#to live in a world where people think he and his brother are assholes????!!!!! it disgusts me

[finndoesntwantthis]

Anyway I’m thinking about baby 19 year old Matt Jackson being told by one of his heroes that not only is that hero gay, but that he has a crush on him, and that young, young, young man taking that into his heart, telling his hero he still loves him, and continuing to be there for him during terrifying mental health scares to the end. To have to take on those things he’s never experienced at such a young age and to have grown into an even more empathetic and sweet human being…Matt is one of the good ones 🥺

[turcott3]

safety net

jack hughes x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, semi slow burn, a kiss, angst and some fluff ofc

positions masterlist!

~trippin’ fallin’ with no safety net~

-

you made your way into the bar, as it was your first weekend living in jersey. you walk in and head straight to the counter, asking for a drink that was sweet and didn’t taste too strongly of alcohol.

“hey stranger.” a voice says to your right and you turn your head.

“dawson?” you say, your eyes widening.

“hey y/n.” he says opening his arms for you to hug him, which you gladly accept.

“how have you been? oh my gosh it’s been what like 3 years.” you say smiling at your old school friend.

“i��ve been good, playing hockey here is fucking awesome.” he says.

“yes! that’s right you play for the devils, how could i forget you getting drafted!” the two of you laugh.

“well how’s your boyfriend? haven’t seen him in a few years either.” he asks curiously.

“funny you should ask, i broke up with him and that’s why i moved here.”

“wait really? why? you don’t have to explain if you’re not comfortable.” the brunette boy asks leaning on the counter.

“well things were so great when we started dating our senior year but within the last year he became a real fucking asshole, so i broke it off and moved away so he couldn’t try to find me and sucker me into being with him again.” you explain, leaving out any details you weren’t ready to share.

“well shit, i’m sorry y/n. i bet that hurt a lot.”

“it did but i’m over it, ready to find someone else.” you say and you practically see the light bulb turn on over his head.

“i think i have someone i want you to meet.” he smirks. you grab your drink and follow close behind him, holding onto his arm.

“hey jack!” dawson says to a brunette boy with bright blue eyes.

“what’s up daws, who’s this?” he says looking at you. you release dawson’s arm and give him a smile.

“jack this is y/n, y/n this is jack.” he says looking between you two.

“nice to meet you, jack.” you say.

“yeah, you too.” he smiles, causing a blush to burn in your cheeks.

“i have to go to the bathroom, you two have fun. don’t get too drunk.” he says giggling and walking off to the bathroom.

“so y/n, what brings you to jersey?” he asks.

“just needed a change of scenery from my hometown. dawson and i went to highschool together.” you tell him.

“oh wow, small world. are you still new to living here or?”

“yeah this is only my first weekend but i’m glad im already meeting people, it was getting pretty lonely.” you laugh.

“well now that you’ve reconnected with dawson, you have a whole new group of people to hang out with.”

“oh are you guys like on the same team?” you ask.

“yeah we are, my brothers around here somewhere. probably tongue deep in some random girl.” he laughs.

“is he older or younger?”

“younger.” he says taking a sip of his drink.

“oh nice.” you smile doing the same.

“can i get your number?” he asks.

“yeah of course.” you say as he hands you his phone.

“what have i missed?” a tall, curly haired boy asks.

“ah yes, y/n, this is my brother luke.”

“nice to meet you.” you say.

“nice to meet you too.” he replies.

“so where were you?” jack asks as i hand him his phone back.

“i was talking to john but i didn’t wanna ruin his game so i came back.” he laughs.

“johnny getting some ladies?”

“he sure was.” luke laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

“i see you’ve met the other one.” dawson says returning from the bathroom.

“yes i have.” i laugh at him. you spent the next 2 hours with the boys, enjoying their presence and the fact that you’d made some friends in your new town.

“well i think im gonna call it a night.” you say taking the final sip of your drink.

“let me walk you?” jack asks.

“yeah sure.” you accept and the two of you make your way out of the bar.

“did you walk here or drive?” he asks stopping once you made it outside.

“oh i walked, i live like two blocks away.”

“okay cool, show me the way.” he says.

“jack you don’t have to.”

“i’m not letting you walk back to your apartment by yourself at midnight in a big city y/n.” he says firmly.

“oh, thank you.” you blush and begin your walk to your apartment. the walk was filled with small talk and laughter, the chemistry between you two growing more and more with seemingly every step.

“well this is my place.” you say arriving at your door.

“alright, have a good night y/n. i’ll text you.” he says as you pull him in for a side hug.

“goodnight jack.” you say shutting the door behind you. it’s been 5 days and you already have a crush on someone you just met. it felt almost wrong. you had broken up with your boyfriend just two weeks ago. you couldn’t allow yourself to move on too quickly. your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you see that dawson had texted you.

dawson: glad you made it back safe!

y/n: thank you! except really you can thank jack

dawson: hahaha well i guess so🙄 have a good night y/n

y/n: you too, see you again soon?

dawson: yes for sure, season starts in like a month and a half i’m sure you’ll get sick of seeing me

y/n: doubt it

dawson: only bc ill bring jack

y/n: bitch

dawson: i’m messing with you lmaooooo goodnight y/n

y/n: goodnight daws😭

-

you woke up the next morning to a text from jack saying good morning, to which you replied with a simple, good morning. texting a new guy felt so wrong. you didn’t know what to do about it but you couldn’t ghost him so you figure you should just keep chatting and see what happens.

“lunch?” you say reading his next text. the boy asked you to lunch, to which you hesitantly agreed to join him. you made yourself a small breakfast to tide you until lunch. you sat on the couch watching tv, growing more nervous by the second. he didn’t ask you on a date, just lunch. maybe he just wants to be friends? after you ate, you put on a casual outfit and added a natural touch to your makeup. he texted the address and you left your apartment, hoping to arrive after him. once you arrive at the, what appears to be, small coffee shop, you’re greeted by jack smiling at the counter.

“sorry i’m a little late.” you laugh nervously.

“no don’t worry, i was just about to order. what do you want?”

“oh jack you don’t have to pay i can’t wait in line.” you say.

“now what kind of man would i be to let a pretty girl like you wait in line and pay for her own food?” he says boldly, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“an iced vanilla latte and a buttered croissant is good then.” you simply reply, finding a seat at a table by a large window. he meets you soon after, with a table number in his hand.

“you ever been here before?” he asks, noticing you staring out the window.

“i haven’t, i didn’t even know it was here until you told me about it.” you say redirecting your attention to the boy who already had his eyes on you.

“i come here sometimes, it’s like my special little spot for special occasions.” he smiles leaning back in his chair.

“what’s so special about this occasion?” you question, wanting real answers.

“it’s our first date.” he smirks causing your face to burn bright red.

“well i guess it is isn’t it.” you laugh.

-

once you arrive back at your apartment, you throw your purse to the side and kick off your shoes.

“what have i done? what do i do? oh fuck me, i can’t do this.” you say, that piece of your heart never healing from your past relationship. you couldn’t let go of the mistrust you felt. you never wanted to make the same mistake again, so you called dawson.

“hello?” you speak when he picks up.

“hey y/n, what’s up?”

“can you come over, i need advice.”

“yeah of course, send me your address and i’ll be there.”

“thank you so much, bye daws.” you say hanging up and sending him your address. you sat on your couch almost in a panic. you told yourself over and over to not do this again, especially this soon. a short 10 minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and you open it to see dawson standing there in his sweats.

“did i wake you from a nap?” you laugh.

“yes actually you did, but it’s okay, what’s up?” he says stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“jack is what’s up.”

“oh?” he says plopping down on my couch.

“so we went out to lunch, he called it our first date.” you say.

“okay what’s the problem with that?” he says.

“you’re not understanding, my ex and i broke up what 3 weeks ago? i can’t move on, how do i know i can trust him?”

“y/n, jacks a nice guy, i wouldn’t have introduced you two if i thought otherwise.”

“i just think it’s too soon dawson.”

“relax, calm down, chill out.” he says standing up and placing his hands on your biceps.

“how am i supposed to be calm?”

“y/n, no one is rushing you into a relationship. you are not committed to the guy, you went on ONE date. you aren’t married to him, just relax. i know it’s hard, i don’t know all the details of your break up but obviously you let your mistrust cloud your vision of good people. i wouldn’t let you go down a dark rabbit hole, and you know that.” he says calming your nerves. dawson always had a way of getting to you and calming you down when necessary, even though it had been years since you last saw the boy.

“okay you’re right.” you say sighing.

“and you don’t have to worry, he’s leaving to go to michigan for a couple days tomorrow, so you can spend time away from him and just texting, so you can get to know him better without it being to serious for you.” he adds.

“perfect.” you laugh.

“now why don’t we chill out and watch a movie, you’re clearly stressed and i want you to clear your mind.” he states, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. after a couple hours, dawson heads home, leaving you alone with nothing but your phone.

jack: hey i’m headed to michigan tmrw morning, hang when im back?

y/n: yes for sure!

jack: ok awesome, see you then

y/n: *loved a message*

you sat with your thoughts. you were terrified of the possibilities with jack, you couldn’t help it. it’s like your brain had been hardwired to push him away, but you fought the urge harder than anyone could ever know.

-

it had been about two weeks and jack returned from his trip a few days ago. the two of you have been texting nonstop. you learned the silly facts about each other and his personality shined through even on text. he was beginning to give you that glimpse of hope that you thought you’d lost for good.

“i just don’t know.” you spoke to dawson through the phone.

“he’s never texted a girl this long, he obviously likes you.”

“well you never know.”

“he has had women throw themselves at him and he’s rejected all of them. don’t you see it.”

“i do but i just don’t know if it’s the best idea.”

“y/n, just give it another go. go on another date with him. you won’t regret it, you and i both know that as much as you don’t want to admit that your crush is more than just a silly little crush.”

“god, daws you always know how to pick my brain what is wrong with you?” you laugh.

“um nothing, im just correct.” he scoffs.

“okay whatever, ill call him tonight okay?” you reply hoping it’ll shut him up.

“i’m holding you to it, so you better.”

“whatever mercer.”

-

“hello?” you hear a muffled jack on the other end of the line.

“hey jack, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go out again some time? i had a great time with you.”

“yeah absolutely!”

“does tomorrow work?” you ask, holding your breath.

“yeah i don’t have any plans. ill come pick you up at 1?”

“perfect.” you smile to yourself.

“i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“bye jack.” you say hanging up the phone, wanting to scream with excitement. you had no clue how this could feel the way it does so soon after your breakup.

-

2 months later

“hey,” jack says shaking you awake.

“huh.” you groan opening your eyes.

“i have a skate to go to, ill be back okay?” he says, you fully processing your surroundings.

“oh, yeah okay. have fun.” you smile as he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. you’d stayed the night at his house just like you have for a few nights every week since your second date though you never established a label for your relationship, just placing the boyfriend name tag on him when you’re out by yourself, too afraid to use it around him. the idea of him leaving you to skate sucked, and you shoved down these feelings so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything. you never wanted him to leave your sight. you hated that you’d grown so attached. you pulled out your phone to call dawson, always filling him in with updates.

“hey miss hughes, what you up to?” he asks picking up.

“dawson stop,” you laugh, “i just woke up, jack just left for optional skate.”

“oh that’s funny i’m on my way there now.”

“i’m sure he’ll ive you all the details.”

“yeah he always does but you’re gonna tell me what’s going on in that little brain of yours first.”

“i hate when he leaves dude. i hate it. i feel like i have no right to be this attached. being around him makes me so fucking happy, it’s like all my problems disappear when he’s around. but i need to face it, he probably doesn’t even want me.”

“you’re lying but go on.”

“lying about what?”

“you really think he ever keeps girls around this long if he doesn’t wanna be with them? be for real with yourself y/n.” he says plainly.

“okay well, point is, i’ve grown attached and i don’t understand my feelings daws.”

“i think you love him.” he laughs.

“you’re crazy.” you scoff.

“did you listen to anything you just said?”

“what part?”

“god damnit, think before you speak y/n. the way you feel when you’re around him is love. practically in its exact definition.”

“it’s only been 3 months that i’ve known the guy.”

“bitch do you really think love has a timeline?”

“well n-“

“THEN GO GET HIM.”

“i’m not gonna go, he’s skating.”

“i meant it figuratively, just wait for him to come back and see how different you feel compared to talking to me on the phone. don’t leave. don’t panic and push him away y/n. give him a shot.”

“okay okay, ill talk to you later dawson.”

“alright, bye y/n.” he says hanging up abruptly. you knew deep down that he was probably right and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. you sat on his couch for a few hours, waiting to hear the lock turn again, when suddenly it did.

“oh hey, you’re still here? i thought you’d be gone by now.” he laughs, hanging his keys on the hook.

“no i wanted to stay, your couch is cozy.”

“well i’m glad you’re still here.” he says, kissing you on top of the head as he passed behind the couch. dawson was right, you felt giddy when jack entered the room, and the feeling didn’t settle. he returns back to the living room.

“you look like you’re thinking.” he says sitting down next to you. you sit up and turn to him.

“i am thinking.” you say, anxiety running through your body at full speed, knee bouncing.

“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” he giggles placing a hand on your leg gently.

“i think i love you.” you say quietly, the words slipping off your tongue with struggle. you finally let yourself trip and fall. it felt almost freeing. his demeanor shifts as a smile grows on his face. he sits up to get closer to you.

“what was that?” he asks, smile growing wider.

“i think i love you. no no, i do. i do love you. i love you jack. i know we never attached a label to whatever we are but i can’t keep pushing my feelings away anymore. i just love you.” you say finally being able to lock eyes with him. he connects your lips in response, framing your cheek with his callused hand. when you pull away his gorgeous smile returns.

“fuck, i love you too y/n.” he laughs, a wave of relief washing over you. you couldn’t believe how jack changed your perspective on love and men so quickly but it never felt more true to you. you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore no matter how hard you tried. you finally let yourself fall, and thank god it was into the right hands this time.

-

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

[ihni]

In a world where Neil Hargrove does not exist or is out of their lives or is a better man, Billy and Max has a better relationship, like real siblings.

Which means that the first time she has her new friends over at her house, Billy crashes their little party in the most obnoxious way. Maybe they're hanging out in the living room and playing a game or something, and Billy (dressed in workout shorts and socks only, no shirt, and sweaty and gross from yardwork or basketball or lifting weights) barges in like they're not even there, spreading out on the couch and turning the TV on, volume loud.

"What the fuck Billy?!" Max says, angrily, and tries to pull him up.

But of course he won't budge. "What?"

"Get out!"

"Nah. My show's on."

"I have FRIENDS over!"

He watches them with an unimpressed look. "And I see you've somehow managed to find people even more nerdy than you, Maxi-pad. Well done."

She yells in frustration, trying again to pull him off the couch, but she can barely move him. He sticks his socked foot in her face and laughs when she screams in disgust.

"Billy!! You're such an asshole!"

"And you're a shitbird. Ow!" She claws at him but he just laughs even as he tries to swat her away. "Oooh, is little Maxine trying to show off in front of her new friends?"

Snarling, Max grabs a pillow and tries to choke him with it, but he easily pushes her off so she ends up on the floor, red-faced with anger and glaring daggers. Billy grins at her all teeth, and makes a show out of stretching out in the couch in all his barely-clothed glory.

Max turns to the Party, who has been watching with wide eyes, and huffs "Let's go to my room" before stomping off.

Billy smirks at them as the boys give him a wide berth on their way out, and when the door to Max's room slams shut he yells "Keep the door open, Maxine."

"FUCK YOU BILLY!" is the answer.

"Think of JESUS!"

"GO TO HELL!"

He sinks back into the couch and turns his attention to the TV, but only for a minute or so. Then he gets up and goes to take a shower. He only went in there to mess with her, anyway.

(She gets her revenge when he has a boy over, later. And whenever Billy has his boyfriend in the car when she's there. And whenever she runs into any of Billy's friends. She has many embarrassing stories about Billy, after all. No one knows better than her how lame he can be.)

(Or, just, Billy and Max being annoying siblings, without the hate and fear and resentment. I want that for them. Annoying obnoxious needling gross older brother Billy and seething frustrated loud conniving little sister Max)

[glossamerfaerie]

One aspect of Gwynriel that really excites me is religion. The other protagonists don’t seem to take religion or rituals very seriously? Everyone respects the Mother and acknowledges her power (and the Cauldron), but we haven’t explored faith among the fae. Feyre has a terrible experience with Ianthe (a sadly accurate depiction of corruption within organized religion). But we know that not all priestesses are like power-hungry Ianthe. Nesta is understandably indifferent even though she later has an experience with the Mother during Nyx’s birth. Rhys and Cassian seem respectful but we’ve never seen them pray or attend services. It’s giving “only attending church during Christmas” level of religious commitment.

Azriel, on the other hand… we haven’t had much canon insight in his head, but I firmly believe that Azriel is more religious than his brothers. Like he’s not the type to attend temple services, but he probably thinks about faith and the Mother regularly. Clearly he has contemplated mating bonds and who creates them — maybe he’s prayed for a mating bond? Maybe his mother raised him to be more religious. In HOFAS, after Nesta takes the mask off in a close call, Az’s very first instinct is to thank the Mother. Possibly that is meaningless (like how an atheist can say “thank god”) but idk. Az seems to have more faith than his brothers.

“The Mask fell from Nesta’s face, clattering on the stone.

Nesta swayed, but Azriel was there, catching her, bringing her to his chest, scarred hands stroking her hair. “Thank the Mother,” he breathed. “Thank the Mother.”

A few chapters later, Az describes the Cauldron and what happens after death.

“Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?”

“The Cauldron,” Azriel amended. Bryce shook her head, not understanding. “You don’t have stories of it in your world? The Fae didn’t bring that tradition with them?”

Bryce surveyed the giant cauldron. “No. We have five gods, but no cauldron. What does it do?”

“All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.”

Later in the conversation, Az explains what happens to souls after death.

“When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that.

But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.”

The way Az talks about the Mother, with reverence and confidence, makes me certain that he’s more religious than his brothers.

Then, of course, we have Gwyn — a literal priestess who was raised in a temple. She still attends daily services and sings for the choir. I’ve wondered if what happened in Sangravah shook Gwyn’s faith. Maybe she thinks the Mother exists but isn’t a benevolent deity. Maybe she’s bitter that the Mother didn’t save her servants from Hybern attacks. She definitely feels shame and unworthiness — Gwyn no longer feels like she has a right to wear the Invoking Stone. Working through those feelings will be a major aspect of Gwyn’s arc.

“You asked me once why I don’t wear the hood or the Invoking Stone. That stone is a sign of holiness. How can someone like me wear it?”

Within the temple, Gwyn also faces prejudice and discrimination from her fellow sisters. Ianthe isn’t the only asshole within the organization (cough Merrill cough). I’m sure that some people in Sangravah were cruel to Gwyn’s family because of their nymph heritage. I don’t know what SJM has planned, but I feel that religion will play a major role in the Gwynriel book. I wouldn’t be surprised that, like Nesta, Gwyn has a firsthand experience with the Mother. She will definitely use the blue invoking stone for healing (a nice parallel to Az’s blue siphons).

“It’s an Invoking Stone.” Gwyn unfurled her fingers, revealing the gem within her hand. “Similar to the Siphons of the Illyrians, except that the power of the Mother flows through it. We cannot use it for harm, only healing and protection. It was shielding us.”

I’m also curious to see Gwyn and Az discuss their religious beliefs together. Maybe Az gets permission to join the dawn and dusk services. The man barely sleeps, he might as well watch Gwyn during her religious commitments. The shadows are NOT going to pass a chance to hear their girl sing (or watch her glow). Maybe Nesta can talk Az into singing with the choir. 🥹

Nesta could only gape at the lovely melody, the voices from the front of the cavern leading it, lifting higher than the others. Gwyn sang, chin high, a faint glow seeming to radiate from her. The music was pure, ancient, by turns whispering and bold, one moment like a tendril of mist, the next like a gilded ray of light. It finished, and Merrill spoke about the Mother and the Cauldron and the land and sun and water. She spoke of blessings and dreams and hope. Of mercy and love and growth.

Idk, maybe I’m wrong about Az being religious. But it feels like such a wasted opportunity if we don’t learn more about the Mother! At the very least, I do see Az attending the dawn and dusk services if he’s not on a mission. 🎼🩵🎶

[burningcheese-merchant]

Wake up, BurningCheese/GoldenSpice babes, new poorly drawn blorbos just dropped

They look cooler in my head, I swear.

the images didn't show up the first time wtf lol

The kids are finally here, yay. I promised I'd show you them, and I finally stopped being an asshole and followed through. Almost got 200 followers and I'm very grateful for it - really, I'm nobody. I'm just some clown who says dumb stuff and makes dumb memes and writes cringey stories, and yet I convinced almost 200 people to tune in. Thank you all so much, users on here and anons in my inbox alike. As a token of appreciation, you can all endure my rambling about my OCs and witness a person in their early 20s draw like a 12 year old.

The boy is Pepper Jack (or Pepper Jack Cookie). He's the firstborn and older than his sister by a few years. He takes after his mother in a lot of ways, primarily in her appearance (save for nabbing his father's red eyes). He's incredibly bright (and a smartass lol), preferring to think his way out of conflict rather than fight his way out... not that he's above violence at all, if that glaive doesn't give it away lol. He harbors a deep sense of love and loyalty towards his family and his peoples, and carries the weight of his responsibilities and heritage with as much confidence and poise as he can muster. (There are/will be times where he stumbles, of course. He's not perfect. He struggles a lot more than he lets on, really. But he tries his best, for everyone's sake.)

The girl is Matar Paneer (or Matar Paneer Cookie). Again, she's the younger one by a few years. She was all but made in her father's image, save for inheriting her mother's eyes. She's a little firecracker: lively and fun-loving and stubborn as a mule. She doesn't ask "can I have/do this thing", she tells you "I'm going to have/do this thing". Golden is proud as anything to see her daughter be so greedy... until that greed comes into conflict with her and Spice's authority lol. But she's a good kid, despite being such a handful. She has an enormous heart and is not afraid to stand up for others/what's right, and she loves her parents and brother more than anything in the world. She might doubt her own capabilities, she might secretly fear that she's not strong enough to do what she needs to... but she keeps pushing anyway, because she'd honestly choose death over quitting.

Your eyes are not deceiving you, Pepper Jack's wings are blue lol. There's an actual reason for that. And that USO (Unidentified Sitting Object) in Matar Paneer's hair is a lotus (the cheese one in the GCK decor set lol). There's a reason for that, too. I thought it would be cool to give Jack a glaive and swap out the normal blade for that of a khopesh sword (glaives are not Egyptian, they only saw use in Asia and Europe, but I just HAD to give him a glaive), to add that Egyptian touch. Paneer's supposed to be wearing a pattu pavadai, it's a traditional Indian dress for young girls. It's a blouse plus a skirt. She's holding katar, Indian knives (Cilantro Cobra has them, too). And her hair's supposed to be in a low ponytail.

Merchant thinks that if they explain what their terrible drawings are supposed to convey, people will understand their intended vision and the pain will stop

I sat down and did research into both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for the sake of drawing inspiration for them both. I'll explain in detail in another post, but basically: both of them take after one Egyptian god and one Hindu god each. Golden takes after Ra and Spice takes after Shiva, so I figured I'd follow along that line.

Please flood my inbox with questions about them now. I've really been dying to talk about them for ages now. I've drafted extensive character sheets for them both, I even made up in-game descriptions for them lol. They're my little fankid blorbos and I love them :') I hope you all come to love them, too

(Also, I'm sorry they're on lined paper. I'm visiting family rn and that's the only paper my grandmother has in her house. I'd have to drive to a stationery to get printer paper and I'd really rather not drive in this particular country lol (shit roads, even shittier drivers). I'll doodle them on printer paper whenever somebody remembers to bring me some)

[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor

connie falling in luv w his bsf sister ; a series? idk

enjoy! it’s been a while i’m sorry😔

“con, this is my sister— step sister, y/n.” jean introduced you to the shorter dude with his buzzcut dyed lime green. “y/n, this is my friend, constance.” jean smiled because he knew he was about to piss connie off.

