#casual banter reveals my beloved

[lavenoon]

...then weirdly silly when they learn they've both just been in closer contact with their estranged brother. (And, uh, wait a second... Some of those stories they share are weirdly similar...)

All i can think about is Robin while talking to Dusk asks how their brother "Eclipse" is doing or asking Sun how "Horizon" is doing, mixing up the names to either of them but neither Dusk or Sun notice. They just happily talk about their brother and how he's doing.

Robin now sitting there going "well shit these three are related to each other" still somehow not realizing that Sun and Dusk are the same body and is just thinking it's one confusing family.

That would be such a dumb reveal because it's like "Oh I know your brother Sun! He's my neighbor. Why don't you visit him?" and Dusk is just a deer in headlights trying to process everything.

Have a nice day/night dear, Take Care!

: )

God okay the sheer hilarity re: this post

So Y/N does their little test, goes "Hm alright weird coincidence that I work with one and one lives with me, but I guess it's fine? Either I'm good at my job or they don't talk much either since they don't know I know the other. Oh well! (:" and then continues on their merry way

So during a mission, when Dusk shares another story...

"So then we - ugh, actually... It's been funny for a while I but I guess I should mention there's also -"

"Oh don't worry, I know about your other brother. He rents from me."

Robin is so entirely nonchalant by that point, having heard so much private information over the past few weeks that they don't mind sharing this much either, and Dusk bluescreens.

So not only does Robin know about Sun, but they also casually revealed their identity, and somehow still don't know about Dawn?

Takes a moment, but then also figures, that, well... Sun mentioned talking to the landlord more often and a lot about Eclipse, and given the situation, it probably was only a matter of time anyway. This might as well happen style.

"... Half the rent is coming from me."

Now it's on Robin to freeze.

"What?"

"Sun and I are one animatronic. Little bird, did you ever see me during the day? Or him during the night?"

Robin buffers for a moment, thinking. Comes up blank.

Hits him with the flat of their hand in indignation.

"Are you kidding me? You two have some sort of - of - are you literally Batman??? Wait. Wait. I never saw you at home either??"

"We live with you and can't drive, do we look like Batman to you? Apparently, the landlord missed me being mentioned due to being severely sleep deprived."

He spares a second to send them a withering (mock) glare.

"So I was supposed to introduce myself, but they always worked nights, and then it became more and more awkward. And it was just you, this entire time."

"Don't you fucking glare at me, Moon man. You were the one dragging out that mission so I couldn't catch any sleep before Sun came by!"

"I guess I can finally say this, please stop using my real name as a tease one day the wrong person is gonna hear and think we told each other from the start."

"As opposed to now being better? Wait." (Robin also is a little shit) "Your name is Moon man?"

"Try that again but with brain cells at work."

"This is gonna be great. Wait."

They think further, using those brain cells.

"What. What does Sun do for work. If you're the same animatronic."

Dusk now metaphorically sweats, because despite the rest of the reveal going over smoothly, this bit was intentional fuckery from his side and he has Regrets

"So, uh, what I originally intended to tell you earlier. I thought it'd be funny for you to find out on your own, but that kinda... Got away from me."

"I already hate everything about this."

"He does undercover missions as Dawn. That's how I get my intel."

Robin closes their eyes, taking a deep breath and mentally counting to ten.

It doesn't help.

"Get down here so I can strangle you!"

"Dove, I'd love to see you try, but can I also just process a little longer? Once I've accepted that Eclipse infected us with the need to reveal confidential information I'm all yours."

They take some time, maybe chilling on a roof somewhere, sitting down at some point and Robin kicks at his leg out of spite before sitting back and taking off their mask.

He's looking, now.

Neither of them are scared, because they also grew closer thanks to how much Dusk shared. They are friends, not just rivals, and no matter what they have that.

Sun gets a very casual reveal too - Moon simply tells him about last night's conversation during the next switch, Y/N already passed out in bed, so it's not a 2 vs 1 situation. Some teasing for sure, but also just amused reminiscing once Sun's shock wears off, and then a seamless transition into "We all know, and we're okay" <3

[hoboblaidd]

I’ve been listening to old banters to get the rhythm of how Solas talks, and I’m gonna word vomit a little on his relationships with the Inner Circle. Long rambling post so under a cut.

Solas and Cole’s interactions are wonderful. They��re speaking the same language, they don’t need clarifying questions to get what the other is talking about, and with Cole we actually see the wisdom (“Wisdom”??) part of Solas on full blast. And since they’re speaking this weird language, Solas is more Solas than he is with anyone else. I also love how he talks Cole down from a panic attack, it’s a little thing but so wonderful. A big question is does Cole know exactly who Solas was? Possibly debatable, but I like to think he does and just doesn’t see it as something that’s his to reveal like how he kept Blackwall’s secret. That’s why the Solas post-Inquisition mindwipe is both necessary from Solas’ perspective and so incredibly violating (and sort of retconned with Trespasser?? maybe proximity to a full power Solas took the edge off it, or it was only ever a stop gap, or the writers tried to water it down which would suck). Speaking of, no one reacts to the more minor mindwipe Solas does in the post-breakup banter with a romanced Lavellan. This random apostate mage just changes the channel on Cole’s empathic read and no one is like ‘hang the fuck on a minute, he just out-spirited a spirit.’ 

Aside from Cole, Solas and Varric are the friendliest of his interactions, but I like that it’s not all sunshine and roses. Solas has his (frequently racist) viewpoints that he dumps on Varric, but Varric pushes right back without ever becoming antagonistic. It’s a clash of two competing world views and the wisdom that comes with it, built on lived experiences. They’ve both been around the block and come out of it with different ideas, but they can talk about it as mature adults. Some (or all) of this is attributable to Varric’s charisma rather than Solas’. He’s friends with everyone (except maybe Sebastian lol). If anyone was gonna crack Solas’ cold veneer of disinterest, it’d be Varric.

My favorite interactions he has are with Bull and Vivienne. They’re wildly different in tone, but the foundation is similar - both Vivienne and Bull know he’s withholding something, and they dig on it until he deflects (sometimes well, sometimes less so). Solas recognizes Bull’s intelligence and skills at observation, which is nice for a guy who'll be casually racist to a Tal Vashoth inquisitor as a "compliment." They're kind of bros, as much as Solas can be a bro with someone. Plus, the chess game is my favorite thing in Inquisition. But Solas' banter with Vivienne is just the best. He’s soo bitchy and sarcastic, and neither of them back down from their opposing views. Even with a few moments of agreement, they are diametrically opposed and a ton of fun. They're also not at all wrong about each other - could it be that, gasp! both their world views are wrong?? But she clearly reminds him of the Evanuris, which is a nice insight. And as an aside, Solas with his hackles raised, or low approval, gives so much more away about his personality than you can just find in high approval or less antagonistic dialogue. I like the edge to it. I'm realizing my Solas is basically a low approval Solas who is occasionally nice, and I'm cool with it.

His interactions with Dorian are a slightly more one-sided antagonism on Solas’ part. Dorian means well and tries to reach across the aisle, and Solas generally shuts him down. Dorian’s viewpoint makes sense, but so does Solas’. Dorian is beloved and rightfully so, I love him more than I love Solas. But as much as he’s trying to do better, he’s still got a ways to go, and Solas never fully lets him off the hook. I do think Dorian gets there by the end of the game, at least in recognizing that he can't just help with one thing, he needs to go as big as he can until it kills him. And frankly Solas' expectations of him (free all the slaves elven and non in Tevinter) aren't entirely grounded in the reality of a mortal lifespan. But he still should act.

Something that isn’t talked about much is his relationship to Cassandra, which I really like. It’s built on mutual respect, and they both hold their ground on things without getting antagonistic. Cassandra’s occasional “the Maker would give you comfort” rankles me for personal reasons, but he takes it in stride and never dismisses her over it. It’s who she is and it comes from a place of earnestness instead of proselytizing. They’re not friendly, per se, but they don't have to be. It's the best kind of strictly business, coworker relationship you could ask for.

Solas’ relationship with Blackwall is also great, because it starts from a place like ‘two veterans walk into a bar’ sort of camaraderie and ends with ‘this person is a mirror of what i hate that i am’. Solas at least admits that his initial anger re: Blackwall’s lie was wrong, but I think he was more angry that Blackwall ended up being just like him rather than a better version of him. But also how tf did the god of lies etc. not clock Blackwall’s cagey ass before the reveal. Solas is so bad at his job (and yes I know the none of them were gods and all the labels are propaganda and mythologizing but that's less fun than shitting on the god of lies for being shit at lying).

His interactions with Sera are frustrating, but not for what they are, more for the lack of follow up. There’s something odd going on with Sera that seems more than his usual ‘are these elves real elves’ bullshit. But we don’t get anything more than the cryptic stuff he (and Cole) say to her, and some bits sprinkled into her story. Sera’s a frustrating character for me in general because it feels like the writers sort of forgot the seeds they were planting, or figured they’d save it for something that never happened. It might just be me, but I felt like I was waiting for another shoe to drop that never did. I’d like Veilguard to explore it, and maybe it will, but I’m not holding my breath. But, Solas also outlines the entire philosophy and practice of his rebellion when he’s talking to her which is awesome, especially leading into Veilguard where we might get more context.

Those are my deep thoughts. I want to do a deep dive word vomit on his relationship with each evanuris, but a lot of that will be speculation that's likely to be changed by Veilguard so we'll see. We know pretty much jack shit about his feelings on Sylaise and June (aside from my eternal soft spot for June after theshirallen's portrayal).

[rabid-reads]

My September Reads Ranked

I dnfd 2 books this month, so I only have a list of books I liked. I dnfd Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir and A Spiral of Need by Suzanne Wright. I thought both of these were going to be 5 star reads for me, but I was wrong.

1. Two Twisted Crowns by Rachel Gillig:  I loved this series with every fiber of my being. The characters we’ve had the pleasure of meeting in the first book, get together to find a missing magical artefact. In the process, Gillig blesses her readers with a tender romance and an abundance meaningful character arcs. The magic system is unique, the plot is crazy, and the writing is beautiful. It’s the best time, and the dialogue between the characters is addictive. The Shepard King series is hands down the best fantasy series I’ve read all year, and probably the best fantasy series I’ll ever read. I have the special editions (coming out this month) on preorder.

2. Half a Soul by Oliva Atwater: As a child, Dora has half her soul taken by a fairy. Both of her parents are dead, so she ends up with her bitch of an aunt and her pretty cool cousin. This takes place in the regency era in London. Dora’s pretty cool cousin is sent to London to find a husband and insists on Dora coming along, and there Dora meets a grumpy magician named Elias. Dora and Elias’s banter is a ton of fun, and their romance is endearing. The book is cozy and heartfelt. I loved it.

3. Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett: Another fantasy book I loved. Emily is an eccentric professor obsessed with the folk, and Wendell Bambleby is obsessed with Emily. Together they are giving the hot version of Mary and Dick from 3rd Rock from the Sun. They are too funny together and find themselves in the craziest predicaments, and I already read the second book too. I can’t wait to read the 3rd book in Feb. of next year.

4. Brother by Ania Ahlborn: Brother is about a serial killer family that lives in the Appalachian Mountains. This shit is crazy, and it goes from bad to worse. Yk right off the bat you're not getting a happy ending. The plot is revealed through the two main characters in a compelling way, and the narration goes from following our main protag to past recollections of another character that's bat shit insane. I loved that Ahlborn's writing has an almost casual tone bc it lets you feel the normalcy the main protag, Michael, feels. He doesn't fully realize he's in a totally insane situation. It's perfect to kick off the spooky season, especially if you like reading about super dysfunctional families.

The following are Ruby Dixon books. These are all books about a romance between a human and a big, buff blue alien. They have a ton of smut.

5. The Corsair’s Bed by Ruby Dixon

6. Barbarian’s Seduction Ruby Dixon

7. Barbarian’s Tease by Ruby Dixon

8. Barbarian’s Beloved by Ruby Dixon

9. Barbarian’s Treasure by Ruby Dixon

10. Enticed by The Corsair by Ruby Dixon

11. Monstrilio by Gerardo Samano Cordova: I liked this book, but the time jump in the second half was jarring and didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

I planned on reading House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski and Babel by R.F. Kuang in October, but I don’t feel like it. With House of Leaves I saw a lot of talk about how you read it mostly for the unique narrative, and I don’t think I’m in the head space rn to read something for that reason. Then I read a discourse about how Babel is mostly telling instead of showing, and that’s not my cup of tea. In retrospect, I think that’s the main reason I couldn’t stand Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin and Red Rising by Pierce Brown (despite their popularity). I’ll read both these books eventually and give them a go, but I’m not in the mood for them.

I ordered like 10 books, and I’ll see what I end up reading.

[generallypo]

in all sincerity, kim dokja makes me happy and he deserves to be so too :^(

incoherent yelling and sobbing under the cut. these fEELINGS will not be contained aaauuunnghhh. 

------

anyway i binge-read all 500+ chapters of ORV this week and i honest to god feel bad for this -- completely! fictional! aghhhh -- guy. in case you haven’t figured it out, the following is some spoilerly shit

i went in expecting a fun, brainless power trip fantasy for dudes with an isekai addiction. instead, it turns out ORV is actually a gigantic, self-deprecating prank on the entire genre itself. kdj plays more into the sad -- if high-functioning-- clown trope than the sexy, edgy, chuuni bastard type i was prepared to laugh at. there were -- gasp! -- female characters with personalities! parents (aka ADULTS who act like ADULTS) who actually survive and feature prominently! adorable children! a real sexy, edgy bastard! a power trio with amazing fashion! sexual tension and bickering! friendship! life and death bonding! 

*breathes in deeply* fouND FAMILYYYYYYY.

like, yeah, the plot around the first few arcs seems a little aimless, but the buildup is worth. the world-building is pretty decent. there’s discernible effort put into the fight scenes, and i can appreciate that. but -- but! what i stayed for were the characters -- namely, the fantastic OT3 of KDJ, HSY, and YJH -- who come together despite their initial rivalries and end up saving each other’s asses, like, every other day. granted, the other characters don’t get as much focus, and they do fall into certain character tropes.. 

but a trope done well is nothing i would gripe about. every significant character in ORV has a coherent, and more importantly, respectful take on their respective trope. maybe it’s because sing-shong is actually a married couple, but all the interactions between even minor characters are a convincing blend of awkward rambling, suggestive humor, sharp remarks, and casual banter. in other words, this cast of mostly working adults (plus a teen and two kids) talks like working adults. the relationships built throughout the story are, frankly, some of most realistic of its genre. sing-shong has managed to craft a dynamic that undoubtedly brims with fluffy fondness all around, but also drips with sarcastic tension, with unspoken urgency, with a wariness that softens into sincerity over the course of many, many chapters. it’s the kind of progression that makes even stock characters read like more than just the 2-bit villain or comrade or love interest. here, we have relationships both straightforward and not, strained or otherwise, romantically-oriented as well as decidedly the opposite -- and then numerous others scattered along the spectrum with the freedom to shift either way. 

it’s also an interesting point of note that our MC kdj actually does not end up with a stated romantic partner, much less a conventional heteroromantic harem. he gets teased about that fact from time to time, but it’s with less of the sleazy shonen locker room humor one would expect and more of the good-natured ribbing you’d find among friends or that one especially nosy auntie at the yearly family reunion. kdj is a grown ass man. in the background, i applaud his maturity, and he handles all the prodding like a champ. 

so instead of finding and fulfilling his horny, he builds himself a wealth of loving family. yeah, there are beautiful men and women around him. yeah, they unequivocally adore him. but they’re also adults, and they have priorities, too -- which are not so much finding a way to bang kdj’s brains out and more so simply keeping the damn guy alive. this is truly not ‘oblivious mc with his thirsty, sex kitten harem’. it just so happens that a guy proves himself to be unflinchingly gentle and capable in an apocalyptic setting despite his broken self-esteem, and lots of people find that attractive, romantically and platonically. 

it.. kinda makes sense? he’s a hard worker, thoughtful, and good with kids. kdj is the kind of guy you know would make a reliable partner, and anybody with eyes can plainly see and appreciate that. 

and it’s not that our MC’s a total brick wall. in fact, it’s likely the opposite, and he’s just too darned repressed to admit it. from what has been implied, kdj does indeed recognize and accept love, or at least a primitive concept of it. i like to imagine that the kind of love that he ends up seeking out simply manifests itself more easily as acceptance and safety, as warmth and a home of people to return to every day. even better, the people who surround him know this, and they give him exactly that. it’s refreshing, and honestly, really sweet.

(as a side note, i really, really do appreciate the cosmic bi energy radiating off of kdj, who canonically earns the title of being loved by all and is all but in name married to yjh and hsy. he also respects women and small children and honestly anyone who isn’t total scum to him or his family. i respect that.)

but the happy stuff aside, you know it it just ain’t ORV without the generous screaming dollop of angst. admittedly, there’s self-sacrifice, injury, lonesome wandering, more sacrifice, some epic fighting, reunion and confrontation. all of it is a lot to digest, sure, but never does it feel entirely hopeless, or truly, truly heart-clenching. ORV, up until the final act, is a mostly light read. you relax in your chair, thinking that nothing beyond this point can disturb you. 

yeah fucking right.

------

and then the beginning of the end arrives. when the squad finally break through to their ‘ending’, the scene that kind of breaks me is the reveal of the Most Ancient Dream. it ties so much thematically into the little tidbits that we get of kdj’s past, and it though it feels like almost a joke that the source of the goddamn apocalypse is a kid with bruises smeared across his skinny ass body -- it’s such a pathetic picture that it’s kinda poetic, actually. you’re left mystified but somewhat convinced, like a math problem explained halfway through. this.. child.. is a villain somehow, isn’t he?

and then 999th turn uriel speaks up, and she. just. hugs him. 

[[You are this universe’s most powerless existence, aren’t you.]] 

that. that gets me. kdj’s reaction immediately upon this revelation? absolute murder. seeing him essentially self-destruct upon realizing that all these people he’s surrounded himself with -- some who continuously proclaim their loyalty and affection for him throughout their journey, some who suffered eons of war and loss and trauma because of his existence -- not only forgive his younger self but smother him with unconditional acceptance and love is stifling, is too vulnerable and exposed and he simply can’t cope -- it’s so telling of his true mentality, of his crippling insecurity and crumpled sense of self-worth. kim dokja is a liar, through and through, so much that he fails, or perhaps refuses, to comprehend the veracity of others’ kindness and love towards himself. 

by some miracle, the events at the end of the world somehow resolve.. or so it seems. there is a departing train, a liberated team of ex-gods, and a child rousing from his slumber. in the aftermath, i am left shaking. somehow, despite the ending having been (happily?) reached, there’s still another chapter ahead. what is this witchcraft?

------

and then ah, yes -- the epilogue arc. i teetered on the edge of being critical for a little bit there -- is that display of deus ex machina, of sad, self-sacrificing nobility a bit too egregious to be acceptable? is this some wild last let-me-yank-this-outta-my-ass plot twist to drag out the chapter count? i sincerely thought that the arc before it would have been the finale. i was wrong. thank god.

anyways, as an answer to the above: no, and no. i stake my firm claim on the belief that the epilogue arc was meticulously planned out well in advance of its release, confusing and time-warpy as it is. i liked it. tremendously. even if it entirely invalidates all of kdj’s supposed development (”haha lol yeah sure i won’t sacrifice myself or anything anymore guys don’t worry about me” -- KDJ, at some point because he’s a lying rat bastard). actually, our beloved MC disappears for a large chunk of this arc, and i think it’s great. in his absence, the other characters not only go absolutely fucking nuts, but they have to figure out this new problem on their own, even if the lure of peaceful complacency in the newly saved Korea might convince them otherwise. 

and then the whole time paradox thing comes around. yjh goes to space, hsy saves the only life she can, and kdj grows up. the crew waits, holding onto their hope even if it bleeds them dry. sing-shong does a damn good job of illustrating their fraying calm, their lurking madness, the unseen but pervasive depression that seeps in from kdj’s absence. the kids lose their father, lhs and jhw lose their reliable leader figure, ysa loses a best friend and confidant, lsk -- as distant as she pretends to be from her son -- loses her only child. and then there’s hsy and yjh , who are essentially bereft of the other half of their existences. their pain is palpable, is grounded in the hopeless, gnawing frustration of an utterly meaningless victory. emotionally, ORV hits all the right -- if agonizing -- beats.

however, a story can’t sustain itself just through its pathos. i’m happy to say that ORV doesn’t drop the ball after the first milestone, and after all the hurt, the characters do leap straight back into action. even better, the plot holes actually do get patches, and the poetic cycle of writer, protagonist, and reader comes full circle by making use of all those supposedly throwaway characters from the myriad world lines. 

at the end of the road, there is a distinct sense of unity, of a delicate but undeniable cohesion to the world lines and their origins. sing-shong lets us guess a little here at the finish, but there’s just enough information to feel hopeful. maybe there never had been a definite start -- or finish -- to the story of kdj company, and... that’s okay. everybody ends up where they were meant to be, where they fought and struggled to reach. it’s.. almost like a happily ever after, if we’re allowed to dream of that.

------

now, i realize, this was all an orchestrated maneuver.

i’ll take it.

to me, all of this work sounds like someone put some serious thought into this behemoth of a plot. it cements the entire original premise of the story. it suggests -- but never explicitly confirms! -- the possibility that breaking free of the cycle is possible through the exact same system that sustains it. it’s terribly interesting -- and inspirational! with all the dramatic revelations and life-threatening scenarios  and the cast’s resigned acceptance of them that essentially make up ORV’s entire mood, there’s still that last hint of rebellious and righteous anger that lights up the whole damn nebula. it’s like the kdj company blasting away at the heavens just to yell into the nether: we’re not looking for the happy end, but the free one. stay alive.

it’s subtle, and yet it’s such an emotional gut punch. i came away with the most ruinous, frustrating, bittersweet sense of longing in ages. i pined. for these fictional darlings. god, i am weak.

so. yeah. ORV is pretty good. flawed, but ambitious and impressively thought out.  i’m stoked that the webtoon is making pretty good progress, even if it’ll take an eternity and a half to meet that monstrous chapter count. i’m still gonna follow it. hell yeah. 

------

(by the way the idea that secretive plotter and co are literally gonna take care of and raise baby kdj and spoil him and be the best friggin family a kid could ever want does things to me. protect him. he’s suffered too much. let at least one worldline’s version of him know happiness. and actually, aLL OF THEM DESERVE DOMESTIC BLISS TOGETHER IN A BIG OL MANSION WITH SUN AND FRESH AIR AND TENDER FAMILY MOMENTS UGH)

------

and there you have it, folks. you made it to the end. in the far, far distance, i’m cheering you on and crying my eyes out in gratitude. thanks for tuning in!

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out at Night *Chapter 8 Update*

Summary: Desdemona has a nightmare that sends her spiraling into the arms of her beloved mistresses but when she's turned away, she realizes that nightmare was a warning of what was to come. An unexpected family reunion finally makes Desdemona beg for death. A/N:  Thank you to everyone who stuck it out with this story this far; I know the last chapter wasn't too exciting but as I played the Resident Evil remake on my switch, I was inspired to drum up a little more excitement with this chapter and the next few chapters to come, which will be the last!

