#he did what he could!!!! he is a good king and a good friend!!!!!!!!!

[eufezco]

civil war!bucky x fem!reader ( angst , fluff ) no use of y/n

based on the captain america: civil war post credits scene

a / n : english is not my first language so yeah 😭 also my request are open for mavel characters (especially bucky and steve)

You had doubted whether to go or not.

You had been up almost all night, the dark circles under your eyes spoke for themselves. You tried to get some sleep but it was impossible. You moved nervously in bed from side to side. After not finding a comfortable position, you got up and started walking around your room in an attempt to calm your nerves but the four walls were suffocating you.

Steve found you throwing up in the bathroom, on your knees, and with tears in your eyes. He held your forehead so you could let it all out and then wiped your mouth. Steve gave you enough time to recompose and when you were done, he sat on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and let you lean against his chest while you sobbed. You should let him sleep, it had been a long day for everyone, your bodies were still aching from the fight and Steve had enough to worry about. But despite all that, Steve's strong arms held you tightly close to his body, as if he was trying to hold back the part of you that he knew would leave with Bucky.

Steve took you in his arms and carried you to the couch where he placed your head on his lap, wrapped you in a blanket, and caressed your hair until you fell asleep. When you woke up, Steve wasn't home.

You had doubted whether to go or not but in the end, you went because if you didn't, you would never forgive yourself.

—Hi.

—Hey —. Bucky let out all the air he'd been holding in, relieved to see you.

When Steve arrived and you weren't coming with him, Bucky couldn't help but feel bad. He knew it could happen and he didn't blame you for it. You had already lost him twice, you weren't going to take one more, you didn't deserve to go through that again. The idea of being away from you again did not appeal to him either.

Steve, on the other hand, wasn't surprised to see you. Last night you let it all out in the toilet and on his shirt, and you got some sleep, so he figured you would have regained your strength. Or at least you would pretend that you had, the thing was, that he knew you were coming. —I'll go and talk to King T'Challa —. He said and walked out, leaving you and Bucky alone.

You slowly approached the gurney where Bucky was sitting. The metal arm was gone and only the part attached to his shoulder remained. His wounds were treated and on his face, you could finally see a peaceful expression. His brows were not furrowed, his jaw was not clenched, instead he was showing you a sad little smile.

—How are you—? How are you doing?

—I'm good. I'm ready. How are you? —He asked back.

—I'm fine I guess.

After your answer there was silence.

Bucky knew you were lying because of your tone of voice. He was aware of your disagreement with his decision. Steve also had asked him many times if that was what he wanted but this was not about what he wanted or not. Now that he had reclaimed his ability to choose, he had to use it to do what was right, and what was right was to go back to sleep until there existed a way to free him completely from the Winter Soldier program.

—Buck, you know you don't have to do this.

He shook his head at your words. Of course you wouldn't stop trying.

—I can't trust my own mind. —You were going to complain again but he talked before you could. —And as much as I would like to make up for all the time we've lost, I have to do this. Until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody.

Now it was you shaking your head. For everybody but you. After all these years you had finally gotten him back, after thinking he was dead, after fighting your friends defending his innocence, you were going to lose him again.

Without saying a word you placed your hand on top of the one he had resting on his leg. The sad smile appeared on his lips again and he looked down at your hands. The touch of your fingers on his skin felt nothing like the human contact he had been experiencing these past few years. Your touch was gentle, your fingers rested on his hand delicately, as if you were afraid of breaking him. It was the first time in a while that anyone had cared about that. Bucky flipped his hand over to link your fingers together.

Using your free hand you lifted his chin and you not only made him look at you but also made his lips at the perfect height for you to kiss them. You pressed your lips against his, he squeezed your hand. Yours moved from his chin to rest on the side of his jaw, your thumb caressing his cheek. You didn't know how or when you started crying but you felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks until they mixed with the kiss. Bucky felt the salty taste and after a few seconds, he broke away from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours and let your hand go to cup your cheek and wipe your tears.

—You are making this very hard —. He mumbled against your mouth.

You kissed him again because it was either that or trying to convince him one last time not to do it. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, god, if only he had his two arms and could touch you and feel you the way he wanted. Bucky's lips gladly kissed you back one more time, until you both heard Steve fake coughing behind you.

You parted ways, already missing the feeling of his lips and hand on you. Steve came with two nurses and you knew that it was time. You felt your legs weakening but you could not break down in front of Bucky so you hugged yourself and hid yourself in Steve's chest. Your friend wrapped one of his arms around your body.

—She'll be fine. I'll take care of that.

Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded, thanking Steve.

—I'll wait for you —. You said and Bucky flashed you one last smile. He hadn't asked you to because he didn't want to be selfish but he was waiting for you to tell him so. Hearing you say that you’ll wait for him gave him the peace of mind he needed to breathe in the cold gas filling the cryostasis chamber.

#marvel #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier x you #winter solider x reader #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the avengers #avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel angst #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #the falcon and the winter soldier

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Mistakes and regrets

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is a prisoner that sees his way out through pretending to date you, but when he finds true love he doesn't know how to deal with the guilt of making a very similar damage to the one that had been done to him when he was used for what originally were selfish reasons.

☆ Word Count: 10.5k, I think that's my longest fic yet, and written in the shortest time lapse, not sure what that says about my mental stability rn.

☆ Notes: As I proofread I noticed this could be interpreted as generational trauma, sort of... given I made Loki sort of mirror what Odin did to him. But I wasn't trying to be deep, I just felt like shit during the week and used this to cope. The fic might be cringy as a result, I am honestly not sure.

☆ Warnings: Depression and guilt are the focus points of this storyline. Loki starts is kinda toxic his behavior here isn't meant to be romanticized or intended to be extrapolated to real life, I just wanted to explore a narrative surrounding poor decisions and the dealing of its consequences. The reader is kinda a Mary Sue of sweetness but I just wanted to hammer in Loki feeling bad and guilty. I don't know if this is a trigger but I touch the vault scene of Loki and Odin and Odin being forgiven is also handled, Idk if that's trigger warning worthy but I know most of the fandom hates him.

“You’re not making it any for me brother.” Thor spoke through the glass.

“I want my freedom, brother.” Loki sighed, sitting down on the uncomfortable bench. “Don’t think of me as ungrateful, but as much as I appreciate not being executed, I can’t exactly call this a life.”

“Director Fury insisted, I’ve tried explaining to him that New York was a complicated situation. But he wants to be sure you are not a threat to Earth– uh, Midgard.”

“You've surely adapted well to living here” Loki rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“Cooperate with me, I brother” Thor begged. “I want to help you, but I need you to help me first.”

“I’m not sure what I am expected to do from here” Loki huffed annoyed.

Thor sighed and gave his little brother a sympathetic look. Loki was frustrated, and he couldn’t blame him. He would be too if he got brainwashed, had all his anger, sense of betrayal and resentment exploited to torture an innocent planet, and still be the one to pay for said crimes… Sure he wouldn’t be all jokes and laughs.

“I’ve been negotiating a way to test your stability and get your freedom” Thor smiled hoping to cheer up his brother. And he made Loki look up. “It’d be a bit uncomfortable at first. But I know you can prove yourself. You’d have to wear cuffs or a while, but you’d be free to walk around with me and the others on trips to the city.”

“Hooray…” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Please brother, I’m trying, I just need you to be patient.” Thor spoke sadly as he made his way out. “I hate this as much as you do.”

“Do you?” Loki said. “As far as I know, you’re not the one in a crystal cell.”

“Alright, almost as much as you do.” Thor joked softly and Loki did chuckle weakly.

He agreed that Thor had been furious. But it all happened so fast.

Thor had managed to land a fatal blow on Thanos’ chest and soon Steve, Natasha, and Bruce had arrived to back him up and retrieve the Infinity gauntlet. They opened a portal to bring back Tony, Doctor Strange, and the Spider Ling… And surprisingly a weird group of space travelers.

When Thor realized they could travel to anywhere in the universe they opened a portal to rescue the Asgardian ship. There were a lot of severe wounds but surprisingly Thanos had failed, he underestimated the strength of Asgard, and most people could be saved.

“Thor!” Valkyrie screamed and rushed to hug the king.

“Valkyrie! You are alright! Thank goodness!” Thor smiled in relief and hugged his friend.

“Thor you have to come quick!” Valkyrie urged him. “It’s Loki!”

Thor’s heart sank, his heart couldn’t stand burying the only family member he had left. Thor had lost his parents… he had seen his whole planet die. But not his baby brother. Not Loki. Not again.

“Please… not now… Let’s treat the wounded ones first…” Thor spoke with a knot on his throat. “I want to focus on saving lives first.”

“Thor, you don’t get it! He’s alive!” Valkyrie scolded him. “But he’s in a critical state! We need to take him to a safe place to treat him.”

A tear streamed down the new king’s face, and he felt as if he had finally put down a enormous boulder he had been holding onto. He didn’t lose Loki.

“Take me to him!” Thor urged them.

Valkyrie took Thor to a damaged room in the ship that had been used as an improvised infirmary. In the corner laid a figure Thor knew too well being treated by healers.

“Brother!” Thor said. “Oh Gods… You’re alive…”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily thunder brain… ugh…!” Loki joked weakly as he groaned in pain. The healers begged him not to move as they tried stabilizing his condition. His neck had been nearly obliterated.

It was a miracle Loki hadn’t died and that the healers had managed to find him on time.

“We couldn’t abandon him” one of the healers spoke politely to her king. “After all, it was because of you and prince Loki that Lady Valkyrie managed to evacuate the survivors. We apologize for not finding you, my king.”

“It’s no problem at all” Thor laughed in an uncharacteristically quiet manner. He was breathless. “Thank you for saving my brother’s life.”

The lady healer let out a sheepish giggle and bowed. Loki rolled his eyes, earning a lecture from the healers that were still treating him. King or not, Thor still had that charm that seemed to make most people swoon.

The reunion was interrupted by a group of soldiers that broke in with a logo on their uniforms that made Thor’s blood boil when they pointed their weapons at Loki. SHEILD.

They picked up the stretcher where Loki was laying in and took him away to lock him up.

Apparently, the news travel fast, but SHIELD travels faster, and hearing Loki was alive was enough to mobilize and capture the injured God and lock him in a crystal prison cell in a SHIELD base. If Loki had a coin for every time that happened… he’d have two.

He couldn’t say Thor didn’t do anything about it. He could hear the thunders and enraged screams from his brother, demanding for an explanation and Loki’s immediate liberation.

“I demand my brother is released immediately!” Thor yelled.

“You should consider yourself grateful we’re allowing your witches to go and heal that world-level threat! He would be better off dead!”

“Don’t you dare speak of my brother like that! Me and all of my people would’ve died if it wasn’t for him!”

Loki wasn’t sure if he was amused or if he felt bad.

It did stroke his ego being called “Asgard’s hero” in the middle of the yelling. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Nick Fury was just as loud as Thor when angry. He couldn’t complain much. It made it much easier to hear what was going on, which was good, he was too weakened to use his magic to spy on them.

The healers tending to his neck sure seemed awkward overhearing the fight. It must have been uncomfortable to be doing your job in a high security cell. So, he tried entertaining the healers as he could. Although all he got was a lecture when his magic drained his energy, and they needed him awake to monitor him.

Soon he got better, he but wasn’t allowed to be out of his cell. It was a bit nostalgic, in some dark and twisted way. It even made him want to fix his old horned helmet, even if Thor would call him a cow for wearing it.

And when things couldn’t get worse… he met you.

“It’s lunch time” a voice said in a weirdly friendly tone before you head popped by the entrance as you balanced a tray of food on your head in an attempt to amuse Loki. He wondered if there were buffoons in Midgard, but you always tried to draw a laugh from him… Tried.

“Tough crowd, eh?”

Loki couldn’t not be baffled by the way you talked to him. Although he couldn’t decide if that was because you surely knew his reputation as Midgard’s terrorist or because you always talked in a friendly and goofy tone in a maximum-security prison in a super-secret spy agency. You also seemed to be awfully young to be here, but you couldn’t be much older than the girl Barton took as his protégée.

“What’s on the menu today?” Loki asked in a more formal tone.

“Why the hurry?” you asked, “don’t tell me you got somewhere else to be.”

“You think you are a lot funnier than you really are” Loki rolled his eyes. “And it’s not very nice to make fun of someone’s disgrace.”

“I hear you think I’m at least a little bit funny” you smiled as you kept balancing the tray of food on your head.

“Please don’t drop my food, I’d like to have at least something to eat” he rolled his eyes.

You tripped on your feet, and he saw the tray falling down, you caught it last second with your shins, and gave him a little sheepish grin.

“Alright, alright, I’m impressed” Loki groaned. “Can I eat now please? Or is having you torment me part of some attempt to break me?”

“Why are you so moody?” you asked. “More than usual, I mean.”

“I’m starving, and you humans eat way too little” Loki finally admitted. “But that is still better than nothing… Please.”

You stopped playing around and you looked at him as you got the tray into his cell.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were eating so little.” You admitted.

“I barely have energy to cast small illusions, which would serve to entertain myself.” Loki complained as he sat to eat and you sat by the table and looked at him, you didn’t seem afraid, curious at most. You watched him eat and took his dirty plates by the end.

You weirded him out.

You always did something along the same lines; you came to bring him food, teased him a little and then left when you were gone. Although this time you had asked more questions about him. And you seemed more pensive while he ate.

And later that day he got a surprise. Usually, he just saw you to deal with you while he ate. But today you returned with a brown paper bag on your hands and a backpack, you never carried personal objects with you.

“What now?” he groaned.

You said nothing but opened the door to pass him food and slid the bag inside. Loki opened his end and grabbed the bag, it was warm, and it had a strong smell inside, he reached and pulled out a weird soft cushion with a white cover.

“Bur…ger? What this?” he asked as he read the yellow letters.

“It’s food” you smiled. “Cafeteria is closed until dinner, so I thought bringing you something else might boost your mood.”

“This looks like junk” he snarled, making you laugh.

“It’s something like that.”

Loki looked inside the bag and looked at you.

“There’s no fork.”

“You eat it with your hands” you smiled and pretended to grab a burger and bite it. “Like a sandwich.”

“What’s a sandwich?” Loki asked, making you laugh again.

Loki tried to take a bit, imitating your gesture, but you stopped with a squeaky laugh.

“Unwrap it first!” you laughed. “The white thing paper is not edible.”

Usually Loki would’ve argued more. But he had been really hungry, so he agreed.

“The taste is agreeable enough.”

“Try the fries!” you said eagerly.

“These yellow sticks?” he asked pulling out one fry from the bag, and you giggle once again, he was learning you were quite easy to amuse.

“Yes, the yellow sticks, they’re potatoes with salt and soaked in hot oil to cook them” you smiled.

“That sounds unhealthy” he said, but he surely didn’t pass up the extra meal, and while he’d never admit it, but it was tasty.

“It is on the long run” you agreed. “But you don’t eat these every day. It’s more like… something you eat when you particularly crave it. Like a treat.”

“What’s on your bag?” Loki asked, a lot more agreeable now with a full stomach.

“Ah, you said you didn’t have much to do” you said and passed him bag. “It’s a portable DVD player and old movies.”

“I understood the word portable from that whole sentence” Loki said in an obvious tone.

He wasn’t new to technology, but unlike Earth, Asgard only used technology for practical purposes like travel and fighting. Never for entertainment.

“You can watch recorded over produced plays on the screen” you said adapting to what Loki might be familiar with. “Fury said you can’t have access to internet, so I thought since I don’t use this anymore it’d keep you entertained while Thor negotiates your freedom. And if you need something else, I could surely get it for you.”

Loki was trying to process it all while he followed your instructions to set up the devices you brought him. Now he’d finally give some use to the electricity plugins on his cell.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Loki asked.

“I don’t know” you shrugged. “You seem like you could use some kindness.”

“I’m a charity case?” Loki asked, not sure if he was thankful or offended.

“You wish. If I was charitable, I would’ve brought a fancy brand of fast food, and you’re a good junkyard to bring my old stuff” you snarled, making Loki laugh, for real this time.

Your cheeks flushed and were soon surrounded in a clod of silver mist. And when it disappeared you had vanished already.

Now that… Loki didn’t see coming. He had heard of your kind when he took control of some of SHIELD agents, humans with supernatural abilities. You were a mutant, and for the looks of it, one with teleportation powers. Now it made sense why someone seemingly so ordinary was in a place like this, flirting with a prisoner.

Interesting.

The next few days you kept bringing him food as usual, but two things had changed. One, the portions were bigger now, Loki now got to eat to a point where he was satisfied. Two, you joked around a lot less, in fact, you simply brought the food and stayed nearby in silence, and Loki had caught you staring at him with rosy cheeks.

So, you did fancy him… Truly interesting. And quite flattering too, he at least had to agree you were quite appealing to stare at.

“I watched one of your… Dee Bee Dees…” Loki started the conversation while he ate. “The one with the funny doctor…”

“That… doesn’t narrow it down much” you finally spoke. “Sarcastic asshole with a wounded leg?”

“He is sarcastic, but he treats patients with joy and laughter and goes against the rules. Like the pair of legs at the entrance” Loki specified. “It was a sweet story… I did feel bad for him when he lost his… you know.”

