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jetsetlife138 · 5 years

Text

Lofty Cries With Trembling Thighs

This is my submission for @youngmoneymilla Eliza’s 5K Challenge (Which turned out to be 15K - Oops)

Song for Inspiration was Purity Ring by Lofticries

Summary: After Loki’s attack on New York, the mischievous god takes you hostage and you find yourself in a very compromising situation. No one said being Tony Stark’s sister was going to be easy.

Paring: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Smut, Language, Stockholm Syndrome, Attempted Sexual Assault, Sex Under A Spell

Loki took an apprehensive glance around his familiar surroundings. Not so long ago he was held captive in the same type of cage made of impenetrable glass and iron. The god smirked to himself as the memory of his elder brother's helpless face entered his mind as he vindictively pushed the button that dropped the cage from the aircraft, which at the time held only his brother. He had left Thor to fall to his doom… or so Loki had hoped he would.

S.H.I.E.L.D. promptly rectified their previous mistakes and created a new, similarly built holding cell so that this time there was no chance of escaping as he was once again be held here against his will in their flying headquarters. Loki admitted to himself that he was genuinely surprised that they would detain him here considering how he had so easily escaped the last time with the help of his cohorts.

Loki released an exasperated sigh of frustration. His plans had been so quickly ruined. Midgard domination was so close that he could taste it. Something that seemed so easily attainable was no longer in his grasp. Or was it? Oh no, this was a major setback, of course, but by no means did it mean that he would lie down like a dog and accept their retribution. He would not allow himself to be dragged back to Asgard, humiliated in front of the subjects that he once lived among as a prince, only to become their inferior. Little did S.H.I.E.L.D. know that the worst thing they could have done was left Loki alone to his thoughts, for he had already begun to plan his next attempt to rule at any cost.

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"Stark! For the last time, that is property of S.H.I.E.L.D. and you do not have clearance to touch that!" bellowed Fury, clearly losing his patience with the billionaire, playboy philanthropist also known as Iron Man.

"Relax, I'm giving your outdated equipment a much needed upgrade. Are you aware that your missile reactor has cross-wired with your sub particle beam?" Tony asked airily. He looked expectantly at Fury for a reply.

Fury narrowed his good eye at him before responding. "I'll have someone look into that, but for now I need you to meet for the debriefing of the attack on New York.”

"Okay, fine," Stark replied sardonically. "But if this ship disintegrates when you apply the sub particle beam to the interlock core, I will not hesitate to trip you to be the first to escape."

Fury fought back an eye role. "Duly noted. Now, please sit down, Stark."

Stark saluted Fury mockingly before taking a seat among the other remaining Avengers. Exhaustion and exhilaration was thick in the air from their triumph of defeating an entire galactic army from taking over the world.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is working on damage control around Manhattan. We will take care of all the publicity surrounding this as well. The Council disagrees with my decision to leave the fate of Loki to you, but clearly I don't give a damn," Fury stated bluntly. "We have enough to worry about without the god of mischief still around headquarters. Do any of you have any ideas on how you will handle this situation?"

Thor was the first to speak. "It is of no question. Loki will return home to Asgard to await judgment. It is clear that Earth is not capable of detaining a god. He will accompany me when I travel back."

No one bothered to argue. It was an unspoken relief that Loki would no longer remain on Earth where the possibility of escape was easier than it would be on Asgard.

"Does anyone disagree with that?" Fury looked around at everyone's tired faces knowing that no one would oppose. "Then it's settled, Loki will return with you."

"When will that be exactly?" asked Steve, still in his dirty and torn Captain America suit.

"As soon as possible,” Thor replied. “With the Tesseract it will be a quick ascension into Asgard."

Fury rubbed his eye frustratingly with his hand. "The Council is not going to like that you are taking the Tesseract, so let's just keep our mouths shut about it until you're gone, got it?" Thor nodded in response. "The Cube is being held in Level 4 under Selvig's surveillance. I will see what I can do to clear it for removal. Until then, the rest of you get cleaned up; you're a mess. Refer to Level 2 for medical treatment."

Before Fury exited, a thought occurred to him. "Thor, you may want to take a team and get your brother some medical treatment as well. I'm not saying that watching him bleed to death would be tragic," Thor gave him a hardened look filled with warning, "but if you want him to return to your realm alive, he will need medical attention."

With that, everyone took their leave - Fury to Level 4, Thor to the detainment level, and the rest of the Avengers to Level 2.

"Clearly this is not going to work," you grumbled in frustration. "Dr. Banner, you cannot lose your temper with me. I know you don't like it, but if you want me to close that gash, you're going to need to stay calm and stop arguing with me. I kid you not, if you even start to turn green I will feel no guilt when I plunge this needle in your neck to knock you out!" Of course you were lying. you would feel guilty and you knew that if Dr. Banner started to transform they would all be in serious danger to the point where a simple needle of anesthesia would do nothing.

"I'm not arguing with you. I'm just trying to tell you that it will heal on its own. Stitches are not necessary and they won't last." Dr. Banner had to be the most patient man you had ever met, unlike you who had run out of patience hours ago after treating what seemed like endless patients from the attack on New York.

"Fine, Bruce. Then get out of my chair and let me do my job for people who really need it." Your tone was playful, but you were truly exasperated. Bruce was familiar with your way of bossing people around when you felt overwhelmed, so he didn’t take it to heart.

He chuckled as he lifted himself from the chair and his spot was quickly replaced by your brother, Tony Stark. "How are you holding up?" he asked, concerned, knowing you were working diligently so that you could quickly get to everyone you needed to.

Dismissing his concern, you replied, "My dear brother, your humanity is showing. Quick, cover it up before anyone sees!"

"I'm serious," he insisted, though the corners of his mouth lifted slightly into a grin. "I know you've been working around the clock and I don't like-"

"So have you, Tony,” you interrupted. “I'm not the one who risked my life out in the streets of Manhattan to protect the world from impending doom. Though, if we're being honest, I think you're getting old. You were really slacking out there. It took you longer than an hour to solve the problem. That’s not like you," you teased. You two were too much alike. It was a treat for others to see someone give Tony a taste of his own medicine.

"Just shut up and stitch me up, you irritating-OW!" he cried as you stuck him with a numbing needle.

You smiled menacingly with a facetious tone. "Oops, sorry, Tony!"

He mumbled insults under his breath until you had finished. Once you and your medical team had completed your work on Tony, Natasha, and Clint, you sat down and never wanted to get up again. It had been non-stop patients for the past couple of days. "Is there anyone else that needs to be seen before I pass out?" you called out, hoping that you finally had time to rest.

"Just one if you do not mind." Thor spoke from the doorway. "It seems that my brother needs medical assistance."

He entered the room with a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers surrounding the wounded god. You had seen him on the news and information screens throughout headquarters, but had yet to stand in his presence. He was clearly exhausted and refused to meet your gaze, instead searching around the room with his piercing green eyes. His hair hung in a mess loosely around his face and his clothes were torn and bloodstained.

Distracted by your distaste for the Norse god, you hadn't realized that you had not given Thor an answer. "Miss Stark?" Thor urged to gain your attention. Instead, the attention he had received was from his brother as he snapped his head up with interest.

" Miss Stark?" Loki questioned with an acidic tone. His eyes then met yours with a challenging stare, freezing you in place. He smiled wickedly, an idea quickly forming in his head before speaking, "What a privilege it is to meet you, Miss Stark."

Refraining from responding with sarcasm, you had instead nodded at Thor, and motioned for Loki to sit so that you could exam him. His gaze seemed to penetrate your soul as he studied you. In his opinion, you had somewhat of a dull appearance. Your facial structure resembled that of your brothers, though you appeared to be much younger. You had hair that was lifted into a binding contraption to be kept up out of your face in an unkempt manner. Your eyes were slightly red from exhaustion and you leered at him with loathing, a look that he was quite used to.

He was also attuned to the fact that there was also a slight hint of curiosity in your eyes as your gaze held his. It seemed as though you were searching for something in his harsh features. Not that you would find anything. Loki was quite talented at keeping his emotions and facial expressions limited. He was the god of mischief after all. What fun would it be if he so easily displayed his true feelings?

You felt uneasy as the god sat for his examination. He didn’t frighten you per se, but you could not deny that he intrigued you. There were so many questions that you wanted to ask, and yet you could hardly stand to look at him, let alone listen to him speak. He was the reason your home was destroyed. He was the cause of the hundreds of deaths in the past several days. You had never met him before now, but already you detested him. Regardless, your opinion of him did not stop you from doing your job, as much as you secretly wanted to refuse his need for medical attention.

Thor stood awkwardly in the doorway watching his brother intently. "I am needed on Level 4. If you are alright, I will take my leave until he is able to return to the detainment facility." You simply nodded your head in agreement, focused on the task at hand.

Loki watched with interest as you scribbled notes onto a clipboard and then proceeded to snap white rubber gloves onto your hands. He could not deny that though he found the human race to be repulsive and unworthy of existence, their ways of living were fascinating to observe. It was like watching ants in a colony. Everyone played their part as they were trained, but their lives were unnecessary and could easily be eradicated with a little force.

His cruel thoughts abruptly ceased when you approached him and without warning placed both of your hands on the side of his face, inspecting his wounds. He instinctively flinched away from your touch, for he was not used to such close interaction with humans. For a brief moment your eyes met, causing a stir within you, and you looked away quickly, which elicited a smirk from the god.

You walked around the room gathering items that you needed to clean and close the wounds. It was difficult with all of the security in the way and you were beginning to feel claustrophobic. "Okay!" you finally snapped. "I need you guys to get out! Please, I cannot work this way! For the love of god, just wait outside!"

One of the soldiers immediately protested, "Ma'am, we do not have clearance to leave the fugitive alone. He needs to be under 24 hour surveillance."

Huffing in response, you replied, "He’s not going to be alone. I will be here. He is restrained and I'm not saying you have to go all the way to the other side of the ship - just outside of the room. You can keep an eye on him right from the door. I am not joking when I say that one of you is going to get stabbed or sliced with one of these tools if you don't clear out!" It wasn’t normal for you to lose your temper so easily, but you were overworked and hadn't slept in the past two days. The cramped quarters were getting to you, and it didn’t help that the source of all of the slaughter was sitting right next to you.

They exchanged glances with one another, finally agreeing to step outside so long as they could see Loki clearly from the glass, which wasn’t an issue with the large windows lining the walls of the room. You could finally breathe once they filed out, giving you the space you needed to work.

Loki remained seated, silently observing his human healer. His eyes widened in surprise as you approached him with a steaming wet cloth and brushed it over his face without any explanation to your actions. "What do you think you’re doing?" he snapped, bemused and irritated.

"I can't tend to your wounds with your face being this dirty. It needs to be cleaned," you replied as you once again swept the cloth over his face.

He noted that you were not being rough with him as others had been. You had a stern, almost angry expression on your face, but you washed his face carefully. "You have a gentle touch, Miss Stark," he remarked placidly.

Confidently, you replied, "You won't be saying that when I'm sticking needles into you." Loki laughed aloud, taken aback and amused by your comment.

After a few more moments of cleansing him, Loki decided to do what he does best, and attempt to get a rise out of you. "So," he began suggestively. "Tell me, Miss Stark-"

"Y/N. Just call me Y/N," you interrupted, pulling the stitching material out of a drawer.

"Very well then," he continued with another wicked smile. "Tell me, Y/N , what is it like living in the shadow of your brother, the genius?"

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you replied sarcastically, "It's rather cold, actually. I never get to see any sun."

The god chuckled at your quick-witted response. He was beginning to find you to be quite amusing. "I would imagine so. He certainly has everything one should desire to obtain in this life. Wealth, admiration from your kind, power, love…" he trailed off, raising his eyebrows at you, pushing for a response.

Unfazed, you didn’t bother to meet his expectant gaze. Instead, you were focused on the cut on the bridge of his nose as you applied the numbing cream to prepare for stitching. "Yes, my brother is quite the lucky man," you replied flippantly, brushing him off.

You had a close relationship with your brother, but there was no jealousy between the two of you. The things that were important to Tony weren’t important to you. You didn’t really desire wealth, or admiration, or power, or even love for that matter. You found solace in doing your job and living freely without any restrictions.

Foolishly, you thought it would be a good idea to antagonize him further. "You're one to talk, Loki. You should know better than anyone what it's like to live under a shadow," you commented smugly. You knew all about his vendetta against his brother from what the others had told you. "Thor is much bigger than my brother, so I would imagine it’s got to be a much bigger shadow than the one that I’ve supposedly been under."

"Mind your tongue, girl," he snapped. The rage building in his eyes was apparent and frightening as you stared into them. "You know nothing."

"I know enough to understand what kind of man… correction, monster you are, Loki. Don't presume to think you know anything about my life. I have no interest in casual conversation with you. I'm here to do my job, so please, don't make this any more difficult than you already have."

Loki would not stand for being talked down to and he was not about to let her speak to him with such arrogance. "Do not treat me like a child.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at his wording. "What about this conversation do you find to be humorous?" he asked, annoyed at your nerve.

Still laughing, you answered, "All of it." You noted his puzzled expression as you began stitching his nose, admittedly impressed at his pain tolerance. He did not even flinch as you stitched. Though you should have known, seeing as it would take something equivalent to the Hulk to make him feel pain. "It's just amusing how much power you think you have over people while you're sitting here, restrained and waiting to go back to Asgard with your tail between your legs. You have no power over anyone anymore, so excuse me while I find amusement in your berating."

Loki was stunned; completely speechless, not from surprise, but from complete rage. How dare you. His fists were clenched so tightly he had lost feeling in them. His lip quivered involuntarily as he fought back harsh, cruel words in order to maintain his facade. Oh, you would pay for your insolence, but it would be slow, deliberate, and so painful that you would be down on your knees begging for death, and only after you had pleaded enough and suffered to his liking, would he grant you your wish in the most excruciating way possible.

His lack of a comeback both astounded and unnerved you, though you would never admit it. You couldn't help but briefly wonder what thoughts were cascading through his mind. You had immediately regretted your taunt as soon as you had said it. The worst thing you can do with a psychopath is put yourself on their radar, and you may have just accomplished that.

You had just snipped off the remaining stitching material, finishing your work. "Your words are your best defense, aren't they?" you asked, truly curious about his answer.

"No. Though a worthy and entertaining defense, it is not my best."

"Do I dare ask what your best defense is?" you asked as you began putting away your tools.

" This is my best defense," he whispered directly into your ear, making you jump. It happened in a matter of seconds. You turned your attention towards Loki who had somehow escaped his restraints and stood directly in front of you. You leapt backwards in surprise, not noticing the other Loki behind you, still sitting on the examination chair. While the other Loki distracted you, the real Loki had somehow frozen his chains that were binding him, making it easy for him to break through them with his godly strength.

The moment the double Loki appeared, security had rushed into the room, but Loki was too quick for them. As they had their eyes set on the double next to you, the actual Loki had approached you from behind placing one forceful arm around your neck and the other around your arms, locking you in an iron grasp.

"Surrender now or we will shoot!" one of the soldiers yelled while the others took aim at both gods. Too stunned to fight, you found yourself gasping for air due to his too tight grip around your neck.

"Now," Loki whispered threateningly into your ear. "Humor me, Y/N. Remind me of how powerless I really am."

You had no response as panic started to take hold of you. Loki’s cold, green eyes darted from the soldiers pointing their guns directly at him to the woman he was tightly gripping in his arms. A cunning smile was plastered across his face at the feeling of being in control once again. His double had dissolved into the air, so there was no longer any confusion as to which of the two Loki's was the real one.

"I said, stand down or we will not hesitate to shoot!" the soldier called out once more.

