sees something in her that makes him want to care for her. He had long thought that he was past caring for anyone for quite sometime now. Especially since his mother had died. But, Y/N proves otherwise.

Loki is pulled from his thoughts when he hears a small cry from the bedroom. He almost wants to fight himself when he instinctually moves from the couch towards the open door. He shouldn’t care so much about this girl. About this human. But he can’t seem to help himself. So, despite not being entirely too thrilled about it, he finds himself heading briskly towards the side of the bed where Y/N lays clenching at the sheets underneath her as she whimpers and cries out for help.

He lays his hand against her shoulder and whispers a quiet, “Y/N.”

He sees the girl shift slightly in her restless sleep and he can’t help but soften a little at the way her nose crinkles at his touch. When she doesn’t wake up he says her name again, slightly louder this time and rubs at her shoulder gently.

Y/N jerks forward when she wakes, as if she is being physically pulled from her nightmare. Loki rips his hand away from her out of fear that he might have hurt her, but when he notices how erratic her breathing has become once again, he finds that he cannot stay away from her. So, he whispers her name once more before taking a seat on the bed beside her and placing his large hand on the back of her neck, which he begins to run his thumb over in a comforting manner.

They sit in silence together for a moment and he finds himself thinking about how her skin is just as soft as he had learned she herself is. Just as he begins to think that she has calmed slightly, he feels and hears a sob wreck through her body. Loki is surprised when the young girl turns herself towards him before throwing herself into his arms. He doesn’t quite know how to respond to the position they are now in. She has her arms thrown around his broad shoulders and her face burrowed into his neck. And she is now mostly on top of him, sitting in his lap and resting most of her weight on him, not that this is in any way too much for the aesir to handle. He just isn’t used to anyone being this vulnerable with him.

He is unable to stay too wrapped up in his thoughts for long though, as sobs continue to find their way up and though her and Loki cannot stop his heart for breaking for the girl in his arms. She had not asked for any of this and yet she finds herself on this wasteland of a planet so entirely different from and more brutal then her own. She is not made for a place such as this, and while he had already known this before, he did not recognize the true extent of it until this moment.

And it makes him feel helpless. He knows that he can not fully shield her from the harsh realities of a planet such as this. He knows that he cannot truly take away the anguish she is feeling. But, he can help and while comfort has not part of his nature for a long while at this point, he is willing to try. For her.

He wraps his arms tightly around her. One arm wrapped around her waist anchoring her to him and the other pressed upwards against her spine, his hand making its way into her hair at the nape of her neck. He whispers soothing words into her ear and coos at her, rocking her and him back and forth until he can feel her breath even out against his throat. At this he eases himself and her backwards until their heads hit the cushiony pillows. He starts to draw away from her, but is stopped by the two hands holding tightly onto his lounge clothes and the quiet whine that comes from the now sleeping girl resting against him. So, he stays with her, and continues to hold her close to himself.

He tries to allow sleep to take him as well, but instead finds himself thinking about Y/N, who has now moved to lay slightly atop of his chest. He thinks about how kind she is, and how caring and genuine she is. He thinks about how truly good she is. And then he thinks about himself. About all of the people he has hurt, the pain he has caused. And he can’t help but think that she is so much better than he is.

Loki can only stop these dark thoughts by looking down at her. He runs a hand through her H/C hair and while he knows he is not worthy of her, for just one moment he allows himself to just be. He forces himself to stay in this moment with her, to focus on taking care of her and not the hate filled thoughts that run through his head. He doesn’t drift off to sleep until the early hours of the morning, but when he does, he does so with only her on his mind.

  When Y/N wakes up the next morning she is alone again. Her brain is almost as foggy as it was when she had landed on this god-forsaken planet and her head is pounding from all of the panic of the day before. She is able to think back on the night before through the clouds in her head none-the-less. She remembers the way Loki had sat with her as she had brushed her teeth and how had he left her only to go get a pair of the pajamas they had bought for her at one of markets. And how he had led her to the only bed despite her protests. She remembers the nightmares and him waking her up, the way he had cradled her in his arms as she had fallen back to sleep. These memories now seem more like fantasies. Why would an arrogant god such as himself take the time to care so well for her?

She is hesitant to get out of bed, to walk out of this room and see him. Y/N finds her hands clamming up out of embarrassment. She doesn’t like when anyone sees her in the state she was in last night. Definitely not someone she still hardly knows.

It takes a few minutes, but she is finally able to force herself to walk out towards the kitchen, where he sits at the counter with a book and a mug of tea, or at least Sakaar’s equivalent of tea. She hesitates before breaking the silence, mumbling a shy, “Good morning.”

She tries not to be offended when he only replies with a short nod, not even looking up at her from his book. This isn’t any different than how it would had been any other morning since they had gotten here, but last night definitely wasn’t any other night. She keeps her eyes off of him as she walks past and pulls out a container of a sweet custardy breakfast dish, frowning slightly when she takes her first bite. Y/N didn’t know that she could miss fresh produce as much as she does now.

She stares down at the counter as she eats and wonders if Loki is feeling the same amount of awkward tension in the room as she does. Her head hasn’t cleared up much and she thinks that she would probably be willing to give up her right arm for a Tylenol right about now, but still she finds that thoughts of last night keep forcing their way to the front of her brain. Y/n’s never been good at staying quiet for too long and today is no different. It only takes a few more minutes before she speaks up.

“Are you just going to ignore last night, Loki? Because I don’t think I can do that.” It all comes out in one long breath, while her face and neck turn a bright pink.

She watches him closely as he finishes the sentence he was reading before placing his book flat on the table and turning his head slightly to face her, one eyebrow raised. When he doesn’t reply Y/N starts talking again, just as rushed as before, “Because you normally just ignore me most of the time and that… well that definitely wasn’t what you were doing last night, and it just seemed really unlike you and it was really sweet and I really appreciate it. Like, I really do! I’m just a bit confused?”

