#then there's the version that's looming and *intimidating*

[foxprints]

Love trying to figure out how to draw a nonhuman, non corporeal character. Like. HOW do you depict dry sarcasm without body language? Without facial expressions??

[bodybaggage]

Monthly Phantom Check Up

Frostbite, Danny’s overly enthusiastic yeti doctor, shows up at the Watchtower for a surprise check-up, and things get awkward fast.

———

The Watchtower was in chaos. It wasn’t a typical day of chaos—no alien invasions or time-traveling villains—but something far more uncomfortable. Frostbite, Danny Phantom’s towering Yeti doctor and self-proclaimed “Master of Ghost Medicine,” had arrived unannounced. His massive, fur-covered frame loomed in the main meeting room as he carefully unpacked a series of glowing, intimidating medical instruments.

Superman leaned over to Wonder Woman, voice low. “Is this... normal?”

Wonder Woman’s brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t think this falls under the usual protocol for supernatural beings.”

Across the room, Danny Phantom stood in all his half-dead glory—or rather, slouched in defeat, wearing a hoodie that seemed far too large for his ghostly frame. He was clearly trying to shrink away from the entire situation, one pale hand covering his face in mortification.

“Frostbite,” Danny hissed in a hushed whisper, “you couldn’t have waited until we got back to the Ghost Zone?”

Frostbite beamed, oblivious to Danny’s pleading. “Nonsense, Great One! Your health is of utmost importance, and I detected a slight imbalance in your ectoplasmic core. It must be addressed immediately!”

Batman stood against the wall, eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold. “Ectoplasmic core?”

Frostbite nodded solemnly as he began to prepare an absurdly long, glowing probe. “Indeed, Batman. The Great One is half-ghost, and thus, his core requires regular maintenance. There are many nuances to his biology that need tending to.”

Danny groaned. “Oh, Ancients, kill me now…”

The Justice League—gathered for what they thought was going to be a strategy meeting—could only look on in awkward silence. Aquaman coughed and pretended to adjust his trident. Green Lantern pulled up a holographic projection of the solar system, which he stared at intensely despite not needing to. Flash, of course, was barely containing his laughter, lips twitching every time Frostbite said something ridiculous.

“Now,” Frostbite continued, holding up a glowing vial of something green and gooey, “the first concern is the ectoplasm imbalance. Too much exposure to the Ghost Zone can cause buildup, which leads to... ah, let’s say, irregularities.”

Superman cleared his throat. “Irregularities?”

Frostbite nodded gravely. “Yes. In the human digestive system, it might be compared to... indigestion. But in ghosts, it manifests as random phasing, ectoplasmic leakage, and occasional transformation into a much more terrifying version of oneself.”

Superman blinked. “That sounds... worse than indigestion.”

“Oh, much worse!” Frostbite said brightly, not catching the sarcasm. “Especially during ghost puberty. It’s when the ghost’s core is developing at its most volatile stage.”

Danny’s entire face turned bright red. “Frostbite! Seriously?!”

“Ghost... puberty?” Batman echoed, voice laced with what could only be described as grim fascination.

“Indeed!” Frostbite said, now fully in doctor mode. “The Great One is well past that stage, but it’s important to note that ghost puberty can last several decades for some. Phantom’s transformations would have been wildly unpredictable for years, often triggered by emotional stress or large quantities of fast food.”

Flash actually lost it at that, letting out a snort and quickly covering his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! Just—did you say fast food?”

Danny rubbed his temples. “Yes. I went through my ‘ghost puberty’ eating burgers and stressing about math tests. Can we move on?”

Frostbite chuckled warmly. “Ah, yes. The human world does have its unique challenges for the Great One. Now, the next matter—”

“There’s more?” Danny wailed, half considering flying straight through the floor and never coming back.

“Oh, yes!” Frostbite said with far too much enthusiasm. He turned to the League. “His dual nature also means his ghost half sometimes conflicts with his human immune system. It’s a fascinating process! For example, Danny can phase through objects, but if he catches a human cold, it throws his phasing abilities off and he might accidentally phase into a wall and get stuck.”

The room went silent.

Batman stared at Danny. “You’ve... phased into a wall?”

Danny gritted his teeth, wishing for the sweet release of invisibility. “I was twelve, okay? And yes, I got stuck. It was fine.”

“Mostly fine,” Frostbite corrected, waving around a spectral thermometer. “There was that one time we had to extract you from a particularly thick brick wall in Amity Park. Took several hours.”

Wonder Woman, who had remained silent up until this point, exchanged a concerned glance with Superman. “Is this something we should... prepare for?”

Danny shot them both an exasperated look. “No. I’m not going to phase into the Watchtower’s walls. Probably.”

“Unless his ectoplasmic levels are low,” Frostbite added cheerfully. “Which is why this check-up is vital!”

As Frostbite pulled out what looked suspiciously like a ghost-themed blood pressure cuff, Danny gave up. “I’m going to die—again.”

Flash wiped away a tear of laughter, his shoulders still shaking. “This is the best day of my life. I didn’t know ghost puberty was a thing.”

“I’ll send you my research papers,” Frostbite said kindly. “There’s a great deal of fascinating biology involved!”

Danny, ignoring everyone, shot a glare at Batman, who was watching all this with far too much interest. “Don’t even think about adding this to my file.”

Batman didn’t respond, though his fingers twitched ever so slightly toward his utility belt.

Frostbite, oblivious to the ongoing awkwardness, finished prepping his tools. “Now, Great One, if you could just sit still. This next part involves extracting ectoplasmic residue from your pores—”

“I’m phasing through the floor,” Danny muttered, promptly sinking halfway through the Watchtower’s pristine floor, only his head remaining visible. “See you guys never.”

The Justice League stood in stunned silence as Frostbite packed away his tools with a serene smile.

“Very well,” Frostbite said. “I’ll schedule the next check-up for next month. Goodbye, Justice League!”

And with that, the massive Yeti doctor vanished through a portal, leaving the League standing there, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

Superman finally turned to Danny, whose head was still poking out of the floor.

“Danny... you okay?”

Danny didn’t respond, choosing instead to fully disappear beneath the floor.

Flash wheezed. “I love that kid.”

[chvoswxtch]

A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance

She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁

– Zee

MY DARLING ZEE

I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing

enjoy ;)

warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k

baby.

Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.

Fucking Aaron Hotchner.

Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.

You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot. 

From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.

You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you. 

The baby of the team. 

It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.

Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.

You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.

He didn’t.

Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.

And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.

But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.

As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.

“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”

Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.

“You were completely out of line-”

“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”

“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”

Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.

“I saved that kid’s life-”

“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”

“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”

“The issue is you.”

Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity. 

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.

“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”

“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”

At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.

“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”

“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”

That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.

“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”

Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.

Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

“No.”

Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I quit.”

Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.

“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.

“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”

You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”

Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.

“I’m going home. Please move.”

That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I can drive myself.”

“Baby-”

“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”

Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

“Let her go.”

Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path. 

The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.

»»———　　———««

A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.

When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.

Aaron Hotchner.

The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.

He looked exhausted.

Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.

“May I come in?”

Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”

“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”

“Then why the hell did you hire me-”

“I’m not finished.”

Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.

“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”

“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”

“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”

Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.

“I admired your compassion.”

Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.

“What?”

“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”

He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.

“I don’t understand-”

“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”

All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.

“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”

The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?

“Why are you so different with me?”

Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.

“Because it’s my job to protect you.”

“No it isn’t.”

It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.

“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”

“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”

“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”

“I don’t think you’re a child.”

Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.

“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”

“Then what is it?”

That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.

“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”

The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper. 

“You…care about me?”

The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.

“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”

Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?

Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”

Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was smiling.

Aaron Hotchner was smiling. 

He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.

“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”

“Kind of?”

“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”

“Which is?”

“Begging for forgiveness.”

Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I don’t hear any begging.”

The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move. 

“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”

Woman.

Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.

“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”

Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher. 

“Is that so?”

His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.

“If I’m reading this wrong-”

“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”

You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.

“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”

“Mm, no.”

Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.

“No?”

“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”

Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.

“Hey, you decided my sentence.”

“You were being a brat-”

“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”

“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”

The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.

“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”

The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee

[princessbrunette]

when spoiledexgf!reader ponders on her relationship with rafe, it always come down to one thing. how on earth did they end up together in the first place? her scowl upon thinking of this would often soften into a reminiscent smile in realisation. it was his attitude that drew her in.

you remember where you were— at the county club, shock horror, and you were all alone. you weren’t in the mood to socialise that day, after one hundred things had already pissed you off you were simply there to pick up some lunch and head on home.

you frequented there, so you knew all the faces. even guys like rafe cameron, who would always stare or have something to say like you didn’t know all his tricks already. yes he was fine, but he was going to have to work a lot harder if he wanted to actually stand out.

you totter through the club in glittery sandals headed straight through to the bar where you could order your food and drink to go. you do so, and stay there whilst you wait for the order to be prepared. you’re actually lost in thought, tapping your nails on the plastic menu on the counter before you feel a big looming presence at your side.

rafe cameron leans on the counter top, already that smug little smile on his face. the one that made him look all smarmy and expensive. he’s nursing a whiskey in his hand despite the time being only along the lines of 4PM — and you move along slightly, clearing your throat. now he’s just blatantly staring at you.

rolling your eyes, you feel your lashes kiss your brows as you turn to face him. “can i help you?”

his mouth turns down in amusement as he holds his hands up defensively. “nah, just here to talk. is that… is that not okay?” he plays it off like a nice guy, but you know how fucking crazy he is. you’ve heard the tales. the future version of yourself bangs on the glass wall of the memory, begging you to just walk away.

you say nothing, turning to face the front once more. this doesn’t deter rafe from making conversation.

“y’know i uh, couldn’t help but notice how good you look today… i mean you always look fine as hell but today… mhm.” he hums, taking a sip of his whiskey and you feel him lean back just a little so he can eye you.

“thanks.” you state blankly, trying to ignore the way his special attention warmed your stomach ever so slightly. you wanted to slap yourself for being so pathetic.

“yeah… for sure.” he licks his lips before moving up alongside you to stand closer. “look, lemme get to know you, alright? i’ll take you out.” he offers.

“i have a man.” you blurt out, and it’s instantly met with a scoff that melts into a strained chuckle as he runs a hand down his face, shaking his head. oh? you blink at him. it wasn’t technically a lie. you were seeing someone, whether or not you’d call him your man was unimportant. “what?”

“nah, nothing.” he smirks, still clearly amused as the aftershock of his laugh still bubbles past his lips. “you got a man, huh? then uh, why are you here… ordering n’payin’ for your own shit?” he reaches down and gently plucks your hand off the counter, observing it. “and uh, why are your nails not done? yeah i’m not sure this guy knows what he’s doing ‘cause uh—”

you snatch your hand away, feeling your face heat as you huff. “its not your business.” you stare up at him, probably thinking you look real intimidating but those doe eyes only made you reflect the appearance of an angry little kitty-cat. you’re distracted, so when the country club worker returns with your food in its to go box, rafe maintains the eye contact with a lazy smirk, leaning over you to tap his card on the reader, paying for it.

“you’re welcome.” he states, before sliding your phone off the counter where you’d rested it and holding it out for you to take. “guess you owe me now huh? why don’t you go ahead and unlock your phone so i can put my number in there n’i’ll go ahead n’call it even. alright?” he raises his eyebrows, and you couldn’t believe it — but something about the way he was handling you made you wanna back down. submit like prey. you swallow, feeling that attitude disappearing little by little as you silently unlock your phone and hand it to him on the contact page.

he smiles, satisfied and nods before typing it in and handing it back. “text me. i’ll get you right.” he lets his lips curl up a little again, all pleased with himself as he finally steps out of your space — instantly striding off without a glance over his shoulder as he heads towards one of his friends that had just entered.

you couldn’t help your intrigue. but as the famous saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

[beckyninja]

Jealousy

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemReader

Warnings: Sexual content, MDNI

Description: After his encounter with the Artifact on Kadaku, an already rattled Titus witnesses his serf interact with another Ultramarine... and has a rather intense reaction.

More spicy time between Titus and his serf girl, folks! My version of Titus not a fan of sharing. However, if you're looking for a Titus who is up to sharing, check out @vyzz-undercover 's excellently written fic here.

This is a continuation of my Titus x FemReader story. The previous parts, and my other works, can be found on my Masterlist.

Back straight. Hands clasped. Eyes down. You have every right to be here.

Still, as the elevator screeched to a stop, you felt your heartbeat quicken. The hangar opened wide before you. Serfs and servitors scurried in all directions, machinery growled, engines roared. The acrid smell of fuel and hot metal assaulted your senses. 

And so many Astartes.

In your time aboard this ship, you’d stayed mostly in the officers’ quarters, with occasional forays to the refectory, laundry, and baths. Even then, you kept to the serf access tunnels, like Demetrian suggested.

Strange, I live on a ship with hundreds of the Emperor’s Angels, and yet I’ve only ever seen a few up close.

You fought not to shrink back as a fully armored squad marched past only yards away. Why this sudden timidity? You’d never felt this way in the Death Watch fortress. 

It’s because they’re Ultramarines.

The realization struck you. Demetrian never interacted with other Ultramarines in the Watch. And he’d all but ordered you to stay away from them. That’s why you felt so anxious, like you were disobeying him somehow. He had implied on multiple occasions he preferred you to remain near his quarters. 

But you couldn’t, not now. Vesta had stopped by that morning. 

“I thought you should know,” the medica panted, “your lord, Lieutenant Titus? I overheard the Apothecaries saying he collapsed on his last mission!”

You dropped the scrub brush you’d been using onto the floor with a clatter.

Vesta gripped your hands. “He’s alive, and appears unharmed. The Apothecaries spoke of diagnostics-”

“Where is he now?” You barely heard your own voice over the roaring of blood in your ears.

“Last I heard he’d gone to see the Lord Captain.”

You gnawed your lower lip. No chance you’d be allowed into the Command Center.

“But if he’s going to be deployed on Avarax with the rest of the Company, he’ll be heading back to the hangar before too much longer. You might be able to catch him there if you’re quick!”

You’d nearly run straight out the door, only for Vesta to ask if you had any idea where you were going. A few directions and a mad sprint later, and here you stood.

Would you ever not be intimidated by the sheer massiveness of… everything?

“Move, Throne damn you!”

Glancing over your shoulder, you gasped and barely ducked out of the way of a rolling ammunition cart. The serf pushing it glared at you from beneath his red hood, bloodshot eyes squinting.

He sneered at your blue robe. “Go back where you belong, girl. This is no place for a pampered pet.”

Heat rushed to your face. You stammered an apology and hurriedly pressed yourself against the nearest wall, trying to stay out of the way. You cringed at how you must look to the other serfs, with your clean clothing and unscarred skin. You’d been called “coddled” before. 

A sick feeling of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. But the thought of Demetrian in pain steeled your nerves. 

You scanned the vast chamber. Even amidst the horde of blue armored giants, you knew you’d be able to recognize him. The way he stood. The way he walked. His aura of quiet command.

The sudden longing physically ached. “Where are you Titus?”

“Why do you seek the Lieutenant, woman?”

You spun toward the booming voice. Two Primaris Ultramarines loomed over you and you dropped into a hurried bow, hands crossed over your chest in the sign of the aquila. 

Before you could reply, the darker skinned of the two cocked his head. “Look at her robes, Gadriel. I didn’t realize our dour Lieutenant had a personal serf.” 

The other Ultramarine scowled. “Personal serfs remain in the officers’ quarters, Chairon.” 

“Please, my lords, do you know where Lord Titus might be? I heard that he…,” you found speaking around the tightness in your throat difficult, “that he was injured.”

“Devoted little thing.” Chairon smiled. 

“As she should be.” Gadriel looked unimpressed. “The Lieutenant’s health is apparently not anyone’s concern but his own, woman.”

The bitterness in his voice surprised you. “Please, my lords, if you could only-”

“How long have you served the Lieutenant?”

You almost took a step back at the sudden intensity in Gadriel’s expression. “I…um…just over a standard year, my lord.”

“You were with him during his service in the Death Watch?”

“Gadriel…,” Chairon sighed.

“Yes, my lord. For the last part of it.”

The blond Ultramarine leaned over you. “He truly served as a Black Shield?”

“He did, my lord.”

“Why?”

The conversation was starting to feel like an interrogation. “I-I don’t understand your question, my lord.”

“Throne, woman.” The look of disgust Gadriel sent you made your face heat in shame for the second time that day. “Why did he deny his chapter? What dishonor did he commit?”

“I don’t know, my lord.” His accusatory tone raised your hackles. “I can’t believe Lord Titus capable of dishonorable actions.”

Chairon chuckled even as Gadriel’s scowl deepened. 

He stepped closer, sending a jolt of fear down your spine. “Impertinent-”

His companion placed a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, Gadriel. You would punish a serf for loyalty to her lord?”

Gadriel glanced at him, scoffed, and stomped away..

What was I thinking?! Taking that tone with one of the Emperor’s Angels? 

And yet, you realized you’d do it again. Demetrian was everything to you. To hear someone accuse him of-

“Your devotion is commendable, miss.” The other Ultramarine, Chairon, continued smiling at you.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“I would know your name.”