“nice to meet you, constance—“

“don’t call me that.” he glared at you whilst he spoke in a cold tone. jean snickered as your friendly smile dropped.

“is that not your name?”

“it is but you can call me connie. don’t let your brother get you fucked up.” for it to be the first time meeting him, he was kinda mean. but you guessed you had to respect his boundaries if you two were gonna get along, even if he was rude in establishing them.

jean shoved connie to the side. “don’t talk to her like that. keep on, i’ll kick the shit outta your lil ass.” but all he did was shrug and walk away.

“sure.” jean turned to you with a sympathetic look on his face.

“sorry bout him. he’s an asshole.” you glared your brother down.

“figures.”

jean obviously wasn’t your blood brother but he was your older brother through marriage. his dad married your mom a few years ago but you two had been around each other for longer than that so the marriage brought you closer over time. jean had moved out when he finished college and invited you to move in with him so you did. he was the only man in the world you trusted enough to live with. connie was younger than jean but a little older than you so he was friends with jean for a while. you just never bothered to meet him when he came over and stayed in your room instead. but it was different this time because jean actually asked you to meet his friend this time so you didn’t see a problem with it.

“your sister’s cute.” connie took a hit of the blunt he had in his hand. jean kicked him in the leg.

“you know how i feel about that.”

“what?” he looked clueless but he knew what jean referred to.

“you hittin on my sister and you don’t even do relationships—“

“whoa.. i didn’t say anything about relationships. literally just said she was cute, calm down.”

“i don’t even want you thinking she’s cute. think she’s ugly or something.”

“but she’s not though.”

“oh really? i—“ jean was about to pull out his phone and show the most embarrassing pictures he had of you, but luckily you had walked into the room before he could.

“jean, can i borrow your car?” jean looked at you like you were crazy. the only reason you were asking was because your car was in the shop so you had no choice but to utilize the brother you had. you just hated asking or relying on people for things.

“uh no. take the bus.” connie let out a snicker before your eyes darted to his reaction. all you did was roll your eyes and continued the conversation with jean.

“i haven’t rode public transportation since high school. you know i’m only asking because lola in the shop right now…”

“…lola? you named your car?” connie felt the need to comment for whatever reason.

“shut up. yes, i did. you got a problem, baldy?” connie didn’t respond with anything else. “yeah. anyways, jean?” jean smacked his teeth before allowing you to get his keys.

“thank you, thank you!” you pulled your brother in for a hug. “love you, i’ll be back!”

“you better..” he mumbled.

“it’s the way you actually let her use your car. your dumbass didn’t even ask where she was going.” jean paused because he realized how right connie was. he was going to regret it but felt no need because the deed had been done and he’d deal with it whenever you came back.

“shut up. it’s the way you actually don’t know how to mind your fucking business.”

[elswing]

i hate posting discourse it's pointless and doesn't do anything for me except prolong my annoyance but i'm Tired™ and feel like shouting into the void. apologies to my beautiful feanorian mutuals please look away i love u

i neeeeeeed everyone to stop claiming they like elwing if their characterisation of her is completely made-up biased bullshit that paints her as an immature and disdained ruler (?????) who couldn't balance her responsibilities with the husband she married too young (at 22. practically a child bride honestly) and the children she never wanted (where. where does it say this). she's clearly such a bad mother that she abandoned them at first opportunity (she knew the feanorians were more than capable of killing a pair of twin boys because they literally already did that. that's very much a thing that already happened. to her brothers) and it was her selfish nature that made her soooo eager to flee (she had no reason to think ulmo would save her it was literally a suicide attempt. she wanted to make sure the deaths of her people and presumed deaths of her sons weren't in vain by ensuring they never obtained the silmaril)

like i'm gonna touch your hand as i say this. it's okay if you hate her! just don't pretend that you weren't thriving in the 2016 era of silm fandom where everyone pushed all their male fave's negative traits onto any other woman in a 5 mile radius to grab Poor Little Meow Meow status for war criminal #1 #2 and #3 to then turn around and spout the exact same (factually untrue) sexist rhetoric concealed under seven layers of buzzwords just because it's the year of "unlikable and complicated female characters" like buddy who are we talking about here. have you perhaps considered making an oc?

and i'm NOT saying i want the whole fandom to mimic my exact opinions and thoughts about elwing i realise that one of the best parts of the silm is how divisive it is and how you have so much wiggle room to come to your own interpretations because of how VAGUE the source material is but i'm genuinely convinced everyone's just parroting shit they saw in ao3 fanfics where maglor is secretly lindir and the premise is elrond sneaking him into valinor and elwing yells at him for slaughtering her people. TWICE. and this is framed as a category 5 Woman Moment so elrond disowns her and calls maglor his real dad

(eärendil misses this entire ordeal because he went on a voyage to save the world that one time and no one's let him live it down since because the whole fandom as a collective decided he did this because he's a terrible dad and not because the whole continent was at war and about to be wiped out and maybe he came to the unfortunate but reasonable conclusion that leaving is the best thing he could do for his family if it meant there was a chance his sons could grow up safe in a world that wasn't ruled by Fucking Satan so now his whole Beloved Sacrificial Lion: The Thin Line Between Doomed and Prophesized Hero™ shtick is tossed out in favour of.... *checks notes* Guy Who Forgot To Pay Child Support? oh and they're a lot louder about this because he's a man so no one can call it misogyny that's why no one ever goes the #girlflop #ILoveMyBlorbosNastyAndComplicated route with him and he gets dubbed as that one asshole who just wanted fame and glory even though that goes against the general themes for tolkien's hero characters. and tolkien loved that dude to bits that was his specialist little guy so you can't seriously tell me you think that's what he was trying to portray???????? is that seriously what you think he was trying to portray????????? babe????????????

also there's a BIG difference when it's a character that's only named in one draft and doesn't exist in the rest or gil-galad who has like three and a half possible fathers but ELWING??????? the only possible way you could be coming to these conclusions is if you read the damn book with your eyes closed. FUCK.

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

My thoughts on the lives and deaths of the House of Usher

Prospero - I almost feel sorry for Perry. His ideas weren't bad and unlike his siblings he was doing them himself. I also found it hilarious when he tried to fuck his brother wife. If nothing else that kid had confidence. Fredrick was dick to both of them anyway and she deserved to have fun. If you remove the blackmail and acid rain and that would have been one hell of a party.If Perry hadn't been planning to blackmail everyone he wouldn't have deserved his death. But his death was EXQUISITE. Everything about that scene was so perfect I can't find words to describe it. Everyone involved in creating that scene deserves an award

Camille - We actually got to know very little about her. Her whole story was about finding dirty on the others and managing crisis for the family. Even her death isn't shown. I think the point was that she never got to just be. She lived and died for others but never connected with anyone.

Napoleon - Leo was to me the closest to likable of any of the siblings. He clearly loved them and that may have been the only love he way capable of. He certainly didn't love his boyfriend or anyone he had/was having sex with. He treated people like objects. His death is tricky to categorize. On one side what he did to Pluto was horrifying and anyone who treats animals that way deserves the same fate. But he never actually did any of those things. It was all hallucinations and illusions first from drugs then Verna. He was stressed and grieving and kept finding dead animals everywhere. I would be ready to smash walls in that situation too. He definitely didn't need to be a pet owner but I think his death should have been less torturous

Victorine - I wrote this one last because it was my favorite Poe story growing up and she played it beautifully. That slow steady decent into madness I should have hated this character most of all. Those poor chimps and who knows what other innocent creatures she killed with experiments she knew wouldn't work. Even with her father constantly pushing for progress she should have stopped. Verna gave her so many chances, she wasn't even there when Vic killed her girlfriend or herself. She could have stopped at any point. Yes she still would have died but it could have been painless and less tragic. T'Nia Miller's performance was so good that I actually felt sad for her in that final scene. At least until I thought of the chimps again.

Tamerlane - Knock off Madeleine. Where her sisters hid and guarded their personalities she never had one. Her entire existence was for appearances (hence the ridiculous amount of mirrors). Even when she tries to show emotion she couldn't look at the person she was talking to. Her death might have seemed the most passive but it was shoot beautifully. It was also the only thing she actively accomplished on her own.

Fredrick - Fuck you Frodrick. When his siblings said he was just like their father they didn't even realize how right they were. He might have been worse. His poor wife deserved so much better. I genuinely enjoyed watching the pendulum swinging towards him as he was paralyzed beneath it. I only wish there was more than one so he could feel more pain. He was so much a piece of shit Verna enjoyed killing him. Everyone else got warnings, chances to walk away and have peaceful deaths But this asshole, she knew he didn't deserve one. He got exactly what he deserved. Lying in a puddle of his own piss waiting to die. Seriously fuck that guy

Lenore - This sweet brave girl was the only good the Ushers ever brought into the world. So pure and good even Verna mourned having to take her. I loved that she got to know how much good she put into the world and how many lives she saved. Even knowing from the beginning she would die, it was still heartbreaking to see. At least it was painless and instant

Madeleine - She was cold and selfish but she was also usually right. I respect that even when making a deal with the devil she still had standards. She at least made sure not to have children incase. There is a bit of irony in the fact she didn't want to spend her life serving a man then chaining her destiny to her brother. Gave of serious twincest vibes that I am glad where not explored. Her death seemed a fair balance for her past and mirroring her mother's death brought everything full circle. She fell with the house of Usher. Also sapphire is a good color for her.

Roderick - Without doubt the worst of them all. He knowingly killed millions with his drug. He destroyed any shred of humanity in his children. Possibly worst of all, he knew the damage he was causing and who would have to pay for it but he didn't even blink. Being mentally tortured by his dead children was not enough. He deserved the worst death of all. I understand the poetry of him dying the same way his father did but I wish he suffered more.

[geeks-universe]

The Fallen pt. 5

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: smut, idk normal apocalypse type stuff

A/N: I’m not super happy with this chapter so I’m probably gonna edit it again later

Tag List: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade @tesha-i-guess @looneylooomis @pookiesnatcher @jayden-okayden @dovefeatheredraven @angelcritterz

Sometime during the night, when there were no doubts or fear, Cooper had pulled you closer into him, his chest firmly against your back, legs tangled in a mess of warmth.

Inevitably, when the memories of your long life crept in and dragged you from your peaceful slumber, you awoke to the smell of gunpowder and blood. Cooper’s arm was tight around your middle, holding you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away during the night.

You allowed yourself a brief moment, made longer by your own indulgence, where you let yourself feel.

Long gone were your doe eyes and breathless smiles. The world you inhabited required a steel stomach and an unbendable spine. For the past two centuries you’d denied yourself that spark, the bit of yourself that always felt so much- too much.

Your heart was a traitorous thing, had always been far too bright. Once, you’d prided yourself on that, on the love for others that was just so effortless.

You doubted yourself now, thought that maybe you didn’t even know what love was. Maybe you were just a sanctimonious asshole who didn’t care about others, just wanted to ride the high of moral superiority.

It was hard to think that, to view yourself as incapable of love, when the warm, even breaths of Cooper Howard on the back of your neck pumped fire through your veins.

Could it be possible, for you to feel affection- love- for him?

There was some amount of fondness, to be sure- something in the way your heart fluttered, your eyes gravitated to him.

But love?

You’d never been in love. You had loved before, many people in your life, but not romantically.

Not the kind that would put you on your knees.

“You look lost, sister.”

Amenadiel’s voice was deep, concerned.

You heaved a sigh, rolling out of Cooper’s arms. The corners of your lips turned down at the loss of him, body protesting your isolation.

“Twice in the same year, that has to be a record.”

The amusement in your voice wasn’t matched by your brother, his dark eyes trained on the man that’d been cuddled up to you for half the night.

“You should be careful,” he cautioned you, and though he kept his stature straight, you could see the worry in the tenseness of his arms, the tightening of his jaw.

You were his baby sister. Generally angels were unconcerned with the affairs of man- more spectator than intervenor. They remained in their realm, governing over humans only after they’d lived their mortal lives.

You, Lucifer, and Amenadiel were exceptions.

Three sides of the same coin, three siblings, three realms- heaven, hell, and earth.

“Since when have you ever cared about my choices?”

It was unfair, a poisonous comment from the lips of a little girl who was still bitter about the way life turned out.

Amenadiel had visited you, more so than any sibling. Granted, you and Lucifer had been given more than just proverbial prisons. After his return to hell, some years before the world turned to shit, he had been caught in a trap once again, unable to leave the confines of hell.

And you…

Well, your wings were tattered, brutal scars to remind you of what you were, but to never let you leave.

Clipped wings for a trapped bird.

“I’ve always cared.”

There was a softness there, in the way his eyes dropped. He was an undeniably intimidating man, but he’d always brought himself to your level when he spoke to you, almost scared of you seeing him as anything other than an overbearing, yet loving, big brother.

“Why are you here?”

The question wasn’t as venomous as the last, genuine curiosity momentarily winning out over an never ending feud.

“What happened to you?”

His question was so sudden, like he’d been holding onto it for a lifetime, waiting for the right time to get his answer.

“You were God’s Golden Warrior, his most fierce and compassionate child.”

An angry humor burned its way up your throat, culminating in something halfway between a laugh and a growl. Amenadiel, as patient as ever, let the rage light up your features.

“What happened?” You stood then, your full height not even nearing your brother’s, but there was no denying the spark of intimidation in your stance.

You’d been God’s Golden Warrior first, then Hell’s Champion.

Titles given not by privilege, but by prowess.

There were few who were capable of moving with such speed and precision as you. Your body and mind were weapons, capable of a destruction you never sought out.

Instead, you chose to be a healer, to let the divinity that flooded your veins be used for good.

You couldn’t heal now, not since the day the bombs fell- since you fell- and that bit of knowledge hurt worse than the disappointment on Amenadiel’s face, but just barely.

“Look at this place,” your voice rose with your anger, a sneer on your lips. “At them.”

Your brother did.

Guilt flashed in his eyes, followed by quiet acceptance.

“I watched this happen. We all watched this happen.”

It was so fucking hard to get Amenadiel to understand the thoughts that plagued your every move. Anger was easy, it shadowed the guilt and overwhelming sadness, like a rabid animal protecting its den.

Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t any of them see it?

“We do not dictate their lives,” he reminded you sternly, his arms crossing over his chest.

Your heart squeezed at the image of him, at the same expression he’d given to you so many times in your youth, bewildered with your silly antics.

“No, we just let billions of people suffer for the mistakes of a few,” you muttered bitterly.

The air, nearly frozen in time with the power of Amenadiel, grew thick with an exhausted argument. For millennia it’d been like this, each visit ending in similar disappointment. Maybe the damage was irreparable, maybe you would never reconnect with him the way you once did.

“Don’t forget who you are.”

And with that, he was gone.

You were left to your own musings once more, time ticking by like normal once again.

His words shouldn’t have bothered you, shouldn’t have crawled deep into your skin and taken root in your chest, but they did.

Don’t forget who you are.

Your legs twitched, a reminder of the position you’d been in less than a day ago.

Cooper had dropped you to your knees and you’d just let him.

You’d let him take whatever pleasure he wanted from you, had let him pump his anger into you until he’d thrown his head back with his release.

Your thoughts simmered, then blistered, dissatisfaction rearing its head.

You were not his toy, his little plaything to use as he pleased.

That little display had been for his benefit, but it wasn’t who you were. If he wanted you, he’d have to earn you.

You were gone before either of your companions awoke, Maze following closely behind as you prepared some rations for Lucy and Cooper.

Food wasn’t something you’d had in a long time.

Truthfully, you didn’t need it. Without eating, you’d survive, just as unchanged as the past several thousand years- water too. However, it hurt.

You still felt hunger, thirst, just as a human did. It didn’t debilitate you, or even make you unwell, you just felt a constant pain, an ache you couldn’t consciously fill. Humans needed food and water to survive, to even stand a fighting chance.

So, you lived in that pain.

You sighed, holding out your palm with a little bit of spare canned meat for Maze. The dog took it graciously, scarfing down the humble portion.

Lucy and Maze were easier to understand and interact with. Honestly, they were a bit refreshing. Well, Lucy was, Maze was very much a good dog, but that was usually the case.

Good humans?

Well, those were in pretty short supply these days.

It was easy to understand though, and you gave humans a lot of grace. After all, this world was a hard place that took and took, relentless in its efforts to either strike you down or make you another monster in the cog of the apocalypse.

“That smells better than I thought anything on the surface could,” Lucy mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She sat up slowly, bringing her knees to her chest as you passed her the sad excuse for a meal.

“Eat up, it’ll be a long day,” you told her, scratching Maze’s chin as you lounged a little more comfortably.

The instinct to spread your wings stretched at your spine, tamped down only by the presence of your new friend.

She hummed contentedly, taking a few bites slowly, like she was both savoring the flavor and debating on asking a question.

It seemed her curiosity won out as she swallowed another bite.

“Where will you go after I find my dad?”

You let the inquiry hang in the air as you thought on it, idly tapping your fingers on the top of your knee. You hadn’t given it a lot of thought, too focused on trying to give someone a happiness you could never have.

Maybe it’d heal a piece of yourself in the process.

“I don’t really know,” you admitted slowly, cautiously.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Cooper stir. He was awake, even if he pretended not to be.

You wouldn’t call him out though. If he wanted to listen in, so be it.

“You could-“ she paused, shaking off a bit of dust before she continued. “If you wanted to, you could come with me to my vault.”

The control Cooper always had a desperate hold on reared out of his hands, his body shooting up as if he’d woken up in a startle. You didn’t answer Lucy, didn’t bother to tell her if only because you knew it’d drive Cooper mad.

And he looked particularly put out as he grabbed his own portion of the food.

Where Lucy was well mannered and talkative, Coop took exactly what he needed and didn’t bother with conversation.

You sighed, getting to your feet and slinging your pack back on.

“Now that everybody’s had their breakfast, let’s get moving.”

Lucy was quick to join you, worry and fear chewing at her with each day that passed by. There wasn’t much left to the journey, about a day and a half if you had to guess, but there was a fairly important stop you wanted to make first.

“We’re going to make a stop tonight,” you commented, not bothering to check if Coop was following as you started making your way away from your temporary camp.

“And then we’ll be there tomorrow?” Lucy confirmed.

Your nod was enough of a confirmation for her, and instead of leaving her to her own devices, to stew in the depths of her concern, you engaged in conversation with her.

It was unimportant, for the most part, just questions about her family and her interests.

She’d told you about her brother, Norm, who she clearly had a deep affection for. Then she talked about her dad, and how close they’d been.

It was so… normal. Mundane. Domestic.

Before the war, you weren’t as involved with humans. You’d always kept them at a bit of a distance, scared to engage.

(And considering the first time you’d really tangled yourself in human affairs they claimed you to be the daughter of Zeus, married you to a Spartan, then started an entire pointless war over the male ego- you weren’t quick to re-enter society.)

But, eventually, with the help of Lucifer, you’d made friends. Integrated yourself, if you will.

Life had been a dream then, loneliness chased away by your friends and family. Lucifer had Chloe and Rory, Amenadiel had Linda and Charlie. Maze tormented you daily with very painful sparring sessions. (With the utmost love in her heart, mind you.)

Then Lucifer had been forced to return to hell, chained to his responsibility in the afterlife. Not long after, the world went to shit and the friends you’d had were all whisked away in some form or fashion, to hell or to heaven, depending on if they were Team Lucifer or Amenadiel.

You’d recognized the faraway look in Cooper’s expression too, like her explanation of her life was forcing him to face his own past.

Briefly, you wondered what that looked like.

He hadn’t really told you anything about his family. Hell, before the past couple of weeks you hadn’t told him anything about yours either.

Then, before Lucy could ask too many questions about the state of your own family, you inquired about Maximus.

There was a sadness when she spoke of him, like the uncertainty of the situation was a death sentence.

And maybe it was.

The Wasteland had a habit of making people disappear. It was so easy to just drift away, become little more than a distant memory and an occasional anecdote while the world moved on.

The conversation was enough to keep you occupied, to distract you from the impending walk down nostalgia lane.

For the most part, it was just you and Lucy talking, Cooper still deep in thought over the events of the past day. It was better that way, though, easier to focus on meaningless conversation than the streets around you.

The closer you got, the more you recognized.

The streets were so different now, not teeming with life as they’d once been.

Lux.

Los Angeles had become little more than a husk of itself, shells of buildings littering the streets, the desert sweeping in from all sides. Many factions had laid claim to the ruins, had rebuilt the city with scraps.

Through it all though, Lux had stood.

It wasn’t in perfect condition, but it did maintain itself far better than nearly every other building.

Not that it was particularly surprising, there were many, many divine artifacts locked away, for the protection of others.

“What is this place?” Lucy broke the silence, a hand blocking out the harsh sun as she followed the building to the top.

“It used to be a nightclub,” you shrugged, your boots crunching on glass shards.

Most of the windows had been smashed out, and when you entered the front, you were unsurprised to find that it’d been trashed, then picked clean. Beyond the general structure of the bottom floor, there was little recognizable content left. Even the poles had been taken down, lost to some raid or another.

You could almost picture it, your mind tugging you back to a time you’d walked through the throngs of people, pressing your way to the elevator to meet your brother.

This time, there wasn’t a crowd, just your two companions following in a hushed silence.

“It works?” Lucy gestured to the open doors of the elevator that you’d stepped into, your hand tracing the buttons reverently.

“Yeah, it’ll work,” you promised, a thousand little moments echoing in the press of a button.

You typed in the code, the one Lucifer had used to protect his property prior to leaving, and the elevator whirred back at you.

If you wanted to get technical, it had been Chloe’s idea. She wasn’t interested in coming back to Lux after Lucy left, haunted by the memories. She knew she’d meet him again, one day- but until then, she tried to maintain some semblance of normal while honoring Lucifer.

Thus, you’d all decided that you’d take Lux, and in doing so, you could maintain the artifacts that your brother had collected. You’d agreed only after drowning every surface in bleach.

He might’ve settled down with Chloe eventually, but he’d more than likely defiled every inch of the penthouse before that.

The doors moved with a groan, shutting you and your small party in as it ascended to the place you’d once considered home. Your heart twinged, each whine of the machinery bringing you closer to familiarity.

“How’d you know all this, sweetheart?”

Cooper finally broke his silence, the same one he’d had for the majority of the day, to ask. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for it or not, comforted by his voice but also frustrated with his actions.

“This,” you tapped impatiently against the rusting bar, nodding your head as the elevator screeched to a halt, doors springing open slowly. “Was my brother’s place.”

The look Cooper gave you could best be described as suspicious. You looked like you were in your mid-twenties, and this club was very obviously from before the war over 200 years ago.

You ignored it, however, instead calming the pounding of your heart as you stepped into the penthouse your brother had made his home for many years.

The lights above clicked on, a generator long dormant still capable of producing electricity. You weren’t surprised, Lucifer had really spared no expense on this place, because he hated inconvenience.

It was largely untouched, a few smashed windows and a heavy layer of dust the only real mark of the passage of time. It was still, quiet, lifeless. Your fingers idly tapped on the keys of the piano, untuned notes reverberating in the space around you as a brief flicker of life passed through the space.

You’d loved here, had once reunited with your family and friends, had held them all close as the weight of years and years in isolation forced you to your knees. The note died, the memory too, and you stepped away, towards the well stocked bar that was mostly intact.

“Now that’s a bar,” Coop whistled lowly, picking up the nearest bottle and investigating.

“We can stay here for the night,” you told them, dropping your pack on the couch, dust swirling at the upheaval. “There’s only two rooms, but the couch is comfy.”

Lucy was walking the perimeter with curiosity, hands tracing over the luxurious items with interest. She’d never seen objects like this, surrounded by metal and conformity. Everything in the penthouse was unique and expensive, millennia of history blended into fashionable decor.

