#divine victoria angst

[flowersonpebbles]

Thursday Week 2: Legacies 10. Friendship

@elfroot-and-laurels

TW: angst, character death, a lot of emotions

word count: 1 925

Jowan – A scribbled note found in the Circle tower of Ferelden, where an apostate had stayed and slept – paper covered with smeared blood and tears, discovered 9:30 Dragon whilst cleaning the tower after the horrific happenings. “I am afraid for what will happen today… Dallas I know will trust me, will help me… but I feel awful for having to lie to him and Lilly. But he will forgive me if he is to ever learn the truth, maybe not immediately, but eventually… I hope… I cherish our friendship too much to not work for his forgiveness…”

Alistair – An official letter, written with careful handwriting but there are stains looking akin to tear drops here and there, discovered in Vigil’s Keep 9:38 Dragon. “Respected Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander, I hope this letter finds you well. I also hope you can forgive me for being such a selfish man many years ago… I let grief color my judgement. But I think I am happy, trying my best to make a difference where I can, with influence to actually achieve it sometimes. And I owe it to you. Anora and I even grew to love each other… it is very bitter sweet sometimes, albeit. But we fill in each other where one lacks skill, it is… fulfilling. I know the Inquisition is in search of you, for what I do not know but I am cautious for you, I can only hope this letter reaches you in time, or that you’re already gone from where they can find you. Kindest regards, King Alistair Theirin.”

Morrigan – A neatly written first page in an otherwise empty journal not accidentally left behind in a worn, familiar backpack, discovered after killing the archdemon, “My dear friend, as we had discussed, I am gone now. But I hope your thirst for knowledge like my own can be documented in this journal I leave for you… I cannot thank you enough for the journey and our friendship. It will all stay precious to me.”

Lamb – A worn blanket left behind in an inn’s room, smelling strongly of embriums and lotuses for the friend who stood beside him til the end and who should now protect his soulmate in his stead, 9:49 Dragon.

Leliana – A book well loved and filled to the brim with songs, poems and stories, all written with utmost care. A last page entry of it though – end of 9:31 Dragon: “We finally part ways. I am saddened to do so but he wishes to venture far and I have a new duty. Something to help the world even further. Our memories together will always be dear to my heart, I was lucky to have met such an amazing person who let me help!”

Sten – Orders written in qunlat, page neatly folded and writing perfect, signed by the Arishok found in 9:44 Dragon. “The Warden-Commander of Ferelden, infamous Hero of Ferelden, should not be harmed in any manner if he is to be found among places to be conquered. If he wishes to protect any dwellers in a location, rather fall back. Highly dangerous – do not engage. Inform me immediately if he comes into play.”

Wynne – A journal entry in well keep book, the last page having tear and blood drops upon it, but is later ripped out and sent to Vigil’s keep, the entry was on 9:39 Dragon, “I feel weary, I think my time is nearing. I think fondly of our journey together, your questions always so odd to me. But I’ve grown to question more and more things myself, all thanks to you, Dallas. I am not sure if I’ll have the pleasure to see you again but I wish you well. I hope and Zevran have found happiness by each other’s sides.”

Zevran – A letter sent in desperation, hurried writing with inked smudgings indicating tear drops, sent and received 9:49 Dragon, “Dearest Leliana, or should I address you as Divine Victoria now? My dearest, I beg with utmost urgency aid in searching for our friend, Dallas. You see, he left in the middle of the night, Lamb is still with me. But even he is struggling to find our Dallas… I was hoping maybe you could help with that… I must speak plainly. He holds my heart; my very soul and I do not wish for him to perish alone. I owe him more than that. Yours kindly, Zevran Arainai.”

Oghren – A solemn journal entry in an old journal, dated 9:35 Dragon, “Little Dallas is grown and running around, belching like his pa. He even got red hair like me and the Warden-Commander! Felsi ain’t looking too great lately, got me worried. But I myself haven’t slept great, maybe that’s why she looks so tired all the time? Damned darkspawn… never thought a dwarf could have nightmares. Yet here we are. Hoping to report back to Dallas when he gets back so I could maybe ask for some help. He’s a smart cookie, after all.”

Loghain – A letter written in haste even though the neatness is tried to be kept, sent 9:41 Dragon after the Grey Wardens were welcomed by the Inquisition, “Warden-Commander Dallas, I am unsure where to send this to. I entrust our old ally, Leliana to send it to you along with all the other letters I have been meaning to send but I did not know where to reach you. She might know where – or when she does learn where they’ll be sent. We have broken free of Corypheus for the most part. We are aiding the Inquisition in rebuilding what we can to help atone for what has transpired… I know well how trying to help in exaggeration can be too extreme… I hope only to be of a soothing hand to their shame. Yours faithfully, Loghain Mac-Tir”

Bethany – A panicked last journal entry in a beloved diary of Bethany Hawke, 9:30 Dragon, “I worry for my siblings. They left to fight against the darkspawn, to help the King in the battle… Emikka will look after Carver though. I fear still… and I have a bad feeling for what has yet to come for us all… I know Emikka will help us through it all though. Wait, is that her I’m hearing outside? Did the win already?” ink is then spilled on the rest of the blank page, also ruining other mages, obviously the book had been shut whilst ink was still wet.

Carver – A letter sent in response to his sister’s request to be sent away, 9:41 Dragon, “Emikka, I left Ferelden as you requested. I just think it unfair that you let Loghain stay back and I’m made to leave. But I have safely arrived in Antiva City… Sister, you need to see it. Its bloody gorgeous and I think I could’ve even taken Merril on a date here. Please stay safe, I’m not sure why you even trust this Inquisition. But I do trust you. Write back soon, you better stay alive too. You still have your piece of the jade, yeah? Keep it close. I have a bad feeling… Nug has also been restless lately, he misses you. Your brother, Carver.”

Nug – 9:39 Dragon a well-loved stuffed tug toy was given to a brother to look after his sister’s mabari until the three of them can reunite again.

Aveline – 9:38 Dragon a letter was sent with a copper coin with marigolds on it, “I hope this finds you well, Hawke. I know you’re on the run, I know you’re trying to help people who need it. I just wanted you to know that Leandra is born. And I hope… now more than ever, the world she grows up in will see her be free of demons and a tower for her whole life. I will keep our city safe until you can return. Remember we miss you. And Hawke? Thank you. Aveline.”

Varric – 9:41 Dragon six different letters were sent out after the siege of Adamant Fortress written with great dread, grief and many tear stains and ink smudges. “Little Hawke, your sister was glad to have gotten your response before we left to siege Adamant Fortress… She only started writing a response but I’m still sending it with my letter. I think it only right you have it… I’m so sorry… It was all my fault. I should have never asked her for help… She… she stayed back in the Fade to let others escape… to let others live. Loghain also sends his deepest regrets to you, Junior. Varric” “Aveline, what I’m about to tell you… tell Gamlen for me too, if you could so kindly. Hawke was left behind on a mission to let others survive that were… necessary in her eyes. I wish I was there… I wish I could’ve stopped her… It’s a big mess, I’m so sorry… Send my regards to Donnic and Leandra, my regrets to Gamlen. Varric Tethras.” “Fenris, Emikka died on a mission. I don’t even know if you’ll be able to read this, hopefully you get someone who can read it to you then. I was such an idiot… I’m so sorry… Your friend, Varric” “Daisy, I’m telling you this with great caution. Hawke was left behind in the Fade to let others get out alive. Don’t go doing something stupid though, you hear me? She would want us all to go on living. Who knows, hopefully she can get out on her own… that’s possible, right…?” “Rivaini, I’m running out words, at least the ale is stopping the tears. Hawke… Hawke stayed back for others to live… I’m… it was my fault for asking her for help… Varric” “Blondie, by Andraste… you and Daisy, I don’t even wanna tell either of you but… Hawke was left behind in the fade… It hurts so much… it was my fault... again… how can we even begin to fix this, Blondie…?”

Fenris – A shakily written letter sent 9:41 Dragon, a few drops of blood at the corner. “Do not trust this new thing trying to recruit you. Listen to Varric and do not go where I cannot follow, Emikka. The jade piece I have will miss yours. Your love, Fenris”

Merril – A letter covered in scribbles, runes with elfroot leaves attached was sent on 9:39 Dragon, “Hawke, I hope this fighting ends soon. The elves following me grow weary. The Templars grow more aggressive. I fear our fates, but I do not know what to do other than hide in forests I know well, it is much more defensible. But it grows too cold for them… I hope you and Anders are fairing better than we are. Merril.”

Isabella – A letter written neatly with a pretty blue feather attached to it, sent 9:41 Dragon, “Hey, beautiful. Heard some kind of Inquisition has you roped in? Varric said he needed your help, right? Just behave yourself and come back with some shiny trinkets of theirs, alright? My jade has been missing yours too. Stay safe, pretty. Much love, Isabella”

Anders – A crumpled piece of paper with singes at the edges and a torn edge was sent 9:40 Dragon, “Hawke, I know we split up to try and get the Templars off my back, and the other apostates. But I fear for what is yet to come. I will die for our freedom. But not everyone wants to, I know that now… Have I doomed us all, or was it going to happen without me nether the less? Stay safe, old friend. Anders.”

[broodwoof]

Happy Fridayyy for DADWC, how about "i'm thinking less flattering things now." for Solas/Cassandra?

i am on an angst kick tonight :') @dadrunkwriting 491 words cws: none

“The two of you…” Delwyn said, trailing off with a vague gesture. A one-handed gesture, which was simply another facet of the layered guilt which gnawed at Cassandra. Divine Victoria, she corrected herself dryly and habitually. Did all Divines mourn the loss of their name as Cassandra did? She was grateful, in a way, to lose the length of her name, but she still felt oddly adrift without it. 

A pointless consideration, a distraction her weak mind sought, attempting to distance herself from this conversation which she desperately did not want to have. 

“The two of us,” she agreed heavily, taking care to not look at the place where the Inquisitor’s left arm was meant to be. She should have realized, should have recognized something was amiss, that Solas was more than a simple apostate.

Well. She'd already known that. Over time, frustration had shifted to appreciation; from appreciation to affection. And from affection to…

She couldn't love someone like him. It was bad enough before—her, a Seeker, or ex-Seeker, and him, an elven mage. Her, dedicated to the Chantry, with a strong faith in the Maker and Andraste, him a…

He couldn't be a god. According to the Inquisitor, he denied being one. But what was he, then? The power he wielded now, putting their entire world at risk? If he was a god, she rather thought he'd become the vengeful kind. But it was impossible to imagine.

He'd always been so gentle. Firm, opinionated, willing to push hard against her preconceptions, but she'd liked that. Enjoyed being challenged, even when it frustrated her. And when it had spiraled into something different, something more… she had welcomed that change, strange though it had been. Recalled now laughing in his embrace, the quizzical sound he'd made, tilting her head up to explain how utterly surreal it all felt. His smile.

She had thought it wry. Now she wondered if it wasn't something else entirely, but it was so easy to cast doubt, to ascribe motivation and clarity in retrospect, even if the moment had held nothing of that nature.

“I told him we wouldn't stop. That we wouldn't give up on him. I still feel that way, even after—” here Delwyn shrugged her left shoulder, her meaning clear. 

She was so young. Cassandra had tried to ignore that: first, a youthful prisoner; next, a young Herald. Finally, the Inquisitor herself, the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I won't lie, I want him back. I want the man I loved back. But if need be…”

“It won't come to that,” Delwyn insisted, and Cassandra—Victoria—smiled to hear it. As determined now as she had ever been. 

“I am thinking much less flattering things about him now,” she remarked dryly, startling a snort out of Delwyn. Which was something of a victory in itself. “But, yes, I would see him back.” With me, she did not add. Did not need to add. Because she loved him. She still loved him.

[illusivesoul]

A Letter of the Divine

Summary: A letter found in the office of Divine Victoria shortly after her disappearance. Relationship: Leliana/Female Brosca Words: 671 Read on AO3 Lots of angst ahead lol

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The following letter was found amongst the few possessions left behind by Divine Victoria following her sudden disappearance. Due to the nature of the letter, its existence shall not be revealed to the general public for the foreseeable future. In the unlikely event of a movement developing to support the Divine or if the Inquisition tries to make a political move, the contents of this letter, after being made even more unpalatable to the common people, shall be revealed and distributed as far and wide as we are able.

Serena Brosca

My Queen of Stone

You warned me about how going down this route would only bring me pain, and I ignored you, for even as much as you made my heart beam with joy from every smile you gave me, I couldn't let you dictate what my faith commanded me to do, just as I couldn't dictate what you did with yours.

I wish I had stayed at your side to help you handle the treacherous waters of Orzammar's politics, politics that you shook to the core by becoming a Paragon and allowing the casteless into your House. House Brosca. How proud I was for you when it happened. How blind I was to not see the dread and pain you felt when hearing those words. "I got my house by standing on top the corpses of my people, Leliana. A House for the Casteless earned by drenching my hands in their blood". But how could you not enjoy the power? How could you not see you had the world at your feet? How very naïve of me.

I've kept count of the time passed since we last wrote to each other. I've tracked every second since I last saw your face, since I last saw your lips curving into a smile when I sang for you. How much I have longed for the feeling of your hands of mine, your breasts on my back, your mouth on my skin, our bodies joined in perfect harmony as they sang promises to each other that my excess of pride and the pride you lacked never let us have. I held the world in my hands whenever I held you in them, and I let you go. To serve the faith, to serve the Maker. Well, Justinia is dead, the Maker laughs at me and all the grieving people in this broken word as always. Some god he turned out to be. At least your Paragons are there for you to feel and touch, the solid stone more real than my endless prayers to the dark. Thought that I had what it took to set things right. The blank slate. And in the end all I did was drown myself in a sea of blood and a world of lies, and Thedas quakes in chaos, the Chantry and the faith more broken by my actions than by anything Corypheus or Tevinter ever did. At long last I finally understand the meaning of your words. I also got my own House by drenching my hands in blood.

