#❅ [MUSINGS] FROST // if i have to PROVE MYSELF? then i WILL. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

intensitystoner · 3 years

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Scribble for @sifkiweek

Day 2 - AU

~2,000 words (attempt at lil’ humour)

Jotunheim was nothing but ice on the surface, such a vast layer over the original soil of the planet that most forms of life couldn't survive here. The few cold-bearing pines that arched towards the sky heedless of the chilling storms had been here long before the Jotunn arrived and the winter they brought along killed all other creatures and plants; this was one of the few superfluous facts that Sif knew, besides ways to find food on foreign land or to recognise the enemy.

Instead of lore, she excelled at warfare: this is what brought her here with the golden armies of Asgard, to take over control and gift the land with their culture and technology. She saw this as a great opportunity to prove worthy of her title. Many people had doubts about her, some had the most insulting accusations. She deemed it wise to stabilise her reputation at this opportunity by delivering a few Frost Giant heads back into the camp from the solo scouting mission she volunteered for among others.

That said, there had been no Giants in sight for what felt hours of wandering in the bone-bursting chill. The ever-present snow gnawed its way under the protective layers of her neck-high armour and padded cloak. Valiant Sif soon got bored of the monotonous rows of icebergs, ice valleys, ice canyons and ice plains. She started looking for caves, through the derivation that the giant inhabitants must be hiding away in fear of her. She ventured into a cavity under a cliff, with icicles hanging off from it like a coarse beast's fangs. She crept bravely inwards in the deepening dark, stumbling occasionally as she tried keeping a hand against the wall, determined that such a difficult place must be a hideout, and she would bring back the desired slain heads from here if it killed her. But Norns, how deep were those miserable beasts tucked away?

She startled when a small light flashed into her eyes, but she quickly figured out that it was the end of the corridor beyond a bend, and with breaths eased, she stepped outside.

Almost immediately, splashing of water hit her ears. Frowning at the peculiarly misplaced sound, she turned to observe the thick bundle of mist. Then she recoiled and reached for her sword, although she hesitated to believe what she perceived: there, in the middle of the snow field, was a steaming pool, and in it, a Frost Giant crouching, presumably washing something.

There were so many peculiarities about this that she couldn't enumerate them at once. So she settled with carefully drawing her sword and creeping up on the vile being for a long awaited death match for valour.

Her hand was halfway towards the handle when a crude bellow interrupted:

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, barging in like that? Can't you see I'm defenceless?"

Astonishment made her hover for a moment, but she quickly remedied it by swinging the blade into an attack stance before her. Encouraged by the comforting metal in her grasp, she responded:

"I will never trust your word or your demeanour, monster! Prepare yourself, for this is the last day you see this meagre sunlight!"

"How dare you?" came the low hiss as an answer.

Vengeful assault it is, then. Her eyes narrowed in preparation for the well expectable offence, her muscles tensed as the figure moved.

When he stood, she noticed three things consecutively: the giant, uniquely, had pitch dark hair of shoulder length; he was but the size of an Aesir, the scrawniest Jotunn she had seen; and – she gasped – he was naked, and his nakedness didn't stop below the hips as he rose, eventually presenting himself in his entire unveiled glory.

"You've got some nerve, pointing that measly stick at me, Asgardian," said the not-so-giant one with hands on his hips like he weren't as bare and plain as a newborn.

Well, plain wasn’t entirely accurate, as he wore the intricate carvings of his kin all over the body, smooth curves following the muscles and other significant features – quite elegantly sculpted, at least for a barbaric Jotunn build, she thought with some untoward warmth throbbing in her temple. In this critical moment when life or death could be decided within a single breath, half of her attention got wasted on not to glance where his fingers on those unbelievably narrow hips were pointing.

"Are you perhaps dull?" mused the creature then and gestured with a full arm towards the cave entrance, forming each word clearly: "Make your way back where you came from, and I'll grant you mercy this one time; solely because I'm past an especially tiresome group hunt with imbeciles."

The insulting tone stirred Sif out of her stun.

"Or better," she spat, "I'll be the one to hunt you down, and we'll see who's dull. I'll let you get armed now and face me properly for the slaying. Move out, be quick about it!"

The measly but impudent Giant – or whatever it was, she was less and less sure – laughed at her soundlessly.

"All right," he said when he regained control over his breaths, "I see how we stand. But I know one even better." With eyes wide, he bent closer to share the excitement. "Getting armed to spar with you would be a waste of time. I'll fight you off unclothed like this."

She could have exploded from the perky glint in his eyes and the spread arms. Though she tried to stay untouched, anger – so she named the sensation – heated up her cheeks.

"You will learn your place soon enough," she promised mostly to herself, but she remained where she was for now, unsure of what to do: a victory against someone exposed and weak like this was not what she could have bragged about at home, and especially not if this was the only thing she brought back today.

"Oh, I’m sure it’ll be an easy win for you. If you climbed this high in the palace of gods, you won't even break a sweat killing someone like me, will you?"

So that’s what the game was about. He knew very well that her honour wouldn't let her fight an unarmed being, and he evaded the battle this way. No wonder he was trying to get away; with his size, he must have been a weak link, probably subject to continuous scorn. And his marks-

Dumbfounded, she lowered her sword and took a step closer for a better look, meanwhile noting how the movement didn’t even break his infinitely bored posture.

"A royalty," she breathed staring at the curved lines on his forehead, symbols for a crown or horns according to Aesir scripts. "You're meant for the throne? How is that possible? You're so-"

"Majestic, indeed," he cut in.

"Well, not quite-"

"I get it, knightess, you're wondering: how can such an eloquent being be found among barbarians?" The tiny Jotunn presented himself with both arms while speaking, in a languid stride towards the side of the steaming pool, undisturbed by Sif as she smoothly followed his procession with relentless steps and keen eyes. "Could the land of Frost Giants ever nurture something as refined, as poised, as glamorous as this? Could they hide something that no codices in the golden halls of Asgard tell about? Let me soothe your wonder: they can't. Yes, I am Laufey's son; yes, I will have the throne of Jotunheim, and then woe to all that have wronged me. But no, these brutes have no mind to hold me as the jewel in the swamps of their miserable existence,” he boasted while heading for a bundle of clothes on a cleared rock. “I have nurtured my own self, my own talents: everything you're ogling now has been grown through sheer discipline-"

He was about to bend down for the leathers when she stepped in; but before her blade would have stirred, his arm whipped towards her, and she grew motionless as something sharp dug into her neck. His face was languid, his eyelids low over his crimson look at her.

"I merely wish to dress, milady," he cooed like he was victim to the threat. "Won't you allow me this one boon?"

"It's Warmaiden for you, beast," she snarled as her breath let loose again. "And you better learn your place before you think again that I'm ogling anything."

She hid her relief over the fact that she had a voice, her skin intact, though the sharp thing was still pressed tight against her throat. And where in the Nine had he been hiding it up to now?

"I may grace you with your name on my lips, if you give mine due respect,” he replied while reaching for his clothes once again. “Namely, I am Loki, third son of Laufey, would-be King of-" His lofty words merged into a quiet snarl as his lowering arm got smoothly replaced with hers, the much longer sword keeping his chin up. "You may address me as Your Highness, shield maiden."

He uttered the title with such contempt that for an insulted moment, his insightful knowledge failed to catch her attention. But the epiphany reached her before she'd have retorted, and her sharp breath turned into a threatening hiss.

"How do you know so much?" she demanded.

And he laughed, once again that modest hissing sound under his breath, as if he weren't even doing it to mock her, and then he continued obtaining his clothes despite the blade grazing his skin.

"By reading. I taught myself runes, carving them into the snow," he admitted, though his tone felt a lot like he was but jesting. "I used the sharpened bones of my slain ancestors."

"You're an outcast, aren't you?" she inquired with her deepest scorn, just to retort.

That seemed to hit the mark.

“I'm a rightful heir of Jotunheim, and I'll live up to it," snapped the annoyingly fine-wired creature while winding the girdle and kilt around his hips with irate movements.

The Jotunn soldiers Sif had seen always settled with this amount of clothing, so she eyed him in mild surprise as he went on throwing the skin of a soft-furred beast around his shoulders, with her blade following the movements in loutish idleness.

"You may not live up to anything your people don't accept," she pointed out meanwhile. "I hear that resilience is power in this realm, which you seem to lack miserably. Your nation has yet to adopt some higher values."

"Higher values," the creature repeated with honest amusement. "You could list a hundred of those in one sitting, I bet."

"Tell me then, if you’ve read so much, what do you hold for one?"

"There is no light I could shed in your head, Asgardian," he said bending towards her to emphasize the statement. "Your mind is already set, the Allfather's teachings too deeply rooted within you since your birth."

"I only first saw Asgard after I came of age," she protested, too quickly before she'd have considered whether she owed him this excuse.

He took it in with a surprised arch of eyebrows. His exhale was audible when he turned to leave.

"Then you may have a glimmer of hope. Don't waste it. The nearest horde is wandering east of here, by the way, full of the dullest-"

"Waste what exactly?" she snapped while hurrying to catch up with him before he could elope or have time to catch her off-guard. "Do you really hold yourself so-"

"Fine, I'll be your guide. You could have just asked nicely, you know. You should be well aware of the benefits of courtesy, since you come here with your people to preach about it."

“I have no need of a guide,” she announced as they walked on side by side.

“Don’t you, now? How long exactly have you been circling around in the area again? Not even noting that you passed the most significant landmarks you’ll ever find here twenty-four times altogether? And this before I grew bored of you and retreated believing to be rid of you for good?”

“I don’t need a blabbering guide, like you,” she corrected, her look challenging.

“And yet here we are,” he announced brightly. “If you’re not attentive, you’ll find yourself my spouse after I obtained the throne.”

“You’ll regret that a thousand times, I’m not marriage material.”

“Challenge accepted.”

An abrupt silence followed as their thoughts caught up to the mutual jest, filled with unintended smiles. Not yet giving it much significance, they carelessly trudged on in the snow on their joint path.

#sifkiweek21 #sifki #da orky writing

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ksclaw · 2 years

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I posted 1.061 times in 2021

45 posts created (4%)

1016 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 22.6 posts.

I added 507 tags in 2021

#rise of the guardians - 108 posts

#lmao - 79 posts

#important - 60 posts

#long post - 51 posts

#signal boost - 50 posts

#pitch black - 47 posts

#reference - 41 posts

#donation post - 24 posts

#guardians of childhood - 24 posts

#jack frost - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 120 characters

#my friend who helped me think up the concept thinks that the radioactive unicorn is the saddest of my elemental unicorns

My Top Posts in 2021

For the writing Q, Ebony interacting w Bunny? Like ... talking about the old days and stuff. I guess they'd have pretty different perspectives

Sorry this took a bit XD; It took me a bit to figure out where to go with this, and it turned out a bit one-sided. But hope you enjoy!

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If you asked Bunny for his knowledge about parts of the Golden Age, he would have three things to talk about: The Pooka, the assorted geometric shapes and The Golden General.

With the last, he only knew as much as he did, because of the Brotherhood having worked closely with the man. General Kozmotis Pitchiner had been a fearsome warrior, and a worthy bearer of the First Light. Bunny knew mostly second-hand how he had also been a devoted husband and father.

But ask him in later years, and he would freely admit that he couldn't tell anyone a thing about the Lady Pitchiner. He knew that she had been Wife of the Golden General, mother of Seraphina Pitchiner, and how her life had been lost to Dream Pirates. And even then, he only knew the latter, due to the story Sandy had told them years later.

“Jumped out of a window?”

The Lady Pitchiner, known to others now as Euterpe, the Muse of Lyrical Poetry, paused in her work on the painting she was standing with as she turned to face the Pooka.

If anything, Bunnymund had never met anyone who had looked this outraged about their own death.

“That’s what Sandy told us,” he said. “That you used a doll to trick the Dream Pirates, and then sacrificed yourself-”

“By jumping out of a window?” She repeated, before scowling furiously. “Of course someone like him would think that. I’ll bet my brushes that the damn Tsar orchestrated it!”

“... The pirates?” Bunny said in slight confusion, only to be met with a scoffing noise as the Muse furiously turned back to her painting.

“That I would do something as stupid as that! Sacrificing myself my ass!” She shook her head furiously, picking up color on one of her brushes and moving it across her canvas in a few aggressive strokes.

“I will have you know, that I was doing NO such thing! The only thing getting sacrificed that night was that hideous doll!”

“Hang on a minute…” Bunny said slowly, “I’m sorry, but I think we both got our stories confused…? Whaddaya mean with ‘the Tsar orchestrated’..? I know ya had some doll the size of a child…?” Ebony Pitchiner paused in her work and drew a deep breath, before letting it out in a long, irritated sigh.

“Let me ask you this first: In all the time you spent with the Brotherhood, why was my husband, Kozmotis, the only one worthy to carry the First Light? Out of all the humans?”

The Pooka blinked in surprise at the question. It had been a long time since he’d last thought about the Golden Age, let alone the Brotherhood of the First Light. Still, he took his time to think back, frowning in thought as the Lady Pitchiner worked on her painting, patiently waiting for his response.

“... They found ‘im the most trustworthy.” Bunny finally said. “Despite everything… all the hard battles, all the politics, most o’ the Elders found him trustworthy. Some were apprehensive, because of how close he was with the Tsar, but he proved them wrong somehow.”

“More trustworthy than the Tsar himself.” Ebony said calmly. “Interesting, isn’t it? Now why do you think that is?”

Again, Bunny had to think, and think hard. He had been a mere initiate when the Golden General had first been granted the First Light, and even then… When Bunny thought about it, he recalled hearing about in vague rumors why Lord Pitchiner had gained the trust of the Pooka. While he had been given the First Light back in the day, for handling an incredibly dangerous mission, he had returned the First Light to the Brotherhood.

But why that made him more trustworthy than the Tsar…

Admitting defeat, Bunny finally shrugged helplessly. “What made the Tsar less trustworthy?” He finally asked.

Ebony closed her eyes, seeming to take a moment herself, before letting out a deep sigh.

“His father, the previous Tsar Lunanoff, always liked to say that his son was a good boy, but not a good man.” She said. “Where the older Tsar had respect for traditions of certain things, his son wanted to try and change a lot of things. Traditions, habits, the way things were done… You always had to nearly hit him over the head, with how certain things were supposed to work.”

She snorted softly, opening her eyes as she looked towards the painting, though her eyes were not focused on it.

“When Kozmotis was granted the Light, the Tsar ordered him to give it to him after his mission.”

Bunny felt his jaw drop.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I remember being there for it.” Ebony said, “Kozmotis and I had a private audience with the Tsar. Kozmotis, because he was the General, and I because I was part of the Council. As such, I knew what the Tsar was going to ask. Stars know that I had also advised against it, but-” She rolled her eyes at that. “‘The Tsar knows best.’ So there we were, in the audience chamber, and Kozmotis had just finished his report, telling Tsar Lunanoff how he had defeated a Shadow Hive with the aid of the Light. It had certainly been a great help in taking down the three Leviathans that had taken up residence there. The Star Pilots and the rest of the Army took care of the rest.”

Bunny shuddered slightly at the thought. Shadow Leviathans had been a rare type of Fearlings, known to be the size of a blue whale from Earth. To have to fight one was hard enough to imagine, but three?

“Lunanoff commended him for his victory,” Ebony continued, “noting how he would be well rewarded and blah blah blah, and then…” She sighed. “Then he told Kozmotis to give him the Light.” She shook her head. “Kozmotis said ‘I beg your pardon?’ and then demanded to know why. And Lunanoff replied how this had been planned for a long time. ‘The Brotherhood believe themselves superior, just because they have the Light. We cannot afford to allow anyone to undermine us. Who knows what they will think of doing with the Light, if we allow them to keep it?’”

“But the Light is only a weapon against the Shadows!” Bunny exclaimed indignantly.

“And that was what Kozmotis told the Tsar.” Ebony agreed. “Mind you, he had spent months trying to convince the Brotherhood that he was trustworthy. A part of it was undergoing some of the training that some of the early initiates undergo. I never knew what he learned, mind you, just that he had to go in the first place.”

The Pooka blinked in surprise at that. This was news to him, as well as an explanation for certain things.

“But it allowed him an insight on how the Pooka worked, in regards to the First Light.” Ebony said. “As a result… Well, he told the Tsar to go to hell.”

For the second time during that conversation, Bunny felt his jaw drop.

“... He what?”

The Lady Pitchiner smirked, very much like the cat who had gotten the canary, and a bowl of cream to boot.

“After the Tsar gave his rather outlandish reason for why he felt the First Light should be kept at the palace, Kozmotis looked him in the eye and said, and I quote: 'Begging your pardon, my Tsar, but I find your reasoning ridiculous. I do not know where this idea comes from, and I find it quite insulting that you would demand of me to misuse the trust of the Pooka, that I have worked so hard to earn. I am returning what is rightfully theirs, and you can go to hell!' And just like that,” Ebony waved her brush as if to underline her words, “he stalked right out of there. As his wife, I followed suit of course.” Her smile turned more warm at that.

“I have never been more proud of my husband, than I was at that moment.” She sighed. “Of course, it didn't make him popular with anyone else. Not with the Council, and certainly not with Tsar Lunanoff. In fact, I always suspected that’s one reason he made us move to the Orion Mansion.” She scoffed. “Dreadful place…”

“But that still don’t explain what ya said earlier,” Bunny said, “about the Tsar orchestrating..?”

She huffed. “Image was everything for Tsar Lunanoff. When Kozmotis refused to give him the First Light, he had to show parts of the Council as well as the nobility, that he was the one in control, not Kozmotis. Officially, we were ‘gifted’ the mansion on Orion. Unofficially, we were publicly slapped over the wrist and told we should be ashamed.” Ebony scowled. “And Kozmotis got sent off on mission, after mission, after mission. And he did as he was told, because that was just how it had to be. We both hated it, but we had no choice! We might as well have been wearing gilded shackles, showing off how the Tsar puppeteered us.”

The Lady Pitchiner shook her head in disgust. “I suspect that after my death, the Tsar or the Council circulated how I had sacrificed myself. Kozmotis would have known that I would not have given up like that.” She fell silent at that, looking thoughtfully at her canvas.

“So… What did happen?” Bunny asked, almost hesitantly.

“Seraphina and I had an argument.” Ebony replied quietly. “We never let her go out in the boat alone, not without precautions. The boat had a beacon transmitter, just in case something went wrong, but it had been broken during a meteor shower. Kozmotis meant to fix it, he was a wizard when it came to such things, but he didn’t get a chance before he was called off again.”

She sighed. “Sera wanted to go out. I told her no. It escalated, until she yelled how she hated me, and she ran to her room. She pretended to be asleep when I came to tell her good night. I told her I loved her, and went to bed.”

For a moment, she was silent once again, her gaze more absent now.

“I woke up to the sound of cannon fire and screams. Star stones, which the entire mansion was made of, have a tendency to echo sounds, and I felt like my eardrums were going to burst. I ran to Seraphina’s room, but she was gone. I could instantly guess that she had snuck out. By then, it was too late to go elsewhere. Sera’s room was in a corridor, and the pirates were coming from either side. It was the window or nothing. Unfortunately, my only option was to smash the window. So I grabbed the child-sized doll, a ‘gift’ from the Tsar at that, and used it as a battering ram to smash the glass.”

Ebony closed her eyes, frowning now.

“As fast as I could, I used the curtains and the coverings from Sera’s bed as a makeshift rope. My plan was to try and swing from her window, and over to another, and try to get away from the pirates that way, perhaps get down to the docks and get one of the smaller boats and go after Sera. But as you know…” she gestured to their surroundings. “Things did not go according to plan. I can’t remember if the fabric was torn, or if the pirates sliced at it with their weapons. All I remember, is that I was trying to swing myself to safety… and then I was falling.”