Something about his manner set you at ease. So different from his surly companion. You told him your name.

“The Lieutenant was undergoing diagnostics in the armory, last I knew. But he should be here shortly.”

You took a chance with this surprisingly friendly Ultramarine. “Can you…can you please tell me what happened, my lord?”

“I am sorry. Mission information is classified.”

He seemed genuinely regretful, but that didn’t ease your worry. “Of course, I understand, my lord.”

The Ultramarine seemed to study you. “I would know how the Lieutenant earned such devotion, if I may.”

Suddenly shy, you glanced down. “I should not keep you from your duties, my lord.”

“But you would be sparing me the boredom of interminable waiting before deployment.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. “Very well, my lord.”

***

Free at last from Magus Gallio’s poking and prodding, Titus stormed into the hangar. His hands and jaw clenched tight. His mind raced.

The Artifact….

He remembered the pain when he first looked upon it. Searing agony concentrating in the fresh scars and incisions of the Primaris surgery, but not originating there. Building and building until darkness took him.

It all felt so horribly familiar. Old memories surfaced. Names and places. Graia.

It cannot be happening again. 

Cold sweat broke out on his skin as he sensed the lie in his own thoughts. As he remembered the carnage of two centuries past. If his darkest suspicions proved true, no one was safe as long as that thing existed.

You weren’t safe.

The urge to find you hit him like a punch from a dreadnought. His logical mind said he had scant time before his team’s deployment to Avarax, but everything else in him screamed for you. Just to see you. To hold you.

A soft, familiar laugh met his ears. He turned toward the sound, eyes searching the walkway.

You? Here? 

In the darkest reaches of his mind, something primal snarled. You were not for others to see. They had no right to look upon you.

If he had rediscovered desire, who knew how many of his brothers had done the same? Perhaps they watched you even now. Perhaps their eyes traced your curves and longed to run their hands over them. Perhaps they wondered about the softness of your lips, the wet heat of your-

Stepping around a pile of supply crates, he saw the source of your laughter.

Brother Chairon stood next to you, near to you. He smiled and you smiled back. With an easy, casual motion, he tucked a finger beneath your chin, lifting your face toward his.

Titus saw red. “Chairon!”

In a few lunging strides he stood beside you. Not giving you time to speak, he grasped your shoulder and yanked you away from his battle brother. Part of him felt guilt at your startled cry. But a louder, snarling part of him drowned it out.

The other Ultramarine’s brows furrowed. “Lieutenant. I trust the diagnostics-”

“Are none of your concern.” He spat. 

“Demetrian?” 

He heard confusion in your barely audible murmur. He ignored it.

Chairon blinked. “Have I done something to offend, brother?”

Titus growled. “Did you not learn in your neophyte days, brother, not to touch that which is not yours?”

“Deme- my lord,” you stammered, “Lord Chairon was merely-”

“Be silent.”

“There is no need to censure your serf, Lieutenant.” Chairon frowned. “I asked for her conversation.” 

“For what purpose?”

“To while away the time before our deployment. That is all.”

Titus’ sensed the truth in his words, still, the snarling beast within refused to calm. “Your time would be better spent elsewhere.”

Chairon took the hint. “Yes, sir.” He nodded toward you. “Farewell, little one.”

Titus’ hands clenched into fists as he watched his fellow Ultramarine walk away. He heard you approach, steps tentative.

“Demetrian, what-?”

“I said, be silent.” 

He didn’t understand his own reactions. Every sense seemed locked into high alert. Beneath his armor, his body burned.

He needed…he needed….

“Come.”

***

You almost fell to your knees when Demetrian all but threw you into the empty room. A storage closet, from the boxes of odds and ends scattered about. You had to press against the far wall when he followed you inside.

Your shoulder ached from his grasp. But your complaints died away when you turned back toward him. He towered above you, looking even larger in this tiny room. A muscle in his jaw ticked. Veins pulsed in the side of his neck.

And the look in his eyes….

Predator. Run.

No. This was Demetrian. Your Demetrian. You knew he would never hurt-

He fell upon you like a starved beast.

Massive gauntlets lifted you against the back wall. He pinned you there, ceramite armor cold even through your clothing. Then his mouth found yours.

You thought you knew Demetrian’s kisses. Gentle yet passionate. This was neither. You felt devoured, the way the force of his lips pressed your head back against the metal wall. The way his tongue dominated yours. He held you utterly immobilized, unable even to respond.

His kisses drew the very air from your lungs. Just as your vision began to dim, he withdrew, leaving you gasping. His mouth moved to your throat.

A part of you thrilled at the sting of his teeth against your jugular. “Demetrian, please!”

He growled like the great predatory felines of your homeworld. “Yes…say my name….”

The skin of your throat ached under his relentless assault. You pressed your hands flat against his breastplate. This wasn’t the gentle man you knew. You should be terrified.

But when he opened your robe with his teeth and tore away your breast band, your body reacted. “Oh, Throne!”

Titus buried his face in your chest. Between nips and suckles, you heard him muttering.

“Mine. Only mine.”

You began to understand. “Yes! Yours, Demetrian! Ah…!”

“Nothing will take you from me.”

“No! N-nothing! Mmm!”

One hand shifted between your legs and cupped your clothed center. Your hips jerked against him convulsively, sending sparks of pleasure searing through your lower body. Demetrian snarled again at the sound of your desperate whine.

He began to move his hand. Rubbing at you, the motions of his gauntleted fingers unpracticed and clumsy. But it didn’t matter. You were beyond ready.

You ground against him, simultaneously pressing your chest further into his face. “Don’t stop! Oh, Golden Throne! Don’t stop!”

“Never.”

The single word in his deep growl broke you. Pleasure raced through you, your back arched, and you would have screamed aloud if Titus’ mouth hadn’t covered yours again. 

As you came down from your high, trembling and whimpering, his arms surrounded you in a more familiar embrace. He nearly crushed you against his breastplate, head resting on your shoulder. You felt his hot breath against your skin.

“Damn this armor.” He mumbled.

You almost laughed as your fear melted into tenderness. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you pressed a soft kiss against his jaw. “Demetrian, love, do you really believe I’d choose any other man over you?”

***

Your words finally soothed the beast within. He still ached for you. Throne! Did he ache for you! But the mad red haze faded away.

And he realized what he’d done.

“Warp damn it!” 

Pulling away, he took in your swollen lips, torn clothing, and mauled chest with growing horror. 

Your soft hand stroked his cheek. “Demetrian, don’t.”

“I…I….”

He had no words to rationalize what he’d done. He didn’t understand it himself. Still, he tried.

“When I saw you in the hangar, surrounded by battle brothers…vulnerable…and then, Chairon….”

“You’ve been jealous before. I remember the Black Templar in the Watch-”

“You were not mine, then. Not in this way. This felt…Throne.” He couldn’t look at your sweet, understanding face any longer and leaned his head back against your shoulder. “Forgive me.”

He felt your tiny fingers card through his hair. “I do. I forgive you, Demetrian.”

“I lost control.” Shame burrowed into the pit of his stomach. “I could have killed you.”

“You didn’t though. Even…like that…you didn’t hurt me.”

Pulling back, he gave you an incredulous look. “Your breasts look as if you were attacked by a ripper swarm, woman!”

You laughed. Laughed.

He stared at you in wonder. Surely you were a gift from the Emperor for his century of unjust torment. 

“Have you no fear, love?”

“I’ll admit you startled me, but no.” Your hands cupped his face. “I’m not afraid of you, Demetrian.” Your smile faded slightly. “I do think you owe Lord Chairon an apology, though. I truly believe he meant nothing but kindness.”

Titus thought of Chairon’s attitude around baselines. The concern he showed for the Guardsmen. He sighed.

“Perhaps.” He gently leaned his forehead against yours. “You were fortunate he was the one who took notice of you. Why did you come to the hangar?”

“Vesta told me you’d collapsed on your last mission. I was worried.”

Warmth surged through him and he pulled you tighter against his chest. “Little Healer, you need not worry for me.”

“What happened, Demetrian?”

Perhaps he’d tell you one day. The whole story.

His helmet vox crackled to life. “Squad assembled and Thunderhawk ready to depart, Lieutenant.”

With a sigh, he responded. “I am on my way.”

He set you on your feet, steadying you when you swayed. “Are you all right?”

You leaned against one of the crates. “I will be, in a minute or so.” Your eyes drifted down his armored form. “Are you all right?”

“I am.” You cocked an eyebrow and he finally caught your meaning. “Oh. Ah…I will endure.”

“If only certain parts of your armor could be easily removed.”

The want in your voice. “You astound me, woman.”

“You’re very attractive when you’re jealous, Demetrian.”

He blinked down at you, at a loss for words. “Truly?”

“Mmmhmm, “ your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Throne,” he stooped and pressed his lips to yours one last time. “Be ready for me upon my return, Little Healer.”

You clung to him for a moment, repeating the words you said at every parting. “Be safe, Demetrian. I love you.”

I love you more than you will ever know. Nothing in this universe will rip you from my arms.

***

The silent figure watched Titus emerge from the storage compartment. On the surface, nothing seemed to be amiss. The former Captain walked with a sense of purpose and confidence he hadn’t seen in centuries.

What corruption lurks beneath that facade, brother?

His eyes followed the Ultramarine until he turned a corner and vanished from sight. That wouldn’t do. He began to pursue, when movement drew his eyes back to the door of the closet.

A serf. A female serf in the cerulean robes of a personal attendant. She held said robes tight over her chest, and looked back and forth furtively before scurrying off, a slight hitch in her step.

An unfamiliar scent met his nose, mingling with the strong overlay of Astartes sweat.

Behind the scarlet lenses of his skull helmet, Chaplain Leandros narrowed his eyes.

This bears further investigation.

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[angelremnants]

A TALES OF.. l Tides and Mishaps

OR.. After your strange ordeal, you find yourself brought to Asgard, where you're to face a trial for your unusual bond with your necklace. With Loki forcing his company onto you, you both go through a tense encounter that leaves both of you soaked, disheveled and wondering what will happen next.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (+16), mild suggestive content, power dynamics, flirtation and teasing, unresolved sexual tension, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 11.4k

author's notes : I am back, baby! Finally finished with my exams, and we're celebrating with this ficlet! It adds more depth to the series' lore while sprinkling in some playful moments. Writing this felt essential to set the stage for the spicy plot I’ve been itching to dive into.

Find the continuation here.⠀(18+—MDNI.)

(ao3 version)

The Bifrost roared to life, a maelstrom of light and sound that seemed to swallow the world whole. For one heart-stopping moment, you felt weightless, as though the very air had been torn from your lungs. And then, just as suddenly, it was over.

Your feet hit solid ground, though it didn’t feel it as much—it didn’t have the same firmness as Earth’s soil. The surface beneath you was smooth, crystalline, and alive with shifting colors. You stumbled slightly, catching yourself against the closest steady presence, which just so happened to be Loki.

“Do try to stay upright,” he drawled, steadying you with a hand on your arm before stepping back with exaggerated grace.

You blinked, regaining your balance as you fixed him with a glare. “You could’ve warned me.”

“And miss that look of sheer terror? Absolutely not,” he replied with a smirk, releasing you as if it were beneath him to linger too long.

Your retort died on your lips as your eyes took in the sight before you: Asgard. The city glimmered like something out of a dream, its golden spires piercing the heavens, the sky above it painted in hues you couldn’t name. Rivers of light wove through the air like threads in an invisible loom, casting an otherworldly glow over everything.

Your jaw dropped. “It’s… it’s…”

“Glorious?” Loki supplied, clearly enjoying your reaction based on the indubitable edge of pride in his voice. “Magnificent? Breathtaking? Go on, I’ve got all day.”

“Overwhelming,” you finished, still gaping.

“Ah, a new one,” he said with mock surprise. “How refreshing.”

Before you could formulate a response, the sound of footsteps echoed across the bridge. An imposing figure approached with the deliberate, measured pace of someone who carried the weight of millennia on his shoulders. His golden eyes swept over you, lingering for a moment longer than you were comfortable with before settling on Loki, narrowing slightly.

“Prince Loki,” he saluted with a small nod, his voice low and resonant.

“Heimdall,” Loki replied smoothly, his tone laced with feigned civility. “No need for that intimidating look. I am precisely where I’m supposed to be.”

“Rare, but true,” Heimdall said, his gaze shifting back to you. He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You are the one who bears the gift.”

You hesitated under the weight of his gaze. “That’s me,” you said with an awkward smile, trying for a tone that sounded casual but landed somewhere closer to nervous.

Heimdall’s piercing stare softened slightly, though a flicker of something unreadable danced behind his golden eyes. “Perhaps…” he murmured as if speaking more to himself than to you.

“Perhaps?” you repeated, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He ignored your question, instead turning his attention to Loki. “And you brought her here in due form? Color me surprised—perhaps your talk of redemption isn’t entirely hollow after all.”

Loki’s smirk deepened, as though the mere idea of Heimdall questioning him brought him endless amusement. “Oh come along, Heimdall, have some faith in me will you? Thor was otherwise occupied, so yes, I am the one who delivered our little anomaly to Asgard. Do try not to look so surprised.”

Heimdall’s gaze flickered back to you, and this time his expression was unreadable. “You assume much, Loki, as always. There is more to this one than meets the eye.”

You blinked, your brow furrowing. “Uh, hello? Cryptic much?”

Instead of gracing you with an answer, Heimdall turned and began walking toward the city, his stride as unyielding as the bridge beneath your feet. “Come. There is much to discuss, and the Allfather will not wait.”

You exchanged a confused glance with Loki, but he only shrugged, clearly uninterested in dissecting Heimdall’s cryptic words.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Loki said, following after the gatekeeper with an air of feigned indifference. “He enjoys making everything sound mysterious and profound. It’s practically a pastime.”

But you couldn’t shake the weight of Heimdall’s words as you drew closer to the city. More than meets the eye. It was an idea that gnawed at you as you stared at the golden gates ahead, a growing knot of unease twisting in your stomach.

Whatever awaited you inside the halls of Asgard, you suspected it would be more than you were prepared for.

⠀⠀

Soon enough, the small group reached the golden gates of Asgard which opened with a slow, reverent creak, revealing the splendor within. As you stepped across the threshold, you felt your breath hitch. The palace was impossibly vast, its ceilings arching so high above that they seemed to disappear into the ether. Columns of gleaming gold lined the grand hall, their surfaces etched with intricate runes that shimmered faintly as though alive. Sunlight poured in from massive windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the polished floors.

“I’m starting to think you people don’t do subtle,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Loki, walking beside you with his usual swagger, smirked. “Subtlety is overrated. What you see here is the peak of sophistication and culture.”

“I get where your dramatic flair comes from now. Feels like you’re compensating for something,” you shot back, unable to resist to the temptation of the snark.

“Compensating?” Loki scoffed, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Darling, if Asgard were compensating, we’d have built two palaces and made them float.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Right, because subtlety really is your strong suit.”

“Subtlety,” he said, stepping ahead with a flourish while twirling his cape as if to make a point, “is for those who have nothing worth showing off.”

Ahead of them, Heimdall paused and turned just enough to give Loki a pointed look. “Do try to behave,” he said dryly. “We are in the presence of the Allfather’s court, after all.”

Loki sighed dramatically. “Always the stickler, Heimdall. I assure you, that my behavior will be exemplary. Can’t guarantee the same for our invitee over here.”

You raised an eyebrow but wisely chose not to comment. Instead, you focused on the grand hall ahead, where grand statures loomed at the far end seemingly watching over the entrance of the throne rooms. God, must all Asgardians be so tall?

Two guards in shining armor led you through the labyrinthine halls, their expressions stoic, their silence impenetrable. You clutched your neck where the artifact had affixed itself weeks ago, the golden runes etched into your skin glowing faintly under your touch. It hadn’t hurt, but it had refused to let go, as if it had claimed you. Those wretched SHIELD scientists on Earth had no answers. Neither did you.

A voice broke through your thoughts as you reached the throne room. "The Allfather will see you now."

The massive doors creaked open, revealing a short but intimidating old man seated on his throne, the ever-watchful Heimdall leading the troupe and striding to pay his respects. Guess not, after all. A gorgeous and graceful lady sat beside him, her serene expression offering a sliver of comfort amidst the tension. You stepped forward hesitantly, feeling like you had sinned for even letting your feet brush against the polished floor.

"Come closer," Odin commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber. You obeyed, feeling small beneath his gaze.

Even from a distance, his presence was imposing. Draped in regal robes of deep crimson and gold, the Allfather sat upon a throne that seemed carved from starlight itself. His one remaining eye fixed on you as you approached, sharp and unyielding. The queen beside him held an elegance that was a stark contrast to the weight of Odin’s authority.

As you drew closer, you felt the weight of their scrutiny settle on you. You were acutely aware of your attire—a basic white shirt, paired with a burgundy leather jacket and jeans, entirely impolite for the occasion. The contrast between the modern, casual outfit and the ancient, sacred setting was striking, and it felt as though you were wearing a banner of your inadequacy. The artifact bound to your neck—the ornate, ancient-looking jewelry you hadn’t been able to remove—seemed to pulse faintly under their gaze, as if sensing the gravity of the moment.

