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dysthanasia-series · 3 months

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Thin Edge of a Wedge Pt. 1

Summary: Isaac approaches Renato with a surprising request. (Possible future scene taking place shortly after Phagophobia, based loosely on this prompt.)

Words: 2,075

Content Advisory: Sexual themes and situations, consensual vampire hypnosis, angry sexual tension, enemies-to-forced-allies-to-lovers, swearing, kissing, biting, consensual blood-drinking, violent vampire feeding thoughts, enthusiastic consent, fade-to-black ending

Renato turned his head and leaned in a fraction as if his hearing had failed him. “I’m sorry. I thought you said—”

“Hypnotize me. Dorian says it’s possible to learn how to break out of bloodborn trances with practice. So, help me train.” Despite the direct words and his matter-of-fact tone, Soto kept his gaze—usually so bold, so sharp—trained on a far corner of the motel room. An arm crossed over his middle, gripping the opposite as he sat on one of the two shabby beds.

While his body already knew which way to cast its vote, Renato’s finer faculties hesitated. “What prompted this?”

“Hm, gosh, let me think. Oh, right. We’re surrounded by Unseen Hand agents who’d love to stab us in the back.”

“Are you implying you could get lost in another bloodborn’s eyes? Agent Soto, you wound me.”

“Can you give being an asshole a rest for, like, half a second? I’m serious.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request, truth be told. Quite pragmatic really. Possibly even laudable, given all Soto had recently suffered—no small amount of which sat at the top of Renato’s ever-growing list of mistakes.

That’s precisely what made it so suspicious.

Renato took a seat on the bed across from Soto’s, the rickety frame squeaking as he crossed his legs and leaned back on both hands. “You didn’t have a problem snapping out of my hypnosis the first time. And you seem to have at least some level of immunity to Kinslayer’s version now.”

“That’s not the same as being able to resist questioning in a casual situation I’m not expecting, or with weird soul magic involved. Like you keep pointing out, if Oleander or Motley or any of the Unseen Hand gets wind of what we’re actually up to we’re dead.”

Again, a bit of strategic paranoia worthy of an aquila. Something was definitely off.

“Fine, suppose I agree,” Renato said. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do?”

“I dunno. Ask me stuff I wouldn’t want to answer and I’ll try to resist.”

The sensible thing to do on his end was to walk away, of course. Ignore Soto and whatever strange impulse was driving him for the rest of the evening. Heaven knew there were a hundred and one tasks actually related to their survival that needed his attention.

Only none of those sent a thrill up his spine.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Renato leaned forward and put his hands on his thighs, smiling. He had enjoyed the odd sleepover party—sharing secrets, truth or dare, all that—as a child when they’d been possible. A shame Ollie wasn’t staying in the same motel. He wouldn’t have minded asking for a couple of her facial masks.

With just a trace of trepidation, Soto mirrored his posture. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Released it. Met Renato’s amused gaze with grave determination. “Ready.”

“What’s your name?”

A divot of annoyance appeared on Soto’s brow. “You know it already.”

“Remind me.”

“Isaac Soto Marquez,” he huffed.

“Your birthday?”

“July seventeenth. Which you also know.”

Well, he’d glanced at it in the Coven’s personal file on Soto, although that had been weeks ago. Considering Renato didn’t remember the exact date of his own birth (which might have already passed since he did know it occurred during storm season), he’d have to make a note to write Soto’s down. Get his favorite grumpy researcher a little treat. Speaking of which…

“What sort of cake do you like?”

There. Surprise smoothed out Soto’s expression. Without disapproval or anxiety etched around his mouth or eyes, it was easy to remember he was barely coming up on age thirty. “Cake? Er, tres leches. With fruit on top, not cinnamon.”

“What kind of fruit is your favorite?”

Shoulders relaxed. Pupils dilated slightly. “Well, uh, I like summer ones the most. You know, mangoes, cherries, peaches.” A pause. “That last one’s my favorite, though. I love peaches. Even from a can.”

“Really? I used to love oranges, though of course I can only enjoy them for their smell now. Some of my best memories are of stopping at ports with orchards so I could pick some.” Renato smiled, earning a shy one in return. “Have you ever eaten fruit straight from the tree or vine, Agent Soto?”

“I…yeah. Yeah, a lot of the werecreature communities I’ve visited have gardens. And I did the whole picking strawberries thing during the spring once with Jeremy.” A soft, faraway sheen shone over dark brown eyes.

Renato ran his tongue along the back of one fang. He had Soto now. While their little game hadn’t been Renato’s idea initially, he wasn’t sorry he’d played, whatever the true stakes. “Who’s Jeremy?”

Creaking as weight shifted the other bed. “My ex.”

Careful. The trick was not to let the prey become too distressed. To give him a little guiding nudge here and there along the path, but to always keep him going with the flow of conversation, not against. Not until the trap had sprung and it was too late. “I see. How many relationships have you had, Agent Soto?”

“Just two. Long term ones.”

“Oh, that’s hardly anything to be embarrassed over.” He had one more than Renato under his belt, after all. And, well, he doubted Soto could have done any worse than Ollie and him had. “Even if you’d had hundreds that didn’t last past sunrise it still wouldn’t be.”

“I know. I guess…sometimes I wish I’d been more aggressive or outgoing or whatever. Elfy always gets pissed when we go out and I turn someone down.”

“Elfy? Your friend from the spirits department?”

“Yeah. She’s always telling me to loosen up and stop thinking with the head on my shoulders so much.” A hand flew up to cover a giggle.

As far as life’s little delights went, Renato ranked witnessing the angriest, most stubborn human he’d ever met giggle just below watching his aquarium. “But that’s not really your style?”

“Nope.” A twitch of the fingers, flicker in the eyes. “Well, okay, once in a while—when I’m really drunk—it is.”

This entire situation came into sudden, cold focus. Decades of training kept Renato’s expression, his mask, from slipping, though. “Would you say you’re bashful when it comes to flirting?” He had certainly read Soto that way during their fateful first meeting at that diner. Though he’d swiftly shed whatever reservations he’d had once they crawled into the backseat of the car.

“Mm. Not really. Not after I get what’s going on.”

“No? High standards maybe?”

“Don’t think so. I don’t have a…a type or whatever.”

“Perhaps you have a hard time surrendering control then?”

Another fidgeting ripple disturbed Soto’s reverie. “I…something like that.”

“Is that why you asked me to hypnotize you, Agent Soto? To surrender control?”

With a jerk, his flustered prey wrenched his gaze away, half-collapsing onto the mattress. Soto panted, his skin gleaming from a light coating of sweat, like he’d just finished running a lap. The tart, candy-apple scent of fear wafted over to Renato, prompting a flood of saliva. Swallowing, he let his lips twist into a smirk.

“That’s a failing grade, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What…?”

“Your tactics could use some work,” Renato continued, uncrossing his legs and rising in one smooth, dignified motion. “Also, I don’t appreciate being subjected to hidden tests. I may not have made the best choices in life, but I’m not so despicable as to ravish someone under the influence either.”

Blinking owlishly but stare quite clear, Soto whipped around to gawp at him. “What do you—”

“Good night, Agent Soto.” He could understand, at last, why Ollie and his reluctant human roommate relished their perches atop a high horse. The rush of victory was amazing as he spun on his heel and strode toward the room’s door.

The sound of grating bedsprings warned him before a hand latched onto the back of his shirt. With a deft turn and shrug, Renato broke the laughable hold on him.

“What the hell—” Soto began.

“I understand the need to hold a grudge.”

“—do you mean—”

“What I don’t get is digging for more reasons to fuel it.”

“—by ravish?”

They stared each other down. Any possibility of hypnosis taking hold tore apart in the clashing currents of hot and cold fury radiating between them.

“I wasn’t testing you,” Soto said, breaking first.

“Oh, really? Please do explain. I’m all ears, as they say.”

“I told you, I want to learn—”

“You’re terrible at lying, Agent Soto. Even to yourself.”

He bristled, the all too familiar defiance setting his jaw and sparking in his eyes. “I’m not—”

Renato whirled and reached for the doorknob.

Weak human fingers scrabbled at him once more. “I don’t know how else to talk to you, all right? And I didn’t think you’d pry into my love life, for fuck’s sake!”

The truth at last. Instead of melting, the rage inside of him expanded, sinking fresh, keen icicles deeper into his chest.

Of course Soto couldn’t simply talk to him. Renato was a bloodborn. Worse, he was an aquila. He wasn’t capable of human mistakes. Or emotions like remorse. At best, he could pretend he was. Wear a charming disguise. Beguile. Lure. Distract. But never offer anything permanent. Never anything real.

“Say something already!” The grip on his shirt tugged. “Don’t give me this silent treatment bullshit.”

Whatever mask had settled over his features made Soto let go and take a step back when he turned.

“Do you want me to make you lose control, Isaac?”

Soto stiffened. It didn’t hide the tremor in his limbs. “You conceited prick.”

“Isaac.” He’d forgotten how good the name felt in his mouth. “It’s a yes or no question.”

Narrowed brown eyes spat death curses at him before darting away again. Soto’s tightened lips parted. No sound came forth. They sealed shut again.

Renato sighed. “You’re a bad liar, but I never took you for a coward when it came to being honest.”

He could have dodged, easily. Instead, he allowed Soto to grab his shoulders and bring their mouths crashing together. Let him decide, too, when to break away and stagger back, chest heaving, stare wide at his own daring.

“That’s not an answer, Isaac.”

“You—!”

Renato slipped one hand around the back of Soto’s head, weaving his fingers into careless black curls but not pulling. Not yet. The other cupped Soto’s jaw, pleasantly rough and raspy from a couple day’s worth of stubble. With his thumb Renato wiped the frown from his lips.

“Yes or no.”

Soto closed his eyes, but it was already too late to hide anything going on behind them. A half-choked swallow made his throat flex in the most enticing way. “I…yes. Yes, okay? I want it.”

It. He wanted it, nothing more. Of course. Still, Renato could do better than a grudging confession.

His hand went from cradling Soto’s face to tearing open his shirt—the shirt always fucking buttoned up to the collar. He should have been a priest, truly. Soto gasped from the sudden violence or the air hitting his exposed shoulder and chest or both. Not giving him a chance to recover, Renato leaned in and started sucking on every bit of bared skin he could get at. Not biting, no, never that again, no matter how much he wanted to chew and rip until Soto’s pulse burst in his mouth like a ripe slice of orange. He only let his throbbing fangs graze over warm flesh, press against it to leave imprints of his teeth behind. Maybe prick it here and there so his tongue could lave over the precious ruby beads of blood afterwards. Savor each tiny shock that shot through him and made the world’s colors scintillate for an instant. Soto threw his arms around Renato to stay standing. Each sharp kiss drew a new, delightful prey noise from him.

He was even more intoxicating than memory served.

Pulling back, Renato inspected his work. Half a dozen little reddish-brown bruises trailed from Soto’s neck and skimmed along just above the curve of his collarbone. A satisfactory start.

“Yes?” Renato prompted again.

Eyes still shut, Soto shivered. “Yes.”

Much, much better. Smiling, Renato guided his willing victim back a pace and shoved him onto the nearest bed.

#dysthanasia #urban fantasy #vampires #writeblr

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auriel187 · 9 months

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The More Things Change. (S1 E7)

Word Count: 2440

Series Masterlist

A/N: If anyone doesn't like the fact that the oc is black, go away.

I was sitting on the porch rolling my eyes as Cory and Shawn were in the backyard, collecting snails. I had tried telling them that it was just a play by Mr. Feeny but as usual, they didn't listen to me. Mr. Feeny was standing behind me looking over at the two boys.

Alan came out into the backyard looking for his son. "Hey, guys. Hmm, collecting snails?" I looked over at the boys, before I continued drawing the flowers.

Cory looked up at his father proudly. "Yeah, Mr. Feeny said we could take 'em off his flowers and use 'em for bait for when we all go fishing Sunday."

Alan looked at our teacher. "Fish don't eat snails."

Mr. Feeny chuckled. "Gee, I guess I was mistaken." I almost fell off the porch, rolling in a fit of laughter. I'm not sure why I found it so funny but to me it was hilarious. Shawn came over and lifted up my sketchbook. Looking down at the flowers he was just sitting in front of and looking back at me, he smiled. I couldn't wait to go fishing with him and Cory. Just a day to be stupid with those two sounded amazing.

"Well, whenever you guys get ready, the bass master here is all set to pass on to the younger generation some of the finer points of spin casting." Alan said to the three of us.

"Manipulating young and impressionable minds. I hope you're proud of yourself, Mr. Feeny." Cory looked up at our teacher with his hands on his hips.

"Indeed I am, Mr. Matthews." Mr. Feeny smiled and turned away from us.

"Come on, guys. Now, the main thing to remember is that basically, it's a simple flick of the wrist." Alan said as we hopped the fence. Well technically, they boys hopped the fence, I was lifted over it. I swear I must've weighed the same as a dust bunny. "You open the bail, hold the line with your finger, and then it's two o' clock, ten o' clock; two o' clock, ten o' clock; two o' clock, ten o' clock..." the hook swung over his head behind.

"Kind of a "quarter after three" thing you got going on there, Dad, huh?"

Mr. Feeny approached the fence. "May a, ah, fellow angler try his luck?"

Alan looked over at the older man, "Be my guest, George." He said, handing the fishing rod to him.

I watched as Mr. Feeny mutters softly before he casts perfectly into a bucket. "It's like getting back on a bicycle. One never forgets." He smiled, content with himself.

Cory looked up at him. "Mr. Feeny, you fish?"

Mr. Feeny nodded. "Oh, sure, I'm an old bass hog from way back. I'll never forget that September morn. 1956. I was after smallmouth bass on the Louisiana delta." I listened so intently. This sounded like such a brilliant story.

Alan didn't seem to think so though. "Sounds fascinating, George." He says sarcastically.

Mr. Feeny didn't seem to catch the disinterest as he went on, much to my pleasure. "Spanish moss hanging down, and the cypress knees jutting up through the brackish water of the bayou..."

Alan tried again. "Sounds fascinating, George." Mr. Feeny stopped and I pouted. I'll have to ask him about it later.

"Dad, how come Eric's not coming with us this year?" Cory asked his father suddenly. I looked over at the curly haired boy.

"Well, your brother's discovered girls. He can't sit still. When you're Eric's age and you can't sit still, I'll take Morgan. It's the endless cycle of fishing." Alan explained.

"Have you tried explaining to Eric that he could take girls fishing with him, Mr. Matthews?" I asked. He smiled at me, I wasn't sure why.

"Not for the activities he wants no. It's the unfortunate part of having children. The boys grow up and can't sit still. The girls...well I don't know yet because Morgan loves ponies, point is after he," he pointed to Cory "loses his mind and obsesses over girls, I'll have Morgan."

"And what about after Morgan?" Cory asked.

Alan shrugged. "Well, then, I'll just be some guy in a fishing hat with a lot of boring stories." He looked over at Mr. Feeny and put his hand over his heart.

"Did you just scare yourself, Dad?" Cory asked.

"Oh, yes, I think I did." He answered sitting down.

I put my head down as I mumbled "I liked the story." To which Shawn carried me over to the bench and handed me my sketchbook. I noticed that he'd continued drawing the flowers. More specifically, he added details to the petals and leaves. He was looking over my shoulder as I continued drawing the grass and tiny bugs.

"Dad, if you're not taking Eric because he's obsessed with girls, why are we taking Shawn?" Cory asked his dad which caused Shawn and I to look over at the two Matthews men. I shrugged and went back to drawing.

+=+=+=+=+

That Sunday, I was woken up by a very smiley Jefferson clutching my bag. "Get your butt out of bed!" He shook me slightly.

"You seem too eager to get me out of the house." I said into my pillow.

"Girl, get up before I call your boyfriend and tell him you're not going!" He threatened.

"Blackmail!" I screamed before finally getting up. "And stop calling Shawn my boyfriend!"

"Well your non boyfriend is going to be here for breakfast soon so...Up!" I crawled out of bed and went to brush my teeth. Jefferson had taken up styling my hair when his wife and daughter weren't here. I think he's doing a great job. When he was done he stepped back and looked at me. "There she is! Now...say it loud." He held up his hand in a closed fist.

I repeated the gesture. "Say it proud."

When he crossed his arms over his chest he said "Say it together."

