#someone get them a room for tHE LOVE OF GOD

[lavenderprose]

Thank you God and also Jesus for giving Emmrich the most rizz of any character in this game. It would have been so easy to make the goth academic fifty-year-old the butt of every 'awkward loser' joke that anyone even slightly to the wrong side of nerdy has ever heard. Instead he's a fucking beacon of game in a sea of thirty somethings with crippling social issues. Neve says 'I love you' like someone is forcing her to do it at gunpoint, Davrin does nothing but hookups because he's decided he's constantly seven seconds away from death, Harding is repressed as fuck, and don't even get me STARTED on Lucanis. My man has cried through every orgasm he's ever had.

Meanwhile Emmrich's making wisps dance for Rook and taking them on romantic cemetery dates and making tender love to them in a COFFIN. He KNOWS Rook is into him and he immediately lets them know it. He's fun and funny because he likes dead things and books a bit too much but he can also look at you from across the room and stroke a finger over his mustache and you KNOW where you'll be sitting at the end of the night. Unambiguously this man fucks. Thank you for my life Sylvia Feketekuty.

[perpetuallyfive]

God, I'm so happy with what they did with Maddie Nolen.

I'm sure there will be plenty of people mad because obviously there was a weird backlash over a character who has sex with one half a ship, so I'm sure some people worry this will lead those people to feel justified in their initial response.

But ignoring people who can't emotionally regulate for a second, because those childish impulses aren't worth dictating the fun things a narrative can do: Maddie is SO INTERESTING as a character and she fills in a lot of the questions people seemed to have about the rest of the season.

Consider for a moment that it wasn't Caitlyn who convinced Vi to be an Enforcer. It was Maddie.

I know that some people took this line to be about Zaunites, a sort of obvious connection to the very racist idea of "one of the good ones," but since Maddie is talking about Marcus and his betrayal of the Enforcers just before this, I'm pretty sure her framing here is something else. The point she's making is specifically targeted at Vi's own beliefs and weaknesses, her desire to protect. That seems clear to me now with all we know about Maddie's capacity for manipulation.

She's not saying, "You're good, for a poor."

She's saying, "Wow, I agree with you, the Enforcers are really bad; it's so upsetting. I think you might be the only one who can change it, but only if you join us." This is what convinces Vi to do something she never thought she would.

Well, this and the fact that Caitlyn believes in her so much which, again, is information she gets fed to her directly from Maddie. It even seems like Maddie seeks her out just to say this, which on first viewing felt oddly convenient. Wow, Vi just happens to meet this naive girl who just happens to say exactly what she needs to hear to do something so out of character.

Except obviously none of it was coincidence. Everyone already knew how much Vi meant to Caitlyn and getting Caitlyn under control would require either controlling Vi or removing her from the equation. This was a push in that direction.

Then there's her more obvious role as the spy in Caitlyn's bed, there to reassure her that the Noxians are only trying to keep all of them safe. Then when Caitlyn expresses larger doubts, she's immediately ready to lay out an alternative. You could just give up, Maddie seems to whisper gently in her ear. Just reestablish things as they were before.

But she knows Caitlyn isn't going to go for that. She's not going to go back to the council as it was, because it's only going to remind her of the empty place her mother left behind. Maddie knows that Caitlyn isn't going to take this offer, which is precisely why she suggests it. She frames quitting as the only clear alternative to going along with everything Ambessa wants because she knows that Caitlyn will refuse, which leads her right back into alignment with Ambessa. She makes continued obedience into an active choice that Caitlyn affirms she's making.

Even Maddie's comments that suggest direct opposition to Ambessa — "you're our leader... I follow you" — are designed to frame herself and her true leader in direct opposition, just as Ambessa's own warning about entanglements is there to further that point. They both make a point of reminding Caitlyn that they are her true ally, isolating her further from anyone who isn't the devil and (other) devil on her shoulders.

This way Maddie and Ambessa can both tug at Caitlyn, pulling in what feels to her like opposite directions, all so that she lands precisely where they wanted her all along but with the illusion of active agency.

And look, I'm not saying my read on her is gospel, because I think they intentionally gave us enough room to really speculate and wonder about her, someone who could have been just a background nothing character but ends up being such a huge part of the second season. That's so interesting!

I especially love that she comes across as really naive and innocent, just some poor little thing swept up in the fervor, when in reality she's a true believer who has been manipulating things to go her way from the start.

[martiniblues]

JUNO , spencer reid

pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader

synopsis while babysitting henry for jj, spencer’s seeming disinterest with children starts to shift. this makes your mind wonder into unfamiliar territory you and spencer hadn’t spoken of yet: kids.

genre talks of pregnancy and children (duh), very suggestive towards the end but no smut, this is very self indulgent since i can’t get this song or spencer off my mind so here you go lol.

wc 2k?? (i got a little carried away)

“sorry for this being so last minute!" jj scrambled, passing henry over to you along with his diaper bag. the blonde ran a hand through her short hair, adjusting from where the two-year-old played with it upon their arrival. 

“it’s all good, seriously. you know how much i love babysitting this cute thing.” you tickled henry’s side, making him squirm. 

jj’s eyes averted to the figure behind you, pursing her lips. “you sure he’s okay with this?” you turned your head, noticing spencer trying to look at the two of you without being noticed. 

it’s not that spencer didn’t like kids; it’s just hard to know how to talk to them when you were a child genius. 

you turned back to jj, attempting to ease her worry. “he’ll come around to it.” you shrugged, knowing that spencer would either sit and observe or fully engage. no in between.

after bidding your goodbyes, you walked over to spencer, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “so what should we do, little man?” you perched henry in your lap, resting your feet on the coffee table so he could sit against your perched thighs. 

spencer looked at you as if he were the “little man” in question. henry just babbled, throwing his arms around as you cooed. “what do we do with him?” spencer asked, leaning closer into your shoulder to inspect the baby in your lap. 

you laughed at his seriousness, turning to look at your boyfriend. “have you never been around a baby in your life or something?” you teased, lifting henry so he was closer to you both.

“did you know that babies are born with about seventy reflexes? that’s why when you place a baby on a surface to stand, they automatically start doing a stepping motion.” he spoke, watching henry kick his legs as you stood him on your lap. you looked over at him quizzically. “for someone who’s so awkward around babies, you sure do know a lot about them.” 

spencer flushed slightly, “i just haven’t had the chance to be around any until now.” he nudges your shoulder before crossing his arms. 

“well, here’s your chance.” you held henry out to spencer, which made him squirm and mumble yet again. “hold him while i go bring his bag in here.” 

he hesitated, looking between you and the baby as if this were a test. yet, despite the nervousness, he reached out, mimicking your position earlier. when you were content with how henry laid on spencer’s legs, you walked out of the room.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposely take your time collecting his things, wanting spencer to have some alone time with henry. finally satisfied with your departure, you peaked your head into the room, nearly melting at the sight. 

the once stiff and nervous spencer you had left with henry was now replaced with a content, smiling one. his voice went up a few pitches as he responded to henry’s nonsense. “oh wow, really?” his lips were pulled into a smile as he played with him, letting henry’s small hand encase his slender fingers. 

you couldn’t help but let your head wander; how could you not? sure you thought about a future with spencer. a future where you were married and maybe with kids, but you had never brought it up being too nervous to scare spencer off.

but now watching him light up with henry in his lap, you wanted nothing more than for your daydreams to become reality. 

“someone wants you back in here, i think.” you snapped out of your daze, focusing on the two sets of eyes staring at you. both holding the same smiles and wide eyes. 

god, you swore you felt your ovaries jump.

“i see that you two are getting along now.” you placed henry’s diaper bag on the table, sitting yourself on the ground before laying out his blanket and a few toys. spencer joined you, placing henry on his stomach, then laid beside you, mirroring the baby’s position. 

“who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?” you laughed, in awe of how much spencer had adjusted to the small being in just a matter of minutes.

he looked up at you as he shook a little plushie in front of henry’s face. “sorry to disappoint, but this is still your boyfriend,” spencer quipped before you pushed his head jokingly, messing up his hair in the process. 

the sound of high-pitched squeals took both of your attentions away from one another. there henry lay, clapping his hands in favor of you and spencer’s playful fighting. 

“yeah, you like when i show him who’s boss, huh?” you caressed the soft skin of henry’s cheek, making him giggle. spencer sighed, “come on, man, i thought we were really becoming friends” he exasperated, laying his head in his hands dramatically.

this only brought more squeals from the baby, making your cheeks almost grow sore from how hard you were smiling. 

“awe spence, it’s okay.” you egged on your act by petting his hair back into place. this caused your boyfriend to lift his head; a big pout on his lips made yours perk up. 

with your attention being taken away from henry by spencer’s rare expression, you hadn’t noticed the stuffed animal caught between the baby’s hands. before you could do anything, the small bear was chucked into spencer’s face, causing an uproar of noises from henry.

“i’m starting to question this whole babysitting thing.” spencer winced, looking at you as you laughed along with henry. 

 

despite the teasing from earlier, spencer continued to be enamored with henry. him even insisting he help feed and change him when time came.

the whole ordeal feeling so domestic, apart of you wished jj could have spent a couple more days for her and will in favor of you seeing spencer like this for longer.

“thank you, again for taking care of him.” jj propped her hip against the counter as she fumbled for her phone out of her purse.

“of course, it really was no problem.” you turned at the sound of spencer’s soft voice, thanking henry for “helping” him clean.

“honestly, i think someone enjoyed this a bit more than we thought.” you gestured at spencer as he settled henry on his hip, the baby grasping onto his button-up shirt. 

your whole body ran hot at sight. spencer looked really good as a pretend dad. 

“no kidding, the team is going to flip when i show them the pictures you took of them.” she glanced at her phone, noting the off-guard photos you stole of spencer and henry. 

one was of him feeding him as he walked around the living room, another of him explaining some of the books organized on his shelves in a very formal fashion despite henry’s lack of knowledge, and finally one of them eye-to-eye playing on the floor with various toys. 

your heart swelled looking back at them, the questions you had been so careful not to ask begging to be verbalized. 

before you could sink any further, spencer came over, handing jj henry and his bag almost reluctantly. noticing the time, jj was quick to leave in order to keep the baby’s sleeping schedule on track but thanked you guys repeatedly before finally closing the door. 

clicking the lock shut, you mentally prepared yourself for the words about to come out of your mouth. 

“you had more fun than you bargained for, didn’t you?” you met spencer on the couch, him reaching out to pull your legs over his, making your heart leap. 

“i did, actually.” spencer began smoothing his hands up and down your calf before continuing. “honestly when you mentioned henry coming over, i was a little- i don’t know scared? i just didn’t want to disappoint him or you.” he bit his lip like he was stopping himself from letting the whole truth out. 

“oh spence, you were perfect. honestly, i’m very proud of you.” you reached out, caressing the side of his face, causing him to look at you. 

he noticed your wondering eyes, waiting for you to continue. “actually i um…” you shifted pulling your legs under yourself so you could sit up. 

breathing in deeply, you continued, “today kind of got me thinking about us and our future.” spencer was looking at you with such admiration that you had fixed your gaze on your hands.

“i know we haven’t really brought it up before, but seeing you and henry today had me-“ 

before you could finish, spencer’s lips were pressed against yours, resulting in a shocked gasp from you. he kissed you, mumbling words each time his lips parted to take yours in again. 

“i want that, i really do.” he breathed, finally separating from you for just a moment. 

“you want what, spence?” you were in shock, to be honest, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it word for word. 

without another word, he positioned you in his lap, legs straddling his own. “i want a family with you. i want a sliver of what we had today to become ours one day.” his eyes didn’t break from yours, his pupils blown wide and sparkly.

for the thousandth time that day, you had to bite back a smile. “you mean that?” you questioned, one hand coming to comb through his hair and the other resting on his neck. 

he kissed your cheek, forehead, nose, and finally your lips before he spoke. “every single one. i mean, one of you is cute.” he cupped your cheek as he spoke. “but two though? that’s something.” he finished, smirking at you. 

you couldn’t contain your happiness, crashing his lips to yours again feverishly. even though you knew the both of you were in no place to have a kid now, there was no harm in playing with the fantasy for now. 

even if the real thing wouldn’t come to be for a good few years.

spencer pulled you flush against him, one his hands leaving your hips to trail up your spine and settle onto the back of your neck. a moan slipped past your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. 

you pulled on his shirt, hinting at where this was going as if it weren’t obvious to the man beneath you. he looked up at you, kissing you once more before dragging you to your shared bed. 

your blouse and shorts were off before your back hit the sheets, spencer still standing ahead of you unbuttoning his work shirt. 

you sat up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to take over. after each undone button, you kissed his skin, making him gasp as his fingers raked through your hair. 

pulling his shirt all the way off, you made your way to his pants, pulling him closer by his belt loop. you bit your lip, noticing the gears turning in his head.

“you know statistics say missionary or doggy are the best positions to get pregnant in.” spencer let out in shallow breaths as his belt clinked on the floor. 

“oh, yeah and why is that genius?” you leaned back on your elbows while spencer finished removing himself of his pants. he took you in, the tiny pink bow on your underwear made spencer rethink his crude response. 

“deeper penetration,” he said almost too smoothly, making you laugh. it was hard to take statistics seriously when you were both nearly naked. 

before he could settle above you, you shimmied up the bed. ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you positioned yourself on your hands. looking over your shoulder, you saw the way spencer’s eyes widened in shock.

it’s not that you and spencer had never had sex; it was just very vanilla. with this new-found desire, though, that switch flipped. 

“have you ever tried this one?”

my first spencer fic omg. lowk crazy because i’ve been obsessed with this man since the ripe age of 12 but here we are. will probably be writing a lot more of him since im rewatching cm at the moment so stay tuned! request box is always open <333

[aplaceinme]

“I’m just saying… there’s a reason why people say ‘three times it’s a charm’ Evan.”

“And I’m just saying I don’t want to risk it, Tommy,” Evan huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“C’mon, what could possibly happen?” Tommy insists. 

“Hmmm…let me think… oh, yeah, I got it! Given our track record, we break up for good,” Evan says exasperated. 

“That won’t happen again, Evan. We’ve talked things out. Everything has been laid out on the table. We are better than ever,” Tommy says softly, walking up to Evan and tenderly cupping his cheeks, “We are good! Nothing bad will happen, I promise.” 

Evan tries to resist, his pout really pronounced but he can’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Fine! Fine! We will go and have dinner at Miceli’s again,” Evan relents, throwing his arms up in the air. “But if things go south again, it will be all your fault, ok?” 

Tommy leans in and kisses him softly, letting the kiss linger a little. “Ok, if something happens, it will be my fault.”

Evan goes to his bedroom to change his clothes, all the while angrily muttering, “Thousand of places in L.A. to go but no! We have to go back to that place… all because the pizza is good… fuck that place.”

“Did you say something?” Tommy asks, trying not to laugh at Evan’s adorableness. 

“Nothing… except… We are not getting spumoni, Tommy!” Evan yells from his bedroom.

Head thrown back in laughter, Tommy sits down in one of the barstools to wait for him to be finished. “Fine but, again, everything will be alright, love.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that! But you know what else people say? Famous last words! That’s what they say,” Evan says before closing the bathroom room. 

Nodding, Tommy quietly says under his breath as if trying to convince himself, “It will be alright.” 

—

“Will you stop muttering? We are here, and everything has been ok so far, right?” 

“Yeah, so far,” Evan says stubbornly. At Tommy’s raised eyebrow, his shoulders relax. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right! Everything is fine. We are together and everything is fine.”

Tommy holds Evan’s hand across the table and intertwines their fingers. “Exactly.” 

“I’m just glad we aren’t going to the movies after this. I think they also bring bad luck to us,” Evan teases, though he also seems to be serious. 

Wanting to tease him back, Tommy says, “Actually, I saw that they are playing this movie that I wanted to check out…”

“Do not even think about it! Not tonight at least,” Evan points at Tommy seriously. 

“Alright, alright, no movies tonight,” Tommy laughs. “We will just go straight to my place then… find something else to entertain us with.” 

“I’m sure we will,” Evan says with a smirk. 

“Oh my God! I think he’s choking! Somebody help us!” 

Tommy and Evan look over at the table from where the scream came and, after sharing a small glance and a nod, they get up and run over. 

“Move over, make room, make room, we are firefighters,” Evan says loudly, reaching the patient first. 

As Evan starts doing the Heimlich maneuver, Tommy reassures the family and makes sure they give Evan room to work. 

After a couple of agonizing seconds, the man spits out the food and everyone at the restaurant releases a breath of relief and they start to clap.  

Tommy moves over and helps Evan to sit the man down as they start to assess him, asking him if he is feeling alright or if he would rather they call an ambulance. 

Once the man reassures them that he is ok and thanks Evan profusely, they start to walk back to their table. 

“Glad that turned out o-” Evan starts to say but a scream interrupts him. 

“What now?” Tommy asks. 

“Fire in the kitchen!” Someone screams. 

It takes two seconds for chaos to reign. People start to scream and run desperately, pushing tables, chairs, and everything out of their way. 

While Evan calls 911 and starts helping people out of the restaurant, Tommy runs up to the kitchen.

Grabbing a fire extinguisher, Tommy tries to put the fire out, but it’s not enough. The fire is spreading fast, so he just makes sure that no one else is inside the kitchen and then runs outside. 

“Tommy, Tommy,” Evan calls to him and hugs him as soon as he is within reach. 

“Everyone out?” Tommy asks him, quickly looking Evan over to make sure he isn’t hurt. 

“Yeah, I got everyone out and the firefighters should be here any minute now.” 

“Good, good, that’s good!” Tommy says in relief, his adrenaline starting to recede. 

—

Tommy and Evan are standing a few meters away from the restaurant, watching as station 56 put the fire out. The fire spread out so much that the restaurant is absolutely destroyed, Tommy doubts the owners could salvage anything from inside. 

“What is it? I can see you looking at me,” Tommy asks, turning to look at Evan. 

Evan gestures wildly at the restaurant and looks at him incredulously. 

“What?” Tommy plays dumb. 

“What? What?” Evan yelps. “Oh, I don’t know… maybe the fact that the restaurant is literally destroyed. Third’s time a charm, my ass!” 

“Technically, I was right, Evan.” 

“Wha- How?” Evan sputters. 

“Well, nothing bad happened to us. We are ok, there hasn’t been any misunderstanding, no one has confessed anything from their past… we are ok, just like I said we will be,” Tommy reasons.

Evan shakes his head and chuckles, “I can’t believe you! You’re so…” 

“Evan…” Tommy starts but gets interrupted. 

“I love you,” Evan says. 

Tommy does a double take, not expecting that. “What?”

“I love you,” Evan repeats, shrugging his shoulders. 

“This is the first time you’re saying that,” Tommy says, bewildered. 

“I know.” 

“I… I- I…” Tommy looks around them, in disbelief that Evan could love him. 

“You don’t have to say it if you do-”

“I love you too. Of course, I love you,” Tommy tells him quickly, not wanting Evan to doubt it for even one second. 

“Yeah?” Evan beams at him. 