Loki doesn’t like how close he is to being at a lack of words at this. He can hear the nerves in her voice and he finds everything about her in this moment so ridiculously sweet and cute and if he wasn’t completely set on ignoring his feelings for her, he might have pulled her back into his lap again and kissed her. But, he had promised himself when he woke up this morning that he wouldn’t let anything happen between them. She was too good, and he had hurt too many people to be willing to take the chance that she could be next. Because no matter what they were like on this planet, they’re eventually going to get off of it and he’s going to take her back to earth and she’s going to go back to being the kind, regular human girl that he had first met and even if something happened here, it wouldn’t be able to last. Because he’s him and she’s her. So, he will just have to do what he does best. Push her away.

“I don’t know what you think happened last night Y/N, but I wasn’t being sweet. I was only making sure that you didn’t accidently suffocate. It wouldn’t be wise of you to mistake that for kindness. I am not a kind man.”

Y/N becomes unable to respond to him and his harsh words. Instead she just stands there, mouth hanging open as she watches him pick back up his book and go straight back to reading as if nothing at all had happened. After a moment of gulping for air, she is able to pick her jaw up off of the ground and walk away, in an even more dazed state than she was already in.

  The next few days are tense. Y/N tries to follow Loki’s lead in acting like nothing had happened at all, but she doesn’t seem to be very good at it. She now finds herself stuttering on the few occasions that they did actually talk, and she starts to feel even more isolated on this planet than she already had, which she didn’t know was possible. Thankfully, there has yet to be another execution, just the random banquet or party here and there. She continues to keep her head down and does her best to ignore the way everyone else around them seems to stare at her. But one girl can only take so much, and it is all starting to wear on her.  

And Loki can see this, of course. And it’s wrecking him, of course. But he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to help, to hold and comfort her the way he had that night, but he still fears that doing this will only hurt her more in the long run. So instead, he watches from a distance. He watches to make sure that she is eating enough, and at least kind of taking care of herself, and that no one is making her uncomfortable when they are out of there apartment. He gives off stern looks to those who stare at her for too long and does his best to keep her away from the Grandmaster, who he can tell makes her uneasy whether she wants to say so or not.

In his free time, he continues to try to find a way to get them both off of this planet. He had quickly learned the codes for many of the Grandmaster’s systems, including codes that give Loki access to all of his ships. Now he spends his dinners casually asking around about a way to get out of this trash heap using one of said ships, but no one seems to have any idea of how to do so, or even if it’s been done before. On the couple of occasions in which he has started to become drained of hope, he finds himself looking towards Y/N. He reminds himself of the point of all of this and it helps, enough at least.

But, none of this does much to help Y/N with her loneliness and it’s becoming too much for her. It wasn’t until today though that it had become this bad. Loki had started making her sleep in the bed with him instead of on the couch-something about needing her rest once he finds a way out or something-and that was were she had woken up this morning, all alone in their apartment once again, after a night full of dreams about home, and her friends, and her family, and…a few about Loki as well. She tries to pass this off as just a result of spending most of her time with him, but she had never been good at lying, not even to herself.

She spends her morning trying to find any way to get her mind off of all of the emotions and frantic thoughts swirling through her head. But, nothing seems to help. She is unable to focus on any of the books that she picks up, as her thoughts continue to overshadow the stories in front of her. She cannot find the energy to truly try to clean or try to cook something even semi-appealing with all of the artificial ingredients this planet had to offer. And she can’t leave the apartment without Loki’s protection, so she is stuck alone with her thoughts for far longer than she can handle.

Her brain becomes a black hole. It sucks up all of the good thoughts that she tries to focus on and only leaves her with the negativity and a pounding head and heart. She doesn’t even notice when Loki walks in on her, hands wrapped tightly in her hair and chest heaving as she mumbles to herself.

She doesn’t notice him stop in the doorway at the sight of her. She doesn’t notice his distressed and grief-stricken expression, or the way his shoulders droop. She doesn’t notice him until he had made he was into the living area, until he stops to rest on his knees in front of her with a hand on her leg. She jumps at this and stares with wide eyes even after he had moved back slightly and raised his hands in front of him, as if she is a frightened animal that could scamper off at the slightest of movement. Y/N can’t even say for sure that he would be wrong about that.

He slowly reaches his hand up towards and gently wipes away a few tears, just like he had the last time he’d seen her like this, except this time she isn’t quite as thankful. She’s almost angry even. Or, maybe she just wants to be? She can’t stop thinking about how this had gone the last time. But, she can’t seem to push him away. She can’t even find the energy to try. So instead she allows him to slowly pull her into his arms once again, so that she is awkwardly cradled against his chest while he is still on the floor below her. And as angry as she wants to be, she can’t help but feel incredibly safe like this. He makes her feel safe. But, as she calms, this only serves to make her genuinely angry. She hasn’t even stopped shaking fully before she pushes him away.

“Y/N-“

She cuts him off, “Just stop, Loki! I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need or want your help! I can stop myself from suffocating without it.” She doesn’t give him the chance to say anything, instead heading straight for the bedroom without another word, leaving him still on the floor by the couch, shocked and sorrowful.

  Loki hadn’t realized that he was hurting her this badly, honest. He had thought that he was doing what was best for her by pushing her away, but he can see now that that wasn’t the reality. And he can’t help but think that he should have seen it earlier. That he should have helped her earlier. But, now it’s his turn to sit with his head in his hands, distraught. He knows that she needs her space right now, but staying away from her when he knows that she is hurting is so hard. He just wants to help her.

He waits about half an hour before becoming unable to stay away any longer. She doesn’t answer when he knocks, so he begins to speak to her in a calming voice instead, “Y/N, dearest, please let me in? I believe that it is time for us to speak honestly, me especially, if you will give me the chance.”

Loki barely hears her reply, as her answer is just a small, mumbled, “Ok.”

She is still curled under the emerald sheets, refusing to so much as look at him. It breaks his heart to see her this way, so curled in on herself and hidden. From him. She doesn’t say anything to him as he sits down of the edge of the mattress, careful to still give the girl her space.

