#i was under the impression that we had an Agreement for many years but this suggests they were not in fact aware of me until now lmao

[lovers-instead]

um

[haveagarbageday]

Defeated \\ Charles Leclerc, Oscar Piastri, Jenson Button

summary: Charles and Oscar both fall in love with you, and they do their best to impress you. But you're not interested, and eventually they find out why.

additional info: Mercedes!driver!reader. Jenson won the vote, so here we are. No happy ending for Charles and Oscar. Anyway, I'm like a dog with a bone, I'm not letting that Webber idea go. So expect a story where Oscar loves reader, but he finds out she's with Mark.

warnings: age gap

After the whole adoption joke, the friendship of Charles and Oscar reached a new stage. Sure, they had been friends before, but this shifted the dynamic in the direction of something better, something based on mutual respect. They helped each other, they kept in touch outside race weekends too–to the point Oscar was often invited to family dinners since everyone took that joke far too seriously–and everything was great in general.

That’s until the beginning of the 2025 season. Mercedes announced your arrival the year before, but you were just another rookie, someone they didn’t know that well. But then you scored some precious points on your first race, and you kept up this exceptional performance, eventually challenging your teammate for higher positions. This caught their interest, although they weren’t alone. Many drivers looked at your twenty-two years old self as a little sister, someone they wanted to protect from the sport’s toxic environment.

But these two didn’t see you as a sister, far from that. They had a soft spot for you after getting to know you better, and without ever discussing it, they both started to flirt with you in their own ways. Oscar decided to befriend you first, giving himself the chance to talk to you even when you weren’t in the paddock together, he invited you to hang out with him, and he always made sure to sneak a few sentences that hinted at his intention into your conversations. Charles was more straightforward with his compliments, whether it was related to your driving or the way you looked that day, and he even brought you small gifts, always saying he just happened to think of you when he saw them.

They both noticed what the other was doing, which led to a cold war between the two of them, slowly poisoning their relationship, although they didn’t let it show. They kept talking on the race weekends, they didn’t unfollow each other on social media, but the tone of their conversations became a lot colder. But one day they decided to talk about this, and even though neither of them said it out loud that this was the reason for their meeting, deep down they both knew they had to discuss what they should do.

As they were sitting in the secluded corner of a café back home in Monaco, just a day before they were supposed to head to their next race weekend, Oscar let out a long sigh and took a sip of his coffee and looked over at the door when someone walked in. He wanted to figure out how to bring you up, how to shift the conversation about the upcoming race to you, about the situation they found themselves in.

But Charles seemed to be a step ahead of him, because he cleared his throat to get his attention, then went, “You like her, don’t you?”

The Aussie nodded, a small smile unintentionally creeping on his face at the thought of you. “I believe you feel the same,” he said after a short break.

“What’s not to like?” the fellow driver asked, and the younger man across from him nodded once again in agreement, muttering true under his breath. Charles unexpectedly let out a troubled sigh and leaned back in his chair, a hand now resting on the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but she keeps me at arm’s length. It’s like I’ve been friend zoned.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You too? I thought she was acting like this because she chose you,” he admitted.

His friend watched him with narrowed eyes, his brain in overdrive as he thought about the possible reasons. Did you have someone? Were you focusing on your job instead of looking for a relationship? It must be the latter, after all you had once told him you wanted to survive your first year without any kind of drama. You also said you were using Oscar as a reference point, because he managed to exist in this world with his private life mostly kept private.

“I wouldn’t be here if she chose me. I would spend every free moment with her, but she’s just not interested. What do we do now? I don’t want to forget her, I don’t know if I could,” he said.

The McLaren driver licked his lips and looked down at the cup in front of him. “Me neither. But what if we have no choice? We can’t force her to choose between us,” he began, stopping for a moment while he thought. “What if our attempts are futile and she wouldn’t pick either of us in the end? Maybe it’s time to admit we have no chance.”

Charles let out a laugh as he shook his head. “You can give up if you want, but I’ll keep trying.”

Despite their little competition being perfectly fine until now, Oscar felt the need to set some rules, just so their chances were even. He suggested the other man to tone it down a bit, to stop trying to buy your love with gifts, because those meant a lot to you, you had told him that yourself before. It’s not that he wasn’t ready to shower you with things your heart desired, he just didn’t think it was fair to manipulate you like this. But the Monegasque only laughed at this and said maybe it wasn't him who had to tone it down, maybe it was Oscar who had to step up his game.

Either way, you still didn’t show any interest in them, not romantically at least.

On one race weekend Jenson Button showed up, being there for Williams, but spending some time with Sky Sports too, doing interviews with a few of the drivers. Oscar was waiting for his turn not far from them, watching as you answered the questions with that big smile on your face, and he couldn’t help but smile himself, because it made him fall in love with you again.

Then he heard Jenson go, “I heard you felt a little sick this morning. Do you think it could affect your weekend?”

Your eyes widened, clearly surprised by the question, but it only lasted for a second, because you were quick to respond as calmly as you could. “I’m fine, maybe it’s just some dehydration, I’ll drink more, and I’ll be good as new,” you said with a small smile forced on your face.

After a few more questions it was a wrap for you, and you began to walk away, but Jenson excused himself and went after you, probably to apologize for bringing up your health problem when you hadn’t talked about it yet. As you said, it wasn’t serious, maybe there was no reason to mention it. Now, Oscar didn’t want to eavesdrop, he usually respected other people’s privacy, but neither of you noticed he was nearby, and you began to talk in a normal voice that made it impossible for him not to hear it without walking away.

“What the fuck was that? We agreed, everything that happens behind closed doors stays there,” you hissed angrily.

The Aussie had his suspicions, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But when Jenson let out a sigh and raised his hands in defense, he knew his first instinct was right. “I thought we agreed that you would go to the medical center to figure out what this is. You said you didn’t, what was I supposed to do?” he asked.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “So what, pressuring me on air was the best you could come up with? I’m fine, I already told you, let’s just drop this.”

Jenson took a step closer to you, his hand slowly reaching out to touch you, but he changed his mind last minute. “All right, you’re right, it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you tonight. How does that sound?” You watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good, we’ll discuss the details later. Be a good girl until then.”

After you waved him goodbye and left, he returned to his place in front of the camera, and Oscar was finally told it was his turn. But after seeing this? There was no way he could keep his cool while talking to him, or at least it would take a lot more effort than usual. Now he knew why you weren’t interested in either him nor Charles, and this broke his heart. From all the people around them, you seriously had to pick someone so much older than you? Someone you couldn’t openly date?

In the afternoon, he sent a text to Charles, asking for an emergency meeting in the evening, and so now the two of them were sitting in his hotel room with a bottle of booze and two glasses in front of them. Oscar told his friend everything he had heard and seen that day, and they both became absolutely depressed, hitting the rock bottom by the end of the story. They tried to figure out what to do now, but they agreed that exposing your relationship would have been a terrible move, and they didn’t even feel like intervening.

“Do you think she loves him?” Charles asked with a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling.

Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, she was smiling so brightly, especially when she was talking to him. And Jenson brought up her sickness because he was worried about her, so maybe it’s a mutual feeling.”

Silence fell between them as it became obvious that they had no chance, not before either you or Jenson got bored of the other and broke up. Once they emptied the bottle, Charles stood up and said goodnight, deciding to go back to his own hotel room to get some proper sleep so he could focus the next day. “My heart is already broken, I don’t want my car to be broken too,” he told Oscar before leaving. It was painful, yes, but maybe they would have a chance to fight for you. Maybe one day you would realize that being in a relationship you could openly talk about was much better.

[multi-fandoms-posts]

An Unexpected Encounter: The Umbrella Academy Meets the X-Men

X Men Masterlist

The sun stands high in the sky as the Umbrella Academy teleports onto the expansive lawn of the X-Men estate. Y/N Hargreeves, alongside her siblings, looks around and can’t help but admire the grandeur of the mansion. The garden is immaculate, and at the other end of the lawn, the X-Men stand in a vigilant formation. The tension in the air is almost palpable.

“So, this is it?” Diego asks, nervously twirling his knives.

“Seems like it,” Five mutters, as cool as ever, though his eyes reveal a hint of curiosity.

Y/N steps forward, her gaze sweeping over the assembled X-Men. She can almost feel the mutated abilities swirling in the air, but her attention lands on a man with thick, slightly wavy hair standing calmly and upright among the others. He’s wearing a simple suit, exuding wisdom and power that intrigues her.

Charles Xavier. Y/N feels the corner of her mouth curl into a smirk.

“So, who’s the boss here?” she calls out provocatively, folding her arms. “I’m guessing it’s the guy up front, right? The one with the fancy suit and serious eyes?”

Charles Xavier steps forward slightly, answering in a calm voice, “In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m Professor Charles Xavier. And you must be the Umbrella Academy.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Professor, huh? Does that mean I need to behave and follow the rules now?”

Luther shoots her a warning look. “Y/N, behave.”

But Y/N waves him off. “Oh, come on, Luther. I’m just curious.” She deliberately lets her eyes glide over Charles, her lips curling into a suggestive grin. “It’s not every day you meet a man so... impressive.”

Charles remains outwardly unfazed, though inside he feels a slight flutter. He’s used to reading people—it’s part of his abilities. But Y/N is different. She’s bold, direct, and holds nothing back. She reminds him a bit of Logan, but with a subtle, seductive edge.

Five steps forward, bringing the focus back to the matter at hand. “We’re not here for small talk. We have a shared problem to deal with.”

“Quite right,” Charles replies, though his gaze lingers on Y/N for a brief moment before turning to Five. “We’ve noticed anomalies in the space-time continuum. It seems you’ve been dealing with them as well.”

“We always deal with anomalies,” Five mutters, and the others nod in agreement.

Throughout the discussion about the looming threat, Y/N makes no effort to hide the fact that her eyes frequently wander back to Charles Xavier. Every now and then, she makes a sharp comment about the situation, but often slips in a subtle, ambiguous remark that catches everyone’s attention—especially Charles’.

“So, Charles,” she says at one point, during a lull in the conversation, “what’s it like being the smartest man in the room? Does it feel good? Or does it make you lonely?”

Charles smiles slightly and shakes his head. “I’ve had many years to learn how to handle it.”

“Oh, I bet you’ve got quite a few abilities to handle,” Y/N murmurs, leaning in slightly. “But you know, I could help you feel a little less... lonely.”

The other members of the Umbrella Academy roll their eyes, and Diego mutters under his breath, “Does she really have to go there?”

But Charles remains unruffled. He meets Y/N’s gaze with a touch of amused seriousness. “You’re very direct, Y/N. I appreciate honesty.”

“Oh, I’m always honest,” she replies with a wink. “And you... you’re pretty hot for a guy who can read everyone’s mind.”

This time, Charles briefly glances away, his face remaining calm, but Y/N notices the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. She’s gotten to him.

“Perhaps we should focus on the mission,” Jean Grey, who has remained quiet until now, suggests with a slightly irritated look at Y/N.

“Don’t worry, Jean,” Y/N laughs. “I can multitask.”

As the rest of the group continues to discuss the upcoming events, Y/N can’t help but keep glancing at Charles. There’s undeniable chemistry between them, and even though Charles maintains his composure, he seems intrigued by Y/N’s bold behavior.

When the meeting concludes and the two groups prepare to split up, Y/N suddenly teleports right beside Charles. He doesn’t even flinch—he saw it coming.

“I bet you’ve already played out every possible scenario in your head, huh?” she asks with a teasing smile.

“Indeed,” Charles replies calmly. “But I can’t say I foresaw this conversation.”

“I like that,” Y/N says, stepping a little closer. “Maybe I should surprise you. Take you out of this stiff environment for a change.”

Charles raises an eyebrow as he looks at her. “And where would you take me?”

Y/N grins broadly. “That’s my secret. But I guarantee it’d be an adventure.”

“I’m sure it would be,” Charles says, and for the first time, allows himself a small smile.

“Well then,” Y/N says with one last teasing look before teleporting away. "See you later, hot professor.”

Charles watches her disappear and mutters quietly to himself, “See you later, indeed.”

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

'Fergie'

Featuring former Manchester United boss, Sir Alex Ferguson

It was 2am and after a night at my favorite jazz club, I was sitting in my car and about to go home. But then the figure of the former Manchester United boss, Sir Alex Ferguson, emerged from the darkness and what happened next changed the course of the whole night. We had earlier spent time chatting in Cape Town's Manenberg jazz restaurant after I approached Sir Alex and asked for an autograph for a friend's son.

I remember being surprised by this at the time. Ferguson was 82, already retired, almost a year after the death of his wife, Lady Cathy, who died aged 84 following 57 years of marriage to the former manager. In short, he had plenty on his plate already without being pestered for autographs by a flirty fanboy. And yet there he was, being heavily fawned over by me. I slip a business card of mine into his shirt pocket and pat it lovingly as I made contact with his warm body. Damn! Sir Alex's body is so sexy.

“For when you're in the mood for something different.” I said as I left, making sure I brush my hard bulge up against him.

Outside, I was shaking as I got to my car. Where did that confidence come from? I just touched my cock against a legend, I thought. Just as I was about to open the door, I heard, "Wait.”

I turn around to see Sir Alex walking briskly to catch up with me, "Where are you parked?”

No other words were spoken as I motioned him over, we got into my car, and I started the engine. As I pulled away down the street, I caught glances at Sir Alex ’s sexy body adjusting awkwardly in his seat. As I got to the end of the road, ready to turn left he said, "No, go right. My place. It's more private.”

Nodding in agreement, we arrived at the house a few minutes later after a silent drive. His house was impressive I thought as we both got out of the car and headed to the front door. Once inside, Sir Alex slips off his shoes and puts his keys away, like it’s his normal routine before walking off to another room leaving me to wonder my way in. I notice the trophies and photos on the wall; lots of him and his wife. When I finally made my way to the end of the hall, sitting in a chair sprawled out is Fergie.

