#no top ship of mine is immune to the hands drawing

[xieliancore]

Surprisingly enough, there was something similar to perfection about the two.

[someone-somewheresomehow]

Delayed Flight

After 5 months, I’ve finally posted another fic. Are y’all proud of me yet?

Characters: Roman Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders

Ships: Intrulogical

Content: Christmas fic bois, also Creativitwins (not ship!!)

Word Count: 3540 (exactly)

AO3

“4 hours?” Virgil groaned. “How can a flight be delayed that long?”

The flight attendant shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. We could transfer you onto a different flight, if you want?” She offered.

 “No, it’s okay.” Virgil said. He scanned the airport lounge. “I’ll wait.”

 Spotting an empty corner, he walked over and sat down, slipping his backpack off of his shoulders and placing it beside the couch. The rest of the lounge was nearly empty - everyone else had obviously taken the transfer offer. That was fine with Virgil - it meant that it was quieter. Leaning over to his backpack, he pulled out his headphones, connecting them and putting them on. He slipped into the music, the rest of the world fading out around him, pulling out his sketchbook and starting to draw.

 Only a few minutes later, someone came rushing in, disturbing the peace with the huge racket that they were making. Virgil looked up, annoyed, and watched as the person ran over to the desk. “Am I late?” He asked the attendant. She shook her head.

 “No, the flight has been delayed for 4 hours. You’re actually early!”

 The man looked startled, before he composed himself and grinned. “Nice! I’ll find a seat, then.”

 He turned around and surveyed the room. Virgil took this opportunity to look at him properly. The man had tanned skin and light brown hair. He seemed to hold himself as if he believed that he was better than everyone else, and he looked very confident, even if he didn’t mean to.

 The man looked in Virgil’s direction, and Virgil quickly turned back to his sketchbook. But it was too late - the man had spotted him watching and started heading in his direction.

 The man sat down next to Virgil. “I’m Roman.” He said. Virgil stared at it for a moment before shaking it. He looked up at Roman and noticed that his eyes were a bright bottle green that sparkled with excitement and humour.

 “I’m Virgil.” He replied. "Uh, why are you going to New York?"

 Roman’s eyes lit up. “I’m going to Broadway! I’m gonna see Hamilton! They’ve reunited for a tour!” Virgil smiled faintly at the other man’s excitement. “Oh, I’m also visiting a couple of friends. Why are you going to New York?”

 “I’ve also got a friend that lives there. I’m visiting him for a couple of weeks.”

 “Oh, neat! Do you like Hamilton as well?”

 “It’s okay, I guess. It’s kinda overrated.”

 Roman gave a dramatic gasp, placing one hand over his chest. “Overrated?! Virgil, I can’t believe you! Hamilton is an excellent musical, with beautiful songs performed by the wonderful Lin Manuel Miranda, Leslie Odom Jr., Phillipa Soo, and everyone else in the cast!”

 He continued ranting for a few minutes, while Virgil sat in silence. When he finished, he sat, panting from the passion that had taken over him. Virgil stayed silent for a couple more seconds, before smirking. “I never said it was bad. I just said it was overrated.”

 Roman gaped at Virgil. Virgil looked at him for a moment, soaking in the satisfaction that he gained from the flabbergasted look on Roman’s face, before slipping his headphones back on and returning to his drawing.

 Roman waved one hand in front of Virgil’s face, but after Virgil responded with a glare, he moved away, taking his stuff and sitting somewhere else. And for the next few hours, Virgil sat in blissful peace.

 After the flight, Virgil arrived at the airport. He got his luggage from the baggage area and made his way to the exit.

 Outside the airport, he checked his watch. Logan had been prepared to pick him up, but because of the delay Remus, Logan’s boyfriend who Virgil had never met before, was picking him up instead. He was supposed to be here in a minute or two.

 The sky was a cloudy grey, and looked at if it might start to snow. It certainly felt cold enough. Virgil shivered, glad that he had put his coat on before coming outside.

 “Virgil!” Someone called out. Virgil turned, and saw Roman walking towards him, his own luggage in tow.

 “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” Roman said when he reached Virgil.

 “It’s fine, man. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

 “I feel so bad, though! Can we meet up sometime so that I can make it up to you?”

 “You really don’t have to-”

 “I insist! We can go out and see the sights together, or maybe see a movie or something?”

 “Fine, sure, whatever.”

 Roman perked up. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and after a few swift taps, he handed it to Virgil. “Can you put your number in for me? That way I can call you about our plans!”

 Virgil took the phone and entered his number before handing it back to Roman. “Who are you waiting for?” He asked, changing the subject.

 “A friend of mine. His boyfriend was originally meant to be coming, but he couldn’t make it because of the delay of our flight. Annoying, am I right? Anyways, what about you?”

 “Oh, same here! I don’t know his boyfriend, though, so that will be a new experience. I think his name is Remus?”

 Roman gave a start. “Remus? Is his boyfriend called Logan?”

 “Uh, yeah?” Virgil replied, confused. Then it dawned on him. “Are you being picked up by them as well?”

 “Yeah, I am! This is awesome! We can get to know each other properly!” Roman was practically vibrating in excitement.

 Suddenly, a voice called out their names. “Roman! Virgil!”

 They both turned, to see a man running towards them. He had light brown hair, with one grey streak running through it, and had the wisps of a mustache that was just starting to grow. He was wearing a green tank top, along with a pair of black shorts, as if he were immune to the cold. He jogged towards them, one hand waving in the air.

 “Virgil,” Roman sighed. “Meet my brother, Remus, Logan’s boyfriend.”

 “It’s nice to meet you, Virgil!” Remus greeted. “Good that you two have already met! That way we can get the boring ‘making acquaintances’ stuff out of the way!”

 He turned back towards the way he had come, and gestured for them to come with him as he started heading off. “This way!” He called.

 Virgil and Roman set off after him, heading into the carpark. When they reached the car, Roman called shotgun, leaving Virgil to sit in the back. They drove to Logan and Remus’ shared apartment, the way mostly filled by Remus’ constant chatter.

 When they reached the apartment, Roman and Remus led the way while Virgil followed behind. They had started bickering over which musical was the best, Roman going for the obvious choice, which was Hamilton, while Remus went for Beetlejuice.