I've been drinking so much as of late, giving way to base desires to try to find something to make me feel alive, something to make me forget of all the damage I've done and keep doing... and every time I always end up thinking of you.

Perhaps my absent Maker or your Paragons will let us see each other again one day, and maybe then will you be able to forgive me for all I did and for how much I failed you, but life has taught me better than to hope for the impossible. I just hope that wherever you are, that you have found the peace, happiness and love you deserve and that I tried but failed to give you. I now dream of the cliff of my dreams, and I hear the rocks and waves of distant lands calling my name. One last song remains to be sung.

Forever yours, Your Leli

[myth-blossom]

I'm definitely wanting something real angsty! Could you do Hold On by Chord Overstreet?😁

Hi Issy! Thank you for the song request—my apologies for the long delay, but I think I delivered on your request with some Absolution angst :)

Enjoy! <3

The church was of modest size and fairly popular with the locals, its walls weathered but still well-maintained by the loving hands of its flock. 47 was lucky to find the place when he did, choosing to extend their stay in the new city so he could do what he had yet to make time for since his world fell apart. It was unwise to stick around in the same place for long—the ICA was still after Victoria and fortune favored frequent travel—but it was something he needed to do.

He never let Victoria accompany him despite her many requests to do so. She wouldn’t understand why he needed to visit the church every day alone, why he would light one of the small beeswax candles on the iron stand and offer a silent prayer in Diana’s memory. He would settle into an empty pew afterwards and stare ahead as he felt the eyes of saints and angels look down upon him with judgment, the silver coin gripped tightly in his fist. Sometimes he would pray silently on his behalf, though he wouldn’t ask for much. Miracles were hard to come by in this day and age, and God knew he didn’t deserve one.

Would his devout mourning matter to her, he wondered, or would Diana think him foolish? Surely she would hate him for what he had done to her. Perhaps she would enjoy seeing him suffer like this, aimless and burdened with regret, any hope for forgiveness lost in the ether. 

Congregants would occasionally bustle through the nearby confessional, exposing their various sins and seeking forgiveness from above, but not 47. He couldn’t bring himself to approach the booth, not after what he did, not after seeing her blood stain his hands. Rumors gathered about his character as he avoided confession, rumors that failed to go unnoticed by his heightened level of perception.

…must be a gangster…

…maybe he’s undercover…

…he just lost his wife…

47 would feel the coin dig sharply into his palm at that. Widower was what he heard often amongst their gossip. It added salt to an already festering wound, but he never sought to address their theories. Their whispers and the growing loneliness they caused was simply penance for his greatest sin.

It took a couple of weeks before church staff approached him as he was leaving the pew and gently urged him to go to confession. Perhaps you’ll find the peace you seek. 47 considered ignoring the man, but decided to visit the confessional before leaving. Inaction could lead to more unwanted attention upon his next visit, and he wasn’t quite ready to end his daily practice just yet.

47 pocketed the coin and knelt on the small cushion facing the screen, clasping his raised hands before him out of old habit. It took him barely a moment to realize something about the confessional was off. The old wicker pattern of the screen hindered his visibility of the other side, but he could determine by the hazy silhouette that it most certainly wasn’t the priest. And there was a scent he recognized, a fragrance so fresh and lightly floral that it easily masked the smells of aged wood and musty fabric of the worn cushion beneath him. It was a comforting scent, something unique that he thought he wouldn’t experience ever again.

His hands slowly dropped to the wooden bar in front of him. A familiar hand slipped through the gap beneath the screen, her slender fingers threading with his trembling ones. Diana gave him a gentle squeeze as he bent forth, resting his forehead on the soft reassuring warmth of her hand. He bowed his head in thanks, in reverence, a sinner blessed by the divine. 

His prayer had been answered.

[ao3feed-narlie]

swap me for your shadow

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/baviD9S by shootingforthestars what happens when things in your life don't go according to plan? what happens, for example, if you were a professional rugby player, and suddenly injuries, and now you're not? what do you do? what kind of future can you make from this present? how much is your past going to keep intruding? (the overuse of questions here isn't a mistake--you'll find the same in the fic itself. just pretend i'm an old, kindly philosopher sitting on a mountaintop somewhere and i'm determined not to tell you any answers, but rather seek them together...) Words: 6409, Chapters: 2/11, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Jane Spring, Oliver "Olly" Spring, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, David Nelson (Heartstopper), Sarah Nelson, Victoria "Tori" Spring, Michael Holden (Solitaire), Harry Greene, Tao Xu, Elle Argent, Tara Jones, Darcy Olsson, Julio Spring, original but not overly important coworker and former partner characters Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Elle Argent/Tao Xu, Tara Jones/Darcy Olsson, Jane Spring/Julio Spring, Sarah Nelson/Stéphane Nelson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aged-Up Character(s), Museums, Meet-Cute, Therapy, London, Paris (City), Plot Twists, no i'm not going to tell you in the tags, what kind of sense would that make, tori spring as embodiment of divine wisdom, Angst with a Happy Ending, a journey back and forth through time, who is surprised? exactly no one read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/baviD9S

[super-unpredictable98]

https://at.tumblr.com/super-unpredictable98/do-you-think-klausstandards-are-really-high/tid8iygn00gt

Inch-resting . Doesn't that create problems in monogamy for him? Even if he doesn't cheat, just subconsciously starting liking someone else who seems to value you will create problems imo?

Taking this opportunity to ask for Klicky angsttt where Klaus genuinely has a crush on someone else - just someone he looked up to (like a teacher or anyone) eho validated him and had some thoughts but decided against it because he loved vicky a lot more .

Far From The Eyes, Close To The Heart | The Umbrella Academy AU

Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (OC - The Eighth Child’ Verse)

Word Count: 1,2 k

Warning: Strong language, angst

a/n: Yes! I believe he has issues with monogamy because he never really understood his feelings and what love is supposed to feel like. Thanks for the amazing suggestion and I love the ship name Klicky. Hope you like it <3

(Masterlist)

It had been over a year since Klaus fell into that alleyway and found himself completely lost in Dallas. Just as he managed to confess his feelings to Vicky... Of course that would happen, the little girl on the bike must really not like him.

Even though it didn't seem like he would ever meet any of his siblings again (except for Ben of course), a little voice in his head still held him back, saying they were still out there. Vicky was still out there waiting for him. Whenever he saw anything beautiful, he couldn't help remembering her and sometimes it would bring tears to his eyes.

The cult was full of attractive people who would most likely be willing to have sex with their leader. Sometimes it occurred to him the thought of sleeping with them, but always at the last second, he couldn't. He even failed to... get it up a few times, which he attributed to divine intervention. 

What really got him going was the memory of the few times he got to be with Victoria. He still remembered perfectly, the taste of her lips, the softness of her skin, the smell of her perfume. He remembered that electric sensation when she first kissed him in Vietnam, the excitement of waking up next to her, the whispered conversations they had when they thought the world was ending.

"Be alive, be alive, be alive..." he mumbled. It was taking longer than it did in Vietnam, it was getting harder and harder to hold out hope every day that passed.

"How long are you gonna stay out here pretending to meditate?" a voice called him as he sat under a tree next to the mansion. They had just returned from Greece and Klaus decided to buy the engagement ring, even though he didn't know if she would ever get to wear it.

"Hey, Justin," he turned around with a sad smile. "Why don't you sit down?"

Justin was a young man in his late 20s, tall and muscular, with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a nose that seemed sculpted and a velvety voice that could make anyone tremble. He wasn't technically part of the Destiny's Children, he was there simply because his younger (and much more gullible) brother, Matthew, decided to join about four months before that conversation took place.

He knew it was a cult, but Matthew didn't see it that way, so Justin followed wherever his brother went to protect him as they were both orphans since Justin was just a teenager. 

"Why do you say I'm pretending to meditate?" Klaus asked.

"Because I never heard the mantra be alive, it sounds more like a prayer."

"It is, but it doesn't mean I'm not meditating on it."

"Who are you praying for?" Justin asked. 

"My siblings, I think you know how that feels. I haven't seen them in so long."

Justin nodded. He didn't believe Klaus was a prophet, he didn't even believe the man knew what he was talking about most of the time, but he recognized a good person under all the bullshit and his crazy facade. That knowledge quickly turned into attraction, which quickly turned into a crush.

"I do, are you orphans too?" 

"Yeah, our father died just a while back and our mom... was crushed when our house collapsed."

"Really? Or is that more bullshit?"

"It's true. If you think all I say is bullshit then why are you still here?"

"You know why."

"Because of Marcus."

"Matthew," Justin corrected with a chuckle. "Yeah, him too."

Klaus noticed how the man looked at him, he knew that look well and it usually brought a cocky smirk to his face, but it was more complicated this time. 

First, there was Dave, then there was Vicky. Too many times he had his heart broken. Even though, he couldn't help imagining what it would be like being with Justin. A nice guy with his life somewhat together, wasn't embarrassed to demonstrate his feelings and treated him like he mattered. All of that made his heart race a little, but he would never admit it to Ben, who was always bugging him about it.

"Can I ask you a question?" Justin murmured, finally gathering the courage to say something.

"Yeah, but you'll probably say the answer is bullshit," Klaus laughed.

"Why have you never slept with anyone here? It's a house full of people, you must be attracted to at least one of them..."

"Honestly, at this point, I have no idea. It just doesn't feel right I guess."

"Is there anyone you would consider being with?" 

"Yeah, definitely."

Klaus and Justin exchanged a look. They both knew they were attracted to each other and more than that, they even liked each other, but so far none of them took the first step. 

Tired of waiting, Justin leaned in for a kiss, which Klaus reciprocated at first, but after a moment, he pulled away. 

"I- I can't," he breathed, though he hadn't felt that good in ages, he really missed the giddy feeling of being wanted and touched in that way.

"Why not?" the young man tried to not let his disappointment show.

"I'm already taken."

"By who?"

"Her name is Victoria, she's been the love of my life ever since I learned what love was. We grew up together and I knew deep inside she felt the same way, but we took too long to say anything and then I lost her. Now I don't know where she is, if she's alive, if she's doing well," Klaus' voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek. "There isn't one day I don't regret not saying something sooner, wasting all that time we could've spent together."

"She's a very lucky lady."

"I'm the lucky one. She's the most loving person I've ever met, she loved me when I was unlovable, when I was destroyed. I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone like her."

Saying those things out loud unlocked something in him and Klaus started sobbing for the first time in a long time. He imagined Vicky wouldn't like to see him cry and if she was alive she could probably hear him in her head, but he couldn't help it. He just missed her more than he could ever explain. He didn't feel like a person, part of him was empty, longing for that voice, that laugh. 

"It's all right!" Justin rubbed his back soothingly. "I thought you liked me... I was stupid, sorry I mixed things up."

"I do like you, that's the thing. You're very handsome and sweet, what's not to like? I just-"

"Love her."

"Yeah," Klaus breathed.

"Don't worry, I understand," he shrugged, though he was pretty much gutted as well. Even with all the sadness, he admired that devotion, it was beautiful and he hoped one day someone would feel the same way about him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Victoria was working, dusting the display TVs while Elliott took a break. She heard loud and clear: I can't keep living without her. 

"I miss you too, Klausie," she whispered to herself.  

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @seanfalco @badsext @salvador-daley @firstpersonnarrator

[thecherrypitpie]

okay so the reveal that i've been quietly working on what my pals & i dub The Terrible Evil Project™ (TEP if you will) is a big solrook fic

however, i still have many competing ideas that i'm sorting out & am bringing one to the lot of you for a vote today

which inquisitor(ish) for the solrook worldstate?

- Sibella Trevelyan, inherited the title of Inquisitor following her father Alaric's death post-arm-dissolving & continues leading it as a branch of the Chantry under Divine Leliana Victoria (friends with Solas)

- Rasha Lavellan, former solas lover who has become increasingly disillusioned with him over the last decade, but is still hanging onto hope for him and for them (think of the angst)

[jt-boi-n7]

OC Twitter Profile Meme

Tagged by @natsora and inspired by @inquartata30 and @1esk19.

I also used the Social Dummy app and had too much damn fun.

Oh and did you ask for DMs? No, you didn't? WELL YOU'RE GONNA GET 'EM ANYWAY

[chaotic-good-hawke]

TMI Tuesday (if you're still accepting these): How would Damita feel about Leliana becoming Divine?

Thank you for asking, friend! 

Damita was very conflicted, at first. She is Andrastian, but she does not support the Chantry. She and Leliana had argued about her serving Divine Justinia. But, ultimately, she accepts that Leliana can do good in the role, bring real change to Thedas. And she does get quite a bit of pleasure being the elven mage wife of the Divine, arguably the most powerful person in Thedas. Not to say they don’t have issues because of it, but she does support her wife. 

So…I got a little carried away and inspired, so I wrote a little scene about them…

Divine Doubts, Damita x Leliana, 844 words

Val Royeaux looked thesame as the first time she saw it. Well, not quite. It was more familiar to besure, the lines of the opulent architecture not as jarring and wondrous. The scentof the sea was strong tonight, the wind blowing in the salty sea air andmingling with the floral scents that marked the city proper.   

Damita trekked throughthe night, to get to the city. She had been halfway to Skyhold, before she gotthe message saying Leliana would be in the capitol.

She had been out ofcontact too long.

Two years, two crazyyears tracking down a cure and finding…more questions. They had more leads,which some of the others were looking into, but they had been gone too long. Whenthey checked in at Soldier’s Peak, Damita found a pile of messages from Leli.After reading them, she immediately left, not truly believing the words sheread.

Reaching the Grand Cathedral,she retraced her steps, so often taken when she needed to find Leli, needed tovisit the quarters of the Left Hand of the Divine. She paced through thehallways and up the stairs, to the quarters of the Divine. She found a doorwith light spilling out from under the door.

Seeing no one, sheslipped into the rooms. Before her was a fire burning bright, a large deskcovered with neatly organized piles. Couches piled with pillows and landscape portraitson the wall. And there, there stood her love.

“My people said you werein the city. I cleared the way for you.” 