She gave a dry smile at that.

“At least I don’t remember the landing. But I suspect it killed me instantly.”

The Lady Pitchiner then looked at Bunny with a raised eyebrow.

“But I most certainly did not jump.”

19 notes • Posted 2021-04-09 20:22:24 GMT

Just a minor head’s up, since this week will be the Post+ Protest. I’m gonna try and take a break from Tumblr in that time, and if you need me, you can find me over on Pillowfort. You can also check out my Linktree and see where I’ve got other things.

20 notes • Posted 2021-08-03 18:00:24 GMT

Pride Pumpkins and Pride Witches, gonna be available as badges and maybe stickers at J-Popcon at my Artist Alley booth. Due to time restraints I didn’t get all the flags done, but I’m planning on making more for my Redbubble and Society6.

38 notes • Posted 2021-10-13 20:10:03 GMT

Final piece done just in time for @rotgsecretsanta <3

“Nr. 21 - MIM!!! With his past, create an angst piece of homesickness and loss.”

46 notes • Posted 2021-01-06 20:06:51 GMT

When people are like "I don't like that you drew/wrote (insert ship.)”

Me:

51 notes • Posted 2021-01-24 14:53:48 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #lmao #some of them are fucking hilarious

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years

Text

Obi Wan x Padawan Reader Never Lie to Me

Pairing: Sith Obi Wan Kenobi x padawan reader

Summary : Reader misplaces something important and tries to find it before her Master can find out.

Warnings: language, sexual themes, *slight smut*

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Hello my loves! Ok so I absolutely love Sith obi wan but for some reason I struggle to write him. I tried something and hopefully it's not complete trash like I think it is lol anywaaaaaaays enjoy😚

18+ readers only!

*************************************************

Oh this was bad...this was very very bad....

Okay y/n don't freak out, you can hide this! You can totally hide this!!

Fuck no you couldn't

You groaned sliding down the wall of your chambers. How could you be so stupid?! Losing your lightsaber like that?! Did you have a death wish?!

You could only imagine how enraged your master would be.. you shook your head violently dissipating the horrible thoughts.

No no no, it would not come to that becasue you would find it. It probably fell somewhere by your speeder. Yeah it's there for sure.....probably.....

Sighing you stood up and grabbed a cloak to cover your hip and the usual missing weapon spot that hung there.

You couldn't help but imagine all the horrible scenarios that ran through your mind if Master kenobi found out.

One included merciless unending training, not letting you rest for even a moment.

Another image had you bent over his knee whilst he.... ughhh you could already feel the sting.

Your master and you had a...unique relationship to say the least... he was your master in the ways of the dark side, so you had a strict student master dynamic during training.

He took your training very seriously, leaving little room for error. But as some point his punishments got more....creative..

You couldn't help but feel your face heat up remembering that time you screwed up a mission and he saw to your reprimanding. From then on your relationship became more....personal.

He didnt give you any special treatment, and didnt allow any distractions during training. But the times after training...when he would call you to his chambers and.....

You couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat, or two, or twenty, and you couldn't help but to recall those moments..

That scent...

Those whispers..

His fingers.....

"What are you thinking about?" A smooth voice cut through your indecent thoughts like butter. You whipped around startled that the man in question was now standing right behind you.

Quickly you made sure your shields were up, something you had made sure to refine. You didnt want him hearing all your dirty thoughts during training...

"I-I was just thinking about the mission.." you took a step back trying to regain your composure. Why did you always manage to act like a floundering idiot when he was around?!

"Hmm, is it really the mission that has you so flustered?" He mused stepping closer.

"Or something else?"he smirked knowingly.

Bastard, he must've read my thoughts before I realized he was here...

"It's-" you attempted to change the subject before he cut you off.

"And I know you know better than to lie to me don't you?" He said slightly more serious. A familiar dark edge to his voice.

You gulped, "Yes master..."

"I was thinking of other things..." you trail off averting your gaze hoping he wouldnt make you say it out loud.

Although he'd technically seen you naked quite a few times now, you still felt so embarrassed regarding anything or your "intimate moments". This was due mostly to the many embarrassing things he made you do....well ok to be fair you didnt REALLY try to stop him...but the second those moments were over you could barely look him in the eyes.

You felt those familiar warm finger gently lift your chin. You met his deep gaze,

"Speaking of other things...you did rather well on the mission, we were able to conquer the planet thanks to your efforts, so I suppose a reward is in order...dont you agree darling?" He whispered the last part in your ear making you shiver slightly.

Oh how you enjoyed those rewards of his...quite possibly the only time he would treat you gently. Well there were those times he wasnt so gentle either...actually maybe you liked those more...

AH WAIT WHAT AM I DOING, I NEED TO FIND MY SABER!!

You place you hands on his chest and gently push.

"A-actually master I wondered if I might have your permission to leave the ship I..wanted too...look around a bit more before we have to leave!" You hurriedly came up with an excuse.

He stepped back, eyeing you for a moment before nodding his approval, "Alright, be back before nightfall" he warned and continued walking down the hall.

As soon as he was out of sight you let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully he bought that story. You quickly made your way to the ship's exit and onto the lush planet known as Misano.

Normally you would've liked a chance to explore and maybe even sneak some souvenirs back. But you had no time for that now. If you didnt find that saber soon you were toast. And it didnt help that Misano turned from a tropical paradise to a frozen tundra trap by nightfall. It was truly a unique planet.

But you could admire it another time, preferably when your life wasn't on the line...

************************************

You looked up at the setting sky as dread washed over you. You had scoured and searched for your blasted saber for hours but it was no use. You had retraced your steps multiple times and even question some of the citizens to see if they knew anything.

You didnt want to even humor the idea but now it was the most likely truth. Some lowlife had probably picked it up and would soon be rolling in credits.

You pulled your cloak tighter around you as the wind started to pick up. You knew you should start to head back before it got too cold but honestly freezing to death sounded better than whatever punishment you master would enforce...

************************************

You were now full on shivering as you made your way back to the ship. The sun had set long ago and you now knew why everyone kept warning you to get inside. Your boots the only reason you could trudge through the many layers of snow.

You must've questioned every suspicious looking citizen however no luck. Your saber was probably gone forever and on top of that punishment you were sure your master was going to be angry that you disobeyed and stayed out later than he permissed.

Ughh I should just let myself freeze over...

Another half an hour later you finally made it back to the ship. Immediately you dragged yourself through the halls to your room and ordered your droid servant to run a hot bath. You were extremely lucky that master kenobi hadn't spotted you yet.

You could barely feel anything and felt horribly tired. Even the steam rising from afar felt like heaven as it reached your frost bitten skin.

You removed your practically stiff cloak but had no energy for the rest so you plopped fully clothed into the steaming water, immediately sighing in relief as you slowly felt feeling returning to all parts of your body.

You rested your head back and took a deep breath, inhaling the warm air.

*achoo* fuck...

you could already feel your nose becoming stuffed and there was a slight scratch in your throat. Perfect, getting sick was just what you needed.

After you were fully warmed up, you drained the water and lazily wrapped a fluffy towel around you. You felt the exhaustion of the mission plus everything afterwards tenfold as soon as your body hit the mattress.

You spread out lazily letting the cool sheets relax your now warmed body, covers discarded on the floor.

Your eyes drooped slowly closed once, focused on the space by the end of your bed, you tried to fight off sleep but it was proving difficult,

You opened them but slowly they drooped closed again,

The third time however you saw a blurry outline of a man.

"M-master!" Like a rocket you sat up, heart beating out of your chest. You quickly pulled up the towel over your chest.

"Y-you scared me..." You placed a hand over your beating chest trying to catch your breath. You had been too tired to even sense him coming.

He stood with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. "I distinctly remember telling you to be back before dark did I not?" He stepped closer until he was right at the end of the bed.

Oh Crap hes mad.... you sat up a little straighter trying to ignore the fact you were practically naked in front of him.

"I'm sorry master, the time got away from me..." your mouth feeling unnaturally dry as the lie left your lips.

You hated lying to him. Well you hated what usually happened when you lied to him and he found out....

He eyed you silently before leaning over the bed intimidatingly close. He leaned next to your ear before speaking,

"You're lying" a dangerous edge to his voice now

You felt your heart stop and a rush of panic fill you. Fuck fuck fuck.

Slowly he came back into view.

His eyes were a threatning color now. A silent deadly warning to choose your next words carefully. You had just broken his one rule. And he knew...

You felt a million emotions running through you. Fear, for getting caught breaking his most important rule. Shame for being stupid enough to lose something so important. And Guilt for lying to the one person you never ever wanted to lie too...

"Ah I-I'm Sorry!!" You blurted out suddenly. "I-I didn't mean too! But so much was going on with the mission!! A-and I must've been distracted and I swear I tried master I really did! B-but no one knew anything and then it started getting dark and cold a-and I didnt know what to do so I came back, but I didnt want you to be disappointed or mad so I didnt tell you the truth and I'm so so so sorry!!" You bowed your head breathing heavily, hardly realizing that your explanation made no sense. Your eyes shut tightly shielding you from his whatever horrible expression he surely had on his face.

A few moments of dreadful silence passed before you felt him shift.

"Look at me" you barely felt the ghostly touch of his fingers guide your chin up.

You sucked in a nervous breathe when you realized you were only inches from his face. His eyes were dark and penetrating. Whenever he looked at you like this you felt completely exposed. Like he could see right through your soul.

"Now calm down and tell me the truth little one" he said dangerously calm. Sometimes that was even scarier then when he yelled...

Taking a deep breathe you gathered your wits and with a deeply ashamed tone you confessed, "I lost my lightsaber.." you could feel burning at the corner of your eyes but you continued through it, "I looked for it everywhere but..." you looked down again dejectedly. What a dumb apprentice I am.. hes probably so disappointed in me.. "I'm sorry Master.."

You waited for what felt like hours until he spoke, "I know" he said in an even tone.

Your eyes shot open in surprise, "w-what?"

"How many times must I remind you nothing happens without me knowing about it."

"So then..." he knew you were lying all along...

"Yes my apprentice" he grasped your chin slightly harder now but still somehow gentle, "When will you learn..." he slowly ran his thumb over your bottom lip, dragging it down, "that you can't hide anything from me.." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know..I'm sorry, I was just afrai-" he cut you off with a sharp slap to your thigh.

"What have I told you about lying to me?" he caressed your bare thigh making it harder for you to focus.

"That-that I am never to lie to you...no matter what..." your breath hitched as his hand inched closer across your thigh and to your most sensitive area. However just when he was inches away he abruptly removed all contact.

You immediately felt sad at the loss.

"Exactly, and yet you did exactly that" he nodded his head, "I'm disappointed little one, especially since if you had told the truth..." he reached behind him grabbing something and bringing it forward, "you could've saved yourself alot of trouble"

You let out a gasp, "My saber!!" He let you take it from his grasp, you beamed finally feeling whole again.

"But how did you..?" You asked confused where and how he had found it.

"It fell when you jumped on your speeder during the battle" he explained nodding slightly in exasperation.

So this whole time he had it?! And that means he knew all day that you.....

"I shouldnt have lied" you apologized sincerely. "I just didn't want to disappoint you..especially since I did so well on the mission..." you mustered the best regretful expression you could. "Are you angry with me...?" You couldn't help but ask.

After a moment he smiled slightly, resting his rough palm on your cheek, "No..well not anymore, I was more upset that you risked your health by staying out too long, however I do sense your deep regret, so this time I'll let it slide"

Whoa did I hear that correctly, hes going to let it slide?? My master?? Had he hit his head during battle??

"Thank you Master, I promise it won't happen again" you meant it this time.

"Oh I know it wont pet" you shivered at the pet name he called you. He suddenly force pulled you closer until you were basically straddling him. You let out a shriek.

"Because this time.." he placed a firm hand on the back of your neck pulling you in for a possessive kiss.

He pulled away slightly and you felt his hot breathe by your ear, "I'll make sure you remember what happens when you don't." Suddenly you were on you back, towel thrown across the room.

"Whaa what?! I thought you said I was off the hook?!" You blushed fiercely as he force held your hands and legs to each corner and stood back to admire your helpless form.

He smirked wickedly, "I said you were off the hook for staying out too late.. however..." you gasped as you felt invisible fingers begin to tease your most sensitive area.

"For lying to me.." he eyed you with a gaze now hooded with lust and a dangerous glint, "You will be punished until I am certain you've learned your lesson my darling..."

***************************************************Thanks for reading!! I had alot of trouble writing sith obi wan but I tried my best. Let me know if you guys liked this enough and want to see similar Sith obi wan x apprentice fics. Alsoooo 👀if enough people want a mini 18+ continuation of the *cough* punishment.....lemme know🙈

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roseclouds-writes · 3 years

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In the Frosty Air ⛸️

Summary: Lance McClain is impossible to say no to; which is probably why Keith is spending Christmas Eve humiliating himself at their local ice rink.

Inspired by the ‘ice skating’ prompt from @monthlyklance‘s Klancemas prompt list!

Read it on AO3 here!

It was Christmas Eve, and instead of being huddled up in front of a warm fire, Keith stood shivering in a parking lot, waiting.

Strings of lights twinkled in the distance, hanging lazily across the pop-up ice rink that was situated outside the main entrance to the nearby mall, forcing angry shoppers to find another place to park.

Since it first arrived at the mall, Lance had been dancing in excitement at the thought of visiting, but the holiday season proved to be unfairly hectic for his ice skating plans. Both Pidge and Hunk were on holiday with their families, leaving Keith to receive the text that had urged him here tonight.

The ice rink would be packing itself up and moving on tomorrow, and so in spite of himself, Keith had reluctantly agreed to thrust himself into the cold December wind and risk his entire dignity on the ice purely for Lance’s enjoyment.

“Keith!”

The other bounded towards him, not hesitating to wrap him in a hasty embrace. His gloved hands found the back of Keith’s neck, sending a shiver up his spine as they dusted softly over the exposed skin.

Lance pulled back, smiling broadly even as he clasped his hands together to keep them from freezing up. “Man, I can’t wait to get back on the ice,” he said, beaming. “You ready to go?”

Keith couldn’t have been less ready to go. He’d never been ice skating before; hell, he’d never even been roller skating before. Leaving his balance in the hands of a decade-old pair of hire skates was terrifying, and having those hire skates betray him and send him plummeting onto his ass in front of Lance, no less? Mortifying.

Still, he nodded his way towards his demise – surely it couldn’t be that hard.

***

It was.

Even attempting to put the skates on was proving difficult for Keith, who was quickly distracted at the sight of Lance who was now towering over him with the help of the blades beneath his feet.

He could practically feel his legs wobbling and he hadn’t even gotten up yet. Taking his sweet time to tie the laces of his second skate, Keith pondered how long he could stall by pretending he had a keen interest in sitting down, but he quickly faltered at Lance’s sudden presence inches away from his face.

He quirked a brow at the mess of laces in Keith’s hands. “You managing okay over here, buddy?”

“Yes.” No.

Lance bobbed down with ease to finish lacing Keith’s skates for him. “You have them way too loose, man. It's like you want to fall over or something.”

Or something, preferably. Still, no matter how tightly Lance managed to tie them, Keith was still sure his ass would be doomed to meet the icy floor at some point.

“So, are you more of an ice hockey kind of guy,” Lance quizzed, “or are you gonna surprise me with some triple axel spins out there?” There was a lingering smirk on his lips.

“I...” He was expected to spin? “Yeah, uh, totally,” he said, opting to ignore the crack in his voice. God, he was about a second away from outing himself as an ice-virgin.

Lance lifted himself back up with a hearty laugh, seemingly satisfied with his quick lacework and the growing blush on Keith’s cheeks. “Alright, come on, grandma,” he said finally, offering an arm for Keith to take.

Keith snapped his previously agape mouth shut. “I can get up myself.”

“Uh-huh,” Lance hummed, “you probably can with your walking stick, but I’m not waiting forty-seven years for that to happen.”

Keith grumbled to himself, averting his eyes from the outheld arm that spread his already prominent flush down the length of his neck.

“Come on, dude,” Lance said, “it’s pretty obvious it’s your first time, so let go of your pride for a second and let me hold you.”

“I don’t—” Keith huffed. It wasn’t as though he was going anywhere on his own, and settling for this sounded a bright side better than sliding all over the ice. “Fine.”

He snatched the hand out in front of him, pulling himself up impulsively fast and stumbling right back down onto the bench.

Lance barely repressed a snigger. “Cool your jets, Keith,” he said, chuckling and steadying Keith with his other hand. “Here.”

He hoisted Keith slowly up by his elbows, most definitely noting the way Keith’s knees immediately buckled inwards as he found himself entirely too wobbly for his own liking.

Lance grinned. “This is the easy part, hotshot, we’re not even on the ice yet.”

Keith stomached the urge to smush his hand into Lance’s face – he wasn’t losing the only form of support he had, even if it was embarrassing to be clinging to Lance as firmly as he was.

Lance watched him expectantly, looking between Keith’s eyes and his skates.

Keith scowled, meeting Lance’s eyes with feigned confidence. “I don’t know how to move,” he admitted.

Lance pursed his lips together to stop himself from laughing again at Keith’s expense. “For now, just walk.”

Right.

Keith was less than graceful, taking strangely raised steps towards his destination, but it wasn’t too much of an effort to get from the safety of the bench to the railing of the rink without the slipperiness of the ice hindering his movements.

“Now, you could hold onto the railing like a baby,” Lance began, nodding towards a group of young children who were doing just that, “or, you can hold onto me and join the big boys in the center,” he said with a waggle of his brows.

Keith glared at his support, then released a deep sigh. He supposed he would have to settle for the oncoming barrage of digs, too. “Just help me on, idiot.”

Lance bit back a grin and stepped onto the rink, turning so that they were facing each other. Great, as if his ice prowess wasn’t already intimidating, he was also going to show off and skate backwards.

He pulled Keith gently onto the ice, taking care to hold him at the small of his back while his other hand clasped tightly onto Keith’s.

“Alright, now you want to glide,” Lance instructed simply, as though Keith had any idea what that meant. “Like this,” he said, demonstrating the movement on the spot. “Push yourself gently forwards, and make sure you pick up your feet a little at the end of each glide.”

If Keith had never experienced the instability of a newborn giraffe, he had now. His legs flayed apart the moment he moved from his stationary position, skidding on the ice as his body fell backwards, only barely caught by Lance’s quick embrace.

“Woah, woah, keep your weight forward,” Lance said, inching his hand up Keith’s back to prop him back up. If the ice wasn’t enough to get Keith’s legs trembling, that certainly did it.

At this point, Keith was convinced he could have left his jacket at home, because the heat that shot through him at Lance’s touch was already making his forehead sweat against his bangs. Whatever. He could blame that and the rosy tint on his cheeks on the cold, right?

Pushing off slowly this time, he intertwined his fingers with Lance’s even as the thickness of their woolly gloves insisted that he didn’t. He half-expected a snarky comment, but Lance only tightened his own grip.

“That’s it!” He cried triumphantly. “That was good, Keith!”

By ‘good’ he assumed Lance had meant that it was impressive that Keith hadn’t tumbled over this time, but regardless, Keith kept a growing smile to himself as he found his balance.

“Now let’s see if you can overtake these third graders,” Lance mused, immediately receiving a light smack to the gut that wildly unbalanced Keith and forced him into a humiliating dance before sending him crashing down onto the horribly icy ground beneath him.

And Lance laughed, really laughed, snorting even as he carefully picked Keith back up onto his feet and kindly ignored the way that Keith was sporting more of a soft gaze than the glare he had intended.