 Just as they got to the door, Roman turned around. “Which one do you think is better, Virgil? Beetlejuice or Hamilton?”

 “Hmm…” Virgil thought for a moment. “Personally, I think that Beetlejuice is better than Hamilton.”

 “Ha!” Remus crowed triumphantly. He opened the door and turned back to Roman. “I told you so!”

 “But!” Virgil interrupted. “Starkid musicals are better than both of them.”

 “No way!” Remus and Roman both said at the same time.

 “What are you lot yelling about? Hurry up and come inside!” A familiar voice called out from inside the apartment.

 They went inside and were greeted by Logan, who was wearing his usual black shirt and pants. The room was dimly lit, a few overhead lights having been turned on and the rest of the light coming from the soft glow of fairy lights on a Christmas tree in one corner.

 “Hey Logan!” Roman greeted.

 “Hi.” Virgil greeted Logan as well.

 “I’m glad to see that you two are acquainted. I apologise for not being able to pick you up, but the delay put me in a difficult position, as I was unfortunately busy during the time when I would have needed to get you. I also apologise for not telling either of you that the other was visiting.”

 “It’s fine, man. We’re practically best friends now!” Roman threw one arm around Virgil’s shoulders.

 “So you’re dating Remus?” Virgil asked, shrugging off Roman’s arm.

 “Yes.” Logan confirmed. Remus walked over to him and they shared a kiss. Roman and Virgil stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do until they broke apart. Logan’s face was flushed, and he had a lovesick smile on.

 “Did you wear a shirt and shorts in the freezing weather again? One of these days you’ll get sick, and when you do you better not claim that I didn’t warn you.” Logan told Remus quietly before turning back to Virgil and Roman.

 “Let me show you where you’re sleeping.” He flapped one hand aimlessly and led them away.

 The rest of the week was filled with fun - they went shopping together, saw Hamilton on Broadway (which was wonderful - Roman was talking about it for two days afterwards), and even went ice-skating together at a local ice-rink, making sure that they all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold winter’s air. Remus was an excellent ice-skater, and Logan and Virgil weren’t too bad either, but Roman was absolutely terrible, holding on to the wall most of the time. When he mustered the courage to let go, he had to cling on to one of the others to stay upright, often making both of them fall. There was lots of laughter that day, and Roman’s nose turned red from the cold (definitely not from embarrassment, Roman told them), but he restored his dignity when they bought hot chocolate to get warm and Remus tripped over, spilling it all over himself.

 On Friday, they were sitting on the couch, watching TV, just lazing around doing nothing. They had spent the day exploring whichever parts of the city they hadn’t already seen, and were happily resting.

 “Oh!” Roman suddenly cried out. “I just realized! Virgil, I need to make it up for you!”

 “Wha- oh.” Virgil said, realizing what he meant. “No, it’s really fine, Roman, we’ve spent the entire week having fun together, you don’t have to-”

 “I insist! Really!”

 “What happened?” Remus asked. “What did you do, dear brother of mine?”

 “I- in the airport, I kind of maybe accidentally took something he said wrong and went off on a rant about it?” Roman looked down guiltily.

 Virgil sighed. “The dumbass that he is went off on a rant about how I was wrong for saying Hamilton was bad when all I said was that it was overrated. Which is not the same thing.”

 “And now you have to make it up to him?” Remus looked at Roman, a huge grin on his face. Roman nodded slightly sheepishly, and Remus’ grin widened. “Well, there’s a nice cafe around the corner. You two could go there together. It’s new - I’ve been meaning to take Logan there.” Logan and Remus shared a love-filled smile.

 “Wow.” Roman looked back at Remus. “For once you’ve actually had a good idea.”

 “I- for once?!” Remus spluttered. He looked at Logan. “Can you believe what this man is saying?!”

 “Virgil, unless you have other plans, tomorrow I invite you to come to the cafe with me in order for me to make it up to you!” Roman said triumphantly before Logan could reply.

 “Um, sure, I guess.”

 “Fantastic! It’s a date!”

 The next morning Roman and Virgil set off for the cafe. They left Remus and Logan at the apartment, as they were doing… other things.

 The walk to the cafe was a short one, and was filled with talking. For a man that short, Roman sure had a lot to say.

 The bell above the door rang as they entered the cafe. The air immediately warmed up, a stark contrast to the cool Christmasy air outside. The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, and they breathed in deeply.

 The cafe was loud with chatter as Roman and Virgil approached the wooden counter. They waited in line for a minute or two before they were at the front.

 “Hi, what can I get for you today?” The employee asked cheerily, even though they were probably dead inside like most retail employees are.

 “One caramel frappuccino for me, a small black coffee for him, and one slice of apple crumble to share please!”

 They paid and went to their table to wait, chatting a bit more. Their names were called out, and they got their items, before returning to the table.

 “So, do you live in Gainesville?” Roman asked, downing half of his drink in one sip.

 “Yeah, why?”

 “I live there as well! We can meet up sometime after we go back!”

 “Neat! When are you leaving here?”

 “I’m here over Christmas, so about 2 more weeks. You?”

 “I leave tomorrow.”

 “Noo!” Roman cried dramatically, attracting the attention of a few people nearby before they quickly turned back to their own conversations. “So soon?”

 “Yep. I’m celebrating Christmas with my roommate, Patton. He’s a good guy, I don’t want him to spend Christmas alone.”

 “Oh, dang. I get it. Spending Christmas alone isn’t great.” He sighed. There was a short, awkward silence before the topic quickly changed.

 They ate the cake and drank their drinks - Roman finishing his quickly and trying to steal some of Virgil’s, with Virgil having to hide it away from him to be able to keep it for himself - before going back to the apartment. They had decorated it during the week, as the only decoration that they had arrived to was the Christmas tree. Now holly was strung up on the edges of the ceiling and fairy lights hung over doorways. Remus had tried to put up mistletoe everywhere but was stopped by a loudly protesting Virgil. Of course, he would still put it up occasionally, but it was dutifully ignored.

 Virgil knocked on the door, and was greeted by Remus.

 “You guys can’t come in yet! Go away!” He told them, grinning, before shutting the door in their faces.

 Virgil and Roman stared at the plain wood in front of them, as if that would make it magically open, but it didn’t, because doors don’t work that way.

