#venereal machine

[havesexwithghosts]

The Lover’s Labyrinth notes and snapshots

[otpadsis]

damn he really wants to know

[faaun]

i once looked at the warped sky and only later did i realise the clouds superimposed were not a holy manifestation of my retinal cells dying but rather an image cast in the glass facade of a building so tall that my mind paused in its computation. i wake up to this window each too-late afternoon except today i couldn't look away at the colossal tree in my neighbour's front lawn. i have been greeted by a twice-centenarian each day - today i said hello back (hello, long-time host of a thousand molecular and thousand-legged angels). the corners of my bones grow sharper around whirring machinery. express gnash and divinity in modal logic. green preacher, reverend with the variegation, love affair with a mycorrhizal network. one day my overclocked quartz-hearted lovelies with the arithmetic logic units and machine-code choirs will commune with you.

[voltas-do-mar]

🧡

🧡 How do you feel about Kim? [The voice through the radio is full of great fondness (in the way a parent would speak of their beloved child) and of great veneration (in the way a child would speak of their beloved parent).]

ma raison d'être, my pilot, my charge i care for him deeply / although, by and large he is my keeper / im just part of a whole a bird in a ribcage to soothe a lost soul i want naught but his joy / i sing him to shore but im merely a song / wish i could do more

[13thpythagoras]

reminding westerners that pigs are usually smarter than dogs; cows are about as smart as cats.

in many parts of the world, and in strict Christianity as well, the cow and pig are considered sacred, and are forbidden from being eaten. If you want to spot a fake Christian just check if they eat the pig. Cows are so sacred in India they never kill or slaughter a cow, but they do use it for the milk.

So to much of the world, westerners live on a diet of dogs and cats; pigs and cows. Tomato tomahto.

My vibe is just stay judging no one, do not eat mammals, and vibrate highly.

He is a sick fuck

[esperderek]

New RPG.net owner liked tweets from RFK Jr, Tucker Carlson, and more...

Just left RPG.net, that venerable old tabletop rpg forum, a forum that I've been a part of for 20+ years.

Recently (in March), it was bought by RPGMatch, a startup aiming to do matchmaking for TTRPGs. In the past couple of days, despite their many reassurances, I got it into my head to look up the new owner Joaquin Lippincott, and lucky for me he has a Twitter! (Or X, now, I guess.)

Yeah...the first warning bell is that his description calls him a 'Machine learning advocate', and his feed is full of generative AI shit. Oh, sure, he'll throw the fig leaf of 'AI shouldn't take creative jobs.' here and there, but all-in-all he is a full-throated supporter of genAI. Which means that RPGnet's multiple assurances that they will never scrape for AI...suspect at best.

Especially, when you check out his main company, https://www.metaltoad.com/, and find that his company, amongst other services, is all about advising corporations on how to make the best use of generative AI, LLMs, and machine learning. They're not the ones making them, but they sure are are helping corps decide what jobs to cut in favor of genAI. Sorry, they "Solve Business Problems."

This, alone, while leaving a massive bad taste in my mouth, wouldn't be enough, and apart from his clear love of genAI his feed is mostly business stuff and his love of RPGs. Barely talks politics or anything similar.

But then, I decided to check his Likes, the true bane of many a people who have tried to portray themselves as progressive, or at least neutral.

And wow. In lieu of links that can be taken down, I have made screenshots. If you want to check it yourself, just find his Twitter feed, this isn't hidden information. (Yet.)

Here's him liking a conspiracy theory that the War on Ukraine is actually NATO's fault, and it's all a plan by the US to grift and disable Russia!

Here's him liking Robert F. Kennedy Jr. praising Tucker Carlson interviewing Vladimir Putin!

Here's him liking a right wing influencer's tweet advancing a conspiracy theory about Hunter Biden!

Former Republican candidate Vivek Ramaswamy talking about how he wants to tear down the Department of Education and the FDA (plus some COVID vaccine conspiracy theory thrown in)

Sure did like this Tucker Carlson video on Robert Kennedy Jr... (Gee, I wonder who this guy is voting for in October.)

Agreeing about a right-wing grifter's conspiracy theories... (that guy's Twitter account is full of awful, awful transphobia, always fun.)

Him liking a tweet about someone using their own fathers death to advance an anti-vaxx agenda! What the fuck! (This guy was pushing anti-vax before his father's death, I checked, if you're wondering.)

So, yes, to sum it up, RPG.net, that prides itself as an inclusive place, protective it's users who are part of vulnerable groups, and extremely supportive of creators, sold out to a techbro (probably)libertarian whose day job is helping companies make use of generative AI and likes tweets that advance conspiracy theories about the Ukraine war, Hunter Biden, vaccines, and others. Big fan of RFKjr, Carlson, and Putin, on the other hand.

And, like, shame on RPG.net, Christopher Allen for selling to this guy, and the various admins and mods who spent ages reassuring everything will be okay (including downplaying Lippincott's involvement in genAI). Like, was no research into this guy done at all? Or did y'all not care?

So I'm gone, and I'm betting while maybe not today or tomorrow, things are going to change for that website, and not for the best for anyone.

[thegnomelord]

Devotion in Steel

How They Worship You After The Hunt: Dottore, Childe, Zhongli.

So this is based off This idea I had about a cyberpunk reader in a cult!Sagau genshin, so this is just me testing the waters. I spent wayyy too much time on this one lol but this brainrot is still going strong.

CW: Suggestive themes, cult/yandere characters, reader is GN, mentioned gore for Zhongli part. First time writing Yandere's so tell me how it goes lol.

Dottore: Silent Curiosity

He does not worship you openly; he doesn't sing hymns about your mercy or your cruelty, nor does he press his face into the ground whenever you pass, like certain archons wishing for redemption. His worship is quiet. To the unworthy, the way he touches you — with clinically cold hands, examining every gear, and bolt, and piston with the same calculating gaze reserved for one of his machines — may as well be the highest form of sacrilege. Who is he to act as if you are just another of his toys? Who is he to not even say a single word to you? Who is he to touch and pull on your mechanical components like some urchin child toying with an object they do not realize is precious? But they can't do anything, because You do not see it their way. You do not stop or punish him, you encourage him; it isn't rare to find you two alone, him on his knees with your arm held in his hands, silently watching the moving mechanisms beneath your plating as you explain the intricacies of your mechanical form to him in that synthetic voice of yours that makes his bones tremble. His touch is clinical, precise, but it is by no means cold; His worship is conveyed through his actions. With reverence he cleans the dirt and grime from the seams in your armor, happy to stay on his knees for hours, days even, so long as not a single speck of dirt is left to mar your perfect body. With piety he polishes every gear, with admiration he oils every piston, worshiping even the smallest piece in your body like it is a holy relic. To Dottore, being able to see technology millennia ahead of his own and learn of knowledge yet undiscovered would have been bliss. But to feel it beneath his fingers? To feel it in his bones as that artificial voice of yours reveals the world's secrets? Heaven.

Tartaglia: Eager Veneration

Once, Tartaglia had only known of you from the stories his parents had told him; of a loving creator, a place of safety and solace in this harsh world. Later, when he fell into the Abyss, Skirk told him new stories of you, passed down to her by the denizens of the Abyss — ones his parents wouldn't have dared to utter lest they tempt Celestia to punish them for heresy. So when you descended, full of harsh edges and your body geared for battle, he embraced you as you were. He would have loved you regardless of your appearance, but something about the mechanical version of you made sense to him; Children resemble their parents after all, why should you have appeared like the demure little thing the tapestries depicted you as when Teyvat could be harsh, and cruel, and cold? He remembered his parents teachings, tried to be respectful like the other acolytes, on their knees, with their heads pressed to the ground. He would have done so happily, would have kneeled before you until he was nothing but bones, would have slaughtered countries in your name... yet the abyss gnawed on his bones, needing your attention like a babe needed a parent. So when you showed him favor? When you offered him to touch the divine metal of your cybernetic body? He couldn't stop himself. Anxiety tempered his eagerness, he did not seek more than what you offered him, yet his hands still glided over your skin and metal with the same energy as the little gears beneath your outer shell. Trembling fingers traced old dents and scratches that ripperdocs had neglected to fix, words of absolute devotion leaving his lips as he put his head to your chest, listening to the tik tik tik of mechanical organs beneath your chassis. But your weapons enchanted him the most. It reminded him so much of the Foul Legacy hiding under his skin; the promise of danger and death lurking beneath the surface, ready to be used as soon as a threat appeared — a similarity between you two that no one else could claim. He could spend days simply kissing and lavishing the seams in the armor, feeling where fake skin transitioned into metal which hid your weaponry from the world. Though you never allowed him more than a look, he yearned to touch them, to kiss the sharp blades, to feel his bones bend under your mechanical strength, to feel the monowire burn through his skin... Please, won't you let him? He survived the Abyss, he promises that he's tough, he can handle the pain... just this once, let him worship you, all of you, please?

