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quixoticism · 1 year

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Disney’s Andor terrifies me.

The Disney+ TV show Andor was announced at the end of 2020. My immediate thoughts were that it was probably going to be pretty good, since Rogue One was pretty good (I’m the only person in my friend group who didn’t pan on it immediately). I found Mandalorian seasons one and two to be overrated and boring, and after Rise of Skywalker lost all interest in Star Wars.

I didn’t watch any of the trailers for Andor, went in to it totally tabula rasa, really only watching it on a whim because I had an hour and a half to kill with a friend and, hey, it might be alright.

I instantly fell in love with the darker tone, slow pace, politics, cyberpunk aesthetics, and semi-realistic portrayal of insurgency. I’ve always had an interest in conflict studies and combat psychology, and what I saw met with my approval. From the very first scene where the titular protagonist enters what is addressed in dialogue to be a brothel demanding to see a specific woman, I knew this show would pull no punches. Seeing Syril Karn, who me and my friend immediately dubbed “Javert,” repeatedly being shown to be a pathetic fascist cop enticed my personal political leanings. Dedra Meero, an ISB agent, instead of being shown to be a girlboss, was instead used to show an insight into how the fascist mindset and ideology actually works in it’s “apolitical” adherents by creating an atmosphere and social structure that incentivizes brutality and ruthlessness. When Luthen Rael, portrayed by Stellan Skarsgard, revealed himself to be an accelerationist, I stood up and clapped.

After seeing the first three episodes in one setting I immediately went online to see the critical reception. Basically the only consistent criticism of Andor from mainstream mouthpieces is that it is slow-paced. I consider anyone who thinks Andor to be slow-paced to have seen one too many Marvel movies.

Episode 6, “The Eye,” I literally watched three times on the day it released and once the day after. In it, our protagonists carry out an insider attack, which for those unfamiliar with both Andor and modern warfare is a type of assymetrical tactic in which insurgents pretend to be members of the occupying force in order to carry out an attack from the inside. I hooted and hollered, my war nerd brain making all sorts of happy chemicals. When my friend’s favorite character, Nemik, was killed in an accident, I thought it was an admirable commitment to the gritty realism. In the gunfight preceding it, cover is used, as is cover-fire, real fireteam tactics. They’re not perfect, of course, but somebody involved in the fight choreography had at least read a book or watched some videos of actual firefights.

In the third 3-episode arc, the main plot is Cassian and Kino Loy (played by Andy Serkis; again, hooting and hollering) attempting to escape from a prison-factory. The use of inter- and intra-shop competition to increase productivity was a tactic used by Nazi Germany in it’s prison-factories, the use of electrical punishment and torture, forced posture-holding, and deprivation of shoes mimics American abuses of prisoners at Abu Ghraib. Again, I found this commitment to realism admirable. I should’ve been scared of it.

At episode 10, “One Way Out,” I figured Andor out for the far-more sinister ideological tool that it is. The episode features prisoners outwitting and killing their jailers to escape. We are understood by the text to sympathize with the prisoners, their crimes are never mentioned, we are led to believe their current treatment is far worse than any crime they could’ve committed. Compare this to the real-world reporting on any prison riot and you’ll see a stark difference. To draw a more tenuous line, compare it to fears of a “crime wave” that dominate mainstream US reporting (for those not in the know, crime in general in the the United States it as at an all-time low. Violent crime is increasing but when you add all crime together, crime rates are very low.) The audience is meant to, and overwhelmingly does, support actions in the text that they find reprehensible in real life.

Andor contains no last-minute recants of radicalism, no incongruous interpersonal evil that overshadows the radical commitments of our protagonists. The final episode, “Rix Road” features a riot. Men throw themselves against riot police and are beaten by them and we’re meant to sympathize with the rioters. As part of the build-up to the riot (and this is where Andor genuinely shines, the buildup and tension make the scarce action and payoff extremely enjoyable) we see a young man, whose father was killed by the government, build a bomb and throw it into a crowd of soldiers. Secondary cookoff explosions (another tinge of the realism I find intoxicating,) kill secondary characters, including a police informant. This terrorist attack (and the one I had just forgotten until now in episode 3, where Andor and Rael blow up police officers with a VBIED) we are meant to sympathize with. When the police open fire into the crowd, we are meant to condemn them. When a soldier is thrown from a tower to his death, it isn’t a comical beat.

There are many similar beats throughout Andor. Cassian Andor is played by Diego Luna, a Mexican actor, and speaks with a vague sci-fi Latin accent. He is racially profiled by police and unjustly arrested and sentenced to prison. We see that his adoptive father, played by a black man, was hanged in the town square by soldiers. It is alluded to that the Empire carried out a genocide on the indigenous nation to which Cassian was born. Anti-indigeneity is repeatedly shown to be a trait of the villains. Riot police beat innocent people with truncheons. The ways in which we are textually shown the Empire to be evil is by the text comparing it to the United States of America.

This is terrifying. The protagonists are overthrowing their government, a government textually extremely similar to the current regime in the United States, and we are meant to sympathize with them. And Andor is on Disney fucking plus. Disney is the goddamn safest corporation. They don’t do anything unless the algorithms show it’ll return them a profit. And Andor probably has turned a profit (streaming, unlike TV, does not have published viewership counts, so we’ll never know for sure.) I have friends whose careers, bodies, mental health, and finances were destroyed by the 2020 uprising. People I know in real life have been arrested, beaten, and shot at for doing what Disney is making gobs of money for showing for the same reason.

That uprising, that cultural moment, anti-american sentiment, and anti-prison sentiment, is being packaged back up and sold to us. The revolution is a commodity. Disney, the largest entertainment company in human history, can make a movie about why you should overthrow your government without actually impacting the chances of it being overthrown.

#star wars #andor

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snezfics-n-shit · 2 years

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Sicktember Day 8: Intense Coddling

Fandom: Ace Attorney Characters: Raymond Shields, Gregory Edgeworth

Notes: Raymond has always been aware of Gregory��s paternal instincts since the day he started working at Edgeworth Law Offices. For the most part, it’s not so bad, but when Gregory stops by after learning Ray has called in sick, it might just be the first time he needs some room to breathe. (Also this was actually really hard to find balance because I thought it was a cute concept but I don't think it would be in character for really any character to get into the "Intense" part, so I didn't have Gregory go too overboard, just a little too wrapped up in his paternal instincts. Just enough for a 'hey man you can relax a lil bit' ya know?)

Raymond wasn’t sure how he survived his only class for the day. The congestion in his head made it nearly impossible to absorb whatever his professor was saying; he didn’t even feel up to eating the notes he had taken (after he returned home, of course, he wasn’t going to have anyone staring at him with his strange habits and destroy what little of a social life on campus he had) which meant he definitely was in no shape to stop by Mr. Edgeworth’s office. Not even Coldkiller X was doing a good enough job, after all the good he had to say about it during the investigation for Mr. Master’s case. How could he face Mr. Edgeworth knowing the good words he put in were all proven false?

And so, he bit the bullet and called in sick, ready to spend the rest of the day watching TV on the couch. Since Piece Of Cake wasn’t airing anything new, at least until Mr. Master would surely be proven Not Guilty in the trial in December, Raymond wondered if it was worth a shot trying out that Signal Samurai show Mr. Edgeworth asked him about a few weeks ago. He seemed pretty excited about it and how much his son liked it; it must be pretty good if the kid he remembered only watching whatever adults were watching liked it so much.

Raymond channel surfed for a good five minutes without a single appearance of anything resembling a signal nor samurai. He groaned and just gave up on this search, opting to just fall asleep instead of pushing himself any further, that is, until there was a knock on the door that forced him to get up and answer.

“Mr. Edgeworth?” Raymond managed to croak out something close to a greeting. He blinked, unsure if he was dreaming. “What are you doing here?”

“You called in sick for the first time in, well, as long as you’ve been my assistant.” Gregory explained. A look of concern made itself at home on his face. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better.” Raymond shrugged.

“Hmm…” Purely instinctively, Gregory felt Raymond’s forehead. “You're pretty warm, Raymond. Why don't you get yourself into bed and I'll make you some tea."

Raymond was rather surprised that Mr. Edgeworth was so quick to make such a generous offer, but it didn’t strike him as uncharacteristic of Gregory. After all, he always made sure Raymond was well-fed whenever he showed up at the Edgeworth residence (usually uninvited, but Mr. Edgeworth never seemed too bothered by that). Raymond quietly made his way to his bed, and while there was no TV or anything particularly entertaining for his easily-bored college student brain in his room, he had no complaints as long as Mr. Edgeworth was around.

It wasn’t long before Gregory stopped by Raymond’s room, too early for the tea to be even close to ready.

“Just checking in!” Gregory announced with a smile. “Have you eaten anything?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t really been hungry.”

“Hmm,” Gregory frowned, “even if you don’t have an appetite, you still need to keep your strength up.”

Raymond couldn’t even object before Gregory left. Always on top of things, wasn’t he? Raymond sighed and tried his hardest to prepare himself for whatever Gregory intended to cook for him, even if he wasn’t hungry, it still wouldn’t be very polite to reject his mentor’s cooking.

He closed his eyes for what felt like a half hour, but was really less than ten minutes. Mr. Edgeworth was setting a steaming cup of tea carefully on a coaster that wasn’t on the bedside table this morning.

“Here. There’s honey in it, for your throat, and I let it cool so it won’t burn your tongue.” Gregory smiled, proud of his efforts. “The soup is cooling right now, too. It’s a recipe an old friend of mine taught me.”

"Thanks, Mr. Edgeworth." Raymond sat upright and took a sip of the tea; it didn't burn his tongue at all, just as Gregory said. “Are you sure you want to hang around here? I’d hate to hold you back from anything important.”

“What do you mean? The office is dead quiet, and Miles is still at school for another couple of hours.”

“Huh,” Raymond thought the office was a lot more exciting before his shifts there, always with something he felt like he was missing out on. Slow day, he guessed.

“Can I get you anything else? That medicine you like so much, maybe?”

“I already took some.” Raymond took another sip, pondering what would make this tea help him better than the pills he took earlier. Maybe a mentor’s tea was like a grandma’s cookies? He then wondered if Mr. Edgeworth knew how to bake cookies, and soon found himself spaced out as he continued drinking the tea.

He might have never realized when the mug became empty if it wasn’t for Gregory’s proud announcement that the soup was ready. Where did he get that tray from?

“Here you go. I got you a smaller serving to start with, but there’s plenty more left.” Gregory placed the tray carefully over Raymond’s lap.

“Wow, thanks!”

The soup looked amazing, and with just one spoonful, Raymond knew it tasted just as good as it looked. He couldn’t help but be quick to eat more.

“Woah, woah! Careful there. You’ll make yourself sick.” Gregory warned.

“I mean, I already am, aren’t I?”

“Well, you’ll feel worse if you make your stomach hurt– oh, hold on.” Gregory had that look of instinct again and wiped Raymond’s cheek with a napkin, thinking nothing of it while Raymond had a growing expression of embarrassment.

“Mr. Edgeworth, um, I really appreciate you doing this for me, but…” Raymond hesitated, not wanting to hurt any feelings. “Maybe you could tone down, you know, um, that?”

“‘That…?’” It took Gregory a while to process what Raymond meant before he looked equally as embarrassed. After nearly a decade of being a father, and a single one at that, paternal instincts had embedded in his personality without him even realizing it. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. You’re right. I came in uninvited and I started cooking… I’ll be sure to buy back the ingredients and pay you back for them as well.”

“No, no, it’s not that, I promised! I come over to your house all the time and raid your fridge without asking…” Raymond chuckled sheepishly, as did Gregory. “I just mean, you know, the napkin thing. I’m an adult in college, I promise I can clean my face myself.”

“Oh, of course, that too.” Gregory decided against pointing out all the times he’s spotted Raymond with frosting on his face when he’d raid the fridge for dessert. “I’ll give you some space to rest, okay? I won’t interrupt or anything, I promise.”

Gregory got up to leave, but Raymond called out to stop him.

“Hey! Wait, Mr. Edgeworth?”

“Yes?”

“If you make more tea, I’m totally fine with you waking me up, okay?”

“Just get some rest for now.”

#snez attorney #sicktember 2022 #my writing

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

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can i ask for jealous jealous cassian 😭 i’m weak for jealous possessive cassian

Ok everyone wants Jealous!Cassian and I am but a humble servant. I’m using this broad prompt to get out an idea I made as a half joke/meme a while back but now is the time to make it real. Also it involves Tarquin/the summer court but mostly in a tangential way so if you’d like to read a far superior drabble on that @vidalinav has been putting out some bangers.

“I need you to go get Nesta.” Cassian stomped into Feyre’s studio, arms tight to his sides, hands curled into fists. He was going to kill his mate. After he got her back and apologized and made sure she wasn’t mad at him anymore and brought her some tea and let her read for a bit… THEN he was going to kill her. Sneak attack.

He was going to kill her for worrying him like this. Yes, he’d messed up, but… this was cruel and unusual punishment. It wasn’t jealousy. Ok, it wasn’t just jealousy. She… she was one half of his heart and soul and body and she chose to go to the one place he count follow. He’d have followed her into every hell that every god could come up with, but this… this was worse than hell. This was politics.

“Funny thing with this whole mates situation is that one of us in this room has a literal physical tie to Nesta and knows where she is at all times. The other does not. So I think that probably if Nesta is gone it should be you getting her, no?” Cassian glared, not at all impressed by Feyre’s little witticisms at this particular moment. “Unless she’s shutting you out?”

“She’s not shutting me out.” Cassian said through gritted teeth. It was so much worse than shutting him out. She was actively NOT shutting him out. Teasing him with where she was, who she was with, the fact that he couldn’t go after her. “She’s in the Summer Court.”

Feyre laughed. Set her paintbrush down, wiped her hands off on her smock, and walked around the other side of her easel. “Oh you must have done something bad, Cass.”

“No! I…” the massive Illyrian warrior sighed, dropping his head like a chastised puppy. “We may have passed one of my, um, friends… in the street by the Sidra.”

Feyre rose an eyebrow. “So? You and Nesta both have lovers all over this city. It’s never been a problem before.”

“Right. Well. This one, um, talked. A lot. And it wasn’t just a one night thing so then Nesta may have asked me what I’d seen in her because honestly she was being really weird so that was a fair question and I may have said that she was usually a lot nicer but Nesta tended to bring that coldness out in people.”

“What the fuck, Cass?”

“I know! I know, it was stupid and I didn’t mean it and I was just playing around and I thought it was a joke but she got all mad and next thing I know my brain is flooded with pictures of her in a little bathing suit on a boat and I know Tarquin is there with her and I’m banned so I can’t go and just please go get her Feyre! Please. She’s my mate and I can’t say I’m sorry if she isn’t here.”

Feyre sighed, “Fine.”

Nesta was having a great time on her vacation. Not only because the water was glimmering and dolphins were jumping up around the boat and she was tanning under the bright warmth of the summer sun.

But also because she knew Cassian must be going out of his mind. HAH! That’ll show him. Did she care that much about a bad joke? No. Had Cassian been growing a little bit too comfortable in the little cocoon they had made for themselves? Yes.

So let him miss her for a day. Or maybe a week. It’d be better for them both when she came back. Her toes were already curling at that possessive little growl he’d give once his arms were around her again. Not the loud, dramatic roars of a climax but the little back of his throat growl that Cassian gave whenever anyone or anything got too close to Nesta. Even Azriel once. Though she supposed that only meant her mate was perceptive.