“Yes,” Tommy nods and leans in to kiss him, not caring about the fire, firefighters, bystanders, or anything else. 

Once they part for air, Tommy asks him, “Should we get going? They seem to have everything under control.” 

Evan nods, and they slowly start to walk to where Tommy had parked his truck, with Tommy’s arm around Evan’s waist. 

“Since no one got hurt, I feel ok with admitting that I’m kinda happy that the restaurant went up in flames,” Evan whispers as if it is a secret. 

Tommy chuckles, “Yeah, me too.” 

When they are near the truck, Tommy jokes, “So, what about that movie then?” 

Evan playfully hits him on the shoulder but laughs. “I believe someone said something about finding something to entertained us with at their place?”

“Let’s go then,” Tommy says with a smirk, walking faster towards his truck. 

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis and Spite's reaction to Rook being trapped in the Regret prison, or, if someone already asked that, romanced Lucanis having to tell Viago (massive older brother vibes) that Crow!Rook is stuck in the Regret prison

Standing in the entrance of Rook's room, Lucanis closes his eyes.

For a moment, he swears he feels her right there— sitting on the couch, curled over her notebook making a sketch of something she couldn't get out of her head.

The room still smells of cinnamon spice from the incense she always had burning on the far dresser. Her clothes would be everywhere, along with loose notes and bits of potion ingredients scattered about.The fade window of swimming fish would remind him of the Ossuary like it always did— sending a sour storm of adrenaline straight to his chest. Only by Rook's sweet face murmuring soft reassurances would he return to the present, back in her presence.

The moment passes and he knows what he will see when he opens his eyes. Nothing is as it should be.

Rook is gone. Gone. Betrayed by Solas.

Spite bristles along his spine at the thought. Lucanis clenches a fist as he battles the demon's anger as well as his own. For once, they were both equally powerless to rescue her.

We find her. We find Rook.

Spite was angry more than anything else, bleeding into Lucanis' every thought. He wanted revenge, action… something to stab and kill and as far as the demon was concerned the team was doing nothing at all.

But they had no choice, so all they could do was bide their time, recoup their resources and figure out a plan to find Rook.

—

In the fleeting moments he's able to close his eyes and sleep, he still sees the flash of light in his dreams. A bright flash, Rook's horrified voice shouting his name, and then nothing. It was unnerving, seeing it over and over again. Spite seemed almost as incapacitated by the dreams as Lucanis was.

Emmrich once said spirits could experience intense mood shifts during stress, perhaps that was the reason why he kept bringing Lucanis' sleeping body to Rook's room. To feel better.

She always made things better.

Ever since she disappeared, everything around them had dampened. Colors, taste… all of it was muffled without her around. Was she even alive? How could they know? They killed one god, and faced two more. Who could say she hadn’t been vaporized by Solas?

No. I feel her.

“You feel her because this is her room, Spite. You don't know that she lives.”

You give up?

"Never. Not until I see her body."

There's a feeling of approval. Never again lose what's ours.

He should leave her room, if he plans to get anything done today. He needs to travel to Treviso still, update Teia and Viago about Rook. He'd already waited a week too long. He knows the conversation might end up with Viago trying to kill him, but they needed to know. They were her only other family, after all. As he turns to go, he spots a loose piece of paper peeking out from under the couch. Spite urges him to pick it up, stronger than ever.

It's a sketch of himself, outlined in purple. Underneath, the words vhenan as well as the following:

“Say it, before it's too late.”

He thinks to the night before she disappeared, how she'd come for their usual evening drink but was preoccupied. Nervous. Surely she was just anxious about the next day's events, but instead….

She loves him.

He told her not to make a promise she couldn't keep, yet here he was having broken the last half of his. He didn't keep her safe that day.

Should she not return, every blighted creature would feel his blade.

[zepskies]

And I'm SO happy you're back, my lovely Wayne!! Of course, you decide to spoil me with this review the minute you dip back into this hellsite. 😘

(yesss, and don't think I didn't see that chapter you dropped of Polaris! When I get back from my vacay I will be diving into that. I need to know what happens next with our favorite cowboy sheriff 🤠)

I'm very glad and grateful you made the time to start ESC! I had so much fun figuring out Russell Shaw and the Tracker cast -- especially with all them Deanisms. 😏

Diving into the rest of your awesome comments below!! 💕

First of, Professor Goldstein is a piece of work... 😒 I wouldn't blame her for spitting into his coffee every time he calls her sweetheart. But Russell, I see you. She's gonna be so annoyed with him 😂

Oh he's a piece of something, all right. 🙄 She could def pull a Rachel on his ass. And Russell...lmao, you already saw where he's heading with this. 😂

Ooooh, another professor character paired with some rugged Mountain Man 😏 I'm addicted to those couples. She's all business up front, and he's all party in the back (seat of his Chevelle) 🤪

LOLL the way it didn't even occur to me when I was writing this (at first) that I was writing another professor paired with a law enforcement (sort of, in Russell's case), man of action type, like in Take Me Home with Beau Arlen. 😝 I came at it with the thought of, "what if she was Dory's best friend, and they worked together at the university?" I must have a thing for writing nerds who get the rugged, sexy Mountain Man. Not at all fulfilling a personal fantasy.

UGH. The nerve!!!!! Massage therapist????? How about I step on your back with my high heels, bro... And then to go on about his trip and parasailing... Guess it's true. Ignorant people are happier 😂

Fuck YES, I'd be high-stepping up and down his spine fr. 🤣 Ignorance is bliss, I guess? 🤷🏽‍♀️

Or why are campuses so big in general? My university actually had several faculties strewn throughout the city. Sometimes it took an hour and several subway rides to get to your next lecture 😅

Oooh my God, now THAT's crazy! A whole subway ride(s)?? I've worked/gone to school on some big campuses, but that takes the cake. I guess you get your daily workout one way or another lol!

Please tell me Russell's in the room when she said that 😄🤞

Big YEP lmfaoo, and he likes her already because of it. 😂

Ooooh, right! I wonder how much she knows about the Shaws. Not something that comes casually up in the cafetaria I imagine 😅

No it would not, lmfao! But that is something that will be explored (how much she knows) in the chapters to come, for sure!

Love this whole exchange. You're making my dreams come true, babe 😘

Ahaha I had to do the little callback to sriracha fries (and figure out how tf to spell sriracha, first of all. 😂)

I keep thinking he probably has that look now because he was in the army for so long. Young Russell was pretty much young Dean Winchester in a uniform (hello there, soldier 😏)

Ooh that's SUCH a good point (and yumm). It's making me hope that we get a flashback of Russell in his military days someday in Tracker.

Well... It's a toss-up, I'd say 😆

Oh, very much a toss up/personal preference there lmao. I've loved Justin Hartley since his Smallville days as Green Arrow. 😆 But in this case, I felt like Russell would try to claim top billing there loll.

In. His. Car 🚩🚩🚩😂 If any strange man said that to you... 🚩🤣

Honestly, it's amazing how many red flags you ignore when someone's charming and handsome. 🤣🤣🤣

Well, at least, Colter has an Airstream 😅🤷‍♀️

Ha!! True, it's beating out Russell's crusty motel of the week by far, I'd say.

He is a professional flirt. Kind eyes...

Oh don't worry, we're getting to that callback. 😏

Dear God, he does not stop, does he? 😆 (On the show, I loved his persistence with Reenie too, even though it was mainly just to annoy Colter. But you captured him beautifully here with this sort of charm 🥰) PS: schmutz, schlep... I love the sprinkles of Yiddish in this 🤓

In fact, he does not! lmfao That was what I loved about it too -- like maybe half of him is serious, and the other half just wants to needle Colter. 🤣

Aw I'm glad you caught that! lol I'm not Jewish, but for some reason it just felt right for these characters. 💜

STOP IT! And he upgraded too!!! 🤣

He absolutely did!! And this time, it actually worked! 🤣🤣

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Gah, this was fabulous! I'm hooked! 😍👏 Are they gonna stay casual? Something about her brooding and reluctance tells me it's not usually her style? Which means, will he eventually settle? Get out of the dangerous hitman-nomad life?

Ooh my goodness, I'm so glad to hear that, friend! You're right. I don't think I full on state it, but "casual" is typically not her style. Also, Russell is Dory's brother, so she doesn't want there to be any weirdness or awkwardness between them if something happened or fell out between the reader and Russell.

She already knows his relationship with Dory is kind of fragile, in that they're still in that "reconnecting" phase. You'll see more of that dynamic and her thoughts in Part 2, but the rest of your questions will most definitely be explored throughout this little series. 😏

And then there's the stories about their respective families. We already know some about Russell's. How is she gonna react if she learns everything? And there's something odd about her private life as well. Can't wait to dive into that bombshell 😂

There's a lot to unpack there, right? There's a great deal that she already knows through Dory, and some things that are going to be revealed along the way...

Zep, my sweet genius Alex, you've outdone yourself once again. Bravo!!! 👏👏👏

You make me blush!! Thank you so much. 😭🥰 If you like this chapter, then I think you're going to enjoy the rest of the series. I hope it's as fun for you to read as it was for me to write!! 💕💕

A Line and a Half

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.

AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…

You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.

Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk. 

“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.

Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.

“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor. 

Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.

“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.

“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”

You quirked a brow. “Do they?”

You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.

Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.

“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.

You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.

Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.

Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.

Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.

Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.

You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.

It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.

She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)

That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.

And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.

“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.

Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.

“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.

“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.

You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.

“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.

“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.

“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.

You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.

You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”

Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.

“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”

You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.

The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.

“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).

“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”

Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.

“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”

A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”

“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”

You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.

It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.

When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.

Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.

Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.

“I’m sure,” you replied.

Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.

“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”

 You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

You shared a telling look with Dory.

“Next time, huh?” you asked.

“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.” 

He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.

She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.

“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”

That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”

“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”

“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.

“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.

Unstable…and lonely. 

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.

He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?

Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.

For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.

After a moment, Russell shook his head.

“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.

“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.

You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad. 

“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.

“It’s all right,” you replied.

“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."

You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.

“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.

“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.

 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.

You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.

As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.

“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”

Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.

It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.

“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.

When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.

“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.

 “Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.

You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.

If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.

He wanted to see more of you before he left town.

“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.

“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.

However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.

“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”

Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.

“Sometime, huh?” you asked.

He smiled back. “Tonight?”

You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.

“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”

“Well, all right,” Russell said.

He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.

Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.

But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.   

“See you tonight,” he said.

AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆

Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.

Next Time in Part 1:

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 4

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Waking up (Y/N)'s head felt fuzzy. Somehow, they felt constricted even though they could move. Looking around, they found themselves in a large room. The bed felt as if it was encasing them. They felt themselves looking for their weapon. Not being able to find it, they get up and start looking around the room.

The room was blank, as if it was a canvas waiting to be painted. It irritated them. 'Where the fuck am I? The last thing I can remember was... oh fuck. Dads gonna be soo pissed! I never got him his drink!'. (Y/N) frantically began looking for a way out realizing they were asked to get something for there dad. They went to the door and found it locked.

Just as they were going to open the other door in the room, the locked door burst open. Bruce Wayne flung himself into the room. "My baby! You're awake! God, what did that monster do to you?" Bruce questioned as he got closer to (Y/N). As soon as he got close enough (Y/N) tripped him and forced him into the ground. "Where am I?! The fuck have you done with my dad?!" (Y/N) yelled. "No need to be hostile kid. We just saved your ass." Jason stated walking into the room. Amused that Bruce had been caught off guard by your violence. Bruce suddenly got out of the hold as (Y/N)s attention shifted to Jason and held their hands behind their back. "You bitch! The fuck are you doing! Let me go!" (Y/N) screamed with struggling in his hold. "No (Y/N) went just got you back and we are going to help you get better." Bruce stated in a firm tone. "I don't need fixing you limp dick son of a bitch! My dad molded me in his image and I'm perfect because of that!" (Y/N) howled. "I think my dear sibling need some alone time." Jason said. Bruce nodded his head and let go of (Y/N) and left the room. "Just so you know (Y/N) because ,even though you are fucked, and I still love you the Joker is dead." Jason professed before he left the room and locked the door.

"No, he's lying. He can't die. He always comes back." (Y/N) whispered and unknowingly started crying. They began to grow themselves around the room, trying to find a way out, and ultimately broke an arm. It took an hour before it eventually healed. Their mental state making it more difficult to heal.

About an hour later, Damian entered the room with a change of clothes. He fought with his sibling for this opportunity to talk with (Y/N) and was going to take advantage of the situation. "Hello, sibling. I have brought you a change of clothes as the ones you are currently wearing are covering in blood and dirt. I hope we can get on better terms during your stay here." Damian spoke calmly, as if he was talking to a terrified animal. "Ah, if it isn't the other basterd child of Bruce Wayne. Tell me how does it feels to know that if your nepotism wasn't taken into account, you would be just another pawn in Al Ghuls game. Stupid and replacable." (Y/N) spoke in a knowing tone. No anger in sight, only a smirk on their face.

They have watched the batfamily for years. They knew all the ways to get under their skin and prod where it hurt most.

Damian's face fell into a look of shock. (Y/N)'s words hurt in a way he had not felt since he first came to the manor. He felt the fear of being useless and replaceable. He dropped the clothes and left the room with a mortified face as (Y/N) started to laugh manically.

After Damian left the room, the Joker seemed to appear before them. As if a god. "My dear child, I am dead now, but soon I will find someone to take over. And when that is over, I will find you, and we will make the bat regret taking you away from me. My darling child." The Joker claimed. (Y/N) find with joy began shaking their head rapidly in agreement. "Of course, dad! They'll never know what hit em!" (Y/N) said and started laughing.

-----------------‐-----------------------------

In the batcave

"Their mental capacity seems to be dwindling. They've begun hallucinating. The best course of action would be to start over. I would recommend you get in contact with Martain Manhunter." Tim told Bruce after watching you on the screen. Tim had been watching you since the moment you were brought home. There was something comforting about knowing exactly where you were at all times, no matter what. "Let's wait another day. We don't know what reproductions there might be for doing this to them. If it would even work. You saw what happened with their arm. Their healing ability could stop it from even working!" Stephanie argued, not wanting to lose anymore of you. A broken you was still a masterpiece in her eyes. It showed everyone your hardships and would be used as a reminder to them about how they affected you and your life. No matter how rough you were, you and she didn't want to lose you again. "We'll wait one more day. If they continue to break down like this, we will have no other choice." Bruce stated. "But for now, we will just have to wait and see"

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

Hey guys, sorry for the wait. College has been kicking my ass and Comp has been making me not want to write anything. Hope you enjoy it! Remember, I am always looking for ways to improve.

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom @chericia @vannessa-boo @resident-cryptid @staarflower @sirenetheblogger @definitely-not-sammie @lovebug-apple

[snurtsnurtcreations]

Been thinking thoughts about a good ol' soulmate au with kyle garrick... hmmmmm

Step counter au where you’ve got a counter that shows how many steps away your soulmate is. And the few times that yours had gotten low were always during some sort of disaster when your safety was a much higher priority than finding your soulmate. You’ve gotta be the unluckiest person ever to have been in the near vicinity of multiple public threats- shootings, bombers, terrorists… or maybe you’re the luckiest person since you always get out of it with minimal damage. Either way, you’ve noted how each time your counter has gone significantly down, so you figure your soulmate must be an emergency responder then or something of the sort. You’ve never really had the chance to figure out who it could be, considering each time the counter went down you were 1) in a crowded area and 2) fearing for your life and trying to get out of the situation. 

It’s just your luck that somehow your place of work gets attacked by terrorists this time. How do you keep getting into these situations? You wonder briefly. And you’re afraid this time you might not be getting out of it- you’re barely holding on to consciousness pressed up into a corner. Everything hurts and you’re not sure if help will get here in time. With hazy eyes you focus on the counter on your arm, and find a small comfort in the numbers flitting back and forth- and then they start going down significantly. Down to double digits, and closing in faster and faster.

Through blurry vision you bring your eyes up as the door is kicked in and in come a team of soldiers armed to the teeth, clearing the room with big guns and bigger bodies. One of them catches your gaze and you vaguely hear him exchanging words with the others, but your head feels like it’s swimming and you can’t be bothered to try to decipher their words through the thick fog in your mind. You look back to your counter- oh. When did that get into single digits? And it’s still going down… you flit your eyes up as one of the soldiers tries to get your attention, crouching down in front of you, swiftly tending to your wound. (oh god he’s gotta be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. How can someone so intimidating all dressed out in military garb have such a tender expression and make you feel so safe?)

“Don’t you worry, love, you’ll be right as rain here in a bit, yeah?” 

All you can think is that this man’s got an angelic voice. “‘Re you my guardian angel?” Your words slur a bit but you get your point across as the man lets out a breathy little chuckle- and oh a sound such as that is simply beautiful. You want to make him laugh and smile again and again forever and ever.

“Let’s just say I’m the closest thing you’ve got to one at the moment, eh?”

[wonhes]

ᝰ RII7E AND HOW THEY ACT WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS

PAIRING: riize x reader

GENRE: fluff, maybe angst if u really squint and tilt ur head and turn ur phone to the side

WARNINGS: none that i can think of

ᥫ᭡ SHOTARO

— stop because I genuinely believe shotaro wouldn't care. but like definitely not in a bad way! he just seems like the type to be so reassured in your relationship. he knows you wouldn't do anything to hurt him and vise versa. if he spots someone flirting with you, he would honestly just find it amusing. because can he really blame them? look at you! he would sit back and watch the scene unfold. I feel like he also wouldn't have an issue sharing you with his members either. like I feel like the boys would go to you for advice and would love having you around and he would love that! he only ever draws the line whenever he's trying to get some alone time with you and his members keep butting in. he wouldn't be super jealous, but he would more so be annoyed with maybe just a tad bit hint of jealousy. I can see him getting up from his spot and rolling his eyes before pushing away his members. he would shake his head at them before mumbling, "go away! my yn, it's my turn." as he shuts the door on their faces. he would turn back to you and let out a big sigh of relief with a playful smile on his face.

ᥫ᭡ EUNSEOK

— guys, eunseok to me seems like the type that gets jealous but is in complete denial about it. he teases you whenever YOU get jealous so he cannot show you that he gets jealous. bc he doesn't get jealous! fr fr! like pft him? eunseok jealous? no way! or at least that's what he keeps telling himself. but god whenever he sees someone is standing a little too close to you for his liking he swears he feels his eye twitch. and you keep smiling at them. why are you smiling? and did you just laugh? why are you laughing? so many thoughts would raise eunseok's head but he would shake them away and tightly grip on to whatever item he was currently holding. you would then spot him, run up to him, and place your arms around him but he would shake you off. he would mumble something along the lines of "go back to your little boyfriend" and you would immediately smirk at his words. seeing your smirk, he would quickly shake his head at you. he's not jealous! he doesn't get jealous! he really doesn't!!