“Oh, Love. I am so very sorry for the pain I have caused you over the past few weeks. It has never been my intention, though I see now that that hasn’t made a difference,” He pauses for a moment, trying to give her the opportunity to speak, but she continues to face away from him without so much as a peep, “I believed that keeping you from myself would help you, but I see now why that wouldn’t be true. I am so sorry that I have left you to feel so alone here. I never wanted that.”

Loki doesn’t know what else to stay, so instead he just sits there, hoping that his presence will help her feel less alone. And while he won’t force her, he does hope that she will talk to him soon. He misses her soft voice and would happily listen to her seethe at him again, rather than continue to ignore him. It takes a few moments, but she does fulfil his wish eventually, “Why?”

It’s not much and Loki isn’t quite sure what she is asking him about, exactly, but he still beyond relieved when she chooses to speak to him. He decides to give a more general answer, “As you know, I have hurt a lot of people, especially those closest to me and I did not want you to become one of them. I, well I guess that I allowed myself to become selfish and to protect myself instead of truly protecting you,” He stops again, as she finally turns towards him, staring at him with now puffy eyes. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “If you would allow me to, Y/N, I would like to make it up to you. I would like to do better.”

Loki stretches his hand out towards her and she stares at for a moment before reaching out and taking it into her own. A small grin points out from the corners of his mouth as he squeezes her small one with his own, before moving slowly to lay next her and then slowly and gently pulling her to lay on his chest. He makes sure to give her time to push him away, but when she doesn’t he wraps his arms around her tightly.

Loki is grateful to find that her breathing has steadied itself and that she is no longer shaking violently. He promises himself that he will do better this time. And he does. When Y/N wakes up the next morning he is still there, right where he said he would be before she had fallen asleep in his arms once again.

@inthomaswetrust @gabnelson98 @bbcsassdeadass @whydontweprincess

[flareguncalamity]

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Molly and Giovanni from Epithet Erased. They are posed side by side, both facing forward at a 3/4ths angle, with Molly slightly behind Giovanni so that she’s inside of his cape. They seem to be caught in a gust of dramatic wind. Giovanni has one hand extended and foreshortened, fingers splayed towards the viewer, and the other hand posed in front of his face like a corny anime villain. he has a smug, mean-looking grin on his face reminiscent of knife cat. Molly has one arm in front of her posed similarly to a taekwondo inside block, with her elbow forward obscuring her upper body and her hand in a fist. Her other arm is extended back behind her, mirroring Giovanni’s pose. She has her knees bent in somewhat of a fighting stance (although her pose is more wacky villain than balanced fighter). Molly looks up at Giovanni with a confident and mischievous smile that mimics her Boss’s. Both are in their regular outfits- Molly wears her bear hoodie with the hood down, over a pleated green skirt, vertically striped purple stockings, a purple and green striped shirt, and a pair of oversized yellow wellie boots. She also wears her yellow backpack. Giovanni is wearing his Banzai captain uniform- a yellow jumpsuit with pointy yellow pauldrons, red and white bracers with spiked hand guards, white knee high platform boots with red trim, a gaudy white and gold belt, and a long flowing cape tied around his neck, embellished with a golden Banzai Blaster emblem pin. His hair is clipped back with a single black barette. In the background, there are several overlaid spiky impact bubbles colored bright green and pink. The pair are outlined in white, matching the white backdrop. The top left corner has text in a funky black font that reads “Great at Crime!” with the artist’s signature right below. END ID]

happy two years of being great at crimes to my favorite museum heisting, amulet stealing, bad guy stopping thief sibling duo <3

[absintheur-blog1]

aesthetic meme: list your muses aesthetic. anyone can do this, list your muse’s aesthetic from tastes, smells, outfits, and sceneries. add as many subjects as you like, it can help with people tagging you in aesthetically pleasing things towards your muse!

tagged by: nobody bitch.

tagging: @molothrus you suck.

TASTES: expensive chocolate. stale smoke. red meat. alcohol. vomit. 

SMELLS: harshly spiced cologne. fucking. cigarillos. incense.

SIGHTS: roman busts. draped velvet. bruises. a blood-stained handkerchief. ivy. greek columns. a taxidermy fox. dusty mahogany bookshelves. flies. moonlight through lace curtains. candles, dying. paint-flecked brushes. an angry cigarette burn. spilled wine. crocodile leather. a lock of blonde hair. scarab beetles. ice sculptures. an opium pipe. gold picture frames. 

SOUNDS: glass breaking. ballroom music from afar. whispers. a match being struck. the click of a cigar cutter. a sigh. paper on a crackling fire. the clink of glasses. the distant warble of a gramophone. a cork popping. the pouring of liquor.

OUTFITS: pointed-toed boots in black patent leather. a well-tailored but gaudy suit. sock-suspenders and braces. a starched white shirt. a paisley cravat. a brocade smoking jacket and cap. capes, in ugly checks or velvet. a top hat. cufflinks. black leather gloves. brooches and tie-pins. gold spectacles perched on the end of his nose. pocket watch. a silver-topped cane. gold. peacock blue. dark green. purple. burgundy. chocolate brown. 

OTHER: nausea. trembling. gossip. the flutter of a fan. track marks, purple and ugly. sleeping in past noon. 

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #159: Siege by Stealth and Storm!

May, 1977

So I guess Thor and Black Panther are going to join the party. Thanks for spoiling that, the cover.

And who the hell is that woman by Graviton. Its not Judy. And its not Raquel.

COVER ARTIIIIIIIIIIST!!!

Anyway.

LAST TIME: Vision and Wonder Man had a punch-up but then plot happened and plot happened to be Graviton. A scientist from most sinister Canada, he got gravity powers in a dumb lab accident, used them to throw stuff at people’s heads until he leveled up enough to uproot a research village and stomp the Avengers.

And now they all float up here.

But Graviton’s delighted gloating to Judy is spoiled because Judy isn’t listening. She’s unconscious after Raquel brained her with a vase. So Graviton smacks her for touching his fave.

How dare she, etc. She’s just a gold digger who wasn’t interested in him when he was Frank Hall but now that he is powerful, suddenly she’s sniffing around.