 They exchanged glances. “What was that about?” Roman asked. Virgil shook his head - how would he know?

 The door creaked open a crack, and Remus poked his head out, this time looking disappointed. “Logan said I have to let you in. You just have to wait a moment.”

 “Sure, I guess.” Roman replied as Remus closed the door again.

 There was a short pause while quiet shuffles could be heard from behind the door. “Move it to the bedroom.” They could hear Logan whispering. Loud crumpling pursued, fading off.

 Logan opened the door and Virgil and Roman jumped slightly backwards from where they definitely weren’t listening with their ears to the door. There was an awkward pause, before Logan said, “Come on in.”

 Virgil and Roman shuffled in sheepishly, not bothering to wipe their boots on the mat before pulling them off their feet along with taking off their hats, scarves and jackets.

 “What-” Roman started before Virgil whacked him with a glove, shutting him up.

 “It’s pretty obvious, just use your head and don’t spoil it!” Virgil hissed. Roman turned bright red but didn’t say anything. They both entered the apartment and spoke no more about it.

 The next day, Virgil was standing in the living room, saying his final goodbyes to Remus and Roman before he left for the airport. They had had a wonderful time together, and would certainly be missing each other.

 Remus and Logan stood together. Logan whispered to Remus and Remus nodded before running to the bedroom and coming back, carrying something behind his back.

 “Since you can’t stay for Christmas, we bought something for you slightly earlier!”

 He pulled out a present, neatly wrapped in red with a green bow tying it all together. Virgil took it from him and held it, trying to guess what it was. It was flat, and not too thick - maybe a big book?

 “You can open it now or when you get home, we don’t mind!”

 “I’ll open it now.” Virgil smiled and unwrapped the present, revealing a sketchbook with a plain, cardboard.

 He looked at it for a moment, before flipping through the pages, admiring the plain white pages, ready for him to start drawing.

  “Do you like it?” Logan asked. “We thought you would like it, but if you don’t we can give you the receipt. It is a bit plain.”

 “No, it’s great! Thank you!” Virgil drew both Remus and Logan into a hug, and after a moment where they were overcome with surprise, they hugged back.

 After they broke apart, Roman stepped forward. “I also got you a present, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it as much.” He held out another present for Virgil, this one wrapped in white wrapping paper that had golden swirls all around it with a red bow slapped on top of it. Virgil slung off his backpack and carefully put the sketchbook inside, ready for use for whenever he mustered up the courage to ruin its perfectly white pages with his drawings, which like with every notebook will immediately make him feel bad before he goes on a drawing spree, filling it up with wonderful art.

 Virgil took the present from Roman and unwrapped it, struggling for a minute with the layer of tape that was wrapped around the entire thing before finally tearing it off, along with the wrapping paper. Virgil felt a bit guilty about doing it so crudely, but ignored the guilt and focused instead on the present. In his hands was a pack of pens - a giant packet, with every colour imaginable.

 “I- you bought this for me?” Virgil stammered, shocked.

 “Yeah.” Roman rubbed his neck awkwardly, looking slightly embarrassed. “Do you like it?”

 “Like it?” Virgil carefully put the pens on the couch, making sure that no one would sit on it before launching himself at Roman. Roman nearly fell over, and if Virgil could see his face he would have noticed how red Roman had become.

 “I love it. Thank you so much!”

 Roman stood awkwardly for a moment before embracing the hug, hugging back. They held the hug for a moment more before Virgil stepped back, picking the pens back up and holding them close to his chest for a second before placing it into his backpack, even more carefully than he had put the sketchbook inside. When he straightened back up (though he was still as gay as ever), the room was practically lit by his smile.

 “I have presents for you guys as well!” He handed each of them a package, each one badly wrapped in the same wrapping with the words Merry Christmas printed over and over on it in red and green writing. Logan, Roman and Remus took each of theirs and began opening it, Roman and Remus ripping the wrapping to pieces while Logan completed the procedure more carefully.

 Remus revealed his first - soap and deodorant. He bit into the soap, as he usually did, and was delighted to find that it was made out of chocolate!

 Roman came next - he got a packet of paints. There weren’t as many colours as the pack of pencils, but he was still super happy and excited to use them.

  Logan finished opening his last, the wrapping paper falling away to reveal the dvds of the bbc series Sherlock. Logan was practically vibrating with excitement to watch all of them.

 There were a few minutes of hugs and thank-yous before Logan stepped forward. “Though I hate to be the one to do this, I’m afraid that we have to depart now if you wish to make the flight. Have you got all of your things?” He asked Virgil.

 “I do.” Virgil replied, picking up his backpack and pulling it onto his shoulders.

 “Right, well then.” Logan started heading towards the door.

 “It was great to meet you guys!” Virgil told Remus and Roman, waving before he turned and walked towards where Logan was holding the door open, pulling his suitcase behind him.

 He exited the apartment and waved one final time before Logan closed the door and they headed down to the car.

 They drove together, chatting with each other as music played on the radio, until they reached the airport. Logan walked with Virgil as far as he could, until they had to part.

 “It was great seeing you!” Virgil said.

 “It was! I’m glad you could make it.”

 After a moment they hugged, holding on for as long as they could before letting go. Virgil waved, and started heading off.

 He went through the rest of the process and finally settled onto his seat on the plane (fortunately the flight wasn't delayed this time).

 As the plane started lifting into the air, he looked out the window, headphones placed comfortably on his head, and headed back home.

[zeroxz21]

[WP] You're the most powerful villian in the world. Formerly. Now you run a bar, that works as a neutral zone for heros and Villians alike. One day, a hotshot hero tries to arrest you.

A short story I wrote based on this writing prompt, submitted on reddit by u/zxcxdr:

So first of all, I accomplished what no other villain or hero has ever done, before or since.  

I Won. And by Won, I mean there was nowhere up for me to go. I dominated the world uncontested.  

  How did I get there? Well, it started small. I was among one of the first, you know, except I didn't know it to start with. One of the first superpowered humans. Even *my* scientists still aren't sure what started the cascade of births of humans that exhibited supernatural phenomena. My power, I eventually realised, was that of mental suggestion, control, and manipulation. I had unwittingly climbed my way up through the education system and into being the owner of multiple successful business enterprises, before I figured out how it had come to be that I had accomplished this. Not through my skill and intelligence alone, but because I had coerced those around me into following my will without even realising until then.  