I again copied the gesture. "Wakanda Forever." We say in unison. Then I hustled to get dressed.

I liked that Jefferson was as much of a nerd as I was.

Once I was dressed, I headed downstairs with a smile. The table was being set and just before I could take my seat the bell rang. "I'LL GET IT!" I opened the door and pulled Shawn in. Jefferson rolled his eyes before he placed the plates on the table.

"So, what kind of stuff do you put on your pancakes, Blue Eyes?"

"Maple syrup, please" He replied as he took off his shoes. We ate together. Jokingly shoving his fork towards me and making faces to get me to laugh, Jefferson was fun with us too. It was all fun and games until Jefferson got a work call.

I know that Jefferson travelled for work. That broke me every time. What made matters worse was that Rachelle and Brianna had taken Jazmyne and Tamara on a 'field trip' but I was too young to go and Brianna was adamant that Adam wasn't allowed to watch me 'unsupervised'.

Jefferson made the face and I knew. "I'll ask if I could stay with the Matthews family." I look down at my breakfast. Noticing the fall of my smile, Shawn slid his last pancake onto my plate.

"Thanks, Shawnie." I smiled.

"No problem, Sunshine!" He smiled back and continued eating.

+=+=+=+=+

Shawn was carrying my bag to the Matthews house. I had told him not to but he insisted. We stood at the door waiting for someone to answer, Shawn kept bumping his elbowing me in the back, not for any real reason but just to be playful.

"Hello guys!" Mrs. Matthews said, opening the door to let us in.

"Hi, Mrs. Matthews. Did Jefferson call you?" I asked, removing my shoes. She nodded and watched as Shawn took a seat on the sofa.

"You're free to stay the night." I smiled.

+=+=+=+=+

I was exhausted after my afternoon of fishing. It was fun but sitting in the sun all day can really wipe you out.

Walking into the backyard, I came to a halt when I saw Eric kissing a girl on Mr. Feeny's side of the fence.

Alan stood awkwardly behind his eldest son. "Nice night, huh?"

Eric turned slowly to his father with a grim look on his face. "Yeah."

Alan turned to Shawn and I. "Well, we're just, uh, passin' through."

"Good. Pass." Eric said, trying to get us out of the backyard.

Shawn being the goofball he is, went up and teased Eric. "Eric, the Lipmaster!" He said, elbowing the teenager. I rolled my eyes and followed him towards the house.

"Yeah, sure. Look, anybody else, or are we all done here?" Eric screamed into the air.

Cory then poked his head out of his treehouse. "Everyone have a great day without me?"

I'm pretty sure we were all surprised to see him. "How long have you been up there?" Eric asked, accusingly pointing at his brother.

"Long enough to watch you swap spit with a Feeny." Cory whined as he climbed out of his treehouse.

"Well, I'd say the mood is sufficiently killed, wouldn't you?" Eric turned to the girl.

"Dead and buried." She replied. She looked over at us and I waved at her. I'm not really sure why.

"I think my little sister is busy tomorrow, so, looks like it's just you and me." Eric shrugged, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably.

"I'll bring the pen. Good night... everyone!" She waved to the rest of us before she walked into Mr. Feeny's house.

"She's related to Feeny?" Alan asked, in shock I presume.

Eric nodded proudly, "Niece" to which his father nodded "Nice" in reply. Why were they so focused on what she looked like as a Feeny? I don't look like my mom or my dad and they were both very good looking people in my opinion.

"Nice? She's beautiful. I mean, that's the most incredible girl I ever kissed." Eric bellowed. I chuckled.

"Which puts her at the top of a list of, what? Two?" I looked up at the oldest son as I said it. He glared at me which told me I got him. But he smiled as he lifted me up and started walking towards the house.

"Look, making out is not a spectator sport." He said to the rest of the boys in the backyard. They all applauded him. Eric turned and continued to the house. He still hadn't put me down.

"Guys, I'm getting kidnapped!" I screamed as Eric took me into the living room. My sleeping bag was already on the floor when he put me down.

"Alright, Birdie. What's the best part about sleepovers at your best friend's house?" Eric asked as he put me down. His hands were on his hips as Morgan came in to play with her tea set.

I shrugged. "Sleeping on the couch?" I answered apprehensively.

"You need to get out more. No, the best part is making forts to sleep in." The teenager answered. He's nuts.

"You want to make a pillow fort for Cory, Shawn and my sleepover?" I looked up at him.

"Yes. Yes I would." Eric nodded quickly, before Morgan came over.

"Can I help?" I smiled at her.

"Sure thing, Weasel." Eric picked her up and ran upstairs for blankets and pillows.

+=+=+=+=+

That night, after much negotiating with his parents, Cory was lying beside my little fort. Shawn was on the opposite side of it. I had braided my hair and wrapped the scarf around it, cocooned myself in my sleeping bag and was about to fall asleep when I heard the boys moving.

"Cory. Is she asleep?" Shawn asked. I pretended to be.

"Why don't you check?" The curly haired boy grunted as the TV became white noise.

"Fine." Shawn shifted around before peeking his head between the pillows. I kept a straight face as he looked down on me. I must've been a convincing actress because he turned around and put something next to my head.

He laid back down and I opened my eyes to see an adorable little stuffed bear with a purple bow sitting on top of a piece of paper. I smiled at it before I put my head down.

"You guys are so gross." Cory whined.

"Shut up. No we're not!" Shawn mumbled.

"You're acting like a married couple. Gross." Cory explained.

"She's my best friend, Cory." Shawn's voice came out muffled by his pillow.

"No, no, no! I'm your best friend. Tomorrow you're going to go to my mom and ask her to make Raven's favourite breakfast and call her Sunshine." Cory sounded triumphant.

"She is Sunshine. She's still my best friend though." And it all faded as I finally fell asleep.

+=+=+=+=+

After breakfast, we were sitting on Cory's bed as he and Shawn stared at Cory's new baseball card.

"Cal Ripken, Junior – rookie year. I never thought I'd actually get to hold one of these things." Shawn stared at the card in awe.

"My grandma picked it up at this swap meet for seven bucks." Cory smiled happily. Shawn looked at him like he was crazy.

"Seven bucks in dog years. This baby's worth a hundred and fifty, easy."

Cory looked at him in shock. "It is?"

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that Shawn just did mental math?...Well not really but still." I was looking between both boys. But they ignored me.

"Yeah. Boy, your grandma must really love you." Shawn said. I flopped down on the bed holding my new bear. I named it Morrigan.

"Yeah. Or else she shot a man in Reno just to watch him die." I looked over at him, checking to see if either of them would catch that reference.

"You're kidding, right?" Poor Shawn. He looked so scared.

"I'm not sure." Cory looked down at the card with a little bit of fear too.

"It's Johnny Cash." They both looked at me weirdly.

"But I Shot A Man In Reno Just To Watch Him Die. When I Hear That Whistle Blowin' I Hang My Head And Cry. I Bet There's Rich Folks Eatin' In A Fancy Dining Car. They're Prob'ly Drinkin' Coffee And Smokin' Big Cigars, But I Know I Had It Comin', I Know I Can't Be Free, But Those People Keep A-Movin', And That's What Tortures Me." I sang.

"Cool." Cory said when I finished. He has warped interests.

#black reader #boy meets world #shawn hunter x oc #black oc #please dont steal

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subizer0 · 2 years

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star-crossed lovers.1 the boy who shattered time

"the always enchanting tale, of star crossed lovers."

being an archivist in piltover and getting assigned to the firelight case

a.n: jinx is believed to be around 19 in the second act of arcane. i assume ekko was only a little older than her, so i thought of ekko as 20 writing this, reader is basically the same age.. also, the reader was found before the bridge incident, so they had no connection with any of the zaunite characters before.

!!this is super random, messy and unedited. read at your own risk im so sorry sdfjdsfjslfjk

ekko x female reader (she/her pronouns used)

warnings: vi swearing :D, kidnapping??? reader has a sickness that affects her body entirely (actual lore), adoption, political marriage mentioned

supporting characters: caitlyn, tobias, cassandra, vi, scar, renata glasc

growing up a foundling saved from the polluted air and deadly sewers of zaun, you were brought up by the infamous kiramman family without being mentioned of your heritage, not even once!

spending your days in the kiramman estate, you were considered to be born into the lavish lifestyle of this matriarchal clan. since you were found by a group of enforcers during a riot in zaun as a baby, people did find it bizarre for the kirammans to suddenly pop out with a child, even though none would dare to gossip about it. this resulted in your parents spreading their wings' over you, wanting to protect you from any wandering gaze. you were quite the lucky scroundrel, being a teen around compassionate women like cassandra and caitlyn, you knew it wouldn't be long before you started reaching out for the greater good of your beloved piltover.

you were a daddy's girl to put it plainly, you were used to being pampered by tobias who enjoyed much finer and simpler things in life, prior to your mother cassandra who was quite strict about you taking an active role in the clan's representation of the council. even though you could not have a direct role as council member (not being blood-related and all).

you always though mother knew that caitlyn would grow up to be rebellious if it meant she was doing the right thing, whereas you, a poor zaunite who already got enough chemicals clogged up in her lungs during her short stay as a resident. thats why you were always tired and sickly from studying, having tobias constantly worry over you to an unnecessary extend. caitlyn was ambitious, she wanted to change the world for the greater good even if it meant abandoning her roles as the next heir as a council member. and you were the more 'passive kiramman' who stayed home all day reading history books and playing music with your favorite parent. still, caitlyn would have none of these people pushing you around, you were simply different! special in your own way and she made sure to remind you that many times. cait is a woman of very reassuring hugs, and you are one of her favorite people.

having roots from ionia, your dad often recognized your longing to your true parents, to the toxic smells and industrial sounds of the undercity. he often saw you frustrated and ashamed of admitting how precious you thought the fauna of the zaun was. not being able to tell you the truth hurt him dearly, but he was still a parent, and he thought more of your well-being compared to your previous life as an infant.

you loved your small family though, you really did! and when your big sister decided to start working as an enforcer, you knew that you didn't want to be apart from your role model for much long, you still did it without giving your mother more of a heart attack :D.

thats when you started working as an archivist for the piltover corps, a pretty youngling wicked enough to see more to the details to crime scenes than any other officer in the department. you spend your whole life putting yourself in your sisters hat, blowing your mind over how exactly precise she was when it came to analyzing the crime scene that you were the first archivist our dear soon-to-be sheriff would seek out. it was bound to be really, you spent many of your time hanging around caitlyn's room that she would sometimes jokingly say you knew her more then she did herself.

we could say that you were happy, having a semi-office job that did not oppose much of a threat to your weak body, you still longed for the serious and one of a kind aura of crime scenes. since you were highly respected in your job, you would get assigned to cases that involved zaun more often than not. having grown up in a powerful family in piltover, forget about having any experience with the undercity, you never even came close to seeing the bridge before. needless to say, you were excited to learn more about zaun's firelights. the robin hoods that came to surface during those dreadful times.

"you see anything suspicious, you tell me. i don't want you fainting around the precious crime scene." caitlyn was half-serious as she said that. you could see how stressed she was after the incident with the former sheriff, grayson if you recalled correctly. you knew your sister thought of her dearly, she gushed over how brave and intelligent she was that grayson dying right underneath her feet was too much for her. you watched them do shooting training from the big window of your parents' workroom. grayson seemed like a gentle giant to you as a child, she retrained from showing affection but she never missed any opportunity to give advice to the 'kiramman girls'. piltover police department hid everything from commoners that it meant even you, a powerful family, couldn't know what was going on down there. something so terrible that it could easily kill a woman you always knew as ambitious and powerful.

you knew how worried caitlyn was, she was walking on egg shelves, constantly getting told off by other enforcers for messing up with the crime scenes, but nobody knew your sister as well as you did and you were SURE that if there was one officer who could go to the bottom of this, it was caitlyn.

and that was basically why you were standing here :) with rain softly hitting your small umbrella, so small that half of your boots were soaking already, trying to sneak after your dear sister as much as you possible could. even though you were sure she already heard you cough really bad a few times , the cold was a bit too much for you already, you wanted to believe that cait was lost in the moment for now. maybe you hoped she didn't notice you, or maybe because caitlyn was so tense and panicked about being discovered again, but alas, your prayers were answered when you arrived at what seemed to be a depot for emergency items being transmitted to zaun. 'that's it!' you heard caitlyn whisper softly, it actually took you by terror! you were waaaay to close for comfort now.

with a moment of panic, you quickly took a few steps back, your heavy boots stomping through the old road. a few seconds later, when you try to memorize what you last saw of your sister, you were going to wonder why the council never bothered to fix up such places. piltover was suppose to be this megacity, no flaws or cracks to been seen from the outside, it was suppose to shine through whole runeterra. but zaun has always been a thorn in piltover's side. people too proud to let their city be renowned by those they saw as arrogant up starters, whom would rather live in toxic waste than let their own culture be lost to those who went crazy over having control over both magic and technology? to be honest, it never seemed like a bad thing to you, you could never admit it to yourself as a kiramman, but you thought of zaunites rather highly. they were interesting folks that you admired, a part of you has always been on their side, maybe it was what you saw in yourself after all. poor, lost, weak, not good enough even?

your train of thoughts had to be cut short as your shoulder hit through a heavy metal box sharply. you took a painful breath, immediately putting your hand on your left shoulder to do "damage control" as your father taught you. caitlyn jumped with surprise all of a sudden too, taking a brief look at her surroundings before rushing inside the depot. you tried to compose yourself, but walking over here was already tough enough for your sickly body. you kept hearing footsteps and unnatural sounds that you couldn't make much of, before feeling a rough hand surrounding your mouth. 'caitlyn?' you tried to mutter even when you could clearly see her silhouette getting smaller by passing second. you took a glimpse of the few words written on the metal box before hearing a soothing voice.

"keep it quite, you don't want them to hear us. trust me." the tone was not soothing at all. it was demanding, persuasive even. was he after this weird purple looking box too? shimmer? not like you had much power in your body to resist him anyway. you saw your sister jumping through the side window of the building from the corner of your eyes before letting your exhausted body in the care of a stranger. you felt his arms tense right before your conciseness slipped away, it must've been shocking for him too. he probably didn't expect you to faint, not like you could care much about it now anyway.

you believed it was the other day when your body finally started to feel okay again, you could see weird sources of light appearing and disappearing constantly even with your eyes closed. you were put on a neatly assembled room: a small bed that was pushed to the corner of two walls, a very used table with a single little vase on it -the vase was empty- a small rug that seemed to be hand-knitted. your head felt heavy as you forced yourself to get out of the bed, the air was so dense that it was starting to burn your eyes. you kept inhaling, even though it was no help at all. there was no window, no air conditioning, no nothing. the gray was quite literally consuming you whole.

"i get that you think yourself as highly, piltie." you saw a young man leaning to the frame of the door. "but you don't even bother resting? you're in the wrong neighborhood, you better start acting right." he ignored you trying to breathe for your dear life and started approaching you. he eyed you from tip to toe for a moment before giving a satisfied hum. "it'll do." he mumbled under his breath before putting a small package on top of your now messy bed. 'a change of clothes' you hoped, the boy seemed to enjoy seeing your eyes light up over a simple thing, though it looked more out of annoyed amusement.

"welcome to zaun, little piltie." he said after leaving a some-what friendly pat on your shoulder. your left shoulder might i add, and even a small touch was already making the wound burn so bad, you fought the urge to flinch, as to not be seen as weak to your kidnapper. the next few days followed as such, sometimes it was different people bringing you questionable food, but you still saw ekko doing the errands most of the time. your guess? they were still deciding what to do with you. they already stripped you off of your "piltie belongings" so they probably already had a few ideas of your importance and profession. it would take a few more days for caitlyn to get where you are, or at least you hoped. a part of you didn't want her to, you still couldn't decide who you were dealing with, and you didn't want cait to get hurt. who were these people anyway? some chem-punks with hate towards the upsiders? zaun police community thing? if they even had one? maybe some ordinary sump suckers targeting you for your position???

"you have a funny look on your face. are you gonna show something new already?" there he was, ekko, now that you knew his name from a little child that has been on your meal duty for a while now. it seemed your relationship improved for the better recently, he kept questioning you still, there was that, but he seemed pleased with how calm and collected you seem. a piltover 'noble' that was willing to talk to a zaunite as an equal? that was a huge advantage for them. ekko has been informed about a device that piltover was working on, something powerful at that. to his surprise, he was dealing with one of the best archivists in "stuck-up city". he wanted you to trust him, so he started tending to your wounds himself. ekko understood that you weren't comfortable showing yourself in a vulnerable manner, but he was the easiest to get along with out of all community members. you felt as though you could rely on him, even though your rational side was screaming "stockholm syndrome!" on the top of her lungs.