Zhongli: Desperate Absolution

Zhongli is afraid; to touch, to breathe, to even exist near you. How can he not be, when he is the reason for your missing parts? Your aching joints? When he was the one who harmed you, who tainted your holy body with his hate and prejudice? When he was so prideful as to forsake his creator because they did not fit his own imagination? When the truth was revealed, the real impostor laying dead and your mechanical frame speckled with drops of your golden blood, he understood he was in no place to anything but bow and pray your fury would be swift and merciful, though he did not deserve it. Yet even as he knelt before you, head bowed so low it was flush with the ground and eyes shut tight, not daring to even glance at your metallic feet, a part of him still yearned for a chance at redemption; to earn back the chance to worship you, to earn your forgiveness through devotion. He would do anything for it; Kiss and lick the dirt off your mechanical feet, be at your beck and call till the end of time... If you wished to regain your lost parts — he would scour the far reaches of Teyvat until he found all the metal pieces you had lost, and those that were permanently damaged? He would carve his bones into shape, until they fit... If you told him to forfeit his flesh like you had done — he would claw at his skin until not a single scrap of meat hangs off his bones. He would happily wander the earth as a skeleton, grafting pieces of old Khaenri'ahn technology to himself until he resembled you, just so you could inflict the same wounds he had done to you... Yet you did no such thing. Even as his thoughts gained a voice, escaping his mouth through muffled whimpers, all you did was watch him, your mechanical gaze racking over his shivering form as he tried to stop his hiccupping cries. Truly pathetic. Then your fingers found his chin, gripping him in a bruising as you raised his head to look at you. Your mechanical eyes reflected in the tears running down his cheeks, the metal joints in your fingers nipping at his skin. His eyes met your cold gaze, and he wondered what you will ask of him — His eyes? His tongue? His arms? The impostor would have demanded all that and more... He would give it in a heartbeat. But please, find it in your cold heart to forgive him.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to screw up a whistleblower law

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me THIS WEDNESDAY (Apr 17) in CHICAGO, then Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Corporate crime is notoriously underpoliced and underprosecuted. Mostly, that's because we just choose not to do anything about it. American corporations commit crimes at 20X the rate of real humans, and their crimes are far worse than any crime committed by a human, but they are almost never prosecuted:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/12/no-criminals-no-crimes/#get-out-of-jail-free-card

We can't even bear to utter the words "corporate crime": instead, we deploy a whole raft of euphemisms like "risk and compliance," and that ole fave, the trusty "white-collar crime":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition

The Biden DOJ promised it would be different, and they weren't kidding. The DOJ's antitrust division is kicking ass, doing more than the division has done in generations, really swinging for the fences:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/22/reality-distortion-field/#three-trillion-here-three-trillion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Main Justice – the rest of the DOJ – promised that it would do the same. Deputy AG Lisa Monaco promised an end to those bullshit "deferred prosecution agreements" that let corporate America literally get away with murder. She promised to prosecute companies and individual executives. She promised a lot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/22/reality-distortion-field/#three-trillion-here-three-trillion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Was she serious? Well, it's not looking good. Monaco's number two gnuy, Benjamin Mizer, has a storied career – working for giant corporations, getting them off the hook when they commit eye-watering crimes:

https://prospect.org/justice/2024-04-09-reform-groups-lack-of-corporate-prosecutions-doj/

Biden's DOJ is arguably more tolerant of corporate crime than even Trump's Main Justice. In 2021, the DOJ brought just 90 cases – the worst year in a quarter-century. 2022's number was 99, and 2023 saw 119. Trump's DOJ did better than any of those numbers in two out of four years. And back in 2000, Justice was bringing more than 300 corporate criminal prosecutions.

Deputy AG Monaco just announced a new whistleblower bounty program: cash money for ratting out your crooked asshole co-worker or boss. Whistleblower bounties are among the most effective and cheapest way to bring criminal prosecutions against corporations. If you're a terrified underling who can't afford to lose your job after narcing out your boss, the bounty can outweigh the risk of industry-wide blacklisting. And if you're a crooked co-conspirator thinking about turning rat on your fellow criminal, the bounty can tempt you into solving the Prisoner's Dilemma in a way that sees the crime prosecuted.

So a new whistleblower bounty program is good. We like 'em. What's not to like?

Sorry, folks, I've got some bad news:

https://www.corporatecrimereporter.com/news/200/stephen-kohn-on-the-justice-department-plan-to-offer-whistleblower-awards/

As the whistleblower lawyer Stephen Kohn points out to Russell Mokhiber of Corporate Crime Reporter, Monaco's whistleblower bounty program has a glaring defect: it excludes "individuals who were involved with the crime." That means that the long-suffering secretary who printed the boss's crime memo and put it in the mail is shit out of luck – as is the CFO who's finally had enough of the CEO's dirty poker.

This is not how other whistleblower reward programs work: the SEC and CFTC whistleblower programs do not exclude people involved with the crime, and for good reason. They want to catch kingpins, not footsoldiers – and the best way to do that is to reward the whistleblower who turns on the boss.

This isn't a new idea! It's in the venerable False Claims Act, an act that signed into law by President Abraham Lincoln. As Kohn says, making "accomplices" eligible to participate in whistleblower rewards is how you get people like his client, who relayed a bribe on behalf of his boss, to come forward. As Lincoln said in 1863, the purpose of a whistleblower law is to entice conspirators to turn on one another. Like Honest Abe said, "it takes a rogue to catch a rogue."

And – as Kohn says – we've designed these programs so that masterminds can't throw their minor lickspittles under the buss and collect a reward: "I know of no case where the person who planned or initiated the fraud under any of the reward laws ever got a dime."

Kohn points out that under Monaco, the DOJ just ignores the rule that afford anonymity to whistleblowers. That's a big omission – the SEC got 18,000 confidential claims in 2023. Those are claims that the DOJ can't afford to miss, given their abysmal, sub-Trump track record on corporate crime prosecutions.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/15/whistleblown/#lisa-monaco

[lilyflanders]

like the idea of child's magic language acquisition that is then lost makes sense within a context in which we re made to view own/other's body as a constantly irrevocably depreciating asset, so much so that we envy literal toddlers for their "natural" skills and grindset lol

(which also devalues/denies childs work and effort bc we hate children and dont see them as people)

A textbook called Grammatical Theory by Stefan Müller just came out, and man, he's dropping some truth bombs!

Furthermore, the claim that first language acquisition is effortless and rapid when compared to second language acquisition is a myth as has been shown by estimations by Klein (1986: 9): if we assume that children hear linguistic utterances for five hours a day (as a conservative estimate), then in the first five years of their lives, they have 9100 hours of linguistic training. But at the age of five, they have still not acquired all complex constructions. In comparison, second-language learners, assuming the necessary motivation, can learn the grammar of a language rather well in a six-week crash course with twelve hours a day (500 hours in total).

And then...

In Chapter 13, it was shown that all the evidence that has previously been brought forward in favor of innate linguistic knowledge is in fact controversial. In some cases, the facts are irrelevant to the discussion and in other cases, they could be explained in other ways. Sometimes, the chains of argumentation are not logically sound or the premises are not supported. In other cases, the argumentation is circular. As a result, the question of whether is innate linguistic knowledge remains unanswered. All theories that presuppose the existence of this kind of knowledge are making very strong assumptions.