There’s a long, dark corridor that is accompanied by the acquainted sound of silence outside of Desdemona’s door and the darkness seeping into the room is becoming too much to bear. It feels like she is dreaming but these days, her nightmares and her reality have blended in so well together that it’s become nearly indistinguishable to tell apart what’s actually happening to what she could be imagining. It’s terrifying. She shouldn’t have become accustomed to what she’s gotten comfortable around lately, especially with everything that’s happened ever since she had been taken to Lady Alcina’s castle. Desdemona feels the familiar hunger for company creep up on her as she sits against the wall on her bed with her legs crossed, a journal and pen in hand. Loneliness was something she was used to, something she begged for when socializing drained her of her energy but now it was like a stranger to her. She no longer liked the idea of being alone in this gigantic castle that was made for its vampiric inhabitants and the monstrosities that lingered every which way. The connection she unintentionally formed with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela and was ultimately made stronger through their unusual ways of showing affection is suddenly severed and she can no longer sense them nearby. This was very troubling. Although she wasn’t feeling very well, a wave of nausea causing her to lose consciousness earlier, Desdemona summoned the strength to get out of bed. This desire to be around the wretched creatures that ruined her life both shocked and comforted her, the inner conflicting thoughts in her mind constantly pulling her in one direction over the other was exhausting but rationality had no place in House Dimitrescu. Her hands shook violently as she reached for the doorknob, her knees nearly going out when she dared to take a few cautious steps outside of her room. The grand designs of the castle were dulled by the strangeness of the dim lighting of every room. This was very unusual, what was going on? Beneath her, she could hear one of the sisters scream in agony while Lady Dimitrescu rages about the deaths of her daughters. No. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t be dead, she felt them nearby just a few minutes ago! How could this be possible? Panicking at the idea of losing her mistresses, Desdemona rushes down the polished stairwells of the castle. She can’t sense them, hear them, or feel them through their bond and her heart aches at the idea of having to go on without them. When she finally reaches the ground level, she finds Alcina looming over the corpse of an unknown intruder. Desdemona has always been afraid of Lady Dimitrescu, but for some unknown reason, she felt compelled to comfort her despite not knowing what was going on. She carefully approaches the statuesque woman and gently tugs at her sleeve, and when Alcina turns around and looks down at Desdemona, she gives out a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s you darling! This night has been dreadful, and I’m not certain at how you’ll take the news but let me assure you that I am so glad to see that at least you weren’t harmed in all of this. Let me show you who was responsible for the deaths of my daughters; together, you and I shall take vengeance against the human organization that was responsible for this.” Alcina declares as she wraps an arm around Desdemona, pulling her closer before turning her around to examine the corpse at their feet. Desdemona’s jaw drops at the sight of her own body laying on the floor nearly intact. Her skin was nearly flawless, save for the deep wounds inflicted upon her by Alcina. She lay there dead before her very eyes, her lifeless gray eyes reflecting a dark creature she could not recognize. Startled, Desdemona turns on her heel to find a mirror, and when she finds the nearest restroom, her hands grip the sink in front of her. She cannot recognize what she’s staring at but she knows it’s her reflection, just not what she expected at all. Instead of beautifully long flowing dark brown hair, she sees a matted mess of dark hair tangled in some sort of wild updo, cold, glowing yellow eyes and when she opens her mouth to scream at the sight, she coughs up blood. She goes into a brief coughing fit, and eventually she begins to throw up, but what comes out of her isn’t bile. Oh no, she threw up a sticky ball of insects and maggots glued to each other, the creatures clinging to each other in their frenzied movements. The sight alone is enough to wake Desdemona from her slumber. Desdemona wakes in a cold sweat, her heart hammering at the implications of what she’s become so she quickly examines herself. She runs to the nearest full body length mirror and she’s relieved that she sees herself in her nearly natural state. Bedraggled dark brown hair, terrified gray eyes and the occasional love bite and bruise left behind by the mistresses she’s bonded to. Her skin, while still tawny-brown, was starting to gray out but for the most part, she still seemed normal. What caught her attention in that moment, however, was the sound of Daniela’s laughter coming from downstairs in the dining room. Any logic and rational thought once again flees her mind as she’s comforted by the fact that her mistresses were still alive and well. That’s all that mattered to her and so she rushes out of her room to interrupt the important meeting that Bela had warned her not to interrupt. She didn’t care, she just needed to know that they were safe and sound. Without dressing up like she’s supposed to when she wanders around the castle unsupervised, she glides down the railing of the grand staircase as she follows the sound of a private conversation being had. Desdemona bursts into the living area, her heart rate picking up at the sight of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela all casually enjoying their special blend of blood wine with a guest she wasn’t familiar with. Bela is caught off guard at the sight of Desdemona waltzing into the meeting in a revealing nightgown but is even more thrown when the smaller girl practically lunges at her and wraps her arms around her. Cassandra looks a little miffed that Desdemona decided to greet her sister first but then she sees how quickly Bela is becoming agitated with the intrusion so she steps in and tries to peel Desdemona off of her. “Oh thank god you’re alright! I had the worst nightmare that you all were killed and there was nothing I could do about it -,” Desdemona begins but is quickly shushed when a hard slap to the face reminds her that they were not alone. “Desdemona, what the hell are you talking about? Of course we’re alright but what on earth are you doing here? I instructed you to stay in your room and mind your business, did I not?” Bela asks angrily as she shoves Desdemona away from her. Cassandra steadies her and throws her sister a knowing look, nodding off to the side as if to remind her that they were in the company of Donna Beneviento. Daniela merely looks amused and continues talking to Donna and Angie as if nothing unusual was happening. It was then that Desdemona realizes that they were indeed in the middle of an important conversation with the lord Bela wished to make a partner out of in either ousting Mother Miranda or finally bringing her a suitable host to revive her daughter. Desdemona looks ashamed and stares at her clenched fists, biting her tongue as Bela continues to give her a tongue lashing. “Look at you wandering around House Dimitrescu looking like a common whore without any dignity. I could have sworn my mother and I taught you better than this but nevertheless, you owe the lovely Donna Beneviento an apology. Once this meeting is over, we will go over what is distressing you. None of your concerns are more important than what is currently being discussed, I’m sorry to say.” Bela admonishes Desdemona before she turns to offer Donna a sincere apology. Donna, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in what Bela had to say as she observed the human standing quietly before her. It was a fascinating scene unfolding before her very eyes. “Oh ho ho, look at the poor girl, she’s ready to cry. What happened, Bela? Is she no longer your favorite?” Angie, the doll, said out loud as she giggled. “Lovers tend to have spats, but you wouldn’t know much about that, would you?” Bela growls, looking as though she were ready to strangle both the doll and the ventriloquist. Donna scoffs, shaking her head before settling on an equally irritating comment. “You mistreat your toys, they’re more than welcome to stay home with me and keep me company. I can promise you I’m more pleasant than your mistresses.” Donna replies quietly, her face hidden behind her veil but even Desdemona could hear the smugness in her tone. This time, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela pitch a fuss over the unnecessary comment and find themselves squabbling over a silly matter. Angie, the doll, is delighted and laughs maniacally when the sisters begin to fight with one another. Donna was clearly amused but said nothing as she continued to watch Desdemona fret over her actions in the background. Desdemona begins to shut out the banter as the remnants of her decaying mind makes its final stand in her mind. ‘Get out…while you still can…the opportunity won’t come again. They’re distracted, their mother is away…you can go home. Get help…please leave…please do it. For your sake, for Desmond’s sake, and for Veronica’s. Run away…while you still can.’ Desdemona blinks, her rational state of mind completely taking over for a moment before it slips into nothingness again. She turns to find the doll named, Angie, staring up at her while the ventriloquist responsible for the trickery, observes her from afar. Desdemona used to be frightened of dolls, especially of the porcelain collection her mother obtained from her grandmother but when she gives Angie a once-over, she finds that she isn’t crept out at all by the appearance of the doll but is comforted by both her and Donna’s presence. It was strange but with her life constantly taking a turn for the worse every other second of her life, she supposes she shouldn’t be surprised she’s taking a liking to the friends of her mistresses as well. “I apologize for the intrusion. I had a nightmare that I’ll eventually recover from, but I hope my childish antics didn’t embarrass you further, Bela. I’ll take my leave and I won’t bother you again.” Desdemona finally says almost robotically as she makes her way back to castle entrance. She’s ready to go back to her room when something terrifying happens. Her eardrums suddenly pop, an incessant buzzing sound following the sound of brief ringing. Desdemona cannot hear anyone or anything so when she looks up to see the mouths of Cassandra and Daniela moving as if they were speaking to her, she confirms the temporary loss of hearing. Panic grips her, her anxiety on the rise when the others notice the drastic change in behavior. She starts to scream when she feels her brain begin to throb in pain, as if a knife were slowly dividing her brain in half and it sends Desdemona running. She’s gripping her head as she runs into walls, end tables, statues, and portraits; nothing seems to stop her even though she has no idea where she’s going or how she’s even leading herself anywhere with the immense amount of pain she’s in. She still hears that incessant buzzing noise in her head and it’s driving her crazy. She can’t hear the girls call out to her in worry. The only thing that she can hear is the sound of something buzzing around inside of her. She remembers that Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra are not immune to the cold air during the winter and if this is the same bug that they seem to be made out of, maybe some fresh air will do her some good and kill whatever it is that’s inside of her. She thinks it’s a great idea; her mistresses, once they see her heading outside towards the gardens and vineyard, think otherwise. “Desdemona, no, don’t do this! Don’t go where we cannot follow, please!” Cassandra cries out to her, unable to go past the point of no return. The fresh, wintry cold air brings immediate relief to Desdemona as she pushes past the doors that led to Lady Dimitrescu’s enormous vineyard. Her ears pop again, the sound of the girls screaming for her to return to the castle can finally be heard and Desdemona feels good again. She chuckles to herself, thinking she overdramatized her pain but what she had just gone through was something she had never experienced prior. It was incredibly painful and there was no other way to describe it other than it felt like her brain was melting out of nowhere, the left and right side of her brain being divided by a painful knife. She thought she was going to die. When she glances up from where she had been doubled over in pain, she finds herself wishing that she did die from whatever kind of attack that was. Yes, she’s staring a Alcina’s glorious, infamous vineyard sprawled out beautifully before her and covered in snow but what she sees staring back at her from not so far away is an eerily familiar scarecrow. Desdemona hears that incessant buzzing noise in her head again as she slowly approaches the scarecrow, her breath growing heavy. Her eyes widen in complete shock when she recognizes the clothes that the scarecrow is wearing, but it isn’t just what it’s wearing that appalls Desdemona, it’s who it is. It was Desmond. They never told Desdemona what they did with his remains. Sure, they might have mentioned drinking his blood and devouring some of his flesh but that wasn’t the case at all. Here he was, skin stitched together and his beautiful curly hair clumped on top of what has to be his skull living in the afterlife as a scarecrow. They hollowed him out, dumping out his insides completely and disposing that mess in a way Desdemona no longer wanted to think about and turned him into this! Tears prickling in her eyes, a whole new fresh wave of pain consumes her entire being. She drops down to her knees again, feeling completely defeated as she takes in the immaculate detailing of how they put his flesh back together to make this monstrosity. The only thing that was missing was his eyes; otherwise, she was looking directly at her twin reincarnated. Her fingernails are beginning to frost over, the stinging cold making her feel as if she were dipped in a frozen pond and pulled back out again. None of that mattered to her. Her heart rate was beginning to slow down, the buzzing in her head growing more and more frantic but she can’t tear her eyes away from her dead twin. Her body can no longer tolerate the cold that it used to and the longer she stayed outside, she knew her body would begin to shut down. Maybe this was finally it for Desdemona, maybe this is the way she wanted to go out and reunite with her loved ones again. She just wanted it all to end because her life no longer mattered. She sees a rather large shadow approach her from behind and she knew that it was too good to be true. She was so close yet death would continue to evade her. She struggles to turn her head, the ice buildup on her skin making it difficult to do so and finds a very displeased Alcina Dimitrescu staring down at her. “Looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and speed up your transformation, little one. Miranda is eager to find out if you’ll do or not.” With that said, Alcina raises her hand and long, sharp claws begin to form. Desdemona closes her eyes as she braces herself for death and when she feels something sharp puncture her chest, she blacks out completely. 

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 8

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. (D&D AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Romantic Background Analogical

TWs: Swearing

–

“Oh I adore being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“You robbed the lair of the Dragon Witch! It’s literally your fault that we are mired in this bog of despair!”

Roman’s accusation rang loudly within the wagon as they made the long ride back to Amoresse to rest for the night. Janus rolled his serpentine eyes, 

“You, dear delusional knight, are totally not the one who went and killed said Dragon Witch, thus leaving her treasure for the taking.”, the half Yuan-Ti hissed, appropriately, “Besides, you can absolutely take the moral high ground here when you stole her crown at the first opportunity.”

The pristine elven knight gasped dramatically, clutching his figurative pearls at such an accusation! 

“This is an outrage-!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up or I’m driving this wagon off the nearest goddamn cliff!!”

Roman and Janus both immediately quietened down at the threat issued so casually by their wagon driver as the dhampir hissed curses under his breath. The two in the back glared at each other back and forth, avoiding looking towards the wrecked fabric of the canopy and the splintered wood. In Roman’s defense, he hadn’t known that grabbing the crown specifically would cause the Dragon Witch’s castle to fall to ruin around them. He’d realised his mistake almost immediately when he felt the dark magic radiating off of it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that was the case. Especially not around Janus, the damn snake wouldn’t let him live it down. 

Being careful to pick his moment, Roman hazarded a glance over at the reptilian rapscallion eyeing up his spoils; Janus was an enigmatic entity to Roman, showing such sophistication and poise while also being prone to stumbling over his words or his own two feet in the same breath. Unabashedly, he displayed selfishness unrivalled by even the most aristocratic nobility, but in a pinch, was fully able to toss aside even the most valuable of artifacts to save a life. 

Roman had tried not to think about it. The noble and chivalrous knight, Roman of Sandaria, being saved from the jaws of death by a conman who, by all accounts, he had fully expected to leave him to die. The elven man wasn’t sure where his resentment lay; perhaps Roman thought he should’ve been able to save himself, perhaps he felt guilty for misjudging Janus but couldn’t find it in him to admit it, or perhaps it was an underlying prejudice from his training days. Yeah, he really  didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, Roman made his way to sit up front next to the moody wagon driver, making light conversation,

“I should be the one manning the wagon, your highness.”

“Roman, I’ve told you before, you can just call me by my name.”, the dhampir met Roman with piercing silver eyes, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand my- Virgil,”, he corrected at the last second, “Nothing’s wrong. Aside from the fact you refuse to allow me to call you by your title-”

“That’s horseshit and you know it, Roman.”, Virgil kept his eyes on the road, anxious over the possibility of a crash if he kept his gaze averted too long, “I’ve known you since we were kids, I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, being called ‘your highness’ feels wrong as it is. Coming from you? It’s even fucking weirder than this whole marrying into royalty thing...”

Roman rolled his eyes but sat closer to offer Virgil a one-armed hug. The latter gave it a moment before accepting the gesture, “Virgil, you’ll be fine. If any one of us was suited to princedom, I cannot think of a better candidate. And your future husband is unreasonably attractive, so I don’t see what you have to complain about-”

“Oh my god, shut UP!”, Virgil chuckled and shoved Roman playfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong but the last thing I need is to think too hard about Logan and crash this stupid fucking shambles of a wagon!” 

The lighthearted banter did wonders to distract Roman until Virgil managed to get things back on track unfortunately, “Now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s got you so gloomy, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.”

Roman rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “I’m fine, Virge, really. I merely wish our cascading castle adventure had been a little less…ruinous.”

“.... Was that a fucking pun-”

“Ahem.”, Janus cleared his throat from behind the two of them, “I do so loathe to interrupt.... whatever this is,”, he gestured between the two of them, “But I believe that’s our stop up ahead. Wouldn’t want to go destroying that as well.”

With that, the serpentine rogue slunk back into the wagon. Roman muttered something under his breath, inaudible to Virgil, before reluctantly joining the scaled nuisance bagging up his wares. The elven knight made sure to keep his crown tucked into his rucksack, just in case thievery was something to be wary of in Amoresse. The town’s reputation, however, gave Roman hope that their visit would prove more helpful than hindering; the rumours told of a town renowned for helping wayward, lonely souls find their soulmates. As a single, disaster gay, Roman sure hoped the rumours were true. Truly he could think of nothing sadder than turning up alone to his best friend’s wedding.

Getting booked into their rooms at the tavern was a far easier ordeal than having to endure the overly chaotic gate guard to the city. The bizarre tiefling had spent so long rambling on and on about the most grotesque topics that by the time they had successfully secured a wagon bay, the moon now shone in all her celestial beauty. Virgil had suggested resting for the night, and despite Roman’s urging that they stay together, Janus had been insistent on checking out the nightlife. The knight had been content to let him do so while he guarded the prince, but the tired dhampir insisted he too take the night to enjoy himself. Roman would have argued further had Virgil not issued the suggestion as an order after his first protest.

And that was how Roman found himself sitting at a small outdoor bar tended by a rather friendly dwarf. Said dwarf, Patton as he came to learn, was quite the chatterbox while Roman was content to take in the night air in spite of his earlier worries. 

“Say kiddo,”, the dwarf broke from his pleasant rambling, “you’re looking a little lonely there. You got something on your mind?”

Roman hadn’t expected that. He pursed his lips in thought. 

“I suppose I may as well be honest with you. I’ve been wondering if-”

“If the rumours are true?”, Patton finished, “Well, luckily for you, they are!”

He ducked down behind the counter and pulled up an ornate crystal bottle that contained a marvellous prismatic liquid inside. Roman watched with great interest as the dwarf pulled out a goblet and began to mix a sweet, fruity smelling drink before dropping in three drops of the colourful elixir.

“Anima Venenum”, Patton informed him, “Our town’s alchemist created it by accident a couple of centuries back, and ever since, we offer some to tourists who look like they need a little guidance in the ol’ world of love!”

Roman was mesmerised, “Really? You mean, I needn’t pay you for it?”

“Nope! Our only rule is to never hand it out to anyone who doesn’t ask us for it. It’s up to you if you wanna accept this, so no pressure. I just figured you looked like you might be in need of it.”

The knight had so many questions swirling around in his brain, but by the time he had settled on a single one, his hand was holding the goblet to his lips. The taste was citrusy like sweet clementines, but with a mixed berry and almost floral taste that reminded him of a rose wine. As the last of it slid down his throat, Roman noted a soft honey-like taste as he thanked Patton, 

“That tastes wonderful! I’ve never had an elixir that tasted so good.”

Patton chuckled, “Actually, the elixir itself is tasteless. People just take better to it when it's mixed with a good drink, otherwise the texture weirds ‘em out.”

“Ah, I see.”, Roman let out a gentle chuckle. He didn’t feel all that different, truth be told, and so he asked, “How will I know it’s working?”

“The effects are instantaneous, don’t you worry! It might be hard to notice at first, but when you’re near your soulmate, your heart will feel really warm- In a good way! Not like heartburn, so don’t worry about it feeling unpleasant.”, Patton assured him.

Roman nodded, making a note of it as he got up to leave before quickly asking, “Oh! How long will it last?”

Patton waved him off, assuring him, “It’ll last for as long as you need to find your soulmate, guaranteed!”

With the night reaching its peak, Roman found himself strolling along the cobbled streets back to the tavern when he felt it; a flicker of warmth in his heart. Soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing but very much there. He followed the feeling until he came upon a narrow street, hardly lit by the lamps stationed at it’s opening. The street itself was largely empty bar a silhouette in the dark leaning against the stone bridge that arched over the shimmering water running beneath it. 

His heart raced as Roman approached the figure, the flames licking at his heart until he arrived about a foot from the entrance of the bridge. The figure turned to Roman, smirking a familiar smirk,

“Come to join me, oh loyal guardian of our beloved prince?”

Janus. His soulmate was Janus?! Roman couldn’t believe it, yet no matter how thoroughly he scanned the immediate area, not a single other soul revealed itself. The half Yuan-Ti raised a bemused eyebrow at Roman, “Please, do keep ignoring my question so you may continue to look like a fool.”

Roman scowled. Maybe the kindly dwarf was just teasing him? No, he didn’t seem the type. But this conman? His soulmate? Perhaps Roman would indulge it, see where that led him. Worth a shot anyway. 

“My apologies.”, was all Roman offered as he took a spot on the bridge next to Janus, the flames of his heart undeniably soaring to life at the close proximity. Janus gave Roman a puzzled glance which let Roman take in his features; a half scaled face and body that, the more he watched the moonlight dance along the scales, made Roman want to gently reach out and touch them. In fact, he had subconsciously been doing just that when Janus had held his wrist in place, “It’s not completely rude to just touch someone’s scales without permission. What’s gotten into that underbaked brain of yours, Roman?”

Flustered and embarrassed by his lack of tact, Roman uttered quietly, “Soulmate cocktail.”

“Pardon?”

Roman panicked, “So many cocktails. Is what I said. Like, 14 whole cocktails.” 

Great. Excellent save.

“..... You’re expecting me to believe that? Did you forget that I’m rather adept at being able to tell when someone’s lying to my face, Roman?”

End him. Just end him now. Roman wished a stray lightning bolt would smite him where he stood so he wouldn’t have to face his own stupidity. Quick, say something to help ease the situation.

“Okay. I had 16 cocktails.”, he stammered with a laugh, “I’m absolutely drunk. You got me, you clever reptile you!”

Roman of Sandaria you are a certified idiot. 

“.... Alright then. Prove it.”, Janus goaded him, locking onto Roman’s crimson eyes with his own citrine snake-like eyes. 

“Prove-?”

“Let me smell your breath.”, Janus clarified, getting closer. Each inch set Roman’s heart aflame all too literally. “If you’re as inebriated as you claim to be, your breath will absolutely stink.”

Shit.

“Uuuh, personal space-”, Roman began to move back, but Janus grasped the front of his tunic.

“Don’t give me that, Mister Personal-Space-Is-A-Societal-Construct, I’ve seen how often you get in your dear prince’s personal space...”, Roman could’ve sworn for a split second that Janus sounded resentful, or perhaps envious, before his tone took a more curious route, “... or perhaps could there be another reason you don’t want to be so close to me?”

The knight became aware of the burning within his chest threatening to rage out of control, the distance between them barely a couple of inches now. Roman wasn’t sure what to do, but the lure of Janus’ eyes and the way his ribcage radiated with a heat he’d never felt before spurred him to act; he leant forward and pressed his lips to the serpentine man before him.

It surprised Roman just how pleasant it felt, though he prepared himself for harsh retaliation from the half Yuan-Ti when he felt Janus take in a breath against his lips. However, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find that Janus, not only didn’t issue him a well-earned slap and spend the rest of the night cussing him out, but instead kissed him back even harder. Not that Roman was complaining. By the time they pulled back for air, Roman didn’t even notice the fire in his heart subsiding to be replaced with a more natural warmth as Janus’ hands softly caressed Roman’s cheeks. “I’ll be the first to admit, I totally saw the night heading that direction.”, Janus mused in surprise.

Roman let out a hearty chuckle, hardly even noticing that he’d subconsciously wrapped his arms around Janus.

“Care to tell me what brought this on, Roman of Sandaria?”

Just hearing his name spoken in such an enticing dulcet made his knees feel weak; how had Roman never noticed how beautiful Janus’ voice was? His mind was too busy latching onto every octave, every syllable, that he nearly forgot to answer him. He took Janus’ scaled hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle gesture his soulmate clearly wasn’t used to if the flustered way he averted his eyes was anything to go by,

“I suppose you could say I did a little soul searching.”

----

Have some straight up Roceit fluff, this came out so cute.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @lavender-mochi [I know you love your Roceit so I figured I’d tag you incase you needed this] @fandomsofrandom [I nearly missed the reblog where you asked to be added I’m so sorry]

[arcana-madness]

After Hours(N🍋S🍋F🍋W)

It was late at night, Nadia laid on the bed while she focused on a book that had been brought by Asra and Muriel. After returning from one of their travels, they passed by the palace and left a couple books plus materials, for both her and Stella to work and read upon. The book itself was a biography of some far way leaders, and while she was in the progress on making Vesuvia a better place, the information was good for future plans and valuable knowledge for herself. While she read, she also awaited for her beloved to return, the day had been a fruitful one and a well deserved rest was just perfect for both of them, after all leading a whole city was no easy task.

Nadia admitted that Stella was still learning how to be a leader, she had married non other than Countess of Vesuvia herself and of course along with marriage, came political responsibilities. Some days she would sneak off and just hide away from the same, while others she accepted the position and took her time to hear the people pleas. Not an easy position, but there wasn’t any books that could teach how to properly be a leader, so it was learning on the job and from the good and bad outcomes of the same.

Nadia’s thoughts came to a halt when the double doors of her chambers opened, revealing Stella coming in from what it looked a well refreshing bath. She still had her bathrobes on, curiously wondering why as she always made sure to have extra gowns on the bathroom, but paid little heed to that detail.

“Welcome back, my dear” Nadia spoke, as Stella beamed back, closing the door.

“Hello Nadi” Stella answered back casually “sorry i took a while, lost track of time at the baths” she said as she headed over to the blinds to change, plotting a little something she had been working for a while.

“Do not fret, I agree the day was a hectic one, so a well deserved break was of essence” Nadia responded back, getting back to her book while waiting for Stella to change.

Stella, on her free (and not so free), time had been working and doing some minor investigations over at the shop, some very specific investigations. The same was regarding some books she kept over there because she was afraid to move them much, they were withered and old and she wasn’t gonna risk it even with magic. Those specific books belonged to her aunt and they retraced back to a lot of knowledge concerning on what she was and her species overall, she taking her time to get back that information she had lost after being brought back to life. She shed at her robes and placed her plan to motion, eager to see what would Nadia’s reactions be.

After a while, Stella came out from behind blinds, gold collar adorning her neck and well placed cloths, transformed differently on what she usually was. Feathers adorned at her ears, markings more prominent and glowing as feathering was more obvious at certain places. Beside her usual blue Markings, gold ones as well were present, those being placed there with purpose. “Hey~” Stella chimed, flaring softly at her wings, seeing Nadia look and close her book with a soft thud.

When Nadia had looked up, was caught by surprise, wonder evident on her gaze “What’s this?” Nadia asked, curiously eyeing at her newer look. “I have not seen this before”

Stella waltzed over, one knee pressing at the edge of the bed as she watched Nadia closely “I have discovered it recently, so neither have I” Stella admitted, clawed hands touching at her ear feathers, softly smiling “and also is not the only thing that has changed” She said sitting down to softly sing, watching Nadia and gauging her reaction.

The song was soft, like a melodious bird song but definitely more alluring, Nadia hearing it intently while watching in rapt attention. Movements coordinated by themselves after a bit, Nadia shifting closer as eyes darkened, Stella mentally smiling at her actions. When Nadia was close enough, Stella stopped, a clawed hand caressing at her queen’s face, while Nadia snapped out of her previous trance, watching her with questions in mind but intrigued by the results. Had she been entranced by her? Because she was aware she wasn’t in the same place as initially.