Maze followed suit, sniffing and investigating every corner and crevice of the abandoned penthouse.

The distinct sound of a fridge opening made you turn towards the bar and cringe.

“I’d just leave that closed,” you commented, a shiver of disgust involuntarily crawling down your spine.

“What in the hell is this?” Coop pulled out a very brightly colored goop, one that you’d been too horrified to even touch after Lucifer had left, and then the world had ended.

“It’s uh,” you cleared your throat. “Lube.”

Amusement twitched on the ghoul’s features as he cracked the old jar open.

“Please don’t,” you muttered, not bothering to watch the scene unfold.

He’d specially ordered it from some Korean sex store, claiming that it tasted like bubblegum and caused all “bits and bobs to tingle”.

You slipped back into your brother’s room, pushing aside the old painting to get into the vault. The thrum of divinity always grew in intensity near artifacts, but this specific one lit a fire in your chest.

Lucifer had felt a connection to the Blade of Death, and Amenadiel had always been affixed to the Key, but you…

You clicked the lock open- the combination was Chloe’s birthday- and reached out, power strumming in the air.

Your fingers closed around the Medallion of Life, the world righting itself a little more around you. The three divine artifacts that made up the Flaming Sword, the three children of God that made up the three realms- there was an unbreakable tether between you and the medallion, which you’d strung around your neck.

“What’s that?”

It was Lucy who asked, who had followed you into your brother's room.

“Family heirloom,” you said, tucking the medallion beneath your jumpsuit.

Her eyes slid to the bed, still perfectly made, gazing with longing. Exhaustion had hit your party hard, the long days of traveling with the lack of adequate rations and an overbearing sun had left your companions little more than a tangle of limbs at night.

“Have the bed,” you told her, turning to walk out of the room.

“Hey,” she interrupted the quiet gently, thoughtfully. “How is it possible? That your brother owned this place?”

You breathed out a sigh, pausing momentarily.

“I’m a lot older than I look.”

Cooper was still rifling around the bar when you returned, his hat perched precariously on a shelf. Maze had jumped onto the couch, satisfied with her assessment of the new space and now content to just doze off.

Your gazes met, and instead of offering him the second room- your room- you nodded your head in a gentle goodnight, and walked the familiar path to rest. Your fingertips traced the walls, nostalgia threatening to bubble up, to form tears in your eyes.

You wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t let memories drown you in sorrow.

Don’t forget who you are.

But you wanted to.

You wanted to be anything but that person, but the person who hurt when others did, who couldn’t stand to watch anyone in pain.

The door to your room creaked open, the bright colors faded to vignette, like an old film. It still looked relatively the same- closet full of color, books lining the wall, retired weapons collecting dust like trophies.

Your bed looked so warm and inviting, and as much as you wanted to fall into the sheets and sleep for a decade, you decided it was best to maintain some amount of hygiene.

You chucked your boots off, throwing them somewhere in the wide, open space. Your socks and jumpsuit were quick to follow, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

The dresser drawers groaned with disuse, but opened with relative ease. You snagged an old t-shirt you’d stolen from some one night stand you didn’t bother remembering- the name of some old band plastered on the front in an eerie font- and a new pair of panties. Considering it’d been 200 years, you were surprised that they were in such good condition.

They smelled a little dusty and stale, but honestly, that was better than anything the Wasteland produced.

Just as you’d been about to slither into bed and sleep like the dead, the jingle of spurs sounded down the hallway, headed straight for you. Coop was slow, controlled, like he was having a conversation with himself on the walk over.

You listened intently, sitting on the edge of your bed as he decided whether he wanted to speak to you or not.

Slowly, with more caution than you’d ever seen from him, your door opened. The expression he wore was hesitant, and your heart squeezed at seeing some of the confidence in his swagger chipped away.

It struck you then, that you’d seen him play a similar role sometime back in his golden days. He’d been an apologetic cowboy, begging his lady love for forgiveness. She’d given it to him then, had confessed her undying love and then they’d rode off into the sunset, presumably to live happily ever after.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he saw the scene play in his head, if he remembered a time when all the bad disappeared with a shout of “cut”.

“What do you need?”

He shifted from foot to foot, an internal debate, before he took a step forward.

“The dog’s taking up the couch.”

A flimsy excuse. A real one, if it were you, but you knew he didn’t truly care about the comfort of Maze.

“And?”

You quirked a brow, not giving any grace. If he wanted something, he’d have to ask- nicely.

He sucked on his teeth, fingers running the brim of his hat.

“Really gonna make a man beg, sweetheart?“

“I usually do,” you met him with a pointed stare, leaning back on your elbows.

His gaze ran the length of your legs, drinking in the sight of your bare, smooth skin. Like a man possessed, he fell before you, dropped straight to his knees.

“I ain’t ever begged before,” he murmured, the tips of his fingers ghosting along your ankles. “Ain’t gonna start now.”

A smile tugged at your lips- slow and sweet, a woman who knew her worth.

“Not now,” you agreed with a hum, watching from beneath your lashes as he pressed the skin of your ankle to his lips, moving up a few inches before repeating the action. “But you will.”

A shiver ran the length of your spine when his touch reached the inside of your thigh, a smirk pulling on his mouth. He tugged at your underwear, sliding it down your legs at a torturous pace.

“Is that so?”

His breath was warm against your skin, the vibrations from his voice pressed against your legs. It was a sight to behold, him on his knees before you, worshipping each inch of yourself bared to him.

“Pretty as a peach,” he breathed, eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt.

You hummed teasingly, the sound turning to a breathy moan of his name as he bit the soft flesh of your thigh.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Coop,” you told him, leveling him with an even stare.

He kept eye contact as he licked a long, hard stripe up your cunt. Your breath stuttered, muscles tensing at the sensation.

“Neither am I.”

You barely had time to register the words, to understand the insulation, before he pressed his face against you, his tongue flicking desperately against your clit.

You cursed, hands knocking the hat off his head as you grabbed onto the back of his neck, holding him there. Your back arched when he sucked, his teeth just barely scraping against your sensitive nub.

He was ravenous, his tongue finding a harsh rhythm against your clit, sucking up every drop of wetness you gave him like he’d been without water for a week. The pressure in your stomach unraveled, muscles straining under the building tension.

Your body sung, pleasure climbing higher and higher.

Coop pulled away, and you nearly sobbed at the loss of his mouth, before his fingers- somehow devoid of his gloves in the chaos- were pressing into you.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” his accent was thick, honeyed.

You had maybe a second before-

A wanton moan tore itself from your parted lips, his name a prayer on your lips as his other hand held you open, his tongue relentless against your slick heat.

His finger was pumping in and out of you, quickly joined by another as he stretched you open for him.

You were saying his name over and over now, pressure building with each swipe of his tongue or curl of his finger. You were pleading with him, at the edge of it all wanting to just plunge into your pleasure.

Your legs flexed, tried to close, but Cooper held them open as your chest fluttered. Each touch was fire, so hot your body burned in an inferno of your desire.

Cooper. Cooper. Fuck.

Unintelligible words fell from your lips, growing in volume as you fell into the feel of him, pleasure bursting through your veins. You might’ve screamed his name then, might’ve drew blood with your fingernails as he tongue fucked you through your orgasm.

It took you a moment to catch your breath, and another to realize he was crawling up your body, pride plastered in the smirk he wore.

You’d give it to him, that was one hell of an orgasm.

But, you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction. Not yet.

“Coop,” you warned, holding your hand against his chest.

The heart that beat beneath your palm was pounding with excitement.

“Darlin’,” he cooed the syllables, sweet as sugar.

If you were made of lesser stuff, you might’ve leaned into his touch, might’ve bunched his shirt in your fist and pressed your lips to his- but you weren’t, and you didn’t. Instead, you met his gaze, keeping him suspended above you.

You rocked to the side then, your leg wrapped around his middle while you flipped the both of you over, pinning him beneath you. It surprised him, the strength you displayed, so unlike when he’d had you on your knees.

You didn’t have to say anything then, didn’t even have to tell him what you were thinking. He could see it, could recognize the look in your eyes, and nodded.

He laid back, observing you above him. You wished you could tell what he was thinking, what caused the furrow of his now-gone brows.

A note floated between you, more joining with a skilled precision to create a beautiful melody.

A familiar melody.

Coop was already pushing you off him, feet pounding against the ground as you struggled to throw a pair of old sweatpants on. You were tripping over yourself, all uncoordinated limbs and excitable actions and you ran out the door and into the hallway, a few feet behind Coop.

He was already slinging insults, his gun cocked with a threat by the time you rounded the corner. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, couldn’t even see the worried expression on Lucy’s brow as you stared at the piano, the very same that had laid abandoned, silent, for 200 years.

There, in the center of the room, with a wide, devilish smile and a pristine suit, fingers sprawled across the keys, sat Lucifer.

[badkitty3000]

What did you think was ooc for Five?

Great question, and I have already covered it a bit in my post here, but I could probably yammer on all day about it, so I'll add some thoughts.

Season 1 -3 Five was focused, determined, manic, arrogant, sometimes mean, violent, out-spoken, and full of love for his family above all. Yes, he insulted them and had no time or patience for their shit, but considering everything he'd been through and what he was up against, there was a reason for it. Season 4 Five? Ok, yeah, I can buy that maybe he was depressed and didn't really know what to do with himself anymore. Myself and others have certainly written him that way a few times. But, damn, he spent like all of season 3 bitching about wanting to be retired and here he could be! He could have played the stock market a few times, bought a little place somewhere, picked up a nice lady at the local Bingo hall and lived his peaceful live he deserved. Instead, he works (inexplicably) for the government and just wanders around with his sad little trenchcoat and CIA-issued pistol and flashlight, taking orders from The Man and just...existing I guess. I could see if they made it so that he joined the CIA to get inside info on Reginald and he had spent the last 6 years quietly plotting to take him down and get his revenge or set the world straight again. But no...he apparently hadn't even tried to look into anything Reggie was doing? Like he was just "*shrug*, it's probably fine".

Five loves his family above all else. We know this. If not, he wouldn't have spent decades alone fighting to get back to them and save all their stupid asses. Now, all of sudden, he just doesn't seem to care? Yes, he's present and has obviously kept in touch. He goes to the birthday party, etc. But there is zero interaction with Klaus, or his nieces, or even Viktor. When at the end, he finally gets some fight back (although for completely absurd reasons) and snaps at Luther, the whole family gasps in shock like this is some new occurence that Five would be mean to them. And he'd said much worse to them before! So, that leads me to believe he just has spent the last 6 years being a completely different person and everyone forgot he's actually an asshole?

And back to the family thing...fighting his brother over his wife? Falling in love with Lila, the same person who: conspired behind his and Diego's back in Season 2, was raised by his villainous boss, was the daughter of two innocent people he killed, tried to kill him with her fists, a frying pan, her feet, a knife, electrocution; and who he tried to kill multiple times as well. Yes, they have had time to heal some wounds and they have a shared traumatic experience with The Handler but come on...he would never! He would never be attracted to her that way. He would never betray Diego that way. And he certainly wouldn't fight him over her, not when she and Diego are married and have kids together. I don't care how many years they were together alone...just no. Best friends? Sure. Lovers? Fuck no.

Physically, where was his prowess? Five is supposed to be the all-time badass assassin, trained in martial arts and weaponry. His body is young at 19-20 years old, and at the peak of his physical fitness. Even without his powers he should be able to kick some ass, or at least try to. And then when he does have his powers, he just doesn't know how to use them correctly anymore? And again, he looks slow and weak in a fight. His solution to taking down the big Bennifer blob thing was to fire an entire clip at long range at it, and then just go "huh...weird that didn't work". Why wasn't he looking around the mall for a weapon? An axe? Something else to fight against it! That's what he does...that's his THING! We were fucking robbed of a Five-centric badass fight scene, when there were so many opportunities for one. Hell, he could have taken down a room full of Keepers with a fucking ballpoint pen while singing along to Abba's Dancing Queen! Why didn't we get that?

Meeting with Reginald. Remember in Season two when Five met with Reggie at the Tiki bar? He sat and had a drink with him, but it was still tension-filled with a lot of emotion there. Then in Season 3, when he was basically like "you're a sadistic lunatic that is going to kill all of us" and got right in his old man's face and told him he was a giant dick? This time...he's just standing around Reggie's house shooting the shit and not even acting like he's mad. That is just not the same guy. I realize this was supposed to be Viktor's fight with Reggie, but they still could have shown Five to have a little emotion there.

So, there you have it. I could probably keep going, but this is way too long as it is. It's just heartbreaking, really. This character that we have all come to love for all of his complexities and faults and heroics was just diminished to a one-dimensional, uninteresting character with no regard for his family. Basically, just undoing three season's worth of plot and character development. And it's not Aidan's fault. He did the best he could with the shit he was given, and I feel sorry for him. For as much as we love this character, Five was his. He made him come to life and there's not many other actors his age that could have pulled that off. So, I'm sad this was his end. They really did him dirty.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)

@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years)  maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?

(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)

"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."

The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.

"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.

"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist

You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.

With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.

You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.

You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.

You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."

So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)

Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.

"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.

"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"

Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."

"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."

"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.

"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"

"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."

"Fuck." you growl.

Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"

He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.

"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"

"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.

"Sorry, no." Sam adds.

"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."

They think.

They look at each other.

They nod.

"Welcome back." Dean grins.

"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."

Sam winces.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Change Of Heart ~ Heimdall x Reader

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of Kratos with a Greek Goddess who died before he left his homeland. She is laconic and intimidating without even trying, being more like her father, but she’s mostly just aloof and has no idea how to have a proper conversation, especially with the people of the North. Being a Goddess and having learnt so much as a child, before Olympus fell, Y/N found her primary priorities simple - Protecting her family. Her first meeting would however prove to be the most entertaining, but also, the most annoying thing she experienced, since she stole Hermes’s boots.

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

Ragnarok was on the verge of existentialism, and everyone was running amok with craziness - People were worrying for their lives, their homes, and not only, for the End of the Gods meant... What did it mean, actually? Nobody could know exactly - They could only make false suppositions. But that’s what people did best - Make up countless scenarios that may or may not come even close to reality.

The problem was, while mostly everyone inside the dwarves’ home was in alignment with their mind views - Atreus, the little half-Jotnar teenager, was up to... Only he knew what. Nobody, maybe not even he himself, knew what in the world he was thinking. She doesn’t remember herself being a teen rebel... Maybe it was a boy thing? Or a generational gap she will never understand? She truly had no idea.

Time and time again, especially after Faye died, Y/N tried to pacify Atreus and lead him on the good path - The one of communication, so he and his father could talk out their differences. That was their problem - They loved each other so much, but because of their different personalities and upbringings, they weren’t able to bond so evidently, like herself and Kratos did. Although, they did have a few hundreds of years alone to talk plenty, so it was an unfair comparison - Hence why, she had to try harder in reasoning with both of them.

This day, however, things were even going worse than ever. Not even Sindri could talk sense into Atreus, so the ‘bad guy’ had to go and intervene, hopefully talk sense into his boy so he won’t do anything stupid and reckless. Y/N knew better than anyone how much loss and grief Kratos has experienced in his long life - She was adamant in making sure her father never has to lose anyone dear to him again. 

Kratos entered the boy’s room where he was sitting on a barrel. Kratos was evidently ticked off and in need of proper answers. He never was one for beating around the bush or diplomacy - That was all Y/N - So when Atreus tried to evade the question, the father started raising his already harsh and raspy voice. That gruff Spartan voice that was always used to shouting, like the War General he was, did him no good in trying to appear calm and collected - Not that he was, in that exact moment. Kratos was accusing Atreus of seeing - Or at least, attempting to - See Odin. He was grasping at loose straws, but it was the only clue he had.

Atreus’s voice was defiant, and he even talked back to his father, saying that he could do whatever he wanted - Make his own choices - Because it was HIS life. Not wrong, per se, but at least give your old man some closure, he is worrying himself into an early grave.

“Why don’t you trust me?!” Atreus shouted at his father, clearly hurt. “If you want me to trust you, then tell me the truth.” Kratos’s voice was pressed and authoritarian. “The truth is you’re being a complete asshole!” for a household who tolerated foul language little, having such a direct insult, at your father, no less, was inacceptable. “ATREUS!” Y/N stepped into the room. “That is no way to speak to your family. What has gotten into you?” she scolded her younger, rebellious brother. Atreus pushed past the girl, and walked out of the room. “He doesn’t have any faith in me! All faith he ever had was put into you!” Atreus accused his family in a harsh, rageful tone. “It’s fine if HE keeps secrets! It’s fine if Y/N keeps secrets. It’s fine if mum did -”  “It is NOT fine! Her secrets haunt every step of this path.” this wasn’t a family quarrel anymore. It was complete disaster. “Oh, okay, so you don’t believe in her anymore either?” the boy went to lean on a chair at the table, still away from his father.  “This is not about your mother. What you have done is lie.”  Kratos pointed out clearly. “I wonder where I learnt that.” the boy let out a dramatic shrug of his shoulders. “What is with this attitude? You do not behave like that to your family. We just want you safe.” Y/N tried to put her hand on his shoulder, but was slapped away. “Why do you ALWAYS take his side?! Is it because you’re his favourite child?!” the accusation was hurtful, but Y/N tried to keep composed. “Our father does not have a favourite child. I told you so many times - We just had more time to understand each other and learn how to speak. You are a few hundreds of years behind in that - And it is alright. Dad is not the easiest to understand, I get that. I know I am not easy to understand either. We come from a different realm and a different time. Different speech and different customs. But we both care about you so much. Please understand that, Atreus.” the girl tried to stop his temper tantrum using her compassion, but it was for naught. “Look, fine. I was only THINKING about going to Odin - But I swear, it’s for a good reason!” the boy spoke in his defence. “There is NO good reason to go to Odin.” Freya intervened quickly.  “He’ll only cloud your mind.” Tyr, also, spoke, the porridge cauldron in his hand, as he stirred it. “But I’d be going for us! I gotta stop something bad from happening!” the boy tried to reason. “Something bad DID happen! LOOK AT ME! Look at Freya - At Tyr! Odin did this to us!” Mimir shouted at the boy, hoping to make him see the fault in his thinking. There was nothing good that could come out of dealing with the devil himself. “What’s got everyone caterwaulin’ all-a sudden?” Brok grumbled as he got in the little group of mischief. “Atreus wants to go to Asgard.” Sindri summarized it best.  “Asgard? He get kicked in the head or something?” Brok was genuinely surprised by that idea. “Great. I guess everybody’s against me now.” Atreus rolled his eyes. “We are not against YOU. We just do not want you to put yourself in danger by directly going to that power hungry mad man.” Y/N sighed, pulling the boy into a hug. “You must choose who you are going to be. Are you going to continue to lie and keep things from me? Or are you my son?” Kratos asked, getting closer as well. “Choose? I NEVER get to choose. Just leave me alone.” the boy pushed away both his family members - But Kratos grabbed his arm, telling him to listen to him. “LET GO!” the boy started squirming aggressively, trying to escape his grasp. “I said - LET GO!” the boy transformed into a bear without realising once again. He was walking towards the door, but Sindri was in his way. “Atreus! It’s Sindri. J-Just try to keep control--” the bear was about to hit Sindri with his large paw, but Y/N with her magic pushed him away, allowing safe passage out of the house, and outside, for the portal to take him to Asgard. “I will get him back.” Y/N thanked her mother mentally once again for gifting her the boots of Hermes, as she was able to run all the way to her little brother who was back in human form and struggling to get through the portal door. 

Y/N tackled him - But the two fell through the door... All the way to the Fimbulwinter inflicted Midgard. From there, they made their way to their home, then at Freya’s, where they took care of the large tortoise-tree that guarded her house. “Can you please tell me what are you fearing so much, brother?” Y/N spoke gently, sitting on the ground and watching the remorseful and worried expression on his face. “I... I saw a Jotnar shrine... And it predicted father’s death. I... I can’t let that happen. I have to do something about it.” the boy’s voice was small and afraid. “Atreus, darling... Did dad ever tell you about the Sisters of Fate? Or how he saved himself from dying, by going back in time?” the boy’s eyes bulged wide. “If you had any idea how many times dad has been fated to die, you would be in a grave with worry right now. Hundreds of years later, he is still alive and well, as you can see.” she explained. “Dad’s father... Uh... Killed him, and stole all of his God powers in a sword. Dad escaped the realm of the dead and sought out the Sisters of Fate. They are... Like the Nornir of this land, but they take an active role in the creation of Fate itself. One would create life, in the form of a thread, another would embellish it to her will, and the other would end the life by cutting the thread - Everything was controlled by them. Everything could change, based on their whims. That is what greed and power hunger does to you - You become a tyrant.” the girl continued her tale as old as time. “Dad killed all three of the Sisters and found his own thread, so he was able to turn back in time and save his past God-self from his father. As you can see, he is still the God he once was - Minus the magic. He cannot use the magic anymore. I, however, can.” Y/N winked at him playfully. “But... I don’t understand. All the Jotnar predictions come true!” Atreus was clearly conflicted, unable to corelate the two fates predicted to his beloved father. “The oracles predicted his dead. Dad died - But he also brought himself back from death countless times. It has not stopped him before and it will not now either. The only thing that can stop our dad from going forward is if something happens to either of us. ESPECIALLY you, Atreus.” the girl’s voice was stern, but also kind and warm. “You do not see it yet, my sweet brother, but our father is incredibly overprotective of you. He can be overbearing also, I do agree, but he has gone through so much grief and mourning and loss, that his heart simply cannot take any more. For him, you are still the little bundle of love that he created with Faye. He was so very afraid of even holding you in his arms, afraid of hurting you or bringing you misfortune.” Y/N smiled melancholically, remembering her father’s glossy eyes, trying so hard to look away, to not allow Faye and Y/N to see him shedding emotional tears as he was holding his son for the first time... So small, so adorable... “I... I hardly ever saw my father cry before, Atreus. But when he held you in his arms for the first time, and you extended those tiny little babe hands of yours to grab at his beard... He shed tears. Those were the first tears of pure love that I have seen him weep in my life.” the look on the boy’s face was almost comical, but his heart was in so much pain and realisation. “Your misunderstandings come from a place of deep love.” she clarified. “Y/N... Will you please help me protect our dad? I’m... I’m really... Afraid.” the boy reached forward and snuggled in her arms, hugging her. He missed his mum’s warm and loving embraces... Y/N was the only bit of maternal love and understanding he could get. “Of course, my sweet brother. I shall always be there for you, no matter what peril may come.” the girl kissed the top of his head. “Here. Put this in your breast pocket. It is a flower of healing - Mum taught me how to make it. I can feel your vitality through it and know when you are in danger. As well as that, you can heal your physical wounds, should you destroy it. Be ready for anything. Please.” the boy quickly put it safely, and smiled at her - His beautiful blue eyes were gleaming, and they remained in that embrace until something akin to a knocking was heard from the wooden window, and the boy rose to his feet. Ravens came into the room, one by one, and they flew in circles around the two children, and teleported them to Asgard.

More specifically, to a god damn lake. That was nothing but absolutely cruel. “Your Odin friend is a... Jerk, as you call it.” Y/N grumbled, pulling the boy ashore and squeezing her long hair and clothes from the water. “Wonderful start.” the boy was pissed off - But the two siblings made their way towards the large wall - On top of it was supposed to be the real Asgard... Or, whatever. On their way, they met up with a boy around Atreus’s age and height, with pretty blond hair and a pretty face, named Skjoldr, before they were to climb all the way up... Up the wall with no end. Awful.

Y/N shot the boy an exhausted and done with life look and began to climb that atrocious wall mountain - Though nothing compared to the climbing of Olympus, it was still tiresome. Actually, the circumstances were similar - At the end of the day, at the top, the Father of the Pantheon was awaiting them. The exact God which they wanted dead. Although it wasn’t an easy climb, Atreus took his mind away from his aching muscles and the fatigue by making conversation about her life as a Greek God. For some reason, in spite of always being curious, he hardly ever asked her or their father about their past lives - It made the girl happy, like they were bonding, and he was also trying to find ways to get in touch with their father.