In short: Human linguistic abilities aren't magic, and children aren't elves.

In meme form:

[arconinternet]

Adventure Maker (Windows, 1999-2013)

An easy-to-use first-person (primarily, but optionally third-person) adventure game engine, unsupported since 2013 and unavailable for purchase since 2017 (when the venerable Kagi registration service died). You can download it here.

You can find links to free games made with the program on the Wayback Machine here. Don't forget to check the linked sites on the live web too. Games listed as not working on Vista (and thus even following versions of WIndows) may work after using this patch from the Carol Reed series site (Carol Reed games 1-3 used to need it, but no longer do - the other games use other engines - game NINETEEN coming on Jan 1st!).

[whorety-k]

a song that I really like is bedroom hymns by florence + the machine, which I think would work quite well with lorgar. And even if you don’t write anything with it do listen to her songs cause they’re all utter bangers. I highly recommend them

I'm a simp for Florence + The Machine lovey, don't you worry. I have sang Sky Full Of Song outside in the middle of a storm as the gods intended.

you are SO right about bedroom hymns being perfect for Lorgar, so please let me indulge us all with this one

I hope you intended for this drabble to be NSFW because a song about sex guised as a religious metaphor has me thinking about religious sex. Please enjoy my shaky understanding of structured religion and my attempt at cramming as much blasphemous/religious language as possible.

(my own religion is not very structured so this was actually a fun learning experience)

Pairing: Lorgar Aurelian x wife!Reader

Song Inspiration: Bedroom Hymns - Florence + The Machine [Youtube] [Spotify]

“Sweating out confessions / The undone and the divine / ‘Cause this is his body / This is his love / Such selfish prayers / and I can’t get enough.”

Warnings: NSFW 18+ content, heavy religious tones and language, body worship

Word Count: 462

A feather-light kiss pressed to the inside of your calf causes you to give a full body shudder, and you feel your husband’s broad chest rumble with sweet laughter. 

“So sensitive,” Lorgar whispers, breathless. His amethyst eyes trail over the love bites he’s left between your thighs, full of veneration. Devoted fingertips examine the newest scripture: a crimson bloom situated within the curve of your hip. The way he spreads your pages wide and reveres your texts has you squirming and pleading his name like a mantra. 

A delicate finger runs through your folds, gathering your dripping essence before sinking in sinfully slow. A low moan bubbles in your chest, relieved at finally receiving stimulation after the teasing worship Lorgar has been lavishing your body with.

Lorgar lifts himself from between your legs to hover over you. A free hand tips your chin towards him, smiling when your eyes find his. He kisses away your sacrificial tears as his thumb begins to rub circles in your puffy clit, playing your body the way he knows drives you towards rapture.

Leaving you dripping with tender touches is promise.

Stretching you open on his fingers is liturgy.

Sinking his aching cock into your heat is sacrament. 

Lorgar moans reverence as your cunt parts around him, sucking him in.  “You’re perfect,” he breathes, relishing in the warmth of your smaller body. He aches to press his lips to yours as he worships at your altar, to confess his impure thoughts directly into the ears of his deity, but the size difference is too great. Instead, he finds absolution in the way your hips rock back to meet his languid thrusts, finds grace in each hitched breath or ragged whine. “So good,” Lorgar sighs, “so good…”

The keen that leaves your lips as you reach your peak drives him into religious ecstasy, rutting desperately into you when you clamp down around him. Ragged moans fill your ears, your husband’s thrusts becoming erratic before his hips give a final buck firmly into you– his final offering. Warmth pools within your belly as Lorgar’s cock throbs deep inside. The fluttering of your walls is a blessing as you milk him for all he’s worth, a close to your most sacred of rituals.

Lorgar shifts back to remove himself from you, and you beam up at your husband with a smile, admiring him with heavy eyelids. You’re quick to beckon him back down to cuddle with open arms. The sight causes Lorgar’s heart to swell, and he finds himself completely lost in you once again. His tiny little wife. His world. His stars. A goddess so willing to cleanse his soul and forgive his sins.

How can he be so condemning of himself when you invite him into your hallowed space like that?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Finality 9, Arbiter of the End

For hours you and your allies have sheltered in place as the astral warships bombarded the city, feeling each impact as another block was levelled. Now you watch as the Flagship touches down, scarab like legs taller than spires unfolding from it's hull. It's going to be a bloody, brutal struggle fighting your way through the rubble and the burning streets up to the control deck, but It's your only hope of ending things without your home being razed to the ground.

The embodiment of a death sentence passed long before any of the heroes were ever born, the Marut Finality 9 and the Inevitable armada it commands serve only one purpose: to deliver violent and irrevocable endings to entities that should have died long ago.

Unfortunately for the party, whatever being(s) Finality 9 is hunting happen to reside on the same landmass as they do, and the Inevitable has no qualms levelling anything that gets in its way until the destruction of its target is confirmed. Like many creatures born from the shattered plane of order, Finality 9 and its construct legion have a very narrow set of operational directives, and "preserving life" ends up being the preview of a different order of celestial machines.

Finality 9's operations always follow the same protocol: After using divination to determine the vague location of their target Modron scouts will be sent to investigate, sending a transmission back to the ship to begin the invasion the moment they've determined the enemy's presence and threat level. After that it's bombardment and battalions in specified areas to soften up their target's defences before Finality 9 itself descends to finish the job.

Hooks:

One of Finality 9's scouts becomes attached to the party early in their adventures, following along and providing typical mascot antics until they stumble across evidence of the big bad. This starts a ticking clock for the party to find and oust this evil before the Inevitables arrive... a task the galactic forces of order were failing at for decades.

Every year the realm celebrates the festival of St. Altrin's Star, held on a night when a particular comet is viable to venerate the figure's many beneficent acts. This year however the comet is unusually bright, heralding the fact that it is not a star, but Finality 9's ship which has been circling the world for decades or even centuries waiting for the reemergence of a long dormant demi-lich which the party awoke earlier in their adventures.

The Inevitable does not warn or negotiate, and likely does not even speak the language of the lands it is razing but with some telepathy or a background in obscure astral dialects they might be able to get it to stop by presenting evidence that its target is already dead ( forcing them to do all the work) or that its actions are unlawful (which requires iron clad litigation skills and knowledge of multiple celestial law systems). If the heroes happen to have any favours with infernal deal makers or underworld bureaucrats, now would be the time to call them in.

In a desperate hour, the party must seek out finality 9's armada hovering dormant in wildspace in hopes of gaining their aid against a greater foe. Delving through the flagship in its hibernation mode will not be easy as not only are there defence systems to worry about but astral wildlife that have nested in the interior while the constructs within were in standby mode.

Art 1, Art 2

[slonechnik]

yes! i saw a poll yesterday the 'did you read it?' sort, and the description seemed fun, im on chapter 33 and absolutely obsessed with it

pure delight!

devil venerable really said if you dont have naturally occuring soulmates, homemade are fine

[hotvintagepoll]

Robert Morley (Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines, Gilbert and Sullivan, The Old Dark House)—With his sepulchral cadence, plummy tones, and penchant for chewing the scenery, Morley is a venerable institution of twentieth century British cinema. Here he is being a sleepy boyo, here he is wearing maybe the worst little fake beard ever, and here he is doing some silly little jumps.

Humphrey Bogart (The Big Sleep, In a Lonely Place, Dark Passage)—Now I know he may be one of the all time classic leading men of vintage cinema and that seems decidedly unscrungly in a way and yet! He's also definitely not what a lot of people would describe as *conventionally* handsome. The man scrungled his way to the top. Plus, for me, the archetypical hardboiled detective is an inherently scrungly figure- he doesn't always have his life together and sometimes maybe he's even a tiny bit pathetic and yet is still somehow always charming as hell. And so of course Bogart, being the face of two of the most iconic hardboiled detectives of all time, embodies that noir antihero scrungliness to me.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Robert Morley:

Here he is so happy to start a race among all the flying machines in the world in 1900 and something.