My jaw drops as he waves me over. I notice his hand stroke his hard cock through his pants. Looks like a big one, I thought as I walked in front of The Man United legend. He spread his legs apart and pointed down.

“Get to work then.”

I can’t believe it. Sir Alex Ferguson, viewed by many as the greatest manager of all time, is telling me to get to work on his cock. I quickly stepped to him, pushing my face to his. He gives a shiver. Clearly, he’s nervous, but trying to hide it under his masculine facade as he lets me kiss him. That’s more than okay by me, cause its doing wonders as I reached behind his head and pulled it forward as I began a long hard kiss on his mouth. My hand fell to his crotch, feeling that girthy, long cock through the pants, it takes every muscle in my body not to rip his pants off then.

Wanting more, I lay against his body, rubbing my dick against his as I pushed my tongue in his mouth, and he gave a long satisfying moan. I knew he was mine now and I wanted to do the things to him I had imagined for years. I began to massage his chest and nipples over the shirt as he was now trying to lay back in the seat to let this go where we had both wanted it to go for so long.

My hands go for his shirt, skillfully unbuttoning it and running my hands all over his chest and ample belly. I gently kissed each sexy nipple before kissing my way down to his belt buckle. Once there, I began to undo the belt and open the pants that held my quarry confined and imprisoned. With his throbbing cock was bouncing up and down and needed to be held, I quickly stood up, took off my shirt and then freed my hungry cock from its confinement in my pants and underwear.

I dove onto his cock, putting his engorged tool in my mouth, generously filling it and causes my lips to stretch to accommodate it. That cock of his was like a drug as his manly scent fills my nose and sends me to overdrive. I pushed his legs further apart and ran my hand through the hair on his creamy white thighs as sucked his horny cock. I cupped my tongue around the shaft of his cock in my mouth and began to move my head up and down the whole length of his throbbing missile. I could feel the head against the roof of my mouth as I continued to lick and suck and caress the pulsing shaft.

I know he didn't get many blowjobs, if any, from his wife and my love of his perfect body was about to make him burst. He grabs the back of my head and trusts his cock in deeper somehow as he fucks my face. A dream come true; I thought as I felt his pace quicken. His breath does too. He arched his back, as he was about to launch us both to that place, we had both been longing to go. Then the big one hits. He roared and groaned as he fired off his beautiful canon. The first shot goes right down my throat. I pulled back, wanting to taste him. The second is somehow more than the first and it fills my mouth. The last lands over my face as his cock slips from my grasp.

Fergie was now lying still and peaceful as the tension of our love subsided. His eyes were closed, and he was catching his breath as he said, "Please don't let that be all."

As I lay on top of him, Fergie started to spread his legs underneath me and I knew we weren't finished. He wasn't going to go on with his "straight little life" the way I had thought this married man might want to. He wanted it to be more, and he was giving into his feelings. With my erection not subsided, I began to explore his luscious body with my hands.

Looking into each other's eyes, Fergie began to raise his legs, spread them even more. His thick, creamy white thighs were awesome to the touch as his 82 years had not diminished the athlete he once was. I put my hands underneath the beefy legs and raised them more, kissing each shin until his legs touched his chest. He cupped his hands on the back of his legs as I reached for his virgin ass, wetting a few of my fingers. We were still looking into each other's eyes as I got a finger inside him and started to massage his hole. He winced a little and closed his eyes as I took it slow and easy, opening him up.

When I thought he was ready, I raised up as he held his legs up so I could get to his horny hole. I grabbed my dick by the shaft and began rubbing the head up and down in his hairy crack. And as I started to push it into him, he groaned and grabbed me by the shoulders. I couldn't stop as the pleasure of him opening up and letting me sink my throbbing tool into him was too great. And when I was all the way in, Fergie dug his fingers into my back as I heard an "ah" escape his lips.

Finally, after all this time I was buried deep in this handsome man, enjoying the sensation of his virgin ass being wrapped around and squeezing my dick. Looking down, I saw he was hard again and for a man of his age was impressive as I began a rhythmic hip motion. I went in and out; in and out I was riding on a cloud from heaven. I pushed on his legs and tried to go deeper; I wanted him to enjoy giving into my pleasure. He looked up into my eyes and smiled as I continued to push in and out.

That warm sexy smile did it; I felt the tide coming and I went wild. I started to pump him harder and faster. Sensing I was near, Fergie asked me not to come inside him and I obliged by pulling out and finishing by shooting my load on his hot tummy and chest. His dick was still throbbing, and I put my mouth over it to finish this old man off.

The head was red and full on his fully erect penis. I was surprised that he achieved such a full and hard erection at his age. He had recovered fully from earlier and my attention to his dick was really turning him on.

Then without warning he grabbed me by the hair and forced my head down on it as far as I could take it. He began to pump his second load into my mouth. It wasn’t as big as the first, but I took it all and he screamed in ecstasy. It was fantastic to know I could give him so much pleasure. He gently released me and was still hissing through his teeth and breathing frantically.

"Oh god I needed that." He said as lay on top of him.

We stayed like this hugging and snuggling for awhile before I left after promising to see him again.

[realsgwife]

Gloryhole

"How many more hours until we land?" Sally asked, her voice a soft blend of boredom and hope. 

"Just three more," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom, the words echoing through the cabin. 

Her eyes flicked to the younger steward passing by, his name tag glinting in the artificial light. Kenneth. She had noticed him during the pre-flight briefing, his energy a stark contrast to the weariness that seemed to cling to the rest of the crew. 

"Would you like me to bring you anything?" Kenneth offered, pausing in his steps. 

Sally considered the offer, her eyes lingering on the tray of beverages he balanced with ease. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." 

His smile was polite, yet there was something in his eyes that made her look away, a spark of curiosity that seemed to dance around the edges of propriety. She couldn't quite place it, but it was there. 

The flight to Amsterdam dragged on, the hum of the aircraft's engines lulling the passengers into a state of forced tranquility. Sally went through the motions of her job, serving drinks and reassuring nervous flyers, all the while aware of Kenneth's glances. He was new, she had heard, a junior steward eager to make a good impression. 

After the final meal service, she found herself in the galley, her hands trembling slightly as she washed the last of the dishes. Kenneth appeared beside her, his youthful face a stark contrast to her own reflection in the stainless steel. 

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. 

Sally took a deep breath, pushing down the flutter in her stomach. "Just tired," she lied. 

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long before he spoke again. "I know a great place for dinner when we land. Care to join me?" 

Her heart skipped. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her out, especially someone so much younger. But something about the way he said it, the confidence in his tone, made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in years. 

"I'd love to," she said, her voice a little too bright. 

The remaining hours of the flight seemed to stretch on forever, but finally, the wheels of the aircraft touched down on Dutch soil. The passengers applauded, jolting Sally out of her daydream. As they filed off the plane, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for what the night might hold. 

Once they had cleared customs and collected their luggage, Kenneth led her through the bustling streets of Amsterdam. The city was alive with a vibrant energy that made Sally feel both invigorated and slightly overwhelmed. She had been to the city before, but never like this. 

"I know just the spot," he said, guiding her down a narrow alleyway. "It's a local favorite." 

The restaurant was tucked away, a cozy little place with candles flickering on the tables and the scent of garlic and wine in the air. Kenneth ordered for them in Dutch, his accent surprisingly good for someone who had only learned the language for his job. 

The conversation flowed easily between them, a mix of work stories and shared laughter. He was charming, attentive, and she found herself relaxing in his company. The wine helped, too. 

As the meal drew to a close, Kenneth leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "There's something else I want to show you. Something...different." 

Her eyes widened slightly, but she felt a thrill of excitement. "Okay," she said, her voice a breathy agreement. 

They stepped out into the cool night air, the cobblestones slippery under her heels. Kenneth took her hand, leading her through a maze of streets that grew darker and quieter until they stopped in front of a nondescript shop with a green neon sign. 

"This is it," he said, pushing open the door. 

The smell of cannabis hit her like a wave, thick and pungent. Sally had never been in a place like this before, but she didn't protest. Instead, she allowed herself to be led into the warm, dimly lit space, where the walls were lined with jars of colorful buds and the air was hazy with the sweet scent of marijuana. Kenneth moved with ease, pointing out different strains and explaining their effects with the enthusiasm of a sommelier discussing fine wine. 

"So, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. 

"It's...interesting," Sally said, her cheeks flushing. She had always been curious about the infamous Amsterdam coffee shops, but had never had the nerve to visit one alone. 

"You should try it," Kenneth encouraged, his voice a gentle coax. "It'll help you relax." 

They sat in a corner booth, the glow from the neon lights casting an otherworldly hue on their faces. Sally took a tentative puff from the joint he had rolled for her, feeling the smoke fill her lungs before releasing it in a slow exhale. The conversation grew easier as the tension between them loosened, the topics veering from the mundane to the intimate. Kenneth spoke of his past relationships with a candidness that surprised her, and she found herself opening up about her own divorce. 

As the effects of the weed began to settle in, the edges of the world grew softer, the sounds of the city outside muffled. Sally felt a warm buzz spread through her body, a sense of freedom she hadn't experienced in years. Kenneth's hand brushed against hers on the table, and she didn't pull away. 

"Ready for the next adventure?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr. 

Her heart racing, Sally nodded. Kenneth stood, offering her his hand once more, and they left the coffee shop, the night air feeling electric on her skin. They wove through the streets, their destination an adult shop with a neon sign that blinked in the shadows. 

The interior was a riot of colors and textures, a playground for grown-ups with a penchant for the taboo. Kenneth's grip tightened around her hand as they ventured deeper into the store, the air thick with the scent of leather and desire. Sally's eyes widened as she took in the array of toys and devices displayed before her. 

"Let's check this out," Kenneth said, pointing to a curtained-off area in the back. 

Her heart racing, Sally followed him into the dimly lit space. It was a mini-theater, lined with small booths, each with a peephole at eye level. Kenneth's gaze was mischievous as he whispered, "These are the video booths." 

Her cheeks flushed as she realized what they were. "I've never..." she trailed off, not sure if she was ready for this. 

"Come on," he urged, his voice low and thrilling. "It's just a bit of fun. You can watch whatever you like." 

With a deep breath, Sally stepped into one of the booths. Kenneth inserted some coins and the screen flickered to life with a scene that was both shocking and intriguing. She felt a rush of excitement mixed with embarrassment, but also a thrill of curiosity. 

As the minutes ticked by, she found herself drawn into the scenes playing out before her. Kenneth's hand rested lightly on her shoulder, his presence comforting in this alien world. The films grew more explicit, and she felt her body responding in ways she had long forgotten. 

"You should try the gloryhole," Kenneth suggested, his voice thick with suggestion. 

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she couldn't deny the sudden interest that piqued within her. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. 

He chuckled, his hand moving to her chin to turn her face towards him. "It's a hole in the wall," he said, his eyes searching hers. "You can...interact with the person on the other side." 

Sally's heart was racing now, the weed making her senses heightened and her inhibitions lowered. She watched as Kenneth stepped into the booth beside hers, the wall between them thin enough to feel his presence like a heartbeat. The screen in her booth flickered with a new scene, a woman eagerly tasting a man's cock through a similar hole. 

Her eyes darted to the side, where she saw the shadow of a figure moving in the neighboring booth. The man was tall, with dark skin that stood out against the red light that bathed the small space. He had noticed them, his gaze lingering on Sally before he reached down to unbuckle his pants. 

"What are you doing?" she gasped, her eyes wide as Kenneth stepped aside, revealing the gloryhole between their booths. 

"You said you were curious," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Go on, touch it." 

Sally's hand hovered over the gloryhole, her heart racing. The stranger's cock was indeed large and uncut, the skin velvety and unkempt. She could see the shine of pre-cum glistening at the tip. The smell was overpowering, a mix of bodily fluids and something she couldn't quite place. It was definitely not the clean, minty scent she was used to. 

Kenneth's eyes held hers, the dare clear in his gaze. "Go on," he urged, his voice low and hungry. "You know you want to." 

Sally's curiosity won out over her shyness. She leaned closer, her hand shaking as she reached through the gloryhole. The cock in front of her was indeed uncut, the foreskin pulled back to reveal a glistening tip. She took a tentative sniff, the scent of unwashed skin and musk heavy in the air. It was a stark contrast to the pristine hotel rooms and expensive cologne she was used to, but there was something raw and thrilling about it that made her pulse quicken. 

"Go on," Kenneth murmured, his hand sliding around her waist to rest on the small of her back. "You know you want to taste it." 

Sally's heart was racing, but she couldn't deny the thrill coursing through her veins. She leaned closer, her eyes fixed on the stranger's cock, her hand hovering just out of reach. The man watched her, his eyes glinting with lust in the dim light. Kenneth's hand gave her a gentle nudge, and she leaned in, her nose brushing against the velvety skin. The smell was strong, a mix of unwashed flesh and the faint tang of urine. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered before, but she found herself inexplicably drawn to it. 

"Taste it," Kenneth whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "I dare you." 

Sally's eyes flicked to the stranger's cock, the challenge in Kenneth's voice egging her on. She leaned closer, her hand wrapping around the shaft as she took the first tentative lick. The taste was overpowering, a mix of salt and something faintly bitter, the smell of unwashed skin and the musky scent of smegma. It was a world away from the clean, soapedy flavor she was accustomed to. But there was something undeniably thrilling about the raw, unfiltered nature of it all. 

The man on the other side of the wall grunted, his hips jerking slightly. She could feel his excitement through the thin barrier, his cock twitching in her hand. Kenneth's hand slipped around her waist, his fingers ghosting over her hip to rest on her zipper. 

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a sultry whisper. "Show him how much you want it." 

Her resolve crumbling, Sally took the stranger's cock into her mouth, her eyes closing as she savored the sensation. It was thick and heavy, the uncut skin sliding over the head as she sucked and licked. The taste grew stronger, the smell of male arousal filling her nostrils. Kenneth's hand grew bolder, slipping into her pants to find her wetness. 