“Aren’t you a little siren” Nadia voiced out, leaning against the hand caressing while her own joined it, hearing Stella softly laugh.

“Funny thing now that you mention that” Stella responded, leaning in to press lightly her forehead against Nadia’s own, starry pupils watching crimson ones “i actually half am, long story for another day thought, plans for tonight are different”

Nadia smiled, knowing well what was going through her head already with her mere sight “is that so, little bird?” The question was spoken, pulling at Stella’s hand to kiss it while noticing the smear of gold on her skin, eyebrow raised “this?”

Stella grinned “surprise” she said as she pressed her index finger against Nadia’s lip “i just wrapped the present, it’s your turn now to unwrap the rest” Stella teased, pulling at her finger and leaning in for the kiss, feeling Nadia smile and respond back with fervor.

Enough banter was given, hands finding purchase on each others skins while positions were shifted, Nadia pulling Stella deeper onto their shared bed and onto her, legs straddling her own. Stella’s hands cradled Nadia’s neck, the subtle height difference favoring her to a deeper kiss, while clawed fingers slightly tangled on the queen’s tyrian locks. Nadia, on the other hand, pulled and kept her feathered lover in place by grabbing at her ass, the soft grind of said action causing the kiss to falter on Stella’s side. Nadia further chastened her actions, one hand snaking upwards to tug at her dark locks, claiming her newly exposed neck, while wings went slack at the actions, giving in for Nadia’s administrations.

Kisses trailed along with loving bites, skin softer than usual under her lips, her now pliant lover pressing herself further against her for more physical contact. Hands shifted to grip under the crux of her knees to help the action, Stella’s arms now at her shoulder while a hand gripped at her long locks, clawed hand scratching at her scalp. Nadia teeth found on a soft spot and gained a whine as she abused the skin there without abandon, tasting something sweeter beside the salty tang she previously sampled. She pulled back, noticing the bruised skin while as well the smudge of gold, licking at her lips to give a further taste, her lover glancing at her with a breathless smirk on her face.

Honey with a pang of bitterness to it, perhaps chocolate, oh the little minx.

Stella stuck her forked tongue out at Nadia’s realization, leaning in to lick any residual paint from her lips. “Toyed a bit with the recipes from the masquerade ones” she mumbled, fingers parting at her queen’s robe, which was already haphazardly falling off her shoulders. “Theres more where that came from” a sultry tease, Stella reaching up at her own shoulder to undo part of her top, revealing more gold streaks adorning her pale skin along with her usual glowing blue marking.

A yelp and a shift and Stella ended on her back, pinned by Nadia, her face flushed and surprise evident, a smirk adorning her assailant face. She lost her bravado at her queen’s visage, lips parting as a gasp escaped through when Nadia flushed against her, kissing at her jawbone. “I’ll make sure to makes quick work of them, my love” Nadia breathed barely a whisper against her ear and Stella lost it, arching against her in need and a whimper escaping at her throat. Oh how She knew what buttons to press, making a mess of her small lover, a low chuckled rumbling in her chest at her reaction.

—

The position was uncomfortable for her wings but pleasure screamed more than discomfort by now, being ravaged hi and lo by her queen’s lips. Stella clawed at the bed, Nadia at the shrine between her legs singing praise while hands kept her in place by her thighs. Its been minutes or hours for all she knew, having lost track of time by the second go, now being denied that sweet release. First one was hard and fast, having been able to latch her claws at Nadia’s back and leaving obvious markings against flushed skin and muscles, a second one going without relief as punishment, while getting tied from above.

She praised the sturdiness of the fixture, as Nadia made her squirm while being tied and blindfolded, teased without remorse and chastised of her previous actions, the owl carved tip of the canopy holding strong . She had been kept knelt on the bed, tied with the rope that held the curtains of their bed and pulled taut enough to feel that strain on her arms, the blindfold with her own cloths being the cherry of the cake. She had been stroked and teased into submission, all but a blushing mess from head to toes in the throes of bliss. She was given her break after she had began to beg, Nadia having assaulted on her neck, chest and between legs with nimble fingers and lips.

Once again on her back and freed from her bounds, Nadia resumed her heavens work on her lover.

Nadia kept her on edge with her mouth, her lover’s mewls egging her on till her voice turned an octave higher, stopping all administrations and hearing her sob in frustration. Stella was so near, so close to that sweet released before she stalled it altogether, seeing her desperately trying to shift for more, strong grip keeping her down.

“F-uck—p-please...” a raspy plea between sobs, only wanting that sweet spiral down in ecstasy and being denied of it too many times. Stella gripped at the sheets and bed, feeling the coil in the pit of her stomach unfurl without relief.

Nadia pulled back from her position between her legs, licking at her lips and taking at her honeyed juices like sating an unquenchable thirst. Her eyes were full with mirth, watching Stella like prey and kissing softly back up, smiling “What’s that?” Her tone was deep, velvet, and intoxicating to hear when lust spoke, and the mere question had the one under her shivering.

“P-lease... please, my queen” Stella

begged again, arching at the kisses that trailed upwards by the once countess, ending at her lips on a breathtaking kiss. She could taste herself on her mouth, a whine escaping from between melded lips as she let her own tongue greedily lick at the other’s one, inciting for more.

After the kiss, a soft hand caressed at her face, trailing the markings along her sweat covered cheeks lovingly. “Alright my sweet songbird, you waited enough” Nadia’s voice softened, Stella all but leaning against the caress and kissing at her fingers.

Nadia gave a chaste kiss before retiring from bed for a quick minute, Stella taking this time to slightly shift to a more comfortable position, soon the Queen returning with one of their enchanted toys in hand, a grin on her face. The ceramic strap-on, in all honesty, was Nadia’s favorite, Stella having worked on the enchantment of the same when both got finally settled down from the rush after the masquerade. While Stella watched, Nadia worked on placing the toy, the same thrumming with magic from the enchantment it had.

Nadia leaned in into inviting arms, kissing Stella softly, while a hand worked between them to align herself at her entrance. She felt her stiffen and knew she was in place, gripping at her thigh with her now free hand and shifting it up, slowly plunging along the way in, both gasping at the feeling. The enchanted toy became an extension of Nadia, feeling every pulse and clench of her insides, drawing her deeper.

Initial push was slow and testing, but along the way quickly sped up, breathless gasps shared between the two. Stella worried at her lips, accidentally nicking it with her fangs while trying to subdue the noises that threatened to come out, but struggling so far. Nadia nuzzled at the crook of her neck, hearing her named whispered between breaths like mantra, riling Nadia further. She shifted them both on that last stretch, hoisting her smaller wife ankles to her shoulder, pushing even deeper still while the new position just cause Stella to let loose her voice, being like music to Nadia’s ears.

Stella’s moans reverberated in their closed space, gripping at the pillow where she laid, Nadia’s own voice joining in chorus with hers, coming out more desperate after each thrust. The coil deep within her build and build till finally broke loose, back arching and stiffening at her breaking point, a broken, sobbing moan slipping out without shame, finally feeling her resolve after being denied of the same for so long. She felt Nadia continue, overstimulating her before she as well reached her end goal, shuddering and riding her afterglow as she groaned and fell forward, being kept in place by her lover’s legs.

Both stayed still, trying to get the air back to their lungs, bodies glistening in a thin sheet of sweat. Stella’s markings were the only source of light at the moment, glowing dimly in the darkness of their bed.

“We Aren’t working today” Nadia mumbled, leaning her head against the still hoisted ankle, kissing softly at her foreleg before finally pulling out and letting Stella’s legs down.

“Agreed” Stella breathed out, moving just enough to ease at her wings by laying on her side, feeling exhausted eyes threatening to close on their own, not before noticing the shredded sheets and pillows. “Ill fix them in the morning” Stella mumbled, hearing Nadia chuckle.

Nadi watched her and smiled, taking off her strap before laying beside her, caressing at her face. She noticed Stella went fast asleep in seconds, and couldn’t hold the chuckle that escaped, kissing at her forehead before holding her hand. “I love you, my sweet beautiful songbird” she said watching her sleep before her own caught up with her.

————

Song that inspires this:

You could be the dealer, I could be the stash

You could be the fire, I could be the ash

I could be your first babe and you could be my last

And we gon make it last

You could be, you could be the dealer, I could be the stash

You could be the fire, I could be the ash

I could be your first babe and you could be my last

And we gon make it last

[Chorus]

Let me breathe you in like smoke

Would you let me watch you low?

And let me breathe you in like smoke

And would you let me watch you low?

[jcmorrigan]

Top ten KH3 moments?

***SPOILERS AHEAD! SPOILERS AHEAD! SPOILERS AHEAD! DON’T READ UNLESS YOU’VE EXPERIENCED THE WHOLE GAME OR YOU DON’T GIVE A DANG ABOUT SPOILERS!***

Confession: in trying to come up with my answer for this post, I came up with THIRTY. I’ll just put the ten here, but if anyone wants to ask about those other twenty, feel free :-D

10. The reveal of who Luxu really was the whole time. It tied together a lot of things that made sense and it set up EXACTLY THE CHARACTER IT NEEDED TO to take up the villain helm in place of Xehanort. I’m actually going to skirt saying this name, even though I warned for spoilers, because this reveal is just SO good. And a lot of the endgame made me feel sour and numb due to THE HORRIBLY TRAUMATIZING DEATH OF KAIRI, but this scene picked me almost all the way back up to normal again. 

9. When Xemnas assembles Demyx, Larxene, Marluxia, and Luxord at the Keyblade Graveyard and it’s NONSTOP BANTER. Larxene firing off the most hilarious insults at Demyx (a CEREAL BOWL), Demyx openly admitting that he’s not imposing on purpose, Larxene trying to get Marluxia to start another coup, Luxord listening in the whole time and not letting on until his name is called, Luxord fiddling with the cards and making gambling metaphors, Demyx playing his sitar the whole time…and let us not forget the line that embodies a Big Mood: “Ugh. Xemnas.”

8. When Sora reunited with Hades. It was less “MY MORTAL NEMESIS WHO MUST BE STOPPED” and more “Oh, my weird friend of opposing morality who I don’t really like but have to say hi to.” Their reactions to each other were so hilariously casual. Then Hades introduced the Titans in the most EPIC way…only to realize he sent Sora EXACTLY WHERE HE SHOULDN’T GO and deciding this was fine. Also, bonus points for Sora later calling him “the H-ster.”

7. When the Demon Tornado (my personal name for the GIANT CYCLONE OF SHADOW HEARTLESS; canon will probably prove this wrong later) is about to wipe out everyone, but Ephemer helps Sora summon ALL THE KEYBLADES OF THE DEAD WIELDERS OF THE KEYBLADE WAR IN ORDER TO PULVERIZE IT. There’s so much going on there: the epicness of using a hundred Keyblades at once, the beautifully victorious arrangement of “Dearly Beloved,” the shout-outs to the player names in the commands, and, perhaps most of all, the realization after the fact that these blades were all of people who died killing each other for petty reasons…and after death, their spirits realized it was time to set aside their differences and focus on not letting Xehanort win.

6. Battling Davy Jones and the Kraken at the same time. The Kraken is one of the two Disney boss battle fights I have wanted for a DECADE (the other was Randall Boggs; you had your chance and you BLEW IT). I actually was half-disappointed with the naval battle portion because I had imagined it should be melee, but then Davy Jones turned out to be the first true Disney villain boss fight that wasn’t transformed into a Heartless or somesuch, and I’d been thirsty for content of him since arriving in that world. But then it turned out THE KRAKEN WAS WAITING IN THE WINGS TO ASSIST HIM and I actually DID get to fight it melee and it was just the PERFECT way to close out PotC’s role in KH.

5. Fighting Ansem, Seeker of Darkness; Xemnas; and Young Xehanort at the same time. First of all, BEST BOSS THEME IN THE ENTIRE GAME. It was the perfect culmination of putting all the Xehanort themes into one piece that flowed and made sense. Second, the sheer epicness of this CONCEPT. Third, the coordinated triple attack they make where Young Xehanort freezes Sora, Xemnas shoots him with the vines, and Ansem lets the lasers fly.

4. Even and Demyx’s one interaction. While I still don’t think Vexen/Even is hero material, the one thing that made that redemption worth it was this. Seeing these two diametrically opposing personalities, who you think would hate each other, play off each other perfectly. They’re just the right amount of annoyed with each other to be hilarious, and then there’s obviously some genuine respect passed between this odd couple. I will never be over how they have to shush each other in succession.

3. Ienzo’s intro to the plot, though this is kind of in two parts - I’m counting his initial reveal as Sora’s guide with his almost immediate return to help with tech stuff when Pence logs into the computer. Ienzo is just such a CINNAMON ROLL. He just wants friends now, he’s a total ambivert, he keeps slipping into jargon before realizing he’s the only one in the room who knows what he’s saying and reverting to layperson’s terms without being condescending, he flinches at sudden loud noises, he has a cute smile and a nervous laugh…oh. Oh, no. JCMorrigan has a crush.

2. When Vanitas is on the cusp of wrecking Sora on the Laughfloor…and Sulley intervenes by picking him up and YEETING HIM into a door. Oh, but not just that. Taking that door and THROWING IT INTO ANOTHER DOOR, THEN INTO ANOTHER DOOR, THEN INTO ANOTHER DOOR AND SHREDDING THAT ONE. I could NOT stop howling with laughter through this whole sequence. And about four hours later, it hit me that Vanitas could just Corridor out of wherever he got thrown, so Sulley basically did all that for nothing, AND NOW IT’S EVEN MORE HILARIOUS. BONUS POINTS STILL IF YOU THINK ABOUT THE KIDS’ ROOMS WHO EITHER HAD A DOOR FLUNG INTO THEM OR VANITAS HIMSELF. Also, can we appreciate how Sulley somehow knew after five minutes that Vanitas was THAT much worse than Randall that he’d need this treatment?

1. Randall Boggs hijacking the Monsters, Inc. factory. Randall is a legacy favorite villain of mine. He was a big part of my late childhood/young adolescence, and I was CRAZY over him. Over time, I’ve found he still holds up. I could gush about how KHIII’s additions to his entire characterization pretty much renewed my love for him afresh, but let’s focus on his finest hour. Normally, the designated villain of a KH world just peaces out and waits for you to find them at the boss location. Randall, instead, turns the entire factory into death traps and TAUNTS HIS QUARRY OVER THE PA SYSTEM GLADOS-STYLE. Not only that, but he makes TERRIBLE puns (”This one’s got some spark in him!” during the electric fence, “I’ve decided to ramp up the difficulty” as Sora climbs an upward-headed conveyor) and he easily slides from Large and in Charge (”Enjoy what’s left of your miserable little lives!”) to realizing he’s getting humiliated and trying to cover (”You get one freebie, but that’s it.”). KHIII did Randall so good I can’t even.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Alright, finally I'm sitting down to make my noted summary, I had many many thoughts like holy shit this was wow, and this is a big time too so buckle up fuckers:

‌Again, very timely considering I was just back from a wedding.

‌"What are the terms of the agreement?" Damn, now I feel like a new Apple app... or Satan.

‌"Darling, when have you known me to appear awkward when schmoozing with strangers? They don't call me silver-tongued for nothing." Loki, baby, honey... I watched Thor 1, you were the most awkward person, even with people you did know.

‌Seriously tho, this matches my headcanon about Loki's ambivert nature: he loves the spotlight and socializing, but he gets really conscious when he feels the attention is negative, or he feels compared to Thor (or worse, in his shadow).

‌Loki chuckled. "As if you could force me to do anything." Yeah, I don't need to, asking does it you softie.

‌Wait, wait wait! WHY THE WINDOW SEAT?!?! The aisle seat is clearly the superior seat! You're not trapped. Wait, does that mean Loki got stuck in the middle seat? Lol get fucked.

‌I love how all of us loved the fact that Loki is D. B. Cooper and some of us hc that he would love telling that story to the reader, even I wrote stuff with that.

‌Ah, shared bed trope, my beloved

‌I love how Loki volunteers to do all of these things so willingly. And how he is a charmer social butterfly when he doesn't feel pressured.

‌PLAYFUL LOKI PLAYFUL LOKI PLAY–

‌Vicious fluffy attack, hehe

‌Loki in pjs reminds me of Scott's one in Santa Clause but green and a L. O.

‌When Leah said wedding bonding time I panicked because my mind went straight to that and scene from White Chicks 😂

‌"Oh, of course not. I'm having a wonderful time. It's quite entertaining to see you so far out of your element." ...bitch.

‌"You scorn frivolity. Always straight down to business."... To defeat... The huns.

‌"I can let loose and have fun like anyone else. Just watch me." Me, who has not relaxed in months.

‌"Oh come on! I see the way he looks at you!" THE YOU DON'T SEE HOW HE LOOKS AT YOU TROPE AAAAAAAAAAHHHH

‌Vicky went on a tangent about her ex boyfriend cheating on her, I'll drink to that bro cheers.

‌Damn, peak my interest about pedicures, huh

‌You're in trouble. This should be fun.

‌I love the internalized denial of the reader, mood.

‌"You've only managed to prove that I'm a food snob." MOOOOOD

‌"Oh? Then perhaps we should move on to discuss the inevitable tantrum you'd throw should the musician play anything from a decade earlier than the 1990s..." QUEEN, THE BEATLES, JAZZ IN GENERAL?!?! Although if I hear a single Narcocorrido in my wedding I swear I'd deck someone.

‌"Is that explicit permission to do it once you've eaten, then?" No Yes

‌CHEER UP TICKLES CHEER UP TICKLES

‌I love the growing comfortable between them each night

‌THE MUTUAL OUTFIT REVEAL AND LOVE BOMB FINALLY EXPLODING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

‌Damn, the yearn hit hard because I've been dealing with that since Saturday.

‌CASUAL INNOCENT TICKLES "I couldn't resist" I- I'M DYING HERE

‌Loki you simp (jk)

‌Best friends judge other together YASSS

‌The pain from looking at their first wedding dance, I felt that both literally like a day earlier and every time I read this. GOD. ON FUCKING POINT.

‌DANCING TOGETHER IS A LITERAL DREAM! GOD I AM SO JEALOUS, I HATE EVERYTHING.

‌The banter will seriously be the end of me.

More cheer-up tickles?!?! Jessa, you spoil us.

THE KISSING WAS SO WELL WRITTEN I- SHAFKJFSDKJ

“I’m not saying you have to, of course… I fully understand your stance on… romantic relationships… but I thought, perhaps-”. BOUNDARIES RESPECTING KING, I STAN.

O O F, I related deeply to the anxiety attack about relationships. Not for the same reasons but damn.

The power breakdown was really well-written too, mixing the anxiety to the supernatural reaction, I hope we get to see powered-up readers more often, monkey brain demands revenge hehehehehe.

Gosh the ending is so sweet!!!

This fic as a whole was just a masterpiece, and I've had a lot of fun reading this and the other 99. I'm super thankful that Jessa shares her talent with us, and I'm so hyped to see what comes next (in it's own time, I'm not trying to add pressure).

To Have and to Hold

Word count: 19,200

Pairing: Loki x f!reader (pre-dating)

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendos/humor (but SFW), drinking of alcohol (no drunkenness), kissing, the old 'there's only one bed' trope, marriage (but not reader's), Jessa's attempt at writing in original characters

Here it is - my 100th fic posted! It's hard to believe I've posted that many 😅 Thank you all for continuing to read my ramblings and for enjoying my work!

The plot for this was inspired by real-life recent events (although the specifics are all fictional.) I'm sure many people have had a friend who became a bit... challenging while planning a wedding. I wondered how such a scenario might work if Loki were to have to come as the wedding date 😉 When I started writing it, I decided I wanted to write in a reader with enhanced abilities for a change, and I sort of got carried away from there...

I hope you enjoy! It was a lot of fun to write 💚

As an Avenger, you'd fought against a host of villainous creatures. But of all the monsters you’d faced, the 'Bridezilla' was truly the most fearful you'd encountered thus far.

It had taken up residence in your best friend’s body like a parasite, feeding off her emotions and stress and growing stronger with each passing day. There was no defeating this monster - defeat would surely mean a lost friendship. Fortunately, the Bridezilla’s days were numbered. You just had to survive it’s fury for the next two weeks.

And then came the phone call that put you directly in the center of the Bridezilla’s target.

"Don't be mad, but... I can't come to the wedding with you anymore."

"... What do you mean?"

"I got assigned to go to a work conference that week. I tried to get out of it, but the boss isn't hearing it."

Your heart sank. Derek was your only guy friend that you felt comfortable taking as a date to weddings. There was absolutely no pressure with him, no worry that you might get caught up in the romance of the evening. Mostly because he wasn't interested in women. But, also, because he'd been one of your best friends since you were kids.

"I'm so, so sorry. I know this was important to you-"

"No, Derek, it's ok! I'll just go by myself, its not like I don't know anyone there. You can't make your boss mad again..."

"Don't remind me." He laughed on the other end of the phone, and you smiled despite yourself. "We'll get together soon, though, ok?"

"Ok. I'll hold you to it."

You sighed heavily as you hung up the phone, letting your head flop back against your mattress in exasperation. The wedding was only two weeks away; you'd already RSVP'd for two, and you just knew your friend was going to freak out when you told her you were going alone. You loved her dearly, honestly, but over the last couple of months a monster had emerged from deep within her.

Allowing yourself a moment of peace, you finally picked your phone back up and dialed your friend's number, ready to get this painful conversation over with.

"What?? No. No, you can't," she stammered into the phone. You could envision her running her fingers through her hair in a frenzied panic. "You RSVP'd for TWO people. If you go alone, there will be an EMPTY chair. I can-NOT have an empty chair at the BRIDAL PARTY TABLE!"

"I'm sorry, Leah! I'm not going to make Derek get in trouble with his boss. What am I supposed to do?"

"Find. Someone. Else."

You laughed humorlessly. "Someone else? Leah, have you met me? I don't exactly have a whole list of guys to go down that might come to a wedding with me in the Bahamas."

"Then bring a woman."

"Not the point."

Leah huffed into the phone. "Look - I don't care who it is, but you have to bring someone. Bring another friend, bring a coworker, a family member... whatever. But there will NOT be an empty chair at my bridal party table!"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. Part of you was desperate for this wedding to be over - as happy as you were for Leah, you just wanted your laid-back friend back.

"Alright. I'll ask around."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, suddenly flipping a switch and becoming her friendly self again. You had pacified the Bridezilla for now. "Can't wait to see you!"

"You too," you responded with feigned enthusiasm.

You'd thought that phone call would be the most difficult part of your day, but the real challenge was just beginning. Who could you convince to come with you to this destination wedding on two weeks' notice?

Before even considering approaching anyone, you sought out Wanda for advice that evening.

The connection between you and Wanda had developed almost instantly after you joined the Avengers. She was the only person who could truly understand your past experiences. Not that the others were insensitive. It was one thing to hear you speak about your traumatic past, but to have someone who had lived through it made your burden much easier to bear.

Before Wanda and her twin brother had volunteered for HYDRA's experiments, you had been selected as one of the civilian guinea pigs on whom they would test the powers of the scepter, and consequently, the mind stone. Most of the other civilians who were subjected to its power were killed in the process. You had lasted longer than most of them, enduring painful periods of exposure to the scepter but never for long enough for it to kill you as it had the other test subjects. They'd hoped that gradual increases in exposure might make you immune to the inevitable demise that met every subject that came before you.

During the final experiment, you were locked in the room with the scepter, cowering and awaiting your judgement. As it had with so many others, it unleashed a burst of power that knocked you to the floor. You were barely breathing, but somehow, you managed to survive. However, your vital signs were nearly undetectable.

HYDRA assumed you'd perish like the others and tossed you unceremoniously into an unlocked cell, awaiting your eventual death. Something sparked inside you, then - an innate survival instinct that triggered a sudden burst of power from within. You practically glowed with the energy radiating from your skin, a strength building that you'd never known before. As the radical energy surged inside you, so followed a powerful rage that flared beyond your control. Most of the events that followed were a blur in your mind as that blinding fury consumed you. You managed to escape the HYDRA facility without any assistance, striking down anyone who dared get in your way. By the time you'd made it to safety, you collapsed from the sheer exhaustion of expending so much energy all at once.

When you awoke, you were on the Avengers helicarrier, lying on a stretcher within their med bay. You'd been unconscious for three days. Fortunately, they'd received intel that there was a superhuman being who'd managed to flee from HYDRA's captivity, and they'd come looking for you. Better to have you on the right side of good and evil, they'd decided.

And so, you joined the ranks of SHIELD and became an Avenger.

It was rare that you exerted the full extent of your powers. At baseline, you did have heightened senses and slightly enhanced strength, which made you a formidable opponent. On the few occasions you did let loose the full force of your abilities, you'd completely lost control. The first time, it had taken three Avengers to restrain you until you expended the swell of energy and collapsed. The next time, they were more prepared - injecting you with a tranquilizer intended for much larger beings and locking you away in a high security cell until the episode was over.