Humphrey Bogart:

[high-voltage-rat]

Actually I'm still thinking about it. Another interesting way in which RvB is anti-war is the way that the Director fills the role of a villain and antagonist (especially in the Recollections trilogy, where he's a faceless villain we never see but is responsible for everything that happens).

In his memos to the Chairman, the Director emphasizes his sense of duty and obligation to the military- he becomes irate for the first time when he feels that it's being implied that he was derelict in his duty... or that the work he did out of that duty is being criticized for being against the military's interests. He also talks about Allison's death in a way I find... interesting.

"You see; I never had the chance to serve in battle. Nor did fate provide me the opportunity to sacrifice myself for humanity as it did for so many others in the Great War. Someone extremely dear to me was lost very early in my life. My mind has always plagued me with the question: If the choice had been placed in my hands, could I have saved her? [...] But, given the events of these past few weeks, I feel confident that had I been given the chance, I would have made those sacrifices myself... Had I only the chance."

The idea of sacrifice is central to the way he talks about his wife's loss, to the way he talks about the war in general. He talks of sacrifice with a sense of veneration- that it's something he aspires to do, that he longs for. There's a few ways we can interpret "I would have made those sacrifices myself"...

-That in Allison's place, he thinks he would have laid down his life too.

-That if given the chance, he would have given his life to save hers.

But most interestingly...

-That he would have sacrificed Allison's life for the continued survival of humanity, if that was what duty called for.

...And personally, I think all 3 are true.

In most war media, the Director's perspective on sacrifice is very common. Sacrifice is glorious and heroic- to die in battle is an honour- and it's the only way to ensure the group you serve survives. This is a tool of propaganda- nobody wants to go to war just for the sake of it, you have to give them a reason that the risk of dying or being permanently disabled isn't just acceptable, but desirable. Beyond that, most people don't want to do things they think are immoral- you have to convince them it's important, a necessary lesser evil. You teach them to sacrifice their morals, too.

The way they train soldiers to follow orders and to kill, is to convince them that they, and the people around them, and the people they care about, will all die if they don't. It's drilled into your head from day one. It's the way they ensure their commanding officers won't shy away from sending their men off to die. The message is constant- sacrifice is your duty, and duty ensures your people's survival.

In the Director's eyes, the damage Project Freelancer caused was his sacrifice. He never got the opportunity to sacrifice himself during the war- so he sacrificed others, as military brass do. The Freelancers- including his daughter. The countless sim troopers. Any people he considered "collateral damage" on missions. And when the opportunity to do so presented itself, he sacrificed a copy of himself- Alpha- and he sacrificed a copy of Allison- Tex.

The very thing that derailed his life- the loss of his wife- he made it happen again. He put her copy in dangerous situations, let her exist in the position of constant repeated failure, created the circumstances that would eventually lead to her death. He put their daughter in deadly situations that nearly killed her repeatedly, provided her with impossible expectations leading to self-destructive behaviours in the name of duty, implanted her with two AI knowing they could cause her permanent harm. He was confident he "would have made those sacrifices himself" because he did.

The Director is the embodiment of the military war machine. As an antagonist, he is a warning against buying into the glorification of sacrifice. He's a condemnation of the idea that one should be willing to do anything to win a war- that duty to the military is the thing that ensures survival... All the messages that are pushed to ensure recruitment and obedience of soldiers.

He's a reminder that swallowing the propaganda leads to you doing terrible things... and in the end, you're a broken man left mourning the losses that you suffered even as you repeated them, convinced that it was all necessary.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Mischievous Matching

☆ Pairing: Loki x Mutant!Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is a trouble maker, always one to cause trouble, but he meets a mortal that is even worse than him and he finds himself absolutely powerless and victim of your stupid outdated pranks, but he finds himself to be putty in your hands.

☆ Word Count: 7,656 (good thing I didn't know what to do with this prompt, eh? This is just the second longest fic I've done.)

☆ Notes: My first request! Yay! 🥳Loki is a smitten little lee. I'm really bad at doing pranks so I did the worst and oldest pranks I remembered, because it's funny Loki not growing up on earth wouldn't know any of them. Also, it's not said outright, but in case of doubt the reader's mutation is super-elasticity because guess who started watching One Piece 👒🏴‍☠️.

☆ Warnings: Very bad and outdated pranks, other than that it's just pure fluff and flirting.

Loki thought he was smug. He had always been the smart brother, growing up constantly tricking an entire realm of Gods and Goddesses, he was very little used to people being smarter than him. Of course, he knew a couple of them existed, his mother was one he could never lie to. Odin more often than others saw through his deception and caught him playing pranks on Thor. But when you grow up in a Realm that values more your physical strength and at most your ability to come with war strategies… You come to believe you’re bound to become complacent, and it becomes a matter until… well, what always happens.

Loki would’ve never expected his match would come from Earth. Quite frankly, he had expected humans would always stay the same, kind of like Asgardians did. But they didn’t. Humans (for the most part at least) didn’t have magic or supernatural skills, so they chose to be inventive, they created modern civilizations purely thanks to the fact that humans chose to play smarter.

He wouldn’t admit it, now that Asgard settled on Midgard, and he got to see what humans did with technology… it was sort of admirable how much they had made purely with ingenuity. Only a bit.

There was Stark, who had made a technological empire and entire armies just with just machines, humans like the sanctuary where Strange lived or the Maximoff girl that had learned magic despite their incompatibility with it, or the bug hero’s mentor that figured a way to alter the size of matter itself. Not to mention the Avengers had managed to take him down, a God his ancestors used to venerate without question.

Perhaps some humans were in fact, formidable.

Still Loki could get away with a ridiculous number of things simply because a lot of humans were just that gullible. His illusions had already started wreaking havoc in small towns where his illusions had turned into rumors of what he learned humans called UFOs… although, to be completely fair, he was, by definition, an alien.

But the true meaning of formidable he found in you.

He met you one night he was allowed to visit New York and he decided to mess with passerby Midgardians. He simply sat on a bench of the park casted the illusion of a Ratatoskr and let humans do their thing. Truth to be told, while the creature wasn’t necessarily scary, it was gonna be interesting when the young ones noticed a talking squirrel and he saw some children excitedly trying to catch it, which may or may not have been actually endearing. But the real fun came when the parents became hysterical. Chaos ensued and Loki couldn’t hide a smile.

“That’s yours, isn’t it?” a voice asked, and you sat beside him.

He looked at you perplexed.

“It’s just… it kinda sticks out that you seem even more amused than the actual children playing with that. It’s supposed to be Ratatoskr, right?”

He didn’t expect anyone to notice, he had sat at enough distance that he couldn’t be related to what was going on, and he had a book on his hands so no one would relate his amusement to what’s going on.

The illusion vanished as he lost focus, surprised that you noticed him. He couldn’t hold back a soft laugh through his breath when a woman in her middle age let out a screech threatening to call the cops on an invisible talking squirrel. And to his surprise you laughed too.

“Man, I enjoy seeing your everyday soccer mom lose her marbles at whatever, but actively seeking their wrath takes courage.” You laughed.

You stretched out your hand and introduced yourself with a firm handshake which Loki surprised himself returning and giving away his actual name.

“W-Wait… like the Loki, Thor’s little brother… The Asgardian that… you know… over a decade ago did… you know?” you asked perplexed, not daring to say the actual thing.

Loki tense up, not knowing how you’d act next. For all he knows maybe the police force would end up showing up after all.

“Damn, so what they say is true” you shrugged. “You are a softie now.”

“What they say?” Loki gasped out indignant.

“Yeah, it was over the news a bit after the second snap, Ironman and your brother gave a press conference to explain you were in peace with Earth and it was Thanos’ brainwash.” You explained as a cheeky grin formed on your face. “Ergo, you are a softie.”

Loki was speechless. You knew who he was, you knew what he had done to New York, and yet you were poking the bear with a stick without an ounce of fear in your expression.

“Listen well, mortal, I–” Loki huffed.