“Ah, yeah…” you said sadly.

For a few more days, the routine kept like that, you seemed a lot shyer than before and now Loki was the one pursuing your attention and with an arsenal of movies you had watched he always had a way to start conversation.

When he was sure he had properly understood your interest in him, he made his move.

While Loki wasn’t as flashy as Thor, he never had much trouble swooning anyone of his interest, with years of etiquette lessons and nourishing his mind with the most exquisite novels and books Asgard had to offer he knew how to charm anyone he desired.

And soon enough he was courting you. He recited for you the collection of the most exquisite verses he had memorized and casted his illusions of roses and butterflies for you to enjoy a romantic set up.

Soon Fury had two people demanding for his liberation. And since Loki had been in his best behavior Fury didn’t have an excuse to keep Loki locked up and while he had a tracker on his ankle and Asgardian magic bracelets capable of suppressing his magic.

You were there when they let Loki out and he made sure to hug you first. The more in love he seemed, the sooner he’d be truly free. You melted against his embrace and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug.

Loki felt a light tug on his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone out of his parents and Thor been so eager and happy to hug him.

“I had been dreaming of this…” you spoke softly. “And your hugs are even cozier than I imagined.”

That felt like a dagger to his heart. Why were you so sweet?

“Alright, Bambi, if you try something your little sweetheart will let us know right away, got it?” Tony warned him.

You wrapped your arms around Loki’s bicep pressing yourself against him.

“He’s gonna be perfect” you defended him. “And if I’m wrong you can lock me up as well for helping a criminal out.”

Second dagger. What kind of idiot were you trusting him so blindly? Could you really not see he just wanted his freedom?

Loki finally had a proper room, or something like that. He would be staying in the Avengers Compound when the Helicarrier landed… until then there was a room where he, Thor, and basically everyone stayed.

Your bed the one right above Loki’s. Loki sighed. Just a few more days. Loki laid down and saw you looking down at him, peeking from your bed with big sparkling eyes.

“Yes?” Loki said in his best sweet loving tone.

“S-Sorry…” you mumbled as your cheeks got red. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

“Aww, young love…” Kate cooed.

“SHUT UP! I’M OLDER THAN YOU!” you screeched and threw a pillow right at her face, making Loki smiled softly.

“You’re both babies…” Yelena grinned.

“Shut up, you hag!” you and Kate argued.

“You’re all babies…” Bucky corrected.

“DON’T STICK YOUR NOSE, YOU FOSSIL!” the three of you argued.

“I’m… not gonna join this argument being 1,500 years old” Thor laughed and soon eased the mood in all laughter again.

Meanwhile Loki wouldn’t stop thinking what you said to him. “I’m happy you’re here.” Third stab… How could you be so happy and attached to him so easily and quickly?

The next few days he had resigned to adapt to train with you. He had been a warrior all his life, but being a soldier was too boring for him. It was a lot of training, gym workouts, more training, and meetings. He saw you nodding off during the latter. Where did you pull the energy to play and joke around with him when you went to bring food to him while he had been locked up?

You yawned and rested against his shoulder as you dozed off during lunch once. You were so warm and trusted him more than he deserved. You seemed awfully comfortable around him.

Every spare moment you had was dedicated to him, you were awfully cuddly and touchy. Loki wasn’t used to this in the slightest. At first playing along seemed impossible. But your kisses were so gentle and tender, more often than not he found his eyes fluttering close and his hands wrapping around your waist in a loving way. Even sharing a room with a lot of people seemed more fun if he got to study your reactions.

“Take that!” you screamed as you and Kate smacked each other with pillows, but when a stray pillow hit Natasha in the back of the head, it was war.

Everyone was throwing and hitting each other with pillows until someone pushed you to Loki’s arms who had stayed out of the war as just a bystander. No one seemed to be paying much attention to him, but now you were.

Your face was beet red, and you were blabbering apologies if you had hurt him, (which, you hadn’t). But Loki simply smiled and grabbed your sides and started squeezing them, causing you to squeal and burst out laughing.

Oh, of course you were ticklish, he should’ve known. Hel, you irradiated this aura that just screamed “tickle me!” And as the God of Mischief, he was drawn to ticklish little things such as yourself, to make sure he could exploit every ticklish little inch of your giggly body. It had always been a pretty harmless way to ease his need to cause mayhem.

Soon the entire room was in fits of laughter since Loki had unintentionally inspired a tickle war.

“H-Hohohohoney! Pleahahahahase!” you begged Loki, “thahahahahat tickles!”

“So? I hope it doesn’t bother you, my dear” Loki purred in your ear as his fingers traveled up and down your ribs, causing you to screech. “I think I’d like to play with my pretty little toy some more…”

“Nohohohoho! Please! Hehehehehe! S-Stop it!” you giggled until you had proofed to reappear at the top bunk bed, right by the time someone else had surrendered and called truce.

Thor. His stomach was sore from laughing and he needed a break. But the big Asgardian was confident enough to not be affected by being the one to surrender in such harmless play fight.

“I’m nostalgic” Thor laughed. “Reminds me of the sleep overs with Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and Sif.”

“I wouldn’t know, I was never invited.” Loki said.

“WHAT?!” you gasped and threw a pillow at Thor’s head in Loki’s defense. “JERK! TO YOUR OWN BROTHER!”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked. “You rejected us every time.”

“What are you talking about? You never invited me, brother” Loki explained. “By the time I had found out, you were all locked in your chambers.”

“Sif and the guys always said you said no” Thor said. “That’s why I always made smaller sleepovers with just you and me. I thought you hated big groups.”

Loki never thought Thor had been clueless, if anything he thought it had been him who rejected him, it never occurred to him it was the rest that orchestrated Loki’s exclusion. It made sense in retrospect, they were more Thor’s friends, not Loki’s.

“I enjoy time to myself,” Loki agreed. “But I’ve never been against big events. I always thought it was you who didn’t want me near your friends…”

“Of course not, brother…”

“Don’t feel bad, Loki” Yelena said in a tone that eased the mood. “Nat used to have sleepover with friends and ban me from her room the whole night. But we’re sisters, adopted or not.”

“I said I was sorry, and I was 11 you resentful crybaby!” Natasha argued with a laugh.

You noticed that had hit a sensitive spot-on Loki and went to sit behind Loki to give him a hug from behind. And it was unexpectedly comforting, he sighed as you kissed his cheek. Growing more and more used to your doting affection, you were also rather good to read his mood by now.

It just made him feel more guilty, so he tried changing the subject.

“You poof around when tickled, hm?” Loki chuckled. “Noted.”

“Not just when I’m tickled, when I get worked up by almost anything…” you explained. “I can’t always control it.”

“I see… so, I get you all worked up…” Loki flirted, making you jolt and squeak with a red face. “Heh… I’m flattered.”

“What about you?” you asked when you calmed down, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Does something like that happen to you?”

“Mmm… my magic is also very tied to my feelings is mostly surges of magic when I’m pissed off.” Loki shrugged. “In a way, the source of my magic abilities come from my control of how I feel. Which is why Thor could never learn sorcery… he couldn’t ever keep calm and focus enough.”

It felt a bit of a cheap answer, his guilt told him you were always vulnerable with him. There was another thing…

Alright, now that no one was paying attention to you two.

“When I was little, I used to have a lot of nightmares, and my mother stayed with me and taught me this spell… it allows you to invite someone else to your dreams, to put it simply. She taught me that spell to help me with the bad dreams… And sometimes I still cast it involuntarily while I sleep. It’s… what’s the word? Automatic, at this point.”

“You haven’t used it since we met” you pointed out.

“There’s these preventing that” Loki wiggled the magic cuffs on his wrists, and you shrank sheepishly. “Maybe one day I’ll have you sleep visiting… who knows…”

You smiled too eagerly at the idea… it was painful to see the adoration in your eyes.

The next night you were chatting happily, you laid on the floor with your feet hanging on Loki’s bed. Surprisingly he didn’t mind too much, he found himself much more engaged on the conversation. He simply rested his hand on your shin, caressing it with his thumb.

But at some point during the chat his hand brushed by your ankle, something that should’ve caught his attention way sooner. A location tracker like his. He brushed his fingers along the band, and you jolted, quickly making a bad excuse before rushing out. A terrible liar dating the god of lies. How ironic.

“I didn’t know… I thought I was the only one with one of these…” Loki pointed to his tracker.

“All mutants and non-SHIELD affiliated have one” Tony explained with a yawn. “Basically, if you have superpowers, you have two options, be an agent or an avenger.”

“Or locked up” Loki concluded, and the way no one answered, confirming his suspicion.

“You’re gonna be joining us, right, brother?” Thor smiled.

“Do I have a choice?”

Loki chuckled, he had been thinking about this prior to this information, the fear of actually losing his brother when Thor was ready to leave him forever in Sakaar had been too great.

But what about you? You didn’t strike him the superhero style, a were a fragile and sensitive little thing, and he couldn’t picture you in the battlefield, but being a soldier was clearly taking a huge toll on you. You seemed perpetually exhausted living like this.

“Has my darling decided yet?” Loki asked, he didn’t plan on the pet names, but it felt weirdly natural as it rolled off his tongue. It felt right.

“Not before meeting you, we had tried, but I’d say with you two together… things have changed for the better.” Steve assured him. “It’s a relief though, you two would be great assets in the future, and the life at the compound is bit freer and more independent.”

For some reason, Loki smiled at the sound of that.

“It’s gonna be for the best” Bruce smiled. “Fury can be quite severe, and the soldier life isn’t for everyone…”

Loki couldn’t see you long term here, you’d be overworking yourself for a lifestyle too demanding and that you didn’t even like. It would be for the best to be an Avenger… at least that’d give you some more freedom.

By then, the mood had died down and everyone went to bed, turning off the lights way before you arrived. A few more minutes passed… and nothing. Loki considered going to find you when you opened the door, guiding your way with your phone’s flashlight. You had a messy damp ponytail, and baggy pajamas. You arrived and sat by Loki’s bed and immediately collapsed right beside him, invading his bed. He was ready to climb and use yours when you he felt a tug on his shirt.

“Let me stay with you…” you mumbled with your eyes closed, it seemed you still had some consciousness.

Loki nodded and laid down beside you, wrapping his arm over you, and tucking you under the bedsheets. He had to keep appearances. Yeah… Of course.

He studied you for a while. Your hair was soft, and it smelled like wild berries, shampoo he had started using as well because it smelled so nice. Your skin was soft and smooth, it was addictive to trace his fingers along your body. He traced circles along your side.

“Nooo… thahahat tickles…” you giggled and shifted in your half-asleep state, making something stir within Loki. “You can tickle me all you want in the morning, okay baby…?”

“Ohoho! Is that so?” Loki chuckled. “That’s dangerous thing to offer to the God of Mischief don’t you think?”

“’s okay… I trust you…” you yawned snuggling against his chest.

“Y-You do…?”

“You’d never do anything to hurt me…” you assured him, even with your brain fighting with all it’s might to not succumb to exhaustion.

Once his eyes adapted to the darkness, he stared at your face. Your features were gentle, with a pureness that only a heart that hadn’t been corrupted with cruelness and malice would have. It made him feel weak.

“I love you” you mumbled, kissing his lips before finally falling asleep with the most peaceful smile he had ever seen on anyone that was this close to him.

“I… I love you too…” he whispered and kissed the top of your head.

Now Loki genuinely wanted to stab himself through the chest, he deserved nothing less.

The next morning was the last time he’d be in the Helicarrier for a long time if he could help it. Both of you got the trackers removed and he was officially free. The magic cuffs were taken off of Loki and he immediately summoned a huge illusion that had a radius of a few kilometers as he stretched and showed off.

A huge double rainbow, oh how he had missed using his magic like this. He noticed your eyes sparkling in admiration.

Thor helped him unpack and you two were assigned neighbor bedrooms so the lovey dovey couple could stay close. You seemed ecstatic, you set your room and invited him to see it.

It was very much what he expected from you. Cozy and cute, just being inside made him want to lay down on your bed and sleep. And of course you had a pile of stuffed animals. He laid back on your bed, sinking in the mattress and fluffy covers.

Adorable.

“Honey bunny, I’m gonna go to the city alone today… don’t follow me” you warned him and proofed away before reappearing for a second. “And don’t snoop around my stuff! Love ya!”

And you disappeared in a gust of silvery white mist. Loki napped on your bed for a while, but… he couldn’t resist, he was curious by nature. He walked by your desk and saw the mirror of had a bunch of photos of him stuck to the board, he wasn’t smiling in any of them, and most had been taken him by surprise. Loki would’ve thought it weird, but the two of you were dating. And you only did what was normal for someone in a relationship. He smiled softly at how purely infatuated you were.

“Loki!” you called for him, so you had returned. He went to find you.

You had smiled so brightly as you jumped to his arms and showered his face in loving smooches.

“I missed you!” you smiled between kisses.

“You just left an hour or so…” he chuckled.

“It’s still too much time away from you!” you snuggled with him. “I missed this pretty face.”

“Heh…” he chuckled.

“I bought us something.” You smiled and handed him a golden bracelet with a round item on the middle. You kept the silver one. “It’s a distance touch bracelet.”

You touched your bracelet, and he felt his buzzing. Oh. He knew this couldn’t have been cheap. And you still didn’t hesitate to get it for him.

“Now you can feel me close, even if I vanish, or if we can’t be with each other.” You giggled.

His heart fluttered. How could there be someone so overly sweet? To him, of all people.

“Thank you…” he smiled.

Days passed and Loki’s sanity was evaporating in thin air. Guilt was eating him alive.

You were in truly, madly, and hopelessly in love with him. You wanted nothing but the best for him and you always showered him with love, affection and the sweetest kisses he had ever tasted. And worst of it all, he was falling in love with you. He deserved no love from you, but he had it… And it filled his heart with a warmth he didn’t deserve. Oh, you poor lovely thing, if you only knew how cruel his intentions had been to start your relationship.

He did what you wanted now, trying to make up for it. He didn’t want you to feel like you did all the job in a relationship anymore. Soon the photos were more couple y, of kisses and hugs, Loki took photos of you more as well. He invited you to read and nap with him.

He tickled you lots, and making you giggle in his arms as he held you close. He hugged you tight, trying to squeeze in all the love he had develop for the kind soul that had been nothing but sweet to him. In a wordless pray for your forgiveness.

He did everything that occurred to him would make you happy.

“No way! You’re ticklish?!” you gasped with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Terribly so, I can’t stand being ticked in between my ribs” he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, with you sitting on his lap. “My magic acts up on its own if I get overwhelmed, like you.”

“Really?” you giggled and caressed his sides. “Can I try?”

“For a kiss…” he smiled and puckered his lips for a smooch, which you complied with a huge grin. “I adore you… Fine, you got one minute to tickle my ribs.”

“Just one minute?” you whined with that lovely smile of yours.

“Thirty seconds?” he smiled.

“Eh?!” you whined. “One minute!”

“See how convincing I am?” he grinned.

“Oh, you—” you said and turned around to start poking and prodding his ribs, Loki couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Ack! Hehehehe!” he whined, you were too good at this, he was laughing his heart out. “S-Stohohohop! Hehehehe! I-It’s been a minute! Hahaha! S-Stop!”

“I’m not done with you, you pretty tease!” you giggled and kept prodding between his ribs.

“Oh yeheheah?!” he laughed and skittered his fingers along your belly.

You were squealing and giggling in the blink of an eye. But you didn’t stop tickling him.

“Hehehehe! Hic! G-Give up!” you giggled and squirmed as you prodded his sides.

“You give up! Hahahahaha!” he giggled squeezed your tummy and skittered his fingers along your armpits.

“Ack! Noohohohoho!” you whine and squeezed above his kneecaps, making him jump and ergo you fell off his lap and onto the couch.

“You’re in trouble…” he grinned and his fingers, poked, drilled, kneaded and scratch over every sensitive spot on your body, and it didn’t matter if you gave up. He didn’t stop until you were breathless.

Only then he stopped and held you in his arms.

“Remind me to not tickle you again, you’re sadistic” you smiled.

“You know it, darling…” he smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Did you have fun?”

“Mhm…” you smiled and leaned against him. “I love you.”

You were beyond ecstatic. You melted under all of his affection and more time he spent with you, the more he couldn’t deny his feelings for you.

He did it everything he could to make you happy. But nothing he did alleviated his guilt. He could only imagine the amount of heartache you would feel if you found out he had only used you to try looking better adjusted and be free, and that he had pretended to fall in love.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. He was going insane. He walked around the compound like a ghost during the night. He did a stop to throw up in the toilet.

“You’re awake,” you surprised him despite your gentle tone. “Is something bothering you?”

“N-No, love. I just wasn’t feeling very tired.” He assured you. “Don’t worry. Go back to sleep.”

You placed your hands on his hips and leaned closer to him the way you did whenever you were going to kiss him. But you took a little sniff—probably smelling his bad breath—you stopped and smiled at him with kindness.

“Mmm… Insomnia, hm?” you smiled and pulled him to the kitchen. “I know just the cure.”

You heated up water and prepared him a tea with honey. The warmth of the drink ran through him as the sweet drink got rid of the bad taste, and he sighed a tear streaming down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his face.