ᥫ᭡ SUNGCHAN

— oh mf doesn't hide it nor does he try to. he trusts you 100% but he doesn't trust others. he seems like the type to never leave you alone in a gathering but if he has to, he would make it so quick. if he has to leave you and he sees someone else talking you up, he would glare at the other person from across the room and quickly come back to you. he would instantly place his hands on your waist and bring you closer to him. he would without a doubt insert himself in y'alls conversation as well. fake laughing along before sending the other person a tight lipped smile before asking, "what are we laughing at?" he makes sure everyone knows that you two are dating. oh and he would definitely kiss you in front of the person that was flirting with you. kinda in a way to tell them to back off without verbally saying it. but if he has to verbally say it, he definitely will. don't test my man. and please, he acts the exact same when you're talking to his members. he simply just doesn't want to share you.

ᥫ᭡ WONBIN

— ... I feel like there's two sides of jealous wonbin. on one hand, he seems like the silent jealous type. like as soon as he sees someone flirting with you, you best believe he's huffing and puffing. he would scoff at the sight and would clench his jaw as he would see the person continue to try and flirt with you but he wouldn't do anything about it. he would just silently stare daggers at them. and on the other hand, he "jokingly" acts like he's jealous but in reality, he's not joking. this side of him only ever comes out when you two are hanging out with his members though. like he always, and I mean always, has to have an arm, a hand or literally be around you when you two are hanging out with the boys. the boys would try and have a conversation with you and there wonbin was placing a quick kiss on your cheek causing you to revert your focus back to him. and that's why he does it. because he doesn't want you focusing too much on them.

ᥫ᭡ SEUNGHAN

— seunghan seems like the jealous type but the type that doesn't get jealous easily you know? he's the type to not care too much when someone is flirting with you but god when he sees you spending a little too much time with one of your friends that's where he draws the line. you two would be on the couch and then you mumble something about having to leave soon to go meet your friend. and seunghan would not be for it at all. he's immediately pouting and shaking his head. and instead of letting you go and telling you to be safe, like any other normal person would, seunghan hugs your figure tightly and places a leg over you to stop you from leaving him. when you giggle and tell him to let go, he immediately says no and continues pouting at you. "wouldn't you rather spend more time with your amazing, awesome, handsome boyfriend?" he would ask, offering you his best puppy dog eyes causing you to giggle and realize what was going on.

ᥫ᭡ SOHEE

— god sohee would get jealous but literally just the pouty jealous kind. he wouldn't know how to act or react to someone flirting with you. he wouldn't know what to say when he feels like you've been hanging out with your one of your friends a bit more either. he would literally just pout. he would be so pouty and often times would overthink things which would cause him to get a tiny bit insecure. all sohee ever wants to do is please you so if he sees someone else flirting with you or if he feels like you're spending more time with one of your friends he would simply sulk. and you knew of this too. so whenever you would see him pouting, you would immediately go up to him and place your lips against his while mumbling a soft "I love you." a wide smile would quickly replace his pout and he would instantly kiss you back before mumbling an "I love you more" and just like that all his worries and insecurities would quickly vanish.

ᥫ᭡ ANTON

— anton gets jealous over the little things but here's the catch, he doesn't actually realize he's jealous until he finds himself catching an attitude about it. you two would be hanging out with his members and he would see you getting a little too close to sohee and anton would immediately start losing it. he would act like if he didn't care but as soon as sohee is standing near him, he would purposely bump into him and offer him a lame ass "sorry" before continuing to walk to god knows where. he also seems like the type that would just completely shut down. the boys would try and get a conversation out of him but anton could quite frankly not care less. it wouldn't be until you would see him actively avoiding the members that you would go up to him and he would mumble out a quick, "what? is sohee busy now?" when you finally catch on to his jealousy, you would playfully ask if he's jealous. laughing you would wait for him to deny it but would be in complete shock when he shyly nods while avoiding your eye contact. ironic that he's tall because at that very moment he would feel so tiny and vulnerable. and silly, god he would feel so silly.

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4776

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@punksyeet @bebesobrielo @aikosilo @hunnidmilly @zillasvilla @fearlesschimera @xbriexx @lov3rla03 @bloodlinesbabe93

@charmed-dreamssss @yana3sworld @partypoison00 @magnificentbouquetmusic @mselenalovebug @skyesthebomb

@reignsboy19 @papi-priest @celesteheartsjey

24.

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tianasworld: can't wait for our big day today 🥹 uceyjucey: ik mama can't wait to see you in your dress walking down the aisle. 🫶🏼 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey 🥹🥹 biancabelairwwe: my bestie is getting marrieddddd!! trinity_fatu: @ biancabelairwwe ikrrrr like im so proud of them. jonathanfatu: Uce is getting married finally uceyjucey: @ jonathanfatu gtfo Uce 😭😭 romanreigns: ♥️ zillafatu: I'm so proud of you cuz @ uceyjucey

Read all comments.

TIANA It was the day I was finally getting married to the love of my life. If someone had told the old me years ago that I would leave a toxic relationship with my ex, move to California with my best friend, and fall in love with a Samoan man, I would have laughed in their face.

Jey and I flew out to Maui, Hawaii, together for our wedding day. Instead of booking a hotel room, we opted for an Airbnb, which turned out to be aesthetically pleasing and beautiful. I also rented a car for us to drive around so we wouldn't have to rely on Ubers or Lyfts.

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: WE ARE OTWWW YOU BETTER GIVE ME A TOUR OF THE AIRBNB trinity_fatu replied to your story: brings back memories honestly I can't wait to see you in your dress girl. MontezFordWWE replied to your story: I'm honestly proud of ya'll man. MrsJackson replied to your story: what a disgrace my son could've took you there to get married if you would've gave him a chance. jonathanfatu replied to your story: sister-in-law getting marriedddd

I rolled my eyes at his mom for still defending her worthless son. But I decided to let it go because I had better things to worry about. Gianna was with her grandma since I didn't want her to get sick or anything. This way, Jey and I could have some alone time during our honeymoon.

I finally made it to the house and parked in the driveway, turning off the car's ignition while grabbing my purse and house keys. Meanwhile, Jey was retrieving our luggage from the trunk. As I unlocked the door, I looked around the house. It was just perfect, exactly as I had imagined it would be. They had given us Hawaiian orchids to wear before we arrived, and I was already in love with them.

I put one in my hair and draped others around my neck, admiring the scenery and watching the waves move back and forth. There was a pool out back as well, and I knew the girls were going to love this.

Jey came in with our luggage and placed it next to the closet by the door before putting it inside. He walked up behind me, wrapped his strong arms around my waist, and spun me around as I squealed.

"Oh my—"

"Oh my God, girl, I can't believe we are here right now!" Jey said as he planted kisses all over my face.

"I know, Papa. I'm so excited about this, our moment together," I replied, holding his hands in mine.

He didn't know I had something planned for our honeymoon after the wedding. There's a private island for couples to have their honeymoons, so I booked it for us without him even knowing.

"What time do you think everyone will be here?"

"I would probably say around the afternoon or evening time before the wedding starts because we have to get everything done before then," I said as he nodded his head.

✧.* Everyone showed up as I was in my room getting my makeup done by Bianca, and Trinity was curling my hair with the curling iron that she had brought from home.

While they were doing that, we heard the door knocking. I told them to come in without even knowing who the person was, and that's when I heard the voice. It was my mother and father coming in to see me.

"Papa! Mama! You made it," I said excitedly, giving them both a tight hug without messing up my makeup.

"We couldn't miss out on your big day, Tink. You look so beautiful in your dress," my mother said, tears forming in her eyes.

Not wanting to mess up my makeup I fanned my eyes out so that I wouldn't cry, Trinity gave my mother a tissue as she patted underneath her eyelid getting the wet tears out.

"We are so proud of you Tink, you have overcome many obstacles and challenges throughout your way but you managed to push through," I loved my father so much giving me encouragement and confidence I gave them one last hug before they could held out to their seats.

Bianca and Trinity continued to work their magic on me, telling me that they were so happy for me that I could finally be at peace with the love of my life.

I was so grateful to have them as my bridesmaids, and then I saw the love of my life standing there waiting for me.

After they finished my makeup, the door opened, and I saw my father coming in. He looked inside the mirror while I did the same.

"Are you ready, dear?" He asked me.

I nodded my head as my nerves went away, feeling a sense of peace knowing that I could finally be happy. I bid my goodbyes to the girls as I heard the music playing in the background.

It was my favorite song ever, and I especially hoped that it could be used in my wedding when I walked down the aisle.

'The day we met Frozen I held my breath Right from the start I knew that I'd found a home for my heart'

When I came down the steps, seeing my father and his father waiting on me for this special moment, my nerves started to come back again, and I began to breathe in and out to calm myself down.

I went towards them, intertwining my arms into theirs while they began walking me down the aisle. When I tell you, my mouth dropped at the outside venue; it was so gorgeous and pretty.

'Beats fast Colors and promises How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow'

I saw everyone standing up, congratulating me, including his family members and cousins. When I looked at him, he was standing there trying to keep his composure as he used both of his hands against his face.

'One step closer'

He looked so good in his suit, with a fresh haircut, his Cuban silver chain, and a Rolex watch on his wrist. He never fails to look good.

After his father and mine walked me down the aisle, my father came up to Jey, gave him a hug, and whispered in his ear.

"Take care of my daughter Joshua; she's a precious soul," He whispered as Jey nodded his head.

"Don't worry, pops; I will," Jey whispered back as they turned around and stared at me.

We both smiled at each other trying our best to keep our composure together while being like this, ion' think I will be after we say our vows.

'I have died everyday waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more'

Everyone sat down in their seats as the pastor began to speak.

"Dear beloved, we are gathering here today in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and woman in matrimony," Pastor Paul said.

"Today, these two soulmates join together with a declaration of love as they embark on their journey in life together." As he continued to speak, Jey and I couldn't stop stealing glances at each other, smiling at the fact that we were getting married.

"The bond and covenant of this marriage was established by God in creation; during this union, Tiana and Joshua now come joined. If any of you can show or have any reasoning to why they shouldn't be together, speak now or forever hold your peace,"

It was silent I was hoping hearing from a certain person but I guess they didn't show up which that gave me a sense of relief honestly I had enough of her shit anyways including is mother.

The pastor continued to speak as he turned his attention toward my father, who was standing there with his arms in mine.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Pastor Paul asked.

"I do, Pastor. I am giving him every single blessing to be with my daughter, " my father said, and the pastor nodded his head.

My father gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading back to his seat with my mother while the Pastor continued. After he was done speaking, it was time for Jey and I to take our vows together.

I could see that Jey was losing his composure, tears falling from his cheeks as he held my hands and smiled at me.

"Tiana, ever since I met you, you have brought nothing but pure joy into my life, especially when dealing with a lot of things that came from my past. You were right there, never leaving my side. I always want you to know that I will ride with you, protect you, and love you down with all of my heart forever. I love you so much," he confessed as I wiped his tears from his face, smiling at him.

"Joshua...oh Joshua...you have been the perfect man for me ever since I met you; you showed me how much you loved me and, if I would've told myself years ago that I would be married to someone who loves me unconditionally the old me probably would've laugh honestly, but you've been so caring and loving especially with being a great father to our daughter Gianna you mean the world to me and I'll ride with you until the day I die love and I mean it honestly," I said, feeling tears coming down my cheeks, feeling him wipe them off for me.

Jonathan's son came over with the rings, and he gave them to Jey and me so that we could put them on our fingers.

"Tiana Cole Hayes, will you have this man to be your Husband, to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both live?" Pastor Paul said.

"I do,"

He turned toward Jey's direction, "Joshua Samuel Fatu, will you have this woman to be your Wife, to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful unto her as long as you both live?" Jey nodded his head before speaking.

"Yes, I do,"

Jey began to place my ring on the left side of my finger, saying, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. With all that I am and all that I have, I honor you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." Afterward, I placed his ring on the right side of his finger before speaking my vows.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I have honored you, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and in Holy Spirit," I said as the pastor joined our right hands together.

"These two have spoken and confessed their love for each other in the name of Jesus and the Holy Spirit I Pronounced you as Mrs and Mr Fatu!" He said as everyone stood and began to clap their hands for us.

Jey pulled me in for a passionate kiss, swirling his tongue inside of my mouth as I wrapped my arms around him.

'Time stands still Beauty and all she is I will be brave I will not let anything take away What's standing in front of me Every breath, every hour has come to this'

He picked me up bridal-style as we walked down the aisle together. While he carried me down, I heard his family shouting Uso, which I found assuming.

'One step closer'

✧.* We were all outside on the beach enjoying the evening sunset. I saw the wahine ladies dancing, moving their hips back and forth, which I joined in, hearing cheers from everyone.

Jey and I were next to our cake as we cut the first piece together while the photographers took our pictures together. I fed him a piece of the cake, and he did the same with me, kissing me on the lips with a little bit of icing on our lips.

'I have died everyday waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more'

After doing that, I pulled Jey to the side as his eyebrows furrowed a bit before speaking. "What's up, mama?" He asked me.

"I have a surprise for you tonight for our honeymoon, so imma have to blindfold you for it," I said, with a smirk on my face.

"Ight then, baby," He placed a kiss on my cheek before leaving to see the guys.

That's when I heard my father tapping on his glass. It went silent for a moment before he started speaking. "I just wanted to make this announcement to my beautiful daughter Tiana and her husband Joshua, " he continued.

"I want to welcome you to the family, son, and thank you for taking my daughter out of that toxic situation with that nigga Malakai I'm glad she has you in her life right now she deserves the whole world like no other," My father said as he blew me a kiss while I did the same.

When Bianca and Montez came up on the mic, I just knew it was going to be emotional for the three of us.

"Well, I want to say congratulations to the newlywed couple but also to say that I am proud of my bestie. She has been through hell and back, especially dealing with that man she was with. If Montez and I didn't help her escape from him, who knows what could've happened to her? Tiana means a lot to me and Montez. I'm so thankful for Joshua. honestly, if I didn't tell her about your tattoo shop, we wouldn't be here today, honestly, but imma say this I TOLD YOU SO TINK!" Bianca said as I just rolled my eyes at her and threw up the middle finger at her.

As more people came up to the microphone, congratulating us and such, then here came Jonathan and Trinity on the mic.

"Yo! Uce I just wanted to say as yo' big brother I am proud you I'm glad you found your soulmate man it's so glad to see you smile," Jonathan said.

"Also, I wanted to say welcome to the family, Tiana! I can't wait for us to spend more time together and have girls' nights out," Trinity said as I kissed her.

Joshua's mother and father came on the microphone, tapping on it, making sure that it was on.

"I'm proud of you Joshua; as your mother I'm proud of the man that you have become and finding your soulmate that will ride for you forever...I'm not good a speeches but Tiana we welcome you in open arms to our family I promise my son will take good care of you okay? I love yall so much," Mama Talisua said I wiped the tears from my eyes with a napkin blowing a kiss towards her way.

It seemed like everyone was done speaking on the microphone, or so I thought. That's when I heard a familiar voice that I didn't even want to hear.

When I turned around, I saw his mother and Kehlani standing there with their arms crossed around their chests.

"You're such a pick-me-ass bitch! You stole him from me! And ruined Kai's life with your allegations," Kehlani said as I rolled my eyes at her.

'And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more'

'This bitch can't be serious right now?'

"Yeah! Now my son is in jail because of you! You ran off to get married to this idiot! He's not better than my son!" Mrs Jackson shouted.

That's when I heard Jey shouting, causing everyone to go silent, "Honestly, imma give y'all five fucking seconds to leave, or imma have both of yall asses dragged the fuck out of here! I'm not going to tolerate both of yall ruining something special for me and Tiana! All because y'all feel bitter about us! Whomp whomp! Now get the fuck outta here will allat bullshit mane!" Everyone didn't say a word. I'm not going to lie. It turned me on seeing him all worked up like this over me.

The security took them away as they screamed and hollered, trying to protest, but it didn't work. I walked up towards Jey, rubbing against his back as he looked up at me.

"Honestly, you look so sexy being all worked up, papa," I said seductively.

"Yeah? I can be more worked up in that pussy when we leave to your "surprise" mamas," He said in a deep and low tone.

It sends vibrations down my spine towards my pussy, hearing him say all of that to me.

✧.* OMNISCIENT Tiana and Jey finally made it to the private island, which was so beautiful even though it was far from where everyone else was.

She had blindfolded Jey so that he wouldn't be able to see. She walked him down from the boat, thanking the driver, and continued to walk him down towards the house.

"Mama, are we even there yet, girl? Got me out here like you kidnapped me and shit," Jey questioned her.

"Yes, Josh, we are here. Boy, relax. I'm finna take the blindfold off of you," she said as she took the blindfold off his eyes.

When she did that, his eyes widened, and he saw the sight of the island—it looked so gorgeous in his eyes—as he stared at her with a smile on his face.

"Tink, this is so beautiful, girl. Did you plan all of this for us?" he asked.

"Of course, love. I wanted us to have alone time together for our honeymoon away from everyone else," Tiana replied as she kissed him on the cheek.

'Ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh I love you for a thousand more Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh'

Jey scooped her up by the legs, carrying her bridal style towards the house, causing her to squeal. They both finally came inside the house, and Jey put her down while they looked around the house.

While they were looking around, Tiana went upstairs to look for something that Jey didn't know she had bought before coming down here. It was probably something that he wanted to do to her anyway but just never said.

Upon looking for what she was looking for, she smiled and went downstairs, seeing Jey sitting on the couch waiting for her. He looked up at her, tilting his head a bit, trying to make out what she had in her hand, spinning it around.

"Mamas, what's that in yo' hand?"

"What has something been on your mind ever since we've been together?" She questioned him.

He shrugged his shoulders before saying something, and then it clicked in his mind, and a smirk appeared on his face.

"Hm, how about I put those handcuffs on you and fuck you senselessly, yo' ass better not run from me either,"

SMUT WARNING Jey was beating her guts in along with having the fluffy handcuffs around her back, giving her left ass cheek a smack causing her to whine.

He pulled on the handcuffs digging his dick deep inside of her as she was moaning his name loudly it was music to his ears.

'One step closer'

"Fuckkkk Josh...fuckkk I-I C-can't," Tiana moaned breathlessly she couldn't escape without falling over the bed.

"Uh-Huh, mama you can take it, take all of this dick," He rasped as he continued to beat her shit in.

'I have died everyday waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more'

She had her face smashed into the pillow hearing nothing but muffled moans and whines throughout all of this as he was beating the drums out of her gushy insides he grabbed a whole load of her hair pulling her closer to his warm body.

Tiana had her eyes rolling in the back of her head as her lips parted while Jey wrapped his hand around her throat firmly bringing his lips onto hers as they roughly kissed each other.

'And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more'

Skins were slapping against each other, making a sticky sound as Jey continued to thrust his hips deeper inside of her, placing wet kisses on her neck.

"This my pussy mama? Hm? Looking so sexy with these handcuffs around yo' wrist," Tiana couldn't even comprehend what he just said as her mind went foggy from his deep strokes that she was getting from him.

Earning a slap on the ass causing Tiana to wince at the stinging sensation, "e tatau ona ou toe fai a'u pepe? ta'u mai o le pusi lea a tama," his Samoan language rolled of his tongue like fine wine.

"Yesss daddy this is all yours...you fuck me so good..." Tiana mewled weakly, gripping onto his mullet.