"Give it your best attempt, I urge you," Loki replied calmly. He knew that they would not attack while he held the sister of Tony Stark.

Loki leaned in to whisper in your ear once more, making you shiver. "You see, power is not difficult to acquire. You simply need to know when and where to make your move." Anxious to make you suffer, he grabbed your arms even tighter knowing how easily humans bruised. "I ask you, do you now find me threatening?"

"Take your hands off of me," you hissed in retaliation, fighting the urge to cry out from the ache in your arms. To your dismay, you felt the unsteadiness in your voice betraying your effort to sound brave.

He laughed darkly at your feeble demand. "I would love for you to make me."

"Loki, do we really have to do this again?" asked a familiar voice from the doorway. Loki's attention snapped from you to the man layered in shades of red, white and blue.

"Your ability to sense trouble never ceases to amaze me, Captain Rogers. Do tell me how you easily seem to make an appearance when trouble arises."

"Threats are everywhere, all the time. You just have to know where to look," Steve remarked casually.

A slight jab on the top of his foot distracted Loki for a brief moment. He smiled when he realized what it was. "Did you honestly presume that stomping on my boot would cause me enough pain to release you?" he asked you, highly amused.

Your lack of response confirmed his suspicions. He chuckled before addressing you, "You're going to have to try a lot harder than that. I am a god , you ignorant dullard. I am practically invincible to you pathetic mortals, and you think you can escape my grasp with a weak attack of your heel? Pitiful," he finished with a sneer.

You knew that it was a useless attempt, but you were far from ignorant. What Loki did not consider was that you had no intention of hurting him - but to instead distract him, which you had successfully accomplished.

As Loki scoffed at your endeavor, Steve motioned for one of the other soldiers to leave for backup, hoping it would go unnoticed by the god so that he would be caught off guard.

Once Loki's attention was turned back to the soldiers, Steve urged him once more to surrender, which went quickly dismissed by the god. "Haven't you learned anything by now?" Loki asked angrily. "I will surrender to no one. I am not one who easily falters. I refuse to lie down and be driven into the ground by such a low race of beings. You will be under my rule and I will be king of this world. You do not have the means to contain me forever. There is not a single doubt that dwells in my mind that you shall all fall to my glory, beginning with this wretched excuse for a life in my grasp," he spat as his gaze fell on you.

"You can go to hell," you retaliated against him, though still in immense pain from his grip.

He pressed his face against you so that you could feel his smile against your cheek as he whispered, "What you fail to realize, Y/N, is that I have already been there. You know nothing of hell, but I promise you this…," he murmured as he leaned in impossibly closer to you. "You will."

You hadn’t considered Loki's presence to be truly terrifying until that moment. With those words your blood seemed to turn cold as your breath became shallow and hitched as you remained stiff against his body. He was pleased as he took notice of your fear and laughed silently to himself.

Glancing towards the soldiers, you had wondered if they had heard Loki's cruel words, but by the confused and intrigued face of Captain Rogers, they had not.

Pleased with the desperate expression on their faces, Loki slowly removed his hand and brought you closer to him. Groaning in refusal, you tried to lean away, but you were no match for his strength. He wanted to get a rise out of Captain Rogers and in doing so, he slowly bent down to gently place his lips on your neck, kissing it softly, eyes never leaving the Captain’s enraged face.

Upon feeling the god's lips on your neck, you ripped away, revolted. He pulled you back abruptly, laughing wickedly. "Your courage is short-lived, mortal. Tell me, do you fear death?"

Ignoring him completely, you were too focused on Captain Roger’s bemused expression, which wasn’t what you were expecting. It was as if he was not even looking at you or Loki, but past you both through the window. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t dare glance behind you in fear that you would give away whatever it was that caught his attention.

Unfortunately, Loki had a keen sense and was very aware of his surroundings, immediately taking notice that he no longer held the attention of the group of soldiers. Intrigued, he took a moment to turn around to observe what the others had been so captivated by.

He did not even get the chance to fully face the direction of the distraction. A sudden large blow to his head caused him to release you from his grip. A blunt object had shattered through the glass behind him, pushing him with such force that he fell through the hard walls of the room. Irritated, he pulled himself out of the debris and brushed off his clothing as he faced his assailant.

Iron Man stood before him, guns blazing with Captain America by his side, his own shield raised in defense. Loki tightened his lips together in displeasure as his eyes wandered past them to observe you, quickly being pulled to safety and guarded by the other soldiers.

"I was beginning to think you would fail to make an appearance, Stark," Loki huffed.

"I wouldn't miss an opportunity to battle with the Rock of Ages," Stark sneered, trying to cover his anger with humor.

"By all means," Loki smiled, attempting to provoke him into action, "Enlighten me with your combat expertise."

"I plan to," Stark stated simply, signalling for the other soldiers to remove you from the room.

Loki watched intently as his eyes followed the soldier escorting you out into the hallway. He was nowhere near finished with you yet and would surely see you again soon. It was his new mission.

The moment the two of you had left the room, Loki was blasted back into the wall by an explosive to his chest. He growled with vexation as he once again crawled from the debris. With a sly smirk, he quickly multiplied himself into at least twenty different Loki's scattered all over the room, laughing menacingly. Steve seemed to be fighting empty air as he punched through them, searching for the real Loki.

Stark turned on his heat sensor to scan the room to find the real Loki. Before it was complete he was assaulted from the back of his head, causing his suit to spark from the impact. He quickly turned for a counter attack, but never got the chance. Following his attack on Stark, Loki was cursing and squirming for he had been apprehended and was being held tight within Thor's arms.

"Release me, you ignorant brute!" Loki bellowed, seething in his grasp.

It hardly seemed to be a struggle for Thor to keep Loki locked within his iron grip. "Be reasonable, brother. This is for your own good as well as everyone on this ship."

"You do not actually believe that, do you?" Loki argued against Thor, still trying to separate himself from him. "We are gods ! I should not be treated so lowly! These humans think that they can contain me with their contraptions? They will soon learn otherwise!"

"Take him back to the holding cell," Steve demanded. "We'll maintain the twenty-four hour surveillance to watch over him in case he tries anything else.

Thor held Loki in position while one of the soldiers bound his wrists in chains. Loki sighed in irritation as he refrained from struggling any longer.

He allowed Thor and a team of soldiers to escort him back to the cell he had come to know so well. On the walk back to his prison, his eyes wandered to a room where you were being inspected by the rest of the medical team to ensure you weren’t compromised. When your eyes met Loki's he gave you a wide, wicked smile before he winked, providing an unspoken promise as he passed the room and continued to his holding cell.

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Hours later, much to his annoyance, Loki’s cell was surrounded by the Avengers. He eyed his visitors, pleased at their frustrated, brooding gazes. "What have I done that deserves such an audience?" he asked with false innocence.

Fury stepped forward with a stern gaze. His posture was noticeably stiff as he spoke. "Your attempt to kidnap a civilian was a futile attempt to escape. I cannot begin to wonder what goes on in that head of yours, but did you really think that your plan would work?"

Loki tilted his head back and barked a low, vigorous laugh. "That was not an attempt to kidnap one of your kind. My gesture was a simple greeting and a promise."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" asked Fury, suspicion evident in his voice. Loki's lips peeled back from his teeth to reveal a sinful smile for a response.

Tony, still in his Iron Man suit, less the helmet, walked toward the glass that was imprisoning Loki. "And now I have a promise for you; If you even so much as think about laying your hands on my family again, I'll kill you. That’s a promise that I intend to keep." His face was livid, his upper lip curling in loathing at the god.

Steve and Natasha gave Stark a look of warning in response to his provocation, which he either didn’t notice, or blatantly ignored due to being too focused on Loki.

"Such a temper, Mr. Stark." He paused for effect and also to relish in Tony's look of frustration. "I have plans for the rest of you, but for her… she will suffer in ways that you cannot even imagine; not even in your worst nightmares."

Tony punched the glass with the suit, causing the entire cage to shake, compromising its hold. Steve and Clint grabbed Tony to drag him from the room as he shouted profanities, which were drowned out by Loki's maniacal laughter.

Once Tony was out of earshot, Fury turned towards Loki tiredly. "I do not have the patience to sift through your head of craziness to find out what you’re really up to right now, but we have a lot of time. Get comfortable, because you're going to be in here for a long time." He slowly walked out of the room, followed by Natasha and Bruce, leaving Thor alone with his brother.

"Have you no remorse, brother?" Thor asked heatedly with an underlying sadness.

Loki sneered with annoyance. "I have little remorse for those who are so far beneath me."

"You think yourself above them?"

"Well, yes," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I assumed that much was clear."

Thor took a moment to contemplate before asking, "Do you think yourself above me ?"

"I do," Loki simply stated. "You are arrogant, you are reckless, and you do not have what it takes to be a King."

"Tell me, Loki. What are the qualities a true King should possess?" Thor questioned, his anger becoming more apparent. "Is it greed? Selfishness? Pride? If those are indeed the requirements for a King than you truly are well on your way."

"Do not criticize me," Loki warned. "It takes power, insight, strength, knowing your place, and understanding the role of those beneath you."

"You are so blinded by your own jealousy that you cannot see the truth!" Thor shouted, masking his heartache with rage. "Loki, this is madness!"

"Is it madness?" Loki snarled, his lip quivering with rage. "You can keep me locked in this mortal-made contraption as long as you see fit, but you know as well as I do that it will not keep me. The Tesseract may have the power to return us to Asgard, but for how long? I will rule this realm and there is nothing that you, nor any other being can do to stop it. It has been written in the stars, and I will do what I must to ensure my rightful place on the throne." His voice had become a growl and his body shook with fury as he slowly approached the glass in front of Thor.

"You wish to know if I have remorse? You will soon discover how little remorse I have, brother," he spat at the last word. "Now, remove yourself from my presence," he demanded as he turned away from Thor, indicating that the conversation was finished.

Thor sighed, his heart filled with grief. "I shall not give up hope for you. I believe that one day you will come to your senses and willingly reclaim your place amongst us in Asgard - your home."

"Leave me!" Loki demanded, still turned from his brother.

He waited a moment before he heard Thor's heavy footsteps leaving the room, shutting the large door behind him without another word.

It was not long before he heard the door open once more, softer footsteps approaching his cage. "I will not say it again!" he shouted angrily. "I am in no mood for your lecture!"

"I didn't come here to lecture you," replied a smooth, calm voice.

Loki whipped around, surprised to see you standing alone before him. He eyed you carefully before speaking. "What has possessed you to speak with me if not to lecture me?"

"I'm a curious person. I have questions," you answered simply.

"And you presumed that I would hand them over to you without any fuss?" he asked in return.

A slight smile graced the corners of your mouth. "No, which is why I thought I would use my charm and wit to obtain them."

"You're as arrogant as your brother," Loki scoffed, meaning to sound harsh but instead came across as amused.

"And you're selfish, unlike your brother," you pointed out flippantly.

Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he held your gaze patiently, waiting for you to avert your gaze in discomfort at the intense eye contact. When you didn't, he stepped closer to you, curiosity overcoming his psychological tactics. Breaking his focus, his eyes fell to the bandage wrapped around your wrist that he had apparently injured when he held you. You took notice and lifted it up to give him a better view. "You didn't break it," you began. "It’s just a sprain."

"I know," he plainly stated.

"You know?"

He nodded.

"What was the point? It hurt like hell, but you’re back to where you started, so I really don’t see how hurting me did you any favors," you stipulated.

Growing bored of the discussion, he quickly changed the subject. "You spoke of questions you sought answers to. Do not waste my time any further. Ask them," he demanded.

You were slightly taken aback by his somewhat compliant demeanor, but didn’t dwell on it too long. "Why didn't you kill me? You could have done so easily. Why didn't you?"

Loki huffed, already irritated with you. "Was it not obvious? I needed you as leverage to escape."

Still watching him carefully, you took a moment before replying. "Liar."

"Take care how you speak, girl," he warned.

Stepping closer towards the glass imprisoning him, you continued, "If you were so intent on escaping you could have done so much more easily than hiding behind me like a coward."

"I am no coward!" he bellowed, coming forward, rage evident in his piercing green eyes. "I am a god, and I fear nothing ! Especially fragile, pathetic mortals."

Swallowing thickly, you felt uneasy, but stood your ground. "Why is power so important to you?"

He growled and began pacing around his cell trying desperately to maintain his sanity. "You need to leave," he snapped.

"You haven't answered any of my questions," you protested, not at all happy with how abruptly the conversation came to an end.

To your surprise, he then threw himself against the glass, fuming. "You damn fool! I did not kill you because that would be too easy and too quick! Your lack of respect for me is insufferable and you shall pay for your insolence!"

The grin you had on your face fell the more he spoke, true terror arising within you. "It will be my dearest pleasure - my sincerest delight to make you suffer. I crave to see the look in your eyes as I am ripping the skin from your bones, you intolerable quim. That is why I did not kill you!"

He relished in your frightened expression as you stepped back from the glass, the shock of the situation evident in your movements. "As for power, I do not seek it, I deserve it," he hissed. "I was born to be a King, and with that comes power. I am burdened with glorious purpose, something that you will never understand." When he was finished, he was breathless, panting due to his emotional outburst.

Still taken aback by his violent and threatening words, you prodded your cheek with your tongue in thought. Just like your brother, you were nothing if not persistent, and though you feared for your life, you were not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Well," you spoke airily before turning around to walk out of the room, "I'm sure that in the end you'll get everything you deserve, Loki."

He knew the true meaning behind your words as you exited, but said nothing. He quickly grew tired of this game and needed to put his plan into action. It was time for him to break free of this absurd cage and begin his new life as King of Midgard.

Once finally back in your suite, you didn't waste any time in heading for your shower, turning on the hot water, undressing and stepping in. You exhaled a sigh of relief as the steaming water engulfed you, finally able to wash away all of the grime, blood, and dirt that had gathered on you over the past couple of days.

As you cleansed yourself, you heard someone calling your name distantly. Irritated by the interruption, you stuck your head outside of the shower to answer. "I'm in here! What do you need?" you called out.

No response.

Shrugging your shoulders, you continued with your shower. Not even a minute later, you heard your name again. The voice was low and soft, sounding close by. Once again you shouted out, "Yes? I'm in the bathroom. Who's there?"

Once again, there was no response.

Huffing impatiently, you quickly rinsed so you could find out what was going on. You stepped out of the shower carefully into the steamy room, wrapping a towel around yourself. Walking past the mirror, you noticed something odd in the foggy reflection. Pausing for a moment, you wiped away the steamy layer covering it. Staring at your reflection, you froze in shock. Red liquid was falling from your eyes in small droplets, leaving trails of scarlet down your face. Hesitantly, you touched your fingertips to your cheek and pulled them away to view the liquid substance that you now understood was blood. There was no denying it; you worked around it every day.

Beginning to panic, your breath quickened as your heartbeat thrummed faster while you looked from the blood on your fingers to the streaks on your face, all the while more blood was falling from your eyes.

Hyperventilating, you turned to grab some tissues to dab them on your face to wipe away the blood, but when you inspected the tissue, there was no blood.

Glancing back to the mirror, your sanity came into question as you realized that you were no longer crying blood. Stunned, you blinked your eyes several times to make sure that everything was alright. Clearly you had become deranged from lack of sleep and mental exhaustion.

During your panic, you heard a familiar chilling laugh echoing softly throughout the bathroom. Whipping around to investigate, you tried to determine where it was coming from, but saw no one. That's when it occurred to you what had just happened.

Outraged, you hastily clothed yourself with a tank top and shorts before stomping your way out of your room and across the ship to the containment facility holding the mischievous god.