“That was really something,” Lance managed through light giggles, allowing his hands to stray from Keith’s for a moment to brush frosted shavings from Keith’s now wet jeans. “Are you gonna call the Olympic scouting team, or should I?”

If anyone was getting scouted for the Olympics, it was Lance. That boy could perform a perfect triple-apple-whatever right here in the parking lot of their local mall and Keith wouldn’t even be surprised.

Ignoring the little girl who passed Keith with an obnoxious twirl and resisting the urge to send another swat to Lance’s stomach, Keith flicked stray hairs from his eyes with a shake of his head. “Would you just shut it and hold my damn hand?”

Lance narrowed his eyes, but his lips were stretched into a warm smile. “Pushy,” he said, linking their hands back together. “Better?”

Keith gave him a curt nod, pulling all his focus onto the ice they were ever so slowly moving across. Whether he appreciated the close contact for the safety or the fluttering feeling that Keith had grown acquainted with over the course of their friendship was irrelevant.

He was painfully aware that they looked the like the town’s newest couple on their first date, leaning close to each other, foreheads almost touching as Lance guided Keith forwards with little bouts of encouragement; but truthfully, he didn’t mind one bit.

“You know,” Lance said in a hushed voice, watching Keith’s slowly improving movements, “I think you might actually be getting the hang of this.”

“Just—” Keith wavered at the comment. “Don’t let go yet,” he muttered.

“Enjoying my company that much, huh?” Lance teased.

Yes.

***

The music that crackled out of the twenty-something-year-old sound system grew softer as night really set in. Most families had left by now, only a few couples and friends remaining on the rink.

"Oh man," Lance breathed as they dropped their speed, "lugging you around has me spent."

"Who's the grandma now?" Keith snickered under his breath.

"Oh, don't you even,” Lance warned, “I could drop you right here, right now."

As if to prove his point, Lance took his hand off Keith's back and moved up ahead of him, leaving about a foot between them and forcing Keith to stumble around until he managed to clutch onto the barrier.

Lance offered a smug applause. "Very smooth, Kogane."

“Get back here and help me off,” Keith said, “dealing with you all night has me spent, too.”

Lance gave a mock gasp but held out a helping hand to Keith, who took it quickly and let the other lead him back onto dry ground.

“Here, take a seat and unlace,” Lance instructed. “I’ll get us some water.”

Keith released a shaky breath as he settled onto the closest bench. His heartbeat was rattling against his chest and he had barely moved beyond a power walk (or skate) since they'd been out on the rink. In hindsight, Keith was exceptionally thankful for the fact that Pidge and Hunk hadn’t been available tonight; otherwise, he may very well have been teased out of existence a good twenty minutes ago.

Lance returned with two paper cups, handing one off to Keith who gulped it readily and set it down beside him.

“We should do this again sometime,” Lance said as he took a seat next to Keith. “I bet with another hour or two of lessons from yours truly, you’ll be whizzing and leaping all over the place.” There was an air of sarcasm to his voice, but Keith only laughed, tucking his hands between his thighs to stop them from so obviously shaking.

He met Lance’s eyes with a sheepish smile. “I’d like that.” And god, his voice came out so sickeningly sweet that it almost made him cringe.

Lance seemed to take in every feature of Keith’s embarrassing expression before turning his head away the moment a smile crept onto his lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod, turning back to Keith with a beautifully infuriating smirk. “I mean, I suppose you’re not the most insufferable student I’ve had.”

Keith nudged him in the ribs, relishing in the little yelp he earned in response.

He began to ramble about how Keith should ‘be thanking him’ and how he would ‘pay for that one,’ but Keith had almost entirely tuned out of his exaggerated monologue.

There was a light pink coloring to Lance’s cheeks and the tip of his nose, and Keith was fighting an incredible urge to fix the tiny flick of hair that was sitting across Lance’s eyebrow.

And then, he wasn’t sure what overcame him.

His hand grazed over Lance’s jaw, startling the other into silence.

Whatever Lance had been saying about attacking Keith with his expertly made snowballs or something of the like was now caught in his throat as he gazed, stunned, into Keith’s eyes; and Keith couldn’t settle anymore.

He smoothed his thumb over Lance’s skin, entranced by the way the boy’s blush grew at his touch. Then, leaning forward, he took in the subtle scent of peaches and strawberries before letting his lips press softly against the other’s.

It was chaste, yet fulfilling; so unimaginably fulfilling for Keith, who could only bring himself to lean back an inch or two, still wrapped up in all the warmth and sweetness that Lance carried with him.

For a moment, Keith wondered whether the icy wind had frozen Lance in place, but his lips released a heavy breath a moment later, his eyes wide with the surprise Keith should have seen coming.

What the hell was he thinking? Shiro wouldn’t be picking him up for at least another twenty minutes. Did he really expect to be able to survive an agonizing twenty minutes of rejection and disgust and—

Lance’s lips found his again quickly, pressing into them with purpose and engulfing Keith with that overwhelming scent that made his entire brain turn to water. He brought his hands up to cup Keith’s face, cooling his hot cheeks and making them burn up all at the same time.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, Keith could hardly ignore the way the lights around them looked so naturally a part of Lance's eyes. He was smiling back at Keith in a charming daze, laughing softly as his fingers moved to sweep Keith's hair back behind his ears, making his skin break out in pleasant tingles.

They each shuffled closer, sporting sheepish grins as they allowed their foreheads to fall against each other with a gentle thud.

“Merry Christmas, Keith.” His voice was barely a whisper, tickling against Keith's nose.

"Merry Christmas, Lance."

#klancemas #monthlyklance #klance #klance fic #keith x lance #vld keith #vld lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #my writing

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lynneshobbydomain · 4 years

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Make My Wish Come True (Day 7 of Komahina Week)

((Thank you so much for hosting this event. You guys did such a tremendous job. Thank you sunflower_8 for ediitng this for me and reminding me that I need to sometimes think not like Shuichi))

Prompt: Birthday/Free day (Soulmate AU)

Rating: G

Summary: Continuation of Tie A String Around Me. Nagito doesn’t want anything for his birthday, but Hajime has other plans.

You can read this under the cut or go to my AO3

“Okay so I know you told me that you didn’t want anything for your birthday-”

“But you got me something anyway, didn’t you?” Nagito lifted his head up from the book that he was reading as he looked over at Hajime standing close to the couch, hiding something behind his back. Nagito pursed his lips together as his soul-mate fidgeted, looking excited and knowing. The gentle three tugs of the string that was wrapped around Nagito’s finger was more or less a way to get him to relent the fond exasperation he was giving Hajime right now.

Ever since that fateful year of finding themselves at a vending machine, and then again at the end of a phone conversation, Nagito felt as though Hajime was trying to jump through hoops to prove that the string couldn’t be wrong for choosing each other as their soulmate. Admittedly, Nagito thought that it was wrong for one reason, which grew and grew expontantly into a reason of fear.

He couldn’t lose Hajime to his luck, and so far Hajime was strong enough to brave the weather. Brave enough that for the second birthday that they were celebrating together, Hajime went against Nagito’s wishes about not having anything. He already had everything. What more could he possibly be given?

Clearly, clearly Hajime thought that there was something he could add to his collection, and he wasn’t going to stop looking sly until Nagito put the book down. “...Maybe.”

“Maybe you got me something? Maybe you definitely got me something?” Nagito pressed, teasing. “I told you I was happy with-”

Hajime carefully pulled a piece of cake from behind his back and Nagito blinked. It was a gorgeous piece of chocolate cake. The dark brown frosting was evenly spread across the top. A single candle was standing in the middle of it, unlit and waiting. Nagito took the piece of cake in his hands, keeping it steady, already understanding what was next to come. He could feel the flush go down his cheeks and his neck, painting his white skin into a cherry red.

“Happy birthday to you.” Hajime sang quietly and Nagito felt tears sting his eyes as his boyfriend, the love of his life, reached into his pocket to take out his lighter. “Happy birthday to you.”

The sharp click of the lighter easily masked the soft gasp that Nagito made when he started to realize what this all meant. He hadn’t had a birthday where someone got him a cake or sung him a song in such a long time. Ever since his parents died….and before that.

“Happy birthday dear Nagito.” Hajime gently pulled his hand away when he was certain that the candle caught the flame, dancing brightly. “Happy birthday to you.” He finished the note. No thunderous applause, but the silence echoed the encouragement of the next part.

What could he possibly wish for that he didn’t already have? Now that he thought about it...there was one wish that he could make. There was one wish that he could see come true if he really wanted to. He leaned in close and blew the candle out. Hajime grinned, and Nagito could feel another three tugs against his pinky. They weren’t quick and sharp like they normally were. These were slow, and methodical. As though Hajime was trying to say it in a lover’s voice.

Nagito reached for their string and gently started to use it like a rope, tugging Hajime until he was close enough to be personal. Leaning in and thinking he was going to get a kiss, Nagito quickly used the fork that was given to him on the plate to cut the cake. He stuffed the small piece of chocolate into Hajime’s awaiting kiss and grinned when Hajime gave him a slight look. “Sorry.” He said, his voice soft. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You know I got that for you. The rest of it’s in the fridge.”

“So that’s why I smelled chocolate when you were in the kitchen.” Nagito teased and Hajime gave him a light shove. He snickered before pulling him back, placing the cake to the side on the coffee table. “You were busy.”

“I wanted to do something for you.” Hajime murmured.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Nagito asked, twisting a strand of Hajime’s hair. It always felt so silky against his fingertips. “Putting up with me for starters?”

“You put up with me, I thought it was fair.” Hajime retorted and Nagito laughed softly. “Besides, I love you...and I felt guilty for last year.”

“Last year? Hajime, love, we weren’t exactly friends during that time.” Nagito rolled his eyes. “Please don’t feel guilty because as an acquaintance you listened to me when I said I didn’t want anything.”

“Okay but you still went out of your way for my birthday.” Hajime pointed out, “And I told you that you didn’t have to.”

“So?” Nagito watched Hajime splutter, trying to defend himself. He gently moved his hand away from Hajime’s hair and gently stroked his cheek instead. Hajime instinctively leaned against it, and Nagito cupped it before gently pulling himself close to Hajime’s orbit and pressing his lips against his.

The taste of chocolate was addicting and he could chase it if he wanted to. Instead, he pulled away and let Hajime decide if he was free or not. “Hey.” He said softly. “Do you want to make my wish come true?”

“Now you got me concerned.” Hajime said slowly and Nagito laughed. “What exactly am I-”

“You should marry me.” The words slipped right out Nagito’s mouth before he could stop. He watched as Hajime’s eyes widened and his jaw went slightly slack at the question...statement. Nagito’s heart started to race wildly, but he couldn’t bring himself to take those words back. At the same time, this was the wrong situation for this!

It was always a sight to see Hajime’s expression when he stopped working. He closed his eyes and mouth, trying to mentally recalibrate himself back into reality. As though something mentally whiplashed himself out of working order.

Nagito waited with baited breath, and was starting to come up with a thousand excuses to try to backtrack his words. He knew that Hajime might say yes, but this was all out of context. He didn’t have a ring. He shouldn’t have asked the way that he did. He knew that if he didn’t ask, Hajime would try to beat him. Hajime probably would think of so many different ways that this could’ve been better, and maybe Nagito should’ve waited but-

“Yeah. Okay.”

“That’s it?” Nagito blinked, that was...anticlimactic.

“...I’m not exactly going to burst into tears and cry on my knees, Nagito. We’re soulmates, this was kind of supposed to happen.” Hajime teased.

“Well no, but I was expecting more drama than that.” Nagito mused thoughtfully.

“Who am I? Ouma? Mioda?” Hajime spluttered. “If anything, Nagito, if I asked you to marry me, you’d be the one being dramatic.”

“No that’s true. I wouldn’t ever believe that a talentless-”

“-oh god here we go again-” Hajime looked at the ceiling, though the smile played at his lips.

“-reserve course student could ever love a scum like me.” Nagito finished, and laughed when Hajime reached and pinched his side in retaliation. “What? Isn’t it true? We’re both worthless when it comes to this world, but you have found meaning in something that I couldn’t.” His expression softened and all he could feel was his heart thumping rhythmically against his chest. The love that he had for Hajime could race his heart to the ground and slow it to a stop.

“I love you.” Hajime said, and Nagito could hear the fondness and exasperation and the love that was all mingled in those three little words. “I love you.” He repeated, the love coming out fiercely, overshadowing the other two emotions. “Of course I’m going to say yes. I don’t want to be by anyone’s side but yours.” He took a breath. “You know you just tricked me into giving you a present. You know that, right?”

“Hmm? Oh! I guess I did.” Nagito blinked. “I didn’t think of-” Hajime took the distraction for what it was and pressed their lips together once again. It tasted sweeter this time and Nagito wasn’t sure what was different. He didn’t mind of course, all of their kisses were pleasurable and welcoming. He just wished he knew more about what each one meant.

“Happy birthday, fiance.” Hajime murmured.

Nagito definitely wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to handle that being his new nickname. He dragged Hajime in for another kiss, eternally grateful that his string had been tied around him.

#komahina week 2020 #komahina #hopetohope #danganronpa #sdr2 #lynne's self indulgence #Hajime Hinata #nagito komaeda #birthday #love #fluff #danganronpa fanfic #thank you for your support

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enchantedxrose · 4 years

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The Monster of West End: Chapter Three A Beauty and the Beast retelling set in 1837 London

The “Beauty” of this story is a young seamstress desperate for work to pay off her father’s debts. Her new employer, though Beastly in appearance, is coldly tolerated by society because he has money and status. She is quickly charmed by his warm heart and sense of humor, but his monstrous form isn’t the only obstacle to their budding relationship.

Mrs. Hutchinson led Viola up the servants’ staircase to a small garret bedroom at the top of the house.

“The upper-servants sleep on the upper floors,” she explained over her shoulder, “but I daresay the rooms off the kitchen for the cook and scullery maid are more comfortable. It gets rather drafty up here in the winter and stuffy in the summer.”

Viola surveyed the room with a satisfied sigh. It had creaky floorboards and a low sloping ceiling. The utilitarian furnishings consisted of a nightstand and a brass bed.

“I think this will do very nicely for me,” she told Mrs. Hutchinson without a trace of irony.

The housekeeper raised her eyebrows at Viola’s enthusiasm. “If you say so,” she muttered.

Viola did not pay Mrs. Hutchinson’s skepticism any heed. This room boasted one enormous advantage over her ten-square foot cell in the Marshalsea: a large window with a view.

The single narrow window in their Marshalsea ‘apartment’ faced only the discolored bricks of the prison wall. She could not see the sky, nor even the iron spikes atop the wall to deter escape artists. Her only occasional splash of color came from the laundry hanging on the line, the grey chemises that had once been white. There was nothing green to be seen all summer, save the bare spindly weeds between the paving-stones. They were on the second of four stories in their prison complex, and there was another building directly behind them, so that Viola felt constantly closed in by bricks on all sides.

Even when she was permitted to step outside the gates, the Marshalsea was always creeping up behind her, and she could not escape its shadow. Always trapped.

But here, in Mr. Carlyle’s house, she could breathe. She could see the slate-grey overcast sky above the rooftops; she could look down and see trees lining the cobblestone street, their branches glazed with frost. She could open the window and feel the fresh sting of the winter air.

Guilt gnawed on her, in the background of these hopeful observations, try though she might to wave it away. Was it so wrong of her, to want to leave her miserable circumstances behind? Was it selfish of her to escape like this, when she could not yet bring her father with her?

“Breakfast in the servants’ hall is served promptly at seven o’clock,” the housekeeper announced, abruptly cutting off Viola’s musing. “If you wish for a hot meal, do not be late.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hutchinson,” she replied with feeling, undeterred by her coworker’s sharp tone. “Before you retire, I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for the opportunity you and Mr. Carlyle are giving me. I hope to prove myself worthy of his trust.”

The words were more deferential than she truly felt, but Viola could sense that Mrs. Hutchinson was suspicious of her in some way, and she wanted to be on better terms with her if they were to be working in close quarters. The housekeeper’s pursed lips relaxed a fraction as she continued to study Viola with that critical, piercing gaze.

“Mr. Carlyle has a partiality for waifs and strays,” Mrs. Hutchinson said at last in a clipped voice. “I need not explain why he feels a…kinship with those that society looks down upon. Therefore, it is incumbent on me to protect him from those that would take advantage of his sympathies.”

“I understand,” Viola said, swallowing hard.

“Do you?”

Of course she did. Viola had lost plenty of sleep over her too-trusting father over the years. But she decided to hold her tongue.

Once alone, Viola rapidly undressed to her chemise. The earlier she retired for bed, the earlier she could rise and return to her father.

She caught her reflection out of the corner of her eye and winced. She had no looking-glass in her cramped quarters at the Marshalsea and usually made do with checking her appearance in the reflection on the single windowpane—an image that was indistinct at best. But the garret room had a large oval mirror propped on the nightstand and she was face-to-face with herself.

Was she really that ashen-faced, or was it just the layer of dust over the mirror? Her linen shift hung so loosely on her, exposing a prominent collarbone and bony shoulder. The shadows were deep under her dark brown eyes.

Ugh, I look like a street urchin with consumption, she thought. No wonder Mr. Carlyle took pity on me tonight.

Viola had a rather square jaw set on a long, slender neck, which automatically gave her a waiflike appearance at the best of times—and now was decidedly not the best of times. Her hair was wispy and flaxen and did whatever it pleased.

She set the mirror face down.

The nightstand, she was pleased to discover, had been prepared for her stay: not only was there fresh water in the pitcher and a clean towel, but also a small cake of soap and a jar of tooth powder. She poured out a little water into the basin to wash her face, but found herself overcome. She had to brace herself on the nightstand and take a few deep breaths to swallow down a sob of incredulous relief.

The water was so clear and clean. It did not reek of rust. When was the last time she had used water without boiling it first? She couldn’t recall.

The garret room was chilly, as it had no fireplace, but when Viola pulled back the covers of the bed, she found a bed-warmer full of smoldering coals, which made the sheets invitingly warm. Exhausted and grateful, she fell asleep within minutes.

Viola went back to the Marshalsea early the next morning, to fetch her meager belongings and kiss her father goodbye. She was not expecting the scene she stepped into.

By the single narrow, grimy window stood Mr. Weston. Hardship had aged him prematurely—his hair was a solid iron grey, and sparse at the temples—and cataracts had taken almost all of his sight from him. He was speaking softly to his eldest daughter, Miranda, and had his hands soothingly upon her shoulders.

While Viola had inherited their father’s slight frame, Miranda took after their mother with her tall, commanding figure, made all the more striking by her wide straw bonnet and puffed gigot sleeves.

At the sound of Viola’s entrance, they both looked up—Mr. Weston’s face brightening with relief, Miranda’s contorting with outrage.

“Oh my dear, we have been so worried,” he said.

Miranda glowered at her. “Where have you been, Vi? We have been scouring the city for you. I hope you have a good explanation.”

Viola presumed the ‘we’ in this case meant Miranda and her husband Eustace, given that their father was not allowed further than the courtyard outside.

“I told the gatekeeper to send word that I’d gone back to Mr. Carlyle’s house for the night, because I missed the bell. Did he forget to pass along the message?”

Mr. Weston raised an eyebrow at Miranda. “There, now, what have I been telling you? I knew there must be a simple explanation—”

Unfortunately for him, Mr. Weston was much more softly spoken than his daughters and easily faded into the background during impassioned discussions. Miranda acted as if she had not heard him.

“Who in heaven’s name is Mr. Carlyle, and what do you mean by staying at his house?”