However, beneath the surface, there was an almost surreal feeling tugging at you. You had been stripped of your usual layers, your defenses, your control—forced to stand before these gods and be judged.

You stopped at the base of the dais, and Heimdall stepped forward, bowing deeply. “Allfather. I present the mortal who bears the artifact.”

Odin’s gaze shifted to you, and the air seemed to grow heavier. You swallowed hard, unsure whether to bow, curtsy, or just stand there and hope you didn’t offend anyone. Your voice faltered as you glanced at the ground and stuttered, “Do I... Do I bow, or—?” Your words trailed off, feeling absurd in the silence that stretched between them.

Odin’s expression hardened, but there was a brief flicker of something—amusement, perhaps—before he spoke. “You stand as you are, mortal. Your presence here has already spoken volumes.”

The silence hung thick, and you straightened, hoping you hadn't overstepped, but unsure if you had done enough. Loki’s absence of protest was loud in its own way, though.

“You’ve brought her here safely,” Odin said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying the weight of eons. “Good.”

Then his gaze moved to Loki, narrowing slightly. “And you. I had expected Thor to complete this task, yet it is you who stands before me. Explain.”

Loki’s posture straightened, his usual smirk fading into something more restrained. “Thor is off-world, tending to a matter of great importance,” he said smoothly. “I was the logical choice to retrieve her. After all, who better to guide a mortal through the complexities of our realm than I?”

“Or to exploit her presence for your amusement,” Odin countered sharply, his tone cutting.

Loki’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t falter. “I’m here because I was entrusted with the task. And I fulfilled it.”

“You are supposed to be on house arrest, boy—”

Frigga stepped forward then, her voice gentle but firm. “And had he not gone, we wouldn’t have the chance to meet her, would we, my king? She stands before us unharmed.”

You sneaked a glance at Loki out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment you saw something entirely unfamiliar. The usual sharpness in his demeanor, the endless supply of biting wit and bravado, seemed dulled under Odin’s glare. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and his hands clasped behind his back as if restraining himself. You’d never seen him so repressed before, so small beneath someone else’s authority. It unsettled you more than you cared to admit.

Odin’s gaze lingered on Loki for a moment longer before he shifted his focus back to you. “What do you know of the artifact you carry?”

“Not much,” you admitted, your voice steadier than you expected. “I found it during a trip to Sweden. The moment I picked it up, it latched onto me. I’ve tried everything—pulling it off, cutting it, even letting some organization poke at it with their fancy tech.”

Loki smirked beside you. “Charming.”

You ignored him. “It doesn’t hurt me, but sometimes it feels like it’s… alive. Like it’s trying to tell me something.”

Odin’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eye—curiosity, perhaps, or recognition. “It is no ordinary artifact,” he said at last. “Its origins are older than even this realm. We will determine its purpose and its bond to you, but the process will not be easy.”

You frowned, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth surface of the artifact. “What does that mean?”

Instead of answering directly, Odin raised his staff, Gungnir, and tapped it once against the polished floor. The chamber darkened, and the golden light of Asgard’s magic rippled through the air. A projection began to form before you—a shimmering, ethereal image of Yggdrasil, its vast branches stretching infinitely. At its roots coiled the immense, terrifying form of a serpent, its scales dark and glimmering with an otherworldly sheen.

“This,” Odin began, his voice reverberating through the room, “is Níðhöggr, the wyrm who once gnawed at the roots of Yggdrasil, threatening the very balance of the Nine Realms. Long before my reign, even before the reign of my father Borr, the great serpent clashed with my grandfather, Búri. Their battle raged for days, shaking the very foundation of existence.”

The projection shifted, showing an imposing figure clad in ancient armor, wielding a glowing axe as he fought the massive serpent. As the battle raged, one of Níðhöggr’s scales fell, pulsing with the chaotic energy of Yggdrasil’s roots.

“When Níðhöggr was finally defeated by my grandfather the late Búri and cast into obscurity, this single scale remained—a fragment of its power, imbued with the raw magic of Yggdrasil itself,” Odin continued. “It was believed lost, hidden from both gods and mortals alike, until now.”

The projection faded, and the light returned to the chamber. Odin’s gaze fell heavily on you, his expression unreadable. “That scale, the Wyrmscale, has bound itself to you. Why it has chosen a mortal remains to be seen, but its attachment is no trivial matter. It may seek to awaken something within you—or to serve as a harbinger of something far worse.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as you processed the weight of his words. “And… what does that mean for me? What happens now?”

“That is why you’re here,” Heimdall interjected, his tone solemn, stepping forward. “To be tested.”

Odin nodded gravely, his expression unwavering. “The Hollow of Trials. It is a place where the balance of the realms is tested, a sacred site known only to a few. It is said that those who enter must confront the deepest parts of themselves, for the cave reveals not only your strengths but your weaknesses, your fears, and your potential. It is a place of transformation, where even gods must face their trials to gain wisdom and power.”

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing the seriousness of Odin and Heimdall before turning to Loki, whose face was as unreadable as ever. You had to admit, that the description sounded intense. But you weren’t about to let the solemn atmosphere throw you off. “So… it’s just a cave, then?”

Odin’s eye twitched, his gaze shifting from the projection of the cave to you with a sharp, piercing look. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as if trying to decide whether to address the disrespect or simply let it pass. He chose the former. “It is not ‘just a cave,’ mortal,” he said, his voice low but carrying the weight of centuries. The side-eye he gave you was cold and unimpressed. “The Hollow of Trials is a place of great significance. It tests those who enter in ways you cannot yet comprehend.”

You met his gaze without flinching, but there was no hiding the slight grin tugging at your lips. You leaned toward Loki and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “Guess it’s not just a cave then.”

Loki’s lips twitched into a brief smile before he straightened, looking back to Odin. “It is a place of trials, yes. Much more than a mere cave.” His voice was smooth, but there was a slight edge to it, the kind that came from having spent too many years around Odin’s more… imposing presence.

Odin’s side-eye lingered for a moment longer before he gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. “You will see for yourself soon enough. But remember this, Midgardian,” he added with quiet authority, “you are on sacred ground. Show it the respect it demands.”

You gave him a nod, not entirely convinced, but fully aware that disrespecting him further would probably not end well. “Got it. Big, serious cave.”

Heimdall stepped forward, eyeing you now with a hint of disapproval, though he didn’t speak. Odin’s gaze shifted to Loki then, seemingly dismissing you for the moment, though the weight of his earlier words still hung heavy in the air.

Frigga, who had remained silently observing the exchange, finally spoke, her voice light but with an undercurrent of motherly warmth. “You are brave to face this trial,” she said, her gaze flicking over you with a faint smile. “The cave will bring out what you least expect, but it will also show you the truth of yourself. Be prepared for what you may learn.”

You weren’t sure if you should be reassured by Frigga’s words or if they were meant to prepare you for something worse. You gave a tight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, Your Majesty.”

Frigga’s smile deepened at the respectful tone. “Good. Trust in the process. And remember, you are not alone in this, no matter how it feels in the moment.”

Before you could respond, Loki stepped forward, his usual swagger replaced with a more persuasive tone. “And while [Y/N] faces these trials, surely it would be wise for me to accompany her. As her guide, I could—”

Odin’s piercing gaze snapped to Loki, his expression unreadable, but the tension in the room thickened. “You will do no such thing.”

Loki’s smile faltered for just a moment. “But father, surely my presence would be—”

“No,” Odin interjected, his voice cutting through Loki’s words like a sharp blade. “This trial is hers alone to face. You will remain here, where you are needed.”

Loki hesitated, pressing his lips together as if weighing his words. There was an unmistakable flicker of reluctance in his eyes, one that wasn’t lost on either of his parents. Frigga’s brow furrowed slightly, and she exchanged a rapid glance with Odin before turning her attention back to Loki.

“You seem... unusually determined to accompany her, Loki,” Frigga remarked, her tone soft but laced with concern. “Is there a reason you are so reluctant to let her face this alone?”

Loki’s smirk faded, his posture stiffening. He quickly recovered, though, leaning into his usual charm. “I’m simply looking out for her well-being,” he said smoothly, though the edge in his voice suggested there was more beneath the surface. “Surely you both can see that this trial will be taxing on her. It’s only natural for me to ensure she isn’t harmed.”

Odin’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding his expression. “And you think you are the best one to protect her in this trial? You, who has only recently earned back our trust?”

Loki didn’t flinch at the accusation, but there was an almost imperceptible twitch in his jaw. “I am capable of more than you know, Father. You needn’t worry about me.”

Frigga studied him with a piercing gaze, her motherly instincts keen. “Loki,” she said gently, “it’s not the protection of [Y/N] we question. It’s your reasons for wanting to accompany her. You’ve never been one to shy away from danger or intrigue. What is it that you fear in her doing this alone?”

Loki’s eyes flickered toward you, his voice lowering. “It’s not fear. It’s caution.” He looked back at Odin and Frigga, his expression a little more guarded now. “This is a unique situation. One I believe requires a guiding hand.”

Odin’s piercing gaze remained fixed on him, his silence speaking volumes. There was no anger in the god’s eyes, only a quiet understanding that Loki’s behavior was anything but ordinary. Frigga placed a hand gently on Odin’s arm, but her eyes never left her son.

“You are not to accompany her,” Odin finally decreed, his voice firm. “The Hollow of Trials requires solitude, and it is not your place to interfere.”

Loki’s face remained neutral, but his eyes darkened with unspoken emotions. “As you wish,” he said flatly, stepping back. “But I’ll be close, Father. You know where to find me if you need anything... or if the trial proves too much for her.”

Odin and Frigga exchanged another look, their suspicion deepening as they watched Loki’s retreat. Frigga’s voice softened, though, as she turned back to you.

“Do not mind him,” she said, her tone comforting. “Loki’s path is… complicated, but his concern for you is genuine, in his own way.”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of sympathy and wariness toward the prince. Loki had certainly been a puzzle to you so far, but right now, you had more pressing matters at hand.

“Well, I guess I’m off to this ‘Hollow of Trials,’ then,” you said, a nervous smile creeping onto your face. “Hopefully I can avoid turning into a snack for whatever’s in there.”

⠀⠀

As you stepped into the lavish room, Frigga followed close behind, her presence both comforting and commanding. The regal chambers felt foreign to you, the walls lined with intricate tapestries depicting ancient battles and victories. It was strange to be in a place so full of history, knowing you were now a part of it, however briefly.

Frigga smiled gently, her warmth radiating in the cold, cavernous room. “You must be feeling overwhelmed,” she said softly, watching you as you looked around.

You gave a weak smile, your hands still nervously twitching. “You could say that. I never expected any of this. One moment I’m just a regular exchange student on a school trip to Sweden, and the next I am here, about to enter a sacred cave... and probably face some weird, magical thing."

Frigga’s eyes softened, her smile never faltering. "This is a lot to take in, but you are stronger than you realize. It is an honor to be here, and this trial will help you find out what you're truly capable of."

You glanced at Frigga, then down at yourself. You were still dressed in the simple clothes you had worn for the journey, and though they were practical, they wouldn’t do for such an occasion. "So... what exactly am I supposed to wear? Not that I’ve had much time to go shopping for sacred cave attire."

Frigga chuckled, the sound rich and full of warmth. "Fear not, I will take care of that." She moved toward a large wardrobe at the far side of the room, filled with gowns and outfits woven from fine silks and materials that shimmered like the night sky. "These aren’t the usual gowns of Asgard," Frigga explained, "but they are practical for such a trial."

She motioned for you to sit as she began pulling out garments, her eyes assessing the materials with a practiced hand. "I know it may seem strange, this idea of dressing up for a trial, but appearances can be important in Asgard. There is honor in how we present ourselves, even in the most difficult of moments."

You chuckled, tilting your head slightly. "Seems a bit... extra, don’t you think? For a cave trial?"

Frigga smiled knowingly. "Perhaps," she said softly, as she began to unfold a simple yet elegant outfit made of light fabric. "But this trial will reveal your inner strength. You must present yourself as you truly are—strong, capable, and unafraid of the challenges ahead."

Frigga laid out the attire, a soft, flowing robe of pure white that shimmered faintly under the dim light of the room. The fabric was delicate, like the finest silk, but not overly elaborate—its simplicity lent it an understated elegance that would suit your unassuming nature. The robe draped down from the shoulders in soft folds, the design was minimal but graceful, with no heavy embellishments to distract from its quiet beauty. The sleeves were long and fluid, cinched at the wrist with a thin silver band, and the hem barely brushed the floor, giving the robe an ethereal quality, like a soft cloud in a moonlit sky.

Around the waist was a subtle, golden-threaded sash that tied loosely, giving the robe shape without constricting it. It didn’t cling to your figure, but the soft weight of the fabric promised to mold your body in a way that would emphasize the graceful movement of your form. There was nothing ostentatious about it, yet the robe exuded a regal aura—its simplicity accentuated by its luxurious fabric.

It was clear that Frigga had chosen this robe not just for its beauty, but for its practicality. The lightness of the fabric made it seem almost weightless, yet its soft sheen caught the light in a way that would make it appear even more beautiful when wet, the material clinging gently to the skin, tracing every curve in a way that was both delicate and stunning.

She held up the clothes and turned back to you, who was still seated, unsure of how to approach the situation. "I know this is unfamiliar," Frigga continued, her voice warm and soothing. "But let me help you, child. You don’t have to face this alone. Not truly."

As you began to change behind a nearby screen, you felt an unusual sense of comfort in Frigga's words. Despite the regal atmosphere, the queen’s presence was grounded, maternal even. It was hard not to feel a little at ease.

Frigga, seemingly reading the mood, smiled faintly. "You have a strength about you, dearest. Something I see, even in the way you carry yourself, the way you’ve managed to survive what you’ve been through. You may think you’re just a mortal, but I sense something different in you."

You peeked out from behind the screen, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? What, you mean I’m some kind of hero-in-the-making?"

Frigga’s eyes glinted with wisdom, a knowing smile on her lips. "Not exactly a hero. But there’s more to you than meets the eye. The bond between you and the artifact... It’s no coincidence. There’s something in your soul that the artifact recognized. Something ancient and powerful." She hesitated for a moment before speaking again, almost as if she were considering the weight of her words. "And something that might be more connected to Asgard than you realize."

You tugged the tunic over your head and emerged from behind the screen, feeling more yourself in the simple yet elegant clothes. "Connected to Asgard? You mean the whole ‘grand destiny’ speech? Because I’m still waiting for the part where I get my cape and superpowers."

Frigga’s smile softened. "Not quite that. But there’s a connection in you, something unseen. My gift of sight allows me to see beyond the surface—into the hearts and souls of others. And I’ve seen it in you."

You paused, looking at Frigga in surprise. "Wait, you’re telling me you can see... beyond your eyes? Like, the future? Or some deep, dark secret about my life?"

Frigga chuckled gently, her gaze never leaving yours. "No, nothing like that. But I can see the essence of who someone truly is. And you... you have strength that even you don’t fully understand yet. It’s as though you’ve always been destined to walk a path that will lead you here, to this moment. You may not see it yet, but I do."

You were quiet for a moment, letting the weight of Frigga’s words settle in. "I guess I never really thought of it that way," you murmured. "I’m just a regular-sized human being from Earth—or, Midgard as you say. Never thought I'd be standing here, in the middle of a royal family’s palace, about to face some huge trial... and all because of a shiny rock I picked up on vacation."

Frigga smiled warmly, her eyes full of understanding. "You may not see it now, but perhaps the journey you are on will help you understand your place in this world—here, with us, with the Asgardians. And in time, you’ll understand why the artifact chose you. Everything happens for a reason, my dear. Even if that reason is something you can't yet comprehend."

There was a long silence as Frigga finished adjusting your outfit, and then stepped back to admire her work while you studied yourself in the mirror, noting how the robe cascaded around you with almost divine grace. The robe felt both foreign and natural on your body. The cool fabric against your skin gave you a sense of being part of something larger—something ancient. It was as if you were wearing a garment that had been crafted not for you, but for a version of yourself you hadn’t yet discovered.

Frigga’s eyes softened as she gazed at you. “It suits you,” she said gently. “Simple, yet powerful. A reflection of your true strength.”

You smiled faintly. "Strength, huh? I might need a lot of that. Mentally, especially."

Frigga laughed softly, a sound full of affection. "Yes, perhaps you will. But you are capable, and you will face this trial with courage. Trust in yourself."

You gave a hesitant nod, feeling a mix of nerves and determination wash over you. "Thank you, Your Majesty. For everything."

Frigga placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but kind. "It is my duty, child. Know that you are not alone, no matter what happens in that cave."

As you turned to leave, the queen's voice stopped you for a moment. "Remember, this trial is not just about strength. It’s about finding who you truly are."

You gave her a small smile. "I’ll keep that in mind." With one last glance at Frigga, you walked toward the door, ready to face whatever awaited you in the Hollow of Trials.

Frigga led you through the palace, her presence calm and steady despite the looming uncertainty of what was to come. The tension from earlier still hung in the air, but Frigga’s quiet confidence was a grounding force.