Geez and wow. Someone keep Graviton away from reddit.

Okay but Raquel reveals she wasn’t just bursting in randomly the previous issue to warn Graviton about the Avengers. She was actually bursting in because the Avengers had freed the other scientists before they attack him. And now they have guns and they’re right over there and they are really bad shots.

Because no time to gun range when there’s SCIENCE to be done!

And it doesn’t matter. For two separate reasons. Reason one: He can just make a gravity shield that makes the bullets bounce harmlessly off.

Because, sure, gravity can probably do that.

Reason two: if they had shot him, the stupid floating island would have plummeted BECAUSE HE IS THE ONE LEVITATING IT DUMBASSES.

Damn. He kept the giant land chunk floating and solo’d the Avengers. This guy is tough.

Instantly I want to see him fight Magneto. Because Magneto would kick his ass even though logically Graviton’s powers are more versatile. Although experience matters.

Instantly I want to also see him fight Gravity Suit Samus. Kick his ass, Samus.

Anyway.

The scientists realize that they’re not quite ready to die for their convictions but hey time to die anyway! Graviton just gravity scoops them all up and prepares to huck them over the side.

Fortunately, Judy regains consciousness in time to beg for their lives, promising to do anything Graviton says if he spares them and especially Joe.

Joseph complains but Graviton tosses him Raquel as an explicit consolation prize and then lets the scientists all waft down as gentle as the gentlest dandelion puff.

While also motoring the flying island off to the east.

And hours later, the flying island arrives at New York. Which I guess? you can reach by going east from Canada?

Anyway, a giant land mass appearing above New York never leads to anything good so obviously they scramble the jets. But there’s a crazy gravity shield surrounding the island and protecting it from any and all harm, which I guess gravity can do.

We even get a brief bit of people reacting. That’s how you know something is legit.

The various citizenry is convinced its either aliens or the communists or maybe communist aliens. Daredevil going ‘welp nothing I can do about that. Might as well go beat up looters.’ And while Dr. Strange and the Defenders COULD help, they’re out of town. As are the Fantastic Four.

Must be a busy day, superhero wise.

I thought I’d go and check what the Defenders were actually up to this month but they had a crossover with Wonder Man so its probably not chronologically parallel.

Anyway, we see Jarvis sitting sadly alone in the Avengers Mansion, watching the news and fretting. He salutes the shelf full of random Avenger golden statues that the Avengers just so happen to keep on a shelf in the mansion (they even have one of Wonder Man already!) but then a voice interrupts him.

And its Black Panther. Hi, Black Panther!

Just chilling in a chair, having snuck up on Jarvis without announcing himself or anything. So he’s the stealth. The storm will probably be along shortly.

After an off-panel exposition dump about Graviton, Black Panther decides he can reach the sky-island easily on one of the Avenger one-man sky-sleds. Jarvis completely forgot about them!

Probably because I don’t think they’ve ever been mentioned up until now. And we’re not even going to see them this time.

Anyway, there’s the question of what Black Panther’s stealth alone can do.

ENTER THOR. Just walking through a door. Sorry if you thought there’d be more.

Meanwhile, back on the sky-island, we see that Graviton has been busy in addition to relocating his sky-island into New York’s airspace.

He somewhere found a cape and jewelry to dress up Judy as his queen. Because Frank Hall has issues.

And he also gravitationally pinned the Avengers to a big slab as a monument to that time he totally beat the Avengers.

Why is he so much better at collecting the Avengers than the Collector??

Additionally, he also contacted the UN and told them that if they don’t surrender the world to him, he’ll destroy the great cities of the world one-by-one starting with New York, where the UN is.

So I guess they get one strike.

Anyway, Graviton sees Judy’s complete despair with this entire situation and mistakes it for worry… that the UN won’t capitulate to him fast enough! Don’t be worried about that, silly Judy!

And then Thor arrives and disappointingly does not request to have words with Graviton.

I know… I know it wouldn’t be as special if it were more common. But I have to have hope in my heart.

Anyway. The action figures that are Thor and Graviton smash together but in vain. Graviton’s force field is even strong enough to repel the thunder god.

In fact, y’know what? MAYBE GRAVITON IS A GOD. Of gravity, ‘natch.

So Thor gets peeved and does the thing where he summons the biggest lightning bolt.

Annnnnnd its still to no effect.

This is probably the result of changing writers twice since then but I don’t know what the intended read on this is supposed to be re: Thor having to leave the Avengers because he was slumming with them.

Because: spoilers:: Thor is about to get stomped too.

I know Moondragon couldn’t see the future but its interesting that shortly after Thor leaves the team for being too powerful for them, the Avengers run into someone who might rival Thor for power.

And it will keep happening!

I wonder if Shooter rejected that character beat or whether this is just a side-effect to his particular writerly tendencies.

Anyway, Graviton throws a building at Thor. Thor KA-BLAM!s it but not in a cool, fun way involving an anthology of animations. And then he KRRRAK!!s Graviton with lightning but I guess? Graviton just reflects it back?? Because gravity works that way???

Meanwhile, the cool exec with the heart of steel, Iron Man. He’s figured out A Thing.

Namely, the gravitational field pinning the Avengers to the slap only goes so far. And if he can use his jet boots and repulsors to push off the slab juuuuuuuuust enough, he’ll be free from the slab.

And in fact, he does do these very things.

Okay but now what? Go help his bestie Thor or take the time to free the others?

Definitely go help Thor, yells Black Panther from the bushes where he has perhaps been this entire time.

Anyway, he has a field disruptor that he borrowed from Tony Stark’s lab in Avengers Mansion and it can probably disrupt gravitational fields. I mean, that makes sense.

So Iron Man is free to fly off and confront Graviton. Again.

Except this time, Iron Man uses ‘strategy.’ If Thor’s hammer can’t penetrate Graviton’s force field, then a direct approach is probably pointless.

But what if he slams into the ground NEAR Graviton to throw him off his game and then try to punch him?

Okay! That… nearly worked!

Punching at peak punch, he managed to dent the force field. Which I guess isn’t invisible.