"zaun is actually quite beautiful, its unique in its own way"

"you really thought we were half-mutant monsters that drank toxic shimmer water to survive or something?"

"..."

"your silence is scary, but appreciated whizkid."

you felt ekko starting to get closer to you day by day, he was fascinated by your neutral opinions on zaun as a piltover citizen, but mostly he just stayed to enjoy your company. he always felt the burden of the firelights in one way or another, he owed them as much as he needed them. but with you, you could talk about how you marked different information in the piltover library for hours, and he could pretend to listen while taking notes of your hand movements. your peaceful days of companionship were cut short after you were assisted to your room by a strange looking friend of his.

"don't follow me, i'll be with you as soon as i'm finished." you took notice of how a lot of people seemed to be on edge, they kept rushing around with a different material on their hands each time. the errand boy that got used to greeting you before couldn't even spare time to look at you now. you felt uneasy, you've been here for a few weeks already, but even you could tell this was odd. so after sitting in your usual room for a few hours -which was customized to your liking by now since ekko was planning to keep you here for a while - you decided enough was enough. you never put your nose up in the firelights' business until now, but you were just starting to see yourself as a part of the team recently, and it was -to be perfectly honest- hurtful. you cared for those people, you tried picking up ionian just so you could say thank you to the strange looking human-like members. they were finally starting to ask about you as a person, not as a piltie, and now it was all crashing up on you.

you followed the small made up road up to the first level of the huge tree that the hideout was centered around. you could hear ekko speaking in a cold manner, something that you stopped getting used to after a few days of being here, and it sent a chill down your spine. ekko was always understanding with you, he stated many times that he saw himself in you, a kid lost all by herself in between the dirty and the dense pipes of zaun. he tried to speak softly to not seem suspicious to other firelights, ekko always made it very clear that HE was the one responsible for you. after you saw ekko clinging to a pink figure, you couldn't stop the scenarios rushing into your mind that was running non-stop. why is he shaking? wow, he seems really short compared to them now. oh god, was it a lover perhaps? you were getting jealous NOW out of all times?

the pink haired individual noticed you as you made yourself very well known. spilling out a frustrated scowl you let out with the last thought crossing your mind. you were letting your emotions get the best of you, no no, you were acting like a "snipe" as your mother phrased it when she was angry. a foolish zaunite kid. what an irony it was.

"thank god i didn't know how much i could go on with this emotions bullshit." her voice was smooth and full of mischief, you could also see her pointing at ekko with her eyes, mouthing the word 'clingy'. ekko didn't notice it however, he turned around with his pupils wide, trying to dry his eyes using his red scarf thingy to help the process. he looked shaken up a bit, you wanted to do nothing more than hug him.

"that's so uncool. let's just get this over with." "what do you mean uncool? is she your girlfriend or something?"

you could feel the heat rushing to your face, trying to get a glance off of ekko's reaction. you couldn't believe that you would be wondering if a boy from the undercity was fancying you, it felt odd, like it wasn't meant to be. your parents were very open to the idea of you marrying for love, even then they and your distant relatives hoped that you would marry a powerful piltoveran diplomat to bring more power and name to the household. you knew that, of course you did, it was merely your responsibility to thank your parents. but you still wanted so bad for him to answer positively. yet, ekko's stance did not change one bit, it was as if he didn't even hear what the pink haired girl was talking about. all the while you could also see her looking at you two suspiciously, especially to you.

"a penny for your thoughts, ma'am?"

"name's vi, stop calling me that it feels weird."

you could see that vi was slightly amused with the way you were conversing, considering her obviously looking rough around the edges. she would like to consider herself 'intimidating', but you were disciplined by one of the finest teacher's in the whole uppside, cassandra kiramman herself, so you couldn't help yourself being polite in a stoic way.

"she can't help it, whiz here is a welheeled piltie you see." he was still refusing to take a look at you. it felt as if you were at the step 0 all over again with him, his cold but straightforward speaking was back at it, and you were hoping he would stop calling you a piltie already.

"funny you say that, she reminds me of a very dear friend, actually. i hope you didn't shake cupcake badly." you perked up upon hearing this, your mind was clouded with ekko that you were having trouble keeping up with the conversation. they were joking between themselves, talking about some mathilda, which was making you feel uneasy all over again. and, cupcake? that seemed like a weird nickname coming out of vi's mouth. the word itself seemed so out of place there, that it made you remember unpleasant things. ever since you've been cooped up here, you felt as if this whole stay was the most free you've ever felt. you didn't have to listen to enforcers bickering, pushing people around. even though you were clearly a prisoner, you still enjoyed hearing people talk so fondly of zaun. it almost felt like, home...

home was a word that lost its meaning in your eyes a long time ago. dusty bookshelves and open windows of the brilliant piltover stopped felling like home when you started seeing how big the cliff was between piltover and zaun. you started to feel guilty listening to your mother and father voice their concerns about zaunite riots, it was uncomfortable looking through archives and finding the hardships zaunites had to go through because of piltover. now, home was here. but it was still missing something, you loved your family, and you were proud of your nation. you missed seeing tobias panic over how to tend to a small bruise on caitlyn's arms. caitlyn, was she okay? last time you saw her, she was all alone too, she didn't have her usual shadow following right behind her step. you couldn't help but smile with the though, she hated hearing you say that. 'gob it' she would shout every time she heard someone talk about how passive you were even though you were a kiramman.

caitlyn was your dearest, but you even though you have been a hostage for weeks now, never once did you think about her well-being. oh, cupcake!

"caitlyn!" you shouted with realization, your thoughts only catching up with you just now. "were you with caitlyn?" vi was taken aback by surprise before tensing her shoulders. she was obviously wary of your suspicious behavior now.

"how do you know her kid?" the way she was standing was scary now, before she only seemed like a puppy with big guns. caitlyn was your sister, but why was vi looking offended that you knew of her too? the worst possible case came racing, did vi hurt your sister?

"that's enough, vi." you failed to notice ekko moving closer to your side, up until now he was leading your small group to what seemed like a bunch of bunkers. he was near you now, his left arm covering you partially from vi's gaze protectively. you were sure he could hear your heart banging in your chest, was it vi's intense gaze that was scaring you? or ekko clearly protecting you from someone that seemed important to him? either way, the room's temperature was so low by now that the silence, for the first time of you being here, started to physically hurt.

you closed your eyes momentarily, you were already tired with the satiation you were failing to put a meaning on. you still didn't know who vi was, you didn't know what she was doing here, but most importantly of all, you had to know what she had to do with your big sister. so you built up your courage and opened your mouth to question her one more time.

"pfft!" you looked up with surprise, ekko was also taken back with vi suddenly laughing. he was confused, but he refused to leave your side.

"oh god ekko you still stand like a little boy. grow a spine, little man." she was clearly enjoying seeing both of you squirm around, still trying to understand what was going on and looking around with alarmed eyes.

"don't be scared little man, no one's gonna hurt your little girlfriend." with this, vi started to walk again, not waiting for both of you to either answer nor start walking again. you shared a confused look with ekko for a split second, right before ekko grunts and starts walking again, but you swear that you saw his hand twitching with embarrassment.

after an awkward walk -super amusing for vi- you arrive in front of a metal door, you see another group a firelights hanging out around the specific door. they rise up as soon as they see ekko and put their hands on the circular handle of the door. but they stop, eyeing you for a moment. if it was your first few days here, the feeling in their eyes would be that of annoyance, suspicion even. but they seem worried, maybe guilty too, they refuse to meet your eye and just keep fidgeting with the door. ekko seems to take up this bizarre action after a while of standing there.

"you stay. for real this time." he gives you an assuring look before giving a signal to the taller fireflight again. vi eyes you both for the 100th time this evening, mouthing the word 'adorable' while looking directly at you. they get inside the small bunker, you put your back to the wall. unable to hold back your curiosity, you try to hear them through the wall. ekko sits at the door while vi talks with the firelights. you can't admit it, but you envy her a lot, how comfortable she is around this place already, even though you're almost sure she hasn't been here for a long time. you envy how she can talk so comfortably with ekko, how she can hug ekko, how vi seems to tease ekko without any consequence. it hits you there and then, you are falling in love with ekko. its a goose bumpish feeling, you're feeling warm all over your body but your heart breaks even more with every passing second thinking that you two are never meant to be. oil and water, uppsider and downsider. star-crossed lovers, written tragedy by destiny.

you get scared by an object hitting the ground harshly, followed by a small kid rushing out of the room. you hear ekko talking, but the sound comes from so far away now. there's a huge gap between the two of you that you will never be able to fill. you're only about 50 cm away from him but his features are already impossible to see from the tears forming in your eyes. you have been hopeful until now, no, you KNEW caitlyn would come to find you, that's who she was. but at this point, do you even want her to? or is it better for you to go back to piltover and continue living your silly little lavish life as if you've never fallen in love with a boy that had his whole life taken from him because of you, your people? you never asked for this, you didn't ask for ekko to put you down here, you didn't ask for him to treat you so nicely even though you were exactly the type of person he hated the most. arrogant, thinks she's the center of the world, a narrow-minded fool who only took his politeness for something more?

"you alright there?" vi whispers softly. you see her standing near ekko now, it seems she stopped talking to whoever was inside for a second to take a look at you. you could see the concern in her eyes, but ekko looks still preoccupied with what is happening in there. you slowly shake your head as a 'no'. she looks at ekko again for a moment, opens her mouth but doesn't say anything. she looks defeated, and still respects your boundaries.

"you get a pass back topside, that's it. let's go" ekko gets up with a huff, without looking back at you, he starts walking to the same firelights that opened the door for you three. you try to compose yourself, the last thing you want to do is be more of a burden to them. taking deep breaths you start walking, just as you get to the heavy metal door, you see a woman struggling to walk normally, clearly tired from being bound up for so long. as you start getting your thought on a track, you start seeing better, and the first view that hits you is a bunch of purpleness just popping out into the view. you smile knowingly with all the power left in you, that's your cait. she did come for you! and in one piece. but then, why are you not happy? you spend your first few days here praying that caitlyn comes to you as fast as she can safely, but now the only thing you want to do is stay here.

you didn't have a chance to visit the black markets of zaun yet! ekko promised that you would find many of piltover's creations there for even cheaper prices, 'just like how i found myself a piltie, plus for free.' as he said. he would treat you to a "bilge-wateresque" food feast at jericho's. you have to inhale the toxins to have a good time, "that's the zaun way, baby!"

caitlyn didn't have the time to process what was going on before your legs gave up on you, you could see vi was helping caitlyn walk away, clearly worried. it warmed your heart, your stubborn yet outspoken of a sister was finally able to trust someone other than herself. but as you started falling onwards, ekko was the first one to reach out to you with a surprised expression, breaking your heart even more.

#arcane x reader #lol x reader #league of legends x reader #arcane #lol #league of legends #ekko #ekko x reader #arcane ekko x reader

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astrxlfinale · 24 days

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[Gallagher]: I've just tried Kangaroo beer... [Gallagher]: You can really taste the hops... [Gallagher]: xd

Maybe Penacony had a way of letting his sentiments echo. For the dread that comes across witnessing this particular font of wisdom, oh was it harrowing, oh did it prompt him to abruptly slam his face upon the wall that was thankfully next to him.

For within his mind's eye did the image of Gallagher thriving in their smugness was horrendously easy to imagine. The finer lines of age felt like they clung well akin to a cape, leveling that experience and their particular job as a means of seamlessly mingling wherever he went.

...So why this.

Is this type of face here, the very one he sporting some secret method of infusing Penacony was a new form of life? To seam together its seething wounds and the chaotic woes of others? No matter how much the arcade machines found themselves calling his name, no matter how much 'Super Clockie Bros' wound up getting a good few hours of his day, getting them enriched with the animated wonder all over again. (Needless to say, he's been sending a lot of shots of that to his special Firekiss.)

Only for this old man to come and spoil the moment! X FUCKING D he adds in! Time might cease to exist here in some convoluted fashion, but that sure as hell didn't mean the universe had to act like this!

Righteous indignation proceeds to flow through your very form!

Oh was that phone's text function whipped out in a heartbeat!

Text: WHO ENJOYS JUST BEING THIS OLD

Text: Do you hear yourself?! This doesn't have to do with age anymore! You're clearly thriving in the atmosphere of old!

Text: Do you know LOL can be a thing? Stuff such as lit? How about 'What's bonkin'?' We can even use that as a statement!

Text: But all I'm getting here is beer choices I may be mildly interested in. (And you may be destroying it as we speak. This is not how you promote brand!)

Text: And of course, that ancient relic of XD you tote around like a trophy. Gallagher. My guy. We've pounded the pavement together. Back to back, surrounded by all types of bullshit and this is how we're doing our cop routine next?

Text: Why don't we just go film noir style like with Hanu?! Because I swear if there comes a day if we're hitting the griddy over clues..

A prolonged, well deserved sigh proceeds to spill from the Trailblazer's mouth then and there. Maybe he could pretend this was some secretive drinksmith initiation.

...

Nah, that still gets him spiritually annoyed.

@avaere

#avaere #| Shuttle Mail #Everyday he has to ask #What compelled him to befriend this man #Why does this path of turbulence continue to speak to him

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shipskicksandgiggles · 2 years

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dialogue prompt 1 is such a Harley Keener quote

oh my god you're so right. I never even thought about it for him because the person who said this was Irish and I just. you're So Right. here you are my friend

prompt: “Well that’s a pain in the potatoes.” (from this list)