They were so close - So, so close to reach the top of the wall - Atreus, who was up there, put his hand on the ground and tried to bring himself up, only to have his wrist held into a tight grip. He gasp, alerting his sister, who noticed the mysterious man kneeling. He had blond-grey hair  pulled into various slicked back intricate braids, and the most striking purple eyes. His skin was pale as she’s never seen anyone before and his clothing looked... Noble. With gold embroidered into his pristine white and blue tunic; If he didn’t have that incredibly fake and arrogant smile, he would have looked like the most handsome man that Y/N has ever seen since she last saw Hermes. All men in the North looked harsh, gruff and so incredibly old, they reminded her of her father. But not this stranger.

“Hello.” the man spoke. He had a velvety voice, but it made Y/N worry tenfold. He held the allure of a confident and self-assured man who masked his weaknesses very easily.

“Uh... Hi?” Atreus more asked than stated.  “So.” the stranger meant business. “What part of the enormous wall made you think - Oh! Visitors must be welcomed - ?” he was even dramatically sarcastic. If Atreus’s life wasn’t threatened, Y/N would have found him tragically entertaining. “I was sent for, actually. By Odin.” though the boy spoke the truth, this stranger behaved less than optimal and with an empty dead-pan. “The All-Father sent for you? Ha! Great.” the man took a bite of his crispy red apple. “Then why are you out there, and not in here?” good question, actually. “Trust me, I asked the same thing when we found ourselves plunging into that awfully ice-cold water.” Y/N sighed, her expression aloof and unbothered, yet still having a comedic effect in her tone. “Ah - There’s another one - I almost forgot about you. Why are you here? Same dumb reason?” the stranger asked, watching as the girl pulled herself up slightly, just to nonchalantly place her arms on the ground and lean her chin on her hands, while her feet were dangling playfully - She looked far more unphased than the boy, the stranger noticed, getting mentally alert. “Ah, no, no. Odin had asked for him, not for me. I mostly ended up here through a rather... Unfortunate series of events.” with a bored expression, the stranger let the apple fall on the ground, and it rolled over the edge, breaking the small rock on which Atreus was holding one of his hands. Now, he was merely held onto by the stranger. Y/N was focused, yet maintained her unbothered aura as she hilariously grabbed the apple and bit from it also. It was fresh and sweet, just like the stranger’s subtle facial reactions. She knew very well that, should the stranger throw her brother over just like the apple, she could easily rescue him - And now he was well aware also. “Are you finished?” the blond scoffed dramatically. “Now. What could Odin. All Father. King of the Aesir. Possibly want with the likes of you?” Y/N wanted to know the very answer just as well. “That’s between me and Odin.” Atreus spoke barely.  “You don’t even know, do you?” the man stated, letting an empty chuckle. “If you could pull me up, I--” but the boy was cut off harshly.  “No, I don’t think I will. I think maybe I’ll drop you.” the man spoke, as a matter of fact. Y/N would have actually laughed, should they not have been the subject of his mockery. Were this stranger to denigrate them with a rhyme, he would have been Hermes’s best friend. Atreus started panicking and pleading for him not to drop him off. “Yes, I’m going to drop you. Goodbye~!”  “Wait, wait!” Atreus grabbed onto the man’s arm tightly, making him look down at him, disgusted and offended. “Think how mad the All Father’s gonna be when he -- When he finds out you killed his guest - Loki of the Jotnar?” “The Jotnar?” the resentment for that race was obvious on the man’s visage. “Enemy of my people?" “I am not your enemy.” Atreus made the man with shining eyes groan in disdain and pull him up. Seeing that her brother was alive and well, the girl quickly pulled herself to safety as well with shocking ease. “I will be the judge of that.” the stranger spoke, walking ahead as Y/N helped her brother get up and patted his head.

Y/N didn’t speak for most of the walk - She did not want to give away any of her weaknesses, nor her temper or strategies. Still, she heard Atreus identify the man, thanks to the Gjallarhorn - This Aesir stranger was, in fact, Heimdall. She was amused by how done with life this man was, especially when dealing with her brother’s innocence and naivite - He would call it absolute stupidity though. He claims to be the protector of Asgard, his beloved realm; However, he easily guessed that Atreus was so overly eager to get out of someone’s shadow... The shadow of an overbearing fatherly figure, he says. How very much on point he was. Interesting. He also guessed that he was - Disrespectful. Entitled. Impulsive. On point, for the most part. 

He easily read that Atreus was here, not to save people, but out of his own accord. To lie, manipulate and do bad, all for himself - His selfish desire to prove that he can do good by himself - And save his father. Though Heimdall was taunting the boy for being so arrogant and thinking he was the center of the universe, he wasn’t exactly wrong - Just incredibly cruel with his wording.

“I see you are proficient in reading people. Although you have added your own, personal touch of cruelty to your words - They are, in fact, very correct.” Y/N nodded, seemingly impressed with his guess, indirectly mocking her clueless brother also. “Of course I am correct, silly girl. I just need one single look in your eyes and I already know everything there is to be known about you.” the man snapped at her, though the smirk on his face made it clear he liked the praise. “Is that so? Then, by all means, what is there that you can see about me?” with a small, perfectly contained and relaxed smile, the girl leaned back casually on the wooden railing of the cabin they were travelling in, and willingly averted her eyesight, straight into his own. Her gaze was aloof, yet held with a strong indifference. She was challenging him. Provoking him, Heimdall realised. But how? He could not understand. “You... Are appreciating the colour of my eyes? How mundane. What are you, some silly midgardian girl?” the man scoffed. “Hm... Am I, now?” her smile widened just a little bit - Heimdall knew it was perfectly controlled, and it only irked him more. He looked again, but he felt as if he was looking into a void. This Loki child was like an open book, so easy to read, and even easier to taunt. This one, however, was getting a rise out of him freely. She didn’t look physically strong - In fact, she looked slender and frail - But so did he, and he held the strength of a God, and the mind even better. He was having a very annoying rival, and he could not stand his place being challenged, especially if it was a means to go against Asgard. “You are not of this land.” the girl nodded, approving his statement. “You hold very strong convictions and can be very stubborn. You don’t hold anyone’s opinions in your regard. You are shallow and uncaring. You are manipulative. And...” Heimdall’s purple eyes widened slightly - Atreus could even see his very pale skin turning slightly pink.  “Heimdall - Are you, perhaps, cold?” the girl’s smirk was as cunning as a fox. Heimdall realised that she knew exactly what he was reading off her. It was her who was feeding him the information to speak out loud.  “Why would I be cold? I’m an Aesir, I was born here. This temperature is just right for me.” he snarked at the girl, who pulled off her cloak and approaching him, pulled it on his shoulders, before approaching her face to his own. “Your cheeks are pink.” she whispered into his ear, before taking a sharp turn and returning to her leisure resting place. “You did it on purpose.” he was so bratty now, she was reminded of Atreus and his temper tantrums. How cute. “Very well spotted. Your foresight is truly a force to be reckoned. I am sure Asgard will be very safe with you as its guardian.” her comment made him glare at her - Only for Y/N to demurely hide a soft giggle with her hand. He couldn’t understand this type of behaviour  - Where could she be from? Women of the North were stubborn, impulsive, strong, loud and oftentimes relied on their brawn to get things done - Like every citizen, for the matter. But this slender little waif had the silver tongue of a snake and a coy aura. A woman who uses her brains... But does she also have the brawn? From the way she was holding up the wall, she had to, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to climb it all. She proposed herself a puzzle. An enigma. And for some odd reason, he wanted to solve it. Was this her plan all along? “Your reason for being here was not an accident.” he stated obviously, snatching the cloak from his shoulders and effortlessly throwing it back to her. “For the most part, it was. My brother had ran away from home. I was worried for his well-being, so I ran after him. I tackled him. We toppled over into the portal door. I did not expect to end up in Midgard - But the ravens found us and teleported us... In the middle of the lake.” she spoke the truth. “You claim to be the protector of your realm - That means its people too. Surely, you would understand what it is like, playing the part of the protector of your family.” she continued. “Family?” the man scoffed with disgust. “My duty is wholly to the All Father.” “Ahh, I see. So you are a very selfish man. You care for your homeland and for your employer, not for anything else that regards it. Is your loyalty towards Odin... Based on the fact that he is the most powerful man, and the ruler of the realms? Or are you truly loyal to his political convictions?” she hummed in amusement. “Are you questioning my devotion to the All Father?” he was getting easily angered. “I am questioning nothing. I am simply curious where your heart lays. Staying isolated, guarding a wall that has probably not seen any intruders in ages, all alone. You must have true devotion to whatever your cause is. Aesir supremacy.” the harsh glare she was met with made her even more entertained. She hoped she would be able to get him angry enough to attack her, soon enough.

Although, as soon as they finished their cabin ride and were down on the other side, on the grassy ground, they reached a lovely rural village... And a saddled beast that Y/N has never seen before. Heimdall seemed so... Kind and genuine with this beast. Loving, in fact. When Atreus commented on how the Aesir taming this animal was almost as impressing as Baldur and his dragon, the man must have felt almost... Offended. “Baldur had the luxury of not caring about being burnt. I out-think them. Dominate them, fair and square.” interesting line, Y/N thought. So one of his powers was his wit.

But her analysing of the stranger came to a halt once Atreus jumped on the beast’s saddle and she realised there might not be another seat for her. “How chivalrous of you, brother. Allowing a lady to walk. Father taught you better.” though she shook her head, she smiled, showing she wasn’t seriously scolding her little brother. “Just get up, there’s enough space for a little thing like you. I don’t need you slowing us down.” the man rolled his eyes and extended his hand, and she gladly took it, hopping to sit between him and Atreus. Smirking in triumph, happy that he could not see her, the girl cheekily reached her arms and snaked them around his torso. “What the hell are you doing?!” he was so alarmed that, upon leaning to the side, she noticed his milky cheeks growing ever pinker. “I do not have what else to hold onto. If I were to fall off, the trip would come to a halt, thus, slowing down. I do not want to be a bother for you, Heimdall.” he had a mind to reach out and wring her neck or just kick her off and pretend he had no idea who she was. Better yet, he had another plan, that may or may not get the both of them killed. He had to test their prowess, first and foremost. He was already aware of the brat’s treacherous intentions, and he was an idiot. The girl was far smarter and cunning - She was the real threat.

Once arrived at the great lodge, Heimdall commanded his mount to act up, sending Atreus flying away, meeting with a painful thud to the ground. Y/N did not. She landed like a cat on her feet, so gracefully and effortlessly that it pissed him even more. “Can you handle them on your own, Atreus?” the girl asked, nonchalantly stepping around, without a care in the world.  “You want me to fight alone?” the boy’s eyes widened in shock, readying his weapon. “A-Alright! Alright!” he started killing away at the Einherjar, until none were left.

Except for the Aesir God himself. He had analysed thoroughly the fight, and he deemed Loki to be hilariously weak. But the girl seemed... Painfully daft. Of course, he knew it was all an act, but for an overprotective sister, as she claims to be, she did not help her brother at all. She just... Skipped around, like a little girl. Why? What was she trying to hide? He had to be very careful around her.

He got off his mount and stepped menacingly towards Atreus. He toyed around with the boy - It was so easy... But his eyes would always dart towards the foreign woman. She was humming a song, crouched to the ground and admiring... A wild flower. What the hell was this? She made no sense. No sense at all. Maybe most of the Aesir he met were just too dumb? Heimdall thought of Thor and Baldur, and he made a mental note - Yes, they were dumb as a log. 

After a string of trips to the young boy, he was ready to kick him to the ground - But unexpectedly, just as his leg was in the air to push him down... He felt a hand gripping his leg, before he saw e/c eyes staring up at him. His cheeks warmed up once more realising that this weird woman had her chest flushed against his own, holding him steady with one hand gripping his floating leg by his thigh, and the other strongly around his waist. “Have you figured out what I am yet?” he has never allowed anyone to touch him before, especially in a fight - How in the Nine Realms did she manage to grapple him like that?! She was on the other end of the court, and now she was so intimately close to him? What the hell was she trying to do? 

Realising that he wasn’t answering, but she could feel his heart beating unusually fast and his brain was so fried from shock that he wasn’t even reacting altogether, Y/N’s smile grew a bit bigger, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I guess not.” but before she could play around more, the crackling of thunder whipped the skies - Both of them realised what it meant. “Shame. I was enjoying your company very much.” she let go of him gently, turning to help Atreus up from the ground. “Great...” Heimdall also growled under his breath, shaking his head to get rid of that unwelcomed blush. How dare that wench attempt something so promiscuous with him? How dare she play around with him like that? He was of noble heritage, but he wasn’t some drunk fuck who did nothing but whore around, like his unfortunate half-brother Thor. He was straight and very much valued his royal God blood with unbent convictions.

As soon as that drunk halfwit arrived on the ground, blocking him from the two intruders and telling him to knock it off, that they truly were Odin’s guests, he wanted to spat between his eyes and throw him off the wall. What a dumb fuck. And he dares call himself an Aesir God. If he could, Heimdall would gut him like a fish. He was nothing but a shame to the Aesir bloodline and the All Father - And thankfully, he knew it very well.

His humiliation only grew more once the dumb oaf told him to look him in the eyes, convince himself with what kind of shameless brutality he was going to stop him from attacking the guests - He was so angry. “You are a sick man.” Heimdall sneered at his half-brother, who looked down at him with a weirdly calm look. Y/N looked again at the ginger haired giant of a man - He was even bigger than their dad, and far wider, evident during that day when they attacked their home. Though dad didn’t want to kill him, Thor was a  worthy opponent. Maybe he wasn’t Zeus, but he wasn’t a weakling either, at least. 

Startling the two new-comers, the pitched screech of crows echoed out of nowhere, and Odin appeared before them, in the same manner they arrived here. “Loki! You made it. I am so honoured. I see you’ve brought your sister with you as well, I am flattered!” the old man walked towards them. “I apologise for the unexpected intrusion. I know you had business with Atreus alone. I am here more or less in the quality of an over-protective sister who, uh...” the girl scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Who tackled me to the ground, and we stumbled through the portal together.” the boy threw her a shady look, only for her to answer with a feigned innocent smile. “Yes, pretty much!” Odin knew some little girl wouldn’t be able to thwart his plans. “No matter, you are just as welcomed as he is!” how fakely cordial he was. “I see you’ve met Heimdall. He reads minds for me.”  “O, yes, we have met. He is a delight. Are very pretty too!” Heimdall, hearing that, growled under his breath and stomped next to the God. “The boy is false, All-Father. And the girl blocks me from reading her mind.” he spoke, glaring at Y/N. “This young man, WHO IS MY GUEST, is covered in mud. Care to explain?” Odin’s voice was a tad harsh and reprimanding towards the man who meant only to protect him. Heimdall’s face became soft and submissive, and he even did a little courtesy bow in front of the All-Father. “They both mean to betray you!” Odin immediately turned to face the boy, and with a fake gasp, he spoke. “Is that true, Loki? You a little trickster?” Y/N started giggling, very much amused by his act. “Yes, sometimes! When he was younger especially, he used to pull all sorts of cute, little pranks on me!” the girl teased Atreus, who only shot her an offended glare. “Hey, I’m not a child anymore!” darling, him. “I’m just messing around, but your sister seems to have caught on to my act.” Odin waved his hand dismissively at the worried boy. “Of course he means to betray me.” he turned around to face the man, whose expression was absolutely crestfallen at the affirmation. “Heimdall, I’ve given neither of them any reason to trust me... Not yet. But he’s got some very big questions. And I have so many answers to give.” Thor was dismissed, and Heimdall was sent to clean up - The all-seeing Aesir was genuinely concerned for Odin. “But... All-Father...” he tried to whisper, but was shushed immediately by an exasperated old man. “Heimdall -- Sja hvat... Heimdall, will you just relax?” Odin turned to Atreus and Y/N. “Were you two intending on killing me first thing?” the two shook their heads. “See? What - That’s not good enough for you? Get outta here!” Heimdall had the expression of a kicked puppy, as he crossed one arm to his shoulder and bowed his head.  “O, actually - I was wondering if Heimdall had some free time. It is the first time either of us steps in Asgard - I would like to see more beautiful sceneries... If it is not too much too ask.” Heimdall stopped abruptly on the spot, his back turned, and glad that neither of the three could see him cursing under his breath. He wanted to spend exactly no second in the presence of that annoying woman. “But of course! You can ask him anything and he will answer just as well, or even better than I could, for any question you might have. I don’t think there’s anyone in Asgard more qualified to speak of this realm. Heimdall, when she’s done visiting, bring her to her room. I will have someone clean out one for her as well.” Odin ordered, watching the girl pat her brother on the head with a sisterly smile. “Thank you for your kindness - And forgive me again for intruding like that. Have fun, Atreus.” with a lazy peace sign, Y/N skips by Heimdall’s side and smiles innocently. “Wipe that smile off your face already, I know it’s fake.” it only made her hum in amusement. “Why do you want to make my entire existence a living hell? Have I already made you hate me so much that you’ve made your life’s mission to torture me for your whole stay here?” this time, her smile disappeared, and she looked more confused than ever. “Actually - I merely thought you looked upset, and I wanted to ask if you were alright.” she explained in a kind, soothing voice, making the man frown. “Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable with our previous interactions. If touching is comfortable for you, I will not do so again. Forgive me.” her expression was much softer, and she intentionally looked in his eyes, so he would see personally that she was being genuine. Heimdall scoffed and looked away. “Good. You finally get it.” he mumbled, crossing his arms to his chest as he walks ahead for the girl to follow. “So. Do you really want to see the landscapes, or was that just an excuse to apologise, and I can drop you off and get rid of you already?” he asked, but much to his dismay, her word was true. “I do want to know more about your culture and history. As you said - I am not from this lands. I have moved here awhile ago - In fact, I have been here more than I have been at my own home. Even so, there is not much that I know about your culture, your history, or traditions. Mimir would tell me occasionally, but there is only so much he can say at once.” she explains, making small steps ahead. “Oh, of course, Mimir, the old goat - The ever smart one.” he grumbled, almost as if he was jealous. “Fine then. I will grace you with the knowledge of the great Aesir Gods. However!” he turned abruptly, facing her dangerously close. “You have to tell me where are you from and what you are.”  “That sounds like a fine deal.” she smiled at him as they returned to the cabin car and all the way back down on the other side of the wall. 

It is here that Heimdall showed his passionate side, for once, in the small time frame since they’ve met up. He looked sincerely happy and proud, speaking confidently about the Almighty realm of Asgard, the Aesir bloodline, and their fantastic culture. Most of all, he praised Odin a lot, but Y/N paid no mind to that - She wanted to learn as much as possible about the North in general. Who knows, maybe it will serve as important information for the future.

Who could have thought that the bratty Heimdall could be such great company? If he didn’t play around as being so arrogant and all-knowing all the time, it might serve him well. Still, it seemed obvious that no one that she has met likes this God. The night was already beginning to creep by, so the Aesir escorted the girl back to the lodge. As they got back on the wall, however, it was pitch black, with only the stars and the moon illuminating their way, and torches from the Aesir village. But there was something else as well - 

Y/N turned to get a good look at the gorgeous mountain landscape and the lake in which she had fallen - And then noticed the most breath-taking Aurora in the world. Her jaw was dropped slightly, and her eyes wide in wonder. “This is the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life.” she was barely able to make herself speak those words, and she didn’t even hear the blond man stepping next to her, as she was far too stunned and in awe. “Oh, this? It’s like this every night. I guess it’s not as impressive when you see it every day, for centuries.” Heimdall played it cool. “The colours are so vivid. And... They move! The howl of the wind makes it sound like... There are animals up there.” without realising, her hand was already reaching up, as if to touch the flowing lights. “Yeah, well, I guess you wouldn’t know. Up there are the souls of every animal that ever died. It’s not just the wind.” he might have been snappy, but seeing a complete foreigner admiring his home so whole-heartedly made him feel incredibly proud. 

“I wish I could be up there, with them.” she found herself whispering, completely enchanted by the vivid dancing lights of the colourful souls. “If you have a death wish, I can just throw you off the wall.” the man scoffed, turning his back to her. He couldn’t handle looking at her anymore, in fear of admitting to himself that this dangerous stranger was... Ethereal. Her eyes were gleaming with the lights of the Aurora, shining brighter than even his own - And her flawless face adorned with such perfect features... It was highlighted by that innocent and mesmerised emotion that overcame her. He couldn’t... He shouldn’t... He wouldn’t... Admit she was breath-taking, like no other Aesir Goddess he has ever met. “I would not die.” she admitted plainly, almost melancholic. “I always liked animals for than people. They are far easier to deal with. And they do not make assumptions based on silly criteria.” the girl muttered, feeling her heart almost vulnerable before the very display of natural art. “Said the girl flirting with me the whole day.” Heimdall rolled his eyes, not wanting to spend any more time around her. “Come on, stop staring, tomorrow is another night for this. I’m too tired to deal with you anymore.” he grabbed her arm and dragged her along to the cabin, guiding her to her new room, pointing to the kitchen along the way.  “Thank you for having patience with me today. I know I have ruined your work day, but I deeply appreciate spending this day with you. May you have the sweetest dreams tonight, Heimdall.”  the man simply gritted his teeth in annoyance and left the place - He truly needed a drink. He could not stand this woman and that overly fake facade of hers. How can she piss him off the whole day, then act so stupidly diplomatic and courteous, as if he actually had to forgive her? Stupid woman and her stupid feminity and compassion... And honesty.

Y/N was admiring her new, temporary room and putting everything in place, before her stomach growled. It wasn’t often that she felt hungry or sleepy to begin with - But the warmth of this room took its toll on her. She exited her chambers and went to look for the kitchens to get something to eat and some water - Which she did not find, but wine, she did. Not the best, but not the worst. Better than the bitter ale, at least.

All Gods and others were drinking and being loudly cheery inside the large room - But Y/N didn’t feel comfortable around such a thunderous dinner, so she went to search for another room, hopefully more quiet and... Alone, rather. She would have preferred not to eat in her own room - It was bad manners, especially as she was a guest - But she would do so, if need be. 

Leaning on a wall, alone, and with a large draft mug in his hand, Y/N unexpectedly found the Foresight God in the empty dining room. “Huh? Are you trying to make friends now?” Heimdall snapped at the girl, who looked curious at him, like a little fawn.