“Two Archerons on my humble barge,” Tarquin grinned as the air turned a little chilly the way it did when someone was winnowing into a space. “What could I have done to get so lucky.”

Nesta sighed as her little sister fell out of the sky. “He sent you?”

Feyre nodded. “He’s really torn up, Nesta. He feels awful.”

“Good.” Nesta crossed one leg over the other on her sun lounger, hand reaching back. Tarquin obliged the silent request for a new cocktail with a giddy smile.

“It’s been hours, don’t you think that’s punishment enough?”

Nesta gasped, turning to a smirking Tarquin in shock. “You think I’m here to punish my mate? What kind of a person would do such a thing! No no, I’m just here to get some sun and catch up with my dear friend Tarquin.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes. “You and Tarquin are friends?”

“Best friends, I’d say.” The High Lord of Summer smiled, showing off every one of his pearly white teeth. Sure, they were friends. Friends in torturing certain arrogant Illyrian generals.

“Uh hu.” Feyre drew out the syllables.

“You look stressed,” Nesta slipped her sunglasses down her face and turned back to the sun lest she end up unevenly coloured. “You should grab a drink and join us. I was going to go for a swim in a bit.”

The bait dangled and Feyre rose up on her toes. Feyre loved swimming. She always had. Said it made her feel weightless and free.

Tarquin was behind her with a magically frozen slushy drink in a heartbeat. “Come on, High Lady. Take a break.”

Feyre sighed, but cracked a little smile. “If I remember, you do know how to throw a party, Tarquin.”

Nesta smirked as Feyre sat down on a deck lounger beside her and a hard tug pulled on her heart.

Not her heart, but her rib, where the bond was tied.

Have a fun day, mate.

#nessian #nesta archeron #drabbles open #feyre archeron #nessian fanfiction #acosf #tarquin #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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bunnykawa · 4 years

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what are you doing, step bro? (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: To your parents, Sakusa was the greatest son. To you, he was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, but you could only find that out with a little force.

a/n: i literally just started college so i won't have much time to write but i have some stories in my drafts that'll be posted in awhile lol. should i open requests for haikyuu drabbles since they're short but still entertaining?? idek i feel like no one is reading this rn LOL but if anyone is reading this, lmk ;)

(edit: I HAD TO REPOST THIS CS IT WASNT SHOWING UP IN TAGS so sorry if you already liked this post)

warnings: 18+, incest, mentions of drugging, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of parental neglect, noncon/dubcon/rape, sakusa is a dirty pervert i just don’t know how else to tag this, degradation, slight manipulation

"(Y/N), this is your new big brother, Kiyoomi," your mother said, holding tightly onto your small shoulders as you stood in front of her.

"You can refer to him as your nii-san from now on." Locking eyes with you was an older boy with long black wavy hair, two moles on the right side of his forehead, and a white face mask on the lower half of his face which blocked his nose and mouth. How odd, you thought. You could tell he was disinterested with how his eyes were blank as he stared at you.

That was the first time meeting your step brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Being four years younger than Sakusa, you two never really got along. Of course you had to respect each other, but there was nothing to really talk about other than when his volleyball games were or unfulfilling small talks. Sometimes he would make snide remarks, asking if you even showered when your hair was only slightly messy or if a smart word ever came out of your mouth when you stumbled over your words. Sometimes he was just mean to you in general to the point where you would cry. You always tried to ignore it, though. That was when you were younger. You couldn’t help that you weren’t that smart and he was your nii-san after all. Your parents would brush it off.

You celebrated his victories together, only because you had to. I mean, you were the younger sister of one of the nation's top three aces in high school volleyball. There was no way your parents wouldn't celebrate. He was their pride and joy.

Smart, athletic, incredibly attractive — everything you felt like you could never live up to.

Your own biological mom so obviously and painfully liked him more than you.

Before you even entered high school, Sakusa was old enough to move out and go to college where he continued to play volleyball. When he visited during the holidays, you still wouldn't have decent conversations with him. He would still insult you. It even made you cringe when you had to call him nii-san. Why address him as your older brother when he didn't even act like it?

But you dealt with it because you had to.

Fresh out of Itachiyama Academy, you're focused on studying for entrance exams for colleges in your area rather than what would happen if you ever had to see Sakusa again. But, you were expecting to see him very soon.

Gentle knocks are heard from outside your door and before you can respond, your mom is already opening it.

"(Y/N), Omi is coming today and he's gonna be here for a week. I have to go to the grocery store to buy food and I'm gonna run other errands so it's gonna take awhile," she says, leaning her head into your room. You respond multiple times with "okay" so she can leave your room sooner.

Textbooks and notebooks are strewn across your bed with you on your stomach, trying to cram as much information in your head as possible.

"That means I might not be here in time for when he comes, so you have to open the door and greet him," she adds.

"What about dad?" you ask with a grimace. The most you would do is say hello and scurry back into your room.

She rolls her eyes at you. "He's working late again. You know that, (Y/N)." With a sigh, you agree and she finally leaves your room after bidding you a "goodbye."

You can't remember the last time you saw Sakusa, but it was probably almost half a year ago. Ever since he left for college, your parents were even more distant towards you. They probably felt like they didn't need to worry about you because you weren't doing anything important.

When Sakusa came over, he barely acknowledged you and you were okay with that because it meant he wouldn't be bothering you.

But that didn't mean his blank stare wouldn't catch your attention whenever you came out of your room to eat or use the restroom. The atmosphere felt...very odd around him. You couldn't necessarily come up with a reason why.

Suddenly, you hear knocking on the front door. It had to be at least an hour or two since your mom left and the thought of who was waiting at the door made your stomach churn.

"Nii-san is here," you mutter to yourself as you got up to open the door. Right as you open the door, Sakusa was staring down at you with the same blankness in his eyes from before with his usual face mask. His hair was shorter than you remember.

Mindlessly, his eyes seem to scan your body before returning to your face, making you feel self-conscious. You were only wearing black spandex shorts and a loose tank top. Subconsciously, you rub your arm and step back to make space.

"(Y/N)," Sakusa acknowledges you in a deadpan voice. It's no surprise to you.

"Hi, onii-san. How are you?" You try so hard to be polite, but Sakusa seemed to have a naturally dominant energy that overwhelmed your senses, even if he also seemed to have the personality of a jar of mayonnaise. You step aside so he can come in. He wore gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker that was zipped up all the way. As soon as he makes it inside, he removes his face mask, stuffs it in his pocket, and starts unzipping his jacket.

"I'm good," he hums, "Where's mom?" He places the backpack he was carrying on the couch and takes a seat as you close the door.

"She's out doing errands and dad is working. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Make sure you wash your hands before you do. Thank you," he said. You walk into the kitchen, muttering "germaphobe" under your breath at his extra request. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you from his place on the couch as you walked around the kitchen, pulling the tea kettle out of one of the bottom cabinets and looking for cups. His gaze followed the outline of your ass in those tiny shorts that hugged your bottom tightly.

"What college are you planning on going to, (Y/N)?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm applying to the college you're going to and three others," you replied from your spot near the counter.

Sakusa actually perks up at your answer. "Oh, cool. You'll love it there if you get in. Only if, though. You're not the brightest."

You couldn't help but let your face fall in a frown at his seemingly small comment. Quickly, you compose yourself and brush off his remark. You got the water boiling in the tea kettle and reached high for the teacups that were sitting on the top cabinets. Your stepdad definitely put them up there.

A presence looms close behind you, which makes your whole body automatically freeze and tense up. A veiny, bulky arm reaches up easily to grab the teacups while another one snakes around you to pull your tank top down as it was exposing your stomach. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but you definitely feel something stiff brushing up against your back.

"You need to be careful. Don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" Sakusa commented, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to your ear. A blush found its way onto your cheeks from feeling him so close to you.

He usually hated being so close to people. What was so different today?

"R-right," you stuttered, "Thank you, nii-san."

Confrontation wasn't a strong trait of yours.

You guess that moment was when it started getting really weird between you two. You still had small talks from whenever he would actually see you come out of your room, but you wanted to avoid him as much as you could. However, that was hard when Sakusa insisted that you drank tea together every night and, of course, your parents insisted, too.

Your nii-san wants to spend more time with you, they would say excitedly. Better late than never!

Maybe if he was showing the slightest bit of interest in you, your parents would finally care about you. So, with much hesitation, you started drinking tea with your step brother every night. Sakusa even made the tea himself so his poor little sister wouldn't tire herself out with carrying that heavy teapot.

You're still not sure if you're imagining things, but the tea tasted different from how you made it. And you swear that the tea didn't make you so sleepy after drinking it until he started making it.

"Come here," Sakusa would say with a smirk, "Onii-san will take you to bed."

You would pass out before you even made it to bed, but every morning you woke up with sticky thighs, only blaming it on sweating while you were sleeping.

Until one day, you didn't drink all the tea that he made you. You still fell asleep, though. Your brain was hazy enough to make you lose consciousness as he helped you up from your seat in the kitchen.

Sakusa laid next to you on your bed. You were placed on your side so he could slide under the sheets right behind you to press his hardened length against your ass. This was his favorite part of the night. He spent a few minutes playing with your cunt to make it slick enough for him to let his cock break through your walls.

You barely stirred awake. Didn't even move an inch as he caressed every part of your body, from your soft nipples to the sensitive nub between your thighs.

He pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his thighs quickly. His cock hit your ass before settling between your folds. A satisfied moan leaves his lips when he feels your wetness coating the top part of his shaft as he rubbed it against you. He hooked his arm around one of your legs so that you were spread open enough for him to fuck you and rub your clit at the same time with his other hand.

He wanted that sweet nectar completely coating his dick. He remembers the way you tasted and how you came on his tongue the night before, despite being blacked out from the little pills he would dissolve in your drinks. You tasted so clean and smelled so fresh. It was impossible for your nii-san to control himself around you.

And when did your ass look so good? God...Sakusa couldn't believe he never noticed how cute and well-shaped you were. You weren't that little girl he met when you were both kids. You were pushing adulthood now. Still pathetic looking, still too shy, still small around him, but fuck, he definitely would have pushed you over the counter the first day he came over and fucked you until you were crying and gagging.

He continued rubbing circles onto your clit and letting his cock soak up your juices. Gently, he positions the tip at your entrances and pushes in slowly.

"There you go," he whispers in your ear, "I know it's a little big. Don't worry."

He manages to fill you up all the way, making him groan. Your walls were tight around him. He thrusts in and out of you carefully, salvaging the feeling of your slick interior.

But you didn't drink all the tea, which means that you could wake up earlier than he expected.

Sakusa didn't expect you to wake up now.

You stirred slightly as you regained consciousness. Although your eyelids were heavy, you tried to force them open only to be met with darkness.

"Mmm," you croaked, rubbing your eyes. The odd feeling of being filled up suddenly made you wake up more. "W-what's going on?"

"Fuck," Sakusa muttered from behind you. You felt a hard chest pressed against your back and...a hand on your pussy. No, something inside your pussy. And that voice was so familiar.

You quickly whip your head around when the realization dawns on you. What the fuck is happening? While your eyes adjust to the dark room, you see two familiar eyes staring straight back at you. He stopped grinding his hips against you for a moment as if time stopped.

"...Nii-san?" you hesitated. His breathing was heavy and he stayed silent.

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" you asked in a panicked voice. You quickly tried to get up from your position, only to be held down by Sakusa’s muscular arms. His hand wrapped itself over your lips to prevent you from screaming.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, (Y/N),” he whispered. A muffled scream tries to escape your lips. He continued to fuck you slowly, leaving a burning feeling in your walls. The same sore feeling that you would sometimes wake up to within the past few days.

For a moment, you pry his fingers off of your mouth. "I don't understand...Why are you...?" You yelped in surprise, horror, and pleasure as he delivered a sharp thrust from behind you. The smack of his hips against your bare ass made you cringe and feel so disgusted with yourself. Nii-san is actually inside me.

"My poor little sister," he chucked darkly. He suddenly wraps his arm around your knee tighter and forces your legs wide open, your knee almost touching your chest. Instead of putting his hand over your mouth to shut you up, he kneads your breast. His hands were so large.

"You think you can walk around the house looking like a little slut in those tiny shorts?" He stretches you open with his hard cock with slow, yet hard, thrusts. It left your mouth agape, but no sounds left your throat except for small squeaks that you couldn't hold back. "You stupid bitch. Just as dumb as I could remember. Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to bend you over and fill you up with my cum like the stupid, desperate slut you are."

He was satisfied as you were barely fighting him. All you did was desperately search for something to hold onto and bite your lip because you were so scared. His words were painful. "Look at you. A waste of fucking space, only good as a fuck hole. Didn't even realize she was getting drugged and getting fucked every night because she's so fucking stupid."

Weak. That was all your brain was telling you, mocking you, as Sakusa didn't stop moving against you and insulting you. This wasn't the first time. It just so happened that this time you were able to wake up.

"I-I..." you stuttered, "I'll...I'll tell mom and dad." The sheets were gripped tightly between your fingers. "I'll tell them- mmmm...what nii-san has been doing to me..."

"If you tell mom and dad, they wouldn't even care," Sakusa said in a patronizing tone. The way his hand was caressing you made you wanna cry.

“They would!”

"Mom and dad don't even treat you like a daughter, (Y/N). When was the last time they told you they loved you?" Even if his question was rhetorical, your mind went completely blank. You can't recall a moment where they ever told you they loved you.

"B-but, this isn't right! You're not supposed to be doing this," you argued. It was a surprise that your mind wasn't completely clouded by how big his cock was and how his thrusts felt almost hateful.

"You think they would choose your side? You'd be ruining your own life. Maybe you'd ruin mine. And it'd be. All. Your. Fault." With each syllable, his movements became sharper. "You don't wanna betray your nii-san by saying something, do you?"

"You love your nii-san, right?"

You do. You love him so much, even if you tried to avoid him and he never said a single good thing to you in your whole damn life.

Because you have to love him.

You stopped gripping on the sheets to the point where your knuckles were turning ghostly white to brush away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body shook, from both crying because of Sakusa's painful words and how hard he was fucking you. The pleasure building up in your core was overwhelming you, making that intense feeling of having to pee forced out of you.

Hearing your sniffles and small cries, Sakusa pulls you even tighter against him, but doesn't stop his relentless thrusting. It turned him on even more. He pushes your hand to brush away your tears for you, like good big brothers should.

"It's okay, (Y/N). We both know mom and dad don't love you."

A loud cry erupted from your chest. Maybe if your parents cared about you, they'd be running to your room to save you the second you started crying. But, no. Sakusa was basking in the fact that you were hurting on the inside. After years of negligent silence, you were finally letting it all out.

"But nii-san loves you," he said with a smile.

Although his words seemed to stun your entire being, you manage to choke out a "What?" Like it was the first time someone ever told you that they love you.

His torturous thrusts almost distracted you. Fuck, why did it feel so good to have your step brother fucking you on your side like this?

"I love you." He sweetly grabs your face so you can turn your head to look at him. There was a pounding in your ears coming straight from your chest. A warm feeling spreads throughout your stomach.

"You...you love me, nii-san?"

"Of course I do." He was actually smiling at you, "If I didn't, would I be inside you right now?"

His face didn't seem so blank anymore. Sakusa never ever smiled at you. Hell, he never really smiled in general. Someone actually loved you. Holy shit. And he was even pounding away at your insides like you were a fuck doll.