Read Potato Potahto here on ao3

~~~

Not every lab day involved a collaborative project. In fact, most of them didn’t. They were all their own people with different priorities and deadlines that needed to be met.

Really, the only days where they worked on anything together were the times when a project was so big, it just needed more than one set of hands.

Still, working on their own was much more common. It was quiet in the lab, all of them doing their own thing, the noise of tools and such fading to the background along with the music Tony was playing that day.

It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough that Harley’s sigh likely wouldn’t be heard over the noise.

A hinge broke on the inside of his face plate.

He was trying to repair some of the finer tech near the eyes. One of his projectors had been cutting in and out recently, and he kind of needed that data, so it needed to be fixed.

In theory, it was a super easy fix. In theory, he could have just plugged it into his computer, recalibrated everything, and been good to go.

In practice, it was not so simple.

Plugging it into his computer was the easy part. Recalibrating it was a no-brainer.

However, running a diagnostics test to make sure there were no other issues unveiled an entire fleet of problems.

A cracked lens, multiple sensors at odd angles, a hinge that could use a tune up. Tiny problems that on their own wouldn’t take long, but they added up. He decided to fix the hinge last since it was on the outside, and the more delicate work on the inside was more important.

Still, he had to loosen the hinge to get to the other parts he needed to fix. And then obviously, because of course it did, the hinge snapped under his screwdriver.

“Well that’s a pain in the potatoes,” he muttered. He only said it to himself, quietly enough that no one should have been able to hear him.

Except across the room, Peter paused, took a deep breath, set down his own tools, and stared at him.

“What in the fuck did you just say?”

“What? What happened?” Tony’s head swiveled between the two of them.

“No, not you. Harley, say what you just said again.”

Harley gaped at him. “How-”

“Doesn’t matter. Repeat what you just said, I want to hear you say it clearer.”

“That’s a pain in the potatoes,” he said slowly, after a moment’s hesitation.

Tony burst out laughing as Harley and Peter continued to have a staring contest.

After a moment, Harley spoke again. “I will not be judged for the words that come out of my mouth.”

“Yes you will. You will be judged. Primarily by me because what the fuck?”

“Okay, okay, children, simmer down. Peter, I’m sure there are a number of things you say that Harley judges you for but doesn’t say anything. And Harley, I will admit that while Peter’s reaction was out of bounds, you did say a very strange thing. Care to explain yourself?”

“I’ve been saying it since I was a kid! I don’t know why or where it came from, but I had a fascination with potatoes, so it probably had something to do with that.”

“Plus you had that potato gun,” Tony remembered. “That certainly hurt if you got shot with it.”

“Like I said. The potatoes were a thing.”

“Don’t you hate potatoes?” Peter asked.

“I hate baked potatoes,” Harley confirmed. “I don’t like mashed potatoes very much either. Any mushy potato is awful and I hate it.”

“Is that why you’re picky about french fries?” Tony asked.

“Yes.”

“Honestly, that makes sense. So there’s nowhere else that came from?”

“I don’t think so,” Harley frowned. “Sometimes I think maybe I heard someone else say it first, but it was mostly a good way to get away with saying ‘that’s a pain in the ass’ without swearing at an age where it was inappropriate to do so.”

“Fair enough. Are you satisfied?” He turned back to Peter, who still looked skeptical.

“I still have questions, but I suspect I will not get answers, so I shall refrain from asking them.”

“Thank you,” Harley said. “However, I do have questions that need answers.”

“Such as?”

“How did you hear me from across the room? I barely whispered that, and it’s not exactly quiet in here. There’s no way you could have heard me.”

“Actually I think we should be done with questions now,” Peter said quickly, making an attempt to go back to his own work.

“No, no, I don’t think so.” Harley got up and walked over to Peter’s station and perched himself on his desk. “You started this, you finish it. That’s how this works.”

“I don’t think it should work like that. Tony, tell him it shouldn’t work like that.”

“Peter, deal with the consequences of your own actions.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Harley had to answer our questions that didn’t have solid answers. We both know there is a real answer to this, so I’m not letting you get out of this.”

Peter released a long breath before looking back up at Harley. “I’m not answering the question.”

“Tony-”

“If I leave, will you tell him? I get it if you just don’t want me to see this become a lover’s spat, but you need to tell him eventually.”

“Is it something I’m going to be upset about?” Harley asked.

“Yes, please leave,” Peter told Tony. “And you might be upset, but if you let me explain, I think you’ll understand.”

Tony vacated the lab as Peter worked to find the words to tell him something. It wasn’t like him to be this aggravated about telling Harley something.

“Should we start with your original question?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know how you heard me.”

“I have super hearing.”

Harley blinked. “Okay. Super hearing. Cool. I don’t want to think about what kind of headache that must be.”

“Oh yeah, it was awful at first. The thing is, super hearing isn’t the only power I have. Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Spider-Man. His boyfriend is Spider-Man. Harley understood why Peter thought he would be upset.

Truth be told, he couldn’t figure out how to react at all. Instead, he just stared at him.

“It would cause me much less anxiety if you said something,” Peter said nervously. “I’d honestly prefer it even if you started yelling at me.”

Finally he recovered his senses. “I’m not going to yell at you,” Harley assured him. “I’m just shocked. Why didn’t you think you could tell me?”

“I thought you’d be mad,” Peter mumbled.

“Mad? That you’re a hero? Sweetheart, I would never be mad at you for that. Anxious that you’ll get hurt, sure, but not mad.”

“Then you won’t mind if I steal your weird potato phrases when I’m on patrol?”

“You know, the real pain in the potatoes might have been you all along,” Harley teased. “Spider-Man might get some weird looks for that, but sure, steal my weird sayings. If I think of any more, I’ll write them down for you.”

“Thank you,” Peter laughed. “I appreciate it.”

“Hey,” Harley said softly, leaning down to kiss his temple. “I love you, don’t forget that. Maybe you can tell me all about being Spider-Man later.”

“After you fix the thing that made you potato-swear at it?”

“After I do that, yes. My helmet will not fix itself, and neither will whatever it is you’ve got there.”

“Web fluid,” Peter said, shaking the vial he was holding.

“Seriously?”

“No, this is water,” he deadpanned. “Seriously, get back to work. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go upstairs and I can thrill you with my terrifying adventures as Spidey.”

“Fine, fine,” Harley said, sliding off the desk.

“Wait,” Peter caught his hand before he walked away, and kissed it. “I love you too, by the way.”

#ellis writes #parkner #harley keener #peter parker #harley keener x peter parker #harley keener as iron lad #fluff #fluff and humor #humor #dylan laken tag

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feedingonthegoore · 1 year

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*slides a free space card* ... Tell us more about Tobias

WELL HELLO YES I CAN DO THAT!

mans is so talented and skilled like.....he can act for sure. 4 papas and a cardinal and they've ALL had such different personalities and voices and moves and aaaaaaaa how DOES HE DO IT - GOAT FR

also he has the cutest lil freckles and moles on his lower back (i can provide evidence if necessary) and i'm pretty sure i've seen some on his arms/chest/face too :3 who doesn't love a man with some angel kisses on him? hehe

his song writing ability is out of this world like.........cirice? respite on the spitalfields?? ROOM 611?! POONEY TUNE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ok im taking the piss with the last one but musically it's so fun and lyrically it's hilarious so again, skill. XD i could name every song he's ever written that we've heard but i shan't do that cause everyone already knows how awesome they are.

MUSICAL INSTRUMENT GENIUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the dude can play SO MANY INSTRUMENTS - i especially love his bass playing abilities. bass is my favorite instrument so ya know....bonus points to him. but yes, so musically skilled in song writing and instrumentation.

so how about those vocals..........................................................his voice has changed so much over the years. idk how he does it. i love the subvision range. repugnant era has me scared and horny. ghost? the gentle nasally melodies he lays into my ears.......man.......mr. i DoNt WaNt To Be A vOcAlIsT has become quite the vocalist of rock. :o)

he gets extra points for mentioning the autism spectrum. extra extra points for helping trans kids. extra extra extra points for shitting in a sink.

ok fiiiiiiiine i'll finally lay into physical appearance.

dear reader if you've made it this far and don't like thirst about tobias then i suggest you keep scrolling til you get away from this post.

HAVE YOU SEEN HIM GOOD GOD. he keeps getting finer with age i swear. imma keep it PG but like, he's so fit and tight i just drool.....all the time......dem legs.......hips...........................................those little glimpses of tummy we get? end me every time. *slurp* small package has gigantic contents. no innuendo there by the way. we'll get to that later. i have some favorites about his physical being i shan't say publicly but just know i'm thinkin about them right now. the tattoos make him even hotter uuuuuuuughhhhhhh mans has me in a vice grip. his face, a face that has been kissed by the gods. how can a mortal man be so fuckin delicious i'll never know but he's proof. i said i was gonna keep it PG so that's all you're gettin'.

anywho these are just my current thots feel free to ask again later for different things lmao

#q&a #thirsteasaint

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detect-thoughts · 2 years

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I'm back!!! 54-59 for Lucy because I think he'll provide some really interesting answers for those!! and 17-21 for seeker!!! hehehe

👀👀👀 Well let's see then....

For Lucy

54. how important is money in their life? do they save up for ages, or spend quickly?

Lucy is definitely a big spender. And it's not even because of any kind of lavish taste or nobleborn habits from growing up rich. It's just a combination of the fact that being a wizard is expensive and he wants so many spells as soon as gets access to new levels and the fact that he loves trinkets and minor magical curios and giving gifts to his friends.

Beyond that money has no value to him, it is simply a means to acquire things and were there other ways to get them he would do so.

55. they’re seeing their greatest wish come true—what’s happening?

He's climbed the academic ladder of his career, acquiring promotion after promotion until he stands at the rank just below the Archmage.

He is well known and respected and his name is uttered the world around, not just for his accomplishments in his fields of study, the discoveries he has made and the spells he has published, but also for his reputation as an extremely capable and efficient fighter who's list of belief-defying feats stack as tall as himself, a reputation crafted by hand over years of hard work and many adventures.

He has an informal and trusting relationship with his Archmage mentor, whom he sees as a father figure and in return views him as a son, one he can be proud of.

As well as a familiar and competitive yet still friendly relationship with his peers, a group consisting of the top students from the other colleges and nations. His Archmage has planned to retire and he has been named as next in line to his seat upon the council.

56. who would they trust with their life, unequivocally?

At this point in time? There truly is only one. The groups Goliath Paladin, Thaavia Godbarter. She has already saved his life a number of times, and tended his wounds more times than he can count. It was she that saved him when he lost his arm, taught him how to get used to the prosthetic, helped him put it on in the mornings and brushed his hair while he adjusted and regained his finer motor skills with it.

57. do they see value in the laws of where they live?

Lucy is somewhere between True Neutral and Choatic Neutral, and views the laws more like suggestions. He will try not to break them frequently or openly but won't hesitate to throw them aside when they're inconvenient or he disagrees with them.

58. how often do they swear? do they mind when others swear?

I don't think a single day goes by without the instictive curse when something inevitable goes wrong, it's not a loud display of foul language, just under breath mutterances and general curses.

59. what’s an element of their philosophy that you disagree with?

That you should expect little from others and try to do all the work yourself to make sure it's done right. I am not a wizard and other peoples responsibilities are not my problems. I am not gonna pick up after others due to lack of faith.

For Seeker

17. they’re crying—what did it take to make them cry?

Oh shit that's a really good question. I'm not sure honestly, I can't really share his backstory yet for reasons but it's pretty fucking bleak tbh, perhaps the permanent death of his most trusted companion and friend, his familiar.

18. what dish brings back the best memories for them?

Goulash, a hot, spicy beef goulash in autumn or winter. His childhood was far from good but he remembers the good times and the warm meals he did have.

19. what sparks genuine, unadulterated rage in them?

The mistreatment of children, the burning of books, the hoarding of knowledge against the interests of others and greed. Entities that prey on the weak and defenceless or take more than they need to the detriment of others.

20. what attracts them to someone—platonically and/or romantically, anything counts.

A willingness to listen and learn and an interest in sharing knowledge. It doesn't matter whether they're smart or not, it's about attitude over intelligence. He'll take the curious barbarian over the snobby wizard any day of the week. It's all about effort and the intent to use knowledge for good.

21. do they have an idea about how they’ll die? do you?

They have a couple ideas, some poetic, some ironic, certainly not of old age that's for sure, Hags are immortal and do not age, and therefore neither do Hexbloods. It will probably be self sacrifice, assassination, or cannibalism.

#You were right Kramp these are some really interesting questions #Some of these answers were not easy #Had to think a while on these #Good questions though!#I hope you find these answers satisfactory #I'd love to know if any answers caught your attention or if there's anything further you're curious about #I'd love to hear your thoughts!#Thank you for the asks!!!!#Lucy #Seeker #Ask #Death-Ward

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astoldbysamoria · 2 years

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Fresh off an indignant fight with my on and off ex, Travis, I decided since we were done for good, I would go for the juggler & give this one guy a chance who’s been pining after me since high school apparently. I can’t recall, but he swears he has been engrossed since high school. I scanned the closet for the prettiest LBD that I hadn’t worn yet, lotioned myself up after my shower, sprayed my hotspots with Chance by Chanel, slid in my Miu Mui’s and raced out the door because as always, I was already late. I went out with my girls to our normal hangout, Carolina Ale House (CAL). We go for the drinks & the Spinach Dip…& because they’re the only thing open late in Winston besides hole in the wall bars. After a couple of cocktails, I had convinced myself that Tariq would be seeing me tonight. I only say “convince myself” because Tariq really wasn’t my type. He was a little chubbier than I liked, & he was kind of loud. I just never thought about it like that. One night, he rubbed my feet while me and my girlfriend’s were out having drinks a month prior & we met up again shortly after. We were texting every day, pretty much. So, he grew on me. I needed to see if they were convinced as well, though. I think I value my girlfriends opinions way too much.. “Should I have sex with Tariq?” I tried to spit out casually, “No.” said Jade. Jade was one of my prettiest friends. She always had her face beat to the 9’s, her eyebrows were too die for, & she had the nose that the White women paid thousands for. Even in her natural state, she was a beauty. A Taurus like me, (though Jade is an April 24th Taurus.) I feel like she gives more Aries. She is a Cancer moon too & has proven that time and time again. “Why not? I might as well. I’m mad at Travis, like I just need to get over him so I’m going to get under someone else.” I said annoyed. “What you need to do is be by yourself. I keep telling you all this and you never listen.” The “you all” she’s referring to consists of our other friend, Adriana. Called Adri for short. Adri is the youngest out of my friend group, but she has lived a very full life. She’s Latina, thick, gorgeous, very hardworking, ALWAYS has money & like me, she likes the finer things in life. It’s all or nothing with her. Adri’s a Sagittarius Sun, Libra moon. Relationship’s & friendship’s are everything to her. She’s been to jail, sold drugs, crossed the border, & beat a crazy a$$ case, all within a year. I thought she was my age when I met her. Adri walks up with her mock tail (she isn’t drinking for a year since her jail stint. She promised to God she wouldn’t drink or do drugs if he got her out of there.) “Why are you yelling, Jordan?” “Jade said I shouldn’t sleep with Tariq. Now, she’s trying to preach that ‘be by yourself’ bull. Like, B*TCH!! You don’t even be by yourself, like be for real.” I shouted this out very angrily & quick, then went back to drinking my Lemon Drop Martini. “Mama, why do you want us to be miserable so bad?” Adri purred out looking at Jade. “I’m bout to beat all of y’all asses! I do not want y’all to miserable. I’m tired of being the mom. I just know there is never a moment where you two are alone.” Jade was like the Joan to my Toni from Girlfriends. “Well, mom. I need you to drive me to his house, since I’m never alone.” Right as I said this, another guy I had re-connected with a few weeks prior; Mike, was FaceTiming me. One thing about me, I love to recycle. Mike & I had never had sex, or even kissed. I can’t remember why we stopped talking, but I remember he was away in college and I was still home in college. It was more of a text/Oovoo (IYKYK.) relationship. He was so handsome. Back in the day, I would die to know that I was talking to Mike on the regular; but this is now. I just wasn’t pressed anymore. Jade & I paid our tabs, kissed Adri goodbye and got in the car. Mike is all in my business trying to figure out if I’m going home..”Um, yeah. I’m going to call you back though.” “Yeah, make sure you d-” I hung up before he even finished his sentence. “He talks entirely too much.”

#20 something #twenty something #hello my twenties #love #relationships #my words #written by me #written by women #black women #latina

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

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The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student.

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much.

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me.

That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

Spencer is horribly frustrated.

A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

And play she has.

From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

“Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

“Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

“Yes, my love?”

Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

“I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

“Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

“I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

“You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

“Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

“You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

“That’s why.”

Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

“I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

“Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

“You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

“Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

“Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

“Jump.”

It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

“Spencer!”

Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

“You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

“I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

She silences those fears with a kiss.

“Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

“Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

“Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

“I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

“Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

“Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

“It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

“As they should. That was sensational.”

Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

“What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

“I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

“I have a few ideas.”

taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox @whxt-to-write @calm-and-doctor @jessalyn-jpeg @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae @itsmytimetoodream @kasaikawa @shadyladyperfection

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #professor!spencer #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler fanfic #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #smut #professor!reid

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marta-bee · 2 years

Text

I’ve been thinking an awful lot about the headcanon I read somewhere last week, about a totally feral Maglor moving in to Imladris by the late Third Age.

This is utterly, undeniably hilarious in light of the popular fanon that Elrond was --shall we say-- a bit uncouth when he lands in Gil-Galad’s court after wandering the wilds with Maedhros & Maglor. Just the thought of Elrond having to deal with that from the other side. Such fun.

But what’s really caught my imagination is the idea of Bilbo, writing his ill-advised song about Earendil with Maglor’s help, and Elrond just having to sit there and listen with Maglor sitting in the corner. Grinning widely if not outright cackling, even while there’s a pathos-laden truth to it all that Bilbo is clueless to: that, whatever their reasons, Earendil and Elwing abandoned their children (were forced to abandon, whatever; when you’re --what-- all of seven such finer points get lost in the noise), and in what is arguably the first commendable thing he’d done in an inexcusably long time, Maedhros and Maglor were There.

Still. Angst aside, Maglor “helping” Bilbo just knowing how some of those points are going to hit Elrond as he has to hear the song in public is hilarious to me, in the same way my brother and sister and I used to take great joy in torturing each other in the most creative and witty ways possible. Family can be like that some time, and doubly so when your family is, well, Like That.

I swear, if I still had a muse and/or writerly discipline, I would so be writing this in fic form.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #maglor #elrond

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mindninjax · 3 years

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I love your blog so much! I fr just found you and when I read your work, I fell in love 🥺💖💕 Can a girl request head cannons of Hawks, Bakugo, and Shinsou seeing their black!fem! S/o in a shoulderless bodycon dress? Shit is shaping the curves like nobody’s business and they just looking finer than usual 🥵

Hello Hello my love! Thank you so much for requesting! I had funnnnn and I hope you enjoy it! 😘😘

Bakugo and Shinsou are aged up in this just as a heads up and there’s some slightly suggestive content.

Hawks:

Ok so as well all know Hawks’ side gig is as a model I mean how could it not be he’s the prettiest pro out there like what?)

So since he’s a model he’s pretty adept at fashion, he takes pride in his outfits even when they’re just outfits to chill in he’s a pretty boi to the max bahaha

So when he gets the chance to see you all dressed up, he’s all over you.

Yall have a hero gala thing to go to and he’s already been asked by multiple designers to wear their stuff

What he doesn’t know is that the designers have also been asking YOU to wear their stuff and that you’ve been working with one of them to show up and show OUT.

Hawks arrives at the gala first, gets his publicity in, all the paparazzi screaming his name

But when you step out of the car to meet him, all the paparazzi are trying to figure out what he’s staring at all slack jawed.

Baby when I tell you Hawks ain’t know your proportions were as perfect as they are, HE FOUND OUT THAT NIGHT.

The dress hugs you in every place it should to accentuate your finest features and it hangs elegantly where it’s supposed to flow freely.

Not to mention the braids you just got freshly done swinging with your hips as you walk. Baby hairs SLICKED AND SWIRLED down

Hawks can’t keep his hands off you the entire night.

The paparazzi have to keep asking him to move his wings from around your body so they can get pictures of the dress cuz he’s jealous and don’t want anybody to see how sexy you are

Bakugo:

Alright listen, Katsu is the love of my life ok. I love him so much, but the boy can’t dress for shit. He knows nothing about fashion.

So when he sees you in the dress, his first thought isn’t “oh damn she fine as fuck”

He’s like “Why your titties out? We’re going to a party, that’s just for me to see”

Sometimes I really do see Katsu as one of those “go change right now” boys ya feel me.

Yall get into a little argument when he tells you to go change because you’re a grown ass woman and he’s not your daddy.

OK but when you say the “You ain’t my daddy” line he stops and really looks at you cuz he remembers the last time yall were intimate.

He gives you a little evil teasing smirk while looking you up and down and that's when he finally takes in how good that dress looks on you,

Cuz now he’s ready to take it off. He smiling at you slyly “That’s not what you were saying last night”

Needless to say yall didn’t make it to the party and Katsu ended up appreciating the dress both on and off you.

Shinsou:

My mans Shinsou holds himself in high regard after he becomes a pro.

He KNOWS you fine as fuck and he swears there’s nothing that could surprise him when it comes to how good you look cuz he already know

So when he sees you show up for yall date in that fine ass dress, with your hair laid, makeup on point, legs looking all strong and sexy in your strappy heels he looks like he’s unamused.

But Ima tell you a little secret on how you’ll know you caught his cocky ass off guard with your sexiness.

All night while yall are out he gone be saying little shit like “I already knew you were hot, you didn’t have to impress me” with that little teasing cute ass smirk he gives.

He’ll say that right, but while yall walking around he’ll hold you just a bit closer to his side than he usually does, grasp your hand tighter, sneak little kisses on your neck when no one is looking.

His favorite part is the way your clavicles look in your dress. Like I said, mans know your body is banging, so your cleavage and your ass aren’t what gets him. It’s the little intimate places like your neck and clavicles.

Best believe you gone be marked up when yall get home.

#hawks x reader #bakugo x reader #Shinsou x reader #hawks x black!reader #bakugou x black!reader #shinsou x black!reader #Marquie’s requests

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banditnoo · 3 years

Text

My Castle of Ships {1/2} - Merlin One Shot

Summary | {A strange phenomenon had occurred when Arthur had been born by magic. He now had the ability to read minds. Nobody knew of his gifts. Arthur knew from a young age that sorcery was not welcomed in Camelot. With fears that his own father would banish or harm him, he kept his piece of magic to himself. A piece of magic that had become much less of a burden after he had been crowned king, and for moments like these; While he was bored and Merlin daydreamed.}

Tags | {Merthur, Magic Arthur AU, mind reader AU, Major Character Death}

Warnings | {Like one swear word? Angsty, but not as gut wrenching as 5x13}

a/n | {I’ve finally worked up the courage to post some of my writing on Tumblr! This has been cross posted to AO3 (Legendary_Julia) and Wattpad (GreaserGal19). Maybe one day I’ll get my usernames in order, but today is not that day. Part 2 will come out... at some point. This was suppose to be a stand alone story, but our boys deserve better. Thanks for checking me out, happy reading!}