Bursting through the doors and fuming with annoyance, you addressed him bitterly. "What the hell kind of game do you think you're playing?" you questioned furiously.

He smiled crookedly before replying in a mocking tone, "Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

"How dare you!" you roared, your loud voice bouncing off of the walls in the large room. "How the hell did you even do that? Your powers are supposed to be contained in there! And what was the point? What, you think by messing with me I’m going to race in here and just let you out? You’re not as crafty as you think, Loki! You’re not Shawshaking your way out of there."

"I am unfamiliar with your references," he replied, eyes boring into yours. "But you should not have made the mistake of underestimating me."

"What is it that you want from me?" you asked, your rage quickly diminishing into exasperation. "Why do you find the need to keep torturing everyone around you?"

"Your torture has only begun," he promised as he seethed from behind the glass.

"Stay the hell away from me, Loki."

"I plan to do the exact opposite, Miss Stark," he replied with an acidic tone.

Preparing a snappy retort, you opened your mouth to respond, but before the words even left your mouth the room went dark. It was pitch black around you, and you couldn't even see an inch in front of your face. A loud bang rang through the room and the floor beneath you started to shake. You quickly turned to try and run to find your way back to the door, but you were violently grabbed from behind. Before you could try to scream your mouth was aggressively covered by a rough, cold hand. The chilling sound of Loki's low voice started to whisper words into your ear that you couldn’t even begin to decipher. It took a moment for you to realize that he was speaking in another language. Moments later, your mind went hazy and your consciousness started to slip away as you unwillingly drifted off into a deep sleep.

The involuntary shivering of your body is what woke you. Scrunching your forehead and eyes fluttering open, you fought to regain clarity as your mind recollected what had happened before you passed out. Forcing yourself to sit up, you groaned aloud in protest of the soreness of your body. When your vision cleared, you outwardly gasped at your surroundings.

You were lying on a king-sized bed with a canopy overhead, so comfortable that you almost didn’t want to get up. Looking around, you noticed that you were surrounded by regal decour in a large room. There was a fireplace on the wall opposite you with fancy, velvety couches in the middle of the room, facing each other with a small table in between. Vintage damask green and gold designs lining the walls with a golden trim along the dark, plush carpet. What held your attention most of all was the fact that there were no windows or doors of any kind - only solid walls.

A shiver ran through you again, causing you to instinctively wrap your arms around your shuddering form to try to retain some warmth. Where were you and how the hell could you have gotten here?

"Hello?" you croaked out due to your dry throat.

No answer.

Clearing your throat to evoke some volume, you screamed at the top of your desperate for someone to acknowledge your presence.

"There's no need to raise your voice to such a level," responded an intense, velvety voice.

Turning to your left in the corner of the room, you saw the mischievous god, sitting casually in a chair, legs crossed, watching you intently. "Loki!" you snapped, your chest tightening at your situation. "Where the hell did you take me?"

“I believe that I had promised to make you suffer, my dear. To break such a promise would undoubtedly prove to be imprudent, would it not?"

Still shaking, you forced yourself out of the bed and onto your feet, daringly stepping closer to your captor. "Tell me where we are, Loki," you demanded.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly into an arrogant smirk, which irritated you. "Our current location is irrelevant, for you will be begging for death soon enough."

The malice in his voice was evident, which only encouraged you to be more aggressive. "You're even more insane than I thought."

He stood up then, his movement graceful and unnaturally fluid. Walking towards you in gentle strides, he seemed to glide towards you, his black and green robes flowing as he moved. When he reached you, you stood your ground, too upset to think clearly. His hand snapped forward, roughly wrenching your face closer to his, earning an involuntary groan of protest. You could already feel the bruises forming on your cheeks due to his fingers gripping you so tightly.

"Take care how you speak," he threatened dangerously as he relished at your exclamation of pain. "Allow me to make this perfectly clear; you are going to expire here, Miss Stark. I have brought you here to ensure your much-deserved anguish. Your outbursts and insults have been uncouth and not at all appropriate for your future King. I shall use you to set an example for all those who believe that there is hope. I intend to not only break your spirit, Y/N, but your earthly body as well. When I am finished with you, I will return your corpse to your dear brother so that he may see my good work. Do you understand me, mortal?"

The malevolence in his eyes as he spoke shook you to your core. His words were venomous and cut through you like daggers, and the weight of them prevented you from thinking of anything to say in response…

So you spat in his face.

He pushed you away with so much force that you fell backwards onto the floor, taking the opportunity to crawl back as far as you could to distance yourself while Loki made noises of disgust. You didn’t get very far since the large bed was right behind you.

"You foolish wretch! Where do you find the audacity?" he bellowed, wiping away your saliva from his face. "You're more trouble than you're worth," he complained as he picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder as if you were a rag doll.

You landed with a thud as he threw you onto one of the sofas in front of the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, you found your wrists and legs bound together in rope while a cloth forced its way around your head in front of your mouth, preventing you from speaking clearly.

You stared daggers at Loki, not missing the way he grinned as he inspected your, admiring his handiwork. Your protests and explicatives were muffled due to the cloth, and sadly uninterpretable.

Loki chuckled as he stood over you, extending his arm to brush back the hair that had fallen forward when he carried you. "I very much prefer you this way," he commented on your inability to speak.

The glare you gave him could have destroyed even the hulk if it had any power behind it. However, he wasn’t fazed in the slightest. "I am truly curious as to what you're attempting to say, dear Y/N. Please, enlighten me," he cooed deceptively, snapping his fingers.

Relief quickly turned to embarrassment as you released a quiet sob once the gag was removed. Loki's lips peeled back into a satisfied grin, making you want to slap it right off of him.

He moved closer to you, his posture stiff with his hands held behind his back in an elegant stance. "For one who seems unable to control her tongue, you seem to be at a loss for words," he teased slyly.

Instead of bellowing slurs like you had originally wanted, you simply laughed, causing Loki's forehead to crease with curiosity. "You know, Loki," you took a moment to pause while you released a frustrated sigh. "You think you're so superior to me and to humans in general, but if you would take a moment to consider it, we're not so different."

"Your theory is fascinating," he retorted with mock interest.

Not commenting further, you interpreted his intense gaze as an indication to continue. "It's evident that you're in search of something that you aren't getting in your realm, wherever the hell it is that you're from."

"Asga-... Jötunheimr," he nearly spat with distaste.

"Okay, fine," you continued. "Like a lot of humans, you seem to want the impossible. You may have powers and supernatural strength, agility, etcetera, but you're still a lost soul, trying to find your purpose in life."

Loki's eyes narrowed dangerously causing a chill to run through you, but you continued regardless. "Additionally, you, like many humans, are selfish, cruel, and ruthless. The only difference, is that even underneath all of that, most humans have an underlying sense of decency and goodness. You, on the other hand, will never be more than a conceited child - throwing fits and demanding attention. So, before you put yourself on a pedestal, recognize where you stand among every race of beings that you've encountered. You're hated by humans, gods, and from what I can tell, also by any other creature you have come across. You are no better than them. You're not superior to any of us."

Involuntarily, you found yourself cowering slightly as Loki’s expression went blank, slowly reaching for your face. Just as before, he painfully jabbed his thumb and finger into your cheeks as he brought your face closer to his own. His upper lip quivered with rage as he seethed at you. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke dangerously lowly. "I will show you just how different we are, Miss Stark."

Still holding your gaze with his own, your eyes widened when his emerald green orbs slowly started to change from the light color to a pool of red and black. Captivated by his eyes, you did not even notice his skin changing color as well into a frosty blue until he brought his other hand towards you to hold your throat tightly enough so that it was difficult to breathe, but not so harshly as to cut off air completely.

Regardless of his actions, you were awestruck by his appearance. He was unlike anything you’d ever seen. It was known that he wasn’t biologically Asgardian, but you had never pictured him to look this way. He looked menacing, sure, but there was also a mystifying factor and even a sense of beauty about him. It was strangely mesmerizing.

He quickly resorted back to his familiar coloring as he continued to clutch your throat tightly. "I easily grow tired of your senseless rants, mortal. Perhaps I should permanently resolve the issue," he said as he gave your throat an extra squeeze before viciously thrusting you back onto the couch, releasing his grip and standing over you once more.

Clutching your throat and coughing at the intrusion, you couldn’t contain your facial expression as you looked him over.

"Do not pity me," he snapped.

Surprised that he knew exactly what you were thinking, you replied, "You make it hard for me not to pity you, Loki. You have such misplaced rage and it’s just… it’s very sad.”

A surprise shriek escaped you when he unexpectedly wrenched you from the couch. One of Loki's hands gripped the hair at the back of your head tightly and the other was positioned around your waist, pressing you close to his form. "Let go of me," you grunted as you pushed against his chest.

He was like a solid rock against your attempts to create some space. You shivered as his raspy voice came close to your ear. "One way or another, you, you will show me respect. Even if I have to rip it out of you as death envelopes you, I will have it. It would suit you well to accept that now rather than later."

Before you had a chance to respond he dropped you to the floor. You released a painful grunt as you hit the ground hard, eliciting a frustrated sigh from the god. "Your incessant mewling is pathetic and I can no longer tolerate it."

"Oh, excuse me for not handling being kidnapped and thrown around like a champ," you snapped, earning yourself an exasperated eye roll from Loki as he bent over to effortlessly pick you up, uncharacteristically being more gentle than he had previously as he carried you in his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

“I must take my leave,” he mumbled, turning away from you.

“What?!” you all but shrieked. “You can’t just leave me here! For fuck’s sake, what do you want with me?”

“All in good time, Miss Stark,” he promised with a wink.

With your hands and feet still bound, he left you to your thoughts as he snapped his fingers and faded into nothing.

---------------------

Heimdall could watch no more. He turned his gaze away from Loki, stricken by his actions.

"Good Heimdall, what troubles you?" asked a soft, regal voice.

"My Queen, I fear that I have only remorseful news to bring you."

Frigga placed her hand upon Heimdall's large shoulder and looked kindly into his eyes. "Tell me, Heimdall."

With his alert eyes meeting Frigga’s expectant blue ones, he responded as thoughtfully as possible. "It is Loki, my Queen. He is unyielding in his search for power and his scheming knows no end. I do not yet know of his plans, but he is adamant on supremacy and revenge. He has recently taken upon himself to indulge in the captivity and torture of humans, one in particular."

The Queen’s eyes were tired and filled with grief. "Heimdall, I believe it may be time to take matters into my own hands."

"If I may be so bold, what is it you plan to do?"

Frigga stepped to the edge of the rainbow bridge where the Bifrost once stood and looked upon the endless galaxy before her, taking a moment of reflection before her reply. "I will provide Loki with what he has craved for so long… love and adoration from humans." She turned to meet Heimdall's curious gaze. "One in particular."

---------------------

"Tony, you need to calm down," Natasha urged quietly, demonstrating one of her many talents by power of persuasion. Unfortunately for her, Stark was not as easily swayed as her previous targets had been.

Tony was leaning on the counter top, holding his head in his hands, and tightly gripping his hair in anger and frustration.

Bruce stepped closer to the hot-headed Tony Stark, avoiding the shards of glass spread across the floor due to Tony's fit of rage that was taken out on his own mini bar. "I know that what you're going through is difficult, but you're directing your rage in the wrong area."

"The big guy knows better than anyone," chimed in Clint from the corner, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms in an almost bored posture. “You should listen to him.”

Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I do know what I'm talking about. You need to separate yourself from the situation. Take a step back, and try to think clearly."

That made Tony’s head snapped up, his hair slightly out of place from his grip. His brown eyes darted around the room in a panic before they settled on Bruce. "How exactly do you expect me to remove myself from this outlandish situation, Banner?" He stepped around the bar, walking closer to the remaining Avengers, the glass loudly crunching beneath his shoes with every step. "Y/N is my goddamn sister. I’m responsible for her, and I failed to protect her. How can I step away from that?"

"Mr. Stark, with all due respect, Y/N is an adult. You are not her bodyguard and you are not responsible for what happens to her." Tony's head whipped around so fast it was almost unnatural, his glare now falling on the man dressed in patriotic colors, standing on the far left of the room with a somber look on his face.

"Tell me, Rogers," Tony nearly spat. "Who have you had to look after? You are responsible for no one but yourself. Everyone you knew or cared for has passed on. You have absolutely no comprehension as to where my responsibilities lie with my sister."

Steve's jaw tightened at Tony's harsh words. His thoughts immediately went to the last World War he took part in. He remembered the look in his friend's eyes as they widened with fear as he plummeted from the train into the dark, snowy ravine. He had failed to protect his friend. He knew all too well what Stark was feeling, but he had learned to cope with the loss by convincing himself that it was out of his control and no one was to blame.

"I think what we're all getting at is that instead of standing around arguing, we should come up with a plan and execute it. In order to do that, we need clear heads so that we can think reasonably," the soldier spoke with patience.

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Clint asked, still in his relaxed stance, arms still crossed. "A rescue mission? Because the last time I checked, no one had any idea of Loki's whereabouts and there's nothing that we have that will lead us to him. We have absolutely nothing to go on."

"That's not exactly true," Natasha advised, interrupting Clint's rant. "We have him ," she insinuated as she pointed towards Thor.

Everyone's attention turned towards Thor who had been waiting silently by the door, gazing out of the window lost in his thoughts over the situation they had found themselves to be in. Turning his gaze towards Natasha, he asked, "Me?"

"Yes, you," she answered. "You know Loki better than any of us. You know his habits and behaviors. Where is somewhere that he would go to hold someone captive and remain hidden?"

Thor's face was somber and he carried a sad, defeated expression on his face, which was not one he expressed often. "You forget that I have been estranged from Loki for quite some time. He attempted to end my life several times. The ties that bind us have been broken and I may not know him as well as I once thought. I may not be of any help."

"It's worth a shot," The Captain spoke sternly, nodding to Thor for him to continue.

Thor lifted his fisted hand to his chin, a motion he did when he was deep in thought. He sifted through his thoughts and spoke them aloud. "Loki is no fool, but he is a creature of habit. He will seek a place that is remote and not easily accessible."

Clint chuckled quietly in the corner. "Well, that's specific." His laughing was instantly silenced when he caught a glimpse of Tony's glare. "Anything else?" he asked, hoping to avert Tony's attention away from him.

Thor continued as if he was uninterrupted. "Loki does not take well to defeat. He will return with a vengeance, which is perhaps why he has taken your sister. He may have plans for her, or it may have just been a ruse to disorient S.H.I.E.L.D. Regardless, I know that he is plotting revenge, not only on me, but the rest of you as well." He paused as he gazed out of the window again. "I do not have Heimdall's sight, and I cannot return home without Loki, and even if I did there would be no way for me to return to Earth. However, there may be a way to contact Heimdall and he may lend us his sight so that we may find my brother. Until then, all we can do is wait and you must search for any abnormal occurrences throughout your planet."

Bruce sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes in frustration. "That's easier said than done," he remarked tiredly. "This is a large planet."

"This is true," Thor continued. "But knowing Loki he will make an appearance and it will be drastic. He enjoys toying with other beings and he will grow restless if he is kept hidden for too long. He craves attention and it will not take him long to draw you to him, whether that is his intention or not."

"So basically your solution is to sit back and wait?" Tony accused angrily.

Thor nodded. "For now, that is all that can be done."

"That's bullshit!" Tony shouted, completely losing his temper. "I refuse to sit here and wait around for a sign that we may or may not catch! Are you aware that my sister could be dead by now?"

Fully turning his concentration towards Tony, Thor answered, "It is a possibility, though highly unlikely."

"I will not stand by and do nothing," Tony seethed. "I will find her."