You'd been working closely with Wanda to try to gain control over your powers, and you'd made some progress thus far, but you were still too fearful to completely unleash the chaos inside of you intentionally. Even on Wanda, who had proven already that her powers were enough of a match for your own that she could defend herself while talking you down.

Naturally, she was the only person you felt comfortable talking to about some of the more personal issues that came along with your abilities. On the field, you were confident, unshakable, as long as you kept your cool. But during your down time, you just didn't know how to relax anymore. None of your friends outside of the Avengers knew about your enhanced abilities. You lived in constant fear that someone might find out about them; or, worse - that you might injure someone you cared about in one of your rage fits. Though Wanda thought you were too hard on yourself, she understood how you felt. You could go to her for consolation and advice, and she provided a calming presence to ease your worry.

Above all, you resolutely refused to get involved in a romantic relationship. There was far too much risk to anyone who chose to be your partner - if HYDRA ever came looking for you, they could easily capture someone you loved to use them against you. Or - just as you often worried about with your friends - you, yourself, could harm them mistakenly should your powers be set off accidentally. You'd decided it was best that you kept your head down and focused on your work.

"Who the hell am I going to get to come with me on a four-day trip to attend a wedding for a couple they don't even know??" you groaned, flopping melodramatically back against the sofa cushions. Wanda set a glass of wine out in front of you on the table wordlessly, and you sat back up with an appreciative half-smile.

"She really won't let you come without a date?" Wanda asked incredulously as she took her own seat beside you, setting her glass on the table.

"I mean, I doubt she'd bar me from coming to the wedding if I came alone, but I'd never hear the end of it..." You took a sip from your glass, closing your eyes as the acidic fruity flavor washed over your tongue. "And as crazy as she's been, she is still one of my best friends. I want her wedding to be everything she's dreamed it would be. Even if her demands are a bit..."

"Outrageous?" Wanda finished for you.

"I was going to say 'unorthodox,' but yeah, that about sums it up." You turned toward Wanda a bit more, fiddling with the rim of your glass absently. "You sure you can't just come as my date?"

"You know I would, but that charity event is the same night."

"Oh, that's right. Damn." You'd forgotten there would be a fundraiser that evening, hosted by none other than Tony Stark. Most of the team was going to be in attendance in an attempt to increase ticket sales to the general public, and the few that weren't attending needed to be on standby to save the world. 'Evil doesn't wait until it's convenient,' Steve would insist. "Ugh. That limits the pool of people available for me to ask even more."

"Sorry," Wanda lamented, placing a comforting hand on your knee. She pondered for a moment. "What about that new lab tech Bruce hired?"

"Larry? Hell no - he doesn't stop talking. EVER. I am NOT spending four days with him.”

"Right. Fair point." She took a sip of wine, then made an ah-ha noise in the back of her throat before swallowing it. "Oh! What about the senior SHIELD recruit? He's definitely had his eye on you."

"Kyle isn't my type."

"No one is your type."

"Yeah, but he's definitely not my type. He's incredibly condescending. I've seen him talking down to his trainees. He's a world-class jerk."

"Are you sure you aren't just making excuses because you don't want to date someone?" Wanda asked skeptically.

"No..." You sighed. "You know how I feel about dating. It would be irresponsible of me. But even if I did want to date someone, Kyle would not be that person."

"Well... there's always Loki." She flashed you a sly smirk. You felt your cheeks start to burn at the suggestion.

"Wanda! You know I can't ask him."

"Why not? You two are friends, you clearly like being around him... what would keep you from asking him to come with you?"

"I... Wanda, you know what the implications of that would be!"

"What, that your date backed out last minute and you need a friend to fill in to prevent Bridezilla from biting your head off?" Her smirk only grew as your mouth opened and closed, helplessly at a loss for words. "Seems to me it would be the perfect solution to your problem."

"What if he gets the wrong idea?"

"What, that you like him?"

"Yes. That."

Wanda placed her hand on yours where it rested on the sofa. "You're allowed to be happy, you know. I wish you'd stop punishing yourself."

"I'm not punishing myself. I'm being practical."

"Ok. Let's take it from a practical standpoint, then. Loki is from Asgard, he's a god with magic powers. If your concern is hurting him, I don't think you need to be too worried about it."

She had a point. His powers were likely at least an even match for yours, though you were afraid to test that theory. But that was only part of what was truly holding you back.

You did like Loki. A lot. Too much, actually. He was a good friend, one of the few others in the tower who had an inkling of an understanding of what you'd gone through. He, too, had experienced the effects of the mind stone, and the control it had exerted over him had turned him into a monster. In some sense, it had done the same to you - just not quite as obviously as it did for him.

But that wasn't the reason you'd developed feelings for him. He was witty, sarcastic, knowledgeable... He wore a regal confidence that was extremely attractive to you, but without the condescending nature that you hated in people like Kyle the SHIELD recruit. And he made you laugh - gods he made you laugh. Even when you didn't want to, he managed to find a way to draw a bit of laughter from you, and instantaneously you'd feel so much better.

Allowing yourself to fall in love with Loki would only give you something to lose. Something that could be used against you if an enemy decided you deserved it. And worse - it would give him something to lose if anything ever happened to you. You couldn't let yourself fall completely for him, because the fear of losing him or hurting him had a choke hold on you. So, you'd convinced yourself that falling in love would only be an unnecessary distraction from your work. Loki could be a friend, and nothing more.

"Why don't you just explain to him what happened? Then he'll know this isn't intended to be a 'date' in the romantic sense," Wanda suggested.

"Well... he does owe me a pretty big favor."

"Perfect. Tell him you're cashing in."

"Ugh... fine. But only because I can't think of anyone else who will be free that I'd be able to tolerate for four days." You propped your feet up on the table in front of you and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. Right now, I need to finish this glass of wine and talk about how I regret my life choices."

"Cheers to that," Wanda laughed, clinking her glass against yours.

You changed the subject after that, asking about how Wanda's relationship with Vision had been going. Still, the thought of asking Loki to go to this wedding was stuck in the forefront of your mind. It was a huge ask - being in your friend's bridal party, you had a number of extra responsibilities over the course of the few days you'd be spending in the Bahamas, and inevitably he'd have to do a lot of socializing. Not to mention, you couldn't imagine a Frost Giant would be overly keen on the tropics. Not that the subject had ever come up in conversation.

By the next morning, you'd nearly psyched yourself out of asking him. You couldn't possibly subject him to such a torturous experience just so you would have someone to fill the empty seat at your table.

Unfortunately, Wanda had picked up on your reluctance. The moment Loki entered the kitchen where the two of you were having coffee, she spoke up before you could even say 'good morning.'

"Oh, perfect timing! I'll leave you two alone so you can talk to Loki," Wanda exclaimed, leaping to her feet. You shot her a glare as she grinned at you before turning and walking out of the room, brushing past a rather confused-looking God of Mischief.

"Talk to me about what?" he asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You took a breath, putting on your tough façade to hide the nervousness.

"You remember that time that I let you tag along on my mission to Mexico, just so you could escape your brother when he was going through that sappy romance movie phase of his?"

Loki winced at the memory. "Yes, I remember it rather clearly."

"You remember you said you owed me one?"

"Yes...?"

"I'm cashing in."

Loki wore an expression of curious skepticism, crossing the room to sit down in the chair that Wanda had so swiftly vacated upon his arrival. "I'm listening."

"Yesterday, I got a call from my friend telling me he could no longer come to the wedding I'm going to in a couple weeks." You paused for a breath, and Loki's eyebrows shot up as he tilted his head, urging you silently to continue. "So I called my friend who's getting married, and she freaked out about having an empty chair at the bridal party table."

At this point, you assumed Loki would have figured out where you were going with this. If he did, he showed no sign of it.

"Go on," he prompted.

"Ok... that leads me to my request. I'm asking if you would be willing to take his place."

Loki was silent for a moment. He didn't appear disgusted, at least, but he didn't exactly seem overly thrilled about the prospect either.

"What are the terms of the agreement?" he asked finally.

"Well... you'd come with me to the Bahamas for the wedding, attend the rehearsal dinner and the wedding with me... try your hardest not to make fun of the wedding festivities in front of the bride... that's about it, I think. You'd get a free three-night stay in a fancy hotel, if that's any consolation."

"I see." Loki fell silent again, and the excuses began bubbling up in your throat, your stern façade dropping just as quickly as you'd turned it on.

"I'm, er, not saying you have to go. I know it's a big ask, and probably an unfair one at that... and you won't know anyone else there, so if you feel like it might be too awkward..."

"Darling, when have you known me to appear awkward when schmoozing with strangers?" A slight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "They don't call me silver-tongued for nothing."

"Alright, but still. I'm not forcing you to go. Just making that clear."

Loki chuckled. "As if you could force me to do anything."

"Hey! You've never been on the other end of one of my rage fits," you retorted, a grin overtaking your face. He was teasing you, which made this all feel much less uncomfortable. You were used to him teasing you. "I need an answer - if you say no, I've got to go ask Larry the chatterbox, and I'm really hoping to avoid that."

"Oh, dear. You should have led with that. Of course I'll go - I won't subject you to that dull lab rat."

You nearly leapt out of your chair, managing to rein in your excitement at the last moment and instead smile brightly at your companion. "Thank you so much! You've no idea how much this means to me!"

"Does this mean you owe me a debt now instead?" he asked with a smirk.

"Depends on how you perform as a wedding date," you teased, winking at him. With a shake of his head, he stood and headed over to the stove to heat some water for his tea - the real reason he'd walked into the kitchen in the first place, as he reminded you with feigned annoyance.

The two weeks that led up to the date of your departure were somewhat of a blur. You were grappling back and forth between the insuppressible elation of having Loki coming with you on this trip and the stubborn resolve that you weren't going to allow this to make you fall for him. By the time the pair of you were leaving for the airport two weeks later, you had convinced yourself you were more than capable of handling this situation without allowing your feelings to get the best of you.

You claimed the window seat the moment you boarded the plane, getting yourself settled as Loki dropped into the seat beside you.

"Have you ever flown on a commercial plane before?" you asked as he buckled his seatbelt across his lap.

"It's been a few decades, but yes, I did once."

"Really?" His answer surprised you. You'd always assumed he simply traveled by bifrost everywhere - what need did he have for Midgardian travel? "Where were you going?"

A slow smirk spread across his face, piquing your curiosity. "Nowhere in particular." You tilted your head in confusion, prompting him to continue. "Have you ever heard of the infamous D.B. Cooper?"

"I have... wait- no. No WAY were you... seriously??" Your jaw dropped open as Loki nodded, his self-assured smirk widening. "You devil!"

"Hehey, it wasn't my decision! I lost a bet to my dear brother," he insisted, chuckling as you shoved his shoulder playfully.

"Still! I can't believe that was you!"

"Why so surprised? I always have enjoyed a bit of mischief."

"Yes, but this is an unsolved American mystery! You've fooled an entire nation!"

"That's nothing."

Loki proceeded to tell you about his mischievous endeavors in his younger years as the plane took off and set course to your destination. You listened intently, laughing at his wild tales. This felt normal to you, this chatter and joking and laughter had always been a part of your friendship. It helped take your mind off the fact that you were about to spend the next four days in Loki's company, without allowing yourself to succumb to your feelings.

A thought that only became more blatantly obvious when the two of you finally made it into the hotel room you'd be staying in for the next three nights.

You cursed under your breath when your gaze landed on the solitary bed in the room. One bed. Of course. The room itself was nice, with beachy wicker-style furniture and sage green walls, all very tropical. A set of double doors on the far wall led out to a small patio area on the beach, and a single door on the wall to your left opened into the bathroom.

"I'll talk to the woman at the front desk," you mumbled, trying not to catch Loki's eye as you left your bag by the side of the bed unopened. "They must have a room with two beds."

"Alright." His response was nonchalant, noncommittal. Clearly he wasn't as mortified as you felt internally. Then again, he wasn't the one trying to suppress feelings for the other person sleeping in this room.

You ducked out of the room and made a quick stop at the check-in desk, where the concierge informed you that, unfortunately, all the rooms had been booked. Sighing defeatedly, you made your way back to the room, finding Loki already stretched out on top of the bed with a book in his hand. Frankly, you were too flustered to work out sleeping arrangements at the moment; fortunately, your friend had you on a tight schedule.

"The other rooms are all booked. We can figure this out later - I've got to get ready to meet up with the bridal party. There's a sort of 'meet and greet' gathering tonight." You busied yourself sifting through your suitcase in search of a suitable outfit for the evening, mostly so you had an excuse not to look at Loki. A soft thumping sound told you he'd shut his book, and a shifting of the mattress clued you into his movement. Risking a glance, you looked up to find Loki leaning over the edge of the bed, staring down at you inquisitively.

"Should I be planning to join you?"

Taken aback by his question, especially given how he'd asked without a shred of reluctance or irritation in his tone, you paused in your scrounging through your belongings.

"I wasn't planning to force you to come," you responded. "You're already doing enough by coming to the wedding with me, you don't have to feel obligated to attend every one of these pre-wedding events."

"Would your friend Derek have attended?"

"Well... probably, yeah, but-"

"Then it's settled. I will accompany you this evening."

"Are you sure? It's going to be a lot of... well, socializing."

Loki chuckled a little, a smirk pulling at his lips. "While I clearly don't enjoy 'socializing' with my brother and his exceedingly upbeat companions, I am partial to casual parties. I attended quite a number of them on Asgard."

"Oh, really?"

"Why the tone of surprise? I am a prince after all." His smirk grew wider. "I am an exemplary social companion. You should consider yourself lucky."

"Wow. I'm pretty sure I just saw your head grow three sizes larger!" you jested, rolling your eyes with a grin.

After a quick change of clothes, you found yourself on your way to the outdoor hotel bar with Loki at your side. Already, many of the member of the wedding party had arrived and were mingling with drinks in hand. The moment the bride caught sight of you, she hurried over to wrap you in a hug in greeting.

"I'm so happy to see you!!" she exclaimed, releasing you with a huge smile on her face. Her eyes flitted over to Loki for a moment, then widened as she glanced back to you. "And you brought a date!"

"Yes, this is Loki. He's a... friend from work," you explained, cringing inwardly at your awkwardness. Fortunately, Loki took over from there - holding out his hand to accept a handshake from Leah.

"A pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Oh? All good things, I hope!" Leah laughed.

"Oh, most certainly."

"Well, I look forward to hearing more about you - but I have to find my lovely fiancé... I know they're around somewhere." She grinned at you once more before scurrying off into the crowd.

"You liar - I barely talk about my friends outside of the Avengers," you whispered, trying to suppress an amused smile. Loki shrugged.

"I did tell you I've been said to have a silver tongue. That doesn't mean everything I say is true."

"Oh really? Well, how often are you lying to me, then, with that 'silver tongue' of yours?" you asked, half teasing but half genuinely curious.

"Now, what would I have to lie to you about?" He winked, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips that had your face feeling warm. "Would you care for a drink, darling?"

"Yes, please." You were more than ready to grab something from the bar, hopefully to cool the heat in your cheeks before Loki started to notice.

Loki was, surprisingly, quite the gentleman; he asked you what you planned to have to drink, then ordered it for you along with his own. Not that any Midgardian liquor would even come close to making him feel its effects, but he did enjoy the taste of a decent quality malt.

You couldn't recall the last time you'd spent more than five minutes at a social gathering that wasn't somehow related to a mission. To say you were feeling a bit rusty at the whole 'making conversation with semi-acquaintances, semi-strangers' thing was an understatement. And yet, Loki made it look so easy, so effortless to strike up conversation. Once you'd started to sip your drink and ease yourself into socializing, you began to become a bit more relaxed, feeding off Loki's social energy.

That is, until you were asked 'the question' for the first of many times.

"So... how did you two meet?"

"Huh?"

You'd only been half-paying attention, while the other half of your mind seemed to be fixated on the warm, rumbling sound of Loki laughing after one of the groomsmen finished telling a funny story. The maid of honor - Vicky, who had been Leah's childhood best friend and, consequently, a friend of yours as well - was staring at you expectantly. It took you a moment to register what she was really asking, but when realization struck, you began stammering almost incoherently.

"Oh, er, no, we're not together like that..." You motioned between yourself and Loki for emphasis. "We're... he's just..."

"What she means to say is, we met through work," Loki interjected, his voice much more cool and collected than your own. "She is one of SHIELD's strongest agents. Naturally, she spends quite a bit of time with the Avengers."

"We're friends," you added firmly, finally regaining the ability to string words together in a sentence.

"Aww, really? You two would be great together, you know," Vicky teased with a grin. The few others who had been involved in the conversation murmured in agreement. You struggled to come up with a response as your face caught fire, when Loki interjected to spare you yet again.

"She's very focused on her work," he explained, a hint of pride in the way he stated it. "Perhaps, someday, she will free up some time to find romance." He caught your eye out of the corner of his with his last sentence, shooting you a wink.

"Perhaps," you echoed, a finality to your tone that indicated you were finished with this discussion. Fortunately, Vicky took the hint, moving on to other small talk. But while the conversation progressed, your mind was still stuck on Loki's words. What did he mean by what he said? Was it more smooth talk from the silver-tongued god? Or was there a deeper meaning behind it?

No matter, you thought. Regardless of what he truly meant, you couldn't allow yourself to fall for him. Because that was more terrifying than anything he could have possibly intended with his words.

By the time you'd called it an evening and headed back to the room, you were socially drained and mentally exhausted. So much so, you'd forgotten about your sleeping arrangements predicament until you flipped the light on in the room, eyes landing immediately on the solitary bed. Apparently you groaned out loud, because Loki suddenly brushed past you and grabbed one of the pillows off the bed.

"I'll take the floor," he offered.

"What? No, I can't possibly make you sleep on the floor. You're only here because I asked you to be. I'll take the floor instead."

He shot you a stubborn glance. "I will not subject you to sleeping on the cold floor." Loki tossed the pillow in his hand onto the floor.

"Nope. Not happening." You swiped one of the other pillows off the bed and chucked it at him, striking him in the back of the head. He spun around to face you with a shocked expression on his face, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You dare strike the Prince of Asgard with a pillow?" Loki demanded, stooping to pick up the pillow you'd thrown at him and advancing on you. Instinctively, you held your hands out protectively in front of you, taking a step back.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Fighting back." He swung the pillow up over his head in both hands, bringing it down on top of your head. The fabric of the pillowcase dragged a huge section of your hair into your eyes.

"Pffft - Lohoki!"

"I demand you accept my ultimatum and allow me to take the floor," he ordered, beating you repeatedly with the pillow. You began to laugh, covering your head with your forearms and curling in on yourself to hide from his vicious fluffy attack.

"Oh-oof-ohokahay!! Okahay!!" The pillow strikes suddenly stopped, and you straightened your posture and ran your fingers through your tangled hair. Loki had a youthful grin on his face - one that complemented him nicely, you couldn't help but think. "Look - we're... friends, right? If you're alright with it, I wouldn't mind just... sharing. The bed, I mean."

"It's no difference to me, darling. I've shared a bed with many a Midgardian."

Your jaw slackened indignantly at his response. You prepared to scold him, but he began to chuckle, and you just knew he was being facetious. While you appreciated him lightening the mood, you couldn't allow him to get away with putting such an image in your mind.

"You dirty little scoundrel!" you chastised, swiping the other pillow off the bed and returning the favor, beating him over the head with it. "You have not shared a bed with that many!"

"Ahalright!! I - oof - for Odin's sake! I yield!" He caught the pillow on the last swipe, tugging it from your hands. "Norns, you're vicious!"

"Come, now - you can't be naïve enough to think anything less of me by now." You paced across the room and stooped to pick up the other pillow, smirking when Loki flinched as you approached him, then relaxed when you tossed the pillow down on the bed where it belonged. "I'm gonna go change for bed."

You disappeared into the bathroom to put on pajamas, returning to find Loki already lying in bed propped up against the headboard with his lower half under the blankets, his book in his hand once again. He'd changed into sleep clothes as well - a soft-looking cotton long-sleeved shirt on his upper half, and the waistband of what appeared to be a pair of actual Midgardian pajama pants peeking out from beneath the hem of the blanket over his waist. It was different than you were used to seeing him.

It suited him.

Suddenly feeling shy, you averted your gaze and focused your attention on the blankets on your own side of the bed as you turned the sheets down and crawled underneath. You lay flat on your back and settled into the pillow, staring straight up at the ceiling as Loki's book thumped shut beside you.

"You can read if you want to stay up, the light won't bother me," you insisted.

"I'm rather tired." With a wave of his hand, the overhead light flicked off, shrouding the room in darkness. With your sense of sight inhibited, you were acutely aware of the sound of his shifting against the mattress, his breathing in such close proximity to you.

"Well... goodnight," you mumbled.

"Goodnight."

You turned over onto your side facing away from Loki, eyes still wide open despite the fact that you couldn't see two inches in front of your face. Thoughts raced through your mind at light speed. What if I accidentally invade his space while I'm sleeping? What if he hears me snoring? Or worse... what if I say something in my sleep?

Beside you, Loki's breathing gradually slowed and deepened, and you assumed he had fallen asleep. Something about that was comforting to you - knowing that he felt comfortable enough in bed next to you to just drift right off to sleep. You shut your eyes, then, hoping sleep would come to you as well.

* * *

When you woke the next morning, Loki had already risen and vacated the bed. It was both a blessing and a curse - you weren't sure how you'd feel about waking up next to him, but you also couldn't know if you had accidentally rolled into his personal space during the night.

Loki had already prepared two mugs of coffee in the small coffee maker in the room. The smell of it was perhaps what woke you in the first place. You ran your fingers through your hair to smooth it down before shifting to sit up against the headboard, letting Loki know you were awake. He turned from where he stood at the counter where the coffee maker sat, pacing over to you with one of the mugs and placing it on the side table. Notably, he was still in his sleep clothes.

You'd been right - he was wearing Midgardian-style pajama pants. Green plaid, actually. It was oddly adorable.

"Sleep well?" he asked, rounding the bed to sit on the edge on his own side.

"Not bad. You?" You grasped the mug of coffee in both hands and took a sip, breathing in the bitter scent.

"Fine." He suddenly smirked. "How does it feel, knowing you are one of the few Midgardians who can boast about having been in bed with the God of Mischief?"

"Loki!" You swatted his arm. "What happened to having 'shared a bed with many a Midgardian'?"

He scoffed. "That was obviously a joke. I do have standards after all."

"I hope your 'standards' aren't too high," you teased, "I'd imagine there are many Midgardians who would decline your advances."

"What makes you say that?" he asked indignantly.

"Not everyone likes mischief. Especially in a lover."

"I like to think a bit of mischief in a lover keeps the relationship interesting."

"And yet you're still single."

Loki narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, then cocked one eyebrow and smirked. "Perhaps I simply haven't found someone who lives up to my standards."

"Pshh. You keep telling yourself that." You threw your legs over the side of the bed and got up, hoping to escape this conversation before he somehow managed to turn it on you.

The rehearsal dinner was that evening, so you had most of the day to yourself to decompress. You had gotten yourself dressed in casual clothes and were preparing to head out to a late breakfast when there was a knock at your hotel room door. Curiously, you paced over to the door and raised an eye to the peephole.

"Who is it?" Loki asked from his seat on one of the cushioned wicker chairs.

"Leah." You all but groaned out loud. If Leah was at your door, that could only mean one thing-

"It's wedding party bonding time!!" she squealed as you swung the door open.

"Bonding time? I haven't eaten breakfast yet."

"Breakfast? You realize how late it is, right? It's time for brunch!" She reached out and grasped your forearm, tugging for you to come with her. You turned your head and shot Loki an apologetic look.

"What about Loki? He hasn't eaten either."

"Then bring him! The whole wedding party is coming - no discrimination between guys, gals, and nonbinary pals."

"Oh - I'm sure he-"

"I'd be happy to join you," Loki interjected before you could make an excuse on his behalf.

"Perfect!!" She turned and motioned for the two of you to follow her, making long strides as she hurried down the hallway. You fell back to walk beside Loki, giving him a skeptical look.

"You know you don't have to come, right? Why are you so easily convinced to hang out with the wedding party?"

"Obviously you need me - you've no idea how to relax and have a bit of fun," he whispered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "And perhaps I'm intrigued by the idea of you owing me a debt. You did say that was contingent on my 'performance as a wedding date', after all."

"First of all - I know how to relax just fine on my own, thank you very much. And what exactly are you hoping to make me do?"

"I'm certain I can think of something."

Leah led you to the outdoor hotel restaurant where most of the wedding party had already sat down at a cluster of tables. The mid-morning sun was shining overhead, unhindered by cloud cover with nothing but clear blue skies for miles. Despite the blazing sun, the air wasn't exceedingly humid - it was a pleasantly dry heat, with an occasional cool ocean breeze providing just enough relief from the warmer temperature. The restaurant itself was set out on a large deck by the beach, with small white wooden café tables and umbrellas propped through the centers for shade. Add to all that the background of beautiful palm trees lining the beach, along with the soft rush of the ocean waves, and it was heaven on earth for someone like Leah who absolutely adored the tropics.