However it wasn’t enough and Graviton recovered and with a gesture brought Iron Man down.

But that bought the time Black Panther needed to free the rest of the Avengers and now they all rush at Graviton, saying the usual things.

Scarlet Witch: “We’re free! And while an Avengers lives to fight, you haven’t yet ‘triumphed’!”

Captain America: “This time we’re ready for your tricks!”

These usual things would usually signal the tide turning for the Avengers. A second wind that let them defeat a previously dominating foe.

But this isn’t a usual time for the usual things to work in. This is Shooter.

And this is Graviton.

Since the Avengers were obliging enough to be running together in one easily thwarted clump, he just traps them all in a gravity force field.

Womp womp.

Can nothing defeat this gravity man?

How about Judy?

Because while he was distracted beating up the Avengers, AGAIN, she ran off. Leaving a trail of jewelry as she went. Jewelry which Graviton apparently made himself which explains where a bunch of gaudy treasure came from on a research truck stop.

And the jewelry trail leads to a cliff and… stops.

The clear insinuation that Judy killed herself to escape his clutches.

Clear unless you’re Graviton, who decides to blame the Avengers. Because he cannot fathom that she was absolutely disgusted by his attentions.

And in his rage he decides to unleash all his power at once and blast them to atoms, which gravity can probably do?

But then something goes wrong. Its too much power or Graviton is too emotional or something somewhere had a bad thing happen for reasons. Because Graviton’s power turns back on himself, turning him into an incredibly potent gravity well. As if a living black hole, says Captain America, who can clearly see that light can still escape.

The gravity dome holding the Avengers fades as the sky-island starts to break up. So they escape, of course. Luckily, there are enough fliers that all the non-flying Avengers have a flying buddy.

And good thing too.

Because the sky-island breaks into pieces and folds up around Graviton, condensing into a small but super dense sphere. And the last of Graviton’s power wears off and the sphere goes plummeting to the ground from, I don’t know, maybe a mile up?

Even though its small, it still has the same mass it did as a flying chunk of real estate. It hitting the ground after falling so far is going to be like hitting New York with an earthquake.

Forget about an earthquake though, its going to hit like a meteor!

Unless the Avengers can do something about it!

Which they do!

Yay!

Specifically, the strongest Avengers all stand where the giant sphere is going to land (a winning strategy so far…) and catch it.

And this dissipates the impact, I guess? I feel like I know less about physics than when I started off this comic.

Then they huck it into the sea because that’s easier than setting it down, more dramatic, and besides it may contain a Graviton. Clearly, dump it.

The Avengers return to the mansion, musing on how it was beauty what killed the beast. Okay not really. Thor is talking about how bitter a victory, bought at the cost of a tragic death rather than punching someone into submission.

Except hey! Guess who is best butler? Its Jarvis!

He off-paneled! He off-paneled good! He was flying one of the sky-sleds hoping to be of some aid and he spotted a plummeting Judy and saved her!

A happy ending for everyone except Graviton and fuck that guy!

Speaking of guys I hate, next time its Grim Reaper. Sigh and groan but I guess it was inevitable. You can’t bring back Wonder Man and expect Grim Reaper to not have something to say about it.

Grim Reaper’s entire deal is doing stupid things because his brother is deeeeeaaaaad so I wonder what stupid thing he’s going to do because his brother is aliiiiiiive.

[vex-bittys]

No Lips to Seal: An Underfell Story

Contains: SFW, no content warnings

Some say that it is violence shrouding Underfell in darkness; others say it is secrets, buried more deeply even than the monsters in their underground prison of earth, stone, and ancient magic. In this world it’s kill or be killed, and the best way to survive is to keep a whole deck of aces up your sleeve. This isn’t a story about having aces in spades, however. This is the story of a joker and a knave.

Sans had worried about Papyrus’ future from the moment the babybones had tumbled out of his incubation tube and bitten him on the ankle. Such ferocity boded well for Papyrus’ future, or it would have if Sans didn’t know his little brother at all. Despite his savage antics, Papyrus had a caring and merciful soul, and in Underfell, that made him just as big of a target as his older brother.

Sans possessed only a single hit point. This, combined with his equally singular attack and defense, meant easy experience for any monster who didn’t know better. Dragging a babybones along in his foraging made it a two-for-one deal. How Sans managed to survive the frequent attacks remained the Underground’s best kept secret. Sans did have a stat a bit higher than the loneliest number, a stat that couldn’t be viewed by Checking him: his LV. In this world, Sans wasn’t about to allow himself or his brother to be killed.

Sans honed his skills, practicing dodging and overwhelming opponents with a barrage of attacks. He perfected blue magic, developed elaborate bone attacks, and even had one of his teeth capped in gold to give the illusion of toughness. Eventually, he and his younger brother had settled in Snowdin.

The small town of Snowdin lacked the dense population of the capitol. The few residents who fought for experienced simply weren’t interested in the meager pickings from a puny skeleton monster and his babybones brother. The local guards were willing to overlook Sans and Papyrus entirely as long as Sans periodically threw them a literal bone. In the Fell, you accepted peace and safety for as long as you could hold onto it, but nothing lasts forever.

As Papyrus matured, it became painfully obvious that he would be the opposite of his older brother in every way. His tall, lanky stature made his brother look even more stout, and his penchant for high-heeled boots only accentuated the difference further. Papyrus lacked Sans’ single-minded disregard for any lives but theirs; his soul burned with empathy. His mind sought to see the good in others, a pursuit that Sans had long since given up on.

The most important difference, the one thing that changed everything, involved Papyrus’ stats. Everyone who knew the gold-toothed skeleton assumed that his younger brother would have similarly sub-par attack, defense, and hit points. Even Sans hadn’t expected Papyrus to blossom into such a powerful monster. Unfortunately, a well-endowed monster represented a life-changing wealth of experience, and that meant Sans and his brother were no longer safe in Snowdin.