Slowly, Thor walked over to Tony and placed one of his large hands on Stark's shoulder in a reassuring way. "My friend, your mind is clouded with anger. I am aware of your need to find your sister, but do you even know where to begin?"

"That's not the point –"

"That is the point," interrupted Thor. "I urge you to just allow us a day or two to sort this out."

Tony's jaw clenched with impatience. "It's been too long already."

"I know," said Thor dejectedly. "But please, just a bit more time."

Tony thrust Thor's hand from his shoulder, even more heated than before. "Am I the only one who's first concern is Y/N?" His behavior was close to hysterical at this point. “I’m going after her. Now.”

---------------------

Loki walked with a steady pace towards the bedchamber where you were being held. He was unsure of his feelings as thoughts raced through his mind as he walked. He should be content with keeping you here as his prisoner. He had all the leverage he needed with Tony Stark’s sister at his disposal, and yet he felt… unfulfilled.

When he materialized in the room, his forehead creased in confusion as he saw you lying on the bed, contently singing to yourself. He had assumed that you would be in as much of a sour mood as you had previously been. Something wasn’t right.

Sensing another presence, you had turned to see who had entered your room and beamed with excitement as your eyes rested upon Loki.

His brow rose in skepticism as you stepped down from the bed and approached him. Too stunned to react, he allowed you to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace, sighing with contentment. “I’ve been waiting for you,” you murmured into his chest.

Completely at a loss for words, he gawked at you, dumbfounded as you released him and stared into his eyes, not a single trace of malice or loathing found in them. "I've missed you," you cooed with an inviting grin before you leaned up towards him and placed your lips softly on his own.

Coming to his senses, Loki aggressively pushed you off of him, causing you to stumble backwards, though you managed to catch yourself from falling. He didn’t miss the fact that you looked truly hurt and confused.

"What's the matter with you?" you asked, the pain evident in your voice.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes transfixed on you in shock. What had happened to you? Could it have been the isolation? You couldn’t have been alone for more than a few hours. Were humans truly this delicate? Had he broken your mind? So many more questions raced through his mind as the silver-tongued god found himself at a loss for words.

You waited patiently for an answer, you own eyes searching his mystified emerald ones. A few more moments passed before he finally spoke. "Your mind is not your own," he finally decided.

“Excuse me?”

He turned his gaze from you, and mumbled out loud, "Being around my power must have affected you more than I had anticipated." His fists clenched in anger as he continued to talk to himself. "This was not my intention. You were supposed to remain the same."

"Stop mumbling Loki, I can't hear you," you urged with frustration, puzzled by his behavior. You continued to edge towards him carefully until you were directly in front of him, close enough to feel his breath on your face. Placing your hands around his muscular upper arms, you squeezed with reassurance. "You really need to relax. There's no need to get so easily stressed," you said softly as you placed another brief kiss on his lips.

Stunned that he once again allowed you to kiss him, his mind began to race even more so than before. This was not possible. Too much exposure to power would have left you broken and incoherent. It would not have changed your entire personality into one of a lovesick being.

Of course! How did he not see this before? It was a game. You were toying with him in hopes of finding a way to escape. Not at all in imminent danger, you were eliciting a facade and now you were going to try to convince him that your disgust had been replaced with loving thoughts for him. What a clever girl!

He grinned with satisfaction as he put the pieces together in his head and finally allowed his eyes to lock onto yours. He would play your game… and he would win.

He slowly placed his hand on the back of your head to aggressively take a handful of your hair and force your lips to his. The brutality of his actions caused you to whimper in pain at first, but as the kiss deepened, your noises turned into small moans of passion. Together, your lips moved in a synchronized motion as Loki slid his tongue along your bottom lip, silently demanding entrance. He chuckled into your mouth as you quickly opened up to him and allowed him to explore your mouth with his hot, wet muscle.

He was slightly taken aback when you fought back against him for dominance, your hands reaching behind his neck and pulling yourself even nearer to him. Still not feeling close enough, you jumped up onto him, causing him to stumble back in surprise. Quickly, he released your hair and placed a hand on each of your legs, hiking you upwards so that you were now level with him while your feet no longer touched the floor.

Refusing to yield, Loki then carried you over to the bed. He roughly tossed you onto the bed, hardly giving you time to catch your breath as you landed with an "oof" before he was on top of you again, his lips capturing yours in a fight for dominance.

Turning your head to the side to steal a few breaths of air, Loki wasted no time as he moved his lips down your jaw to your neck and sucked lightly, eliciting quiet whimpers from you as you trembled beneath him.

"Loki," you finally managed to speak, your voice straining. He ignored you and continued to kiss and lick the soft skin tissue of your neck. Fighting to keep coherent, you complained, "Loki, wait a minute. Your armor is too heavy."

Loki ceased his physical exploration. He was winning at your little game and he could sense your retreat getting closer. Your odd statement was a request for him to remove his protection and leave himself more vulnerable to you. Though you were a mere mortal, too weak to hurt him even with his armor removed, he was skeptical as to why you did not come to that conclusion yourself.

He smiled deviously at you before his body began to emit a golden glow with bright rays forming around his armor before it faded away, revealing his slender form in a dark green robe along with black trousers. Sighing with relief as the extra weight lifted, you gave him a thankful smile in return.

"Is this better?" he asked, staring down at you, now even more alert than before. He was waiting for you to make your move and when you did, he would be ready for it.

"Much better," you answered, grinning.

"Excellent." Loki did not waste any time in capturing both of your hands into one of his as he held them in a tight grip above your head as he leaned towards you and continued to kiss you as he had before. He used his other hand to begin to explore your body, knowing that you would break soon. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his. He stilled for a moment, shocked that this was actually earning a slight reaction from him, causing a small bulge to form in his trousers. This would not do. He had to break you sooner than he had planned.

His hand made its way to your jeans and he quickly succeeded in unbuttoning them before slowly pulling down the zipper. Midgardian clothes were foreign to him, but it was easy enough to figure out how to work them. Hiking your pants down just slightly, it allowed himself enough room to give his large hands entrance to your most private of areas. He knew that you would never allow him to touch you there.

He cautiously edged his hand into your pants towards and waited. This earned a moan of desire from you, which caused him to halt completely. He removed his lips and hands from you before climbing off of you with a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Loki?" you asked breathlessly as you looked him over. "What's wrong?"

His teeth clenched, the feeling of defeat evoking rage. "Did you really think that this would work?" he seethed.

"What are you talking about?" you asked as you sat forward on the bed, buttoning your pants, figuring that your moment of intimacy was done for the time being.

He turned to stare daggers at you, his cold stare turning your blood to ice. "Did you really believe that I would stoop so low as to take a repulsive mortal into my bed? Your plan was poorly executed. You are a fool to think that you could deceit the god of lies!" He had risen from the bed, his armor had returned to his body and he was shaking with rage.

Gaping at him, you were unsure of what to say. Eventually, your anger got the better of you. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you brought me here! My mortality hasn’t stopped you yet, so why is it such a problem now?"

His brows came together in annoyance and perplexity. "You cannot possibly think that I would fall for your far-fetched tale of ignorance!"

Standing up from the bed, not a single trace of fear evident in your face, you walked closer to him, your eyes blazing. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. How dare you," you spat, causing his eyes to widen. "You've got a lot of nerve, Loki."

A thought then crossed his mind as he searched your eyes for a hint of a lie, but he could find none. Somehow, you had formed an alternate reality in your subconscious, one in which they were coupled and dwelled together in cohabitation.

He relaxed his shoulders a bit and released much of his anger in a long sigh, but remained cautious. "Humor me, Y/N. What do you remember about yesterday?"

You crossed your arms in annoyance at his request. He fought the urge to smirk at your childish stance. "You brought me here from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Air Base," you finally answered. "You said that you had business to take care of and you left. I made myself comfortable and sat by the fire until I got too tired. Then, I fell asleep in the bed, and when I woke up, you were here."

He was baffled. Her memory was completely skewed from reality. You truly believed that is how yesterday’s events occurred. He hardly noticed your hand take hold of his own. The foreign feeling of tender skin-to-skin contact caused him to jerk back a bit, but he did not break the hold.

"Loki, what’s wrong? Please, tell me."

"I'm not sure," he quickly answered, not really considering your question for he was lost in his own thoughts. After a moment of reflection, he leaned in towards you, mere inches from your face and stared deeply into your eyes.

You were confused, but stayed completely still, frozen under his intense gaze.

Loki took a moment to memorize every characteristic in your blazing orbs before quietly asking, "Do you love me?"

Bewildered, your expression instantly turned into one of adoration as you smiled. Your eyes suddenly filled with such love that it almost physically hurt him, causing him to stumble back a few steps as if he had been hit hard in the gut. Before he stepped back too far, you grabbed him by his leather collar and brought him closer as you placed your lips on his unmoving cold ones.

As if you didn't notice his lack of response, you deepened the kiss, showing him just how much you loved him through this simple gesture. Loki's defensive shields started to crumble until he completely lost himself in the thought of your mouth on his and your hands reaching up to his neck to stroke the hair that fell over his collar.

He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you nearer to him as he deeply inhaled, enthralled by your scent. It was as if he couldn't get enough of you in that moment. He wanted to continue holding you until the two of you simply became one person.

As his mouth hungrily devoured your, his head was screaming at him. He was kissing a mortal; a disgusting, pathetic, and worthless excuse for a life. A creature that had he been successful in his attempt to enslave the Earth would have been dead the moment you insulted him for the first time. He may have even killed you simply for the fact that you were the sibling of his hated rival, Iron Man.

Upon these thoughts entering his mind, his lips froze in place causing you to notice his hesitation and pull back. Loki cursed himself for the moment their lips separated he wanted to draw you back to him. He craved you, and he loathed himself for it.

"Loki?" you asked, noticing his far away gaze as he fought with himself over his feelings.

Not a moment later, you felt yourself being crushed painfully into the wall behind you, Loki gripping your arms painfully tight.

Refusing to wince in pain, you met Loki's challenging stare with a blazing one of your own. He was breathing heavily in anger, unable to tear his emerald eyes away from yours. Before he could comprehend his own actions, his mouth was on yours, hungrily devouring you.

Instead of refusing him as he had expected, you responded positively and moaned into his mouth as he plunged his tongue into your lips, tasting you, reveling in your deliciously sweet flavor.

Hungry for more, you grabbed the collar of his leather armor and shoved him back. Due to his complete loss of coherent thought during the kiss, he was caught off guard, baffled by your sudden abrasive actions.

He soon realized your intentions as he saw the lust in your eyes and smirked at your obvious arousal. You glided forward and continued to push him lightly, guiding him until he reached the edge of an empty desk at the other end of the room. In an aggressive manner, you took it upon yourself to jump onto him, gripping his hips tightly with your legs as he wrapped his arms around your lower half, cradling your bottom in his hands as he held you steady. You tangled your hands in his hair and forced his mouth to yours, almost angrily.

As your lithe body writhed against him, he felt the urge to explore more of you. He turned around and placed you on the desk, leaving his hands free to roam your body as you continued to kiss lustfully.

His thoughts began to flash like static in his mind. He was repulsed, yet aroused, and his arousal was clearly overpowering his disgust. Loki wondered to himself how long it had been since he had bedded a woman. He had never taken a mortal into his bed, but if he were to choose a mortal to lay with, he could think of no better one than you. Whether or not he desired to bed you for revenge, or for his own personal needs, he did not know, but he wasn’t about to stop to consider it either.

Without breaking the kiss, Loki lifted you effortlessly into his arms and swiftly carried you to the bed. He gently laid you down on the sheets, immediately missing the contact with your skin. Still standing, he could do nothing but stare at you, dumbfounded as to what he should do next. He silently cursed himself as you watched him with an intense gaze. He was not a shy man. With women he had laid with before, he had no problems having his way with them, but he was unable to do so with you.

He licked his lips in frustration as he fought with himself as to what his next actions should be. He did not expect you to be impatient and was taken by surprise as you raised from your relaxed position into a kneeling posture and began to remove your shirt, suggestively locking eyes with him. Loki forced himself to remain steady with every piece of clothing you removed.

When the only clothing that remained were your delicates, you raised one finger and seductively urged him forward, biting your lip in anticipation. Forgetting his incessant need for dominance, Loki stepped forward hesitantly until he was kneeling on the bed. Agonizingly slowly, you began to remove his heavy leather and metal armor from his slender, yet muscular form.

Becoming impatient, Loki began to help you with the removing of his clothes until all that was covered was his own private area. Instead of attempting to remove it, you glanced upward into Loki's intense gaze. Even while you were both kneeling he towered over you.

Lifting your hand to lightly stroke his cheek, you then placing both hands in his hair to draw him towards her so you could kiss him lovingly. Loki began to push himself into you, causing you to lie down on your back while he hovered over you, anxious for more.

With his godly strength, he ripped away your bra and panties, leaving you bare before him. He then wasted no time in removing the last of his clothing as well, revealing his obscenely large cock, prominently jutting forward for attention.

Loki returned to planting kisses on your neck, sucking gently as he made his way to your breasts. You whimpered as he took both of the peaks into his fingers and squeezed gently. He then settled his mouth on one of them, flicking his tongue all around the hardening flesh. Biting your lip, you tried to contain the screams that were building up from his actions. Unable to contain them any longer, you lost control the moment his calloused fingers slipped into you.

The pace was maddening as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rubbed in vigorous circles against your clit, all the while his other hand working your breasts. Incoherent syllables escaped you as he continued exploring your body. When his fingers were replaced by his tongue in your core, you could feel the blood circulation leaving your hands as you gripped the sheets with all your strength. Writhing against him, his tongue pumped in and out of you before moving up to lap at your clit while he pressed his fingers inside of you once again.

Before you went completely over the edge, you pushed him off aggressively. He pulled back, perplexed by your sudden change in demeanor. Your expression was animalistic as you dug your nails into his arms and pulled him around so that you could straddle him and imitated his moves from before by kissing your way down his neck, occasionally nipping softly, making him hiss in arousal. Sliding down his body, you looked from his pleading eyes to his throbbing member right in front of your face.

Taking his cock in your hand, you began by running your tongue up and down his slit as you felt him tremble against you. Settling your mouth around the tip of his girth, you sucked gently, letting your tongue flick and swirl all around it. You almost came at the sight of him after you looked up to see him close his eyes and open his mouth slightly, lips quivering and gasping slightly every time your tongue slid across his slit.

You took all of him into your mouth at that point. He threw his head back and groaned loudly with satisfaction. With each thrust you bobbed your head, occasionally grazing the underside of his cock with your teeth. His fingers tangled themselves into your hair, forcing you further onto his shaft. You hummed against him, making him cry out even louder. You sensed he was getting close so you removed yourself from him, eliciting a whine from the god.

You smiled playfully at him, which earned a forceful change of position while he grabbed you and laid you beneath him once more. He kissed you softly before pulling away and begging you with his eyes for entry. You nodded and pulled him into another kiss as he slowly entered you. Whimpering into the kiss, it was a slow adjustment as his shaft pushed all the way into you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kept him inside of you for a moment, letting your head loll back as you acclimated to his size. When you allowed your body to relax, he took it as a sign to pull back and enter again, but with a little more force. You cried out in bliss with every thrust as they became harder each time he entered you. Resting his head in the crook of your neck, he showered it with kisses as he lunged harder and faster. Your arms found themselves around his neck as you held on for dear life.

As he continued to thrust at a maddening pace into you, your back arched in pleasure as he reached down and rubbed your clit. The sensation was overwhelming in the best way. Your entire body tensed up as the orgasm pulsated through you, wave after wave of euphoric bliss.

Your nails raked down his back as he continued his assault on your leaking cunt. Moments after, the pulsing feeling around his cock was more than he could take. He released himself inside of you and cried out in bliss as his seed lined your cervix.