Is that why he's so mean? Was he just trying to hide his feelings for you this whole time? You could die laughing right now. His cock felt so damn good rearranging your guts against your will yet you were struggling to accept it.

Your cheeks naturally puffed up in happiness as you smiled so brightly at him. The flip switched in your brain so easily. Without another word, Sakusa kissed you passionately, because he knew you would let him continue to ravage your body. Your hips began to buck from the pressure building up in your lower half and you starting pushing your hips towards him, welcoming his length inside you. It felt like you needed more of him. More of his love.

Love me.

"Nii-san," you gasped against his lips. His movements never faltered, which you figured was from his amazing athletic ability and stamina.

"Be a good little sister and cum on my cock," he coaxed. He could tell you were so close to cumming from how tightly your precious cunt was hugging his length and how you were squirming against him. You were both slick with sweat. As you started squirming more violently against him, Sakusa tightened his grip on you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined desperately, “Nii-san, I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed his arms and pushed your fingernails into his skin, making him hiss from the sudden pain. With a firm grip over your mouth, he muffles your screams. Satisfaction settled in your stomach as you exploded all over his cock. Your sweet juices trailed down your thighs onto the bedsheets.

As much as Sakusa wanted to, he couldn’t fill up your insides and see your hole dripping with his cum just yet. He quickly pulls out of you and lets his seed shoot onto the bare skin of your ass. The shock of your orgasm left your thighs trembling, your skin wet, and your eyes drooping.

“You’re the best little sister.”

You would’ve replied, but you could barely form any words as you lost consciousness again. When you woke up the next morning, you were fully dressed and cleaned up, with no stickiness between your thighs like how you used to wake up.

Sakusa actually cleaned you up this time. You felt your heart melt and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Everything seemed to go back to normal between you two, with the same small talks and not really seeing each other often, but he always had a knowing smirk on his face whenever he saw you.

Whenever his eyes would trail up your body to meet yours, you could feel a warmth in your stomach spread all throughout your body which forced you to look away quickly. Whenever he insulted you, you would feel your thighs press together. Whenever you caught yourself admiring his features when he replaced his face mask for a new one, you smiled softly to yourself.

When it was time for him to leave, you couldn’t help but let a few tears shed. He was all set to go, with his backpack on and his mask covering his face.

“Hey, don’t cry, (Y/N),” he cooed, wiping your tears away, “You know I won’t be gone forever.”

You sniffled, “I know. I just hate being here alone.” Well, not necessarily alone. You just hated being ignored and neglected just because you weren’t your brother.

“If you manage to get into my college, you can move in with me. How does that sound?” You instantly perk up and dry your tears with your shirt.

"Really?!” you asked with excitement. You imagine all the things you could do with your nii-san without your parents in the picture. You could go out together, hold hands, share kisses, just about anything. He could even fuck you whenever he wants.

These thoughts about your own step brother would've made you feel sick before.

But that was before you knew Sakusa loved you. Now, you couldn't help but ask your mom when the next time your nii-san would be coming to visit. While you were waiting for his next visit, you studied hard.

College would be so much fun with your nii-san with you!

Part 2

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melhekhelmurkun · 3 years

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Compiled list of random headcanons I have for various LOTR characters (mostly Faramir because I love him)

Faramir, kind and polite Faramir, swears worse than a sailor. Regularly (unless he’s in Polite Society where that would be Frowned Upon). The Rangers attempted to implement a similar concept to a swear jar, but they abandoned that idea pretty quickly when it filled up within 2 days (just from Faramir, no one else added to it more than once)

Aragorn has eaten pretty much everything edible - and some things that were questionably so. This includes; tree bark, leather, various nuts, food that may or may not have been past its due date, etc. And yet miraculously he has never once gotten food poisoning (until Eowyn’s stew, that is)

Legolas likes to leave little presents for the rest of the Fellowship (sort of like a cat does). Flowers for Frodo, herbs and game for Sam, cool rocks for Gimli, acorn tops for Pippin (relevant in the next thing), bird feathers for Gandalf (which he likes to sneak into the Wizard’s hat), bracelets woven out of grass or plant stems for Aragorn, interesting weapons lifted off the corpses of orcs for Boromir, four-leaf clovers for Merry whenever he can find them. Stuff he knows they’d like, and that he knows would bring their moods up on their perilous and tense journey

Pippin collects acorn tops. No reason, he just thinks they’re cool

Gandalf sometimes pretends to be asleep (the whole eyes open thing lmao) just so he can listen in on conversations happening around him. He is a giant gossip (we all knew this). He also sometimes actually goes to sleep at night purposely staring right at Pippin, because he thinks it’s hilarious when Pippin avoids him the next day

Merry likes telling Gimli, Legolas, and Boromir ridiculously outlandish stories about the Shire (which are, more often than not, true, surprisingly). Reactions range from ‘you don’t ACTUALLY do that, right?’, ‘I’d like to see that’, and ‘oh yeah something like that happened in *blank* before’

Eowyn’s cooking is genuinely poison but she bakes like a goddess. Her strawberry cobbler is to die for

Faramir actually doesn’t like horses very much, despite how good he is with them. This stems from an incident that happened when he and Boromir were 17 and 12 respectively; they’d gone out riding for a bit and on that ride both horses spooked - Boromir’s badly enough to buck him off, while Faramir’s horse reared up and nearly fell backwards. This made him develop a phobia that he only really got over once the War started. Still doesn’t like them, though.

Boromir has the worst alcohol tolerance in Gondor. The WORST tolerance. He cannot hold 2 mugs of ale, let alone more. Immediately drunk after just a mug and a half. What’s surprising is he isn’t the loud impulsive drunk one might expect him to be; he’s actually a depressing drunk who can get very morbid - Faramir on the other hand is likely to start a tavern brawl when drunk, if only because he loses all semblance of brain-to-mouth filter. This is why he doesn’t drink often, and generally only in the company of people he knows (such as the Rangers)

Remember Irolas, the guy I posted pictures of on here a while back when I rewatched Return of the King? Since he was originally meant to be Beregond, I’m now saying he’s Beregond’s identical twin brother. Yes, they did sometimes switch posts just to see if anyone would notice. The only person to notice was Denethor. He didn’t find it particularly funny.

Gimli actually knows a lot about cooking and likes to help Sam with dinner when the Fellowship sets up camp

#lotr headcanons #lotr #faramir #boromir #aragorn #gimli son of gloin #legolas #merry brandybuck #pippin took #gandalf #eowyn of rohan #irolas of gondor

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teukyo · 3 years

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treasure reaction to: finding out they have to act in a drama alongside their actor!crush (you)

requested: yes !!

a/n: i made it with the thought that you two are the main leads for the drama !! i hope you enjoy ^_^

hyunsuk:

you know that expression he always does when he’s confused

that’s his initial reaction when the staff told him

in the long run while filming the actual drama, he would be very professional at keeping his feelings at bay, but he would be very flustered at first when finding out about the news

he’d look at the script,, rub his eyes and smack his head a few times,, look at the script again,, realize this isn’t a dream

“oh o-okay” he’d say, still shocked about the entire situation.

the members would definitely tease him the entire time

would scream a few times while looking over at the script, realizing he had to do with YOU— cuddle you, hug you, KISS you ???

cant help but get giddy when reading the scenes you two have together

jihoon:

“ohohoho, really? cool” he’d say, but you can tell from his eye smile that he’s elated about it

he’s honestly been waiting for the moment you two interact because let’s be honest, he’d be the one making YOU flustered

already has a few tricks up his sleeve to make you fall for him

he’d also be very boisterous about it to his members— bragging about how he gets to act alongside HIS crush

he would definitely be a bit alarmed when going over the script though

he would act like hyunsuk but a bit less flustered

“oh we have to kiss?! alright” he’d say, shocked at first but then plastering a huge smile on his face when reading the script

he would constantly hype himself up when practicing acting the scenes going “cmon youre THE park jihoon you got this” but he knows very well on the inside that he’s kind of nervous because he doesn’t want to mess up in front of you

yoshi:

he wouldn’t know how to react at first

he’d just muster out a tiny “okay” while holding the script with shaky hands

i feel like in general he’d be very collected about it but on the inside he would be all “?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”

he would also be a bit afraid on messing up because not only does he have a crush on you but he genuinely sees you as an admirable figure with how amazing you act

so he would definitely be a bit bewildered at first that HE was the one chosen as the lead with YOU

he feels like he wouldn’t be up for the job at first because he’s just a sweet humble boy :((

but after realizing that it’s him who was chosen, he would work his butt off, constantly practicing every night to perfect every minute detail

he just wants to leave a good impression on you tbh (and he does !!)

junkyu:

he’d look at the script with wide eyes— “what?”

VERY shocked at first

he would keep asking the staff if this script was meant to be given to him lolol

after the staff telling him “yes” for the 15th time it would finally click in his brain that,, wow,, he’s acting with you

he’d read all the scenes you have together and be so appalled, hand over his mouth

if you had a penny for every time he said “HUH?!” you would honestly be a billionaire within the first 30 minutes

in all honesty though i think he’d be a bit like yoshi at first, thinking he wouldn’t be good enough (like in the behind the scenes of the tmap webdrama)

but he just uses that as a way to work harder so he does amazing (which he does in the end !!)

mashiho:

i don’t know why but my gut thinks he’d act the same as jihoon ?!

like he wouldn’t be AS confident but i think he would be pretty smug about it

i mean,,, it must be a sign he got picked as a lead yk

he would be all smiley looking at the script acting like it’s a precious baby

reading every cute scene you two have together and giggling because it’s just so ?!?!?! he’s doing this all with you ?!?!?!

other than that though he would definitely look over the script over and over and over and over—

he would put his huge crush on you aside and work really hard so he doesn’t feel like he’s holding anyone back because he really does admire you

so when i say he’s motivated he’s MOTIVATED

jaehyuk:

he would do that action he always does where he puts the back of his hand over his mouth,,, yeah that’s what he does

“woAH” and then he’d just look at the script for like 5 minutes trying to comprehend everything, the staff asking him if he’s okay

then he’d do his signature smile and nod because now he can finally see you act !!! even better that you’re acting with HIM !!!

the entire day he’d just be so happy,, like that smile would NOT leave his face

oh he stepped on a piece of gum ?? it’s alright hes acting with you ^_^

he would read the script like it’s some sacred book, reading every single word cautiously trying to immerse himself into it

to sum it up hes honestly just really happy :(( and he wants to impress everyone and you especially as an idol because yk the reputation idol actors have ,,

asahi:

he wouldn’t show any reaction at first, but you can tell from the dimple from his smile that he’s really happy

“alright” he’d simply say and then look at the script with sparkly eyes

he’s definitely made a few (probably a lot) songs with the thought of you so imagine the bangers he’d make now

he would be so inspired that night, writing lyrics for a new song as he reads the script

but the members would be very confused because ??? it doesn’t look like he cares that much lol

but he definitely DOES

the members would tease him and he would put on a blank face but in the inside his heart would be beating out of his chest

he’d put his feelings aside though, working really hard and getting advice because well,, he doesn’t want to screw up or mess up and he really does want to give a good impression on you

yedam:

“thank you” he’d say politely when the staff gives the script to him, his boxy smile plastered on his face

when i tell you he’s happy i mean he’s HAPPY

like asahi he also made a load of songs about you with the thought of hugging you, being with you, etc.

and reading the script makes him so giddy because !!! he doesn’t have to imagine anymore !!!

like yeah it’s technically all for the drama but it’s still real in his mind

his cheeks literally hurt from smiling so big he’s just so ?!?!?! UGH he cant believe this

he would also watch all the movies, shows and behind the scenes videos you’re in just to get the gist of how you act and how to act (and he just loves looking at you but we’ll ignore that)

he’d honestly just work so hard rereading the script over and over because he doesn’t want to let you or anyone down ><

doyoung:

ok so we all know that doyoung has been wanting to go into acting (and he’s very good at it from the looks of the tmap webdrama)

so tbh,,, he would be more happy at first that he got an acting gig like he would literally jump in joy

and then— wait? what did the staff just say ??

“i’m acting along with WHO?!”

then he’d be kinda flustered because,, wow,, his first acting gig with an actor he looks up to !!!!! and has lowkey developed a crush on

which in the end makes him even MORE pumped up because he’s been working so hard on acting and he can show off to someone he admires so much

and honestly just the thought of your presence being there makes him 1000x more motivated and he would practice any chance he gets— his dorm members getting tired of hearing the same lines over and over at the dinner table

he’s just so enthusiastic about the entire situation because he genuinely thinks this is the most perfect opportunity that could ever come to him

haruto:

‘oh wow i’m gonna start acting that’s so coo— EH?! i’m acting with WHO NOW?’ are his first thoughts

he honestly thought he heard wrong at first, asking the staff to repeat the name again

so when he realized he heard it well and clear he was,,, just,,

his mouth would just be agape, flipping over the pages of the script realizing you were the other half to him in the drama

but tbh though i think he would be the type to put his feelings aside and focus more on how to become a better actor (in general i think most if not all would be like this but haruto would be more if that makes sense ??)

like wow ,, you’re so cool !! amazing actor !! and you’re so lovely !! like he’s seen basically everything you’re in so yes has developed a bit of endearment to you

but he would rather just simply use that as a motivation to work harder because you’re an amazing actor and he can’t mess this up especially if he wants to do more acting in the future

which makes him work so much harder because he does want to be a good figure in acting

and if the shooting goes well then maybe,, just maybe he’ll act upon his feelings

jeongwoo:

he’d be a bit like haruto in this situation

wondering if his ears were doing him dirty and the staff didn’t actually say his most favorite actor ever

but no,, his ears work perfectly fine

he’d also be the type to not focus too much on his personal feelings mainly because he would honestly get sososo flustered just thinking about it

just thinking about how he has to talk to you is so ?! really ?!

he’d look at the script in awe because he genuinely can not believe it

like he’d probably have to imagine it’s not you and that this is all for a drama so he doesn’t constantly mess up or get flustered

which is why he really wouldn’t put too much effort into ‘getting’ with you because in the end it is a work environment and he does have to be professional

so he doesn’t think too much on his feelings and just puts all his focus on memorizing the script and becoming a better actor

a tiny part of him does hope you show some interest though hehe

junghwan:

poor thing would be so nervous at first

“really?! i’m acting with — y/n?!”

he’d just be so incredibly flustered at the spur of the moment, the staff would hand him water and ask if he’s okay

he honestly thought about rejecting the offer at first because he thought that he wasn’t good enough to act with you :(

but then he realizes that this is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity and he can do this !!

he likes to use you a lot for pep talks — “if y/n can do it so can i!”

which helps a lot in the end because you’re such a good actor in his eyes and he wants to be just as good as you

like doyoung he would practice literally any chance he gets

oh we’re having a restroom break ? here comes junghwan pulling out his script

he’d also ask the members to practice the script with him because he wants to be perfect as perfect can be

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walkerismychoice · 3 years

Text

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish. My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

"How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

“I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

#QOMH #TRR #drake x mc #ns*fw #playchoices fanfiction #the royal romance #my fic

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papiliona · 3 years

Note

Im here for headcanons. Feed me, I'm starving for headcanons

Okay okay okay I bring them as mother bird brings the worm to her screeching children.

Ranboo cannot gauge normal temperature. This mainly has come from the fact his house has no walls and is in a snowy biome, but i feel like the end is very cold so his enderman half means that he just doesn't get cold at all.

I also like drawing him so that his enderman half and the white part are different textures. Idk why.