“Why are you all alone?” the man gritted his teeth, picking up on the pitying tone. “Here to interrogate me, then? Are you, perchance - Pitying me now? Feeling bad for me, for seeking peace of mind, amongst all these cretins?” he seemed awfully defensive of his choice. “Not quite.” she spoke, placing her tray on the table. “I, also, do not feel comfortable with such a booming and... Forgive my wording, but ‘vulgar’ crowd. I appreciate my quiet time.” the lady explained, seemingly sympathetic.  “I just thought you looked - Lonely.” she admitted. “The other room is far too loud for me. You can join me at the table, if you wish. Standing up while drinking cannot be comfortable.” The man rolled his eyes and scoffed, but ultimately, after much deliberation, he slammed down his mug opposite of her - He still wanted to try and read her mind.  “Lonely, she says. LONELY! Gods don’t get lonely, that’s ridiculous.” he looked into her eyes, but he could see absolutely nothing. “What, you disagree?” he snarked at her, and she nodded her head. “I get lonely sometimes.” she spoke lucidly. “Do not misunderstand me - I love my family and our new friends... But sometimes, I do wish I could... Stray away, just a tiny bit. Meet new people, socialise... And whatever it is that people our age are supposed to do. I... Am not quite sure.” she explained so casually, that Heimdall almost didn’t pick up on the implication at first. “Wait. You mean to say - You’re a God.” she nodded. “You.” again, she nodded. “A. God.” he was flabbergast. “No. No way. I don’t believe you.” “I am more of a God than you are.” the girl smirked and reached out her hand to drink some of the wine - Only to choke and put it back. How ridiculous and anti-climatic. “Urgh. This is so bitter. Are you people against sweet drinks? Or water, in general? Are you afraid of rusting?” with a groan, Heimdall snatched her goblet and left the room, only to later return with a whole flagon of nicely cold water, which he poured for her.  “Happy now?” seeing the girl enjoy the water so happily, he rolled his eyes with a disgusted look. “You are SO useless.” “Why do you not believe me when I say I am a God?” she asked, drinking more water. “Thank you for going out of your way to bring me water, by the way. I appreciate it.” she smiled at him gratefully - Oh, how he wanted to wipe that stupid smile away. “Because you simply cannot be a God! Look at you - You’re a dumbass! You are frail, you have no remarkable powers, and you’re not smart either. There’s nothing special about you!” he insulted the girl, who mocked him by pretending to think. “I may not be special, but somehow, you cannot read my mind. And I caught you off-guard multiple times.” it only angered the man. “You are just doing some stupid little trick that I can’t guess yet, that’s all. Nothing witty.” he tried to reason. “Do you want me to tell you my trick, then?” she asked, leaning her jaw on her palm. “What - You think I’m incapable of detecting some cheap tricks?” she shrugged. “I did not mean to offend you, Heimdall.” she said, once again, watching the man scoff and hit the back of his chair, sprawling himself over it. What a terminally capricious man. “You’re as fake as it gets. At least that stupid little giant boy is more honest.” he grumbled menacingly. “Atreus was born and raised here. I was not. For me, the way I speak, is a customary way of showing respect, especially for a stranger. Where I come from, everyone speaks this way. I suppose the rules of communication are more lax and friendly around here.” Y/N explained, sighing - It was times like this that she truly missed home. “You are here - That means you have to act like us.” she did not reply. “Did you hear me?!” “I will not change who I am, just to appease your unsavoury childish behaviour.” her tone changed to a more deadpan one. It was solemn, but authoritarian. It shocked the man. “Listen here, you --” but he was cut off. “Does it bring you joy? Being such a cunt?” the man’s jaw dropped to the floor with offense, only amplified by the dignified woman using such foul language addressed to him. “Forgive me - Did not expect just an obscene word, did you? I hate cursing, but you are extremely deserving of that title.” she said, with a clear sharp edge. “So - Does it bring you joy? Being so awful that nobody in Asgard can stand you? Or perhaps this was your goal all along - Alienating anyone, being the laughingstock of Asgard, being used as a tool by the one you worship - Because that is the only thing you are good for?” she stared deeply into those beautiful, glowing purple eyes of his - They looked exactly like the Aurora on the sky, she realised. “How dare you assume such things? You have been here less than a day, and you think you know everything? Who do you think you are?” he rose from his chair, slamming his hands on the table. “A Goddess of Olympus.” she did not raise - Instead, she straightened her back and looked straight at him. She was giving him what he needed - But he had no idea how to take it. “Why the FUCK can’t I read your mind, damn it?!” he yelled at her. “I can see what people really are. I can read people - I can smell their lies, their deceit, their intentions. I see them lying to the world, and even themselves - And sometimes, they don’t even know they’re doing it themselves!” he stepped from behind the table right next to her - He grabbed her arm and dragged her up to his level. “So why is it that I can’t read as stupid little girl like you?” “It is not that you cannot - You can. It is that I have not allowed you to peer into my mind.” she explained simply. “The simple fact that I allowed you to see into my mind, but showed you only silly things, meant that I can play with you at my will.” her closed-eyed smile was oh so very annoying. “HOW?!” he shouted at her - But she looked even more devious than a fox. “Would that not destroy the trick, then? It is far too simple, actually. I would say, if people had the wit, they could even do so themselves. Alas, most people do not... Or cannot. It requires a certain training and strength of mind. But I have just the right discipline instilled into me, to accomplish such a facile thing.” she spoke to him. “I hate you.” the blond spat in anger. “I hope the All-Father sees how much of a menace you are and kills you already. I would have killed you long ago, but I will respect his orders.” he pushed her back into the chair, seething between his gritted teeth. “That is quite the pity - I was enjoying your company greatly. I suppose your style is... Old men who use you for your powers, but do not like you and would kill you at the drop of the hat should your use be removed.” the man looked at her with absolute dread. “Do you want to see into my mind, then? No tricks? I shall allow you.” and she did - And once the man had access to her mind, his expression changed, and he looked distraught. He took a step back, and then another, before he looked away in annoyance; His rage was dissipated, and only a dark, foreboding feeling took over. “So you don’t care about anything around you, as long as your family is safe. Boring. You’re not even here to deceit or betray - You just don’t care at all, do you? You just... Are. That’s it. You just - Exist. Nothing more, nothing less.” the girl nodded in affirmation. “Gosh, you’re boring as hell.” she nodded once more. “Whatever. You’ve annoyed me enough. I will leave now.” the man spoke. “Beware the one who pretends to be your friend.” she warned, but the blond man had already stormed off, probably to drink his anger away at his home, close to the wall, and far away from the Lodge and all its inhabitants.

Y/N sighed and looked down at her light meal - It would have been nicer if she still had company, but it seems that no matter where she goes, she manages to push people away from her. Was it because she has different opinions from these people? Or because they are supposedly fated enemies? Who knew. Either way, she hurried to finish her dinner, not feeling comfortable in this place filled with Aesir Gods that would attempt to kill her - Maybe - With the first chance they got.

Even so, she had to think of a way to apologise to Heimdall - Not that she thought she was wrong, per se - She never did like Odin, and thought him incredibly fake ; Moreover, he was incredibly harsh and rude to the Foresight haver, she’d even go so far to say it was unnecessarily mean. Y/N hoped that, somehow, some day, she would be able to get through Heimdall’s shell and make him see again, for he blinded and deluded himself into thinking he is cherished by the All Father, when in fact, he is worth less than dirt, and would have been thrown off the Wall, were it not for his ability. He wasn’t an unexpendable asset to Odin - He was as replaceable as any other pawn in his army. Y/N liked him though. She was able to see the hurt in his eyes, whenever he was being undermined by Odin and even Thor. He did have a heart and the brains, but only if he would actually use them, he could see the truth before his very eyes.

The next day, however, she had no time to go to Heimdall and have a good talk, for the All Father had personally come to her to tell her of a mission, and whether she would like to join - Of course, she would have refused, were it not for both Atreus and Heimdall joining, and not only them, but Thor’s own daughter, Thrud. As far as she understood, their destination was the freezing Helheim - Not exactly the best place for a date - Alas.

She was the third to arrive down in the cellar or whatever it was that served as Odin’s study and work room, and she lazily waved at the two - Thrud was just a little bit taller than Atreus, and she seemed to be just his age. How cute! “My, little brother, I didn’t realise you moved so fast! You are becoming a ladies’ man, just like our dad!” the girl chuckled leisurely, patting the boy’s head, only for him to blush deeply and push her away. “What the hell are you on about?!” he glared at her like a little brat, which only made his sister laugh more.  “Ah, to be young and in love~” Thrud also seemed to be taken aback with embarrassment by the comment, for she immediately pushed the Greek Goddess who was not expecting such a reaction, and due to her much slender built, she stumbled on her feet. “Don’t tease us like that!” Thor’s daughter yelled at her, only to see Heimdall extending his arm casually to catch the falling Goddess. “Ah, yes, what a privilege, having to play the baby-sitter role for a bunch of stupid children.” he sighed and rolled his oh so beautiful purple eyes. “What a lovely surprise, Heimdall!” Y/N smiled sweetly at him, not bothering to get up from his arms. “You knew I would join the mission.” he, too, glared at her, just like everyone else present. “It still is wonderful seeing you!” he let her fall to the ground with a painful thud. “That... Was not as lovely.” “Alright, time to go. Before I forget - You don’t wanna walk into the blistering cold of Helheim without this.” Odin said, as soon as Y/N jumped back to her feet. “Efri-la.” he put a spell on them, which made them forever warm whilst marching through the freezing hell. “Should keep you nice and toasty. You’re welcome.” “Huh. Mimir said even Odin couldn’t survive the cold in Helheim...” Atreus pointed out. “You believe everything that old goat says?” Heimdall snarked at him immediately, creating an awkward silence, save for the croaking ravens surrounding them. “Thrud, too bad your first time outside Asgard has to be Helheim...” he spoke in an almost upset voice. “Nah! We’re gonna make the most out of this!” she exclaimed with enthusiasm and a thirst for adventure. “Now, as much as I would love to babysit, I have something else to do for the All Father. If you run into any trouble, just scream so I know where to find your bodies.” the man disappeared without a trace. “Nobody dies on my watch, it is quite alright. You, children, have your fun.” Y/N spoke in a soft voice, motioning to the boy to go ahead and start his mission. Atreus never really had the chance to make friends, or even experience the beauty of developing a crush - Hopefully, he enjoys this playground date.

Not once did she bother to speak up, instead opting for making her presence unremarked, and allowing the two kids to speak at their own leisure, without feeling hindered by an adult. She didn’t even bother trying to convince Thrud of Odin’s treacheries and corruption. She was far too stuck up and indoctrinated, though not much different than Heimdall himself. It was going to be a tough job trying to get through any of them, anyway.

And even when Atreus wanted to liberate the huge wolf, she was by his side, though she had no idea why it was even chained to begin with. Surely something bad was going to happen. The magic mask was glowing no more, and Thrud was very abruptly turning on Atreus. As soon as they arrived back at the meeting place, however, they saw mauling marks... In the air... As if the wolf had torn and scratched apart the realm itself. Y/N stepped in front of it and tried to touch it - It had a rough texture. How very weird. “You absolute, unqualified MORON!” Heimdall’s voice boomed out of nowhere. He was pissed. Really pissed, not just annoyed as back then when Y/N was flirting with him. This time, things were royally fucked. “You know that thing tears holes between realms, right?” that explained everything - No wonder he was so angry - Odin was going to count him as the responsible one for this mess. “Well, I suppose I should expect nothing less... From half-breeds.” Atreus tried to shoot back, but was ultimately hit in the knee and made to kneel on the ground. “I will call you whatever I like, junior.” his voice was but a whisper, yet a threatening, malicious one. “Leave him alone. It was a mistake.” Thrud tried to defend the boy bravely, but was immediately taunted.  “No! The mistake was allowing you to think that you’re ready.” It was the first time that Y/N heard the Aesir God yell - It was almost scary. She did not like it. “You helped him, didn’t you?” there was silence, as the two had an intense staring showdown. “What side are you on... Guppy?” “Try me and find out.” there was almost an earie sense of self-confidence that gave Thor’s daughter power - But it was all a feint.  The blond man put his hands back and stepped away, laughing tauntingly at her. “And what are YOU going to do, exactly?” he asked, easily stepping away from a jump kick from the young girl. “You see - Everyone takes it easy on you because they are afraid of your father. I am not. That fat, drunken utter piece of trash!” every comment on her father provoked the daughter even more - She rushed with a sloppy barrage of left and right hooks to his head, but they were far too easily dodged, and she was ultimately pushed away.  “HEY!” Atreus jumped in front of the girl, only to be pushed aside with incredible ease. “AGAIN!” Thrud challenged the Foresight God, who was outright humiliating the two weaklings. “Yes, yes. The dumb does not fall far from the tree.” he did a mock courtesy before her. “Very well, then. Give me your best shot.” Thrud charged headfirst, trying to land a punch, but was side-stepped and tripped to the ground. “You have a LOT to learn, little girl. Starting with - Who your family is... And who it is not.” he crouched before her laying form, and she sneered up at him. “Just wait until I’m a Valkyrie.” she was seething with anger at being so disrespectfully easily defeated. “Ha! Haha...! Oh. You really believe the All Father would allow that to happen?” the man sighed, putting his hands together. “Please, do not let this little weasel feed you delusions any longer.” Y/N had no idea why she wouldn’t be allowed to become a Valkyrie - Didn’t the Norse value them, and considered them some of the strongest fighters? Or was it because Thrud was far too young and inexperienced? “Y/N, DO SOMETHING!” Atreus called out to his sister, who watched Thrud shriek loudly “ENOUGH!” and become self-afflicted with little rays of thunder around her, mirroring her father. Y/N sighed, and before Thrud could get close to Heimdall, Y/N got between them and with her powers, slapped away both Thrud and Atreus into the wall harshly, using a basic back-slap, the only way of not showing off any strength to Heimdall, but also, as a pure Olympian Goddess, her powers were to be reckoned with. “I meant against that jerk, not us! Whose side are you on?!” her brother growled at her. “For how long are you two going to behave like petulant children?” she asked, sighing and shaking her head. “You are pathetic. Father trained you better than this.” she had to admit she was disappointed in the weakness that her pampered up and spoiled, entitled little brother displayed in this mocking of a fight. Heimdall stepped in front of her, looking down at her with a doubtful expression. Did she try to... Protect him? Shield him from that laughable attack? Surely, she wouldn’t dare underestimate him, would she? “I do not need your protection - And if you think you can feign your allegiance --”  “I am not. And I was not protecting you - You are perfectly capable of doing that yourself.” her answer was edged and curt, and she seemed unlike her jovial self from before. “I have told you before - You speak the truth, yet you add your own sense of cruelty to your words. Heimdall, you have long since proved your aptitude and strength to me, thus I have no reason to doubt you would easily be able to kill these two in the blink of an eye.” the girl scoffed, side-eying the two children groveling pitifully on the ground, defeated and woeful. “I was not protecting you - I was protecting them.” she admitted simply. “They still have lifetimes to learn. This encounter should serve as a lesson for these two. Alas, they just fail to understand that even provoking is a sense of training. Discipline allows you to see past that, and focus transforms your rage into strength.” she explained sternly. Heimdall huffed to himself, stepping away from her, and though he hated to admit, this wisdom of hers... He could agree with it. She was... Annoyingly right, in the most objective way possible. However, Heimdall also realised, this wisdom came with the painful price of loneliness and an empty void that could never be filled. She was strong, just like he was - And people around just weren’t ever enough to satisfy them. “If you’re acting so smart, why didn’t you stop them from creating such a mess?” he asked, leaning back on a pillar. His anger dissipated, and instead, curiosity washed over him. “Simply because I had no idea what that wolf represented.” she shrugged. “Men must live with the consequences of their own actions. It was the three of us that liberated the wolf, thus, it falls to us to either shackle it once more, or destroy it, before it destroys us. It is that simple.” her answer was passive and cold, allure, as if she was not addressing people, but speaking into the wind. She knew she was capable of solving this mess by herself, the Aesir realised, much to his dismay - She was confident in her abilities. They say - Any man who must say ‘I am the King’ is no true King - And she was the best example of that; Fear the foe who doesn’t brag, but instead, remains quiet as the late, and focused like a predator aiming for their prey. “Oh, great. It’s like I’m having father with me again. I asked for my sister, not my father!” Atreus whined, giving Y/N the stink eye. “If I were to give in to every provoking sent my way, I would have either been long dead, or left the Earth with no more population. Remember, however, that if you choose to answer with violence, you must asses the situation and know that you are capable of defeating your opponent. In your case, neither of you can win against Heimdall, so, if he wanted to, he could have easily killed you long ago. Lucky you.” it was clear that neither of the younger ones was liking her statement - In fact, her brother especially was very bothered by it. “You and father are the same! Don’t bother preaching to me that you’re not the favourite child, or that you both love me, when you scold me like this.” the boy huffed in annoyance, getting back to his feet. “What - Nothing more to say now?” “I have nothing more to say to you.” Y/N closed her eyes, crossing her arms to her chest. “To think that mommy dearest would scold her little ducklings, how amusing. You toddlers are so... Boring.” Heimdall clapped mockingly at the two. “Now then, if you are finished throwing your little tantrum, we should go, because I cannot wait to watch you explain this mess to the All Father. Oh, it’s going to be glorious!” Heimdall called for the raven to teleport them back to Odin’s study - But he wasn’t there. They went up to Odin’s study in the lodge, listening to more of Heimdall’s scrutiny. “Loki of the Jotnar. I am haunted by your incompetence. It keeps me up at night. No, seriously! I-I-I find the hues and shades of your shortcomings almost moving.” the Aesir was almost shaking with laughter. “If we could only somehow harness your uselessness, we could fuel this entire city!” Y/N wanted to laugh so dearly, remembering how funny Hermes’s shady comments were. She missed Hermes.

When they got to the All Father, he sent Atreus to his room, whilst Heimdall remained to speak of his own mission with his master. Seeing that she had nothing more to do here, she went out to sit by the Wall, dangling her feet and looking up at the sky, a the clouds passing by. It was approaching evening, and the otherwise clear azure sky was rapidly turning all kinds of shades and colours of every palette existent to mankind. She missed home dearly, but the beauty of the North was truly ethereal.

Time passed by, and she was all alone save for the crickets playing their tune, and the breeze going through her long locks as she watched the Aurora, with as much peace and joy as before. No matter how much she gazed at it, she couldn’t get enough of its beauty. It was a soothing atmosphere, and watching the lapse between hours and the sky’s colours changing so radically was bringing her perfect harmony. Watching the sky from the very top of Mount Olympus was gorgeous, but adding the Northern Lights and the twinkling silver stars only made things even more special.

“Mommy dearest is all alone, surrounded by enemies. She has no idea her little duckling had abandoned her.” the mocking voice of Heimdall disturbed the peace, making Y/N casually lean her head back to look at him. “I must have really upset him earlier. I try to understand him - Both myself and father - But he is different from what we were as children. Our education was tough growing up, and discipline was instilled into us since birth. Everything was lax for him. It is not easy. It is too bad that he does not want to understand our differences.” she shrugged simply, shifting her gaze back to the sky. “I never truly understood adolescence.” “Then leave. Go back home. Nobody asked you to cross the whole realm like a martyr.” he hopped down next to her - Though he was mocking, he wasn’t as aggressive as before. Y/N could even say he was being... Friendly. “I asked to leave.” she admitted in a whispery voice. “My mother died in childbirth. I... Never thought that Gods could die of something like this. I was still a child. Father was not home. My mother went into labour, but she was suffering from fetal dystocia. I tried to get the baby out, but it did not work. I had to kill her. Carve her belly open and extract that... Thing.” she spoke in a bitter voice, shifting her sight back towards the aurora - Her eyes was unfocused and glossy, and her voice was empty, yet dripping with unspoken sadness. “I was holding that thing in my arms, and I tried to use my powers to heal her. The wound did heal, but she would not answer. I raised my head to see her, to tell her she can hold her baby, but she still did not answer. The baby wasn’t screaming either. I think it was stillborn. I do not know to this day. I had ripped it apart in my anger. When father came home, he saw me brushing her hair. I was unresponsive for a long time. I told him I will not spend another day in Greece. We went to Egypt, and then, the Gods guided us up here, North. Dad married Faye, had Atreus, his wife died... Again.” she sighed softly, a bitter smile on her face, so different than the otherwise calculated and calm composure of hers. “And that silly little boy cannot accept that there are far worse things in life than a life lesson or a scolding. Maybe he will - Someday - But until then...” she let her voice trail on into the night. “You did not tell this story to anyone before. Why me? I’m not your friend.” he snapped his head to her, scanning her features attentively. She was as gorgeous as always, but for some off reason, her melancholy made Heimdall’s frozen heart... Shiver. “But I do like you.” she spoke so casually, that even Heimdall could see the truth in her intent. “You are being ridiculous.” he watched her shrug. “I mean it. You are weird!” she didn’t seem to change her mind at all, and it was truly terrifying the lonesome blond. “I keep pushing you away - I insult you, I berate you, I taunt and mock you - I GENUINELY CANNOT STAND TO EVEN LOOK AT YOU!” even raising his tone didn’t work - Looking into her eyes, he could see the same answer. She was being honest. “You have NO reason to enjoy my company!” he exclaimed, frustrated with her stubbornness. “So?” he raised his eyebrows at her. “You cannot change how I feel.” “You are wasting your time.” she said nothing. “Gosh, you are annoying! Your brother is much more fun with how easily he gets triggered.” “I have too many centuries behind me to get irked by silly things like that. Back in Greece, I was very close to my mother’s best friend. His name is Hermes. He is a lot like you. Fast, witty, smart... Has the funniest and snarkiest comments about everyone.” the man watched her shoot him a playful smile. “So I’m the Aesir replacement of your long lost drunk uncle. Great. What a privilege.” he did not expect to hear a soft chuckle from her. “If you are trying to compliment me, you are failing miserably, just so you know.” “Forgive me. I just find you presence to be very endearing. And you are also very pretty. It adds to your charm.” he scoffed and looked away, his porcelain cheeks pained with the colour of pink peonies. “And your blush is even prettier on your pale skin. It brings out your beautiful eyes.” Heimdall’s arms caged the girl, slamming his palms on either side of her and getting close to her face, a frown painted. “Will you stop this stupid act already?!” Y/N, realising they were so close she could feel his breath on her skin, simply smiled demure. “You know it is not an act by the way you look at me.” the endearing smile did not disappear even once. “As far as I remember, it was you who did not want to be touched - Yet here you are, invading my privacy. Do you wish for a little kiss?” his eyes widened in surprise, especially as he could read the truth in her eyes. He tried to shift back to his seat on the wall, but in his flurry, he slipped and fell onto the girl, who was giggling like a little girl. “If you wanted a hug, you should have just asked. I, also, have not had one in a few centuries.” her hand reached to pat his head, before her arms engulfed him into a tight embrace, laying down over her smaller body. She could feel the way his heart was beating so fast against his chest. “You are SO insufferable!” his tone raised as he got rose to his forearms, looking down at the serene looking girl. It had taken quite a few seconds to process what was happening - Never once had Heimdall been embraced before, let alone feel his heart pounding against his chest. He felt physically sick for allowing himself such a vulnerable few moments of weakness. “Can’t you just wipe that annoying smile off your face for once?!” Instead, she rose just slightly and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Lighten up, pretty boy.” he stared at her, speechless, for a few moments, before he ran away, leaving Y/N to stare up at the starry sky, her amused smile never once leaving her face. For a man who loves to trash talk people, he sure was easy to fluster.

Still, being in that great lodge, surrounded by enemies, sure was the closest thing to frightening that she’s had to feel in a while. Somehow, though, she managed to fall asleep - At least for that night. The next day, however, people in the village seemed to be preparing for something akin to a festivity, long tables everywhere, lots of food, and even more drinks - In fact, so much ale that Y/N suspected the Aesir had an ale river. She had no idea, nor did she care about the event, but as soon as evening struck, everyone was outside, gathered around the huge bonfire. Some were singing, some were dancing, many were eating and everyone was drinking.