When he was spent, he rested on top of you only for a moment, panting heavily before kissing you tenderly, which you reciprocated with enthusiasm. When the kiss broke, you leaned into Loki, causing him to roll over and lie down facing upwards. Turning on your side, you propped your head up with one hand while caressing Loki's long hair with the other.

For the first time in a very long while, Loki was at a loss of what to do. He could not think of anything else but you, for you had enveloped his mind and captured his desires. He would curse himself tomorrow for letting himself fall into you this way, but for the moment, he savored the feeling.

As you stroked his hair he took it upon himself to explore your Midgardian body. His rough fingers traced your cheek, jaw, and neck. As he moved down over the swell of your breast and onto your hips, Loki could not help but ask, "Y/N, what caused you to become so enamored with me?"

You grinned with both contentment and amusement before replying. "What, you mean besides your charm and wit?" He smirked at your answer, but sought more from you. You sighed, wracking your brain to try and figure out how to put your feelings into words. "I see you, Loki. I see who are between all of the bullshit. You exhaust yourself trying to attain something that’s always beyond your reach. You’re not a monster. You’re just someone who needs to be loved."

Upon his stunned silence, you leaned slowly towards him to place a soft, tender kiss on his lips before you lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his abdomen, quickly drifting off to sleep.

Silvertongue was at a loss for words. Not knowing what else to do, he absentmindedly allowed his arms to wrap around your sleeping form. He had not had close contact such as this in far too long, and it satisfied him.

Dismissing the internal questions and maddening thoughts, Loki allowed himself to fall asleep, feeling more content than he had in all his existence.

#eliza's 5k challenge #loki #loki x reader #smut #writing challenge #fanfiction

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shurisneakers · 5 years

Text

espresso [8]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, angst (????), pining lol

A/N: surprise bitches i’m back but will disappear soon again for months at a time this is my entry for the exuberant @viktordrago‘s writing challenge (it took me like 20 minutes to find you kumi i2g) thank you to the best beta @samingtonwilson love u and our cinema boi the fact that i had to fuckin gif this myself shows how desperate i am

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 7 || Espresso Masterlist

Everyone has probably met that one person who is very different from the rest. Someone so profoundly boring, you had no idea you’d rather watch a tap faucet drip for eight hours straight than to ever be within a feet of them breathing.

That would be Vision.

Vision talked like he had a thesaurus up his ass, smelled like mothballs, and had ideals much too similar to a less-funny, almost less-human Dwight Schrute.

“Hey birthday boy,” you excitedly hushed into the phone at midnight.

“Hey there,” he replied softly so you could nearly feel him smile through the phone.

“How does one more lap around the sun feel?”

“More or less the same. Hold on.” He paused for a second. “Yup, I feel normal.”

“You’re a bore, Bucky Barnes. You’re supposed to be excited or something,” you could hear Nat and Clint giggling about something in the room adjacent to the kitchen where you’d snuck to call Bucky.

“It’s just another day, my dude.”

“It’s your birthday!” you protested, filling up a glass of water and bringing it to your lips.

“Meh.”

“What do you have planned?”

“First off, bold of you to assume I thought I’d live this long to actually plan something,” he snorted and you could hear papers shift under him.

“How edgy.”

“Secondly, I’m sleeping till noon and I’m seeing you today,” He cleared his throat. “You all, I mean. The group.”

“Sounds ideal.” You took a large gulp of water before leaning on the counter.

“What about you?”

“Currently; an all nighter with Nat and Clint to complete assignments.” your eyes flitted to the doorway which you realized had gone quiet. You narrowed your eyes. “Other than that, I got nothing else to do other than your birthday thing.”

“Oh yeah, funny story by the way,” he laughed nervously. “I forgot to remind you that your next date is today.”

“Bucky I still don’t get it,” you straightened up immediately. “Today’s your birthday, why would you set me up today?”

“You’re busy through next week and then you have midterms after that,” he defended himself weekly. “And besides, relax. He said it’s an afternoon thing. He’ll drop you off before it starts.”

“Who is it?” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Jarvis; also known as Vision.”

You were silent for a moment as his name registered in your mind. “Why have you forsaken me this way?”

“Just give the guy a chance,” he chuckled, before yawning. “And remember, be at my place by five.”

He checked his rearview mirror again before turning his head back to the road.

You didn’t know if he was doing this on purpose, but he was driving at the slowest imaginable speed and you thought you’d reach the café faster if you just got out and walked.

He also happened to speak as slowly as he drove. “Can’t take my eyes off the road, you know. Road safety is a number one priority.”

“The world simply would not turn without capable drivers like you,” you murmured, sinking back into the seat that smelt vaguely of hospital-grade disinfectant.

The chances of you dying in an accident with him as a driver was much smaller than you dying of old age in his car.

He didn’t speak, a look of concentration as he made a turn at the curb, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“I thought Vision and Wanda were a thing,” Nat remarked, peering over your shoulder and into your phone when Bucky texted you. Regardless of the content of said text, you smiled anyway when you saw it was from him leading her to completely invade your privacy.

It was just a stupid meme anyway- something that he thought would be an apt goodnight message.

“Wanda doesn’t even remember him.“

“Ouch,” Clint winced from beside you. “That’s gotta hurt the dude in the feelings.”

“Assuming he has more of an emotional quotient than a potted plant,” you muttered grabbing your pencil from under Clint’s hand.

The three of you had assignments due next week, which you decided to do together over many cups of coffee and energy drinks.

“I’m gonna fail this stupid fuckin’ thing. We had to do a meta-analysis of this stupid novel and all I’ve done is watch the fucking movie,” Nat groaned, burying her head in the sheets right by your leg. “I can’t believe I paid a school thousands of dollars, which I don’t have, just to write a meta-analysis, which I haven’t done.”

“Get up, c’mon. You can do this,” you said, nudging her with your foot. She swatted it away, choosing to lie there.

“Nat, I’m too broke to make it rain at the strip club you’ll work at if you drop out. Come on. Let’s get this grade.” Clint rolled his eyes, prodding at her with his pencil.

“You’re so mean, Clit. I’d never invite you to my place of strip anyway.” She raised her head to pout at him but rolled over nonetheless to sit up straight.

“Strip club. And I told you to stop calling me Clit.”

“Whatever.”

As you pulled into the coffee shop eight hours later, you reached over to open the car door only to have him damn near hiss at you.

You reeled back in surprise, watching him shake his head vehemently and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“It’s dangerous out there, especially with those zero-traction shoes. Over 17,000 people die annually because of slipping and falling. Twenty percent to thirty percent of people who slip and fall will suffer injuries like hip fractures, or head injuries.”

”Zero to a hundred real quick, my friend,” you stated, nevertheless not moving. “I know it may not seem like much to you, but I do know how to walk. Been getting enough practice all my life.”

“This is a matter of life and death, Y/N. What if you slip on the sidewalk and crack your skull open? I’d be the one who would have to account to the officers about the lack of awareness when it comes to winter treading and it wasn’t fun the last time it happened,” he said, all in one breath, his head moving side to side furiously.

You stared at him, unable to form any words. Absolutely nothing.

He got out of the car, one foot at a time before slowly standing up and assessing his surroundings. Finally, he took one step forward before pausing and doing it again until he finally reached the other side of the car to open your door.

Wonderful.

“Be careful, don’t jump out too fast,” he commented, holding his hand out to you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“It was made very clear to ensure your safety at all times. James was very, very–“ he looked like he struggled to find the words “—fastidious about it.”

“Oh?”

“Say, Y/N, why exactly is Barnes setting you up with such… specimens?”

“He asked if I needed help in finding someone ‘dateable’. I agreed.”

“Your reasoning being?”

“Why not?”

“Excellent logic.”

“I was bored, Clint. He looked like he genuinely wanted to help.”

“Why didn’t he just set you up with himself?” Clint twirled his highlighter around his fingers. “He missed a great opportunity to pull the greatest plot twist of the century.”

“I really don’t think-“

“It’s probably not the best plot twist. He’s making it pretty obvious with the whole intense staring and heart eyes and writing on your cup thing.”

“Okay, first of all, there is no heart eyes or intense staring or- wait, what writing on my cup thing?” you caught yourself mid-sentence.

“Clint!” Nat hissed, glaring at him.

Clint looked between Nat and you for a few seconds before letting out the most apathetic and monotone, “Oops.”

“You just ruined it, you shit-eating fuck hammer. Bucky’s going to kill us both and then himself when he finds out.”

The place Vis took you was actually decent. It was the nicer of the two coffee shops in town, the other one being where Bucky worked. Still, something was missing and soon you felt yourself missing the chipped tables and fake plants of the other joint. You liked it much more than the pristine white walls and cold plush chairs here.

“Can we get a table for two? Preferably away from the noise-“

You glanced around to pinpoint what noise exactly he was talking about but came up blank.

There were two people in the shop.

“-And away from the sunlight?”

It was cloudy outside.

“Also, could you reduce the heat, please? It’s rather suffocating.”

It was winter.

“Do y’all have tables in the restroom?” you asked blankly.

He blinked at you, expressionless, “The restroom is a goldmine for germs and particles of fecal matter. Surely you know that, Y/N.”

“I just- it was a-“ you sighed. “Okay.”

The waitress however was a sweetheart, and you made a mental note to leave her a good tip before you left. She led you to a quiet corner, meeting all of Vis’ demands before leaving you alone with the menu.

“I think I’ll just go with an Americano.” Lord knows you needed it after last night.

Vision let out a tsk of disinterest, eyes scanning over the card tediously.

“Coffee can damage your liver, increase your risk of osteoporosis, and increased blood pressure. Especially the concentrated form in espresso shots.”

“Oh bother, well, I’ll just have to take that chance.“

“I prefer tea; rich in oxidizing properties. It’s also a wonderful material for composting,” he continued, ignoring your statement. He snapped the card shut, smiling knowingly at you.

The both of you gave your orders before returning back to the non-existent conversation at hand. Vision chose to keep his hands on the table in front of him. It felt like he was about to give you The Talk. He looked straight into your eyes, never faltering or looking away.

“So,” you dragged out the word, pressing your lips together when he didn’t respond or shift his stare. “What’s u-“

“Do you compost?” he asked suddenly, not breaking eye contact.

“Compost?”

“Yes.”

“I would, but I can’t-post.” You grinned at him, expecting a laugh or at least a groan.

“I compost,” he said stoically.

“That’s great, Vis. What else do you-“ you tried to veer the conversation in some other direction because you had a very good idea of where this was heading.

“I have my own compost. Have you tried making one of your own?” he asked simply. “It’s very simple.”

“I gotta say, buddy, I’m not wildly passionate about it right now.”

“Do you want me to tell you how to make one?”

You blinked at him. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you.”

You screamed internally, smiling at him nonetheless.

It was 4:40. You’d be out of there soon enough.

“Why would you tell her that?!”

“What the hell are you both talking about?” you demanded, shoving your things aside and sitting up straight.

“How would I know she didn’t know?” he ignored you, instead answering to Nat, who was beginning to look somewhat like an angry parrot.

“Jesus Christ, will someone just tell me what don’t I know before I start throwing hands?”

“The shit James writes on your to-go cup every time you show up at his workplace.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you nearly shouted to match their volume.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen them! They’re so glaringly obvious, he might as well be sticking neon signs declaring his love on them.”

“I have never seen any of what you’re talking about except the ‘Mario’ he writes.”

“That’s only one side. Haven’t you seen the other?”

“No! Why would I?”

“He writes really cute messages on them,” Nat said quietly. “Some of them are normal stuff, like “I hope you have a really beautiful day” the others are like small bits of poetry that I think he writes.”

You stayed quiet, trying to absorb this information as much as possible.

“It was pretty clear that he didn’t want any of us-“ she glared at Clint who finally looked a bit guilty –“to tell you.”

“I genuinely thought you knew. He’s been doing it for months now.”

“I didn’t,” you muttered, sinking back. “That explains the weird thing he does whenever I throw away one of the cups.

“You what?!” Nat screeched, leaping to her knees. “Why would you throw them away?!”

“Hey, I didn’t know!” you defended yourself, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I literally found out about them thirty seconds ago.”

“Can you imagine how shitty he feels?”

“Now’s a good time to stop.”

“Just watching the girl you love throw away things you’ve made an effort to make?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“And that would be intimidating if you were… well, intimidating.”

“So once you finish one layer, you move onto the next and so on and so forth.” Vision stirred his cup for what seemed like the twentieth time and at that point, it was much more interesting than the shit coming out of his mouth.

He had been speaking for composting for what felt like a good hour, not allowing you to get a word in sideways about any topic that would be infinitely more interesting than this.

“Y/N, did you hear what I said?”

“What?” you jerked your head when you heard your name. “Oh, yeah.”

“Did you like a part in particular?”

Fuck.

“Loved the part about the… layers.”

“Layers are really the key to this whole thing, if you don’t have enough-“

“You know what has layers?” you said quickly, sitting up straight. “Onions. Ogres are like onions. What is your favorite movie?” if you had to hear him speak about soil and manure one more time, you were going to drown yourself in your tears right then and there.

You could feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, but you didn’t bother answering it before putting it on silent, feeling like you at least owed him basic etiquette.

“I’m not done,” he said blankly, “Now, as I was saying, layers really bring out the-“

You bring your hand down on the table a little too harshly but quickly cover it up with a smile. His voice faltered slightly before pausing when you looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t have a favorite movie. I think they’re all too dependent on suspension of disbelief. There is no true realism. None of them truly cater to what I want.”

“You’re a film major.” “So I can make films that capture the true essence of-“ he inhaled deeply before gesturing with his hands “—everything.”

The same waitress from before asked you if you wanted a refill, to which you agreed, Vision doing the same. You fiddled around with your cup in silence for a while, not knowing how to continue.

“Do you want to hear my idea for a script?”

“Sure.”

“It starts with a twenty minute shot of the ocean. Just lets you get into the tone of the movie. Then the next shot is of a horse stable. Then the next is of a wilted meadow. Then an opening door. Then an unruly bed. Then-“

“That sounds great, but what’s it about, Vis?” you emphasized, hoping to speed things up.

“I’m getting there, but please remember this desire for narrative has been fed to you. Without narrative, we truly push away from the comfort films provide and embrace a reflection of the world around us,” he insisted. “The next shot is a branch. Then a towel. Then-“

You nearly banged your head on the table.

“A church. A running tap, just to introduce motion, you know, to get things moving-“

“You need to make a move. Tell him you know about the cups.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

It was 4am and all of you had collective taken a break from whatever it is that you were doing around thirty minutes ago and were now just laying there, waiting for the caffeine rush to wear off.

“Why not?”

“Why do you care so much, Clint?” you asked, slightly irritated.

He moved his hands to rest on his abdomen. “I don’t. It’s just agonizing to watch.”

“Don’t watch then.”

“Fine I’ll date him then. I’ll get him to write me love letters too.”

“Go for it,” you snorted, shaking your head.

“Maybe I will. I’ll ask him out today, just watch me.”

“Don’t let him break your heart, babe,” Nat encouraged him.

“He’d have to reject me to do that.”

“Why on earth would he ever do that?” she poked at his cheek, watching him grumble and shove her away.

“I think he and Dot are a thing,” you said suddenly, facing the ceiling.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look too invested.”

“They hang out a lot now, did you know?” you continued, ignoring Clint.

“You should ask him. Set the record straight.”

“I think I’ll keep all my feelings to myself and then die, thanks.”

“Just tell him, man. It’ll make your life much simpler,” he rolled onto his stomach to look at you. “Sweetheart, I love you, but all this pining isn’t helping either of you. Tell him, and if he likes you back, great. If he doesn’t, well, at least you’ll know, right?”