Techno in my brain is a man wearing a pig skull mask, but because he has the same size head as regular pigs the mask comes from a nether Hoglin. In general I picture Techno as like... A seasoned warrior in the vein of Odysseus (as opposed to Tommy who is an Achilles type person), so maybe his entire outfit consists of battle and adventure spoils he's gained over the years.

Technodrip

Eret still wears his king outfit, but the metal is tarnished and the Cape is torn.

A lot of these are aesthetic idk what to tell you.

Niki dyes her hair with flowers. The pink was originally light and calm and meant to symbolise hope, but when she saw how hopeless the world around her was she made it more and more intense until it was like fire.

Also she totally uses baking skills to make potions/explosive concoctions.

The people in the badlands actually originate from a badlands biome (the one with the hArDeNEd cLaY) and were nobody's there, so they left to gain power elsewhere.

The egg smells kind of like red velvet muffins. Until you get close to it.

The smp afterlife is like an echo of the overworld, but really faded, empty and with a short render distance. It looks like the smp but before anyone did anything and with no mobs

Dream is in the mortal world as some kind of punishment. I like to think of him as a Greek God figure, human in appearance but able to change the course of fate and absent from normal moral codes. He's on the smp because he committed some petty offence in the immortal realm, so he's bitter, playing with everyone. Like dionysus in percy Jackson but like... Evil and shit.

In the L'Manhole you can hear screams echoing.

Karl occasionally uses really outdated words mixed with modern phrases because time traveller. Like occasionally he'll just be like 'are you biting your thumb at me dude?'

George's goggles are made of really boujie materials and are gem encrusted

Ranboos crown is more tiara like. I need it to be a bejewelled elaborate designed circlet because otherwise the way the pixels are spaced on his skin will irritate me.

Wilbur had a room littered with unfished songs and compositions. Before L'Manburg he wanted to be a musician (this is kind of more just canon). They made a statue of him in New L'Manburg, but ghostbur couldn't bear to look at it because it looked wrong. The reason was that it was an image of the destructive Wilbur as opposed to the creative.

All of the clothing on the smp is of one distinct aesthetic and period for each group but the only modern piece is Tommy's red and white shirt. Nobody knows where it came from.

Ranboo naturally has his irl hair colour, but he split died it permanently and couldn't remember that it wasn't originally like that.

Twitch Prime is a god that looks like Jeff Bezos in a toga

All the technology on the smp is run by cogs. In my mind the smp is like the world in this series called septimus heap, where its simultaneously high fantasy in aesthetic but a clear post-futuristic version of our world. So there are relics of 'modern' technology that is broken and dispowered (like Jack Manifolds headset)

Everyone's netherite armour has different carvings and designs on it

Dream and Awesamdude play chess together in prison, in silence. Neither of them speak but Dream seems to appreciate the company (does he though?)

Tubbo used to like playing piano and ukelele in his bee house sometimes. Sometimes he would sit in the corner of caves whilst Ranboo mined and play instruments too.

Hamilton in the smp universe is a fictional novel (its pretty much fictional irl anyway) and Wilbur read it when he was a teenager.

Erets wool blocks are actually scarves he knits and leaves lying around, wrapped around tiny notes.

Quackitys voice is not autotuned he just sings like that™

I know foxes do this thing where they will sneak into farms and cause ruckus, and for some reason whenever Fundy is near technoblade both of them are just really uneasy

Snowchester is also a front for people to go ice-skating because fuck you my child is completely fine

Ranboo gardening 👍

Sometimes endermen will put grass blocks in piles near Ranboo's shack house when he blacks out for a long period of time or is visibly distressed.

Sapnap used to have wanted posters of himself everywhere because he is a petkiller but when the hype died down he framed them all and put them in his house. Also he plays the violin.

The twitter trending guy is canon but he runs a newspaper which is consistently sued unsuccessfully for having political biases, because as soon as it seems like he's writing in favour of one person he just writes in favour of another. The one true anarchist, Ranboo could never.

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

On cloud nine (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Prompt: Start a story with “Don’t try this at home”

Spencer Reid/ Reader

Summary: It doesn’t matter how many times Hotch asks Spencer to stop the physics magic at the BAU, he just can’t help it, especially when he wants to impress Reader.

Category: Pure fluff

Word count: 1,2K

Masterlist

- “Don’t try this at home!”- Spencer said mysteriously and placed an Ivory soap into the microwave.

García, Prentis, JJ, and (Y/N) were standing right behind him, waiting for his physics magic trick to work. Yes, Hotch had politely asked him to stop doing it the first time he caught him. Then, Reid hit Prentiss with a little rocket on the head, and Hotch reminded him he had to stop doing that at work, though a massive part of him was humored he was still such a child.

Yes, Hotch saw Spencer like another son he had to take care of. He didn’t bother though, he knew the kid needed a father figure, and Aaron had more than enough father material to rise above the circumstances.

- “Ok… and what’s supposed to happen?”- Garcia was eager to see the result, but Spencer shushed her and turned to his coworkers.

- “What you are about to see is pure magic and I can assure you, it’s gonna change your lives”

- “You are setting pretty high expectations, Spence”- JJ raised an eyebrow staring at the doctor

- “That’s because I am sure of my abilities”

(Y/N) looked at them and held her breath for a second. She was having a hard time keeping her jealousy under control. She was sure Spencer was still crushed on JJ, she could see the way he looked at her every time she talked. It was obnoxious, but she couldn’t stop him, she couldn’t say a thing! she was just his friend, not his girlfriend.

Besides, (Y/N) was sure JJ was flirting with him just to keep him on the hook. And she was going crazy, ‘cos JJ was her friend, and she couldn't hate her though she wanted to. It was nerve-wracking.

- “Ok, this is what’s gonna happen: I am going to turn this simple soap in a cloud, and it’s all physic’s magic.”

You could tell Spencer was excited to do the trick. He kept fluttering his fingers in the air and looking all mysterious.

- “Nerd magic?”- Prentiss joked and García and JJ chuckled. (Y/N) nearly smiled. She hated it when people made fun of Reid.

- “Call it what you want, I am going to blow your brains up”

- “Just try not to blow up the microwaves, or Hotch is gonna kill you”- Derek said as he walked over trying to catch what was going on- What are you doing kid?

- “Wait and see”

Reid was enjoying that moment. He wanted to surprise (Y/N) with his trick because he was actually doing it for her.

Last weekend they finally had some time to rest, and the two of them had decided to enjoy their free time together, and check a new exhibit at the Smithsonian. They had a great time, it got late for lunch, so they decided to have an improvised picnic at the park. They bought a few things to eat, sat on a blanket (Y/N) kept in her car, and just enjoyed being there, not caring about catching an unsub for a few hours. Their brains needed a break from all the stress.

- “That’s the cutest, fluffiest cloud I’ve ever seen!”- (Y/N) was laid on the blanket, next to Spencer, and pointed at the sky. He smiled at her excitement over something so simple.

- “Yeah, it’s a cool cloud… but, that one is fluffier”- he pointed another, just to argue with her.

- “My cloud is better, besides, it looks like a giant dragon… no, wait, it looks like a huge pile of hotcakes.”

Spencer chuckled at those words. (Y/N) had been rambling about getting up from the blanket and getting hotcakes for at least half an hour, but she was too tired to even move.

Spencer turned to her and forgot about the clouds. She was way more beautiful to him than anything on the earth or above. Her eyes were fixated on the sky, and never noticed he was looking at her until his silence was too evident. She turned to her best friend, and knit her eyebrows.

- “What is it?”

- “Did you know fluffy clouds are actually called cumulus, their name derives from the Latin cumulo, which means heap or pile-” Doctor Spencer Reid covered his embarrassment for being caught staring, with random facts.

- “I knew the name, but I didn’t know what it meant”- (Y/N) simply replied and smiled at him sweetly. She loved his facts.

- “Did you know cumulus clouds are low-level clouds, generally less than 6,600 ft in altitude, unless they are the more vertical cumulus congestus form?”

- “No, but I do know most of them looks like cotton candy”- she added and smiled- “I could also eat some cotton candy”

- “But you already convinced me to get some hotcakes”

- “I did?”- (Y/N) sat down and smiled like a four years old kid on Christmas morning- “‘Cos I could eat a huge pile of chocolate pancakes right now, honey bunny”

Spencer sighed and melted at the nickname.

- “Let’s go then.”

And that’s why he was decided to give her a cloud. A cumulus. ‘Cos now clouds made him think of her, and he wanted to make sure she would think of him with them too.

- “Ok, so far we have a simple Ivory soap cut in four pieces on a dish in the microwave, but in exactly one minute, we are going to have something completely different”- Spencer pressed start and cooked the bar of soap, as his friends waited anxiously for the result.

He stared at (Y/N) for a few seconds, her eyes were fixated on the microwave, trying to see what was going on inside. He bit his lips and held his breath for a moment until he felt Derek’s elbow on his arm.

- “Wake up, Romeo, the microwave is...”- the beeping interrupted Morgan, and Spencer quickly moved to open the door.

- “Ladies and germs, I give you… the fluffiest cumulus on earth!”- (Y/N)’s eyes wide opened as Reid took the dish with the soap, which had turned into a cloud, a perfect fluffy cloud made of soap.

- “This is so awesome!”- the girl almost yelled as she saw it, and Spencer felt his heart racing in his chest with her reaction. Her smile was brightening his day.

- “Just like the ones we saw Saturday”- he said and handed over the cloud to her- “And you can still use it, you can take a bath with the cloud”

- “Really? can I keep it?”- (Y/N) was way more thrilled than anyone else on the team. Not only because she loved clouds, but also ‘cos she loved how excited Spencer got when he did those magic tricks.

- “Of course, you can! I... I...”- Reid stuttered for a second, completely flustered- “I made it for you, actually”

It was hard not to blush for Reid, but under those circumstances, it was even harder. He could feel his face burning as (Y/N) smiled at him and pecked his cheek, blushing as well.

- “Thank you honey bunny!!”

- “You are welcome…”- the girl turned around to show her new cloud to the rest of the team- “Buttercup…”

Spencer whispered the loving nickname, but no one heard him… except Morgan.

- “That’s called game, kid”- he whispered and tapped on Reid’s back, who looked down at his feet, embarrassed, but still smiling- “Well played, man.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler fanfic #xreader #physics magic #babymetaldoll writes

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cudan2 · 3 years

Text

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell.

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation.

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna. She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?”

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today. However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor.

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.”

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagines #twilight renessaince #twilight saga #twilight reboot #twilight renaissance #doctor daddy cullen #you guys can't tell but this whole story was one large self-insert #i started writing this at the beginning of the pandemic #was in the midst of my junior year and about to apply to dental schools #basically got rejected from all 19 schools i applied to only for one to rescind their rejection and offer me a spot for next year's class #it's a school in new york too!!#what are the odds?#for anyone struggling out there or feeling like things aren't going the way you want them to - life has a way of working out eventually #twilight fanfic

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lochsides · 3 years

Text

Yellow Metal - cathartic Review

Here’s something I did not expect to be reviewing this week but when Zayn drops a 24 minute rap track, you fall in line. I had to listen to it a couple times through before I could even begin to make sense of my thoughts because my brain sort of malfunctioned. I have never been prouder to be a Zayn fan. He’s such a nuanced songwriter and there is so much to unpack here.

I think this is the most unfiltered version of Zayn that we have ever been exposed to (and possibly will ever be). I am grateful that he said his piece in this because it needed to be said. As a brown woman, I felt so seen by this and I cannot explain what that means to me. Thank you Z, for your unvarnished truth in addressing racism and various forms of discrimination.

I’m doing a short lyrical analysis below the cut, but the TLDR is that this is a fantastic piece of art that deserves to be heard.

I wish he had released this as an EP because that would be easier to review than a single 24 minute song, structurally speaking. So instead, I have picked out some key lyrics, going from top to bottom, that really spoke to me and decided to study the song that way. His lyricism is hard-hitting in this track. It is beyond anything he has ever released before.

“The planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving until we ascend so fuck the fence.” — I have not seen this lyric being talked about in the fandom, because the lyrics that follow this steal the show, rightly so, but I wanted to give this line a moment because it’s important too. To me, this lyric speaks to where Zayn is at with his relationship with the physical world. He’s out on the farm (about which he even goes to say “tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor”) and I believe he’s happy in his space and he feels connected to nature (also see River Road). So it is a poignant and slightly jaded, but valid perspective that he shares on climate change. It’s never leaving until we ascend. The damage human beings have done to the planet won’t be undone until there are no humans left to do damage. It’s a single sentence that says so much about the depth of the climate crisis. I’m doing my PhD on urban air quality so this is something I care really deeply about and I resonated with.

“And until they stop killing colour, it’s fuck the feds.” — Yeah, agreed Zayn. The systemic racism that he calls out here is echoed throughout the song, in equal parts anger and boldness. I love that he isn’t glossing over it with metaphors, which he could easily do and it would be beautiful in a totally different way, but this makes it harder for racists to overlook. There is so much power in calling it like it is.

“Never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a Benadryl, keeping it green in general.” — It frustrates me to no end to see Zayn painted as this drug-addicted lazy musician that doesn’t care about his work, because we know how untrue that is. This narrative is tired and simply boring too, and I won’t get into the racist connotations of it when you consider it against his white colleagues who smoke as much as him but that isn’t one of their defining traits in the media.

“I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work … it was hard work that got me heard” — I love the juxtaposition in this verse. The public/media perception on his career is that Zayn doesn’t put in effort or that he doesn’t want it. This obviously stems from his leaving the band. It goes back to what I was saying before about narrative, when in reality, as Zayn has said on various occasions, he fights to make his own choices. And that doesn’t have to look the way everyone else expects it to (“I beg you, don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt”), he has his own struggles that have helped forge his path, but it is his path that he paved, himself. He works hard to be heard. He has to. It reminds me of something my parents used to tell me when I was younger about being immigrants: you have to work 10 times harder for the same opportunities just because of the colour of your skin or your name on the cv. It’s a harsh truth to grow up with but it was my reality, as it is for most POC.

“This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm you. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here ‘til they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80…” — There is something about the simplicity of these lyrics are the messaging that I love. He isn’t trying too hard to sound poetic but he still manages it perfectly.

“All I've been achieving, clocking miles in this region, moving like a legion. Promise that I made to myself, an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving? Staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving. // I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy. It’s time I grew up, a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on the mike.” — This is the only 1D-related lyric I’ll make reference to because this song is about so much more than that. That said though, we cannot overlook Zayn’s experiences in the band because that is part of his story. The tongue-in-cheek of “I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving” is hilarious to me. The line about not wanting to be his own enemy anymore and growing up from 17 reminds me of that quote Taylor (Swift) mentioned in Miss Americana about celebrities getting stuck at the age they got famous. I think this verse is similar to that. None of them ever wanted to be in the band and I don’t care what anyone says, Zayn leaving and proving success outside the band gave the rest of them the courage to follow their own solo careers. Sure there was drama surrounding the split but he did it for himself, to tell his stories the way he is now. Whatever else you have to say about him, you cannot deny his authenticity.

“I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane.” — I think this line tells us 2 things, the first being that this song was not leaked. Z knew what he was doing and his twitter likes tell us as much. He didn’t release it for any sort of attention, otherwise it would be widely available on streaming platforms and for purchase. Which leads to my second point, he released this song to get everything he talks about on the track off his chest. Its referenced in other lyrics too, like “now you see where I come from, the world don’t.” This was for whoever cared to listen, not the world. It’s inaccessible for a reason. I love that he threw those lyrics in. It makes the song feel more like a private conversation or listening to a friend rant. It creates a different form of intimacy between himself and his fans.