“Leli, how could you?” The words come tumblingout, much like her hair, which had blow out of her braids in the journey andhung freely in tousled curls as she pulled back her hood. Seeing Leli in thoserobes, the robes that even when she was the Left-Hand, she never wore. Formless,that ridiculous hat, the symbols of the Chantry stitched into every piece ofthe fabric.

“That is some way togreet me.” Leliana said, crossing her arms, her face blank. Well, blank tothose who didn’t know her. Damita could read the emotion on her love’s face, thetiniest tells that she was hurt.

“Leli…”

“You did not consult mebefore running away for 2 years! You left a note, a note! Barely communicatingwith me that whole time.” Leliana so rarely raised her voice, but her voicebroke ragged with defensive anger. “I tried to seek you out, to tell you whatwas happening here, but you weren’t here!”

“I did it for us!”Damita exclaimed, her own voice rough and strained.

“Why did you think Idid this?!” Leli shouted. They stared at each other, breathing heavy, hurt and confusedand…lonely.

Damita broke first,rushing the rest of the way in to embrace Leli, burying her face into hershoulder. Leliana wrapped her arms around her, one hand to her head, one to herback. They stood in silence for a while, hearing each other’s breathe, just takingin each other’s presence, but words still unsaid hanging heavy between them.

“Am I still your wife?”Damita asked, the shuddering uncertainty lacing her words. The thoughts thatplagued her the whole journey brought to bear: The Divine could not marry.

“Of course!” Lelianasaid, pulling back to look down at her love. She cupped her face. “I can changethings, Damita.” She kissed her forehead. “I will change things. The Chantrywill no longer be what it was. It will be what it was meant to be. A beacon,not an iron fist. No more Circles, just the freedom of the Maker’s light.”

Leliana traced thelines of worry on her wife’s face, her fingers finding the familiar trail offreckles.

“I’m married to theDivine?”

“Yes, love.” Lelianasaid, placing a kiss to Damita’s cheek, reassurance in her words and actions .

“Even though I am an elvenmage?”

“Yes, love.” Lelianareplied, placing another kiss on her other cheek. “You are my wife and nothingwill change that. I love you.” Leliana kissed her deeply, pressing years of longing into it. 

Damita finally broke the kiss. “Is this what you want?”Damita asked, pulling away to look at her.

Leliana paused and then replied with conviction. “Yes,love. It is.”

Damita sighed. “Then Iwill be at your side, whatever comes.” Her bright purple eyes looked up at Leliana, holding hergaze, and then she frowned. “But we have to do something about that hat… and Iam not calling you Victoria.”

Leliana laughed, reliefflooding her face as she smiled, well and truly smiled. She pulled off the offendingarticle and swooped up Damita in her arms, whose own face broke into a grin.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,Leli.”

In the firelight, theyheld each other close, the troubles of the future set aside for the night. Theywould figure it out, together. Fight and hash it out tomorrow. But for tonight,they had each other and that was enough.  

[jt-boi-n7]

Welcome to Divine Victoria hell! It's warm, comfortable, and there's plenty of chairs to curl up and cry on.

Okay look I get that a romantic relationship doesn’t have to be physical to be fulfilling and I respect that greatly but physicality definitely seemed to be a part of the canon Cassandra/Inquisitor dynamic in the main game so how does Divine Cassandra induct the Inquisitor into her personal guard and then NOT make out with/bone the living daylights out of them every time they pass each other in the hallway because like?? having the love of your life as your bodyguard is just Super Hot I mean does she make them wear a paper bag over their head all of the time or something?? what the hell kind of eldritch willpower,,,

[imdoingaokay]

Romanced DAI Companions + Solas and Varric with an GN!Inquisitor being poisoned!

A/N: Hi guys, I am in fact, alive. I love angst so much so... I decided to make this! Don't worry, I made this angst with a happy ending!

Oh, and this takes place AFTER TRESPASSER.

I tried to keep it ambiguous whether or not the Inquisition disbanded or not, but I do feel like I leaned towards the disbanding idea.

TW: Poison, potential death (yikes), just a tiny bit of smut (but it's lowkey classy?)

After the Exalted Council, there had been plenty of… new developments. A few months had passed and the Inquisition was finally settling down. Whether by joining in with Divine Victoria or by disbanding completely, the Inquisition was losing numbers. And while they didn’t want to admit it, most of the Inquisition were slightly relieved that it was over. Starry-eyed rookies were able to go home with some more experience, and veterans were able to have one last ride before retirement. And the Inquisitor, along with their lover, was able to settle down with the person they loved. At least, in a way.

The final day of Skyhold’s moving out had come, and as the sun set, an elf had requested some time with the Inquisitor, wanting to thank them in private for their aid for some long-forgotten side quest they had completed earlier.

The Inquisitor was kind enough to say yes, and the pair walked out on the battlements for a few moments.

But an hour passed, and the elf and the Inquisitor had not appeared. So a few remaining soldiers and the Inquisitor’s lover had set out to search for them, only to find them laying against the cold stone of the wall.

The healers confirmed the worst of their fears, it was poison, no doubt from the elf on behalf of Fen'harel. The poison was fast acting, and would surely kill the Inquisitor by morning. In the great hall, the healers encouraged the Inquisitor’s lover to go to their side and say their goodbyes. Unless some sort of miracle happened, this was the end of the Inquisitor.

And after a climb up an endless flight of stairs, they made it to the door of their lover’s room.

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Thom has never had much control over his life, at least… that’s what he thinks. During his time as Blackwall, he was controlled by the name, the title that came with his identity. And once he was freed of that, he could choose, he could control his life. And now his life, his love… they were slipping away.

He entered the Inquisitor’s room and realized that he was losing them.

“Hey…” He heard his lover coo, holding out a hand to Thom. He nearly stumbles over his feet to reach his lover’s hand, and eventually falls to his knees by the side of the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, relishing the feeling of The Inquisitor’s hand on his cheek, even if it is freezing.

“Don’t be, it was never your fault. It couldn’t have been.” They smile, “It’s going to be okay, you know.” They say, and Thom almost believes it.

He doesn’t dare crawl into bed with them, so instead, he merely sits beside them. He pulls up a chair and quietly holds their hand, carefully inspecting their chest, waiting for the moment when it stops rising and falling.

But it doesn’t.

Their breath is shallow but steadily gets stronger as the night goes on. Warmth and color return to their skin, and eventually, they sit up in bed. Thom refuses to leave their side and refuses to sleep. At least, not until the Inquisitor can get out of bed on their own and walk around. And even then, he waits until the pair have left Skyhold and find themselves in an inn nearby the mountains. Thom locks the door tightly and bars the windows and door to ensure safety. Then he climbs into bed, clinging onto his lover, and passes out. 

Cassandra: She doesn’t cry. She’s felt this anguish before, it isn’t new.

She quietly sits on her lover’s bed and shares a pained expression with her beloved.

“I’m sorry, Cassandra.” They say quietly, “You deserved better.”

Cassandra doesn’t bother to answer. She merely sighs and takes their hand, 

“No. Please don’t. Perhaps this is a sign from the Maker, maybe I am not to love again-” Cassandra begins, only to be cut off.

“Cassandra, please.” They say, “Please don’t give up, you deserve love. If you find someone, please don’t deny yourself that feeling. I didn’t, and look at me, I just so happened to fall in love with the same woman who could’ve beaten my ass when we first met.” They smile, and Cassandra can’t help but smile back.

They don’t stop talking, reciting love poems and stories to one another. Cassandra finds herself curled up and comfortable next to her partner.

The night drags on and tiredness lulls the pair to sleep, but when Cassandra wakes, she finds her lover still breathing. Sleepily, they ask for “another few moments” as she sits up.

A sign from the Maker, for sure. A sign that her partner isn’t leaving her anytime soon.

Cullen Rutherford: He knew something was wrong. The second the elf walked out with his spouse he got a terrible feeling in his stomach. Not even ten minutes had passed before Cullen began to start wandering around Skyhold, under the guise of ensuring everything went accordingly. But once an hour had passed, Cullen got desperate. It was his mabari that found his love first, sniffing the trail that led him to the dying Inquisitor before leading Cullen right to them.

When Cullen found them, he nearly blew up in rage. He was luckily calm enough to pick up his love and carry them to the healers, calling out for help.

He stayed by their side for every moment, and when he was told by the healers that it was too late, he angrily sent them out. He leaned over the railing as he watched the healers file out of the door.

“Cullen…” He heard a weak call to him from the bed. Cullen immediately turned and rushed toward his love.

“I’m here, my love.” He smiles, taking their hand in his. He freezes for a split second and he feels how cold his spouse’s hands are before he meets their gaze.

“I’m sorry…” They sigh, but Cullen shushes them, bringing his other hand to their cheek. He feels his eyes fill with tears as he watches his Inquisitor drift in and out of consciousness. Their mabari stood guard on the bed, laying their chin on the Inquisitor’s stomach.

When he was certain his love had fallen asleep, Cullen got on his knees. And with his spouse’s hand intertwined with his, he prayed. He prayed for a chance, a chance for his love to live. He prayed for forgiveness for his selfishness, the selfishness that caused him to want his love to stay for a bit longer. And he prayed for strength, for if the Maker decided to take his love away, he would make the world feel his wrath.

Luckily, the Maker answered only the first two of those prayers, as the next day the Inquisitor woke. They looked over to their husband, who had fallen asleep hours prior from sheer panic and exhaustion, and the Inquisitor slowly began to rouse him.

Cullen woke when he felt something push his hair back, which had fallen all over his face in his anguish the night prior. When he opened his eyes, he saw his beloved smile at him, and he thought he had died for a moment.

“Maker’s breath.” He spoke, cupping his lover’s face into a passionate kiss that was rudely interrupted by a healer barging their way in to give funeral rites.

Cullen should’ve been mad, and he would’ve been, if not for the relief he felt as his spouse kindly answered the healer’s questions and politely shooed them away. Cullen had been unable to take his eyes off his love and nearly tackled them afterward.

The two spent the next few hours in each other’s arms, and Cullen quietly whispered into their neck another prayer… this one was for more time the two could spend together.

Dorian Pavus: After blowing up at the healers for their “lackluster effort in healing their Inquisitor,” he’s a mix of anger and pain. He had planned to leave the next day for Tevinter, planning on leaving his Amatus for Maker knows how long, and he was still worried to bits. But, of course, they have to die right before he leaves them. Talk about dramatic.

He angrily marches up the stairs, intending to scold his lover for their carelessness, for their soft-hearted nature, anything to distract himself from the inevitable demise of the one person he loves more than anything else. But, as he climbs the stairs and gets to his partner’s door, he stops. He’s quiet for a moment before opening the door and slowly stepping up the final flight of stairs.

“Dorian…” He hears, and he can’t help but break. There is a moment when he wonders why his vision is so blurry, but the warm, wet tears streaming down his face give him his answer.

“Are you alright?” He manages to get out.

“I’m fine.” His lover coos, reaching out to Dorian’s hand.

“Bloody liar. I know that isn’t true.” Dorian scoffs, still greedily taking the hand of his Amatus as he huffs.

“Dorian, I love you.” They say, and Dorian wants to scream.

“Shut up, you’re going to be fine.” Dorian denies it, squeezing his lover’s hand ever so tightly.

“Hm… alright. I’ll take your word for it.” They smile their thumb stroking Dorian’s hand. Dorian sighs before letting his hand go slack.

“I love you too, you… soft, foolish, dramatic bastard.” He grumbles to his lover, lowering his gaze to their hand.

The night goes on without incident. Dorian claims he didn’t fall asleep, but it was the Inquisitor who noticed his lover’s eyelids begin to droop before Dorian rested his head against the mattress, fingers still intertwined.

The next morning, Dorian wakes up to a thumb stroking his hand, and he looks up from tear-stained sheets to see a smiling Inquisitor.

“Good morning.” The Inquisitor greets, and Dorian can’t help but sigh. Dorian jumps into bed with his Inquisitor, wrapping his arms around them tightly. The worst of this poison is over.

Over the next day or so, Dorian “convinces” a very eager Inquisitor to journey with him to Tevinter, under the condition that it is only for a few weeks while Dorian makes sure the Inquisitor makes a full and speedy recovery.

Tragic how the Inquisitor stays for far longer, hm?

Iron Bull: He was one of the first to find them. He’s familiar with the specific type of poison, and he knows that he got there too late. He stays by their side the entire time, refusing to part by their bedside. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that his Kadan is dying. When they awake, Bull is quietly sitting beside them, holding their hand in his much larger one.

Bull doesn’t know what exactly he should do, he’s never had someone this close to him… someone he cared for so deeply… die.

He makes them an offer, a final dinner… in a way. One last night between the two of them, no Inquisition, no pain, just… them. It doesn’t come from a place of horniness or anything, just a desire to be close to his Kadan one last time.

If the Inquisitor refuses, he respects it and decides to stay by their side, quietly watching them as they drift to sleep.

If they accept, Bull goes slow, watching for the effects of the poison to get worse. He brings his lover to their peak, then back to center multiple times before he even bothers taking care of himself, but once he does, the sun has already risen above the mountains. And the Inquisitor seems like they’re in far better shape.

Regardless, Bull lovingly watches them, and can’t help but get a burst of pride when the healers congratulate them for fighting the poison in their system. 

His Kadan is one formidable badass. And he’s more than happy to admit that.

Josephine Montilyet: “My love” She nearly sobs, rushing over to her lover’s bedside.

“This is all my fault, I should’ve… could’ve…” She sniffles and grips the hand of the Inquisitor tighter than ever.

“Josie…” A soothing voice lulls her back to reality, and she can’t help but meet the gaze of her lover, “You did… all you could.” They say sweetly, squeezing her hand gently.

Josephine wants to argue, but the look her lover gives her makes her sigh.

“I suppose… I suppose you are right…” She says, “I… I don’t want you to leave me.” She says gently, sitting on the side of the bed.

“I’m not gone yet, am I?” They say, and Josephine lets out a laugh.

“I suppose not.”