Her mind raced with the reality of what she was doing, the taboo nature of the act making her pulse pound in her ears. But she couldn't deny the thrill of it, the way her body responded to the anonymous cock in her mouth and Kenneth's touch on her clit. 

The stranger's breath grew ragged, his hands gripping the edges of the booth. Sally's cheeks hollowed as she took him deeper, her eyes watering from the effort. Kenneth's fingers worked in time with her bobbing head, his thumb pressing firmly against her clit. 

"You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and lust. "You're going to make him cum." 

The thought sent a bolt of excitement through her, and she redoubled her efforts, her mouth sliding up and down the shaft with newfound vigor. The man's hips began to buck, his breathing growing erratic. Kenneth's hand was a blur between her legs, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. 

Suddenly, the stranger pulled his cock back, his hand appearing through the gloryhole. "Let me touch you," he rasped, his accent thick and unfamiliar. 

Sally's eyes flew open, meeting Kenneth's intense gaze. He gave her a nod of encouragement, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Go ahead," he whispered, his hand leaving her pussy to give her a gentle push towards the hole. 

Her knees wobbled as she stepped onto the stool, her body now perfectly aligned with the opening. The stranger's hand was rough and warm as it slipped into her pants, his calloused fingers finding her clit with surprising precision. She gasped, her hips bucking slightly against his touch. 

"So wet," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "You like it, don't you?" 

Sally couldn't find the words to respond, her mind a whirl of sensations. Kenneth stepped closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell him how much you like it," he urged, his own hand moving to cup her breast, squeezing gently. 

"Y-yes," she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible. The stranger's fingers worked in tandem with Kenneth's, sending her closer and closer to the edge. Her hand reached back, gripping the wall for support as she rode the wave of pleasure. 

"Tell him you want him," Kenneth whispered, his voice a dark seduction. 

Sally's eyes squeezed shut, the words leaving her mouth in a shaky moan. "I want you." 

The stranger's hand withdrew, leaving her panting and exposed. Kenneth's grip on her waist tightened. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand sliding around to unbutton her blouse. "Now, let him see you." 

Her shirt fell open, revealing her lacy bra and the fullness of her breasts. The stranger's eyes went wide with lust, his cock jutting back through the hole, demanding attention. Kenneth stepped aside, his own arousal evident in his tight pants. 

"Show him," he whispered, his voice a siren's call. 

With trembling hands, Sally reached back, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the booth brushed against her nipples, making them peak with excitement. The stranger's hand reached out again, his thumb tracing a line from her navel to her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. 

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice a gruff growl. "Now, sit on the chair and face me." 

Sally did as she was told, her legs trembling as she sat down, her back to the wall. Kenneth moved behind her, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard peaks. 

The stranger's eyes were glued to her pussy, his hand stroking his cock in a mesmerizing rhythm. "So beautiful," he said, his voice a low growl. 

Sally felt a strange mix of embarrassment and power as she watched him watch her, his desire laid bare. Kenneth's hands moved to her hips, urging her closer to the gloryhole. 

"I want to feel you," the stranger said, his voice hoarse with need. 

Sally leaned forward, her breath hitching as she felt the tip of his cock brush against her folds. Kenneth's hands moved to her hips, guiding her as she slid down onto the stranger's shaft. It was thick and unyielding, filling her in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. 

The stranger's eyes never left hers as she began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. Kenneth's hands remained on her breasts, his thumbs flicking at her nipples, his breath hot against her neck. 

"That's it," Kenneth murmured, his voice a gentle coax. "Take it all." 

The stranger's grip on her hips grew firmer, his strokes growing faster. Sally could feel the tension building within her, the pressure mounting with every thrust. Kenneth leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, searching kiss, his tongue mimicking the movements of the cock inside her. 

"I'm going to cum," the stranger groaned, his voice strained. "I want to cum in your mouth." 

Sally's eyes widened, but she nodded, her body on fire with lust. Kenneth stepped aside, allowing her to lean forward. The stranger's cock slipped out of her pussy with a wet sound, and she took it in her hand, eager to please. 

"Yeah," he hissed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take it all." 

With a deep breath, Sally opened her mouth, the taste of the stranger's cock still lingering on her tongue. He thrust into her mouth, his movements growing erratic as he approached climax. Kenneth watched, his own arousal evident in the bulge in his pants. 

The stranger's cock swelled, and with a final grunt, he exploded, hot cum filling her mouth. She swallowed, the salty taste mixing with the lingering scent of his arousal. He pulled out, his cock spurting the last drops onto her face, his hand moving to rub the remaining semen into her hair. 

Sally's eyes watered, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she licked her lips, the taste of him still there, the act of degradation strangely exhilarating. Kenneth's hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of cum on her cheek before sliding into her mouth, allowing her to share in the act. 

The stranger's hand withdrew, the tension in the booth palpable. Sally's chest heaved with every breath, her body still thrumming with unspent desire. Kenneth's eyes searched hers, his own need clear. 

"Your turn," he murmured, spinning her around with surprising strength. Her legs trembled as she faced the wall of screens, the images flickering with the depraved acts of strangers. Kenneth stepped behind her, his hands sliding down her body to grip her hips. 

"I want you to watch," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I want you to see how much I want you." 

He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her swollen pussy. Sally could feel the heat of him, the throbbing length that promised to fill her completely. With a groan, he thrust into her, his cock sliding in with ease. 

"Oh God," she moaned, her eyes locked on the screen. The woman on the screen was being fucked from behind, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Sally felt a strange kinship with the performer, her own body mirroring the depraved scene. 

Kenneth's thrusts grew harder, his grip on her hips unyielding. The angle was perfect, his cock hitting her g-spot with every stroke. She reached up, her hand gripping the edge of the booth for support as he pounded into her, her breasts bouncing with every impact. 

"Look at them," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Look at how much they're enjoying it." 

Her eyes darted from screen to screen, each one more depraved than the last. Men and women in every conceivable position, all caught in the throes of passion. It was a visual symphony of lust, and she was the star performer in her own private show. 

The stranger in the next booth watched them, his hand moving in time with Kenneth's thrusts. Sally felt a thrill of exhibitionism, the idea of being watched adding a new layer of excitement. Kenneth's hand reached around her, his thumb finding her clit as he fucked her standing up. 

"Cum for me," he growled, his hips slamming into her. "Cum for them." 

The pressure inside her grew, a delicious ache that she knew would soon become unbearable. The stranger's eyes never left hers, his gaze hungry as he stroked his own cock, watching her every move. 

And then it was too much. Sally's orgasm hit her like a wave, her body shuddering with the force of it. Kenneth's name was a scream on her lips, the sound muffled by the walls of the booth. The stranger's hand shot through the gloryhole, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer to his cock. 

Her mouth opened, her eyes locked on the woman on the screen as she took the stranger in again, her movements sloppy and desperate. Kenneth's hand tightened on her clit, his other hand pulling her hips back to meet every thrust. 

The stranger groaned, his cum spurting through the hole and onto her face. Sally swallowed, the taste of the anonymous man mixing with her own arousal. Kenneth's strokes grew erratic, his breathing ragged. 

With a final grunt, he emptied himself inside her, his cock pulsing with every spurt of seed. Sally leaned against the wall, her legs shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Kenneth kissed her neck, his breath hot against her skin. 

"You were amazing," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

They stepped out of the booth, their clothes disheveled and their bodies still humming with desire. Sally felt a strange sense of liberation, as if she had shed a layer of herself that she had been carrying for too long. Kenneth handed her a tissue, his smile wicked. 

"Ready for the next round?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 

Sally looked up at him, her heart racing. "What's next?" she breathed, her voice a seductive challenge. 

He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. "The night's still young," he whispered. "And I have so much more to show you." 

With a wink, he led her out of the adult shop and into the night, the neon lights of Amsterdam beckoning them with the promise of more secrets and sins to be shared. 

"You left something behind," Kenneth said with a smirk, holding up her lacy panties. They were drenched, a testament to the carnality that had unfolded in the tiny booth. 

Sally's cheeks flushed as she took them from him, her eyes dropping to the ground. "I know," she murmured, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "A little souvenir for him, I suppose." 

Kenneth's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You're something else, Sally," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "I had no idea you had such a wild side." 

"Neither did I," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She tucked the panties into her bag, feeling a thrill at the idea of the stranger finding them later, the memory of her juices and the night's events forever intertwined with the fabric. 

They stumbled along the cobblestone streets, their laughter echoing through the night. The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat still pulsing between her legs, her bare skin exposed and sensitive. Each step sent a jolt of pleasure through her, a reminder of the evening's escapades. 

To be continued

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Covenant- Chapter 1

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire

Rating: E

TW: sexist language and themes, Odin's A+ parenting, Loki being a dick, trauma, mentions of torture

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938

New York

The shrill shriek of her ringtone ripped through Claire’s silent bedroom. Groaning, Claire rolled over and buried her head under the pillows. She was supposed to be off today. Whoever was calling could fuck off. If she was going to be forcibly out of the field, she was going to milk it. She ignored the sound, determined to remain in her dark, warm nest as long as she damn well pleased.

The phone stopped ringing and Claire breathed easily, her scrunched features relaxing as she started to drift back to sleep. She turned to her other side, settling into the valley between her pillows and beginning to sleepily plan her lazy day. She’d treat herself to breakfast at her favorite diner, take a walk in Central Park, and inevitably end up at the bookstore. Later she’d pick up ingredients for dinner from the nearby corner store and get wine drunk while she watched Bob’s Burgers and then fall asleep reading her new book.

The ringtone shrieked again, the vibration now rattling the headboard. Claire growled again, grunting when the phone’s vibration caused it to fall off the headboard and hit her directly in the face.

Not even bothering to open her eyes, Claire reached up from beneath the blankets to answer the incessant ringtone. It took a few tries to grab her phone, as it got lost in the shuffle of blankets as if to taunt her, but Claire finally managed to answer the call with a grumbled ‘hello?’

“We need you to come in.” Phil said without preamble. There was only one reason he’d be calling her.

“Now?” Claire sighed, already annoyed she was still dealing with this. She’d thought she’d sent the Asgardian emissary packing at field day. She clearly wasn’t princess material and in her mind, Njord must have gone scurrying back to Odin to report all the ways she sucked. ‘She’s a beast, my lord.’ The Njord in her head cried pathetically. ‘She used foul language! She dared to say marriage is stupid!’ “It’s not even 7 am.”

“The emissary called another meeting and you need to be here. Please Claire; this is really important and I want you to have a say in this.”

“’This’ meaning that stupid arranged marriage bullshit? I’m pretty sure I already told you no.”

“Claire, please,” Phil sighed. “Odin is insisting on moving forward with the marriage. You’re the only option we have and the emissary wants to sit down with you to discuss the treaty in depth.”

“…what?” Claire wasn’t sure how to process that. “He rejected everyone?”

“Apparently he was impressed by your performance at field day, although he did say you were rude,” Claire snickered as she recalled the shocked look on the man’s face when she’d told him ‘abso-fuckin-lutely not’ when he’d asked her to meet with him. “He also mentioned that whoever we send will be marrying Thor.” Phil added.

“Oh hell no!” Claire yelled, shooting up into a sitting position. “No way; I will NOT marry Thor! God that’s gross on so many-”

“If you don’t like it, then get down here and say something! The emissary looks like he’s fifteen for God’s sake; yell at him enough and he’ll cave.”

“And then Fury will yell at me for making a child cry! Remember, I had to go to that stupid seminar last time?” Claire huffed angrily. “This is why I said no; I don’t have the patience for this crap.”

“You honestly don’t care that we’re discussing your future?” Phil asked.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t just disappear if I want to.” Claire replied dryly.