It happened on a sunny afternoon, not that the sun ever really penetrated the thick canopy of trees where Papyrus practiced magic attacks with Sans and occasionally designed elaborate puzzles. That afternoon, Papyrus bounced excitedly as he eagerly showed Sans the system of spikes and pressure pads he’d set up. He was explaining the solution to Sans, who, though quite clever, feigned bafflement to please his brother when the dog monster attacked.

Doggo, a Guardsdog and regular at Grillby’s, landed only a single blow, claws tearing deeply into bone over Papyrus’ left eye. He didn’t get a chance to press the attack against the shocked teenager; Sans moved like lightning, pinning the mongrel to a nearby tree with a bone attack before summoning a pair of dragon-skull Gaster Blasters to end his worthless life. The Blasters opened their mouths in unison, jaws unhinging as they gathered energy.

Ping!

Papyrus had only perfected one bit of battle magic, and he used it now to turn his own brother’s soul blue. The dragon skulls froze in stasis, magic swirling in their gaping, unmoving maws. Doggo, sensing a reprieve, struggled against the bone that had punctured his shoulder and held him to the tree. Sans’ attacks were efficient and accurate- they had to be- and left his opponent with no chance for escape. Red snarled, fighting his brother’s magical immobilization

.“Papyrus!” he snapped.

“Sans, I’m sorry. Please don’t kill him. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson!” Papyrus pleaded for Doggo’s life even as he clutched his damaged socket, blood seeping between his fingers. Doggo nodded his enthusiastic agreement to Papyrus’ statement.

“Fine, just let go of my soul, Papyrus.” Sans’ red eyelights never left Doggo’s claws, dripping his brother’s blood onto the previously pristine snow.

“Promise me, Sans,” pressed the lanky skeleton. He knew his brother too well.

“I promise not to kill him,” growled Sans. As soon Papyrus released his soul, one of the Gaster Blasters dissipated with a whoosh. The other Blaster, however, spewed a beam of concentrated energy squarely into Doggo’s eyes.

“Sans!” Papyrus shouted in reproach as Sans dismissed his bone attack. Doggo collapsed at the base of the tree, clutching his face and howling in agony. Sans was already walking away, discarding the would-be murderer like so much human anime.

“C’mon Paps. I need to take a look at those scratches. The mangy bastard will live.” He added the word probably under his breath. Sans truly didn’t care either way, but his younger brother would be traumatized if he saw his assailant die.

Subdued, Papyrus followed Sans home. After inspecting the wound, Sans reassured his brother that his eyesight would be unaffected, but he would have a pretty intimidating scar over much of the left side of face. Sans had little hope that the scarring would discourage future attacks; the potential experience from a powerful monster was worth the risk to many who were trying to get ahead in the Fell. How long could Sans keep his brother safe? How long before he lost the only thing that mattered to him?

That night over a hot dinner of Papyrus’ lasagna and chilly silence, Sans concocted his most ambitious plan ever, a plan to construct a facade that would encompass their entire lives. Their new fabricated identities would be their armor against a dangerous world. Maybe the illusion of kill or be killed would suffice.

Sans set his plan in motion the next day while Papyrus stayed home to recuperate from his injuries. The first step? Approaching the Captain of the Royal Guard, Undyne, and convincing the savage fish monster to accept Papyrus into the Guard without testing him. Despite his high stats, Papyrus had failed to master even basic battle magic; turning a soul blue had been his one and only success.

The moment Sans stepped forward to speak to Undyne, he could feel her Checking him. The Captain had the audacity to laugh raucously at his meager stats before she outright insulted him.

“Whaddaya want, weakling?” she snapped, her one good eye constantly roving the ranks of the Guard. They feared her enough to behave, even behind her back. That’s why none of them even dared to gasp in shock when Sans challenged her to a fight.

She choked on laughter, doubled over, barely able to squawk a disbelieving “What?” before Sans continued, unfazed, tone icy.

“My brother wants to be Captain of the Royal Guard in Snowdin. He’s tired of the mutts running amok or lazing about, but he’s not interested in serving under a commander who’s all reputation and no substance. He wants me to see if you’re worth his time.”

Undyne glared daggers at the diminutive skeleton monster. “I guess your brother wants to be an only child.” On the last words, she lunged at Sans, summoning her spear in mid air and thrusting where Sans’ body had been a mere moment earlier. Undyne followed each of his movements with a stab of her weapon, trying and failing to anticipate his next dodge.

Screeching with frustration, the Captain of the Royal Guard increased her speed and redoubled her efforts to impale the puny being that mocked her. After a particularly skillful dodge, Sans summoned a pair of bones, driving them into the ground in a cross shape and trapping the pole arm beneath them. With a smug grin, he materialized a pair of Gaster Blasters. They awaited the command to gather magic, but Sans hoped that his performance had been adequate to satisfy Undyne.

Undyne glared. How had this miserable single hit point monster bested her? “You’re not bad, shrimp. Bring you brother to me tomorrow. I’d like to meet the monster cold enough to risk his brother for a Royal Guard position.”

Sans nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He’d exhausted every bit of energy within him for this victory; he couldn’t spoil it by fainting. No, he teleported home to do that, crashing face down on the bed into deep unconsciousness. He’d survived. He’d succeeded. Now he just had to get Papyrus to agree to his grand scheme. Later though. Now, he needed a nap.

“Are you sure this will work, Sans?” Papyrus asked for the umpteenth time that day, pawing nervously at the outfit Sans had designed for him. His brother had insisted he wear his favorite red boots, but the rest of the clothes were atrocious. A tattered shirt with armored shoulder pads left his spine exposed, and the low slung leather pants held up by the gaudy silver skull belt buckle didn’t even cover the crests of his hipbones. He thought the gloves and tattered scarf/cape looked just plain ridiculous. He didn’t want the other monsters to make fun of him!

When they arrived at the castle, the entire Royal Guard stood at attention to greet them. Those who had not been present for yesterday’s battle had been filled in by their fellow Guards, and by the time the story had fully circulated, it was well embellished. No one dared to mock the tall skeleton, imposing in his black and red attire, for fear of swift and fatal retribution.