The night passes rather quickly, the Inquisitor distracting Josephine with questions and stories about her life. She’s halfway into her 17th story about Yvette when a healer comes in, astonished by the Inquisitor’s survival. That is the moment when Josephine turns and finally realizes the sun is up.

“I told you I wasn’t gone yet… I don’t intend on leaving you anytime soon, Josie.” They say, and that’s when Josephine has to fight the tears in her eyes while the healer confirms the poison is no longer a threat.

The second the healer leaves, however, is when Josephine bursts into tears once more.

Sera: She refuses to see them at first. Crossing her arms and turning away from the door. “No, I’m not gonna see them like that.” She states, “They… they aren’t gonna see me like this either.” She huffs, marching away to pack a few of the things she had left in Skyhold.

The night drags on and she can’t get her mind off her Inky, and soon enough, she’s sprinting up the stairs.

“Inky? Honey tongue? Tadwinks?” She calls out, progressively louder as she climbs the seemingly endless flight of stairs. “Sera.” She hears, finally getting to the very top. She’s breathing heavier than she ever thought possible. Sera rushes over to her Inky’s bed and quickly wraps them in the tightest hug they will ever feel. “I’m sorry, I am, I jus- I couldn’t see you like that. Like this… but if this is the last time-” Sera blubbers

“It’s not, dear.” They say, kissing the cheek of their wife, “If I survived Haven, the Anchor, and a shit ton of the undead, I’ll survive this.” They smile, and Sera relaxes.

“I… I guess that makes sense… it’s just… they stupid wizards… they say…”

“They’ve said a lot of things, haven’t they?” The Inquisitor shrugs.

Sera giggles before getting up once more, this time to properly lay down next to her Inky.

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” She says, “I don’t want you to fall asleep either… so… can we just talk… about what we’re gonna do?” She asks and promptly passes out an hour later.

The next morning, she’s woken up by a clamor, and for a moment she panics. But once she sees her lover’s hand around hers, warm and periodically squeezing, she relaxes. She relaxes more so when she hears her Inky’s voice quietly respond to the healer’s frantic questions.

The healers leave after basically clearing the Inquisitor, and Sera, in response, passes out once more, having far better dreams than earlier.

Extra: 

Solas: He was enraged. The elf was supposed to merely watch the Inquisition, not carry out an assassination!

Solas knew he couldn’t see his vhenan, not in person. But that night, after his anger had somewhat subsided, he watched his vhenan in The Fade.

They lay in a faux meadow, surrounded by wildflowers that stretched out seemingly endlessly. No trees for him to hide behind, no shadows to watch them from, so he took a risk and got close. He curled around them as a wolf, his vhenan using him as a pillow. He watched them teeter between life and death. And Solas couldn’t help but feel a type of anguish he never knew, so many regrets, so much pain. He quietly prayed and wished for his vhenan to live, to survive, and to open their eyes for him. And luckily, or unluckily, they did. It was only for a moment, and Solas had relished it selfishly.

The Inquisitor spoke but they were silent, their mouth opened and closed, and their hand had gone to his fur, gripping it tightly. Solas wanted to stay for longer, to lay with his vhenan, but instead, he watched the flowers of the meadows slowly dissipate. 

His vhenan was waking up, they would survive. That is what he desired, yet he found himself only in more pain, he wanted them to stay. He wanted to lounge in the dreams his vhenan had created for eternity. He closed his eyes and prayed the Inquisitor forgave him, prayed they didn’t blame him, even though he knew he deserved none of that. But he feels the hand on his fur disappear, and he knows that they’re gone.

He knew he nearly faltered, his vhenan has that impact on him. 

They always have, and they always will.

Varric Tethras: Death truly follows Varric everywhere he goes.

He solemnly walks up the stairs and stops himself before he enters the door. 

What does he say? What does he do?

Varric doesn’t know, so he returns to his default.

“Hey!” He smiles, meeting the gaze of his love.

“Varric…” They coo sweetly, causing him to falter and crack.

“I…” He sighs and returns to his lover’s side. “I love you so much.” He says quietly, clinging onto their hand for dear life.

“Lay by my side, please.” He hears, and he can’t help but let out a pained laugh, crawling beside them.

“As you wish.” He says, watching his lover wrap their arms around him,

“Take off your shirt.” They order, and Varric obliges.

“You trying to have one last hurrah with me?” He jokes.

“No, I just want to fall asleep next to you.” They huff.

“Fall asleep... huh.” He sighs.

“Shush. We’re sleeping… and tomorrow, we’re going to Kirkwall so I can meet Aveline.” The Inquisitor says.

“I forgot… the I have to take you to The Hanged Man, right?” He smiles, petting his lover’s head.

“Mhm, and then we go to the gallows so I can see what the fuss was all about.” He hears his lover yawn. So Varric continues.

“Yup, then we tour Hightown.” He begins, lulling his lover to sleep.

And sometime in the night, Varric falls asleep too.

And the next morning, when the healers enter the room, Varric silently watches with a smile as his lover was told they are cleared and allowed to travel with him back to Kirkwall. 

But he knows he’ll be watching his lover like a hawk while the pair is there, he isn’t letting that little stunt happen again.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Puppet Masterlist | Puppet Taglist | Buy me a coffee?

It's the day of the gig. But that doesn't mean the night is over once the band leaves the stage.

Content: Bit of smut, bit of angst, bit of comfort?

Word count: 3.1k

Lesson Thirteen: Safewords are made to be used.

You had spent the day on your own. Berlin was gorgeous and a perfect place to keep your mind off things - being around the band would have only made you go insane with nerves at the prospect of finally dressing Thomas in your blouse for the gig that night. So after an awkward stumble out of Ethan's room that morning you had waved goodbye to the four of them for the day and promised to meet back with them that night at the venue. Yet, you weren't able to completely forget about it. As you were sitting in a café, sipping on a hot drink involving way too much caffeine and people watching, everyone and everything seemed to remind you of the four people you had spent the last few weeks with. A head of hair that just looked like Thomas' tousled mane. A pair of trousers you knew would make Victoria's hips look amazing. A shade of red on someone's lips that you wanted to put on Damiano. A tall man with long dark hair who, upon turning around, couldn't even get close to the beauty that was Ethan.

You allowed yourself to let it all go into your drawings. There was no point trying to push their influence away as it was, so you decided to embrace it. You ended up sketching for hours, working and creating until your hand started hurting, not allowing yourself to think too much about any of the details, not erasing a single line, simply letting the inspiration of the city and your head full of thoughts guide you. Your feet carried you away from the cafe as it became too awkward to overstay your welcome there any longer, letting the streets of Berlin inspire and motivate you. You couldn't resist the temptation of the vintage clothing shops, ending up with more than a few purchases.

Dusk was on the verge of breaking when you finally left, rushing back to the hotel to get changed for the concert, gathering your things, and calling a cab to bring you back to the four people you had somehow managed to miss, even when the separation was only fleeting.

***

"Vic, I swear to God, if you steal my fucking Gucci butt plug one more time-"

Backstage was pure chaos. They hadn't played a show in a while so not only were everyone's nerves tense and their adrenaline spiking, but the usual order of events wasn't flowing quite so naturally as it did a few days into any sort of tour. It didn't help that Vic was in one of her moods, mischievous to the bone and on the right track to pissing absolutely everyone off. You knew it was her way of dealing with the nerves, but that didn't mean she wasn't annoying the whole team.

You left her to her own devices as you vanished into a room with Thomas instead. He was already wearing your blouse and if you were being honest, it looked even better than it had done in your imagination. In fact, he looked positively divine. The white material was flowing over his skin, natural and soft, sleeves wide enough to evoke a silk-like effect without restricting his guitar playing, chest and back on show.

"Do you like it?" You asked, insecurity still ringing in your voice. Just because you were in love with the piece didn't mean he was - and nothing was more important than him being comfortable during the concert.

Thomas turned towards you, surprise painting his face as he saw the doubt in yours. In a single, large stride he was in front of you, hands on your cheeks, angling your head upwards to force you to look at him.

"I love it." Bending down to your height, he put a small, soft kiss on your lips, leaving your heart racing and your worries erased. You couldn't help smiling back up at him, tender eyes pulling you in. You just about managed to leave another quick kiss on his mouth before the door burst open.

"Five minutes!" Victoria's voice was something between a shout and a melodic tune. You weren't sure if it was actually five minutes until stage time at all or if she simply needed to stir chaos and get attention, but Thomas let go of you, both of you exchanging smiles as he went after her to amuse her. You could only chuckle. They were a mess of a group, chaotic and confusing, but loving and caring and you were ecstatic to call them your friends. Or maybe something more.

***

The gig was small and sweaty and it was the first time you had seen the band play live in years, so it was little surprise that they ended up blowing your mind. Thomas held onto the blouse for as long as he could before it was positively drenched in sweat and then threw it right at your face as you watched from the side of the stage, laughing at the squeal you let out as the wet material hit your skin. All of them played their hearts out, the audience giving back just as much and you couldn't help having a little dance and a singalong by yourself, intermittently noticed by the band who would throw you smiles and in the case of Damiano the occasional kiss.

You would have thought they were out of energy when they finished their show after a rousing encore of Lividi Sui Gomiti, but apparently, the adrenaline was still running high and energy was still searching for an outlet. Before you knew it, you were back at the hotel in Vic's room, where everyone met back up again after their showers to get changed for a night out.

"Wait - is that the club you told us about?" Damiano questioned as he stared at the address Vic had sent to his phone. "You know, that one?"

The way Damiano had said it caught your attention.

"Wait, where are you planning on taking me?" You asked right as Vic was handing you a top to wear that looked more like a fancy bra than anything else. "That's too revealing, I'm not gonna go out like this."

"I think that will still be one of the least revealing outfits there," Ethan commented, thoughtfully, as he mustered your boots, shorts, and the top in your hand.

You looked around the room. You were easily the most dressed out of the five of you. You were used to the band dressing in extravagant ways, often not wearing much at all on stage, full of harnesses and chains and other bondage-inspired accessories, but it wasn't usually the look they went for when they went out by themselves afterward. Too much attention.

"Okay, honestly, guys, where the fuck are we going?"

Ethan and Damiano only smirked. Thomas wasn't meeting your eye - you felt like he wasn't too sold on the whole affair either, but who was he to turn down a party.

"It's a rock club," Victoria finally explained. "But the twist is..." You wanted to strangle her for long she paused for, just to push you over the edge of anticipation. "...you are allowed, and, in fact, encouraged to have sex there."

"I'm sorry, what now?"

"You don't have to, obviously. You don't have to do anything. It's just the fact that it's allowed so... you'll definitely see some things. And if you wanna join in, this is the time and place. No phones allowed either, they take them off you when you enter. But if you genuinely feel uncomfortable, we don't have to go, you know."

You looked between the four of them, studying their expressions one by one. This seemed to be way out of your league. It was a lot, and it was possibly too soon. But you trusted them with your life. They'd be there with you the whole time, they'd never push you to do anything you didn't agree to, and they wouldn't hesitate to leave if you asked for it. It was time to step out of your comfort zone.

"Vic? Give me that bra."

***

You weren't quite sure what you had been expecting, but the club, two floors with a number of different rooms, stuffed with people clad in next to nothing involved in heavy make-out sessions and - as far as you could tell - some slightly more intimate things in certain rooms - was overwhelming, to say the least. You didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable, there was no rush or pressure to participate in anything at all, or even pay attention, but there was a vibe in the air that you hadn't felt in any other club or party setting ever. You would lie if you said it didn't intrigue you a little.

You kept close to Thomas for now. Everyone had dispersed pretty quickly upon entering but you didn't quite want to explore on your own yet. Thomas didn't seem too interested in the shenanigans happening, so you followed him onto the middle of the dance floor where people's minds were occupied with the music playing and a lot of dancing. He fit right in, pulling all of his signature moves, no one even bothering to give it a second glance. It improved your mood immensely. He pulled you in easily, making you join and forget about the fact that you couldn't move to the beat if your life depended on it, and let go.

You couldn't tell how long you were there for, simply letting Thomas swing and twist you around until you were shaking with laughter and joy. You weren't paying much attention to the happening around you, but you figured the main action past some heavy make-out sessions wasn't bound to happen in the middle of the main dance floor anyway. But then Thomas needed the loo (you politely declined the offer to follow him there) and suddenly you were on your own. Feeling rather lost and a little self-conscious in the middle of a big room, you went searching for some other familiar faces.

You found Ethan at the bar, deep in conversation with a stranger. He gave you a smile as you passed by, a hand briefly wandering along your body, not even faltering in his talk. You did your best to stay calm and collected.

You found Victoria in one of the smaller rooms, leaning against a wall, drink in hand, intently watching two girls next to her. One of them had the other pressed against the wall, leaving wet kisses along her neck, her hand disappearing somewhere you couldn't see in the dark lighting. Vic seemed to be spurring them on, whispering into both of their ears interchangeably. You decided to leave them to it.

Damiano found you on your way to no place in particular. He pulled you into a different room, back into the blaring music, immediately drawing you close and wrapping his arms around you. You could tell he's had a drink, easily more intoxicated than you, by the way he moved and by the way he was clinging to you. You embraced it, letting him whisk you away. You let your arms fall around his neck, as his held your waist tightly, making dancing almost impossible, but neither of you minded as you kept trying. He kissed you, desperate and needy, not much technique left in his apparent search for more. His lips were warm and inviting against yours and you found your hands wandering to the back of his head, grabbing onto his hair. 

He couldn't seem to stay still. His hands were wandering up and down your body, searching for the abundance of naked skin you had on show, fingers trailing past your bum to dance over your thighs, before coming back up, over the small of your back, harshly grabbing at your hips, thumbs stroking you softly in contrast. Moving up, they grazed the underside of your top, almost touching your breasts. When he stopped, you looked up at him, trying to figure out what had gotten him so distracted. It wasn't difficult to find out.

Following his line of sight, you could spot a couple locked in a messy kiss, their dancing reduced to not much more than a way of rubbing against each other, his knee moving between her legs, pushing against her in ways that had her moaning and breaking the kiss. You couldn't hear her over the music, but the sight of it was enough. It was hot and sexy and it felt forbidden to watch even with the knowledge that they did this well aware of their audience.