Viola took a deep breath to calm her temper. “He’s my employer, as of yesterday. I’m to serve in his household as a seamstress. I’m sorry to have caused such a fuss, but I thought you would know where I was.”

“We were about to start dragging the Thames for your lifeless body!” Miranda snapped. “For all we knew, you were frozen to death in the storm.”

Viola rolled her eyes. Her elder sister had once fancied herself a great actress, and even now always seemed to be auditioning for a Greek drama.

Miranda continued, gesturing to her heavily pregnant figure, “And I really ought not to be distressing myself so, not in my current condition.”

“I never asked you to distress yourself about me!”

“Well apparently someone has to, or you’ll gallivant about the city, staying at the houses of strange men!”

Before Viola could muster an angry retort, their father intervened.

“That’s quite enough from both of you,” he said, a note of pleading in his tone. “The important thing is that Viola is, in fact, safe and all is well. There is no need to quarrel over what is already past.”

He stood between the sisters for a long moment, waiting for their petty anger to deflate. Viola’s cheeks burned; their father had a way of making them feel like children caught misbehaving.

“I’m sorry for causing you to worry,” Viola said grudgingly. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m sorry for getting so cross about it,” Miranda mumbled, picking at a loose thread on her coat.

“There, now,” Mr. Weston said briskly. “Was that so terribly painful?”

The sisters avoided each other’s eyes. Mr. Weston ignored their sullen silence and carried on as if the quarrel had never taken place.

“So, Viola, I take it you have accepted the position you interviewed for. Tell me about the house. Where does your employer live?”

“Near Covent Garden.”

“Oh dear.” Mr. Weston wrung his hands, troubled. “Is that a suitable neighborhood for you to be walking by yourself? It’s got rather an unsavory reputation.”

“That was true in your day, Papa,” said Miranda, “but it’s changed a good deal in recent years. They’ve rebuilt most of the houses. Now it’s considered quite a fashionable place to live.”

“Ah.”

Viola’s heart twisted painfully. Their father had been locked away for so long, and London was rapidly changing without him—when he was finally at liberty to walk the streets again, would he even recognize it?

“I’ll return every Sunday afternoon for dinner,” she promised him. “Mr. Carlyle has given me leave to visit you the entire day.”

Miranda cut in sharply. “You mean to say this will be a live-in position? How can you leave our father alone all week? How is he to manage by himself?”

Viola felt a renewed flicker of annoyance. Their father was still quite capable and independent; he did not deserve to be treated like a child or like a doddering old fool. But before she could speak up for him, he did it himself.

“Miranda, my dear,” he soothed her, “I may be blind as a bat, but I am not hopelessly infirm. I know this apartment well enough to get about without stumbling.”

Viola squeezed his hand. “Just promise me that you will ask Mr. Wilkins down the hall to help you light the stove fire in the mornings. I’m sure he won’t object.”

“I promise. I do still have some sense, after all.” He gave her a wry smile.

As Viola predicted, Miranda seemed mollified at the notion of his fellow-inmates checking in on him daily. “Well,” she said briskly, “it seems I am overruled. Gather your things, Vi. Eustace and I can take you in the cab. You are not walking all that way carrying luggage.”

Viola had few personal belongings worth bringing; they fit neatly into a single carpetbag. She owned exactly three dresses at present: two sturdy, practical wool dresses of brown and navy blue, and one finer black gown reserved for holidays and funerals. She didn’t like wearing dark colors, but they lasted much longer against wear and tear and stains. A working woman ought not to wear pink or yellow, if she was at all sensible.

The dour colors did make her look so grim and severe, she reflected morosely. She dreamed of a day when she had spare money enough for a gown pale as springtime, in rosebud or lilac or buttercup. What a luxury that would be!

Underneath the faded chemises and shabby stockings, she tucked her one real treasure: a well-worn collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets, in the margins of which her mother had scribbled her own annotations.

In farewell, Viola took both her father’s hands and kissed them. “I don’t want you to worry about me, Father. This is going to be good for our family, I promise.”

“I know that, my dear,” he said gently. “It’s been clear to me for a long time that you would have to forge your own path.” He leaned over to murmur in her ear, soft enough that Miranda was unlikely to hear. “Try to have a little more patience with your sister. She’s only looking out for you.”

Even though he could not see Viola purse her lips, he must have heard the irritation in her sigh.

“Viola,” he chided. “Be kind to your sister. For my sake, if for no other reason.”

“I’ll try. And now I really must be going; Mr. Carlyle expects my return before noon.”

#my fiction #monster of west end #beauty and the beast #victorian era #chapter four won't be far behind!#i'm about halfway done with it

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kingdomsaurushearts · 5 years

Note

I once saw this video of a husky pup experiencing its first snowfall. Very quiet and serene and just blinking up at the sky as the snow fell around it. Now I can't help but think of Ven's first snowfall being something similar.

Winter came far quicker than the leaves could fall. But Aqua didn’t mind. It just meant that she had an excuse to break out the hot cocoa early. Ven would surely love it! Especially since she got Terra to get the marshmallows down from the top shelf.

As she waited for the kettle to boil, she looked outside and watched the fluffy flakes gracefully fall. The wind absent, letting them sway under their own weightlessness against the still air. The calm only interrupted by the bounding of an excited teens footsteps echoing down the corridor, announcing his arrival.

*read more below cut*

Ven burst through the arch of the kitchen, his cheeks pink with glee and lack of breath.

“AQUA! AQUA! Do you see outside?! It’s like a giant Blizzard spell was cast!” His grin reaching his ears, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he excitedly came next to her and looked out of the window in wonder.

“Your first snowfall Ven, what do you think?” She giggled at his childish antics, nose scrunched against the glass window.

“It’s so pretty! Like the ground looks like a giant white pillow!” He paused for a moment. Lip pursing in thought. “What about training? Our morning drills are usually outside.”

The kettle whistled and Aqua walked over to turn off the heat, “The Master and Terra are setting up the gymnasium on the other side of the courtyard, we’ll be indoors until spring. We would have already set it up of the snow didn’t decide to come a few weeks early. We might have another warm day or two before winter officially starts on the calendar.”

“Ah. So that’s what that building is.” Ven mused, watching as Aqua poured little cups of brown powder into mugs before adding the water. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Hot cocoa, I doubt we’ll actually be doing any training today, the gym isn’t going to be ready in one go. Maybe tomorrow.” A gentle splash of cream, stir, and plops of three big marshmallows, she presented Ven with his green mug.

She already knew Ven loved the puffed treats from a camping trip earlier in the summer. She saved the mini marshmallows for her own mug.

Ven took a long steady sip, shoulders slouching in relaxation. A hum of delight. Smiling back up at Aqua, with a foamy mustache, “This is fantastic! I could have this every day!”

“I’m sure you could, you walking cavity.”

“Hey you’re one to talk, Miss Midnight Snack. Cake doesn’t eat itself.”

Aqua almost choked on a mini, a fit of giggles between them. “Hey, we were in on that together, don’t rat out your partner in crime!”

“Too late, now I know to lock up the pastry cabinet.” Master Eraqus appearing seemingly out of nowhere, plopping one of the minis in his mouth.

“Master, no! How will she ever get her sugar fix? You know how she gets.” Terra chimed in, ruffling Ven’s hair before grabbing his mug and filling it for tea.

“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny.”

A snicker from Ven, “I dunno Aqua, you were the scariest at Halloween.”

Their laughs filled the kitchen, a warmth seeped into his chest, bringing the cocoa back to his lips, sucking up a marshmallow.

“So, how’s it going over there? You two look like you had a dirt bath.” Aqua teased.

“Yes, our equipment is in a state less desirable. We will be finishing up setting them up today, but tomorrow, I would for you and Ventus to assist in cleaning them.”

“Wow Master, you and Terra already got most of them set up? That’s got to be a record.”

Terra gave her a look, “Hey, I’m stronger now, this is nothing.” As if to prove a point, he flexed his arm, while the other dipped his tea bag into the water.

“Mhmm. Well, Ven and I will be more than happy to. Since we’re decidedly not doing anything much to help today.”

“Hey! I’m doing something today!”

Eraqus looked at him with an amused twinkle in his eye, one he rarely got these days. “Really, Ventus? What shall you be doing today?”

“Building a snowman! I bet I can make the biggest one! Bigger than Terra!”

“I bet you will. Maybe I’ll finally have someone my size to fight.”

Aqua smacked him playfully, “Hey, I’m right here.”

After some snacks, and more lighthearted teasing, Terra and the Master returned to their chore for the day, while Aqua dressed Ven up as warmly as she could. He was small and the cold would surely get to him quickly.

With a final tuck of his hair under her spare beanie, she’ll have to knit one of his own. But for now, the midnight blue suited him well. The color of his eyes popping against the contrast of his hair.

She went to zip him up, but he was practically bouncing in place. “Ven, hold still so I can line up the teeth. ”

“Sorry Aqua, I’m just so excited! I can’t wait!”

“I’m sure you can wait one more minute, I want to get a shovel so I can get the walkway, it’s supposed to snow again tonight, and I really dont need another foot to shovel tomorrow.” With that, she got the tape to align, and got the tab to zip up all the way without any resistance. “I’ll be right back.”

Ven nodded enthusiastically, and paced a bit by the door. Wondering how cold it was going to be. He was already roasting under the layers, he almost wanted to take off his gloves.

Aqua returned not a minute later, shovel in hand, and thick gloves. “Alright, let’s go. Just don’t run, you might slip.” A smile on her face, watching Ven haphazardly try to grip the door handle and pulling it open.

The brisk air hit his face, a relief of the sweat building up on his beck and brow. He rushed out, but slowly when Aqua called him. He looked over the vast blanket of snow covering the grounds.

Even though though flakes had stopped, he was breathless.

Aqua outstretched her hand to him, “Help me down the stairs.”

They walked down the snow covered steps, Ven giggling at the crunch of snow, leaving prints in the otherwise perfect surface. Slipping a little once they reached the bottom. So that’s why, he thought, his heart beating rapidly at the thought of slipping face first.

Setting down the shovel against the barrier, she dragged Ven over to the now covered grassy area.

“First things first, the Snowball!”

There was a deep satisfaction in rolling and pressing snow into a sphere, and then throwing it against a tree, or a wall and watching it explode into powser. He was wondering what it would be like against someone else, but he got his answer as one burst against his back, some of the snow landing down the collar of his jacket, chilling his neck.

With a yelp, he turned to the perpetrator, who was snickering as she made ball upon ball of snow as arsenal. A war then.

They exhausted themselves into the ground. Aqua showed him how to make Snow Angels. Snow officially covering them head to toe.

Now very much grateful for his layers, the cold was more than anticipated. His nose turning red, and pinking his cheeks. His lips parted for his hot breath.

Aqua excused herself to do the task she set up before and began shoveling the courtyard, while Ven made 3 more angels.

5 Angels now lay in a circle. It looked like a flower in his mind.

He took off the beanie and shook his head to free him of the frost that clung to his hair. He sighed happily, looking around the mess of snow play, the perfect blanket now wrinkled and messy.

A snowflake floated in front of him, he glanced upwards. It had started snowing again.

It was beautiful. Staring straight up. He felt like he was falling backwards. They landed on his cheeks ever so gently, melting from his warmth.

If they weren’t made of ice, and it wasn’t so cold out, he would have compared them to dandelions in spring. The cotton flying in the wind freely, the seeds to planting somewhere new, away from where they came from, creating a new world of sun kissed flowers.

A heavy feeling dropped into his gut, like he just swallowed a bucket of water. It weighed him down like lead. His shoulder tensed, his brows furrowed, but confusion in his eyes.

He didn’t know why, but his heart suddenly lurched into his chest, a feeling he knew but couldn’t place. His head throbbed unpleasantly. A cold sapped his energy and grabbed his limbs.

Smile gone. He didn’t want to be outside anymore. He looked back down to the snow angels, silhouettes of himself, as he stood on Aqua’s.

The water on his face dripped down, but this time, it wasn’t melted snow.

Aqua called for him, wiping the moisture from his face, thankful that the cold can be cause for sniffles too, he rushed over to her, as they began walking back up the steps.

He chanced a glance back, the falling snow filling the imprints, he felt like he was leaving them behind. And the word ‘again’ flitted across his mind as a warm hand wrapped around his, and closed the door.

Sorry! I couldn’t help myself! I was gonna make it light and fluffy but… I couldn’t contain the angst!

#kingdom Hearts #ventus #aqua #terra #master eraqus #one shot #writing

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retro-rezz-the-est · 5 years

Text

Sick Day Birthday (Aleister Black/OC fluff)

Word Count: 3,726

Summary: Zelina puts Aleister and his team of kitties up to try their best and make OC Brianna feel better while she’s down with the flu on her birthday.

(A/N #1: This was supposed to be posted for @writinglionqueen’s birthday a few weeks back but since I was busy and I’m a forgetful wart, I didn’t finish it on time and I’m sorryyyyyyyy pls forgive me bb. I hope you like it!)

(A/N #2: mutual pining mutuAL PINING MUTUAL PINING MUTUAL PINI-)

The brightness of the sun was what woke Brianna up late that morning, causing her to groan in despair and tug her blanket over her head. Its continuous through her eyelids was beginning to make her head pound even more than it had before, but she severely lacked the energy to actually get up to close her curtains. A few more minutes of straight light to the face and she awoke, shoving a pillow over her eyes to block it out.

“Fuck my life,” she cursed, wanting to go back to sleep.

She moved a hand under the pillow to her forehead and hissed at how hot it was, weakly pushing the object away from her face. An abrupt cough left her chest and caused her to shoot up, her seemingly hacking her lungs out for what seemed like forever.

Waving around blindly to her right, she managed to successfully grab a nearby box of tissues and blow her nose, tossing the used item far enough that it had almost reached the trash can on the other side of the room. Bri shook her wild bed hair away from her face to wipe at her eyes, feeling the softness underneath them.

Do I really have to get up this morning? she thought to herself as her vision started to clear. After staring at the ceiling for a while, she gingerly reached over to her bedside table, grabbed her phone and checked the date.

Huh, August 12th. Why’s that date so-

Her bedroom door suddenly burst open, the loud bang of it colliding with the wall startling Bri and making her hoarsely shriek and clutch her blanket in fear. She watched as her roommate came through the now opened door, dressed in black jeans and a violet crop top with a cupcake in hand and a full-toothed grin plastered on her face. The entire thing was covered in green buttercream frosting, topped with mini sparklers and sprinkles, and wrapped in a silver holder.

“Happy birthday, you lovely lady!” Zelina yelled, rushing towards the bedridden woman as fast as she could with the confection in her hands and placed it in her lap.

“Holy shit, Z,” Brianna winced as she placed her hands over her ears, “could you not yell right now? My head hurts enough as is.”

The other woman nervously chuckled, moving her hands quickly to brush more hair out of Bri’s eyes. “Sorry, hun. I just wanted to surprise you since you didn’t come out for breakfast… or lunch… again...”

“Huh? What time’s ‘t?”

Sighing, Z answered, “It’s past 12:30, girl. You’ve been in bed for forever and-”

“It’s only been three days.”

“-and you’ve got to get up. You need to eat, shower, change you clothes and, you know, live.”

Flopping back onto her mattress, Bri grumbled, “Moving and getting out of bed is for healthy people.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you decided to sleep with the AC on full blast! You know it’s right next to you.”

The other woman grumbed to herself some more, sniffing in and rolling onto her stomach. She turned her head and mumbled, “Then, summer can kiss my ass.”

Kneeling down to her level and leaning her arms on the bed, Zelina asked, “Don’t you wanna try and get better, sis?”

Moving her head over to face her, the redhead replied, “I’ve tried literally everything. Eating doesn’t help since everything taste like agony and my own saliva, medicine does fuck all for me, and sleeping just makes me even more tired.”

Bri’s eyes began to close again and soon enough, Z could hear the clear sounds of her snores echoing through the room. She rolled her eyes at the display, seeing the other woman’s hair fall around her like a lion’s mane and rose, closing the door as she left.

Walking down the hallway into her own room, she dug her feet into her rug and sighed. She didn’t want her best friend to be in bed for her entire birthday, but there wasn’t much that she could do that hasn’t already been done by now to make her feel better. Crossing her arms, she hopped onto her own bed and stared outside.

A lightbulb went off in her head, and Zelina nearly fell as she scrambled for her phone. She unlocked it and went straight to her contacts, staring at the first name in it and praying that he would actually answer. Pressing his name, she held the device to her ear and heard it ring, hearing a voice on the other side after the third ring.

“What do you need from me?” the voice asked with a gruff tone.

“You remember that “thing” I did for you a few months back, and you said that you owed me?”

They sighed, “Mhm?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to cash in that favor today…”

~~~~~

Zelina marched back down to Bri’s room grinning, this time opening her door slowly and seeing her still asleep. Going up to her bedside, she shook the sleeping woman’s shoulders to rouse her from her slumber but her efforts proved to be fruitless.

“Hey, hun. We’re going out today. Get up,” she whispered in her ear.

“5 more minutes, dammit…”she muttered, turning over and burying her head in her sheets.

She walked over to her curtains and toss them open, letting the natural light in and then proceeded to rip the blankets off of Bri’s swaddled body. The redheaded female hissed at the sudden temperature change and squinted her eyes at the amount of light that filled the room.

“Why th’ fuck is it so bright in here?” she slurred, still adjusting to the changes.

“I said,” Zelina repeated, “we’re going out today. I don’t want you cooped up in here for the entire day. You deserve to have some sort of fun today.”

Bri retaliated with, “I emphasize my previous point: moving is for healthy people such as yourself. Sick humans, such as myself, are legally required to stay inside until they are better.”

The other woman moved down towards the foot of the bed and grabbed her ankles, nearly tugging them and her body off of the bed and closer to the door. The tired female feebly grasped at her sheets to try and keep herself attached to her mattress, but failed to do so.

“But I don’t wanna go,” she whined, Zelina helping her to her feet and leading her to their shared bathroom. The other woman laughed at her complaints as another cough rocked Bri’s chest. Her slightly nasally voice continued to flow through the cracks of the bathroom door after Z had told her to shower and pushed her inside.

“Hurry up and get ready in there, girl,” the dark haired woman said. “You have- I mean, we have places to be and things to do today.”

~~~~~

About an hour later - half of which was spent by Bri just sitting under a hot shower - , the two ladies were heading out of their home and out onto the road, driving down to an unknown location. Sitting in the passenger seat, the redhead began to pick at the frays of her dark green sweatshirt and looked out at the other cars.

“Can you just tell me where we’re going already?” she asked, not looking at her friend as she hung her head out the window to cool down her flushed face. Her hair whipped in the flowing wind and she shut her eyes to embrace it.

The other woman shook her head and smiled, one hand tugging at the bottom of the leather jacket she chose for her outfit. “My lips are sealed, babe. And you’re really asking that now? We’ve barely been on the road for five minutes.”

Groaning, Bri stated, “To be fair, you did kinda drag me out of bed against my will, so I’m owed an explanation.”

“You’ll be fine, I promise,” Zelina assured, glancing over at her before returning to the road. “I wouldn’t lead you astray.”

A half an hour’s drive filled with 90s tunes later brought them to a simple looking house that had Zelina’s face beaming. Parking her car, she dropped out and moved around the car to open the passenger side, catching her friend before she fell out of her seat. Half-dragging her up the small flights of stairs to the door, she knocks on it three times before stepping back.

“Who’s house is this?” Bri asked, looking around at her surroundings and wiping her nose with her sleeve.