“Just get here. NOW.” Phil hung up, leaving Claire in the silence of her apartment.

~~~~

Claire arrived at Avengers tower in what seemed like the foulest mood of her life. Nerves were stewing in her belly, and she managed to propel herself forward by listing everything she currently hated. Stupid Fury. Stupid Odin. Stupid THOR- what self-respecting god of thunder let himself be pushed into a marriage? Her toe caught a chip in the sidewalk, tripping her up and making her scowl deepen. Stupid sidewalk. Stupid Uncle Phil for even getting her into this mess.

The receptionist greeted her from behind her little fortress as Claire made her way to the elevator and sighed as the doors slid closed.

“Mornin’ Claire,” Clint greeted her warmly as he dropped in from the ceiling. “How are you feeling today?”

“Hi Clint,” Claire said. “I have a meeting with Fury and some Asgardian dickwad to discuss-” she cringed. “Marriage. How do you think I’m feeling?”

“Yeah I heard.” Clint nodded, commiserating with her silently.

“Doing much eavesdropping lately?” Claire asked flatly. Clint shrugged. Claire figured the Avengers were privy to just about anything. “Why are you here anyway? Were you elevator surfing or something?”

“Nah. Saw you come in, thought I’d say hi.”

“Is this normal for you?” Claire asked as the elevator reached Fury’s level. “Y’know what; tell me later. I have to go make sure no one is pledging my immortal soul to Cthulhu or something equally archaic.”

“I’ve heard the Flying Spaghetti Monster is a forgiving master; in case you need a suggestion.” Clint offered. Claire snorted a laugh.

“Thanks Clint.”

“Anytime.” Claire stepped out of the elevator, turning back when she heard a clang. She saw the toe of Clint’s boot disappearing up into the ceiling of the elevator and rolled her eyes. Clint was nuts. The elevator doors closed and she started walking toward Fury’s office.

“Don’t tell me you started the meeting without me!” Claire called when Fury came into her line of vision. He was outside his office talking with her uncle, and both turned to greet her.

“We’ve been stalling,” Phil said to her relief. “Our friend is losing patience, so we should get to it.”

“Thank you for coming. I don’t want you to feel left out of this decision.” Fury offered her a tight grin.

“That’s why you already invited the guy, right Nick?”

“Odin sent him; I can’t just send him back without talking to him. You know the protocol, Agent.” Fury said sternly.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Claire snapped. “It’s 2017 and you two idiots thought it would be okay to make this decision for me.”

“Nothing is set in stone,” Fury replied calmly. “We only pitched our agents as options because Odin refused to allow Doctor Foster to take part in the alliance. We didn’t make him pick you.”

“Doesn’t matter! I never said a fucking word about being interested in this archaic bullshit and yet it’s now become a problem I have to deal with. I don’t get paid enough for this-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Phil cut in. “We’re not going to talk about it anymore. You’re here; that means you go into that room with us and help us work out a deal that makes you happy,” At Claire’s droll look he frowned. “Happier than you are at the moment,” He hedged. “At least hear what he has to say.”

“Fine.” Claire grumped, following sulkily when Fury and Phil led her to the meeting room. Maria Hill sat inside at the long conference table, along with Thor and a young man wearing leather armor and a pouty look on his face.

“Gentlemen, thank you for waiting,” Fury said as they entered and took seats. Fury sat at the head of the table, and Claire sat next to Phil, opposite Thor and Pouty-Face. “This is Claire, one of my agents here at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Ah yes! She has agreed?” Pouty-Face asked doubtfully.

“I’m actually here to discuss some concerns with this treaty,” Claire replied diplomatically, trying to make a somewhat good impression. Pouty-Face made a motion for her to continue. For looking so young, he was perfectly coiffed and composed, looking down his nose at her. “I would like to read the proposal before we go any further please.”

“You are not aware of the offer?” Njord asked. “Perhaps you should have met with me when I asked.”

“I’m a firm believer in reading the fine print,” Claire said as Maria slid her a copy of the current proposal.“

“My king extends a most generous offer. Whomever we select will be given Idunn’s apples to extend their life span, receive a lavish lifestyle with anything and everything you could desire, servants, wealth…”

“Babies,” Claire stabbed a finger at a blurb of text. “Whoever goes would be required to have babies?”

“Children are an expected outcome of any union, Lady Claire.” Claire felt dread settle in her stomach like a stone. How in the hell would she navigate that? She’d never given any thought to having rugrats, and now the choice was being made for her? Fuck that.

“Okay, you know what? Shame on all of you. You and you-” she pointed at Njord and Thor in turn. “I can almost give a pass for this. You come from a different culture where women don’t seem to have much choice. But here we do. So the rest of you assholes who decided MY reproductive future can get fucked.”

“Agent-”

“Fuck you, Nick! Forget about me- any woman should have the right to make this decision. What if I couldn’t have kids? What if I didn’t want them; too bad?”

“Are you unable to bear children?” Njord asked. “If you are that would disqualify you from participating.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried,” Claire scoffed. “I have a dangerous job. I’ve made every effort not to get knocked up.”

“We would need assurance that you are capable of producing children.” Njord said haughtily.

“Okay first of all, I have other things to offer besides my eggs-”

“Without children, the alliance would break down within a generation,” Njord argued. “This is not only for your people’s current population, but the population going forward. This is a great honor!”

“This is fucking dumb, is what it is. Seriously, arranged marriage is how we agree not to kill each other-”

“If you wish to mock our traditions, you may leave.”

“Why, so you can con some girl off the street into this?” Claire scoffed. “Oh wait, I forgot- you already rejected all the other options!”

“Why don’t all take some time to cool off and come back?” Fury suggested, cutting Claire off before she could dig herself a deeper hole.

“Indeed.” Njord said curtly. Claire shoved away from the table, breaking out into the hallway with an angry growl.

“So obviously that could have gone better-”

“Did you know whoever they picked was gonna have to have babies?” Claire rounded on Phil.

“Not fully-”

“But you had a better idea than I did! Are you kidding me with this shit?” Claire hissed. “It’s 2017, Phil, how in the fuck would you think it’s okay to force a woman to have babies!?”

“It’s shitty, I know,” Phil held up his hands in defense. “This is their culture you’re stepping into. It’s not as forward thinking as it is here; it’s going to be a shock. It’s going to be a challenge for you.”

“Why am I even here, Uncle Phil?” Claire asked. “I’m not this person. You know me. I’m not a timid little girl who’s going to be subservient and follow behind somebody for the rest of my life.”

“But you see the bigger picture. Think of the impact you could have there-”

“What impact?” Claire scoffed. “You heard the guy- the biggest impact I could have is by having a productive cooch.” She kicked a trashcan, sending the contents fluttering along the pristine floor. An agent walking down the hallway sneered at her, skittering away in fear when Claire hissed at him like a cat.

“Okay yes, it’s a downside. I know kids were never in your life plan. But there has to be more.”

“And what if there isn’t? What if I agree to this, and my shiny new life is a shit show?”

“It’s a big risk. But I know you’ve always wanted to help people. It’s part of why you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place. If you do this, and you go to Asgard, you could do a world of good for people there and here. Of course it’ll be different than you’re used to, but you would have power and influence you don’t and will never have here.”

“Yeah, but...is that worth what I’m giving up?”

“I can’t decide that for you,” Phil said sympathetically. “Take a couple minutes and think about it.” he patted her arm before leaving her alone in the hallway.

Claire stalked off in a huff, anger boiling in her veins. She wound up in a small break room that was mercifully empty. She sank into a chair with a sigh, trying to calm down enough to be logical.

Problem one: she had to have babies with whichever prince she married. Babies meant sex, which Claire was a fan of, but having babies often took more than one try. It wasn’t like Thor wasn’t nice to look at, but there was zero chemistry between them. They were friendly, but it was like a flat soda.

Claire wasn’t signing her life away for lackluster orgasms and no fizzle.

The door opened and Claire’s head shot up to see Thor. He offered a grim smile as he sat across from her at the table.

“Lady Claire I understand you have reservations about this,” he began. “But I give you my word- I would do everything in my power to make you happy.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Claire waved off his concern. “But tell me the truth. Would you want to have babies with me?”

“No,” Thor shook his head. “You are a fierce and skilled warrior, and I have no doubt you would be an excellent mother, but-”

“You don’t want to sleep with me.”

“I do not.” Thor said apologetically. Claire laughed at his stark reply.

“The feeling is mutual, dude,” she cackled. “I really don’t understand why your dad won’t accept Jane. It’s the obvious solution.”

“He feels that her background is not…” Thor paused, drumming his fingers on the formica tabletop. “Conducive to the hardship of ruling, is what he said.” he offered a sarcastic smile.

“That’s dumb. Jane is one of the smartest people in the world.” Thor brightened, his smile widening as he nodded. “So obviously, for me to take part in this, I couldn’t marry you. I may not know the two of you very well, but it’s clear that you care for each other, and I’m not in the business of busting up happy couples.”

“I thank you for your consideration. I fear it is something another person may not think of. This kind of offer...it tends to bring out the wolves.” Claire snorted. It was an incredible offer, and people could be greedy sons of bitches.

“I can imagine,” she said softly. “I’ll be upfront with you. I don’t think I’m the right person for this. Sure I have the ‘background’ that your dad wants, and I made an impression at field day,” Claire rolled her eyes. Thor grinned at her air quotes. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I’m too loud and opinionated and I would probably get sent home for pissing off the nobles.” Thor chuckled.

“You and my brother would get on well.”

“Loki?” Claire asked. “You think so?” Thor nodded.

“I realize your people have a very colored opinion of him, and for good reason,” Thor held up a hand to stop her interrupting. “He is misguided, of that there is no doubt, but he has a good heart.”

“And you think he’d go for something like this?”

“I do not know,” Thor shook his head. “Loki has never had a high opinion of marriage, but if it offers him a chance to leave his cell…”

“Right,” Claire sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair. “He’s been locked up since New York. He’s probably losing his mind. No offense.”

“None taken,” Thor replied swiftly. “He is not himself and has not been for some time, but when we were children...I could not have asked for a better friend.”

“And you think getting out of prison would help him be like that again?”

“Possibly,” Thor shrugged. “I do not want to make false promises. But you would be protected.”

“He is pretty hot,” Claire remarked under her breath. “What? I have eyes.” she said defensively when Thor gawked at her. Thor held up his hands.

“So the thought of fulfilling marital duties with my brother isn’t as terrible as it is with me?”

“Much less,” Claire admitted, laughing when Thor gagged. “I will leave that to Jane.”

“If this is what you wish, I will help where I can. But Njord’s words about our traditions still stand- it is an ancient law of the land that the eldest child must wed before the younger siblings can be eligible. My father will have to be persuaded to allow this.”

“All I can do is try right?” Claire asked. “And if your dad says no, I’ll bow out.” Thor nodded in understanding before he pushed away from the table.

“I will give you some time to consider our discussion.” he got to his feet, treading toward the door with an air of resignation.

“Hey Thor?” she called after him. He turned on his heel, arm braced on the door frame as he looked back at her. “If I do this...what am I getting myself into?”

“My brother may be misguided, Lady Claire, but he would treat you with the honor you deserve. You would want for nothing.”

“That’s great and all, but what else? I have freedom here, Thor. I have a life. If I sign on the dotted line, am I giving all that up?”

“There is freedom in being a royal, but also significant cost. You will always have duties, responsibilities-”

“But is that all there is? Having babies and...being ornamental?” Thor’s mouth twisted as he considered his words, pounding on the door frame with his meaty fist.

“I do not know the extent of the rules ladies are bound by,” he said softly. “But my mother has always kept herself busy with things outside her familial duties,” he offered a tight smile. “I shall inform the others you need a few more moments.” he left her alone again and Claire embraced the silence the eldest Odinson left behind.

She wasn’t lying; she did find Loki attractive. Who wouldn’t? The man had a face made for sitting on. Tall, dark and lean, the second son of Asgard was far more her type than Thor. Even though his countenance was gaunt in all the surveillance she had seen, she could see the razor sharp cut of his cheekbones. The elegance in his strut. The long tapered fingers of his large hands.

Claire shoved back from the table, figuring it was better to strike while the pan was hot. She walked back slowly, listing the reasons a marriage to Loki could work better than a marriage to Thor. They did have commonalities: daddy issues, anger issues...they were both clear-cut Slytherins. Having sex with him would not be a hardship. She was still not fully sold on having babies with anyone, but Loki seemed a better prospect overall than Thor. Claire knew she’d be miserable with Thor.

At least with Loki there was hope.

“There you are!” Phil crowed as she came around the corner. Thor, Phil, Fury, Maria and Njord stood clustered in the hallway waiting for her return.

“May we continue?” Njord asked.

“Let’s hit it.” Claire agreed, walking back into the conference room.

“Have you had time to consider the offer?” Njord asked as they all returned to their seats.

“Just to be clear, the proposed alliance would be conditional upon my marriage to one of Odin’s sons; is that right?”

“You are correct Lady Claire, however the All-Father has decreed that the chosen Midgardian maiden would wed his eldest son, Prince Thor.” Pouty-Face gave a polite nod to Thor.

“Uh huh,” Claire nodded, scribbling Thor’s name from the paper and inking Loki’s name instead. “I’m not interested.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Pouty-Face replied, looking over at Thor nervously. “Prince Thor would make a fine husband- you would want for nothing-”

“Look, I know Thor. We’re friends,” Claire looked at Thor, who offered an encouraging smile. “But we’re not that close. And I can’t agree to marry him when he’s already involved with someone.” She added, glancing back over to Thor.

“I have also expressed my concerns about being forced into this marriage,” Thor said diplomatically. “I understand that my father is anxious to see this through but I cannot in good conscience abandon Jane to marry another.”

“It has already been decided!” Pouty-Face said crossly. “Lady Claire and Prince Thor will be married-”

“Listen, dude-”

“Njord.”

“Whatever!” Claire huffed. “I’m not marrying Thor. The person who should be in here would be a far better candidate in my opinion-”

“Lady Jane was not selected by the Allfather. He feels that someone with your skills and experience working under Lord Fury, would be a more suitable companion for his son.”

“I’m NOT. MARRYING. THOR!” Claire enunciated angrily.

“Lady Claire,” Njord said with false patience. “As I said- per our traditions, the eldest son must marry first. Even if the Allfather were to allow Thor to not take part in the alliance, your only other option would be the war criminal Loki,” Njord counseled. Claire had expected to hear his name at some point, but the venom in Njord’s voice threw her off. “Knowing his past deeds, could you truly accept this arrangement with him?” he questioned doubtfully. Claire paused, tapping the pen on the tabletop as she thought. Loki was the far more attractive option to her, but Njord’s hostility just mentioning him made it obvious that people did not like him. Would they hate her for marrying him?

“Claire?” Phil nudged her from the side, drawing her from her thoughts.

“I want to circle back to the part about babies.” Njord looked like he wanted to reach across the table and shake her.

“While it is true there is a burden to produce heirs for the line of succession, Prince Loki is second in line for the throne and would only become eligible to rule if Prince Thor should abdicate or the Allfather were to become incapacitated.” he replied coolly.

“So is that a definite requirement?” Claire pressed. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.”

“Yes, Lady Claire, it is a requirement,” Njord sounded like a parent trying to explain to their destructive child why they couldn’t stick forks in a toaster. “Knowing this, do you consent to marry prince Loki and fulfill the provisions of the alliance?” Njord asked. Claire’s heart beat a wild rhythm and sweat made the pen in her hand slippery. Hekate help me. Please don’t let me be walking into a lifetime of misery.

“Yes,” Claire said softly, clearing her throat. “I consent.” She repeated loudly, making the tension in the room dissipate.

“And if my king is unconvinced?” Njord pressed.

“Look, he wanted to form an alliance with my planet by marrying one of his sons to someone who wasn’t Jane. I’m Claire; have we met?”

“I was simply asking-”

“He’s getting two out of his three terms. I know for a fact I’m your only option. You rejected everyone else. So if I walk, you have to repeat this circus all over again. Since he’s anxious to see this through and soon, I’d say that’s the best deal he’s going to get. He can take it or leave it.”

“Indeed,” Njord agreed. “Very well, I shall inform my king and he will come to a decision. We will have an answer for you in a fortnight.”

“Fantastic, can’t wait,” Claire replied, getting to her feet and stalking out of the room, Thor hot on her heels. Jane sat outside the conference room, wringing her hands anxiously as she waited for them. “Hey Jane.”

“Hi,” Jane sniffled, launching herself forward to wrap Thor in a hug as soon as he cleared the door. “What happened in there?” she asked, scanning each of their faces as the room emptied. Fury and Maria herded Njord toward the exit to see him off.

“I said I didn’t want to marry Thor.” Claire said, her eyes following the group as they walked down the long hallway.

“So does that mean you’ll be marrying Loki instead?” Jane asked with a mix of hope and concern. Claire didn’t fault the scientist for the hopeful look in her brown eyes.

“It’s too soon to say,” Phil replied for Claire. “We made our counter-offer; now we wait for Odin’s reply.”

“How long will that take?” Jane asked Thor.

“Father will give us a reply in two weeks’ time.” He answered worriedly. “Claire clearly stated she would prefer to marry Loki; we have to hope that Father will honor that.”

“But doesn’t Loki have to agree also?”

“If Odin offers him a way out of prison he’ll probably take it. I know I would.” She added at Thor’s nod. Jane frowned, clearly unconvinced.

“But if he doesn’t…”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll back out. I might be a dick, but I’m not going to split you guys up.” Claire said. Jane launched herself at Claire, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said wetly. “This has been a nightmare. It helps to know we have someone else on our side.”

“No problem,” Claire said, patting the scientist on the back. She’d be a mess if she were in Jane’s shoes. “I should probably go. Maybe get a jump start on packing.”

“Oh sure,” Jane released her. “How are you feeling about all this? I mean...I’ve never met the guy but I can’t imagine what he’ll be like-”

“I’d rather not dwell on it until Odin accepts the offer,” Claire cut her off. “I’ll see you guys later.” She was getting so drunk tonight.