“You’ll need to remain calm,” She said, her voice soft but firm as you walked down the stone corridors toward the cave. “The sacred cave will reveal to you the truth of the artifact, but it will test you. Tests are not always kind, but they are necessary.”

You nodded, trying to steady your breath. You hadn’t expected it to feel this real, this heavy, despite the absence of a clear threat. It was as though the cave itself was waiting for you, and you weren’t sure you were ready to meet whatever it held.

“The trials within will challenge your mind, your body, and your spirit. But most importantly, it will reveal the bond between you and the artifact, and the deeper purpose it holds for you. To the land of Asgard, to the ancient power that lies beneath,” Frigga continued, her gaze distant for a moment. “The scales of Níðhöggr are not just a relic of old, they are a key to understanding the future. You must enter the cave, and what you see may shock you, but you mustn’t lose yourself in it.”

The more Frigga spoke, the more you felt the weight of the task before you. “What exactly will happen when I enter?” you asked, your curiosity mixed with an edge of nervousness.

“You will be shown what lies dormant within you,” Frigga explained, “The cave is connected to the heart of Yggdrasil itself, and it will guide you through what you need to see. Focus. Don’t let fear take hold.”

You reached the entrance to the cave—a massive opening, shrouded in mist. The walls seemed to breathe, pulsating softly, almost as if welcoming you into their depths.

You swallowed hard. “I’m ready.” You weren’t sure if that was true, but the words felt like something you needed to say.

⠀⠀

They arrived at the entrance to the cave—an imposing archway shrouded in mist and darkened stone. The air felt thicker here, charged with an almost tangible energy that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Frigga paused, giving you a steady, reassuring glance before stepping back to lean against the stone just outside the entrance.

“You must enter alone,” Frigga said, her voice gentle but firm. “You will know when the time comes to act. Trust yourself, and remember what I’ve told you.”

You gave a nod, a mix of apprehension and determination in your heart. You stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the cave. As your foot touched the cool stone floor, a slight chill seemed to seep into your bones. You shivered but didn’t stop.

The inside was dim, shadows stretching from the walls as if the cave itself had a life of its own. The faint glow from the artifact around your neck illuminated the path before you, casting eerie reflections against the wet stone. You continued to move deeper into the cave, the silence pressing in on you like a weight.

As you ventured deeper, you could feel the air grow colder, and you felt the pulse of the artifact beneath your skin. The longer you walked, the stronger the pull—it was as if it was calling you, urging you toward something deep within the cave.

A sudden voice broke the stillness, echoing off the walls.

“Are you really planning to do this alone, little mortal?”

You spun around, startled. Before you could even process who—or what—it was, your instincts kicked in. A sudden rush of panic and irritation propelled your fist forward, swinging at the mysterious figure standing in the shadows.

But just as your punch came within inches of its target, you froze, your eyes going wide.

Loki stepped forward into the faint light, a sly smile curling at his lips, completely unfazed. The blow had missed him by mere inches, and he watched with amusement as you lowered your fist in realization.

“Loki?” you asked, voice tinged with irritation. “What are you doing here? I thought your mother said I had to do this on my own.”

Loki didn’t skip a beat. “Oh, she did, didn’t she? But I thought I’d just... make sure you’re not getting yourself into trouble. After all, we wouldn’t want you to get lost in here or something of the sorts.”

You blinked, still trying to steady your breath. “You’re not subtle.”

Loki’s grin widened, clearly unbothered. "I already told you, subtlety is overrated."

Suddenly, you felt a surge of irritation—at yourself, for being startled so easily—and without thinking, you swung out with a fist, aiming straight for him.

You didn’t even land a punch.

Loki’s grin only grew as he effortlessly dodged the swing, leaning to the side with the fluid grace of someone who had seen this kind of thing before. "Is that your idea of defending yourself, mortal?" he teased, standing completely still as your fist missed by inches.

You froze for a moment, eyes wide with embarrassment. "I wasn’t... I was just—"

"—Trying to punch me? Well, I suppose it was a valiant effort," Loki said, unruffled, his expression mocking yet somehow fond. "But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to hit me."

You scowled, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind, thanks."

Loki chuckled softly at your annoyance. "You’ll need a lot more than a surprise swing to face what’s ahead, mortal. But don’t worry—I'll be here to help," he added, his voice turning more serious, though there was still that underlying amusement in his tone.

You scowled, feeling your blood rise to your cheeks. “Great. First, I punch a god, now I’m being scolded and tailed by one.”

Loki smirked, clearly entertained by your flustered reaction. “And here I thought I was the deranged one.”

You crossed your arms, doing your best to hide your embarrassment. “Well, you are.”

“Only on special occasions.” Loki chuckled, his grin widening. “Now, let’s get on with this, shall we? I’ll stay close in case you need me... even if you insist on attempting to hit me again.”

“Oh trust me, I’d love to make you my personal punching ball. But you’re not supposed to be here, Your Highness,” you said, your voice firmer this time. “This is my trial, not yours.”

Loki’s smile faltered just slightly, but he quickly recovered, his eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and something else. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m not here to interfere. Just think of me as an... observer. I’m actually quite good at observing, you know.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fine, but you stay out of my way, Peeping Tom. I’m not in the mood for your tricks.”

Loki’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he stepped closer, seemingly unbothered by your resistance. “I’m just making sure you’re safe. Who else could keep you company on this grand adventure? Your noble Asgardian family? Heimdall is too busy watching the horizon, and moth—Frigga, well, she’s always so proper.” He gave a dramatic roll of his eyes. “You’re stuck with me.”

You didn’t know whether to be frustrated or amused, but you felt a little of the tension in your chest ease up. “Fine. But if you do anything to make this harder than it already is, I swear I’ll—”

“—you’ll what? Throw me out of here?” Loki interrupted with a soft chuckle. “You can try, but I’m rather skilled at slipping past... inconveniences.”

Just then, they heard Frigga’s voice echo from outside the cave, calling out in a tone that barely masked her amusement. “Loki, if you’re going to follow her, at least try to make yourself discreet.”

Loki’s grin widened as he turned to you. “See? Like I told you, not subtle at all.”

You huffed but followed, rolling your eyes as you muttered under your breath, "I’d rather be doing this on my own."

Loki’s soft laugh echoed around you. "Oh, I’m sure you would, but where’s the fun in that?"

You gave him a pointed look before stepping deeper into the cave, determined not to let his presence distract you. The further you ventured, the more the air seemed to hum with energy, the walls of the cave narrowing around you as if closing in, but you kept your focus.

Loki followed closely behind, his presence bringing a mix of annoyance and reluctant comfort.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here,” you said after a moment, your voice a little softer.

Loki raised an eyebrow, the humor in his voice fading for just a moment. “You’ll know. Trust me. The artifact has a way of showing you what you need to see.” He paused, then added, “And if you don’t, well, I’ll be here to make sure you don’t do anything... rash.”

You sighed, your eyes scanning the dark cave around them. Whatever was about to happen, you were ready—or at least, you hoped you were.

The further you ventured into the cave, the more surreal it became. The air grew cooler, and the light seemed to dim as you descended deeper into the cavern. Soon, you emerged into an expansive, otherworldly space. The chamber stretched high above you, the walls lined with shimmering minerals that cast faint glows, giving the place a mystical feel.

At the center of the cavern was a clear, glowing pool of water, rippling ever so slightly as if something ancient and powerful stirred beneath its surface. The water shimmered with an eerie blue light, reflecting the faint beams of light that filtered through cracks in the ceiling. The surroundings were so calm, so peaceful—it almost seemed too good to be true.

“This is it?” you asked, taking in the sight. You felt a mixture of awe and apprehension.

Loki, who had been walking in silence beside you, stopped a few steps ahead, eyeing the pool with a thoughtful expression. “Yes. The pool of trial,” he said, though his voice was laced with a touch of amusement. “Step into the water. It will reveal what you need to face.”

You froze, your heart sinking as you stared at the pool. “Wait, step in? That?” You gestured toward the glowing water, the nervous energy creeping up your spine. “What if it’s, I don’t know, scalding? What if it burns me?” You glanced at him with wide eyes. “I’m not exactly in the mood to be turned into a crispy bacon today, thank you very much.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your concerns. “You’re overthinking this,” he said, his voice laced with mild amusement. “It’s not as dangerous as it looks.”

Your anxiety didn’t seem to ease. You slowly stepped toward the water, your eyes scanning the surface for any signs of heat or danger. “You’re sure it won’t burn me? Because I’m really not equipped for magical burns.”

Loki watched you, fighting back a grin. “You’ll be fine. It’s not as dramatic as you're imagining.”

Still, you hesitated, your heart racing. Your mind ran wild with all the possibilities—maybe it wasn’t just water. Maybe it was some sort of curse in disguise. Maybe it was boiling acid that would eat through your skin. Or worse, maybe it was a test to see how long you could stand the pain before... You shivered at the thought.

As you took a tentative step forward, Loki raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter? Scared of a little water?”

You shot him a glare. “I’m not scared. I’m just being cautious. There’s a difference.”

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please.” Before you could respond, before you even had the chance to think it through, he took a sudden step forward and with a swift motion shoved you into the pool, sending you stumbling into the water.

“Loki!” you yelped, flailing in surprise, your feet slipping beneath you as the cool water splashed around you. The shock of the sudden fall took the breath out of you as you splashed into the pool, sputtering as you broke the surface.

Loki stood at the edge, watching you with a satisfied grin, arms crossed. “You were taking too long,” he said, unfazed by your glare. “Besides, you were overthinking it.”

You glared at him, brushing your wet hair out of your face. “I wasn’t overthinking! You just pushed me in without warning!”

“Really now,” Loki drawled, his smirk widening as he noticed your flustered expression. “Do you honestly expect me to believe you would have acted on your own? Consider it a favor—one I’m sure you’ll thank me for later.”

You were drenched now, water dripping down your clothes, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of a sting in your chest at the sudden, unexpected splash. “I was thinking about it... slowly.”

Loki chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “No time for slow thinking. Now, let’s see what happens next, shall we?”

⠀⠀

As you mourned your state, the cold rippled across your skin, but it wasn’t the chill that caught your attention. The water around you began to shimmer, glowing brighter with every passing second. The air itself seemed to hum, pulsing with an energy you couldn’t quite comprehend. Slowly, an aura of light began to envelop you—faint at first, but growing steadily stronger. Your body began to glow, not with harsh light, but with an ethereal radiance, as though the northern lights had taken form within you. Soft, shifting hues—pink, green, blue, and violet, colors reminiscent of the Bifrost—wove through your skin, with a faint touch of gold cascading across your form like the flowing branches of a great tree, stretching to every inch of your being.

The glow, fluid and seamless, surrounded you in ribbons of light, as if you were the very embodiment of the auroras themselves. For a fleeting moment, it was as though you were no longer entirely tangible. Your edges blurred, your form rippling like water, the colors of the aurora intertwining with the essence of your very being. You seemed weightless, suspended between realms, as though the cave had absorbed you into its ancient roots, your presence melding with the very magic of the place.

Your glow was hypnotic, a thing of beauty and power. You seemed both present and absent, solid and ethereal, bathed in the light of a thousand unseen stars. The colors shifted and swirled, weaving through you, a dream only half-remembered, a story half-told. The entire cavern seemed to hold its breath, caught in the magic radiating from you.

Loki barely noticed the way his breath caught in his chest. “By the Norns,” he muttered under his breath.

For the first time in a long time, Loki felt small.

His gaze was locked on you, entranced. He had seen many forms of magic before, but nothing like this. It was as if you were a bridge, a living conduit for powers older than time itself. The air around you thickened, vibrating with an ancient force that seemed to pulse in time with your heartbeat. It was a weighty energy, something primordial, something far beyond the grasp of any ordinary god.

There was something more, something familiar, yet elusive. A pull, deep within him, that resonated with the core of his being. For a moment, he almost felt as though he were standing before something divine, something ancient beyond measure. The glow around you flickered briefly, revealing an intricate symbol—tree-like, its roots sprawling across your form like a reflection of your nervous system. It was so subtle, so fleeting, that Loki almost questioned if it had been real. A vision? A trick of the light? But the connection, the sensation, was undeniable. You were tied to something vast, something far older than anything he had ever encountered.

Then, as the colors of the aurora deepened, he could have sworn he saw it—the roots of Yggdrasil, stretching across the cavern, whispering through the light, intertwining with your very essence. The vision was brief, but the connection between you and the great tree was unmistakable. You were no longer merely a mortal. You were something far more. Something much greater.

Loki snapped out of his trance, shaking himself from the dizzying pull of your presence. His thoughts needed to settle, but the image of you, radiant and unknowable, had left an indelible mark on his mind. You weren’t just a mortal anymore. You were tied to something far greater than any of them. Something even he couldn’t comprehend.

But then, there was a shift.

The air in the cavern crackled with magic, and for a moment, Loki could only watch, intrigued, as you glowed with an otherworldly light. Your body shimmered like the northern lights, colors shifting in mesmerizing waves, casting ethereal reflections across the water. He couldn’t deny the effect it had on him—your beauty was undeniable, but it was the strange, potent magic swirling within you that truly captured his attention.

A subtle distortion rippled across your body as the pendant around your neck began to pulse, glowing with an intensity that made the air around them feel charged. Loki narrowed his eyes, sensing something was about to happen. This wasn’t just a glowing display of power—it was something deeper.

The pendant’s magic stirred, and from the center of your chest, a shadowy, serpent-like form emerged. It moved sluggishly at first, as though testing the air, then, with an unnerving speed, it coiled outward, slipping from the pendant like a living nightmare. Loki’s eyes flashed with surprise as the serpent’s body unfolded, scales shimmering with a dark iridescence, its glowing eyes narrowing as it circled the room ominously. It didn’t seem like a natural creature; more like a manifestation of some ancient magic.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Loki mused, his tone light but edged with intrigue. He watched the serpent glide through the air, its tail cracking against the cave walls with a hiss that seemed to rattle the very stone. “Should I be worried?”

He wasn’t exactly concerned—it was just another magical oddity—but there was something about the way it moved that made his curiosity flare. He had seen many strange things in his long life, but this? This was unlike anything he’d encountered before.

He looked to you for a reaction, but your gaze was locked on the serpent, your expression a mixture of awe and hesitation.

For a moment, the serpent paused, hovering directly above you, its eyes fixated on your face. It was as if it was waiting for something—waiting for you. The air grew thicker, charged with a tension that Loki could almost taste. Then, without warning, the serpent lunged, its massive body streaking toward you like a bolt of lightning.

Loki’s eyes widened, his reflexes kicking in as he moved forward, his hand outstretched, ready to intercept. But before he could act, the serpent vanished into your body, slipping right through you with eerie ease. The force of its intrusion jolted you, and you were thrown backward, crashing into the water with a splash that sent ripples across the surface.

Loki stood at the edge of the pool, momentarily stunned. His pulse quickened as he peered into the water, watching you disappear beneath the surface. For a split second, he wondered if he'd misjudged the situation—if he had waited too long to intervene.

The seconds stretched on like an eternity before, finally, you resurfaced.

Your appearance was… quite different from before. The faint glow that had enveloped your body earlier remained faintly, but now it clung to you like a second skin, subtle and ethereal. Your hair, damp and flowing around you, cascaded in waves down your back, each strand catching the light in a way that made you look almost unreal—like a siren from the depths of myth. Your robe, soaked through, clung to your form in a way that left little to the imagination and left the god breathless, and the water that trickled down your skin only seemed to enhance the otherworldly glow that surrounded you.

Your eyes met his, their usual sharpness now softened by the strange, lingering magic that swirled through you. There was a quiet moment between them, one that felt far too heavy for the situation at hand. Loki’s gaze lingered on you—on the way the water clung to your skin, tracing every line of your form, on the way your wet hair shimmered in the dim light.

For the first time, he felt something stir within him that wasn’t just idle curiosity or his usual inclination to tease. His eyes flickered downward, and a rush of warmth settled in his chest as the realization hit him like a force of nature.

You were stunning. No—more than that. You were... captivating.

It was the kind of attraction that came suddenly, like the snap of a string. He didn’t want to admit it, especially not to himself, but there it was. The light clinging to your skin, the way your body moved through the water, the delicate way your robe shifted, revealing more than it concealed—it was impossible to ignore.

Loki swallowed, his pulse quickening before he could rein in his thoughts. Focus, he told himself, but it was harder than usual.

His mind raced as he forced a casual smirk on his face, his usual playful tone returning. “That was... certainly a display. You might want to be careful about who—or what—you attract next time.” His gaze flicked over you, lingering just a second longer than he intended, before he shifted back to his usual playful teasing.

He wasn’t sure if he was still speaking about the magic or the effect you had on him. Maybe both.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable, still trying to compose yourself, but the moment of vulnerability—the way your eyes still held that same faint, ethereal glow—stuck with him. It was difficult to keep his mind from drifting back to the image of you, glowing like some otherworldly being.