Surprisingly, Loki didn't appear overly uncomfortable in the heat. He'd even worn a short-sleeved shirt - something you didn't think you'd ever seen him wear before. You tried not to be too obvious about admiring his toned forearms as he animatedly made conversation with the two friends seated at your table. Naturally, they asked if the two of you were dating. The spark of amusement in Loki's eye as you stammered in your response to that question was starting to irk you.

As the waiter was clearing the empty plates from your table, Leah swaggered over with a half-empty mimosa in hand and a grin on her face. On her arm was her fiancé Leslie.

You liked Leslie a lot - they evened Leah out so well with their calm, laid-back demeanor. The way they looked at Leah left no doubt in anyone's mind that they loved her fiercely. An unexpected pang of sadness shot through your chest as the thought flitted through your mind that you were missing that intense love in your life. You reminded yourself that you were doing the responsible thing by keeping your heart closed off to any potential relationships.

"Leslie - how have you been?" you asked cordially.

"Pretty good! Just trying to keep this lovely lady in check until the wedding is over," Leslie replied with a cheeky grin.

"One of us has to do all the planning, Leslie!" Leah whined. Leslie laughed, leaning down to give her a kiss. Leah's cheeks were already tinged red from the mimosas, only amplified by her fiancé's public display of affection. She suddenly turned to you with wide-eyed excitement. "Are you ready to go get our nails done?"

Your eyebrows shot halfway up your forehead. "What? Oh, no, that's not really my thing, Leah-"

"You are one of the bridesmaids - you have to participate in all of the bonding activities," she insisted, a whiny twinge to her voice. "How would it look if you were missing from the photos??"

The fiery red eyes of the Bridezilla within were shimmering through Leah's brown ones as she gazed sternly at you.

"Leah, you know I don't paint my nails."

"Then get clear polish! Even a couple of the guys are joining us. You have to come!"

"B-but what about Loki?"

"He can come too!" She turned to him with a broad grin. "Get your nails done, or just hang out and drink champagne with the other guys if you want. Just don't let her skip out on her bridesmaid duties."

"You're using my date against me now?"

"Now hang on - she does have a point, darling. You must fulfill your duties," Loki chimed in, a mischievous gleam in his eye. You opened your mouth to scold him, but Leah interjected.

"See? I knew I liked him!"

Before you could provide your current sentiment on your Asgardian escort, Leah had begun bouncing along to visit another table. You buried your face in your hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. Beside you, Loki chuckled.

"Are you trying to punish me for something?" you grumbled.

"Oh, of course not. I'm having a wonderful time. It's quite entertaining to see you so far out of your element."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You scorn frivolity. Always straight down to business." Loki smirked smugly at you. "Now that you're being ordered to participate in such events, it's become clear to me that you simply don't know how to relax."

"I do too!"

"I'm not convinced."

You scoffed. "Are you saying I have to prove it to you?"

"As I stated - I'm not convinced."

As you opened your mouth to continue to argue, Leah's call cut you off. You stood from the table, giving Loki a hard, resolute look.

"I can let loose and have fun like anyone else. Just watch me."

"Oh, I'll be watching."

The spa was outdoors as well, a separate shaded area with sandalwood patio flooring and soothing fairy lights laced into a wooden pergola overhead. One of the spa technicians whisked your group over to the nail salon area, seating you in one of the salon chairs where another spa technician instantly handed you a glass of champagne. You smiled kindly as you took the glass, your gaze then meeting Loki's where he sat with a few of the other members of the wedding party and their dates on one of the cushy-looking sofas. With a smirk, you downed half your glass, nearly choking on the sudden burst of bubbles in your throat. Loki's eyebrows shot upward, an amused grin spreading across his face that made you scowl.

Determined to prove him wrong, and now with a bit of champagne going straight to your head, you turned to Vicky beside you and began attempting to make casual small talk.

"So... are you sure you and Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome over there aren't dating?" she murmured in your ear. You took another long swig of champagne to hide the sudden color in your cheeks before responding.

"Yep, pretty sure. We're friends."

"Oh come on! I see the way he looks at you!" she whispered excitedly. "What's holding you back?"

"I'm not really in a position to be dating anyone in my line of work," you responded flatly, nodding and smiling politely to the nail tech who had pulled up a stool in front of you and started filling the foot soaking basin with warm water. It felt soothing on your tired feet. "Anyway - enough about Loki. How is Ryan? Was he busy this weekend?"

"Hmph. Let me tell you..."

Vicky went on a tangent about her ex boyfriend cheating on her with his boss, and you simply sat and listened, nodding politely or gasping in horror at all the appropriate times throughout her story. Secretly, you were just glad to have the conversation on another subject that wasn't you and Loki.

She was only interrupted once, when the nail technician showed you both the polish color Leah had selected. It was a sparkly rose gold color - much more gaudy than you'd have considered for yourself. Not that you'd have considered any color at all, honestly - you weren't lying to Leah when you'd told her this wasn't your thing. Accustomed to knives and utility belts, you weren't exactly one to wear dresses and nail polish.

You considered declining and requesting clear as Leah had suggested, but you glanced up and caught Loki observing you with a shadow of a smirk on his lips. The sudden urge to prove you could relax and let loose outweighed your self-consciousness about doing something so far out of your comfort zone.

"Sure. I'll go with it," you told her with a nod. Beside you, Vicky squealed with delight.

"That color is gonna look amazing on you!" she gushed. You couldn't help but smile at that. You weren't used to people complementing your appearance; mostly because you didn't put much effort into it. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Vicky continued with her story (which had really turned into more of a rant) as the nail technician got started on your pedicure. You’d only had one once before, years ago with another friend of yours, long before the incident with HYDRA. It wasn’t so bad then - you wouldn’t go as far as to say it was relaxing, having a stranger touching your feet, but it was bearable. But this time, the moment she started touching your foot, you nearly jumped out of your chair.

Still trying to politely half-listen to Vicky, you struggled to hold still and keep a straight face as she massaged gritty exfoliating soap into your foot. It had been years since someone had attempted to tickle you, before you'd been christened with your enhanced powers from the mind stone experiments. Apparently, it hadn't just enhanced your strength and your senses. You were never this ticklish before.

You bit your tongue and focused on breathing slowly in through your nose and out through your mouth, gaze flitting intermittently over to where Loki sat chatting with some of the others while snacking on the charcuterie board Vicky had ordered for everyone. He wasn't really paying much attention to you, but you did catch his eye a couple of times. One of those times, unfortunately, the nail technician had started scraping the heel of your foot with the pumice sponge, and you flinched for the briefest moment.

It was enough to pique Loki's curiosity. Suddenly, he was watching you with more intent, a quizzical expression on his face. You returned your focus to your breathing, rolling your eyes up to the sky in an effort to just ignore the unbearably ticklish sensation.

"Are you still listening?"

"Huh?"

You had completely forgotten Vicky was still talking to you. She was staring at you now, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you ok? You seem distracted."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fi-HINE!" A giggle slipped out when the technician slid the pumice sponge along the ball of your foot. She glanced up at you apologetically, and Vicky's concerned expression morphed into an amused grin.

"Ticklish?" she asked teasingly, poking you in the ribs.

"AH- hey! Yes, alright?"

"Just squeeze the arm of the chair whenever it gets too bad - it helped me the first couple times until I got used to it."

"Note-HEH-ed." You grasped the arm of the chair as she suggested, reluctantly returning your gaze to where Loki sat with bated breath. He wore a devilish smirk that set your cheeks on fire and sent your heart racing, mouthing the words:

You're in trouble.

Great, you thought. Another reason to be flustered around Loki. This whole 'don't let your feelings get the best of you' oath you'd taken wasn't going so well.

You managed to survive the rest of the pedicure without kicking your poor nail technician on reflex, breathing a sigh of relief when she drained the water in the basin and sent you to one of the manicure tables. While you sat awaiting a technician, Loki took the opportunity to saunter over to you with that same devilish smirk still plastered on his face.

"What was that all about?" he asked facetiously. You scowled, though with less malice than you'd have liked given you were also fighting back a silly flustered grin.

"None of your business," you mumbled dismissively.

"Have you always been so ticklish?" He clicked his tongue, tutting at you tauntingly. "Would be a shame if an enemy discovered that little weakness on the battlefield."

"Weren't you in the middle of a conversation over there?" you demanded, glancing around wildly for a free technician to give you an excuse to cease this discussion.

"Oh, but this is far more entertaining." He prodded your side with one finger, chuckling when you flinched away. "Ticklish here, too? All this time we've known each other and you've kept this secret?"

"Can you blame me?" You breathed a sigh of relief as a nail technician sat down across from you to get started on your manicure, motioning for you to place your hands on the table. "Now, shoo - I'm busy trying to relax."

"Well, I certainly hope for your sake you find this more relaxing." Loki winked cheekily before returning to his former seat. Vicky suddenly swept in and took the seat beside you.

"He was totally flirting with you just now," she whispered in hushed excitement.

"What? No, no he's just constantly searching for new ways to get on my nerves."

"Oh, come on. Ryan used to tickle me constantly before we started dating."

"Your cheating ex? Comforting."

"Not the point. And also, not related."

"He's not even from this planet. Who knows what flirting looks like on Asgard??"

Vicky sighed sadly. "I know how you feel about dating, being a SHIELD agent and all. But as your friend, I see the way you look at him. I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy. But thank you, Vicky." You smiled half-heartedly, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

It wasn't the entire truth, of course. More than ever, you were feeling the dull ache in your chest, the sense of longing to truly love someone. To allow yourself to fall in love with Loki. It was becoming difficult not to allow yourself to slip over the edge from a simple crush to full-fledged feelings. But you had to hold firm in your resolve. This would all go away once you returned home and got back to focusing on your work.

At least, you hoped.

It felt like you had barely any time at all between "wedding party bonding time" and the rehearsal dinner that evening. Fortunately, Leah wasn't asking the wedding party to dress up for this. You were NOT about to put on a dress if it wasn't mandated by the Bridezilla. The wedding would be far more than enough for you with wearing a dress.

Leah and Leslie's wedding ceremony was taking place right on the beach. It was exactly what you'd pictured for her - warm, silky sand along a beautiful backdrop of azure ocean water bubbling up on the shore in gentle, rolling waves. Plus, a beach ceremony meant you didn't have to wear heels. That was a plus.

The Bridezilla had completely taken hold of Leah by the time you and Loki had arrived. Beside her, Leslie had a comforting hand on her shoulder as she argued animatedly with one of the attendants assisting with setup. Only snippets of the conversation were audible - something about the aisle runner being the wrong shade of ivory came rumbling from the depths of the Bridezilla's throat.

"Leslie is a saint for tolerating this chaos..." you muttered to Loki while still out of earshot of the wedding party.

"I'm willing to bet you would be a rather particular bride yourself," he whispered back.

"I would not!" you retorted indignantly.

"Perhaps not about such trivial things as fabric color. But you can't possibly look me in the eye and tell me that you wouldn't have sharp words for anyone who dared to use vanilla frosting on your cake."

You glared at Loki, feeling your cheeks prickle with heat. "So I don't like vanilla frosting. Is that a crime?"

"What about if they put olives in the salad?"

"You've only managed to prove that I'm a food snob."

"Oh? Then perhaps we should move on to discuss the inevitable tantrum you'd throw should the musician play anything from a decade earlier than the 1990s..."

"Shh. They'll hear us." You took advantage of your nearing proximity to the others to cut him off before he could tease you any further. Although, if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn't the teasing that was getting to you - it was the shock of realizing how many seemingly trivial details about you Loki seemed to have memorized. It was simultaneously flattering and terrifying, because it only tugged at your heartstrings knowing how intimately he knew your quirks.

By the time Leah had finally finished her argument over the aisle runner, your stomach was already beginning to growl in protest. If there were any consolation in having to suffer through the actual rehearsal, it was the knowledge that a delicious meal awaited you when you'd finished.

You hoped it was well worth it.

The Bridezilla growled orders at all of you through the entire rehearsal. On your walk down the aisle, your pace was "too fast." You slowed down as she requested, and then suddenly it was "not fast enough." It took everything in your power not to snap, knowing the Bridezilla would soon vacate its host when the wedding was over tomorrow and your friend would be left with the memories of any cold-hearted comments you threw her way.

Three practice runs and an hour later than scheduled, the wedding party was finally ushered to their tables for dinner. It was the same restaurant you'd had brunch at earlier, though with the setting sun and darkening sky, the gleam of the candles on the tables and the blazing glow of the torches lit around the outer edges of the deck changed the ambiance entirely. It only made you curious to know what the actual reception dining area would look like the next evening - this was a rather romantic setting in itself.

"Darling, you're walking too fast," Loki teased as you approached your assigned table. Whipping your head around, you shot him a glare.

"I'm starving. I'll walk as fast as I damn well please," you hissed.

"Oh dear. Do you Midgardians have a name for the monster that comes out when you're hungry?" He stepped out ahead of you and pulled out a chair, motioning for you to take a seat.

"The appropriate term is 'hangry,' and no. Even if there were a name for it, I wouldn't tell you."

"Why ever not?"

"What, you think I'm naïve enough to give you ammunition to tease me?"

"I thought you liked my teasing," he countered, pinching your side as he took his seat. You jumped, holding up a finger in warning.

"You don't want to tickle me when I'm hangry."

Loki smirked. "Is that explicit permission to do it once you've eaten, then?"

"That's not at all what I said," you grumbled, heat rising in your cheeks. Fortunately, before he could respond, the waiter stopped by the table to ask what meals you'd be having that evening. The mischievous glint in his eye told you this conversation was not over, however.

Dinner was, indeed, delicious. Perhaps even more so because you were ravenously hungry by the time it arrived to the table. You didn't even bother taking the time to scold Loki for whatever thoughts might be going through his head as he sat there snickering at you between bites.

"Excuse me, everyone!"

Leslie clinked their spoon against their glass to gain the attention of the group, awaiting the wave of silence before continuing to speak.

"Leah and I just wanted to thank you all for being a part of our wedding. It's been wonderful having so many caring friends and family surrounding us and celebrating our marriage. We couldn't have gotten here without all of you."

"Thank you all so much," Leah added tearfully, a watery smile on her face. "Our wedding day is going to be absolutely perfect, and we have all of you to thank for it."

As the group clapped politely, Leah turned to Leslie and pressed a long, tear-stained kiss to their lips. It warmed your soul to see your friend so happy in love. Still, that nagging, dull ache in your chest was difficult to ignore.

That is, until Leah got into an argument with one of the waiters when dessert was served because the plates weren't the right color. The Bridezilla strikes again.

By the end of the rehearsal dinner, you were frustrated and tired of listening to the Bridezilla's roaring and howling. As soon as was socially acceptable, you stood and bid Leah and Leslie an early goodnight, practically dragging Loki into the hotel to go seek sanctuary in your room.

The moment you arrived back in your hotel room, you stormed straight over to the bed and flopped unceremoniously on top of the mattress on your back, releasing a long pent-up groan of frustration.

"You seem to be quite ill-tempered every time we go to one of these events." Loki stood by the edge of the bed, gazing down at you curiously.

"Leah is my friend. She may be a crazed, stressed-out monster at the moment, but she's my friend. At least, that's what I keep reminding myself." You rubbed your eyes, feeling the weight of the wearisome day pressing on you. "I'm just glad this wedding is almost over."

"You know..." he began, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, "... marriage rituals on Asgard last an entire week."

You cringed, sitting up a bit and propping yourself up on your elbows. "Glad we don't have that on earth..."

"Yes, well, there's quite a bit of mead involved. It's much more enjoyable that way."

"What else is different about Asgardian weddings?"

"Well... for one thing, there's swords involved."

"Naturally."

"There's also a sacrificial goat on the fifth day-"

"A what??" You sat bolt upright with wide eyes. Loki cocked his head at your appalled expression.

"It's a ceremony to promote fertility. The betrothed woman carries a goat up a mountain, where the man then unsheathes his sword and-"

"OH-KAY that's enough," you cut him off, throwing your hands up over your ears. Loki suddenly began laughing.

"Did you honestly believe that was true?? It was a joke, darling! We're not barbarians - we're much more sophisticated than that."

"Loki!! How the hell am I supposed to know what marriage ceremonies look like on Asgard??" He continued to chuckle at your indignance, and so you huffed and shoved his shoulder playfully with both hands. "You're such an ass."

"Did you just push me?" he asked incredulously, turning his body toward you more fully with a dangerously devilish expression on his face. Before you could provide a response, he had grabbed hold of one of your ankles on the bed beside him and began dusting his fingertips along the sole of your foot.

"HEHEY!!" You tugged hard on your leg, kicking wildly at Loki with your free foot. He paused in his attack to swipe your other ankle out of midair, scooping them both into the crook of his elbow and scratching rapidly at both soles with all five fingers on his free hand.

"This is the most delightful little piece of information I've ever learned about you - now I know exactly how to take you down a few pegs when you're getting on my nerves."

"ExcUHUSE MEHE?" You planted your hands beside you on the mattress and pulled desperately to free your ankles from their imprisonment. "Getting ohon YOHOUR nerves?? Mihister God of Mischief??"

"You heard me correctly." He suddenly tugged harshly to pull your legs straight, consequently causing you to be dragged onto your back. His hands latched onto your hips before you had the chance to react to his surprise attack. A shrieky burst of laughter exploded from your chest, which only serve to encourage him to dig his thumbs in harder into the soft spaces next to your hipbones. "Apparently, this is also an excellent method for breaking you out of this sour mood you've been in all day. You're much more pleasant when you're laughing."

"SOHO RUHUDE- NAHAHAH LOKI!!" You squealed in protest when he began to scratch at your belly with all ten fingers, a rather undignified noise coming from a tough Avenger, you thought. Fortunately, you didn't have the wherewithal to dwell on it as his tickling fingers made your mind go fuzzy. Sensing you were tiring, he halted his attack, grinning fondly as you curled up in a ball to protect your vulnerable areas.

"I think that should be sufficient to cure your surly demeanor, don't you?"

"Gohod, Loki... yohou're vicious!" you whined, shifting to sit up against the headboard with your knees curled up against your chest. You couldn't deny the fact that you did actually feel a bit less grumpy. It was hard not to after having laughed so hard.

An added and unintentional effect of Loki's ticklish onslaught was the sudden wave of drowsiness that consumed you the moment the adrenaline had worn off. At least tonight it felt a bit less awkward crawling into bed beside the God of Mischief.

"Thanks again for agreeing to come with me," you murmured in the darkness as the lure of sleep threatened to overtake you.

"You did tell me I owed you." His baritone voice sounded slightly more gravelly than usual, and you suspected he, too, was on the verge of falling asleep. And yet, still, he found a way to tease you.

"I know. But you could have said no still. So... thanks."

"Anytime, love."

The rumbling of his voice echoed in your mind long after he had stopped speaking. It was the lullaby that lulled you to sleep that night.

* * *

You were trying desperately not to grow accustomed to Loki preparing you coffee before you woke in the morning. It would do you no good to allow that to feel like a part of your routine. Especially considering you'd only be waking beside him one more morning.

"What do Asgardian brides do on the morning of their actual wedding day?" you asked between sips of coffee.

"Well... the betrothed couple spend the morning separate from one another - similar to Midgardian custom, as I understand it," Loki explained. "The Asgardian custom is for the betrothed to bathe and cleanse themselves of their past in preparation for their future together."

"That's... oddly beautiful, actually."

Loki's mouth twitched upward slightly. "Historically speaking, the woman would bathe as a symbol of washing away her virginity."

"AND I've heard enough," you dismissed definitively, squeezing your eyes shut to will the heat from your cheeks.

"I simply answered your question," Loki shrugged. "What is the custom here on Midgard, then?"

"The tradition is for the bride and the bridal party to gather to get their hair and makeup done, get dressed, and take photos, while the men often gather and drink. Although, nowadays, people have done many different non-traditional things the morning of their wedding."

"And what will your friend be doing, then?"

"Oh, Leah is a traditionalist in that sense. Which means I'm stuck getting all beautified this morning." You scowled at the thought, drawing a laugh from the Asgardian.

"You make it sound as if she's torturing you."

"It is torture. Have you ever seen me in anything but slacks and a t-shirt?"

"I suppose not."

You drank your coffee as slowly as possible, so by the time you finished the last of it, the liquid was an unpleasant lukewarm temperature. It wasn't that you weren't excited to see Leah on her wedding day - you were just less than thrilled about getting dolled up for the wedding. Not to mention, you wouldn't see Loki until the ceremony. You knew he'd find some way to occupy his time while you were busy with the rest of the bridal party, but you couldn't lie and say you wouldn't be thinking about him until you saw him again.

After showering for the morning, you wrapped yourself in the green robe that Leah had gifted you with your name embroidered on the front. The color almost exactly matched the sage green color of the bridesmaid gowns. Fortunately, you wouldn't have to put that on until later, closer to the time of the ceremony. But the robe was, admittedly, rather comfortable.

Loki looked at you inquisitively as you stepped out of the bathroom with the sage green gown draped over your elbow.

"Is that what you'll be wearing this evening?" he asked, motioning to the garment on your arm.

"Oh, uh... well, yeah. Leah picked it out." You held it by the straps and let the skirt of the dress hang down, providing him a better view of the gown. "I'm not thrilled about how I look in dresses, but I'm doing this for Leah, so..."

"The color suits you."

You stopped talking for a moment, jaw remaining slightly open. "Beg pardon?"

"The color. You look captivating in green."

A fiery heat rose from your neck to your ears. "I, uh... thanks."

You bade Loki goodbye before heading up to Leah's hotel suite, his complement buzzing around in your mind. Had you ever even worn green in front of him until today? Most of your workout clothes were some shade of black or gray. Not to mention, you knew green was his color. All his Asgardian leather had some sort of green hue worked into the fabric somewhere. Part of you felt a semblance of pride, knowing Loki thought his color was fitting on you.

Then the practical part of you recognized you were starting to slip over that edge into true feelings for the Prince of Asgard, and you quickly shook his words from your mind.

Leah was a complete nervous wreck when you arrived in her suite. It was a welcome change from the commanding, angry monster she'd been yesterday at least.

"What's going on?" you asked as you shut the door behind you.

"The hair stylist was supposed to be here ten minutes ago," Vicky explained, clearly trying her hardest to suppress an eye roll. Luckily, Leah didn't seem to notice.

"If she doesn't get here soon, she's going to cut into the time slotted for makeup, and then we'll be late for the ceremony and-"

"Leah." You placed both hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eye. She paused in her breathless rattling sentence, her lower lip trembling. "It's your wedding day. No matter what happens, the most important thing is that you enjoy yourself. Nobody will notice if it isn't one hundred percent perfect."

She gazed at you silently for a moment, eyes wide. Then, suddenly, she threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight.

"Thank you," she mumbled into your shoulder. "You're right. I'm marrying the love of my life today. Nothing could possibly be better than that."

When she released you and stepped back, she had a watery smile on her face. There wasn't a hint of the Bridezilla remaining in her eyes. Could it have been that simple? Had you found a way to defeat it?

A knock on the door caught Leah's attention, and moments later, the hair stylist was entering with her supplies in hand ready to get started. All was now right in her world.

The morning was a whirlwind of hairstyling, makeup, and photos, laced with some intermittent happy tears from the bride and a single round of champagne to celebrate. You barely recognized yourself in the mirror by the time you were finished getting ready. More surprising, though, was that you didn't hate how you looked as much as you anticipated. It would certainly still take some getting used to.

A small voice in the back of your mind wondered what Loki would think when he saw you.

At long last, it was time for Leah and Leslie's wedding ceremony. Leah looked absolutely radiant in her wedding dress, with her hair in loose curls framing her face. You took your place beside one of the groomsmen, grasping his elbow as he offered it to you politely, and began to walk down the aisle as the music started.

You pasted a smile to your face as you walked at exactly the pace dictated by Leah at the rehearsal the evening before. More than ever, your heart ached with the sadness of knowing you would never allow yourself to walk down the aisle as a bride. You reminded yourself that it would be irresponsible. Reckless. It would put someone you loved in danger of HYDRA's retaliation against you for your escape. It would give you something to lose, something to distract you from your hero work...

And then your eyes met Loki's.

He was seated with a few of the other wedding party members' dates that he'd been schmoozing with these last few days, two seats in from the aisle. You weren't sure you'd ever seen him looking so awestruck. His eyes were wide, brows raised, jaw slack, a dusting of red gracing his cheeks. Those beautiful blue-green irises of his roamed up and down, taking in the entire sight of you. That smile on your face was no longer forced, your own cheeks feeling a bit warmer under the weight of his gaze. You forgot about your heartache - you simply reveled in the feeling of Loki looking at you as though you were the only person in the room.

In that moment, you tipped over the edge. You'd fallen for him. And there was no going back.

Damn.

The moment had passed as quickly as it had begun, and you were taking your place by the altar among the bridesmaids. You took a minute to glance at Leslie standing at the end of the aisle, waiting eagerly for Leah to make her appearance. They wore a white jumpsuit, which suited them incredibly well. More striking was the broad smile on their face, and the shimmer of tears in their eyes as they caught sight of Leah for the very first time when she began her walk down the aisle. They looked so very happy together.

And there was no sign of the dreaded Bridezilla any longer.

The ceremony was beautiful, and you shared a great deal of laughs during the wedding party photos afterward. As much fun as it was, you couldn't wait until your bridesmaidly duties were finished so you could finally see Loki once again.