His dick stuffed her up so good it just made her go stupid as she began throwing it back onto him, which caught him off guard as he pounded into her matching her movements.

"Ouuu fuck mama...fai a'u ua nuti," He demanded, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"C'mon baby keep goin' fo' me, keep goin'" The way he was talking to her with his low and deep voice made her even more wetter than she was before.

Tiana didn't know how much she could take at the moment, feeling her toes curling as a pit went down her stomach, knowing that she was going to cream all over this man.

She wanted to break free from the handcuffs but couldn't as she continued to throw her ass back onto him.

Jey looked down at his perfect view of his wife's ass seeing her arch being aligned so perfectly, tucking the bottom of his lip in.

"Fuckkk Daddy...pleaseee," Tianna begged him as he slapped her on the ass.

"Please what baby? You finna cum?"

"Yesss! Please let me cum daddy I'm begging you," He loved the way she was begging for him so that she can cum all over him.

Her legs started to shake and become fragile while her whole body was laid out on the bed but did he care? No, he didn't care.

She felt his dick twitching inside of her, knowing that he was going cum, but she didn't want him to nut in her since they just had their baby girl, Gianna.

His movements kept getting sloppier and sloppier by each thrust he had given her driving her insane, that's when he put up the one leg up and one leg down combo on her ass hearing her moan his name loudly.

He had a satisfying smile on his face hearing her screaming his name for dear life, she felt tears coming down her face along with some of her drool that was coming from her mouth moving towards their pillow.

She was begging him to slow down, but he didn't listen, having that determination to get his nut. Grabbing her by the throat, drilling her gushy insides while gripping onto her hips tightly.

He put his lips on her ear before whispering, "Do you think you deserve daddy's nut, baby? Hm?" Tiana nodded her head, gripping her throat a little bit more tightly.

"Yes Daddy I deserve it I want it!" Tiana whined desperately as her body ache.

"Yeah? Lemme' put one in you then princess," at this point she didn't care they'll buy a plan b in the morning she just wanted this to be over.

Tiana let out a loud moan as she came all over Jey's dick, shaking uncontrollably and almost collapsing, but Jey caught her before she could.

After a few more deep strokes, he gave her. Jey filled her up with his warm seeds like a Twinkie while having a satisfying groan escape his lips before pulling out of her.

SMUT OVER.

Jey pulled out of her, seeing her collapsed on the bed trembling as he went to get the keys to the handcuffs. As he unlocked the handcuffs, she couldn't move an inch, so he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and planting nothing but kisses all over her body.

Her body felt at ease, feeling his kisses and him rubbing her thighs. Jey gazed up at her, kissing her on the lips.

"You good baby?" He asked as she gazed down at him giving him a faint smile.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay probably can't walk for the next few days," she said as he chuckled at her before placing a soft kiss on her temple.

Her and Jey snuggled up in the blankets together admiring each other's features watching the sun seat.

"I love you so much Tink let's began our new chapter together," Jey pulled his pinkie out.

"I love you too bubba forever," Tiana said as she interlocked her pinkie with his.

Under Your Touch.

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tianasworld: Mr and Mrs Fatu 09/20/2023 🥹🤍 uceyjucey: can't wait to be on this journey together mama I love you so much🫶🏼 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey I love you too bubba🫶🏼 biancabelairwwe: yall stop, yall is finna make me cry again bro trinity_fatu: I love you guys so much 🫶🏽 tianasworld: @ trinity_fatu We love you too rikishi: Love yall so much ♥️ jonathanfatu: I'm rooting for yall fr fr shelovesemma: I'm so happy for you guys honestly 🥹🥹

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tianasworld, jonathanfatu, MontezFordWWE, and others liked your post.

uceyjucey: Officially Married to my lover 09/20/2023😩🤍 tianasworld: we are in this together baby let's began exploring and learning new things together. 🫶🏼🩷 uceyjucey: @ tianasworld yes baby 🩷 jonathanfatu: I'm proud of you little bro you're now a married man 😀 uceyjucey: @ jonathanfatu don't start 🙄 MontezFordWWE: nigga is married nowwww thank you for coming into Tiana's life Uce. Bless Yall. 🤍 rikishi: ♥️ zillafatu: Maneee I'm so proud of you Cuzzo like fasho romanreigns: proud of you. ♥️ helovelani: this is fucking disgraceful this should have been me. uceyjucey: @ helovelani GTFO like respectfully it smells like you're bitter asf right now. 🙄 americannightmarecody: Proud of you Uce YEET! samizayn: I love to see it ♥️

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A/n: I'm not crying I swear like honestly 😭😭 but I want to thank every single one of yall for tuning into this story I wasn't expecting everyone to like it or enjoy it but I'm glad yall did honestly.

Now it's time for focus on my two new fanfics  will be updating but I hope yall enjoy the final chapter of Under Your Touch.

Stay Ucey.

[futuremrscameron]

weird girl!kook

weird girl!kook is a social outcast amongst her fellow kooks; they didn’t her strange and offputting for her macabre paintings

she loves people watching; it helps her gain inspiration for new paintings, and it’s fun. it gives her an insight on the lives of kildare’s “elite”

her parents are both artists, so she loves to joke that she never stood a chance. one of her mothers works with charcoal and the other is a sculptor so she was surrounded by the limitless potential of expression through art since before she could talk

has two ferrets named ‘asuka’ and ‘shinji’ and they’re her babies. if they’re not rolling around on her bed they’re fighting and she’s constantly having to break them up

she does not have many non artist friends and even her non artist friends are a little artsy in their own way (ie; kiara)

knew of jj before officially meeting at midsummers. she was intrigued by the party animal front he puts up in front of everyone that barely masks his cruelty

wanted to drop out of kildare private academy and focus on her art but her parents convinced her to stay and graduate so she could at least her her high school diploma and when that didn’t work, access to their art supplies

smokes like a fucking chimney. not weed mind you, though she does get her stash from the mainland, cigarettes. she says it helps her think and that it’s good for stress but really she just likes the smell

weird girl!kook finds herself inexplicably drawn to jj after their midsummers meeting. she wants to get to know him but doesn’t want to seem desperate or like a school girl with a crush but her asking around about him isn’t helping

when he corners her asks her about it, she says it’s purely artistic curiosity, he has a good face and she would like to paint him. this inflates his ego to the gods so of course she has to humble him every so often

their painting sessions are something they both end up looking forward to though admittedly they had a rocky start

“why are you naked?”

he smirks at her blatant disgust, “aren’t you gonna draw me like one of your french girls?”

she rolls her eyes and begins packing up her materials. he frowns. “woah what are you doing?”

“if you’re not gonna take this seriously you can go. i can find someone else.”

he picks up his shirt from the floor and covers his lower half. he’s in front of her in mere seconds when she turns back from pack.

he grabs her arm, “hey hey hey okay wait there’s no need for that. i’m sorry.” she looks at him, trying to gage if he’s genuine. she looks down at his hand on her arm, he lets go.

“sorry.” he scratches his head awkwardly, she takes note of this too.

“you said that already.”

his cheeks flush at her bluntness, “yeah um sorry. sorry.” his face somehow grows pinker.

“you’re good.” she unpacks her paints and looks back at him, “well get dressed we’ve got work to do.”

he grins, “yes ma’am.”

she looks down at the arm he grabbed. goosebumps

often home alone because he mothers go to the mainland to sell their art as a kid she hated it but now she’s thankful she doesn’t have to explain why the infamous jackson genrette is sneaking out her room at 8 am

surprisingly not a lightweight, jj finds out the hard way when he tries to challenge her to a drinking game. she knew he was trying to get her drunk to fuck her so of course she hustled him, pretending not to know the rules and struggle in the first round only to kick his ass in the second, third, and fourth round. she ends up carrying him back to hers

her colorful outfits and makeup makes her stand out more than anything but she refuses to change it despite the drawbacks (being perceived) it’s how she expresses herself outside of her art

she hates being the center of attention but loves receiving praise for her art, this double edged sword always strikes when she offers to paint sets and props for school plays. she ends up the talk of the school for a month before she happily goes back to being the outcast

weird!girl!kook doesn’t realize she likes jj until he pulls up to her house in his motorcycle on one of their non-meeting days. he tells her to get dressed cause he just wanted to see her. he convinces her to take him up to the roof so they can look at the stars. he points out every constellation he can find and tells her about his mom teaching him all about them. it’s the softest and most genuine she’s ever seen him

thinks rafe is weird and sketchy but understands why him and jj are friends. rafe thinks she’s weird and sketchy but knows she’s exactly jj’s type. they get along for his sake

has jj saved as ‘my muse’ in her phone. jj has her saved as ‘sexy da vinci’ before he gets serious about her and ‘eye of the beholder’ after they start dating

no one understands how or why they’re together because they’re so different and they don’t seem to like each other, at least that’s what it looks like to outsiders. they still haven’t gotten over that time she called him a dirty dog after he asked her to put her cigarette out on him while he was drunk (she did)

weird!girl!kook who hopes to leave outer banks share her art with the rest of the world and secretly hopes jj will come along

—————————————————————————

this took me a minute cause it was not planned but as always tell me what you thought, positive or negative just keep it classy. <3

(i wonder if anyone will catch the iwtv inspo)

[amethystarachnid]

Hello. I’d like to request a Loki x Fem!Reader. Not sure if you’ve seen Step Up 3 but the song Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan was played and basically in the scene the two love interests did a tango (I would look it up for reference 🩷). So maybe Loki and Reader are on an undercover mission and they get tied into a tango. You can interpret it however you want but I’ve had this ask stuck in my head for a while now. Hope you like this! 🩷🩷

BOUND BY DUTY

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, flirty

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: Loki has been called form the S.H.I.E.L.D. to help the Avengers with an anomaly that's happening around the world and you're assigned to be his handler. You were told to not trust him but what if under that mask of indifference there's a man just wishing to be loved?

ᯓ★ Word count: 9.7k

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just a few hated kisses and flirty comments

ᯓ★ I haven't seen the movie but I've seen the scene on YouTube (like just the 3 minutes ? scene) and really hop you'll like the story

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound feels heavier than usual. It could be the weight of the mission ahead or the fact that the one person who might hold the answers is a literal god—a god of mischief, no less. You’ve been briefed on Loki’s recent exploits, his failed conquest of Earth, and his punishment in Asgard’s dungeons. You know better than to trust him, but you also know that sometimes the devil you know is preferable to the devil you don’t.

Nick Fury has chosen you, of all people, to act as Loki’s handler. You don’t know whether to feel honored or utterly cursed. He claims it’s because of your “unflinching professionalism” and “ability to handle high-pressure situations.” You suspect it’s because most of your colleagues would rather face a firing squad than deal with Loki’s silver tongue.

The sound of the jet door opening draws your attention. You straighten your back and smooth your jacket as two Asgardian guards march down the ramp, their armor gleaming even under the dim hangar lights. Between them walks Loki, his wrists bound in glowing cuffs that hum faintly with suppressed power. He’s wearing his usual dark green attire, though the horned helmet is missing. Without it, his raven-black hair tumbles around his face, framing sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His piercing blue eyes sweep the room, landing on you.

You can feel his gaze like a physical weight, appraising you. He smirks. Of course, he smirks.

“Agent,” Fury’s voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you slightly. “Take him to interrogation. The guards will brief you on his restraints.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your voice calm and steady despite the flutter in your chest.

The Asgardian guards exchange a few words with you about Loki’s bindings. They warn you not to let your guard down—ever. You assure them you won’t, though you’re starting to realize that resisting Loki’s words might be a different kind of challenge altogether.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing for Loki to follow you. He arches an eyebrow but complies, falling into step beside you. The guards trail behind at a respectful distance.

The walk to the interrogation room is uncomfortably silent. You’re hyper-aware of Loki’s presence beside you, his tall frame moving with a predatory grace. He doesn’t look like someone who’s been imprisoned for months; he looks like he owns the place, and you’re just a guest in his domain.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. Of course, he does.

“Tell me, Agent,” he begins, his voice smooth and lilting, “do they often send mortals to babysit gods, or am I a special case?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, determined not to rise to the bait. “I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any trouble. Think of me as your parole officer.”

He chuckles softly, the sound almost pleasant if you didn’t know better. “And if I were to misbehave, what then? Will you scold me? Perhaps send me to my room without supper?”

His words drip with mockery, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—amusement, maybe even intrigue. You keep your expression neutral. “If you misbehave, you’ll find out just how creative S.H.I.E.L.D. can be when it comes to disciplinary measures.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmurs, and you feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the way his eyes linger on you. You remind yourself that this is what Loki does: he gets under people’s skin, twists their emotions until they don’t know which way is up. You won’t let him succeed.

The interrogation room is as stark and clinical as you’d expect. A metal table and two chairs sit under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. Loki looks around with mild disdain as if the room itself offends his sensibilities.

“This is where you intend to question me?” he asks, his tone dripping with derision. “How... quaint.”

You motion for him to sit. He doesn’t move immediately, instead watching you with that infuriating smirk. Finally, he lowers himself into the chair with the air of someone granting you a great favor.

The guards secure his bindings to the table before stepping back. You nod at them, and they leave, the door clicking shut behind them. Now it’s just you and Loki. You take the seat across from him, pulling out a tablet with your notes.

“We have reason to believe you have information about a recent incident involving extraterrestrial technology,” you say, your voice steady. “S.H.I.E.L.D. recovered several devices that match the energy signature of the Tesseract. We need to know where they came from.”

Loki leans back in his chair, the chains on his wrists clinking softly. “Ah, the Tesseract. Such a fascinating little trinket. Tell me, Agent, do you often meddle in matters beyond your comprehension?”

“This isn’t about me,” you reply coolly. “It’s about you. And what you know.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what do I gain from sharing this knowledge? A lighter sentence? A pat on the head? Somehow, I doubt your superiors are feeling particularly charitable toward me.”

“We’re not asking for charity. We’re asking for cooperation. Help us, and we might consider negotiating with Asgard on your behalf.”

Loki’s laughter fills the room, sharp and cold. “Negotiate with Asgard? Oh, how delightfully naive. Do you honestly believe Odin would entertain such an offer? He’d sooner banish me to the farthest reaches of the cosmos than indulge your mortal whims.”

You suppress a sigh, already feeling the weight of this conversation. But then Loki leans forward, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Still,” he says, his voice softer now, almost teasing, “I might be persuaded to cooperate. After all, it would be such a shame to disappoint you.”

There it is again—that deliberate charm, the way he threads his words with just enough sincerity to make you second-guess yourself. You fold your arms, meeting his gaze head-on.

“You don’t intimidate me, Loki.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to intimidate you,” he says, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “Merely... entertain you. Is that not the proper term for what mortals call ‘flirting’?”

Your stomach flips, but you keep your expression neutral. “If this is your idea of flirting, I’m not impressed.”

“Hmm,” he muses, leaning back again. “Perhaps I’ve spent too long among Asgardians. We have a certain... flair for tradition. Shall I compose you a sonnet instead? Or perhaps challenge another suitor to a duel in your honor?”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You quickly school your features, but not before Loki notices. His smirk widens.

“There it is,” he says, his tone triumphant. “A crack in the armor. I knew you weren’t entirely immune to my charms.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you tap a few notes into your tablet, focusing on the task at hand.

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” you say firmly. “Where did the devices come from?”

Loki sighs dramatically, as if the question bores him. “You mortals are so dreadfully predictable. Always demanding answers, yet never willing to pay the price for them.”

“What’s the price?”

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Your name.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your name, Agent,” he repeats, enunciating the words slowly, as if you’re a particularly dense student. “You see, it’s rather difficult to have a proper conversation when I must refer to you as simply ‘Agent.’ It’s so... impersonal.”

You hesitate. It’s not a particularly sensitive piece of information, but giving him your name feels like handing him a weapon. Still, you decide it’s a small concession if it means making progress.

“Y/N,” you say finally. “My name is Y/N.”

Loki’s smile softens, though it’s no less dangerous. “A beautiful name for a beautiful mortal. Tell me, Y/N, do all agents possess your... charm, or are you truly one of a kind?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you reply, though your cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. You hope the harsh lighting hides it.

“Ah, but it’s not flattery if it’s true,” he counters smoothly. “And if I may say so, you wear skepticism rather well. It suits you.”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to laugh. Loki’s flirtations are relentless, but you can’t let them distract you. You refocus on the task, determined to get the answers you need.

But as the interrogation continues, one thing becomes clear: working with Loki is going to be anything but straightforward.

The quinjet ride to Avengers Tower is suffocating in its silence. Loki sits across from you, his long legs stretched out casually as if he owns the entire aircraft. His wrists remain bound, the faint glow of the Asgardian cuffs serving as a reminder of his diminished power. But that doesn’t stop him from exuding arrogance with every calculated shift of his posture.

“Is this where I’m supposed to tremble?” he muses, his voice cutting through the quiet. “The great Avengers Tower, lair of the mighty heroes who so thoroughly bested me.” His smirk deepens. “How quaint.”

You’re seated across from him, tablet in hand, pretending to review your notes. But Loki’s presence is impossible to ignore, his every word curling around you like smoke.

“Maybe don’t insult the people who’ll be watching your every move,” you say, not looking up. “They’re already not thrilled about this arrangement.”

He tilts his head, watching you with something between amusement and curiosity. “And you, Y/N? Are you thrilled?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“Oh, but your job now entails keeping me under control, does it not?” His voice lowers, playful and conspiratorial. “Tell me, how does it feel to hold the leash of a god?”

You glance up, meeting his eyes without flinching. “It feels like babysitting a particularly arrogant toddler.”

His laughter rings out, rich and genuine, surprising you. For a moment, you think you’ve caught him off guard. But then his expression shifts back to its usual smugness, and you realize he’s thoroughly enjoying this verbal sparring.

When the quinjet lands on the rooftop pad of Avengers Tower, you rise, gesturing for Loki to follow. He does, the clinking of his cuffs echoing as he steps out into the open air. The city sprawls out below, glittering in the early evening light, but Loki barely spares it a glance. His focus remains on the tower itself, his smirk growing as he takes in the structure.

“Ah, Stark’s playground,” he says. “I trust the man himself is waiting inside, ready to deliver a string of tiresome quips?”

“Something like that,” you reply, leading him toward the elevator.

As the doors slide open, Loki steps inside with the air of a man entering his throne room. You press the button for the common floor, bracing yourself for the chaos that’s about to unfold.

The doors slide open to reveal the Avengers lounging in the common area. Tony Stark is leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, while Natasha Romanoff sharpens a knife at the table. Steve Rogers stands near the window, arms crossed, his jaw tight. Bruce Banner hovers awkwardly in the background, glancing up as you and Loki step in.

“Look who’s here!” Tony’s voice cuts through the tension, dripping with mock enthusiasm. “Reindeer Games himself. I thought Asgard had a no-returns policy.”

Loki’s lips curl into a predatory smile. “Ah, Stark. Still compensating for something, I see.”

“Alright, let’s not,” you interject quickly, stepping between them. “Loki’s here to help us, not pick a fight.”