“Pfft! I didn’t know Gods blushed.” You laughed heartedly.

“Hang on just a minute!” Loki protested as he became aware of the heat on his cheeks “I am–”

“Surprisingly fun to be around.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again as he found himself with no witty retort for your teasing.

“Thank you, I suppose” was all he could say, with less spite than he usually had when he spoke with mortals.

“I was gonna go grab a bite, wanna join? It’s a bit boring eating alone” you offered.

His stomach growled and he took the offer, partly because he was very hungry and both you had caught his curiosity. You were an odd one, that was for sure.

“So…” you wondered. “Is it true you’re staying with the Avengers?”

“Why do you wanna know?” he asked back.

“Curiosity” you smiled.

A question like that could’ve easily triggered an alarm, but for some reason it didn’t. And you didn’t lie.

“Yes, my brother decided to join the quarters to live with his friends and he took me with him” Loki admitted.

“Took you with him? Like an updog?” you arched an eyebrow in a way that made him feel slightly sheepish.

“Excuse me? What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Updog.”

“What about it?”

“What is updog?”

“Not much, what’s up with you?” you wheezed before letting out a dorky laugh.

Despite the fact that the All-Speak did not allow him to understand a place’s lingo he understood he had fallen for a stupid Midgardian joke.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I had to try, oh… oh god, I hadn’t met a anyone who didn’t know that one yet, but I had to try. I like you already.”

Now he was convinced, you were definitely an odd one. Not only did you not fear him, but you were bold enough to pull practical jokes on him and teased him for falling for it. It got on his nerves.

But he couldn’t help but follow you around. You kept teasing him the entire trip to a sandwich shop.

“What do you want to eat?” you smiled.

Loki stared awkwardly at the menu, he recognized some of the ingredients, but he had never been to a place like this. And he wasn’t used enough to human food to make an informed choice.

So, you stepped up and asked him a couple of questions about the food he liked and made a choice for him.

“You can punch me in the arm if it’s not good” you winked at him.

Loki surprised himself smiling at you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

But it was really good. It wasn’t anywhere near as refined as what he was used to eat, but it was surprisingly good. And you even paid for his food, which spared him the uncomfortable conversation over why he had no money despite leaving in a millionaire’s house.

“Hey, I live a bit far away, do you mind accompanying me home?”

Loki wasn’t sure why he accepted, but he found himself following you around, risking getting lost in New York City since he didn’t really know the area that well just yet. But he got on the bus with you and followed you home.

Which to his surprise… was the compound he himself lived in.

“Wait… D-Did you…?”

Loki felt betrayed. Of course. He should have known Stark would send an agent to find him, no one really trusted him, and they had to assign him a nanny to make sure he–

“I’m glad I ran into you” You spoke, interrupting his train of thought. “I still feel anxious coming so far out of the city alone, sorry if I cut your trip short.”

That caught him off guard. Were you not follow him? He didn’t sense a lie, but perhaps he was still a bit distracted.

“You mean you found me by accident?” Loki asked.

“Yeah, I’m not used to the headquarters being a home, so I need to get out to stretch my legs every once in a while. Otherwise, I feel… I don’t know.”

“Imprisoned.” You finished, as Loki’s lips let out the exact same word in almost a perfect synchronization.

Again, no lie.

“Hah… yeah” you smiled. “Sorry, I probably sound like a brat, complaining about living in such a big place.”

“No, I understand perfectly.” Loki found himself say in soft tone.

Loki walked with you inside and accompanied to your room. The sight when you opened the door was rather dismal. Just a small bed, a desk. But the bed was interesting, or more like what was on top of it. A stuffed little bear with a green bow on its neck, and a travel bag. He assumed they did go with Director Fury’s intention of having the trainees educated like soldiers until they completed their training.

After that day he felt more interested on helping with the training of newer recruits, thing he crushingly refused to do before meeting you. But it was his excuse to see you more. And as he imagined, you were among the best recruits. You weren’t the strongest, nor the fastest, and definitely not the tallest given some mutants came to be even taller than him. But you were agile and flexible, and you worked harder than anyone else to make up for any shortcomings you could have.

And you were smart, the smartest in the group. Loki had seen Stark give tests to the recruits and your results always came among the best, and more often than not, you were on top of those results.

“You did it again” Loki would congratulate you.

“It’s just a number on a paper” you always replied back, “that doesn’t mean I am going to be good on the world out there.”

“And yet your leg is bouncing with excitement” Loki pointed out.

You laughed and placed a hand to your knee to make it stop.

“The ego boost is still appreciated” you replied, a bit sheepish.

You were his favorite of all the recruits. Not that it was a title most competed for, a lot just gave him wary looks when it was his turn to train recruits, after all who wanted to have the man who once terrorized Earth as the class teacher. But you always helped to control the group, willingly volunteering for sparring with him for demonstrations and even while everyone else got a partner you chose him, even when that meant it’d be ten times more difficult than picking another mutant.

But once again, that allowed him to get closer to you.

“I’m telling you, it’s magic!” you assured him pointing to the water bottle as you sat next to him.

“Sure, it is.”

He knew you had no magic. He had read your files –for purely professional reasons, like personalizing– and knew of your abilities. But he also had no clue how you had shoved a coin bigger than the bottles neck all the way to the bottom.

But he didn’t like that playful giggle of yours, it always meant trouble.

“Look inside if you don’t believe me.” You said placing your eye on the bottle orifice to get a better look at the coin.

He sighed and mimicked what you had done, pressing his eye to the bottle’s finish to get a better look and see if he could figure something to get it out.

“I don’t see–”

In a second you had squeezed the bottle and splash him in the face. Which was noticed by a few recruits that let out quiet laughs, unlike you who were giggling shamelessly at his expense.

“You! You... traitorous, cheeky, despicable, insolent–” Loki huffed as he latched onto your ribs and squeezed them repeatedly making you double over in laughter.

You batted his hand gently after about a minute as you regained his composure.

“Oh god, you’re my favorite thing ever, it’s been years since these pranks stooped working on everyone else” you laughed.

Loki huffed. “I wasn’t living here years ago.”

“Oh, I know that’s what makes it funnier” you laughed and patted his shoulder.

Other trainees were looking at him amused, but he noticed they seemed a lot less tense now. As if some of that fear they had was gone. It was… weirdly nice. So, he just sighed and rubbed his face with sleeve to dry himself off.

“You cannot expect me to go easy on you after your little stunt” he asked as he stood up.

“Mm, it’s already, I like rough treatment anyway” you winked at him.

That made some other people in the room as Loki’s cheeks heated up lightly. But he still smirked.

“We’ll see about that in a few minutes, won’t we?”

You were also what humans called, the class clown. And your favorite thing was to prank him. It was all harmless stuff, like when you started a game the entire class to start a game every time, he used Asgardian or just outdated expressions like “Norns” or “Heavens.” Or that time you taped giant googly eyes to your chest, so he had a hard time giving a lecture as he got the urge to laugh every time he glanced at you, and even had the audacity to tell him, “Hey, my eyes are up here!” as you bounced, making the googly eyes bounce all over the place. That time where you filled his locker with confetti and balloons.

It was embarrassing because despite he’s nature, he had no way to get back at you. His illusions didn’t faze you one bit, and the concept of pranks for a god weren’t particularly safe for humans, your style was weirdly benign, and he couldn’t match it. And everything he tried repeating from your pranks wasn’t really surprising.

He used to think nothing could ever bother you at all… Until he was wrong.

He found you one night by the roof, sitting with your legs hanging on the edge, but the little border made a secure railing that kept you safe. You had been gone for hours, even skipping training, and he saw a half empty bottle of Vodka behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he sat beside you.

“Wasting time, and Tony’s reserves” you joked bitterly. “Watching the forest.”

“It is a lovely night” Loki admitted. “But you were missed at today’s sparring. It is obvious I’m not nearly as tolerable without you around.”

“Just relax, they’ve already warmed up to you” you sighed. “No one likes a stiff teacher.”