~~~~

Asgard

Njord made haste to the throne room as soon as he arrived back in Asgard. The events of the meeting with the Lady Claire churned in his mind as he crossed the bifrost and entered the city, winding through the curving streets toward the looming golden palace.

She had a keen mind, this Midgardian. While others had more pleasant manners, they lacked Lady Claire’s strength and cunning, which he’d seen in spades at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s so-called ‘field day’. Njord still did not understand why they called it that- they had not competed in a field at all! Instead they had played supposed war games with children’s toys on an open pitch, held foot races, and held contests to see who could jump the furthest or climb the fastest. It was a mockery of the arduous training Asgardian soldiers underwent.

His personal feelings aside, he could not overlook Lady Claire’s results. Consistently, she outshone her competitors. Manners could be assimilated. Her sharp tongue could be bridled. But her drive could not be taught. Therefore, as much as it pained him, she was the best candidate.

The Einherjar outside the throne room allowed him entry immediately, and Njord stepped inside to deliver his report.

“Ah Njord!” Odin called as he walked toward the dais. “What news do you bring from Midgard?” he asked.

“My King,” Njord knelt before the throne, placing his fist over his heart. “I have done as you asked. I have selected a maiden to join the royal family.”

“Excellent. Rise, and tell me what you have learned.”

“The negotiations with Midgard are going well, but the maiden S.H.I.E.L.D. is offering is…most unusual, if I may speak plainly.” He rose at Odin’s gesture.

“In what way?” Odin asked interestedly.

“She has consented to the treaty, but was quite adamant in her refusal to marry Prince Thor.”

“Did you explain her other option?”

“I did, Sire, but it did not sway her.” Njord shook his head. Odin pursed his lips in thought, settling back against his throne.

“And what of her carriage? Her mannerisms?”

“While I was selecting candidates, S.H.I.E.L.D. conducted what they call a ‘field day’, in which I witnessed the candidates compete against each other. The maiden I have selected bested all of her competitors. She is a commoner and would greatly benefit from lessons in deportment, but she seems sure of herself and she is a decent, if not aggressive, negotiator. Where Jane Foster is weak, she is…forceful. Strong-willed. She seems convinced you will allow her to wed prince Loki.”

“Why is that?”

“In her words, you are getting two of the three provisions your proposal contains and as you are eager to strike a bargain, you will be hard pressed to argue over which son she weds.” Njord responded, dreading his king’s reaction. The mortal woman couldn’t know this, but her rash words could cost the entire treaty if they offended the Allfather. To his surprise, Odin barked out a laugh.

“Such insight for a mere mortal. I daresay she will make an excellent match for Loki. Come,” Odin got to his feet. “You will accompany me to the dungeons- the prince will surely want to know about his future bride.”

~~~~

The dungeons beneath the palace of Asgard were hidden away, desolate and deep underground. One had to traverse an intricate maze of corridors to even reach them- a defense mechanism in case of a prisoner escape. That alone used to be enough to prevent Odin from worrying- but with the imprisonment of the second prince, more security measures had been employed. Odin had woven his own magic into the construction of heavy doors- only those he allowed may gain entry and exit. Should the disgraced prince have been clever enough to escape his cell, he would not have been able to get far.

Odin had not seen the prince since he had been brought before him for sentencing. Loki had shown no remorse for his actions on Midgard; even daring to ask the queen if he’d made her proud.

His arrogance had radiated from him like poison, and so Odin had felt no remorse in sending him to the dungeons to while away his days.

Odin was wise to Frigga’s habit of sending a duplicate to see the prince, as well as books and whatever else she thought would appease him. Odin had no such compunctions. When a child misbehaved, you did not coddle the child. You corrected it.

Njord trailed after the Allfather as they descended beneath the palace, traversing the labyrinthine corridors to reach the prison. At last the entry point came into view, breaking up the monotony of the long, windowless corridors. Two guards stood sentry on each side of the heavy door, both men placing fists over their hearts in salute to their king as they approached.

The men opened the heavy door without question, allowing Odin and Njord to enter. A steep staircase led them deeper underground, where another pair of guards waited at the bottom. They too greeted their king with fists over hearts, one guard nodding reverently before turning on his heel to lead Odin to his destination.

After all, their was only one prisoner Odin would deign to visit himself.

Prisoners shout and jeer as Odin and Njord pass. Some throw themselves upon the effervescent walls, pounding upon it with their fists as they beg as for release, curse their existence, or both. One prisoner rips off his shoes and throws them, striking the wall directly where Odin’s head passed by.

“Something terrible must have happened to warrant a visit from you, Allfather,” Loki hissed as he spied Odin approaching his cell. “It’s been far too long, and yet, not long enough.”

“Your barbed words will not incense me, Loki. I come bearing an olive branch.” Odin said. Loki scoffed, snapping his book shut.

“What can you possibly have to offer me? If I was meant for the axe it would have been swung ages ago.”

“I am negotiating an alliance with Midgard’s forces. They have agreed to arrange a marriage per our traditions and I had originally planned for Thor-”

“Yes, Norns forbid Thor ever have to make a sacrifice,” Loki rolled his eyes as he set the book aside and pulled out a deck of cards. “So the golden son has refused…what of your treaty now?” he began to shuffle the deck, a disgusted sneer overtaking his features as he put two and two together. “This is why you’ve come- to entreat me to play husband!”

“Don’t flatter yourself so, Loki. Thor has accepted that he will wed the girl if I so decree. However…” Loki’s stomach turned sour as the Allfather trailed off. His grip on the cards tightened, the thin edge of the card slicing into the pad of his finger. “I have another idea entirely.”

“You would have me accept. Take part in your charade,” Loki dealt the cards, arranging them in piles and making an inverted triangle. “I still would prefer the axe.”

“I offer you a secondary proposition,” Odin held up his hand to silence his adopted son. “Accept your place in the alliance and I will release you from your prison. But your freedom will depend entirely upon the girl’s safety and wellbeing- should anything untoward happen to her, the alliance will be in ruins and you will return here for the remainder of your days.”

“That is hardly a choice,” Loki scoffed, turning away from Odin to begin his game. “Any fool would be inclined to do as you say for a chance at freedom.” he glances past Odin to the eavesdropping prisoner shouting he would do as Odin asked.

“But you are no fool, yes, I know,” Odin said flatly. “You would be restored to your title and place in our family as well.” Loki picked up a card and moved it to another stack, flipping the card beneath face up.

“How enticing.”

“Regardless of your feelings for me, I know you care for Frigga. She misses her son. Marry the girl and you would be free to see her as often as you wish.”

“You oversell yourself, Allfather,” Loki glared at him, bending the cards in his hand and flicking toward the barrier between them in anger. “You’re desperate to see this done.” he added accusingly.

“It is a small price to pay for the good of my kingdom,” Odin brushed off the insult. “And yes, I am. Think well on my offer, and make a decision quickly. I may not be so generous tomorrow.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I could announce a death sentence instead of a wedding, if that is truly your wish.”

“I would expect no less,” Loki smirked as he collected the cards he’d thrown from the floor of his cell. “And you, I suppose, are here to extoll my future bride’s virtues?”

“If my king wishes.” Njord replied.

“I do. I expect a decision by midday tomorrow.” Clapping Njord on the shoulder, Odin departed; leaving Njord under Loki’s hostile gaze. A haze of green surrounded the cards before they flew back into Loki’s outstretched hand.

“Well?” the fallen prince asked sharply, settling in to resume his game. “What of her? Is she stupid? Ugly? Disfigured? I imagine she isn’t much to look at if Thor refused her hand.”

“Neither, my lord. She is rather attractive…and carries herself well. She is a skilled warrior, though she does have a sharp tongue, and a bit of a temper.”

“And she refused Thor’s suit?” Njord hesitated- the Lady Claire had indeed refused Thor’s hand and forced the Allfather’s hand, but the official story was different.

“The Allfather thought His Majesty would serve better under the alliance,” Loki’s lip curled at the formal title. It only served to mock him in here. “The Lady Claire consented to the treaty, but argued that Lady Jane would be a far better candidate than herself. Perhaps she thought to spare them the pain of being separated.” Njord added nervously.

“Then she is a fool. Noble, but a fool nonetheless,” Loki sneered as he cleared a stack of cards and set them aside. He tapped a card on the table dismissively as he thought. “Or blind. I’ve never known a woman to refuse Thor. If that is the case, she must be damn near insufferable,” Loathe as he was to accept, Loki could admit that he was curious to meet the woman who rejected Thor. At the very least, she could be somewhat reliable for companionship. Norns knew it would be nice to be free of his wretched cell. To be in his own chambers again… “Leave me.”

“What shall I tell the Allfather?”

“He gave me until tomorrow to consider his inane suggestion, did he not? Tell him I am doing just that.” Loki spat, muttering darkly under his breath as he turned back to his game. Njord disappeared from his field of vision rather quickly, leaving Loki alone once again.

What in the nine was Odin thinking? Hadn’t arranged marriages fallen out of fashion eons ago? They still happened of course, but not nearly as often. So why this marriage, and why now?

Why him? Hadn’t he suffered enough in the name of his so-called family? He should refuse; Thor could bear the burden of responsibility for once.

The fact that this woman refused Thor however…it intrigued him. Did that mean she chose him over Thor? Loki could not remember anyone apart from Frigga actively choosing him for any reason. Perhaps it would be tolerable.

But he was loathe to agree, if only to spurn Odin. Five years he had languished in this damn cell without so much as a word and Odin expected him to jump at the first opportunity? Damn him.

~~~~

New York

Claire was startled awake by the loud ringing of her phone. She groaned angrily and reached behind her to fumble on her night stand for the offending device. She’d learned not to put the phone on the headboard. Nabbing it with her fingers, she brought it in front of her face and swiped to answer the call.

“Hello.” She said, her voice thick with sleep.

“We need you to come in,” Phil said in lieu of greeting. “The emissary from Asgard is back.”

“Aw man, Pouty-Face is back already? I was hoping he’d come down with a case of space amnesia but whatever. Fine,” Claire grumped, grunting in surprise when her phone fell from her hand and landed on her face. “’M’kay I’m up.” She mumbled.

“I’ll let him know you’re on your way,” Phil replied. “Hurry please.”