Undyne strode haughtily forward to face the newcomer, and the heels of his boots lent Papyrus just enough height to be taller than her. Sans kept his face impassive, staying behind Papyrus at all times, giving the impression of a servile attitude. 

“So you’re the great and terrible Papyrus?” Undyne’s voice held a mocking undertone, meant to challenge the tall skeleton with his angular features and gruesome scar.

“Obviously,” Papyrus shot back coolly. Just like they’d practiced.

“And what exactly do you propose to do as Captain of Snowdin’s Guards?” Undyne disliked the cold immensely and without her heavy-handed guidance, the dogs of the Guard had become something of a running joke.

“Patrol for humans and set puzzles and traps to befuddle and capture them. And no more rowdy parties, chugging junk food at that disgusting bar!” Papyrus improvised in the disdainful growl that he and Sans had agreed on. Sans would’ve patted his brother’s back, but that would break character.

“What makes you think there will ever be a human in Snowdin?” Much of Undyne’s reputation centered around her capture of a fallen human.

“What makes you think there won’t be?” 

Silence fell in the wake of the insubordinate answer. Undyne’s booming laughter shattered it. She clapped a firm hand on Papyrus’ shoulder. “The position is yours!”

They’d done it!

Undyne’s sarcastic moniker stuck, and stories of the Great and Terrible Papyrus spread like wildfire, with a bit of help from some well-placed lies, courtesy of Sans. The new Captain appointed his weak, servile brother as a sentry, and rumor had it that he had done so to keep the smaller skeleton under his thumb. Doggo thanked his lucky stars that Papyrus had allowed Sans to punish him. His eyesight never fully recovered, but Doggo somehow convinced himself that Papyrus had intended to kill him when Sans intervened.

The ruse worked like a charm. For his part, Sans referred to his little brother as Boss and even wore a spiked red collar he’d found at the dump, pretending Papyrus had given it to him. The Great and Terrible Papyrus spent much of his time building traps and recalibrating his puzzles in the dense Snowdin forests. Nobody bothered him, fearing his wrath. Papyrus had an imperious nature and a scathing tongue, and no monster dared rile him enough to risk an attack.

As for Sans, nobody bothered him either. His laughable stats and his brother’s protection weren’t worth the measly experience or waste of time killing him. When they retired to their home at night, whispers ensued about what they must be up to behind the locked doors and blacked out windows. 

Nobody could ever have guessed that the Great and Terrible Papyrus made lasagna for his brother most nights. They’d watch the latest MTT TV specials, and then Papyrus would don his bunny pajamas and Sans would read him Fluffy Bunny stories until he dozed off in his racecar bed.The skeleton brothers of Snowdin became Underfell’s best kept secret. 

The pair had found a way to avoid killing or being killed. Most importantly, every night when Papyrus fell asleep, Sans would Check his stats. They remained the same, impressively high, except for one- the statistic that couldn’t be checked, Papyrus’ LV. It mirrored Sans’ own stats.

One.

INDEX

[membersroom-blog]

G is for gold

1) is a grave mask from 1st C AD Ninevah in northern Iraq. It was once the largest city in the world on the banks of the river Tigris, influenced by a lot of different cultures. It was tied by the holes on to a corpse. It's basically a high class tinfoil death mask.

2) is the early bronze age, completely unique cape from Wales. It was found slightly crumpled and must have been incredibly uncomfortable, pinning ones arms to ones sides. I first studied this a few years ago and the thing that struck us was the attitudes of these ancestors towards material wealth. Clearly it was a much better idea to die with it than pass it on.

3) from the great death pit at Ur (where the board game came from, you can see the similar style on the base) is this fabulous Ram in a Thicket. There were two, the other one is in Philadelphia, and was probably the base of a table or stand. It is 4500 years old. I'm not a fan of gaudy gold gewgaws but ever since I first saw it i've always fancied a ram in a thicket.

4) is a diadem from southern Italy from 250 BC, and it is by far the most impressive piece of gold in the place. I have no idea why it isn't featured or prominent in the display, it's kind of tucked away at the back. The flowers and the detail is amazing and it features a tiny Eros, god of love. Someone once loved someone very much.

5) is actually modern but it tells the story in gold thread of some sufi mystic dude and his journey across north africa in 13th C. It's made in Algeria by Rachid Koraichi and is called the Path of Roses. I absolutely adore language and script in artworks, it is beautiful whatever it says.

[themembersroom]

G is for gold

1) is a grave mask from 1st C AD Ninevah in northern Iraq. It was once the largest city in the world on the banks of the river Tigris, influenced by a lot of different cultures. It was tied by the holes on to a corpse. It's basically a high class tinfoil death mask.

2) is the early bronze age, completely unique cape from Wales. It was found slightly crumpled and must have been incredibly uncomfortable, pinning ones arms to ones sides. I first studied this a few years ago and the thing that struck us was the attitudes of these ancestors towards material wealth. Clearly it was a much better idea to die with it than pass it on.

3) from the great death pit at Ur (where the board game came from, you can see the similar style on the base) is this fabulous Ram in a Thicket. There were two, the other one is in Philadelphia, and was probably the base of a table or stand. It is 4500 years old. I'm not a fan of gaudy gold gewgaws but ever since I first saw it i've always fancied a ram in a thicket.

4) is a diadem from southern Italy from 250 BC, and it is by far the most impressive piece of gold in the place. I have no idea why it isn't featured or prominent in the display, it's kind of tucked away at the back. The flowers and the detail is amazing and it features a tiny Eros, god of love. Someone once loved someone very much.

5) is actually modern but it tells the story in gold thread of some sufi mystic dude and his journey across north africa in 13th C. It's made in Algeria by Rachid Koraichi and is called the Path of Roses. I absolutely adore language and script in artworks, it is beautiful whatever it says.

[zillyeh]

🗣 zipper and smiles thank u

Send me 🗣+ the names of 2 muses on the blog, and there will be a random conversation written involving them.

For context this happens during the Yule Ball. I've been sitting on this concept for like half a year lmfao. Also Doc Version bc this is 1,193 words long lol.