Damiano's interest was obvious - not just in the way he stared, but in the way he pressed against you. His cock was hardening noticeably through the thin material of his shorts. He turned back towards you, eyes darkening in a way you could make out even in the low light. Grabbing onto your face, he pulled you back into a kiss, hard and bruising. He overpowered you easily, letting you fall and give him control. Your hands were still slung around his neck, but he tugged on one of your arms until he could take hold of your hand. He didn't pull back as he dragged your hand down between both of your bodies, clumsily moving it over his chest, only covered by a sheer top, lower and lower. He didn't stop when you reached the waistband of his shorts. You could feel his hard length clearly now, every single detail about it prominently bulging through the material and into your hand. 

As you applied some pressure, he wrecked his mouth away from yours, shamelessly throwing his head back in a moan. A head or two turned.

It felt like a thousand heads.

You could feel the eyes on you, watching you, staring, judging your every move, waiting for more, waiting for a scene.

The rational part of your brain tried to tell you it was all in your mind, that this was a club for exactly this sort of thing, no judgement, no one would care apart from for their own pleasure, there were no phones, no cameras, this was a safe space. It got drowned out too easily by the part of your brain that started to panic.

Not a safe place, not a safe place, not a safe place.

Damiano's eyes were closed and he was still moving your hand ever so slightly against himself as the panic rose up in you. A white-hot feeling seemed to travel through your whole body. Your mind went into overdrive. You didn't want this. It came out of nowhere. You weren't having fun. You weren't feeling comfortable. Your eyes were darting around the room, convinced you were the sole center of an unwanted type of attention, filling you up with shame and horror.

You have to stop, you have to stop, stop it now, tell him, let him know, use your safewords, tell him to slow down, tell him yellow yellow yellow-

"Red."

You weren't sure how Damiano heard over the music and the general noise of everything that happened around you, but it seemed like he'd been hit by lightning the second the word reached his ears. He was off you immediately, a welcomed distance as his hands let go of you completely, not a single part of him touching you anymore. You didn't dare meet his eye, staring everywhere but at his face. You felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, as if you had let him down and ruined a situation you should have been fine in but somehow weren't. You hated the feeling.

"What's going on?"

Victoria seemed to appear out of nowhere and she didn't miss the situation happening in front of her. She looked back and forth between you and Damiano, waiting for an answer, obviously unsure as to how to continue.

"We were making out and-" Damiano stammered for a moment, apparently just as overwhelmed as you. "I took it too far, I didn't check in with her, I was too distracted, and she said red."

Vic didn't hesitate, turning towards you. "Do you want to leave?"

You nodded.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Another nod.

Her hand was gentle on the small of your back, a stark contrast to the touch you had felt from Damiano's hands before. You gathered the courage to look into her eyes, only just noticing the tears stinging in your own when you did. Her face was full of empathy as she returned your nod. You barely remembered the way out of the club or into the waiting taxi. Only when you sat down next to her in the backseat, immediately searching for her body and her comfort, did you feel like you were breathing again.

"You did the right thing, cucciola," Vic whispered as she wrapped her arm around you protectively. "There's no shame, okay? Safewords are made to be used. Our traffic light system is made to be used. That's why we taught you. You found a boundary of yours and you spoke up. I'm really proud of you."

You felt like crying, but in a good way now. Her words soothed your soul so perfectly, reassuring you and comforting you exactly the way you needed to be reassured and comforted. She was perfect. The way back to the hotel wasn't long, but she made sure to hold you and put little kisses on the top of your head all the way. She was safety.

Victoria held your hand as you left the taxi, she held it as you went up the elevator, and she held it as she led you to her room. You easily follower her lead, trusting her explicitly and the way she seemed to magically know what you needed. She jumped in the shower with you, washing your hair, scrubbing your body until you felt clean and whole again. Then she wrapped you into a towel and blowdried your hair. When she moved you into her cozy double bed you felt warm. She snuggled in next to you, making sure to always be close, always touch you in some way. You curled up like a cat, simply content to be in her arms.

"Sleep now," she whispered with another kiss, this time to your temple. "You did everything right. And we all love you. Always."

You sighed as sleep started to take over. You almost missed the last sentence she mumbled, but you couldn't bite back the grin when you heard.

"And tomorrow, if you feel like it, you'll let mommy take care of you."

After all, Vic was still Vic. Always.

***

Taglist: @till-you-scream-and-cry ​ @ethaneskin @damianodavide @itsmaneskinbitch @blackberryblossom @lifeofa-fangirl @bethanysnow @noeprd27 @polygraph-paperplane @iambandlover @xx-x-frxnny @thewitchinthemountain @arrelia-hunter26 @crazyonthelines @vicbellaangelis @mortyandem @icarodamiano @Ursulalurks @Aapjesopeenfiets @xmusse @tellmesomething01 @elvirabelle @moonlight-simp @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @theimpossiblehologramtree @ha-la-ansia @l0standn0tf0und @iamtashaquinn @myleftsock (sorry, it won't let me tag you, it's either something in your settings or Tumblr being Tumblr) @maneskintifoso @katmoonz @dreaming-with-happiness @que--sera--sera @cuzimitaliano @wow-ihateithere @searchingford @damianossigaretta @purrthehouse @gr8rainbowpunk @littledropsofheaven @randombush3 @klavedeservesthegoddamnworld @wonderlandishell

[cixteenyne]

Gone For good (2 - Aftermath)

I’m happy this was actually liked! enjoy!

Genre: Angst, Hurt-No Comfort

Prompt: Cheating (continued) Part 1

CELESTIA WELCOMES YOU, DIVINE ONE

It was the type of shock of putting hours of dedication into an exam, just to fail. Nmh, this must be how Noelle felt, yes? 

Well it was fucking unbearable.

 For him, he didn't know how you were holding up. You avoided him at all costs, his cockiness told him that you'd break down at the sight of him, hating that you still loved him. It wasn't true, but he still kept hope.

When he found out you weren't coming back, he quickly put together as to why. It was Keaya after all. Ever the cunning. He didn't know you were still in Mondstat, thought you escaped him through Liyue, or the infamous Inazuma. The tavern became his best friend, but oddly enough, Diluc became scarce. He never spoke a word to Diluc, entering. Drinking. Spacing. Leaving. But never a word, a glance. Nothing, but he would act as if nothing happened if confronted.

He always acted as if nothing happened, as if he didn't just shatter your self esteem, your heart, what you thought were genuine ‘i love you’s. It enraged you. The type of rage of knowing that acceptance just wasn't an option any more, screaming your lungs out sounded better.

So that's what you did. You did it all the time, if your voice got meek from yelling, you'd wait it out, let it heal, and do it all again.

He would probably get so much sick ‘revenge’ out of knowing how much he was getting to you, that the thought of him could cause you to wear yourself out. So his earlier thought wasn't much of a lie, you would break at the sight of him, but not quite in sadness.

You woke up at the same time every night. 4:30AM. The time he would slip into bed, soundless. Cunning. Donning that coy smile he knew you would forgive. How agonizing.

It was because of this that walks became the norm for you. You'd get up. 4:30. Coat. house key. Shoes. Walk. repeat.

It helped, it really did. You'd say hi to vendors setting up shop in the race to set up early. You enjoyed it, it made you happy. Something you couldn't be ever since he did what he did.

Another stranger, wave.

 Blue eyed woman, wave. 

Blondie, nod. 

Sister Victoria, be respectful, nod, wave, fix that posture.

You'd always end up in the pathed woods, 5:44. A cycle. 

Walk. walk faster. Stranger, smile. 

You made a mistake, apologize. 

“Sorry, i wasn't looki-” 

“(name)”.

You felt that same frustration build up in your chest. It felt constricting. Uncomfortable. Really, it did.

You kept walking, walking, he just followed, followed. That stupid serene look on his face, that stupid “were friends” look. You weren't friends, far from it, you couldn't stand his voice, so you ignored him. Couldn't bear to see his face, that smile, so you kept your eyes on the ground.

Until he wouldn't allow it anymore. 

You were pretty much a long way from Mondstat by now. You knew that. 6:21. You didn't care. You just wanted him to go away. You haven't said a word to him since you bumped into him, couldn't he just take the hint,

 What's wrong with him? 

Why does he think he can just waltz into your life again?! 

JUST WHAT WAS HE TRYING TO PU-

“What's got you so worked up”

What.

What?

The question hit you like a brick wall, a smooth surface you couldn't grab or climb over, the frustration bubbled to your throat, 

it felt like hot metal stuck in your throat, but not hot enough to hurt, just enough to make you angrier

You didn't realize in your stupor that you asked that out loud.

So you continued just as he tried to.

“Wel-” 

“What’s-.got me work up?” you asked in an incredulous tone, genuinely stupefied.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

A silent lingered, tense and wary.

He looked at you, such a stupid unaffected look on his face.

“No, I'm not, i was just asking, because i ca-”

You didn't let him finish, he didn't deserve to finish that fucking sentence, he didn't deserve to just stroll up to you as if nothing was wrong.

“Don't fucking finish that sentence you absolute asshole, you don't get to say that you fucking care, you don't! You never did, if you cared so much about what happened to me, we'd still be together prick!” You were out of breath, breathing with so much anger, you didn't grieve anymore. you wouldn't. He didn't deserve your sadness, not even your anger, but you needed this, you couldn't afford to care right now.

He seemed startled, as if he hadn’t expected what you said, as if he expected you to cry and beg him not to do it again. Give him another chance, though, a part of him didn't want the chance, he knew he didn't deserve you. He knew. He just didn't want to admit he had lost you.

But at some point his attention was snapped to you as you began to hiss out with such hate he didn't know you were capable of.

“Or would you still be fucking donna like she's your wife?” You said it as if he were a guilty criminal, which in a sense, he was, he absolutely was. But he also had to think.

Would he?

When he was dating you he had a mindset of ‘knowing he would not get caught”...’wrapped around his finger’, so, if that dating were still going on….- he was frozen as he admitted to himself that-

He would.

You seemed to register his silence as a yes, and no matter how much you hated him, you knew there was a time where his love was real, so genuine, so pure. So wanting.

You hadn't even noticed you began to cry, no sounds, just tears, anger, and realization

The realization that you just weren't ok with letting him go, but hated him to the very core. How could you let go of so many memories, even if for him it was just pretend, for you it was real, so real that you let it get bad, so real that you would sit and let him play house with you for a little longer. And it was a time too long, because now look where you are.

He had hugged you some seconds ago, you wanted to pull away, but you needed this just as much, even if he knew he could never have you again, he could at least have this, this is the least he could have before you left him, forever to be someone else's. gone.

Gone for good.

[ao3feed-narlie]

swap me for your shadow

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/xOBRa5l by shootingforthestars what happens when things in your life don't go according to plan? what happens, for example, if you were a professional rugby player, and suddenly injuries, and now you're not? what do you do? what kind of future can you make from this present? how much is your past going to keep intruding? (the overuse of questions here isn't a mistake--you'll find the same in the fic itself. just pretend i'm an old, kindly philosopher sitting on a mountaintop somewhere and i'm determined not to tell you any answers, but rather seek them together...) Words: 3014, Chapters: 1/11, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Jane Spring, Oliver "Olly" Spring, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, David Nelson (Heartstopper), Sarah Nelson, Victoria "Tori" Spring, Michael Holden (Solitaire), Harry Greene, Tao Xu, Elle Argent, Tara Jones, Darcy Olsson, Julio Spring, original but not overly important coworker and former partner characters Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Elle Argent/Tao Xu, Tara Jones/Darcy Olsson, Jane Spring/Julio Spring, Sarah Nelson/Stéphane Nelson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aged-Up Character(s), Museums, Meet-Cute, Therapy, London, Paris (City), Plot Twists, no i'm not going to tell you in the tags, what kind of sense would that make, tori spring as embodiment of divine wisdom, Angst with a Happy Ending, a journey back and forth through time, who is surprised? exactly no one read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/xOBRa5l

[mlm-writer]

Cassandra (Cassandra Pentaghast/Divine Victioria x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Cassandra Pentaghast/Divine Victoria x Gender Neutral Human/Elf Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 970 POV: Second Summary: To Thedas, she is Divine Victoria and people look towards her for answers. To you, she is Cassandra and you look towards her with love. Note: Woooo first day of kinktober! And also the first female character on this blog. See my kinktober 2022 masterlist here. Reader’s genitals are not mentioned at all and reader could be the inquisitor or not.   Tags: pegging, fluff and smut, with a little bit of angst, fingering, nicknames and face sitting

“You continue to surprise me, Most Holy,” you mused, though your words turned to moans halfway through. “I was not aware Her Eminence was even allowed to…” Her Eminence shut you up with a very good curl of her fingers inside you. 

Once the sound had run its course and you were left breathless, you lifted your head to look at Divine Victoria through the mirror across from the large bed covered in the most luxurious fabrics. “Though what we do here is… unconventional, it is not forbidden,” she informed you as a matter-of-fact. You buried your face back into the red fabric underneath you, moaning into it as Victoria added a third finger. 

You were at her complete mercy. There were no restraints, no spells and no obligation to be where you were. You were in your current predicament of your own volition and there was no place you’d rather be. “My love,” you sighed into the silken bed covers as you raised your head to look at Her Holiness once more, “please, I am going mad.”

She showed you mercy, her fingers leaving you and the cold glass of her artificial member pressing against your hot entrance. “Say my name,” Victoria demanded. 

“Victoria.”

“No, my real name.” 

You hesitated. You should not be calling her that. It was not her name anymore. She sighed and leaned down, wrapping her arms around you. You understood then. Your light in the darkness was dimming, getting burned out by the burdens of a tragedy-struck world. To everyone else she could be Most Holy, the answer to every question, but here, with you, she just needed to be… her. “Cassandra, my love, my guiding light and home, please, become one with me.” Your eyes met through the mirror and she knew right away of your awareness of the weight on her shoulders. A relieved smile painted itself on her face.