“Okay!” Claire hissed, throwing off her blankets and storming to her closet. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“I’ll send a car for you.” Phil ended the call and Claire tossed the phone on her bed. She rummaged through her clothes and threw on yesterday’s jeans with her Alice in Wonderland tee. She quickly brushed her hair and sprayed some perfume before grabbing her jacket and cane and heading downstairs to meet the car.

~~~~

“Oh good, you’re finally here.” Phil said when she stepped out of the elevator.

“It hasn’t even been twenty minutes yet!” Claire protested as he grabbed her by the arm and steered her toward Fury’s office. He ushered her in and followed, closing the door behind them. Njord and Fury sat facing each other across his desk, papers strewn across the surface.

“Welcome back Agent,” Fury said as she sat in the chair to the far left, leaving Phil to sit between her and the emissary. “Njord and I were just discussing the final details of the treaty.”

“Super. What are they?”

“Firstly, it will please you to know that my king has agreed to your terms,” Njord said. “Prince Loki has agreed to the alliance as well.”

“I figured he would; everybody loves a get-out-of-jail-free card.” Njord looked at her quizzically.

“I don’t know what that means, my lady.” he said after a beat.

“Never mind,” Claire replied with a wave of her hand. “What else?”

“The Allfather has put forth a protection clause on your behalf, which we took the liberty of adding to the treaty. Prince Loki’s freedom will depend entirely upon your health and safety.”

“So if he puts hands to her, the alliance would be over?” Phil asked.

“The alliance would be ended and Prince Loki would return to prison for the remainder of his life.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Claire said. “I’m assuming that’s only in case of irreparable damage?”

“Claire!” Phil hissed.

“What? It’s a valid question,” Claire hissed back. “I just want clarification before I throw hands.”

“Don’t start please-”

“Do we need to work out a visitation clause or a schedule?” Fury asked, diverting attention from Claire’s ethical dilemma. “I’m sure Claire would want to come back and Phil would like to visit her in Asgard as well.”

“I don’t believe that is something the Allfather has considered,” Njord replied. “But this can easily be arranged, do not worry. Our seers have selected a date for the ceremony.”

“Already?” Phil asked. “When is it?”

“As Lady Claire will be permanently relocating to Asgard, the Allfather thought a fortnight would be enough time for her to pack her belongings.”

“Dude I’m right here; can you maybe not talk about me like I’m not?” Claire said combatively.

“My apologies, Lady Claire.”

“Sure. So when is the ceremony? Am I traveling to Asgard and then boom I’m married?”

“The ceremony itself will take place in six weeks. You will have two weeks to prepare your things for travel, and one month in Asgard to make all of your preparations and familiarize yourself with the palace and your duties.”

“And she’ll have her own room until the wedding?” Phil asked.

“Yes of course,” Njord nodded. “All the necessary arrangements shall be made for your accommodations, Lady Claire.”

“And what about Loki?” Claire blurted. “I get to meet him before the wedding, right?”

“You will get to meet your betrothed prior to the ceremony, Lady Claire. You will be chaperoned until afterward, upon which time the marriage will be consummated.”

“Right.” The tiny gouge in Fury's desk was suddenly very fascinating.

“It is tradition that the consummation is witnessed-”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Claire shouted. “What is this, the Iron Age?!”

“Peace, Lady Claire. You will be pleased to know that the Allfather has agreed to forego the tradition. His Majesty Prince Loki shares your views on the practice.”

“Well thank god for small miracles,” Claire muttered angrily. “So now what?”

“I shall return in two weeks’ time to collect you and your things. I require your signature on this missive. This is not the treaty itself, but your pledge to fulfill the provisions which the Allfather and your government have agreed to.” Njord produced an honest-to-god scroll and handed it to her. Claire ran her thumb over the actual wax seal and unfurled it.

The writing was fancy, sloped cursive that Claire could barely read. Down at the bottom there was another wax seal and a scribble of ‘Odin Allfather’. Above that were two signature lines. One was blank and awaiting her signature. The other bore the scrawling, looping signature of her future husband.

Loki Odinson.

The scrape of glass caught Claire’s attention and she looked up from the scroll to see Njord had slid an inkwell over to her. He held out a quill for her to take. Claire stared at the quill for a moment before reaching out to take it. She dipped the quill into the ink and held it above the paper, unable to make herself sign it.

This shouldn’t be hard. She was getting what she wanted. Thor and Jane could have a happy life together now. She was marrying Thor’s hot, crazy brother.

This is what she wanted.

When Claire made a decision, she committed.

“Lady Claire?” Njord asked. A drop of ink had fallen onto the parchment and was beginning to dry. Claire took a deep breath, set the quill to parchment, and signed her name. She gave the quill and parchment back to Njord, watching as he sprinkled powder onto the scroll to dry the ink. The inkwell was capped and put away along with the quill. The scroll was rolled back up and vanished into the bag at Njord’s side.

“I do hate to rush off, but I must return to Asgard. There is much to be done before your arrival.”

“Okay,” Claire said quietly. Her entire body was trembling and a heavy pit of dread was roiling in her stomach. She had just signed away her entire life to make Jane and Thor happy; to keep her realm safe. She was trying desperately to focus on how satisfying it was to stick it to Njord and his smug stupid face, but she wanted to run out of the room and cry. “Great.”

“Excellent. I shall see you all in a fortnight.” Njord said cheerfully. He left quickly with Maria and Fury, leaving Claire alone with Phil.

“Are you okay?”

“Great.” Claire said hollowly, wrapping her arms around herself. Phil leaned over the table, putting a hand on her arm.

“I’ll help you pack. It’ll be alright.”

“FUCK!” Claire shouted after a moment; brutally, painfully aware of how drastically her life was about to change. “I’m such an idiot.”

[invisibleraven]

Why can't we go on as many

Ao3: Day 5: Arranged Marriage + Regal Jewelry

Ever since Carrie was young she knew she was betrothed to Prince Reginald-an agreement made when she was but an infant to save his kingdom and elevate her to the rank of royalty. Carrie would much rather choose her own match, to marry for love, but she is made to understand her duty as a daughter, and that such agreements are not so easily undone. That does little to soothe the feeling of being traded off, but the promise of a crown is an appealing one. 

She has never met Reginald-there’s a whole process, so they exchange letters and gifts for years, with no idea how the other will look. But she gets to know his heart this way, as much as she can. She keeps getting told what Reggie is like, because correspondence can only reveal so much, but it doesn’t quench her curiosity for his appearance. It’s not enough to hear he has dark hair and green eyes, she wants to see him for herself. 

Finally her father tells her they are going to visit, to ensure Reginald is no monster, to show her the palace in which she’ll be living. It hurts to say goodbye to her home, the servants who all but raised her, the forests where she rode her horse, the books that kept her company when she had next to no friends to converse with. She is sure the staff at the palace are nice enough, and she knows Reggie has a horse set aside for her, but they won’t be what she’s used to. 

So they load up the carriage, and Carrie watches the manor disappear behind them, not tearing her eyes away for a long time, not wanting to face the future quite yet. She and her father don’t speak much, but that’s par for the course; he’s spent most of her life being aloof and occupied with running the estate instead of raising her. 

He never speaks of her mother, and all Carrie has is her portrait tucked away in the attic to know her by, given her last breath and Carrie’s first were all but simultaneous. She has asked, but her father claims it is too painful, and so Carrie stopped asking. He’s not unkind, but they have never been close, and Carrie doubts that will change once she has been married off to someone living leagues away. 

The castle is nice, not overly fancy, but it’s a far call from her manor, and that says something. They receive a nice welcome from the staff, and are led to very nice rooms to relax before their audience. Carrie is glad to get out of her dusty travel clothes, washing up and trying to nap before she gets introduced to her future husband, but to no avail. She’s too nervous to sleep, tossing and turning in the luxurious sheets before the maid comes in to help her dress. 

She’s led through winding halls and wonders how she’ll ever find her way around here once it’s her home. She might need to enlist someone to draw her a map, lest she have to have a servant escort her everywhere. Though as future Princess, she might just have a guard at her side at all times regardless. It feels as though she’s given up her freedom for a crown. 

The throne room is expansive and sprawling, like it’s trying to be grander than it is; she had heard the current king, her future father in law has quite the ego, and this is but a mere reflection of it. She curtsies at the dias, eyes downcast, waiting to look up, to finally clap eyes on her intended. 

“This is Lady Carolynn,” a voice states. “One of your intended.”

Wait…one?

“And this is Lady Julianna, your other intended.” 

Carrie looks to her side and suddenly notices another girl there, gorgeously beautiful, and looking just as perplexed as Carrie feels. 

“Your Majesty… why are there two brides to be?” Carrie’s father asks. “I was under the impression my daughter was to be the sole wife of your son.” 

“You presumed wrongly Lord Wilson,” the king replies, his tone haughty. “In my land we take multiple wives-increases the chance of a male heir. My son’s mother made the decision to cap it at two, and though my son has argued one wife would be sufficient, he has agreed to this arrangement.” 

“Why were we not informed?” another voice asked, and Carrie has to presume this is Julianna’s father, given the hand he has on her shoulder, a small comfort, but it is more than her own father has offered her. 

“It is a well established practice in my land. If your historians had done their research when inquiring after a suitable match they would have known. But the contracts have been signed, dowries have been exchanged, and you both should know I am not to be trifled with should you try to walk away from our agreement.” 

“It’s fine,” Julianna said, her voice ringing out, a musical quality to it that immediately entrances Carrie. “I am sure Carolynn and I shall become the closest of friends and shall share the duties of Princess well.” 

“Ah yes. Only whomever delivers the heir shall receive the title,” the king intoned. “The other shall be Princess Consort, and Queen Consort when my son takes the throne.” 

Carrie bristles at that-they had been promised a title, a place in the court, but even she knew that the offering of the king was little more than a courtesy, with no power or rank behind it. 

A soft hand reaches over-and Carrie realizes it is Julianna, who gives her a smile. Who rolls her eyes a little, and Carrie has to hold back a snort. They will get through this-together. At least if their marriage is miserable, Carrie feels she has an ally now, and she can endure the worst with Julianna’s hand in hers. 

And with Reggie of course, who insists they use the nickname, no title required, Julie and Carrie doing the same, even as they lament the trickery at play here, which Reggie grimaces at. He promises them he’s going to change the title rule the second a crown is on his head, and that he honestly is in no rush to have children, but is very excited to start planning the most extravagant wedding. 

Carrie thinks this might just work out as they dive into planning a ball to introduce the girls to the kingdom. Bonding even further as the three of them share a love of music and similar foods. 

Carie figures things could have ended up worse-Reggie is even more handsome than she imagined, Julie a quite beautiful lass, and the three of them decide to make the most of what they have. Love may come, and it may not-it does, though it does take nearly a year of marriage for it to happen-but at least they have each other, and that’s worth enough here and now. 

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Snape should not be a teacher

I like Snape's character. However, while I believe Snape is not as cruel a teacher as some Snaters (still so funny! who came up with these Snape terms lol) claim, especially when compared to teachers like Hagrid and Minerva, there are still some Snape teaching scenes where Snape is so unnecessarily mean. Like this scene in book 3 where Snape is Lupin's substitute.

“As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —” “Please, sir, we’ve done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows,” said Hermione quickly, “and we’re just about to start —” “Be quiet,” said Snape coldly. “I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organization.” “He’s the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had,” said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever. “You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you — I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss —” Harry watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn’t covered. “— werewolves,” said Snape.

I can empathize with Snape at the beginning. His class is not being cooperative and Snape is going through a rough year dealing with Lupin at Hogwarts again. Throughout the book, you see how Snape is a trigger away from exploding. And having the students fawn over Lupin, for being in the teacher role he covets, has to remind him of his Hogwarts days when the marauders were on top and everyone was on their side.

And yes, I relate to Hermione because I was so much like her in school. She's not being malicious but you can understand why Snape finds her enthusiasm and unwanted additions annoying. She's interrupting him and while he's acting cold, he's not disrespecting her. Yet.

“But, sir,” said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, “we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start hinkypunks —” “Miss Granger,” said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394.” He glanced around again. “All of you! Now!” With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

Yes, Hermione is still interrupting the class. Snape is right that he is the teacher here and she has no authority to decide what the lesson is. However, Hermione has every right to understand her education as a student. While Snape is still cordial here, out of respect, he could have given her some false reason for why they were studying werewolves to appease her. Children sometimes need to know why adults are telling them to do something - 'I said so' is not enough all the time.

“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” said Snape. Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. “Anyone?” Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between —” “We told you,” said Parvati suddenly, “we haven’t got as far as werewolves yet, we’re still on —” “Silence!” snarled Snape. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are. . . .” “Please, sir,” said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf —”

This is where Snape begins to lose my sympathy and he turns nasty.

I have been in Hermione's shoes. So I understand where Snape and Hermione are coming from. Teachers normally do not like when one student dominates class discussions. I have had teachers pass me over so they could give other students a chance. While it can sting at times, I understood they never meant to hurt me when they did that.

The problem is that this is not what is happening here. Hermione is literally the one student participating and Snape is actively ignoring her. In part, so that he can have his vindictive moment to diss Lupin's teaching.

Of course, Hermione speaks out of turn again and that's wrong of her as a student. But this is in response to Snape's horrible behaviour. The class has told Snape multiple times that they have not learnt about werewolves so Snape asking the question was just meant to function as a gloating moment. How Snape is treating Hermione here is abhorrent.

“That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” said Snape coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.” Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, “You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don’t want to be told?”

This moment and the scene where Snape tells a jinxed Hermione 'I see no difference' have got to be my least favourite Snape scenes.

I dislike Hermione, don't forget that. But Snape is just so cruel. How Hermione was treated makes me think of how people have been cruel to me in similar ways in highschool.

I grew up with a huge gap between my front teeth. And it only got worse as I grew older. In highschool, a classmate told me to close my mouth when I was smiling for a picture she was taking for our group project. On my graduation night as valedictorian, my aunt asked my mom when they were going to do something about my teeth. I never truly felt confident about my smile until I got braces in college. And now people tell me I have a beautiful smile...but it cost me thousands of dollars to get there. No financial help from my parents (lol I was the one sending my family money in freaking college!). Even without this experience, I have enough empathy to know that Snape saying that to Hermione was absolutely disgusting. I have seen pro Snape posts saying it is out of character but I am not convinced.