Zippie was a fish out of water in most polite social situations- a ball of all things was far beyond her comfort zone. She hadn’t shoved herself into a suit and doused herself in a haze of cologne for her own sake, of course, but she was still suffering the consequences of being here. Namely being approached by strangers. Short, robbable strangers. The old jadeblood who dared it this time had a haughty air about him.

“We aren’t exactly subtle, are we?” He said, his tone, face, and gaudy gold accents immediately punchable. A half cape? A watch chain? She couldn’t really say anything about the white tuxedo, but it was different when he was so obviously moneyed.

“Can I help you?” She asked, impolite as she’d been to anyone else she didn’t immediately recognize.

“I believe you can, Undertaker.” He said with a smile, his freaky fangs moving with his lips. He tugged at that chain in his pocket, flashing a gold watch with a symbol she was all too familiar with. That crying eye that lined almost every Delhon City alleyway. She’d never seen it outside of a spray painted spot on a brick or the sidewalk or Dale’s wrists before. Of course. Of course.

Zippie clenched her teeth. Did all her feelings of foreboding always have to be right?

“I’ll help you alright you motherf-”

“Tsk, are we really going to have an altercation in the middle of such a pristine event, Miss Undertaker?” He asked condescendingly. Even without the hostility between them she would have wanted to toss him off one of this mansion’s balconies.

“I think you over estimate how much I give a shit about what polite society thinks of me, Smiles.” Zippie spat, clenching her fist. This could be the first and last time she saw the man in person, if nearly twenty sweeps of never seeing tail of him meant anything.

“Believe me I don’t.” Smiles nodded over her shoulder, Zippie followed his eye and released her hand. Bess- who had been catching up with her old co-performers- was talking animatedly with a tall, broad tealblood that was just as obnoxiously dressed as Smiles. He glanced over his shoulder and winked. Bess didn’t seem to notice.

“If you touch her-”

“If you touch me.” He said smugly, knowing full well he had his hooks in. “Join me upstairs, won’t you? It’s so awfully loud down here...”

Zipper said nothing as he lead her through the crowd to a VIP balcony area overlooking the ballroom. She clenched and unclenched her fists, occasionally looking back to Bessba until they reached the top of the stairs.

There were a quartet of massive blue and olivebloods waiting for them at the top, but nobody else. It seemed that this was Smiles’ alone.

“Out.” Smiles said firmly. The four wordlessly removed themselves from the room, but not without giving Zippie some glares. She returned them in full force.

“Champagne, wine?” Smiles offered, gesturing to an ice bucket on his table. “It’s far better up here than down there.”

Zippie wordlessly crossed her arms and leaned against the balcony, trying to find Bess in the crowd. Her white hair made it easy, at least.

“Alright, I’ll get to the point, then.” He said, clearly having underestimated just how unreceptive Zippie would be to this. He placed himself in front of her- too close- gripping the ornate rail in front of them.

“Your little north city group would have better odds working with mine than against it.” Smiles said. Zippie waited for the punchline. She scoffed when he let that hang in the air.

“Oh fuck off.” She said, wondering if he really had that much audacity.

Smiles’ pet teal had convinced Bess to dance.

“I don’t think our goals are all that dissimilar, are they Undertaker? I gather we both want what’s best for Delhon.”

“It’s Anthem unless you’re in my church, Smiles.” Zippie said through gritted teeth. “And you don’t want shit for Delhon besides what can gild your fucking lapels.”

Smiles laughed, stepping back, placing a hand on his chest. Bess seemed to be leading.

“Is that what you think? What has my reputation trickled down to in the streets? My heart’s always been set on the city’s best interest.”

“Uh huh, sure. I know your type. You’re a couple decades too late for me to fall for your shit.” Zippie stood up a little straighter, taller than him by just enough. “That all you want from me then, Smiles? Cause we coulda saved the trip up here if you just let me tell you to go fuck yourself downstairs.” That tealblood was just tall enough against Bess’ heels to twirl her around.

“Oh no sweetheart.” Smiles said with a wave of his hand. “It’s such a barrage of colors down there, it’s hard to sniff out one singular anon.”

Zippie froze, gripping the railing hard enough the wood and the pins in her wrist protested.

“Oh, are we listening now?” He teased, stepping closer again. She took a substantial step back.

“Stay away from me.” She threatened, feeling the hairs on her arms stand up. Zippie couldn’t afford to spark right now, but that also wasn’t entirely up to her, consciously. Smiles grinned, clasping his hands in front of him. Could he feel the growing static in the air?

“Oh now I can’t do that, can we? We just made nice.” Smiles watched her with a critical eye, staying put this time. Zippie couldn’t afford this. Not now.

“Jumpy, aren’t we?” He said with a tut. “Get back over here, I’m not finished with you.”

Zippie hardened her jaw, staying put. The faintest twitch of his eye, the way he held the balcony where she just was. That was… frustration. She could feel that in the air over her own fear.

He was bluffing.

“Now.”

“Shove it up your ass.” She spat, still not entirely sure, whether or not she was right. “If you know then you know you’re in trouble if you do shit anything to me.”

“Oh am I?”

“Are you?”

His face fell slightly. Zippie felt the tension melt off of her. She smirked, visible for the most part in the mask she chose for the evening.

“Would love to stick around, but it’s awful rude to leave my date for this long, ain’t it? Been a real displeasure finally meeting you in person, Mr. Smiles.” Zippie said, backing towards the stairs. “I think we both know what’ll happen next time, shithead.”

“If you’re so lucky.” He said, grimacing. Zippie snorted, relieved but still unsettled by the whole ordeal. He didn’t follow her until she was a handful of steps down. Near the top still, she made brief, far away eye contact with Bessba, who looked panicked at her temporary dance partner.

“You’re so hostile to someone you just met.” Smiles called huffily, distracting her. “I almost wonder if I’m standing in for someone.”

“Don’t go grasping for straws old man.” Zippie said, rolling her eyes, ignoring a small chill running down her spine. “I got enough vitriol to power Delhon twice over.”