That first ‘hero’, back when they were totally unrestrained vigilantes, had decided that I had too much of a monopoly, and decided it must be wrong somehow. They came to stop me. They found me, and though they were not an especially strong superhuman by many of the standards we now find, it was more than a match for the ordinary man that was me. I was not incompetent in martial arts but it didn’t do much against someone who could feasibly tackle a rhino in hand-to-hand combat. I was swiftly levelled, bones broken, bleeding from cuts and gashes their blows inflicted. I was messed up, my life beginning to flash before my eyes. They loomed over me, ready to finish me off, this self proclaimed executor of justice. I closed my eyes, willing desperately that they’d just leave me alone, let me live, please!... and they did. I peeked out of my blackened eyes, just to see them turn and walk away. Totally inexplicably. It was then that I figured out exactly what gift I had.  

I curbed myself for a time, so as to avoid drawing further unwanted attention, as I learned to harness my powers more deliberately. Everything now made sense, fell into place. I could do anything with this. So I did.  

My empire grew, eventually expanding beyond my birth country into others. My profits I collected entirely for myself, other than what investment was needed to expand my business fronts. I used much of them to hire many learned people in order to do research for me, and me alone. Biology, genetics, engineering, physics. I wasn't sure what I needed them for yet, or how big I would grow. I just knew that I wanted to be bigger. My power was to control, to dominate, after all. It was… only natural, that I exerted that power as far as I could.  

I briefly considered using the fruits of my research to further enhance my business, but then realised I was doing just fine increasing my monopolies without them. All the better that I save the results of that research myself, to ensure I was always several steps ahead of the rest of the world; weapons and defense tech, medicine, computing, so on.  

I increasingly tangled with heroes and villains of various stripes. Heroes who disrupted my more illicit machinations, villains who saw me as a threat to their own plans of domination. This was very rarely directly with me, of course, but with some subdivision somewhere several steps down the chain of command; I had learned from that first brush to keep myself better hidden, allowing others to be the face of things, even behind the scenes. By now I had amassed hordes of paid mercenaries, assassins, my new robotics division, and other superpowered people I had brought under my personal manipulations, in order to counteract any interference. I was absolutely untouchable.  

It took nearly a century before the governments and public at large realised just how much my empire had begun to infiltrate and control the world. One particularly devious heroine managed to connect the dots in secret, somehow beneath my notice, and outed to the world how all these businesses were, behind the scenes, all feeding their profits, and being controlled by, a singular source. It was a scandal that shook the world, the anti-monopoly laws many countries had having been long, long broken.  

It was especially damning for them as they knew not how to respond. I simply owned everything. Food production and dispersion, communication services, military research, utilities production, construction, banks… so much of what society at large relied upon to function was connected, at the top, to myself. My personal identity and existence remained hidden, so no one knew what they were all collaborating for, not even the higher ups that operated for each of these factions knew, just had a strange urge to do certain things, send supplies off to who knows where, transfer funds into a nameless back account. All easily hidden as I owned and operated all these things myself, and controlled everyone involved at a higher level. No one who knew would call me out.  

For me, much had changed. In secret, knowing this would happen eventually, I had been building myself up. I had a top of the range facility hidden in the middle of the ocean in a politically neutral zone, with little marine life to draw ships to it, seeing as the currents were not favourable. And I say top of the range, well it was more than that, seeing as top of the range would be the height of what is available on the public market.  

I had carefully held back the technological advance of society, everything being over five decades behind where it would be if I hadn’t deliberately drip fed out new advancements.

So, where was I all this time? Hidden in my top secret facility. A small island, purely of my design, I had spent a decade in the past building up the foundations. My own personally designed ecosystem kept the island naturally functioning, enhancing long term stability. The facility itself, totally secure from any and all detection by ‘modern’ top military tech of any nation, immune to any conceivable attack. And further than that, resistant to all known and documented superpowers out there. Laser vision, temperature manipulation, pyrokinesis, raw enhanced strength - nothing would get through the advanced materials and defensive technology my cabal of enthralled scientists had been devising.  

And if that wasn’t enough, I myself was all but untouchable too. My biological and cybernetic divisions had enhanced my body, infusing me with powers taken from the heroes and villains over the years that had unwittingly crossed me, new abilities and enhancements on top of that they had devised. I was as close to immortality as was feasible to achieve. I certainly wasn’t ageing, hence all these extraordinarily long term plans by the standard of any other villain who sought ‘world domination’. They were foolish to me.  

Yes, you may notice I haven’t mentioned them much. Heroes, villains. They were there, but all just part of a much larger framework. If it wasn’t for me, they may have been much more significant. But, supposed villains were as much as problem as a hero finding me out were, so I ensured they were stopped before they got out of hand. As such, heroes never rose up to be the executors of justice they probably would have done, because significant foes that needed that kind of response never truly existed. Back then, to me, they were all just the superhumans. Just another aspect to worry about.  

So it was that I broadcast publicly for the first time. I told everyone of who I was, what I had been up to all these years (not in any real detail, of course). I told them of my powers, my control of the world, and my personal supremacy as an individual being. All would kneel before me at my command, all would do as I bid of them. No one would resist.  

Naturally, those in governmental positions who were not being manipulated against it, all took this as an act of war. Many of the stronger world powers immediately launched large scale assaults on my facility, easy to triangulate with such a large broadcast. Many superhumans of all stripes also joined the charge. Nuclear warheads, missiles, bombs, even some advanced laser weaponry, was fired upon me, the might of nations focused on a single point, as well as fire, lightening, strange energies and brute force hurled at my fortress by the superhumans themselves.  

My facility’s highest recorded energy expenditure during the prolonged, month long assault was 23.7% of maximum output.  

Having exhausted themselves of so many resources, I sent out my own, entirely robotic and unmanned ‘military’ to forcefully seize control of any and all places that had defied me; I might have controlled much of the business side of the world, but the people themselves, the politics and governments, had been difficult to fully control, only influence and hold back from achieving too much undesired progress. It was an easy, simple coup.  