“Help us?” Steve’s voice is cold, his gaze sharp as it settles on Loki. “That’s a generous interpretation.”

“It’s true,” you reply, keeping your tone firm. “We’ve encountered tech with energy signatures similar to the Tesseract. Loki’s the only one who might have answers.”

“Because trusting the guy who tried to enslave the planet worked out so well the first time,” Tony quips, raising his glass.

Loki chuckles softly. “It’s heartwarming to see how fondly you remember me.”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably in the corner, his eyes darting between Loki and the others. You don’t miss the tension in his posture, the way his hands twitch as if ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. Loki notices too, and for the first time since his arrival, a flicker of unease crosses his face. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

“I see the beast is still lurking,” Loki says, his voice quieter now, though the edge remains. “Tell me, Dr. Banner, does he hunger for revenge?”

Bruce flinches, his face pale. “I—I’d rather not...”

“Enough,” you cut in sharply, fixing Loki with a glare. “You’re here to cooperate, remember?”

Loki raises his hands as far as the cuffs allow, feigning innocence. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten the good doctor.”

Bruce mutters something under his breath and retreats further into the room. You make a mental note to keep an eye on both him and Loki; their shared tension feels like a powder keg waiting to ignite.

After the initial round of barbs, you manage to get Loki settled in a secure room. It’s more comfortable than the dungeons of Asgard but still far from luxurious—bare walls, a simple bed, and a reinforced door with biometric locks.

“Charming,” Loki says, surveying his new accommodations. “I feel right at home.”

“Good,” you reply, leaning against the doorframe. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. If you step out of line, even once, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He steps closer, just enough to invade your space without crossing a line. His voice drops to a low purr. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t doubt your ability to... discipline me. In fact, I almost look forward to it.”

Your cheeks flush despite yourself, but you hold your ground. “Get some rest. We’ll debrief tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave, you hear his voice again, softer this time. “Y/N?”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. He’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper.

“Why do you trust them with me?” he asks. “Your precious Avengers. Do you truly believe they can keep me in line?”

You meet his gaze, your own unwavering. “I don’t trust them to keep you in line. That’s my job.”

His smirk returns, but there’s something almost genuine beneath it. “Indeed, it is.”

The following day, the team gathers in the briefing room. Loki is seated at the far end of the table, his wrists still bound, though his demeanor remains as smug as ever. A holographic projection displays images of the recovered devices, their design sleek and alien.

“These were found in an abandoned Hydra facility,” you explain, gesturing to the display. “They emit the same energy signature as the Tesseract, but we have no idea what they’re for. That’s where Loki comes in.”

All eyes turn to him. He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“Convince me,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Why should I share my insights with you?”

“Because if you don’t,” Tony says, leaning forward, “we’ll lock you in a room with Banner and see how long it takes before the Other Guy wants a rematch.”

Bruce shoots Tony a horrified look, but Loki’s smirk falters for a split second. You notice the way his fingers tighten against the edge of the table.

“Enough,” you say firmly. “We’re not resorting to threats.” You turn to Loki, your voice softening slightly. “You know what’s out there, and you know how dangerous it can be. Help us stop it. Prove you’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.”

For a moment, the room is silent. Loki’s gaze locks onto yours, something flickering in his expression—something almost vulnerable. Then, slowly, he inclines his head.

“Very well,” he says, his voice smooth once more. “Let’s see if mortals can keep up.”

As the meeting disperses, Loki lingers behind, waiting until it’s just the two of you.

“Nicely done, Y/N,” he says, his tone almost... complimentary. “You’ve mastered the art of persuasion.”

“I didn’t persuade you,” you reply. “I just told the truth.”

He steps closer, his smirk returning. “And yet, it worked. I wonder, what other truths might you use to sway me?”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Let’s focus on saving the world first, shall we?”

“As you wish,” he says, bowing his head slightly. But as he steps past you, his voice drops to a whisper. “Though I suspect saving me might be your true challenge.”

You watch him leave, your heart inexplicably pounding. This mission just got a lot more complicated.

The next morning, the Avengers leave in a flurry of purpose and energy, Stark’s voice echoing with instructions as they file out of the tower. It’s a rare sight—every single one of them heading into the field together. You’re left behind, tasked with monitoring Loki and keeping the tower secure.

The quiet that follows their departure is almost unnerving. You sit in the common area, flipping through a report on your tablet, when Loki saunters in. He’s unbound for now—S.H.I.E.L.D.’s restraints only used when necessary. His movements are languid, predatory, as he crosses the room with his usual air of entitlement.

“Left alone with me again, Y/N?” he drawls, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You don’t look up. “You’re always alone, Loki. I’m just here to make sure you don’t destroy anything or anyone.”

He hums thoughtfully, his sharp gaze raking over you. “I wonder, is that truly why you remain? Or do you find my company... intriguing?”

You glance at him, exasperated. “I find it tolerable. At best.”

“And yet, here you are.” His smirk widens as he steps closer, just enough to test your boundaries. “Tell me, Agent, what do you do when the others aren’t here to play their parts? Surely, you don’t spend every waking moment in this dull little tower watching me.”

“Someone has to.” You set your tablet aside and stand, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Why don’t you make my job easier and sit quietly for once?”

“But then how would I amuse myself?” He takes another step closer, his voice lowering. “You may not admit it, but I suspect you’d miss my antics if I were to behave.”

You roll your eyes and walk toward the kitchen, feigning indifference. “Don’t flatter yourself, Loki.”

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. You keep yourself busy with monitoring systems and catching up on reports, all while Loki stays suspiciously quiet in his room. It's unusual—he’s normally a restless presence, eager to test limits.

You assume his compliance is a sign of temporary boredom. What you don’t know is that Loki is lying in his sparse room, calculating. He’s been studying the tower’s security systems, searching for a way to slip past its safeguards. Tonight might be the night, he thinks. He’s memorized the patterns, the gaps, and he knows he can vanish before the Avengers even realize he’s gone.

As the hours stretch into evening, you retire to your room, unaware of the god’s intentions. Your space is a rare sanctuary in the tower, a blend of cozy practicality and personal touches that feel distinctly you.

Loki waits until the tower falls completely silent. With a wave of his hand, he disables the monitoring device in his room. It’s a minor spell—one he’s been saving for the right moment. The cuffs are no longer a problem; he’s studied the locking mechanism enough to slip them off without much effort.

He steps into the hallway, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. For the first time in weeks, he feels a surge of freedom, the tantalizing promise of escape. He heads for the exit, his mind already planning the next steps.

But as he passes by your room, a faint sound catches his attention. The door is slightly ajar, spilling a sliver of warm light into the hall. Loki hesitates, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

He peeks inside—and what he sees makes his breath hitch.

You’re standing in front of your bed, freshly out of the shower. Your hair is damp, curling against your shoulders, and you’re wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around your body. The bathroom door behind you is still open, steam curling into the air, and the glow of a bedside lamp bathes your skin in soft light.

Completely unaware of your observer, you move to the dresser, pulling it open to retrieve clothes. As you reach up, the towel slips slightly, revealing more of your shoulder and the curve of your collarbone. Loki swallows hard, a rush of heat pooling in his chest and spreading lower.

He knows he should leave—should slip away unnoticed and continue with his plan. But he doesn’t move.

There’s something captivating about this glimpse of you outside the professional walls you keep so firmly in place. You’re unguarded, human in a way he rarely sees, and it stirs something in him he doesn’t entirely understand.

He takes a step closer, his presence still undetected. The urge to say something, to tease you as he always does, bubbles up, but he suppresses it.

For once, the god of mischief is utterly silent.

You turn suddenly, as if sensing something, and his heart lurches. He retreats quickly, pressing himself against the wall just as your eyes flick toward the door.

“Hello?” you call, your voice uncertain.

Loki curses himself for his foolishness. He shouldn’t have lingered—but now that he’s seen this side of you, his desire to leave the tower has shifted. He watches as you step closer to the door, your expression wary.

He slips away, retreating to his room without a sound. Once inside, he leans against the wall, his mind racing.

The thought of escape still lingers in the back of his mind, but it no longer feels urgent. Not tonight.

Not when he knows you’re here, in the same space, entirely unaware of the effect you’ve had on him.

You find Loki in the common area, lounging on the couch as if nothing happened. His cuffs are back in place, though you notice a faint smugness in his expression, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Good morning,” he says smoothly, his tone laced with amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You seem chipper today.”

“Perhaps I’ve found reason to be,” he replies, his gaze flickering over you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You frown, brushing off the unease that his words stir. “Try not to enjoy yourself too much. You’re still under watch.”

“Of course,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “But tell me, Y/N, how did you sleep? Peacefully, I hope.”

There’s something about the way he says it—soft, teasing, with just a hint of mischief—that makes you pause.

You brush past him, refusing to let him get under your skin. But as you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

And in his room later, Loki sits at the edge of his bed, the memory of you from the night before seared into his mind.

For now, his escape can wait.

The tension in the air was thick as the Avengers gathered in the briefing room, the holographic screen showing images of the upcoming gala. Tony Stark stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on the surface, eyes narrowed as he analyzed the data. Steve Rogers was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw set, while Natasha Romanoff sat with a focused expression, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. Bruce Banner, still uneasy around Loki, looked at the screen, then at his colleagues, silently awaiting the inevitable question.

"Alright," Tony began, his voice cutting through the thick silence. "We've got a masked gala happening in three days. High-profile event. The criminals we're tracking are expected to make a deal there, and it's our best shot at catching them."

"But they’ll be surrounded by a lot of people," Natasha said, folding her arms. "And these are highly dangerous individuals—some with connections to Hydra. We can’t risk a full-on assault."

"I agree," Steve added, his tone serious. "If we act too soon, we’ll spook them. We need to get inside, gather intel, and only move in when we have enough to bring them down safely."

"The problem," Tony continued, tapping a button on the table to bring up a closer view of the suspects, "is that they’re too well-protected. The best way in is through someone they don’t expect. Someone like... Loki."

The room went quiet. Everyone exchanged glances, the air thick with unease. Even though Loki had been cooperating—somewhat—the trust wasn’t there. Not after what he’d done. Not after the chaos he’d tried to bring to Earth. And still, his knowledge of these kinds of circles, his ability to navigate a room and blend in with the highest of society—well, it was a skill set they couldn’t afford to ignore.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Tony continued. “But he’s the only one who can do this. We send him in as a guest. He can be charming—when he wants to be—and this kind of event is perfect for him. He won’t be recognized as a threat. In fact, they’ll probably be more inclined to trust him because of his past affiliations.”

“But we can’t just let him roam free,” Steve said, his distrust of the god evident. “There’s still the matter of him being dangerous. Even if he’s pretending to play nice, he’s unpredictable.”

“Exactly,” Tony said with a nod. “Which is why we’ll send Y/N in with him. As his escort.”

The room went silent again, this time for a different reason. Every eye turned to you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of their gazes. It wasn’t exactly a choice you’d been expecting. You had done plenty of fieldwork, but partnering with Loki? That was a new level of uncomfortable.

“Y/N’s been on the ground for this mission longer than any of us,” Tony continued, sensing the hesitation. “She knows the people, she knows how to blend in, and most importantly, she knows Loki better than any of us. She can keep him in check. Plus, we need someone who can keep him focused when things get... tense.”

You couldn’t help but shoot Tony a sharp look. “You’re assuming I’ll be able to control him. I’m not sure that’s realistic.”

“I’m confident you can,” Tony said with a shrug, though his tone was far from comforting. “Besides, we’ll be monitoring you both from the moment you step inside. We’ll be feeding you intel, and we’ve got backup in case things go sideways. But we can’t afford to miss this opportunity.”

You let out a long breath. The Avengers were right in one respect—this gala would be the criminals’ first big move, and it was the perfect chance to catch them red-handed. The only problem was the wild card in all of this—Loki.

“You do realize, he’s going to hate this, right?” you said, glancing toward the hallway where Loki’s room was. “He won’t go along with it without making some... demands.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said with a smirk. “But that’s where you come in. You’re going to keep him in line, whether he likes it or not.”

The idea of working so closely with Loki was disconcerting, to say the least. You weren’t sure if you were more concerned about his volatile personality or the way he looked at you—like he could read you with a single glance. Either way, being his partner at a high-stakes event was sure to turn this mission into something far more complicated than it already was.

“You’ll need to get him suited up,” Tony added. “Dress him the part. He’s got the charm, but he’s going to need the right... accessories to sell it. A tux, maybe something dark and mysterious. And, of course, a story. We’re going with the ‘rich but elusive businessman’ angle.”

You nodded reluctantly. “I’ll make sure he’s... presentable. But don’t expect him to be on his best behavior just because he’s wearing a suit.”

“I’m counting on you to make sure he stays in character, Y/N,” Tony said, locking eyes with you. “We need him to play nice for just a few hours. If he steps out of line, you have full clearance to use whatever means necessary to rein him in.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I don’t like putting you in this position, Y/N. But this is the only chance we’ve got to take down these criminals. You know the risks, and we’re counting on you to make sure Loki doesn’t derail everything.”

“I get it,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I’ll keep him focused. But if he decides to do something... foolish, don’t expect me to clean up after him.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony said with a grin. “But seriously, we’re counting on you both. The gala is our best chance to catch them. You’ll be getting intel from us in real time, so we’ll know exactly when to move in.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on your shoulders. This wasn’t just about stopping criminals—it was about making sure Loki didn’t ruin everything, too. And while you could handle the job, you knew it wouldn’t be easy, especially with a god of mischief at your side.

As you walked to Loki’s room to prepare him for the mission, your mind raced. You were about to go undercover with someone who had a knack for turning every situation into a game. It was going to be a challenge, no doubt about it. But if it meant catching the criminals and keeping the tower—and your team—safe, you were ready to do whatever it took.

You reached his door and knocked twice, preparing yourself for the inevitable confrontation. It was time to bring him into the fold, even if that meant wrestling him into a tux and a plan.

Inside, Loki’s voice echoed through the door. “Come in, Y/N. I trust this isn’t a social call?”

You opened the door, steeling yourself. The mission was about to begin, and there was no turning back.

The grandeur of the gala hits you the moment you step into the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the crowd, illuminating the sea of elegant masks and opulent gowns. A live band plays a sultry melody, the kind that fills the air with the promise of secrets. Beside you, Loki cuts an imposing figure, his sharp suit tailored to perfection and his black mask veiling just enough of his face to make him look both alluring and dangerous.

You’re both walking a tightrope here, pretending to be something you’re not while still tethered to the truth. The mission is clear: mingle, gather intel on the criminals, and identify their deal. But the undercurrent of your arrangement hums just beneath the surface, threatening to pull you under with every step.

“They certainly went all out,” Loki muses, his voice smooth as silk. He offers his arm, and though you hesitate for a fraction of a second, you take it. “Is this where I play the doting husband?”

“Try not to overdo it,” you reply, keeping your voice low. “We’re supposed to blend in, not steal the spotlight.”

He tilts his head toward you, his lips curling into a smirk. “But stealing the spotlight is what I do best, darling.”

You give him a warning look, though your heart skips a beat at the way the endearment rolls off his tongue. “Save the theatrics for later. Right now, we need to find our targets.”

He hums in agreement, though the sharp gleam in his eyes suggests he’s more focused on you than the mission. His hand rests lightly over yours as he leads you through the crowd, weaving seamlessly between masked attendees. He’s good at this, you realize, his charm a perfect weapon in this environment.

“Smile,” he murmurs close to your ear, his breath ghosting against your skin. “You look far too serious for someone at a gala.”

You force a small smile, though the proximity of him sends heat rushing to your face. “I’d be more relaxed if I wasn’t babysitting a god with a penchant for chaos.”

“And I’d be more entertained if my wife weren’t so suspicious of me,” he teases, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel intimate.

Before you can retort, Loki’s posture shifts ever so slightly. He leans closer, pretending to adjust your mask, and murmurs, “Our targets are at three o’clock. The tall one with the crimson gown. She’s speaking to a man with a cane.”

You glance subtly in that direction and nod. “Let’s move closer.”

The two of you drift toward the edge of the ballroom, positioning yourselves within earshot of the targets. Loki keeps his hand on yours, the intimate gesture lending an air of authenticity to your cover. You focus on the conversation happening nearby, picking up snippets of information about shipment schedules and encrypted codes.

But then, the music changes.

A familiar tune fills the room—sultry, electric, and unmistakably intense. It’s Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan, reimagined by the live band with a pulsing tango rhythm.

Before you can react, Loki takes your hand and spins you toward the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull back.

“Keeping up appearances,” he says smoothly, his mask glinting in the light. “We’re a married couple, after all. And what better way to celebrate our love than a dance?”

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, but you allow him to lead you onto the floor.

The second your feet touch the polished wood, his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer than you expect. His other hand captures yours, holding it just above shoulder height as he begins to move. The tango’s rhythm demands sharp, deliberate steps, and Loki executes them flawlessly, guiding you as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you say, breathless as he spins you.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replies, his voice low and magnetic.

The music swells, the band leaning into the dramatic crescendos, and you feel the tension between you and Loki rise to match it. Every step, every twist of your body against his, feels charged. His hand lingers just a moment too long when it brushes your hip, his fingers grazing the bare skin between your dress and his touch.

“You’re supposed to be watching the targets,” you remind him, though your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.

“Ah, but how could I focus on them when my wife is such a vision?” His tone is playful, but there’s something darker, more serious, behind his words.

As he dips you, your breath catches. The movement is effortless, but the way his eyes bore into yours makes you forget, for a moment, that this is just an act.

The song’s climax hits, and Loki pulls you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he whispers, “Tell me, darling. Are you pretending to enjoy this as much as I am?”

Your heart pounds, though you refuse to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you haven’t pushed me away,” he counters, spinning you once more before the final beats of the song.

The last note hangs in the air as Loki holds you in a dramatic pose, his arm wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. The applause from the crowd barely registers as you realize your breathing has quickened, your skin warm where his hand rests.

He smirks, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Shall we call this a victory, wife?”

You snap back to reality, pulling away just enough to compose yourself. “Don’t get used to it. We still have a mission.”

“Of course,” he says, though the glint in his eyes suggests he’s far more interested in the game he’s playing with you than the criminals in the room.

As the crowd disperses from the dance floor, you glance toward your targets, who seem to have moved toward a private balcony.

“Come on,” you say, tugging at his arm.

Loki follows, but not before leaning close and murmuring, “I’ll be thinking about that dance for a very long time.”

You don’t dignify him with a response, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. The mission isn’t over yet, and you can only hope Loki’s antics won’t make things even more complicated.

You and Loki follow the targets carefully, keeping a measured distance as they make their way toward a secluded hallway leading to the gala’s private suites. The corridor is dimly lit, lined with ornate wallpaper and gilded sconces. The murmur of the crowd fades, leaving only the faint echo of footsteps as you press closer to the wall, your pulse quickening with the thrill of being so near to your goal.

“They’re heading to the west wing,” Loki whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “It seems our charming couple prefers privacy for their dealings.”

You nod, your heart pounding as you creep along the edge of the hall, trying to stay out of sight. The couple stops just ahead, speaking in hushed tones. Loki steps closer behind you, his presence almost overwhelming in the enclosed space.