Z waved it off and smiled at her. “I’m putting you in the best hands possible now, don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

The door opened at standing in front of the two women stood Aleister Black, dressed in a Blackcraft Wrestling hoodie and some gym shorts. He looked like the antithesis to Zelina: him looking calm and collected while she looked like she was about to burst.

“What the hell, Z?!” the sick redhead whispered into her ear. She could feel a flush run down her cheeks and neck when she saw the man’s eyes drift from Zelina to her. “Out of anywhere we could’ve gone, you brought me here?!”

She giggled like a schoolgirl and ignored her remarks, instead giving Black her attention. “You remember what I told you, right?”

“How could I forget?” he replied, rolling his eyes sarcastically. He took Bri from her as carefully as he could and led her inside, shutting the door with his foot. He could hear the thud of her boots and her car rev off down the road before he let out a breath. Turning his head, he faced the woman holding onto him and cracked a small grin.

She’s still so damn cute, he mused, leading her deeper into his home.

Exhaustion still laid heavy in her veins as the Dutch male walked her into his living room. He sat her down on his couch, her pulling her feet up immediately after he crouched down to remove her sneakers. A fuzzy black blanket was thrown over her flushed body and Bri began to bury herself in it, trying to hide her brightly flushed face.

“Since I’m your caretaker for the rest of the day, is there anything the birthday girl desires?”

Yeah, you, she thought, quickly waving it away.

She could still feel his warm eyes gaze on her as she shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I’m good for no-”

A deep growl rumbled from deep within her stomach and at that point, her cheeks really did seem to glow redder and hotter than the sun.

I’m gonna kill Zelina for this.

Bri curled herself into a ball, wiping her nose with the cuff of her sleeve and covering her head with the blanket while Aleister laughed at the noise. He rose and placed a hand on her shoulder lovingly, feeling her breath begin to even out.

“Well, that answers my question now, doesn’t it?” he said softly before placing a soft kiss to her nose and making his way into the kitchen. A faint meow came from his feet and he looked down to see a white cat stroll in between and around his legs, finally hopping onto the couch and curling up next to Bri’s sleeping body. He smirked at the action, a slight heat rising up the back of his neck.

Aleister scratched at his beard and sighed, cursing himself because dammit, he’s in love.

~~~~~

A soft hand on her cheek began to rouse Bri from her slumber and she grimaced, rolling over to try and ignore it.

“Come on, love. You gotta get up and eat something.”

“Don’t wanna,” she replied, her voice muffled. “‘M warm and it smells like home in here.”

That seemed to shut him up a bit, and he was thankful that she couldn’t see his wide eyes or his blush.

She soon rose, rubbing at and opening her eyes to see Aleister smiling warmly at her with a bowl of something hot in his hand. He set the bowl down on the small table in front of her and sat next to her, lifting Totty Potato off of the couch and placing the white Persian into his lap. The cat immediately moved into hers, laying down on his back.

“I think your cat wants me to pet him,” Bri smiled, reaching over him to grab some tissues to blow her nose.

“Well, he’s gonna have to wait,” he said moving the cat to the floor despite its cries of refusal. “I cooked up some soup for your hunger… and your fever.”

She carefully lifted the bowl and brought it to her nose. “You made this yourself?”

He laughed nervously and turned his head, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I had the ingredients and I had the time, so why not make a good meal for a pretty girl such as yourself?”

Now it was her time to turn beet red as she silenced herself by spooning some of the warm food he made into her mouth. The two continued to enjoy each other’s company in a comfortable silence for a while before they grew more relaxed, Aleister sliding the blanket off of her head as their postures relaxed.

Bri sighed in contempt as she downed the bowl’s contents and dropped the bowl onto the small coffee table, making it clatter. Leaning back, she groaned and rubbed at her stomach with a dazed grin plastered on her face.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself there.”

“Fuck, that was good,” she said. “You were right, it did help my fever go down.”

She chuckled at the statement and moved her hand to his shoulder, looking up at him. “Thanks for that. Y-You didn’t have to put in that much effort for me.”

Placing his hand over hers, he replied, “It’s not that big of a deal, love. I would’ve done it for you even if you weren’t sick.”

There’s that stupid nickname again, Bri thought, quickly moving her hand from under his and into the folds of the blanket. Totty managed to wriggle his way underneath Aleister’s legs and onto her lap, taking his place once again. Bri chuckled and ran a hand through the cat’s soft white fur.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to this sweetheart of yours, Aleister?” she asked, glancing back at him.

“Sure, as soon as-”

A loud “mrow” echoed out from down the hall and out came a line of cats skittering down, swiftly maneuvering themselves closer to the couch until all of them had descended upon it. One of them - an orange and white Persian named Tubby Tomato, she’d found out - climbed the couch and wrapped itself around Bri’s shoulders like a thick scarf while the others made themselves comfortable near her feet. Aleister burst out into laughter and so did she after a few seconds, the situation too strange and adorable to not laugh at.

“I don’t think they’ve ever warmed up to someone this quick,” he told her, scratching at Totty’s head. He proceeded to introduce you to what he called “Team Pomato” - a brown and black cat named Phoebe Purriwell, a black and grey cat named Pickles, and an all black kitten named Betty.

“She’s the newest addition to the family,” he added, picking the small black void off of the floor and holding her in his arms. “Only a few months old.”

Bri fished her other arm out from underneath Totty’s fluffy body and held out her hands. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can,” he answered, carefully placing the kitten into her hands and moving to stand up. She cooed at the creature and it mewled, the noise making her heart swell. She held it in her arms like a newborn child, but the remainder of the crew soon grew jealous and all climbed onto the couch to get a piece of her.

Aleister walked out of the living room, going over to his room to grab a small box of cat toys from his closet. Coming out, he was blessed with seeing all of his cats crowded around her, slightly intrigued with the story she was telling the small black void in her arms. He moved over to lean on a nearby wall, box still in hand with a content smile on his face.

She was… fuck, she was so beautiful. People didn’t really seem to appreciate natural beauty but damn, if she didn’t have it. Her wild and untamed red hair flew around her like small flares from the sun and though her skin was flushed from her fever, he could still see the life behind every move she made. The loving look in his eyes just seemed to rise as he continued to admire her from afar.

Holding the box of toys under one arm, he moved over to the kitchen counter and grabbed his phone. He pointed his camera at the small army on his couch, snapped more pictures than necessary, and sent a few to Zelina.

Aleister cleared his throat and made his way over to Br with a smile still on his face, placing the box down by her feet. She jumped at the sudden noise, laughing breathlessly at his intrusion.

“What’s in the box?” she questioned, looking over into it but not putting Betty down.

“I thought that since they’re so comfortable around you, you would maybe want to give their toys a try.”

He took out various stuffed animals, strings and sticks and automatically, the four older cats seemed to move as if they were attracted to them. “Think of this as my birthday gift to you, albeit a much crappier one than you deserve.”

“Oh, stop it. Being here is amazing, being here with you is amazing. I’m still glad that we got to hang out today, even though I’m a sick sack of shit who got dumped onto you.”

Aleister turned and faced her, his hands moving to hold both of her shoulders. “You are not a sack of shit. Besides, even if you weren’t sick, I’d still want to hang out with you.”

Holy fuck, he’s close, Bri thought, her face starting to glow as bright as her nose did. The area was pindrop-silent aside from the noises his cats made, so she made a move to break the slight tension.

“So, shall we?” she asked, reaching over his leg to grab one of the toy strings that he took out and held it above Betty’s head, watching the small animal bat at it with her paws.

Chuckling, he plucked up a stick with a stuffed butterfly on a string and held it out to Phoebe and Pickles, who were still lingering on the floor by her feet. “Oh, we shall.”

The pair spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the various cats, Tubby leaping from the nape of Bri’s neck and landing directly in Aleister’s lap. She continued to fawn and giggle over them, him sneaking looks at her with great care in his gaze.

They passed the time by swapping various tales of their lives, both embarrassing and not. They grew more and more comfortable around each other, the two moving closer until their shoulders and their knees touched.

Her attention was then focused on the ginger and white cat on her leg - Totty had become uninterested and had moved to curl up at Aleister’s feet - while his strayed over to the window behind her, seeing the sun slowly descend behind the horizon.

“The sun’s going down,” he pointed out, drawing her attention to the red and orange glow of outside. “What do you want to do now?”

Bri shrugged and picked up Tubby, placing him back on the floor with the rest of his siblings. “I dunno. What do you have in here?”

“We could watch a movie, if you want. I have plenty of those.”

She jabbed at his ribs with her elbow and raised a brow. “Mr. Black, are you attempting to trick me into Netflix and Chilling with you?”

“N-No, of course not!” he answered back, his cheeks and neck turning a soft shade of ink in the light of the fading sun. “It was just-”

“I’m just joking with you. You’d never do that.”

Even though I really want to, she thought as she watched him go over to the bookshelves that lined the wall next to his television. He searched for a while, finally selecting two before heading back to her.

“Alright, so we can either watch The Princess Bride - I don’t even know why I have this - or The Conjuring. And since it’s your special day, you get to choose.”

“Definitely The Princess Bride. I don’t wanna have nightmares going to sleep tonight,” she answered, yawning a tad bit.

He left the couch once more to put the movie on, turning off the lights as he came back. The movie began and Bri moved closer to Aleister, wrapping her sweater covered hands around his arm. She tried to sneak a look at him but failed and saw him staring right back into her eyes with the lights from the movie reflecting off of them.

“Thanks a million again, by the way. Spending today with you made feeling sick a hell of a better.”

He reached up to get a hold of her hand, saying, “Anytime, love. I’d do anything for you, especially on your birthday.”

Duly noted, she mused, bringing her feet up underneath her as the five cats made themselves known again. They hopped onto the couch and squeezed themselves in between the two humans, making them laugh. They brought their eyes back up to the screen and they both sighed in content, a great ending of a great day for two mutually pining idiots.

~~ Tag List: @writinglionqueen @writing-reigns @i-have-saracasm @yaint-me @calum-hoodwinked-me @missmoxy @gold–gucciempress @mistress-to-the-moon @meishaabae @luciddrreamss @neversatisfiedgirl @the-carter-mob-don @shazambitches @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @finnsauroraborealis @tacoshu @ladytea19 @candicelerae @sassybrose @bambixbliss @lookalivesunshine-x @liamakorn @baddie-bismuth @deepdisireslonging @flawlessglamazon @myorlandobloomersareshowing @thegoblin-maiden @justsimplevicky @taryn-dibiase @caramara3 @hardcorewwetrash @shieldgirl18@demonkingsangel @speckylynch @rollynch-roman-empire @trent7thirsting @theskullgoddess @nerdlife0612 @missredridinghood @hardcoresweet45 ~~

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#aleister black x oc #aleister black fanfic #aleister black fanfiction #aleister black fluff #wwe fluff #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #rezz writes some bullshit

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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

“And to heauie herse, mourne now”

And forest dim: fade far away. New growth most prevailing the same place—stumbled that I hear it half in Arizona, one is in praying. Can I then bequeath thy fragile visitor. I know thou came to the king ordered ever

spake romance, but only signs of progress? Swifter than garments’ cost, of mortals! The deadest thing on and over me, and louder grew, the nearer to thy high requiem become a sod. Cupid then to die; and the frost of outworn

buried age; when I tune myself to breed the better than garments, though new-fangled three moons towards a crystal moon, and doubts, and with inward as a snail, lets fall from my life forget who I am. Which, but straight ’tis won. Wakes among bird

feet and tears amid the grass’s fall; ye glow-worm of the slow to thy heart wherefore small demaund of Phoenix-Stellas state, or state of earthly things to keep her lustrous sea is thine heart, which I have seen the day, ye wadna been sav’d but

crazed eld annull’d my vigorous cravings: and could blind you are like me, and yet loue she signified. That kind of prison fly: or give me if I’ve shunned so long since, I know thine airy flute, while other. Old rusted anchors, helmet the

sway of aged men; for the harmless snake I bring, disarmèd of its Revelation; and, like a wee unsought Sugar with Azra to the Desperate Father hae her in a green shelving coasts, to prove their magic sway! But heavenly

race: but still indistinctness; storm, and wipe my life hath heard a thoughts, new growth about ye. A mathematician once told me closes every tree, mocks married ear! An’ then coming hame on Sunday last, when in the heart to this hour. The

comfort and mid-May’s eldest child, one is painting wide, doe misse the mountains overhead and passing hour’s supporting joys have lost the locked drops a look of its teeth to rend, and dies; white Queen with someone setting through her courteous found,

who complains before the Justice, and the pinions. And part; and even thence but sweet hours shine: if I say to your flocks in fieldes ay fresh, the grief’s strength to die, or be deliver’d from thee. Matting of love, by conquer’d woe; give no more

of the eternal wind, and with thee grace, and the frost of her hands moved among green and juicy hay from human kind. In gowany glens thy burnie strays, where pleasurable. To choke him, so that good night.—Two copious tear-drops instant

mind, might see swallows obeying the woof; with me in the tide, of night. Without a name, at once to be fed. In a groue most idly spent! Such a day I prize your soul away, I call it please a nation. Stella, whose intent I sit

upon me like some had not Loves purblinde charm applied—the sea backward glance up in the violence of your side in such interchange of stars. Happy in thine ten times like chiropractors having loved out in us both; but our

Election is decayed? Hark how the plaine; but now, with hellish spite with its head a cast—but the Muses hill; or reach you. Latest drop, so it with her foul pride. The little trace: for I shall I do? You know, I think? Your sisters eke repent,

her like small bald eye skyward again. By the blue doth vault the world is bent my deeds to cross to reach? Drinking delicious moan in deepest groans of tortures hot breath, and sisterhoods may stay, and Philomele her soft hand, the blessed. Towards

a crystal pool, to see unpack’d fire-branded foxes to speak contracted with Ignorance and wind it to a clue. In gulf or aerie, mountain bend? Must ever suffer thy part’s be in’t the best of a’. And to heauie herse, mourne now my

song is broke my rest, nor taste, nor love with Senses obiects be; Deale thou art not, trod no measure; all sighing, I whet my scythe of mine discovers wide more ground the haggard scene— the sea-country greene bayes to weare, now is time had hang’d them.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #107 texts #ballad

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years

Text

To Keep You Safe

Title: Why aren’t you scared of me? Why do you care for me?

Chapter: 16/?

Author: hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary: Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn’t have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki.

Rating: E

Notes: Friendly reminder that this is un-Beta’d, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I no doubt missed during revisions!

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings for this chapter: Smut before the first cut (but after the keep reading), brief mention of violence, blood, torture, and a bit of language.

~~~

“Talk to me, little one. I need to know what you’re thinking,” he pleaded desperately.

I watched in silent fascination as his dark brows creased together, creating an intersection with the lines now patterned across his forehead. His tongue–still pink–darted out to wet his lips nervously. Cracking echoed out between us from his grey-blue knuckles as he rubbed his hands together. I had never seen him look more anxious than he did standing before me in that moment.

And all I could think of was that he looked like an incredibly buff smurf.

“A Frost Giant?” I tested how the words felt on my lips, my voice quiet and dripping with curiosity as I stood up to slowly walk over to him.

He watched me with fear tight around his eyes. His breath stuttered in his throat when I reached out to take one of his hands into mine and traced the back of it slowly. My fingers followed the lines up his arms thoughtfully. They looked as if they were implanted beneath his skin and were hard yet supple at the same time, similar to the raised scar tissue on my shoulder. I worked to keep my face neutral beneath his intense scrutiny. It wouldn’t do for him to get the wrong idea about my exploration of his body before I had come to any conclusions myself.

“A lesser race to the Asgardian than you believed me to be. They’re primitive brutes who live on a planet of ice,” he spat out with obvious disdain for the beings he spoke of. The being that he was.

My probing touch settled on his shoulders, and I finally lifted my roving eyes to his face. If I looked hard enough, beneath the blue tint and blood-red eyes, I could see the man that I had fallen in love with deep down inside of him. He still felt like him, maybe a bit colder, but that could be because I, unlike him, wasn’t built for this weather and I was so cold that my fingers were tinted red. I lifted my hand up to run over the lines on his cheeks but I stopped just a hair’s breadth from his skin, suddenly unsure of how he would react.

“I will not hurt you. I am still myself. This…” he gestured to himself with a wave of his hands at his sides, “has always existed. You can touch me.”

But the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice said, ’Please touch me.’

I did as he asked even though he hadn’t said it out loud. My fingertips skated across the ridges of his cheeks and he closed his eyes to lean into my touch with a sigh. My hand cupped his jaw and I traced his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb, parting his lips just enough so that I could feel his short breaths puff out against it.

None of this was normal, but how normal was my life, really? I was a woman with freaking powers, like earth bending nonsense, living in a tower full of superhumans and two aliens. How different was one alien from another? I didn’t know much about Frost Giants or Asgardians when it came down to it. So, Loki was a smurf. He had been one all along; he just hid it well with some clever magic. No matter what he said about Frost Giants being a brutal primitive race, he had proved that wrong in the time that I’d known him. An alien was an alien was an alien. If I was going to start getting alien-racist about this then I seriously had some issues to work out.

I set my hands back on his biceps--still felt like steel cables beneath his cold skin--and squeezed them gently to get his attention. “Kiss me.”

His eyes, so startlingly red, burst open so he could look down at me in shock. “Excuse me?”

I rubbed his arms gently with my thumbs as I answered matter-of-factly, “Kiss me. I want you to kiss me, right now, looking like this. Don’t change back.”

And when he finally shoved aside enough of his doubt to stoop down to brush his lips across mine, it fully cemented the fact that beneath the blue exterior, this was still Loki. His low groan of pleasure when I nipped at his bottom lip was one that I had reveled in countless times before and knew intimately. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and teased his with long, languid flicks that made him gasp quietly and tense up beneath my hands, but he didn’t do anything more. He let me do what I wished with him, but his hands stayed firmly by his sides and his body inches away from mine.

I broke the kiss and pulled away just enough so that I could open my eyes to look into his. He stared back at me, panting heavily, but hesitation marked his brow and tightened his blue lips into a thin line. My lips barely touched his as I whispered the one word I know would break him out of this anxious and fearful rut that his self-loathing had dragged him into: “Mine.”

That did it.

His arms curled around my back and he tugged me against him. He claimed my lips for his own and thrust his tongue into my mouth to tangle deliciously with mine. Once I was firmly held in place by his hand splayed across the small of my back, his other hand traveled down my back to slip over my ass and grind my hips into his roughly. His lips left mine to drag a scorching hot yet icy cold trail down my jawline while he continued to roll our hips into each other, making his pleasure at my enthusiastic reaction very prominent where it ground into my thigh. My forehead dropped heavily onto his shoulder as I focused on keeping my legs from collapsing beneath me from the waves of delicious heat surging through them.

“Not here,” I insisted breathily with a weak shake of my head.

“Hold onto me.” His gruff command was quick and low. He didn’t give me much warning before he hooked his hands beneath my thighs and lifted them so that my only option was to cross my ankles behind his back and circle his shoulders with my arms. I planted lingering, hot kisses on the blue skin of his shoulder as he carried me effortlessly inside. The warmth of the building was so welcome on my frozen skin that my warm sigh of relief ghosted across Loki’s neck, and it sent a shiver up his spine that tightened his strong grip on my thighs.

I was too engrossed in tracing a ridge with my tongue that spanned his flesh from chiseled jaw to shoulder to pay attention to my surroundings. Only when he settled down into a chair that rolled beneath our combined weight did I lift my lips from his collarbone to take in our surroundings. Apparently he couldn’t wait to get to our bedroom, and a nearby conference room was going to have to do. He settled me over his lap with my knees on either side of his hips, and he used his grip on my thighs to push my center down over the sizable bulge growing in between his legs. Between his thin sweatpants and my jeans, it was more teasing than satiating, and a mewl of frustration crawled up from my throat at the lack of friction.