The world was mine, none would ever again raise a hand against me. Me long, long plan was finished. I went to my station, ready to make my second broadcast. I would tell them all to…  

What was I going to tell them all to do?  

I sat down then in the chair before the cameras and microphones, slumping. It had been pure instinct and human nature to be the top of the food chain, to be safe and uncontested, to be the fittest in the survival of the fittest. But now that I was here, completely and utterly with no resistance or further efforts to secure and maintain my position really needed… why was I here? I had never really thought what would be done beyond this point, merely that there was a drive to be in this position.  

I could tell the world to do anything. To kneel, bend a knee to my power. But this was the pathetic folly of monarchs and tyrants past; the forceful submission of people didn’t really have much meaning for me. I didn’t really care. But what else was there to do? Just let them carry on? I could have stayed here, quiet and safe, without enforcing my will over the world. But then, that was what I was good, it was my power that had started off all these things. It had to mean something.  

So I thought about things. What did I want to do with them, the world? Moreso, what did I want to do with me? What did my life mean?... what did theirs? Everyone else?  

I listened to what the world was doing. Apathy reigned. Resigned to their fate with no choice at all, productivity of the world was declining. Motivation to continue producing, creating, living, was beginning to decline, and had been since my announcement. It had taken a steeper turn again since my forces had been sent out. Birth rates plummeted, as did the marriages, the kindling of new relationships, even divorces and splits.  

I sat on the moon, watching the planet for myself. I spent some time there, watching it turn. I watched the lives people lived, listened to their pleas to one another. I don’t know when exactly I realised what the truth was, that free will was important above all. For life has no meaning if you cannot, in some small way, control your own fate, have some say in it. This is at least one of the meanings of life, for I would not dare so arrogantly claim to have divined the one true meaning of it.  

I still didn’t know what I wanted for myself, but at least, for the world at large, I knew what needed to be done. No matter whether my intentions would have been good or evil, right or wrong, anything other than what I was to do would be appropriate.  

It was two and a half months when the second of my worldwide broadcasts went out. I breathed in a sigh, put on the mask, and appeared before the world, and told them:  

That they were free. That I would withdraw any and all of my forces. That I would relinquish control of all people, to do as they wished, for themselves. That humanity would be truly free for the first time in over a century, since my dominion had begun. I told them I would remain here, just in case to prevent true calamities, but that otherwise their fate was now their own.  

Switching off the broadcast, I broke down, completely and utterly, weeping ugly tears as for the first in one hundred and seventeen years, 4 months and 12 days, I pulled in my power to control the will of others.  

I don’t know how long I was out cold on the floor for, exactly. I had not realised the pressure it had been having on me, years of building up endurance and resistance allowing my stranglehold to grow impossibly vast. I couldn’t rest yet though; I needed to check on my facilities. All my scientists, researchers and their families (some no local here into the third generation of being my thralls) had just been freed.  

I went to them, seeing into their rest chambers before I entered for myself. I wretched as I saw the expressions on their faces, far deeper than mere confusion as those I controlled elsewhere may have felt. I wasn’t sure I could live with myself, but then, suicide was simply not acceptable; after what I had done to the world, the least I could do was safeguard it from destroying itself. If those nuclear weapons had been trained anywhere but here…  

I entered, then, and called the attention of all those who lived here with me. For me, really. No one had ever really been… with me. It was strange, how I could watch the world and how people lived, had my scientists study the depths of human psychology and social need - and not apply it to myself. I had no friends or family to speak of.  

Having seen the broadcast themselves, I reiterated it to them personally, and what it meant for them: they were free to do as they wished. If they wanted to go anywhere, I would take them, do whatever they needed to be set up safe and secure away from here, and out amongst the nations. I also offered a home for those that wished to stay, and further their studies here, as I explained that I would remain on watch for the world to try to prevent the worst of potential consequences, either from the people to each other, or an unseen natural calamity. Remaining ahead of the militaries of the world would be prudent. I told them they did not have to make an immediate decision, but to let me know of their wishes by the end of the week, preferably.  

I spent the week isolated while I waited for answers, trying and failing to determine what my own purpose and desires might be. I left the isolation at the end of the week, nervous as to what messages had been left for me.  

It shook me to my core to find that I didn’t even have any.  

I went out and spoke to them, then, not as their ruler, but as a compatriot. I was amazed at their kindness and generosity towards me. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve it. My psychologist team laughed off the explanation that I had actually enacted effectively the results of their research into my home for, such that they were all kept happy even on finding out they had been under my thrall for so long.  

So I asked them, if they would be so kind, what about me? Unfortunately, they couldn’t decide for me. That would have to be something I found for myself.  

There was plenty to do, don’t get me wrong, but one finds one needs a drive to truly thrive. I watched the happenings of the world for clues. Most hobbies I had indulged in at some point, but nothing like that was really enough.  

A curious development over the coming months was the marked rise in superhumans having influence on society. Often at odds with one another, marked heroes and villains arose. Villains threw their weight around, trying to bend society to their will and under them, as heroes rose to meet them in battle, both physical and ideological. The right and wrong of the matter was rarely clear in such engagements, a far cry from the cheap fictional heroes that had provided entertainment for many over the years.  

Large factions formed, self proclaimed Lords of Evil, Bearers of Light and so on had increasing social, and eventually political, influence. They were beginning to drive the turn of society.  

But so their powers grew. Able to exercise them to their totality, villains I might see from the past that could turn the wind cold, were now able to chill entire towns. A mighty hero who lifted a car to save a child was now able to grapple with a mountain avalanche. I was concerned things were getting out of hand, excessive loss of life and environmental damage may occur. I was not sure what to do with this; I had my concerns, but I was also unwilling to interfere. Especially so now that the only way to stop this sort of thing was personal intervention with individuals, which was far more meddling than merely blocking some wayward missiles or asteroids would be, which was the sort of thing I’d had in mind.  

As I watched the increasingly ridiculous scope of clashes unfold, tens of superpowered men and women crashing into one another like forces of nature, from many factions founded all over the world, I wondered if things could be settled with talking. Some tried it and usually bore the brunt of a violent, energetically charged response from the opposition, hero/villain relations now being reduced to attacking one another on principle, so deep had the hatred become over the years.  They all had so much pent up emotion and energy, always needing to exert it somehow, the barest excuse. Always fearful of the opposition, true rest was rarely coming to them, either. They were all trapped in a cycle of constant escalation.  