“Keep your focus,” you hiss, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I am focused,” he replies, his tone playful but quiet. “Though I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can linger without being noticed.”

It’s a valid concern. The targets seem engrossed in their conversation, but the corridor is too exposed. You glance around, searching for a place to retreat or a better angle to listen in, but before you can decide, one of the criminals glances back sharply, their eyes scanning the hallway.

“They’re looking this way,” Loki mutters, his voice low and urgent.

Panic shoots through you. There’s no time to retreat, no place to hide. Your mind races, and then—on pure instinct—you grab Loki by the lapels of his suit and pull him toward you.

Before he can protest, your lips press against his, your back hitting the wall as you lean into him. His body stiffens for a split second, but then he catches on. His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers curling slightly as he leans into the kiss, matching your urgency with surprising ease.

Your heart hammers in your chest, not just from the danger but from the sudden, electric sensation of Loki’s mouth on yours. His lips are soft yet commanding, his touch both calculated and possessive as he shifts his body to shield you further from view.

“What in the Nine Realms are you doing?” he whispers against your lips, his tone more intrigued than accusatory.

“Keeping us alive,” you murmur back, your voice barely audible as the footsteps approach.

The targets pass by slowly, their footsteps deliberate. You can feel their gaze sweep over you, but you don’t dare look. Instead, you pour every ounce of focus into the act, your fingers curling into the fabric of Loki’s jacket as you deepen the kiss just enough to sell it.

Loki seems to relish the role, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further. His thumb brushes against your waist, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold.

A voice interrupts the moment, sharp and disapproving. “This is hardly the place for such displays.”

You part from Loki abruptly, your face hot as you turn to face the source of the scolding. One of the gala’s staff members, an older man in a crisp uniform, stands a few feet away, his expression one of polite disapproval.

“My apologies,” you say quickly, straightening your mask and trying to appear appropriately chastised. “We got… carried away.”

Loki, ever the performer, offers a sheepish smile that’s somehow more seductive than apologetic. “Forgive us. My wife and I have a difficult time restraining our passions.”

The staff member huffs, clearly unimpressed. “There are designated areas for such… activities. Keep it off the main floor.”

“Of course,” Loki replies smoothly, his hand still resting at the small of your back. “We’ll be more discreet.”

The staff member mutters something under his breath before walking away, and you exhale a shaky breath, your heart still racing. The targets are gone, having paid you no more than a passing glance. The plan worked.

You glance up at Loki, whose expression is unreadable behind his mask. “That was quick thinking,” he says finally, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It was survival,” you retort, stepping out of his hold and straightening your dress. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He smirks, adjusting his own mask with an air of casual arrogance. “Too late for that, darling. I’m afraid you’ve given me quite a lot to think about.”

You glare at him, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus, Loki. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Ah, but you see,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, “now I’m more motivated than ever to see this mission through. And who knows? Perhaps we’ll need to use that particular tactic again.”

You roll your eyes, brushing past him as you head back toward the main event. But as much as you want to dismiss his words, the lingering warmth of his kiss—and the way your body seemed to respond to him—stays with you, making it harder to focus than you’d like.

Loki follows close behind, his footsteps quiet but his presence impossible to ignore. And though neither of you speaks it aloud, there’s an unspoken awareness between you now—an understanding that something has shifted. Whether that’s a good thing or a dangerous one, only time will tell.

The ride back to the Avengers Tower is quieter than you expect, though tension hangs in the air, thick and unyielding. The mission was a success; you and Loki gathered enough intel to pinpoint the criminals’ next move and their precise location. As Tony pilots the jet, he and Natasha pore over the information, already strategizing for the intervention. Steve listens intently, his expression serious, while Bruce sits stiffly in his seat, keeping his distance from Loki, though the god seems entirely unfazed.

You sit across from Loki, your mask now discarded, but the memory of the gala’s events lingers. Every stolen glance, every near-discovery, and every moment you spent pressed against him still simmers in the back of your mind. You can feel his eyes on you, and though you refuse to look at him, your body betrays you, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Quite the evening,” Loki says suddenly, his voice smooth and low. His tone carries the same playful edge it always does, but there’s something else lurking beneath it—something darker, hungrier.

“Successful, at least,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you glance at him. “We accomplished what we came to do.”

“Indeed,” he says, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Though I dare say the evening held more… unexpected delights than anticipated.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Steve interrupts.

“Focus, you two,” he says sharply. “We’ve got work to do.”

Loki’s smirk widens, but he falls silent, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied air. You cross your arms, willing yourself to ignore him, though the memory of his kiss lingers, stubborn and persistent.

When you return to the Tower, the debriefing is quick and efficient. Tony projects the data you and Loki retrieved, detailing the location of the deal and the criminals’ schedule. The team agrees to strike at dawn, using the element of surprise to their advantage. As plans take shape, you feel a flicker of relief. The night’s tension will soon give way to action, and with any luck, this mission will end successfully.

Once the meeting adjourns, you catch Loki’s eye. “Come on,” you say, gesturing for him to follow. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“As you wish,” he replies, rising gracefully from his seat.

The walk to his quarters is quiet at first. The Tower feels oddly still in the late hours, the hallways dimly lit. You lead the way, your mind spinning as you try to push away the lingering heat of the gala—the dance, the kiss, the way his hands felt on you. Loki walks beside you, his presence magnetic as ever, his gaze lingering on you even when you refuse to meet it.

When you reach his door, you stop, turning to face him. “Goodnight, Loki,” you say, your voice firm but polite.

But before you can step away, he moves closer.

“You’ve been avoiding my eyes all evening,” he says, his voice a low, velvety murmur. “Why is that, darling? Did I do something to unnerve you?”

“No,” you reply quickly, though the catch in your voice betrays you. “I’ve been focused on the mission, that’s all.”

“Liar,” he says softly, his smirk returning. “You’ve been thinking about it. About us. About the way I touched you, held you, kissed you.”

His words send a rush of heat through you, and you take a step back, your back hitting the wall. He follows, closing the distance until he’s mere inches away, his tall frame towering over you.

“Admit it,” he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You felt it, too—the spark, the fire. I see it in your eyes, Y/N. You want me just as much as I want you.”

You open your mouth to protest, but no words come out. Because he’s right. No matter how much you’ve tried to deny it, the truth is undeniable now, burning in every corner of your being.

His hand rises to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into his touch, your resolve crumbling as the need overtakes you. Loki’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he realizes your answer.

With a groan, he closes the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the one at the gala. This kiss is raw, urgent, and unrestrained, a culmination of every unspoken word and every stolen glance. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips move against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

And to his surprise—and yours—you kiss him back with just as much passion. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the moment. The world falls away, leaving only the heat of his touch and the hunger in his kiss.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing hard, your foreheads resting together. Loki’s hands remain on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as if he’s afraid you might pull away.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but tender.

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you press your lips to his again, silencing any words with a kiss that speaks volumes. For now, words don’t matter. All that matters is this—this moment, this connection, this fire that neither of you can deny anymore.

And for the first time, neither of you tries to.

The Tower feels different now, quieter in the wake of the mission’s success. The criminals have been apprehended, their operation dismantled, and SHIELD has taken over for the cleanup. But despite the victory, a strange tension lingers, heavy and unspoken. Fury and Thor are locked in discussions about Loki’s fate, and you and Loki are left waiting in his room, suspended in uncertainty.

The silence between you is unlike any other you’ve shared before. It’s not sharp with banter or charged with playful tension; it’s softer, quieter, tinged with something neither of you is willing to name.

You sit on the edge of the small couch by the window, gazing out at the city lights glittering against the dark sky. Loki leans against the desk, his long fingers idly toying with the edge of a book. For once, he’s still—not prowling or pacing, not filling the room with his restless energy.

“They’re taking their time,” you murmur, your voice cutting through the silence.

“They always do,” Loki replies, though his tone lacks its usual sarcasm.

You glance at him, studying his profile. He looks calm, almost serene, but you’ve spent enough time with him to see through the mask. The faint furrow in his brow, the tension in his jaw, the way his hands grip the book just a little too tightly—they all betray him.

“They’ll make the right decision,” you say softly, more to yourself than to him.

He scoffs lightly but doesn’t look at you. “The right decision,” he repeats, the words laced with bitterness. “That depends entirely on who is defining it.”

You sigh, standing and moving closer to him. “Loki, you helped. You could’ve run at any point during this mission, but you didn’t. That has to count for something.”

His lips twist into a faint smirk, though there’s no humor in it. “And do you think that will sway Fury or my brother? Do you think they’ll forget what I’ve done? The chaos, the destruction?”

“They don’t have to forget,” you say, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “But they can see that you’re not the same person who attacked New York. You’ve changed, Loki.”

His gaze finally lifts to meet yours, and for a moment, something raw flashes in his eyes—something vulnerable and uncertain. “Have I?”

You place your hand over his, stilling his restless movements. “Yes. You have. I see it. And if they can’t, then that’s their failure, not yours.”

The room falls into silence again, but this time, it feels different. Loki’s hand shifts beneath yours, his fingers curling around yours as he exhales slowly.

“What do you think they’ll decide?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But whatever happens, we’ll face it. Together.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, the mask falls away entirely. You see the man beneath—the uncertainty, the fear, the hope he doesn’t dare acknowledge.

“You say that as if you’ll still be by my side when this is over,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t hesitate. “I will be.”

His hand tightens on yours, his eyes holding yours as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, without warning, he pulls you closer, his other hand rising to cradle your face.

“If this is to be the last time we’re alone,” he says, his voice trembling slightly, “then let it be a moment worth remembering.”

Your heart aches at the words, at the vulnerability he’s showing. But you don’t argue. Instead, you lean into him, closing the gap between you.

The kiss is different this time. It’s not urgent or hungry but slow and lingering, filled with a quiet desperation. His lips move against yours as if savoring every second, every touch, every taste. His hands are gentle, one cradling your cheek while the other rests on your waist, anchoring you to him.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he holds you like you’re something fragile and precious, in the way his touch feels like both a promise and a farewell.

When you finally part, your foreheads rest together, and the world outside feels impossibly far away.

“No matter what they decide,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly, “you’re not alone. You never will be.”

For a long moment, Loki doesn’t speak. Then he nods, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he closes his eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the words so quiet you almost miss them.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the world outside fade away. For now, there’s no SHIELD, no judgment, no uncertain future. There’s only this—this moment, this connection, this fragile yet unbreakable bond.

And for now, that’s enough.

The knock at the door comes like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile stillness you and Loki have wrapped yourselves in. You tense in his arms, and his grip on you tightens briefly before he lets you go, stepping back as though putting distance between you is the only way to shield himself from what’s coming.

You take a deep breath and move to answer the door, Loki trailing behind you. When you open it, you’re greeted by the imposing figures of Nick Fury and Thor. Fury’s face is unreadable, his single eye piercing as it moves between you and Loki. Thor’s expression is graver than you’ve ever seen it, a heaviness in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“May we come in?” Fury asks, his voice clipped.

You nod, stepping aside to let them enter. Loki lingers near the window, his posture deceptively casual as he leans against the wall. But you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curl faintly against his sides.

Fury and Thor take positions near the center of the room, both of them standing tall and commanding. Thor’s gaze lingers on Loki, a mix of concern and judgment flashing across his face.

“We’ve reached a decision,” Fury begins, his tone as sharp as ever. “It wasn’t an easy one, considering everything Loki has done in the past and the risks he poses in the future.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you glance at Loki. He’s staring at Fury now, his expression a careful mask of indifference.

“Loki Laufeyson,” Thor says, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Your actions during this mission have proven that you are capable of aiding Midgard without causing harm. However, they do not erase the destruction you have wrought.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “How magnanimous of you, brother. Do get to the point.”

Thor’s jaw tightens, but he presses on. “You will not be returned to Asgard’s dungeons. Instead, you will remain here, under the supervision of SHIELD and the Avengers. Your movements will be restricted, and any deviation from the terms of your parole will result in severe consequences.”

Fury nods. “Think of it as probation. You step out of line, you’re done. No exceptions.”

You exhale a shaky breath, relief flooding through you despite the harshness of their words. Loki isn’t going back to Asgard’s prison. He isn’t being taken away.

Loki, however, seems less than impressed. “So, I am to be your prisoner still, but with a longer leash?”

“Consider it an opportunity,” Thor says, his tone softening slightly. “To prove that you are more than your past mistakes.”

Loki’s smirk fades, and for a moment, something unreadable flashes in his eyes. He looks away, his gaze drifting to the window.

“And what role do I play in this… probation?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“You’ll assist the Avengers as needed,” Fury says bluntly. “Your skills are… useful, when not being used to destroy things.”

“Charming,” Loki mutters.

Fury ignores the comment, turning his attention to you. “As for you, Y/N, you’ll remain his primary handler. You’ve proven capable of keeping him in check, and frankly, you’re the only one he seems remotely willing to listen to.”

The weight of the responsibility settles over you, but you nod firmly. “Understood.”

Thor steps forward then, his gaze fixed on Loki. “Do not squander this chance, brother. It may be the only one you are given.”

Loki meets his gaze, his expression unreadable. “I’ll endeavor not to disappoint you, Thor.”

The words are polite, but there’s a sharpness to them, a bitterness that hasn’t faded. Thor watches him for a moment longer before nodding and turning to leave. Fury follows, but not before giving you a pointed look.

“Keep him in line,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him.

The room falls into silence again, heavier now than before. You turn to Loki, who remains by the window, his back to you.

“Well,” he says finally, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “It seems I’m to be your ward indefinitely. I hope you’re prepared for the burden.”

You take a step closer, your heart aching at the undercurrent of vulnerability in his tone. “Loki… this is a second chance. They didn’t have to give you that.”

He turns to face you, his expression guarded. “A second chance to serve as their pet sorcerer, you mean. To be tolerated, not trusted.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, moving closer still. “It’s a chance to prove them wrong. To show them who you really are.”

“And who is that, Y/N?” he asks, his voice dropping. “Who do you think I really am?”

You hesitate, your throat tightening as you search for the right words. “I think you’re someone who’s been hurt, someone who’s made mistakes, but someone who’s still capable of doing good. Of being… more.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. Then, to your surprise, he chuckles—a quiet, almost bitter sound.

“You are a strange woman, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head. “But perhaps that’s what I need.”

You smile faintly, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’ll never have to face this alone, Loki. Not as long as I’m here.”

He gazes at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, he lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re maddening, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low and tender.

“Then we’re even,” you reply, your lips quirking into a faint smile.

For the first time that night, his smirk softens into something more genuine. And as he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, the weight of the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 4

Writer's Note: Peoples - thank you all so much for the support. It has been really endearing. Forever grateful. Please accept my apologies if I have missed someone off the tag list! I'm finding it hard to navigate the world of tumblr, so I ask you to please be patient with me! Sending all the love, as per X

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear (nothing descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Rudely awakened by Alba opening the curtains allowing the morning’s light filter through, Aurelia groaned as she stretched out her weary body.

“Good morning My Lady. I hope and trust that you slept well?” Alba asked her.

“Yes, thank you. I fear I have a lot to accomplish today. I am to meet with a palace planner?” Aurelia responded. Tearing away from the curtains, Alba took to tidying the linens which Aurelia had just risen from. “Yes, My Lady, that is why I have fetched you. They are waiting in the planning room of the palace. Let us get you washed and changed, and take you to meet them.”

Aurelia tread to a new part of the palace which she was yet to encounter. As she approached the room she could hear raised male voices, Alba reached forward to knock to which she was greeted with speedily opening doors, and two extremely contrasting figures standing behind. One was extremely tall and thin, meanwhile the other was short and rather plump.

“My oh my, Lady Aurelia. The Emperor has chosen well. Please you Highness, please come and sit and let us discuss.” The taller of the two elated as Aurelia thought it was much too early in the morning to be this chirpy.

She sat on the beautifully embroidered cushion which padded the heavy wooden hair, dress catching the fine wind as she lowered herself down. The pair looked at her in awe, there was something so simple, yet breathtaking about her. They knew of the Emperor’s way, particularly his brother and prayed to the gods that they would be kind to this innocent child.

“My Lady, allow us to introduce ourselves, my name is Decimus, chief textile co-ordinator here at the palace, and this is Faunus, my handmaiden.” the taller of the two joked. Faunus turned in fake-disgust, “As if! I think you’ll come to find dear Lady Aurelia that Decimus is the lesser important of the two of us… I am the chief seamster, I am responsible for most gowns in the palace, although I do have my minions. I trust and pray you like our creations which you have seen so far, like what you have on you now.”

Aurelia appreciated the pair’s light-heartedness. It was soothing in an environment which seemed so hostile or ‘egg-shell’ like. She giggled in response to them, “It is a pleasure to meet the both of you, and yes, thank you for your kind creations and alterations; they have been nothing slight of spectacular.” The pair nodded with Decimus starting, “Ma’am, shall we begin the planning? We have much to accomplish today as we have a meeting with Emperor Geta this afternoon to go over our designs.” Aurelia nodded and so the planning began.

The first item for discussion, and arguably the most important, the wedding gown. They started off with the overall shape of the dress. The dress flowed at the bottom, with an almost small pleat right round the skirting area. The top half was gathered fabric, which came in two halves covering each breast, leaving a considerable gap between. The plunge made its way right down to where the skirting started. Decimus grabbed fabric he had to hand, and started to pin the dress as he had sketched on the page. Faunus stepped back to admire Aurelia, but looked puzzled “There’s something missing…” Decimus agreed. The pair decided to grab two small gold clasps, and attached one to each shoulder, which left the arm even more exposed. The skirt was then added with a laurel leaf belt to tie the gold on the shoulder in. Aurelia looked at her reflection, almost taken away by the beauty of the dress.

“Does anyone know what the Emperor’s favourite colour is?” she asked inquisitively.

“I believe Ma’am, it is crimson red.”, Faunus drawing a piece of fabric from his collection to show her an example of the colour. Aurelia took it in her hands and created a quick-win shall, spanning across her back, draping over her forearms. The two designers stepped back and sighed, “That’s it. The dress is complete.”

“Now, we must discuss your garments for after the ceremony.” Decimus stated.

“What do you mean? I have my dress, that will suffice all day?” Aurelia asked. Decimus and Faunus looked at one another and burst out laughing – this girl truly was innocent.

“My Lady, upon marrying the Emperor, you are essentially signing yourself over to him. Body and mind. Enjoy your liberty freedoms now, as once you are married, you must obey every word that Emperor Geta mutters.” Faunus explains.

Decimus could see the worry and confusion in Aurelia’s face, so he begins, “Lady Aurelia, let us explain it gentler. Ignore Faunus and his harsh realistic world formalities. When you are married, that later evening, you must celebrate with your new husband. By celebrate, I mean to form your bodily unions and consummate your marriage.”

Aurelia takes a step back and nods, “Ah, yes, right, okay. Erm, yes, we need to ensure I am to please the Emperor, I do not wish to disappoint.” The pair giggled at her awkwardness and began drafting new garments for her to wear.