Loki scoffed softly to himself, shaking off the sudden jolt of desire that had swept through him. He was Loki, after all. He was in control. But as he turned away, he couldn’t deny that something had shifted in his perception of you. Whatever power you had, whatever strange magic clung to you, it was only amplifying the attraction he hadn’t quite wanted to acknowledge.

It was a dangerous thought, one he didn’t dare explore too deeply just yet.

Your voice, though still shaken from the strange encounter, snapped him from his thoughts. “What just happened?”

Loki stepped closer, his gaze sharp and laced with amusement as he took in your glowing form. “Well, it appears you’ve made quite the impression,” he remarked, his tone light but tinged with intrigue. “I’d say I’m almost envious. Whatever that... entity was, it seems you’ve caught its attention—and perhaps more. Care to explain, or shall I start guessing?”

He crossed his arms, his mind already working through the possibilities, analyzing every detail. His gaze lingered on you a little longer than he intended, noting how the glow still radiated from your skin, subtle but undeniable.

You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of control. “That’s not exactly comforting, you know.”

“Not my problem,” Loki quipped, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “But I will admit, it’s an interesting little magic show you’ve got going on. I’m curious what comes next.”

Your eyes flickered with frustration, but you took a breath, regaining your composure as best you could. “I don’t know how many times I’m going to say it, but it seems it’s never enough: I didn’t sign up for this.”

Loki shrugged, his smirk curling wider. “Oh, I’d say you did more than that. At the very least, you provided some amusement.” He crouched near the edge of the pool, his gaze locking with yours, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “But I suppose you’ve earned a passing grade. It appears you’ve won its favor—or at least its tolerance.”

There was no immediate danger—just a strange, powerful magic coursing through you—but Loki’s mind spun with questions. And if he was being honest, there was something about you now, something different that made you undeniably more intriguing than before. He wasn't sure if it was the magic or your new... presence, but he couldn’t look away.

You wiped a droplet of water from your chin, your eyes still narrowed, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. You didn’t appreciate being mocked, especially when you'd already gone through whatever strange ordeal had just occurred. But Loki, of course, couldn’t resist taunting you.

"Yeah, real funny, Loki," you replied, rolling your eyes. "I’m sure you're quite entertained by this, aren’t you?"

His grin widened, the gleam of mischief in his eyes unmistakable. "I’m simply admiring the show," he teased. "You know I’m an amateur of the fine arts. I barely get to witness such dramatic performances these days."

You stood there in the water, trying to reign in your frustration, a slow smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He was so confident—so smug—like he didn’t have a care in the world. You had a feeling he wasn’t quite expecting what was coming next.

"You do love a show, don’t you, Loki?" you said sweetly as you stepped closer to the edge of the pool, your posture shifting in a way that was almost predatory.

Loki, caught off guard by the tone of your voice, tilted his head, arching an eyebrow. He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking over you with the same playful smirk. There was something about the way you moved—too graceful, too calculated—that gave him a sense of unease, but he couldn’t quite place why. His curiosity only deepened. You were as unpredictable as always, and that made you endlessly fascinating.

You braced yourself on the edge, pushing yourself up with a fluid motion, lifting your body out of the water slightly. Your eyes met his, and you leaned forward just enough for your faces to be mere inches apart. The air between you was charged, and you couldn't resist the chance to tease him back.

"You should really try it for yourself. It’s quite refreshing, being all… dripping wet," you murmured, your voice low and sultry, your lips barely brushing his as you spoke.

You tilted your head just slightly, allowing the water droplets on your skin to catch the light as you took another step closer. Your robe, still clinging to your form, glistened with water, and the ethereal glow clung to your skin like a second layer. Your eyes glinted with something so peculiar, and the slightest smile curved your lips. The air between you shifted, charged with tension, and Loki’s smirk faltered for a brief moment as you leaned forward just enough to invade his personal space.

"Hmm, I think you have," you teased, your voice low and enticing, drawing him in closer. You raised yourself a little higher, leaning just that bit more, your lips almost too close to his. "Maybe you even like it. Maybe you like watching me struggle helplessly..."

For a moment, Loki forgot the situation entirely. His gaze drifted downward to your lips, and he barely noticed the slight shift in your posture. You were so close now that his heartbeat was racing, his body nearly responding before his mind had a chance to react. It was that subtle, but enough to get Loki utterly captivated. She had ensnared him with a soft look, a playful gesture, and it was all too easy to get lost in your presence.

He wasn’t sure what was happening, but you were so close now—close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath, your scent all around him. Your lips were mere inches from his, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if you were actually going to kiss him. Without thinking, his gaze flicked up to meet yours, and your eyes sparkled with a knowing gleam, as if you’d caught him.  You could see the effect you were having on him—how his usual sharp gaze had softened, how the mischievous glint in his eyes had been replaced with something distracted, almost dazed.

"And maybe you don’t mind being part of it every now and then."

Loki's eyes widened as he snapped out of his trance, a sensation of weightlessness overtaking him in a split second. "Wait, what—"

Without warning, you grabbed him by the arm, your grip surprisingly firm, and yanked him toward you. With a sudden, swift motion, you pulled him into the pool with you, his startled yelp cutting through the air as the water splashed around them. He stumbled in the wetness, head first.

“How’s the water temperature?” You now sat perched on the edge of the pool, smirking, the faint glow still clinging to your skin like a siren’s call. You casually flicked a few damp strands of hair from your face, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

Loki gasped and blinked, dripping water from his hair as he pushed himself up from the surface, wide-eyed and dripping wet. "You—" he sputtered, glaring at you in disbelief. "You tricked me!"

You tilted your head to the side, your smile widening. "Oh, I think you let yourself get tricked," you teased. "You were too busy being entertained to notice what was going on right in front of you. I must say, I now understand your point; truly a sight for sore eyes."

He shot you a glare, but the heat that had flooded his chest earlier was still there—this time, it wasn’t just irritation. His pride had taken a hit, but there was something else too. A burning sentiment that he desperately tried to repress now more than ever, should he let his impulses rise and take over to provoke something regrettable.

"You’re lucky I’m feeling generous," he muttered under his breath, but his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long.

You chuckled, your eyes dark with amusement. "Maybe you should pay attention next time," you said casually, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. "You can’t keep mocking me and not expect a little retaliation. But for now, I’d say that’s a win for me, don’t you think?"

He didn’t respond right away, his mind already racing with plans for payback. But as he stood up in the water, still dripping wet and irritated, he couldn't deny the stirrings of something else—something that was entirely more complicated than just his usual urge to tease you back. The whole encounter had left him... flustered, unsettled, and, if he was being honest, curious in a way he hadn’t expected.

As he clambered out of the pool, water dripping from his clothes, he realized that this little game between them was far from over. And next time, he was going to make sure you regretted it.

"Enjoy it while you can," Loki muttered darkly, locking his murderous gaze onto yours.

You simply grinned, your eyes sparkling with that same mischievous light that had drawn him in from the start. "Oh, I sure do."

Loki, still dripping wet and clearly irritated by the prank, stood tall, his posture rigid with the lingering desire to regain control. But instead of moving to challenge you, he took a moment, eyes narrowing, scanning you with an almost predatory intensity.

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, no longer the teasing trickster but something sharper—darker. “Your boldness is gonna lead to your imminent downfall,” His voice was low, but the air around them crackled with energy, his irritation mixing with something else.

Your grin faltered for just a moment as you met his gaze, unsure of what to make of his sudden change in demeanor. “Oh come on, I’m just having a bit of fun,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Loki’s lips twitched upwards, but it wasn’t a smile. More like a challenge. “You’re playing a dangerous game, and I’m starting to wonder if you even know the rules.”

You tilted your head, taking in his shift. He was still teasing, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—a sort of curiosity, an intrigue he was trying to hide behind his usual bravado. And perhaps, for the first time, you were sensing a crack in his usually confident demeanor.

As you stepped back, just a little, you could feel the weight of the moment, the tension in the space between you. Your earlier confidence began to waver as you picked up on the way he was looking at you, no longer merely amused but almost calculating.

"I’m not afraid of games," you said, your voice a little quieter now, with a faint edge to it.

Loki watched you for a long moment before he spoke again, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You should be.”

Before you could react, he turned sharply, as if ending the conversation, and started to walk away, leaving you to wonder if that’s really the end of their playful rivalry—or if it was something else entirely, lurking behind a charade of endless banters. 

⠀⠀

As the last echo of their footsteps in the cave's entrance faded behind them, Loki and you stepped into the bright light outside. The sun bathed the landscape in soft golden hues, a stark contrast to the strange, eerie atmosphere they'd just left behind. But both of you were still drenched, Loki’s clothes dripping with water and your posture slightly stiff from the tension of the ordeal.

You’d barely exchanged a word as you emerged, the weight of your previous interaction hanging between you. Neither of you could deny that something had shifted, something unresolved that neither was eager to discuss. Loki was lost in his thoughts, glancing sideways at you with an unreadable expression.

But as you approached the clearing, standing against a large stone formation was none other than Frigga. Her presence was calming, and yet there was a knowing look in her eyes that immediately set both of you on edge.

“You’ve both made it out, I see,” Frigga said, her voice gentle but carrying an edge of authority. “I trust everything went well?”

Loki’s lips twitched into a wry smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As well as can be expected, Mother,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. The last thing he wanted was a conversation about what conspired within the confines of the underground chamber, or how the whole ordeal had affected him.

Frigga’s eyes shifted to you, a soft smile curving her lips. “And you, my dear? How do you fare after all that?”

You slowly met her gaze, still processing the surreal events of the day. “I’m... fine. Just a bit shaken, I think,” you said with a small, tight smile, the weight of the strange magic still lingering in your bones. “It was unexpected, to say the least.”

She nodded knowingly. “Magic always has a way of testing us when we least expect it. It’s not just about strength, but about understanding oneself in the face of the unknown.” She turned back to Loki, her expression softening. “You both seem... changed. A little more different than you were when you entered.”

Loki’s eyes flicked away from her, unwilling to admit anything. He didn’t like how much she could read into his silence. “We handled it,” he muttered, but it was clear to Frigga that he was brushing aside something deeper.

Her gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something serious in her eyes. “I can see that. But you seem… distracted.”

His shoulders tensed, and he tried to evade her penetrating stare with an insistent tone. “There’s nothing to tell, Mother.”

Frigga’s gaze sharpened for a moment, and she placed a hand on Loki’s arm, holding him there.  “I can see the truth in your heart.” Her voice softened, as though speaking only for him.

His eyes flitted to you, then back to his mother. He couldn’t seem to hold her gaze for long, the truth of his feelings hanging just out of reach, even from him.

Sensing his reluctance to speak his mind, the queen decided to take a different approach. She raised her hand slightly, and with a simple wave of magic, she reached into Loki’s mind, transferring a glimpse of his own emotions to her. His confusion, his attraction, the pull that was impossible to ignore. She felt it all, a brief but powerful connection.

When she released him, Loki staggered slightly, blinking as though coming out of a trance. His gaze shifted uncomfortably. “You’re always meddling in my head.”

Frigga smiled gently, a knowing gleam in her eye. “It’s my job, my son. And sometimes, it’s necessary.”

Loki opened his mouth to protest, but halted his movement as she raised a hand. “Not now, Loki. Not yet.”

He was silent for a moment, his frustration clear. “Fine. But I’m leaving.”

She allowed him that moment, her expression a mixture of understanding and mild amusement. “Go, then. But I will be waiting for you when you’re ready to talk.”

Loki nodded curtly, shooting one last look at you before turning to leave in a hurry, no doubt eager to escape whatever thoughts his mother had stirred up within him.

Frigga turned to you with a soft smile, one that carried a quiet weight. “You’re handling this better than he is, I think.”

You chuckled softly, feeling the weight of everything you had gone through. “I’m not so sure about that,” you said. “But... it’s certainly complicated.”

She placed a hand on your shoulder as you began walking toward the throne room. “Indeed. But I have no doubt you’ll handle it well. Now, come. I believe there’s something we need to discuss regarding what happened.”

As they walked side by side, her voice rose again and took on a slightly teasing tone. “Though, I must admit, you two are quite the pair. Loki doesn’t often find himself so... ruffled. It seems you’ve caught his attention in more ways than one.”

You looked at her, surprised by the comment. “It’s not like that.”

Frigga raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Isn’t it?”

You smiled wryly, unsure of how to respond, but the playful look in Frigga’s eyes made it clear that this conversation was far from over.

And as you approached the throne room, you couldn't help but wonder just how much Frigga truly saw.

⠀⠀⠀

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

taglist : @stilleobjection — @the-fandoms-onceler .

⠀⠀

dividers ©️ @angelremnants .

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[auspicioustidings]

Any version of Soap in any position of power would be soooo disgusting, calling IT Security reader at all times of the day and telling her that the speaker on his computer doesn’t work, while he’s clearly streaming some porno in the background 😭😭😭

You get it Lumi, he's a sick freak :) You also sent this while I happen to be working through 1k requests so bonus short for you <3

Back Chat

Words: 1k

CWs: non-con groping, just all around gross awful Soap

Sergeant John MacTavish was the reason you had poured over your contract for any get out clause that didn't cost you a fortune. You came up with nothing. The military had paid for a high end training course for you on the provision that if you left the role within 2 years then you had to pay every penny back.

Plus this job paid well and the benefits were great. You didn't even mind having gruff military personnel seeing fit to give you a bollocking over the phone because you would be following procedure whether they liked it or not and they could file a damn ticket if they wanted their issue looked at. Generally they were an OK bunch at heart, but rough around the edges and used to recruits eager to please them. When they realised your lack of any rank also excused you from being ordered around by anyone but your actual boss they usually mellowed out.

Of course you had made the mistake of chewing out one such gruff man after he called in a temper demanding that his laptop be fixed as a priority. Not even his work laptop, no he wanted his personal laptop fixed.

“Look MacTavish was it?”

“Sergeant MacTavish tae you.”

“No it isn't. I am not one of your soldiers. I work in IT for the military, your laptop is not military property so I'm not touching it. Use your big boy Sergeant wage and buy a new one.”

“Listen here ye wee bitch-”

You hung up on him and got on with your day right up until he physically showed up at your office on base. You handled IT for multiple bases, you had not considered that the person you had chewed out would actually work on this one. Oops.

He was a big motherfucker as well. Handsome. Crazy scary dog energy. Definitely not your usual soldier with his lack of uniform (unless jeans and a t-shirt that was so tight he was liable to tear out of it was uniform these days) and out of regulation haircut. You scrambled to try and stand but he was already looming over you in your chair, leaving you no space to do so as he settled his hands on the armrests and leaned over you to get into your face.

“I'll need tae settle for you then hen. Better make it good.”

“Excuse me?”

“The lassie on my laptop begs tae get it up the arse. Is a good girl for a thick cock pounding her tight cunt. Even when she's fucked oot her nut and ruined she still gags around a man down her throat and swallows like a proper bitch.”

You were flooded with fear and arousal. Nobody had ever spoken to you like that and you weren't entirely sure he was joking. He wouldn't actually do anything to you right? He was just being a dick because he wanted his laptop fixed. Just trying to intimidate you.

“And I bet she gets paid a lot more than me MacTavish, back off.”

Oh no. There was a feral gleam in his eye and a rabid grin that showed those sharp incisors. He clearly relished your response.

“Then I'll need to buy ye with, what was it? Right. My big boy Sergeant wage.”

He leaned in close and took a deep breath. Christ he was sniffing your currently greasy and messy hair. You hadn't showered in like 2 days, you were fucking IT, it wasn't like people usually came to physically see you in your little den.

“...I'll fix your fucking laptop oh my God just bring it by.”

“Atta girl” he all but panted into your ear before tugging at the lobe with his teeth and then fully tounging at your ear hole.

The sensation was truly the most awful thing you had ever felt. Your skin crawled and your body shivered uncomfortably as you tried to push him away from you. He chuckled and you choked on your own saliva as he firmly smacked your pussy before pulling away.

“I'll bring it right doon.”

You were left completely gobsmacked in your little office, your body hopped up on adrenaline and your cunt throbbing from the spank it had gotten and from the sick part of your mind that found the whole thing depraved and disgusting but sort of titillating.

When he brought the laptop back he hovered behind you while you worked on it, making you sweat. It was an easy enough fix and you sighed in relief and carefully avoided eye contact when you told him it was fixed.

“Ye’ll check it over, cannae be sending me away with a half done job.”

“You can see that it's working.”

He leant over, arms surrounding you so he could scroll over to open a video file. It was of a woman being railed hard from behind, drooling into the pillow and babbling for more. The wet squelch was disgusting, the man spitting down on her and smacking her already red ass.

“Speakers are fucked.”

You squirmed in your seat.

“I can hear it just fine.”

“Aye? What are ye hearing then?”

You remained silent, eyes fixed on the wall instead of on the screen. At least you were silent until he drew a yelp from you by groping one of your tits.

“Told ye, if ye cannae prove that it's fixed I'll need to settle for you. Bit shorter, softer and dirtier than my lassie mind, so got tae give it yer full effort.”

“I-It's working!”

“Prove it, what ye hearing?”

He made you replicate the whole script from each broken moan to the begging to the degrading. He was only satisfied when the whole video had run its course, by which time he had a hand on either tit, rough with how he groped and tugged.