~~~

{A strange phenomenon had occurred when Arthur had been born by magic. He now had the ability to read minds. Nobody knew of his gifts. Arthur knew from a young age that sorcery was not welcomed in Camelot. With fears that his own father would banish or harm him, he kept his piece of magic to himself. A piece of magic that had become much less of a burden after he had been crowned king, and for moments like these; While he was bored and Merlin daydreamed.}

~~~

Merlin was a daydreamer, he always had been. He'd often find himself thinking of Ealdor while he puttered about Arthur's chambers. Sometimes he would imagine what it would be like to rule his own kingdom, to make his own rules. While he scrubbed away at Arthur's hunting boots, he built his own castle. The citadel would be magnificent. The walls would stand tall, glittering with a hint of magic. Beautiful tapestries would hang from every wall, depicting anything the passerby's wished. A series of tunnels would wind throughout and underneath the stone walls, eventually connecting to water. Yes, the castle would have to be by the ocean. Merlin smiled to himself as he pictured it. The birds, the sound of waves crashing against the rocky shores, and the ships. Merlin loved the idea of having ships. With a boat like that he could sail anywhere, do anything. That's what it could be, his castle of ships.

Arthur had to smile at the name. He too pictured the castle from his spot at his desk. He could only imagine the beauty of a kingdom Merlin could build with his magic. The Castle of Ships.

"Has a nice ring to it," Arthur muttered to himself, to caught up in the image to realize he had said anything aloud.

"What was that?"

"Hmm?"

"You said something."

"No, I did not."

"Yes, yo-"

"You're hearing things Merlin, go back to whatever it is you where doing. Maybe scrub a different spot before you muck up my good boots."

Arthur stood up abruptly, leaving a confused Merlin watch him briskly walk out of his chambers.

"He really has gone mad." Merlin muttered as he began to clean the other boot.

~~~

Merlin knew someone was listening. He's felt the presence in the castle for a long time, but could never quite pinpoint it. He had tried to call out many times. Perhaps there was a Druid somewhere within Camelot trying to communicate, or an evil doer with a presence too strong to ignore. But there was never an answer. He was always left alone with his thoughts, which he was slowing getting scared to think.

When the presence felt strong, Merlin would busy his mind with his daydreams. He would think of home, or add details to his imaginary kingdom.

He did his best daydreaming during round table meetings. The presence would always be strong in the throne room, the magic almost danced through the air. It was here that he added the finer details of his castle.

He constructed a grand portrait hall as Leon droned on about the months finances. The long room would have the most brilliant red carpet, lined with an intricate gold and black pattern. He could almost feel himself walking through the grand hallway as he leaned against the cold stone of the throne room walls. As he imagined himself walking along, he thought about whos portraits he would put on display. He would have his mother, of course, and Gwen, his first friend in Camelot. He could picture the cocky smirk on Gwaine's portrait and the valiant yet understanding look on Lancelot's. His eyes scanned around the round table, imagining all of his friends in their best Camelot red, striking wild poses for the artist. They eventually landed on Arthur, whose head was resting lazily against his hand, trying his best to listen to Leon. Merlin hummed to himself, placing Arthur's portrait at the end of the hallway. It would be the only place fit for his king.

He had heard once of a spell that made the portraits move within their frames, adopting the personality of its subject. He studied Arthur's face as he thought, committing every detail to memory. The way his golden hair fell across his forehead in soft wisps, and how his nose came to a gentle point, complimenting the rest of his face. His favourite feature of Arthur's has always been his eyes. A piercing blue that found him in any room they were in.

They were the same blue eyes that were staring at him now, Merlin realized, staring back, not daring to look away now. Their shared a million words with just a look, a conversation no one else would hear.

Are you as bored as I am?

When is dinner?

When will Leon stop talking?

How's the castle of ships coming?

Merlin's heart dropped. He was imagining things, right? He had to be. They weren't really talking to each other, after all. It was all in his head, somewhere Arthur most definitely was not. He was quickly becoming aware of the overwhelming sense of magic flowing through the room.

I know you're in my head. Make yourself known. I don't know what you want, but you won't be getting it.

Arthur was taken aback by the threatening tone in Merlin's voice. He hadn't realized that Merlin could sense the presence of his magic, or that he was so threatened by it. His eyes dropped quickly, looking at everything but Merlin in the corner of the room.

"Is everything alright, Sire? You looked concerned." Leon's address took Arthur by surprise. Sitting up as fast and as straight as possible, he voided his face of any emotion as he shook his head.

"Yes, yes. Everything is fine. We must ensure that patrol around the citadel continues. I've caught wind of a potential threat. A sorcerer."

"Are you sure, sire? I haven't heard of such a thing."

"Certain. I trust my sources," with a final glance at Merlin, he nodded at Leon, urging him to continue with the meeting.

~~~

Arthur's eyes followed Merlin around his chambers. He could hear his thoughts going a mile a minute as he absentmindedly straightened the pillows on the bed.

"There is something on your mind," Arthur said, not moving his head from where it rested in the crook of his elbow, all but laying on the table.

"What makes you say that?"

"I can see it in your eyes." Their eyes connected from across the room, but Merlin looked away quickly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again,

"Something is troubling you, and I want you to tell me. Please, Merlin, there is no need to lie."

Merlin was fighting with himself, and Arthur didn't need to be a mind reader to see it. They stayed like this, Arthur looking at Merlin and Merlin looking at the floor. They both felt the heavy magic in the room, but neither acknowledged it.

"Have you ever missed a place you've never been? A place that never really was?"

"I never took you for a philosopher, Merlin," Arthur couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face, or the fondness in his eyes, "if this is about your mother, I've told you. She is more than welcome here. I know how much you think of her."

"No, it's- that's not quite it."

'Not thinking of running away, are we?" Arthur's smile grew bigger as he spoke. He knew that's what it was, Merlin had been thinking about it for weeks. He wasn't worried, though. He knew Merlin would never leave without a goodbye, and a chance to convince him to stay. The guilty look in Merlin's eyes confirmed what Arthur already knew.

"I would never! Who would deal with your royal ass everyday if I left?"

"It's a simple fix, really. I would just have to come with you. Make sure you don't get yourself killed."

"Arthur Pendragon on the road? I don't believe it for a minute." Merlin smiled as he spoke. He imagined the two of them running away, into the castle of ships.

Many sleepless nights had allowed Merlin countless hours to add onto the castle. In the late hours of the night, he added gardens and ballrooms, imagined the wind on his face as he held tightly to the mast of a massive wooden ship. Those same nights, Arthur would lay awake in his own chambers, halfway across the castle, and imagine the beauty for himself as he listened to Merlin describe his castle grounds in a way that a child listens to his mother read a bedtime story.

"I am perfectly capable, thank you," Arthur rose form his spot at the table, making his way over to the bed and trying his best not to sound too amused, " and put some wood on the fire, would you? We've got an early morning tomorrow. We're travelling to Annis' land. She wishes to discuss the safety of both our borders villages."

"Is there a reason I was not told of this sooner?"

"It's simply business, Merlin. There's no need to worry. Get some sleep, you'll need it for the journey."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Merlin muttered as he left, shutting the door tightly.

"I heard that!"

"Go to sleep!"

~~~

The knights laughed loudly as their horses carried them down the well-beaten trail. An agreement was reached between Arthur and Annis about the protection of the border villages, making it much safer for villagers in each kingdom to travel through the border forests.

"Smile, Merlin! We're celebrating!" Gwaine gave Merlin's should a rough pat as his horse rode up alongside Merlin's. He held out a water skin, no doubt filled with ale, and gestured it towards Merlin.

"You're always celebrating, Gwaine." He took a long sip before handing back to Gwaine, nodding his thanks. He would need a drink if he was going to deal with the knights for the ride back to Camelot.

Merlin turned to his daydreams as their journey back continued. He was picturing a beautiful courtyard, lush with apple trees and all kinds of flowers, when his magic started to tingle. He hardly noticed it at first, brushing it off as the change in the wind, but the feeling kept growing stronger.

Someone was watching them.

They were just leaving Caerleon's borders through a valley, the perfect place for an ambush. Merlin looked around, uneasy. His body tensed at every little sound as the forest came into view. He was fighting with himself. If he told Arthur, would he believe him? What if it really was nothing? No, his magic wouldn't deceive him like that. He looked at Arthur, who was riding a short distance in front of him.

Merlin didn't even have to call his name for Arthur to turn around. As soon as their eyes met, a look of concern filled his face. His hand came up, signaling the group to stop. He looked toward the tree line, signaling for his men to do the same. Much to Arthur's horror, it was deathly quiet. The birds stopped chirping and the wind seemed to stop howling. The air around them was still as the group looked around.

"Did you hear something, sire?"

"No. That's exactly the issue."

"If we are quick, we can make it to the trees. Find safety in the forest."

Despite Leon's suggestion, nobody moved a muscle.

They continued looking towards the trees, before Merlin gave Arthur a hard nudge. Getting ready to tell him off, Arthur turned quickly on his horse before following his line of sight. Standing atop the rocky hills on either side of the valley were dozens of men wearing loose black and brown clothing, swords and bows drawn, pointed at the much smaller group of knights.

"AMBUSH!"

The horses started going crazy, whinnying and thrashing in an attempt to throw off the knights. Swords were drawn as the bandits began to yell, running down the hills at all angles. They were outnumbered, far too outnumbered to stand a chance against even the weakest opponents. Arthur unsheathed his sword, trying to regain control of his horse.

"Head for the trees!"