The rest of the wedding textiles were based around the choices made for the dress, and once all was finalised, Aurelia suddenly felt a huge wave of emotion come over her, breaking down crying instantaneously. Decimus approached the soon-to-be Empress, asking “My Lady, what ever is the matter? Is there something not to your liking?”

Aurelia sniffled, “People, please forgive my outburst. It’s just that I miss home and my family. I would love for my mother to be here to help me make these decisions, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”

The duo felt a pang of deep sadness for the young girl. She had been thrust into this position through no fault nor want of her own, and it must be an extremely hard transition. Faunus began, “My Lady, I’m sure your family will be cordially invited to the wedding? Have you asked the Emperor?” Aurelia shook her head, “No, the Emperor and I haven’t discussed really anything as of yet.” Faunus sighs, “My Lady, at our review I will plant the seed. Please do not feel such sadness, you will be best looked after here.”

Aurelia sighs and goes back to planning for what should be the happiest day of her life.

***********************************************************************

She left and retired to her quarters, while she knew the meeting was going on with Geta. She took to sitting on one of the many reading windows scattered throughout the main hall; a book on a love which seemed unrealistic at the start, which blossomed into something so strong that it could conquer for the ages to come. How ironic, she thought. Alba burst in through the doors in a mild panic, “My Lady, Emperor Geta wishes your presence in the courtyard to go for a walk.” Aurelia rises from her perch, leaving her book in its place.

She made her way down the vast hallway, and saw a tall figure at the end. She knew from the stature it was him, she bowed gently at him on approach, to which he offered his arm in which for her to link as they made their way into the courtyard.

The walk was silent, each taking in their surroundings and any activity they could hear going on. Geta broke the silence, “I spoke with Decimus and Faunus. They showed me the designs.” Aurelia looked at him through her long, dark lashes. “For a commoner, you have great taste. There were no amendments, all is to go as you planned.”

“Thank you, my Emperor.”

Geta groaned leaving Aurelia with a degree of fear, what did she do wrong? “Aurelia, what did I tell you last night? When we’re together and others are not around, it’s just Geta. No need for the pageantry.”

“Sorry Sire. I mean, Geta.” Geta looked at her with fierce eyes, then broke down laughing. He pulled her along as they began to walk once more. She sighed in relief, smiling to herself knowing she made him laugh.

“I appreciated the sentiment with the colour scheme. The pair told me of your desire to include my favourite colour.”

“I thought it only fair, considering it is both of our days.”

Geta hummed in agreement, “It made me realise that the union we have will solidify your loyalty to me and the empire. You will be greatly rewarded for your actions.”

Aurelia thanked him. Bravely, she spoke, “Geta. I wish to include my family at the festivities.” He stopped in his tracks, tensing at the idea. He stared intently at the woman, taking in her puppy-dog eyes, with her hair blowing in the wind. If his brother seen this weakness, he feared he would be ripped off the throne. What was it about her that made him go almost soft in nature?

“Okay.”

Aurelia stepped back in shock, “Do you truly mean it?”

“Yes. Prepare the letter, I will get one of the guards to deliver it.”

“Oh Geta, thank you!” Out of instinct, she jumped up and hugged the Emperor. He froze at the prospect of such tactile affection. Aurelia stepped back, and bowed her head, “Please forgive me for my outburst, it was unacceptable. I am sorry.”

Geta cleared his throat and took her arm once more, saying nothing but walking toward the direction of the living quarters once more. He dare not show the electricity that ran through him when she hugged him. That was weakness, and weakness? In his game? Costs lives.

***********************************************************************

Aurelia makes her way back to her quarters, and grabs her writing apparatus. She begins to pen a letter to her family;

“Dearest Mater, Pater, Evander and Claudius I hope this letter finds you all well.

I am writing to inform you that Emperor Geta and I request your presence at our marriage ceremony this coming Dies Vernes.

I would also like to affirm that I am well, and the palace life is treating me kind.

Dearest family, I wish only for your presence and kind support on this day.

Your loving daughter and sister, Aurelia”

She only wished could be more transparent of the occurrences, she feared a guard or other could see her writing so she felt it best to keep all neutral. Walking out of her quarters, she was met with a guard who was readily willing to accept her letter and deliver to her family. She curtly nodded and thanked the guard and sent him on his way.

Sighing she watched the guard walk down the hallway with authority, praying her family would see her request through.

[5-puthyyy]

You're Looking A Little Green

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 5k

Summary:

Rio waits a moment, sniffing deeply then sighing out and nuzzling her nose to Agatha’s skin. Gods, she missed this scent of dark Magick, of lavender and honey, of maple trees and something so distinctly Agatha. “Tell me you want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tightens, though her head movement opens up more of her neck for Rio. “I don’t.”

The Green Witch chuckles, her soft lips brushing against Agatha’s sensitive skin. “Ah, ah, ah…what did I just say? No lies,” Rio’s hand digs into the curve of Agatha’s hip, “Tell me you want me…and not her.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Rio's drawn to the powerful Magick of the hex and finds Agatha flirting with a powerful witch that isn't her. I cannot be blamed for the filth that follows

WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT, CHOKING + BLOODPLAY + BREATHPLAY

Rio Vidal did not feel. She simply came into existence, filled with a singular purpose to collect the lost souls of the dead. Death was not made to feel. But, Gods, if anyone were to challenge the very rules of the universe, to disrupt the natural order of all things? Of course it would be Agatha Harkness. Who else?

She has to call it love because Agatha’s love is all she has ever known. It is cruel and gentle, angry and serene, it is wicked and sinister and everything in between. And Rio could not get enough of it, enough of her torturous little witch. It was one thing to use the Darkhold and hide from Death. Besides, she enjoyed the chase, the hunt, being the predator running after its prey. But what she could not stand was this.

Rio was drawn to the raw, chaotic magic of this place – what kind of all-powerful Green Witch would she be if she could not sense it? – and was unsurprised to see Agatha had found her way here too. Her clever girl could always sniff out power, always greedily eager to take as much as she could.

“Ridiculous,” Rio scoffs quietly, watching through the window of Wanda’s living room. She could do nothing but watch, the anger in her belly brewing into something even darker, dangerous, twisted and ugly. Jealousy.

That is one of the many emotions she had not felt until Agatha and she can wholeheartedly say it is the absolute worst one. Her black heart can stand heartache, can stand betrayal, can stand the endless torture of Agatha’s glare of hatred because those feelings had to come from somewhere. It has been a form of comfort to know after all these centuries she can still affect her witch, still make her feel, just as she makes Rio feel.

Jealousy is ugly. It makes her feel ugly, inside. It takes a blow at her security and makes her question herself, whether she is good enough for Agatha, whether the witch has decided to move on from her to someone solid, something real, something tangible and within her grasp. It is what she deserves, after all. Despite the playfulness, the chase, the books of history the two have together, Rio could never shake off the belief that Agatha will never truly want her for all she is. She cannot. Agatha hates that she wants Death, and that hatred will fester until there is nothing left. No love, no hate, just indifference.

“Do you really?” Rio recalls the first time Agatha told her how she felt for her, the two of them having floated around each other for weeks, a youthful, anxious mess, “Do you really love me, Agatha? Me?” Rio asked, voice shaking, hands trembling as she held Agatha’s blushing cheeks.

The witch sighed, a sound deep and upsetting that struck Rio uncomfortably. “I fear I do.” 

Fear. She feared it, hated it, did not want to feel what she felt. And Rio? Rio had not wanted a single thing since the beginning of time until she looked into Agatha’s eyes and decided she could not go on without having her. She loved her, wanted to be consumed by her, felt nothing but her.

It wasn’t until…until Nicky that it went terribly wrong and Rio saw their relationship for what it was. Agatha could not force her feelings to disappear, so she did, and she made it perfectly clear that she did not want Rio. But with their feud and many fights that inevitably led to Agatha’s teeth biting her lip until they tasted like copper, Rio realised that Agatha needed her. And Agatha hated Rio for it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rio is pulled out of her dark thoughts by an angry voice she cannot help but smile widely at.

“Hello, my love,” She greets Agatha smoothly, huffing as the angry woman grabs her by the arm and guides her across the lawn, around another house, and then into the quiet privacy of her four walls, “Hmm,” Rio takes in a deep breath of relief, her bones feeling more at ease in Agatha’s home. She can feel the thrum of her lover’s Magick in here, “I like it here. It tastes like you.”

Agatha grunts angrily, shoving a fist against Rio’s chest as the Green Witch licks at the air with wild and wide eyes. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? It is so on-brand for you to show up here and ruin everything for me.”

A sinister smirk splits across Death’s face. “Now why would I sit back and let you have all the fun?”

Agatha grunts yet again, this time stepping towards Death with a raised pointer finger. “This is more than just fun, Vidal, this could be–The power she has is–You know what she is. You can sense her Magick. This could change everything for me,” Agatha stutters her way through the sentence, clearly taking a more calculated route against this witch. Rio can see how serious this is to her, and she honestly had no plans to ruin it. All she wanted was to see her.

With soft eyes, Rio steps forward, her fingers daring to brush down Agatha’s jaw. “You are all I sense. Your Magick is all I ever want to taste.”

Agatha sucks in a sharp breath at the confession, never quiet growing used to Rio’s blunt nature. There are never any lies here, never a nervous thought that blocks the truth from tumbling out of her mouth. The honesty was always refreshing. But in moments like this, all it does is make Agatha want to kiss her until Death herserlf needs a breath of air to stay alive.

“Not now, Vidal,” Agatha replies coldly, forcing her eyes away from Rio’s impossibly sad ones. The power those eyes have had over her…

“Why don’t you want me?” Rio asks with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest, in typical Rio-fasion.

Agatha can’t help but scoff. “What is wrong with you?”

Rio’s face suddenly hardens in realisation, forcing distance between them as she steps back towards the door. “Do you want her? Is that it?” Rio doesn’t know why she asked. The very idea of answer that says to ‘yes’ has her first imagining she has insides and those insides are twisting like snakes.

“I want her power.”

At that, Rio growls a terrifying noise, deep and dark. “You want her! I saw the way you looked at her in there, Agatha,” She accuses, unable to shift the images out of her head. She watched them through the window: she cannot forget Agatha’s easy smile, so carefree and playful; the light touch of Wanda’s hand brushing Agatha’s hand; the blush tinting Agatha’s cheek.

Her witch suddenly smiles knowingly, eyes low as she tilts her head. “Oh, honey…” she mumbles in fake sympathy, holding Rio’s chin in her hand, “You’re looking a little green,” she spits out, her hold tightening.

Rio gulps, always being one to submit to that storm in Agatha’s deep blue eyes. “Well, I am the Green Witch,” she mutters rather weakly, huffing at the flash of amusement reflecting back at her.

“You are.” 

Rio straightens her back. “I am.”

“You’re Death.”

She glares darkly. “I am.”

“Her power is no match for yours.”

Rio growls, teeth snapping at the woman still holding her chin like a pup. “It’s not.”

Agatha raises a brow “No?” she says infantalisingly. 

“No being is more powerful than me,” Rio declares, flipping the two of them around.

Agatha gasps as her back is pushed against the front door. “So act like it,” she demands, raising a leg until her thigh is pressed against Rio’s, “Sulking at me, pouting like a sad puppy…” Agatha pouts mockingly, cackling at Rio’s huff and glare, “Here I was thinking you couldn’t get more pathetic chasing me around when I clearly don’t want to be found.”

“Oh yeah?” Rio’s eyes flick to the basement where she knows Ralph’s dead body is, “Explain him,” she asks with a smirk. This has always been their game. Kill, collect, fuck, over and over again, because that is the only line of intimacy Agatha is comfortable with, all Rio can take.

“I kill because I want to, not because I want you.”

Rio can see the quiver of her lip, the twitch of her brow. It’s subtle but she knows her witch by now. “Hmm…” she hums before leaning in to breath against Agatha’s ear, “Okay, Agatha. Have it your way. Be in control.” 

Agatha wavers at this, suddenly shoving Rio back. “I am,” she defends herself, marching off to the kitchen.

Rio follows, keeping enough distance to make Agatha uncomfortable. She knows how much her witch hates being observed. “Sure you are.”

Agatha spills the water she tries to pour into a glass, grunting in frustration as she slams her fist against the countertop. “Are you that jealous?” She snaps her head to Rio, turning on the attack, “God, you’re so desperate you need to tell yourself this lie to fuel that delusion in your head. I do not kill for you, Rio. I have not killed for you in deca–”

“Do you remember the first time?” Rio interrupts her casually, leaning against the fridge door, “You were so nervous to present me with that old witch’s soul. A gift, you said, remember? For me…” Rio’s words slip out like honey, sultry and smooth, “Courting Lady Death herself, you said.”

Agatha scoffs, arms crossing over her chest. “I say a lot of things.”

“And not a single lie. Not to me,” Rio manages to lower her voice even more, almost down to a whisper. The husk is something Agatha always struggled to resist, but she does her very best to deflect.

“How would you know?” Agatha snaps defensively but Rio sees right through her.

“Hmm,” she hummed, stepping close enough for her nose to brush against the back of Agatha’s pale neck, “Tell me.”

Agatha sucks in a breath. “Tell you what?” she whispers back, nails digging into her palms as a last resort, screaming inwardly to keep her hands to herself.

Rio waits a moment, sniffing deeply then sighing out and nuzzling her nose to Agatha’s skin. Gods, she missed this scent of dark Magick, of lavender and honey, of maple trees and something so distinctly Agatha. “Tell me you want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tightens, though her head movement opens up more of her neck for Rio. “I don’t.”

The Green Witch chuckles, her soft lips brushing against Agatha’s sensitive skin. “Ah, ah, ah…what did I just say? No lies,” Rio’s hand digs into the curve of Agatha’s hip, “Tell me you want me…and not her.”

At those words, Agatha allows one moment. Just one moment of vulnerability where she holds Rio’s freezing cheek in her hand, lets Death lean into her touch. She sheds a cold layer away from her harsh eyes, the last cloud of the storm fading to bring forth the Sun. Rio takes it all in, soaks as much of Agatha as she can before the inevitable goodbye.

“Show me,” Agatha says instead, breaking the silence as she pulls Rio’s face close to hers, “Show me why I should want you.”

Rio has never been one to back down from a challenge; a soft smirk stretches her lips before she finally attaches their lips together. She can count the exact amount of hours, weeks, years since their last kiss. Agatha was in her leather phase then, her hair curled with a rebellious purple streak. Each first kiss ignites that same fire within her, just like the first time they ever kissed all those centuries ago. 

“I will never tire of kiss–”

Agatha rolls her eyes at Rio’s interruption. “None of that today. You want to be jealous? Show me just how possessive you can get.”

Rio frowns at this, brushing her nose against Agatha’s softly. She misses her dearly, so intensely that her hollow chest aches from being far from her.

Agatha can see the conflict written over Rio’s face and knows the one thing she can say to flip that switch. With a wicked smirk, she shoves Rio’s chest again hard enough for her to stumble back.

“If you can’t, I’m sure Wanda wouldn’t mind helping her neighbo–”

Before she could even finish, Rio’s hand gripped her neck and shoved her against the fridge. A filthy moan escaped her throat before she could control it, which would typically please Rio but the Green Witch could see nothing but red at this moment. 

“Say her name again, Agatha. Go on.” Rio plays with her prey, fingers tightening their grip as her other hand dug painfully into Agatha’s side.

“Mmm, why, I’m tempted, so tempted,” the witch teases, chuckling darkly with purple swirls in her eyes, still trying to take back a little control, “If you don’t fuck me hard enough, I may even think about her.”

Rio slams her lips to Agatha’s in a brutal, angry kiss. She shoves her invading tongue into the witch’s gasping mouth with no warning, attacking, claiming, swiping every surface she can. Every action screams possessiveness; she needs Agatha to know who she belongs to, who she will always belong to.

Nails scratch along Agatha’s stomach as she pulls her shirt up, lifting until it’s covering her face. Before Agatha can take it off, Rio’s lips are already attacking her new skin. She mouths at the top of her full breasts still covered by a forest-green lacy bra.

“Wow,” Rio suddenly chuckles, pulling the strap with her teeth until it snaps back against Agatha’s reddening skin, “You wore this for me. You knew I was coming the moment you killed that man, didn’t you?”

Agatha huffs, finally dragging her shirt over her head, her hair a dishevelled nest which makes her look even more alluring. “Oh, you wish,” she denies, but her eyes say otherwise, refusing to hold contact with Rio’s for more than a second.

The Green Witch remains consistent in her gaze, twisting her head to catch Agatha out in her movements. “You expect me to believe you just happened to be wearing my favourite colour?”

“It happens to be Wan–” Agatha’s words are swallowed up by Rio’s tongue again, this time paired with hands that rip her bra to the ground and immediately squeeze as if claiming her new territory. Agatha knows Rio will take her right then and there if she wanted to, but she was still wary of this sitcom reality and how much of this Wanda can really see. She did place her runes very carefully but that witch’s power is unimaginable chaos. “Maybe we should–”

“Shut up,” Rio’s tone drips with authority as she pinches Agatha’s hard bud. Her face flickers to her true form for a moment, the dangerous look being enough to send a quick heat between Agatha’s legs.

Agatha utters no other word, just a frustrated groan at herself for reacting this way to Rio. It’s a hopeless feeling knowing there was nothing that made her weak but her.

“Spread them.”

Agatha clenches her jaw as she reluctantly spreads her legs apart. Rio sends a pleased smirk her way, those chocolate eyes darkened with desire.

“Good girl.”

Agatha bites her bottom lip hard to suppress the downright pathetic moan, but a whine slips out widening Rio’s already cocky smile. The embarrassed witch turns her head away but Rio forces it back with a flick of her fingers, black and green tendrils of Magick finally making an appearance.

Runes won’t work on her. Agatha found that one out the hard way a few decades ago, a rookie mistake which ended with Agatha tied in the air, high and not-so-dry. But that’s a story for another time.

Agatha arches her back into the touch, making an executive decision that if she is to play with Rio, she will be the one manipulating Death into doing what she wants. “I’m always good for you, sweetheart. Why don’t you feel how good I am?” Agatha husks seductively, biting her bottom lip in the way she knows drives Rio to madness.

Death pants at the shift, feeling Agatha spread her legs further apart, begging for her touch. “Wicked…” Rio mumbles as she buries her face in Agatha’s chest right between her breasts. The woman is quick to push them together, using herself to gently push Rio over the edge of control. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” Rio moans into her chest, licking, biting, sucking as she claims her. It only takes a moment for her hand to leave Agatha’s hip and slither between her legs. She teases over the lace, both of them sighing at the first touch.

“That’s right, baby, feel me, take me,” Agatha chants and pants, covering Rio’s hand with one of hers. The latter presses her thumb to Agatha’s clit, leaning back up to swallow her gasp. They kiss languidly as she lazily trails her thumb up and down, feeling Agatha get wetter by the second as their tongues glide together. Gods, she loves kissing this woman. Kissing Agatha is the closest Rio will ever get to Heaven.