The moment the wedding party was dismissed, you hurried to join the rest of the guests at cocktail hour in search of your date. You didn't have to look for long. A sudden pinch to your sides from behind alerted you to his presence.

"Ah-ha- Loki!" you whined, your hands grabbing his at your waist out of instinct. Turning your head, you found him leaning over your shoulder from behind to get a better look at your face, an impish grin on his face.

"I couldn't resist," he insisted with a chuckle, turning you around to face him. You got your first good look at his outfit as well. He wore a tailored black suit, paired with a white shirt and simple black tie underneath. His dark locks had been tamed slightly, still hanging loosely around his face. The whole look brought out the vivid blue-green color of his eyes.

"You, er... you clean up nice," you mumbled, overcome by that shy feeling that only he could elicit. Loki's grin widened as he took your hand in his and brought it up to his lips, pressing them gently to the back of your hand. You shivered involuntarily at the gentleness of his touch, face feeling warmer than ever.

"And you look absolutely ravishing," he hummed, lowering your hand and releasing it as his eyes sparked with amusement at your sudden sheepishness. "Would you care for a drink, darling?"

"Uh, yep. Let's do that," you breathed with a nod of your head, earning a warm rumble of a laugh from your companion. He placed a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you toward the bar to order you something to drink.

The sun was beginning to set overhead, a palette of oranges, pinks, and yellows painting the horizon over the ocean. The guests were buzzing with conversation and laughter, bubbling with 'how are yous' and 'I missed yous' as family and friends reunited to celebrate Leah and Leslie. You felt a pleasant warmth surging through you, though it was hard to say whether it was the joyful energy of the evening or the feeling of Loki's hand resting on your back as he chatted amicably with some of the wedding party that brought it on.

"Have you two finally confessed your feelings??"

Vicky sidled up to the two of you as you were nabbing an hors d'oeuvre off a nearby platter.

"We're friends, Vicky!" you reiterated, popping the snack in your mouth to give yourself an excuse not to have to say any more.

"Sure looks like you're getting a little extra friendly with each other," she teased with a sly grin, motioning to Loki's hand on your back. You nearly choked on your hors d'oeuvre, barely managing to swallow it and opening your mouth to retort, but Loki beat you to the punch.

"I'm simply preparing for the next time she decides to say something cheeky," he explained, his fingers digging into your side for a moment. You spluttered and giggled, leaning into him involuntarily to evade his fingers.

"Ah, I see..." Vicky nodded, her grin widening. "I'll see you two at dinner, then. Don't have too much fun!"

"You sneak!" you hissed, shoving him playfully as you bit back a grin. He shrugged with a laugh.

"I-hi was simply providing you with an excuse - you certainly didn't seem to have one," he teased.

It wasn't long before Leah and Leslie returned from taking photos, and the guests were ushered to the main reception area. The space was absolutely breathtaking. White tableclothed tables and chairs were set out along a large stone-tiled patio space on the beach. Above the dining area were strings of soft warm lights draped over a wooden frame outlining the space. Simple vases of flowers served as the centerpieces atop the tables, nested between sets of small tea-light candles that glowed bright against the darkening sky. You and Loki found your seats at the bridal party table.

Which, notably, did not have an empty seat at it, thanks to your Asgardian prince.

Loki nudged you with his elbow as the waiter swept by and set out plates of salad in front of each guest. You tilted your head quizzically as he gestured to the plate in front of you.

"There's olives in the salad," he informed. You looked down and found that there were, indeed, whole green olives set atop the bed of leafy greens. You groaned out loud.

"Why does anyone want these horrid things in their salad??" you whined. Loki chuckled beside you, earning a glare. "What, you think it's funny?"

"No - I think it's charming, actually, that you get so irritable about such trivial matters." You stuck your tongue out at him, only serving to draw another laugh from the trickster. "Here - allow me."

With a wave of his hand, the olives in your salad disappeared in a flash of green light. Wide-eyed, you glanced around the table to see if anyone noticed, but they were all wrapped up in their own conversations and paying little attention to the little display of magic Loki had just performed.

"Darling - they're well aware I'm not from around here," he teased as he watched you relax knowing no one had witnessed the spell.

"Yeah, well... force of habit." You were referring to your own special abilities, which you kept carefully under wraps from your non-superhero friends. Much unlike the God of Mischief beside you, who chose to flaunt his abilities whenever he saw fit. Still, it was rather sweet of him to think of you when he saw the olives on the salad. You picked up your fork, offering him a half smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime, love. I'll be here when they bring the cake with vanilla frosting."

"Oh, shut it."

Dinner was excellent, as was to be expected coming from Leah and Leslie's wedding. Leah wouldn't have settled for anything less than spectacular. Although, you wondered if she'd even tasted any of her food tonight, watching her bounce from table to table greeting guests with a huge smile on her face and her new spouse on her arm.

Following dinner, the DJ called for Leah and Leslie to have their first dance as a married couple together. You recognized the song they'd selected the moment it began to play - it had been the song playing in the car on their first date. Leah had played it on repeat for a month after that. She'd gotten it stuck in your head every time you'd come to visit.

Leslie took Leah's hand and waist, sweeping her into a graceful slow dance. They gazed lovingly into each other's eyes, and Leah giggled once about something Leslie whispered in her ear. You watched the couple longingly, feeling your heart squeeze painfully inside your chest. It was a beautiful, natural partnership they had, made obvious by the ease at which Leah followed Leslie's every move, never once looking at anyone else around them.

"If this were an Asgardian wedding, they would be holding swords during the first dance."

You turned your attention away from the dance to look at Loki beside you, who was leaning back into his seat after having shifted to whisper in your ear.

"Really? How does that work?"

"It's rather elegant, really. Each holds a sword in their right hand, their left hands free to dance palm to palm as is tradition in Asgard. When they turn the opposite direction, with their right sides facing one another, the swords serve as the connection between them. A way of honoring their ancestors and binding their families."

"Hmm." You tried to envision what such a dance might look like. Though it was difficult to imagine Leah and Leslie participating in a traditional Asgardian wedding dance, you could easily picture Loki dancing elegantly with sword in hand. He fought with a sort of dance quality to his movements, though you'd never seen him actually dance. You were intrigued by the thought, though you weren't keen on dancing yourself.

When you returned your attention to the dance floor, the song was just ending. As happy for them as you were, you were glad not to have witnessed the remainder of the dance. It was only making your heart ache, filling your mind with desires you knew you should never pursue.

The DJ announced the opening of the dance floor, and suddenly you were the only two people seated at your table as the rest of the bridal party leapt to their feet to join the married couple. The music was loud, upbeat, perfect to dance to if you knew how to dance. Unfortunately, you were not one of those people.

"Would you like to join them?" Loki asked. You smiled weakly and shook your head.

"Two left feet," you offered in explanation. Loki's brow furrowed in confusion, and you laughed. "It's an expression. It means I can't dance."

"Oh, that I don't believe. You are more than capable of dancing. I've seen your agility on the field."

"Alright, yes - physically speaking, I can dance. But not well. And certainly not well enough to make a fool of myself in front of all these people."

Loki's eyes narrowed playfully. "Mark my words, darling - I will get you on the dance floor at some point this evening."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought.

Glancing around desperately for a distraction, your eyes fell on a middle-aged couple who were standing off away from everyone else. You motioned with a subtle tilt of your head toward the couple, who appeared to be shouting at one another.

"What do you think they're arguing about?" you whispered.

"Perhaps he refused to eat the olives from her salad," Loki responded in a teasing tone. You stuck your tongue out at him once again for poking fun at you.

"I don't know... she looks a little too angry to be shouting over olives." You tried listening for any audible snippets of conversation, but even with your enhanced hearing they were just out of range. "I bet he cheated on her or something. She looks really mad."

The woman threw her hands out to the sides to emphasize whatever point she was trying to make. Then, the man held up a single finger in her face, and she looked positively livid. With a swift retraction of her hand, she swung hard and slapped the man across the face with enough force to make him stumble. You threw a hand over your mouth to hide your shocked expression as she pivoted on her heel and stormed off.

"Alright, I'll give you that one. I don't think she was angry about the olives." Loki's eyes roamed around, landing on a young boy of no older than seven throwing a temper tantrum on the ground in front of his mother. "Ok - what do you think he's upset about?"

"Ooh... that's a tough one, it could literally be anything at that age..."

"Personally - I think he's upset that he can't have dessert yet."

"Really? They haven't even brought out the cake yet." You pondered for another moment as the frustrated mother pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "I think... he doesn't like the volume of the music."

At that moment, two waiters appeared carrying the wedding cake between them, setting it down on a decorative table. The boy pointed to the pastry and wailed even louder, tugging angrily at the hem of his mother's dress from his seat on the ground.

"Oh-ho! Who was right this time?" Loki goaded, smirking at you. You shook your head defeatedly.

"Best two out of three, then?" you asked.

The music suddenly shifted to a slower rhythm, and on the dance floor couples were coming together to sway to the music in each other's arms. Loki rose to his feet beside you, holding his hand out with his palm facing upward.

"My lady - might I have this dance?"

You felt a hot blush gracing your cheeks at his formality and his debonair smile, his sparkling blue-green eyes fixed on you. Unable to speak suddenly, you nodded and took his outstretched hand in yours, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor for the first time that evening.

Loki found an open space for the pair of you, suddenly twirling you around by the hand before sweeping you up into a dance partner's hold. His free hand fell to the small of your back while the other still held loosely to yours. You blushed at the fact that you giggled like a schoolgirl as you placed your free hand on his shoulder.

"I had no idea you knew how to charm a woman in such a way," you teased. His chin tilted upward slightly with pride, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"I've told you already - they don't call me silver-tongued for nothing, darling."

"You barely even said a word."

He ducked his head down lower, his lips hovering just beside your ear. You could feel his breath graze your skin as he spoke.

"I didn't need to. There's more than one way to make a woman go weak in the knees."

No kidding.

You busied yourself glancing around at the other couples around you to avoid catching Loki's eye for a moment, lest your face actually catch fire. A small chuckle resounded from deep within his chest as he squeezed your hand fondly.

"Are you at least enjoying yourself? Now that your friend is no longer breathing fire?" Loki asked. You turned back to catch his gaze.

"Yes. Yes, it's been fun. And I'm... happy for Leah and Leslie."

"You sound uncertain."

"I'm not." You fell silent a moment, letting Loki gently sway you to the music. "I am happy for them. Truly. It's just hard not to think about what could have been, had I not been given these powers."

"How could you? You'd likely not have met me," he countered, flashing you a smirk. You laughed despite yourself.

"Very true. What sort of life would that be?"

"A rather boring one, I should think."

A more comfortable silence fell between the two of you after that. You allowed yourself to simply enjoy the sensation of his firm hand at the small of your back, the coolness of his palm against yours. Loki danced as gracefully as you'd expected, his feet never accidentally landing on yours, his guidance strong but never overbearing. There was a sense of safety in his arms, and yet there were still nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The song faded, and a more upbeat tune took its place. You turned to head back to the table, but Loki held fast to your hand.

"I did tell you I'd get you out on the dance floor this evening."

"No, Loki, I can't - I don't know how, I have no rhythm, I-"

"Don’t make me try to charm you into it again,” he whispered low in your ear. You made a noise somewhere between a whine and a groan, and Loki laughed heartily. He took your other hand in his, eyes fixed on yours as he began moving to the music. You sighed and followed suit, making your best attempt at dancing. He grinned and nodded approvingly, suddenly lifting your hand over your head and twirling you around.

“Loki! You have to warn me!” you laughed, stumbling forward with the sudden dizziness and pressing your hands to his chest to steady yourself. He captured your hands in his once again and continued to move with the beat.

The shyness was beginning to wear off as you danced with Loki there to guide you. Before this evening, you’d never have pictured him to be one to enjoy simply moving to upbeat music, always having imagined him to prefer the elegance of a slow waltz. But he was good at this. Not to mention, he had a handsome, youthful grin on his face the entire time he was dancing with you.

As the song ended and a new one began, Loki took your hand in his and bowed theatrically, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Thank you for the dance, my lady. I daresay you are an excellent dancer.”

“We could stay for one more… if you wanted.”

Loki grinned, straightening up and twirling you before catching you around the waist and dipping you back slightly. “Who am I to say no?”

He had you on the dance floor most of the rest of that evening. By the time the DJ announced it was time to cut the cake, you were pleasantly dizzy and tired. Loki led you back to the table to sit down.

You watched as Leah and Leslie took the cake cutter in their hands together and sliced into the cake, carving out a small piece. Leah carefully fed a piece to Leslie, but Leslie made certain to smear frosting along Leah’s cheek. She laughed, pressing a frosting-laden kiss to their lips. And once again, your heart began to ache, longing for something like they had.

Loki seemed to notice your change in demeanor after that, because he didn’t press the issue when the music came back on and you didn’t rise to your feet to rejoin the dance floor. You sat at the table and ate your pieces of cake, and Loki teased you for scooping off the vanilla frosting with your fork first, but you didn’t laugh as hard as you usually would.

As the evening came to a close, you bade Leah and Leslie goodnight and congratulations before heading back to the hotel room. You were silent as you walked, mind racing with thoughts about the evening. It had been wonderful. More wonderful than you would have ever imagined, and Loki was to thank for it. But that was exactly the problem - you weren’t supposed to let this happen. You weren’t supposed to allow yourself to get swept up in the romance of the evening and fall for him. And now, all you could think about was the image of another wedding - your wedding - with Loki twirling you on the dance floor the way he had tonight. A painful lump formed in your throat, knowing that you could never let that happen.

You took your time undoing the pins in your hair, washing away the makeup on your face and carefully hanging the dress after pulling on a soft set of pajamas. When you exited the bathroom, you found Loki was already lying in bed waiting for you so he could turn out the lights. The lump in your throat refused to go away no matter how hard you swallowed.

As you crawled into bed beside Loki for the final time, your eyes began to sting with the burning threat of tears. Keeping your face turned so he wouldn't see, you lay down on your side facing away and let your eyes slip closed. As he turned out the lights, a single tear spilled over and slid down your face, dampening the hair at your temple. You pulled the blankets up to your nose in hopes it would help to hide your sadness.

By now, you should have known Loki was too perceptive.

"Are you alright?"

His voice was low, gentler than you'd heard him speak before. It was laden with worry, uncertainty. Still, you couldn't help but flinch when he spoke, knowing he'd seen through your façade. His hand rested on your shoulder, and the warmth of his touch was enough to push you over the edge. The tears flowed freely, a quiet sob wracking your body.

Wordlessly, Loki ran a firm hand up and down your arm in an attempt to comfort you. He didn't ask you to explain, he didn't turn on the lights, he didn't try to get you to look at him. He simply let you cry, his hand never once leaving your arm - a silent reminder that he was there.

As the tears finally began to subside, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and finally turned over to face Loki. You weren't certain how well he could see in the darkness, but you still felt sheepish enough to pull the blanket back up over your nose to hide the redness of your face.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked finally.

"I'm just being silly. It will pass," you replied with a dismissive chuckle. His hand found your arm once again and squeezed.

"If it's enough to cause you to hurt this way, it can't possibly be 'silly'."

"Oh, but it is silly. Because I've done this to myself." You let out a watery laugh. "The only reason that I can't have what Leah has is because I'm too scared to allow myself to have it. Me - a SHIELD agent, an Avenger with super strength and enhanced senses, too scared to fall in love."

"Why?"

The question was both simple and complicated all at once. One word, and yet you couldn't formulate a coherent response that would answer the question.

"I... I don't know anymore." You laughed again. "I'm not making any sense."

"I understand."

"You do?"

"You fear the risk of hurting someone who loves you. Physically, emotionally... it doesn't matter. It terrifies you, doesn't it?"

You were silent for a moment, listening to the quiet rush of air with every breath he took. "Yes," you whispered finally.

"Then we are more similar than you realize."

Both of you fell silent then. Loki's presence was both calming and distressing all at once. More than anything, you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms and hold you close, but the thought of that was more terrifying than anything else.

"Are you feeling alright now?" he asked.

"Better, yes." You sighed, releasing the air pent up in your chest. "Can we talk about something else? I need a distraction."

"What do you propose?"

"Anything."

"Alright... how about we discuss how you will repay the debt you now owe me?" You couldn't see his face in the darkness, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"What?? Who said I owe you a debt?" you demanded, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"I beg your pardon - I have been an exemplary wedding date, I should think."

"I'm pretty sure that's for me to decide." A smile was tugging at your lips now. He always could make you smile, even when you didn't want to. And gods, you needed it right now.

"Alright then - pray tell, what have I done that would cause you to decide that I've been anything less than the perfect escort?"

"Well... you..." What had he done that you could use as an excuse? "Oh, how about when you teased me for being ticklish??"

"Ah, that's right..."

His tone was mischievous, and you knew what was coming before he'd even grabbed hold of your sides and started tickling you without mercy. With a shriek of protest, you burst into desperate laughter.

"NOHOW I DEHEFINITELY dohon't owe yoHOU!"

"Is that right? Better make it worth my while, then."

"Noho, wait, WAHAIT!!" You squirmed helplessly and grabbed at his hands while his torturous fingers skittered across your belly, up your sides, dancing along your ribs and back down to dig into your hips. The inability to see him made it all the more unbearable, never knowing where he planned to attack next. You could picture the devilish smirk on his face, and it made your cheeks burn.

"Changed your mind yet, darling?" he queried teasingly, slowing to scratch gently at your sides to keep you giggling. You hooked your fingers around his hands and pulled them away from your sides.

"Nohot a chance," you responded resolutely. He chucked low in his throat, his fingers closing around your own where they rested against his palms.

"Do you think this is enough to stop me?" He lifted your hands in his for emphasis.

"Seems to have worked." You knew you were egging him on now, but you didn't care. This was serving as a wonderful distraction, and your spirits were definitely higher now that he had you laughing.

"Oh, I'll show you how well it worked."

Suddenly, you felt him shift to plant his weight on your legs, his hands sliding down to close around your wrists. You squeaked in surprise at the sudden increase in the strength of his hold on you, tugging at your imprisoned arms and babbling giggly protests as he made quick work of pinning your wrists over your head. He shifted his grip to pin them down with one of his larger hands, his free hand now hovering somewhere over your torso in the darkness.

"WAHAIT! I cahan't see you, this isn't fahahair!!"

"Tsk, does that make it worse?" His fingertips dusted briefly over your belly just below your navel, and you jolted and yelped at the unexpected ticklish touch.

"Ye-HA! Yes, it's wohorse!"

"How fortunate for me, then." His fingers ghosted along your side this time, causing you to twist reflexively toward his hand to block it. Suddenly he was pinching at your ribs on the other side, eliciting a screech. As quickly as it began, his fingers left your ribs, only to claw at the soft skin under the opposite arm.

"AHAHAH LOHOKI I CAHAN'T TAKE IT!!" You arched your back hopelessly, giggly laughter bubbling from your lips as he tickled his way down the entire length of your side to your hip and back up again, stopping just before he reached your underarm to jump to your belly and keep you guessing.

"You are so charmingly ticklish, it's rather adorable." Loki released your arms in favor of freeing up his other hand to claw under your arm before you could block his access by slamming your arms down to your sides.

"SHUHUT UP!"

"Rude. It was intended to be a complement, and this is the thanks I get?" His fingers hooked around the backs of your ribs, and you howled with desperate laughter. "Oh-ho, I've got you now."

"PL-AHAH-PLEHEASE!" you pleaded, unable to say anything more as he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers and your laughter became breathless.

"Do you yield? Are you prepared to admit you owe me a debt?"

"Y-eheh-YEHES!" you wheezed, finally breathing a sigh of relief as he relented in his attack. You felt as though you were in a state of drunken euphoria after having laughed so hard for so long. "Wh-ahah-what are yohou so desperate to mahake me do that you want me to owe you so badly?"

"Go out to dinner with me."

The room fell silent after the words spilled out of his mouth. You were acutely aware that he'd made no effort to shift off of you, his hands planted on either side of you to hold his weight above you.

"I'm not saying you have to, of course..." Loki suddenly sounded sheepish, almost as you did when you'd asked him to come with you to this wedding. "I fully understand your stance on... romantic relationships... but I thought, perhaps-"

You didn't know what possessed you to do it. Perhaps you'd had just enough alcohol that evening to feel disinhibited enough, or perhaps the sense of loneliness had finally overcome you. Perhaps you simply couldn't hold back your feelings for the god any longer, now that he'd admitted his own feelings for you.

Whatever the inciting factor was, you found yourself wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, gaining the leverage you needed to surge forward and capture his lips with yours.

A noise of surprise came from Loki's throat before he melted into your kiss, allowing his weight to gently drop down on top of you so he could slide his arms around your back. Without breaking the kiss, he suddenly rolled onto his back with his arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you to lie on top of him instead. It was your turn to squeak in surprise at the sudden motion, regaining your composure quickly and smiling against his lips. He turned his head slightly to break apart from you for a moment, his chest heaving from his heavy breaths.

"You know... it's rude to interrupt-"

You growled and cut him off once again with your mouth, kissing him harder and more fervently than before. The taste of his kiss was addicting, the feeling of his fingers lacing through the hair at the nape of your neck sending shivers down your spine. His other hand slipped beneath the hem of your sleep shirt to rest against the bare skin of your back, his skin surprisingly cool against yours.

When you'd finally become too breathless to continue kissing him without breaking for air, you gently pulled away, grinning as he lifted his head to press one last kiss to your lips. You sighed, laying with your face buried in his neck and pressing tiny, reverent kisses to the soft skin. Loki hummed contentedly, pressing his palm flatter against your back to squeeze you impossibly closer to his chest.

"What are you thinking, love?" he asked fondly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Mm... I'm thinking I'm kind of sleepy."

"Then rest." He turned to roll you off of him, gently pushing on your waist to get you to turn your back to him. His strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you close, your back flush against his chest. You could feel the soft puff of air from his nose rustling your hair with every breath. Eyes sliding closed, you felt your consciousness slipping as you slowly drifted off to sleep in Loki's arms.

* * *

What have I done?

Those were the first words to run through your mind when you awoke the following morning, Loki's arm still wrapped tightly around your waist. You remembered everything from the evening before, of course. You hadn’t been drunk. It was intentional, kissing Loki. In the moment, it felt absolutely perfect. But now, as the morning sun rose in the sky and the romance of this whole trip was coming to a close, all you could think about was what this meant for the two of you going forward.

There was no doubt in your mind that you loved him, which made it all the more terrifying. You'd allowed your feelings to get the best of you, to break the promise you'd made to yourself when you'd first joined the Avengers. There was no going back to the way things were after last night.

The thought of an actual relationship with Loki was overwhelming. In some ways, it was exactly what you wanted, and yet that nagging thought in the back of your mind told you it was dangerous. Someone, some way, was going to get hurt. It was inevitable for someone like you, someone in your line of work, someone with your history, your powers. If you truly cared about Loki, you wouldn’t subject him to the inevitable heartache that would come with being your partner. Better to end it now before either of you became too emotionally invested.

Gently, you grasped Loki’s wrist and moved his arm off of you so you could slip out of bed, hoping not to wake him. Unfortunately, he was already awake.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asked, voice still gravelly with the remnants of sleep, yet still with a teasing air to his tone.

“Have to pee,” you lied, ducking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you before he could ask more questions.

You still didn't know what to say to Loki when you came back into the main room, so you did what you knew best and avoided his gaze, making a show of digging through your suitcase for an outfit for the day. Loki said nothing while you pulled out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, rising to your feet with your back facing him and making your way back toward the bathroom.

"You're having second thoughts."

You stopped dead in your tracks, letting out a slow breath through your nose. Slowly, you turned around to face Loki, who had gotten out of bed to stand at his full height. There was a cloud of worry shadowing his face, the same face that last night had worn nothing but a grin and a spark in his eyes. That spark faded quickly as his face fell, realizing his speculations were true when he saw the tears brimming in your eyes.

"I... I never should have let this happen," you whispered, turning your gaze to the floor so you couldn't see the agony in his eyes. "I was irresponsible, I knew what the consequences would be, I-"

"Stop. Stop saying that as though you aren't deserving of love." Loki took a slow step forward, gradually closing the distance between you. "Why can't you simply accept that you can be a hero and have someone in your life who loves you?"

"Because I'm a coward, Loki!" Hot tears spilled over your eyes and streamed down your cheeks, but you held a hand up to stop him from coming closer to comfort you. "Don't you see? I can't possibly love you if it means I'll live in constant fear of losing you!"

"Why do you worry so much that you'll lose me?? Do you think me weak enough to succumb to your strength if you lose control?? Are you honestly worried that you'd hurt me??"

"Maybe?! How could we possibly know?? You've never been subjected to my powers, and I don't intend to test it out!"

Loki chuckled humorlessly. "Foolish girl. You're just looking for any excuse to reject me. Don't try to soften the blow, for Odin's sake - just swing the axe and get on with it!"

"That's not true! Loki, you know that's not true. I would love nothing more than to be with you-"

"Then why are you doing this to yourself?? To me??"

You shook your head, trying to find a way to explain. How could you, when you could barely understand it yourself?