One day when I was relaxing a bit, I was watching a rather old film of fictional heroes and villains clashing (at the time the fictional beings had looked impressive, now paling against the excesses of modern superhumanity’s capabilities) over something or other, when an idea hit me. I watched them broker a moot, which fell apart, but it lasted a while. I wondered if it could have gotten somewhere if tempers had been held more in check? Then the idea struck me. These people needed some sort of no man’s land, where they could rest, maybe talk things out if they fancied it, even. A true neutral zone. Something that no nation on Earth could hope to provide.  

But maybe I could.  

I discussed the suggestion at length with my scientists from various departments, but preeminently the psychologists. I noticed hidden smiles from others as I talked enthusiastically about my plans and what could be done. I eventually realised they were happy for me, seeing I had found some sort of purpose. I smiled back.  

The place needed to be well designed, able to bear the brunt of their outbursts. But ultimately, I would be responsible for managing it; my many enhancements and stolen powers meant I was more than a match for any who dared break the peace. An overseer of sorts, like I always had been. Just now, it would be used for maintain a neutrality and allow the wills of others their freedom to be expressed, not to throttle it. The physicists and advanced materials teams designed the functional underlay of it all. But the atmosphere and visuals were also important.  

After much study, argument, and discussion, the decided ideal setting for a neutral, restful zone was… a bar, strangely enough. It would function as a bed and breakfast setting, with beds freely available, but the main draw was the large bar area. Visually designed to mimic a classic English bar, dark coloured wood and leather seating throughout, this had been decided to be the best setting to encourage a relaxed atmosphere in the patrons. When construction was complete, I raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help myself grinning in pleasure at the sight of it. Compared to what I had been used to, it was pretty twee and mundane, but then, maybe what was the appeal. I couldn’t help but appreciate it. I profusely thanked everyone for their help, and we had a party that night, the bar all to ourselves this one night.  

The day of opening had arrived. The set up was perfect, if I did say so myself: my - our - island home was politically neutral from all nations due to its location, and would be readily accessible once I launched the warp in locations which I’d quietly been setting up in the world at large. The bar itself was time dilated, so that those entering and leaving always found it approximate to the time zone of where they had arrived from, so patrons from around the world would all be experiencing the evening bar simultaneously.  

I excitedly put out a new broadcast advertising ourselves, though less intrusive to the population of course. Freely available to all superhumans, faction affiliated or otherwise, our traditional bar would serve as a safe haven when you needed a break from the wears and tears of a newly free world at odds with itself. Verbal sparring was the limit of the altercations that would be permitted.  

The Bar, so it was called, had its inaugural opening evening at 6pm that night. Bewildered and unsure, a few heroes and villains from all corners of the world began to pop in through the warp system. Some were in costume, others in casual dress. They all shifted uncomfortably, speaking little to one another. I decided to break the ice.  

“First drink’s on the house!” I declared loudly, drawing all eyes to me as I swiftly littered the bar with glasses and pitchers, filled with all sorts of ales, beers and wines. Of course, anything anyone asked for could be procured, but I figured they were a bit shy for that. “Of course, all your future drinks will be too, but come on anyway, help yourself!”  

Some of the nervous guests drew near. The first I recognised as Cascademan, wearing his trademark suit of multiple blue hues. He eyed a tall, thin glass of sparkling white, before taking it and touching it to his lips. He gave me a shy nod before backing away.  

In my excitement, I’d all but forgotten my own reputation amongst them all. Now was not the time to crumble, however. I needed to remain strong and confident. What else could a bar owner be? I was the only one here; I had not wanted to risk any of my friends getting injured until we could be sure of their safety. I had to keep the mood lifted, and if necessary, keep order. Naturally, that was when the shouting began.  

The members of two rival factions had gotten into a shouting match, the length and breadth of their rage and insults escalating rapidly. I sighed irritatedly and loudly, hoping to get their attention. The threat was lost on them.  

Magma-Eye was spearheading for his side against Chaoschick (the names sounded a bit silly to me, but it was heavily determined by the publicity angle). Heroes, villains, all the same to me; they often thought it held real weight, but so often villains and heroes argued amongst themselves that to me the distinction was a bit meaningless.  

I made my way through the bar (literally) towards them, others stepping back as I closed in on them. Chaoschick was first to lose her rag, her bizarre energy coursing through her body as she visibly channelled it into her fist. Everyone nearby cowered as she thrust it forwards, expecting to be blasted across the room.  

With a casual wave of my hand, all her energy dissipated into the air. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, the wind taken out her.  

“No. Fighting.” I said, calmly, sure to infuse it with the air of a threat not yet made real. Eyes widened as they looked at me with a mixture of awe and fear.  

“Just… come get some drinks. Chill, relax, chat, whatever. That’s what this place is for!” I told them, cheerfully, before making my way back to the other side of the bar and loudly making some mixers.  

That seemed to break the ice, a couple of more interested looking supers coming closer.

“What you makin’ there?” Whip-Wild asked me.  

“A little number I devised; base of pineapple juice, a shot of tequila, some lemon and lime juice, and the tiniest, teeniest pinch, of liquid nitrogen!” Supers were generally hardier than the average human, even before any wild powers they might possess were part of the equation.  

I finished shaking the drink together, pouring it smoothly into a steel goblet. Mist drifted over the sides as I did so. “Haven’t named it, yet.” I pushed the drink towards him.  

He took it, eyeing it curiously, before putting down a swig. He grimaced at the powerful flavour, before regaining his composure.  

“That there sure is some strong stuff. Thanks, pardner!” He exclaimed excitedly. I grinned, pleased. Nothing like a good, stiff drink for people to commiserate over. “Hey, Steelskin! Come ‘ere, try summa this!”

I cheerfully mixed up and set out more of the drinks all over the bar as the patrons made their way up to the bar, each finding their own drinks and bringing their friends over.  

Magma-Eye and Chaoschick had been left alone awkwardly, their allies having ditched them for making a scene. A pair of drinks made their way into their unwitting hands. They looked at me in confusion, as I just grinned knowingly at them from my behind the bar position.  

They looked at each other, nervously laughing as they both took a sip of their drinks. Chaos smiled appreciatively as Magma inspected it.  