“I’ve done so many awful things… And…” he spoke softly. “I don’t know how to fix them… I don’t deserve any forgiveness…”

“Oh Loki…” you hugged him. “No one blames you… you didn’t mean it… I’ve seen your pretty heart, and you deserve all the love in the world… Gosh, if I could take all the pain, you’re feeling for myself, I would.”

“Please don’t say that…” he begged. He couldn’t handle anymore guilt, but he didn’t know how to tell you the truth.

You gently guided him to your bedroom and tucked him in your bed, wrapping your arms around him in a protective way.

“Forgive me love... Please forgive me…” he begged between mutters. “I take it all back… please… Please don’t hate me… please…”

“Shh…” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s all gonna be okay… I’m always gonna be here for you.”

               Between the warm tea, his exhaustion, the previous sleepless nights, your comfortable bed, and your loving touch… his body gave up on him and he fell asleep.

Everything was dark, and cold, covered in ice and a cruel wind. Loki had a good tolerance to cold, but he was freezing.

“Monster…” a voice echoed so loudly it made Loki’s ears ring. It was his own voice and it came from everywhere around him.

“Traitorous rat…”

“Murderer…”

“Beast…”

“Liar…”

“Frost giant…”

“Monster…”

“Manipulator…”

“Liar…”

“We finally had someone’s trust…”

“Of course, you just play around with others!”

Loki was completely surrounded by copies of himself, all at least twice his size, blue skin, Jotun attire, and eyes red like blood. True frost giants.

Loki simply took every blow and insult. He deserved them.

“Loki…?” a different voice called. “Is this what you meant by inviting someone to your dreams?”

No please… you couldn’t be here.

“Darling… wake up… please don’t be here…” Loki begged you. “Please…”

“I’m not leaving you here on your own…” you spoke and kneeled beside him.

Loki felt his body change, every muscle vanished leaving him as practically skin and bones. Small. Weak.

“Loki… what’s going on?! What’s happening to you?!”

Loki tried to shapeshift back to his natural look, but he had no control of his own body. At this point in life, he should be desensitized to nightmares where his magic didn’t obey him… but…

“Please… leave me here…” he spoke as he could, but he could barely hear himself.

“Don’t say that... What’s… what can I do for you?”

There was something about dreams, and especially Loki’s dreams, that always seemed to be extra dramatic. It must have been so confusing to be in one as an outsider.

Loki’s body changed again, he grew twice his usual size, and his body was blue and muscled. Exactly the body of a Jotun.

“STOP BEING SO GOOD TO ME! CAN’T YOU SEE I DON’T LOVE YOU?!”

“What?!”

What?! No! That wasn’t true…

Loki tried to take it back, but he was in autopilot. He was in the passenger seat of his own mind.

“I DON’T LOVE YOU! ARE YOU THAT GULLIBE TO THINK I’D FALL IN LOVE WITH A MORTAL?! I HAVE BEEN USING YOU!”

“No… no, you're not… You wouldn’t…”

“I JUST NEEDED A COVER, TO SEEM WELL ADJUSTED ENOUGH TO NOT BE A PRISONER! AND YOU WERE ANNOYING ENOUGH TO BARGE IN DEFENSE OF ME! I’V BEEN PLAYING WITH YOU FROM DAY ONE! DON’T YOU SEE YOU ARE JUST A TOY?! YOU’RE PATHETIC!”

The look on your face was heartbreaking. You looked crushed.

“I HAVE BEEN THINKING OF A WAY TO GET RID OF YOU! I CAN’T SLEEP AND I WANT TO THROW UP THINKING I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOU YET ANOTHER DAY!”

You curled up on the floor and Loki lifted you but your collar’s shirt.

“GET IT INSIDE YOUR HEAD! I COULD NEVER LOVE A MORTAL AS UNNERVING AS YOU!” Loki screamed at you before slamming you against the floor.

“NO!” Loki sat up with a gasp and his body drenched in sweat. He looked around and saw you curled up on the bed, your back facing him. “Love?! Thank goodness… I’m so— Love, w-what’s wrong…?”

You were stiff and you had a hand on the back of your head. Loki shifted and stretched a bit and saw your face. Your eyes were full of tears, yet he had never seen you with such a cold expression in your face.

“My love… and what’s wrong?” Loki placed a hand over your arm, and you slapped it.

“Why did you say that?” you asked him.

“I d-don’t know… I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Loki stuttered. “My dreams are like that…”

“No. I mean, what you said was really specific. Why…?”

“I don’t—I don’t know why I—”

“Tell me the truth, Loki.” You ordered him. “Did you, or did you not pretend to love me for your freedom?”

Loki stayed quiet. He didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth, but he didn’t have the heart to keep lying to you. With that confirmation tears started falling down your cheeks again.

“Y-Yes but I—that was before…”

“Get out…” you spoke.

“What? No, darling, listen… I…”

“I don’t want to hear you.”

“Please love… let me explain…” he tried holding you.

That made you snap. You started hitting him, being a human it was impossible for you to harm him, but not once in his life had he felt more pain.

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TALK TO ME!”

“Darling please…”

“I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND GET OUT OF MY LIFE!”

He had no strength to fight you, he was defenseless as you kicked him out of your room, slamming the door on his face.

There were a few faces popping out of their door to try seeing what had happened and that quickly retreated back to their rooms. Loki had no choice but to go inside of his own bedroom.

The next morning, he nearly tripped on his way out with a box by is door. It was full of books, quills, a coat, photos of you together. And… the silver bracelet that matched his own. It tore his heart to shreds. He didn’t feel as guilty anymore. But remorse and the memory of how brokenhearted you looked was even more sadistic. He heard you crying often from across the wall.

A few days later the others started giving him dirty looks. Knowing you and considering that this didn’t happen right away he assumed they had found out after heavy interrogation and now everyone knew he had used you. Even Thor seemed upset, not angry, but he had this… disappointment in his eyes.

“I hate dealing with moving companies” Tony sighed as they all sat for dinner. “But Fury wants to have our little Houdini enlisted by the end of the week. It’s a shame… The kiddos enjoyed being around each other.”

“Tell me about it” Clint sighed. “Kate is devastated.”

“Speaking of devastated…” Natasha said as she stood up, and Loki would’ve sworn she was shooting daggers at him with that glare. “See if I can be more convincing about eating something, otherwise Fury will have a corpse enlisting.”

You were moving out? To become a SHIELD agent? But you hated being a soldier. Had he hurt you so bad that you preferred that lifestyle and ruin your life forever… than being around him?

This all felt awfully familiar. Loki excused himself and went to his room and lock himself inside. He closed his eyes, and part of him wished that they’d never open again.

“Am I cursed?” Loki asked, choked up by the last bit of hope.

“No.” Odin responded the worst thing he could've said him. A curse would've been better.

Loki placed the casket down, weakly, it suddenly felt like a very... very heavy thing to carry. And the weight stayed there, right on his chest even after the casket had been placed back at the pedestal.

“Then what am I?” Loki asked softly, afraid of the answer.

“You're my son.” Odin answered, and Loki doubted his own magic since he couldn't detect dishonesty in his father's words.

Clearly that was a lie. So why didn’t his magic detect that? Loki felt rage spiral out of control like a boiling pot.

“What more than that?” Loki growled, still trying to keep his composure as he walked towards his father that was by the stairs at the other side of the corridor. “The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin looked him in the eye. Unable to deny it any longer. It had been to many years with that secret. As Loki walked closer, Odin just started at him in silence as Loki reached the stairs.

“No.” Odin finally said. “In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring— abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”

That felt like a dagger piercing the young prince’s heart. Out of all the things he was insecure about, it turned out he WAS an outsider. Out of all the things he could’ve been, he HAD to be a Jotun, a monster. Out of all the Jotun’s in existence, he was the son of the worst of them all. And out of all the reasons he could’ve been adopted for, was because even his own biological family didn’t want him… and his adopted family never told him any of this.

“Laufey's son...?” Loki finally managed to gasp out, he was choking up on his own tears. “Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.” Odin said, sounding more exhausted by the second.

“No!” Loki begged his father, knowing that Odin was a strategic warrior. There was always a meaning behind his actions. “You took me for a purpose, what was it?”

But Odin didn’t answer. The physical toll of delaying his Odin sleep to prepare Thor to rule, preventing a war, the emotional toll of having to banish Thor and now… having his youngest child doubt his love for him because of his foolish decision of not telling him the truth earlier were overwhelming him.

The All-King saw with pain how the little child that once smiled at him with love when he picked him in his arms after the battle now saw him with fear, pain, and resentment.

“TELL ME!” Loki demanded loudly, no longer capable of remaining calm.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace... through you.” Odin confessed.

That was the final blow to Loki’s poor heart.

“What…?”

A tool. All he had been adopted for was as an instrument of peace between Asgard and a race that everyone saw as blood-thirsty monsters.

“But those plans no longer matter.” Odin clarified.

“So, I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up… here, until you might have use of me.” Loki inquired in pain.

“Why do you twist my words?” Odin asked softly.

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning.” Loki urged, desperate to makes sense of what easily was the worst day of his life. “Why didn't you?!”

“You are my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.” Odin said softly, in a fruitless attempt to calm his poor child’s heart.

“Wh— B-Because I-I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?!” Loki asked, flooded by all the scary stories about the frost giants growing up. All those times he and Thor played heroes as kids fighting those monsters.

“Don't...” Odin begged as his strength slowly abandoned him.

But Loki couldn’t listen anymore. The grief was too great, and the feeling of betrayal didn’t allow him to trust Odin anymore.

“It all makes sense now! Why you favored Thor all these years.” Loki yelled as he started walking up the stairs to yell at Odin as the All-Father slowly lost his strength and started passing out on the stairs. “Because no matter how much you claim to “love” me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!”

Odin kept trying until his last second of consciousness to beg his son for help, forgiveness… anything. But he had been too weakened to dedicate his young boy some kind of love or reassurance as he fell prey to the Odin sleep, he had delaying for so long.

Now Loki encountered a similar dilemma. He had been stupid, dishonest, and selfish to someone who offered him nothing but unconditional love. He betrayed your trust and there was no way now that Loki could prove that despite his original intentions his love wasn’t any less real.

He laid down on his bed, with his arm draped dramatically over his eyes.

“Troubled, my son?” a voice spoke making Loki sit up.

“Father” Loki smiled softly. “I ruined it. I had the most beautiful love in my life… and I was stupid and lost it because of my own selfishness.”

“That sounds familiar” Odin chuckled. “You truly are my son, after all.”

“You had always been will always be my father…” Loki said the words he had denied for several years. “I never understand your reasons. Cruel as they were…”

“Not holding back against your old father, hm?” Odin laughed.

“Sorry…” Loki smiled softly.

“My original reasons were foolish, selfish, and even cruel as you rightfully… but I always hoped to do what would be best for the 9 Realms” he spoke. “But that didn’t mean the love I had for you wasn’t any less real. You are my son, regardless of the kind of blood that coursed through your veins.”

Loki smiled softly; it was weird. He knew Odin would have never say all that. But now, after growing up so much, he understood it wasn’t because he didn’t feel it, he had always been too proud and formal, too much of a king. And while imperfect, it was still his father.

“That’s why you never caught me lying when I called you my son or said that I loved you.” Odin spoke. “In my heart, you’ve always been my son.”

“I know, father” Loki smiled. “I’m sorry it took me so long to understand it.”

“I’m sorry I never told you before… I feared you wouldn’t take it well…”

“Me? I would never” Loki joked softly.

“We always loved you as our own” a female voice added making Loki turned around.

“Mother.” Loki spoke breathless. “I know… I know… I knew, I was just too scared I could’ve been wrong, and you didn’t…”

“You were too much of a charming kid not to love you” Frigga said compassionately. “Your little human surely thinks so too.”

Ah… that… Loki wasn’t so sure.

“I ruined it, I deserve nothing but the hatred and disgust I’ve earned from my darling.” Loki huffed out. “I manipulated, lied, and destroyed the trust of my love.”

“Dear, there’s nothing final in these matters…” Frigga smiled softly. “If that loved blossomed once, you may rescue it and nourish it again. But first… you need to apologize.”

“I don’t think I’m wanted anywhere near hearing range.” Loki explained.

“Do you think the love between your mother, and I always had a perfect relationship?” Odin smiled.

“Your father was too temperamental for that” Frigga intervened with a smile and both parents looked at each other with love. “But when you truly love someone and you make a mistake, you swallow your pride and make up for your wrongdoings.”

Loki smiled softly, he remembered it well. When Odin’s temper got the best of him because of the stress of being a king, Odin made sure to make up for Frigga know how truly sorry he was, and Frigga who already knew her husband’s temper was an expert on not letting her affect her, knowing it was never personal. She had truly been blessed with infinite patience given she dealt with three men with bad tempers and yet her kindness and loving nature knew no end. It was not rare to see Odin gifting Frigga fancy gifts and spend long hours apologizing and dedicating the day to her. It wasn’t the perfect arrangement, but no relationship was.

Loki chuckled softly.

“Thanks…” he smiled and both parents tended a hand to him with a smile. “I know what I have to do.”

Ready to say goodbye, Loki placed his hands on top of Odin and Frigga’s, and with that, the figure of his parents faded under a green light as Loki’s palms stopped glowing. Loki let out a little laugh as he wiped his tears.

His illusions had never been so benevolent towards himself, they were either torturous or for a fake sense of gloating and dissociation. But your compassion had changed him forever. He could use them for closure and to guide him with the stuff he knew but needed to hear. And… you deserved that at least.

He got up and went outside and went to a trip. It took him around an hour to get to the city and a couple more hours to get his several stops get several gifts. A lovely white bouquet of flowers, a box of your favorite chocolates, a necklace with a cute silver heart shaped locket and got it printed with a small photo, a copy of a photo he had carried from one of your first “dates” you got where you were giving him a small kiss in the cheek and cupped the other one, a symbol of your shared love.

On his way back, Loki held the original photo close to his chest and sighed. He prayed this would work as he was on his way to see you. He knocked on your door and hid his gifts behind himself, not even remembering he could’ve concealed them with his magic from how nervous he was.

His chest tightened as you opened the door, your eyes and nose were red, and your cheeks were stained with tears. Oh Norns… He had hurt you really bad.

“Love… Please… let me explain” Loki spoke softly.

“What do you need to explain, Loki?” you asked and sniffled, practically murdering him when you called him Loki instead of one of your lovely cheesy pet names. “That I was just a toy for you to play with and pretend that you loved me, so you’d be a free man? I got that quite clearly.”

You were ready to slam the door on his face, but he reached his leg to stop you. He nearly dropped one of your gifts. You looked at him confused, eying him up and down before sighing in defeat, opening the door he walked inside of your little room. He saw the little night table covered with used tissues and the bed’s decorative cushions were all over the place. It broke his heart.

“What do you want, Loki?” you asked tiredly as you sat on the bed, placing a cushion on your lap and against your chest.

“My darling, I was the biggest, most cruel and inconsiderate imbecile of all 9 Realms” he said, kneeling before you as he handed you the bouquet of flowers. You gently placed the flowers on your lap, still looking at him.

“It is true, that I was looking to just find a relationship to pretend I had adapted to living on earth” he spoke. “It was a selfish, shallow, and dishonest reason to make you mine… But I did it. It was heartless and there’s no excuse or reason for you to forgive that. But I beg of you to stay here… never speak to me again if you need, but don’t settle to a life of misery just to avoid me. I will happily accept being locked up in a dungeon for a hundred years, so you don’t see the likes of me again…”

He handed you the chocolate, and your gaze softened for a second as you saw the chocolate, he remembered which ones you liked the most. You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle squeeze to your hands let you know Loki still wanted to speak.

He had caused all of this for not telling you the truth, and now he wanted to fully bare his soul to you now.

“You offered me boundless kindness, patience despite my flaws, understanding to my pain and sins of the past, laughter like I hadn’t enjoyed before, you fed with the most delicious and warm foods I had ever eaten, you showed me the concept of dates and you bared me completely vulnerable to your touch and heart and you bared yourself completely to me without fear of me…” Loki continued, as tears streamed down his face, drowning in regret. “And all I did was play with you and betray the trust your selfless heart gave me without asking for anything in return.”

He placed his forehead on your knees and sobbed, completely ashamed of what he had done to you. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he felt like he’d die without you. And he’ deserve it.

“I don’t care” you finally spoke, and he looked up, he saw the tears streaming down your face. “You’re the God of Mischief and Lies, there are countless stories of how you lied and manipulated to get away with anything you wanted… I should’ve expected I’d be just that.”

“No— No, darling!” Loki held your hands and pressed his lips against your knuckles. “No, my sweet, you— I was selfish. I wanted a cover up, yes, but what I found was love, I found the butterflies in my stomach you always speak of. I found the warm of your hands lingering on my skin after our dates. I found myself awake during the night sighing over those lovely eyes I’ve now so cruelly filled with tears…” Loki spoke softly.

You were shaking in your place as you did your best not to cry and interrupt him. He brushed his finger along your cheek as in appreciation of your effort.