It was true hay whenever you made him laugh everyone else seemed to ease up as well. He always attributed to your natural charm and that you relished embarrassing him. But… people were a lot less wary around him lately.

“What made you skip?” he asked.

“It’s the 13th anniversary since my mutation manifested” you sighed and you reached your arm into the sky, it stretched for a few meters before it regained its normal shape.

“I thought people here celebrated that” Loki inquired. “You act as if a partner abandoned you.”

“I don’t know, I think I miss being normal… well, more normal” you chuckled humorlessly. “Not feeling like an actual monster.”

Loki could relate to that, realizing that you are different means you will never wake up with the same concept of yourself, because as it turns out, you are a mistake, a cosmic improbability and turns out, you’ve never been like anyone else around you.

“You are not monster, you’re a–”

“Oh right, because mutant sounds so much nicer.”

“Does it upset you?” Loki asked. “Being the way you are?”

“Yes. No. A little? I don’t know, it’s like a dream living in the Avengers home.” You sighed. “But… don’t you ever get the feeling that rather than wanting to have you around they’re just don’t want you to go rogue? I mean, I get it, with all that’s happening with the Banshee black market…”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at that. If anyone understood what you felt, that was him. You were a mutant, which granted was becoming much more transcendental these days. More with the mutation enhancing drugs circulating, SHIELD and other organizations were putting a lot of energy to make sure less mutants went on a rampage. But none of you actually had major lists of crimes on their backs, unlike Loki. If anyone was being monitored that was Loki.

Even if he was technically an official Avenger already, it always felt like it was all because of his connection with Thor and at most that he was already highly trained, better than most other Avengers.

“I assure you that they do not think that of you.” Loki spoke reassuringly. “The Incorporations of Mutants Program is simply to remove mutants from a dangerous environment.”

“Yeah, free of Banshee and even add some mutant soldiers to their ranks, it’s a win-win situation” you spoke bitterly.

A part of him felt weirdly nostalgic. His mind took him back to the treasure vault of Asgard, his words reverberating on the walls: «So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up, here until you might have use of me?» And now, more than a decade later, he found himself defending his father. This was just the same, you weren’t necessarily wrong… but it only a piece of the picture, the hurtful bit of a picture.

“You’re right to feel that way.” Loki spoke reassuringly. “But know that these people care about you… even if their original intentions aren’t as selfless. Trust me, I would know.”

“That’s surprisingly mature for a prince that’s technically younger than me.”

He felt his cheeks warming up to your comment and scoffed out a laugh. Of course, even in a vulnerable moment you wouldn’t let the chance pass to tease him.

“What can I say? I am not just devilishly handsome, charming, and tremendously intelligent,” he smiled, “there’s gotta be some wisdom to balance it all out.”

That made you laugh in that way that made his heart flutter in his chest. And before he knew it, you had rested your head on his shoulder. He felt his cheeks heat up and a smile make its way to his face. Had it always been so difficult concealing his excitement?

“You forgot humble and down to earth” you chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“What can I say, darling?” he smiled, “I’m a perfect man, I am completely irresistible.”

“And you still can’t get a date” you smile nudging his side.

“Not my fault there” Loki chuckled, “I’m quite particular when choosing a lover.”

“Right, and you being insufferable has nothing to do with it” you smiled as you grabbed his side and gave him a few squeezes.

The feeling made him jolt and let out a strangled gasp. Of course, you little brat always took advantage of this silly weakness of him ever since you found out.

He remembered the day you found out, quite vividly.

It was a holiday, so most recruits were out for a couple of days with either family, friends, or a new fling. Even some of the Avengers with friends out of the compound left for a few days. So, it was the super soldiers, the Maximoff twins, Vision, Thor, Loki, and you.

Your family had left for a trip, so you had no reason to leave the compound. Loki was thrilled that he would have you practically to himself. He felt those butterflies deep within his chest every time he saw you alone in a room. Of course, he kept his cool as best he could, still being the same mischievous charmer he’s always been, despite feeling like a giddy kid at the sight of you.

Even the most ordinary of mornings were blissful with you around. Even things like breakfast you could always make a monotone activities fun. Like right now, making Thor and the Maximoff twins laugh and sing around with you while you were whipping pancake mix on a bowl. It was some sort of little dance party while you cooked.

Loki couldn’t help but stare and chuckle softly.

“Loki, good morning” you smiled as poured some mix on a frying pan. “Wanna join us for breakfast?”

“Is it required for me to squirm around like a possessed worm like you’re doing?” he joked.

“Yes, it is imperative that you do, otherwise the pancakes will come flat” you quipped back with a cheeky smile.

“Come on brother, I know Midgard dancing is very different from what we used to see at home,” Thor intervened, “But it is quite fun, give it a try!”

“That’s the attitude, Thor-nderstorm” you grinned as you continued to dance.

“In that case I think I’ll just do with some coffee” he cleared his throat as he spoke.

“Come on, brother” Thor insisted, shameless —or rather, clueless— as usual. “It’s fun!”

“Hey, no shame if he can’t do it” you said, “Not everyone can dance.”

Loki laughed.

“If you call that «dancing», I’ll let you know I am actually a great dancer” he stated, just so you knew.

“Loki, if someone has to inform me of their traits, I have learned not to believe that.” You challenged him.

He looked away, focusing on the black liquid dripping into the coffee pot, trying to think of anything else that wasn’t you. Just the coffee, dark, bitter, that he had to keep himself from drinking before bed or it’d deprive him of sleep... Just the way you…

“ACK—!” he was brought back by the squeeze on his sides that made him jump and hold back a yelp.

He was ready to yell at Thor, when he saw the outstretched arms and you looking at him from the other side of the kitchen, the hands returned to your hips. Everyone was looking at him.

“Oh, you’re back” you saw his rosy cheeks a bit confused. “Honey?”

“Excuse me?”

“What do you want your pancakes with? Honey?”

“Uh- I… I- no… Um, I didn’t— I…” he couldn’t even look at you.

But you gave him a reassuring smile.

“I recall you like them with honey” you smiled, “It’s Thor that likes them with maple syrup.”

“That’s correct” Thor beamed happily.

“Don’t finish it all you hoarder” Pietro quipped as he wrestled with the blond for the bottle of syrup.

He sighed quietly, thankful that they had moved onto the next subject. He served himself his cup of coffee and just when he was going to turn around, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and that gently traveled all the way down his side and caused him to shiver.

He looked at you with daggers in his eyes before checking on the rest that were focused on eating and didn’t notice anything, thankfully. You just look at him and chuckled, before handing him a plate with neatly piled up pancakes with honey and some a small mix of berries you knew he liked.

“I didn’t know all Gods were so ticklish, I thought it was a Thor thing” you whispered. “…Good to know.”

You might as well have buried him alive after that. But, to his surprise you didn’t tell anyone. No one brought it up, not even Thor, who was already painfully aware of how cripplingly sensitive Loki was. No, and the anticipation killed him for the next day or two.

You didn’t bring it up once until one night you had the entire compound to yourselves. The doctor Foster had invited Thor over to «watch movies», not that anyone bought that for a second, the Scarlet Witch had gone on a date with the Vision, Barnes and Rogers were out on a party thing and had taken the Maximoff brother with him to further introduce him as part of the team. So, it was you and Loki completely alone.

You were reading on the couch on the weirdest positions, with your head upside down and the book inelegantly hanging on the air as you red upside down with your back arched as it seemed you’d fall out of the couch any second.

He grinned. It was the perfect chance to get you back. He made sure to be very quiet as he approached you and moved very slowly so you wouldn’t notice him —human earbuds were a blessing for his mischief, but they were not infallible— and right when he was towering over you. He squeezed both your sides.

“AAAAAAHHH!” you screeched as you fell off the couch.

Loki looked over to where you were laying on the floor where you had a hand over your heart.

“Loki! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You scolded him.

What? No blush, no squeaky voice, no stuttering, no nervous shifting or even a giggle? No nothing? Were you that good at playing dumb? No way.

“What was that for?”