“Uh…” Magma asked, awkwardly. Not really sure how to interact with his arch nemesis outside of a spirited pummelling. “You, uh, like that, then?”  

“Yeah, I do…” They looked around the room in silence. “This is pretty weird, huh?” Chaos said.

Magma nodded. “We did both come here, I guess. We could, um… grab a table?”

“I’m game if you are.” She challenged him, sauntering towards the nearest empty table, sliding into the booth seat.  

I watched as he followed her and sat opposite. Glancing around the room, they seemed to be mingling a bit. Mostly people with more shared interests were keeping to themselves, but it was early days yet. Maybe the tempests around the world would calm a bit, now…  

  It’s been fifty seven years since that night. The Bar is still going strong, more popular than ever. Society is still divisive at times, and likely will be forever to some extent; people will always differ in opinion, and supers will always fight it out, either individually or on behalf of their country or faction.  

But I remain here. Serving drinks and keeping the peace. And I’ve never been happier with my place in the world. I’d like to think in some small way, I’ve atoned for all that I did. I still don’t know, of those who come in here, who’s right and who’s wrong. Maybe no one ever will objectively discover that truth, if it even exists. All I can do is ensure the worst never befalls us all, and maybe just keep things out there just a bit calmer.  

  ~~~  

  The darkness was beginning to lift. Where was I, I wondered… the fog began to lift. I could feel the heavy leather seat supporting my body, and noticed a small table before me. The bustle and bustle of The Bar began to enter my ears. Then everything that just happened came back to me.  

“Ooohh…” I moaned as I felt my head throb. My memories were a total mess; those weren’t mine. Uurgh…  

“I told you to cut it out.” I heavy voice boomed before me. My voice? No, those weird memories… oh. I remember what happened now, I think.  

I stood up, ready to attack the evil MaesterMind before me, before my head swam heavily and I fell back into my seat.  

He shook his head. “Just… stop. Think for a minute. What did I just show you?”  

I couldn’t help but listen. I sat a moment as I woke up properly, remembering everything I’d just dreamed.  

Wow… that was a lot to take in. I groaned as I sunk my head forward into my palm, elbow rested on the table.  

MaesterMind turned and headed back behind his bar, whipping up a quick drink before coming back to me. He put the fizzy picture down in front of me. I took it and downed it.  

“...I hate doing that.” He said.  

“Sorry you had to.” I said. “I just heard things, I guess, and-”  

He raised a hand. “Don’t worry about it.” I turned his head to another commotion elsewhere. He sighed irritatedly. “Shout if you need anything else.” He put on a bit of a forced smile and headed for the commotion.  

As he left, my head thunked onto the table. How could I have been so stupid, trying to arrest freaking MaesterMind. What even for? I waved a hand to get the attention of a passing waitress. She smiled cheerily upon seeing me and approached.  

“Oh, hello Ma’am. I don’t recognise you, are you new here, Miss…?”  

“Jenny-Justice. Can I get something stiff, please?”  

“Yeah, not surprised after the ol’ Maester did that to ya. I know just the thing for ya, girly.” She swiftly headed to the bar.  

Oh, you are a fool, Jenny, I thought to myself...

___

If you read through all this, thank you. Hope it entertained you somehow. Spent long enough writing this that I wanted to put it out somewhere, seeing as it got no response at all on r/WritingPrompts: I guess I took too long writing it and now it’s among many other, probably great takes on this prompt that aren’t among the quicker responses that got upvoted to the top of the comments. It’s just a silly short story, but either way.

[shadow-emerald-gold]

What The Storm Brings: Ch 1 (Loki x Reader)

Had an idea and decided to roll with it. Alternate universe where Asgard is a little fishing town situated alongside a coastline where they once had mermaids.   No warnings really except for a drunk Thor and your name is Miranda. Enjoy! Gif not mine.

“How is it that every time you get drunk there just happens to be a storm?” Loki grumbled, lugging his brother down the street. 

Thor’s feet stumbled whilst his bodied sagged. Every part of him screamed ‘bed time’ except for the the cocky grin plastered across his face, stretching his cheeks. They held their jackets over their heads in hopes of shielding their eyes from the pelting rain though the elder brother didn’t seem to care. The Winter, that kept time very well, often brought about a raging hell of a storm on the first day of the colder season to celebrate its arrival. The small fishing town of Asgard, situated along the coast line of the Golden Cove, had gained a strong immunity to the battering winds and booming thunder or rather it’s people resisted the weather. The founders built houses made from sheer will power to withstand absolutely anything that stood in their way. Waves, storms and mists that brought about frightening creatures failed to take down the old town. “That’s because I am,” Thor burped, the taste of beer and peanuts flooded his mouth, “the God of Thunder, brother. The storm bends to my will.” Loki merely rolled his eyes, avoiding a large puddle whilst his drunk brother drudged through it as he laughed liked the thunder above. Lightening struck the horizon like the crack of a whip against a slave’s back. Boats were rocked by the ever growing waves that crawled up the shore and dashed fish against the sharp rocks. “And you left your will at the bar,” Loki quipped. Their mother was going to be pissed or even beyond that if it was humanly possible. Frigga gave her youngest son the job of keeping Thor in check although he often failed at his task. Pints of beer would be swallowed as if it was water and the fisherman would be prancing about the pub cussing, cursing and singing about his great catches during his lifetime. It was when he began to claim that he was once kissed by a mermaid at the age of fifteen was when people began to listen. Eager ears would take in every single one of his slurred words before Thor finally sounded utterly ridiculous and Loki called it a night. Though he never admitted it, even if the story wasn’t true, The younger brother would hold some jealousy to his brother due to the intimate moment shared between himself and a beautiful woman of the sea. Loki wanted that. “You know Mother is going to use us as bait when she sees you,” Loki yelled against the howling wind as they began their ascent to the top of The Pike. Young legs hulled their bodies up the cliff along a muddy dirt track though the winds attempted to blow them away. “Then I might just be able to draw in more mermaids for the family business,” Thor garbled as he pasted back some of his blonde hair from his eyes. It only flew back out and slapped him in the face as their house came into view. A small thing but big enough for the family of four. At last, Loki felt the wooden door and gripped the handle. With a single tug both brothers landed inside, Thor falling to the floor in a heap whilst the other stepped inside with all the grace of peacock. “We’re home!” Loki called into the house, shutting out the storm. “Thank Valhalla. I was worried sick about the both of you. Do you have any idea what you two put me through?” Frigga marched into the room, arms crossed with a glare before going to help her eldest off the wooden planks. “Sorry Mother,” they both chanted in unison. “And on the first day of Winter. You should know better. You have no idea what these storms can bring.” Thor mumbled something as Loki removed his coat. He often did wonder what the waves could deliver.