“None of what you heard that night was true in my heart…” he assured you “I never felt so disgusted I wanted to vomit; it was guilt that was killing me from the inside… knowing I was hurting such a beautiful flower.”

He handed you the heart locket and you opened it, seeing the photo made you sob as silently as you could.

“I was selfish and a liar. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me and want nothing to do with me again. But please know that my heart beats for and because of you only.” He spoke. “I fell hopelessly and irredeemably in love with you. I swear that on my life.”

You looked at him and smiled, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed now freely and unrestrained. Time seemed to stop for Loki as he hugged you back, taking in your scent and caressing you. Tears fell down his face and he held you, afraid you’d disappear if he let go of you.

You forgave him. He didn’t think he’d ever be so lucky to find a kind soul that would forgive even his worst mistake. But he found it, you were kind enough to do so. Your wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug and Loki was able to let all the pain and guilt go… He couldn’t undo his mistakes, but he could be better, and he wanted to be his best self for you.

“Thank you… Norns, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he repeated over and over between whispers and tears as he held you tight.

You sat up straight and cupped his face and laughed softly as you still cried happy tears.

“You’re gonna have to buy me a new box of tissues, you booger” you joked softly with a sniffle, and pressed your forehead to his and grabbed a tissue to blow your nose.

“I’ll give you the entire world if you so desire, my love” he spoke with a gentle smile. “Just say the word.”

“I don’t need the world” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “I have everything I need right here.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” he chuckled softly as he grabbed a tissue to wipe his tears and blow his nose. “I’m a disaster and somehow I still found the most precious little dove all for myself.”

You held him tightly in a hug… in silence for a few minutes before you spoke again.

“Did you think I was annoying when we first met?” you asked with a stern look on your face. “I want the truth.”

“Truthfully… you were a nightmare…” Loki admitted in a soft playful tone.

“HEY!” you whined and dug your fingers into the crevices of his ribs making him burst out laughing. “I said honest, not mean!”

“Ehehehe! Lohohohohove, let me finish!” he giggled, letting you have this, it was the least he could do. “P-Please, s-stohohohop that! Not there!”

You smiled and went to tickle his belly. Oh, you had really not liked that.

“Plehehehehehease, dahahaharling! I surrender!” he laughed and did his best to not squirm.

“Fine… what is it?” you asked, as you sat sideways on his lap, already happily cuddling with him.

Thank whatever superior force that was out there… Oh, you’re a wonderful blessing.

“You’re a nightmare turned into a dream” he clarified and he didn’t even bother fighting the urge to squeeze you tightly.

“You have 3 seconds to explain how that’s a compliment o I’ll tickle you until you puncture a lung.”

“Ihihi— I mean like, when you start having a bad dream… but it turns around as the most wonderful of dreams, those that you still think about after waking up.” Loki said, and as those words he was sure he had fried his brain because he didn’t make any sense.

But that was enough for you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled.

“C’mon… don’t be mad at me for being foolish and wrong” he smiled as he squeezed you tight. “Surely you thought I was insufferable at first as well, we’re so different after all.”

You smiled and shook your head.

“I love my pretty prince” you smiled and picked a tissue yourself to clean your face. “Flaws, differences, and all.”

“Do you, now?” he grinned cheekily. “I sure am a lucky one to be called yours.”

“A Loki one” you giggled, and Loki made a scowl of disgust. “Sorry! I thought it too late when I said it and— hehehe!”

“Oh, that was awful— C’mere… you!”

“W-What?! NO! NOHOHOHOHO! LOHOHOHOKI, STOP IHIHIHIT!”

As he made you laugh and held you against him, he couldn’t doubt how fortunate he was to be so undoubtedly yours.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #lee!loki #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

[hearted-anon]

A knight's foolish play

Words: 1683 Note: For @a-wild-seungberry T/w: Use of tools, yes Lee: Know Ler: Hannie

Lee Know has once said on a fancall, he was not a princess, but a queen. A sign of royalty that he wore high above his head, even if it sometimes crumbled with his kind and playful demeanour. Regardless so, his chin was high in the clouds, his eyes sharp with an intelligence that none of his peasants would question, lest they wanted to be put on the stake.

"Minho-hyung, I didn't know you were this great at acting!" Han called out beside him, his smile wide with his cheeks puffed up. Of course, Minho wasn't actually a cruel ruler, but under his watchful gaze of acting, the cat wasn't hesitant to have your blood served as fine wine in a golden goblet of what remained of you to drink for supper if he could.

"It's king Minho to you, Han Jisung." Lee Know hisses out coldly, pointing the end of his metallic blade at the younger's throat, where his adam apple popped up. The quokka's eyes widened in amazement and admiration, wondering how he manages to keep up the cold personality. Meanwhile, as much as Lino enjoyed being pampered and spoon fed on a sliver platter, he felt incredibly guilty for treating his members like peasants, nothing but rats to stomp on and a rug to walk upon to his throne.

However, with being an idol comes with great responsibility, even if it meant he had to act as if he was going to slice those that dared to defy his order, those that dared to duel with his sliver blade would fall spell to his iron grip, head severed onto a plate for his next meal.

"I mean...King Minho, we still have a small break before your next scene, would you like me to be my accompany to your room?" Jisung giggles softly, kneeling down before royalty himself with a shy smile. Minho's heart fluttered in embarrassment, knowing that outside of their acting they were good friends, yet Jisung insisted on treating him this way. With a soft chuckle, Lee Know lifts his blade to tilt the younger's head towards his piercing gaze, one that froze anyone that came in its path.

Still, the quokka held his ground, gripping the fabric of his tights in his hands, crumpling it slightly in all his hidden anxiety. To the 'king', he was nothing but a lowly knight, a servant to his call with a duty to serve and protect his majesty.

"Come then, let us trek the halls of my castle, Knight Jisung." Minho caves in, sheathing his blade into its respective scabbard, his cape draping across the floor to guide the knight along its path, his intentions clouded by the thick fabric of his clothes along with the golden crown that strode in path with him.

Jisung followed behind with a twinkle in his eyes, squealing when his blade almost fell out at the speed he ran towards his majesty. He waddled timidly beside him, Minho really did look intimidating, with narrowed slits of his eyes glaring at anyone that came to block his path, his cape covering his shoulders and down his back to symbolise his pride and confidence, and the crown that was atop his head, worn proudly by his owner.

"Sweet cheeks, why the long face? Y'know it's just acting..." And just like that, 'King Minho' was no longer present, replaced with the Lino the members knew and loved. His face softened into a downturned smile, keeping up his code of conduct in chivalry despite the acting having already ceased. Jisung just stared with wide eyes, his brown eyes reflecting his passion to stick to his role, the armour that his wore was his vow to protect the older no matter what may come between them.

Minho let out a hearty laugh under his breath, creaking open the door to his room. The younger took hesitant steps into the room, both of them absorbed into their roles. Escaping the mundane walls of dancing their life away to songs on a stage that encapsulated everything but the singers themselves, another ruthless night onto their bodies.

"Majesty first." Jisung hums with a bow, making the 'King' smile as he waltzes in. He tosses his cape on the floor, settling the shiny crown that he was reluctant to tear from his head, but placed it onto the night stand before tossing himself onto the bed. He was very much tired, exhausted from having to maintain his icy and blood lusting demeanour in front of the camera, he could sometimes see true fear in the member's eyes as they quake beneath him, making the cat kneel and beg for forgiveness afterwards, even if assured it was alright.

"You tired, my majesty, you need a massage from your peasant knight?" Minho grumbled at the use of royalty terms, he hated it. In his eyes, Jisung was more royalty to him than himself, and so were the members. When the knight felt the awkward tension that spread throughout the room, he was quick to settle down his scabbard onto the rug carefully, afraid to damage any fabric of hair that was held dearly by the 'king'.

Hands wrapped around the cat's waist gently, hoisting him up from his previous position of suffocating himself in dozens of pillows that costed millions, at least in the set it did. The cat shrieked and hissed, squirming under the knight's hold until eventually melting into a puddle when his head was settle onto the younger's lap, letting a hint of a smile on his face graze him.

"Would you like to indulge in some banter?" Jisung smiled innocently down at Lee Know, who gazed back up in confusion. It was only until hands landed under his arms to his armpits did the majesty fall prey to such childish things.

"N-No! I don't wish to- WAHAHAIT! PLEHEHEHEASE JISUNG!" Minho shrieked when the fingers got to work in scratching his blunt nails over the surface of his armpits, at least the fabric of his costume made it more bearable. Too bad, as when he felt the thick buttons of his shirt unbutton he was doomed.

"Your majesty! You didn't tell me you looked so defined with muscle!" The quokka pretended to be in awe as he looked upon Minho's bare waist, his thighs trapping his arms that once had freedom now no more. The older turned a bright red, getting oh so flustered at the use of still being treated like royalty even after the set, and boy was Jisung having a field day with this information.

"Nohoho don't! Plehehehase- ACK!" The cat squealed when he felt something cold placed onto his waist, eyes widening in horror when he realised it was body oil. He tugged at his arms under Han's thighs, shaking his head with giggles when it was rubbed all over his waist and spine.

"My majesty deserves only the best of massages in the kingdom." The knight mutters with a smile, pressing a tiny kiss to the cat's forehead to soothe him for what was to come. Minho simply shook with giggles, shrieking when fingertips traced along his sides, a mess before it begun.

"I ahaham nohot a king! Stahahap saying thaHAHAHT! JISUHUHUNG!" Minho howled with laughter when fingers rubbed at clawed at his ribs, the oil just making his skin all the more easy to move around, and slide right in between the crevices. The younger hummed an acknowledgement through the laughter, smiling down at the cruel 'king' torn apart at his fingertips.

"Yes you are! And I treat royalty with the utmost respect, excuse me." Jisung tutted, pretending to be offended that Lino dared speak himself so lowly. As punishment, a finger plunged into his navel, the other kneading into his waistline. Minho threw his head back in hysterics, crinkling his eyes with witch-like cackles he was sure the entire castle could hear.

The older thrashed and squirmed, the oil right in his navel making it unbearable as the finger swirled and scratched gently, making him go hazy with laughter, while the kneading on his v-line made him feel like he was going to ascend with crazy laughter.

"ARGHAHAHAAHAH! STAP! PLEEHEHEASE MAHAHAKE IT STOP!" Minho screeches with hysterics, his ears burning with blush from how badly he was being torn apart by something as simple as tickling, torn to pieces while he had beheaded several peasants that defied his rule. His grown hair sprawled across the younger's thighs messily, too much squirming to be kept neat and tidy.

"You're so cute, we should do this more often." The quokka mumbles with a giggle of his own, earning a very strong opinion and shout of no in return, making him smile. He loved when the older let loose like this, laughing so carefree without thinking twice of whom he affected, he wished things remained like that every time.

"NOHOHOHO! NO MORE! AHAHAH-!" Eventually, the older's laughter cut off into silent cries of mirth, kicking out his legs as he tried everything in his power to squirm away from the agile fingers that glided across his torso torturously gently, sending him into quiet, ticklish agony as tears streamed down hs face.

Alas, everything has to come to an end, Jisung pulling his fingers away to properly massage the oil in, earning a lot of giggling and protesting. He still held the rouge cat down, just in case its claws would extend for a hunt of revenge, something he often worried about whenever he messed about in playful banter.

Pulling him into a tight hug, the younger embraces the older in safe, warm cuddle, buttoning back up his cloak when he felt Minho shiver and shudder. They both definitely didn't fall asleep in a tranquil of peace, and both definitely weren't cooed over and nagged by the members for missing their shoot, with cuddles.

The knight was definitely 'burnt at the stake' the next day by his majesty. Worth it though, says Knight Jisung as he screamed out another squeal of desperation when his majesty finds his ribs interesting.

#..? #them #lee!know #ler han #ler jisung #skz tickle #stray kids tickle #ydhsaljds #kpop tickle #idk

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi i wanted to know if u have any good book recommendations? they can be about anything rlly i just want to become smarter

hi anonymous;

you:re as smart as you need to be, and really: you should read books out of passion (and fun) in lieu of pure raw erudition--mostly cause i think that is a fast way to burn yourself out by forcing yourself to read through dry garbage you don:t really want to read (this sounds loaded, but countering what i:m saying: if you are suddenly passionate about pursuing Pure Mathematics and want to just dive into math textbooks: then pursue that passion :-)) );

i do have recommendations, though! but i don:t think they:ll make you smarter; my favorite book as a kid was Howl's Moving Castle (hated the movie, garbage), it:s just a very fun fantasy book and it rekindled my love for reading after a long stint of trying-to-be-smarter by pursuing philosophical trash;

i really really really loved Squee! and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac as a kid, too; my dad sent them to me as a gift when i was really young & probably one of the only things he sent me that i deeply loved; i wish i still had those books, i:ve really been wanting to re-read them;

read Crying of Lot 49 this year and it moved me a lot--made me really interested in Pynchon as a whole; I'd rope a handful of American authors into this actually: Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Flannery O'Connor's A Good Man is Hard To Find, Cormac McCarthy's Outer Darkness were all amazing surprises to me that just made me really appreciate American authors (sort-of doofy but I really did just appreciate this southern tradition of writers in an inspiring sort-of geographical way, like: I know these lands! I am soaked in this dust! I have this same odd bigotry in me!) -- but I think all of those works/authors are great and you probably can't go wrong with anything any of them have wrote;

I'm currently reading My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante and really enjoying it; the cover/name makes you think of some harlequin romance novel but it's basically a femcel manifesto on hating someone so obsessively that it is indistinguishable from love; I'm currently listening to Stephen King's Duma Key and enjoying it--I'm listening through a lot of King books, just finished From a Buick 8 (loved it) (I'd rope King into the 'loving American authors' thing, cause he was a part of my culture growing up, you know? as doofy as it is, I'm kinda happy to have grown up alongside his career and output and it's been fun to finally delve into his stories);

also finished Nabokov's Pale Fire recent-ish -- if you like stuff like House of Leaves you might like it (it sounds sinful to compare that book to Nabokov but it's pretty apt, too); it's one of the few books I've read that actually made me laugh, and Nabokov is a beautiful writer, and Pale Fire is a book with enough depth that I think a reader could go through it several times and pluck out something completely new each time.

I don't think any of these would make you smarter; funny as it is: I think the KJV Bible is a beautiful read but I don't think I'd suggest it outside of attending church wholly because part of the poetry of the Bible comes from studying the context of a passage and all the lenses that come with it (I'd actually consider studying the 'academic biblical' analysis of the Bible as a church itself, not in contrast with church apologia); you can find a lot of odd inspiration in the works of prophets ala Mary Baker, Ellen White, various Catholic saints, Joseph Smith, Hubbard (wink, but sincere, I like Hubbard), etcetera--but I feel like inspiration or passion leads you to those works rather than some dull desire to soak up another persons passions in hopes that'll saturate you with something you've been missing. Ex: if you want to be a Christian Scientist: read Mary Baker; but likely if you wanted to, you'd already be reading--as circling as that sounds.

Take care, anonymous.

[haunted-xander]

"Mickey left Aqua in the Realm of Darkness for 10 years!" Mickey had NO IDEA where Aqua was for 10 years and when he DID find her he 1) wasn't prepared for it in the slightest and didn't even have a plan for how he would escape safely and 2) she literally told him to leave her behind to make sure he and Riku could go home safely. After which he was caught up in a shit ton of other things to take care of and didn't have the resources or time to launch a rescue.

#i will not stand for king mickey slander!!!!!! he wouldve saved her the first time if he could!!! dont let anti-aqua fool you!!!! #this isnt even mentioning the responsibilities he has as both a king and a keyblade master and all that entails btw #he did what he could!!!! he is a good king and a good friend!!!!!!!!! #anyway so i finished replaying 0.2 #mickey mouse #king mickey #aqua #kingdom hearts #kh #xander rambles

[iguessitsjustme]

Uea’s mom let her biases destroy her love for her son.

King’s mom let her love for her son destroy her biases.