Loki sighed, hanging his head defeatedly and averting his gaze from you. "I'll never understand. But I'm not going to force you to love me when you clearly don't."

"Loki, I-"

"Please. Spare me the hollow apologies and the meaningless consolation. Let's just go home."

Without another word, he turned and strode to the door, swinging it open and slamming it shut behind him. The room fell silent. You were alone.

You'd always be alone.

* * *

The two of you barely spoke during the entire trip home. Loki found somewhere else to sit on the plane so you wouldn't have to go through the discomfort of having to sit by his side and stew over everything that had happened. You found you missed his presence anyway. All you could think about was the story he'd told you on the ride there, about being the D.B. Cooper, and it made you want to laugh and cry all at once.

When you returned to the tower, Loki disappeared into his room without so much as a goodbye. Wanda was waiting for you in the common room. The minute you stepped inside, she sensed something was wrong. You sobbed into her arms for the rest of the evening, recounting everything that had happened in the last four days. She provided you the comfort that only a best friend could, sparing you the usual lecture about sabotaging your own happiness in favor of telling you it would be alright.

You didn't see Loki for days. It wasn't exactly difficult for him to avoid you with the sheer size of the Avengers tower, but you were fairly certain he had stayed in his room for the most part. It took everything you had not to go knocking on his door to apologize, to remind him it was all your fault, that he'd done nothing wrong. What good would it do but to cause the hurt to resurface? He needed time to heal, and you would be of no help with that.

The sadness in you gradually morphed into anger. Anger at yourself for being this way. For letting the fear of the unknown get in the way of your own happiness. Most of all, for hurting the one you loved. So you did what you always did when you started to feel angry - you made your way to the fitness room to fight away your emotions before they got the best of you.

Late in the evening, the fitness room was almost always empty, which made it the perfect time for you to let off some steam without disturbing anyone. You threw on a set of workout clothes, slid your feet into your sneakers and made your way up to the fitness room floor. You didn't bother stretching for very long before jumping right into throwing punches at the heavy bag. The anger was swelling up inside you - you had to release it in the form of physical energy before it overcame your ability to control it.

Thwap

How could you do this to him?

Thwap

Why don't you just let yourself be happy for a change?

Thwap-thwap

You're a coward! You're a monster!

You threw your hands to the sides of your head, pressing them against your temples as the thoughts consumed you. With a growl, you began throwing rapid-fire punch after punch at the bag, each blow harder than the last, watching with satisfaction as the bag began to sway from the force of your fists.

Thwap-thwap-thwap-thwap

COWARD! MONSTER! You're a DANGER to EVERYONE around you!

You sank to your knees, feeling more than hearing a yell tearing from your chest. The pressure in your head made it feel as though it might explode. You cradled it in your hands, trying to hold it together. A blinding light filled your vision, blurring out the room around you. The energy radiated off you in pulsing waves. You heard a mirror on the wall shatter, the pieces clattering across the floor. The chain holding the heavy bag creaked as it rocked with every wave of energy emanating from your body.

The next moments - hours, maybe? You couldn't know - were fuzzy in your mind. You remember the screams that ripped from your throat, the throbbing pain with every thrum of your heartbeat. You remember seeing a shadow in the blinding light around you, a figure coming closer to where you knelt. You remember the feeling of someone's hand in yours, squeezing tight despite your rageful protests. You remember a strong set of arms wrapping around you, a firm hand pressing against the back of your head and guiding your forehead to rest against something soft, something warm.

The pain subsided. The light faded back to the brightness of the fluorescent lights hanging overhead. The screaming ceased, replaced by ragged, quiet breaths as you slowly regained awareness of the room around you. You didn't dare move, for fear that it would all start over again if this figure decided to release you.

You knew who it was before you opened your eyes. The familiar scent of pine and leather filled your nose, calming you with every breath. His fingers ran gently through your hair in an effort to comfort, to soothe. The strong sound of his heart beating rhythmically in his chest grounded you, gave you something to focus on until your breathing slowed and deepened to a normal pace. Only then did you dare to open your eyes and lift your head to look at him.

"How?" you breathed.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that, love," Loki hummed in his familiar, gentle teasing tone. You let out a puff of air through your nose, the best laugh you could muster at the moment.

"How... how did you make it stop? Did you use magic?"

"I didn't."

"Then how?"

"I heard you screaming. I couldn't let you suffer alone." He lifted a hand to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I wasn't sure what to do, so I just... held you."

"That's... that's it?"

You were in awe that he hadn't used an ounce of magic. How had he not been injured by the energy bursting from inside you? You glanced over to the shattered mirror, where sharp, jagged pieces littered the floor. You'd broken it so easily, and yet here Loki sat before you, completely unharmed.

"You don't have to bear this burden alone. As someone who has done so with my own burdens for far too many years... just allow me to help you carry yours. Please."

A tear dampened your cheek, one you hadn't even realized had been forming. As quickly as it came, Loki brushed it away gently with his thumb. You gazed at him, feeling that same fear welling up inside you that had surfaced so many times before, when you thought you might give in to your feelings for him.

"I don't trust myself," you whispered.

"I don't trust myself either. But perhaps we can trust each other."

You turned his words over in your mind for a moment as he held your gaze, those blue-green eyes of his pleading for you to let him in. Finally, you nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips.

"I'd like that."

A relieved smile overtook his features as he lifted his hand to cup your cheek, steadying himself as he leaned in to slant his lips across yours. You kissed him back, drinking him in as though you needed his kiss to survive.

There, in the comfort and safety of his arms, you finally allowed yourself to accept the one thing you never thought you could.

You loved him. And it felt right.

[anodyne-sunflower]

Winter-Stephen WraysfordxReader (request)

A/N: Stephen’s turn! Really couldn’t think of much to do with him, but decided on something fairly simple. Hope y’all enjoy.

MOOD MUSIC: Dearly Beloved by Taylor Davis

***

Having to search your cabin for your husband wasn’t the ideal way to start Christmas, but Stephen had a nasty habit of disappearing most mornings. Granted, he’d always be awake before you doing chores, or simply relaxing outside in the country. He was a simple man, something you admired him for, but every year the holidays proved rather difficult for him. Having grown up an orphan wasn’t the particular issue, but rather he never saw the point of celebrating. You, on the other hand, loved winter and every holiday tradition that came along with it.

“Stephen?” Your soft whisper was met with silence, and as you walked through the home you found evidence he had at least fixed himself breakfast. “Where on earth did he go off to?” His coat and scarf were no where in sight, and judging by the dips in the snow outside he had left not so long ago. Likely making his way into town before the snow melted and the larger crowds came.

“He could’ve left a note...” You spoke your disappointment aloud, receiving an odd look from your dog that waited patiently by the door for Stephen’s return. “Did he at least kiss you goodbye, Scout?” You softened up, smiling as the hound barked and yipped at the mention of his master’s name. Stephen would usually let him tag along, but for whatever reason decided to have him stay back as he ran his errands. “Well, lets go outside and wait then.” You tugged your shawl free from the coat rack, laying the green material delicately over your shoulders. The bitter wind that met your cheeks sent a chill down your spine, and the idea of waiting for him outside was becoming foolish. He must’ve been desperate to leave, because no sane person would trek out into this winter so early on in the day.

“It’s so cold.” You rubbed ferociously at your arms, trying to maintain some body warmth when you took a seat on the porch. The only consolation was the beauty of the scenery, the woods dead and dark but gorgeously draped in the snow. All your life, you leaned towards the extravagance of town, but after meeting Stephen...the country became the only thing you adored. Peaceful, beautiful, and the perfect place to have your family.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” His concerned and annoyed tone caused you to glance up, and you smiled sheepishly as Stephen came trudging through the deep snow towards you. He was just at the fence of your home, basket in hand and scarf completely wrapped over his mouth and neck. Even through those layers, you could tell how bad the freezing temperatures had affected him.

“Waiting for you. Is that a crime?” It wasn’t meant with malice, only a playful hint of marital banter. Besides, he was hardly one to reprimand you for journeying out into the cold. “Find what you were looking for?”

Stephen casually walked up the steps to your porch, removing his hat and revealing the messy head of hair beneath. He looked positively charming that way, like a child that had just come from sledding or playing for far too long in the snow. Judging by the frost that had developed over his coat, that might actually be true. “Yes, I did. Forgive me for not waking you earlier.” He opened the door to your house, greeting Scout before pulling you along with him inside. He wasn’t going to risk you falling ill, all because you had the stubborn idea of waiting on him to come back. “I know Christmas morning means a lot to you, so...” He gently closed the door behind him, a knowing smile on his lips as he opened the basket to reveal several pastries from the bakery you adored so much. It wasn’t a long walk to be fair, but for him to go out of his way on a holiday, when the bakery would surely be overrun with orders and locals...it was undeniably heartwarming.

“You went all the-“

“Way into town for you? Yes.” Stephen chuckled at your shock, laying the basket down on the table and taking you into his arms. In spite of the air outside, he was surprisingly warm and it brought a joyful comfort to your body and heart.

“You’re wonderful, Stephen.” You nestled into his chest, helping him rid himself of the scarf as you dragged it off his neck. The former soldier hummed back to you, fingers softly dipping down your back before he leaned forward for a kiss. His lips felt perfect against yours, soft and inviting, with a slight chill to them that worked magic with your warmer ones. “Mm...” You moaned happily into his mouth, mind reeling at the kindness he decided to show you this holiday season. It wasn’t like he was a bitter person about it, but you usually spent Christmas simply relaxing like any other day. So this year, it felt entirely special because of his sweet gesture. “Thank you.” You pulled away momentarily, still lingering close to his mouth in anticipation of more intimacy.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Stephen whispered, tip of his nose brushing across yours as he smiled one last time before taking you into another kiss.

***

A/N: 🎄

[maddie-grove]

The Stark Romance Saga--Book #4: The Maiden of the Riverlands

Previous Installments: Loved I Not Honor More (Book #1, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling), The Iron Scoundrel (Book #2, Theon Greyjoy/Asha “Not His Sister in This Universe” Harlaw), Kissing the Kingslayer (Book #2.5, Catelyn Stark/Jaime Lannister), A Fire in Winter (Book #3, Jon Snow/Ygritte), and The Winter Bride (Book #3.5, Samwell Tarly/Gilly).

Note: This installment takes place roughly four years after the end of Sam’s book, which takes place about a year after the end of Jon’s book. Westeros is making progress, albeit slow, in its war against the White Walkers, and there has been a rather cool, brief spring and summer in the meantime. Queen Daenerys is on the throne, although she’s reached a Dornish compromise with the North, making it a principality. Dany’s doing a fine job on the whole, although she’s met with some difficulties, and has a reputation as a fair and kind ruler despite the whole dragon thing.

Other Note: I made Lord Londrew Frey up, because I have no idea which Frey would inherit the Twins after the foiled Red Wedding in Robb’s book. My other thought was making it Big Walder Frey; however, I have a soft spot for that little guy. He may be disturbingly casual about cousin-murder, but he has standards!

The Style

Sweet, drama-filled, and slightly off-kilter 1990s Patricia Gaffney or Susan Wiggs.

The Leads

Nymeria of High Heart (Nan for short), 20 years old, a folk heroine of the Riverlands. With her sword-fighting skills and the help of her direwolf, Sharra, she defends the poor, the weak, and the unprotected from unscrupulous outlaws and cruel lords alike. Dwells in a makeshift cottage near High Heart with only Sharra for company, living partly off the land and partly off the gifts of thankful Riverlanders. Has many friends, including the Brotherhood without Banners, but won’t get too close to anyone. Can’t remember anything before she was fourteen and found herself on the back of a wagon to Castle Black, disguised as a boy. It hurts too much to think about that time, so she’s resolved not to wonder about her past. Really, of course, ARYA STARK.

Gendry, 25 years old, a blacksmith at the inn-turned-orphanage at the crossroads and a member of the Brotherhood without Banners. Less angry than his canon counterpart due to improved circumstances, but still grumpy. An orphan from King’s Landing, he was apprenticed to a blacksmith who abruptly packed him off to join the Night’s Watch. Upset by his master’s rejection and embittered by the atrocities he witnessed in the Riverlands, he found a sense of belonging with the Brotherhood and with the kids who frequently mob him at work. Lately, though, he’s beginning to wonder if he should want more from life. Good friends with Nan, who survived the war alongside him and saved his life a couple of times. 

The Prologue

Shortly after her escape from Sandor Clegane and return to the Brotherhood, an exhausted fifteen-year-old Nan wanders away from the group and has a full-fledged emotional breakdown on a riverbank over everything she’s been through. She only stops crying when a gigantic direwolf approaches her. Instead of eating her, the beast licks her tears away and demands to be petted. Feeling better than she has in a long time, Nan takes the direwolf back to the camp and informs the wary Brotherhood that this is Sharra, named after a witch queen from a song. That night, she dreams about a family in a castle surrounded by snow.

The Set-Up

The Brotherhood without Banners and the Heddle sisters get together and throw a very merry harvest party at the inn at the crossroads. Gendry only goes because he lives there, but is pleasantly surprised to see Nan dancing with an extremely drunk Thoros of Myr. She’s been making herself scarce lately and, while he won’t admit it in so many words, he’s missed her. As they banter, dance, and drink a bit of cider, he also realizes that he’s attracted to her. He resolves to mash down his feelings--she obviously views him as an overbearing older brother and couldn’t possibly be interested--until she calls all his assumptions into question by saying something like, “Yo, nice ass, Gendry.” Long story short, they end up having awesome sex. The next morning, she bids him a cheerful but glib adieu before running back to High Heart, leaving him to wonder if he irrevocably ruined their friendship.

The two don’t speak again until a week later, when Gendry visits Nan’s cottage with news of an interesting matter: Lord Londrew Frey has been cheating his smallfolk by giving them almost no share of the grain that they harvest. Londrew claims that he’s sending the grain to the Night’s Watch to help the war effort, but there’s evidence that he’s selling it overseas instead. Nan agrees to help, although she’s not sure how to do it; she can steal from the Twins and exchange the loot for food for the smallfolk, but that’s only a short-term solution. 

The conversation trails off, and Gendry finally reveals the other reason he came to see her: he wants to talk about That Night and What It Means. He’s halting and awkward. They’ve been friends for a long time, he says, so of course he cares about, um, what happens to her. He knows she never...you know...and what if there’s a child, Nan? He never thought about marrying, but, well... (He doesn’t say that he’s never thought about anything beyond the next task, next meal and next catastrophe until recently, and now he’s not sure how to do it.)

Nan angrily rebuffs him. (She doesn’t say how much she cares about him, how often she thinks about that night, or how badly she longs for a real family. Even if he felt more than friendship and duty, she would lose him eventually, and she can’t stand to lose anyone else.) Stung, Gendry rants about her decision to live all alone in a pile of sticks like a crazy old woods witch. Eventually the rant becomes less “insulting” and more “seriously, are you sleeping at all?” Nan admits that she’s been dreaming more and more about the war and a strange Northern family, one of whom looks like her. In his taciturn way, Gendry expresses sympathy. They watch Sharra play among the weirwood stumps for a while, and then Nan’s face lights up.

“You know,” she says, “someone once thought I looked like a Stark girl.”

The Middle

After an obligatory “wait, WHAT” from Gendry, the two journey to Acorn Hall to get some help from Lady Smallwood, a longtime ally of the Brotherhood. They run into some heartwarming hijinks along the way, mostly brought on by the fact that Nan is beloved by every farmer, prostitute, and orphan in the Riverlands, while Gendry has one of those vibes that make little kids demand that he give them a ride on his shoulders or look at a cool rock they found. Lady Smallwood is pleased to see them and embarrasses Nan by reminiscing about when she was just a wee lass. She grows grave, though, once Nan’s dressed up as a lady in her daughter’s old clothes.

“You do have the Stark look, come to think,” she says. Nan repeats what she now tells everyone, including herself--she comes from King’s Landing and never knew her family--but her dreams are even more vivid that night.

The next day, Nan and Gendry head for the Twins, “disguised” as Arya Stark and her sworn sword. They flirt on the way, despite her determination to keep her distance and his to not renew the sentiments she found so disgusting. Once they arrive at their destination, the Frey household scoffs at Nan’s imperious claims that she is the lost Arya and, by the way, Lord Londrew better stop his peasant-cheating bullshit. Then several older Frey cousins remark that she is the very picture of Lady Lyanna Stark at the Tourney at Harrenhal, causing Lord Londrew turns courteous and welcome her to his home. (Nobody remarks on Nan’s direwolf, as she left Sharra to roam in the woods; she’ll risk her own life, but not her big pup’s.) Nan grandly agrees, even as Gendry grumbles through his teeth that they’re either planning to kill her for being the false Arya or being the real one.

They argue more after she’s shown to her chambers. He reminds her of the famous aborted Red Wedding; she reminds her that they’re both armed to the teeth and smarter than any Frey, plus she thinks they can find proof of Londrew’s dirty dealings to send to Lord Edmure Tully. Their argument “devolves” into some sexy lady/sworn sword roleplay.

Later that night, they’re both shocked when the Freys take Gendry captive (with some difficulty, of course). He has all the markings of a Robert Baratheon bastard, and Londrew thinks he can use him to cause trouble for Queen Daenerys in a Blackfyre Rebellion kind of way. Londrew locks him in a dungeon and Nan in her room. He reveals that he knows who Nan is: an outlaw who comes from nowhere and belongs to no one. He further taunts her with his intention to create false hope for the Starks and Tullys by informing them of “Arya’s” survival, and hopes out loud that they kill Nan out of anger when they learn the “truth.”

Gendry has a dark night of the soul. Spurred by his resentment at being abandoned by his father and used as a pawn by the Freys, he realizes that he isn’t helping himself or anyone else by merely existing in the Riverlands. Whether or not he ends up with Nan or does something with his discovery of his parentage, he has to take charge of his life by going to see Queen Daenerys himself...but first he has to survive this ordeal with the Freys.

Luckily, Nan has already made her escape, thanks to a combination of technical skills and the goodwill of several Freys who are downtrodden or too loyal to Roslin Frey to fuck with her husband’s family’s emotions like that. She springs Gendry from the dungeon; he helps in this endeavor by promising to put in a good word for them with the queen. Reunited, they flee into the night. Gendry tells her that he wants to marry her, whether Daenerys recognizes him as her cousin or not. Nan says she’ll marry him when he comes back; she privately believes he’ll change his mind if his status improves, but almost losing him to the Freys has taught her that refusing to care about him hurts more than letting herself love him. They make love one last time before parting ways, he for King’s Landing and she for Riverrun.

The Conclusion

Nan reaches Riverrun and begs an audience with Lord Edmure Tully, who accepts her request. As a lord who takes his obligations to his vassals seriously, he can appreciate her defense of the smallfolk despite her worrying outlaw status. Once he sees her, though, he’s bowled over by her resemblance to Brandon, Ned, Lyanna, and Benjen (plus the wolf), despite having reservations thanks to Catelyn’s harrowing experience with the false Aryas. Yet his reaction is nothing to Nan’s. Edmure’s Tully look brings back memories of Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon. Then she remembers Ned and Jon, the only ones who looked like her. And everything else comes back when she remembers Jon: Needle, Bran’s accident, the journey to King’s Landing, her terrible final fight with Sansa, her father’s death. Edmure and Roslin take pity on the disheveled young woman sobbing in their hall, and give her a bed and some ale before gently trying to sort everything out.

Meanwhile, Gendry arrives in King’s Landing. He visits Tobho Mott, now an old man, and learns that he was sent away for his own protection at Ned Stark’s command, not outright abandoned. Then he goes to Daenerys’s throne room to wait in line with the general population, When the time comes, he publicly announces who he is and pledges his loyalty, telling her bluntly that he’d rather go ahead and get eaten by her dragons than be endlessly used as a pawn and start another war like the one he lived through.

“Okay, respect,” Daenerys says, enjoying both the anti-oppression message and the drama. She has him taken to a more private chamber and, after find out his whole deal from Varys, meets with him. She reveals that she used to want to Kill All Baratheons, but then she realized that her family’s downfall was more nuanced than she’d been led to believe, plus it didn’t take her long to love her cousins Shireen Baratheon and Mya Stone. She’s happy to find another cousin, having known very little of family, and his loyalty means a great deal to her. Seriously, he can name the region and she’ll find him a castle or at least some unclaimed land. Does he want a title? A last name?

“Um,” says Gendry, utterly overwhelmed. “Is there anything near High Heart?”

At the same time, Nan/Arya has recovered enough from her shock to be merely completely wigged out. She doesn’t know if she can handle being Arya--she can barely handle being Nan--or if her family will even want the wild, haunted outlaw she’s become. And will Gendry want her as Arya Stark? Unsure what to do, she sneaks out of Riverrun, grabs Sharra/her namesake Nymeria, and rides like hell to High Heart.

Several days later, Gendry arrives at Riverrun, which is in an utter uproar. Edmure and Roslin are frantic about having possibly lost the real Arya; Brynden Tully is trying to get everyone to calm down so the fallout won’t be too bad when they find out she’s a fake; Jaime Lannister is lounging decadently around the great hall and grousing about how well the supposed Real Arya hid herself from him; and, most important, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are there, tense and worried.

“Wait,” says Gendry, “you’re telling me the Freys got something right for once?”

There’s another uproar when everybody realizes that this is the newly acknowledged Baratheon bastard, cousin to the queen, and that he’s been traveling alone with the Lost Arya. 

(“You better be prepared to marry her,” threatens Edmure. 

“Why?” Jaime asks. “She can do better.”)

Eventually, Jon and Sansa manage to speak to Gendry alone. They tell him how desperately they want Arya back, and how afraid they are that this won’t be her. Nobody’s even told Catelyn about this latest hope, because it will be too hard on her. They describe what Arya was like as a kid. Jon tells him how close they were; he’s missed her every day of his life since he went to the Wall. Sansa talks about how annoyed she used to get with Arya back then, and how stupid it all seems now; she’d give anything to see her sister’s messy hair and muddy face again. They’re both worried that, even if this is the real Arya, she won’t want to come back after so much time. But they would let her go, if that would make her happy.

With a sinking feeling, Gendry knows that the girl from their stories can’t be anyone but Nan. He also knows that a Stark lady is too highborn to marry a bastard, even an acknowledged one with royal connections. Still, he can’t keep the truth from her.

“That sounds like Nan,” he tells them. “Follow me. I’ll talk to her first.”

So they all head up to High Heart, where Nan/Arya has resumed her solitary existence. Sharra/Nymeria bounds out immediately and aggressively licks Jon and Sansa before going off to roughhouse with Ghost. Nan/Arya, though, refuses to come out of her hut; however, she reluctantly lets Gendry come inside. He tells her that she can be Nan or Arya or anyone else--she’ll be great no matter who she is, and he’ll love her. They can live in the woods or at the Inn with the orphans or in the castle the queen promised him. Or, if her family doesn’t mind, in Winterfell. Because they love her, too.

“How can they?” Arya demands. “You know what I’ve done, what I am. I was never what they wanted, and now? I’m an outlaw, and a killer, and I’m no one at all.”

At which point Sansa sweeps majestically into the hut, with Jon at her heels.

“You’re not no one,” she tells Arya. “You’re Arya Stark. My sister. And if I didn’t want you, it was because I didn’t know what it would be like to lose you.”

"And you’re a champion of the Riverlands, from what we hear,” says Jon. “Do you remember the sword I gave you?”

“Needle,” says Arya. 

Soon all three siblings are crying and hugging and, when Gendry tries to absent himself, Arya pulls him into the embrace.

“This is Gendry,” she tells her siblings. “He’s coming with us to Winterfell.”

The Epilogue

Arya, Gendry, Jon, and Sansa arrive at Winterfell, Ghost and Nymeria on their heels. Arya wonders aloud if she can find a way to be a lady and still be herself. “Probably,” says Gendry, “but you don’t have to be a lady to be Arya.” The conversation turns to how he’ll adjust to his life as the queen’s acknowledged cousin, including whether he’ll give himself a last name. Arya teases him about becoming “Gendry Stark,” but he says that sounds just fine to him, and she sees his point.

Finally, they get to Winterfell, and almost everyone is there: Robb, Bran, Rickon, Theon, Old Nan, Hodor, Maester Luwin, Princess Jeyne, Ygritte, and a passel of new nieces and nephews. And, of course, Catelyn, who practically falls on her long-lost daughter. They show her the place they’ve set for her at the table all these years, and she sits down with her family.

Subplots 

Twenty-two-year-old Sansa begins to feel restless after a few much-needed years of safety and stability with her family. Catelyn and Robb are both overprotective of her after her ordeal in King’s Landing, encouraging her to delay considering marriage for a few more years and getting nervous if she ventures outside the castle walls. She’s secretly fearful of the outside world herself, but she still wants to do something with her life. So she starts up a correspondence with her old friend/flirt Margaery Tyrell, who shares some highly interesting news about King’s Landing

Nineteen-year-old Bran similarly feels stifled by his well-meaning family, who tend to treat him as a child to some degree despite his physical/emotional maturity and the Very Real Psychic Shit he’s dealing with. (He and Sansa joke about it sometimes.) The arrival of Meera and Jojen Reed, two siblings around his age who know what he’s dealing with and are generally cool, make life a little easier to deal with. 