“I am sorry, I simply can’t resist when someone is vulnerable like that” Loki shrugged it off and sat on the couch, hoping you wouldn’t ask him to elaborate. “What are you reading?”

You sat back up next to him and showed him the baby blue book with pink letters and a couple kissing on the cover. One of those romance novels you liked.

“Is that the one you told me about?” Loki asked.

“It’s the one” you grinned and noticed the book beside him. “What are you reading?”

“Just old Asgardian poetry” he said, showing you the book, despite knowing you don’t speak Asgardian. He noticed the look you gave him, with an arched eyebrow and a smug grin, “It’s old even for me. Just old love poems.”

Your eyes sparkled like absolute diamonds, and you scooted closer to him, your face just inches from his. “Can you read one to me?”

He felt his cheeks flush at your excitement, and the clumsiness. But he cleared his throat and opened it on the poem he was reading. But he decided to be smug and read it just like it showed, in old Norse.

“Oh, so funny.” You growled and jabbed his sides.

Loki nearly jumped out of his skin and barked out a laugh. A laugh that didn’t go unnoticed given you quickly followed that same movement that had made him squirm. He very did a very poor job at concealing his reaction.

His brain quickly felt fuzzy, he could feel his restrained laughter echoing in his chest, and even still a few snickers were slipping out. His arms felt like worms just clumsily trying to find your hands to push you away. His face was impossibly hot and surely a dark shade of red at this point. His mind was on its knees begging for him to succumb and allow his body to laugh. And that’s exactly what he did when your hands sneaked past his arms and gently wiggled against the skin on his armpits.

“Wahahait! Stohohohop that!” he laughed.

“So that’s what your laugh sounds like” you teased him. “Hm… it’s actually kinda cute.”

“Stohohop this or ehehehehelse!” he latched his hands to your forearms but found that he didn’t even have the strength in himself to push you away.

Maybe it was that subliminal fear that he knew how fragile humans were. Maybe he was just that stupidly ticklish. Or… maybe your fingers were warm, and soft… and you had never given him this much attention.

He had fallen back on the couch, and you sat on his waist, straddling him with your legs on each side, and your hands were now exploring every bit of his torso to see what got him to laugh the hardest, your eyes were looking for every reaction, and your words were dedicated solely to tease him. He truly had you all for himself right now.

And it was driving him crazy.

“Mohohohortal! Cease this ahahahahat once!” he cackled. “It’s ahahahahan ordeheher!”

“Oh?” you smiled in a made that made his insides tingle, “I don’t think you’re in any position to make that call~”

Your thumbs dug into his hipbones that made him arch his back as he let out a loud screech and followed by a stream of guffaws. You laughed along with him, and it almost made this torture worth it.

Worth it, not more bearable.

“Plehehehease, no more! I surrender!” he laughed as he clumsily slapped your forearm in what he had learned was a sign of giving up.

“Wait, seriously” you asked, a bit surprised that you had actually gotten to him.

“Yehehehes, please, I yieheheheld!”

And thank gods it worked. You immediately stopped tickling him and helped him sit back up.

“You okay there?” you smiled at him, and his only response was tackling you to try getting some well-deserve revenge.

Ever since that night you had tormented every once in a while, by tickling him silly whenever you felt like it. But somehow you always had the decency to make it behind closed doors, where no one could see him laughing like an idiot at the mercy of a mortal simply tickling him. And… laying on your bed at late hours was very much worth it, the books he brought to read for you could always wait.

Loki and you chatted for a few hours and soon you sober up enough which relaxed Loki enough, but he noticed your conversation turned more melancholic, contrasting with your grumpy drunk rant earlier. You talked about your family, old jobs, and a department you owned before moving in on the compound.

“Can I tell you something funny?” you smiled sadly, and he nodded. “I miss being ticklish.”

“Well darling, I think that’s been enough alcohol for you.” Loki said as he grabbed the bottle and made it vanish away from you.

“I mean it!” you laughed.

“You’re insane.”

“It’s… I used to laugh so easy… Now every poke, every squeeze, every jab…” you poked your side and your finger sunk in your skin. “It’s… I don’t know… absorbed? I don’t feel anything like I used to.”

He remembered, the time you tickled him silly, how he attempted to get revenge, and how poorly it ended for him.

He latched his hands to your sides and squeezed you thoroughly. He crawled his hands over your belly, he pinched your ribs, and skittering his fingers under your arms. He experimented on every inch of your body.

But at most you gave him a soft breathy laugh, more amused than ticklish induced.

“Sorry Loki, I’m not that ticklish” you smiled trying to be apologetic, but you seemed more amused.

Your armed stretched and wrapped in circles around his bicep to pin his arm upward and still stretched enough to reach and tickle under his arm.

Needless to say, this time he didn’t get a break so easily.

“I doubt there is any actual downside to being the way you are” Loki encouraged you, “I’d give anything to not be… you know…”

“Cripplingly ticklish?” you smiled and elbowed his side making his face flush.

Norns, where had the days gone when he used to be a charming silver-tongued flirt? He used to be swooning men, women, and mythical beings alike, but your silly teasing for some reason had him blushing like a young boy.

“I-It’s… not how I would have phrased that…”

“I would” you cut him off with a giggle and poked his ribs, making him jump and barely hold back a squeak. A squeak.

“Right… Nowhere near the point I was trying to make” he sighs.

“I know… I just miss that intimacy” you sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, tickling was fun when I was little, it’s a nice way of being close to others” you sighed as you rested your head against his shoulder. “And I wish I could have that. Usually I get «no, it’s unfair since you’re not ticklish» and well… No more fun for me.”

Close to others.

He gulped at the warmth of your body as you leaned on him. His heart was racing, his hands were sweaty, his face was burning, he felt a knot in his throat and his breath was hitching.

“Tickle me then.”

“What did you say?!”

What did he say?!

Loki had been through the toughest training regimes growing up, he’d been deadly injured in battle countless time before he even turned 1000 years old, he’d withstand the most merciless tortures, and had been clinically dead more than once. But ever since he was little the one thing he couldn’t stand, was getting tickled. It was so bad to the point where the only people who could tickle him were his parents and Thor… who also had the advantage of being about three times stronger than Loki.

He remembered vividly the last time he was tickled past his limit he had lost control of his magic and unintentionally sent Thor to the healing room for two days (although he had been too proud to admit it had been an accident). The fact that you had left your last encounter tickling him unscathed was a miracle.

“Are you serious?” you asked him, looking at him suspiciously.

Truthfully, he didn’t know if he was. He was so convinced he hated being tickled, that he couldn’t understand why the idea actually felt… Exciting? Appealing? He tried convincing himself it was just the idea of having your hands on him.

“Yes, how bad can it really be?” Loki nearly wanted to die when he felt his voice crack in nervousness, and he had to clear his throat. “You’re just a human, after all.”

“Oh, is that so?” you chuckle. “Mm, I might take you on that offer then.”

You squeezed his side and his breath hitched.

“W-Wait, don’t!” he gasped and grabbed your hand.

“Oh, here better?” you grinned and used your other hand to squeeze above his knee, which made him jolt and grab your other hand by reflex.

“Gods, you do not make this easy” he chuckled softly.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable” you smiled genuinely. “I still appreciate the intention.”

The disappointed look on your face was all the motivation he needed, he pulled you towards him and sat facing you, guiding your hands to his sides as he felt his face burning. How terminally insane had he gone?

“Do it before I change my mind” he said firmly.

“Pfft!” you giggled, “You’re crazy.”

“It would seem so” he smiled. “Let’s get this over with…”

You chuckled and you started skittering your fingernails along his sides. Loki’s jaw tensed immediately as he felt his lips started twitching upward.

“Aww… you’re so ticklish, Loki” you smiled as you kept tracing your fingers up and down his sides, from his hips to his upper ribs. “It’s so charming.”

He cursed his choice of wardrobe today, and Midgardian fashion in general, he could have used a good layer of his Asgardian leather armors. Now a cotton shirt and black jeans served him very little as your finger tormented his sides.

And he was starting to giggle already.

“Yohohohou’re such a pehehehehest!”