#bed friend #bed friend the series #bed friend bl #and you’ll never guess which of them is sad and lonely and now spends her days crying #also there’s an element of control there too #uea’s mom did not love him and therefore tried to control him into someone she could love #king’s mom loved him and therefore tried to control his life to be what she considered good and what could lead to happiness #and ultimately it came down to king’s mother loving her son enough to believe him when he said uea would make him happy #uea’s mom wouldn’t believe him if he told her the sky was blue #because she let her biases and bigotry cloud her judgement of uea and deemed him untrustworthy #and when she was forcibly faced with the truth about her husband she couldn’t handle it #she lost everyone #cause you know uea’s sister will move out as soon as she can #because she will now have a support system outside of her mother’s house #anyway I hope the next episode we have king’s mother giving uea a hug #by god he deserves it

[guideaus]

love these two pages being right next to each other

#personal #mty #dunward having the chance to have allies help him but bc hes a piece of shit repeatedly used them as bait #though it turns out guideau and ashaf being allies on the same page help overall in the end #oscar being disappointed he's basically still trying to do what he did before he was dethroned. even w/o his power then #oscar questions him and dunward shuts him down. #then the immediate cut of guideau unprompted asking what love is. #but our lovely protag is fucked up. not a beast as dunward's a vampire king of the night but something else (i'm betting on tool/demon rn) #but she has no clue and it could be a sword or spell or whatever magic shit. this arc already goes out of its way to compare dunward to her #but unlike dunward her pride is not insurmountable. she doesnt go 'idk what that is and idc.' from the literal start she tries to assist #falvell bc some guy said it could lead to the curse breaking. #dunward's problem is his refusal to respect others thru connection. appreciating family/friends/etc. #guideau's is not caring/being interested/being rash. here guideau's going out of her way to ask ashaf first. he displays a 'lesson' #she states her boundaries afterward after following ashaf's 'love'. #i do not like dunward but he does make guideau look good 👍

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh lmfao edited to add. the thirty tags are maxed out but i have to work in the wordplay of: call this post-it notes

speaking of [happening to think about, then for a separate reason talk about, the film “stand by me,” an adaptation of the stephen king short story “the body”] last night, & tumblr ads reminding me, i did turn around after listening to the podcast ep extensive, research enhanced analysis / discussion of specifically the book like hey yeah yknow what. i’ll watch the It films; not the miniseries / the one with tim curry, which i saw the first half of but wasn’t really inspired to commit to the latter half. and you Know like yeah i’m truly interested in the choice to build on [stephen king kicking his legs like “whaaat are some Problems kids could have.....um being a girl.....being jewish.....having a stutter.....”] with “what if someone was gay or some shit” like yeah right on, which idk that steve ever wrote into any vaguely primary characters even though it’s markedly made textually relevant. and the cultural alignment for kleinsen enjoyers is still very funny. i forgot about even the arm cast business till halfway through. even the [break it again] joke kind of manifested lmao

anyways the point is i’m like, my two primary modes of [this experience] being expressed via [mad men meme In The Cinema seriously considering the material] and [the shot of that guy in the alternate titanic ending where he’s like ahahahaha throwing his head back and the camera is overhead zooming out a little bit] and the like Oh Hey. This Is All Coming Together? kind of [that madman cinema meme] moment hit in The Second Part because it’s like, it’s Remarkable for a stephen king story to have Adults Who Are Friends. which is where it can be cross referenced with Stand By Me, which is about kids who are friends, but Framed by like, this story is written in the future by the main kid, who wanted to be a writer & now is, mostly about his friendship with this one other kid who was like “hey man you can & should be a writer. believe” and that classic [stephen king High Concept stories] central plot impetus / definition which is “the one where some kids go on a trek to find/see a dead body” and then ending with Adult Main Kid with that classic / standout remark “i never had any friends like the ones i had when i was twelve. god, does anyone?” which is included even in the film via seeing him type it out on bulkier ye old computer terminals while his kid is now twelvish i guess and talking to a friend. after also musing on like, yeah that bestie who hyped me up the most and who i saved in turn, with a gun, tragically died. iunno where those other two kids in the group are, living kind of underwhelming lives out there probably but whatever. lmfao like man i dunno write them a letter, call them, you could do a little digging here and get in touch. but yeah it’s not gonna be Exactly The Same as when you were kids, nor exactly the same as it was when things aligned to have a brief but dramatic adventure, nor when you Could just all spontaneously decide you wanna go walking & camping to find a body & then just up & do that. but like, you can consciously make & maintain friendships i prommy my man lol. like “it’s great when things align so you Happen to have these friends when you’re twelve and you all like offer each other emotional support and can understand each other like nobody else can. but then you Will all just drift apart” like, i mean, will you. you can have friendships beyond what you just Happen to have / hope that the magic alignments will just continue falling into place for you so that those friendships still exist

and probably part of it is that it’s really mostly About the two kids who are friends even though there’s four of them, i.e. the protagonist & the moral support bestie, as well as the fact that this is a short story so there’s presumably only so much time to focus on characters at all really or delve into any setup and bg lore and whatever all else, i dunno. but thinking how it’s like, oh hey, in It it’s kind of its own serendipitous alignment of elements there to be like, here’s a group of adults where it’s peak relevant that they’re friends, for once. because afaik that really just doesn’t happen in sking stories, like, yeah adults kind of have friends but it’s Not Very Deep / it’s just kind of convenience about working together moving plots along & it’s like yeah uh i don’t fucking know i guess we see each other / hang out for dinners or post dinner drinks together or join forces about whatever fucked up shit and just talk about that, mostly....and probably people are just dropping off like flies eventually, the protagonist man of that [sooo many protags who are just some fuckin middle aged guy who’s a writer] type, and it’s also in part just because like, characters don’t really matter that much / have to be particularly distinct / Are Disposable when plenty of the point is to go “was that fucked up or what?” about whatever’s happening, so yknow you go “there was once just some fuckin guy, i dunno, he probably has a wife he’s paternalistically protective of but maybe also resents and maybe a kid or two or something, whatever....” like, being the main character doesn’t really matter, it’s just this avatar through which we are told a story of some fucked up shit and to whomst any fucked up shit can even happen, being other characters also really doesn’t matter

so it’s like huh, stand by me / the body as obviously this Ode To Twelve Year Olds’ Friendship And How Your Emotional Support Of Each Other Defines The Entire Path Of Your Life Though Mostly For The Main Character, Everyone Else Fucked Off Or Whatever like right yeah, but with that difference of how like clearly as an adult this isn’t gonna be about this guy going like “hey yeah where are those still living scamps today,” he’s reminiscing only, he’s talking about how he now doesn’t have any friends like the ones he had when he was twelve....then what changes in It is like, hmm how are these adults where the fact they’re friends actually is peak relevant? how does one remain friends with even Any childhood friends there huh. and then the fact it works out like that is like aha, well it’s because they don’t lmfao. that everyone happens to scatter to the winds at some point when it maybe will eventually rear its head amongst even their own adult guardians like hey, yknow, maybe let’s not live in murderville. or coincidence. whatever. where the point is that like oh also, everyone just magically forgets the goings on as kids including the existence of their friends, but is about to be reminded of them / remember all that, for a specific external reason rather than [adults are like hey let me try getting in touch with that mf] and already plot and magic is relevant to all of this. they’re not going to have gotten together for the shittiest high school reunion if not for the connection of Friendship, this is about adults but it’s about that childhood plotline still, so Twelve Year Olds’ Friendships still stands / is relevant, so we can even fathom these adults having a connection, b/c yes they Didn’t have it as they got older there, but now they’re jumping back into it actually, b/c magic, and because also this is Directly About (Childhood) Trauma which was also like, hey damn, even outside the stephen king oeuvre & its tendencies (solid & wretched), this is also transcending grievances i so often have with Horror, as someone who likes horror and doesn’t like horror but likes horror but doesn’t like it, and just like. questionable employment of [you Are bothering to focus on Character, and their emotional arcs being entirely relevant to the story here] when sometimes it’s like, do you need a story? the strength of horror shorts to just go “was that fucked up or what.” do you need the characters with the emotional arc relevance at all, or is it just a little avatar walking around with enough vague motivation to have / see / make fucked up shit happen? are they particularly characterized to play into some Metaphor, what’s that metaphor, is it shit, is the execution of it shit. and oftentimes Trauma is just like, idk, it’s like well here’s this person’s Weakness, and it being horror that’s more likely to make it into a Fatal Flaw, like way to have trauma you dumbass, if you were so weak as to fail to just get over it already / Overcome it, you just might be killed for it

annoying, shallow and hackneyed, insulting, etc, and it’s also like, the Individual Focused emotional journey like and here this character who’s been weakly propped up by the Stronger people supporting them will have to go through the crucible of being alone, facing down their Issue like their trauma, and getting through it in this big dramatic one and done way so they can finally stop being a pussy and an obstacle to others. or else fuck it up & die. and it’s like do you know how this works lmfao (no) why shouldn’t the support help. why should it Have to go away. why shouldn’t everyone be crowdsourcing their emotional support amongst their group lmao and never needing to “overcome” it Forever, alone. and that’s at least mostly what gets to go on in It lmfao, like, so obviously this is About Childhood Trauma. whereas It = any of the forces that make people act in ways that create, facilitate, or simply passively allow trauma. (or just some shit that really fucks shit up sometimes i guess.) and you have kids who get caught Alone getting got. but then you have a larger group of some twelvish year olds who are like alright fuck this then, and that’s enough to get through it, the same way that naturally in the less magical / more literal realm of their lives, that friend group & joining forces & providing this like actually (relatively) safe and supportive environment amongst themselves is what protects them & makes everyone a lot more of a force to be reckoned with than they are when out / caught on their own. and it just doesn’t happen to be about choosing to write about like, and then all these kids got picked off one by one anyways, despite their efforts, f. which like i guess it could be, but when the Point is so Directly about the emotional support some kids get from each other / that they Are crowdsourcing protection re: their individual vulnerabilities, that wouldn’t really emphasize that Point so much if regardless of the [having a friend group] everyone was fucked anyways. or the fact that like, again, this is About trauma and what can create it and how that can persist and all, the Magic Rules are about the emotional component of it all, when it’s like, oh this just so happens to be a magic murder entity that’s picking off kids but also prefers to torment them and/or like idk takes the route of going “oh you’re gonna hate this” and hooks up their consciousness via usb cable to the zillionth dimension void & then sips their life force through a crazy straw, or, as it would be to clown entities, a normal straw, and i dunno, that if the usb is unplugged vs eternal living death then the torment juice can give people the interdimensional premonition / telepathy across space & probably time shine(tm) like good for them i guess. call that hypervigilance?

and then that like, into the Adults timeline, not only is there this cheat like woops a stephen king story where adults are friends b/c they’ve reconnected the usb cables where the [friends like the ones i had when i was twelve] has now become immediately relevant and active again, i was like, mad man cinema contemplation meme a bit confused going into the second half until i realized some particular fact of the plot And it was slowly like....we’re kind of goofin huh, is this Being Funnier? b/c i mean, the first one wasn’t not ever funny or like otherwise not super solemn & heavy, and also i’m just Used to horror to the point it’s not gonna like bother me probably, i was watching alone and turned off the lights b/c i couldn’t adjust my screen’s lighting levels & the overhead light in here was gonna create glare via the mirror behind me, and i didn’t think anything of it at any point, i had to also be like “@ me, okay stop saying ‘me’ the moment you realize anything [A Scary Moment] is transpiring for no especial reason,” and yknow, it’s like a roller coaster to me, or i’d say like being tickled except actually i hate that one & will start physically fighting lol, where it’s like yeah aaaaaa but it’s fun & i’m Humored really, i’m experiencing the [horror & comedy are two sides of the same coin], when i’m startled or going like oooh that was, to be sure, creepy, it’s still like, ahaha, i’m figuratively tickled, going :] at the screen, i especially liked the same [ooh hehe yeah that’s eerie] type of moments in both halves like yeah very [your standard marble hornets enjoyer] of me....but anyways so then it did take me an extra few moments maybe in the second half like oh is this Markedly More Humorous? oh it is, then....sort of unexpected but then it immediately makes sense and was Fascinating like, oh, this is so In Conversation With the first movie and with the Overall Story here lmao. like, we are illustrating the Perspective Shift, the [kids timeline] is still relevant and defines everything that’s going on, but they Are adults now and That itself is relevant. b/c otherwise it’s like, it Is just the same situation played over again lmfao like damn we were the [kids fight & defeat a murder sewer clown monster] and now we’re the [adults fight & defeat a murder sewer clown monster]. and Of Course It Makes Sense for there to be overall more Drama for the kids, who are more so just living & immersed in their normal lives in that storyline, and of course, Are Kids, where like anything “was that fucked up or what” that’d happen would be more intense & threatening, and sure applying that perspective like, not only “yeah i’m just experiencing some media, but if that was really happening in life that’d be fucked up, if it was happening for real to me, i’d be like, whoa uh oh holy shit aaaa” lmao, and then an Additional layer of “and if i was twelve” like “yeah aaaa oh shit” way compounded by that, naturally. 

but then i’m Also like, listen, i’d be more like halfway through my 27 yr time jump but i’m the adult with cptsd lmao and so i’m Madmen In The Theatreing because of this angle as well, and intrigued, positively, by the uptick in levity about everything. wherein it’s like okay, it’s sure Also true that like, undo the [and if you were twelve] angle, but The Same kind of fucked up shit happening would of course still be like well this sucks, and is startling, to Anyone who’s an adult, right. But Also like, again the way it’s relevant to touch base with the [kids] timeline, because that’s Defining Everything, this isn’t just “and they’re adults which means everyone’s just tougher than they were when they were kids” and That’s That, it’s like, these are adults who were these specific kids with specific experiences vulnerable to and exposed to bonus trauma, and now this is a “time to jump back in to a head on confrontation with that” plotline but As A Group again rather than this being just the story of like any individuals, or just the main kid/guy, who is now to be sure the [the middle aged writer guy of a stephen king story] lmfao, congrats....and you had [repressed memories but like, magically extensively encompassing] as the device here to as what allows for this outlier scenario of like “but how can adults possibly maintain friendships formed organically in their youth? well, they didn’t lol. but now they’re back.” and the past Has to be relevant and freshly Active because again, this Is directly about trauma lol, not just about whatever broader thing and anyone might secretly have this Hangup or two that’ll get them got. and they all Know this lol, this may be some exclusive knowledge more broadly, but this is Not a secret amongst this group of adults like ah yes my marinating issues that nobody suspects i have....which is a bonus to [even though they’re adults in a stephen king story they don’t all or even mostly have to die] and then like, as i am trying to get around to, that it’d be Different being just any adult approaching this as a new situation to them vs being an adult With Trauma(tm) lol like. the way that one might go “well, this would suck for anyone, but i have a different vulnerability b/c [cptsd involving this shit]” but Then Also the resilience that nobody should have to have and it’s technically a “strength” even though then actually people interpret their [lack of honed ability through direct life experience to cope indefinitely with traumatic experiences] as the strength, a la “wow why’s that person put up with that, i wouldn’t stand for it b/c isn’t it So Clearly Bad & Unpleasant?” victim blaming mentality and people “used” to that shit “putting up with” said shit, which other people would throw up their hands like Wow Just No and walk away from. which in turn isn’t a “weakness” lmao like, there’s no moral judgments to being someone w/trauma or someone without it. that people shouldn’t Have to have cptsd or Resilience, of course, but then that they do. i’m certainly relating to like, yeah it’s Magic Rules / Exaggeration the way that only people young enough can detect & deal with this shit directly, the first time around, and then that they still have access to it as adults presumably b/c of that exposure as kids and because [the childhood trauma doesn’t just Go Away b/c you grew up, even though Also people just think that it ought to or like wow so immature or wow you’re Letting it affect you too strongly still, huh] etc. and anyways, relating to like, yeah enjoyed the way some adults would just be cool & generally supportive, but i also only had so much access to such adults, all Through parents or via school where it’s like, yeah but all the adults there have to Make Sure You’re Behaving Properly in various ways that lead to [punitive] ends and if anyone’s being like particularly supportive / understanding that’s a personal individual choice & they’re probably going Above & Beyond. kind of impressed how useless, and actively unhelpful / counterproductive, any adults were later on when i was dealing with it all the more / had it coming to a head in ways lol, didn’t have an epic friend group i hung out with at twelve or ever who Knew Me that well or i shared anything with or got lifechanging emotional support from, but there Were occasions of like, yeah these peers get it, huh. and now with the perspex of [cptsd having adult] it’s like, yeah, i’d have repeated dreams of parents showing up & i start physically fighting them off with like a shovel and shit lmfao. even now when i rarely have dreams ft. like a more general monster / menacing figure, like i did last night, go figure, Dream Me is always like Oh Okay and immediately physically charges them unarmed lmfao. (also had a dream cameo where some guy on a home computer who was making up like building / engineering schematics? was a Wrole like omg hey buddy. unfortunately a limited interaction, that plot got quickly waylaid by the one where i launch myself at some entity. booo) i can be like “ah, here goes the adrenal response” mostly only noticing sometimes when it’s like, my physical tension has gone to the point of [i can notice my legs/knees shaking], i can also Not Notice It / not think of it b/c you know, it’s like this is truly mundane / everyday shit, in the Relative / Comparative way that it can be. it can be stealth mission time to do some ordinary shit like you live in a survival horror game. it can also go “yeah i could very easily see how if, say, there was this manifestation of trauma / the shit that causes/facilitates/sustains/allows it, i’d go sicko mode on that shit just immediate physical attack” lmao. i know if i’m startled it’s like, that can be a) ordinary, and/or b) unpleasant, and probably c) immediately followed by my being ready to go sicko mode, possibly being a bit pissed off lol. like i can’t even be worried like oh no it’s nighttime what if something was menacing. like yeah that’d be scary and suck, i might get got, i’d also immediately be pissed off like fucking try me you asshole. and it’s like, again the way comedy is A Framework, it’s not what happens when a situation is Lighthearted, Unserious, Frivolous, etc. the like, obvious fact like wow people who are funny can be sad? can have had some fucked up, Serious experiences? can even joke about that? like yeah of course humor can be Deliberately Employed To Cope, including to even communicate about shit, where you’re cueing hard like, i’m not necessarily collapsing under the weight of this right now but it’s a reality and when i’m telling you about it with Humor it’s not in turn asking for you to fix it or even do anything about it at all except be listening to / comprehending the info i’m giving you. and that even looking back on shit can be funny To You because it’s just like, sure Elevated and can be a bit absurd. so it’s like oh yeah of course it’d be funnier, in a way characters are aware of & actively interacting with lmfao. like of course any adult would be like “jesus christ. yikes. aaaa” lol while also being more inclined and able to tackle bullshit right off, but Also being specifically an adult with the [this is your childhood trauma] can be like, yes i’m both still affected by and vulnerable to this shit, but i’m Also less vulnerable than some rando might be, actually, and prepared to / more used to this, and able to go “jesus christ yikes aaaa lmfaooo ahaha” about it. like, i feel that lol. 