Y/N, too, went outside with a goblet of sweet wine, but even sitting on a log away from the festivity earned glares from the Aesir - Sif and Thrud especially - So she went even farther away, into the forest, at the bottom of a tree, watching the merriment of everyone. It was almost... Endearing. Everyone seemed genuinely happy, though drunk as all hell. Y/N sighed, thinking back to the grand banquets in Olympus, and at how drunk Dionysus was, trying to balance his cup on his manhood, or the many mischievous pranks she would pull with Hermes. She loved dancing... But she did not know dances of the North, nor any song. “You pitiful thing, all alone, rejected by everyone around.”  Heimdall sat down next to her, glaring at the people in front of him as he drank ale from his large draft mug. He had brought a whole carafe of sweet wine for the girl also. How considerate of him. “Sif made it clear I am not welcomed. I know my place, I do not want to dampen the mood and ruin the fun for everyone.” she clinked her goblet to his mug. “Cheers.” “Sif is a stuck up stick in the mud. Nobody likes her, and she likes nobody.” the man scoffed, getting more comfortable, leaning on the tree. For some reason, he felt oddly calm and at ease around this missy. “Why are you here anyway? It’s an Aesir festivity.” “I have not gone to such an event in a very long time. I had hoped that I would remember the times of Greek festivities. In my country, hospitality is everything. The host always goes out of his way to make the guest comfortable and welcomed.” she spoke, leaning her head down. “I suppose I have overstepped my welcome here. Had I known, I would have left with Atreus.” “Who cares about these guys? They are all a bunch of idiots. They need to get shit-faced drunk all the time to even stand one next to the other. They’re all a bunch of fake dumbasses. Why do you think I never bother with any of them?” he scoffed once again, revealing why he purposely isolates himself from his peers - None were worth his time; Likewise, why should he waste time with idiots who pretend to like each other, yet would spare no second to backstab at the first opportunity. “Do you never get lonely? Watching people being happy and having friends - Without you?” the girl asked, once again, emotionally vulnerable. “I used to sing and dance with everybody - However, I do not know the dances, the songs, nor the people.” “Ahh, you and your out-dated beliefs! How utterly ridiculous.” they stood quiet for a while, expecting for Y/N to retort - But nothing. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re seriously wanting to join them!” once again, she was silent. “Oh, for Asgard’s sake - You piss me off.” with a groan, Heimdall rose to his feet, putting his mug down on the grass. He extended his hand to the girl, though he looked away. “What are you waiting for? Get up already.” Confused as she was, Y/N, too, placed down her goblet and gingerly placed her hand over his, being helped up. He guided her a little farther away into the forest, and then stopped. He stood in front of her and looked down at her, still for a few seconds. Now that he allowed himself a few moments of respiro, he was able to admire the woman before him properly. He couldn’t believe himself, thinking that an enemy was so beautiful - Luscious pink lips and her velvety long hair, her sun-kissed skin, and those sparkling gemstone eyes. “What are you doing?” “Keep quiet and follow my lead.” he reached out to hold her other hand as well - It was so delicate and soft, unlike the skin of most of the women here, who were harshened by fighting. “You’re being stiff as a fence. Relax already. I thought you said you were a great dancer.” “Not such kinds of dances.” the girl’s crystalline hum of amusement sounded like a lullaby to his ears. “You are very good at dancing, Heimdall.” “Of course I am. I am a noble Aesir God.” he huffed, his face reddening lightly. “At least you’re getting better.” “I have a great teacher.” she smiled so sweetly at him - Nobody ever was this nice to him before, and he hated to admit, but every time he looked into her eyes, he could see she was beingtruthful. There was also the case of her faking it, of which he was truly terrified, but somehow, for some reason, a part of him wanted to believe that she was sincere. “It goes without saying.” even now, he was being patronisingly condescending, yet his heart was feeling... At ease. Light, even.

Then, they spoke no more. With every move, they would not shift their gaze away from each other’s eyes. With every twirl, their fingers remained intertwined. And each time, their bodies would get closer and closer, until they were flushed together. The faint sound of music guided them, but Heimdall’s humming was all that Y/N was paying attention to - His voice soothingly low and caressing of one’s soul. It was cold outside, yet they felt none of the harshness of the wind, for the dance of two hearts was keeping them as warm as the blazing hearth.

Time had passed at an uncertain pace, but it did not matter. Both Heimdall and Y/N had formed a bond they had never experienced before, nor expected. The most unlikely of persons were joining together, despite how different their beliefs and thoughts are, and at least for the night, they were now just two normal people, all alone and content with the other’s presence.

The night had ended and dawn had arrived, and only when the first ray of the warm morning Sun caressed their skins, did they begrudgingly stop dancing together, and returned to their own rooms to rest. Though the Aesir had other duties, guarding the Wall, Y/N was able to catch some well deserved sleep.   Afternoon went by like a breeze in Spring, and night formed again - Yet the night, she was denied, for Thor had torn her door from its hinges, his hammer at the ready and sparkling with his thunder power, threatening her for sleeping in the old room of one of his deceased sons. Were it not for her speed, jumping out of the window, she might as well have been bludgeoned to death by that hammer of his. Thankfully, she was able to make her lucky escape, to Heimdall’s own cabin. It was the dead of night when she knocked on his door. 

Once he answered the door, Y/N had a good look at him - Hair down, long and in golden waves, and dressed only in a long tunic of perfect quality, yet he did not seem to have been sleeping. “What. The hell. Are you doing here.” he asked, in disbelief. “What, did you have a nightmare and couldn’t go to daddy for comfort?” “In a way, yes.” Heimdall’s eyes widened and his mouth was slightly agape. “If you count Thor wanting to kill me, a nightmare, then yes, I did have a night terror, and quite the frightening one. I admit, I would rather not awaken to the sound of the door being pried open like that, and the crackling of thunder next to my ear.” she chuckled, a bit uneasy, only to see the man getting off the door frame and gesturing her to get inside. “What the hell has gotten into that half-wit?” Heimdall sneered. “Has he forgotten the All Father had forbidden all from harming you and that brother of yours?” “I think he was drunk. He seemed to be slurring and mumbling about his dead son.” she explained, sitting on the table. “Ah, yes, those useless brain dead idiots, Magni and Modi. They were a waste of space anyway. Leave it to Thor to lose it after every ale draft, just because Sif talks his ear off. If it weren’t for her, he’d just plague the tavern all day and night long.” the man rolled his eyes, before taking a look at her. “And you’re in the same clothes as yesterday.” “Not the most comfortable to sleep in, but the best I had.” blinking, the Foresight haver groaned, going to his wardrobe and throwing one of his pristine tunics at her head.  “Go change already.” she was wearing a bashful grin on her face, skipping to his own bedroom to change into the tunic. When she returned, she had done a little twirl - Heimdall couldn’t stare away from her. “It reminds me of the tunics from my own home. It is so comfortable and beautiful. Thank you, Heimdall.” why did his clothes look so well on her? And why did her bare legs look so beautiful? “Whatever. I’m going to read. Go sleep already.” he huffed, grabbing his book before getting into the armchair next to the fireplace. “Will you not join me tonight? It is quite late.” she spoke, plopping on the bed. “Besides, it is rude manners to hog one’s bed.” “You see - Unlike most of these disgusting half-wits, I do not go around, sleeping with women I am not married to. I have my own self-respect, you know?” the man huffed, hiding his face behind the book. “Well, perhaps one day.” she hummed with amusement, before getting in bed and covering herself with the warm blanket. “Sweet dreams, Heimdall.”

But the man did not answer, nor did he read. Instead, he made the mistake of allowing his mind to wander off far too much, once again, without meaning to. He wanted to see the girl before him, wearing a beautiful, rich dress, and on her head, a golden circlet, which he would remove, and in its place, a bridal crown of flowers, wood, and so many crystals and ornaments, to highlight her long and beautiful hair even more.. They would exchange swords and rings, and at the end, they would dance, and sing, and play games, and... No, that didn’t sound quite right. He couldn’t care less for these people, he didn’t want to bother with all these poor excuses who called themselves Aesir Gods. He hated them all, and they all hated him in turn. Why should they experience the beauty of this woman in all her glory? They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t be happy for him. They were all pathetic. They didn’t deserve him. They didn’t deserve them.

Heimdall let down his book and his eyes gazed upon the resting form of the girl that was in his bed. She was already fast asleep. What the hell was in Thor’s head, threatening her and scaring her like that? Oh, wait, that’s right. Nothing. His head is as empty as a hollow barrel. Fantastic. And to think they are half-brothers. Remarkable how one could turn so tragic, while another so perfect. He definitely took after his Giant mother...

Without realising, he was tempted into resting as well. He would only be lying down on the bed, nothing more. And so he did. On his side of the bed, far away from the girl, he rested his head on the pillow and shut his eyes, relaxing to the crackling of the firewood burning. He turned his head to the side, and watched the Greek Goddess cuddling that pillow to dear life, sleeping so peacefully. How silly. How utterly adorable and frail. She was so beautiful that Heimdall couldn’t help but reach out his hand and brush away the stray strand of hair from her face, caressing her soft cheeks with the back of his fingers.

But then, as he kept gazing at her so lovingly, she started to shift, and she was now facing him - And not only that, instead of the pillow, she was now clinging dearly to his own body, her form half-draped over his own as she cuddled into him. “Hey - What are you doing?! Get off already! You are being improper --” he whisper-yelled at the girl, trying to pry her off, but her strength was remarkable, even in her sleep. With a curse, Heimdall relaxed himself in that embrace, watching as Y/N nuzzled her face to his neck like a little kitten. Her breath was warm on his skin, and her embrace was tight around his body. He... Actually felt... So good. It felt like a blissful dream. He had never slept with anyone in his bed before, not like this. Sure, he might have had his way with some women, at some point, but not in his bed, and he did not stay the night with them. They weren’t worthy of his presence like that.

But he now felt so... Calm. So... At peace. He did not even realise he was playing around and caressing her beautiful hair, sprawled everywhere on the bed. Sighing, he resigned himself. He kissed the top of her head and cursed himself. What had he become? A prey to a woman’s sweet words and beautiful face. In the face of aversion, however, how would he react? And, most of all, would he fall to her convincing words and sad puppy eyes, or will he continue fighting for Odin, blind and deaf, as always?

Heimdall couldn’t sleep the whole night - Or, rather said, he did not want to sleep. He wanted to stay awake throughout the night, and enjoy the girl’s presence as much as possible. There probably won’t be any more opportunities like this one coming round. The war was brewing and bubbling up, soon to spill over. It was only his horn that kept Ragnarok at bay. For how long? No one knew.

The only thing he knew at the moment was that he did not want to let go of the woman in his arms. He looked down at her so fondly and caressed her beautiful face. So soft. So darling. And always smiling so sweetly for him. Why was she trying so hard to appeal to him? To make him talk to her? Why did she like him so much? He was a mere stranger to her - In fact, he was her enemy, and he threatened her family so often. Why did she like him so much? Was she seeing something that not even he could see?

Unfortunately, through the window of his chambers, morning had started bothering him - Why did the light have to come so soon? He was very content the way he was; was it necessary for him to be disturbed? “And I was sleeping so well...” even her sleepy, hoarse voice was lovely. “Sleep some more, then.” he muttered, watching her smile so innocently and cute. “Sounds good to me.” she got even more comfortable, snuggling into his side. What has he become?

But that day was not to remain forever calm, for Atreus had returned, and Odin was having him go on a mission to who knew where. She couldn’t let him go by himself, clearly, so she had to join. Odin did not allow Heimdall to join - Not that Atreus would have wanted to, anyway. He hated that man with all his might. But they had another friend joining - Thor - The man who threatened Y/N previously. It was not going to be a great day.

He was drunk again this day, just after a huge brawl where he destroyed the tavern - Fantastic, might as well get them both killed, then. Still, they had arrived safely at the Eternal Chasm where they were to find the last piece of the magic mask. Niflheim was as frozen as always and somber, and through all this fighting, she surely did not enjoy watching Thor vomit because of his drunken state, nor his previous threatening. He seemed fine - But for how long, she did not know. She will keep herself alert through it all.

Up on a high cliff, Atreus was able to merge the last piece of the mask, though he almost fell, Thor and Y/N held onto him so that he would not perish. In that exact moment, Odin teleported himself before them, praising the boy for his success. But that was not enough. Sif, followed by two valkyries, came by unannounced, threatening Kratos’s two children - They had wanted death, for the crimes committed against the Norse Gods. Odin was livid - At least they wouldn’t die for now. The All Father and Sif were quarreling more and more, but the woman went to her husband and spoke to him - Enough to convince him of rising his weapon and going to attack Atreus and Y/N.

“Any idea?” Y/N grabbed Atreus and pulled him behind her.  “Just one. Hang on tight!” at the moment, her brother pulled her backwards, and they fell into what felt like a loop, and landed harshly onto the ground. “Lucky escape.” the girl gasped loudly, feeling the pain radiating throughout her back. “Damn, Sindri - You sure know how to plan an exit.” the boy almost started laughing from how close to death they were. “Atreus! Y/N!” as soon as Y/N heard her father’s voice, she shot up and jumped on him. “DADDY!” she cried out, hugging him as tightly as she could. “I missed you so much!” “I am glad you are safe, my child.” he only called her that way when they shared a tender moment, and she felt like a little child once again, in their home in old Sparta, as he cupped her little face with his big, rough hands. “How come you’re here?” Atreus asked, getting up as well. “Sindri told us where you would arrive, should you find trouble.” he explained. “O, daddy, I was really worried about all of you as well.” the girl held onto his hands, kissing the inside of his wrists. “You seem troubled, child. Had anything happened in Asgard?” the girl only smiled wryly. “Daddy... I have done something horrible, and I have no idea how to fix it.” she explained, embracing her father. “Everything can be fixed if we work together.” though he patted her head, she gave him a negative answer. “No, daddy. This, I have to do alone. It is something that only I can do. O, if only mummy was here, she would know what to do.” she sighed, walking towards the door gate towards their dwarven home.

“Wait - Little sister, have you fallen in love?” as soon as Mimir gasped, Atreus gagged loudly. “Urgh, don’t tell me it’s that jerk Heimdall!” he blamed her in the same bratty tone as always. “Heimdall?! No way, little brother - There is NO way any person normal in the head would like that asshole!” Mimir tried to defend to girl - But she shook her head. “The heart works in mysterious ways, Mimir. Not Aphrodite, nor Eros, or even Anteros themselves know truly the way it works. I just hope I can get him on our side. If only he would realise that Odin is just using him as a tool.” Y/N sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. “Little lass, are you mind possessed or something?” Mimir seemed in complete disbelief. “No, brother. I am just a fool. But worry not, for I have my priorities straight. I have killed one person I love. One more will not stop me.” Kratos did not like hearing such words coming from his daughter. Not only was she taking the blame for her mother’s death, but she was also driven deep into her Spartan general teachings, just like he was, long ago. “I trust you to make the right decisions, Y/N.” the father opened the door for them to enter inside the dwarven home.

Everyone was around the table, and were discussing the matter of the mask and Ragnarok... But something was dubious, at least. Since when was Tyr so pro-active, and why was he sitting at the top of the table, and making up plans for everyone. It was... Odd. Kratos made a speech about the price people have to pay when it comes to seeking easy ways to find answers and knowledge. Tyr kept saying they needed to find a way into Asgard, saying that he will get everyone there safe... With a spear. He also called Atreus - Loki.

In that second, Y/N created a spear and threw it at Tyr’s chest - He caught it in his hand though. This only made the girl continue fighting the man. “Odin, show yourself! I know it is you!” Y/N roared at him. “Y/N, please, stop this. We shouldn’t be fighting among ourselves.” the fake Tyr kept trying to speak, but was easily overwhelmed by the girl’s prowess. “I will kill you!” she yelled. “NOBODY calls Atreus - LOKI! Only you! Tyr never used a spear, Odin did! And most of all - You do NOT have a way into Asgard, you just want to steal the mask and kill us all! To think you would make a mockery of the God of War - Shame on you, filthy coward! Shame on you!” Atreus had never heard his sister screaming so sternly - It resembled the way father spoke. Was that what she meant by having a different upbringing back in their own country? “I know your secret, Odin. And I know that you killed half a hundred children, to create the ravens that serve as your spies. You are despicable. You are disgusting. You have NO right impersonating Tyr, you filth!” “DO YOU NEVER SHUT UP?!” Tyr’s voice was now Odin’s, and despite all her training, Odin teleported behind her and stabbed her in the back, before getting her in a choke hold. “Tell your father to throw me the mask, or I kill you.” “I’m a Goddess, you absolute half-wit. Your silly little metal cannot kill me.” she gritted her teeth, feeling the knife twisting between the back of her ribs. “How many lies have you fed Heimdall? I know you went to him only to have him allied to you. But do you think my most loyal ally will be swayed by some pretty face? You are wrong. That idiot would die for me if I tell him to. He may be smart, but he does not think. You cannot have him, wench.” Odin spat at her. “The mask now, if you will.” “I will not allow you to disrespect Heimdall and use him as your marionette! He deserves much better than anything you have to offer, you brutish tyrant!” Y/N yelled at him. “You will never have the strength to overpower me and take away the mask from us!” “I regret many things, but killing you won’t be one of them! Release my daughter at once!” Kratos growled at the man. “I am in control here!” Odin began choking her more “No, you are NOT!” with a war cry, Y/N had activated her Spartan Rage and blasted Odin into the opposite wall, shooting beams of life energy, along with plant vines that grew from the ground, attempting to spear the enemy - But he had long since teleported. “Is the Mask safe?!” she asked, rubbing her back. “That knife actually hurt. Huh.” “Come here, reckless child. Odin might have used poison or curses on the blade.” Freya ran behind the girl and started using her magic on her wound. “The mask is safe... Thank goodness.” Atreus sighed, keeping the mask in his grasp. “You got reckless, Y/N.” Kratos grumbled under his breath. “I have two things that I must do, but I have to know what your plans are. I have been away for far too long, I am out of lapse with your plans.” Y/N stretched a bit. “Mimir, you once told us that Odin can shapeshift into another person and be in two places at once, but that person has to be alive. Tyr is alive, and I know where he is. I just need to find the Ravenkeeper and release the souls of the children that Odin trapped. The prison is somewhere around here.” Y/N explained her plan. “So my stories are finally helping! Good!” Mimir cheered happily. “Secondly... We know Ragnarok is brought by Gjallarhorn being blown. Heimdall still has it. I need to lure him somehow and have a talk to him. If all else fails, I will steal the horn from him and bring it home.” she continued her plan. “We have to save Yngvi and bring him home. He is the only one who can unite the elves from Alfheim and have them fight for us.” Freya spoke. “Sounds good to me. I will go rescue Tyr and go to Vanaheim when I’m done. How does that sound?” Y/N asked, getting in her stoic general mode. “It is far too dangerous to go on your own.” Kratos spoke. “No. It is safer that way. Anyone else would slow me down. You know I work better alone. If anything else goes down, I can just run away. Uncle Hermes had given me the best gift, and I know how to use it.” Y/n winked at the grumbling man. “Little sister, the Ravenkeeper is a terrible foe. Are you sure you will be alright?” Mimir was worried, just as everyone else. “I want Odin dead as much as everyone.” she spoke. “Oh, and... If we encounter Heimdall... I will speak to him alone. Understood?” though some were confused, they had agreed. “Wonderful! I’m off. Bye.” with a lazy sign off, Y/N disappeared before they could even blink. “Then let us go to Vanaheim and rescue Freyr. We need a plan.” Atreus stepped in, and the group set off for the realm soon after.

Through a valiant fight, Y/N was easily able to defeat the Ravenkeeper once she finished tracking down the last two raven spies remaining, and thus, she was able to liberate the children’s souls and even have them work as spies for her party. This allowed her to find the hidden prison where Tyr and some others were kept, and she released them. Now, they were all on their side, wanting revenge on Odin. Though worried of Ragnarok, the inevitable was going to happen.

Y/N sent everyone back at the dwarves’ house, between realms, leaving them to explain plans and what not, while she went in search of the party in Freya’s sacred realm. It didn’t take long to navigate through it, following the obvious tracks of destruction that the retinue left on their way to saving Freyr. By the time she arrived at what looked like an old court, she noticed Kratos and Mimir fighting Heimdall. “ENOUGH!” Y/N yelled, getting in between the fight and pushing them away.  “Ah, yes, Princess Peaceful has arrived. Here to give me more anti-Odin propaganda?” Heimdall laughed tauntingly - He reverted back to his old self. This was exactly why Y/N wanted to speak to him alone. “Y/N, you cannot fight him alone! He is untouchable without this weapon.” but Kratos received a simple signal to shut up and mind his business. “I do not mean to fight you, Heimdall. I just wanted to ask if you knew how Odin created his raven spies.” the girl asked, standing a few steps away, her hands behind her back. “Huh? What the hell kind of question is that?” he had a weird look on his face. “Mummy and daddy/ Tied the noose tight / To send us to Odin / To bask in his light.” Y/N recited the poem she had heard from the ravens.  “Wh-What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Heimdall seemed pretty freaked out. “We tried to escape / We clawed, we screeched / But nothing escapes / The Keeper’s reach.” she continued. “Odin forced families to hang their children and send their souls to him, to serve as spies. They had to watch their children struggle as they slowly suffocated and clawed away at the rope and their own throats, but with no avail.” Y/N explained the All Father’s cruelty. “Well, so what? That has nothing to do with the war. So what if... Children were killed?” though he had his loyalties set, he wasn’t happy about the knowledge of dead children either, and even his voice wavered subtly. “Odin tried to kill me today. Do you know what he told me? Actually - How about you look into my eyes and see for yourself? Or, should I show you a projection of the happenings of today?” she asked, extending her hand and showing what happened at the dwarves’ house, especially the part where Odin slanders the man before her. “Stop trying to pit me against the All Father! Don’t think that just because I let you sleep in my bed, I would drop Odin’s cause!” Heimdall sneered at the girl. “Odin dropped anyone who lost their worth. Do you think he would have kept you around, were it not for your Foresight?” the girl asked. “Remember how he treated you when I and Atreus first arrived in Asgard? He yelled and scolded you. Said you don’t think... Though, I am inclined to agree. You are a smart man, and very witty, yet if you actually thought it over, you would have realised that Odin does not treasure and cherish you as you deserve.” Y/N sighed, but with each step she took towards him, Heimdall took a step back. “Please, my dear, do not run away from me. I do not wish to inflict any harm on you. I wish us not to have to fight.” “Well, I do not care what you wish!” Heimdall yelled at her - Only to blink and find himself being hugged tightly from behind. “What do you think you are doing?! Y/N, let go of me at once!” “I am not holding you prisoner against your will. You can walk away any given time. But I want you to know that what I am feeling for you is genuine. Whether you want to accept or not, it is your choice.” she spoke. “You are loyal to Odin, not to his convictions, yet you fail to see that if Odin wins this war, only he will benefit, everyone else will suffer. All the realms, and even many Aesir. I know you do not care for the well-being of others - They do not care for you either - But do you truly want to see nine realms bowing to one man’s power-hunger?” the girl asked, her hands gripping onto him tighter. “Enough of this, Y/N! I have not come here to chat, I have come here to kill you. Now, if you would be a dear, step aside so I can get on with the killing.” though he tried to pry away her hands from him, he was unable to. “Y/N. Last warning. Step aside. Now.” his voice was more threatening now. “Will fighting me make you feel better? Will it make you see the truth in my words? Will it help you think for yourself?” the girl asked, keeping her grip on him. “No, it will not. I do not believe a word that you say, and since the very beginning, I was convinced that you were trying to drive a rift between my loyalty and the All Father.” he groaned, feeling Y/N step away from him, and getting in front. “So you want to be the first who dies today? Fine. I have had enough patience with you. I let you fool around enough already.” Kratos remembered the speed with which Hermes once taunted him, and saw how both Heimdall and his daughter were dancing around, tripping and threatening each other, stealing hits and kicks here and there, yet neither truly having the intent of harming the other. Mimir, also, was shocked that someone was actually able to outwit the God of Foresight, who was known to be untouchable.  “I allowed you to see into my eyes, to read my mind - Even now, you cannot see the trick. Even now, you cannot see, that I have never lied to you; That I am being genuine. I know it is not easy, going against everything you have ever stood for - But please, see reason. I want only what is the best for you. Truthfully.” she spoke, continuing to trip and side-step him, but not even once trying to hit him. “Stop going easy on me! You think you’re such a great warrior, just because you know how to block me? How stupid of you! Fight me properly!” he yelled at her, only to see her stop dead in her tracks. “I will not.” she spoke defiantly, angering him enough to stomp her way, towering over her menacingly. “FIGHT ME NOW, WOMAN!” he roared at her, anger in his voice for the first time addressed to her. “I WILL NOT FIGHT YOU!” she spoke loud and stern, looking deep into those beautiful, shining purple eyes of his. “WHY?! DO YOU THINK YOU’RE SUPERIOR TO ME?! DO YOU THINK I’M SUCH AN EASY KILL?!” he did not expect that, instead of an answer, the girl would take him by surprise, cupping his face and bringing him into a longing kiss. Not only him, but those watching also, went mind-blank. “Because I do not wish to fight the man I love.” her answer left him flabbergast, and if his head was once filled with tons of thoughts, now, it was empty. “Heimdall, I mean it. I do not want to fight you. I do not wish to harm you. I never did. From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I wanted to get to know you better, to understand you. You are a beautiful man, though severely misunderstood. Please, believe me. You are very dear to me.” the girl leaned in to whisper into his ear. “I fell in love with you, Heimdall.” Heimdall was frozen in place, and unable to think or move. He was trembling. How was he supposed to react to such a bold declaration? How was he supposed to process such a thing? To speak, or even reply? “GAHHHHHH!” with a roaring shout to the skies, he pushed himself from her embrace, and held his head into his hands. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to me? You are ruining EVERYTHING! You think you’re oh, so smart! That you know me so well! That you can understand me! But all you’re trying to do is alienate me! Damn it, and damn you, Y/N!” though he glared at her, one look into her upset, beautiful eyes made him roar even more. In a fit of rage, he took the horn from his hip and threw it to the ground. “HERE! THERE YOU HAVE IT! GO AHEAD AND CALL FOR RAGNAROK! ISN’T THAT ALL YOU EVER WANTED FROM ME ANYWAY?!” “No.” her voice was firm and deadpan, making the blond freeze. “I wanted you, Heimdall - And I wanted you safe, most of all. Please, believe me.” Heimdall turned his back at her, walking away, without another word of protest. “When Ragnarok comes, I hope you will stay safe. I want to find you alive when it is over.”