“Lessons that I’ve learned, I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself. So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt.” — This one is for anyone that buys into conspiracy theories surrounding Zayn’s personal life. He surrounds himself with real people, real friendships, real connections. I have never bought into the bullshit that he has zero autonomy over his personal life. I love the use of plastic melting as a metaphor for ridding his life of fakeness.

“Feeling trapped. This industry is a cage.” — Zayn is obviously not the first person to say it. Many artists talk about how suffocating the industry is ( which he further comments on in the sung portion: “I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this”). Fame is such a wild and unnatural concept and the exploitation and politics of the music industry only feed further into it. The industry being a cage makes me think of zoos and how celebrities are animals on display, when they should be free in the wild. I also really like the musical interlude following this part.

“Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views.” — Zayn toes the line between keeping to himself and speaking out on important issues, sometimes not very well. I am his biggest cheerleader, but I’m not up his ass. There have been many occasions where he could’ve done better. But I cannot fault him for being offended by the State because same, Z, same. I love that he took this song as an opportunity to real speak out, no punches pulled.

“See I’ve been facing the racists from back when I were a kiddie. Born up in 93’. Living in Bradford City, they kicked me out of the school. Said they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p***, still sit in the classroom, chilling. I’m angry now that I’m older cause I see they treat us different. Got me thinking I’m the problem ‘cause they never dealt with these issues.” — See what I meant about no punches pulled. He said that! He said it like that too. There is so much in this verse that I relate to, it hits a little too deep. I grew up as a brown in predominantly white communities where the colour of my skin was the reason I was outcasted. We know when that’s happening, clear as day. The lyric “got me thinking that I’m the problem cause they never dealt with these issues” says it all. I have many racial traumas that I’m dealing with as an adult because the adults around me when I was a child didn’t deal with racism in the classroom. They do treat us different!

“20 years later, I’m still in the same boat. Tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for. Man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? // Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them. ‘Boy your skin is so light.’ Ok motherfucker, take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.” — Zayn talking his shit is my new favourite art form. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? Something that I will always be enraged by is that POC are expected to de-escalate situations of racism. We have to push our feelings down, as Zayn says in the verse, because the institution is against us. All of the institutions are against us. The fact that he takes it a step farther to say that his name makes him a target for racism, even though he is half-white just nails his point home. Also, can we please quit the whole ‘Zayn is white-passing’ bullshit. He alludes to it again later in the song (“asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define”). Its not a compliment to erase someone identity in favour of white-washing them.

“My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.” — Oh, the amount of times we have heard that age old (v. racist) saying ‘{celebrity of colour} is the new [insert white celebrity here]’ as if POC aren’t allowed to succeed in their own right. It is wild to me that Zayn has to deal with this given his level of success.

“Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening. I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine.” — There is a subtle nod to racism (and Islamaphobia) in this line, because of course the brown man is a threat, but I like the way Z turns it around. I also like the rhyme scheme.

“Raised on the benefit for whose benefit? They’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.” — Okay I might be reaching here, but this is just my interpretation. We all know the benefit system in the UK sucks. Being raised on benefit implies a lack of money growing up, but the benefits aren’t really all that beneficial to the families that rely upon them.

“Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause I hit the nerve.” — Well, okay then, just call me out. It’s fine. I seriously feel like he’s talking to me directly with this line. I imagine a lot of us do. Its one of those lyrics that are a bit too honest but that why we love them.

“Cathartic, I’m an artist. Trying to put my heart in” // “Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name.” — So do we have an alternate persona for Zayn now? Alright, I’m down. I think these two lines are tied together, because both are mentioned in the song title. (I think of the song as cathartic, by Yellow Metal, aka Zayn, or Yellow Metal as the name of the EP if this was officially released). The lyrics that accompany both title lyrics, along with the subject matter of the song as a whole, suggest that his heart is in standing up against injustices. I said it earlier, this is the most unvarnished version of Z that we have ever been exposed to. Almost like the complete picture to the puzzle pieces we’ve been putting together over the years.

“They’re tryna kill us with disease.” — Why did this line scream out ‘COVID-19 outbreaks in developing countries’ to me? Again, I might be reaching, but there is a disparity between how COVID is treated amongst minorities, along with many other diseases, and not to mention rich, primarily white countries hoarding vaccine supplies while places like India (and my beautiful Bangladesh and I’m sure Pakistan too) suffer needlessly.

“Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next. Just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around ’til I’m the best.” — I think this lyric shows off Zayn’s sentimental side more than it does his ambitious side, because we know he’s in this for the long haul. Others may doubt that but his fans never have. But hearing him talk openly about being a father on a song is something else. It’s like Khai added this whole other layer of meaning and purpose to his life and it’s beautiful to watch. I’ve been here since the X-Factor auditions guys!! It makes me so emotional to witness him like this.

“Aint many of me around, p***, I’m just different. Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil, fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto.” — God, we’ve been waiting for a fuck the label moment in this house, haven’t we? I won’t get into my theories on his label or his team, but none of us deny the fact that they should be doing more for him than they are. He has the potential to be the biggest thing with the right team and promo because he has a built-in fan base that would go the mile for him. Obviously, there’s also his aversion to promo to contend with and that’s his decision. Even without it, he could shatter every ceiling. Another thing I want to mention about this verse is the nod to the complete lack of South Asian representation in contemporary Western media.

“Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse.” — I’m just putting this in here because it made giggle. Also going to take this space to say how much I love his energy in this song. He knows he’s the shit, as he should!

“Can’t be louder … so free Gaza on my banner.” // “They’re hating on Palestine ways.” — I love that Zayn has always supported this movement, years ago, before being ‘woke’ was a thing. But now, he has a daughter that has Palestinian heritage and I’m sure that makes this hit that much deeper for him, personally. The apartheid in Palestine is heart-wrenching. It’s so strange to me to watch it happen, because I never thought I would witness something like this happening in 2021, yet here we are.

“Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing. We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route. Say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown. I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.” — This verse is straight up savage and I am living for it! I find it hilarious that he called Biden a snake. This verse addresses the truth about politics, that even electing a left-wing leader doesn’t fix the system.

“I’m Tony Stark, still embarking on a dream” // “Gone green like Bruce Banner” // “He taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten.” — And to tie it all off, I wanted to take a goofy moment to mention all the superhero lyrics Z added in this song, really showing his personality because I’m such a nerd when it comes to this stuff and it makes me wish that we were friends so I could annoy him to death about it.

#reviews #zayn #yellow metal #cathartic #zayn malik

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

Text

Downward Descending

the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and every villain is the hero of his own story.

Justin Hammer didn’t consider himself a good man.

Kind? Yes. But not good.

aka thanks, commenter, I blame the plot twist my brain came up with on you because I had zero inspiration for this AU up until I saw your comment

probably won’t make sense if you didn’t read part one to this mess and heads up, the protagonist becomes a villain here. Under the cut because it ran away on me, again.

Above all things, Justin Hammer was a realist.

Kind of hard not to be, considering; between their [fading] memories of another world, and the life they’d been stuck with this round as the heir of Hammer Industries, they’d never really had a chance to get their head in the clouds.

Other people could dream of a better future, and he really did wish them all the best— but in the meantime, he had work to do.

Justin didn’t understand these people.

Sometimes, he wondered if he ever would.

Justin didn’t think much of his family: oh, sure, they were loaded, but...well, for obvious reasons, he didn’t think very highly of some— okay, most— of their parenting choices.

Look, some people just aren’t meant to be parents, okay? But at least they try and give a damn.

These guys didn’t even bother.

Not when their heir turned out to be a normal kid instead of a once-in-a-generation child prodigy and genius [no hard feelings, though, Stark].

Eh. Whatever.

Might’ve been for the best, actually; at least it was him and not some other poor kid who got stuck with dealing with all the crushing expectations and comparisons to a frankly impossible ideal, and at least they didn’t try to pull any of that shit with his little sister because if they had then...he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done, but it would not have been pretty.

[they were an older sibling twice over. some things were etched into their soul.]

It wasn’t like Justin had set out to quasi-adopt just about everyone remotely his age, okay? It just sort of...happened.

Okay, look, it’s not his fault everyone his generation looks like a kid to him, they’re all brats and for some reason, all their parents came in different flavors of shitty because their IQs were sky-high but their collective emotional intelligence wouldn’t have filled a teaspoon so looks like it was up to him to step up.

Look, it made perfect sense at the time!

Sometimes, it’s funny how Justin is the most mature person in the room. Other times, it’s just pathetic.

Especially when it’s two grown men half a second from duking it out while in public, like they weren’t supposed to be setting an example for their kids.

Justin couldn’t help his dark look at the spectacle, even as he ushered Stark and Pym to the buffet tables on the other side of the room, all the while trying to keep the conversation light. He didn’t really have the time for hobbies, not with all the private tutors his parents kept foisting on him, but it was still nice to hear what other people his age got up to.

...unless said kid was Stark, in which case they all got regaled with an overenthusiastic spiel on something that went way over Justin’s head but hey, he’d had plenty of practice nodding along to Steph’s chatter so this was nothing.

Looking back, it’s kind of sad how something as simple as giving half a damn was enough for Stark to consider them lifelong friends.

Even sadder, because Justin hadn’t even realized it at the time; he’s just been his usual self.

But apparently, that was enough for some people, was significant enough to be remembered even decades later— long after Justin himself had forgotten all about the encounter.

There weren’t a lot of things Justin put actual effort in.

Emotionally, that is; he was not afraid from hard work, never had been, but there was a world of difference between brushing up on engineering terms and being there for someone.

Not like his mother, who’d apparently thought giving birth to him and his sister was enough involvement in his life, and proceeded to spend all her time in the Bahamas whenever she had the chance. Not for his father, who constantly tried to make him into something he was not, and finding him wanting [when he wasn’t being a sexist piece of shit who regularly cheated on his wife, anyway, but that was a whole other mess entirely].

But maybe that’s why he tried to be kind, why he tried to be there for the people around him.

...oh, and apparently he’d been known for giving good advice in boarding school to anyone who asked. Which was weird, but whatever. At least he’d helped?

Justin tried to be a good older sibling. Really, he did, trying to be as supportive as he could be of Steph as he could.

Sometimes, though, that landed him in some...interesting situations.

Such as her infamous ‘fashion design’ phase, which lasted for five very memorable months, during which he wore even her most dubious of creations without complaint even though he really, really couldn’t pull off that particular shade of orange.

There were probably pictures still floating around, actually, but he was in no particular hurry to dig them up.

Not that he was ashamed, because he’d like to think he pulled off some of those combinations remarkably well, but... well, if it were anyone other than his sister asking, he probably wouldn’t have done it.

Goodness knew how long it’d taken for some of the other guys at boarding school to look him in the eye afterwards.

Several decades in, and Justin Hammer had yet to express interest in anyone.

Oh, he was perfectly polite and charming to everyone; courteous and charismatic, but...well.

'Gentleman’, some called him; ‘in the closet’, dismissed others with a scoff.

The truth was somewhere in between: Justin couldn’t help but see everyone his age or younger as kids, and between that, his natural older sibling instincts, and his own personal issues with his body that came and went, well...

At least Stark was always a good distraction, nobody paid attention to him when the guy was around.

Justin worked at his company long before he became its CEO.

It was a bit awkward at first, because everyone seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of the boss’ kid looking over their shoulders, but once they saw he did good work and pulled his weight [and didn’t regularly make tasteless jokes about kitchens or whatever bullshit his old man was up to these days], things picked up the pace.

He bounced between departments a bit because he wanted to get a better feel for the company, and it was during his brief foray in the marketing department that he came across something that gave him pause.

Now, he knew Hammer Industries followed federal guidelines on who they did and didn’t sell to, officially, but...there were a few grey areas sometimes.

Normally, it wasn’t something he’d have blinked at, but he recognized the names on this particular proposal.

“Von Doom? Latveria? Geez, Victor, what’ve you been up to?”

Once upon a time, there had been a boy who appreciated silence when studying during a time when most children his age were anything but.

So when another brat showed up, he hadn’t exactly been happy about it at first.

But they were quiet, and seemed to prefer to keep their nose in their book, and so they’d come to a wordless agreement to share the space.

For over three years, they studied together and shared exasperated looks when the other brats got loud, and so it was that a friendship was born.

It wasn’t until they stopped showing up one day that Justin learned that there was turmoil in that student’s country that’d forced them to go back, and only then that he learned his silent studymate’s name.

An unusual childhood friendship wasn’t much to go off of.

But it was something.

And knowing what he did about Victor, and the pull his country had in the international sphere... it was a risky gamble, but he was fairly certain he could pull it off.

So Justin quietly but firmly took that particular proposal from the ‘reject’ pile, and took it to his father to look over.

He was still fairly new at this, but he knew how to play the game. It was a risky gamble, but if this panned out, they’d have a significantly stronger foothold in places their rivals couldn’t even dream.

Worst comes to worse, well... everyone was so focused on what was going down in Yugoslavia, it wasn’t like they’d particularly care if a few shipments went missing, now, would they?

It wasn’t pretty, but then, Justin wouldn’t get anywhere in the world if he was afraid of getting his hands dirty.

Latveria’s reputation as an unstable country ended when the scion of one of their most eminent families went and united its people, kicking out all of the outside factions vying for territory as he did.

Then he promptly turned around and revitalized its economy, infrastructure, and gods knows what else because seemingly overnight, Latveria turned into one of the richest countries on the planet.

Sitting back in his chair, Justin smiled as he put down the newspaper.

“Huh. Sounds like someone’s been busy.”

He got a very slick cell phone via courier, not long after that.

That, and a slip of paper with a simple ‘Thanks’ in Victor’s signature scrawl.

Years passed.

Years passed, and shit went down, but no matter what hurdles life threw his way, Justin powered through them nonetheless.

Like when his little sister had a kid and their parents freaked out because she wasn’t married, and then freaked out even more when little Timmy turned out to be on the spectrum and Justin wasn’t remotely surprised when she cut all contact with them after that.

Goodness knew he’d have done the same long ago, after all the shit they’d pulled over the years.

He was just happy she chose to keep him in her life, and that Timmy seemed to really like him as an uncle.

Stark was a bona fide hero, was talking about privatizing world peace.

Justin wished him the best of luck.

But...well, he hadn’t been the one to propose their rivalry, but if Stark wasn’t in the industry to compete against, then... oh, bother.

Looks like he’d have to change up his plans.

Stark was acting weird. Well, weirder, he’d never really been able to understand him in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Justin asked as he pulled him to the side. Sure, it was probably rude to ignore the gala’s host, but he did not like the look in Stark’s eyes, no matter how bright his smile was.

“Hey, Justin! How’ve you been? Long time no see, but—”

“You’re not okay.” He said, making sure his tone brooked no argument because he knew Stark, had known him since they were kids and he was not okay.

It was like a switch flipped: Stark’s smile vanished, and he reached out towards him for a moment before he sighed and were those tears in his eyes? “Yeah, you could say that.”

The government wanted to take Stark’s super-fancy suit, and...this, he could work with. Somehow.

Damn it, he’d need to tweak some of his plans even more...

For a few seconds, Stark looked very betrayed when he caught sight of him in the courtroom.

Then his face went blank in the way Justin had long known to be his ‘I am screaming internally but I refuse to let the cameras see’ look, and he felt bad for him even as he submitted his own findings to their audience.