paragraph break just because that one was getting Extra long: oh and also the matter of Genre Awareness, that this isn’t just some fucked up shit that happens to be scary and fuck your shit up, but this is expressly an antagonist coming after you with the intention to be scary to you, and you Know that, you are aware you’re in a Horror Genre situation lmao, so meta, surely helpful. and sure sometimes i felt the like comedy vs horror; comedy vs drama sometimes didn’t transition perfectly like, my kind of feeling ambivalent at this one point like uhhh is this scene more straightforwardly dramatic? hmm i guess it was. well anyways. but that’s fine, meanwhile continually delighted even to realize like, here we are going over this all again but with this Shifted Perspective / Framework, we’re clearly goofin a bit. and like how i can clap & cheer like ooh yeah that was creepy lmfao, i got Got comedically like idfk dozen times or what all. ahehe....not to mention the [i Am going insane. society] experience of scrungy expression spit take coughing laughter when overlaying [titanic guy going HaHaHaHaHaHaHa XD as the camera lifts away from overhead] upon [mad man serious contemplation of cinema png] while experiencing like wow the gay Text is more textual than i though, more extensive, turns out i had some things to go into entirely afresh without going “oh yeah, i remember what i osmosis’d about this” to then go :0 =0 about, or that i didn’t quite get Everything through osmosising that i did recall, to then spit take about and become titanic guy fifty times over. i Am a bit joker mode, you really just have to be. and laughing about [when stephen king and PPL go “you know this type of guy” and we all go “yeah i guess. i know Of them [possible knowing looks amongst ourselves, or to the camera]” and then they go “you know how they’re—” and then our answers of “maybe like gay or some shit” overlaps with their “just another heterosexual amongst all the rest of us, unless we’re gay, but we’re talking about how all the protagonists we write are cishet i guess?” like. haha. what an alignment, good for everyone in the overlap....oh and i was like ahahaha when the podcast discussion of The Book Specifically nevertheless had one guy knowing the lore already that the stephen king cameo here as Some Secondhand / Pawn Shop Type Place Owner Guy was someone who, in stephe’s (not a typo, making stephe as = steven happen, with particular enunciation of the ph vs v) own written text as the description of That Guy in the book, is like, this gay caricature who is like wearing some mesh or i think they said it said “fishnet” shirt and like clearly reading this gay porn mag. because how else would someone be gay lmfao? how else would you Know you’ve encountered one of them?? lmfao like, a) i also agree with the podcasters who are like, stephe’s a coward for not staying true to that specific description he wrote when cameo’ing as that person, and b) like, people are gay, stephe....but classic matters of [running down a hallway going Noooo and knocking shit down behind you while being chased by [the way stephen king writes about [take your pick] and/or just like, what do you think is going on in life re: [take your pick] exactly, stephen king, i swear] lol)

anyways This has turned into [gif of the guy emphatically pointing at a laptop and also at some unseen listener to this Serious Monologue] because i have endless things to say about anything. the point it it’s like, well hey i think that was remarkably successful re: choosing to have Characters with Emotional Arcs tied to a Metaphor in this horror media, when usually i’m like, the execution of this is so shit that it’s like, just don’t have characters lol, don’t try to make it a metaphor (although you know, difficult for it not to be tied to anything irl, so don’t be unaware of how it Could be), if it’s gonna be this kind of a mess. the fact that like, you can’t have [trauma] be a character weakness fatal flaw that gets them got b/c they weren’t individually Strong Enough, b/c this is All About a) having & interacting with that [trauma] first and foremost and b) how having a group of relationships affects that (helpfully). my pleasant surprise about how like yeah of course you can’t just make the exact same movie again but i wasn’t necessarily expecting a noticeably more outright comedic angle for round two, but duly kinda delighted by it, and that felt very Appropriate and Verisimilitudinous for the new angle of And You’re Completely Grown. that stephen king Rarely writes about relevant friendships and all the more rarely to never writes about relevant friendships between Adults but whoops, that happened here, b/c there was a magical workaround where “drifting apart” was not entirely congruous to the real life literal actual way that’d happen, and b/c the way this is about childhood trauma means that the Rest of that childhood is relevant to adulthood / adult identities, and he ends up with “god, does anyone?” being answered by “yeah, sometimes” lol. and yeah being a deh enjoyer / being haunted byer / analyzer means anytime something is About the connections someone, say a young person for one, might make and how that can be relevant to All Their Issues, i’m sitting up & taking notes like oh ya don’t say. that stephen king shit overall is like, well this is Interesting and i could talk all day but i’m also like, personally more ambivalent and bound to run over like hey stephe i’m shoving you around, bitch. until we form an unlikely, begrudging alliance to instead go after stanley kubrick, then boo the the shining movie, but whatever. the the shining book ending, one of the few things i particularly remember from actually reading that one, is true like, stephen king endings tending to be a hot mess that maybe aren’t super successful but here we are and it was like, why’d it get so goofy all of a sudden lmfao like i’m telling you with the schrodinger’s boiler that’s old and temperamental and if you don’t maintain it it’ll blow up probably, and that the way things end in the book is the [middle aged dime a dozen writer man protag] being possessed by a hotel is like oh fuck me lmfao, not the boiler i can’t maintain myself even though i’m possessing a hotel, it hasn’t been maintained, and then as always in any of these stories things go off the rails and yakety sax starts to play while after hanna barbera cartoon scrambling in place for a second, your haunted hotel avatar starts sprinting to the basement or wherever it was but Too Late, it blows up and the hotel dies kind of. and that’s kinda fun and funny lol but yknow, put it back in. beating up kubrick aside, i’ve seen all of? nigh all of? wasn’t paying much attention. the movie and it’s like oh okay whatever. but as with like [anything stephen king] and my not even being born till the 90s, it’s like, i can’t possibly experience this afresh, we can all agree that surely this is the best known stephen king work b/w book & film adaptation, even among biggies that really just permeate pop culture overall, who can know what i’d think if these things were New and pre [own significant influence on relevant genres / mediums] or also i was a younger reader/viewer at the times as people could often be. but i was like....expression where you scrunch your face up and look to the side like “are you seeing this” bemusement like...this is. fine i guess? it’s not really scary lmfao. and regardless, resurrecting kubrick to beat him up. but on that note it’s also funny that god knows why i ever mentioned the hypothetical of watching the shining once in passing to my mom, it would’ve been humorous / not in earnest b/c no way would i have been suggesting we watch that or even that i had watched it necessarily, so i Think i must’ve just been informing her of some things that were on tv at that moment with some goofy but technically accurate suggestions like that one, and she is a bit indignant like clearly disapproving of the general idea because, as she says, she doesn’t think it’s Right to tell kids they should ever be afraid of their parents. but between “but like. they go axe murder possessed by a hotel mode here, wherein i think it’s very appropriate?” and [someone who watches It and keeps looking into the camera one zillion times / is fascinated by the fact it’s like oh wow, any horror talking about What If You Had Trauma that isn’t like fundamentally misguided throughout and probably egregiously insulting about it] i take a perfectly comedically timed pause and then we freeze frame on my doing a spit take Laugh into my own drink. not actually in the real moment lol, i just Say Nothing and file that one away lmfao

oh and as a little postscript here i want to shoutout my going “just like Watch Your Step in goosebumps the musical the phantom of the auditorium” where it’s like, schrodinger’s warning about how a kid could just up and accidentally die via this trapdoor or like anywhere anytime, but you don’t really realize that b/c you’re kids, but I’m Telling You. and like, he’s right in general to be sure, you can just die, as well as unknowingly right of course like oops yeah some kid did just up and suddenly die via this trapdoor, grimly. and that’s Stand By Me / The Body handshake emoji It, like of course that mortality is ever relevant particularly in horror, but that also it’s like, kids realizing the reality and Proximity of that, like You Can Die, this could be you or could’ve been you. [horror, and it’s middle schoolers] wins again

#how long is this. and i could've gone on lol. if i have anything to say i Can [never shut up] #it #like what even addendums could there be for the tags....like don't even start b/c of course i could max shit out #i guess the Interesting Fun Fact that in doing research the podcasters were able to be like #''well i'm not Sure abt this; the source was maybe vague & it Would be vague; but that naturally ofc plenty of story elements in #stephen king stuff can be things where he's like yeah [xyz] was directly inspired by some real life shit [abc]'' and that like there was #Maybe this childhood event where he saw a friend / some other kid get hit by a train but then right off fully blacked out on that memory #which obviously would be pertinent here re: Remembering Litchrelly Nothing abt childhood till it all suddenly is brought back into play #but also like the part of stand by me included a scene like woops Almost getting hit by a train. dunno if that's in the short story though #but i'm gonna say Probably Yeah. plus learning again via the podcast like oh stephe got mega hit by like a minivan in '99? i was 5 lol #so i would not have been aware of that news. and i have not since Caught Up on the man's life history. nice not dying there #there was probably some other sidebar i wanted to throw in here but i forget and quick let's post this before I Keep Going On & On #scrolling up ''oh this isn't That long'' scrolling back down ''oh wait maybe it is kinda long'' #it's all relative. i like horror i dislike horror. i said a lot i was so concise. #for one thing lmfao like sure is Interesting how; say; i was always Intrigued by horror as a kid even #like i think that's true for plenty of people & there's more than one way to enjoy a genre & s/o to Horror Expressly For Kids or anything #expressly for kids when it's like good & genuine & apropos it's Not just necessarily abt diluted or lesser versions of that For Adults #but anyways like i Also though def experienced like; this does freak me out & in an [i'm not having fun] way. But I Also persisted lol #like me thinking ''but i have to power through & build up a tolerance here'' when like; of course i really Didn't. why would i. #did that re: like thrill rides too sometimes; kinda liking them & the suspense; kinda really not; at least for a good while #i Did build up a tolerance &/or just how i got older & now i think all thrill rides are entirely Fun. except just straight drop towers maybe #haven't tried one lol but i've tried like roller coasters that are supposed to be Especially intense & i didn't even realize like oh. huh. #like it was fine actually lol we have fun...and same with horror; again how like yeah i'm not expecting Especially Intense but yeah ofc i'm #gonna fire this shit up alone in the dark & never think anything of that. munch crunch #like hmmmmm re: my being a little kid who Was bothered more by such shit sometimes while also intrigued / having fun #but who regardless was like Well I Have To Try To Be Okay With It / seek it out & power through. vs ppl who are just like well no i don't #enjoy or like horror stuff particularly and/or roller coasters lol. compare & contrast & contextualize w/me also being a little kid who is #experiencing trauma & trauma responses as what is for me some mundane / everyday / par for the course / Anytime shit lol and of course i do #not have the info / context / perspective / framework to realize this. so i get distressed by ''that Would be fucked up'' but what else is #new or what have you? why shouldn't i also go ''well i guess i have to Get Good at tolerating this / Enduring it'' lmao

[jrueships]

According to jaren's GQ interview !!!!!!!!!!!

#jaren is so much more energetic than the interviewer it's rlly funny #i did not read the whole interview yet bcs it's early and head hurt 😭 i gotta read it on the downtime soon #but he keeps the happy energy throughout like the whole thing #no WONDER he'd make such a good elementary kindergarten teacher <3 cute !!!! #the cute elementary school teacher jaren falling for eccentric gym teacher ja and dumping his greasy negligent bf d*llon for him fic When ? #BUT ANYWAYS it's so sweet how jaren keeps close contact with all his old besties! #and knows all abt their hobbies! #him n miles being lil rapper friends 😊😊 i wanna learn more abt their friendship! #he convinced miles to go to his college so they could be college besties! #him putting miles over dame what a king LMAO #'yea dame got lyrics but miles BANGS!!!' ... inch resting...ok jaren #wiseman LOOKS like a producer lol #jaren getting a song to his beats <3 thats so cool!!!! nba rappers n nba producers WORLDS COLLIDE!!! #marvin .......hes doing his thing - #jaren adamant on poole refusing to admit his hobby 😭 but exposing him anyways WOW lol thats why he pointed at u after that dunk #gordon looking like he wants to be a rapper... yea 😭 #jaren is so skrunk <3 he wants to unite all the musicians of the nba like marvel infinity war #the sound booth gotta be humongous like vertical wise #jaren #gq givin us the good deets AS PER USUAL !!! #i have Not yet listened to trips music..... ive been puttin it off 😭 im a lil afraid #IDK ill. give it a listen #see how he do #jaren/jordan

[silverislander]

i don't know what to be for halloweeeeeeeen im having a crisis of identity. drapes myself over the sofa dramatically

#like im SUPER excited but i have too many ideas and i like them all #either i could go as some sort of king/prince (recently bought a very cool crown but am not attached to the idea otherwise) #be a demon/tiefling (super fun idea but 1. i dont like how vague it is 2. i would have to buy almost all of it. horns tail etc) #i could maybe combine 1 and 2. demon prince. but i dont love that either! its vague i like specificity #or a creepypasta character maybe (would fulfill a childhood dream but i cant even pick which one id want to do most!) #i think what i need to do is go to spirit halloween and the thrift stores and just fuckin raid em and see what comes to me #bc i want to get started early!! also bc it would be fun #levi.txt #i also know my friends want to do a weekend bash like we did last year so i would have an excuse to do multiple costumes #but we usually do THEMES so ill have to fit the theme #rn i think im leaning towards doing smth creepypasta if only bc 1. its cheaper 2. i could probably reuse whatever clothes i get for it? #and ofc bc i have wanted to do a creepypasta costume since i was 12 years old and somehow never have #lj is out hes too much work. ej is too easy although hed be fun. somehow jeff is both bc its so damn hard to get a white hoodie #not jane/sally/nina for obvious reasons (do not put me in a dress so help me god) and im not too attached to ben #i dont think im good enough at sfx to go as clockwork which does make me a little sad. i loved her growing up it would be so fun #maybe i have to go as toby. thatd be rad i could do a reallly good job of that and i did love him too #yall i mightve solved it. post cancelled hbfsjhjsk

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT

Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI

A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.

The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.

"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.

"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.

In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.

"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.

"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.

"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.

"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."

You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.

Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.

"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."

"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.

"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.

You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.

"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.

"Your ex is fucking annoying."

You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.

Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.

He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.

"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"

He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.

He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.

"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"

"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.

"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.

"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"

"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.

You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.

"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.

#hazbin hotel #mdni #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #smut #banner by cafekitsune #💫mimicwrites💫 #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader smut #fem reader #fem!reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel x y/n

[deadsetobsessions]

Of all the places he could have been summoned to, Danny Phantom had never considered a private school’s bathroom to be one of them.

With glowing green skin, a shock of flickering flames for hair, and a suit made out of the spaces between collapsing stars, Danny stared down at the stupefied faces of Gotham Academy’s finest students. One of them had their face in their hands, having caught sight of him and undergoing all the stages of grief in but a moment.

They sat around a circle that he was appropriately impressed with considering the limited space they had to work with. Danny could see the empty stalls, some of which were adorned with drawings and writings that were left by the, no-doubt, extremely busy caretaker.

“Seriously, a bathroom?” Danny wrinkled his nose.

“Holy shit, that actually worked?” One of the kids blurted out, then slammed their hands on top of their mouth.

“Did you expect it not to?” Danny squinted at them, frowning. It’s Friday, so it’s not like he had much to do, but Danny would prefer it if his time wasn’t wasted.

“No- no, your… uh, highness?”

“All of that schooling and you’re still uneducated,” one of the other ones hissed at the red headed kid who spoke. It’s “Your Majesty.” He’s a king, idiot!”

That was a pretty solid burn but, “It’s actually just Phantom. Did you guys want something? I’m busy.”

He’s not busy, but who cares?

“Uh…” the kids exchanged glances. The one in the back sighed and spoke up. He adjusted his glasses.

“We’re sorry for bothering you, Phantom. You wouldn’t happen to have a solution for dimensional separation, would you?”

“Huh.” Danny tilted his head, face souring. “I hate dimensional issues. They’re the worst. Who’s causing them?”

“His name’s Klarion!” The one who slapped a hand across his mouth earlier piped up.

“Oh! The lords of chaos or whatever. Yeah, I can help, for a price.”

Danny is against unpaid labor. Extremely against it, considering his side gig is being a half-dead vigilante. Then again, are you really a vigilante if you’re not half dead on a regular basis?

“What do you want?” Despite the reluctance from earlier, it’s clear the one with the glasses made the big decisions in this weird friend group.

“… A hundred dollars.”

“That’s it? No stipulations?” When Danny nodded, the kid had a calculating expression. “Deal.” The teen said immediately. He pulled out cash and wow, Danny’s definitely in a place with a different tax bracket.

He snatched it. Nasty burger money!