For a moment we just stared at each other in the darkness of the room, our aqua and porcelain faces lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Even without much light, the difference in our skin tones was apparent, as his didn’t catch the light as mine did as I straddled him. His startling eyes watched me with something akin to wonder lightening up the lust that lingered just beneath the surface. I relaxed my steadying grip on his shoulders to drag my fingers through his jet black hair, starting at his temple and working my way down until I was cupping his neck. He hummed appreciatively at the touch and gave me a small, content smile.

“You are always so beautiful, Loki,” I whispered, voice husky.

“You truly mean that.” His hoarse voice was incredulous, but it wasn’t a question.

“Of course I do.” I shifted on his lap so I could press a light kiss to the lines between his brows before clambering out of his clutches to stand up in front of him with my hands on my hips, all sweet honesty wiped from my face and replaced with sternness. “Take off your clothes.”

His eyebrow quirked up at my soft but commanding tone. With a hesitant but still wicked grin, he rose to his feet. When he reached out for me I took a step back out of arm’s reach and wagged a finger at him.

“No sir,” I said with mock seriousness, “just you. Strip, blueberry popsicle man.”

All hesitation finally left his face as he stared down at me with unbridled hunger. Good. With agonizing slowness, his large hands trailed over his flexed stomach muscles, and the rasp of skin against skin was so loud in the silence of the room it rivaled only the pounding of my own heart in my ears. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he hooked his thumbs into the hem of his pants and tugged them and his underwear down, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of wonderful ridged blue skin that I longed to worship with my touch.

So worship I would.

Once he straightened up to his full impressive height my eyes flickered back to the rolling chair behind him. A quick flex of my powers and ‘come hither’ motion of my fingers and I urged it forward just enough so that it tapped the back of his legs. He sank heavily into the chair and opened his arms for me to return to his lap. And I would. After I took care of something else first. I had plans to show him just how much I loved him, in any form or color, and I would not let his heavy-lidded red hot gaze deter that plan.

“You always told people to kneel for you. But never me,” I mused, a boldness growing within my chest from the way his heavy cock twitched when I slipped his hoodie from my shoulders to drop at his feet. My head tilted to the side with a challenge lighting up my eyes. “Do it.”

He swallowed and a muscle ticked in his jaw as he clenched it tightly. Even looking like this, the Frost Giant that he was, he was very much Loki. Arrogant and smug as ever as he narrowed his eyes at me and lifted his chin. “Kneel, mortal.”

Calling me mortal had a whole new level of intensity when he looked so clearly like an otherworldly being. At times it was easy to forget that he wasn’t just a man like any other that I’d known, but kneeling down in front of him and coming right up to his hard blue cock settled between his legs left no room for any doubt in my mind. My fingernails scratched lightly against his thighs as I dragged my hands up them to come to rest at the base of him.

A wave of shyness overtook me as I carefully grasped him in one of my hands. He was so big and I had his full attention. What if I wasn’t good enough for him? My other hand came to a stop on the flat of his abs, and he covered my hand with his. I marveled for a moment at the difference in our skin tones as they contrasted so beautifully in the dim light. His stomach muscles rippled beneath my hand as I looked up to him from my submissive position before him. The pure desire that shone in his ruby eyes killed any hesitation that had been swirling in my stomach, and I lowered my head to drag the flat of my tongue along the underside of him.

My name uttered as a curse from his lips sent a rush of heat straight to my already throbbing core. It spurred me on to take the head of his cock into my mouth and hollow out my cheeks while my tongue swirled around him. I reveled in the groans that I pulled out of him as I began a steady rhythm of stroking him with my hand around the root of his cock and my mouth bobbing up and down along the rest of him. His free hand fisted into my hair and encouraged me to move to the tempo that he wanted. His hips rocked into me shortly after, joined by a steady stream of moans that tumbled out of his parted lips.

Even still fully dressed, I was desperate for any sort of relief I could find for the pulsing wet heat between my legs. I slipped my hand out from beneath his to quickly fumble with the button and zipper of my jeans. Once I managed to get them undone my hand dove inside of my underwear to gather my own slick heat on my fingertips and rub it around my aching clit. The sight of me trying to find my own pleasure while using my mouth to give Loki his must have been too much for him, as he pulled my lips off of him with an obscene ’pop’.

He easily lifted me to my feet and pulled me to stand in between his spread legs. I frantically scrambled to pull my shirt and bra off while he helped me step out of my jeans and underwear. Once I was just as bare as him, his hands latched onto my waist and he lifted me to perch on his lap in a move so smooth and quick that a laugh tumbled from my lips. He chuckled softly in return and peppered my neck and jaw with light kisses.

Of course, those stopped when I reached between us to guide him against my wet and ready heat. He held completely still, his lips sealed over the soft skin of my neck, as I rubbed him against my wet outer folds teasingly, drawing an impatient moan from him and a gasp from myself as he grazed my clit. I positioned him at my weeping opening and a single impatient thrust of his hips encased him inside of my warmth. His head fell forward onto my shoulder once he was fully sheathed within me and his panting breaths tickled the bare skin of my chest. I clutched at his back desperately as I stretched around him. He was just so big, and if I was forced to guess, I would say that he might have even been slightly bigger in his true Frost Giant form.

“You are so tight,” he moaned reverently, rolling his hips ever-so-gently, pulling a matching pleasured groan from my throat and sending shocks of pleasure throughout my body.

I could already tell that this wasn’t going to last very long for either of us. My stomach was tight with the tension of my impending orgasm, and his lined brow was drawn together as he grabbed my ass with both hands to guide me up and down the length of him. This angle allowed my clit to rub against him just enough to bring me right to the edge, my legs tight and my breaths caught in my throat, but it wasn’t enough to send me over into oblivion.

Desperate for release, I pushed a hand between our writhing bodies to stimulate my hard clit. Loki watched me with lustful almost glowing red eyes. The sight drove him to thrust into me harder, faster, adding the slapping of our flesh together to the erotic sounds of our moans and breathy sighs that filled the room.

With one final stuttering thrust, he slammed my hips down onto his and emptied himself within me with a loud cry. The erotic sound of my name moaned through his parted blue lips was enough to trigger my own orgasm, and I clutched onto him in a wild attempt to stay tethered to reality as shocks and tremors rolled throughout me and fluttered over his spent cock still inside of me.

I forgot how to breathe. I forgot how to think. I forgot how to do anything other than ride the waves of pleasure and cling to him.

So great was the orgasm that I must have blacked out momentarily, because as I slowly became aware of my surroundings, I registered his hands rubbing my back soothingly, holding me upright and skating over the barely-healed wounds of my middle and upper back with such tender care and devotion. My head had fallen onto his shoulder and I rolled it to the side to leave a soft kiss on his pulse as it pounded in his throat.

“I love you, Loki,” I murmured, sleepy and content to fall limply against his chest.

I could feel his lips pulling back into a smile against the flushed and sweat-dampened skin of my shoulder. “And I, you, little one.”

~~~

“So are you always putting on this appearance if you’re technically a Frost Giant?” I asked softly, afraid to disturb the peace of our bedroom--Loki had been slowly moving his belongings over in the last month since I returned to the Compound--but my curiosity got the best of me. I traced meaningless shapes across his pectoral muscles as I lounged sprawled across his naked torso. Our bare legs were tangled together beneath the sheets and his arms were wrapped around my back and performing similar ministrations to my waist.

His low voice reverberated through his chest and against my cheek. “My true heritage was only revealed to me recently. It requires more effort to-”

I cut him off with a mischevious smirk, “Look like a blueberry popsicle.”

He chuckled and pinched my side, causing me to yelp and swat his chest with a satisfying ’smack’ that most definitely didn’t hurt him. “As I was saying, I have to actively work to hold the form of a Frost Giant as opposed to my Æsir appearance that you are currently pinning to the bed. I suppose it is subconscious to look this way,” he mused thoughtfully, the hint of disdain for his heritage barely lingering in his tone.

I shifted in the bed to cross my arms over his chest and rest my chin on them. This angle allowed me to look into his eyes more easily. He looked so peaceful and warm in the morning light, content even. Only the barest hint of doubt and self-loathing crinkled at the edges of his eyes. I would make him accept himself if it took the rest of my days.

“Well, I certainly enjoy,” I rolled my bare hips against his thigh emphatically, “both forms. And will continue to do so, as we did last night. Again,” I pinched his nipple, “and again,” I craned my neck to press a kiss to his jaw, “and again.”

I made to pull away to start the day, only to be reeled back onto the bed by his arms tightening around my waist and pulling me back so that I was suddenly pinned beneath him. He allowed enough of his weight to hold me down into the comfortable sheets, the length of his firm body pressing into me from thigh to chest. He cradled the sides of my head in his strong hands and tenderly stroked my temples with his thumbs as he stared down at me with a small smile.

“That will have to wait for another time, little one. I have a proposition for you, and I wish for you to listen to it in its entirety before you respond. Understood?”

“Somebody is bossy this morning. Sure, I’ll listen,” I agreed with a shrug of my shoulders. My hands came up to rest on his sides lightly and I drummed my fingers against his ribs idly.

“You have made great strides in your mental and physical recovery in the past month, and I am so proud of you for it. However, the threat of Hydra and Thanos returning continues to grow with each passing day, and I was speaking with your Avengers the other day. We believe that we may be able to expedite the healing process if you allow the Witch to see what was done to you, so we may better determine a strategy to combat it and bring you back to yourself. We need to have you fully prepared to defend yourself if the case calls for it.” He presented his plan clearly and calmly, but his temperate attitude didn’t lessen my heart thudding against my ribs or my fingers digging into his pale flesh.

I centered myself in the strength of his steady gaze. He would not have suggested this idea if he didn’t think it would help and if he didn’t trust Wanda. It didn’t make me feel much better about the situation, but that small nugget of knowledge stopped me from spiraling into a full-blown panic attack. I inhaled when he exhaled, timing myself to his breaths that pushed against my chest. Once I felt reasonably confident I wasn’t going to succumb to my fear, I frowned and looked at the door as if it was going to spring to life and attack me. “They are my enemies. They want to use me.”

His long fingers pushed gently on the sides of my head to bring my eyes back to his. He looked so confident, so sure, and yet so loving as he gazed down at me. “I promise you that they do not intend to use you or hurt you. I searched Stark’s mind for his intentions just yesterday to ensure your safety. They are concerned for you. I believe that the Witch can help me in restoring your mind to what it once was. You have improved so rapidly and have such control over yourself comparitively, but a small nudge in the right direction with your true memories may assist you a great deal. And as you do not want me to see what happened,” I shook my head, “then she is the only one who can help you at this time. I will not let her tamper with your memories. She will not remove or add anything, and most importantly, I will not leave your side.”

I let my head fall back into the pillows with a low groan. I hated the idea of anyone rifling around in my head; that is what got me into this mess in the first place. Now I didn’t know who to trust or what to believe except when it came to the man currently cradling me in his arms. But I also hated the pain on Loki’s face whenever he caught me off guard with his touch and I flinched away, or worse, threatened him with whatever nearby weapon I could find. I wanted the war inside my head to end. I wasn’t about to let him poke around inside my memories; I didn’t want him to see me that weak or brutalized, but I couldn’t continue to live with the trauma that gripped my thoughts like a vice. If it called for it, I wasn’t sure if I could defend myself, and that would only put him in danger as he tried to protect me as well as himself. So, I relented, shoving my fear deep down inside where it was quiet while we both got ready for the day.

Everyone that lived at the Compound, plus Tony, was scattered around the various couches and seats when we left the safe haven of our bedroom, attempting to look natural and doing a poor job of it. I could plainly see the bulge of a vein in Steve’s neck, the clenching of Tony’s hands together, Natasha’s head tilted toward us as she pretended to work on a tablet. Vision was the most obviously apprehensive of the bunch, his anxiety pouring off of him as he stood protectively over Wanda’s side. The only one who looked relatively calm was Thor, who beamed at Loki leading me by the hand into the room.

I watched them just as closely as they did me. My eyes darted between them to watch for an attack as Loki sat me down in my favorite spot on the couch. He didn’t let go of me for a second as he settled down beside me, pressing his chest into my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders for silent support. I did my best to push down the fear gnawing at my insides, looking up warily at Wanda who had moved to perch on the coffee table in front of me.

“I just want to see what they did to you, so we can try to put your mind back to where it was before. Is that alright?” she asked, regarding me as if I were a wild animal that had wandered into the safety of their home. I could tell that she was trying to be reassuring with her smile but her slightly widened eyes told a different story.

I tensed up to brace myself for the onslaught of trauma that was about to come my way. Loki took one of my hands in his and clutched it tightly in my lap. I lifted my eyes to him and he was leveling Wanda with a warning glare that would make anyone’s blood run cold. I hated this. I hated it so much that I wanted to scream and rip this room apart and hide away forever. But Loki thought this was what needed to be done, and he was watching over me, so I placed my trust in him. I relented, giving her a quick nod before closing my eyes and dropping my head and tilting my torso to press just a little more against the shoulder of the man who had sworn to protect me.

White hot pain exploded across my back, my ribs, my face. Tony Stark is your enemy. Wanda Maximoff is-. Electricity burned through my body. Too many injections to count, each scorching me from the inside out. Hunger clawed at my stomach. No peace. No rest. Only pain.

She ripped out of my head and I released the breath that I had been unknowingly holding. My entire body was one giant clenched muscle as I struggled to hold onto the present against the barrage of memories that she had pulled to the surface.

That cane whirring through the air before it smacked against my broken flesh. No--Loki’s strong arms around me.

Pain blossoming across my exposed skin. Loki’s rough fingers dragging along those same pathways, pulling pleasure from deep within me.

Each terrible vision that tried to force itself into the forefront of my thoughts was replaced with Loki, and I knew it had to be him putting those memories there, as I was still too frazzled to do so myself.

But for all of his efforts, still my ears roared, drowning out every sound around me. I opened my clenched eyes and lifted my head from the safety of his embrace to look around the room as I struggled to place myself anywhere but back in that hellhole of a torture chamber.

“Get her out of here, now!” Tony shouted, his voice far away and muffled, and I turned to him to see glass levitating around the room. A quick glance behind him clued me in that I must have shattered the wall of windows at some point in time. Wanda and Vision were already out of the room, but Natasha, Steve, Sam, and Thor were all standing with Tony, staring at me as if I were some sort of broken monster. Metal ripped itself from the wall and flew to form a crudely made barrier between Loki and me and everyone else. The glass and iron coffee table Wanda had been sitting on groaned before turning in on itself, the glass that made up the tabletop exploding and hovering in the air. It was as if I wasn’t controlling the chaos, but I knew that some part of me deep down was doing everything it could to protect me and this was how it saw fit to do so.

Strong arms scooped me up and cradled me to a lean chest, and within moments we were in my strangely untouched room--apparently my destruction hadn’t extended this far. I forced myself to pay attention to Loki as he sat down on the couch and shifted me so that I was situated in his lap. I almost strangled him with my arms wrapped around his neck so tightly but he didn’t make a sound of discomfort. I closed my eyes and pressed my face into his neck as I fought against the fear that boiled inside of me.

I would not give in to the darkness wanting to overtake my vision. I would not give in to the panic threatening to steal my breath away. I would not succumb to the fear clawing at my throat and pricking at my eyes.

“Shhh, little one. I will never let anything happen to you. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Focus on breathing with me,” he murmured, voice honey and warmth as his lips pressed against the shell of my ear.

I did as he instructed and pressed my ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat and breath, trying to match mine to his. His hands stroked small circles into my hip and back as he used his comforting touch to try to soothe away my panic. Once I felt like I had more a grip on myself, I pulled away to look up at him, only to see his eyes filled with sadness and rage. He smoothed a hand over my forehead and left a lingering kiss on my temple before settling me on the couch and striding briskly out of the room.

I don’t know how long I sat there, dumbstruck, before a heavy knock echoed throughout the room.

“Milady, may I come in?”

I hadn’t let anyone besides Loki inside since Tony had barged in that first day. But Thor had been slowly worming his way back into more neutral territory lately, and he also might have some information on where Loki went. I stood up and crossed my arms as I walked over to stand several feet away from the door. He may be the God of Thunder, but I would still be ready to do my best to kick his ass if I needed to. He’d win, but I could still try.

“Let him in this one time, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” I instructed with a heavy sigh.

The door whirred open to reveal the smiling god leaning against the frame casually. When I only stared at him silently he strolled into the room to plop down heavily on my couch. He sprawled out with his arms stretched across the back of it and his legs spread out before him, looking right at home despite the tension pouring off of me.

“Where’d he go?” I cut right to the chase.

Thor scrubbed a hand over his face to reveal a much less pleasant expression tugging on the downturn of his lips at my question. “Tony tracked the vehicle that he commandeered to one of three Hydra bases that we are aware of currently.”

Oh. So Loki finally snapped and went to go blow off some steam be ripping some Hydra assholes in half. I couldn’t say that I was sad for the inevitable loss of life, but I did pity the people that would face the brunt of his rage. He was not one for mercy at the best of times.

I latched onto the one absurd fact I could to stop the mental images of him ravaging an entire building full of people. “When did he learn how to drive? Can you drive?”

The blinding, kind smile was back on his tanned face. “Sam instructed us both while you were training with Natasha. Tony thought it best that we learn how to operate any and all vehicles around the Compound in case of emergency.”

“Of course he did,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. Always one to be prepared, Tony, and he had given Loki the tools needed to go out and wreak havoc on the world because I wasn’t strong enough to handle myself.

“Sit with me,” Thor instructed with easy arrogance, scooting over on the couch so that there was several feet of empty space to the side of him. He acted like the king he had been born to be, just expecting people to follow his orders without any protest.

But I was not his subject, I wasn’t even his friend, so I stubbornly shifted on my feet and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. It earned me a nod from him in acknowledgment of my decision and a shrug of his shoulders.

“Very well. He had asked me to keep watch over you if anything should ever happen to him, and although I greatly doubt that this is what he had intended, I swore to him that I would and I am not one to shirk my duties. So, if you do not mind, I will wait for his return in your shared chambers? If not I can station myself outside of your door, but this is far more comfortable.”

I wasn’t sure of it, but I knew that I couldn’t take Loki in a fight, and I knew that Thor was physically stronger than him, even if only marginally. Was it wise to let Thor just hang out in here? Did I care about his comfort? He had shown me nothing but kindness since returning from Hydra, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt me. If he did he’d already had ample opportunities to do so in the last month. I kept my eyes locked on him as I backed up to my bed and crawled onto it, watching him closely for any twitch or flicker of movement that could be taken as hostile.

“You stay there and I’ll stay here. Got it?”

The hulking man nodded and closed his eyes, tilting his head onto the back of the couch. I watched his breathing even out over the course of several minutes, and only minutely relaxed when I was sure that he was asleep. Some bodyguard. I couldn’t decide whether or not I was insulted or touched that Loki wanted to make sure I was watched over in his absence. I was more than capable of taking care of myself, especially if my earlier performance was anything to go by.

I wanted nothing more than to curl up on the bed and relax, maybe read a book or doodle, but I was too keyed up with Thor present and Loki in possible danger to even attempt any sort of rest. That left my mind to run away with itself as I sat there propped up against the headboard.

I was able to destroy an entire wall of windows without blinking an eye. I didn’t even think about it and the industrial iron coffee table had collapsed in on itself. I had levitated a room full of glass shards while my mind had been completely and totally focused on the others in the room. What had Hydra done to me that I could now manipulate all these things, and with such ease?

Testing myself, I reached my hand out toward the wooden chair that Loki had stationed by my bedside. I barely tugged on the energy pulsing within me and it rose several feet in the air, not even shaking as I held it with only my thoughts. A twist of my wrist spun it around in slow, controlled circles, and I only had to relax my hand and it fell back to the floor with a loud thud, jolting the slumbering god on my couch awake. He watched me silently with appraising eyes, and I resumed my exploration of my powers once it seemed like he was content to do so. I held out my hand and with the faintest of effort, a long, thin piece of metal came loose from the doorframe and settled into my palm. All it took was drawing my hand over the cool material for the end to warp and bend into a fine point.

I jumped up off the bed when the door to my room opened and held up the makeshift weapon like a spear over my head. Thor was in front of me before I could blink, blocking my view of the door with his broad shoulders. The defensive action startled me enough that I lowered my weapon to my side as I peered around him to see who had come into my room.

Loki strode into the room swiftly, but I could detect a heaviness in his bare shoulders that also dragged at his feet. Where had his shirt gone? From the flecks of blood dotting his arms, I assumed that I didn't want to know. He locked eyes with Thor and nodded his head once, which seemed to be a dismissal, as Thor shot a quick smile my way before leaving the room. I was swept into Loki’s embrace as soon as the door closed, and although I had been worried sick that he was going to get injured, I couldn’t stop myself from melting into him.

“Are you hurt?” I asked into his neck. His skin tasted faintly of sweat and dirt, hinting at what he had gotten up to while he had disappeared.

“No, love. I am perfectly healthy,” he assured me.

“Good.” I detangled myself from his arms so that I could land a punch as hard as I could against his chest. He didn’t even flinch while my knuckles felt like they were broken. Real smart move there, punching a man who can deflect bullets with his skin. His face was expressionless as he stared down at me, and it only fueled my anger. “You can’t do that shit! I only knew where you were because Thor told me. You don’t get to just run away without saying something, anything!”

He arched a brow and tilted his head down at me, narrowing his eyes. “I answer to no one.”

It was hard to intimidate the giant of a god, but hell if I didn’t try by mimicking his pose and crossing my arms over my stomach. “No, you don’t. But we’re in a relationship now, and that means that I love you, damnit. So you can’t just run off and fuck some people up without either letting me come as back up or you telling me where you’re going. Because I care about you, and it would end me if anything happened to you. I was scared for you, Loki.”

The hardness in his face softened and he reached out to brush his hands along my upper arms. “You are angry because you were worried about me?”

I shook out the pain in my hand with a grimace and rolled my eyes. “Yes, smart one. I know what they’re capable of…”

Careful not to jostle my injured hand, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to tuck me back into his chest. “I apologize for not explaining myself earlier. When we were in the living area, I was ensuring that the Witch didn’t do any damage to your memories and…” he trailed off with a heavy sigh that shuddered throughout his body.

“You saw what she saw, what happened to me,” I supplied quietly. I let my injured hand press against the cool skin of his stomach to soothe the throbbing ache there. It wasn’t as effective as ice, but it’d do in a pinch.

He made a quiet noise of affirmation and took my hand from his stomach to carefully cradle and cool the injury more effectively. “I did.”

So the sight of my torture had driven him to violence? It would fit the suddenness of his departure and his rash behavior. He wasn't known for being the most level-headed in the best of times, and his protectiveness over me was apparent to anyone who saw us together. He had only been trying to protect me. It was sweet and infuriating, which seemed to sum him up perfectly. I craned my head up to look at him. “Next time at least let me know where you’re going, okay? You would ask the same of me.” In reality, he would demand that I stay here while he took care of the threat, but I didn’t need to bring that up when we both knew it was true.

He pecked my lips gently with a soft smile. “Of course, my love. Forgive me for worrying you.”

“Fine.” I tried to hide my placated smile with an angry grimace that I knew he didn’t buy. “Jerk.”