Cassandra leaned back so you had room to turn over onto your back. You bent your knees and smiled at your dearest as she shuffled closer to you. “You have such a way with words,” she spoke, trying to be condescending, but you could see the pink dusting her ears. You smirked up at her and reached out to her with one hand, running your thumb along her cheek scar. 

Then she pushed inside you and you were unable to form any words. From her smug face, you could tell she did it to shut you up, before you said more cheesy things. Her hand also cupped your face, caressing the skin with the same adoration as you showed her. “Do you have any idea how often you’ve crossed my mind?” You inquired through the building pleasure. Your beloved sighed, knowing you were going to say something super cheesy, that would annoy and fluster her. Instead of falling for your trap, she pulled her hips back and pressed back inside of you languidly. This was your time together and no one was going to take it away from you. 

You whimpered, but it did not put you off your mission of turning the love of your life cherry red. “It is just once. You have never left my mind since the moment I met you.” Cassandra told you to shut up, but there was no fire in her voice. You grabbed her face with both hands and pulled it down, until your foreheads pressed together and your breaths mingled. You closed your eyes, concentrating on her thrusts and breath. “Sorry, my beloved, one day I might look at you and never be able to look away at all.” She told you to shut up again, this time with a hard thrust. 

The result was not silence, but rather a loud moan that even surprised yourself. “You are close, are you not?” You nodded in reply to her inquiry. She pressed her lips against yours and increased the speed of her movements. You moaned into her mouth, until your orgasm was imminent. 

You threw your head back. “Cassandra, Cassandra,” you chanted, until your body stiffened, every muscle pulling taut, and the wave of an orgasm crashed over you. You had barely regained a sense of reality, when a familiar smell filled your nostrils, followed by a wet cunt being pressed against your mouth. You noticed the toy still being inside you and you tried to keep it in, while licking up Cassandra’s juices. She moaned in satisfaction as you put all your leftover energy into stimulating her clit with your fingers, while working her inner walls with your tongue. 

You moaned into her pussy, letting her know she was an unrivalled feast to your appetite. She moaned your name in return, her hand on your head guiding you towards her orgasm. Out of seemingly nowhere, the toy slipped out of you and you moaned in surprise. The vibrations made Cassandra tighten her thighs around your head and you sped up your moves, stimulating her through an orgasm that made her entire body tremble. 

You continued, until Cassandra lifted herself off your face. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw a sight that confirmed the existence of the Maker. She was truly Most Holy. She was truly perfection in a human form. Your dearest, most beloved Cassandra Pentaghast, the definition of eminence.

“Watch out, my love, I think you might be on the road of never being able to look away,” she spoke softly as she laid down next to you. You scoffed and pulled her closer to you. Lips met each other like old lovers after a war. You did not part, until the need for air became more pressing than your desire. 

“I have been on that road since the moment I set my eyes on you for the first time.”

-----------------------

PLEASE REBLOG/REPLY TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITER

[mochie85]

Six-Inch Heels

Chapter 12 of my Mayari series.

Mayari Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Mayari gets recruited as a replacement for Natasha at a fashion show. The Tower gets attacked, and you and Loki have a moment. A/N: This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist could be found here on Spotify. Word Count: Over 8.6k Warnings: Fluff, quick smut, angst, action sequence, Dividers by: @firefly-graphics Artwork by: HeyMaryJean

This was the worst thing you had ever agreed to do. I’d prefer to be locked in a room with ten HYDRA agents. Hell, make it fifty. But this? Walking around the tower in six-inch stilettos is making you agitated. Not to mention fear for your safety.

Tony likes to keep the place spotless, and the floors were routinely moped and shined. You indirectly thought how expensive that service must be for Tony because of all the team members coming and going from missions, and the occasional Stormbreaker drop that Thor exuberantly does.

Screw that! He’s the one that put you up to this. If he wasn’t such a playboy, billionaire, genius, philanthropist, you’d be sitting in your room right now basking in the light of the moon, singing to your heart’s content. But noooo.

~ “Think of the women,” Tony said.

“What women?! I don’t need a fashion show to help with my game, Tony.” You yelled back.

“No the battered women?”

“THE WHAT NOW?! How is walking down a runway for Victoria’s Secret going to help the women?” You growled back.

“Well, with the large paycheck that I, and by ‘I,’ I mean my fifty some-odd lawyers, negotiated for you, you can easily donate it to that wonderful charity you’ve been volunteering at.” You clenched your fist and your eyes started turning their gleaming white. You were close to losing it and using your divine powers.

“RiRi,” Natasha crooned in your ear whenever your powers started coming to the surface. She laid her hand on your shoulder. “I am so sorry. I should’ve asked you first. I should’ve been the one to tell you,” she said glowering a death stare at Tony. “They had initially asked me, and I had agreed, but now with this mission the team has me going to, I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Why not Wanda, or Val? Hell, do you want me to call Gamora down? I can find her. I will,” you said resolutely. She shook her head no. You relaxed your fist and slumped down onto the nearest chair with a sigh. Your eyes had returned to their normal color.

“There are so many better options than me. What if I trip? What if there’s a wardrobe malfunction? I don’t think I’m ready. I look nothing like those models. Everyone will just laugh. Or they’ll feel pity or smug. And what’s worse is that they’ll be right to make fun of me. Oh, look! There’s that token avenger…”

“STOP! Stop it this instant!” Tony yelled. “You are the goddess of the moon, the ‘Siren’s Call’. You are Mayari. You are not a token anything! You are one of the most important, most cunning, most alluring beings to have graced this planet. All those qualities, by their very nature, make you an important part of this team! And more beautiful than any of those models to share that runway with you. Don’t ever EVER forget that you are a goddess! Hmm?” Tony pinched your chin. “I don’t like anyone talking bad about my team. Even when it’s they themselves.” He then turned to Nat, raising an eyebrow, almost as if he were asking her if he did well. Nat smiled at Tony’s heartfelt decree.

“Plus, I’ve seen you in a swimsuit babe. You killed it! You look fabulous. Trust me.” Nat added. ~

That was the night of Tony’s birthday. Before you had started dancing, before the drinks and the heartache. Nat and Tony pulled you to the side and asked for a favor, a birthday wish. How can you say no then? Especially when one of the smartest people you know tells you that you have importance and one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen tells you, you look fabulous.

So, you didn’t…say no that is. And here you are, practicing late at night because you’re still embarrassed about the whole thing. You rarely, if ever, walked in heels. You didn’t own anything higher than short kitten-heels and the one-inch boots you wear when you’re on your missions. You preferred the feel of grass beneath your bare feet. Or the waves lapping your ankles.

“Ugh,” you groaned begrudgingly sinking into one of the chairs in the living room.

“What has upset you so, goddess? Tell me, and I will strive to make the punishment so fitting that they will never cross you again.” Loki had surprised you. You didn’t know anyone else was up this late. How had I not seen him? He had just turned a page in the book he held, not even looking at you when he addressed you.

Unceremoniously, you lifted one of your legs and placed your stiletto-clad foot on top of the coffee table. He glanced at your feet, his eyes darkening at the sight of your delicate feet pointed. Graced with black patent leather, he bit his lower lip quickly and looked back to his book, hoping you didn’t see the hunger in his eyes.

“Is there a place in hell for shoes that torment you?" you responded. "Please, enlighten me on how you will exact your punishment on my six-inch heels?” you laughed. “Have you been sitting there this whole time?” At this, he finally looked up at your face. You offered him a smile, which he returned.

“I’ve been sitting here for the better part of the evening. Why are you wearing those if they disagree with you?” He asked.

“I’m practicing.” You answered. He looked confused. “How to walk.” You continued. He still looked confused. “In these hellbent contraptions! Tony…” at the mention of his name, Loki rolled his eyes, “…has enlisted me into participating in a fashion show. I’m going in place of Natasha,” you offered quickly as an explanation. He’s probably wondering why they chose you. “She’s been pulled for a classified mission, and she doesn’t know whether she’ll be back in time for the show.”

“Ah, I see." Loki paused for a moment before he added, "But what exactly is a fashion show?”

“Oh. It’s a showcase of an artist’s creation. Usually, garments, clothing, or accessories. They have people walk down a stretch of the stage wearing their designs to show people.” You forget that the Asgardian brothers are not from Earth. Unlike them, you had spent your long life here watching the humans evolve and develop under your family’s patronage. “Do they have anything like that on Asgard?”

He shook his head, no. “So, you are participating as a sort of model?”

“Yes. I will have to walk using these shoes. Well, not these particularly. I borrowed these from Natasha. I usually walk with sandals or boots, I figured I should practice.”

“May I offer any assistance?”

“Thank you, but I’m not sure there’s anything you can help me with. I just have to practice and get used to it.” You looked out to the floor-to-ceiling windows that have graced the east side of the room. The city lights are so bright. Even from up on the highest floor of the tower.

You thought about the night of the party. You still felt anxiety every time you thought about it. Ever since then, you’ve worn baggier clothes. Less form-fitting, more covered. How will you ever get the courage to walk up onto that stage wearing close to nothing?

“It’s hard to feel confident,” you pondered. “Especially when these floors are so slippery that one wrong move will probably break my ankles.” You paused jokingly, as a scheme entered your mind. “Hmm, maybe then I won’t have to do the fashion show.” You said with a grin.

“I will not allow you to hurt yourself…” Loki interjected.

“It would just be a tragic accident!” you signed, feigning scandal. Knowing very well his allspeak would be able to translate for you.

“…accident or otherwise. Just so you can dodge your responsibilities,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes then and gave Loki a soft smile. “Besides, I have seen you walk onto a battlefield, my lady, you are glorious!”

An errant blush spread throughout your face. You signed and said, “Thank you, your highness,” returning his manners. You got up to walk down the hall and continued to practice up and down.

If your hips swayed a little more, that couldn’t be helped. You didn’t know if he was watching you, but you’ll give him a show anyway. Practice, babe. Practice.

All Loki could hear for the next half hour were the sounds of you walking on the floor. Savoring each click of your heels, calling out to that primal part of him in his core.

Click. Clack. Click.

He’d been listening to you “practice” for the last hour before you joined him in the living room, whispering obscenities and cursing Tony and Natasha under your breath. He wondered if you’d seen him sitting here in the common area. He almost made his presence known when you slipped and fell but caught yourself on the kitchen island.

When you sat down across from him, clearly, you’d known he was here, right? The sound of your defeated anguish broke his heart. So, he finally asked you what has been plaguing your mind. Your surprised stare caught him off guard. You were so distraught that you were not even paying attention to your surroundings. Not paying attention to him.

He did not expect the display of your feet on the center table in a remarkable pump. He noted that black leather, with a thin strap around your ankle, and some of your toes peeping out, painted red. What was most impressive was the length of the thin, round heel.

Six inches, she said. And they look as deadly as any of the daggers I keep on me. His eyes had started to travel up your legs of their own volition. You had been wearing your sleep pajamas and a too-large shirt that was only hanging on one shoulder. You looked breathtaking.

After your talk, he watched you get up with newfound confidence and sashay out back into the hallway, hypnotized by your hips. He would listen for your heels, tempting him to act. When you walked back down the hall, that’s when he would watch you from the corner of his eyes. Then feign reading his book when you turned about-face. I need to know more about this fashion show. Especially if it means watching her walk in those delicious heels.

Click. Clack. Click.

His resolve was wearing thin. He can feel himself grow, pulsing, keeping in time with the sound of your heels.

~ He came up behind you. You didn’t have enough time to react. You just heard a low growl and your name. You turned to see Loki so close behind you, your noses kissed.

“Loki?” You said breathlessly. He pinned you against the wall. His left hand holding your wrists high above your head. His hips ground against yours in a sinful rhythm. He kissed you! Oh gods, did he kiss you. His lips were merciless as he took your bottom lip in between his teeth.

“Oh, kitten. Say my name again.” He whispered into your lips as his other hand worked to undo the fastenings on his pants.

“Make me!” You challenged. Oh! He likes you feisty.

“With all my pleasure.” He growled into your ear. Loki lifted you and squeezed your ass closer to his body. You wrapped your legs around his waist and continued to kiss him. You pulled his hair, causing him to tilt his head, giving you access to his pulsing neck. You marked him with love bites and you were rewarded with little cries that fell between pain and pleasure.

You could feel his hard length rubbing you with his strides as he walked you both over to the kitchen, settling you on top of the kitchen counter. He ran his hands under your shirt, feeling your soft skin. His fingers traced the outline of your bra over your breasts as he pulled your shirt up and over you. He grew impatient when he saw your heaving chest, panting for him. He used his seidr to take everything else off, including his own clothes. Everything, except your delectable pumps.

He gently pushed you back, wordlessly telling you to lie down. You arched your back as your burning skin met the coldness of the marble.

He didn’t wait. He lifted your legs and positioned them over his shoulders. His head in between your feet. In between the six-inch heels that were now dangling next to his ears. He turned his face to kiss you on your ankle. Right where the straps held onto your foot. A kiss to distract you from his dominating entrance into you.

You cried out at being full. His girth burning you. He tried to ease your pain with love bites of his own at your ankle. Smaller pains to hide the delicious sting that was in between your legs.

Norns, he was not prepared for this. Your tightness overwhelmed him. He started thrusting inside you quickly and you had bitten down on your lips so you wouldn’t make a noise. You rested your hands above your head, holding onto the edge of the counter.

“Say my name, kitten,” Loki said as he took his length out of you and slammed back inside with no remorse.

“Ahh, oh god…”

“Yes. I am. Now, my name.” He roared as he kept his rhythm. Thrusting inside you. He could feel your velvet walls tighten around him even more. His hands moved down to your thighs, bruising your skin. He held on tighter to go deeper, ramming into you faster and faster.

“Faen! You feel so good.” He didn’t relent from his attack. Your sharp heels sway next to his face with each of his thrusts. His push was getting faster and careless. He was so close. He could feel his high edging him to go over. But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t until he knew he was giving you the same euphoric pleasure like he was receiving. “Oh, kitten…please, for the love of…Uuh…say my name!”