“Deal’s a deal. Also, don’t ever summon me again, but if you do, don’t ever do it in a bathroom again. You kids are so weird.” Danny floated out of the circle, grinning sharply. He formed a small bird- he doesn’t know why, but it felt right- of ice and handed it to the kid with glasses. “There. Proof of the deal.”

With that, Danny disappeared. Private school kids were so fucking weird, but… Dash and his goons were probably worse. What’s a little ritualistic summoning in the face of teenagers?

——

“I leave you guys alone for ten minutes and you summon the king of the dead?” Robin narrowed his eyes at his teammates, traitors who had the good graces to look sheepish. “How could you?! I wanted to try, too!”

Kid Flash patted him on the shoulder, a granola bar appearing in his mouth now that the possible world ending terror disappeared. “Sorry, Rob. Maybe next time! Magic still isn’t real though.”

“I’m not doing this shit in a bathroom again,” Artemis rolled back to her feet. “He sounded like he was going to rip our bones out if we ever summoned him in a bathroom again.”

“Ugh…”

#dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #dc x dp #dick grayson #Robin #young justice #artemis crock #kid flash #I’m aware Artemis didn’t know about rob in this ep #I think? it’s been a while since I’ve watched it #Wally West

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks

[ohbother2]

Tha hazbin hotel brainrot is so strong, your writing is so good im kicking feet hsujsjsn

May i request a Lucifer X reader where they are pining so badly for each other and ends up in a situation where they are very close to one another? Like the classic " oh shit we're stuck in a small space together and so close" or "whoops tripped and fell now I'm pinning you down and panicking" kind of thing but it's really all up to you <3 and then they end up just full on making out lol, cause yearning,,

(I simply need making out fics with the short king he's taking over my brain😭)

Thanks for requesting!! I had a lot of fun with this one :) Hope you enjoy! Also, I only realised when I went to post this that this ask didn't specify a f!reader, but I thought it did so just a warning for you guys. It's not too specific but... not entirely gender neutral.

This probably borderlines smut, so... minors DNI.

Lucifer x f!reader

PART II

You had been Lucifer's secretary for many years now, joining him just after the disappearance of his ex-wife Lilith when he had decided he needed more help with his duties. You had been there for some of the worst years of his life, assisting him through the highs and lows of being the King of Hell, had seen him at his worst, and at his best. You had helped guide him from the deepest depths of depression, and for that he was eternally grateful, batting away the darkness with a smile enchanting enough to light up the dingiest corners of Hell. He truly didn't know what he would do without you, and today that was evermore apparent.

It had been a long day, and Lucifer found himself sat at his large desk, dark bags sitting heavy underneath his tired and bloodshot eyes, jacket and hat discarded and head resting in his hands as he tried to focus on the mountains of paperwork scattered along his ornate desk. He had been stuck in this position for hours, and he could feel his back creak and something in his neck twinge whenever he shifted. He truly desired nothing more than to crawl into bed, but he had duties that he couldn't just abandon.

A soft knock at his door signals your presence, and only his gaze lifts when you enter, tray in hand and that familiar comforting smile adorned on your rosy lips. Your smile morphs into something more fond as you approach the hunched man, who runs his hands through his disheveled locks and leans back in his plush chair, hands rubbing at the tiredness of his eyes and dragging down his cheeks. He looked tired, he looked weary, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his shirt wrinkled and rolled to his elbows, blonde locks falling across his forehead. You always loved when he looked a little disheveled, appreciating his strong forearms that flexed as he clenched his hands into his hair. It was more rugged than he ever let himself look in any other situation, and you couldn't get enough. You had to fight a frown at seeing how utterly exhausted he was, however, not enjoying the darkness encircling his bright eyes. He didn't hide these things from you, he had no need to; you wouldn't threaten his power at seeing this display of weakness, you would just smile and offer reassurance, appearing with a cup of steaming tea to quell his nerves.

"Good evening, sir." You place the tray against the edge of the desk, trying not to disturb any of the numerous documents that lay strewn about, though you doubted there was any system to the disarray.

"'Evening." He leans further back in his chair, watching you tiredly as you shuffle some of his papers to the side. "How many times do I need to tell you not to call me that? We're good friends, 'Your Royal Highness' is more than fine.''

"Apologies, 'Your Majesty'." You attempt a curtsy, though that was hard with the tight pencil skirt you had chosen to wear today. He laughs at your efforts, taking the steaming tea from your hands with a grateful nod, sighing as the scolding liquid reaches his lips.

"You're marvellous, you know? I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I brought you some tea." You back-hand his compliment away, as you always did, gaze turning to try and decipher some of his scrawling writing. You always found it easier to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks by confusing yourself with his work, that method hadn't failed you yet.

"You're here on a Friday night, looking after some tired old sod, when I'm sure you had many potential plans to go to." His gaze travels up from your hip that you had propped against the desk to tidy some books, up past the curve of your waist, the swell of your chest, gaze lingering a little too long on the collarbone that peaked from beneath your blouse, before finally resting on your face. He stares again, sipping slowly from his cup, far too long for a boss to appreciate an employee, mapping the curve of your brows, the light downturn of your lips as you tried to read something on the desk, the way your hair cascaded around your features. He was tired, he usually controlled himself better. "I wish you'd take a weekend off some time."

Your gaze finally returns to him, satisfied with the state of his desk and you lean back, both hands gripping the desk ledge. "Hypocritical coming from you, don't you think? When did you last have a weekend off?"

"Hmm," He hums, finishing his drink and placing it onto his desk. He rolls his neck in an effort to rid of the crick that was increasingly bothering him. You notice, you frown. "If I am nothing else, call me a hypocrite. You should be out - I don't want to see you here tomorrow night, I want to see you on Sunday morning with a horrendous hangover and stories to tell me."

You laugh, the King of Hell instructing you to go and shirk off your responsibilities and get smashed? Only Lucifer would tell an employee that.

"We both know that won't happen." You grin, taking the opportunity to reach forward and push some of his blonde locks back from his forehead, attempting to push them back into their usual immaculate style. He swallows tightly as you do, having to fight himself from leaning into your touch. You were so gentle, and that fond smile remained etched onto your face as you did so, and God he wanted you to keep caressing his face until he fell asleep right then and there. "Come on now Luci, this place would fall apart without me."

"I can cope one day without you." He bluffs, leaning heavily onto his right armrest and closer to you, legs crossing as he fully relaxes - work didn't matter right now, you did.

"You're so sure?" You shift your stance, and he notices in his peripheral how your tight skirt lifted slightly, exposing more of your milky thigh.

"Not at all." His confidence in the statement has you laughing lightly, the King of Hell grinning up at you and admitting how royally screwed he would be without you. "In fact, I'd probably be dead the next time you walked into work. But wouldn't that be a fun story?"

"I would much rather you be alive." You slowly leave your position leant against the desk, deciding enough was enough as he winces again and rubs at a sore spot in his neck. "I do quite enjoy your company, you know."

Your hands suddenly fall against his shoulders, and he lurches in his seat, shrinking away from the cold pads of your fingers that pressed delicately against either of his shoulder blades.

"Uh-" His voice is uncharacteristically high pitched, and he has to clear his throat to stop it from breaking embarrassingly. "Y/N, what are you-" His fingers grip at his thighs as your fingers move, pressing firmly against his worn muscles. Oh heavens, that felt good.

"You've been rubbing your neck since I walked through the door." You explain, completely focussed on your task at hand and unaware of the red hue that was steadily growing on Lucifer's rosy cheeks. "You need to give yourself a break."

This was rather a bold move from yourself, but you were nothing if not opportunistic. That's how you landed this job in the first place. Your hands work steadily, finally reaching the centre of his back and gliding your thumbs up his spine, up the centre of his neck, and directly into the base of his skull. His head rocks forward lightly at the movement and he groans at the action. You continue to work at his neck, and he remains sat, eyes closed tightly, clawed hands nearly tearing through his own trousers, bruising his own thighs, feeling as though he were back in Heaven. He could feel how close you were, the heat of your body wafting across his neck and shoulders as you worked, and he had to concentrate immensely to control the sounds that wanted to escape his throat. He had nearly combusted on the spot when he had audibly groaned, but you hadn't commented on it, for which he was eternally grateful.

After several minutes, that both felt like an eternity of torture and mere seconds of bliss for Lucifer, you pull your hands back, finishing with one final carding of your fingers through the short tufts of hair at his nape. His eyes open blearily at the loss of contact, blinking heavily as he watches you gather the tray into your arms, adorning his empty cup, and a stack of paperwork.

"Y/N what are you- absolutely not, leave those here." He reaches for the papers now stacked on your tray, and you lift it higher out of his reach unless he stood. He realises his dilemma, firmly rooted into his seat unless he wanted to make an incredibly embarrassing and inappropriate reveal.

"It's only the menial stuff I do sometimes." You step away from the desk slowly, heels clicking as you go. "Besides, it's barely made a dent. I'll have them finished and with you tomorrow morning."

"You should be sleeping." He warns, leaning his elbows against his desk and watching you leave.

"No no." You mock, pausing with a hand on the handle to the door. "We should be up and having fun, making embarrassing stories to share tomorrow. I, for one, can't wait to hear about the hilarious tales of Lucifer and his mountains of paperwork. I'll make sure my story is juicy, these accounting papers are always full of gossip." You lie plainly, and Lucifer shakes his head with a grin.

"Thank you." He calls as you open the door. "I mean it."

"I always have you to thank for a wild Friday night." You grin, finally leaving through the door you had entered from with a bow of your head.

Lucifer sinks into his seat, sighing heavily as the room plunges into silence once again. He stares at the papers that still littered his desk - you had lied, you had taken a sizeable amount. Your presence had helped, and your fingers had fully relaxed the tight muscles in his back and neck, and he felt immensely better than he had mere minutes before. However, you had created an entirely new problem. He shifts at the uncomfortable tightness to his trousers, hands dragging through his hair as he thought, hard. There was no point sitting here if he wasn't able to focus. He raises from his seat, cursing his inability to man up and just tell you how he felt.

Bathroom first, and then he would focus on his paperwork.

---

A month later, Lucifer had been in charge of organising a fancy ball with some incredibly important guests - the 7 Sins of Hell and a smattering of other Royal households, as well as general persons of influence from all 7 rings. The event was to be held in the Pride ring, and as soon as it had been organised he had practically pleaded with you to attend. You hadn't been able to go to the previous events, being stuck in the Pride ring due to your human-soul. Lucifer had been ecstatic when he realised you could attend, and had nearly cried when you had agreed to go with him. Not as a date, no, definitely not, but as friends.

"We're late!" Your voice shouts as you hurry through the door to Lucifer's office, heels in one hand and your purse in the other. Your eyes land on Lucifer, who was stood fiddling with his tie in front of a mirror on the wall, forked tongue stuck out as he concentrated. "Luci, the driver's outside."

"I know, I know." He stresses, finishing off his tie and attempting to smooth down the lapels of his jacket, finally turning towards you as he arranged his cuff sleeves. "It's fine, he'll w-wait-" He stutters as his eyes finally land on you, pupils widening significantly as he forces out "for us."

You never really dolled yourself up that much, usually wearing typical office attire, and sometimes even wearing casual clothes if you were in the office particularly late. Tonight, you had gone full out - you pretended it was because of the nerves about being around such powerful figures in Hell, in reality, you wanted to impress Lucifer, you likely wouldn't get another opportunity to doll yourself up so much again, and you wanted to make the most of it. Even if nothing happened, you wanted to prove you could be just as beautiful as the Overlords and Royalty he frequented.

As you stand, hesitantly, reapplying your rouge lipstick with your small compact mirror and fluffing your hair, Lucifer stands star-struck, eyes glued to your figure. You wore an elegant black velvet dress that clasped around the back of your neck. The elegant midnight coloured dress hugged your torso tightly, and Lucifer's gaze hovered heavily. The fabric was tight and emphasised your curves, with the neckline dipping down sinfully low and exposing the rivulet between your breasts, a beautiful ruby jewel hanging from a silver chain right between the valley of your breasts, the dress cinched tightly at your waist and fell elegantly from your hips. He could see one of your smooth legs from a slit in the side of the dress. You close the mirror and pop it back into your silver purse, smiling brightly at the stunned man.

"My- Y/N you look stunning." Lucifer compliments, leaning back against his desk as he finishes clasping his cuff links. "A vision. Dare I say, I'll be having to fight away the suitors all evening."

You blush furiously, thankful for the makeup that covered your cheeks. He pauses, swallowing thickly as you bend down to begin fastening your shoes.

"Please stay away from Asmodeus."

You laugh as you continue to fiddle with your shoes, glancing up at him as you tie the clasp. "You flatterer. Should I expect to see you pulling these moves on all the girls there tonight?"

You jest, but Lucifer is so enraptured by you he cannot help but feel insulted you would even think he would entertain the notion of other women. He speaks quietly, watching you struggle to gain your balance as you try and put on the other heel. "Not at all."

He didn't know what compelled him to do it, maybe it was the way you wobbled as you tried to get into your second shoe, likely it was the fact he'd already had two glasses of wine to quell his nerves, but before he realises it he's kneeling in front of you and grasping your ankle in a feather-light grip.

You freeze as his hands replace your own, sliding your foot easily into your heel as your hand comes to rest on his shoulder to regain your balance. He works slowly, gently fixing the clasp of your elegant heel, head turning up towards you and smiling up at you. Your breath catches in your throat, Lucifers hands resting against your ankle and calf, disarming you with a charming smile and lidded eyes, and kneeling directly in front of you. His hand slides up your calf as he lets you go, standing back to his full height easily, now a little shorter than you with your heels properly on.

"T-Thank you." You breathe, fixing the slit of your dress that had become creased. Your own hands reach forward, straightening his tie and smoothing down his collar. "You look very handsome yourself."

He smiles, self-satisfied, as you fix his collar, and then immediately schools his expression to hide his awe-struck grin when he realises you were actually looking at him. "Thank you, thank you." He chirps, cane materialising in his left hand and twirling it, trying to distract himself from how close you were, and how absolutely beautiful you looked. "I think we'll make quite an entrance. Don't you?" He offers you his right arm, and you take it with a grateful nod as you both leave the office and head towards the taxi. "That is, if you manage to walk down all those stairs with those stilts under your feet."

"I'm excellent in heels." You defend, rather enjoying the way your arm brushes against his chest as you walk, the smell of his expensive cologne reaching your nose. "We'll have a problem if you start drinking, you can barely stand straight after a bottle of wine, and I certainly can't carry you home in these heels."

"Oh? You're insulting my drinking skills? What about the time I had to come and collect you from a party I wasn't even invited to, to teleport you home? I could barely understand you through the phone." He clears his throat, raising his voice high and slurring his words mockingly. "Luci- I-I'm not drunk, BUT-"

You whack his shoulder, remembering the night perfectly, and utterly mortified he had had to guide you home after you'd had a few too many. "Shut up, you're no better at holding your drink."

He laughs, and you feel the rumble of his chest against your forearm. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

---

It had been several months since the party, and Lucifer was growing increasingly frustrated at his inability to make any sort of move on you. Hell, he hadn't even kissed your hand, which was something he had had to do to more people than he could count. He was desperate to make his feelings known, and yet was utterly paralysed whenever the opportunity arose for him to express them. It didn't help that ever since his stunt with your heel, you had become more emboldened with your flirting attempts, but he always doubted whether your words and actions were actually meant flirtatiously, or if he was just romanticising all of your interactions in his own head.

The party had been... uneventful. True to his predictions, Lucifer had been having to whisk you away from attempted suitors all night, and at one point had grown so irate at a particular demon's attempts he had placed a hand at the small of your back and refused to remove it until the demon had thoroughly gotten the point and left the conversation. The event had only made him realise his feelings more for you, being positively furious that he couldn't just tell the other demon's you were his, and to piss off back to whatever Ring they had come from. The next passing months had been nothing short of torture as he grappled with whether to confess, or not.

Despite his wishes, things had carried on as normal, and it was absolutely maddening. He had even spoken to Charlie about his dilemma, but she hadn't been much help, just shrieking at him excitedly through the phone. He had been so desperate he had nearly asked Asmodeus for help, but he had quickly decided against that after remembering some of the stunts he had pulled in their younger years.

Now, he sat back at his desk at 2am, frowning after realising he didn't have all the documents he needed. His hat and jacket were once again discarded, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows in his signature 'I am having a bad day' fashion.

"Y/N!" He calls, and your head pokes out from a filing cupboard you had been tasked with organising. He smiles at you, a hand running through his hair as he sits back. "Can you please find me the letter we got from Wrath about the expenses for that new armament shop? I think it was sent by a Mr. Pennine."

"Yep!" You chirp, disappearing back into the cupboard with the sounds of shuffling papers increasing. Lucifer scans the document in his hands, patiently awaiting the file.

He hears a thump, and a groan, and he straightens in his chair, trying to see what you were doing.

"I've found it." You emerge, rubbing the base of your spine with a wince. An airy laugh falls form his lips.

"What did you do?"

"It's on a high shelf that I can't reach - I fell trying to climb and get it."

Lucifer laughs properly this time, already beginning to stand from his seat and head towards you, shoulders shaking as he does.