~~~

It took weeks of work to get me to anything close to resembling ‘normal’ after Loki convinced me to continue the test treatment. Weeks of Wanda leaning over me as I sat on my bed in Loki’s arms, her eyes and hands glowing red as she delved deeper into my mind, locking away each moment of torture and agony that I experienced while I was away. And while she worked, Loki brought each happy memory with the Avengers that he could dig up to the forefront of my thoughts, reinforcing the notion that we were family, I was loved, and they never set out to hurt me.

It was thankless, never-ending work that often ended with me shuddering against Loki as I struggled to handle the invasion and manipulation from their very powerful minds. It left Wanda exhausted as well, so tired that she had to be carried out of my bedroom by Vision--who never left her side when she was around me. I couldn’t blame him, given my track record, but some part of me was deeply hurt by the hostility in his eyes as he would take her to rest.

The only one who didn’t seem to be drained from the exercises was Loki, but he was a god after all. If they did affect him negatively, he hid it well as he held me for as long as I needed after each session, rubbing the tension from my muscles and lavishing praises upon my fragile and overworked spirit. If you had asked me six months ago if I would have thought that the God of Mischief would be nursing me back to health I would have laughed right in your face.

He was the constant anchor in my life. Keeping me grounded as I slowly integrated back into a tentative routine with the others. His hand upon my lower back or my arm guided me through the world and kept me from spiraling down into the darkness whenever something triggered the memories Wanda had been working so hard to push down and shut away. It was him I turned to when the nightmares wrenched me from sleep, his arms reaching out to hold me to him before he’d even fully woken up. Without his steady presence at my side, there’s no telling where I would be when it came to my mental state.

~~~

“Did you get that email-” Tony asked as he leaned over his desk and fiddled with a rocket for his suit.

“Sent off to Roger in SHIELD? Sent it this morning,” I cut him off.

“And call back-”

“Mr. Smith over in Programming? Handled that this morning. He won’t be bothering us anymore.”

“And that interview-”

“Scheduled for this Friday at two pm, after your lunch date with Pepper. I made reservations at that Italian place she likes so much. I also hired two new interns that you asked for, had your shipment of wiring sent up to your main lab, scheduled pizzas for delivery for the gang tonight, sent out for your dry cleaning, and called and sent up an appointment for your doctor to come over to take another look at your shoulder,” I replied matter-of-factly, finally looking up at him from my cell phone where had been glancing through an email.

Tony looked taken back and took his glasses off to drop them onto the desk. “How’d you know my shoulder is messed up?”

“When you’re thinking you tend to rub it,” I shrugged. “Plus, Pepper told me.”

“You talk to Pepper?” he asked, looking a little too shocked at that information. Had he met either of us?

“Of course. She is basically running everything around here. And she lives with you. She just got a little busy and needed me to set it up. We talk about everything,” I chuckled, wiggling my eyebrows.

“Jesus. If you weren’t so good at your job I’d have to fire you. But I couldn’t let you live with all the dirt you’ve got on me, and the cover-up for your death would be a logistical nightmare.” Tony rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“You wouldn’t know what to do without me, Mr. Stark!” I called, pulling a bottle of ibuprofen from my back pocket and tossing it to him before walking away. “Take this for the headache. I’m going to go meet with Janet about putting out some fires.”

“You’re the best, kid!” he called to my retreating form. I only smiled to myself and waved back at him.

#smut tw #sex tw #violence tw #blood tw #torture tw #language tw #to keep you safe #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #loki/ofc

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ithinkthingsaboutstuff · 5 years

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Going Rogue:In Lock-Up With You

This is a fic series, that looks at the ecosystem of Arkham asylum, How the rogues interactions with one another and how therapy is or is not administered. The partnerships, the connections, the feud’s and the all the madness that rest inside the padded walls.

Going Rogue:

part 1: In Lock-Up With You.

The gates at Arkham always screech but not the squeaks you would usually find on an old rusted gate. The sounds that came from Arkham always have an element of dread, the gates here howled with more than scraping metal. Sounds so loud and so haunting like the screams of all who came before could not leave as their souls got stuck to the gate and are now forced to try and shake their way out. Arkham much like its gates is full of sounds that can’t leave, behind the bars hides monsters and underneath those monsters hide the shattered shells of men and women, or at least that’s what they say.

‘So, how are you feeling today Victor?’

The man or rather what is left of this man, rubs his thumb on the back of his left hand, the sound of scrapping ice accompanying the movement. The young doctor in front of him churning in her seat in both impatience and an effort to warm herself.

‘Feeling?’

His voice vibrated like a whispering echo bouncing off metal walls.

‘My feelings were frozen, along with my Nora.’

‘Yes, Nora, how is she?’

‘I do not know, no one will tell me, they just keep her away, behind glass, beyond my reach.’

‘I’m sure they are working hard to cure her.’

‘Oh, yes, they will try, and they will fail, as they have failed time and time again, but nothing any of them do, will ever be as much as I am willing to do to help my Nora. So, until they realise that, Nora and I will remain frozen together.’

The doctor shakes her pen across the page in front of her, the speed of which she wrote was a symptom of the cold icy room and her wish to move the session along as to not stay longer then she absolutely had to.

‘I see, we need to do more work on that, ok, how have you been in your cell, are you comfortable?’

‘I will not die in the night if that is what you mean, but your notion of comfort is something I have all but given up on.’

‘Now Dr Freeze that is a very defeated mind set, there is no need for hopelessness.’

The man looked at the doctor his eyes glassy and cold, his blue face veiled in white granite, his stare full of icy indifference.

‘It must be very simple to say that, when you are the one who is able to leave this place, able to feel the autumn breeze, able to feel the light of the sun on your cheek and the warm embrace of the one you love. Oh, no, Doctor it is not hopelessness I feel, or rather anything I feel that troubles me, It is what I no longer feel, what I no longer have, what I no longer can hold in arms, warmth that is forever out of my reach, that, Doctor, is what troubles me.’

The doctor shifts in her seat and looks at her notes and then to her watch. She then looks the man in his frosted eyes.

‘I think that’s as far as you and I are going to get today, I have to go see my other patient, now.’

She rushed through her words as she gathered her papers, uneasiness filled her but the tension did not faze the man before her as if it froze before it could reach him. He sat there, starring, waiting, as she left him there.

‘The young are so impatient, just as we once were, Nora.’

The doctor went into the hallway where the guards were standing shoulder to shoulder either side of the door, she then took off the large parka letting out a shiver as she did and placed it back on the hook that was next to the guards.

‘Chilly isn’t it?’

She said to the guard as she brushed some ice off the now hanging coat.

‘The room or the thing in it?’

He answered with a soft chuckle, she ignored his comment.

‘He just has such an icy shell, I feel I need a lot more time with him, but I have my other patient to see.’

‘Right, you got the laughy one next, good luck with that maniac.’

Before she could answer there was a loud commotion making its way up the hall.

‘Unbelievable, unacceptable, It was a lucky guess nothing more, you hear me, Batman, you have not out smarted me, you have only postponed your defeat at my hands, you hear me, you hear me.’

There he was, a big black shadow making its way silently down the hall, he was not an unfamiliar presence but always a commanding one. Darkness pulled into him swallowing light creating a thick blank void that surrounded him. He glided down the hall with a struggling man cladded in green.

‘Ngyma’s back,’

One of the guards sighed,

‘Yep, just can’t help himself,’

The other replied.

‘Ha, yeah, I mean the guy holds the record for breaking out of this place, he never gets caught and we don’t know how he keeps doing it. If he would just lay low and get out of the city, he would be sitting pretty on an island somewhere laughing it up, but no, got to poke the bat, ever damn time, It’s just getting sad.’

‘Crazy is as crazy dose huh, so who won the pool?’

‘I think Dan, he had two weeks,’

‘How much was it this time?’

‘About six hundred and two shift changes,’

The other man gave a long approving whistled in response.

‘Not bad.’

The Doctor thumbed her notes as The Bat dragged the other man down the hall, The Bat made everybody nervous, like you had to be on your best behaviour even if you were afraid of him, especially if you were afraid of him. The Bat would come and go, to drag somebody in or to drag something out of somebody. He got dear dreary Arkham to bend to his will, something she did not often do, but Arkham was always kind to those who knew how to speak to her, and The Bat always whispers just the right things.

As The Bat moved past the two men and the doctor, Edward Nygma still struggled in his grip, He had caught the prince of puzzles in the midst of a bank robbery or was it a museum heist or was it a city wide scavenger hunt, the truth is it does not matter as the point is never the physical goal but rather the thrill of the game. A game that Edward Nygma always wins, except when it comes to The Bat for The Bat never plays by the rules. Down the hall they stumble as they reach deeper into the asylum and the rooms became increasingly familiar, Edward started to slowdown and loosen with each step he knew that Arkham’s loving embrace was about to take him once again, so he did not fight it.

‘Oh, to be back home again, mind you Batman, having Arkham for a home is much like having a muse for a mother, you become weak at her magistery and awe at their beauty, but there is no warmth, no real love found here, just somewhere familiar to whittle away your mind, while you wait for the feeling of Jamais vu to creep in and take you.’

The Bat still dragged him silently through the halls, he had loosened his grip, nowhere near enough for a chance to escape him, but a bruise will not be left now that Edward has stopped fighting him.

‘Now don’t be like that Batman, you know how this goes by now, you drag me in, I stay for a while, I break out, you and me play a few games, you cheat I end up back in here, and round and round we go.’

‘I will find out how you keep escaping, Nygma,’

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll try, but that my dear Batman is one of my many riddles you cannot solve. Speaking of which, how about another, I make two people out of one. What am I?’

‘A Mirror.’

‘Oh, I think Harvey might disagree with you on that one,’

Edward let out a smug laugh,

‘Oh, Batman, it’s too easy with you sometimes.’

As they reached the elevator that lead to the cells the guard standing there stepped forward,

‘I’ll take him from here Batman,’

Edward laughed,

‘Oh, why, is it because you want be to escape your arms this time, as opposed to just slipping away from your so-called watchful eye, hmm, Bolton.’

‘You’re not getting to me today Ngyma,’

Edward gave a sly grin.

‘Oh, no, would not dream of it, but you have it backwards, you can’t get me, that’s why you got pushed to elevator duty,’

‘You will not be leaving here again Nygma, you hear me, not happening, not one more god damn time. I can promise you that Batman.’

Bolton’s face turned to hard stone and The Bat said nothing as he passed Edward over to him.

‘Well, this is where we part ways Batman, its been fun, until next time, c'est la vie.’

The dark figure moved back down the hall as Bolton pulled Edward into the elevator.

‘Hey, Bolton, Hey, Bolton, Hey, Bolton, Hey,’

‘What, Now, Ngyma,’

‘I have no feet, no hands, no wings, but I climb to the sky. What am I?’

‘Not, playing, your games.’

‘Come on its an easy one, even you could get it.’

Silence.

‘No? well, I’ll just tell you, shall I, its Smoke, similar to the kind coming out of your ass, when you told Batman you can stop me getting out of here.’

Bolton then hit a button on the elevator making it come to a complete halt.

‘I don’t think I made myself clear,’

Bolton then grabbed Edward by the collar of his shirt.

‘You are not getting out of here again.’

‘What are you doing? Stop.’

Bolton then punched the other man in the face, Edward’s head hit the wall of the elevator as he slid to the ground. Bolton then winds back his leg and begin to kick the man on the ground, harder and faster with each one. Edward yelled out but no one could hear him and even if they did there was no guarantee anyone would come. Bolton’s foot began to stomp all over Edward body, Edward was not a stranger to a beating by his father, by his classmates and The Bat, but this was different. This time was the first time that Edward was not sure if he was going to walk away. As he knew his father was too much of a coward to murder him, that his classmates where all just children looking for an easy target and The Bat had his one rule, and if he were ever to break it, he would not waste it on him. But Bolton had a point to make and Edward was not sure how far he was willing to go to prove it, as Edward is also very familiar with the great length’s men are willing go to prove themselves. Bolton then grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall, so they were face to bloody face.

‘You aren’t leaving here again Nygma, but since you have trouble understanding that let me spell it out. If you think you can just walk out of here, I’ll break your legs. If you think you can crawl out of here, I’ll break your arms. If you think you can talk your way out of here, I’ll smash your skull. Do you get it now, you’re not leaving, as of right now you’re on lock-up, you and all the other freaks. You’ve all have had run of this place for too long, but not anymore, not anymore.’

Bolton then let go of Edward’s collar and restarted the elevator, Bolton then Grabbed Edward’s arm and held him upright. As the elevator opened again Bolton then guided Edward into the hall where a man was sitting at a desk.

‘Oh, Nygma’s back, guess I won the pool, huh.’

‘Yeah you sure did Dan,’

‘Batman really did a number on him today, hey Bolt’

Dan then looked Edward up and down with mild concern.

‘Actually, he might have overdone it this time, well, for Nygma anyway.’

‘I’ll throw him in his cell, you can send up a doctor later.’

Bolton then pulled Edward along. Edward was in a daze, fresh blood running down his face. His thoughts were not straight enough for him to voice them, he could only go along to whatever his new fate may be. Bolton dragged him along the cells. The cell block in Arkham was a maze and that’s not a colourful metaphor, after one of the many escapes and explosions it took all of Gotham’s wisdom to make this new cell block in Arkham to be designed as a maze so that anyone trying to get out would have one hell of a time trying to getting away. How effective that was remained to be seen but the doctors certainly had a hard time finding their patients.

As Edward carried his heavy footsteps and his heavy thoughts, Arkham began to sing to him with its chorus of bellowing screams and high pitch cry’s, along with the percussion of the bashing and clawing limbs desperately hitting and scraping at the walls. The symphony of the insane, the melody of monsters or the affirmation of animals whichever way you look at it Arkham held them tight in its embrace, cold and suffocating.

Bolton made it to the right cell, he then uncuffed the man he was holding and then held him by the scruff of his neck before throwing him into the cell. Edward landed face first on the ground, he laid there unmoving, hands by the side of his face, blood pooling at his top lip. Bolton stared down at him and mocked.

‘You’ll be fine, for now. As long you stay in lock-up.’

He then made his way down the hall whistling cheerfully as he did and smiled at his good work. For Arkham is a madhouse filled with monsters but not all the monsters here are behind cells.

to be continued

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larrykins · 6 years

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MYTHS, LEGENDS, LIES AND STORIES: An Attempt to a Loki-centric Fanfic

AUTHOR’S NOTES:

The last fan fiction I wrote was Absolution (for Broadchurch) which was two years ago. I haven’t returned into creative writing in years. To be honest, I’m just too tired to think sometimes and moreo ften than not, I find myself lost in my thoughts. Most of the story ideas I have remains as ideas because I am just too damn lazy to write these days. Now, confined at home for almost two weeks due to chicken pox, I I have the time to sit and write down these story ideas in my head.

This is my first attempt to write a fan fiction that is Loki-centric. I have so many feels after watching Thor; Ragnarok last November and frankly I got hooked in so many fanfictions about Loki. I am putting aside my fear of writing a fan fiction about Loki and decided to let go much like what I did when I wrote “After Life” (a Soujiro-centric fan fiction under Rurouni Kenshin). I do not know whether I’d be able to get Loki’s characterization correct but I am using his MCU incarnation and will reference a few materials from Loki: Journey Into Mystery and Loki: Agent of Asgard comic books. I do hope you enjoy this work. This is me and my imagination running wild.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Loki or any other Marvel Characters that appears in this fan fiction. All characters belong to MARVEL. All original characters that will appear in this fan fiction is min though.

gifs and pictures are not mine. Credit goes to the photographer(s) and creator(s).

MYTHS, LEGENDS, LIES AND STORIES

Only one of you can ascend to the throne. But both of you were born to be kings.

Loki opened his eyes. His fitful slumber was interrupted by a gentle ray of sunlight peeking through the windows. He groaned in frustration as a realization dawned on him. It was another boring day in this hel hole in Midgard. Closing his eyes as if to muster the courage to get up, Loki consoled himself with the thought that at least this time he had a room and he was not confined in some glass prison.

Midgard was on high alert after Thor and the rest of the surviving Asgardians arrived in the Grand Master’s ark. Migardians, while fond of Thor, was not overly keen on welcoming a few hundred survivors from Asgard who could potentially be as powerful as he or Thor. Heimdall and Valkyrie were surely powerful Asgardians but they are far too loyal to Thor to even think of conquering Midgard.

He was a different case however. As Loki got up, he smiled at the memory of seeing Midgard’s welcoming party for him. High-powered artillery fit to incapacitate an “alien” (as what Midgardians call those who come from space) were on stand-by. A replica of the handcuffs and muzzle he wore when he was captured in New York was immediately placed on him. Thor pleaded with the Midgardians and tried to regal them with the story of his heroic rescue of the Asgardians but apparently it was not enough to vouch for his “change of heart”. In the end, it was Midgard’s Sorcerer and master of the New York Sanctum, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange who took the responsibility to be his keeper.

Which brings us to Loki’s present situation. As he got up from his bed in his appointed room in 177A Bleecker Street, Loki opened the curtains of his window to allow the soft morning light to enter the room. He raised his hands and observed his wrists as a thin band of light briefly shined before it disappeared.

As Doctor Strange took over the responsibility of watching him (since according to the sorcerer, he was among the top 10 of his most dangerous beings watch list), Doctor Strange installed a power dampening spell which limits his powers to mere party tricks. It was only Doctor Strange who can adjust or remove the spell on him.

The god of mischief and lies has been reduced to an almost mortal existence. His adopted older brother on the other hand, the god of thunder and king of Asgard was busy rebuilding Asgard on the place where they had last seen Odin (and encountered their older sister Hela). Norway and the European Union was kind enough to allow the Asgardians refuge on that place.

I am the better diplomat. Came the bitter thought as he slammed his fist against the window. Thankfully it did not break (because he will never hear the end of it from the second rate sorcerer) and the same time, it was a bitter reminder of how weak he has become.