“That’s easy to say, but try doing it yourself.”

“Oh I did. The first one rejected me straight out, and it fucking sucked balls, but I could move on. Sometimes it’s better to take that chance.”

You were silent. You couldn’t believe you were actually considering what he’d said.

“Alright fine, here’s the deal. If I can gather the guts to ask out Bucky, you’ll have to do it too.” Clint held out his hand for a handshake and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Fuck outta here. You’d do it without any regrets.”

“True, but you look like you need a push and I’m offering you one.”

“I appreciate it Clint, but it’s never going to happen. I’d rather choke.”

“I’m not gonna force you, but just think about it. It’s all about a leap of faith.”

The three of you remained in silence before Nat broke it, giggling to herself.

“Are you going to ask him out though?”

“Hell, maybe I will. Five o’clock, right?” Clint looked at his watch.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna do it, watch me.”

Five.

Fuck.

You suddenly broke out of your train of thought and scrambled for your phone, interrupting Vision’s marvelous idea for an Oscar winning script.

Your heart stopped beating altogether.

It was nearly 6:30 and there were nearly twenty unread messages and around ten missed calls illuminating your notification bar.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cursed steadily before standing up, your chair scraping against the floor behind you.

“Is something wrong?” Vision asked delicately, still clearly immersed in his thoughts.

“We need to leave now.” You pulled out enough cash to pay for your share, tugging your jacket back on hurriedly. “Now.”

“Why?”

“I’m late. I’m really, really late and we need to go now.” You had no idea that much time had gone by, scolding yourself for not keeping track of how long you were there.

“Alright, but are you-“

“Now, Vision.” You glared daggers at him until he relented, paying his amount and walking to the entrance at his own pace while you were nearly running.

From Becca:

Where are you???

From Becca:

We’re waiting for you to cut his cake

From Steve:

Hey, are you on your way?

From Becca:

McFucking Dot is here why tf is she here who invited her and why is she so touchy with bucky

From Nat:

I swear to god if you’re off making out w/ that boy instead of being here

From Wanda:

hey, we just cut the cake without you, hope you don’t mind. Where are you??

From Becca:

Someone “”””””accidentally””””” spilled their drink on dotzilla she’s all wet now

From Becca:

I can say with 80% accuracy that it wasn’t me

From Nat:

Becca just spilt her drink on Dot what the hell

From Clint:

Dot just left the room to go change because this dumbass turd just poured beer over her. now’s my chance

From Becca:

Yo where tf are you

From Nat:

We’re just sitting around, watching a movie. Are you showing up?? Why aren’t you answering our calls? Is everything okay?

From Becca:

Clint just asked out Bucky wtf sdjhgdkjfhgkdjfhg

From Clint:

I asked him out. he rejected me. I think I’m gonna keep trying

From Nat:

Clit’s bribing Bucky into saying yes

From Clint:

He said no im leaving this bullshit party

From Becca:

I just told Bucky you’ll be running late are you even showing up where are you

From Bucky:

Date going well? Hope you’re safe. Saving you a piece of cake 🍰

“Can you drive a little faster, please?” you urged him, furiously responding to everyone’s texts as quickly as you could.

“I’m already going as fast as I can,” he replied, driving at almost half the speed limit.

“Sweet Jesus,” you breathed out, running your hands through your hair. “Alright Vis, detour. Drop me off at this address.”

You didn’t wait to catch your breath as you ran up three flights of stairs to his dorm room, hands repeatedly slapping against the door.

A minute later it swung open, revealing a slightly panicked Bucky.

“What the-“

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so fucking sorry. I lost track of time and I didn’t even realize, it was entirely-“

“Woah, hey- hey it’s okay. It’s okay. ” He opened the door wider, a mix of confusion and concern on his face. “Take a second to catch your breath.”

As you did, you noticed he was wearing a black t-shirt that had no business looking that good, grey sweatpants, and his hair was pulled into a half bun, having grown longer due to months of not trimming it. He looked beautiful.

You took a moment off of staring at his stupidly attractive face, and beyond his shoulder into his dorm. You could see the empty beer cans littering his living room, the clear signs of a party.

“Everyone left?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, just a few minutes ago.”

“Shit, Bucky-“ You sighed, frustration evident in your voice, feeling your heart sink. “I never meant to miss this, I promise.”

“I know you didn’t, don’t worry. I see you almost everyday, Y/N, it’s definitely okay to miss one evening.” He laughed lightly, shifting his weight to his other shoulder.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Like I said, it’s just another day.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing too big.”

Stop staring at his fucking chest.

“I bought you something,” you blurted out, tightening your grip on your bag. “A birthday present, I mean. I bought you a gift. For your birthday.”

Stop mumbling, you big oaf.

“Y/N,” he complained, “We talked about this. You didn’t have to-“

“It’s a journal,” you interrupted him, scrambling through the contents of your backpack to find it. “Each page has a question. 365 days, 365 questions. I mean, theoretically, it doesn’t work for leap years but, you know, this coming year isn’t one and I-”

You finally grabbed hold of the brown, leather bound book, pulling it out with ease and holding it out to him. He looked back at you without a word.

“And I know how much you like writing, I just thought it’d be nice to look back on how much you change or how much your thoughts change over the year.” You pushed it forward gently, urging him to take it. He held onto it silently, running his fingers along the pages before flipping open to the first page.

You keep records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them. If you want to Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education, it’s history.

You watched him read it, his eyes widening slightly once he realized where the excerpt was from.

“That’s- that’s from-”

“The Catcher in the Rye. Yeah.” You shifted uncomfortably when he fell silent again, staring at you without a word.

Great.

“I know it’s stupid and nowhere near anything you’ve gotten me and I can get you something else-”

“I love it.” The look in his eyes made you want to melt. “So fucking much.”

“Really?” You couldn’t hide the surprise from your voice.

“It’s probably one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever given me.”

“There are some really stupid questions in there, like about memes and stuff because I thought you’d like it, but the rest are relatively normal.”

“It’s absolutely perfect.” He blew a few strands out of his face, letting his hands fall to his side. He opened his mouth to say something else but instead he shut it again.

It was probably the silence that ensues that made your fight or flight instincts take over because the next thing you realized is that you had both your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug, earning a small ‘woah’ from him.

It took him about a second but he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer, if that was even possible, dropping his forehead into crook of your shoulder. He smelt of fresh laundry and cinnamon and you couldn’t help the breath that escaped your lips. You could feel his breath tingling your neck and the warmth he exuded seeping in through your sweater. It reminded you of home.

You unwillingly pulled back, stuffing your hands back into your pockets awkwardly. “Happy birthday, James.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, biting his lip. “I, uh, saved you a piece of cake.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Finally he shook himself out of whatever he was thinking, moving and holding open the door invitingly. “Do you- uh- do you want some?”

Just tell him you like him, for the love of God.

“James I-“

“Bucky? Do you know where the tissues- oh hey Y/N!” There was no mistaking who walked out from Bucky’s bathroom. Bucky whipped his head around, confused, before who it was registered in his mind and he turned to look at you again.

“Hey Dot.”

“We missed you today,” she chirped, approaching the doorway, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah, me too.” Something was amiss about her before you finally caught on.

She was wearing his shirt.

Oh.

“Um, I better get going.” You swallowed. It felt like you were missing something crucial. Why would she be wearing his shirt at his place?

“Wait, I thought-“ he furrowed his eyebrows, straightening up.

“It’s getting pretty late, I gotta go.” You half-smiled, pointing behind you to the setting sun. “Maybe some other time.”

“At least let me drop you back. Let me just grab my keys-“ he turned around, ready to walk back into his apartment.

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, taking a step back. “I could use the fresh air.”

“It’ll be dark out soon.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, continuing to walk backward before waving at him. “I’ll catch you later, Buck. Bye Dot.”

“Y/N-“ he tried again but you just waved again before spinning on your heel and walking off, waiting till you were out of eyesight before fumbling for your phone and calling Nat to come pick you up from his dorm because sure, you may be feeling like shit, but that didn’t mean you were going to walk home in the middle of winter, alone.

Leap of faith, my ass, you thought.

Leap off a fucking cliff was more like it.

Part 9

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #college!bucky #college!au #college!bucky x reader #kumis5kchallenge

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lateviews · 5 years

Text

Lateview: Absolver

If you've heard the expression, “Biting off more than you can chew”, then you'll understand how I feel about Absolver. Fans of third-person fighter games like “Dark Souls”, “Devil May Cry” and “God of War” know that these types of games require high levels of love and polish to do well. Despite the starved market, there’s a lot of room for mediocrity. Surprisingly, Absolver doesn't pull any punches and goes toe to toe with the best... until it runs out of steam.

Absolver is a third-person fighter game trying to set itself apart from the crowd using two unique mechanics: stances and the combo builder. The “build your own combo” system has been done before, most notably in “Remember Me” and “God Hand” but the way they combine it with the stances really sets it apart. Each move has a speed and damage rating as well as some of the moves having unique properties like breaking guard and interrupting attacks. There are 4 combat stances, visually corresponding to the direction your torso is facing. Changing stances will result in you turning your torso to face to the left or the right of your opponent while others will leave you with your back facing towards the enemy! Each stance can be assigned an escalating number of light attacks and a heavier “alternate attack”. Most attacks transition you from one stance to another; then, since you’re in another stance, you can immediately use that stances attacks. If you build your combos correctly, you can create loops where one attack will lead into one stance before an attack in that stance returns you to the same stance you started in. The end-result is a custom-built train of attacks that you've personally engineered to confuse opponents as you flow from stance to stance. Since you’re changes stances so often, your alternate attack changes over time. Predicting what move your opponent is currently planning on doing is daunting since there is so much they can do. Oh, and did I tell you that you can pull out a sword or gloves and doing so swaps you over to a brand new page of attacks that you need to customise and memorize?

The game has RPG elements to it as well. Gear will drop from mobs as you down them and you'll also find stashes of gear hidden within piles of rocks. Most interestingly though is how you acquire new attacks. You start the game with a reasonable number of attacks but soon you’ll run into people using 'new' attacks against you and if you block that attack, you'll start learning the move. Use your right thumb-stick ability against it and you'll learn it even faster. Story wise, this is a cool concept. Get punched in a particular way a certain number of times and you should be able to know how your opponent punches like that. Unfortunately, in practice, this just results in you actively not killing your opponents. You end up standing around as they are wailing on you while try to block/dodge/parry all their moves; grinding out all the moves before you move along. There is a risk/reward system at play here wherein all the learning you've done during a fight won't be saved until you kill the opponent and exit combat, but there is a lot of moves to learn from random grunts in the world and these don’t really pose a threat once you’ve got a handle on the game. This system gets even worse when you're trying to discover sword specific moves because swords are rare, and by the time you find someone wielding one, they are normally a very strong opponent and you can't afford to grind out these moves because you won’t survive unless you actively damage them.

That's pretty much the entire game. Fight, learn moves, earn gear, equip said moves and gear, repeat. Thankfully that's not as bad as it sounds because hey, it's a fighting game. You came here to fight. So why am I so disappointed in it? Well before I get to the big one, let me just rattle off a few smaller impressions the game left on me: ● Falling off ledges is far too easy. Admittedly this is a designed mechanic; forcing someone up to a ledge and just pushing them off with attacks is a legitimate way to win a fight but it still felt like it was far too easy to just slip off. Even with nobody attacking you as you’re navigating the environment, one foot off the path might mean falling and most of the time falling is death, because when it's not instant, the insane fall damage will ensure you lose the fight that you just dropped into.

● The environment is not easy to find your way around. The “map” you're given is essentially 3 circles, and you don't know where you are unless you sit at a bonfire an energy shard thingy or kill a boss as these are the only 2 markers on the map. Many times, vital paths that you NEED to go down are not highlighted or made evident in any way and are sometimes, out-rightly obscured. As a result of this, I completely missed an entire area of the game for a long period of time simply because I couldn’t find the path AND I thought I had already entered that area of the map… There's a time and a place to do-away with the hand holding evident in modern game design but this is too far the other way.

● Maybe why the environment is so convoluted is to try to hammer in this sense of mystery that the game is so stubbornly trying to instil. The game makes a point of telling you NOTHING about where you are, who you are, what you're doing or why. Thankfully it does tell you what to do (fight people and open a door). It just comes across as entitled. There IS an interesting world here but by the end of the game, nothing is explained at all. Who am I? Why did I teleport when I put on this mask? Why do I need to kill these people? Did I travel through time? Who is this chick with a sword? Who were the people who were here before? The game makes a point in referring to the tesseract-looking particle effect that happens as you kill others, get killed yourself or even unsheathing your sword as “folding” which seems really cool! To sum up my feelings on the aesthetics and lore of the game, I have two words. Obnoxiously Mysterious

Finally, the big one. The game ends. It just ends. No big finish, no special reveal, no closure. Nothing. If you remember before, I mentioned the map being 3 circles? That's it. That's the whole game. I have FOUR HOURS in Absolver, and it's finished. The entire story-mode. That's a third of the I spent in DMC and less than a 10th of the time I spent in Sekiro. Now sure, those are AAA titles with massive budgets behind them, but I cannot help but feel starved of content, especially since the story does not wrap itself up. The game starts with you and a bunch of other initiates standing in an arctic wind before you are chosen, you don a mask and teleport to another world. You then traverse through 12 named areas (3 of which contain nothing) fighting 11 different bosses. There are probably below 50 enemies to fight in the entire game. And then you're done. After fighting the somehow important Risryn, you're teleported back to the place you started with, you graduate from being a “prospect” to become an “Absolver”, you get a neat cape and you get told, “Idk, wait around and grind a bit I guess?” before it teleports you back to the “hub”. To put this in perspective, if the game had 3 times as much content as it currently does, I would still probably call the game short. I have no idea why (besides development problems) the game ended when it felt like Act 2 should have begun.

The game tries to justify this by placing a big emphasis on PVP. There is a system to look up other players and have a tussle and the game is always online so you might find people in the world and decide to start smacking one another but if the game is dead (like it was when I got to it) then all the PVP is non-existent. That's not even mentioning the players who don't WANT to fight other people. As far as I can tell the “latest” addition to the game included the “downfall” mode. This mode (only available after you have graduated to be an absolver) is randomly generated rooms of goons to fight endlessly. The lore explanation for this area only adds questions to the already tall pile of unanswered ones. The game allows you to fight bosses again at a harder difficulty, but this is locked behind PVP progress…meaning that if you weren’t able to find a game like myself, then you just can’t

I hate having to be so negative. Other indie games cater themselves to a casual market and can have all the depth of a puddle and still receive high ratings but because the devs took on such a loved genre, all the depth they have added only makes people want more. I mean really, if my biggest complaint about the game is that I wanted more, there's got to be something good about it. In shooting for the stars, the devs came up short, but the time, skill and effort they put into trying to get there far exceeds a lot of other developers. I can say that the game was bug free and (until it ended) felt close to a AAA title and the sad thing is that it starts to get judged by those harsh standards. For a AAA title, this would be an insult; But for a fighting game? This is a worthwhile experiment; for an indie game? This is one heck of an accomplishment and for your time? This is worth it.

Overall, I'd look to pay $15 to $25 for Absolver, despite its $42 default price tag. It depends on how much you love the third person fighter genre; how much you enjoy PVP (and if you're lucky enough to be in a locale with players online) and how much you want to support the studio. If you can make a trio of yourselves, maybe you can get some mileage out of the co-op enabled Downfall mode, but I wouldn't want to pay much more for that.