“See now? Wisnae so hard to follow a Sergeant's orders was it?”

“No” you mumbled, crying out when he gripped your nipples through your shirt and twisted. “No Sergeant!”

He let go then, closing the lid of the laptop and standing with it to leave.

“Got an LT having trouble with his phone, he's naw as friendly as me though so best limit the back chat soldier.”

[perfectsunlight]

[21] ALL THESE YEARS

warnings: estranged familiarity, reunion discomfort, mentions of absent parenting

when jieun said she couldn’t make it to paris because she got sick, ivory felt as if she was going to explode. now, with her grandmother out of the picture, she was going to be alone with her mother for the first time in her life. the thought made her stomach churn.

the idol wasn’t sure how to feel either. the idea of spending time alone with jane was something she had longed for, but now that it was actually happening, she felt unprepared. 

jennie’s home was more of a showpiece, not the kind of place where she imagined raising a child.

as she walked up the driveway, ivory clutched her suitcase tightly, willing herself not to throw up from the nausea. the house loomed ahead, its sleek modernity a stark contrast to the cozy, lived-in comfort of her grandmother’s home. she could see the large windows, the clean lines, and the intimidating scale of the place. it was beautiful but cold, and it made jane feel even more out of place.

when she reached the front door, she hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell. the sound echoed through the empty space, magnifying her sense of isolation. after a few moments, jennie appeared, her face lighting up with a forced smile as she opened the door.

“hi, valentine,” jennie smiled, her voice tinged with nervousness. she had practiced that greeting for almost an hour beforehand. “come on in. i hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place.”

the younger girl managed a weak smile, her throat tight. “it was fine,” she said, stepping inside and dragging her suitcase with her. she glanced around at the immaculate interior, feeling a sense of discomfort. 

everything was so pristine, so perfectly arranged, and she felt like an intruder in this seemingly perfect world that her mother had built for herself.

the blackpink idol watched her daughter with a mixture of concern and helplessness. she had hoped for a smoother transition, but the anxiety written on jane’s face was obvious to her, even if her daughter didn’t know it.

after all, she was still her mother, and jennie could see the strain in jane’s posture and the uncertainty in her eyes.

“let me help you with your things,” the older woman offered, moving to grab the suitcase’s handle. “thank you,” jane replied softly, minding her manners and trying to steady her trembling hands. she followed jennie down the hallway, the silence between them heavy and almost oppressive. the house felt enormous, every room more intimidating than the last. 

it was clear that jennie had never intended for jane to come live with her here, and the reality of that unspoken truth was becoming increasingly apparent.

the atmosphere was thick with the awkwardness of two people who knew they were supposed to be close, but didn’t quite know how to be. it was spacious, tastefully decorated, and almost painfully neat—all those possible due to her absence.

there was no way the house would have been this clean if she had grown up here.

as they walked through her mother’s immaculate home, the silence between them grew heavier with each step. the stark contrast between this cold, polished space and the cozy, lived-in warmth of her grandmother’s house made jane feel even more out of place. 

she couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t belong here.

jennie, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the tension hanging between them. she glanced at jane, hoping to catch some sign that her daughter was okay, but jane’s face was a blank slate, betraying nothing of what she might be feeling. 

the distance between them felt almost insurmountable. thankfully, someone special was waiting for ivory just around the corner.

the little pomeranian bounded towards jennie, his tiny legs moving with enthusiastic energy. despite the chaos of the day, kuma’s presence was a welcome burst of normalcy. he bolted past his owner and ran straight to the younger version of her.

kuma barked excitedly, his tail wagging furiously as he reached ivory. she crouched down, arms open, and kuma leaped into her embrace, his fur soft and warm against her skin. the familiar smell of him, mixed with the faint trace of his shampoo, almost brought tears to her eyes.

“kuma!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. she hugged him tightly, her earlier nausea momentarily forgotten. kuma licked her face, his little paws resting on her shoulders as if he understood just how much she needed him.

jennie couldn’t help but smile softly at the scene. she always remembered how much of a fit jane threw the day kuma left. the separation had been tough on both of them, and it had taken a considerable amount of time for both of them to re-adjust. seeing her daughter now, hugging kuma with such relief, reminded the woman of just how much ivory had missed him.

“kuma can stay with you in your room,” the blackpink idol suggested as she motioned with her hands towards the hallway. she led the way, her footsteps soft on the polished floor.

young cat-like eyes brightened at the offer. kuma trotted eagerly beside them, his tail wagging with renewed enthusiasm. jennie could see how much the little dog meant to her daughter, and she was relieved to see a genuine smile on ivory’s face for the first time since they arrived.

as they reached the room, jennie pushed open the door, revealing a space that was carefully decorated but had a slightly impersonal feel. the walls were painted a gentle shade of ivory, and the room was furnished with a large, plush bed and a few framed prints of abstract art. it was clear that jennie had tried to make it comfortable, but it still lacked the personal touches that would make it feel like home.

“this is your room,” jennie said, stepping inside and setting down the suitcase she had been pushing. “i know it’s a bit different from what you’re used to, but i hope it’s comfortable enough.”

jane took in the room with a hesitant smile. she set kuma down on the bed, and he immediately jumped up and started sniffing around. the young girl sat beside him, her nerves beginning to ease as she watched kuma settle in.

“it’s nice,” ivory said quietly, glancing up at jennie. “thank you.”

jennie hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. “if you need anything, i’m just down the hall,” she pointed with her thumb in the direction of her bedroom, trying to sound reassuring. but the words felt hollow, even to her. “we could—um, we could order something for dinner later if you’re hungry.”

“okay,” jane replied, her voice barely above a whisper. she didn’t know how to act around her mother, how to fill the silence that stretched between them. “that’s fine.”

“i’ll, uh, let you settle in,” jennie said, forcing a smile before retreating down the hall. she mentally cursed herself for still not knowing how to make things less awkward. her own daughter was 18 years old and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still failing at the one thing she had always wanted to get right—being a mother.

jane sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at her hands. the room was beautiful, but it didn’t feel like hers. it felt like a space designed for someone else, someone who belonged in jennie’s world. maybe a manager or a stylist. she sighed, wishing her grandmother were here to bridge the gap, to make everything feel a little less foreign.

a few hours passed in uncomfortable isolation. jane stayed in her room, pretending to unpack her things, while jennie busied herself in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone, searching for takeout options, and making sure there wasn’t even a speck of dust to be seen. every so often, she would glance down the hall, wondering if she should go check on jane, but the thought of their stilted conversations made her hesitate.

finally, jennie mustered the courage to knock on jane’s door. “dinner’s here,” she called out, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “i got us some sushi. i wasn’t sure what you liked, so i got a little bit of everything.”

jane nodded, trying to ignore her heart sinking at the thought of another awkward meal. the pair sat across from each other at the dining table, the beautifully arranged sushi laid out between them. the atmosphere was painfully strained as they picked at their food, both searching for something to say but coming up empty.

“so, are you excited about paris?” jennie asked, trying to break the silence. it was a safe topic, something neutral, but even that felt forced. “yeah, i guess,” ivory replied, not quite meeting her mother’s eyes. she wanted to be excited, but the discomfort of the situation was overshadowing everything else. “i’ve never been before.”

“you’ll love it,” jennie smiled, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. “it’s beautiful, and there’s so much to see and do. i’ll make sure you have a great time.”

jane nodded, but the words didn’t have the desired effect. instead, they only highlighted how out of sync they were and how this trip felt more like a chore. on top of that, it’s not like they were going to spend any time together. 

kuma sat underneath ivory’s chair as he looked up at her with curious, sympathetic eyes. it was almost as if he could sense the discomfort. jane absentmindedly scratched his head, drawing a little solace from his company.

as they continued eating in a more comfortable silence, jennie glanced at jane, considering her next words carefully. she didn’t want to push too hard or make her daughter uncomfortable, but the thought had been on her mind since they arrived.

“valentine,” jennie started, her voice gentle, “i was thinking, if you’d like, you could change your flight and come with me tomorrow instead of flying out the day after. we could fly out together?”

jane looked up, surprised by the suggestion. the idea of spending even more time alone with her mother was daunting, but at the same time, there was a part of her that wanted to try. maybe flying together would help ease some of the tension, give them more time to figure things out.

“oh,” ivory answered gently, biting her lip as she considered it. “i don’t want to mess up your plans.”

“you wouldn’t be messing up anything,” her mother reassured her quickly. “i think it might be nice. i’ve always wanted to go to paris together and now we can.” 

ivory hesitated, her brow furrowing as she thought about the reality of the situation. “but how are we going to do this?” she asked cautiously. “i mean, no one knows about us.” 

the older woman’s smile faltered slightly as the weight of her daughter’s words sank in. it was true—her relationship with ivory had always been kept under wraps, a secret known only to jieun and teddy. having her daughter by her side in the eye of the public seemed daunting, but there was something about this moment that made jennie feel like it was worth the risk.

“you’re right,” jennie admitted softly. “it could be complicated. but maybe it’s time we stop hiding. i don’t want us to keep pretending like we’re not a family.”

the look on jane’s face was indescribable. the color drained from her soft cheeks, leaving her looking pale. her hands clenched slightly in her lap, knuckles turning ivory. she shook her head, eyes wide with alarm. 

“no,” she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. her eyes met her mother’s before she continued speaking. “we can’t do that.”

jennie blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her daughter’s reaction. “i mean it,” ivory added, her words spilling out in a rush. “i don’t want the world to know about me. it’s too much. they’ll tear me apart. they’ll tear you apart.”

her mother opened her mouth to respond, but jane kept going, her voice growing more serious with each word. “i’ve seen how they treat you, how they talk about you. the rumors, the pressure—everything. if they knew about me, it would just make things worse for you. i don’t want to be the reason your life gets even harder.”

jennie felt a knot form in her chest. she hadn’t fully considered how overwhelming the public reaction might be for ivory, how cruel the spotlight could be. it was one thing for her to face the scrutiny, but for her daughter to be thrown into that same world—it wasn’t something she could force on her.

“i’m sorry,” ivory whispered, her eyes downcast. “i just can’t do it.” her mother reached across the table, gently squeezing her daughter’s hand. “you don’t have to be sorry,” she said softly. “i didn’t mean to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

jane nodded, her shoulders sagging in relief, but the tension still lingered in the air between them. the idea of stepping into the public eye and finally being labeled as “jennie kim’s daughter” was too terrifying to even consider. 

she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready for that.

but she was still a daughter, and she wanted to be around her mother. 

“i’ll change the flight, but i won’t go in with you. i’ll go in after.” ivory said softly, her voice laced with a quiet determination. she looked up at her mother, trying to gauge her reaction, hoping that her mother would understand.

jennie’s heart ached, but she nodded slowly. “okay,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “whatever makes you comfortable.” her daughter gave a small smile, relieved that her mother wasn’t pushing the issue. 

the older woman sighed softly as ivory said goodnight and left to get ready for bed, a mixture of relief and sadness swirling within her. she had hoped for a different outcome, but she knew this was the best compromise for now. as much as she longed to openly share her life with ivory, to show the world her daughter and the pride she felt in her, she also understood her fears.

the yg idol sat on the couch in the dim light, the soft glow of the nearby lamp casting a warm circle around her. jennie held the photo album in her lap, her fingers tracing the edges of the worn cover as she hesitated before opening it. it had been a long time since she had allowed herself to look through these photos, each one a fragment of a life she had missed out on.

with a deep breath, jennie slowly opened the album. the first photo she saw was of ivory as a newborn, swaddled tightly in a soft pink blanket. her tiny face was barely visible, just a glimpse of her round cheeks and button nose. jennie remembered that day vividly—how small and fragile ivory had felt in her arms, how she had promised herself that she would protect her daughter no matter what. 

but that promise had been easier said than done.

she turned the page, revealing a series of photos from ivory’s first birthday. ivory was sitting in a high chair, her face covered in frosting as she reached for the cake in front of her. her eyes were wide with excitement, her mouth open in a toothless grin. jennie had been there that day, but she had left early for a performance, missing the rest of the celebration. seeing the joy on ivory’s face in those photos made jennie’s chest tighten with regret.

the next set of photos showed ivory taking her first steps, her tiny legs unsteady as she wobbled toward the camera. jieun had been the one to capture that moment, her voice encouraging ivory in the background of the video that accompanied the photos. as usual, she hadn’t been there; she had been on tour, performing on the other side of the world. she had watched the video later, tears in her eyes, knowing she could never get that moment back.

even now, it still brings her great disappointment knowing she couldn’t be there.

as the idol continued to flip through the album, each photo seemed to teleport her back to those earlier times. there was a picture of jane on her first day of school, clutching a bright pink backpack that was almost as big as she was. her smile was shy, a mix of excitement and nervousness, and jennie remembered feeling a pang of guilt when jieun had sent her the photo. she had wanted to be there, to walk her to her classroom, but her schedule had kept her away once again.

another photo showed ivory dressed as a black cat for halloween, her face painted with a smile as she held a pumpkin-shaped bucket full of candy. jennie had been at a photoshoot that night, once again missing out on the chance to see her daughter’s costume in person. 

the album was bittersweet, a reminder of how many moments she had sacrificed for her career.

they held memories of holidays spent apart, birthdays celebrated without her, and milestones that jennie had only experienced through photos and videos. there was a photo of ivory with jieun, the two of them standing in front of a christmas tree, their faces lit up with laughter. jennie had sent gifts that year, but she hadn’t been there to see ivory’s face light up as she opened them.

there were many years afterward where jane didn’t even open anything she sent her at all.

finally, jennie reached the last photo in the album. it was one she had taken herself, a rare moment where she had been there, present and in the moment. ivory was about six years old, standing on a beach with the ocean behind her. her dark hair was windblown, and she was laughing, her arms outstretched as if she were trying to catch the waves. jennie had taken that photo during a brief break from her tour, a few stolen days where they had escaped to the coast. 

it was one of her favorite memories, but even then, the time had been too short.

jennie closed the album, her heart heavy with the weight of all the memories it held. she wished she could go back, that she could have been there for all the moments she had missed. but as she sat there in the quiet darkness, she once again was reminded that she couldn’t change the past. 

all she could do now was try to make the future better, to be the mother that ivory needed her to be, even if it meant continuing to hide her daughter from the world.

exhausted by the emotions that the memories had stirred up, jennie leaned back against the couch, her eyes growing heavy. she didn’t even notice when sleep finally claimed her, the photo album still resting on her lap, a silent testament to the years that had slipped through her fingers.

and she also failed to notice the younger version of herself, now all grown up, quietly padding into the living room. ivory had been restless, unable to sleep as the weight of everything settled over her.

she knew why her mother had missed so much—jennie was an idol, a superstar with the world at her feet. but that knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less. it didn’t make up for the nights she had cried herself to sleep, wishing her mother was there to tuck her in. 

it didn’t make up for the times she had needed her mother’s guidance and had only found jieun’s comforting presence instead.

but as her cat-like eyes landed on the album, jane couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt she had never acknowledged before. it was the same feeling that had plagued her sleep this very night. it was impossible to ignore now.

was she a bad daughter for resenting her mother all these years?

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CLOSED.

[sabrondabrainrot]

OMG Nexus and Rez🌑👾

Hee Hee more catching up on my part but OMGEE just met Nexus. What a cutie!!! I love how he he has little man syndrome. He really had to remake himself to be sooOOOOoooo tall. I also just saw Lunar's dream and met that little guy Rez. Did a fun doodle of Rez. Liking the presentation.

There's a transparent Nexus under the cut. Also! I made a transparent version comparing my New Moon Design to Nexus design. I realized they're not much different and I think it's a really funny poetic irony. Except like, Nexus is way taller then his old self.

I burned my retinas to make this arttttt

Nexus the pookie!

Then the comparison! look at that slouch lmao. I imagine Nexus likes to loom because he is so tall now.

I loved how Ruin is so intimidated by Nexus lmao, Old Man literally having to work under an emo baby.

I didn't include my signature for the transparent versions just some quick disclaimers:⚠️

🚨I've never once consented to my art being reposted or uploaded to anything that's not my accounts.

🚨I do not consent, and never will, to my art being used to train AI.

Thank you <3

[anxious-witch]

Part three of height/stance analysis of DBDA character. This part is about the Cat King, mainly in regard to catwin, but I will briefly touch upon his few scenes with other characters too.

Charles's version, Edwin's version

So, the Cat King another character that take a dominant position in most of his scenes. Immediately, when we meet him, he is sitting on a throne, above Charles, Edwin and Crystal, which is meant to intimidate them and to show off his power over the situation. Focusing on that specifically, now we can notice a pattern-Charles gets lowered when he is feeling helpless, Edwin when he feels out of control and the Cat King when he actually loses the dominant role of the scene, aka the events aren't unfolding as he planned. Which are similar, but not exactly the same, which tells us a lot about each of them.

The Cat King is a magical being of unknow origin, so it makes sense his sense of self is tied into power. From what I noticed, that power comes from either intimidation or desire, or sometimes both.