As for this moment...I honestly would not mind what Snape said in different circumstances. If Hermione was being an attention hog for instance. Or if Hermione was blurting out random information.

But the problem is that Snape asked the question like Ron said! And then Snape has the nerve to act like the class is dumb for not knowing info on a topic they have not reached. Then, to act like a manbaby and insult the one diligent student who actually knows the answer to the question!

Once again, I have empathy for Hermione because I have had similar experiences. I literally had an Indian physics teacher in highschool who told me in class one day that she was limiting the number of questions I could ask. I loved her a lot and she was a good teacher, but I guess she got fed up with my questions :(. It stung a little but I never hated her for it. I still thrived under her and she was never mean to me.

But I had an English teacher who was a total waste of time. She was a senior teacher but our class was subpar compared to the others. It was so bad that my class had to take a different test for midterm exams! Of course, I complained to my parents and one of the VPs checked in one time on the class...but nothing was done. I learnt squat that year. Anyway, there was a class where we were learning about writing techniques and, as usual, the class went off track and we started talking about random crap that had nothing to do with the lesson. I raised my hand and politely asked if we could continue the lesson topic. You know what this lady said to me? She called me selfish and my classmates agreed with her :'). Afterwards, I remember resting my head on the table and holding back tears. At least I had my BF sitting next to me as silent support.

Students like Hermione (and myself at times) can be annoying to certain teachers. Yes, Hermione spoke out of turn and she needs to control herself but it is totally unnecessary for Snape to insult her and make her cry. It's pathetic behaviour honestly. I am not saying Snape has to be nice and I do find a lot of his interactions with the trio funny. But this scene really hit home for me and I am bothered a bit when I see pro Snape posts downplaying the hurt he causes Hermione.

[enderon]

Listened to Thorn's Sonic Ubderground retrospective again, which of course got me thinking of my own rewrite. Something I thought more about this time around is Aleena herself. Unfortunately, in the show we actually got, she sadly falls into the category of 'generically good leader, without actually being told why she's good or what she's like as an individual'. So of course my big goal was to figure her out, sp here's some of the thoughts I had.

- Second child to the king and queen

- Had an older brother who was the favored child

- Because she was the second born princess, most of her learning and training when she was young was to make her a more desirable match to be married off

- She was considered a 'wild' child because she would run off constantly to spend time with the common folk and constantly tried to talk about problems in the kingdom, even when she was told to leave it alone

- When she was 15, her father decided to have her sent off to a finishing school, which caused her to finally run away from home

- She would spend the next 2 years traveling aroubd Mobius, meeting the people and trying to solve problems where she could, under the fake name 'Bernie'

- It was during these travels that she met Jules and his brother Chuck

- She and Jules did not get along at first, him finding her too stubborn and her finding him too forgiving, though they would always find that when it counted, they worked seamlessly together, growing closer over time of knowing one another 

- She grew to be quite pleased with her life of traveling and helping people alongside Jules, Chuck, and a few other accumulated friends (Argus is one of these old friends)

- Everything changed when, at the age of 17, she discovered that her brother died, a horrific medical emergency on his wedding night

- She found that shortly after, every town and village in Mobius became bombarded with letters from her parents, begging her to return home and take the now empty throne 

- Even though it's something she'd always wanted, she hesitated to go back, still too resentful of her parents who were too willing to ignore so many problems and force her into a loveless marriage instead of making use of her talents

- But she was also held back by her new freinds and freedom, not wanting to lose them to her responsibility 

- Jules is the one who convinced her to go back, citing all of the things they'd done to help people and how many more she could reach as queen, pointing out how she loves her people far more than she resents her parents 

- So she went back to become queen, carefully making a crucial written agreement with her parents that she be granted proper right to rule and make desicions, not just be married off to be a figure head 

- Things went pretty well for a time with her in the role of crown princess and working to already enact some changes in the kingdom, her father the king genuinely impressed by her insights and suggestions

- It's during this time that Robotnik appears, brought in as a guest by one of the higher standing nobles, impressing the king with his technological knowledge and prowess

- She doesn't trust him from the beginning, but having learned to be more careful of immmediate actions and judgements from Jules, she holds off on her judgement, choosing to give Robotnik a chance to prove himself (this is something she will beat herself up over for the rest of her life)

[atonalginger]

I'm Your Huckleberry, update #2

Chapters 5 and 6 are now live on ao3! Things just got more complicated for the two families because nothing is ever simple, is it?

You can hop in at chapter 5: Over Sparta III by clicking HERE!

To start at the beginning, click here.

and as always, a sneak peek under a read more!

“Did you hear about what Jacob’s lawyers did?” Bella asked him.

He shook his head and sat his bottle down, “no haven’t been to the city since returning to Cheyenne.”

“Well apparently at some point over the last two decades Jacob and your parents came to a financial agreement where they let you two go and in exchange they got a nice little allowance from Jacob.”

“He what?” Fox’s jaw dropped open.

“Apparently Jacob really liked your sister and wanted to ensure she’d reach the heights she deserved. You were wrapped in the deal too since y’all are twins and if they found one they’d likely find the other.”

“Why didn’t he tell us?” Fox said, mostly to himself. He stared off toward the door, searching for answers in the dirt outside.

“Whatever the reason the deal was broken the moment he learned they’d gone looking for Jay. And he let them know that when they showed up at the Core Manor while Cora was packing. He was just going to stop payments and let the deal fall to the dust, write off what he’d paid out and move on.”

“Then they showed up here looking for Cora,” he looked back to Bella.

“I asked our people to keep tabs on any filings that involved either family. Got a ping this morning that Jacob’s team filed a claim against ol’ Jimmie and Julie. You see the agreement wasn’t just a handshake, he got the whole thing in writing. They broke the contract something like five times? Guess what the consequence was for breach of contract.” Bella leaned forward, rolling her index finger as she smiled at her old friend, “Go on, guess.”

“They have to repay every credit,” Fox blinked slow at her, “they won’t be able to. He knows that.”

“I asked him about it when I reached out this morning,” Bella sat back, “he’s not going to try to bleed a stone but how they respond will determine how his team approaches it in court. His team also submitted a request for a restraining order against them in Cora’s name, since they sought her out specifically, but that will take time.”

“I’m impressed he was willing to talk to you about it,” Fox noted, “he’s not the most forthcoming about things.”

“I mean I started the call by laying out everything I had and let him know I could find the answers without him,” Bella shrugged, “he did concede he should have told Sam and Jay a few years ago on the off chance this happened but he didn’t want too many people knowing.”

“I’m sure he loved that,” Fox smiled at Bella, “though I can think of worse people to be blackmailed by.”

Bella narrowed her eyes, “I wasn’t blackmailing.” 

“Close enough.”

“I’ll have you know that Mr. Coe and I have had a decent working relationship for years now and since we have a mutual interest in the situation he was more open to discussing the finer details.”

Fox blinked at her, faster this time, the humor gone from his face, “you have a…working relationship with Jacob Coe?”

“He’s been out of retirement for years, Fox,” she fussed with her bun, “and was in need of a proper cyberrunner to handle some of the more delicate operations he’s been overseeing. He heard about my skills at the wedding and reached out to see if I was available.”

She watched as Fox rubbed his face with both his hands, grumbling to himself about his own shock over such an obvious turn of events. Of course Bella was performing political espionage. Of course Jacob was the one orchestrating it all. Of course she could get the grumpiest, tight lipped man to sing without lifting a finger. He groaned and flopped back in his chair, swiped his bottle, and drained the rest.

“The good news is they should not be showing up here or on Jay’s doorstep ever again,” Bella tapped the top of his hand, “too dangerous.”

“Oh I know,” Fox sat the bottle down harder than he intended and made a face over the noise before continuing, “Mom wouldn’t stop crying over the fact that Rokov ‘broke Jasper’s face’ and the fact that Dad’s on a soft food diet until they can get his teeth repaired. Apparently Del broke several molars in his dentures between those two hits and then Rokov cracked the bottom set and chewing pinches his gums.”

“Poor fucking baby,” Bella rolled her eyes.

[chenziee]

World Economic Journal: Grand Line Edition

Dressrosa Destroyed, Doflamingo Dethroned!!

DRESSROSA, New World | by @/truffyfest

It has been ten years since the infamous Warlord of the Sea Donquixote Doflamingo stepped up as the king of the country of Dressrosa. At the time, it had seemed as if he had saved the country from the tyranny of King Riku Doldo, who had gone mad as he set his own, peaceful country on fire, as well as hurting innocent citizens.

To no one’s surprise—if you have been following President Morgans’ articles and commentaries—nothing was as it seemed!

Just yesterday, the world was shocked by Doflamingo’s sudden abdication and then renouncement of it (“False report my ass! The Government is covering something up, I know it!” President Morgans famously said,) and now, the man himself is in Admiral Fujitora’s custody and waiting to be taken to Impel Down.

So what exactly happened within the past 24 hours?

If you have read yesterday’s issue (and we are sure you have!), you no doubt know about the new alliance between Straw Hat Luffy and Trafalgar Law. Well, now we know what the purpose of their alliance was!

Indeed, it was these two high-profile pirates who had caused the coup in Dressrosa and dethroned its king, bringing king Riku to power once more—as well as uncovering the conspiracy that had been brewing underneath Dressrosa’s brilliant appearance for the past ten years, and destroying most of the country as the result.

Does that make them villains? Or heroes?

We have asked the Dressrosans themselves to bring you their opinions!

The first people we interviewed looked conflicted, obviously still shaken from the sudden chain of events that had turned their lives upside down. “Well, at first I was pi**ed because if they didn’t come, we would keep living in peace! But, well… I guess not being ruled by a pirate is a good thing…” one of the men said before turning to his friend, who looked even more conflicted—dare we say, on the verge of a mental breakdown. “I mean, yeah it’s great we’re not unknowingly under tyranny but you know what I found out three hours ago after I just married my girlfriend last week? I was already married! And my first wife is now threatening to stab my second wife, who obviously isn’t about to sit back and take it, so now I have two wives who are out to kill each other and I might just have to move to another country just to get away from all this.”

(Dear Dressrosans, if you are facing a similar situation, let us recommend the South Blue! It’s a gorgeous sea with wonderful weather, all but asking for a day spent basking in the Sun on the beach! And if lazing about is not your thing, South Blue also has many historical and modern sights to behold! - sponsored by South Blue Tourism Association)

Next, we moved to one of the last remaining intact houses, where we asked the lucky owner about her own impressions. She was much more decisive in her statement, saying, “I’ve been a toy for the past seven years, I owe them everything! They’re Dressrosa’s greatest heroes!” How touching!

Unfortunately, we then made our way to the island’s outskirts, where not a single building was left standing. There, we made the mistake of approaching one of the unfortunate inhabitants, who angrily snapped at us, “My f**king house and everything in it was completely destroyed, what the f**k do you think?!”

Quickly leaving the outer towns, we headed back towards the Flower Hill—the new King’s Plateau—where we got a few very interesting answers!

“Alliance? You mean they’re not dating? I thought—” a young girl said to the enthusiastic agreement of her friends.

“I know! I saw the Warlord picking some sunflowers… I heard from Rebe— Lady Rebecca that Lucy is still recovering so I thought for sure those were for him…” One of her friends hurried with her own observations.

“You know,” a boy added in a hushed whisper. “I sneaked around the house where they’re staying earlier today to take a peak and the Warlord was sitting on Lucy’s bed, touching him all over!! And the green-haired swordsman just watched, it was super weird!”

What scandalous information! But as we all know, despite being a pirate, Trafalgar Law is also a skilled doctor and Straw Hat Luffy is seriously injured right now. So, was he simply performing a check up? Or letting his curious hands wander by themselves? Or something else?

Are there romantic feelings truly involved?! We will keep our ears to the ground and provide you with the newest, best sourced information on this blossoming couple on the pages of this World Economic Journal . 

Don’t miss anything in the next issue!

[ Previous Issue | Next Issue ]

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for double-crossing a man who blindly conquered half a continent?

I (M30) recently became Emperor of my country. Prior to that, I was a Duke, having inherited the position at a young age after my father's passing (he was not a good man, and I have no sympathy for him). A few years ago our country was accused of murdering the heir to another country's throne, an act we did not commit. I suspect it was a certain underground group that I am (unfortunately) entangled with. We went to war, and most of our men were sent to the front lines. Not long after that, the country bordering us to our southwest attacked and kidnapped a noblewoman.

This is where S (M25) comes in. S was childhood friends with this noblewoman, as their dutchies border each other. S set out with a small band of men (including my half-brother (M23)) to rescue his dear friend. This spiraled into S annexing that country by complete accident. The youngest prince of said country ended up joining him, and I believe there was intent to rebuild and give power back, but things never got that far.

The crown was so impressed with S that they stationed him at the border their country and ours, as well as a third to the north. A civil war broke out in that third country and S rushed up to assist his old classmate. Once again, it ended with our country occupying theirs. S and the crown agreed to stay for a year until an agreement was reached. It did not last. The king of said country grew impatient and began an assault six months in.

It was around this time I met my wife, D (F23?). She had amnesia and could not remember anything from her prior life. I suspected foul play. But I could not keep my heart from falling for her-- she is the sweetest, most beautiful woman you will ever meet. We found out later that she was the lost granddaughter of our king, and that whoever married her was next in line for the throne. I must admit, the thought of becoming king made me giddy, but I assure you I married her for love.

Also around this time, two of the other dukes killed the crown prince and framed S's father for the crime. S and his company fled to a neutral country in the north that gave them sanctuary. To no one's surprise, S managed to get himself involved in that country's civil war as well.

S sent word of his innocence to the capital, as well as a plea to help locate his missing wife. I had a hunch I knew who it was-- my beloved D. With my engagement confirmed to her, I realized I had to make a move. I invited him back under the pretense of forgiveness. He brought his company back. I sent my aide to fetch them. She lead them right into our trap. I brought out D to test my hypothesis, and I was correct-- S cried out for his wife, who failed to recognize him. D tried to speak with him but I had her rushed back to the castle. I set S ablaze, and my men massacred his.

I know my actions were rather harsh. D was distraught for weeks without knowing quite why. I will never dare tell her what happened, for I do not want her to hate me. My half-brother disappeared after the battle and has not contacted me since, and I fear for him. Yet I did this all in the name of a better future.

In the time since I became Emperor, I have established many policy changes aimed at bettering the life of the commonfolk. These changes are all in their infancy, but we have seen an improvement in the general quality of life, as well as had many members of the gentry rise to ranks otherwise unachieved.

S was a good man, but he blindly supported a system based solely on the merits of the nobility and never questioned the impact his actions had on the commonfolk. For him to become king would have been a disaster. Perhaps in another world he could have lived, but not in mine.