#Absolver #lateview #lateviews #fighting games #spectaclefighter

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hookaroo · 5 years

Text

Vocivore, Ltd. (30 of 40?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE!!!!!******

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!! CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*****AMAZING AND ALSO HEARTBREAKING COVER ART!!!!! MY POOR BOY, HELPLESS AND SCREAMING WHILE HE SLOWLY LOSES HIS GRIP ON REALITY… D: COCOHOOK38 IS TRYING TO KILL US ALL!!!!*************

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

Present (Friday, continued)...

Something tugged gently on a loose thread protruding from the hem of Killian’s sackcloth tunic. Too disoriented to react, he lay still, docile and apathetic. The tugging grew more insistent, accompanied by a scrabbling flutter that showered debris against the back of his thigh. Killian snarled and shifted his bottom leg, which he immediately regretted as a million sore places awoke into blistering screams. His eyes watered as he dragged them open.

The first thing he saw was the iron fence surrounding Torture Cathedral. He was on his side, lying not three steps from the front gate, the ornate building behind him but much too close for comfort. And he could not move his head for some reason. What time was it? What day, even? What was he doing collapsed on the pathway, alone?

Alone except for the blasted tugging, which resumed after pain had thwarted his attempts to move.

It couldn’t be his Master, despite the prickle of horror that raced up his spine when an eddying breeze tickled his upper legs. That creature was much too big to be hidden from view, even with the current limitations to his visual field.

Wasn’t it?

An instant of panic gave Killian enough adrenaline to roll onto his back, and he searched wildly for any sign of armored claw or slimy, suckered tentacle. Instead, a terrified pigeon launched itself into the air, leaving several feathers behind in its haste to escape.

Killian winced as he tried to catch his breath. Bolts of stabbing fire skewered his neck, drowning out all other complaints for an untraceable amount of time. That was definitely new, but he was hesitant to reach up and explore its source for fear of worsening the pain. Instead, he tried to focus elsewhere, to distract himself from one area of agony by rediscovering others. Not an ideal solution, by any means.

Half of his body now lay on loose, jagged gravel, including his practically severed foot, and it provided a less-than-comfortable surface for a rest. Dirt and rock particles ground against haphazardly tended wounds, further soiling the bandages and likely disturbing the fragile clots that had formed overnight. Still, were it not for the danger of being discovered and set upon by a nearby Vocivore at any moment, Killian probably would have borne the discomfort and allowed himself to remain on top of the rocks until he felt strong enough to move again.

But his Master would not remain satiated for long. Reluctantly, Killian braced for more anguish before heaving himself up, forced to put weight on both arms in spite of the customary, excruciating zing from the stake through his wrist. The simple act of holding his head upright brought tears to his eyes as scalding hot lances seemed to burrow deeper into throbbing neck muscles with every beat of his heart. He breathed through his teeth. In. Out. In. Out. In… Killian dared not reach up. Even the lone wisp of air stirring the sweat-drenched clumps of hair on his forehead was too much pressure against the collar of affliction.

His damaged neck. A new soreness in his jaw. Raw, stinging cracks in the corners of his mouth. Woven together, these individual elements painted a hazy picture of his previous Session with his Master. There had been a recording device, and more tortures, and the Vocivore had been too excited and preoccupied to even undress him like it normally did, and Killian had nearly lost himself forever…

He must have passed out on the path. He’d resolved not to; he had important things to do and very little time to get them accomplished. Less, now that some undetermined number of minutes or even hours had passed while he swooned the day away. Bloody hell.

His pain didn’t matter. Weakness didn’t matter. He had to go.

The climb to an upright position was like a week-long expedition up a mountain peak and took just as much of his strength. Killian surprised himself by managing to suppress most noises loud enough to attract his Master’s attention, though by the time he swayed on unsteady feet, hunched over and clutching at the nearest fence post, tears were running freely down his cheeks and his chest was tight with imprisoned sobs.

Very slowly, Killian straightened, screwed his eyes shut for a brief moment more, and pulled a controlled, rallying breath. He took one step forward, refusing to acknowledge the splitting hurt from his impaired ankle, and skirted the rusted gate that guarded the limits of the church property.

He could follow the fence for a fair distance, using it as support and guide while he prayed for enough strength to reach his ultimate destination. He limped the first three steps. No sound or movement came from the direction of the church; Killian decided to take that as an encouraging sign. As long as his Master was busy with its project, he would have time.

Swan would need time, too. A warning.

He lifted his bandaged arm, quietly groaning as he brought the hated wrist ring up toward his face. Though no living soul was in plain sight, there was always the possibility of someone monitoring him through the collar camera, so he had to keep the message brief and cryptic, meaningful only to the one person guaranteed to be listening.

“Weigh anchor.”

*****

Killian’s first stop: the armory.

He’d been there once before, in preparation for his mission to Storybrooke just days earlier. The blessedly short distance between the church and the shop-turned-weapons-storage-facility was still a struggle in his weakened state and on an ankle that would only barely take his weight. He was puffing and dizzy by the time he reached the doorway.

One guard huddled on the stoop, resting against the wall, apparently asleep. With the total obedience of each of the Master’s minions, the position was mostly formality and likely did not see much action. The man hardly stirred at Killian’s approach, and he lapsed into soundless unconsciousness at the first blow. Killian took a moment to recover his balance, focusing on the pain and nothing else. If his Master sensed relief, triumph, or excitement, it may send others to investigate. And Killian had to get to the video room first.

A spear would be ideal. No need to get within range of the monster’s tentacles. But it would be too cumbersome to carry with him and more likely to attract attention. So Killian selected a fairly well-maintained sword and two daggers. The latter he tucked into a bandage around his thigh; the sword he secured against his body, holding it carefully under his left arm. Then he hobbled back out to the street, heading for the church’s side entrance.

*****

“Okay,” said Emma at last. “Be ready to hit play on all those videos. Just not yet. We don’t want to give the game away before Killian is in position. And… it’s probably best to do it as simultaneously as possible.”

Jones nodded, still unclear on the actual plan, but he stayed quiet and checked again that the cursor on each computer hovered over the play button. Emma had assigned him four screens; she would cover the other five. After some hesitation, Emma removed her hidden earpiece, laying that and her phone on the desk between two laptops. She fiddled with some settings on the phone, raised the volume to maximum, and over the faint rustling sounds now emanating from its speaker, she said,

“The transmitter is actually picked up by my phone. We had the feed routed to the earpiece to keep it secret and more convenient for me.” She paused, listening, and Jones could discern quiet, ragged breaths and the rhythmic thud of footsteps. “Now you can hear what’s going on, and when he gives the signal.”

Signal for what?

“And… it was Rumplestiltskin who helped set up the transmitter? The same one who saved my life, but earlier in his timeline?”

“Uh huh.” She displayed a brief flash of resentment. “He still has a ways to go before he gets to where he eventually ends up.”

Jones knew she was referring to the gleeful and excessive stabbing of her husband for the staged abduction. “As long as he still gets there, I think I can forgive a few missteps along the way.”

Emma rolled her eyes but agreed. “He must. Otherwise, how are you still here?”

The rustling noises emanating from her phone increased in intensity, and her eyes dropped automatically to the device, as if it would provide interpretation of the sounds on its dark, impassive screen. Jones could not imagine the stress of the past month, hearing such awful things with only her imagination to fill in the grisly details.

“It sounds different,” she murmured.

“How so?”

“Before, things were kind of muted, and I could hear his heartbeat. Now, sounds are sharper, and that rustling is new… I think he must have dug it out of his shoulder.”

Jones watched her face, deep in contemplation. “And that’s why you think he may not be planning on getting out?”

She swallowed hard. “If he… thinks he’s not gonna survive this… he would want us to still have whatever advantage we could get. He probably plans to leave the transmitter in the... the torture chamber.”

“Where the Master spends most of its time,” Jones concluded. He could follow the thought process, and it made sense. “That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s given up, just that he wants to be prepared for all eventualities.”

Any reply she may have had was cut off by action from the transmitter: the creak of a door, a startled exclamation, and definite sounds of a struggle.

And it was impossible to tell who was winning.

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #emma swan #wish realm killian #pain #confusion #exertion #the plan is set in motion #Vocivore ltd

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bonebreakjack · 5 years

Text

Red Boy Shadow World Chapter:Daisy

Judai hibiki is starting his first year at Duel Academy, while he knew he wasn't the most normal person in the world, this school is whole other league of weirdness! Judai with his friends are gonna have to battle against teachers, fellow students, and even people who really shouldn't be on school property but here they are nonetheless.

Wait they have to fight Shadow duelists, vengeful duel monsters, an the forces of evil on top of that?!?!?! Sheesh these kids wont be able to catch a break! This can also be red on fanfiction and AO3 under the same names!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Judai!”

A never ending void of bright soft colors surround him once more, is this what it felt like to be in a kaleidoscope? His body light, like swimming in zero gravity; a weightless feeling that made him feel as if he was nothing but dust in the air. He was literally at the mercy of the forces around him.

It was amazing!

He kicked his foot out and let out a huff of joy as he was sent spinning in place. Moving his body as if he was swimming in a pool, he careened across the space. This would be more fun if he had someone with hi- a pair of shadowed wings sailed passed him in a series of quick sharp motions. His eyes trying to keep up with the wings, they never strayed far from him but not getting close to him either, as if teasing him to try and catch them.

“Oi Judai!”

A wide smile spread across his face as he kicked off after the shadowy wings laughing as they kept putting themselves in his reach. Just close enough for him to touch, and then pulling away at the last second. A long game of tag that seemed to have no end in sight, a distorted warm laughter filling his ears making his heart feel full and feather light.

“Judai it’s time to wake up!”

And then darkness.

Judai hit the ground hard, coughing as sand and dust filled his lungs. He rubbed at his eyes to get the tiny grains of particles irritating them out. He kept quickly turning his head looking for the wings from earlier hoping for some help. But there was no light here to help him, none at all―it smelled musty and felt cold like being in a haunted house during the school festivals. The weightlessness gone making his body feels heavy instead as he walked across rough stone and sand.

Chills shook his body and fear choked his voice, unable to call out for the wings. He continued walking in hopes he either finds them or a way out of here. It felt suffocating being here, a disgusting feeling of being watched quickening his pace but the area felt endless. How long was he gonna be here in the dark? Is anyone coming to get him? No, No one is coming to get him, there is no one left to find him anymore. He’s trapped, trapped, trapped, and has been trapped for so long.

Damn those priests, damn the Pharaoh! For taking his home, for taking his body, for taking his heart! Damn the feathered wings which kept him from being whole!

LET ME OUT!!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE IN THIS DARKNESS ANYMORE.

Judai collapse as feelings of hatred, and malice filled him; making him ill from how it seemed to oozed into him slowly like slow running lava. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream!

He wanted to hurt somebody…..He wanted to be WHOLE.

A horrid scream of pain rang in his head as a blinding light burned itself into his vision.

“JUDAI WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!”

A scream trapped in his throat as he ungracefully fell out of bed. His face planting into the ground, his brain rebooting from the sensation of smooth hardwood floor. He bumped straight into his desk and his blaring alarm clock hit him on the way down from the initial hit. Well if he wasn’t already awake.

The nausea that had filled him seem to vanish, what was that strange dream? He never felt like that before. So trapped, so hurt, so angry. He curled the blanket around him tighter hoping it could ward away the chills of fear that still seem to have a hold on him. A soft touch like wings seem to shake his hair and caress his cheek and he leaned into it, thankful for the distraction. Glimpsing at concerned orange and teal as well as gold, his body finally started to relax.

Wanting a distraction he took his surprisingly still ringing alarm into his hand, confused as to WHY, it was ringing. 7:30? Why the heck would he set his alarm so early? He graduated….already…..

…….

“SHIT”

“Judai get up we’re late! We’re super late for the airport! Why did we set the clocks this late!?!? FUCK”

Judai ran out of the bedroom like dragons were nipping at his heels, his clothes and luggage in hand. Chucking the suitcase and duffel bag over the staircase to land on the couch, he sprinted to the bathroom to get ready. A blur of dark red and black passed him out of said bathroom ruffling his hair, muttering dark curses and slamming into their own room.

Frantically he pulled off his pajamas and into his clothes he was going to wear on the plane. His toothbrush nearly choking him as he forgot to take it out as he was changing. A duo of laughter reached his ears but he ignored them in favor of rinsing out his mouth.

He practically flew downstairs and caught the bread aimed at him from his frantic elder sister. Her appearance a little frazzled from the stress of having to plan how they were gonna make it to their flight with their very late wake up call. It would have been comical, if he also wasn’t in the same boat! Adjusting his backpack and checking one last time to see his decks are secured, he hopped over to her putting on his socks and trying not to choke on his breakfast.

“Mihori wha tha heck arrr wey goin cu do?!*GULP* Are we even gonna make it?” Quickly checking over to see if all their suitcases were accounted for. Judai decided to make sure everything in the house was ready for their departure. He doesn’t know how long it will be before he can come back home with his sisters schedule and work at the campus.

��*Gulp* I think so if we break like every speeding law to get there, problem is Miho isn’t here yet and is. Not. Answering. Her. Phone!!” Gritting her teeth in frustration she pulled on her long black locks of hair as if the slight pain would give her a solution. She shoved another piece of bread in her mouth huffing. Judai bit his lip as she saw her cheeks puff like a chipmunk from the way she kept stuffing her mouth. Unable to help himself he started laughing, her confused expression only making it worse. He hands her water to ensure she doesn’t choke, she drained it in relief. Midori’s lips quirked some of the frustration slipping out knowing she must be a sight.

It was so normal, he felt like they were getting better at that as of late. Since Koyo’s not- shaking his hair and biting his lip pretending he was just making fun of Midori, he didn’t want her to see his face knowing the good mood will be ruined.

Judai wished he didn’t feel the lack of presence of a third person who should be there too.

The doorbell rang through the house causing them to freeze their necks nearly snapping as their faces swivel to the door, a young woman with periwinkle hair and a small carefree smile gracing her face walked through the door humming.

“Good morning Little Judai, Mi-chan!”

“MIHO!” ripped out of Midori’s mouth as she launched herself at her friend nearly running Judai over in her haste to either hug or murder the other woman.

“Miho is happy to see you both ready! Miho has drinks and snacks for you to take on your trip!” The casual nonchalant way she was talking to them only made their previous stress returned. This was not the time to chit-chat, didn’t she know the time?!? Judai stopped himself short though as he and Midori looked outside the door that was still open to see the barely peeking light of dawn hitting the street. Miho, bless her, finally took note of their confused tired faces and took pity on them.

“OH that is right! Miho had forgotten to tell you but Miho didn’t want to deal with you you both waking up late again. That really is a terrible habit, Miho recommends breaking it. So she set your clocks back two hours so we could leave on time~” Clasping her hands together in apology she smiled brightly at them as Judai felt himself slide to the floor, at the corner of his eyes Midori ended on her knees as she stared at her friend the look on her face clearly contemplating murder as the cheery woman’s explanation finally hit them.

They stressed for nothing. They were actually on time. Will make their plane trip with snacks too boot, all it did was cost them some sleep and maybe a few years shaved off their lives.

“Pfffttt!”

Judai couldn’t help it! He ended up falling backwards he was laughing so hard; his sister following once the relief finally took hold of her. Miho started to laugh too but he got the feeling she didn’t know why they were laughing, that was fine. Miho got them up and hurried them into the car, repeating that they need to get a move on.

Pushing the last case into the car he turned back to his house, the one he’s nearly been in his whole life and couldn’t help but feel a little sad. It’s gonna be a long while before he can come home….a long while before he gets to visit his brother too. Feeling phantom hands on his shoulders and a slow growing chorus of voices encouraging him, he smiles and enters the car ready to take the next step in his life.