The Aesir growled under his breath as he disappeared from sight. The fact that he did not read a single lie from her speech made him feel even more conflicted than before. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just abandon Odin, could he? But he also did not want Y/N to die. To hell with everybody else, especially Loki of the Jotnar - Oh, how done with everything he was. 

Once he returned, however, he could not believe how he was ostracized by the All Father. He accused him of siding with the enemy, and aiding them, with giving them the Gjallarhorn. In his rage, the All Father banished Heimdall away from his own beautiful home in Asgard. How dare he? After everything he has done - All his life of servitude, only for him - Now, he is banished? 

Heimdall had never felt more confused and betrayed in his long life. Where was he supposed to go now? He was a pariah, in he middle of a starting war brewing at the seams. He wasn’t going to hide away in fear - He was a warrior, and will act that way. If Odin does not want him, then Y/N will take him. Right?

For a whole day, he spent sitting down on top of a mountain, away from Odin’s quarters - The landscape was breath-taking from this mountain, just the same. The sky was azure, and the clouds were fluffy and shaped in intricate ways - Surely, that little Greek idiot would lay down and point out what cloud was shaped as a bunny or deer.

No matter what he did, Heimdall’s mind went to Y/N. Was she his redemption? His second chance? He was a fantastic strategist, he had intellect and prowess like no other, and his Foresight was the tip of the scales in any way - Would his worth be appreciated, and his sins forgotten, once he attempts to go to her side?

Afternoon went by quickly, and the Sun disappeared, letting way for the stars and the moon to twinkle silver; The array of purples, orange and red were replaced by the vivid lights of the Aurora, and the dance of the animals’ souls. His eyes were glues to the lights, and he sighed, feeling his heart clenching in pain. His mind was flashing with images of Y/N smiling at him so sincerely, or that enchanted look she had, seeing the lovely sights of Asgard.

She truly was a wonderful woman, and her genuine love and compassion brought about his own redemption... His cure.  He, also, fell in love with this mysterious girl... He was truly, undeniably in love with Y/N.

Once the sun rays brought him back to the reality of morning, he heard the sound of Ragnarok being called, he knew where he had to go. He knew where he was needed. Heimdall had arrived just when the time called for action, to catch Y/N after she had been hit away by Thor’s hammer. The man held her up in his arms bridal style, smirking cockily down at her. “What a damsel in distress you have become, Y/N. I almost couldn’t recognise you.” the man laughed at her. “Heimdall, you are safe...! I am so happy to see you well!” the relief and glee on her face as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him all over his face so adorably made it worth while. Heimdall now realised that all the centuries of indoctrination meant nothing compared to one person’s genuine feelings. He was where he belonged. He was home. “Yes, sweet cheeks, I am safe and very fine. You know very well there is no one who can touch me. Now, how about we get that half-breed brother of mine the treatment he deserves before we beat Odin to death and give him the Blood Eagle treatment - And before he dies, we strangle him, just like he did with those kids?” that wicked grin of his only made the girl bring him in another kiss. “I love the sound of that!”

With Odin killing Thor and the party killing Odin; Tyr, and Atreus’s Jotnar friend Angrboda were able to save everyone and teleport them to safety. Since then, with peace throughout the nine realms, Freya was able to save and govern Vanaheim, while Freyr was to keep the peace up in Alfheim. Brok, Sindri and Lunda helped Durlin with rebuilding Svartalfheim, Thrud and Sif were helping around Asgard, Skjoldr was the spokesperson in Midgard and Atreus and Angrboda went to travel the realms whilst Tyr went to find his peace.

Kratos rebuilt his old home and would often roast food outside by the fire, Mimir on the log next to him, watching his daughter laughing and singing merrily, dressed in her old Greek dress, dancing with the once insufferable God of Foresight, who was twirling her around, and planting kisses all over her face, almost as if to tick her father off on purpose.

“How the hell did a jerk like him get a fine lass like her to fall for him?! Brother, I cannot understand!” Mimir would groan, watching with annoyance as the two were dancing so perfectly in sync, and their voices were harmonizing so well. The old goat noticed, however, how Heimdall would watch them from the corner of his eyes, riling them up. “That - That lowly cur! How DARE he mock us?! Brother, say something!” poor Mimir was so offended. “I do not know, but I do not like it.” Kratos grumbled under his breath. “Her mother would have understood better than me.” he continued, watching the two kissing again, with more love and passion than before.  “Aye, brother. Time for a premature sleep today. No time for lil’ old us anymore.” Mimir spoke as Kratos lifted him, and entered the house, giving the two some privacy. “Finally! No more parent supervision. Your two old men sure are annoying.” Heimdall chuckled, pulling her flush against his chest. “That just means we have to find a new realm and have our fun there.” she spoke, raking her fingers through his platinated unbraided hair. “You should leave your hair down more often. You look so beautiful.” her sweet smile made her lover chuckle lightly, before he cupped her face and brought her into yet another sweet kiss. “And you should wear dresses like this one more often. You are beautiful.”

[boynarcing]

too spacious when you’re lonely

leon s. kennedy x male!reader

word count. 5.3k

cws. incest, stepbrother leon, pee, reader w bad bladder issues lol, crude language, handjobs, humping, OOC leon (duh), boring mid sexual encounter cause it’s leon, crude language

note. this is my first fic including dark(?) content so it’s wonky and mid and the overall flow of it is boring but whatever I tried my best. It’s not necessarily dark it’s just weird and icky and me just rambling lol :3 also the pee part comes out of nowhere sorry LMAO like ur just flashed

Leon Kennedy has always been the type to lead girls on, whether it be for one thing or another, he just didn’t care. Everything was a one-time thing to him. That hook-up last week, that promise he made to a buddy, that girl he had accidentally gotten pregnant… it all went in one ear and out the other.

He was a massive asshole, that much was clear to anyone with basic comprehension levels. But no one gave a fuck, because as long as you’re hot enough you’re given a free pass to do whatever you want. He knew that he was hot, yeah, but that’s like, normal. He’s only ever been surrounded by hot people his entire life. Why would he want to willingly hang out with someone who isn’t? That’s weird. No hot person does that unless they want something from you. Or they feel bad, which is probably worse.

Leon doesn’t hang out with you at all. He’s your stepbrother, so one would think he’d at least spare you a glance or a nod, right? No, no, not at all. You’re a fleeting thought to him. An “oh yeah, I forgot” type of topic. And that’s fine. It’s not like you’re the most socially indulgent type of person in the world. You’re not anything interesting. That’s why you’re not worth bullying either. Not worth some abrupt pantsing or name-calling— whatever big brothers are supposed to do with their younger siblings. Nada.

That kind of irks you. Kind of. Leon goes out of his way to make anyone he hangs out with miserable by just being himself, yet he avoids you like the plague.

It’s not purposeful, ‘cause he couldn’t care less about you— and that’s what grinds your gears.

Your mom marries some random cop who just so happens to have a kid your age, and now what? Aren’t you supposed to be a part of some picture-perfect family now? Because that’s not what it feels like. It just feels odd. You have to go downstairs for breakfast and dinner now, have a movie night every Friday, and whatever other cheesy nonsense your mom deems necessary. Where was all of that before? It’s annoying to think about. You don’t want to get all buddy-buddy with people you don’t even know or could care less about.

They probably feel the same way about you, which, whatever. The feeling is mutual. There’s just something about Leon in particular that gets on your nerves the most.

It’s just everything about him. His stupid blue eyes, his stupid side-swept hair, and his especially stupid smile. You’d punch his nose back into place if you could. Everyone else adores him. They practically kiss his ass and pucker up their lips to give him a nice rimming. It’s disgusting.

It’s a no-brainer that you’re jealous. Yeah, and what of it? It’s not like you want people to start looking at you as if you shit gold or something, but would it kill someone to notice you every once in a while? What’s Leon got that you don’t? Who’s dick is he sucking to get this many people tailing after him like lost puppies? And where can you meet them? All this who, what, why questioning is starting to hurt your brain, that’s all you know.

It’s hot in your room, and the ceiling fan’s low speed only manages to thrust more warm air towards you. The useless thing never works the way it’s supposed to. Restless, you sit up in your bed, running a hand through your mussed-up hair with an anxious sigh.

The sound of lively chatting and dishes clattering downstairs makes your ears perk, straining to hear what is going on. Something, something about your mom leaving for work soon, something else about your stepdad needing to fix the A/C… you lose interest and stop listening, eyes darting over to the alarm clock beside your bed, messily decorated with stickers and other knick-knacks.

9:04 AM.

It’s a Wednesday, which means both of your parents will be busy. Normally, you’d enjoy a day to yourself, but not this one. Wednesdays, if you’re unlucky, Leon will stay home to invite his friends over, the cute ones that have no personality or self-respect. If you’re lucky, he’ll bring home the ditzy blonde girl and Spanish-speaking man. They’re cute.

Leon definitely fucks the blonde. You’ve seen her press her chest up against his arm and sputter out nonsense as an excuse to get close.

You can’t help but frown at the memory. She’s cute as fuck, and he just sits there like an idiot, nodding along to whatever she was saying, a distant look in his eyes as if he were thinking about something else. What else does he have to think about other than the tits being offered to him on a silver platter? Dick?

Your mom calls out your name, startling you out of your foul mood.

“Come have breakfast!” She says, sounding like she was in the middle of something else way more important than you. You’re grown, you don’t need the reminder— or the attention. Maybe.

You don’t bother changing into something else, simply swiping some invisible lint off of your shirt and pushing back some hair from your face before heading downstairs, the old wood creaking under your weight.

You take the last step down, and Instantly, you’re hit with the smell of bacon and pancakes. Your mouth waters, stomach rumbling. Glancing around, you see your mom walking out the front door, keys in hand. No stepdad, and no Leon either. Either he already ate or he’s still asleep, neither of which you can bother to care about right now. Taking your seat in your respective chair, you began to eat your fill.

A mix of pancakes, strawberries, and bacon are all shoveled into your mouth, fork occasionally scratching against the porcelain of your plate and making you wince. Your mom makes good food. It makes up for all the other stuff she lacks, at least. It’s not like she has to make something good to get you to eat though. Caught up in getting your belly full, you miss the familiar creaking of wood coming downstairs.

“It’s early in the morning and you’re already stuffing your face.”

You feel your heart lurch, the pancakes passing down your throat almost getting stuck. Coughing, you wipe at your mouth with the corner of your sleeve, glaring over at your stepbrother, who isn’t even looking at you. Leon was rummaging through the fridge, snaking his hand in between some condiments to grab a protein shake. The same one his dad takes.

Oh, so he’s talking to you now? Is what’s snarked out in your head, but anxiety makes you flounder, wondering if he was speaking to you or not. Awkwardly, you slow down your movements, fork stabbing into the pancakes you were eating, now soggy with syrup. Eyes dashing up to steal a glance, you almost die right then and there when you accidentally make eye contact, meekly pushing your plate away and standing up to leave.

“What? Don’t want to eat with me or something?” Leon’s sarcastic tone stops you in your tracks, the mere attention making your heart rabbit against your chest— and not in a good way. Shit, man. What do you even say in a situation like this? What do you say at all? It’s not a big deal to most, but it is to you. It’s not like Leon talks to you every day, after all.

You open your mouth to speak, lips dry and tongue heavy.

“I’m just kidding.” He mutters, arm flexing as he rapidly shakes his protein shake, uncapping the drink before taking a swing.

Your words die out immediately, left gaping like a fish out of water. Just kidding? So he didn’t want to talk to you at all? You don’t know if you’re relieved or miserable, but your chest hurts, as if the mere situation has taken years off your lifespan. Gasping quietly, you nod, bunching your sweaty hands up into fists, as if the action would ground you.

“O—oh..‘kay, yeah…” You lick your lips, eyes on the floor beneath your feet. “I mean, would you want me to…?” Trailing off, heat rises to your cheeks, a feeling of inadequacy making you tremble lightly. Oh my god, you’re pathetic. You’re not hurt exactly, but something about him being able to shrug you off so easily like that stings. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but in the worst possible way.

Leon turns his head a little to look at you, his eyebrows pinching. He looks… concerned? No, that’s pity, you think. He’s pitying you, probably thinking about how unfortunate it is that you’re his weird little brother with no friends and social ineptitude. He probably thinks that you want to hang out with him too. You’d rather die, but you felt bad. That’s the only reason you even spoke in the first place. Honest.

“I mean,” you repeat helplessly, feeling as though you were digging yourself into a deeper hole. But your mouth kept running, seemingly out of your control. “I j-just thought that—“

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…?” Leon cuts you off, looking back at the food set out on the table, most of it gone now. The sentence sounded forced, like he felt like he had to say it. Not that he needed to. He doesn’t wait for you, sitting down on a chair and serving himself some of the remaining food, occasionally giving you looks. Ones you couldn’t pinpoint the emotion behind. That’s scary. This is scary.

“You… okay?” Leon asks reluctantly. He’d rather be focused on something else right now, like who texted what and whatever, but he has to play the big brother role, right? His attempt at expressing care is lackluster, but at least it’s something. He has to care, but it’s not necessarily a want. If you didn’t look like you were about to shit yourself right now, he’d probably be less attentive, but you’re stuck in place and trembling like a sickly dog, and he’s a little concerned. Just a little.

He doesn’t want to get blamed by your parents for something that happened to you, or anything else like that.

You don’t answer him, and he gets a little creeped out. You don’t blame him, considering how fucking weird you’re being. Anyone, anyone at all talks to you, and you freak out like a girl wearing white on her period. Stomach churning, adrenaline makes you feel like you’re falling, the blood draining from your skin making you look as sickly as you felt. Leon’s worried now, considering the odd look he gives you, any thought of food currently abandoned.

He’s looking at you as if you were covered in blood or something, like Carrie at prom. He raises his brows and his eyes widen, jerking back a little as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What was he seeing? Are you really that freakish or something? What’s up with his face?

A sudden splatter of liquid against the wooden floors makes you look down, gasping at the sight you’re greeted with.

Pee.

You’re fucking pissing yourself.

Hands clutching at your crotch, you sputter, mortified and embarrassed, tears welling in your eyes. “O—oh! Oh my god, uhm, I- I didn’t mean to…” More liquid gushes. Your bladder has completely lost control of itself in response to your failure at trying to act like a proper human being. You wince at the loud sound, Leon doing the same. He just stares, and you just stare. You both stare at the growing puddle, at the mess, at your ruined pants— at you.

It’s all overwhelming, enough to make you burst into tears. Which you do. Fat, salty drops run down your cheeks, and you resort to the only thing you know how to do in a situation like this. Apologize like a fucking loser.

“I- I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean… fuck..! Sorry, I’m sorry!”

Leon doesn’t know what to say, really. Does he laugh? Make a face? Offer to help?

He cringes instead, raising a hand to try and stop your babbling. “It’s okay, It’s okay…” He speaks quietly as if trying to console a frantic animal. “Just— just don’t move, you’re… ugh…” He hasn’t even gotten up from his seat yet, but he does now, slowly rising and forgetting about breakfast. That always seems to happen to him somehow.

“Are you done?…” He asks, unsure if he should approach or not, his body tense with confusion. “I mean, with-“

“Yes! Yes,” You sniffle, dreading your existence. You pray to anyone, anything, to just kill you right now. To strike you down. “I— I’m done… I think… don’t look please…”

“It’s all over the floor…” Leon mumbles. Way to point out the obvious. Yes, you know it’s all over on the floor. You know it’ll seep through if you don’t clean it soon. But that’s the last thing on your mind right now. Your stepbrother just watched you piss yourself out of pure gut-wrenching anxiety. How have you not killed yourself yet? Maybe it’s the nerves, the fear of someone else walking in on you in this compromising situation and making a mockery of it. You could see the social media posts now.

‘Some yellow-bellied boy pissed himself because he’s too afraid to make conversation with someone supposed to be a part of his family’.

“I-” You choke, the dryness of your throat making you swallow thickly. “Can you h-help me?” You manage to get out the words, swallowing again. A tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a hot trail of moisture on your already-heated flesh. God, please say yes. You don’t think you could take any more embarrassing exchanges today– much less a rejection. Leon’s eyes flicker from the puddle of urine to the streaks of it running down your pant legs and back, over and over. It’s the one time you wish he could look at your face instead.

“Leon,” You plead, wiping your tears away messily.

“Right, right,” Leon inhales deeply, exhaling slowly to get a grasp of the situation. “yeah.”

He coughs into the sleeve of his letterman, “Can you walk to the bathroom?”

You fluster, brows furrowing.

“Of course I can,” You frown, sniffling. He’s treating you as if you’re mentally challenged, annoyance starting to swell in your chest.

Leon raises a brow, a silent question in his expression. “So do it then?” it says.

After some brief hesitation, you turn and fumble towards the bathroom, grimacing at the uncomfortable feel of your wet pants, the fabric rubbing against your skin nastily and making you feel itchy. You can hear Leon opening and closing some doors behind you, likely peering into the cleaning closet in an attempt to find something to clean the mess you left behind with. Hopefully he doesn’t use bleach, that doesn’t smell well when mixed with pee.

With shaky fingers, you flip the light switch up, illuminating the room in an instant. It smells nice in here ‘cause mom keeps it clean, who uses all sorts of chemicals and powders strong enough to knock anyone out. A whiff of urine makes your face screw up almost immediately though.

With a grunt, you pull your pants down clumsily, the material sliding down your legs with a wet noise after some effort and landing on the floor with a heavy plap. Hopefully the pee washes out. Those were your favorite pants. You follow up by removing your undies, letting them fall carelessly onto the floor beside your pants. Now you’re naked from the waist down, skin prickling with goosebumps. You really need a shower, like, right now.

“Hey,” Leon’s voice comes from behind, startling you. “I finished cleaning the… pee…” He trails off, eyes on your bare ass. For a moment, he stares, eyes eventually rising to your face— only to come down to your ass again. And again, face then ass. Mostly ass.

“Dude!” Your voice wavers, embarrassed. You turn your body to hide, but end up giving him a full view of your front too. “Get out!”

Leon keeps his eyes on you, slowly shutting the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

“I thought you wanted me to help you?” He says casually, his demeanor incomprehensible to you. He looks down at the discarded clothes on the floor, clicking his tongue and wrinkling his nose. “That’s… nasty.”

You stammer, words lost on you. Leon doesn’t wait for you to use your brain, moving forward, making you feel the need to step back.

“You know, most big brothers wouldn’t help their little brothers at all. Especially for situations like this.” He says quietly, eyes intently on your face now, making you squirm. Your hands clutch together at your front, feebly hiding your penis from view.

“S-so? What’s your point?” You glowered at him suspiciously, trembling with a mix of anxiety and confusion. You can’t help it. You’ve never gone this long talking to someone. It feels weird, but mostly dreadful. Stumbling over your words like a toddler is embarrassing, but they flow out faster than your thoughts can form.

Doesn’t help that your ass is bared too.

“My point is,” Leon rolled his eyes subtly, “you owe me.”

You squint your eyes. What?

“What? Owe you?”

“Owe me.” Leon confirmed with a nod.

Clearing your throat dryly, you lick your lips nervously.

“Okay,” Deep breaths, now, “owe you wh-what, exactly?”

Leon pauses, eyes glancing away for a moment before returning to yours.

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “That’s for me to worry about.”

Another pang of annoyance hits you, but this time it’s mixed with worry, making your chest tighten.

“Well then, are you going to help me or not?” You scowl. It’s unreasonably cold in the bathroom, the lack of warmth making you feel out of place. It feels like you’re talking to a stranger, and technically you are. Still, the only reason you can’t seem to figure anything out about Leon over a shallow level is because he’s annoyingly boring. Stupidly enigmatic; not in a cool way. Yeah, he’s popular in his little group of friends and what not, but that’s all he has going for him. He’s not interesting in the slightest.

Leon’s quiet for a moment, before vaguely gesturing to your top with a hand.

“Go on, get naked.”

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes.

“You know what I meant,” Leon counters, rolling his eyes openly now. “You act like I wanna gawk at you or something,” He scoffs, “what’s there to look at, huh?”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, simply grumbling under your breath, hands moving to take your top off.

You throw the shirt down onto the pile of dirty clothes bunched together on the floor, eyes briefly lingering on the graphic design plastered on the front of it. Naked now, you turn and fumble with the shower curtain, pulling it back.

Leon approaches as you step in, reaching for the soap inside the shower caddy.

“What are you doing?” You chew on your bottom lip, tired of asking questions but unable to help the gnawing anxiety strumming through your ribs.

“Helping.” Leon simply states, taking off his jacket and hanging it beside the fresh towels. His biceps flex with every movement he makes, the muscles in his arms well-sculpted. The sight makes you frown, but you have no one but yourself to blame for not having a good physique.

You don’t question further; you don’t want to. All of the previous adrenaline has washed down, leaving exhaustion in its wake. With a quiet hum, you turn on the water, wincing at the cold spray that hits you.

Cursing under your breath, you mess around with the handles until you have a decent temperature, sighing in relief. Despite the uncomfortableness of being thrust into all of this, Leon seems to be taking it well, and that concerns you. What if he’s plotting something? What if you’re put in a stockade tomorrow for people to throw tomatoes at and sodomize?

Well, whatever. He probably has his embarrassing reasons. Any consequences are a problem for future you.

Cold hands make contact with your back, making you squirm. Despite the roughness of his skin, Leon is surprisingly gentle with you, the rough material of a washing rag delicately rubbing against your shoulders making you shiver. The soap smells good, at least. Like pine and some other fresh scent you couldn’t depict. Maybe it’s Irish.

Many thoughts run through your mind, most of them nonsensical and humiliating. Here you are, awkwardly standing still like a loser while your stepbrother helps wash you as if you were a vegetable. The way he touches you is oddly intimate. His hands brush against sensitive spots every few minutes or so, making you shudder.

But it feels nice, you suppose.

It’s nice to feel clean and not be covered with piss.

You close your eyes, tense muscles starting to relax. Leon notices, his hands now lathering shampoo in your hair.

“…you’re a weird one, you know?” He mutters.

You only hum. Yeah, so? He’s weird too. He’s weird for actually helping you out and cleaning your piss puddle off of the floor. And for… whatever this is. It’s definitely not a normal stepbrother activity, that you know. It feels kind of dirty, but the contact feels nice. Nice enough to make you almost melt into the touch. He doesn’t have the right to call you weird, but neither do you.

A hand splays on your chest, lightly squeezing one of your pecs.