The Golden Coast was not a safe haven during such weather. Below the tide lied a vast array of pointed rocks, sharp and edged for killing, that acted as a maze for boats wishing to enter out or into the area. That is what the people got instead of a wondrous reef. The townsfolk got struggles. Many ships and fishing boats had been ship wrecked along the coast, wooden masts or planks jutting out from the waters surface served as a reminder to those crossing above the death trap. The Pike didn’t make anything easier either. A large cliff that crumbled stuck out over the water, the dark rock often hidden to ships in the night and blocked the lights in the town. Over time, it had claimed many victims in its vicinity. Rumours of ghosts had spread like wildfire when the deaths began to stack up and the bodies continued to sink. It was then that Odin decided to claim the cliff as his and raised a shack upon it. The area was too dangerous to build a lighthouse on so it was often his job to ensure that some form of light could be seen from the ocean, whether it be a candle when the power was out or a torch in the window. The casualties needed to end. However, this didn’t help those below the waves, swamped in miasmic blackness. Miranda was whipped against the currents of the depths below, spiralling her through sand and seaweed. She had lost track of where she was or even which way was up or down. The sea was cold here, almost freezing, and it bit at her pale soft skin- hungry for flesh. Her body was dragged lazily against the rocks, echoes of pain shot through the water as she was torn apart at the seams. The mermaid was doing her best to recover, forsaking her seaweed bag filled with maps and findings. Her life’s work was now sinking to God knows where. Her world was no more as the waves swept her up and scraped her across the bottom of The Pike. Flesh began to bleed crimson red as her bones shattered from the force. Miranda wailed but it went unheard as her tail was now rendered useless. Tears fled down her cheeks as she was grabbed once more and hurled against the rocks. How could the ocean be so cruel? At long last, with her body flailed against sharp edges, did the mermaid’s purple eyes take one last glimpse of the place she was in, what she thought to be her grave. The above world working in tandem to kill her for fun.

Dawn arrived at last and with it peace. Not a single grey cloud littered the sky as seagulls hungrily dove into the water for surfaced fish. Minor repairs had already began to be fixed as husbands and sons clambered onto roofs with tools, creating the percussive rhythm of the morning. Thor snored loudly in his bed to add his part whilst Loki stood at the kitchen window, silently admiring the horizon- a cup of coffee in hand and a jam biscuit in the other. He often wondered how the town survived. He was even surprised they survived at all last night during the walk home. However, the tempest had passed just as quickly as it arrived. The ocean looked as beckoning as ever, crisps reflections of light amongst a blue crystal as the waves swayed like hand motions to draw him near. He couldn’t wait to get out there again. The pulls would be massive if the gulls didn’t get to the fish first. “Do you think any mermaids would have been caught in the storm?” His Mother placed a hand on his back as she too admired the view. With that, her son took another sip of his black coffee and smiled as she adjusted the small floral curtains bordering the window. “If so it would be great for the business. Mermaid hair and tail is said to go for a fortune nowadays.” That earned him a sharp slap across the arm which jolted him from his perfect world. Loki’s biscuit fell from his fingers as his coffee spilled out over his cheeks. He whined, wiping away the spillage and retrieving his less than desirable breakfast. “I thought I raised you better!” “I was only joking, Mother.” “A life is not to be taken so lightly.” Every jest had to turned into a lecture. The son continued to smile anyway eating the last of his biscuit and turned away from the window. “If I find a mermaid I will help her back into the ocean. This I swear,” Loki promised whole heartedly, placing down his mug in the sink and heading to the front door. “Thank you. Such beautiful creatures are so unnecessarily killed by poachers.” The young man nodded with a look of sympathy before saying goodbye to his father and headed out into the cold morning air for a brisk walk to analyse the damage to The Pike.

Though the waves had calmed, Loki still had to be careful against the rocks at the base. Algae and moss had begun to spread across the hard surface as he stepped closer to the towering cliff. He noticed some erosion had occurred but nothing too serious or worrying. I few boulders had broken off from their original position allowing a small stone path to be seen at low tide. The water still grappled with the edge but with some careful footing it looked possible to pass across. That was new. Loki watched as the waves burst against the rocks, curious of this new secret his home had hidden so well. He should go back and get help if he was to attempt something like this. This before him was a risk as claws seemed ready to pounce. Perhaps there was something unknown in there. Perhaps there was more to the Golden Cove. Slowly, he stepped closer to the enticing entrance, his fingers gripping the cliff as he shoved himself against the side, attempting to not fall in. He could feel the water move below his feet, soaking his shoes and, hatefully, his socks. As Loki rounded the corner, a gasp left his lips as a cave had been exposed to a new dawn. Small waves broke across the cracks in the ground and conducted an orchestra of ocean echoes and songs. Streams of light flew through the air and highlighted the smooth walls of the cave. It had been here for sometime, Loki concluded, just never before seen. Then, amongst the ocean music came a wail of pain that threw the symphony off- out of tune and harsh. For a moment, the young man assumed he must have heard something before the cry came again. With cautious steps, he walked closer to the shallows and peered over the rocks into a small pool of water. Loki froze as his brain attempted to process the absurd situation he had suddenly stumbled upon. In his sights was a beautiful young woman with long, golden tresses that had knotted from the meddling fingers of the water. Her chest heaved up and down as she continued to struggled against the rocks that dug into her tail, tearing the intricate pearl-esque scales from her. A mermaid. A real mermaid! The storm had brought such wonder to his shore. Awkwardly, Loki’s mind kicked back into gear as his lips blabbered out words. “May I be of some assistance?” It was her turn to freeze as the icy waves sloshed over her once more. Purple met light blue as they both stared straight into each other’s eyes. Miranda quaked in fear.