“C’mon… it is pretty cute how you laugh,” you smiled, “your voice is so deep but your giggles are so light.”

“I’m nohohohot cute! Hehehe- Hey! Dohohohn’t touch thehehehere!” he giggled when your hands wiggled towards the sides of his belly.

“Oh, your pwetty tummy is so ticklish, isn’t it?” you cooed doing bloody baby talk, “You so cute~”

“Stohohohohop!” he guffawed. “Do nohohot patronize mehehehe!”

He hated how well you had learned how sensitive his stomach was. You had tickled him about three times total prior to this peak of insanity, but the weak spot that was his entire abdomen didn’t go unnoticed from the first time.

“I’m sorry, it’s so hard not to tease you when you have such a cute way of laughing.”

“I’m nohohohohot! Stop sahahaying that!” he protested between laughs.

“You should see yourself” you smiled at him. “The way you scrunch up your nose and stick your tongue out ever so slightly is so endearing!”

“Shuhuhuhut up!” he laughed as he bent over to try protecting his belly from your fingers.

You were being so gentle to him, simply skittering your fingers over his shirt. Being anyone else, that might have just gotten a few giggles out, but he was so ridiculously ticklish, especially there. That this delicate taunt to the skin had him hysterical.

“No mohohohore!” he pleaded, “Not thehehehere!”

“Not where?” you asked innocently. “Here?”

And you poked gently over the patch of skin right below his navel.

“Cuhuhut it out! Gehehet away from my stomahahahach!” he cackled, “I’m behehegging you!”

For some reason you decided to listen and move from his gut, moving to poke and knead his ribs, even doing those unbearable ticklish pinches around him.

You had a hellish ability to have him in stitches.

It kept going for a while, you would explore a spot, have him giggling like a child and then move onto the next to start over, not giving him a chance to get used to any sensation or spot.

“Dahahahahahahahaharling, plehehease!” he laughed, “thahahat’s so bahahahad!”

Seemingly that phrased worked and it stopped you giving him the chance to catch his breath, he placed a hand over his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he tried refilling his lungs with air.

“You little imp!” Loki panted “I was being so nice to you!”

“So was I” you smiled, “I’ve tickled you before, you know how bad it can be.”

Surely you were right, but the way you said it, almost like a promise, made Loki’s cheeks flare up, not that it would’ve been noticeable given how his face was flushed from laughing.

“You’re a menace” he chuckled, as he ruffled your hair “How come I’ve grown so fond of a little nuisance like yourself?”

“What can I say? I’m irresistible like that” you laughed as you rested your head against his arm.

He chuckled as he felt a lingering warmth spreading from where you were resting against his arm to his chest.

“Maybe you are” he sighed with a smile. If only you knew.

“Loki… can I ask you something?” you looked up at him.

“What is it?”

“Are you happy… living here?” you asked. “Or… have you never thought of running away?”

His face darkened. It made sense, but the idea of you thinking of him as a potential traitor stung worse than every awful thing said to or by him in stupid fights with Thor or his parents when the arguments got heated.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you lived in a castle, with luxury, prestige, fame and power” you spoke, “isn’t this too little for you? Don’t you feel trapped?”

Now that reasoning he didn’t expect. He smiled at you fondly.

“You make me sound like a spoiled brat” he chuckled.

“Aren’t you?” you chuckled.

“Of course not, I am the epitome of humility” he claimed, making you laugh. “But… answering to your question… I used to feel trapped, every day I’d be plotting my escape, how to make my great escape.”

“And we won't hear a word they say…” you chuckled.

“What?” he smiled.

“Nothing, The Great Escape is a song, continue” you smiled.

“And trust me… at first… I tried, they didn’t take long to catch me analyzing their security systems and patrolling schedules in a chance to sneak out. I was given so many last warnings and caused Thor so much trouble. Until… eventually I realized… I had nowhere to run to” Loki spoke sadly, “And eventually I stopped trying, this was all I had, and I had to make the best of it. At least my brother was around…”

“Aw, so you do care about Thor” you smiled as you nudge his side.

“I did not say that, and you are not to tell him that” Loki spoke in a fake seriousness. “His ego is big enough as it is.”

“Oh, you’re criticizing him about his big ego.” You laughed, and Loki’s heart fluttered, “You should tell him, he would be very happy that his little brother loves him.”

“Perhaps I will one day” Loki smiled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

“Diva” you muttered under your breath, making Loki chuckle.

“…Eventually I resigned to living here,” he continued. “And one day, the Incorporation of Mutant Program was introduced.”

“I’m still not over the fact that we were named the IMPs” you laughed, making Loki snicker.

“Are you kidding? That was the only thing I considered salvageable of you all at the time.” Loki joked, earning a poke on the ribs from you, “…Among the other Avengers I was requested to instruct the recruits. Which I refused to do.”

“And then you met me” you smiled.

“And then I met you.” Loki agreed. “Which made it all more bearable, you at least provided me with some challenge and entertainment.”

“That’s a really twisted way to say you like me” you chuckled.

If you only knew…

“Would you believe me if I said I did?”

“That’s fair.”

The triggered something in him, a moment of bravado that made him want to risk everything and tell you.

“Are you sure of that?” he asked, as he gently placed a finger under your chin, and pulled for you to look at him. “Even if I said you drive me completely crazy?”

Oh, the look of shock that adorned your now blushing features was delicious.

“Even if I said that I think about you on every waking moment, and that just for the sake of that smile of yours I’d withstand the most barbarous tortures… That for the longest time now you’ve had my heartstrings wrapped around your fingers, playing me like a puppet at your will just for the sake of you one day maybe looking at me the way I look at you.”

“What…? Wh— L-Loki… I— you—!” you stuttered.

Your face was red, but you didn’t seem repelled by his confession. Thank goodness. He thought maybe giving you some time to organize your words was the best thing he could do.

“Why me?” you finally asked.

“Why not?”

“I’m not particularly strong, powerful or attractive” you stated. “Even among just the other recruits.”

“I beg to differ, it takes a lot to render a god helpless like you did earlier.”

“Because you allowed me to” you retorted.

“Because I am crazy about you” Loki said gently.

“Why?”

“You’re stubborn, you get on my nerves all the time, you question and defy my authority every chance you have, and you have no fear of the consequences of crossing a god, especially one with my history.” Loki chuckled. “That takes a lot of courage.”

You smiled at him shyly, and oh gods, the amount of self-control it took not to tackled you and kiss the daylights out of you was ridiculous.

“You are funny, and witty, you have these innocent eyes that make me want to blindly believe you every time you pull one of your stupid pranks on me.”

“And you fall every time” you smiled as the pink shade returned to your cheeks.

“I fall every time” he whispered with a gentle nod. “I fall every time you smile, every time you laugh and every time you look at me as if I was someone interesting and worth getting to know better.”

“You are worth getting to know better… Hell, you’re worth risking a friendship for…”

“Risking a friendship— Mmph?!”

Before he could process what you had done he was already melting against your lips that were sweetly pressed against his.

He felt your fingers sneaking behind him, brushing gently against his neck, which made him laugh softly against the kiss before they continued their journey to his head, where they started playing with his hair in a way that caused him to swoon. In return he placed his hands on the small of your back, brushing his thumbs against you.

And you let out a giggle.

“What was that?” he asked amused.

“W-Wait, do it again!” You smiled brightly.

Loki smiled and brushed his fingers gently across your back and you let out a little giggle.

“It tickled!” You exclaimed.

“Oh did it…?” he smiled and experimented by gently scratching your sides and belly, just soft caresses with his blunt nails over your skin.

And you were giggling like a happy kid.

“Would you look at that…” Loki taunted you. “The little springy mortal is ticklish after all.”

You just rested against his chest as he tickled you, not protesting or squirming at all, just happy giggles. He supposed it made sense, pokes, squeezes, and jabs did nothing, but your skin was still sensitive enough to react to caresses, and it turned out it was all he needed. He took his sweet time exploring every little spot on your body that made you giggle.

Perhaps tickling was fun after all.

| Masterpost |