"It's not funny."

"I think you'll find it's hilarious." He grins, walking past you and into the small storage cupboard. "Right, where is it?" He glances around the cupboard with an eyebrow raised. He hated this kind of menial work, and was frankly terrible at locating things within this jumbled mess. "I have no clue how this system works."

"Hmm, filing has never been your strong suit." You hum, appearing behind him, having to press close in the small space. A hand appears in his peripheral, motioning over his shoulder to a shelf even he would have to climb to reach. He sighs, releasing a breath as he places a foot against an unsteady shelving unit.

"Yes, another one of my many limitations. Thankfully you're so good at finding things for me." He grins over his shoulder at you, hauling himself up until he's at eye level with the correct shelf. You stand beneath him, arms outstretched tentatively, just in case.

"If I fall, I fully expect you to save me." He comments, brows furrowed as he sifts through the files, looking for a 'Mr Pennine' to catch his eye. When he does find it, he wafts the document about his head, calling down to your worried expression. "Seems I'm doing a better job than my own assistant."

You cock your head at him, taking a small step back as he readies to climb down. "Truly, don't even know why I'm here sometimes-"

You hear a worrying creak as his foot lands on the next shelf down, and his gaze locks with yours for a mere moment before the shelf breaks and he plummets to the ground. He lands on you with a yell, flattening you against the floor and opposite wall and sprawled across your lap in a heap. The whole cupboard shakes with the fall, and the door slams shut with surprising force, plunging the room into darkness.

Lucifer groans, pushing himself back up onto his knees, rubbing an elbow tenderly as he attempts to stand, back smacking into another shelf as he tries to back up. You groan as well, hunched against the wall and thoroughly winded, not entirely sure what had happened.

"Y/N! I'm so sorry, are you alright?!" Lucifer attempts to bend down to reach you, glowing eyes staring at you through the darkness, but his back smacks against another shelf. He stands there, half-hunched, useless as you try and push yourself to your feet, clinging onto a shelf to haul you upright. He can feel you moving against his legs, the cupboard really not meant to house two bodies, and when you finally stand your body presses far too close to his for comfort. He smacks the cupboard door harshly, hoping that the lock hadn't fully sealed from the outside, but the hinges remain firm. "Oh, fuck." He groans, leaning back against a shelf and staring down at you, one hand still pressed pathetically against the door. "Looks like we're trapped."

You, on the other hand, are unable to see anything except the glowing pair of amber and ruby eyes staring down at you, not possessing the enhanced vision Lucifer did. Your hands search the walls aimlessly, and you attempt to press yourself back into the opposite wall to try and create some space. Despite both of your best efforts, you can still feel the heat emanating from his body, barely inches of space between you. "Can you portal us out?" You question desperately, blinking furiously to try and see more of your surroundings.

"There isn't enough room."

You both plunge into silence, and you wring your hands together nervously. Who would find you? When was the next person scheduled to meet Lucifer? It was 2am, who else would be awake at this time? God, he was so close, you could feel his breath fanning across your forehead and hair. You rub at a saw spot near your temple, having smacked into a shelf during Lucifer's rapid decent.

A hand lands against the side of your face without warning, and you jerk at the unexpected contact in the darkness.

"Sorry!" Lucifer draws his hand back as quickly as he had placed it, returning it to his side and flexing his fingers. "I forget you can't see as well." His hand approaches much more slowly, fingers carding your hair away from your face. "I was just trying to check your head, you hit it pretty hard when I fell on you. When I said I expected you to save me, I didn't mean to sacrifice yourself as my landing pad."

"That's what I'm here for." You joke, missing the contact as he withdraws his hand, satisfied that the skin hadn't broken. "I'm fine, don't worry." You smile despite the darkness, knowing he could see.

"We'll be fine." He assures, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or himself, he laughs to himself, trying to dispel the anxiety in his chest. "Someone will find us soon."

You hum, doubting him very much. All you could do was wait.

God-knows how long you had spent in that closet, but it didn't take long before you were unbuttoning the first few buttons of your blouse and complaining about the heat. Lucifer hadn't been his normal chatty self, and instead leant heavily against the shelves behind him, hands gripping at the shelves that ran along either wall to prevent himself from reaching out towards you. You were so close, so warm and smelling so sweat pressed against him, all it would take was an inch of moment, barely a lift of a finger, and he'd be able to pull you close, to draw you towards his chest just like he had dreamed about for years now. It didn't help that you kept shifting your weight from foot to foot, feet aching from the amount of time you had just had to stand still, seemingly completely unaware of the way it made your hip rub against his pelvis.

He was a sweating, panicking mess, and he had twisted his torso uncomfortably, back hunched, to prevent the effects of your movements on him pressing against you. He could see your innocent expression through the darkness, the way your eyes searched blindly in the cramped space, and he wanted nothing more than to reach forward and press his lips against your neck, and not stop until someone found you the next morning.

But, he was a gentleman, and he had control, despite what his body was doing of its own accord, and so he gripped the shelving either side of your head and tried desperately to think about other things.

That was until you tried to lean against the shelf to your left, causing your thigh to rub the slowly growing bulge he had been desperately trying to hide. Lucifer's breath hitches in the darkness.

"Are you okay?" You ask, having picked up on his quickened breathing. You couldn't see him at all despite the amber eyes that flicked around the room incessantly, but you could feel his legs pressing against yours, and you could faintly feel the presence of an arm close to your head. When his amber irises land on you, you have a perfect view of the way they dilate, and you furrow your brows. "Is there something wrong?"

"God, would you stop moving." His voice was tight, straining in his throat as he tried his best to remain composed. He was fully aware you weren't even doing anything, but a love-sick pining man pressed so close up against his crush for so long? Who could blame a man for growing flustered.

You shift, attempting to lean towards him to see what was wrong, but two hands are suddenly on your hips and pushing you away from him and back into the shelf behind you, grip vice-like over the fabric of your trousers. You can feel his ragged breath against your forehead. "Heaven, please stop."

"What are you-" You go to argue, but the way his grip tightens against your hips has you halting. You stare for a moment, and it takes you far too long to put the pieces together in your mind: the dilated pupils, the shaky breaths, the way he pushes you away from his hips. Oh.

"Sir, it's okay-"

"Please stop talking." He practically begs, face a fiery red and really wishing for death right about now. "I'm sorry. It's inappropriate. You keep moving and you're so close. You don't have to work for me again after this, I'll understand-"

"Lucifer," You interrupt his rambling, hands coming to rest atop his own on your hips, sliding them up his forearms and resting atop the junction of his elbow. "you know you're the densest man I've ever met."

No response greets you for a moment.

"I said I'm sorry, you don't have to insult me too."

The hurt in his voice has your face twisting into a sympathetic smile. He really was oblivious.

"I'm insulting you, because there's an opportunity right in front of you, and you're not taking it."

You can hear the way his breathing deepens. "What do you-"

You lean forward, impossibly closer, chest pressing against his own. You can feel the way he gasps at the contact. He still has a hold of your hips, pining them away from him like a man burned.

"I'm going to die." He suddenly blurts, his breaths short and panting. His composure was slipping. "You're going to kill me if you keep doing that."

"I'd much prefer it if you didn't die." One of your hands slides up from his arm to his shoulder, burrowing into the fabric there. A high sound catches in Lucifer's throat, and you grin. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you kissed me like I've been inviting you to for the past few years."

His mind runs blank, nothing but the sound of his heart beat ricocheting between his ears. You wanted this? You wanted him?

"I don't think you understand." He stutters out, arms beginning to end their fight and allowing you to inch closer to him. "I don't want this, I want you. D-Dates-" He falters as your hand travels up his neck to the tufts of hair at the back of his head, gently scratching at his scalp. "and cheesy stuff, not just... filing cupboards."

He'd die if he got to have you only for a few hours, and then had to live the rest of his life returning to mere friendship. He would starve to death.

"It's about time you asked."

"You really want this?" He asks, voice small. His breathing was getting harder.

"Yes." You breathe. "I have for a long time."

That was all the indication he needed, and his lips crashed against yours as his hands enveloped your waist and dragged you flush against him. You gasped at the suddenness, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips atop yours in a delicate, passionate, kiss. One of his large hands remains at the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him as the other travelled up your spine, cradling the back of your head and holding you steady as he presses into you. He groans as your fingers tighten in his hair, both of your hands winding around his neck as you push up into him.

He pulls away for breath, his hot breath fanning your cheeks as he pants. You can see his eyes, half-lidded but impossibly bright, pupils the largest you had ever seen them, staring directly into your own. "Do you have any idea how crazy you've driven me over the past years?" He asks rhetorically, voice low and husky. You don't have a chance to answer before he's kissing you again, a hand gripping at your jaw and neck as he tilts his head, his brows furrowing as he pours all his concentration into the kiss. He kisses like a man starved, like a man who depended on your lungs for oxygen, like a man who would die if he separated for a moment too long. His forked tongue slides against your bottom lip and you open your mouth without question. He licks into your mouth with giddy enthusiasm, groaning into you as his tongue finally slips into your mouth, groaning louder as you submit, tugging at his hair and allowing him to push you back into the door with a thud.

His hand falls from your neck, resuming its place against your hip, thumbs pressing dangerously into your hip bones and pinning you against the wall. You gasp against him as his fingers inch their way beneath the bottom of your blouse, pressing harshly into your supple skin as he sucks the air from your lungs.

You feel dizzy when he pulls away again, and as you catch your haggard breath he ducks his head to graze his lips against your throat. He peppers kisses beneath your ear as a hand slides down to grasp the curve of your ass, the other continuing to pin your hips against the door as he presses his hips flush against your own, rolling his hips lightly. He delves down lower, tongue snaking its way down towards the junction between your neck and shoulder, his fangs nipping at your skin as he presses hot open-mouthed kisses against your pulse point.

"Oh-" You gasp, hands clinging onto his broad shoulders as he corrals you against the doorframe. You tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck to him as he hums happily. He finds the spot he wants and presses his teeth harshly against your skin, suckling hungrily and lapping at the bruising skin with his tongue. You groan, a hand gripping his hair as he rolls his hips up, biting into your shoulder as he moans. He grinds against you, continuing to lavish your throat with his eyes closed happily, moaning and groaning into your skin. His breath catches when you roll your hips down to meet his thrusts, and he whimpers when you tug at his hair painfully when he abuses one spot on your neck too much.

"Sir-" You gasp, and suddenly his lips are withdrawn from your neck, and his wide lidded eyes are staring directly into your own. Both of your breathing is ragged as you anticipate his next move, heart in your throat.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" His hips still against your own, and you whine trying to rub against him, but he pins you in place and rests his lips against your ear, whispering, begging, against your ear. "How many more times do I need to?"

You shudder at his hot breath, hands uselessly clinging to the collar of his ruffled shirt. "Just once more."

"Say," A kiss, pressed heavily against the underside of your jaw. "my" Another kiss, hot against the column of your throat. "name." Another, lavished between your collarbones right at the hollow of your throat. You gasp at the staggering sensation, his tongue wet and hot across your collarbone.

"Lucifer." You gasp, voice high and airy. He rewards you with a grin and a fierce kiss against your lips, pressing your head back into the doorframe. You moan his name again, and his hips rock up into yours involuntarily.

"It's unfair, the effect you have." Lucifer whispers, hands sliding up your sides and beginning to unbutton your blouse. He presses a kiss at the corner of your lips as you help him with the unbuttoning. "That massage you gave me?" You can feel his breath against your lips, and you have to fight not to lean forward into him as he gently pushes your blouse from your shoulders, warm hands sliding down your arms and the fabric bunching at your elbows, not quite falling all the way. "I had to take care of myself afterwards." He tuts against your lips, each purse of his lips pressing a ghost of a kiss to your own, but not quite giving what you wanted. A knee presses between your legs as he delves his tongue into your mouth, and you're too distracted to notice until he rolls his hips into your leg and pushes his thigh up against you. His claws dig at the tender flesh of your sides, leaving light scratches as he returns to your lips, grinning against you as you gasp and whine.

"You're not so innocent." You gasp as he leaves your bruising lips to return to his path down your neck, know able to reach your shoulders and chest, which he takes full advantage of. A hand grasps your thigh firmly and hikes your leg up and around his waist. "You constantly unbutton your shirts around me, stare at me with those eyes, leave your hand on me the entire ball and don't do anything about it. How could I resist?"

"Well, I'm doing something about it now." His voice was infuriatingly giddy, his hand grabs at your thigh through the fabric of your trousers, and he internally wishes you had chosen to wear one of your skirts today. His hips roll into yours at the new angle, and he stutters at the pleasure.

"The ball was not my fault." He presses a bruising kiss against your lips, biting down gently as he pulls away. Murmuring against your ear, you can feel the smile on his lips as he talks. "You have no idea what was going through my head that night. If I had my way, I wouldn't have gotten up from my knees for hours."

The way his silky voice hissed at the last word was downright sinful, and you're too distracted by your own thoughts to realise he had ducked his head back down to your chest.

"Luci." You gasp as he travels lower, peppering kisses down the valley of your breasts, murmuring against your skin, hands sliding lower and lower and tongue chasing them down to your naval. A finger pulls playfully at the front of your bra. Oh no, he couldn't win the upper hand that easily.

Gaining confidence, and determined not to let him be his usual cocksure self, you grasp him by the collar of his shirt. "Don't be unfair." You reprimand. He doesn't protest when you lower yourself to the floor, pulling him beneath you and straddling his hips. The cupboard was just big enough for him to lay down if he bent his knees, and you grin down at him as his hands grip your thighs tightly.

Your hands rest against his chest, and you can feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he stares up at you, his fingers flexing against your thighs when you refuse to move. He tries to roll his hips up into you, but you lift yourself just out of his reach.

"Don't do this." He whines, but you only grin down at him, leaning impossibly closer until your chest presses against his. You wish you could see the blush to his cheeks, the parting of his mouth around those little gaps, but instead you settle for staring into his blown pupils.

"Whatever do you mean?" You feign ignorance, shifting lightly and revelling in the way his eyes widened and his claws dug painfully into your skin. You press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

A noise traps itself in his throat, you kiss against his jaw, his chin, the other corner of his mouth.

"Sweetheart," He moans, trying to tilt his head to catch your lips with his own. You roll your hips to distract him, and he hisses unhappily. He stares up at you with big puppy-dog eyes, a world away from the confidence he had felt at having his way with you earlier. "please."

"Good." You purr, and he whines when you finally kiss him properly, hips lowering onto him and palms sliding up his chest. You pull away and immediately begin kissing at the underside of his jaw, leaving your own trail of hickeys down the column of his throat. He squirms beneath you, breathing heavy and voice high-pitched as you kiss down his chest, pulling his collar to the side and grazing your teeth along the top of his peck.

One of his hands guide your hips against him, and he jerks his hips, the buckle of his belt biting cooly into the hot skin of your stomach. The other hand lies flat against your back, caressing your spine and sides and pulling you closer, trying to guide you back towards his lips.

He had thought he was in heaven before, but with you above him, he could barely contain himself.

Your hands pull at his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bite into the tense muscle of his shoulder. He closes his eyes painfully tight, muttering incoherently as his fingers flex against you. Your pace was beginning to quicken, and you moan against his shoulder as he whimpers and whines.

"Ngh- wait, stop." His voice breaks around the syllables. He grasps your hips tightly, knuckles white as his claws dig dangerously into the skin at your hips. "Not too fast."

"Another one of your many limitations?" You grin against his neck, feeling the way his chest heaved beneath your hands.

"Hmm," He hums, bleary eyed and uncomfortably hot, warm hand cupping your jaw and bringing your face up to meet his. "You have a way of exposing those."

You give in to what he wants, allowing him to slip his tongue back into your mouth, a hand cupping the back of your head and tangling into your hair, pulling you close and making sure you couldn't get away. You rest against him, revelling in the moment, losing your breath and humming against one another's lips.

Just as you go to move your hips, a hand planting itself against his chest to help your movement, light spills into the cupboard, and you freeze, lips detaching and staring wide-eyed at the shadowy figure stood in the cupboard doorway. You blink furiously, trying to readjust to the harsh light, but Lucifer is quicker to recover and pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to hide your bra from view.

He glares at the worker who remains standing dumbly with a hand on the door handle. Lucifer's hair was a mess, sticking out in every conceivable direction, his cheeks flushed a flaming red, shirt tugged halfway down his chest, with a smattering of lipstick across his lips and jaw, and blossoming bruises dancing across his neck and chest. You weren't in a much better state.

His eyes blaze red.

"Come back in an hour. Close the door."

The worker immediately slams the door shut, plunging the cupboard back into darkness.

Your shoulders begin to shake, laughter bubbling from your throat as you tuck your head into Lucifer's chest. He sighs, resting his head back against the floor and eyes returning to their normal complexion. When you finally compose yourself, you push yourself up with your elbows, grinning down at Lucifer with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe I was too harsh." He mutters, a hand coming up to cup your jaw. He grins cheekily, eyes shining in the darkness. "Where were we?"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #Lucifer x reader smut #x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

#phyrexia #not defining the ditch except by implication #thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia #this is technically the march of the machine review also #or as much of one as i care to do

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #percabeth #molly mumbles