So let's go back to the first scene where he appears. Crystal and the boys are naturally, intimidated by him, which is further exemplified by the fact that the Cat King doesn't even rise from his chair, and yet keeps his high ground.

When does he rise? When he is about to offer Edwin a private conversation, taking control more directly that way.

But notice the camera angle in this scene. Not only does it not show the Cat King and our trio(because we know very well both Charles and Edwin are physically taller, but it also shows him from a slightly lowered angle of the camera, so he appears bigger. Almost as if he is looming over them. Then, once he and Edwin are alone, we get to this.

The first time where the Cat King looks smaller than Edwin. BUT, take a look at Edwin, who is usually standing oerfectly poised and straight, looming over everyone and everything. Here, he looks almost slightly hunched down instead. But why is the Cat King smaller here, you may ask? Because he is trying to find Edwin's weak spot. He even says here "What should you punishment be?" Only when Edwin counters with "I don't see the harm in one little spell" does the Cat King resume his dominant position.

Looking at this two shots, Edwin looks almost timid, his usual height deemed irrelevant when he is alone in the shot, almost bledning in with the dark background. In contrast, the Cat King is illuminated, appearing bigger and more threatening, further highlighted by his satisfied expression.

This is followed by a scene where CT slaps the bracelet on Edwin.

When the Cat King leans in, die to the angle it looks like he is taller than Edwin. Because he figured Edwin's weak spot-his repressed sexuality. And here, Edwin is giving in to it, giving the Cat King the power to put the caging spell on him.

What I found interesting is that immediately after, the Cat King willingly sits down in his chair, leaving Edwin standing. He seems to work under a careful set of rules so once he brands Edwin with his bracelet, he briefly gives the power back to Edwin, in giving him a choice to give in to his desire. I talked about this in another post here, but the gist of it is that the Cat King forces him to choose between giving in to his desires(accepting his homosexuality) or face his flaw(his dismissivness of creatures and ppl he finds irrelevant to him).

Only when Edwin refuses to reclaim him power in accepting his inital offer does the Cat King rise again and assumes his dominant stance.

Now, let's analyze their second meeting. When Edwin arrives, the Cat King is lounging on the wall, lying down. He is still on a higher ground, but I find it interesting that he again, gives Edwin a chance to reclaim his freedom first. And he does so twice. Firstly, by giving Edwin a chance to tell him how many cats there are, and when he is wrong, to go along with his flirting. And when he doesn't, then the Cat King rises once again.

When he gets close to Edwin, we have, again another shot where CT looks taller. Because Edwin feels out of control when he is around, because he feels small in the face of his own desires. And the Cat King is aware of it.

Now, the firest scene is when things TRULY get interesting. By this point, we see Edwin gain much more confidence in himself and his feelings, partially due to accepting he has feelings for Charles and partially bc of his friendship/situationship with Monty. So when they meet each other in the woods, we get this shot.

Not only is there a very noticable height difference we weren't show before, but the Cat King is actively leaning down, leaning towards Edwin as he reveals Monty's betrayl to him.

Why? Because he realized Edwin was well on his way in winning his game. So here, he is trying to find his footing again, trying to appease Edwin. And I'd say he almost suceeds, because for a brief moment, when he is talking about Edwin owning him a thanks, they are on equal ground, height wise. But then, CT brings up a second kiss and that balance shatters. We get this shot:

Of Edwin cockying his head up and making himself appear taller, despite the camera angle not working in his favor. And of course, we then have Edwin walking away, with the camera showing how small the Cat King is in that moment as he makes his threat. Edwin turns back and then he is the one lowering himself on the Cat King's level to show off the bracelet and remind him that's all that he is to Edwin.

Reminding him that while Edwin can stoop to his level, they are not equal, and that Edwin understands his game now and that he is done with it. He took his power back.

I find the fact that their power dynamics are shifting sm throughout these soo fascinating, honestly. Their rs is so dynamic and it's shown so plainly through who is appearing bigger in that moment. But! Let's shift from catwin for a bit and take a look at another character that manages to be more dominant in a scene with the Cat King. Which is, of course, Esther.

Cat King tries his usual approach with her, with him sitting on his throne and not paying attention to her entering, but Esther clearly doesn't fall for that intimidation tactic, instead grabbing him by the throat and forcing him in a position where she is in control. It's not only violent, it feels almost degrading, given the way she does it and given what we know of the Cat King thus far.

And the thing is, even when he escapes her grip, he relinquishes the power to her, leaving her up on his throne while he is left standing down next to it, as people who usually visit him do.

I don't think I need to get into her literally killing him with her cane, and how he is literally at his lowest when he is lying on the floor. And even when he is resurrected, from then on, he seems noticably smaller in every other instance he appears in. Like he lost a fraction of his power. And even when he snarls at Esther and tell her to keep her hands off Edwin, the shot he is in purposefully makes the warehouse seem much bigger around him, while the shot of Esther is much closer up. Because she is a more threatening figure here now.

When Crystal and Niko come looking for his help, at first he appears behind them, as if he had to sneak in to his own warehouse. He gets back on his uplifted position later, when he does decide to help them and when he realizes he holds the power of having the information they want. But notice how he orders them to sit, so he can loom over them more. I'd guess that he has been made aware of his own vulnerability and powerlessness by Esther and he tries desperately to reclaim it in that moment.

Which is why his last scene with Edwin is so impactful! They have both been irreparably changed by circumstances. Where Edwin now stands taller, his confidence and power regained, Cat King looks almost comically tiny in comparison!

Look at that wide shot of the alley! Edwin's height is not only shown fully, it's amplified, and the Cat King's tight fitting clothes are making him seem even smaller and more vulnerable here.

Because in that moment, the illusion is fully shattered. Edwin calls CT out on his own loneliness and they are both aware he lost the game, because he is the one that fell for Edwin and he has nothing to keep him with anymore. But Edwin has grown too. He doesn't gloat in his power and in fact, when he kisses Cat King's cheek, he lowers himself on his eye level, so they are equals once more, in that brief moment. This time not doing it to hurt the Cat King, but rather to show affection and forgivness. He understands him now and he holds all the power.

Honestly, if we get a Cat King reappearance in S2, I'd love to see how their relationship would change. They are the ones whose relationship is the most dynamic and it's constantly about who will gain the upper hand.

As always, if anyone has anything to add/think I forgot something, olease feel free to add it

[kittarts]

How the hell did Wybie so tall?

When I was first designing their older versions I gave myself a few rules to keep me on track. Coraline had a lot but Wybie just had two which was;

Draw him in layers of clothing, keep it heavy.

&

Reference classic slasher ( because the film puts so much emphasis on Wybie being a creep/stalker/psycho with a three eyed mask I wanted to lean into that with his adult design. Having him look like classic horror movie characters like- )

(- these two for example. They’ve been in my Wybie Pinterest folder from the start, along with a lot of other material, but they were the main inspiration for his tall, looming and intimidating if seen in his mask in the forest form etc)

I hope that makes sense, there was a reason for it haha I just haven’t really had the chance to push into it just yet.

[allastoredeer]

manlyman al/uwu lucifer, buff al/skinny lucifer, lucifer in a drag with al dressed in a suit - all the same crap, it's also very noticeable how much of luci in dress with al in a suit there is and how little the other way around or when they both in dresses and also luci in dress? 10000+ likes, while rare alastor in dress? well, barely 1000 or 2000. Same with any reverse of usual fandom versions of them. Very telling if you ask me. Blond, short, goofy, did a sad face few times? Of course it's the one who's we gonna make a girly girl here and there's can be only one in our mlm ship 🙄 People want fanon charlastor but without charlie in it because she's actually a female

Damn, you came in swinging.

But, like...I see no lies here. It is kind of funny that people put Lucifer in dresses more than Alastor when Alastor literally wore a nun outfit in the show. It's such a shame too because with Al's long legs and slim waist, DAMN he'd look so good in dresses.

It is very telling that in every fandom space, with at least one pairing - usually a very popular one - one of two becomes a girly girl and the other a darker, menacing, and more intimidating manly man. There's nothing wrong with feminine male characters, nor them being in mlm relationship, but when it happens to every. Single. Ship. where the characters are stripped down to basic archetypes.... ಠ_ಠ

It really is funny, because going by what we've seen in the show, Alastor is so much more of a girly pop than Lucifer is. Him and all his little wrist flicks and sassy remarks.

I mean

Look at this guy

Look at him

LOOK AT HIM

LOOOOOOK AT HIMMMMMMMM

How can people see this man as a super serious big bad muscle daddy? I don't understand. He's so unserious. So full of whimsy. He's a clowning troll. And I'm telling you, look at that thin waist and those long legs. He'd look amazing in a dress.

This actually reminds me of a previous ask I got a while back. The topic was centered around some fans saying that Alastor would never bottom and the over all characterizations of him and Lucifer, and this line here sums it up perfectly:

"shows such a patriarchal-ly drenched heterosexual view of sex, that they then apply to a MLM ship that drives me INSANE."

Particularly, the drenched in a patriarchally heterosexual view. Having one man in a mlm relationship be more feminine than the other is totally okay, there is nothing wrong with that, and there are a lot gay relationships like that.

But the way a lot of radioapple is depicted feels weirdly heterosexual, and it's because of the behaviors and archetypes that get assigned to them. Lucifer becomes this teeny tiny, wide-eyed, awkward little waif and Alastor this big dark possessive boyfriend who's always looming over his shoulder and glaring at anyone who looks at Lucifer. It reads like every other cringy straight romance I've read. Add in the trope of Alastor drinking Lucifer's blood and it's basically "Twilight" set in Hell.

Okay, not to derail, but there was this one AU that I was obsessed with. It's a Hades/Peresphone AU for radioapple, and it sounded amazing, but there were so many depictions of Alastor as Hades and Lucifer as Persephone and I was just...

I was flabbergasted.

You have Lucifer, the king of Hell, the DEVIL himself, be the goddess of spring instead of the Lord of the Underworld. I'm....whut?!!?!?! Alastor is literally a deer, he would be perfect to play Persephone. That guy would be hunting down all the people poaching and harming his domain and making them suffer, and I can totally see Niffty as a psycho little nymph that tags along on his "hunting trips."

I've seen one or two au's where Alastor is Persephone and Lucifer is Hades, and they are glorious, but every time I see the opposite I feel like I'm taking psychic damage. A year of my life gets taken away. I fear I'll be on my death bed soon.

Also this line "People want fanon charlastor but without charlie in it because she's actually a female" it's so true to fandom it hurts, but it's so fucking funny, I'm wheezing

You ate with this ask 🤌

[queentheweeb]

Neteyam X Male Omaticaya Reader

A/N: I decided to make the sky people attack years later than they did, such as Neteyam already becoming Olo'eyktan. Also, for the sake of the story, your voice is the male version of Ninat.

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You were preparing for the celebration of Neteyam being crowned Olo'eyktan. His father Toruk Makto had passed it down to him and you couldn't be any prouder for him. You were intimidated more than anything. You had grown up with Neteyam, his family was used to your presence, and at first, you had seen him as a best friend, just a best friend but, once the two of you passed your Iknimaya those feelings changed. You started noticing how the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed when he pulled back his bowstring or when he went hunting with his knives or riding his Ikran. He wasn't the skinny fifteen-year-old with a crooked goofy smile that you fell in love with. He was a man that had his mother's face but, his father's build. He still had his loving, protective streak and was confident. His confidence is one of the things you love about him besides his heart. 

"Y/N! I need some help over here." You were brought out of your musings by your friends who were trying to hang up decorations and failing. They always used you for stuff like that because apparently, you have a 'sleeper build' as Jake had said more than once whatever that meant. Neteyam seemed to have approved so you weren't going to question or deny it.  You talked with them for a bit as you hung up the decoration in between the branches. 

"Do you think he is finally going to choose a mate?" You always hated that conversation and normally didn't participate because the idea of Neteyam choosing someone who was not you made you want to cry and vomit. You couldn't handle him being in love with someone else, you wanted him to love you, you wanted to go on hunts together, fall asleep together, cook, and do each other's hair. You wanted to give him all of you from the best to the worse. You've seen him when he was frustrated when he was upset and needed to put down his strong front. It was not fair for someone else to see him vulnerable when he trusted you and only you.

"Maybe he is? Maybe he already chose one and he is just waiting for tonight to make the announcement?" You felt yourself crinkling the decorations so you moved faster to get away from this conversation. Who could he have possibly chosen? He would have told you! At least you think he would have told you anyway, he trusted you, right?

"There are many women and men he can choose from. He is not short of suitors." That was true. That was a fact you couldn't even deny even if you wanted to. He had so many suitors for being Toruk Makto's firstborn, first son, being one of the youngest to complete his Iknimaya, and simply becoming Olo'eyktan. His personality was short of amazing too, always helping whenever he can, going on hunts and leading parties and even teaching and training others. He was very busy and very loved by his people which in your opinion made him the best candidate for becoming a leader. He was born for this, made for it. 

"Do you think he would choose a man or a woman?" You weren't entirely sure because he had flings with both men and women, you have both seen him and heard the stories from him. They were always satisfied but, Neteyam never looked satisfied. It was momentary satisfaction but, he always would seem unfulfilled and refused to talk to you about them, always changing the subject. You wish it was you he chose.

"Enough gossiping, Y/N is almost done with all the chatter you guys are doing." You hung up the last banner and turned to see Jake looming over the others who greeted him hastily, apologized, and scattered to set to work. You fondly rolled your eyes turning to face Jake and greeting him with a smile.

"Hi, Jake." His smile seemed to have brightened and you kept in mind to call him by his name from now on when alone. He always seemed happy to be reminded that he was just a single Na'vi and not someone with such a huge title. You probably would be the same if you were him. 

"Hi Y/N, you've been working hard I see." The two of you talked for a bit before he handed you two pretty armbands. "Can you bring this to Neteyam for me, please? He needs to wear them for tonight." You nodded your head knowing he was at his home. He had moved out a while ago and was not that far from you. You bidded goodbye to Jake heading towards Neteyam's home climbing the trees fast seeing his home with a private door on it. Stopping in front you knocked waiting patiently for his soft come in and when it did you entered. He glanced over his shoulder smiling when he saw it was you.

"Ah Y/N!" In a blink of an eye, he had wrapped his arms around you in a hug urging you to wrap your arms around his neck in tandem. You both pulled away and he still had an arm around your waist holding you close as he looked down at you with a soft look. "What brings you here? I thought you were busy decorating." You had to fight to concentrate, hyperaware of the muscles on his arm and the fingers that were ghosted above your hip barely any space in between the two of you. This wasn't the first time he did this but, it was just the two of you here, and with your feelings going awry it felt more intimate. You loved it. "Y/N, I asked you a question." He used his free hand to tilt your face up to him as he stared intensely at you making you nervous.

"I-I came to bring you your armbands. Your dad wanted you to wear them." Mercy was granted as he glanced down at your hands before looking back at you much too quickly. 

"Put them on for me, yeah?" You swallowed unable to find words as you separated the two armbands and placed one on each arm, adjusting them so that they were tight but, not too tight. Oh, you would kill to be able to sleep on his chest with those arms around you. "Y/N." You glanced back up at him figuring you were caught and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes to hide your embarrassment pressing a palm to his chest to push but, he didn't move at all. You found yourself frowning a bit. Strong bastard. Your ears went up when he grabbed your hand on his chest and squeezed it. 

"Teyam what-" You were caught off guard by him pressing a kiss to your lips and you let out a noise of shock. He pressed more firmly moving his hand from yours to hold the back of your neck to manipulate you the way he wants. You found yourself melting into the kiss wrapping both hands around his neck to bring him closer and he hummed approvingly. He pulled away first, his eyes dilated and panting softly.

"Fuck, I wanted to do that for so long." You blinked up at him before pressing your face into his chest to hide. You felt him chuckle as he moved both arms down to your waist. "You're so cute, I always noticed the way you looked at me, the way you took care of me and were there for me ever since we were kids." You said nothing, choosing to listen to this sudden confession. It was as if your dreams were coming true. "I wanted to be good enough for you, I wanted to accomplish everything so you can be proud of me. It was always your eyes I seek, your approval I wanted." You found yourself blinking looking up at him to see him looking down at you with a serene smile.

"You've always been perfect to me, even when you thought you weren't. You've always been enough for me." He blinked letting out a breathy laugh and pressing your foreheads together inhaling each other's scent. This was everything you've wanted, and been dreaming of for years. 

"After the ceremony, let's go to the tree of voices...I wanted you for so long, I need to have you for the rest of my life." You blinked in shock looking back up at him. "I am not changing my mind, I've been patient enough, I know you want me as much as I want you. I choose you ma Y/N." You felt your eyes dilate in tandem with his at those words

"As I choose you ma Teyam."

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I'm still getting the hang of writing male readers and if you guys want a part two to this I can make one!