Picking off only the first attackers, it was a race between time, the bandits, and making it to the cover of the woods. Taking a sword from one of the bandits bodies, Merlin was quick to follow Arthur. With his heart pounding in his ears, he could no longer hear the commotion of the fight. He could only hope he was losing them.

~~~

Merlin's head was spinning as he stumbled through the thick underbrush of the forest. He had lost his horse when he lost sight of Arthur. He dragged his stolen sword loosely behind him as he tried to ignore the searing pain in his shoulder. The bandits had been quicker than he thought, and had much better aim than what he'd like to give them credit for. He had barely cleared the trees when the arrow struck his shoulder, no doubt coated in a poison that his mind was too foggy to identify.

Things had gone downhill very quickly after that. The sun had set what Merlin could only guess was hours ago. The forest was so dark he could hardly tell which way was up. He was ready to give up finding the others. He had wandered for hours, they could've been halfway back to Camelot by now.

Merlin had stopped for a moment, leaving heavily against a tree to try to catch his breath, weighing his options as he grimaced at the pain shooting through his arm. He stayed there for a few minutes, waiting, listening to the forest. He heard the magic in the forest as it flowed through every tree, every leaf. There were owls in the distance, and the sound of insects flying by. And footsteps? Although the sword was in his good hand, Merlin was weak as he swung blindly behind him. Hearing the dull thud of metal on metal, and a familiar grunt, Merlin dared to turn around.

"It's a good thing you've got sticks for arms," Arthur huffed out a weak laugh as he took the sword from Merlin.

When Arthur pulled him into a hug, Merlin was ready to defend himself, but he was to tired too do anything but lean into the cool metal of Arthur's chainmail. A gentle 'hmff' was all he could manage.

Arthur took Merlin by the shoulders and held him at arms length, giving him a once over. It was hard to see in the dark, but he could see the blood that coated Merlin left shoulder and arm, and now his own hand.

"I would never leave you behind! How could you think that?" Arthur sounded heartbroken as he gripped onto Merlin's good arm tightly.

"I didn't- how-"

"You didn't need to say it out loud for me to hear you."

Confusion was evident in Merlin's eyes as he scanned Arthur's face, looking for any trace of a joke, but he found nothing.

"It's you, isn't it? That presence, that magic... It's you?"

"It always has been."

The magic danced between them, like it had a thousand times before, but there was no fear behind it, not this time.

"You're hurt."

"I noticed."

Merlin leaned into Arthur's arm, trying to stay steady.

"Can you walk? Let me take you to the others. We've set up a camp, we'll be safer there."

"Only if you carry me. Like a damsel in distress."

"Absolutely not," Arthur scoffed as he picked Merlin up bridal style, slinging his good arm around the back of his neck, making sure not to move him too much.

"Hey! I was kidding, you prat! Put me down!"

"Would you rather I drag you? Quit your complaining. If your swing at me was any indication of your strength, you wouldn't have made it another step." Arthur tried to hide the growing concern in his voice. He looked down at Merlin's face, which was now rested against his shoulder, and he could tell it wasn't good. He only now got a good look at what had happened, and his heart sunk. He had had knights that couldn't recover from a wound like that, where the arrow was haphazardly ripped out in an attempt to get rid of the poison it was laced with.

"Merlin?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me about the castle. The castle of ships. I'm sure there's parts that I've missed. I can't be in your head all the time."

Merlin smiled, closing his eyes as he shook his head against Arthur's shoulder,

"It's a stupid idea."

"It can't be that stupid, you put a lot of thought into it. Have you ever thought of becoming a storyteller?"

The laugh that came out of Merlin was short and hoarse, but Arthur needed him to keep talking. They were still a long walk away from the camp, and Arthur was willing to do anything to get Merlin there alive.

"I didn't realize I had such a way with words."

"Please?"

"What would you like to hear about, my lord."

"I won't hesitate to drop you."

Merlin let out another laugh, much rougher than the last one, that quickly turned into a fit of heavy, wet coughing. Arthur continued to walk, the only sound being his boots hitting the ground for a long time before Merlin began to speak.

"The grand hall, it would stand alone from the rest of the castle. It would have a long, stone pathway for guests to walk along as they gathered for feasts and balls. It would be lined with rose bushed and allium flowers, the dark purple ones."

There was another coughing fit before he continued, "the double doors, they would be engraved. With dragons, fairies, things of magic. Did you know your shoulder isn't very comfortable?"

"I wouldn't imagine, with it being covered in armor and all. Tell me about the boats. They are my favourite part."

"What about them? I've never seen a ship, only the pictures in Gaius' books. They're fascinating, aren't they?"

He could hardly finish his sentence before he started coughing again. It shook through his whole body, making him ache.

"Come on, Merlin. Keep talking. Give me something, a thought, anything. It's not long until we'll be back with the knights. Elyan will fix you right up. Good as new, right?"

Merlin gave a weak smile, "good 's new..."

"Why do you find ships so interesting? They are just big, fancy boats."

Arthur could hear Merlin's thoughts, still going a mile a minute despite him thinking almost nothing at all.

" 's exactly it. They're big, they're fancy."

"Is there a spell for that? Could you create one?"

"A spell for what?"

"Building things. Constructing this castle, making ships."

"I'm sure I could figure it out."

Merlin shifted in Arthurs arms, trying to make himself more comfortable before hissing out in pain and trying to reach for his shoulder.

"Are you trying to bleed out? Quit moving!"

Arthur's words came out harsher that he intended, though there was sadness in his voice. Merlin continued to wiggle until Arthur dropped his legs. Keeping one hand around Merlin's waist, he used his other hand to keep a firm pressure on his shoulder. Against Merlin's protest and Arthur's better judgment, they continued walking through the dark.

"We're not going to make it in time." Merlin was leaning heavily into Arthur's side, barely keeping his footing at he stumbled over another tree root.

"We're going to make it. You're not going dying on me now Merlin. That's an order."

"When have I ever listened to those?"

Merlin stopped walking, forcing Arthur to stop next to him. Letting himself fall to his knees, he landed with a small 'thump' on the cold ground, the blanket of pine needles and leaves welcomed him. Arthur lowered himself after him, keeping one hand at Merlin's side, his other hand reached out to rest against Merlin's cheek, keeping his head steady as he closed his eyes.

"Keep your eyes open Merlin. Come on, looks at me. Say something."

"Remember my story, won't you? You've heard me tell it a thousand times. Built that castle of ships. For me?"

"I won't build it unless your there to see it. Open your eyes, Merlin, please." Arthur felt hot tears roll down his face as he looked at Merlin. His friend, his best friend, his only friend, was going to die.

Merlin opened his eyes slowly, only getting them halfway opened before they became to heavy to move. Arthur moved the hand on Merlin's waist to his back, gently pulling him into another hug. They sat like this, in silence for a long time, Arthur not daring to pull away.

Arthur started to hum a gentle tune in a last ditch effort to break the silence, not trusting his own voice to not break if he spoke. It was a tune he had caught Merlin humming hundreds of times. It reminded him of the warmth of the castle, how comfortable he was when he watched Merlin go about his duties from his spot at his desk, listening to the story of a magnificent castle being built and the mighty ships that gave it it's name. It reminded him of all the times he had to stop himself from revealing his piece of magic to Merlin, to tell him that he wasn't alone, that he wasn't hated.

The quiet song came to an end and Arthur stopped, listening to the sounds of the forest and hoping to hear a voice amongst the gentle rustle of trees, but he heard nothing. There wasn't a cough, nor a cry or a snarky remark, not even a thought. It was quiet, deafeningly so as Arthur began to cry. Long, ugly sobs were the only sound as he pulled Merlin closer to him, begging, pleading for him to move, get up, say something, kick him, yell at him, anything.

But alas, there was nothing. Only silence as Arthur continued to cry. He cried for the loss of his friend, his dearest friend. He cried for the loss of the kingdom they never got to create with each other.

He cried, sobbed, begged, and bargained. But that too, only ended in silence.

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mellowdreamer · 4 years

Text

the gaang playing among us

( because i have an unhealthy obsession with this game and have been playing it non-stop)

aang:

the most obvious liar because he’s either too smiley or too monotone

doesn’t like killing people but doesn’t want to let the other imposter down

least likely to throw someone under the bus for his own kill

unless he’s 100% convinced it’s someone, he skips the vote

the one who wants to travel around in groups of people

easily trusts whoever he is walking around with

has the best memory of who is where at what time

likes the shield task because of the noise it makes

katara:

uses sabotage to draw people away from where the body is or to lead them to a perfect murder spot

wins by combining sabotage and good timing

doesn’t like to use the vents in case anyone sees her

always argues the loudest/strongest

trusts sokka, aang and sometimes suki

holds a grudge against whoever kills her and tries to kill them first the next round

finishes her tasks quickly and goes to the security cameras to watch out for any ~funny business~

sokka:

the strategist

has the best timing out of the whole gaang

everyone trusts his word, so he’s constantly throwing people under the bus for his kills

easily figures out who the imposter is through the power of deduction

usually gets killed first because he’s just that good at figuring it out

pays the most attention to the finer details

never the first one to emergencies

if he isn’t killed first, he does all of his tasks super quickly so he can follow people around and watch them either do tasks or murder people

toph:

turns off the lights and kills people in the darkness

hides in the vents until the body is found because she doesn’t trust that no one will see her get out of them

has no strategy to how she completes her tasks. this has led to her getting voted off because people thought she was suspicious for running back and forth throughout the map

the one who killed aang when he thought he could trust her

can never find anyone to watch her do the medbay scan

knows when people are lying, but sometimes she won’t say anything just for the chaos

suki:

loves to get into big clusters of people and kill someone, so that no one can tell who the murderer was even though they were all right there

most likely to kill someone in electrical and get away with it

kills sokka first as a way to show affection (and because he’s the best at deduction)

always accuses azula of being the imposter

has an instinct for who the imposter is and stands by it

always does all of her tasks successfully on the first try

once, when she was caught as imposter by sokka, yelled “sorry aang!” as she was ejected. this convinced everyone else to vote aang out next and consequently lose the game. the other imposter was actually toph.

zuko:

also a pretty obvious liar, because he stutters and trips over his words a lot

can never remember the name of the rooms or where he was

has bad timing with vents but good timing with kills

is the most successful at self reporting, because nobody thinks he has the audacity to kill someone and report it

hates going into electrical because he knows that he’ll get killed in there

convinces people to vote out literally anyone else that they suspected

can’t ever scan his card on the first try

azula:

easily the best liar, to the point where no one trusts a single thing that she says even if she’s innocent

throws other people under the bus constantly

somehow ends up actually being the imposter the least, but is almost always accused of being the imposter

takes the game very seriously and threatens or insults everyone else constantly

brags the most when she wins

if she gets killed, she swears at the person both out loud and in the dead-only chat

tends to deduct who the imposter is early on, but let everyone else hash it out and accuse each other for the drama

always acting sketchy in electrical

mai:

hides in the vents and jumps out to kill people when no one else is around

always quiet whether or not she’s imposter, so barely anyone is suspicious if she isn’t saying anything

most likely to win when imposter

suspicious of everyone else

has a very methodical way of doing tasks but no one knows what it is

likes the downloading tasks, but only if they aren’t in a corridor or out in the open

doesn’t like groups of people but often she will follow zuko, just because he’s too soft on her to murder her

ty lee:

follows people around and pretends to do tasks for ages so that people think she’s innocent

people wrongfully assume she’s a bad liar when she’s actually one of the more skilled liars

can figure out people’s tells pretty easily but she doesn’t want to assume that they’re the imposter so she usually won’t say anything

most likely to run out of time and forget to vote

locks the doors and kills people when they can’t escape

also hates going into electrical so she waits until other people are around before going in

somehow actually likes the maze node tasks

bonus:

suki and sokka are the best imposter team to the point that if there is a really good kill, the gaang automatically suspect them

azula and zuko are a surprisingly good imposter team

zuko is the first to defend mai no matter what

the order of most to least likely to win as imposter is mai, suki, toph, sokka, katara, zuko, ty lee, aang and azula

the order of most to least likely to get wrongfully voted off is azula, toph, zuko, aang, katara, ty lee, sokka, mai and suki

aang chooses yellow, katara chooses dark blue, sokka chooses light blue/cyan, toph doesn’t care what colour she gets, suki chooses lime or green, zuko and azula fight over red (zuko usually loses and ends up with orange), mai immediately grabs black and ty lee goes for pink or purple

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nickfoo · 3 years

Note

You know what for the heck of it and because I’m very curious what are your headcanons you have for Bege, Chiffon, Pez and the rest of the fire tanker crew. If your interested in sharing that is?

Welcome back!

And as for my head canons….whew you might want to strap in because I have quite a few. I’ll try to list what I can think of at the moment.

( I’ll put a read more because this might be long )

Bege:

- Grew up ultimately orphaned in the crime ridden West Blue. Left the home for boys he was at when he was a young age after punching a nun teacher and joined gangs and lived off the street.

- While his childhood certainly wasn’t pleasant, it’s not the reason why even as a young boy, Bege was a trouble child. Most likely had CD- symptoms including aggressive behavior, delinquent behavior, deceitful behavior, destructive behavior and lack of empathy. This also accounts for the whole cutting off animals heads thing he use to do.

- Was a natural during his time in the mob. He quickly excelled in the ranks and got closer to the bosses. There he saw the finer lives and decorum the bosses could afford, along with their reach of influence in the West Blue underworld. This made him break off into his own family, and the rest is history from there.

- When he first met Chiffon it was love at first sight. Despite the fact that he would have said that such a thing was completely and utter bullshit. It was a very confusing time for him, as he didn’t expect to have any feelings for the woman Big Mom would have chosen for him to marry - Bege rarely had any feelings for anything or anyone else at all. Part of Beges attraction to Chiffon is her strength and that she challenges him on his own nature.

- While after the 2 yrs of marrying Chiffon and having Pez has managed to teach him empathy 101, he is very self aware he is not a good person. This causes him occasional internal conflict as he honestly feels he doesn’t deserve a woman as kind as Chiffon. Part of his not denying his poor moral standing is he is a very ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of person concerning himself. He won’t hide or feel ashamed for what he is or what he’s done.

- While he has improved, Bege still has mental disorders that border on psychopathic and sociopathic behavior. ( both tend to be umbrellaed terms ) These disorders are life long, often stem from CD and don’t just go away. He tries to keep himself in check and when he can’t, his crew and family help him ground himself again.

- Bege reads to Pez every night before he sleeps. Bege gave up harder swears ( fuck, bitch ect. ) to clean up his example of speaking for Pez. Despite Pez being far too young, he tries to teach him about chess.

- Other tidbits- Bege dose not like being touched by others unless he knows them very well. He is very particular on certain matters of presentability, order and cleanliness. He isn’t so good at talking about more personal matters. Bad at feelings lol. Absolutely hates being bored.

Chiffon:

- When she first met Bege she was off put about him being older and shorter than her. She had also heard the rumors Big Mom was giving her away to a cold blooded, violent man and feared for her own life.

- She fell for Bege because in the end, he treated her with the love and care she had never received from her own family ( besides Lola ) in her life. Despite being royalty, she was only treated as such by Bege and his men.

- Chiffon was initially more quiet and timid until she married Bege and began to spend more time among him and his crew. It allowed her to really become herself.

- In their relationship, it is surely Chiffon who takes the lead. However on certain circumstances, Bege and Chiffon have a silent agreement that it is best for Bege to step in and take command. She often gets her way and Bege is happy to give it to her. ( this also stems to their -AHEM- more intimate relationship )

- Found Bege’s devil fruit to be one of the more unique types she’s seen. She can tell the small differences from when Bege is manifested inside his castle rather than using his real body outside. She once touched the purple smoke-like stuff he uses to manifest and it felt similar to the fog that comes out from dry ice machines.

- The strongest metal in the world could bend around the patience she has for her husband.

- Chiffon selects the books for Bege to read to Pez. She makes sure they’re appropriate for a child Pez age

- She is the head chef of the Fire Tank kitchen

Vito:

- Was chosen as Bege’s advisor due to his genuinely less cold demeanor and way of thinking. Bege wanted someone who would give him an opinion different than his own on matters

- Has suggested anger management techniques and grounding techniques to his captain

- He designed the Fire Tank logo with the fused T and F that he has tattooed on himself. He is very proud of it.

- paints his nails ( as they are black in the manga and the anime is a coward for not following suit )

- is the one of the better chess players in the crew and Bege is trying to teach him to be a better opponent at the game

Gotti and the Fire Tank Crew:

- They take being uncles to young Pez very seriously. Pez is loved by them all.

- The crew sometimes spy or over hear Bege and Chiffon flirting or being sweet to one another. It’s more like soap opera entertainment for them, plus they like to know their Boss is still very much in love with the Ma’dam. They think she’s good for him.

- Loyal to a fault. Particularly after Bege started treating them well, they certainly love him more than fear him now. ( Still fear him tho lol )

( that’s all I can think of for now. )

#jj-inc20xx #long ask #foo talks #one piece #capone bege #chiffon #vito #gotti #fire tank pirates #Ask foo

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discoscoob · 3 years

Text

Love’s Labours Won | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

The TARDIS arrives in The Dark Ages where the Doctor tries to solve a mystery involving witchcraft. During your stay your relationship with Loki begins to develop due to a mix of a Shakespeare, jealousy and one bed.

Part Three | Part Five | Chapter Index

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: unwanted advances, mild homophobia, death: very minor characters, jealous Loki, swearing, angst, fluff and then more angst

Read on AO3