Soon enough, though, Agatha’s patience runs thin and she shoves her own panties to the side. Rio feels that slickness on her fingers immediately, growling into Agatha’s lips. She bites at her wicked witch’s bottom lip once in punishment before descending to her knees.

Agatha tries to resist making a comment, really, she uses all her willpower. But Rio looks up at her with such adoration, eyes as wide as a puppy’s. It’s so pathetically cute.

“I knew you’d end up on your knees for me. You always do,” she tries to soften the blow with a gentle finger brushing the hair out of Rio’s eyes, but it does nothing to soothe the now angry witch. Suddenly, Agatha’s hands fly up, wrists bound against the fridge with Magick. “Come on, play fair.”

“You want to talk about fair?” Rio huffs, shaking her head as she decides not to tread on this topic. Instead, she focuses on the glistening mess in front of her. She drags Agatha’s panties to the floor, practically salivating by the time she’s done. Though she wants nothing more than to have that delicate slick on her tongue, she needs to punish Agatha, needs to make her want her, make her beg.

Rio starts slow with a wet, delicate kiss to the inside of Agatha’s thigh. It immediately quivers at the touch, Agatha attempting to spread her legs further to entice the tortuous witch into giving her what she wants. But Rio remains strong, grounding herself with the taste of Agatha’s slick that dripped down to her thighs. She glides her tongue over, moaning at the taste, circling her skin, painting out her name over and over again. The moment Agatha growls in frustration, Rio’s there to bite down hard enough to bruise, silencing the witch. It’s a warning, a shout to be patient or else.

“Will you be good for me?” Rio asks as she looks up, her eyes dilated and high on the power she has over Agatha.

“I thought you called me a good girl,” Agatha rebuttals, voice trembling slightly though still filled with sass.

Rio pretends to contemplate for a moment. “I suppose I did. But I think a real good girl would beg. Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart?”

Agatha doesn’t bother hiding her reaction to this, bursting out into laughter at the audacity. Her? Beg? She hasn’t begged for Rio since before– “No.”

Rio lifts a brow, fingers tightening around Agatha’s thigh. “No?” Agatha stands firm in her answer, a seriousness in her eyes that Rio can’t help but shake her head at. Her stubborn little witch. “Fine, Agatha. Have it your way.”

The first swipe of her tongue transports Agatha to another fucking universe. Blue eyes immediately disappear into her skull; her heart catches up in her throat at the sensation; her legs lose all control and she’s sure she’d be on the ground if it weren’t for the Magick binding her wrists. She has always been loud, proudly so, and this is no different. Screw Wanda. Let her hear.

“Fuck, yes, fucking finally,” she whines, moans filthily, rolling her hips to the rhythm Rio sets.

Fuck control, Rio thinks. Fuck it all; this is real power. Having Agatha like this, hearing her like this, being the one to string these sounds out of her. This is fucking power.

She slides her tongue expertly through Agatha’s folds, circling her clit but refusing to touch it yet. She teases as much as she can, feeling gush after gush of wetness and bringing her tongue back down to lick up as much as she can. Her tongue traces along Agatha’s entrance, teasing for a moment, waiting, waiting…

“Rio,”

Her name. Her actual name, not Vidal, not Death, not sweetheart or baby or whatever diversion. Rio.

Without a second to waste, she thrusts her tongue up, immediately moaning at the throb of Agatha’s tight, wet walls.

“Rio, fuck, oh fuck, don’t you dare stop,” her goddess of a witch moans above her and Rio looks up with eyes filled with worship. What she would do to this woman, for this woman, what she had already done. She will spend eternity wanting nothing but her.

Rio thrusts, twists, curls her tongue until Agatha is writhing, rolling her hips, begging with her body. She waits until that moment, until she tightens just so, before Rio pulls back completely.

Agatha immediately groans at the feeling, almost predicting it. Her groan twists into a frustrated, angry scream, face and cheeks red, eyes wild as she glares down. “Fuck you!”

Rio’s eyes darken as she slowly ascends. “Watch your fucking tongue,” she warns, voice low, controlling.

Agatha leans towards the danger. “Why don’t you make me?”

“I think you’ll beg me to make you.”

Agatha laughs at this again, her need to retain control and protect her ego too high. “This again? I’d sooner let you leave me like this than beg for you to–” Her words catch in her throat as soon as she feels something familiar pressed against her thigh. Agatha doesn’t need to look down to know what it is.

“Cat got your tongue?” Rio smirks that fucking smirk, victory already in her eyes. “You know which one it is?”

Agatha gulps, her teeth pressed together hard. Of fucking course she knew which one it was. It’s the only one Rio would use. Dark green, deliciously thick, just long enough to hit that one spot that sends Agatha over Mount Everest, and, the most important part…it’s enchanted.

Rio can feel every little touch.

“You sure you don’t want to beg?” Rio tempts her again, this time adjusting between Agatha’s legs so the length of her strap presses against Agatha’s slick heat. They both grunt at the feeling, their mouths an inch apart.

Agatha breathes in a laugh. “You’ll be the one begging in a minute, hun.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rio pants, starting a slow grind. It was a calculated risk, snapping her for this strap to appear. It drove the both of them mad, Rio already feeling her grip over her self-control loosening. Agatha felt so fucking warm, so wet. Rio’s mind is filled with memories of her heat, nights spent pressed so close together she’s shocked their Magick never somehow merged them into one. She craves that closeness with her again.

Agatha twists her hips as subtly as she can, trying to get it to slip in as Rio distracts herself with dirty thoughts. “Don’t you want to feel me, baby? Don’t you miss it? Miss…me?”

Rio groans, the sound a mix of pain, want, sadness, joy, everything. Agatha makes her feel it all. She pulls back suddenly, eyes wildly pulsing with desire as she looks over Agatha’s marked body.

Agatha recognises that look of possession. “That’s right, sweetheart. If you want me to be yours, all you have to do is take me.”

Rio only had one card left up her sleeve, and it better fucking work because Agatha uses her words to play Rio like a fucking fiddle. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it, and what it was going to get her. Using her bodily strength this time, Rio unbinds Agatha’s wrists and spins her around. Within seconds, the witch is bent over the kitchen island, back arched, legs spread obediently for Rio.

“Shit.”

Rio smirks, immediately dropping a hand to spank a pale cheek. Agatha moans loud and open, greedily pushing her ass back for more. Rio gives her nothing, though, only scraping her nails along pale skin.

“Rio,” Agatha warns through gritted teeth, gasping as Rio teases her with the head of her strap. It presses against her entrance, pushing that tiny bit through before pulling back completely. “Rio!” she scolds, feeling desperation crawl up her throat. She wants to be filled by her so badly, craves it, misses it dearly. It’s always been her darkest, deepest desire, to be taken and used, treated like meat and bones by Lady Death herself. And that fucking witch knows it.

“You know what to say, Agatha. Good girls get what they want.”

Rio teases her strap again, grinding her teeth together to hold back her own moans at the feeling of that wet slick dripping over her head. It’s so simple for Agatha to say one word, one fucking word just so Rio could sink into that heat and never fucking leave. Gods, she loves her stubborn witch.

“Fuck, okay, just fucking fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” Agatha yells out, fingers gripping the edge of the island, turning whiter by the second.

With that, Rio thrusts hard, deep, whimpering at the sudden tightness, moaning with her lover as she screams in pleasure at the invasion. But she stills after that.

Agatha feels so fucking full, hasn’t felt this full in years; it’s exhilarating, it’s endless pleasure and pressure, it’s that maddening stretch that has her panting like she’s in heat. But Rio won’t fucking move. “Move. Fuck, Rio, you can move, baby,” Agatha says, reassures, letting Rio know she doesn’t need a moment of adjustment.

But the Green Witch has outdone herself today with her tricks and self-control. “I don’t think I heard you say it yet,” she husks, chuckling wickedly into Agatha’s ear as she presses up against her. Her hips are too close to Agatha’s for the witch’s hip movements to do anything and it has her almost sobbing in frustration.

“Rio,” she pleads, her tone sounding far less controlled, the sass almost gone completely. 

“You have two choices, my love,” Rio risks her choice of words, knowing so when Agatha freezes completely, “You can either say the magic word now, or I can fuck you until you’re screaming and leave you just as you’re about to–”

“Please,” Agatha breathes out, so soft Rio almost misses it. Rio freezes, not expecting Agatha to give in that easily. But Agatha takes her lack of response as a want for more, and she can’t risk the second option. She can’t. “Rio, please, I…I need you, my love.”

My love. Love, love, love…

Rio breathes out shakily, failing at shoving the feeling inside her chest away. She embraces it instead, gripping Agatha’s hips with strong, controlling hands. “I got you,” she whispers soothingly, pulling her hips back, groaning at the delicious drag of those tight, wet walls. “I got you, baby.”

Agatha won’t sob, she won’t, but she’ll shake, and she’ll whimper and whine, and she’ll bite down on her hand so fucking hard she draws blood. She lets her body go, trusting Rio’s hands to hold her, to control her hips, her pleasure. It feels like she’s floating as Rio rolls her hips over and over again, moaning behind her, whispering soft praises. It must be Magick, she thinks, to feel this way. To feel so free yet controlled at once.

She moans greedily at every thrust, begging for Rio to go, “Harder, fuck, please,” and “Faster, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop,” as she’s pushed closer and closer to the edge. She was close enough with Rio’s tongue inside, but this? Being filled and stretched to her limits, and hearing Rio’s loud, untamed moans of pleasure behind her knowing she can feel every inch of Agatha wrapped around her soul? Nothing could beat this feeling.

“Tell me,” Rio suddenly demands, her mouth to Agatha’s ear, panting filthily, biting on her earlobe. “Fucking tell me, Agatha,” she growls into her ear, teeth sinking into her neck, tongue licking the blood, lips sucking until she’s marked bright and red. 

Without another thought in her head, Agatha pants as she’s pushed back and forth by Rio’s hardening thrusts. “I want you.”

“Again,” Rio demands, groaning as Agatha’s walls tighten at the authority in her tone.

She’s weightless, her mind knowing nothing but Rio, her body feeling nothing but Rio; Rio’s strap buried deep inside her, stretching her walls so painfully good; Rio’s nipples, hard as they brush against her back; Rio’s hand suddenly creeping up and around, gripping her throat giving her that thrill of danger. All she can taste is Rio on her tongue, Rio’s Magick, Rio’s hot breath against her neck, can smell the scent of death and soil, fresh grass and the smallest hint of jasmine. She knows with every bone in her body that she belongs to Rio and she always will. She cannot escape Death.

“I want you,” she pants, her tone leaving no room for doubt, “I want you, Rio, I want you, only you, always you, I want–” She’s unsure if she can’t speak because of the intense wave of pleasure that hits her when Rio’s other hand sneaks between her legs and thumbs at her clit, or if the pressure of Rio’s grip around her back took her breath away. All she knows is Rio.

The ringing in her ear doesn’t cease as her eyes roll to the back of her head, body shaking, trembling as Rio ignores her, continues thrusting as hard and fast she can. In Agatha’s haze of pleasure, she realises Rio’s using her to chase her own high and that only pushes Agatha over the edge again. She can’t stop falling, can’t stop the guttural, almost animalistic moans from echoing in the space. The only thing that grounds her is Rio’s safe hands, Rio’s erratic, high moans as she thrusts faster and faster until her hips still, pressed to the brim inside Agatha’s pulsing walls. 

Her eyes close at some point. She’s still in the same position, Rio’s still buried deep inside her. But she’s holding her, still, face pressed into the back of her neck as her body shakes gently. She’s crying, Agatha realises. And she blames this moment of vulnerability for the tight, sad feeling in her chest at the sound. She knows how badly her love wants to be with her, knows how much it is killing her to be apart, knows of the torturous pain.

Agatha sighs, pressing her cheek to the cold marble of the island. 

Death comes for us all. 

Well…she comes for Agatha the most.

masterlist + guidelines

this is so filthy im embarassed anyway

[bunnys-kisses]

crying about how people sent you homophobic and transphobic slurs but you were calling women bitches and when i sent you that you didnt answer. i know you wont answer this either but you're such a hypocrite. there was nothing wrong when you A GUY calling women BITCHES but when women gave the same energy to you by calling you slurs just like you did, you're starting to crying about them. go on answer this but i know you wont.

hey sweetheart. i don't know if this is some weird rage bait, so i'm not going to react with hate or malice. i'm not even going to call you the b-word that you so much hate so much.

fair, you got me. maybe i shouldn't have the b-word so much when referring to the skinny ladies of formula one fan fiction. what started out as a little jest went a little too far. but by fucking god get a grip, honey, me calling skinny women b-words in a post critiquing how some of ya'll can't think outside the box isn't an excuse to have mask-off queerphobia. and the fact that you think having someone call me a faggot or a tranny is acceptable says more about your character than mine. the fact that you've messages me twice about this and are baiting for some kind of response is honestly pathetic. and doesn't help the "formula one is a toxic fandom" allegations. i made a post that wasn't supposed to be taken serious that some of ya'll took too serious so i now have to take it serious. because hate to break it to ya sweetheart, being called a faggot so many times by many different little anon trolls like you is a bit annoying. i wasn't crying or anything, just find it reallllly fucking annoying. because you little anons are, can't even get off of it to address me or even address the contents of my post.

i'm sorry that you're so hung-up over a word rather than the contents of my post. that it's not fair to other groups that social media aus are kind of bland. and you can't think of an proper response as to why that is happening so you're basically white knuckling the use of the b-word. i bet you were chomping at the bit, but just like social media aus you couldn't think of a creative way to call me a queerphobic slur. so instead you're staked outside my inbox demanding a response for an issue that had already passed. honestly i'm honoured that you want me to talk to you so badly, to know whyyyy i said those words. and honestly, it was a just a little laugh. a little jest as i said. so i got one better for you anon, you're a hateful. you're crude. you're honestly annoying. but you're not a "b-word" so at least there's that. alright?

i just hope that outside the information highway and tumblr.com, you're a little more compassionate towards your queer friends (if you have any, you seem like you're not fun at parties) or do you pick apart anytime they said something off-colour in order to make yourself the more oppressed person in the room? i hope you have a fantastic start to your weekend and since you love my words so much, why don't you read a few of my fan fics on the way out <3

[in-the-multiverse]

I love soundtrack so here’s a sample of the ossha arc divided by character themes

I tried finding stuff that was purely instrumental and fit the vibe of everyone involved. Below the cut are links to the music and my explanation for them. Also! These are just my interpretation. If you have other music that you feel fits the characters, please share! I’d love to hear them :D

[OSSHA Avid] - Cancion by Bryan Dunne - it’s linked to the instrumental break. Ignore the lyrics they’ve got nothing to do with this. I dug around for other music with a similar sound, but nowhere else has this exact tune sooo

I had to include it. It’s too good. It’s got the jungle-y vibe with drums and easy going tune….before slowly spiralling with a high pitched sound that warns you of incoming danger. I imagine this playing at jungle kingdom while Avid lures Milkman to the tube room. “True intentions get revealed” type of theme

[Ruby] - Village of the Doomed, American McGee’s Alice ost - the ending of Ruby’s 8th episode reminded me of a neat little track that features clock noises! Something ominous was going on, and it’s reflected in the way the music creeps around while static/distorted noise rolls in. I can also see this playing when Ruby talks about collecting IOUs… something ominous indeed

[Rue] - Lost in Transmission, Little Nightmares 2 ost - keeping the music box but losing the ticking clock sound. Originally, I went through little nightmares ost because Cloneby had a creepy reputation. I settled on one that had a slow pace and felt off-putting in the perspective of other sbkers. But when she debuted in her own episode as Rue, this track also worked at a different angle. Another interpretation is how it feels like she’s out of place. The beginning is muffled and distant, then gradually becomes clear. It’s timid, but gentle. Then vintage’s episode happened and I went [damage noise] [damage noise] [damage noise] by what happens in LN2. Unintentional coincidence…. [damage noise]

[Trog] - basslord by predawka - this track hones in on their unusual and unpredictable nature of doing things in skyblock, in a very playful way! “God made this world and god gets to have fun with it” is the vibe, basically. They’re also not immune to the plot, as the later half of the music distorts and the tone shifts

[Clone Trog] - Planets by Jerobeam Fenderson - keeping the funky electronic groove, but now a different tune! Clone Trog is a spy, so I wanted a theme that felt more controlled and analytical. It’s music following a command. This specific version actually comes from a really cool animation meme, the original is longer and has more of an upbeat feel (it also comes with cool visuals. flash warning though)

[Milkman] - Shotgun, Plock! ost - this is so milkman. It’s lively and mischievous, keeping a steadfast beat like there’s no stopping his pranks and schemes. You can almost hear a laugh within the music (but that might just be me)

[Cloneman] - A Troubled Town, Miitopia ost - keeping the bass sound, but losing rhythm. It reflects his constant confusion. A fractured melody that wanders around- never on beat, never confident in itself, just…not quite right

[Red Fool] - Lazarus Waves, DOOM ost - Fool knew something was different with his partner, and he knew Avid was involved somehow. As he got more stressed and frustrated over time, his skin went from gold to orange to a furious red. He interrogated Avid, and when that got him nowhere he set the headquarters ablaze, and left a message in the control room that said “GIVE HIM BACK”

I chose a track to describe that sequence of events. Doom ost felt pretty fitting here. A lot of their music is intense, but this one’s a slow build-up and foreboding. Fool’s anger was quiet and destructive, and very very clear that he was not someone to be messed with

[Kittrix] - GOD RACE (Temptation Stairway OST) by METAROOM - “Step 6. And this is the most important step. Defy OSSHA!” She thrives on chaos as a proud member of the chaotic acacia kingdom, so her theme is unapologetically bold and vibrant. Ossha regulations are meant to be broken, and this music follows its own rhythm. It’s mostly very energetic, in a similar genre to Trog’s theme. It also distorts and falls apart at the very end (glitch/flash warning for the video)

[Vintage] - K.K Étude (Aircheck), animal crossing ost - what better music to suit a sweet, polite unpaid intern than some good ol’ animal crossing. It’s a lovely piano track, the right amount of cheerful energy, something that says “don’t mind me :) happy to be here”. There’s a brief stutter/glitch, then the tune goes back to normal. “Don’t mind me :) working as usual” A classical vibe, too

[Void Witches] - House In The Woods, Hilda ost - I imagine this as the theme that overpowers Avid’s presence at mangrove kingdom. It’s mystical, it’s got hushed vocals and wood creaking sound effects, overall very ambient and witch-y. Mangrove was one of the most vocal kingdoms against ossha, and I wanted their theme to feel powerful in its own right

[Olm] - Night on Bald Mountain by Mussorgsky - Olm was behind the entire ossha operation so I looked for something to match the villain energy. Since he’s an ancient being, I thought it’d be nice to get classical music. His theme would be very dramatic, very commanding, and full of “big bad guy” energy. An entire showdown of the power he wields

(Side tangent, I first heard this on Fantasia! It’s a movie from 1940 and the animators had a lot of freedom to do what they wanted. Everything was beautifully hand drawn, here’s a scene from night on bald mountain, it’s incredible. The entire movie rewired my brain growing up, I love it so much)