[turbotasthick]

TURBOS RATES ATTRACTIVENESS: THE VILLAINS

Im bored and i want to rate villains via how sexy they are. I will only be doing TSAMS AND LAES :3 (it will be unbiased.)

i will be ranking their Sexiness to these factors:

appearance AND hygiene i will be UNBIASED. (ill try mY BEST) (tell me who i missed so i will add)

LETS BEGIN:

NEXUS: 10/10 He has the body of your average model. he has that sterotypical bimbo build dudes salvate over. Hes got big tits, a grabbable waist and an ass for days. 5

His hygiene is great. I know he has constantly having to make repairs and general maintainence on himself because of the nsp fucking his systems up- thats why he has to be careful, and be neat and clean. 5

Hes a little crazy, but thats what makes people HOT imo

LORD ECLIPSE: 10/10 muscular build. Body of a warrior. Hes tall, hes intimidating-- looms over you if that isnt hot then i dont know what is! His fashion sense is also-- quite litterally beautiful armour.... 5

his hygiene must be impeccable. his ego dosent allow him to stoop so low to smell bad im ngl. his standards for cleanliness is much more higher then sun. 5

smart mouthed, sassy, bitch. Powerful. mother fucking top energy? hot. 10/10

DARK SUN: 10/10 he has that triangular shape ahh build- a TWINK if you will. tall, dark red eyes- do i HAVE to explain?....and his FASHION?? SUITS, VESTS, TIES? it is very attractive, very clean, neat, and professional-- its giving 50s male office worker, its giving office siren... 5

i think this sun takes care of himself really GOOD. Since his moon isnt there to boss him around and pressure him- i think he sometimes even puts perfume (NOT AXE BODY SPRAY FUCK YOU) 5

honestly??? quiet, calculating, liar AND manipulative? thats something straight out of some horror romance or some shit 10/10

FELIX: 6/10 he has the beauty of a biblically accurate angel. honestly? golden skin, a halo? and modest draped clothes-- hello? hes a pretty boy honestly...but some people could see him as intimidating so i have to say 4

hygiene... hes a scientist and a very loyal dog to the creator. i think he would be a bit too busy looking after his hygiene...until the creator would call him out. i will say 2

BLOODMOON (new): -3/10 he looks very CUTE but not HOT. his big head and large smile makes him look cute. his hypno eyes are UNIQUE. His fashion sense is a mess... ugly clothes- i know he wouldnt care what he wears as long as it covers himself up- and its not even in a fashionable way. i give him a 2 (he has points for being cute ill give him that ) all this bitch cares about is blood. i feel like he would LOVE being stained in blood, and refuse to wash his clothes, brush his teeth- and scrub his body, so long as he can smell blood and engulfed in blood. I give him -5. im sorry bm simps. BLOODMOON (og): -2 HE LOOKS REALLY CUTE. however hes short....but he has good proportions unlike his newer version. great smile, however fashion? litterally just those pants. baggy shit. ugly way. i give him a 3. same thing. the shittiest hygiene. -5 ECLIPSE (OG): 10/10 TALL DARK AND HANDSOME. i like to think he dresses pretty amazing cause he has a big ego and to show off hed wear stuff like suit and ties. honestly? 5 hygiene is decent in my opinion. 5 LUNAR (when he was a villain): 6/10 he has that cute short boy factor. light blue- its giving uwu soft baby vibes...but honestly he had such a weird color palette. i think ill give him a 3 for this hygiene....i think its more better then current lunar. cause look: eclipse WOULD force him to clean himself so ill give him a 3 THE CREATOR: -5/10 hes a brain. 0 why the fuck would you put soap and water on a brain? wouldnt that licherally fucking harm him? and hes a scientist who only ever cares about his intelligence. bro has not touched a deodarant stick in years. -5

RUIN: 9/10 he has that shawty vibe. like- hes short but i think he has a cute butt (im actually fucking serious. he is the type to have a cute looking butt) i think his fashion is cute... however tbfh i hate that his hat makes him look half bald. its a 4 for me he has decent hygiene, ngl. i think im giving him a 5 EVIL LUNAR: 5/20 its kinda giving cute? he seems like those types of guys who wear cute frilly lolita stuff and honestly thats CUTE not HOT tho. however im giving him a 3. (i minused points cause his color palettes ugly ngl) i think he has poor hygiene but not as poor as our lunar. im giving it a 2 EVIL EARTH: 10/10 OK. IM NGL. I THINK HER FASHION IS ON FLEEK. ITS GIVING OFFICE SIREN ITS GIVING ELLE WOODS. ITS GIVING PANTSUITS. shes HOT NGL. AND TALL. SO 5 WHOLE HEARTEDLY. 5 shes the type to take care of herself- the type to do self care days. manicure, pedicures, the whole shebang. i give her a 5

[thelibrarian1895]

Bats and Time Travel

First, a disclaimer, I have only some minimal level of Booster Gold knowledge.

That being said, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that detective work isn't his strong suit, or the strong suit of most time travelers. Why would it be when they can just peak into the past and see what happened? So when something comes up and it's less straightforward than obvious bad guy needs a beating, Booster is at least smart enough to get expert help. On occasion that expert help has to go through time with him. He has to be very careful with this because no one wants another Flashpoint and he doesn't want to clean up any time shenanigans. The same goes for any other time related incident.

Bats are, of course, the go to for anyone who needs expert detective assistance. You can generally just grab any Bat and they can fill in as a detective though some are happier about it than others. Some are also more suited to time travel than others.

Batman works out well enough. He can be more or less trusted not to go off and mess with the timestream and cause some sort of catastrophe that takes forever to fix. Things get a little dicey if any case brings the Bat around Gotham or near one of his kids in the past. It becomes an exercise of restraint for both involved because B very much wants to go to his child and protect them/lecture them/hug them depending on the timeframe or at bare minimum loom over them. Booster has to sometimes physically get in the way to stop this. It doesn't always work. B is at least polite enough to fix the mess. Batman has trouble with alternate universe or alternate timeline adventures since he has to so often beat other versions of himself up and comes back extra broody. His family appreciate when he gets to the self reflection and determination to improve part after he's done brooding.

Nightwing is good to work with during time related incidents. Very professional, very cheerful, but still kept out of Gotham and very reluctantly kept from his past self because Nightwing really wants to give his past self a pep talk more often than not. Nightwing has, however, written letters for his past self that has resulted in a few branching new timelines or a mess that he was polite enough to help fix. Nightwing is allowed on alternate universe adventures which lets him give those pep talks to himself that he knew he desperately needed/wanted at those various ages.

Red Hood is not allowed on time travel cases because Jason has poor impulse control and has on more than one occasion killed someone who would commit a terrible crime in the future and ended up causing decades worth of a mess that needed to be cleaned up. He is responsible enough to fix his own messes and is only allowed now in alternate universe adventures. He's good at alternate universe adventures and they've helped him remember to rely less on hearsay and more on solid evidence.

Red Robin is Booster's favorite to work with because the kid can be snarky if caught in the right mood and the worst he has to worry about Red Robin when it comes to damaging the timeline is Red Robin taking pictures of various incidents. Red Robin is also polite enough to direct all attention Booster's way which appeases Booster's attention seeking nature. This is how Tim has the best collection of Batman tripping on his cape pictures and other similarly embarrassing incidents of his friends and family. Tim is allowed on alternate universe adventures and again returns with more pictures that his friends and family can't prove aren't them. He is developing an alternate tim support group to try to prevent additional gun batmen timelines. And, as he tells his brothers on occasion, so he can have intelligent conversation with family when Cassandra is away.

Black Bat would be Booster's favorite to work with except he's extremely intimidated by her, even more so than he can be by Batman. She has deliberately allowed herself to be seen in the past on occasion and those sightings in certain conspiracy forums as a cryptid. She's very proud of it. She is also a cryptid in other alternate timelines but is no longer allowed to go to alternate timelines after she has had to be restrained from adopting/kidnapping alternate versions of her younger self or her siblings.

Spoiler is also not allowed on time travel cases for the same reason as Jason, poor impulse control. She may have set off glitter bombs that resulted in a timeline mess almost as impossible to clean up after as the glitter. Her ability to help with alternate universe adventures is under review because, again, glitter bombs.

Robin aka Damian has worked in a timestream case once and came back with a dodo bird. Booster is glad that the kid allowed himself to be persuaded that there wasn't enough room to bring back the mastodon. He is not allowed to work on timestream cases until he can be trusted not to come back with extinct species. He is also not allowed to go on alternate universe adventures after he came back with another dragon bat he has named Desdemona.

Signal takes advantage of timestream adventures to fact check the crazy nonsense his siblings have told him. Booster likes the kid well enough and the invisibility does make things easier at times. The only reason he's not Booster's preferred Bat is because Signal is more naturally charismatic and people pay more attention to him than to Booster and also Signal needs to work on his confidence in his detective skills. He gets migraines dealing with alternate universe adventures and so tries to avoid them when possible.

Alfred has gone on ONE timestream adventure. Booster does not speak of the adventure. Alfred will just smile slightly if asked. Alfred is not allowed on alternate universe adventures because the Bats in his home universe get sullen and withdrawn without him and at least one kitchen fire will occur. His alternate selves are also possessive of their respective kitchens and do not appreciate intruders, even if the intruders are themselves.

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away: Chapter 5

Fun fact, the scene that happens towards the middle/end of this chapter was the first scene I ever thought of for this story. Or at least, some version of it. It's changed quite a bit since then, but I like the version I have now. I hope you do too!

Link to Masterpost

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Encouragement

1.8k words

(CW: Little bit of body horror)

Marta Castillo was struggling. Her son, Trevor grew more and more distant every day. He spent most of his time alone in his room, and only left the house to go to school. She knew she had to do something to help him out, but was at a loss as to what she could do.

She mulled all of this over as she walked the path to their apartment. The only thing she could think to do was to try and make him feel better about the changes he was going through. Maybe if she could show him that things weren’t all bad, he’d cheer up some.

A voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Marta, hey!”

She looked over to see her downstairs neighbor, Anne Murphy waving to her from the doorway to her apartment.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Murphy,” she said as she approached.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, how’ve you been?”

Marta gave her a polite smile. “Well, thank you.”

“How’s that son of yours?”

Marta’s smile grew strained. She knew Anne was only asking to be nice, so she withheld an honest answer.

“He’s alright,” she told her.

“Good, good. I feel like I never see him around anymore.”

“Anyways,” Anne continued, “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I keep hearing the floor shaking from upstairs, so I was wondering if everything was alright?”

Marta’s smile was slowly transforming into a grimace. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

Mrs. Murphy didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

“That’s good to hear. Do you think you could keep it down early in the mornings? The husband and I keep hearing it around 6 am. Of course, he doesn’t mind since he’s up that early anyways, but some of us like to enjoy our beauty sleep!”

She laughed as if she’d said something hilarious. Marta joined in nervously.

“I’ll—uh, try to keep that in mind. See you around,” Marta said, heading up the stairs to her own apartment.

“Alrighty, dear. Look after yourself,” Mrs. Murphy called up after her.

Marta shut the door behind her with a sigh, taking a moment to recover from the conversation. Then she called out to Trevor.

“Mijo, come help with the groceries!”

“…Do I have to?” came the response from behind his closed bedroom door.

“Come on, it’ll only take a minute,” she called back.

There was a brief pause. Then she heard the floor creaking as Trevor stood up and walked to his door. The door opened, and he bent over to fit through the doorway. He stayed hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.

As he walked over to her, Marta could feel the thumping of his heavy footsteps. She’d have to remember to tell him to keep his steps lighter in the mornings for Mrs. Murphy. But that could wait for another time.

He stood over her, staring down at her, as he waited for her to tell him what to do. She wasn’t intimidated by his imposing figure; he was her son after all. But his looming over her did make her a little uncomfortable.

She opened the door and led him outside. He followed her down the old wooden stairs to the landing below. The stairs creaked ominously as they walked, but they held his weight.

Mrs. Murphy still stood in her doorway, reading her mail. She looked up with a friendly smile when she heard Marta coming, but it fell from her face as she saw Trevor following behind her. Her eyes widened slightly, before she gave him a curt nod and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

Trevor sighed dramatically. Marta did her best to ignore it.

She led him over to the car and opened the hatch in the back. Trevor kept looking around to the other apartments, like he was worried someone was watching him. She snapped her fingers to get his attention, then gestured to the groceries in the back of the car.

He gathered the groceries without protest, slinging multiple bags on his arms. He carried all of the groceries with ease. What would have taken her multiple trips was cut down to one with his help. She closed the door and grinned up at him.

“It’s so convenient having a son like you around,” she told him, patting his arm.

“Sure,” he answered indifferently.

He followed her as she led the way back to the apartment. She held the door open as he awkwardly squeezed through. With the bags hanging off of his arms, he had to scoot in sideways.

“Where do you want these?” he asked her.

“In the kitchen,” she said, closing and locking the door behind her.

He set the bags on the floor and began to shuffle off.

“Hang on,” she stopped him. “I need your help putting these away.”

Trevor shrugged, then turned back around to help.

She joined him in the kitchen and began unpacking all of the groceries. He helped out where he could. He watched with some discomfort as she brought out more and more packages of food, more than she could eat in a week.

“Mamá, you don’t need to keep getting this much food. I’m getting those meal-replacement thingies from the institute, remember?”

She gave him a doubtful look. “And how do they taste?”

“…Not good,” he admitted.

“Right,” she smirked. “It’s not an issue, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks,” he told her, though it wouldn’t keep him from worrying.

They settled into a comfortable silence while they put everything away. That is, until Trevor heard his mom struggling with something. He turned to see her with a jar of peanut butter in one hand, straining to reach the top shelf of the cabinet above the counter. Just when he thought she was about to start climbing, he stepped in.

“Here,” he said taking it from her hand. He stepped past her and placed it on the shelf, which was below eye level for him.

“See, isn’t that nice?” she said. “It’s nice to be able to reach this stuff, huh?”

“I get it,” he told her with a small smile. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

“Hey, come here,” she said, spreading her arms and waving him towards her. He leaned down and wrapped her in a hug. It felt a little strange being able to completely envelop her in his arms. She rubbed his back comfortingly.

“Te amo, mijo.”

“Te amo, mamá.”

Marta leaned away to get a good look at him. She noticed some scratch marks on his neck that went under his shirt.

“What’s this?” she asked, tracing the scratches on his neck.

“It’s the shirts the institute gave me. They’re so itchy.”

“You don’t have to wear them. We can get you something else.”

“From where? I’m pretty sure the institute is the only place that makes clothes my size now.”

She frowned, but of course she had no argument. Trevor let her go, standing up again and going back to putting things away. Soon enough, she joined him, and they fell back into silence.

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Marta was up much too late that night. She had work the next morning; she couldn’t afford to be up on her laptop. And yet, here she was, tapping away at the story she’d been working on.

She liked to write in her free time. Little short stories, poems, excerpts from her life and all that. She sometimes dreamed of getting something published, but she knew it’d probably never happen.

Her eyes were beginning to feel sore from staring at the screen. She leaned back and rubbed her eyes to give them some relief. Then she stretched her arms above her head. As she did so, she heard a sound in the darkness.

She closed her laptop and listened carefully. Straining her ears, she could just barely hear the sound of Trevor’s breathing hitching.

Setting her laptop aside, she crept over to his door. She pressed her ear against it to try and hear what was going on. After a minute, it became clear to her what that sound was. Trevor was crying.

She knocked softly on the door. “Mijo, is everything alright?”

There was no response. She cracked the door open as quietly as possible.

In the low light, she could barely see. Trevor was too big to fit in his bed with the bedframe anymore, so they’d put his mattress on the ground for him to lay on. He was curled into the fetal position to fit on it as best as he could, but his legs still hung off the end.

He looked up as she opened the door, eyes shining with tears. She felt a pang in her heart as their eyes met. She rushed over to his side.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling next to him.

He sniffled; his eyes red from crying.

“Everything hurts, mamá,” he whined. His side rose and fell unevenly, his breathing ragged.

“Here, move over,” she told him. He did the best he could to make room for her, and she climbed in next to him.

“Come here,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his. He sobbed quietly, shaking the both of them.

Underneath the sound of him crying, she could hear an odd popping sound. It was almost like the sound of joints cracking over and over. Every once and a while, after a particularly loud crack, he would flinch.

She struggled to imagine the pain he was in. She’d had growth spurts, sure, but nothing that came close to this. Her heart ached for him.

“Ay, mijo,” she whispered, stroking the back of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her closer. She was wrapped up so tightly she could barely move, although it didn’t really matter. She had no plans of moving any time soon. The only thing that mattered right now was making sure that her son would be alright.

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Marta awoke with a start after starting to nod off. Trevor was still now, his breathing even. His side rose and fell slowly.

She could rest easy, now.

Figuring it would be best for her to go to her own bed, she tried to slip away without waking him. She let go of him and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. He must have felt her moving, as he only gripped her tighter.

“Mijo, I can hardly breathe,” she joked.

“Don’t go,” he pouted, only half-awake.

She sighed in defeat, but smiled softly. At his age, she never got to snuggle with him like she did when he was a kid. She’d take her victories where she could.

“I’m right here,” she told him. “Don’t worry.”

He let out a contented sigh, relaxing his arms enough for her to move again. She settled in, ready to pass out herself.

In the morning he’d surely be embarrassed to wake up like this. But for now, she’d enjoy this quality time with her son, both of them sleeping peacefully.

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