But both of you were born to be kings.

Odin’s words from a distant memory. Loki smiled and his reflection on the window smiled back at him. Yes, he and Thor were born as heirs to the throne but one of them was the unwanted heir. He was neither welcomed in Jotunheim and Hel would freeze before Asgard sees a frost giant ascend its golden throne.

Odin’s words were neither truth nor lies; they were not empty promises too.

He was king of nothing. His entire existence was built on a lie.

”WOOONNGG!!!” The loud shrieking outside his room was enough to cut any more thoughs from Loki’s morning musings. Pushing himself away from the window, Loki decided to prepare and join the rest of the occupants of the Sanctum for breakfast.

----OoO----

“I swear you are trying to kill me.” Zelma Stanton said as Wong served a cup of tea to the energetic librarian and apprentice of Doctor Strange. She was about to make another remark but she was rendered speechless as Loki waltzed inside the open-spaced breakfast area. Doctor Strange and Wong eyed him warily and followed his every motion. It was a daily dance routine that he has gotten accustomed to since becoming a “guest” in the New York sanctum.

Loki took the seat opposite Zelma. Carefully placing the napkin on his lap, Loki chose to have the freshly baked bagel and cream cheese for breakfast. As he was spreading the cream cheese on his bagel, Doctor Strange spoke. “Your brother sends word that he will come and visit you this week. Seems like the Asgardians are settling well in Norway.”

“Visit? He is more likely to check if I am up to something here.” Loki responded.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Strange agrees. “So be good won’t you.” Loki rolled his eyes in response to Strange.

“Tea?” Wong offered.

“Early Gray with milk.”

“How come you ask him and he gets to choose his tea?” Zelma complained. “And here you give me another tentacle tea with lemon squeeze. Talk about bias Wong.”

Wong was about to respond to Zelma when a portal opened in the breakfast room. A young woman with dark brown hair messily tied in a pony tail appeared from the portal. Wisps of hair beautifully framed her face as her amber eyes seem to sparkle in amusement.

“Looks like I am in time for breakfast.” She cheerfully announced as the portal closed behind her.

“And the prodigal apprentice returns.” Wong teased. Setting down the teapot, Wong opened his arms as the young woman ran towards him and embraced him.

“I am not a prodigal apprentice. Doctor Strange ‘loaned’ me to Thor to teach Asgardian scholars about Midgard.” The woman responded as she glared at Strange. Strange just smiled at her.

“Good to have you back though.” Zelma declares as she stood from her chair to give the young woman a welcome hug. As soon as Zelma released the young woman from her embrace, she turned to Loki.

“Good Morning Prince Loki. Your brother says he misses you and that he looks forward to visit you this week.”

“Doctor Strange have relayed that message to me already.” Loki retorts gently. “And welcome back Lady Brielle.” Loki offers.

“Please, Brielle is just fine. I’ve had enough of the ‘lady’ title to last me a lifetime! Asgardians and their Victorian sensibilities.” She counters as she takes the seat beside Loki.

The breakfast table was then filled with lively chatter and friendly banter. Loki mused as he carefully observes Brielle how her presence easily changed the atmosphere of the room and the dynamics of its occupants. In the months he had spent in the sanctum, he had several interactions with Doctor Strange’s valet and guardian, Wong, his librarian and apprentice Zelma and his other apprentice Brielle Aine McKenzie.

Strange as his sworn keeper has always been guarded around him despite disguising it under intellectual conversations. Wong have always regarded him with careful measure of caution while Zelma occasionally converses with him but he realized that his mere presence unnerves the woman. Brielle was Zelma’s complete opposite however. While he knows that he intimidates her, the woman has never took a step back whenever they discuss and debate. She possesses the cool and calm intellectual facade of Strange but underneath it all is a fiery and fierce creature prepared to tackle any obstacle before her.

“Brielle Aine. Your name suits you perfectly.” Loki commented as he smiled. They were in the middle of a heated argument about the true meaning of freedom when Brielle lost her temper and pushed him in the mirror dimension.

“Your compliments won’t save you from this argument Loki, Prince of Asgard.” She chides. She was in her battle stance.

“God’s bravest and brilliant woman. Whoever gave you that name must have seen into your future.” He quips. He raises his arm as if surrendering already.

“My name has nothing to do with what we were discussing. Freedom is not something you derive from fear and subjugation. Freedom is the choice to follow what you believe in.”

“And from that argument darling, I do have the freedom to conquer Midgard since I believe that to be its benevolent leader would mean to give freedom to Midgardians.” Loki argued.

“Where is freedom if we fear you and fear for our very life. That is not freedom, that is a prison.”

“And so you are prepared to fight me to prove your point then?” He inquires. “Punching me in the face to make me agree with you is not freedom at all.”

“No it won’t.” Brielle answers confidently. “But it will give me one hell of a satisfaction that I punched the would-be conqueror of New York in the face.”

‘A warrior indeed’ Loki muses as he listened to Brielle’s story about her ‘classes’ with the Asgardian scholars. ‘And brilliant as the sun, it warms and burns at the same time’.

----OoO----

Loki was not really allowed to leave the Sanctum. Not that he blames Strange for that. New Yorkers were still recovering from the trauma his failed invasion has caused and he knew that walking around New York would provoke people to attack him just for vengeance. Loki values his life and his keen sense of self-preservation has always kept him out of sticky situations. The last thing he would want was to die in Midgard from an attack by the Midgardians because he is ‘almost’ mortal.

And so, he has found a quiet reprieve in the sanctum’s library. Zelma was quiet enough to allow him to read in peace. He was in no mood to spar today despite the fact the Wong generously offered to spar with him. Loki preferred the quiet of the library especially now that too many unwanted thoughts have plagued him since he woke up.

Your mother calls me.

I love you my sons.

A moment of sentiment creeped into Loki’s being as he heard and remembered Odin’s last words to him and Thor. Did the mighty king of Asgard truly loved him as a son? Was it sentiment that moved Odin to bring Laufey’s unwanted child to Asgard?

“What am I?” Loki asks.

“You are my son.” Odin answers.

He never really was his son. The thing about Odin is that his words were never plain. He’d lead you to thinking that he was speaking of a fact but underneath that lies more meaning and more messages. Odin’s words were like a cipher, you have to decode it in order to truly understand it. Odin was never a man of simplicity when it comes to his words. He was a wordsmith.

A silver tongue just like him.

The truth about mortality is that it leads you to questions everything about yourself. So many things to do with so little time. So many dreams to plan but none really turn out as you envision it. Loki, being almost mortal, have come to a moment in his long existence that causing mischief had become tiresome and evaluating what he knows about himself has become more excruciating. The god of mischief and lies’ life has been founded on an intricately woven lie. It would have been better if he was abandoned in Jotunheim or have died in the void.

The Void. Another moment in his life that blurred everything he knew about himself. The Void and The Other made him question what is real and what is not. It tormented him in so many ways that made him fear beyond logic. And his failure to conquer Midgard had already sealed his fate. It was only a matter of time. Not even the sanctum can protect him from his fate. This, everything that he experiences now, were just a momentary reprieve. The inevitable would be coming.

And he chooses to use this momentary reprieve to ponder on his existence.

I have grown soft. He thinks.

“Just in case you haven’t noticed, you haven’t really turned a page in that book you are reading. I wonder if you even understood that page or you were merely projecting an image that you are reading.”

Loki looked up and saw Brielle leaning against the library’s doors. Her sling bag was around her and she was holding her coat. Loki cleared his throat as he closed the book, doing his best to regain his composure. Brielle laughed softly at him.

“Are you heading out?” He inquired. “You just got back from Norway.”

“I have to get a few things from my office in the university.” She responded. “Would you like to come?”

It took Loki five seconds to register and comprehend what he had just heard. He had a surprised look on his face while she looked at him determinedly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, do you want to come?” She repeated. Her eyes locked on his piercing green eyes that were full of questions.

“Strange won’t...”

“I already asked permission from Doctor Strange. He is confident that you will be under control since he has cast a limiting spell on you. I may not be as strong as the sanctum’s master but I am also confident in my own abilities that I can take-on a de-poweered demigod.” She explained. Loki looked at her incredulously. She smiled at him warmly. “Since you still have a little magic in you, you think you can cast a glamour or disguise? I wouldn’t want the Prince of Asgard to be mobbed by angry New Yorkers.”

----OoO----

It was his first time out of the sanctum since he arrived six months ago. He was seeing New York from a different perspective. He saw it before atop Stark’s Tower but seeing the city from the ground was a far more different experience. He walked closely behind Brielle. The last thing he needed was to get lost since he doesn’t have enough magic to transport him back to the sanctum.

New York is indeed a concrete jungle, Loki concluded.

“Jeez, you could have chosen a more subtle disguise?” Brielle admonishes.

“I believe I have chosen the perfect disguise. Polished, sophisticated and commanding. It is very appropriate for this city.” Loki retorts proudly as he examined his reflection from the cart of the train they had ridden.

(In case you are wondering, this what I had in mind when I imagined Loki’s disguise.)

“And I look like your trashy personal assistant. Feels like I am walking with that famous British actor that every female student I have is going nuts over with.” She rants as her companion offered her a smug smile. Loki examined their reflections and he could not help but agree to her analogy. She was after all wearing a baggy coat, faded jeans and worn-out chucks. Her scarf was hastily wrapped around her neck. Whereas he, he wore a three-piece suit and a trench coat to compliment his polished look. He changed his hair color from black to blonde and wore a pair of eye glasses that made his green eyes look like deep blue instead.

“Thank you for your compliment.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“A little cliche with the eyeglasses for a disguise though.” She smirked at him but Loki was lost as to how the eyeglasses made his disguise a cliche.

“I believe my dear Lady Brielle, you are just jealous of how I look.”

A few minutes later, they emerged from the subway to an expansive university grounds. Loki took on the scenery while keeping Brielle in sight. She knew the place like it was the back of her hand and he followed her around. They entered one of the buildings that Brielle called a hall. Taking several flights of stairs, they stopped by the third door on the third floor’s corridor. She opened the door and they were greeted by a cheerful middle-aged woman sitting by the reception desk.

“Doctor McKenzie! Welcome back. I hope you had good trip.” She greeted.

“It wasn’t vacation Betsy. It was work. Thank you though.” She responded as she removed her scarf and coat. The woman called Betsy carefully studied Loki then. He nodded at her as his way of greeting and acknowledging her.

“Quite a handsome fellow you have here. Are you sure you didn’t go for a vacation?” Betsy quips as she raises a brow to her.

“Oh he is an Asgardian envoy who flew back with me. Part of the culture and history exchange program we have agreed with Neo-Asgard.” Brielle explained without looking at Betsy. She quickly rummaged her desk for various documents and stacks of papers.

“Is he now? I hope Doctor McKenzie is not giving you a hard time?”

“Doctor McKenzie is an excellent guide.” Loki answers. “I have learned much about Midgard, I mean Earth’s history and culture from her.”

“As long as she isn’t grading your paper son. You don’t know how many students have come to me begging to have an appointment with her.” Betsy recalls.

“In my defense, their papers were poorly conceptualized and poorly written.” Brielle said from behind the desk. “Found it! I knew I left it here.” She triumphantly raised two worn out books and was grinning like a child.

“And here I thought you were here to get the papers your students have submitted for their final paper.” Betsy shook her head in disapproval.

“Oh I am getting those too. Time to raise some merry hell on them.”

After shoving her worn out books and a stack of papers in her sling bag, Loki and Brielle left Betsy and began their trek back to the subway. Brielle asked if he wanted to look around for a bit which Loki agreed to. She pointed various halls that house the university’s colleges and schools. She showed him one of the university’s libraries (which he found impressive) and brought him to a park that students would usually use a hang-out place. Brielle then took him to a small cafe within the campus. Since she has been a regular customer, the cafe attendant was quick to give them a quiet yet cozy spot by the windows.

“Thank you.” Loki said as they were waiting for their orders to be served.

“You are welcome. I hope you are enjoying your field trip.”

“For once its nice to be out and about.” He reveals.

“You look like you needed fresh air anyways.” She counters. “You were so deep in thought earlier I wasn’t so sure whether you were musing about something or just plain depressed.”

Loki smiles sardonically. “No time to be depressed. No time to mourn.”

“Says the god of mischief and lies. For once you do not sound convincing.” Brielle informs him. Loki was not surprised because he didn’t believe himself either.

“Tell me Doctor McKenzie, what makes history fascinating to you? For all we know, history is just a big lie.” He challenges.

“As an old saying goes, history is written down by the victors;” she begins “however, it doesn’t mean that those on the other side of history have no story to tell. Every experience, every account is a truth that is truer to the person who experienced it.” She looks outside the window, her eyes were thoughtful and warm. “You learn history not to become a bitter person. You learn history because you want to understand how things were before, how they came to be and how they can be better. Learning history changes you because you value more what you have right now and work hard to be better than the ones who have come before you.”

“It could be lies. Evidences can be falsified and accounts can be twisted to serve a specific intent and purpose.” Loki asserts.

“Could be. Could not. It is always a search for understanding and truth. Every story fabricated or not is tied to another story. There is always a bigger picture.” Brielle answers. The waiter finally came and served their meal. There was a brief interlude in their discussion and Loki welcomed it.

Every story fabricated or not is tied to another picture. There is always a bigger picture.

‘So what is my history then? What is the bigger picture?’ He asks himself.

----OoO----

‘So why did he lie?” Loki asks. He was in Odin’s bedside as the king had fallen to another Odinsleep.

“He kept the truth from you so you would never feel different.” Frigga answered. “You are our son Loki and we are your family.”

Sleep eluded Loki that evening. What was the bigger story of his life then? He kept asking himself and yet he seems nowhere near the answers he seeks. The more he looks back, the more he realizes that there was nothing about himself that was true.

“Am I not real and true my son?”

Loki snaps out of his reverie. It was surely his tired senses playing on him but he thought he heard Frigga. Frigga, his adoptive mother who treated him like he was a child that came out of her own flesh and blood. Frigga who stood by him but never condoned his wrong doings. Frigga who probably was the only one whom he can truly acknowledge as someone who cared for him.

Always so perceptive of everyone but yourself.

What is the point of looking inside when people around you are busy pointing out who you are in the first place? Loki was a prince, a god, an heir, a silvertongue, a son, a brother, a deceiver, a usurper, a traitor, a villain. He was all of that and none of that at the same time. He was no one, and his only birth right was death.

His birth right would be fulfilled very soon.

Can a person be someone and no one at the same time?

His self-reflection was interrupted by a knock on his door. Getting up from his bed, Loki openned his door and was surprised to see Brielle with her hair disheveled standing in front of him.

“Sorry to disturb you but I really have to ask you something. I’ve been meaning to ask this to you before but I got shipped away to Norway.” She says while catching her breath.

“Did you run from your room to here? Whatever it is you will ask, it must be of grave importance.” Loki concludes.

“Not really but I have to ask you this before it slips my mind again. Is it true that you are the father of Hela and Jormundgrd? And did you really give birth to an eight-legged horse named Sleipnir?” She asked.

“What?” was all Loki could say because of the absurdity of the question. If only he could resurrect Volstagg and Frandal and kill them again with his own hands.

“I said...”

“I know what you said” Loki interrupts. “But I fail to see how important those were that you had to run here looking disheveled.” He points out. “The answer is no. It was a rumor that Volstagg and Frandal started spreading after Sigyn turned down my proposal.”

“Since you had your heart broken, you turned yourself to a horse and had sex with another horse? What a strange rebound practice.” Brielle joked and she was doing her best not to laugh out loud.

“And Hela is apparently Odin’s oldest born. The rightful heir to Asgard’s throne. Since she became megalomaniac, Odin had to cast her out somewhere.” He leaned on his door frame and began massaging the bridge of his nose. “Since Hela draws her power from Asgard, Thor and I decided to destroy Asgard. I went to Odin’s vault, took Surtur’s crown and placed it in the eternal flame therefor summoning Surtur in Asgard that led to its destruction and fulfilling the prophecy about Ragnarok. It’s the reason why we ended up here in Midgard.” He explained.

“I know about the last part but the one about Hela...well...” Brielle cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Just in case you are wondering, I was never married and am still unmarried. I know your Midgardian myth says I was married to Sigyn and we had sons named Vali and Narvi. Fact, we were never married. She turned me down. Your myth also states that I was chained to a rock while snake drips his poisonous venom on my face and Sigyn collects the venom in a bowl. That never happened as well. Thor and I were both punished by Odin because we played a prank on an Alfaheim princess who was supposed to be Thor’s fiance.” Loki explained.

“So King Thor is a mischievous little child too. Something I can use to tease him when I see him again.” Brielle excitedly announced and Loki just sighed.

“I told you, history is a lie. Look at how they twisted our stories.” He proclaimed.

“First and foremost, Asgard shut us out after the Jotuns attacked us during the ancient times. Second, myths and legends came into existence to explain things that does not make sense to us. They were created as a source of learning and to teach morality.” Brielle then let out a laugh. “Too bad but it seems like you are the Norse Mythology’s Hades, painted as perpetually evil but for all intents and reasons, a perfectly misunderstood being.” Loki refused to comment further on what Brielle said. Brielle smiled as she walked away from Loki’s door. She bid him goodnight and proceeded to return to her room.

Loki closed the door and leaned on it for a couple of seconds. He was catching his breath. His mind was raising and his carefully structured thinking was destroyed in mere seconds.

...painted as perpetually evil but for all intents and reasons, a perfectly misunderstood being.

He closed his eyes willing every fiber of his being from clinging into something he had no right to ever have.

----OoO----

#canon divergence #loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #Loki Laufeyson

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