Edit: Yes, D is doing fine now. We are expecting a child! Some of the doctors say it may even be twins.

Edit Two: Regarding the group I am involved with, it is not a willing relationship. It is blackmail. One of my plans for my rule is to shake them from my grasp while also leading my country to a more tolerant future. It will take a lot of effort, but perhaps by the time I die I will see my efforts come to pass.

[plethoraworldatlas]

In February 2023, I stood outside the Democratic National Committee Winter Meeting handing out flyers. It was a bright, sunny day in downtown Philadelphia, but bone-chillingly cold; within just ten minutes I had lost feeling in my toes and fingers. I, along with a handful of other volunteers, was there to spread a heterodox and unpopular message: that Joe Biden, then cruising to his party’s renomination, should not seek another term in 2024.

Our flyers pointed to Biden’s shortcomings in his first term and how they would affect his candidacy in 2024 — how a lack of progressive policy achievements had damaged his reputation with critical constituencies that propelled him to victory in 2020, including young people, people of color, and grassroots activists. We highlighted his cratering popularity within his own party, how many Democrats already said that they preferred a different nominee at the top of the ticket in 2024.

We implored DNC members to take seriously the acute threat a second Trump term posed to our country’s democracy and earnestly reconsider whether Joe Biden was as well-positioned to defeat Trump as he had been in 2020. As we flyered in front of the hotel where DNC meetings were being held, a mobile billboard truck circled the block bearing our campaign slogan — “Don’t Run, Joe!”

How did DNC members, staffers, and media attendees react to our open display of dissent? About how you would expect — most ignored us, a few others mocked us, one or two even angrily confronted our ragtag group. U.S. media, when they grudgingly agreed to hear us out, wanted to know why, if our stance was truly held by a majority of Democrats, no one within the party agreed with us. Most of the U.S. journalists I spoke to that weekend approached me with a mix of bemusement and mild derision. None of our interviews made it into their coverage of the Winter Meeting.

In contrast, international press wanted to speak with us about our campaign. They asked thoughtful questions that revealed their honest impressions on the precarity of Biden’s position.

Meanwhile, something notable kept happening that weekend. Convention attendees would approach us, most looking over their shoulders, to express their quiet agreement with our position. “Who else is with you?” they wanted to know. Journalists told me that DNC members, even Democratic members of Congress, had privately expressed their concerns about Biden’s candidacy, but that none would go on the record. One DNC member approached me to say that he agreed completely with us, but that there was no way of changing the party’s approach at this late stage (never mind that the election was still nearly two years away). There was palpable anxiety bubbling under the surface of an apparently sober and pro forma party convening, but no one was willing to say the quiet part out loud.

[waeirfaahl]

The ghostly warriors issue

I think, since this mysterious warrior appeared in 1 episode, all people started to wonder, who this haunting and silent figure is. The most obvious answer — Death. I think, it’s pretty cool idea to see the physical embodiment of Death in Samurai Jack universe, how it takes various forms for everybody Death comes to.

All segments with this warrior and the beginning of the graveyard scene in 6 episode have one of the most stunning, haunting and mezmerizing visuals I’ve ever seen in animation. I love this supernatural, sinister emerald light and fog, mixed with the black silhuettes. Literally the other world.

But what answer we got from 5 season itself? Well, Genndy and the team wanted to add the symbolical character with psychological shade. The character symbolizes Jack’s depression, despair and guilt, that choked him all these 50 years.

And it’s really cool idea to show some Jack’s inner demons, which try to devour him out of inside to death, and how Jack defeats his inner demons. Like, he already had hallucinations in previous episodes, the warrior showed himself only to Jack in previous episodes. The concept is good, but... again, small contradictional details ruined it...

First of all, in 5 season the events of how Jack got depression are stupid. He (and clearly Aku too) forgot about magical creatures and artifacts with the ability of time travelling, i.e. there’s not only time portals, whose gates actually can be restored. Plus, Jack could assume that Aku intentionally fooled him into “Yeah, I destroyed all portals, now run to some secret ones I didn’t find myself, so I’ll destroy them too and make another prank for you” (honestly, in 4 season I was under impression that Jack decided to stay in the future — especially after The Aku Infection episode), but no. And just realize, how mind-blowing (in bad way) it is — instead of going down into the mountain and taking the sword back, Jack just went away and wandered these 50 years without the only weapon that can protect him from Aku. And all this time Aku could watch on him and know that the sword is lost and finally kill Jack, and all this time Jack could make this meditation journey or whatever it is for returning the sword, and all this time those three alien gods could resolve the problem themselves, but ignored... Jack literally survived only ‘cause of the bad and stupid script, which turned both Aku and Jack into idiots.

The contradictional details continue in 6 episode. Jack travelled many miles (including on the airship) and near all habitants he helped and saved earlier, and almost nobody saw him and literally nobody stopped him for some reason, and Jack somehow didn’t see them and didn’t realize that he saved many lives and has to live on... HOW?! And absolutely no bounty hunters, no spies and so on... But in the end of 6 episode this twist happens. This warrior is not one. Five warriors. And they’re not the metaphors or hallucinations in Jack’s mind. They’re real, ‘cause not only Jack can see them and even fight with them. 

Ashi sees them and even fights this warrior too. Somehow...

So... who the hell are they? Death gods? Entities, which feed on pain/fear/emotions/energy of their victims? Ghosts? Why they wanted Jack’s death and specifically waited for his own decision and agreement to die, if they’re absolutely real and could kill him themselves in 3 episode, when Jack had serious wounds, for example?

Why the regular sword kills the ghost? 

Why the other four warriors don’t help to their leader and just escape to their graves?

I would accept an explanation “The graveyard itself is magical, and it makes real absolutely all fears and negative emotions of its victim, so that’s how the shadow warriors became real ghosts, and when Jack overcame his inner demons, the graveyard has no power over him anymore, hence the warriors disappear”, but in this case Ashi would face and fight own fears and inner demons too (specifically scarier version of her mother). And it would be much better...

[magevivika]

The Labyrinth

((Content Warnings: mention of trauma, family rejection, mental illness, and familial abuse. Also Spoilers for Labyrinth (1986 film).))

I was very young when I first saw the 1986 movie Labyrinth. I don't know how old I was but the movie must have been out for at least a few years to make it onto a free broadcast television channel in Aotearoa/New Zealand. It left such an impression on me. Many people talk about the film as a sexual awakening for them and it was for me too - Jennifer Connelly as Sarah Williams is still breath-taking to this day - but it was also much more for me. At the time it was also possibly my first clue about my gender identity - I wanted to BE the Goblin King with his flamboyant fashion, the gravitas of his presence, and of course his magic. He was so much in control! It was a sight to behold.

But as I have grown older and experienced more of the world, while also exploring myself, both of these characters (and their supporting cast) have become so much more.

About the story: Sarah has an infant step-brother (Toby) from her father's new marriage whom she resents having to baby sit. She is a teenager yet still clings to the trappings of childhood in her stuffed animals, fantasy stories, and interests. Her step-mother expresses a desire for her to "date" and socialize which indicates that she is mostly off in her own little fantasy world with her Old English Sheepdog Merlin.

In the very first scene we see Sarah, dressed in a lavish gown, in a park speaking intensely. She demands "the child" and expresses that she is powerful - "My will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great" but there she falters. She can't remember the next line. She repeats the previous line then pulls out a book and we see she is reciting the lines of text. "You have no power over me" she reads and laments that she can never remember that line.

Then the clock tower bells begin and she realises she is late home - she runs through a sudden down-pouring of rain and we meet her father and step-mother. Her step-brother, she is informed, is already asleep but they're running late. Sarah is upset but dissuades her father's attempt to talk to her through her closed bedroom door before lamenting to herself about his lack of persistence. The parents leave. She notices that one of her teddy bears is missing and bursts into her parents' room where her step-brother is sleeping to see if it had been given to him and it is indeed in his crib. The baby wakes and she's forced to comfort him - except in her resentment she recites the book's incantation to ask that the goblins take the baby away to the Goblin King to become a goblin forever.

This is what sets the rest of the story in motion. The baby's cries suddenly stop when she leaves the room, the Goblin King appears before her to explain he has accepted the exchange to make Toby a goblin, and when she demands Toby back he issues her the challenge of solving his labyrinth within 13 hours under the agreement that if she does then he will return her brother.

Sarah is alone. She made this exchange, albeit ignorant of what she was actually agreeing to, alone. She accepted the challenge alone. She has no one to rely on in this, in the task of saving her brother, but herself. The Goblin King even deploys beings to thwart and redirect her. Yet over the course of the movie she gains friends through her bravery, kindness, perseverance, and generosity.

During the final scenes of the movie, once Sarah has finally solved the Labyrinth, she faces the Goblin King once more. He tells her that he has done so much for her, he took the child at her request, she feared him and he was obligingly frightening, he reordered time, and he has "done it all for you" - so generously. Sarah remains ungrateful and continues with the lines from the book. Jareth interrupts her again to claim that he is offering her her dreams and if she would "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." She falters on the same line as she did in the very first scene and repeats the prior.

But then she remembers: "You have no power over me." and everything shatters. The illusion of the power that the Goblin King holds over her is gone. She has fulfilled his unreasonable challenge of solving the Labyrinth and he was only delaying her rescuing her brother as promised. She is returned home and Toby is safely sound asleep in his crib.

A satisfying ending to an exciting tale. Life, often, deprives us of such satisfaction.

My own family of origin is highly dysfunctional, to this very day, and they live in a world of their own where those who harm them are inherently evil. I knew the unspoken rule that one must never speak any uncomfortable truths that would cause pain, make anyone feel bad about themselves, or be damning of those deemed 'good'. For if a 'good' person harms someone then it is not their fault - they have been harmed themselves so we must look the other way. I transgressed by disclosing that one of the 'good' people harmed me profoundly when I was very young. For this sin I have been labelled evil - though the words they use are 'liar' and perhaps 'crazy'. I am mentally ill. I have been diagnosed with chronic P.T.S.D. - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (the neuropsychologist also mentioned complex developmental trauma) from early childhood. It was not caused by a single event, although that one event was traumatic enough, and every 'good' person in my immediate family has deeply harmed me.

And that's why I must remind myself, daily, that they "have no power over me". They absolutely had every power over me when I needed them most and it is natural for my mind to struggle to release that impression. But they no longer have any power that I do not grant them. I have a hoard of friends and allies that I can summon at a moment's notice to support me when I'm in pain and to celebrate every joy with me. I have escaped their Labyrinth even if my mind sometimes still wanders those shifting corridors. I can rise above it, to see it for what it truly is, now. That's not to say it's easy. I still struggle with the feeling that I will face the same condemnation and rejection from others that my family provides. I do have a pair of family members who believe me and try their best to be supportive so I very much appreciate them both.

But, ultimately, my life now is like that final scene where Sarah is in the safety of her bedroom with all her friends celebrating together. She knows she can call on them as they have offered, explicitly, that "should you need us" they will be there. And she feels safe enough to admit that she does need them. "I don't know why, but, every now and then in my life, for no reason at all, I need you. All of you." And that's where I want to stay.

[lgctaeha]

╭  ✿ MTBD ! ╯

TEAM UNKNOWN 002 ; RAP LESSONS

"I can do it better! Really - !"

Taeha's silenced by the swift wave of two manicured fingers and a firm shhh! The coach's eyes are fixed on the iPad placed on the table between them, the sound of Taeha's first try at performing a few rap snippets filling the room. She's never been one to shy away from reviewing her performances, but listening to herself now was almost as excruciating as sitting through her first year communications lectures. The coach finally pauses the clip and hums. It was one of those hums. The kind of 'hum' that signals to a trainee already bursting at the seams with nerves that what she just presented was nothing short of -

'Impressive.'

"Wh - what?"

The coach nods once, scribbling a few quick notes onto the notepad at her side. 'You've improved a lot already.'

"R - really?! So... you - You don't hate it?"

'I do not,' the coach's usually stern tone softens, but her hand continues to steadily move along the lines of the page, leaving Taeha on edge. 'Relax. This isn't an evaluation. Breathe. In and out.' Taeha promptly obliges, sucking in a deep breath and quickly pushing it out, her shoulders drooping forward a bit. How long had she even been holding her breath for?! 'We still have a lot of work to do,' the coach adds, sliding the device across the table for Taeha to view. 'I want you to rewatch this section, but without sound.'

Although she can't help responding with a slight frown, she nods and leans forward to watch the clip with somewhat of an open mind. It is a bit bizarre to see herself this way - Brows furrowed and head moving this way and that, her hands flailing somewhat wildly in various gestures. Her coach reaches over to pause. 'What do you think?'

"I think... I think that I definitely need to work on my facial expressions? I look a bit..."

'Ridiculous? Yes." Wouldn't be her first choice of descriptor, but there was little room to argue. Taeha shrinks in her seat, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I guess.. I was just really trying to be like the artists you sent me? I watched so many performances and everyone is just so... It just seems so..." she trails off, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "I... I just don't know if I'm cut out for this kind of thing? I'm not really - I'm not very - "

'Uh huh,' the coach hums once again, pen still going. Taeha leans forward, trying to take a quick peek but the notepad is quickly tucked under the coach's chin. 'If you think you're not cut out for this kind of thing, then you're not.' Her heart sinks in her chest, eyes already beginning to well at the coach's instant ( a little too instant, if you'd asked her ) agreement. 'But,' she adds, playing the clip once more. There's a brief moment at the end of her reel where'd she'd clearly forgotten a lyric. She glances off camera into space, first staring blankly and then putting on a bright grin as the words finally come to her, wiggling back into center with her eye smile in full view. 'That. That did not look ridiculous. That is a Taeha that's cut out for this. That is rapper Taeha I want to see.'

"You... you want me to forget my lines?!"

'N - No, Taeha. I want you to be yourself! That's the whole reason you were chosen for this role. If we wanted another Kim Nayoon or CL, we would've gotten an impressionist. We want to see what you bring to the rap position. In this entire reel all I saw you do was mimic what you think a good rapper looks like. But that girl -' she emphasizes with a tap of her nail against the screen. 'That girl has the potential to be a great rapper. If she learns to relax. Breath in and out.'

Taeha gives a hum of her own, swiping away the tear that had still threatened to slip down her cheek - this time in relief instead of worry. "Breathe in and out," she repeats, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

'Good. Now, I want to hear you do those lines again, bar for bar, without all the... Whatever that was,' the coach chuckles, navigating to her sounds to play the selected track. Taeha sits back up in her seat, eyes wide and silently reminding herself to just breathe.