After a years-long exile as Queen Daenerys’s ambassador in Pentos, Tyrion Lannister returns to King’s Landing to be Hand of the King. He has a fearsome reputation as a killer, only partially earned, and a WHOLE lot of unresolved trauma. When Petyr Baelish approaches him with a crass offer to go into the brothel business together, Tyrion begins to suspect that something more sinister is afoot. Also, he’s not sure if Sandor Clegane wants to kill him or just really likes glaring at people. 

[hellcatchvalley]

before we lost our fairy tales

day 1: non-romantic pairing: kashaw vesh & vex’ahlia de rolo words: 3.5k+ summary: what starts off as small talk turns into something more and vex and kash realize they’re not so different from each other. notes: i had this random urge to write something awhile ago and then it aligned with @critrolerarepair week AND the first prompt!! so i gave a whack at it and hope u enjoy it <3 

[ao3]

When Zahra had asked Kashaw to go to Whitestone with her, he almost told her to 'fuck off.' Almost. 

"No offense, Zee, but it's not like that place holds a lot of good memories for me," he'd said on the way to the sky port. Zahra had rolled her eyes and patted his shoulder.

"Then it's a good thing we're not going for you then, isn't it darling?" She'd hummed, smiling innocently at his glare. "If it helps, you can just stare at me and avoid contact with everything else like you normally do."

He'd scoffed, and looked away, a small smirk on his face. "Business as usual then."

"Business as usual indeed," she'd replied.

So they'd flown over to the godforsaken cold country (courtesy of a few connections since the city's functioning sky port was still under construction) and within minutes of touching down Kash insisted on renting his room at an inn.

("I'm sure Vex'ahlia would allow us a guest room in the castle," Zahra had tried but he shook his head.

"Nope, a man needs his own place, Zee."

She'd shrugged a shoulder and headed for the castle herself. "Suit yourself, Mr. Man. Oh, and don't let the bedbugs bite your ass, dear." 

"I'll give them your regards.")

Her words had made him paranoid, and in the end he rented a small house not too far from the city's beloved Sun Tree. He had no idea how long Zahra was planning to stay, but he wasn't about to be uncomfortable for that amount of time either. 

For about three days, Kashaw hadn't seen even a glimpse of Zahra. He was sticking to his guns about not wanting to see any more members of Vox Machina, but after exploring the local market and now having a burlap sack's worth of souvenirs and fresh food, he knew he was getting bored.

Just as he's packing away some of the things he'd want to take back to Vasselheim into a burlap sack on his bed,  he hears a knock on his door. There's only one room in the entire place for the kitchen, wooden dining table and a bed up against the wall, so he calls out, "Who is it?"

The sing-song voice that responds makes his eye twitch. "Housekeeping!" 

Before he can tell her to go away, the door swings open to reveal the city's Lady and consistent thorn in his side called Vex'ahlia. Kash takes a deep breath before turning halfway around to look at his intruder. Despite her lavish quarters and series of titles, she's wearing hunting gear today, a bit of sweat on her brow and pieces of hair sticking out of her braid. There's a big smile on her face as she leans casually against the door frame and he stares at her.

"No, please, come in," He deadpans, turning back to what he was doing. She clicks her tongue and strolls in, and he doesn't bother teasing the idea that her boots aren't tracking dirt into his humble temporary home. 

"Cashew, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were avoiding us," she says, her voice coming up close behind him. "Zahra's been studying for days and we've still not seen a sign of you."

"You lose your eyesight in the weeks we've been gone? Because I'm pretty sure you're looking right at me," he says, still keeping his back facing her. 

"Oh, my apologies, I didn't realize how hairy you'd gotten after all this time! Such a shame, your eyes were such a pretty color." 

Kash rolls the aforementioned eyes, and finally gives her his full attention, crossing his arms.

Vex mock gasps in surprise, "It's a miracle! You've changed back!" 

As his frown gets deeper her smile only grows. She always was his least favorite twin. "How much would I have to pay to get you to change into your brother?" He asks, and she snorts, propping herself up onto the counter.

Vex leans back on her hands, crossing her feet at the ankles as if the place is hers (hell, it probably is. Vox Machina doesn't go ruining people's days for free, and Kash is still convinced the white haired guy gave her a city block already.) 

"If that's something within your power, you go first," she snaps back in easy banter. 

He ignores the comment. "To what do I owe this... Luxurious company? Did Zee send you?"

Vex's smile finally dims and she raises an eyebrow. "You can't really dislike us so much, Kashaw."

Kash nods in mock understanding. "You're right, I'm sorry-- I forgot the big heroes aren't used to that sentiment anymore." 

Vex chuckles and he smirks when he hears a bit of impatience in it. "You're such a dick." 

He shrugs. "It's in my job description, baby."

"Never call me that again."

"Then stop calling me Cashew."

"There isn't enough gold in the world."

"Wow, that’s a first." 

He dodges the bread roll she throws at his forehead and turns around to continue his packing. 

"Not for nothing, but you look like you fought an owlbear and won," he continues, for -gasp- lack of conversation. Zahra would be so proud.

"Just got back from one of my hunts," Vex explains, the wood of the table creaking as she swings her legs. "I'm the protector of this city, remember?"

"I try to block anything involving any of you out of my daily life, if that's alright with you," he mutters. and the bread roll hits its mark this time. "Stop wasting my bread - so what, you decide to visit me on the way back from your errands?"

"Yup," she says. "Because I'm just that nice."

He pauses to stare at the ceiling for a moment, begging for some god to give him strength and her giggles behind him don't help.

"Toss me the bread roll back, would you?" She asks, and he lunges it back without a glance, sucking his teeth when he hears her catch it perfectly. "Cheers, Cashew." 

The only sound in the room for awhile is the rustle of fabric as Kash continues to stuff things into his burlap sack, but for once in his life the silence isn't awkward. The small talk is unfamiliar, but he's almost okay with it. Despite only knowing her a short time, Kash felt that Vex was one of the few people in his life that knew when to shut up (most of the time anyway), and knew when silence would be better than the taste of foot in your mouth. Not that those who didn't know were so bad. They were just appreciated a little less. Sometimes.

He quashes the warm feeling spreading in his chest by clearing his throat, causing his guest to sit up straight and cross her arms. He pretends to ignore the way she's boring holes into the back of his shirt until he hears her inhale to speak.

"Cashew--"

He grumbles under his breath, "That's not my name--"

"Do you... Ever hear her sometimes?"

The protest dies on his lips and his shoulders tense. Oh great, a subject he's obviously not gonna wanna talk about. Now, this, this is familiar.  

He wonders how long she's been sitting on that question and pauses his packing. Unconsciously, he twists to his left to look at her through the corner of his eye. Or, well, Her eye. The glance is brief and he grunts and turns back to the bag, shrugging one shoulder. 

He tries to play it off. "Who, Keyleth? All the time, she never shuts up-"

"Cut the bullshit, Kashaw," Vex snaps, holding her crossed arms closer to herself and her gaze away from him. The sudden tone shift makes him drop any attempt at deflecting he was going to pull out. She continues in a quieter voice, so much that he's glad for the silence outside otherwise he'd have to ask her to repeat it, "You know who I mean."

Kash exhales sharply through his nose. He likes her idea of no eye contact and stares at the sack instead, gripping it tight in his hands. "I know exactly who you mean. I'm just wondering where the hell that question came from." 

She doesn't answer him for awhile, and he starts to really see the resemblance with her brother until-

"Did you... Have a choice? With her," Vex asks, the words leaving her lips kicking and screaming if her hesitation is anything to go by. "Did she give you one?"

Kash finally decides to man up and face her, grumbling all the way until he's perched on the bedside, mimicking her posture and crossing his arms. 

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that," He says, rubbing one palm against his forehead to ease the space between his eyebrows. Zahra said he'd look eighty by the time he turned half that if he didn't stop frowning. He'd flipped her off then but with the oncoming headache he was getting he was starting to see her point.

Vex rolls her eyes, already impatient with the pace of the conversation she started. 

"Your wife," she spits out, and he appreciates the contempt, "that creepy bitch that lives in your eye or some other weird godly shit. Do you ever hear her? In your head, I mean."

Kash puts his hand down and looks at her. She's biting the inside of her cheek, and her fingers pinch the edge of her sleeves, seemingly feeling the texture but he's been this fidgety before and knows that her hands have gone numb.

"What's this about, Vex?" He asks with an exasperated exhale, tone just as low as hers. He isn't good with emotions, but Vox Machina travel together too much not to pick up each other's habits. When they want to discuss something serious, they all start talking like rabbits who've lived for a thousand years -- solemn and small but get too close and you could spook them away from the entire conversation. He can relate to the feeling.

Vex lets out a soft laugh, lifting and dropping her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I don't know," she says, shaking her head and waving a hand. "You know what? Forget I ever said anything--"

"I do," Kash says before thinking. She goes still and turns her head to finally look at him, eyes wider and almost shimmering. He straightens his shoulders out and holds her gaze. "Hear her. When you've only got one follower, I guess you like to remind him you're there." 

She purses her lips and looks down at his feet, taking a deep breath. She nods and starts to twist her unkempt braid. "You remember when we went to the Feywild, right?"

"When you all went to the Feywild, you mean?" He rubs at his forearm with an unsettled frown. "Yeah, I was still getting blood out of my hair and had to sleep in the library."

She has the decency to wince. "Sorry about that."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Anyway," she continues, "when I got my bow, we had to fight this Feywarden, and he... He could see in my head." 

Kash raises an eyebrow. "And... how did he-

"I don't know how!" She explains, waving her hands and letting them land on her thighs. Bringing them back up to to rub at her face, she sighs and it reaches her bones. "Old magic or some other mythical shit - Fact is, he just. He knew things about me that I didn't want anyone to know. Things that I would've rather had been buried forever if I could help it." 

The hands come down and she moves back towards the wall the table was up against behind her to lean against it herself. "And the things that he'd said to me..." She trails off and looks more tired than he's ever seen her - and he's seen her dead. The line of her shoulders slump and he thinks that she'd lie on the floor if her pride allowed it. 

Still, he has to ask. Shifting his weight on the bed, he says, "Not that I try to understand anything any of you do, ever, but why are you telling me this?" 

The corner of Vex's mouth twitches up in a half hearted smile and she shrugs. "Maybe you just have one of those faces, Cashew." 

"I have a lot of faces and they all scream, 'don't talk to me,'" he says, and her smile breaks wide for only a moment before leaving just as soon. "Try again." 

Vex looks like she's debating something in her mind and she says, "Keyleth told me what happened to you." 

Kash frowns and kicks a little at the ground. "You mean she told you what I told her, anyway."

"Of course," Vex says quickly, sitting up a little straighter. She tilts her head, fixing her cunning half-elven gaze on his own and he has to look away. "I just thought that since you had lived with this... Darkness for so long, that you'd... I don't know, have some idea of how to get it to shut the fuck up."

Now he really has to snort. "If I knew how to get rid of voices I didn't want to hear," he says, "we wouldn't be having this conversation, trust me." 

"I'll drink to that," Vex agrees, patting the counter around for an invisible mug. 

He sighs again, and he wonders if there's a being out there that counts the amount of times he gets tired of talking in an hour. He hopes they're busy. 

He really doesn't want to talk about Her. He never has, and never will, and the room has felt ten times smaller ever since the pointy eared menace in front of him began talking, and the welts and scars on his arm burn under his skin and there's a migraine in his left eye and every hour he's ever spent training feels like nothing because he can barely hold himself up at even the thought of his betrothed and--

"Kashaw?" 

Vex's voice cuts through the monologue in his head and he opens his eyes, blinking frantically and scowling. 

"What, what, what do you want from me?" He snaps back because it's the only way he knows how, rubbing his temples. His hands are sweaty but his breath is dangerously calm, almost as if he hadn't bothered using it in the past couple minutes. Kash swallows the lump in his throat and only gets more irritated. Even after all this time he still can't shake the fear of her. 

Vex, still quiet in wake of all this, doesn't say anything and hops off the counter, wiping her hands on pants.

"I shouldn't have bothered you with this, I'm sorry-"

"Shut up and sit down, Vex, I'm getting there, okay?" Kash interjects, pushing the heel of his palms into his eyes. He doesn't need to see her to feel the cold stare fixated on him from his words but he hasn't cared about people's looks before and he sure won't now - not when she came to him.

"Vesh isn't a voice in my head," he starts, crossing his arms yet again. He's a man of few gestures. He's not avoiding Vex's eyes but chooses to look out the window instead anyway. "She's my wife. She gave me my scars, I gave me my scars, and now I'm stuck with her till I get the pleasure of dying and hopefully sealing her evil ass to a dimension even Bird Boy's lady can't reach."

"She's not just a voice, she's everywhere, and part of her is me," he says as plain fact. "Sure, she's all locked away now, but..." He shakes his head and squeezes his left forearm riddled in his wedding vows. 

"She doesn't always need to whisper in my head. There's shit she's done to me that I won't ever get back, things that were worse than-- And I wish-" His words break off and it takes him a minute to fight the urge to stop talking altogether, to swallow the bile building his throat, to quell the burn in his stomach that makes every inch of him sick. He bites the inside of his cheek nearly hard enough to draw blood and glares at the floor. "Part of me wishes she'd only killed my family, because, you know, that's what she gives me to wish for." 

The room is so silent he thinks his guest has left and he tears his eyes away from the floor. At this point Vex is across the table from him, and there's a recognition in her eyes that makes him pause. Her hands subtly clutch at her sides and it's there, that fight-or-flight Vox Machina guarantee. Her shoulders are raised, she has a foot stepped back and he can tell she's holding her breath from the way her eyes stare not at him but past him, a little further than the surface. 

Kash takes a deep breath and stands up to his full height, closing his eyes. He tries to calm his nerves, which he's never been good at but has never failed to try, and rubs the back of his neck. When he opens them again, her hands are tucked to her chest, and she's looking at the ground again. 

"Something tells me... You already know about something like that," he says, so low and quiet that he isn't sure she heard. Vex shifts a little and moves her head slightly enough to recognize as a nod and he sighs. 

"This world fucking sucks," he mutters for good measure, and there's a little exhale from Vex's nose that sounds enough like she agrees. They stand without saying anything, each reevaluating whoever they see across from them. 

Vex opens her mouth to speak first, "I--"

 "Look," Kash interrupts, holding a hand up, "I know you came to me for... Some kind of help, and I'm not going to lie - that was pretty dumb because, like I keep telling you people, I don't know what the hell I'm doing either but..." There's a small smile on her face again and Kash figures he's doing something right so far. He takes a step towards her and uncrosses his arms.

"There are memories in my head that I don't even know who's are whose, or which ones actually happened, but I do know one thing about the bastards that won't leave us alone." He leans forward, and as he does, he lifts his hand and lets it hover, ignoring the way his fingers tense and tremble. Vex chews her bottom lip and, hands still close to her heart, squeezes her fingers twice before exhaling a shaky breath and reaching out to take his hand. Kash lets both of them rest on the table between them, and moves his head until he's sure that they're eye to eye. 

"The voice in my head, and the voice that stays in yours? They lost a long damn time ago, because their first mistake was sticking around," he says, and Vex's are eyes strong and forward. "Life, remember? The dead don't grow. We do."

Vex looks away from his face down at their hands and he pretends not to notice how quickly she wipes at her eyes. She shakes her head solemnly and there's a small smile on her face.

"You know, I'm starting to understand where Keyleth was coming from," she says softly.

"Gross," he says at full volume, and she breaks into a laugh so infectious he can't help but join her. When they finally calm down she lets go of his hand and moves some of her hair out of her face, standing up tall and just as confident as she walked in. He does the same and they have a brief battle of the eyebrow raise before he breaks.

"Well," he starts, exhaling and feeling like he's run a mile. "You get everything you wanted?"

Vex clears her throat and pats his cheek, very reminiscent of their tiefling friend. 

"I did! A very nice talk we had here, Kashaw," she hums, taking a step back. There's still some dirt on her face and Kash stares at it before grabbing the top of her head with one hand and rubbing the other on her cheek. She protests at the rough treatment but he eventually gets it off and lets her go, leaving her huffing with one cheek redder than the other. 

"What the hell was that?!" She complained, holding the side of her face. He only offers her a shrug in response and she rolls her eyes, stomping to the front door.

"Gods, I'm never letting you hang out with my brother ever again," she mumbles, opening the door and looking back at him. 

He stares at her in question and she gestures for him with her head. 

"You're coming with me," she says, her tone not accepting any refusals.

"Says who?" He scoffs.

"The Lady of this motherfucking city, that's who," she declares, puffing out her chest and holding an arm out for him. She even sticks her nose in the air and he thinks she's having way too much fun. "Now get the hell out of this property and join us for dinner."

Kash groans and huffs and grumbles all the way out the door, protesting when she kicks him in the butt for good measure, but the laugh she lets out when he reaches for her makes him feel a little less reluctant. Definitely his least favorite twin. 

[stunudo]

Closing Time: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction AU

Featuring: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Warning: Smut

Requested by: Anonymous

“ You don't have to write it but can you write a little au oneshot where Emily is a bartender and she owns the bar but is covering for the bartender who usually is there. And she meets this girl and the girl stays with her until the bar closes and something smutty happens? Thnx.💕”       

Image is from fanpop.com

A/N: I tried limited third person, I usually write second person for insert fiction. Let me know if it makes sense. xoxo Stu

Your name: submit What is this?

It was a Friday night in the middle of August, a night where the humidity radiates from the stonewalls of the old buildings. Through the heavy alley entrance, she slid her key into the lock, grimacing with effort. All of Emily’s thoughts were how she had had enough. She was done with Trish’s excuses, for the way the other bartenders and servers covered for her and her crappy attitude. As owner of Caps & Tabs for three years, Emily had dealt with her fair share of shady employees. But Trish had earned her dismissal like a stretched out sports bra: something that served no purpose besides a reminder of past dedication and support.

Emily stormed into the back office and hung up her coat, locking her purse in the desk. Shady employees were expected, even thieves showed up to their shifts. Emily rolled her shoulders and double checked her make up. If she was going to be pouring tonight, she wanted to make it worth it. Smiling at her self she nodded in agreement, these suckers weren’t ready for the boss or her generous drinks.

Y/N didn’t know why she had gone out in the first place. Her roommates were drunk before they even made it to the bar, plus all they wanted to do was play darts and be obnoxious. She stabbed the ice in her pint glass with her cocktail spear, the fruit already consumed. The music from the live band was making up for the despondent feeling plaguing her.

She hummed along to the familiar covers and swayed as the music and the alcohol washed over her. Sam, her best friend sauntered over smiling.

“Nice to see, somebody is finally relaxing!” He stood next to the stool she sat on, casually nodding at the barkeep, holding up his drink to signal for a second. Or was it his third? The woman’s dark eyes catching everything, her easy smile acknowledging the request.

“This bands good.” Y/N smiled at her old friend. “You going to dance with me?”

“Nah, I’m on the prowl. Don’t want to give off any straight vibes tonight.” Sam smiled, paying for his next round with cash.

“Dancing to oldies doesn’t scream hetero, you know.” Y/N teased, only slightly disappointed.

“True, but the guy across the bar is eying yours truly as we speak.” Sam winked off to the crowd closest to the entrance. “Don’t look, god, Y/N!”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Rico Suave, you go flirt with strangers. I’m good here.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Watch out for Jacki?” He squeezed her shoulder and strolled away. She sat humming again, watching Jacki wipe the floor with the guys near the pool table. Their roommate was gorgeous, tall and toned yet extremely feminine. Y/N admitted to having a small crush on Jacki when she first moved in, but her personality drove those feelings away quickly. Jacki was also as straight as they come, and her fuck boys come and go just as quickly.

Emily knew Fridays were the busiest day of the week, but seeing her staff hustle hour after hour made her appreciate them more. She bantered with the regulars and dismissed the few people looking for Trish. She may not be handing out free drinks, but Emily Prentiss didn’t skimp on the alcohol. The band finished their set just before eleven and the closing DJ was setting up.

With the nightlife crowd trickling in and the happy hour crowd easing out, Emily collected tips and swapped tills. The less money to count at the end of the night, the quicker everyone got home. She carried the drop bags and the used till into the office. She noticed a woman on her phone lingering near the bathrooms, she shrugged and kicked the door closed behind her.

The woman was still there huffing and pacing when Emily left the office, preparing for the insanity that was to come. After deciding against it, Emily turned on her heeled boot and approached the woman. “Everything alright? Do you need a ride?”

The woman didn’t look up at first, but mumbled dejectedly. “Uh, no, I should be fine. Just waiting on my roommates.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’m bar tending all night. Names Emily. I run this place.”

“Oh gosh, no it’s okay. No big deal. But, yeah, thanks.” She was embarrassed, but Emily smiled in relief. “My name’s Y/N, just in case, you wanted to know.” Emily could finally see the moping woman’s features. Her face relaxing to reveal a timeless beauty. She smiled shyly at the bar owner now.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I will see you around.” Emily chuckled gently and made a smooth exit. Pretty girls were not something she was planning on distracting her tonight, but what could she do? She liked saving people.

Y/N secluded herself in the hallway between the bathrooms and the backdoor for another few minutes, trying to muster up the courage to talk to the hot woman with the dark hair. Jacki had been texting her on and off to appear aloof to the dude bros she was flirting with all night. She really didn’t want to entertain her tipsy roommate all night, but she was keeping an eye out for Jacki anyway. Friends are underrated creatures.

Y/N straightened her shoulders and marched to the bar, waiting coyly on a stool closer to the back than the dance floor. Y/N smiled at the other employees, reassuring herself that the boss lady had initiated contact. She waited until there was a wide opening for the porcelain woman’s attention.

“Mind if I place an order?” She grinned.

“By all means, Y/N. What can I get you?”

“How about Sex on the Beach?”

“It gets so messy though.” She winked and started pouring.

“I take what I can get.”

Emily tisked at the bit of desperation that trailed into the joke. “I think you deserve the best around,” She handed her a tall glass, “Enjoy.”

“Can you put it on my tab? It’s a Visa.” Y/N dropped a five in the tip jar.

“You’re taken care of tonight.” Emily’s eyes drew Y/N into a whirlwind of daydreams. The fantasies coming with each stolen glance or tossed away smirk. She nursed the cocktail and ignored the buzzing of her phone.

Emily hadn’t used her office for after hours meetings since purchasing the bar from her uncle. In these past few years, she had done a lot of maturing while learning the ins and outs of small business managements. Right now, all she was worrying about was learning the ins and outs of Y/N’s clothes. The bar shut off the lights on the few people still chatting over an hour ago. Her bartenders and servers had cleaned up. Emily had walked Y/N into her office after securing the safe, pouring both of them another cocktail.

The bar owner’s lips were gliding over the young woman’s collarbone, slipping her leather jacket over her bare shoulders. Emily trailed kisses back up her exposed neck, resting her prominent nose before Y/N’s ear. “I could take you right here. But I think we would be much more... comfortable, at my place.”

Y/N had her eyes closed, her head rolled forward to catch Emily’s mouth in a wanton kiss. “Lead the way.” Emily linked her fingers with the no longer shy woman’s and headed out the through the back alley.

Y/N was relieved to find that Emily Prentiss lived one block away from her beloved bar. Her airy apartment was covered in wooden floors, framed band posters and abstract art. Y/N didn’t register any of these details until the following morning. Tonight, she was fiercely kicking off her sandals and groping Emily’s ass. It was a scramble to remove their attire and continue the heavy petting that had sent them stumbling towards the bedroom.

Emily’s bed was covered in a dark duvet that was haphazardly draped over itself. Y/N was impressed with the size of the room and the headboard. Emily’s tiny waist kept drawing Y/N’s grasp. Their mouths left imprints on each other, lipstick, love bites, paths backtracked and followed again. Y/N was savoring Emily’s breasts as they fell onto the generous mattress.

Y/N didn’t have many coherent ideas running through her head besides the sensations and images that were all Emily. One fleeting thought told her that going out tonight was one of the best things that had happened to her in a long time. Emily rolled Y/N on to her back, tracing her body in teasing licks.

Emily’s mouth was flawless and merciless, Y/N was a whimpering heap before long. Emily’s skillful fingers traced the reaches of Y/N’s sex, pulling her orgasm from her core. Her tongue lavished Y/N’s searing arousal. Emily wasn’t done with this gorgeous woman yet. Her firm grip, drew Y/N’s hips to hers. Emily enjoyed grinding as long as she got to set the rhythm. Y/N’s sensitized slit collided with Emily’s and they rocked each other over the next precipice.

Their tongues found each other, dancing and tasting until they became a new flavor together. Y/N’s hands had taken over Emily’s momentum, driving the bar owner to a level of blinding pleasure. The connection was rapturous, these women who met in a set of circumstances between annoyance and devotion. Emily’s breath hitched as she whined Y/N’s name into the sticky night air. The sounds of the city faded from their ears as their bodies melted into a dreamless slumber.

@emilyfuckingprentiss @gubl-oser @reidbyers @dontshootmespence @emilyprentissdaily @treatmelikeadamnprentiss