To be honest, they were a long ways off from developing anything close to what Stark already had in hand, but it never hurt to be prepared for the future. If one man could do it, what was to stop another?

They were all lucky Stark was a good man who didn’t abuse his power.

Justin was no hero, but if lightning were to strike twice...better him than a potential threat.

Besides— Stark needed competition if he didn’t want to stagnate. Who knows? Hopefully, they’d be able to push each other to greater heights.

Ivan Vanko was a dangerous man. Just as brilliant as Stark, but with an edge that could only have been gained from a hard life.

Dealing with him would be like playing with fire, Justin just knew it.

[Like knew like, after all.]

But he knew people, knew how to work them, and considering that little display at the race track?

He could work with this.

It takes a handful of phone calls to put out all the fires from the past few days.

Perk of being a well-known and respected figure in the defense industry, Justin supposed; Stark’d once mentioned his contact list was classified six ways to Sunday, so really, having a few senators on speed-dial was nothing.

He had to do some extra sweet-talking to calm down some of the generals, and may or may not have made mention to some of his older contracts to get Stern to ease up, but whatever.

Why he was invited to Stark’s birthday celebration, he didn’t know.

But he brought a bottle of apple cider and champagne anyway, because why the hell not.

This party was really, really not his style.

So when he was pulled aside by the man of the hour, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed he was out of his suit and— wait.

Justin whipped back to where the piece of equipment that had been the source of all this mess was dancing on the table, while Tony was in a rumpled suit not three feet from him.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Stark looked like shit.

...and was apparently dying, because he’d passed up Justin’s offer at a toast, even though it had been an inside joke for almost as long as they could remember.

Also, he’d looked stricken when Justin had tried to joke about it, that was another pretty big clue.

They weren’t normally one for hugs, but this time they didn’t hesitate to offer— and so felt very very awkward when the closest thing they had to a childhood frenemy proceeded to break down in their arms.

Justin’s older sibling instincts flared to life and they tried to murmur reassurances the best they could, but.

Wasn’t like there was much they could say, now, could they?

Stark was dying, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Something inside Justin was screaming, and the part of him that wasn’t trying to be there for someone absently wondered why...then he noticed what he was saying, and kicked himself for not paying attention earlier.

“—ever give up, I’m here, know you are not alone—”

Geez. Talk about sappy, normally they only got like this around their sister or nephew.

But whatever it was they’d said, it apparently helped.

Or something, because Stark was honest-to-goodness crying but after a few minutes, started to calm down and pull himself together.

“I’m so, so sorry about this—” Stark started, and Justin cut in.

“Don’t be, looks like you needed it.” And he clearly had; already he looked a lot better than before.

“I...should get back to the party, shouldn’t I?” Ah, looks like Justin wasn’t the only one feeling awkward now.

“It’s gone on for a while, and you look pretty tired. You sure you don’t want to wrap it up instead?”

“...yeah, that’s... probably a good idea. See you around, Justin. Hopefully.”

“See you later, Stark.”

Stark apparently invented a new element in his basement.

He knew this, because Stark called him up to say he wasn’t dying anymore.

Once he hung up, he felt torn between immense relief, and exasperation that he’d need to rewrite his plans again.

...aaand kinda ran out of steam again. Long story short, yes, this is the AU where Justin Hammer maybe sort of becomes the Lex Luthor of the universe and may or may not end up accidentally creating a League of Evil of sorts because he’s frenemies with Tony and Victor von Doom ends up having a similar dynamic with some grad student and Ivan has some really good ideas and loves sticking it to the man.

Said club only grows when the Avengers Initiative forms, and Loki escapes custody and joins for the sole purpose of pranking Thor and giving Fury a headache and Justin may or may not end up getting a crush somewhere along the way.

No, I’m not sure how we got here either.

#No Hero [And Not Made Of Stone]#No Hero [Downward Descending]#fic ideas #fic idea #does it count if said 'fic idea' is over 2k long?#My writing

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

look at this godforsaken mess that you made me.

[Chris Evans x Reader]

Summary: After one night of truth, it became difficult to hide the emotions behind this illicit affair.

Warnings: implied age gap, angsty, actress!reader,(poorly written) smut but in flashbacks LOL

Word Count: ~ 3k

sorry this was lowkey ass. i wrote this in the hospital.

Buy me a Ko-Fi - donations are appreciated but not necessary

Laughter and chatter were almost as loud as whatever top 40 pop song was blaring throughout the speakers. You used to enjoy these get togethers, but this time was different. You dreaded it.

If it had been your choice, you would’ve immediately packed up and flew back to your hometown, but the heavy storm brewing in the skies cancelled all flights out of the city. You were stuck with your co-stars – the makeshift Marvel family that welcomed you with open arms. Though you loved them dearly, six months had been a long time. You longed for a break and you deserved it all the same. But truthfully, you craved the escape more.

You were among the youngest members of the cast – at the prime partying age, according to Mackie at least. Everyone found your eagerness to leave and sudden standoffish behavior completely uncharacteristic, but you always dismissed the accusation.

No one needed to know the truth.

You stared blankly at the wall, a glass of water in your hand as you fought to ignore the eyes that burned through the back of your skull. Looking up would be a mistake, but you were always good at making those.

Your fingernails dug into his shoulders. His muscles defined due to his preparation for the movie. You gasped when his teeth nipped at the delicate skin of your neck, legs locking around his waist as if to pull him closer.

His thrusts were slow and deep as you moaned. The sound echoed throughout the hotel room, making him tsk. A soft chuckle escaped him before his lips ghosted over yours. “Can’t let anyone hear, baby,” he whispered, and you whimpered in response. His voice was deep and husky – a consequence of the early morning. He groaned when he felt you clench around him. “You gonna cum?”

You nodded, too breathless to muster a coherent response. His thrusts became sharper, faster as he tried to push you over the edge. He unhooked your legs from his weight and pushed them over his shoulders before one hand wrapped around your neck, applying pressure slightly.

The loss of blood to your brain paired with the new angle for deeper thrusts had you writhing beneath him, eyes rolling back. His lips found your again, capturing your moans. “Cum for me, baby,” he said into the kiss.

You threw your head back deeper into the bed as you felt the knot in your stomach snap.

“Chris! Chris!”

You took a long sip of water as you tried to shake the memory from your head. You suddenly felt hot – uncomfortable, even.

It had been a routine for you. Encounters that dated back over a year. It had started on a set of another movie, one that was apart from the Marvel franchise. You were new to the industry – the film had been your debut role that launched your career. It had been Chris that put in a good word for you with Marvel’s higher ups, landing you on the roster for an upcoming movie.

Though, now, you wondered if it had been a ploy to keep you in his circle.

You pulled at your shirt, shifting on the couch as you tried to listen to whatever crazy story Anthony babbled on about.

“No champagne?” Lizzie asked you, offering you the bottle. You smiled and politely declined. She eyed you and your water warily as she poured herself some.

“No, (Y/N)’s a beer girl!” Tom piped up, raising his bottle to you as if beckoning you to take a sip. Again, you declined.

“What’s got you suddenly sobering up?” Anthony chuckled. You shrugged. “Oh, c’mon,” he dramatically scoffed. “None of us have a call time at 6 a.m. You’re allowed to get drunk tonight, (Y/N).”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m just not up for it. I guess.” What you meant to say was I don’t want to get drunk and sleep with Chris again.

Your shoulders suddenly tensed when the couch dipped and a familiar aroma swarmed you.

“Chris! Chris!” You chanted his name as you came around him.

His thrusts were relentless as he rode you through your high, desperate to reach his. “Feel so good, baby,” he huskily said. “So tight, so wet.” He pulled his hand from your throat, the blood suddenly rushing back to you, and moved it to rub tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He groaned into you as your pussy quivered around him, shaking your head. “No,” you weakly whimpered. “I can’t – I can’t – “

“Yeah, you can,” he encouraged, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours. His deep blue eyes stared deeply into yours and all you could feel in that moment was just him. “One more, baby… Gimme one more.” Your fingers combed through his hair as you nodded. “Cum with me, baby, c’mon.”

Your breath hitched as your anxiety quickly rose, but you hid it behind a tight smile. Perhaps you were a better actress that you gave yourself credit for because everyone seemed to buy that grin.

“Hey,” your jaw clenched when you heard his voice. It was hushed as if he were afraid someone would catch him talking to you.

Throughout the last month of filming – after your falling out – it had been easy to avoid him. Most of your screen time was shared with Elizabeth or Tom – the three of you being hailed by fans as the “new generation” for Marvel. Even before you abruptly cut him off, you barely saw him on set. Your time together was only limited to midnight rendezvous, closed doors, and twisted sheets.

You let out a shaky breath. “Hi.” You said, keeping your eyes on the rip of your glass, refusing to meet his.

Chris stared at the side of your face. He noticed your clenched jaw and tensed shoulders. The way you avoided looking at him broke his heart into a million pieces. He bit his lip before tearing his eyes away from you, focusing on the pieces of lint that gathered on the material of his pants.

You watched from the corner of your eyes as he picked at them. It was a telltale sign that he was anxious – or bored. Although you prided yourself with the idea that you knew him better than most people did, you still could never tell with him. He was a collection of empty promises, half true lies, and mixed signals.

You should’ve gotten up. Maybe you could’ve excused yourself from your little circle and insert yourself into a conversation with Robert and Scarlet. Would it have been suspicious if you did? Perhaps you could’ve just called it a night, say your goodbyes, and rush off to your hotel – back to the very room where he broke your heart.

“Cum with me, baby, c’mon.”

It was as if your body was attuned to his words and demands. Because just like that, you were a wreck beneath him, gushing and milking him for all he’s worth. He grunted as his thrusts became sloppier until he pushed in as deep as he could and that familiar warmth spread through you.

He was breathing heavily as were you. He pressed a kiss to your temple before gently pulling out. You winced at the sudden emptiness, feeling his cum drip from your hot core. “You did so good,” he praised as he slumped beside you on the bed. Two thick arms wrapping around your spent body, pulling you into him. He left a trail of kisses all over your skin. “Always such a good girl.”

In your hazy, post multiple orgasms mind, you said three words that changed everything.

“I love you.”

But you couldn’t move. You were frozen on that couch, fighting off the tears and the somber memories.

In your blossoming career, your repertoire consisted of two major movies – your debut movie and the Marvel one that wrapped this very day. Both of which had you starring alongside Chris.

You two became insanely close to one another. He could read you like an open book as you did him though sometimes, he threw you off.

“We just get each other,” is what he would say when prompted to speak out about your chemistry. “We’re like two long lost best friends.” Many attributed the closeness to a kinship of sorts – some even saying that you were like the Tom Holland to his Robert Downey Jr; some speculated a relationship. Little did anyone know that this “kinship” brewed from something else entirely.

He knew everything there is to know about you. Your ticks, your pet peeves, the way you tasted and squirmed. He knew from the way your were trembling and the way you gripped your glass that you were fighting the urge to cry.

And he hated knowing he was the reason for your tears.

“I love you.” The words that escaped your lips was barely above a whisper. If Chris had let out a deep breath the very moment you said it, he might’ve even missed it.

But he didn’t.

He heard all three words.

“What?” He unwrapped his arms around you, startled by the confession. You flushed in realization.

“I – I didn’t – “

“You love me?” He scoffed. Your faint smile immediately fell as you shuffled in the bed to stare at him. His eyes were wide in bewilderment – disbelief, even. “You … You can’t love me.”

“Just forget about it, okay?” You begged, not wanting to ruin a good thing. Despite your feelings, you didn’t want them to push him away. You were willing to swallow your pride and love for him if it meant that he wouldn’t shut you out.

Chris shook his head at you, frantically jumping out of the bed. You watched vulnerably with tears brimming in your eyes as he quickly got dressed. “Chris – “

“No.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he pulled on his sweatpants. “Y-you… you can’t love me.”

“Okay, then I won’t!” You urged. “I didn’t mean it.”

He stood at the side of the bed, staring at you, seeing through the lies. He watched your guard fall as you watched his walls go up. He shook his head as he reached for his shirt.

“Chris – no, please,” you begged, pulling the covers to your chest as you tried to stop him from leaving. “I didn’t mea – “

“You meant it.” His tone was hard to decipher. You weren’t sure if he was angry with you or if he was confused. It was just flat. Before you could argue, he pulled his arm from your hands, hastily walking towards the door.

“Do you not want me to?” You asked him, freezing him in his place. His hand ghosted over the cold doorknob as his mind searched for a response. “Or do you not feel the same?” Your voice broke as did his heart.

He didn’t bother to spare you a second glance. “I don’t feel the same.” He said, curtly – emotionlessly – as he turned the knob and left you alone and in tears.

“(Y/N) – “he began but immediately cut himself off when he saw the single tear that rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand while he fought the urge to lean over and wipe it himself.

“Uh, I gotta go,” you said immediately after, quickly saying your farewells to your friends.

Chris bit the inside of his cheek as he and everyone else watched you abruptly leave, the door swinging closed behind you. Anthony had whistled, joking that someone was in a mood which Tom replied that you were probably just tired.

But Chris knew better.

-=+=-

It was late into the night when he heard the soft knocks. If he had been asleep, he wouldn’t have heard them. But just like you, his anxiety kept him up all hours of the night.

“Hey.” You shifted beneath his stare, keeping your eyes trained on your shoes.

“Hi.” He greeted in disbelief.

You stood in the hotel hall in awkward silence, trying to find the right words to say. Breathe. You reminded yourself. Just breathe. You found the courage, swallowing your pride, to lift your chin up and meet his gaze for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

It was awkward – to say the least. You always found that his room was much roomier than yours. It felt as if your room was a studio apartment while his was half of a penthouse – complete with a dining table and a full kitchen.

You fumbled with the sleeves of your cardigan as he asked if you wanted anything to drink. You politely declined – you wanted a clear head and an empty bladder for this long-awaited conversation.

You found it strange that he sat down in the seat adjacent from yours. He could’ve sat in the seat across from you – it would’ve made this interaction a whole lot easier.

He stared at you curiously as he wondered why you were here. Your constant avoidance led him to believe that you wanted nothing to do with him – and he didn’t blame you. He didn’t exactly handle that situation very well. Maybe you were here to end if officially?

“I just have to know,” you sighed out, looking up at him as he angled his entire body towards you. You scratched the back of your neck before continuing to fumble with the fabric of your sleeve. “Why?”

“Why what?”

You sucked your teeth before your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. You took a deep breath. “Why don’t you love me?” His brows rose in consideration as he tried to come up with a logical answer.

Why didn’t he want you to love him?

Truthfully, Chris wanted you to. He gravitated towards you like the planets to the sun. You brought a warmth into his life – a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long, long time… and it scared him.

He was no stranger to heartbreak – 39 years on this Earth. He’s had his fair share of it. And despite longing for a true, good love with a promising future, he was still so afraid of the possibility of getting his heart broken again. But he hated knowing that he broke yours.

He didn’t think he deserved you and only limited himself to the stolen kisses behind closed doors. It was his breakable heaven – and in the moment it got too real, he did the only thing he knew how to: leave.

But he couldn’t find the words. He stared at you dumbfoundedly, silently admiring your courageousness. For someone so young, he didn’t expect the cliché of showing up to his hotel – though he contemplated showing up to yours – and prompting this much needed conversation. But he knew your goal was very clear to you – it was either closure or a new beginning.

You rolled your eyes, exhausted. “Because… I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy or naïve, but the way – the way you are with me? It’s not casual. It’s not a one-time thing. And maybe I’m reading too deeply into it, but I – I …” You trailed off. I hoped it was more. I hoped it was real.