You were sat crossed legged in front of your floor length mirror, applying eyeliner when the whole room began jerking, which caused your hand to slip and left a long black line smudged over or eyelid.

You huffed in annoyance, as you pulled out a makeup wipe and began cleaning up the mistake, you decided that there was no point in attempting to try again as the whole TARDIS continued to quiver.

You climbed to your feet, still wiping your eye, as you stormed out of your bedroom with half your sight blocked by your makeup wipe. You failed to see Loki walking down the corridor at the exact same time and with the help of the turbulence, Loki lost his balance and stumbled into you, sending you both crashing into the wall.

“Good morning.” You greeted Loki, almost sounding out of breath from the shock of your back impacting with the wall. His face was mere inches from yours, as you were trapped against the wall between both his arms, unlike the last time you found yourself in this position with the God, it was purely accidental this time.

From the proximity you realised that today a light citrusy and floral scent surrounded him and from what you could see, he was wearing a solid black suit with a matching shirt and tie. The outfit made him appear even more powerful and intimidating than he usually did and despite the fact you were meant to be trying to push away any desires you had towards the God, your mind was encouraging you to just lean forward those last few inches and close the gaps between your lips.

Before you could follow your own minds advice, Loki awkwardly cleared his throat as he took a step back away from you, while straightening out his suit jacket.

“Good morning.” He repeated.

You both continued your way towards the control room, occasionally bracing yourself against the walls whenever you felt as though you were about to lose balance.

“Did you have to pass a test to fly this thing?” You asked the Doctor, who was literally sprawled across the console, with his foot pushing a leaver, while his arm stretched out to the opposite side to turn a dial.

Donna was clinging onto the rail for dear life, while you and Loki attempted to reach her side without falling flat on your backsides.

“Yes, and I failed.” The Doctor distractedly answered.

“I can tell.” You replied, as the TARDIS jerked to an abrupt stop, you instinctively grabbed onto Loki’s arm to steady yourself and he put his own hand under your elbow to ensure you were stable.

Behind Loki’s shoulder you saw Donna watching you and the God closely, you could tell that she still didn’t trust Loki. Feeling conscious of her stare you mumbled a quick thanks towards Loki before you extended the distance between the two of you, while the Doctor ran to the doors of the TARDIS.

“Beyond this door lies a brave new world.” He announced with his back against the TARDIS doors, enthusiastic as ever.

“I’m up for anything, as long as there aren’t any volcano’s and none of us get possessed.” Donna seemed happily pleased.

“Oh Donna, the chances of that are low but never zero.” The Doctor cheekily smiled, before he turned on his heel causing the tail of his long brown trench coat to fan out behind him as he ran out the door. “Come on!”

When you stepped out of the TARDIS behind Donna, the first thing you noticed was that it was night but still humid, leading you to believe it was summertime and you noticed that you were surrounded by other humans which lead you to the conclusion that you were still on Earth.

The sound of horses hooves clicking against the cobblestone of the lively street, the attire of the people who occupied it and the medieval architecture of the buildings which aligned it all informed you that you had travelled backwards in time.

If you required further more indication, the foul waste which came pouring from the sky, barely missing you before Loki pulled you back, was the final confirmation you needed. You could hardly hold back the gag that threatened to rise at the back of your throat.

“We’ve arrived somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Good to know.” The Doctor commented.

“Listen, I’m all for time travel yeah, but that’s disgusting. I’m gonna nip to the loo on the TARDIS before we explore, I don’t wanna end up shitting in a bucket.” Donna announced before she retreated back inside the blue box, the door squeaked shut behind her.

“I always knew you were a primitive species but that is truly a testament to how far you have come in your short lives, it is positively awe-inspiring.” Loki remarked and you glanced at him with narrowed eyes, as you tried to decipher whether to be offended or take it as a compliment.

“So, this is London?” You eventually asked the Doctor, while you all waited for your auntie outside the TARDIS.

“Think so,” the Doctor let his eyes wander over the street, “round about, ooh... 1599. If I’m right, we’re just down the river, by Southwark, right next to the Globe Theatre, brand new, just opened! Though strictly speaking, it’s not a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, because of its 14 sides.”

“What’s that?” Donna asked, after stepping back outside the TARDIS, having caught just the end of the Doctors sentence.

“I was just saying, the Globe Theatre isn’t technically a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, it has 14 sides.” The Doctor repeated to Donna, who pulled a face.

“You’re always so pedantic,” Donna shook her head. “Why would they ever call it the Tetra-thingy Theatre?”

“Tetradecagon.” The Doctor corrected.

“See, pedantic.” Donna pointed out, and the Doctor looked insulted.

“As I was saying,” the Doctor returned to his original point while he glared at Donna, “the man himself should be there tonight.”

“Shakespeare?” Loki’s interest peaked.

“You know who Shakespeare is?” Your eyebrows lifted with surprise as you turned to Loki.

“Believe it or not, unlike everyone on Earth, we aren’t sheltered on Asgard. What can you tell me of the Nine Realms?” Loki paused to give you a chance to answer, but your lips remained sealed as your eyes bounced around in thought. “That’s what I thought.”

***

The Doctor had lead the way to the Globe Theatre and managed to sneak all four of you inside with the use a wallet, containing a blank piece of paper, which he had explained was called psychic paper. It allowed the person who looked upon it, to see whatever the Doctor presented it as, when he had said it was tickets to the performance you were let in without any bother.

Inside the theatre was filled to the brim, the four of you were cramped near the back of the stalls. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, unfortunately deodorant and other essential hygiene products weren’t invented yet but since you were stood by Loki’s side his delicious and fresh scent performed as a buffer over the foul odour and you found yourself almost snuggling into his chest as the play went on.

Once all the cast were bowing at the end of the performance, the crowd began chanting ‘author’ commanding that Shakespeare himself make an appearance on stage.

With his arms raised above his head and a flamboyant skip, William Shakespeare entered the stage and the cheers, whistles and applause grew even louder. He blew kisses toward the crowd, as he confidently walked back and forth across the stage, occasionally he leant down to brush the hands of the audience members below, who desperately reached out their arms in the hopes they might get to touch the renowned poet.

In the flesh, Shakespeare appeared to be a lot more attractive than any of his portraits ever suggested. He had a head full of wavy golden brown locks and a beard to match.

“He’s a bit different to his portraits.” You commented to no one in particular, as you continued to enthusiastically clap along with everyone else.

“Genius. He’s a genius. The genius, the most human human there’s ever been. And now we’re gonna hear him speak! Always, he chooses the best words, new beautiful, brilliant words...” The Doctor excitedly spoke.

“He is one of the finer Midgardian poets. I have read most of his work, he is truly gifted with his language.” Loki added.

“Shut ya big fat mouths!” Shakespeare merrily exclaimed to his audience, who erupted into laughter, while the Doctors and Loki’s faces fell with disappointment and they halted their applause.

“Oh Gods, he sounds just like my brother after one too many.” Loki realised with alarm.

“I know what you’re all saying, Love’s Labours Lost, that’s a funny ending, isn’t it? It just stops!” Shakespeare clicked his fingers to put emphasis on the abrupt ending. “Will the boys get the girls? Well, don’t get your hose in a tangle, you’ll find out soon.”

“When?” The audience eagerly chanted.

“All in good time, you don’t rush a genius.” The poet lowered himself into an elegant bow before he abruptly shot back up again.

“When?” Shakespeare repeated his audiences question. “Tomorrow night!”

The theatre erupted into raucous applause.

“The premier of my brand new play! A sequel, no less! And I call it Love’s Labours Won!” You and Donna continued clapping, oblivious to the suspicious glance the Doctor and Loki shared with one another over your heads.

***

“I can’t say I have ever heard of Love’s Labours Won.” Donna announced, as you were exiting the theatre, still huddled in a large crowd.

“Me neither, is it one of his more obscure works?” You looked over your shoulder to inquire with the Doctor, who easily stood a whole head and shoulders above the crowd surrounding you, as did Loki, who was walking beside you.

“Well, the thing is, it doesn’t exist, only in rumours. It’s mentioned lists of his plays, but never, ever turns up and no one knows why.” The Doctor explained, adding a tone of mystery to his voice as he quirked his expressive eyebrows.

Your interest peaked almost instantly, you noticed Donna’s had too as you both shared an inquisitive look, eager to discover more about this missing play.

“But how did it disappear in the first place?” Donna asked.

“Well... I suppose we could stay a bit longer and find out.” The Doctor suggested, to which you and Donna shared excited smiles.

***

You collectively made the decision to spend the night in one of the inns, to not only get the full experience but the Doctor knew of which one Shakespeare occupied, this allowed him the opportunity to keep a vigilant eye on the poet, in the hopes of discovering what caused the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

“Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?” The Doctor asked as he knocked on the side of the doorway, “Mr Shakespeare, isn’t it?”

You followed into the room behind the Doctor with Loki close behind you and Donna entering last, to find the famous writer lounging at a desk as he drank from a tin cup, with two of the actors from his play sat in front of him.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, who let you in?” Shakespeare pinched the bridge of his nose. “No autographs. You can’t be sketched with me and please don’t ask where I get my ideas. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove...”

Shakespeare finally removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and raised his hand into a shoo motion, but as he lifted his eyes to look at the Doctor they instead landed on you and his words died on his tongue.

“Hey nonny, nonny,” the playwright addressed you, as he suddenly sat up straight and gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit right down here next to me.”

Your eyes slightly widened at the interest Shakespeare displayed in you, while behind you no one noticed the way Loki had begun looking upon the poet with a shadow cast over his eyes. The innkeeper entered the room and placed her hands on the shoulders of the two actors, who were sat before Shakespeare.

“Come on, lads, I think our William’s found his new muse.” She encouraged them to make themselves scarce, while Shakespeare rose from his seat.

“Sweet lady,” he continued to address you as he beckoned you over to the chair one of the actors previously occupied, you politely smiled at him as you lowered yourself into the chair and he sank back into his own.

The Doctor sat down in the chair beside you and Donna sat on his other side, so he was sandwiched between the two of you, while Loki lingered in the back, where no one could notice the way his gaze menacingly lingered on Shakespeare.

“I’m Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions,” the Doctor listed off your names, as he held up his wallet containing the psychic paper, which he had used to enter the Globe Theatre with, in front of William.

“Interesting. That bit of paper, it’s blank.” Shakespeare pointed out, it appeared he was immune to the papers psychic powers.

“Oh, that’s... very clever.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he let his hand holding the wallet fall limp. “That proves it. Absolute genius.”

“Who are you, exactly?” William rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward as propped his cheek upon his fist, while he returned his attention to you. “More to the point who is your delicious lady?”

Donna raised her eyebrows as she looked between you and the poet. “She’s my niece.” Your auntie stated, capturing the writers attention.

“Your niece is very captivating.” Shakespeare informed your auntie.

“And you’re very married.” Donna countered, clearly disapproving of his flirtatious manner towards you.

Near the back of the room, Loki’s lips lifted in a proud smile as he watched Donna shut down Shakespeare.

“Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!” A large, heavy and bearded man, wearing a pleated collar, black robes and an elaborate gold necklace which rested over his shoulders, invited himself into the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“This is absolutely abominable behaviour, a new play, with no warning! I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me, before it can be performed!” He lectured the playwright, who stroked his beard in an idle manner.

“Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’ll send it round.” The experienced writer calmly answered.

“I don’t work to your schedule, you work to mine! The script, now!” The man demanded.

“I can’t!” Shakespeare finally raised his voice.

“Then tomorrow’s performance is cancelled. Love’s Labours Won will never be played.” The man concluded, before showing himself out the room.

“I guess that answers our questions about Love’s Labours Won. I thought it was going to be a bit more exciting than that. It usually is with you, Doctor.” Donna sighed disappointedly.

Almost as if on cue, the shrill sound of a woman’s scream was heard from the street outside and you all stood to attention.

“Sounds like I spoke to soon.” Donna remarked, before the Doctor sprung from his chair and dashed out the room with the rest of you following on his tail, including Shakespeare.

Once you were all out on the street, you saw the man who had declared the cancellation of Love’s Labours Won, stumbling around and clutching at his neck as he repeatedly threw up what appeared to be water.

“Leave it to me, I’m a doctor.” The Doctor announced, as he rushed to the man’s aid, although he barely reached him before the man collapsed to the floor with a choked groan of pain, as water continued to pour out his mouth.

The man lay motionless on the straw covered cobblestone street and it appeared to be too late for the Doctor to do anything as he checked his pulse with a grim expression.

The Doctor stood to his feet to address the innkeeper, who had come out to witness the commotion.

“Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable, have him taken away.” The Doctor instructed her, before he crouched back down by the body.

You followed Donna as she joined the Doctors side, you knelt on the opposite side of the body across from Donna and the Doctor and Loki settled beside you.

“What actually happened to him?” Donna whispered to the Doctor, understanding that what he had told the innkeeper was a lie.

“If I’m not mistaken, it looks like witchcraft.” The Doctor suspected, his tone deadly serious.

“Before anyone points their finger at me, I’m not a witch. I’m a sorcerer, there is a difference.” Loki proclaimed his innocence.

“No one is blaming you.” You assured him.

“I’m usually the first suspect when something goes wrong.” Loki explained, with a small laugh to keep it light but you still frowned, imagining how frustrating it must be to constantly be seen as the black sheep.

***

You all solemnly returned to the inn, the unexpected death of the man who had wanted to cancel Love’s Labours Won, had inspired the Doctor to stay in order to get to the bottom of it.

The innkeeper had accommodated the four of you with the last two unoccupied rooms of the inn, however almost looked ready to kick you all out onto the streets when Donna had suggested the Doctor and Loki take one room, while she and you take the other.

“Two men will not lie together under my roof.” She muttered ever so quietly, as if it were far too scandalous to be said out loud.

“The dark ages.” The Doctor sighed, while he dragged his palm down his face. “Miss Noble likes to jest,” he assured the innkeeper, who eyed the four of you suspiciously before reluctantly leaving.

“I broke that rule a long time ago.” Shakespeare spoke through a chuckle.

“Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” The Doctor muttered to himself, causing you to let out a small snort of laughter.

***

Due to the innkeepers rules surrounding sleeping arrangements, this resulted in the Doctor and Donna sharing one room, while you and Loki shared the other, the rooms were situated on opposite sides of the inn.

You and Loki stared at the double bed, both wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Inside your mind you were freaking out, but you didn’t let it show on your exterior, you were meant to be trying to forget these thoughts about Loki which occupied your mind, sharing a bed with him for the night would only make it worse.

The God wordless walked further into the room, the floor loudly creaked beneath each step he took, as did the mattress once he lowered himself onto it in a sitting position, with his back turned to you.

He removed his tie and hung it around the post at the bottom of the bed, followed by his suit jacket and then his shoes, your heartbeat was rising with every item of clothing he removed wondering how much further he would go, but luckily he stopped there rested back onto the bed, with his pillows propped against the headboard.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Loki casually commented, noticing you hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room.

You swallowed and softly moved towards the bed, noticing the floor boards didn’t creak as loudly beneath your feet and once you sat on your side of the bed, with your back turned to Loki, you copied his previous movements and began removing your shoes.

“Shakespeare seems fond of you.” Loki remarked, as he picked at some loose thread on the blanket beneath him and you paused your actions. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could sense a certain edge to his voice that made you believe that he wasn’t only making casual conversation.

“Those are words I never imagined would be said towards me.” You lightly chuckled, as you resumed your movements, before you slowly shuffled up the bed to lie beside Loki.

“It must feel nice to capture the attention of such a renowned figure of your realm.” Loki continued, and you wished instead that you could’ve captured the God’s attention in the same way.

“I suppose,” you shrugged, despite the fact that you could admit the man was far more attractive in person than he is depicted in any of his portraits, his attempts at flirting with you hadn’t so much made you swoon but rather made you feel awkward.

“He reminds me of my brother, you would like him.” Loki told you. “The same golden hair, the same confidence-”

“He’s not really my type.” You quickly admitted, causing Loki to pause for a moment.

Without looking you could tell Loki had turned on his side towards you, as you felt the uncomfortable mattress shift beneath your back. He had propped his head up on his elbow, while his other arm rested on the dip of his waist.

“What would you describe ‘your type’ as?” Loki curiously inquired.

You. You answered in your mind, while your lips remained sealed as you pretend to be giving it some thought while you focused on nervously fidgeting with your fingers over your stomach.

Eventually you lifted your eyes to Loki, his were already unapologetically focused on you. As you silently watched him from under your lashes, you willed him to read your mind from your stare alone and from the way his eyes darted over your face, you could tell he was trying.

The candlelight which luminated the room, cause his eyelashes to cast shadows over his defined cheeks when his gaze paused on your lips for a moment too long, he drew his own lips inward to moisten them as his eyes slowly rose back to yours.

You leaned towards him, ever so slightly and nervously swallowed as he moved the hand he was using to support his head, to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. His other arm made the mattress dip beside your waist, as he used it to support his weight as he leaned his upper body over you.