Jolting, your eyes snap open. Inching away from the touch, you frown.

“I’m not a girl, pervert.”

“Could have fooled me.” Leon snarked bluntly, squeezing once more. This time he did it apprehensively, as if unsure of what he was doing.

At least he has the decency to properly clean you, thorough in where he reaches. He passes the rag all over your body, down your chest and in between your legs.

A weird flutter settles in your chest, pooling down to your belly. It’s not a special one or anything, it just feels weird. Not bad, not good. Just different. Letting out a shuddered breath, you grumble.

“Just help me to my room already.”

And Leon does. He rinses the suds off of you and drains the water, halfheartedly wrapping a towel around your frame before assisting you out of the shower. He half leads half carries (but mostly carries) you to your room, his body flush against yours, occasionally bumping into you. Something hard pokes at your butt, and you know what it is, but you don’t say anything. Your increase in heart rate does though.

Leon makes you feel small, you figured. He’s not mean to you or demanding, but something about his attentive behavior makes you bashful. It unfortunately makes you want more. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. Maybe mom and dad didn’t love you like you wanted them to. Leon doesn’t either, but this is fine. Any attention is good attention, as long as you can handle it without pissing yourself.

You’re pathetic for that, you know. You’re no bark and no bite, the worst of both worlds.

A towel ruffles your hair, interrupting your thoughts. Face scrunching up, you huff, withstanding the process as best as you could.

“Cold?” Leon asks gruffly, wrapping the towel he was using on your hair around your shoulders, accompanying the other one. It’s wet, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“Yeah,” You mumble, feeling shy. You’re trying your best to stay strong and confident, but the more the spotlight rests on you, the more vulnerable you feel.

Staring down at your lap, you fiddle with the towels surrounding you, trying not to pay attention to the weight of the spot beside you sagging, Leon’s body warm against your side. It’s odd, you think. His body is warm, but his hands are always cold.

He scoots closer, pausing for a moment when he’s flush against you, hesitating.

The tip of his nose presses against the top of your head, inhaling deeply. You shudder, but don’t move. Leon wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you both back into the bed.

“Smells nice,” He sighs, nosing the crook of your neck. The towels around you loosen their grasp, threatening to expose you completely. He doesn’t seem keen on releasing you any time soon, his movements slow but purposeful, curious. “Better than the pee smell.”

A soft noise escapes you, squirming slightly. “What’s up with you?…” You ask quietly, embarrassed. You know, yeah. He’s hard against your hip, pressing his crotch into you. Has he been hard the entire time? You wouldn’t know that, it’s not like you stare at his crotch 24/7. You know he’s hard right now, but you don’t know why.

“Dunno,” He says, holding you tightly against his chest, face pressing into your throat, “just like how you looked.”

You hum confusedly, an imploring look on your face.

“You know,” He groans, “the stupid look on your face. The one that looks like you got scared shitless. Like when you pissed yourself.”

That doesn’t make any sense, but okay. You don’t question his psyche.

You loll your head back, letting out a small breath. Like a fish on a hook, Leon’s reeled in immediately, his lips planting against the exposed flesh of your neck. He doesn’t kiss though, not yet. He rubs his face against you, like a cat claiming territory or a dog showing affection.

His hand finds your chest, squeezing just like he did at the shower. It makes you furrow your brows in displeasure, chewing on your bottom lip. “Don’t— that’s…” you grunt, “that’s for girls.”

“Feels like a girl’s tits to me,” Leon huffed snidely, ignoring your words and squeezing again. His fingers pinch your nipple lightly, toying with the bud.

His other hand snakes down your body, splaying out over your tummy. “Are all boys this soft?” He hums against your Adam's apple, finally using his lips to kiss at the spot. You mewl, slightly disoriented.

“No…” You close your eyes, “I don’t know… don’t you?”

“I’m not gay.”

You roll your eyes at that, pushing back against the mattress to get comfy.

“Me neither.”

The hand on your tummy trails down, fingers teasing your pubic region. You grunt, thighs spreading a little, a silent invitation. Your heart is pounding against your chest and your skin feels clammy, but this is the most attention you’ve had in days that isn’t coming from yourself.

Sighing heavily, you push your chest into the hand playing with it, feeling impatient.

“Leon…” You sigh again, agitation behind it.

Leon gives in, cupping your cock and balls in his free hand in one go, squeezing gently. He feels you up for a hot minute, grabbing you in his fist and starting to rub the length slowly.

You buck your hips slightly, moaning. The dual stimulation makes you feel all tingly, brain fuzzy with pleasant static. It’s nice enough to make you forget a thing or two, but Leon is being annoyingly slow. Not that you’d vocally complain.

He keeps his face buried in your neck, occasionally pecking at your skin or licking a sensitive spot. The heat of his breath against your already warm flesh makes you sweat. Uncomfortable, you tilt your head to the side.

Leon decides he can’t multitask, removing the hand on your chest to instead use it to tilt your head back to face him, his lips leaving your neck to kiss you on the corner of your mouth.

He pecks and kisses wantonly, but it’s nothing special. You move your mouth to his deliberately, pressing further for a deeper kiss. Leon’s a bit put off by the action, but he follows your lead, soon taking over by slotting his tongue into your mouth, slipping it through your parted lips.

Eyes drooping, you sigh into his mouth, suckling on the wet muscle lazily. Squeezing your thighs together subconsciously, you shudder at the amount of precum that has oozed from your tip to your balls, inner thighs sticky and wet. All this rubbing and squeezing is doing nothing for you, so you whine into Leon’s mouth.

He squeezes your dick in response, making you buck your hips again. But it’s not enough. Too little, too slow.

Panting, you pull back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Leon—“

His lips come crashing down into yours again, silencing you. Only making a soft noise of complaint, you go back to suckling on his tongue, pacified. Some part of you wonders if that’s how he jerks off his own cock. It would explain a lot, somehow.

Despite the slow pace, the squeezing and rubbing is a surprisingly nice change from the usual fast pumping you tend to do. It’s not much, but the more Leon does it, the more each squeeze is accompanied by a surge of pleasure, an exciting buzz settling in your tummy.

You start panting, whimpering softly now. Leon catches onto your oncoming orgasm pretty quickly, increasing the pressure in some of the contact while continuing to lick into your mouth all nastily. It’s sloppy and gross, the way you exchange saliva and spit with a man supposed to be your stepbrother. You couldn’t imagine anyone else doing this with you, though.

The lack of oxygen makes you dizzy, but that’s a nice addition to the flurry of sensations strumming through you right now. Moaning, you wrap your arms around Leon, clinging onto him tightly.

He bumps and grinds his cock against your hip, precum staining the front of his pants. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush to fuck you though, content with dry humping your leg like a sniveling chihuahua.

Another squeeze on your cock and the coil snaps without warning, leaving you gasping and moaning into Leon’s mouth while cum spurts out your slit in ropes, each one landing on your tummy.

Leon groans, his lips pressing against yours hard enough to bruise, his hips stuttering against your leg. He humps the last of his own orgasm into you, shuddering as cum seeps through his underwear and onto your skin, the fluid sticky and warm.

Parting from the kiss, you mewl, eyes glazed over with ecstasy and body trembling with delight. For once, the silence with another person is enjoyable, and you couldn’t care less about anything else that has happened today. At least, not at the moment.

You dread the moment you’ll have to talk about what you just did, but right now you’re content. Glancing over at Leon, you worry a little, hoping he didn’t just wanna pump one and dump you to the side. You expected it, but that didn’t particularly mean you wanted it to happen.

He turns his head to look at you, and you frown a little, anxious as to what the expression on his face could mean. He looks like he doesn’t like anything all the time, and it’s stressful.

The look in his eyes is complicated, but you don’t have time to contemplate it. He ducks his head and steals another kiss from you, nipping your bottom lip lightly. You could jump for joy.

“Remember,” He mumbles against your lips, “you still owe me.”

You blink. You would’ve thought that this was what Leon wanted to get from you, but maybe you were wrong. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“I thought this was?…” You ask confusedly, trailing off.

“Nah,” Leon hums. “this was…” he thinks for a moment, “a tester. Y’know, like tryouts.”

“For what?” You squint, licking your lips and tasting the slight metallic tang from the nip.

Leon shrugs. He’s unsure of what he really wants here— with you, that is. He doesn’t want to think about it, not when all he wants to do is rest in post-orgasmic haze.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asks instead, eyes examining your face, trying to get a read of your expression.

You think for a moment, before mirroring his shrug.

“No, not really.”

[syndrossi]

I was going to leave this as a comment on the ask you just answered, but it was getting too long, so, new ask it is: As amazing as Jon and Rhaegar being twins is, there have been many ideas/thoughts on how to squish Dany into a Resonant AU just for fun. Do you have any you especially enjoyed thinking about or think are plausible? Her being their eight-year-old reborn triplet would obviously be fun. I do think her being from yet another universe where she hasn't met Jon yet makes the most sense, so that all three of them are on sort of an even playing field coming into their new circumstances. (Maybe even one where she hasn't hatched dragons yet, that way when she gets a dragon egg with Jon and Rhaegar, it's just as exciting for her as it is for them? Or a verse where she never meets Jon at all, and instead saved the world with Aegon/Young Griff and/or Rhaenys?) I like the idea of her being reborn into the younger!version of Nettles too, thus being their little sister instead of their triplet. I feel like the dynamic shift with a very pretty and Valyrian-in-appearance yet natural born little sister could get real fun and interesting in the Red Keep very quickly, especially since they really do need more girls in this family... All that said, I think my absolute favorite idea for Dany that has been suggested so far is probably the one with her showing up unexpectedly in an au of Reverberate AU where Daemon is shocked at receiving three babies instead of two. 😂 If you DO write a drabble with her in it, I'd vote for this one. I can just see Daemon's shocked pikachu face at being handed THREE babies when he was expecting two...

I think the Resonant set-up but with triplets is the most popular suggestion, but also the least plausible to me. A triplet live birth is so exceedingly rare that people are going to talk about it, and I feel like word would reach Daemon eventually and he'd put two-and-two together. Plus, they'd be an attraction any time someone visited the Gates of the Moon, and TWO Targaryen colored children out of three is going to be nigh impossible to keep under wraps.

So an "early Nettles" relationship (if you ascribe to the theory that Nettles his bastard) would work better for sure. Perhaps he has a dalliance with another lady in Rhea's court before Elys arrives, or perhaps it's with *gasp* a commoner, so she is baseborn. I think it's easier to "hide" a bastard if the mother is a commoner, but a noble lady would have SOME means at least. Perhaps Rhea learns of it as well and "handles" the matter, fuming, to further clean up Daemon's messes so as not to deal with the political inconvenience of her husband's outright infidelity.

So here, Dany would be slightly older than the twins, physically, but they'd be near enough in age to be basically triplets. Maybe on Rhea's deathbed, she's like "by the way, asshole, you have ANOTHER illeg--erm, I mean you have an ACTUAL bastard child living in Gulltown."

As you said, it's an interesting scenario because a) you have the tension of Viserys wanting a proper legitimate princess so he'll have to legitimize her (even if she's *le gasp* baseborn!), and b) the bastard-by-association fears with Dany and the Velaryon boys. And Jon and Rhaegar of course ready to spring to her defense for anyone who dares try to confront her about her bastard roots.

My preferred "which Dany makes the jump" is also a 14-16-year-old version. I think it's cleaner if she isn't the mother of dragons yet, as that's a rough (and complicated) set of bonds to have broken, and she gets to share in Rhaegar's wonder. Plus Jon gets to be double the big brother! Though in terms of maturity, a 16-year-old Dany who hasn't yet gone back to Westeros and has been struggling with the politics of Essos is also a fun midpoint between 14-year-old Rhaegar and 19-year-old Jon. She would feel more like the Dany people are familiar with than her very innocent/naive fourteen-year-old self.

I'm with you where my personal favorite would just be Daemon, all confident in his prediction of twins to the point of commissioning a double-sized twin-dragon-head cradle, getting flummoxed by triplets and spending the next three years terrified of something happening to Dany. (Once she survives their first year, his suspicion probably falls upon the Spring Fever that killed Elys.)

It's probably the least satisfying for people who want to read Dany-with-the-boys, since I'm betting they want the payoff of them being able to converse and seem more like their canon equivalents, vs the much more blended outcome you get in Reverberate, where the boys (and Dany) act somewhat more like their physical age, especially early on.

I'm definitely far more likely to write something along these lines in a oneshot, since the character relationships/dynamics get exponentially more complex whenever you add a new one to it. With the original Resonant trio, there are four main dynamics to follow: Jon+Daemon, Jon+Rhaegar, Rhaegar+Daemon, Jon+Daemon+Rhaegar. With Dany, on top of those four, we now also have Jon+Dany, Daemon+Dany, Rhaegar+Dany, Jon+Dany+Rhaegar, Jon+Dany+Daemon, Rhaegar+Dany+Daemon, and Jon+Dany+Rhaegar+Daemon, aka SEVEN more. It's not so bad in a oneshot, where you don't have to cover the development of all of those--it's generally just a snapshot of their relationship at a certain point in time.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

March 7th

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1. There's been many fics where wwx takes his revenge, or fights for himself and his place and there are people to support him in it. ITMF fics where someone takes revenge for wwx / fights for wwx. Showing a lover love for him / brother or sister's love for him / mother's or parental figure's love for him.

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

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2. ITMF:

A) War general wwx and/or lwj

B) W ar veterans wwx and/or lwj

2A)

the wei to the kingdom (is through the prince's heart) by Bird_of_Dreams (T, 4k, wangxian, Historical AU, royal family, Tournaments, Mutual Pining, WWX levels of obliviousness) features WY as a general but the war is over and doesn't feature in the story

🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending) both generals fighting in a war

The Silver Thread General by Itszero (E, 70k, wangxian, Imperial China, No Powers, General WWX, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Age Difference, Bottom LWJ, Forced Marriage, Protective WWX, POV LWJ, Childhood Friends, WWX is a Wēn, He was raised by them, WangXian Centric) wwx is a general but this isn't a fighting in war story

rebuttable presumption by sarah-yyy (WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Hurt LWJ, Enemies to Lovers)

2B)

Recovery by Unforth (G, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Rabbit Breeder LWJ, Veteran LWJ, Veteran WWX, PTSD, therapy animals, Therapy Rabbits, LWJ is an Asshole Sometimes, Doctor WQ, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Former Prisoner of War WWX, LXC is a Good Brother, Gray Asexual LWJ, Anxiety Disorder)

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3. A) Hello, I'm looking for wwx centric and xz centric (this part in a YZ post ~Mod L) fics. Anything that has them as the main focus works. I'd prefer if their relationship with someone else is not main focus of the fic, rather, it's more about them as an individual???

B) Any fics where wwx leaves/runs away after everything instead of dying. Just want to see him making a life on his own, discovering himself, healing, etc. Modern aus are fine too.

Have a good day! @kthvcult

3A)

🔒 in this corner of the world by akahua (G, 4k, wangxian, Kind of angsty, Cooking, Chinese Food, Inspired by Little Forest, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Comfort Food, Sichuan Cuisine, Spicy Food, Hunan Cuisine, Suzhou Cuisine, Soup, Lotus Root and Pork Rib Soup for the Soul, Modern Setting) also fits 3B

3B)

something left to save by androids_fighting93 (E, 57k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, No Bloodbath of Nightless City, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, Hurt/Comfort, single dad WWX, Sick Character, Golden Core Reveal, the lightest d/s dynamic if you squint, handjobs, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Dynamics) Does it count as alone if he takes A-Yuan with him?

Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, POV LWJ, īthis started as a crazy rich asians au but quickly got away from me, light moments of angst but mostly shenanigans)

Something Warm and Safe by Winxhelina (T, 13k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Warm, Friendship/Love, Love, much softer than it seems, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence)

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4. Hi!! thank u guys so much for all your effort! i was hoping that in the next in the mood for (though i’d love a comp with this vibe) could i get a fic where wwx is genuinely loved by the juniors/has a good dynamic with them? I was thinking something close to what’s written in the “hills and rivers” series (and every single one where they will throw down to defend him no questions asked). Thank you! @thwispsings

Joy In the Midst of These Things series by Glitterbombshell (T, 53k, wangxian, post-canon, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, teacher WWX, trauma & recovery)

Proximity To Knowledge by ChilianXianzi (T, 7k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Married Wangxian, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Teacher WWX, Inventor WWX, And his research assistant Lan ducklings, LQR is not a good educator, the kids are alright, WWX did online learning before it was cool)

bespoke by cafecliche (G, 3k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Fluff, basically I worked in both politics and event-planning and this is what happened, LSZ is a very good boy, which is specifically a tag for the fic but also just true in general)

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5. In the next available itmf post, could you/the community rec any fics where wwx is involved with activism? particularly if the fic highlights the hard and sometimes dangerous sides of the work. (I have vague memories of a few where it was LWJ who was involved, but I'm particularly interested in wwx for this request.) @balleyboley

like, comment, share & subscribe by detectorist (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, YouTube, Social Media, Flirting, Humour, Banter, Getting Together, First Kiss, Texting, so much texting, Youtubers For Social Justice, The Gang Gets Political, Competitive Flirting Via The Medium Of Youtube, it’s about the yearning, YouTube Rivals To Lovers) I'm not sure if this is what request 5 has in mind but these modern AUs have some element of WY being an activist

These Things Stay the Same by notevenyou (E, 30k, wangxian, Modern, Kid Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Injury, Natural Disasters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Accidents)

Keep Track of Losing Days by giraffeter (T, 74k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Case Fic, Police, Missing Persons, Getting Together, Flashbacks, Detective LWJ, antifa WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, First Meetings, Seattle, Mutual Pining, nonfatal car accident, mafia wens, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers)

Heat It Up! with Wei Ying by justpeace (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, coworkers to dating, Getting Together, Chinese Food, racism that largely happens offscreen, workplace racism, toxic workplace environment, Workplace Relationship, food as a metaphor for racism, Humor, Happy Ending, Angst and Humor, food as a metaphor for flirting, References to Drugs, Alcohol, Asian-American Character)

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6. Hi ! This is an I’m in the mood for: I’m looking for a really good long and passionate Friends to lovers🩷 @red-spacekitten

See all this and more for just ten dollars a month! Series by ScarlettStorm (E, 382k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Pining, Porn, like in the writing and also as a plot point, onlyfans au, repressed lwj, sex worker wwx, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, hornt™, mental health, therapy is good actually, Nonbinary NHS, Gender Exploration, Hurt/Comfort, past trauma, genderfluid wwx)

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7. hello! for the next in a mood for could i please get fics that have a similar vibe to “lynchpin” by shanastoryteller when it comes to yunmeg bros relationship, please??

🔒 to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JYL & WWX & JC, JC & LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soulmates, Chronic Illness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease, but as a curse, LWJ says fuck, Feelings Realization, obsession with interior design, JGY is bad, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Family Angst, sibling angst, LXC says fuck, He's very stressed, soft, Wedding, LQR was in love once too, Motion Sickness, sect politics, Marriage Proposal, YZY had reason to be angry, JFM feels guilty and so he should, Madam Lan was imprisoned for no reason)

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8. haai! for the next in a mood for could i please request fics where jin guangyao feels the weight of comeuppance? like actually has to deal with the consequences of his actions instead of just dying outright. thank uuu UwU

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9. Hello I hope you are wellI would like to ask you if you could help me find fanfic where Lan Wangji is the one who travels back in time to fix everything or where Lan Wangji Furuto travels to the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi, the genre could be Wangxian or Xianwang Could you please do me a big favor and thank you, I love your work. @alfithia

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) Not so much LWJ time travel fix everything more LWJ time travel break things in a different way that benefits WWX

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) LWJ time loop

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, burial mounds settlement days, angst w happy ending)

The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, wangxian, time travel fix-it)

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 51k, WIP, WangXian, Lan protective team, Time Travel, Past, LWJ oriented, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Soulmates, Fix-It, Jiang siblings, not jiang parents friendly, Soft LWJ, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX)

The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 86k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, family, not lan sect friendly, canon typical violence & gore, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, mothers who live, some people live/not everyone dies)

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10. Itmf lwj protects wwx’s virtue… “only I can look at him” vibes; jealous, protective, and chivalrous lwj.

A Baby Dragon's Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 102k, wangxian, fantasy au, dragon LWJ, fox WWX, younger LWJ, older WWX, fluff, humor, happy ending) if the person doesn't mind AUs, then A Baby Dragon's Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing is the penultimate story for protecting Wei Ying's virtue.

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11. ITMF war fics. Like actual real war. Not like how people potray sun shot campaign, but war like WW1 WW2. If it could be modern , I would love it. But canon era will work too. Thankyou.

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12. this is for itmf!

does anyone know any good Xicheng fics?

(I've already read Audience of One by WinterDreams !!)

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13. hiii thank you so much for all the work that u do! ive been reading every recs for a week now >< that said, do u have any fics where wangxian are kids and are being there most adorable selves? i've been in the mood for baby wangxian and fluff lately. Thanks again!!

🔒 If You are with Me | End Racism in OTW by Starkalways1 (G, 5k, wangxian, Babyji and Babyxian story)

藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai (M, 45k, WangXian, Orphan WWX, Childhood Friends to Lovers, wwx raised in the lan clan, softer lqr, Good Uncle LQR, Good lan clan, Good Older Sibling LXC)

🔒 Hope series by RoseThorne (M, 59k, wangxian, WIP, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death, Resentment, Anger, Explosions, Yīn Iron, Grief/Mourning, POV WWX)

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14. Itmf war fics. Relationship or marriage in between war?

Not That Great a Sacrifice by Winglesss (E, 37k, wangxian, historical fantasy au, arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, elemental magic, pining, UST, forbidden love, miscommunication, weddings, fluff & humor, light angst w/ happy ending)

tie a knife with a ribbon by iliacquer (E, 5k, wangxian, Dubious Consent, Bottom LWJ, YLLZ WWX, D/s, Rimming, Frottage, a lot of smut, a sprinkling of plot for flavour, war prize LWJ)

Conquering the Emperor by catbrainedschemes (E, 21k, wangxian, Historical AU, Imperial China, Emperor WWX, General LWJ, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Historically Inaccurate, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Light Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, Getting Together, Sexual Tension, Some Plot, Slow Burn, Happy Ending)

what price is duty, what cost is love by thunderwear (G, 18k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, WWX was never adopted by the Jiang Sect, War Prize, YLLZ WWX, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, First Time, Falling In Love, eventual dramatic confessions, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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15. thanks for the hard work admins! any fics where lwj falls in love with wwx at first sight? thanksss❤️

smoke gets in your eyes by orphan_account (T, <1k, wangxian, WIP, F/F, Modern, Chef WWX) very short but very cute crush forming, wlw wangxian

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16. Itmf good madam yu fics.

A) she's always been good.

B) she grows good as fic progresses.

C) she's like - "yeah that is a nuisance gremlin, but you see that's MY nuisance gremlin " - for wwx @constellationdks

16B)

🔒❤️ the thing with feathers by RoseThorne  (G, 43k,wangxian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Fear, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect)

16C)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 78k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Only WWX Could Have an Empress to Farmer Pipeline, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, LWJ will grovel to the ends of the earth to make it up to WWX don’t worry, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan, not LWJ friendly)

🧡 Heaven Has No Rage by flipfloppandas (M, 51k, WWX & YZY, JFM/YZY,  implied wangxian, WWX/WC, WWX/others, rape/non-con, modern, hurt/comfort, protective YZY, good parent YZY, hospitals, medical procedures, vomiting, trauma) It’s a moderne AU I liked it a lot it’s a YZY pov but it is very hard to read (READ THE TAGS)

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17. Hi! 🤗

Looking for the other fic, make me want to read more fics about WWX having his own sect. I really think WWX would be a great sect leader. So this is an ask for ITMF. ☺️ Thanks again for everything! 💕 @wangxiansgirl

I think there is a yiling Wei sect compilation on this blog!

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX's Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***