“I love you,” Chris muttered. Your eyes widened with shock at the brashness.

“Chris – “you shook your head. You were tired of this long cycle – this vicious game of tug of war that pulled at your heartstrings until they snapped.

“I’m serious.” He said, looking directly into your eyes. He saw the doubt, the sudden indecisiveness that washed over your features. He saw you try to reel back into yourself, subtly scooting away from him to create distance. He saw the walls build back up as his fell for the first time in forever. “I was afraid of what it meant when you said it…” He admitted as he reached over to hold your hands in his. “It just made everything so – so real for me and honestly, (Y/N)? It scared me so much.”

“But you just left me there – “

“And I regret that.” Chris interjected, shaking his head as he pulled your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I regret it so much. If I could turn back time and stay, I would. In the month of you icing me out, it just… I couldn’t live like that. The world never felt colder when you weren’t by my side. But I, truthfully, honestly do love you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to admit it to myself – to admit it to you… But I love you, (Y/N).”

You shook your head, doubting him. Was this another scheme of his? Was he just trying to get you back into his bed by feeding you more lies – by telling you what you wanted to hear?

“Please, believe me,” he begged. His voice had quaked, breaking ever so slightly. “I’m in love with you.”

“Chris – “he couldn’t register the tone. It was flat, not leaning towards angry, or heartfelt, or confused. Just flat.

But then he saw the tears roll down your cheeks and he instinctively cupped your cheeks to brush them away with his thumbs.

You were torn. Despite hearing the very words you wanted to hear a month ago, you weren’t sure how to feel. Of course, you still loved him. His was the very name that your heart called out for as you laid awake in the late nights.

You gasped when he suddenly leaned in, closing the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t hungry nor heated. It was passionate, loving. “Just let me love you,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours – and you melted into him.

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missfangirll · 3 years

Text

One half of me is yours

Fandom: Guardian Rating: General Relationship: Shen Wei / Zhao Yunlan (Kunlun) Tags: Pining, First Kiss, Ye Olde Haixing Era Words: 1821 Summary: Shen Wei wants. He doesn't know what, exactly, only that it has to do with Kunlun. Lately, everything has to do with Kunlun.

Read on AO3

I actually wanted to write something @tehfanglyfish requested and went to re-read Nudes Sent (to get back into the modern world vibe after reading The Untamed fics for weeks). In this fic there is exactly one (1) sentence about Kunlun and the Olde Haixing Era, but of course that was enough to make my brain go WEEEEEEEE! 😑 Anyway, have some Shen Wei pining for Kunlun 😅 Note that this is set directly before The Scene on the cliff (the one with the name-giving and mask-stealing) 😁

- - - - -

One half of me is yours, the other half yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours. (William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice)

Shen Wei knew he was staring.

He had been careless earlier and for a moment had glanced directly at Kunlun over the campfire they were all sitting at, and now he found himself completely unable to look away.

It was a rare occasion that he had been invited to sit with the soldiers – and even rarer that he had accepted, if their astonished faces had been any indication – but he had seen the general among them and his heart had just shoved his rational mind out of the way and taken control. He had nodded wordlessly and unceremoniously dropped down at the fire.

Now he was wedged uncomfortably close between two of his men, who looked at least equally wary as he felt, and disagreeably far away from Kunlun on the other side of the circle, not able to turn his gaze to something other than the other’s bright smile.

Some weeks ago Kunlun had rolled into their camp and their lives like a landslide, making the first immeasurably more enjoyable, the second definitely more interesting, and had caused Shen Wei’s heart to misbehave anytime he came near.

No one knew where exactly the famed Kunlun had come from, or why he had chosen to follow their cause, but everyone had been utterly grateful for his presence, which soon had proved to be invaluable on countless occasions. He had spoken his mind in war council, had offered smiles and reassurances to the wounded soldiers under his command – he had, in just a few days, managed to charm half the camp by simply being himself, and Shen Wei felt he was no exception.

Curiously, the only thing the general didn't excel at was, for whatever reason, any kind of weapon but his own, and Shen Wei had noticed, first apprehensive, then cautious, and finally with a kind of shy enjoyment, that whenever he went to the training field, alone or to teach a group of recruits, unfailingly, Kunlun would trail behind. He never came close, always stood a few paces away, his eyes sparkling, his lips turned up into a soft smile. Shen Wei had made a few attempts to get him to participate, first by asking politely, later by even offering a sparring match, but hadn't succeeded. Kunlun always kept his distance, while his gaze sometimes turned wistful when he thought Shen Wei wasn't paying attention.

The thing was, though, Shen Wei was always paying attention to Kunlun. If asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell when, or why, for that matter, his fascination for the older man had begun, but now he was fully, truly entangled in the other’s existence. He found himself watching Kunlun more often these days, always hidden behind his mask, drawn to the man’s inexplicable aura like a moth to a blazing flame. And like a moth, Shen Wei often thought, he would burn as soon as he came too close.

He could feel Kunlun’s heat, metaphorically and literally, whenever he sat near the other, could feel his own skin beginning to prickle with a sensation he couldn't quite name, could feel his heart thunder in his chest and his breath catch. He longed for something he didn't have a name for and was scared of the feelings he had so little control over.

He was Hei Pao Shi, the leader, the soldier, the cold and distant general who always wore a mask, always looked at, but never seen, and he wouldn't want, or know how, to change any of it. But with Kunlun close, none of this mattered. With Kunlun close, he could imagine something more, another life, another cause. He pretended not to see the other’s heavy gaze on him over the rim of his bowl when they shared a meal, pretended to be unperturbed by it, but in the stillness of his tent at night, he had no mask to hide behind. He couldn't hide from himself, and every night he lay awake, an aching in his chest, his eyes brimming as he stared into the darkness and wished for… Well, he didn't even know what he wished for, only that it had to do with Kunlun. Lately, everything had to do with Kunlun.

He watched him clean his strange weapon and imagined how those skilled fingers would feel on his skin, how the lips that were turned up in a smile so often would taste on his, how the long hair Kunlun always tried to shove out of his face would feel when he caressed it. He wondered how the other would smell when he dragged his nose along his neck, how his heartbeat would sound if Shen Wei were to lay his head on the other’s chest.

More often than not these thoughts would leave him burning with a yearning for Kunlun he couldn't voice, couldn't show, and when he touched himself in the dark of his tent he wished it was another’s hand.

Shen Wei startled from his thoughts when something lightly touched his shoulder, he was in a defensive stance almost immediately before he recognised what, or rather who, had disturbed him. Kunlun crouched beside him, a small smile on his lips, and when Shen Wei’s senses fully returned, he found that they were the only two left at the fire.

“Lost in thought?”, Kunlun asked gently, if with a slightly teasing tone.

“Hm,” Shen Wei agreed, unsure how to respond, and made to stand up. He felt the other’s warmth dangerously close and as always, it made his heart contract almost painfully.

Kunlun withdrew his hand, looking at him with a complicated expression. “Where are you going?”, he asked, rising as well, furtively moving a bit farther away as if he had sensed Shen Wei’s thoughts.

“I have the next watch,” he replied, “they will be waiting for me on the cliff.” He gestured to the towering rocks above them.

“I’ll join you,” Kunlun said quickly. Shen Wei could only nod.

Silently they made their way up the steep path, Kunlun always two steps behind him, still close enough to hear his breathing whenever he turned to walk around a boulder.

When they arrived at the plateau, the soldier posted there nodded as they passed him and turned around, eager to get back to the camp. Without glancing at the other man, Shen Wei sat in his usual spot to look over the landscape. The moon hung low over the dusty plane, tinged a familiar pale orange, so large it looked close enough to touch. On especially clear nights, he knew, when the dust settled and the clouds vanished, it was even possible to see some stars, the brightest of them piercing the veil the meteor had spread over the earth so long ago.

He heard a soft exhale behind him, then felt Kunlun’s robes brush against his hip as he settled next to him on the rock. He didn't dare to turn, afraid what the other might see in his eyes. He felt his heart beating so loudly that he was certain Kunlun could hear it. Trying to calm himself, he focussed on his breathing.

Shivering slightly with the feeling of having the other so close, he almost jumped when an arm wrapped around his shoulders. When Kunlun whispered, “Are you cold?”, he had no words to respond, could only shake his head frantically. He wanted Kunlun to move away, but also wanted him to press closer, wanted him to wrap his arm tighter around him, wanted him… Wanted. Him.

The flame burning inside him was spreading through his whole body, flaring blindingly bright everywhere they touched. Breathless and with a wildly beating heart, he turned slightly to meet Kunlun’s gaze and almost drew back from the intensity in his eyes.

“I,” he began, but had no words to follow. Words felt inadequate to express what was happening inside him, to describe how his heart was aching with desire, with want, with… With love, he suddenly realised. He had never loved anyone before, aside from his brother, and the stories others told always felt – lacking. But now, oh, now he understood, and was terrified. Love wasn't meant for soldiers, wasn't meant for war. Love was for quiet evenings and hearth fires and flower fields. Not for a battlefield, where every moment could be your last. Love was for others, for another life.

His realisation had left him frozen in Kunlun’s half embrace, and so he startled when he suddenly felt a hand on his cheek. With wide eyes he stared at the other who removed his hand as if he had burned himself.

“Are you alright,” Kunlun began, carefully withdrawing his arm from Shen Wei’s shoulders. “No,” Shen Wei blurted out and Kunlun froze half-way, looking at him questioningly. “I mean,” he inhaled shakily, “I am alright. Just…” He faltered, mouth and throat dry, unable to voice his desires. Kunlun seemed to understand anyway, because he brought his arm back to Shen Wei’s shoulders and smiled softly at him.

They sat in silence for a while, Shen Wei feeling every point of connection between them like a firework, shooting up flares through his body. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and tried again.

“Kunlun.”

The other hummed softly, but otherwise stayed quiet.

“I… I want…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. He wanted Kunlun to tighten his grip around his shoulders, wanted to bury his face in the crook of the other’s neck, wanted to bite his shoulder and soothe it with his tongue, wanted to breathe in Kunlun’s scent and listen to his breathing. He wanted, wanted, wanted Kunlun with an intensity that scared him, and couldn't say any of it.

When he stayed miserably silent, Kunlun prompted: “What do you want?”

“You,” Shen Wei blurted out. “I want you. I… I don't know… I…” He broke off, looking helplessly at the other, expecting him to recoil, or at least draw back a little. But Kunlun looked at him with so much emotion in his eyes that his breath caught. Without another word, Kunlun leaned in and softly, gently, carefully, pressed his lips to Shen Wei’s.

Shen Wei couldn't quite suppress a low moan and let himself fall into the kiss. He hadn't done anything like this with anyone, but Kunlun carefully guided him, coaxed him into opening his mouth, licked slowly over his bottom lip, let their tongues meet. His hand came up to cup Shen Wei’s face, a thumb stroking feather-light over his cheek bone.

When they parted for breath, Kunlun regarded him for a moment, his hand still resting on his cheek.

“I,” he began, sounding slightly breathless, then swallowed. “I want you too, you know. Just… I couldn't…” He broke off, leaning in to capture Shen Wei’s lips in another hungry kiss.

Shen Wei let his eyes fall close, feeling as if something inside him had just clicked into place.

#guardian #镇魂 guardian #zhèn hún #shen wei #zhao yunlan #weilan #guardian fic #my writing #fluff

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

would everything be different today?

characters/pairings: thor and loki, loki/mobius

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 3913

warning: canon character death

summary: Prior to Loki's arrest, Thor attempts to save them and is arrested by the TVA himself. And sure, he doesn't understand much of this institution, but he's pretty sure this Mobius has taken a liking to his younger sibling. (pre-canon, thor pov)

(still obsessing over loki, who’s surprised? no one! half of this fic was written at 2am when i was Not sober, my beloved Cat / @howgodforgives read it for me tho because they’re perfect!! 💖 this is an au... supposed to happen pre-canon... inspired by this post and this post, i love them too much and simply mashed the 2 concepts together so ya. enjoy ??)

read on ao3

Thor thought he could just do one thing. And when Steve revealed his plan about utilizing their time traveling device, just one last time, the offer his friend came with for him to go back was something he had to.

He had a chance to save Loki.

Now, he knows this is far from thought out, far from logical, and Thor never told Steve when he himself was traveling to. They trusted each other, Avengers and all.

Thor knows he could save their mother, too, if he wanted, but perhaps grief was clouding his vision because he’s simply lost too many, and he’ll be damned if he’d let Loki slip away from him after everything they’ve been through.

They were making progress… weren’t they?

It surely couldn’t be another one of his tricks, and although Thor has been naive in the past, he simply can’t lose her. Not now. Not yet.

And so he goes back for them, and he gets there, he’s on the ship, Heimdall and Loki and Valkyrie and Korg and Thanos , and Thor’s never been prone to irrational anger, he tries , but everything happening all over again in such an overwhelming way nearly has sparks jumping from eyes and fingertips.

Thor is so close. And then he isn’t.

He can’t comprehend what happens, but he’s out of time, out of place, and he’s in what resembles most those office buildings he’s seen so many of Midgard. Being crammed in an elevator with these strange people gave him eerie flashbacks to Sakaar, until he’s finally greeted by a significantly short human, brown suit, silver hair and moustache and a lop-sided grin.

Naturally, Thor smiles back in the midst of his confusion, it’s only good manners, you hear.

“Ah!” the man exclaims, patting his elbow with the other hand guiding him forward, “The god of thunder himself! Mighty pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He nods, following, unsure still what’s going on. But Thor’s made too many enemies of a human lifetime, a long time ago, and he wouldn’t want to get on these humans’ bad side, even though they technically kidnapped him… peculiar.

If Loki was here, they’d probably have their knife ready at lightning speed. Classic Loki.

“Well, thank you! I wish I could say the same, but I’m not sure… where I am,” Thor answers. This really does look like an office, one the Midgardians had a decade or so, probably, before they updated themselves. Modernization, that’s what it’s called, silly humans.

“Fair is fair,” the grey haired human turns to him, “Welcome to the Time Variance Authority, TVA for short! I think I speak for everyone here when I say we’re excited to have you here.”

The man chuckles, and Thor doesn’t know if it’s to himself or directed towards him, until the human shrugs. There’s still two of those persons with weaponry and strange glowing devices on either side of them, and it seems his new acquaintance realises the need for explanation.

“Well, technically, you’re not staying as much as… you’re under arrest,” he then says, smile turning hesitant and scratching his cheek.

Arrest?!

That’s certainly a surprise, given human laws don’t really apply to his own kind. Of course, Avenging has different rules and such… but alas.

It seems his new friend notices his eyes widen, significantly, “But don’t worry, buddy! You’re a special case, of course.”

Thor stammers, he always feels a certain embarrassment over himself when this happens, “May I- may I ask for what offense? I don’t mean to offend, these quarters are quite splendid, but Midgard and Asgard operate different-”

“Oh no,” the man interrupts, keeping a quick pace, “I’m afraid this isn’t Midgard, big guy. The TVA, we, well, control all of time!”

The guards escorting them, they must be guards, stop at the same time Thor stops in pure shock. His father never mentioned anything like this. Is this part of the nine realms? He wonders who these people are, if not human. They surely cannot be gods?

“You control… time?”

“Exactamundo! The sacred timeline, to be precise. Let me show you,” his new acquaintance guides him further with that, until they reach a strangely void room, a single table, pair of chairs and some sort of machine the only things in sight. One of those Midgardian ‘computers’?