“Lo…ohgodloki…”

“Yes.”

“Loki don’t stop. Gods, baby don’t stop.” You yelled out his name one last time, pushing you both over the line. Falling into bliss, he stills inside you. You can feel him pulse as he continues to pour himself inside your thick walls.

~ Loki let out a garbled sigh. “I can’t take this anymore,” he whispered to himself as he palmed his growing erection through his trousers. His imagination was running away with him again. You occupied his every waking thought, and each thought would get more sultry and provocative.

Loki got up from the chair and headed towards his bedroom wanting to get to his room quickly. He would have to remedy this himself like he often did as of late whenever he found himself having fantasies about you. He stopped when you were walking down the hallway towards him. You were still practicing, looking down at your steps. One foot in front of the other.

Okay, one more lap, and then I’ll turn in for the night, you thought. You looked up to see Loki standing in the middle of the hallway. He was awkwardly holding his book in front of him.

“Mayari,” he called out. You liked the way he said your name. Like a heated caress. The ‘R’ in your name making him growl.

“I was just about to retire for the evening, and I wanted to bid you a good night,” he whispered.

“Oh. Thank you. Good night, Loki,” you responded with a warm smile. He stilled for a moment. His breath caught in his lungs when you said his name. He passed you then, taking care not to touch you, but not being able to look away either.

He gave you a nod, then he quickly opened and shut his door in one swift move. Did I bother him? I must’ve annoyed him. The heels on the floor make such a loud noise. He probably wants to read in a quieter place. I should apologize next time I see him.

The following weeks were pretty mundane. You still practiced with the stilettos. However, you’ve gotten confident with them and wore them so often that they didn’t bother you so much anymore. You even wore them around during the day. Much to Loki’s dismay.

The mission that had occupied The Black Widow proved to be more difficult. Cap had assembled the rest of the team to help her, even Loki had a role to play. Since they needed someone to guard the tower and become a point of contact between the other agents, you volunteered. Much to the relief of Tony and Steve.

You were left to guard the tower and were responsible for lending support in comms or as a researcher. At least you got to stay by yourself. You were such an introvert these days. The place was rarely deserted. The only people around were some of the S.W.O.R.D. agents or building staff on the lower floors.

“Lady Mayari,” FRIDAY chimed in. “Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you that the mission was a success. Some of the team will be heading back, as soon as tomorrow.”

“Thank you for the update FRIDAY.” I guess I only have one night left. I should make use of the alone time. You sat in front of the baby grand piano that was in the common area and started humming a tune. You did not sing when people were around. Heck, when you first got here, you barely talked. You longed for nights like this. When everything just comes together for you. You were singing for you, and not for some experiment Tony wanted to do, or for some mission.

When the moon was full and round, like tonight, your powers were exponential. One step under the moonlight and your hair changed color to a glowing silver-blue. As if each strand was moonlight itself. Your left eye gleamed as if it was unable to contain the power within you.

The most striking change were the tattoos that would overtake your body. Tribal markings noting the origin story of your people and how you and your sister came into being. Each stroke shone like it was drawn with silver ink on your skin.

The giant east windows behind you showed the sprawling city and its bright lights. With the moonlight pouring in from the cloudless sky, you didn’t need to turn the lights on in the room. You just sat in companionable darkness, stroking the keys, wistfully hoping a song will overtake you. With your hair hanging and pooling down almost to the floor, you started singing one of your favorite songs.

"I lie in an early bed, thinking late thoughts. Waiting for the black to replace my blue. I do not struggle in your web, Because it was my aim to get caught. But daddy long legs I feel, That I’m finally growing weary Of waiting to be consumed by you. Give me the first taste. Let it begin. Heaven cannot wait forever. Darling, just start the chase. I’ll let you win, But you must make the endeavor."

Everyone was tired. What was supposed to be a data retrieval mission turned out to be a Black Widow rescue mission.

She was compromised and nearly most of the team had to come out to incapacitate her enough to take her back. Stark and Rogers were tight-lipped about the objectives of Romanoff's mission. But Loki surmised that it had something to do with Dreykov and getting his hands on you and your powers.

Loki had used his cloning ability to confuse Romanoff long enough for the team to capture her. Bruce was with her right now, trying to reverse whatever serum or hypnotherapy that they used on her. Whatever it was, Loki was glad that you were at home under the protection of the other agents. If you were with them and happen to get caught, he wouldn’t know what he would do.

“Great job today, Loki. That was quick thinking on your part with the clones.” Rogers held his hand out for Loki to shake it.

“Thank you?” Loki took it hesitantly and shook his hand. He had never gotten a congratulatory handshake from the captain before.

“FRIDAY, inform RiRi that the mission was a success and that most of us will be home sometime tomorrow.” Stark was piloting the quinjet and Loki was all too embarrassed that he looked up and was excited when he heard him say your nickname.

Loki imagined you in that tower by yourself. I wonder what she does when no one’s around. Probably walking in those heels again. Loki let out an audible sigh. Seeing you in those heels did something to him. Maybe I can project myself and catch her practicing. The thought was so enticing he wasted no time trying to find a quiet corner of the jet and settle into a chair. He would act asleep and tired so no one would bother him and break his concentration.

Moments later, a green light shimmered by the elevator doors. The entire floor was dimly lit. She must be asleep, he thought. He quieted and strained to hear the click-clack of your feet in the hallway.

Instead, he heard a beautiful alto voice singing over a piano. He walked closer to the living room, his heart racing knowing already who he would find sitting there.

He knew he should leave. Your singing voice is dangerous. You had been practicing controlling your powers and limiting them. You can now sing without compelling someone, but you rarely do it because you were overly cautious. Plus, you didn’t know that he was here, you could easily compel him.

But he couldn’t make himself go back to the jet. Your voice was smooth and slow like syrup. It crept under his skin wanting to saturate his body until it found purchase in his heart. There, it solidified, and he would be under your control until you stopped singing or the moon sets, and the sun rises.

"Oh, your love gives me a heart contusion. Adagio breezes fill my skin with sudden red. Your hungry flirt borders intrusion. And I’m building memories On things we have not said. Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly my love. Not nearly my love, not nearly. Give me the first taste. Let it begin. Heaven cannot wait forever. Darling just start the chase. I’ll let you win. But you must make the endeavor."

What he saw, when he peeked around the corner into the room, he will never forget. The light of the moon had caressed you. Your entire being. As if you were light itself. You looked so carefree. So unguarded.

He realized that you had been so restrained this whole time, unable to sing in front of the team like the way you’re doing now. To have this amazing and powerful gift, but also be stifled by it. Loki couldn’t help the mix of emotions he felt. Breathtaking awe, deepest heartache, an uncontrollable urge to kiss you.

He noticed though, that he didn’t feel the compulsion in your voice. Why is that? Maybe it’s because his true heart was not here, but on the jet? Or maybe, she’s gotten so masterful at controlling her powers. A question to ask Stark later. Right now, he was savoring the moment of you singing. As if you were singing about him, to him, and only him.

A shadow crept up from the window outside and obscured you. It blocked the moonlight, making the entire room go dark with you being the only source of light. You turned to see what it was then ran behind the piano to hide.

An explosion of bullets fired at the window, but the glass pane held still. Thank you, Stark, for bulletproofing every window on the tower! Loki didn’t waste any time and returned his projection to the quinjet to warn the others.

“HURRY! We must get to the tower. NOW! Mayari’s in trouble!” Loki yelled.

“Wha…” Stark was interrupted by FRIDAY, “Mr. Stark, the tower is under attack. A heavily armed fighter jet has fired through one of the windows on the 90th floor and is now being infiltrated by masked men.” Stark looked back at Loki questioningly but wasted no time in pushing the quinjet to full speed.

“FRIDAY, inform Bruce of the situation and tell him that we would just have to treat Nat at the tower. Go ahead and order anything he might need and have it sent to his lab.” Stark flew into action.

“Also, FRIDAY, can you do a lockdown on the facility. Make sure no one goes in or out.” Added Rogers. Everyone was buckling in now. Securing themselves as the jet goes Mach 2.

“Already activated, Captain,” she responded.

“Where are the other agents or the building staff?” The Witch, Maximoff asked.

“They were ordered to stay put before the lockdown was initiated by Lady Mayari,” FRIDAY answered.

“Why would she tell them to stay away? She could use the backup from the agents. They’re all trained,” Barnes grumbled aloud.

“She was singing.” All eyes turned to Loki. At that moment, he must’ve revealed something about himself to the team. Let them think whatever they want. As long as we get back to her in time. “I’m sure she didn’t want to compel the agents.”

Thor whispered to Loki, “How could you know that, brother?” sitting right next to him, strapping his seatbelt. Loki just looked him in the eyes and thought because I love her. Because I couldn’t stand another moment not seeing her smile, or hear her voice, or smelling the perfume in her hair. So, the pervasive side of me wins every time and I try to watch her. Watch over her.

Loki looked away, refusing to answer Thor’s question aloud. If she survives this, I will do everything in my power, to be honest with her about my feelings.

“The funny thing about facing death is that it puts everything else into perspective,” Thor said as he continued to give Loki a knowing stare. Loki looked back at his brother. For such an oaf, he can be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. Loki nodded his acknowledgment and turned away praying to the fates everything will turn out ok.

“When we land, Tony, Wanda, Thor, and I will head up to the 90th floor and engage the enemy. Bucky, help Bruce with Nat. When you’re done helping Bruce, circle around and help Sam, Loki, and Clint. You guys canvas the perimeter and help any civilians caught in the crossfire in and out of the tower.” Rogers planned.

“The hell I will!” Loki fired back. “I’m going with you.”

“Ok, you and Wanda can switch places. We would need a magical member of the team to help with anything unexpected.”

“We’re about to land,” Stark interrupted. The hangar doors opened in the back of the jet. “Anyone who can survive is more than welcome to jump. Vis, land the jet, please. Join Bruce in the lab when you’re done.” With that, Tony’s suit assembled itself onto him as he jumped off the lip of the door. There was a small boom and the contrails of his suit, flying towards the tower.

“C’mon Clint. Where do you wanna be dropped off?" Wilson asked as they both took off. The Falcon’s metal wings unfurled as he jumped off catching Barton, trapeze style.

Thor clapped one hand on Loki’s shoulder to show support and then jumped off with a run. Maximoff gave Vision a peck on the cheek before she gracefully floated off the back end of the jet.

“Go after’em. We’ll be fine here.” Bucky said to Steve and Loki.

“I’ll wait for the jet to land, make sure everyone here is good. Go Loki,” Rogers said.

Loki teleported himself to where he last saw you in the common room. The lights were all on this time. Even though the metal panes were still up from the lockdown protocol, one of the glass windowpanes had shattered all over the floor, spreading to the hallway and kitchen. Several feathers from the down pillows strewn across the room and some were still floating down from who knows where.

The piano was severed in half. Oh, Norns. Where is she? The ballistics had hit straight through the living room and taken out part of the kitchen island. But there you were. Standing with your back towards him. A long dagger in each hand, slightly crouched waiting for the assailants to make a wrong move. There were about four of them sitting down looking like they were restrained, but there were no ropes or handcuffs that he could see.

“Mayari?!” Someone is here. You could hear the glass crack under their footsteps. The familiar chill ran up your spine, giving you comfort. Loki had said your name. Quietly, reverently, trying to get your attention. But you couldn’t answer back, you were whispering a song. You had to concentrate, or the call would break, and the intruders would wake up and try to fight again. One of the metal pane windows opened to let Iron Man in. Thor followed in soon.

“RiRi?” Ironman called out to you. Loki waved him back, telling him to stay put.

“She’s singing to keep the intruders bound and sitting. Clever girl.” Loki himself sat down, just to the right of your leg, looking up with pride.

“Easy enough fix. FRIDAY, noise-canceling on the helmet, please.” Ironman then procured zip ties from somewhere in the kitchen and tied up each of the assailants’ hands to their feet. Thor had stayed behind, not wanting to hear your song.

When Ironman finished the knot on the last person, you slumped forward and swallowed. Your mouth was so dry. Loki was beside you with a bottle of water instantly. The intruders tried to wiggle their limbs free, but Thor quickly decked them over the head each with the blunt end of Stormbreaker, causing them to get knocked out.

“Are you alright milady?” Thor asked.

“Yes. Thank you. I’m just a little parched. I’ve been singing for a while. Even before the tower got attacked.” You leaned against Loki, exhausted from fighting four assailants at once. He held out a supporting arm around you, holding you up. He was looking you up and down, watching for any injuries you might’ve sustained. It looked like you had some cuts and some minor bruises on your arms and legs. Little slits of red were covering your glowing marks.

“I will cut off a finger for every bruise and cut you have received by their hands.” He whispered closely in your ear. Your brows furrowed in response.

He cupped your face and saw your left eye swelling. There was a small cut on your left cheek. You winced when his thumb ran against it. His brows furrowed in anger and his eyes glinted clear and sharp like glass. “I will ensure that they lose their entire hand for this,” he growled menacingly. There was anger in his eyes. Yet, he was so gentle with you as he brushed your hair away from your face.

He is so dangerous, your mind told you. You’ve never seen him like this before. He looked so lethal. You knew he could be deadly. You’ve seen footage from New York all those years ago and you heard of what he did with your attacker, allegedly, all those nights ago from Tony’s birthday. You knew what he was capable of. Yet, he’s never let you see this side of him before.

He walked you over to a barstool to sit. He stood behind you with an arm around your waist, supporting you so you don’t fall. You leaned back into him, relishing in the warmth and strength of his embrace.

He’s been protective and sometimes overly amorous since that night. You and Loki had gotten close with witty banter and come-hither looks. Even then, you had always questioned his true intentions. You wanted to believe that something was there. You also couldn’t trust that it was you and not your call that’s making him want to be around you.

Your heart started beating quicker, and your breathing was thick. You held his hand and intertwined your fingers with his. You turned yourself within his embrace, facing him, and rested your head on his chest. You hoped that it will distract him enough from his murderous thoughts. What is it about a man, nay a god, declaring that he will avenge you? Why did you find his fierce protectiveness over you so enticing?