His long hair fell untidily around his face and you hesitantly reached out your own hand to tuck one side of it behind his ear, surprised by how silky it felt against your fingertips. You let your palm cradle his sharp jaw as he slowly lowered his own face towards yours and both your eyelids fell shut as you waited to feel the sensation of the others lips moving against your own, but just as you felt his warm breath fan against your skin, an ear piercing scream caused you to shoot up with alarm and your forehead to smack against Loki’s.

“Fuck!” You both cried in unison as you cradled your throbbing foreheads in your palms. The sound of loud footsteps running past your door from the hallway outside, reminded you of what caused you to startle in the first place and you quickly jumped from your bed, ignoring the way the pain in your head protested against it and rushed after the sound of the footsteps down the stairs.

“She died of fright.” You heard the Doctor conclude, as you turned through the doorway to the study Shakespeare was working in, to find the time lord leaning over the innkeeper’s dead body. Your auntie was stood at the open window, as if searching for something, and Shakespeare looked dazed as he sat at his desk with confusion written all over his face.

“I don’t like how this is turning into the plot of Clue.” You commented, before you jumped when you heard footsteps behind you, only to relax when you saw they belonged to Loki.

“Doctor!” Donna called from the window, and he immediately rushed over to catch what she was looking at but unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t quick enough.

“What did you see?”

“A witch.” Your auntie answered, as if she could hardly believe herself.

***

During the early hours of the morning, the innkeepers body had been removed by a coroner and the Doctor had stayed up until the crack of dawn began to peak through the inn’s windows, trying to figure out how the sudden deaths and the witchcraft all linked to the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

You and Loki provided little help, hardly listening to the Doctor as he voiced his thoughts loud. You were both to occupied with distracting one other, as you kept glancing at each other from across the room, the tension between the both of you had been building ever since your chance to share a kiss was stolen away from you.

Looking around the room, you could see everyone was caught up with trying to come up with explanations for what was happening and you realised you could probably slip out the room without anyone noticing or at least not paying it much attention.

Giving Loki a look which made a crease form between his eyebrows you rose from your chair and quietly made your way towards the door leading to the hallway, you paused once more under the arch of the doorway and gave Loki another look, which caused his eyebrows to rise with understanding, before you disappeared into the hallway.

You walked up the stairs and entered the room you and Loki were sharing, hoping he would figure out where to find you, you sat on the bottom of the bed as you waited.

It wasn’t long until you heard footsteps approaching the room, no one could ever hope to move around quietly on the floorboards of the inn. The doorway to your room was lower than the others, which meant when Loki walked through it he had to duck his head. After he gently shut the door behind him, he turned and paused with his back to the door, you were looking at him, from where you sat on the bed, with a wide smile as giggles threatened to rise from your stomach at the secrecy of it all.

“I was meant to follow after you, right?” Loki checked, as he walked further into the room.

You nodded as you rose to your feet and met him halfway.

“I’ve never done this before,” Loki bashfully admitted, as he looked down. “Sneak away with someone in secret, I mean.”

“You never had anyone to sneak away with in that big old palace on Asgard?” You asked, putting little effort into hiding your surprise. “I assume you lived in a palace, I don’t actually know…”

“Yes, I grew up in a palace,” Loki chuckled, “and no, there was no one to sneak away with in it, that was more Thor’s arena.”

“I’ve never done this either,” you confessed, “I had visions of myself waiting here and you not showing up because I didn’t make myself clear enough and then having to return to the room pretending I just took a piss in a bucket.”

Loki’s laughter grew louder and his smile wider, as crinkles appeared at the side of his eyes which lit up his entire face, you decided you would like to see this expression on him more.

You reached your hand up to his face and gently rested your palm against his cheek and in return you felt his large hands engulf your hips as they gently pulled you closer. Your other hand rose to his shoulder and brushed along it until you curled your fingers around the back of his neck to slowly pull his face towards yours.

This time you felt his lips mould against yours without any interruptions, his right hand left your hip to brush up to the small of your back, the back of your shirt slightly rode up with his hand, and he pulled you closer so your chests were flush, while your whole arm snaked around the back of his neck and you felt the tips of his soft hair tickle against your bare forearm.

Blindly Loki guided you towards the bed, never lifting his lips from yours for one second. Once he felt the back of his calves hit the bed frame, he let himself fall onto the mattress, it let out a squeak as did you, and you giggled against his mouth as you made yourself comfortable in his lap with your legs resting on either side of his hips.

His hands moved to hold you firmly around your waist as your palms rested on both his shoulders. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, and turned your head away to let out a yawn, exhausted from staying up until dawn.

“I’m that boring, huh?” Loki joked, as his hands soothed up and down the sides of your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” you hummed, as you gave him a small peck, “I guess my lack of sleep finally caught up with me.”

“You should rest,” Loki suggested, as he attached his lips to the column of your neck to leave feather light kisses, you let out a throaty groan in response as the tips of your fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked with closed eyes, as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you felt his hand climb up your spine, before his fingers buried themselves into your hair as he cradled the back of your head. “I know you don’t need as much sleep as humans do, but will you stay with me while I do?”

Loki lifted his head from your neck to look at you, while his fingers which were buried in your hair, gently massaged over your scalp which sent a calming sensation running straight down your spine, relaxing you even further and making your eyelids heavier.

You couldn’t see it on his face, but Loki was shocked by the fact you trusted him enough to wish to sleep beside him. His lips parted ever so slightly, as he stared up at you through his lashes with wide eyes full of wonder. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded, which caused you to tiredly smile and give him another small kiss as thanks.

As you both moved up the bed, the mattress creaked and squeaked beneath you. Loki rested on his back and you crawled up to him and rested your head on his chest, you could feel it softly rise and fall and you could hear his heartbeat while his calming sent surrounded you, and they all worked together to help lull you off into a peaceful sleep.

Before you drifted off, you felt Loki’s arm curl around your shoulders while the tips of his fingers softly brushed against your arm, causing goosebumps to rise where they travelled.

Loki planted a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his own eyes fall shut, deciding to give sleep a try even though he wasn’t feeling particularly tired.

***

You were abruptly woken up by the sounds of screams and lightening coming from the street outside your room. Due to the fact none of the candles were lit, it was filled with darkness, the only thing luminating the room was an unsettling red glow, which shone through the windows of the inn. You shot up immediately and discovered Loki had fallen asleep, kneeling on the mattress beside him you put your hand on his shoulder and shook him awake.

“What is it?” His voice sounded croaky from his sleep, he soon heard the screams and noticed the sinister red glow of the room, he jumped from the bed and rushed to the window and you followed after him, your jaw dropped and your hand came up to your mouth at what you saw.

From your second story window of the inn, you had a perfect view of the Globe Theatre and right now storm clouds and lightening swirled around it, while luminous crimson smoke rose from the centre. On the streets below groups of people desperately rushed away from the theatre crying and screaming.

“Donna and the Doctor are probably already at the theatre, we have to go!” You rushed back to the bed to pull on your shoes and Loki did the same.

Once you were both ready, you ran out of the inn and into the chaos on the street. Loki took your hand in his as you both began running towards the Globe Theatre, so you wouldn’t get separated by the large crowds running against you.

When you reached the theatre, you saw the stage door was slightly ajar and ran straight towards it, pulling Loki along with you.

As soon as you reached the stage, and saw your auntie, the Doctor and Shakespeare all stood on it, you dropped Loki’s hand. You missed the way the God’s brows formed a crease while he looked down at your hand, as you were too distracted by the terrifying sight before you.

Your hair blew around your face wildly, as in the centre of the theatre there was what only could be described as a hurricane of scarlet mist and lightning bolts and dark horrifying figures flew around inside the swirling phenomenon.

“Donna!” You called, as you rushed to her side.

She called your name when she turned over her shoulder and saw you and pulled you towards her.

“What’s going on?” You yelled above the commotion, Loki stood closely beside you and listened to the conversation.

“They want to end the world, take over and build their new empire.” Donna explained with tears in her eyes, “we’re too late, there’s nothing we can do.”

Your lips fell slack and you looked back towards the swirling flaming red mist with terror, realising it was a portal, to unleash evil upon the world.

You looked up at Loki, his long black hair waved around his face from the gusts caused by the portal, he was staring at it with a thoughtful expression before his eyes locked with yours and he saw the fear in them.

With a determined look, Loki walked towards the edge of the stage, you noticed the luminous emerald mist already starting to form in his palms before he lifted them towards the centre of the theatre. His right foot came backwards, to support his weight, as his magic pushed against him but he leaned his upper body into it.

With one hand he focused his magic on the centre of the theatre, before he moved the other to direct a burst of magic towards the royal box, your eyes followed the green mist and widened when you saw three witches who you hadn’t noticed before. With his magic focusing on the witches who were the source of the power, the portal began to deteriorate and was easily engulfed by Loki’s magic.

The God raised both his arms into the air, and a green surge of light shot into the night sky, taking the portal with it, the force caused the doors behind the stage to fly open and hundreds of loose pages flew into the air and with a resounding boom everything vanished, the only evidence left behind was a faint green mist which slowly began to dissipate. Even the three witches who had been sat in the royal box were gone, the only thing left behind was a crystal ball which sat on the edge of the balcony.

The remaining members of the audience, who hadn’t managed to escape, began to slowly clap until they erupted into enthusiastic cheers and applause.

From the side of the stage, you watched Loki glance around at the audience, as he momentarily appeared to be caught off guard but he quickly regained his composure and lowered himself into an elegant bow with both his arms spread wide and the audience began applauding him even louder.

Shakespeare appeared by your side and took your hand in his, your other hand was already holding Donna’s and he guided you both to the edge of the stage, beside Loki and the three of you bowed in unison, however the entire time your eyes were locked on Loki as he stared at your hand which was held in the poets, and that dangerous shadow cast over his eyes again as his jaw clenched.

***

Loki had avoided you for the rest of the night. When you all returned to the inn, due to the fact most of the guests had fled the town in fright when the portal opened, there were suddenly a lot more rooms going spare. Loki had vanished to one of the rooms without a word, despite the fact everyone was trying to bestow him with gratitude and praise for literally saving the world, he ignored it all.

You had stayed in the common room, with Donna, the Doctor and Shakespeare as they explained everything that had happened. The witches in the royal box had possessed Shakespeare last night as he was writing the end of Love’s Labours Won and wrote a spell into the script, the innkeeper must have witnessed this and died from the fright. They had killed the man who had tried to cancel the play as they needed it to be performed and for the actor to read the spell out loud on stage to open the portal, which would’ve allowed millions of their kind to travel through and invade Earth, the Doctor had called them the Carrionites.

The entire time you couldn’t keep Loki off your mind, the look on his face when he saw your hand in Shakespeare’s, kept appearing behind your eyes, making your heart sink deeper each time. As soon as Donna and the Doctor had finished explaining everything to you, you excused yourself and headed upstairs to the rooms and stopped in front of the door which you had seen Loki disappear behind.

“Loki?” You softly knocked on the door, but there came no response. You tried the handle, but it was firmly locked.

“Can we talk?” You tried again, and you waited, but still nothing.

You rested your forehead against the door in defeat and sighed.

“Goodnight, Loki.” You whispered before you retreated to your room.

***

The next morning the Doctor had decided to return to the theatre to see if he could help Shakespeare salvage any parts of Love’s Labours Won, but it seemed as though all traces of it vanished when Loki destroyed the portal, finally solving your mystery of how it disappeared.

Loki still hadn’t emerged from his room, even when you had knocked on his door to inform him that you were all heading to the theatre and then from there you would be returning to the TARDIS.

You were beginning to feel incredibly worried about him while you sat on a wooden box on the stage of the Globe Theatre as your concerns raced through your mind.

“What troubles you?” You startled, since you had been too distracted by your worries to even notice that Shakespeare had taken a seat beside you on the box.

You contemplated whether or not you should actually tell the poet what was troubling you or if you should dismiss him, you realised that you couldn’t really voice your worries to Donna or the Doctor since neither of them knew about what happened between you and Loki yet. At least with Shakespeare he would be out of your life for good within the hour, so you decided you could share it with him.

“It’s Loki,” you sighed sadly, “he has been avoiding me.”

You suddenly felt the weight of his hand on your lower back, as he pulled you closer and you stiffened.

“If Loki won’t give you his attention. Why not entertain a man who will?” Shakespeare proposed, before he began leaning his face towards yours.

Your eyes widened and you immediately brought your hands to his chest to push him away.

“It seems I arrived at the wrong time.” As soon as you heard Loki’s familiar deep voice, your heart plummeted in your chest.

“Loki,” you looked over your shoulder at him, guilt already filling your eyes, despite the fact you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You weren’t going to kiss Shakespeare, you had been milliseconds away from pushing him off the box.

You rose to your feet and tried to walk towards Loki but he took a step backwards to maintain the distance and you got the hint.

“Good props store, back there!” The Doctor caught your attention, you turned and saw him and Donna returning to the stage, dressed in various different props and costume pieces.

“Not sure about this, though.” He held up what appeared to be a large animals skull in his left hand, you couldn’t depict what it was, but it looked ghastly. “Reminds me of a Sycorax.”

“Sycorax.” Shakespeare repeated. “Nice word. I’ll have that one off you as well.”

“I should be on 10%.” The Doctor muttered.

“Mobius.” You heard Loki gasp from behind you, and your attention turned to his line of sight, to find a fair haired man, with a moustache and wearing a plain brown suit enter the theatre by one of the stalls entrances, followed by a group of armed officers. You instantly recognised him as the man Loki had been hiding from in Pompeii.

“It’s nice to finally see you again, Loki.” The man spoke, sounding like an old friend, but there was definitely something far more sinister hiding in his tone.

By now the exchange had captured everyone’s attention, as you all glanced between Loki and the new stranger Loki had addressed as Mobius.

“How did you find me?” Loki asked, as he stepped towards the edge of the stage.

“It wasn’t too hard, we’ve been tracking seismic activities of your magic. You lead us right to you.” Mobius smiled, it seemed that composed smile never left his face. From how uneasy Loki appeared, you decided you disliked him already.

“I’d just like to know, who would be idiotic enough to give you, of all people, free rein through all of time and space.” Mobius asked Loki, who had parted his lips to answer but before he could, the Doctor stepped up to the edge of the stage beside him.

“That would be me.” The Doctor announced, still dressed in all the props he had found back stage, including a pleated collar and an oversized beret while he still held the disturbing animal skull, he looked quite the spectacle.

Mobius was speechless for a moment, as his eyes dragged up and down the Doctor’s tall form.

“He’s a time lord.” Loki proudly lifted his head, as one might just before they lay down their cards to reveal a winning hand.

Mobius smile finally dropped, and you couldn’t help the smirk that lifted at the corner of your lips, proud to see Loki have an advantage.

“Impossible. They’re all gone.” Mobius tried to hide any traces of confusion from his face and tone and instead feigned confidence in his statement.

“All except me.” The Doctor explained, and you practically saw the realisation hit Mobius at full force.

“You’re...” The words died on Mobius’ tongue, before his eyes filled with horror.

“I’m beginning to get the feeling that they don’t honour me as much as they do the other time lords.” The Doctor whispered to Loki, who was now frowning.

Mobius commanded something you couldn’t hear to the armed officers around him and they raised their weapons.

“I think that is our cue to run.” The Doctor decided as he slowly began backing away, he threw the animals skull at Shakespeare, who quickly caught it, then took Donna’s hand in his own as he rushed past her and lead her out the stage door with you and Loki following closely behind him.

You followed the trail of the Doctors long brown trench coat, through the busy streets, glad that he seemed to memorise the way to the TARDIS because you had no idea, while you had flashbacks of running for your life through Pompeii, except this time you were running from the exact same thing Loki had been.

Once the familiar blue box caught your eye, your legs began carrying you even quicker as you made your final sprint towards it. The Doctor was already at the door, holding it open, you made it in first and then Loki closely after you.

The Doctor wasted no time and immediately rushed to the controls to get the TARDIS out of there as soon as possible, while you leant over the rail, as you tried to catch your breath. You felt the sharp pain of a stitch in your side and brought the tips of your fingers up to your abdomen and dug them into your skin where you felt the pain, in an attempt to ease it.

Just as the familiar tremors and the sound of the engine wheezing filled the control room, an outside force caused the ship to jerk harshly and sent you crashing to the floor.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath, as pain shot through your hip from the impact of hitting the hard floor.

Glancing around it seemed everyone else had managed to maintain their balance, the Doctor was still frantically working at the controls, Donna was glancing at you with concern from the other side of the control room and Loki looked lost in thought while he held on tight to the rail.

Eventually the tremors subsided and the TARDIS settled into a tranquil state and the Doctor collapsed into the seats with his feet rested up against the ships console, looking exhausted as he finally pulled the pleated collar from off his neck with a heavy sigh.

“Well… now we’re all on the run from the Time Variance Authority.” The time lord concluded.

#loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki imagine #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #donna noble #tom hiddleston

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