And when he’s seated (the chair isn’t quite built for a god of his stature, but he shouldn’t complain, politeness is key, of course), this strange man shows him what appears to be a video. A video of… his life. Thor’s life, that is.

This is absurd. “How do you know this? What-”

“We know everything, buddy,” the man tells him, shuts down the device, grin sheepish, “It’s in the job description, you see?”

Thor doesn’t know what to think, rather, his mind feels somehow numb.

He was just with Loki, she was there, within his grasp, then… this. Thor also doesn’t know how long he sits staring at his acquaintance in confusion until another thought dawns upon him, “Do you have Steve Rogers, too?”

The grin lessens, mouth forming a small o, but the man nods once, “Ah, yes, another department. You two sure know how to cause trouble, huh?”

So he gets an answer, but it leaves him none the wiser, or clearer headed, or understanding. It rather feels like those sort of outlandish dreams children have, like he had when he was younger.

But what can he do? Just face this head-on?

Thor wonders if Heimdall can see him right now. Not… his Heimdall, another Heimdall, who might be alive. A Loki who might be alive, if he can save them.

“May I ask one more question of you, uh…”

“Mobius M. Mobius, at your service.”

“Ah,” he replies, and hesitantly smiles back at the grin he receives, “Then why am I here? This department , I mean?”

The stranger, Mobius, chuckles. It’s short handed and with the professionalism of those Midgardian businessmen with replicated suits and briefcases and phones chiming them down. Is this Mobius even human? More Asgardian?

“We’re in need of assistance, you might say,” he finally answers, and turns to power up the machinery once more, “And I, for one, have a feeling you might be invaluable for the cause.”

Although Thor is not sure he yet understands everything in this strange world he’s now come into, this new friend, Mobius, is very educational, and while the thought of being arrested wasn’t all too pleasing, apparently, they wished for him to work for them, instead.

His offence, that’s yet another thing he still doesn’t understand. Thor wasn’t aware of this, uh, this Sacred Timeline , as they call it. Surely a god of his status should’ve been told, shouldn’t he?

He comes to wonder if their father ever knew about this.

Thor is fairly sure about one thing, that Odin wouldn’t possibly have told them, had he had that knowledge. And what about Hela?

But he quickly learns not to think about this too much, and he counts about three Asgardian weeks in the TVA, although he has no idea how time works here , at all. Mobius always says it’s too complicated to explain, maybe he thinks Thor wouldn’t understand.

Loki always said he was as dumb as a doornail. But she never meant it out of spite, he reasons, surely, they’ve always had that sense of humor between the two of them. He loves Loki very much, even when she lets him down. He only hopes his younger sibling feels the same.

Speaking of Loki, that is another thing Thor learns in this weird world- uh, city? Country? Timeline? The TVA is its own thing entirely.

But what he learns, much like his whole life, is that his destiny will forever and always be tied to Loki, and Loki’s to his. Because his new friends at the TVA hired him to find, and catch, his younger sibling and bring them in for a similar crime to his own.

Although he’s also killing people in the process, Mobius explains much to Thor’s horror, and he’ll have to make sure Loki’s not hurt when he finds him, and ask him why this bloodshed is necessary. Again.

Of course, there must be a good reason as to why she’s doing it, he had a good reason to mess with the timeline himself, he must say, and Loki is incredibly clever, his younger sibling’s grand scheme must be extraordinary. He just wishes she wouldn’t hurt other people in the process, they’ve been over this, but she was getting better!

As Mobius put it, “You know them better than anyone, pal, I’ve got a hunch you’re the only one who can find out where they’re hiding. Well, besides themselves.”

Yes, Thor was not certain this was a good idea.

He traveled back in time to save his younger sibling, not cause him even more pain. But Mobius seems somewhat trustworthy, and very polite. He assured him justice would be served fairly, and even a lesser punishment considering the help he himself provides!

Sometimes, Thor has to follow his gut. Loki always hated this trait of his.

This work proves tricky, and tedious, and of course, his sibling is sneaky and manages to escape the TVA time and time again, and if they would just bring Thor with them, surely, he could talk to her. Not apprehend her, but communicate . Not everyone here trusts him as much as Mobius, though, regrettably.

What is curious about his new friend, and Thor’s spent a few nights now racking his brain about this, is that some of the questions he’s posed about Loki are quite specific.

They must be important for the case, he figures.

Just a week ago, hunched over files and files of timeline lingo and alternate futures that Thor has several conflicting emotions about reading, the grey haired man looked up from his scribbles and met his eye.

“Say, Thor,” he started, scratching his chin and twirling the pen in his hand, “Loki ever tell ya what they fancy for dinner?”

And the god had to blink, shuffling the papers. Did he hear it correctly?

“Dinner?”

“I mean, humans, they have favorite foods, you know? Like, preferences,” he chuckled, “I only assume Asgardians are similar?”

Thor smiles as he does when in situations where he doesn’t understand what’s going on, but simple curiousity never hurt anyone. This person’s strange, stranger than the Avengers, but he loved them all the same. “Of course. Loki’s very fond of goat. Herring, too, and our mother’s apple pie.”

Mobius nodded with a grin, and spoke no more of the subject, until two days later (Thor thinks it was two days, as mentioned before, time here confuses him profusely), where his friend inquired him about his younger sibling’s eye color.

They’re blue, clearly.

More muted than Thor’s own, but never grey, although some of these files have wrongly informed otherwise.

Really, this interest Mobius reveals in his younger sibling doesn’t faze him at first, but he’s thinking about it more and more often, as it turns out. And today, when the suited man asks him if Loki might be interested in water sports, it only sends Thor further into the obyss of confusion.

Firstly, he’s not sure what these water sports entail. Second, although he doesn’t doubt Mobius is a reasonable man, what does this have to do with arresting Loki?

“Forgive me,” Thor replies, “What are, uh… water sports?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, big guy. Ya know, jetskis are quite fun for humans and otherwise. Diving, too. You think Loki would like that sort of thing?”

The god finds himself worrying his lip with little answer to the peculiar question. “Perhaps. They love adventures, you see, that’s a thing we have in common. You think Loki’s hiding somewhere, with, uh… jetskis?”

The grey haired man shrugs. Quite strange.

Then his friend continues as they walk along the hall, past several hunters and seemingly high security offices, “She must like jokes, right?”

“Oh, of course.”

Mobius laughs, “I figured,” and his smile isn’t aimed at Thor, but somewhere into the open air, distant and unexplainably fond, “God of Mischief, pranks in his blood. I’m not too bad myself.”

“Huh?”

When the shorter man opens the door for him, he shrugs again, “Sorry, buddy, this way. I mean, they’re incredibly witty. Don’t need to tell you that, I get it. I heard this joke from a Variant, I think they might like that one. You know it? So once there was-”

And so Mobius continues on, the joke must be brilliant, he’s already wheezing to himself, but now, the god’s pretty sure he understands.

Oh.

Thor’s not as stupid as Loki claims, you see. And he has to say, he knows courtship when he sees it.

Does Thor understand why his younger sibling- or, a version of her, regardless, is hiding out in historic apocalypses ? No, there’s not much logic in this, but it’s certainly in no way surprising.

Loki’s got a knack for adventures and danger simultaneously, after all.

But when he realises what Loki’s doing, he simply has to go, even if his moustached friend isn’t sure how to clear it with the TVA, or if it’s breaking the rules, but isn’t this what they assigned the god to do in the first place?

This is his younger sibling. Loki’s alive. And Thor, well, like he’s done all his life, and like Loki’s done all their life, one must always follow the other, at one point or the other. It’s fate, he decides.

And he finds him, finally , after what feels as hundreds of millions of human years and even longer of their own, in the human city of Pompeii.

Loki isn’t exactly pleased to hear the TVA coming, that much is obvious from his face, but Thor is alone, and it’s only a matter of time before Mobius arrives, so Thor must find a chance to talk to his sibling alone.

And his sibling’s face changes from the expectant grin of a plan to kill the minutemen when they arrive to a gaping mouth in shock. Then realisation. Then frustration.

“Loki!”

And the god of mischief groans, exasperated and loud, the screams of the civilians barely fazing them, “Thor.”

It’s a matter of time, then, because they don’t have much time before they’ll be sunken into the ground they’re standing on, and like Thor first started out his adventure in the Sacred Timeline, his first thought is to get Loki out of there.

It’s his first priority, to keep her safe. There’ll be no death. Not today. Not again.

His younger sibling has their eyes on the volcano as well, their many differences being so in sync at the strangest of times, and before Thor can even think about it, Loki reaches for his arm and they’re teleported somewhere- and some… when? else entirely.

It’s eerily quiet here, a distant rumble from the sky. Rocks as far as he can see. Darkness, besides bolts of lightning striking into the ocean before them, and blinking lights distantly behind them.

And here Loki is; a Variant like himself, as Mobius called it. Breathing.

“Why is it,” she nearly yells, clutching the strange device in her hand and giving Thor that familiar glare of destruction, “You always find a way, somehow, anywhere, to ruin my perfect plan, brother? How? How are you here, you damn fool!?”

The insult is as it always is, and Loki looks like his blood might nearly boil over, but Thor just can’t help it.

He feels the tears in his eyes before they even fall. “Loki.”

“What-”

It’s only a small handful of times in all the centuries they’ve lived that he’s managed to stun his sibling into silence, a loss of words. This is another incident to add to the list.

Thor grips on so tight, he never wants to let go.

He can’t remember the last time they hugged, actually. It might’ve been when they were children.

Loki pats on his back, after a minute or two, and a breath of annoyance and… something else sounds at the same time as his own staggering breathing. His sibling’s never returned his hugs, you see, but she’s doing it now. At least, Thor surely wouldn’t mistake her holding onto him, albeit not as tightly as himself.

They sigh, “What has gotten into you now, you idiot?”

Thor laughs. It’s strained, but it feels good. That one, that’s a thing he’s missed. Loki will surely think he’s lost his mind, but there’s nothing he’d rather do right now than listen to him call him the crudest things they could think of.

It feels like coming back home.

“You’re alive,” Thor whispers.

Loki huffs. “You’ve fallen for my fake death, huh? You fall for it every time.”

He shakes his head in response, knowing his sibling won’t be able to see it, but ultimately lets go, and just looks at them. He smiles. Weirdly, hesitantly, confusedly, Loki smiles back.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him again, but it’s softer this time.

“Where have you taken us?” Thor asks instead, and the answer is for once a place he knows of, “This is Midgard, brother, but way after the humans. In about an hour, it’ll be nothing but dust.”

That’s a frightening thought, he decides. He’s already seen Asgard in ruins.

And Thor has to take him somewhere safer, before Mobius arrives. They can’t go back to the TVA without some explanation, Loki deserves that.

His sibling seems severely surprised when he uses his own device, and a protest begins, of course, but Thor finds the right time, in Asgard, and jumps them both to it. Before their mother’s death. They’ll have to steer clear of the past versions of themselves, and their parents, and anyone else, considering Loki was imprisoned, but they’ll be safe.

And easy to spot.

“Now is not a time for a homecoming, Thor,” she tells him, already pulling up the device.

“Loki, no,” he reaches out, and Loki reaches for their knife, classic Loki, “Give me time to explain, before they come.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t raise the knife, “You’re not taking me to the TVA, brother.”

Thor blinks. He almost wants to rewind time on that little screen in his hand, to make sure he heard them right, but stranger things have happened. “You know about the TVA?”

“Of course I do, you buffoon. Who do you think I’m running from?”

He bites his tongue. Oh.

Thor has to shrug. Loki sighs again.

“I know, I know, they’ll arrest me for crimes against the Sacred Timeline ,” they say, in an overly dramatic voice and throwing around their hands in flourish, “I can’t believe they got you to help them. I can’t believe you found me.”

It feels quite like the good, old days, as Stark used to say. “I know you, Loki, even if you don’t think I do.”

They both settle into silence, and this is also strange, but the smile he gets in return, less confused and more nostalgic and… safe, it makes it worth it.

Then, the device in Thor’s hand beeps, and he lets his sibling look at it, and he looks all the more annoyed again.

“Guess I’ll have to surrender now, because of you,” she grumbles, for once, not searching for an escape route, “Who’s leading, anyway? B-15?”

Thor pats his shoulder, in what he hopes conveys comfort. “I’m not familiar, unfortunately. This leader is named Mobius.”

His sibling frowns, but shrugs non committedly, “A new face, then.”

It’s not very often Thor sees Loki in this state, confusion, if ever. His younger sibling’s always been one step ahead of them, two, even, himself struggling to keep up. That’s why he’s always had to watch out for them, before… before the Avengers.

“He seems very interested in you,” he chuckles, and when Loki only frowns deeper, he has to explain his ongoing suspicion, “He’s asked me a great many questions about you. I believe he admires you very much. Even more than myself.”

“So he’s a fan,” Loki says - ignoring the last statement of his, of course, but Thor knows she heard it.

“I’d say more than a fan,” he decides to be honest, and Loki’s brows furrow. Thor pats his sibling’s shoulder once more, “He holds, it seems, similar feelings to when I was courting Lady Jane.”

Loki looks like a giant question mark. “I beg your pardon?”

But they’re interrupted, as per usual. The answer Thor wants out doesn’t get out before Mobius steps out of the time portal, and grins at them both. He seems to hold his gaze at his sibling a little bit longer. His demeanor’s calm, as if… recognition. Coming back home.

And Loki stares back at their brother, eyes wide and brows raised, tilting her head, “This is the Mobius who wants to… court me?”

Thor nods. Loki’s mouth turns upwards to a grin, mischief absent from his face. And even if they’ll deny it if Thor mentions it, his younger sibling’s eyes hold a certain warmth when they look back at the stranger. “I see.”

Many great strange things have happened in what seems a short amount of time, but Thor’s put out of work at the TVA, and his sibling’s put to work instead, and Mobius tells him they’ll reset him.

“Don’t worry, big guy, it doesn’t hurt,” he chuckles, adjusting his tie, “Your friend Steve had the same deal. Wouldn’t call it punishment, but it’s subjective. You did good work, ya know.”

Loki’s sat at Mobius’ now abandoned desk, one hand on a stack of case files, her eyes meeting with Thor’s own. They’re used to goodbyes, as you can tell. And emotions aren’t exactly their strongest suit.

But his sibling nods to him. The smile has no hints of sarcasm, so he counts it as a win. As progress.

Thor doesn’t know if he can stop worrying, after all. He’ll always do it, and what if he, another version of himself, tries to go back in time again?

Loki’s the only family he has left. But at the same time, his younger sibling is right.

The sun will shine on us again. In another timeline, another universe, he figures. For now, Thor will have to let go, but they’ll always be connected after all. Thor and Loki couldn't be more different, but somehow the same.

“She’ll be safe here?” he asks, because he has to, “You’re certain?”

Mobius smiles, like he’s heard it a million times before, “I promised you. I keep my promises, Thor.”

Of course. Of course. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

“You ready?” his suited friend then asks, and he hesitantly nods.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The man nods back, and the device in his hand lights up. The seconds seem excruciatingly long, but he’s got to get back, get moving, even without his younger sibling beside him. It’s a comforting thought, knowing there’s many more of them out there, in other timelines, following each other over and over again, as they’re meant to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Mobius then says, strangely enough, as the beams become stronger and the seconds count down. He winks before holding it out to Thor, a gesture for the reset to be complete, “For bringing them back to me.”

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