“I’m fine, Loki. Really. You don’t need to worry about me.” You placated looking up at him.

“What happened?” Tony asked, taking off his helmet. “We were headed to the compound upstate to spend the night, then Rudy here said we had to come back to the tower.” You looked at Loki again, eyebrows furrowed. How would he know? You didn’t even have time to tell FRIDAY to inform the team, just enough time to initiate lockdown.

Just then Captain America barged in through the stairwell door. Taking in the scene, “Is everyone ok?” he asked. You each gave an affirmative nod or thumbs up. “I took out the fighter plane hovering around the tower. There was only the pilot left. He’s in holding downstairs.” Then to his earpiece, “Enemies subdued up here. How are things down with you Sam?” the Captain said. A short pause, then “Alright. Everyone, get up here, debrief in 15, then maybe we can all get some sleep.”

You sat at the edge of your bed. Unable to fall asleep. The shock was just bubbling under your skin wanting to surface. You wanted to call your sister, but you didn’t want to worry her. And you were just so tired. You had this mask on with Tala, putting up an act whenever you talked with her. Not that you were ever insincere, but Tala can be such a handful and so exuberant.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“It’s open.” You called out. Loki slowly opened the door. His eyes scanned your room until he found you perched on the bed. You were still transformed, with your hair and skin still glowing.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” he whispered.

“No. Not at all. I was having trouble sleeping actually.” You looked at your phone. It says it’s almost two in the morning. You let out a big sigh. “I’m not going to be coherent come morning time.” You looked at Loki and patted the seat next to you in bed.

“I wanted to see if you were all right. You looked kind of shaken at the debriefing.” He moved closer to take the seat next to you in bed. He had already changed into his sleep clothes. A long-sleeved green Henley scrunched up to the elbows with black pajama bottoms.

“I was. I still am,” fidgeting with your fingers. You looked out towards the floor-to-ceiling windows of the seating area in your bedroom. “You know, some nights, I would just grab my pillows and blanket and just plop myself on the floor over there. Under the light of the moon. I would lay there all night watching the moon dance past in the sky until I would fall asleep.” Your voice broke, betraying the calm façade you had on.

“I don’t…I had just gotten ‘ok’ over that whole ordeal with Jacob. I don’t want to be scared in my own home, Loki. I’m so tired. Of everything.” You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stop the sob that was threatening to leave your lips.

You tried to hide it behind your hands. A wave of exhaustion broke through the surface of your calm, shaking your hands, making your body shiver. Your body was trying to expel all the extra energy and feelings bottled up inside. “I’m so very tired. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this?”

Loki put his arms around you and squeezed your shoulder before he started soothing your arm up and down. The sound of your heartache was potent. Almost as strong as your call. He felt your grief and your fear. “You were brilliant tonight, darling. Why do you think Stark trusts you here by yourself?”

“Because I don’t raid his liquor cabinet?”

“No! Wait…you don’t do that? I thought everybody did that.”

“Hence, why he trusts me by myself.” You let out a quiet giggle.

“There’s my happy girl.” You placed your head on his shoulder. Putting your arm behind him in a sort of hug. “He leaves you here by yourself because he knows you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. Those intruders, knew that you were a force to be reckoned with, and that’s why it took all four of them to come out, and even then, they were not enough to take you down.”

He lifted your chin to face him. He looked at your pearlescent eyes, “I’m not saying to stop being afraid. It’s ok to be afraid. Just know, that one day, you will get over this fear. Just like you did that night with the imbecile. Let it run its course. And when you do jump that hurdle, I want you to remember that you are something to be feared as well.” You looked into his eyes. An unspoken emotion hiding behind the depths. “What was that slogan that trended around that time… ‘I am a goddess.’ No truer words were said, my dear.”

It was almost as if you could see exactly what he was trying to say. You looked down at his lips, soft but strong. He brushed his thumb on your good cheek and cupped your face. You leaned into his touch. Looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Oh, how you longed for him to touch you this way.

His brows furrowed. Then he quickly stood up and moved away cutting off all contact with you. You were sitting there holding your arms out around where he sat. You folded in on yourself. “I’m sorry. I just…” you grabbed a pillow and tried to hide behind it.

“No. No. Please do not apologize. It should be me to um…I don’t want to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state. I want our first kiss not because you’re scared darling, or you seek comfort…” He said running his fingers through his hair. Why did I stop? This is why there’s always miscommunication between us, he thought.

He got close, leaning over you, trapping you in between his arms on your bed. You leaned back from his sudden closeness. You held on to his upper arms, catching yourself before you fell back onto your bed. “…I want it to happen because you couldn’t control yourself any longer. I don’t want there to be any other thought but for me in your mind. Because darling, when I finally kiss you, I guarantee that I would not be thinking of anything else but you at that moment.” He whispered at your lips.

His words made your body forcibly moan. “When you finally kiss me?” you whispered. He closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath.

“I should go. Are you…are you ok?” He asked as he righted himself up.

“Yeah. Yes. Just…great.” You might’ve said that last word too breathy. Hopefully, Loki wouldn’t pick up on that.

He took your hand in his. “Remember what I said, ‘you are a goddess.’ I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed your hand, then let go. He left your room, but you continued to stare at the door after he left, willing him to come back in. I think I need to raid Tony’s liquor cabinet.

Loki leaned against your door, wondering if he should go back in or not. Norns what have I done. Why did I leave?! Of all the stupid, cowardly things to do. I had promised to be honest with her. Looks like I even lie to myself. I always break my promises, don’t I? She was so perfect, so receptive. I can still feel her breath on my lips. Does she feel the same way about me?!

NO! She’s just scared right now. She’s seeking comfort. All I could offer her was violence, like the monster I am. I would be no better than that rotten fiend if I took advantage of her vulnerable state like that. She needs to come to that decision when she’s happy and willing. Not seeking comfort because she’s afraid. Ok. It’s decided then. I will help her find her peace first.

Loki wanted to go down to the holding cells and have ‘a word’ with the captives, but Vision was there keeping watch. Angry that he could not convince the android to leave and exact his justice, he went back to his room and had gotten a few hours of sleep.

Not quality sleep. He kept tossing and turning, thinking about your face so close to his. He gave up and started reading instead. It was a welcome distraction when Thor came into his room inviting him to go sparring with him. Maybe that would get him tired enough to get a few more moments of sleep. Loki hoped that Thor wouldn’t ask him about his feelings for you. He didn’t know how to explain it himself.

“So, you fancy Lady Mayari,” Thor said out of the blue.

With all hope gone, “Brother, I’d rather not discuss this right now,” as he lunged at Thor with a blunt practice dagger.

Thor blocked the advance, “Is she the person you talked about months ago when we were in New Asgard? When did it start? Your feelings for her? I’ve never seen you act this way about anyone before.”

Loki nodded his head with a sigh. “When do notes become music? When do words become poetry? Or have they always had the potential just never the right composer? Or the right poet?”

“You fancy yourself poetry now, do you?” Thor going on the offensive, swinging Stormbreaker.

Loki slid to his left, turned, and hit Thor in the back of his ribs as Thor’s momentum propelled him forward. “Well, with moves like mine brother, how could I not?” Loki raises his arms, flashing his signature grin.

Sparring with Thor had energized him. The opposite of what he wanted to achieve. They both made their way up the elevators towards the common rooms to grab some light breakfast. People were still asleep. It’s almost nine in the morning, but last night’s excitement was enough to keep people languid in bed. They were greeted by music playing over FRIDAY’s speakers.

“There’s times when I want something more. Someone more like me. There’s times when this dress rehearsal Seems incomplete. But you see the colors in me like no one else And behind your dark glasses, you’re You’re someone else.”

You were standing in front of the griddle with Wanda, cooking breakfast for the entire team. Vision was on the counter next to Wanda juicing what looked like a whole tree worth of oranges and Wilson was mixing a batter of some sort. The kitchen was still in pieces after last night’s debacle.

Loki didn’t think that anything was possible to cook with the state of the kitchen. Leave it to a goddess to perform a miracle. He was silently grateful that he did not have to settle for one of Thor’s favored PopTarts or protein bars.

“The sorceress and the goddess are cooking! This will be an excellent feast. Thank you, my friends,” Thor had said.

“Hey, I’m here too. You see me mixin’ this batter?!” Sam said.

“Of course, Sam. Your pancakes are the stuff of legend. I always say that you make the best pancakes!” Thor said nervously. Loki rolled his eyes and went over to stand by you to help.

“You know some real bad tricks And you need some discipline. But lately, you’ve been trying real hard And giving me your best. And you give me the most gorgeous sleep That I’ve ever had. And when it’s really bad I guess it’s not that bad.”

Loki watched you mouthing the lyrics quietly and moving your hips to the rhythm of the song. She looks like she is well-rested, despite the events of last night.

He was taking in the sight of you as his eyes traveled up your body to your strong shoulders, your delicate neck, your full lips, and then your bright eyes. You had a look of surprise in them as you turned away. You hadn’t noticed him standing next to you.

“Almost done?” he held a plate out for you as you started searching for it. His sudden appearance so close to you, startled you from your reverie. It reminded him of the last time he teased you while cooking breakfast.

You started blushing, the color in your cheeks deepening. Maybe she remembers too. Loki couldn’t help but run his finger down your cheek as if the blush were mere paint that could wipe off.

“Will you take me?” Loki’s eyes went wide. What did she just ask me? How bold of her. How enticing! “Loki?! Are you ok?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, will you take that plate to the table for me? Please.”

“Oh. OH. Of course, milady.” Loki turned and left trying to hide his embarrassment. Thor tried to hide the smirk that was growing on his face.

“Cause underneath it all, You are my real prince Charmin’. Like the heat from the fire, you were always burnin’ Any time you’re around my body keeps callin’ For your touch, your kisses, and your sweet romancin’ There’s another side to you this woman do adore Aside from your tempers, everything is secure You’re good for me baby. Of that I’m sure Over and over again, I want more.”

“Brother, I’ve never seen you out of turn before. It’s quite refreshing, but I hope that you are serious with your intentions for her.” Thor whispered as he grabbed a piece of bacon.

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” Loki responded in an equally hushed tone slapping Thor’s hand off the plate.

“I feel like we have had this conversation.”

“Yes, and like last time it ended with me wanting to stab you with my dagger.” Before Loki could act, you had come along and put a large bowl of eggs down on the table.

“Thor if you eat any more bacon, there wouldn’t be any left for the rest of us.” You laughed. “At least save me one, ya?” You chuckled under your breath. “So, what are you guys talking about?” You said as you took a seat next to Loki.

“We were talking about significant others. Jane is coming over tonight to stay for a couple of weeks. She wanted to see the fashion show. We were planning on having dinner out sometime. You should come join us, milady.” Thor said deviously.

Loki’s hand was on the hilt of his practice dagger, blunt or not he can make it bruise even if it won’t pierce Thor’s skin.

“Oh. I don’t want to be a third wheel or anything. But thank you.” You said shyly. “Is Darcy coming along?” You asked.

“No, unfortunately, Doctor Lewis will be in the middle of lectures, according to Jane,” Thor answered. Loki looked relieved at the news. Thank goodness. I won’t have to sleep on the couch again. Although maybe, I could stay with… Loki looked up at you as he thought.

“Which is even more reason to come out with us. Loki would be there too, of course. Won’t you, Loki? You will definitely not be a wheel.” Loki looked like he was ready to stab him.

“Did you just ask me out on a date, for your brother?” You asked Thor. Your eyes darted back and forth between him and Loki. A grin, plastered on Thor’s face. You responded the only reasonable way, you laughed. “I’m sure Loki has better things to do than to keep me company all night.” Otherwise, he would’ve stayed last night. There, you gave him an out. You tried to hide your blush by taking a sip of your coffee.

“I would love to keep you company all night, darling. I would have asked you myself, eventually. So please don’t let his forwardness scare you.”

“Really?!” You thought about that for a moment. Letting it sink in that he wanted to take you out. But does he want to, or is it because Thor is making him? “Well then, maybe when you ask me, I’ll say yes.” A flirtatious grin crept up Loki’s face. He was about to ask you, you were sure of it, but Bucky had pulled out the chair on your other side, loudly. All three of you looked up to watch him. You turned and said, “Good morning, Bucky.”

“Hey, doll. Ooh look, there’s still bacon left.”

“Yes, I made extra this time.”

“Oh good, I made it in time before Lebowski ate all of it,” Tony said sitting down across from you. Thor grabbed a handful and placed it on his plate, daring anyone else to say anything. You and Loki tried to hide your laugh. You at Tony, and he for Thor.

“Anyways, the fashion show is coming up next weekend. Are you ready RiRi? We all have invites. They gave us good seats too. Then there’s the party afterward.” Tony exclaimed.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered. You had met a couple of the other girls during rehearsals, and they’ve all been so lovely and so supportive. It made showing your body off to strangers a bit more bearable, knowing that the girls were insecure about themselves too.

Of course, you looked nothing like them. They all had lean and lithe bodies. Yours was thicker from the workouts and heavy lifting. And you were definitely shorter.

One of the themes this year was superheroes. It was very fitting since the show was going to be held here at the tower. It made sense now why they had asked for an Avenger to be a part of the show this year. They would convert two whole floors downstairs. One for the runway, and the other for the after-party.

“I’ve made some good friends. Some of them would like to meet you all.” You continued.

“You got model friends, Ri? Victoria’s Secret model friends? Who wants to meet us?” Wilson excitedly asked.

You giggled, “Yes! I can introduce you guys at the party. I hope you all can make it.” You stared around the room, your gaze landing on Loki. He gave you a small smile and a nod of his head.

“Oooh, I’ve never been to a fashion show before. What do we wear?” Wanda chimed in. At that Loki stopped listening to the conversations and started to plan how he would ask you out on a date. The sooner, the better.

⬅️ Chapter 11: Goddess | Chapter 13: Crush ➡️

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