And then come back home to show how much he’s grown as a duelist to Koyo.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This story is something I've been thinking of for a while and is mostly fueled by me wanting more focus on the friendship and bonds all these kids share, as well as the various side and minor characters we see in cannon(I fuckin love em okay they're all good kids) as well as connect various plots together and put some head cannons in X3. I appreciate feedback on how to improve its been a while since I wrote and I'm a bit rusty! This series is also a mash up of both the manga and the anime's worlds/plots!Also nearly every character here is from either the manga or animes, I try to avoid OC's as much as I can as I am not confident enough to incorporate them as more than background characters yet.I don't own anything! I just like playing with these worlds~

#Midori hibiki #judai yuki #Judai hibiki #Koyo Hibiki #Miho #yugioh gx manga #yugioh gx #ygo gx #yugioh gx fanfiction #bonebreakjackwrite #miho nosaka #Red Boy Shadow World

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magicallibary · 6 years

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Someday...

A/N: I love how this one turned out and it’s also the longest short story so far! It has a few different elements (the files, flashbacks) so it’s probably slightly different to the other stories so far. Well, hope you like it as much as I do!

Word Count: 2902 Words Warnings: I think there’s nothing (tell me if there is, though).

Summary: They tell you to never get attached to your experiments or creations. So, what happens when Dr. Lynch does get attached to a Saturn cell system he discovered?

S.cientific and G.alactic R.esearching D.irective

Research File Code >> xxx-xxx Date of File Creation>> June 18th, 2053 Type of File >> Public (Lorene Cross: 35 years of age: Writer)

Astronomer, biologist and retired astronaut Shawn Lynch discovered a cell system located on the surface of Saturn on the 2nd of June, 2053. After researching the system further, Lynch found that the cells were arranged in a similar way to a humans making it possible for the system to be a living being. Today, June 18th, 2053, at 5:46am, the SGRD’s astronaut group (led by Lynch himself) came back with the cell system.

As of now, Dr. Lynch is beginning work on a solitary project on the cell system authorized by president of the SGRD: Saul Gonzales. The rest of the astronomer team is currently attempting to locate where this, potentially, new form of life came from.

Edit >> March 18th, 2059

Work on the Saturn cell system has been stopped for the security of the country and the consistent lack of information being given from the experiments.

S.cientific and G.alactic R.esearching D.irective

Research File Code >> xxx-xxx

Date of File Creation>> June 21st, 2061

Type of File >> Private (Shawn Lynch: 34 years of age: Astro. -- Bio.)

Today, June 21st, 2061, at 1:51am, my goal was accomplished. After eight years of work on the Saturn cell system I was able to create a life form similar to the one of a human. It looks exactly like a human girl around the age of nine, its hair is very long and brown while its eyes are a bright purple color. Its skin is extremely pale it seems to change color to be slightly tinted violet, not very visible. It still seems intimidated but I’m still trying to calm it down. I’m going to address it as Leena, to see if it calms it down.

I mustn’t tell anyone about it. At the very least, not yet. Perhaps one day, I could show it to my peers and to Director Gonzales.

S.cientific and G.alactic R.esearching D.irective

Research File Code >> xxx-xxx

Date of File Creation>> September 4th, 2064

Type of File >> Public (Shawn Lynch: 37 years of age: Astro. -- Bio.)

This is the current information I have on the S.C.S., as Director Gonzales requested.

Appearance: Age: Appears Twelve Hair: Dark Brown

Eyes: Bright Purple Height: xx

Weight: xx Skin: Pale (Or Pale with slight Violet)

Behavior: - Skin turns slightly violet when experiencing a strong emotion (fear, excitement…).

- Has the ability to manipulate the environment around her (moving objects, creating winds, changing an object’s color…) and purple smoke and particles are formed when used.

- Every so often, the skin will require moisturizing using water. The more often this is done, the smoother the skin will be. If not done, the skin will become rough.

After revealing Leena to his peers and to the director as he had planned, the SGRD and the government began debating whether Shawn would be able to keep the cell system or would it be handed over to the government or to another research directive, on the other side of the country.

“I don’t get why this has to be discussed. I’ve the this job for the past 3 years, so well in fact, that no one knew what I was doing.” Debated Lynch. He sounded so professional while given his reasons to his coworker Thristan, when he was actually drowning in desperation. “Why can’t I keep her?”

“Because you’re clearly too attached to it. See, you just called it ‘her.’ You can’t get attached to your own experiment, Dr. Lynch.” Answered Thristan trying to remain serious. Shawn’s coworker always thought Lynch was too ambitious and too secretive. He always thought that, someday, Shawn’s plan wouldn’t work and it filled Thristian with pride, knowing he was right. “You clearly see it as a daughter, but, guess what? It isn’t. It’s just a cell experiment that took you years to finally crack.”

After that statement, the colleague began walking away, leaving Shawn unable to rebuttal. Before he completely left he called out to Dr. Lynch one more time.

“In about half an hour, there’s a meeting that will finally decide your little cells’ fate, I would be there if I were you.” Thristan winked with his blue eyes before turning around and, finally, walking away.

Lynch allowed a sigh to escape his lips as he ran a hand through his light brown curls and with the other he twirled a pen around in circles.

-“Why do you always do that?” The curious voice came from the nine-year-old looking being. Leena’s eyes shimmered in wonder and the reflection of the lab’s bright lights laid on them. Shawn looked into the pair of strangely colored eyes in confusion, before a finger pointed to the pen his hand was holding. His emerald eyes looked down at the object.

“I guess it’s just a habit, I don’t really know.” He smiled sweetly as his shoulders shrugged slightly. Suddenly an idea formed in his head. “Here. You try.” Shawn held the technological pen towards the being in front of him. Leena’s pale hands slowly grabbed the object, before twirling it slowly. The green-eyed scientist ruffled the child’s long, brown hair. Pale skin turning slightly purple as a laugh filled the air and a smile graced Leena’s face.-

The scientist raised his hand to check his clock before starting the frustrated and worried walk down the hallway towards what could possibly be the end of the best thing that ever happened to him. Before Shawn knew it, he was standing in front of the black door that led into the meeting room. He filled himself with all the courage he could find within him and set his expectations as low as possible before slowly stepping into the white and gray room. Lynch swore he could feel his blood run cold and a shiver crawl up his back when he sat on the chair. He felt eyes on him even though he wasn’t at the head of the table.

“Dr. Lynch.” The president of the country spoke clearly, trying to catch Shawn’s green eyes, but he kept looking at the white table in front of him. “Glad you make it today. Should we get started?” The brown-haired 37-year-old could only nod at the question.

The meeting seemed to go on for hours and the green-eyed man wasn’t paying attention to most of it. He knew he should, since the topic affected him directly, but he couldn’t push himself to do so. He didn’t care if they took away his job. Those people were so heartless that they were willing to lock up a being, alone, and taking away their freedom. Shawn didn’t want to be part of that group of people. Human or not, Leena was a living being that deserved freedom.

“I believe this is the most reasonable solucion.” Spoke Director Gonzales.

“So be it.” The president began to explain. “The Saturn Cell System shall be the government’s property but it shall stay inside this very lab. Inside one of your shower capsules. No human contact allowed. Furthermore, no one from outside these walls is to speak of it. Dr. Lynch shall be allowed to see it when he pleases, but no more than twice a month. This process shall start immediately after the end of this meeting.” Silent nods were shared across the room. “Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone began standing up and leaving the room until Lynch stayed seated alone. Thoughts began to fill his head about what he should have done or what he could have done differently. The realization stabbed him like a knife through his chest: if he hadn’t told anyone about Leena nothing would have happened. It was his fault.

-“It’s not my fault I’m like this.” Leena defended, looking back at her wall art work.

“So, you’re saying it’s my fault?” Shawn challenged playfully, a teasing smile on his face.

“I never said that.”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” He picked her up, a groan flying from his lips as he did, and twirled her in the air and spun around in circles. A wind picked up around them, and purple mist flew with it as papers followed the breeze, but the pair continued giggling together.-

“Hello.”

A sweet voice brought Shawn back to the world. A woman. One he had never met. Her short, pixie cut hair was black, her skin entirely tanned. She wasn’t very tall but her black heels helped. She wore a loose, crimson dress and a long black jacket over it. Her eyes were quite small but they were colored a rich blue color.

“I’m Shawn Lynch, nice to meet you, and you are?” He introduced himself.

“I’m Sophie Howard, and I already know you.” Lynch looked at her, a strange expression on his face. “I mean, I work in team and member organization here, so I know almost everyone’s names. Anyway, I’m sorry about the whole, you know… The girl.”

“Really?” Sophie nodded a yes, shyly. “Well, thank you. That would make you the first.” Answered Shawn with a sad smile tugging at the end of his lips.

“I know it isn’t of much help,” she began “but, I totally think she should stay with you.”

The scientist had to repeat the woman’s words in his head. Had he heard her incorrectly? He thought there was no way someone would agree with his point of view, yet, someone had just done exactly that.

“You really think that?”

“Of course I do.” Sophie offered the confused man a warm smile.

A few hours later, a team was sent to pick up Leena and to welcome her into the shower capsule, that would now be her house. Dr. Lynch wasn’t allowed to intervene but he could watch through the cameras what was happening inside the capsule room. Said room had white tiles all around it and the walls were a shiny light gray. A strong glass box could be found leaning on the back wall, a huge shower head above it. The box had a sliding door that needed a passcode to open. A window sat on the top of one of the side walls and through it you could observe the panel room which was used to adjust the shower capsule.

Lynch’s green orbs observed the screen in front of him, his stare not moving a millimetre. A few security guards stood near him. The air felt dense and difficult to breath in and the silence suffocated the area, yet, everyone stood still. Suddenly, the heavy door was opened and a group of people came in, carrying the sleeping body of the purple-eyed individual. The team slowly walked, giving each other whispered directions as the people that sat in the panel room talked through a microphone. The girl was carefully placed on the tile floor of the capsule, before the transparent door was locked shut and the shower slowly began releasing water. Shawn shifted his focus on the ground below him.

It had been done. There was no going back.

As he slowly moved to leave the observation area, a strange noise came from the speaker in the room and he jumped in surprise. When he looked at the cameras, his emerald eyes grew in fear. The capsule room was covered in warm mist and through it, he could faintly see Leena’s figure against the wall, avoiding the water.

-Shawn looked at Leena as she slowly moved a hand to feel the water. As the hand made contact with the wet substance, it winced back quickly.

“Not a fan of hot water?” Asked a curious Shawn. The girl used her head to communicate a no. “Alright then.”

He messed around with the shower temperature until it felt colder.

“Is that cold enough for you?” The girl made the same hand movements a s before but this time her hand remained in the water. She looked at him and nodded.-

“It’s hot water, isn’t it?” Lynch exclaimed, a hint of fear in his voice. Before anyone could answer him, he was already rushing to the room next to the misty one. Screams of protest could be heard around him but he couldn’t care less about the sounds. He opened the door to the panel room quickly and sat in a spare chair, pushing anyone in his way. As he brought the temperature down, he held his breath.

As the mist faded, the sight of the being standing up, eyes closed and feeling the cold water could now be seen. Lynch released the air inside him, slowly.

“I’m guessing you’d like to see it now, Dr. Lynch?” Asked one of the members of the room. Shawn nodded.

He entered the room carefully, the door being left opened just a crack.

“It’s a shame it has to be water.” He commented. Leena opened her colorful eyes and looked at her visitor, a shy smile forming on her lips.

“And why’s that?” She asked, smile widening.

“It ruined your outfit.”

She laughed as her hands ran through the black and purple fabrics. “I guess you’re right.”

They looked at each other for a moment, silence falling between them for just a few seconds.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” Leena interrupted. “You were doing what you thought was right. Nobody can blame you for that.”

“But what I did ended with you paying the prize.”

“It’s alright.” She reassured. “We’ll keep seeing each other. Twice a month. You know I’ll wait.”

-“You sat here waiting for me?” Shawn asked, confused. He had entered his office to work on some paperwork and when he finished he found Leena sitting outside his door.

“Yes. I wanted to spend time with you.” She explained.

“You have a lot of patience waiting that long.”

“It wasn’t that long, Shawn.”

“Whatever you say, Lee. Now, let’s actually spend time together, shall we?”-

They talked for a while more but, eventually, Lynch had to leave. He waved goodbye before closing the door behind him. Surprisingly, he found Sophie leaning against the outer wall.

“I would tell her if I were you.” The woman simply stated.

“Tell her? Tell her what?”

“That you love her. That you feel like she’s family.”

He looked down slightly. “I tried explaining love to her once. She probably wouldn’t get it if I said that.”

“Perhaps not.” Sophie started. “But one day you’ll have to defend that you do and you’ll regret not saying it sooner. I certainly did.”

Every time the scientist would go visit Leena, he would think of Sophie’s words, but he’d never have the courage to say the words to the brown-haired twelve-year-old. Until one day.

It had been about 6 months since she had been placed in the capsule, when he came to see her once again. It was late afternoon, almost all the guards were taking breaks and everyone was finishing their final tasks to go home after a long day. The brown-haired male had asked for permission to go visit Leena and, luckily, he was allowed. He had gained trust throughout those 6 months, so much so that, sometimes they’d let him visit her three times a month instead of two.

Shawn and Leena had spent about an hour talking about nonsense together. A small laugh filled the strange room before Shawn asked something.

“Lee, can I tell you something?” His voice trembled a small bit. She laughed quietly.

“Of course you can, Shawn. What is it?”

“I just wanted to tell you that,” he hesitated “I really love you. You basically brightened up my life and became the daughter I always wanted to raise.” He placed a hand on top of the glass surface. “I can’t imagine my life without you and seeing you in here make me want to open this door and spin you in my arms like before. I’m so sorry this ever happened, because you don’t deserve this. You deserve to be free, to live a life you want to live, wherever you want. I’m sorry.”

His eyes closed after his rant, his unused hand rushing to his brown hair. He couldn’t believe he had finally said it.

“I-” He opened his emerald eyes when he heard her voice. “I feel the same way.”

She slowly raised her slightly violet hand reaching for the glass. Hesitantly and carefully she placed her hand on the glass, the two hands meeting between the glass. Purple mist and sparkles travelled through the transparent surface in beautiful patterns. Silence remained as they simply watched the nearly touching hands. Then, a frown colored Leena’s face.

“What is it?” Asked a concerned Shawn. The girl quickly removed her hand and turned around, the patterns vanishing from the glass.

“I promise.” She began, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “I promise that someday I’ll escape and we’ll see each other and really hold hands.”

She panicked when she only heard silence, but then she heard a weird noise. She stood still until Leena felt something on her shoulder. She turned around quickly, finding the glass door open and Shawn touching her shoulder lightly.

“And when that day comes, I promise to do everything to help you.”

They shared a smile till an alarm began ringing through the area. Lynch closed the door and offered another smile.

“Someday...”

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vegajoyce · 4 years

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Cat Peeing Down Air Vents Dumbfounding Useful Tips

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My Cat Pees 4 Times A Day

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Cat Peeing Urine

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#Cat Peeing Down Air Vents Dumbfounding Useful Tips #Cat Pee Yellow

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megacircuit9universe · 5 years

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Universal Telepathy (and why it sucks)

2019 JUL 14

Carl Jung first suggested the idea of a collective unconscious... as a scientific explanation for the weird phenomenon of ancient civilizations, too far apart in space to communicate, coming up with nearly identical myths, inventions, and architecture at around the same time.

It was never taken very seriously because nobody in Jung’s time could explain how such a thing could work, in terms of physics. How could human brains on opposite sides of the globe be able to access one another’s ideas?

It just felt like something in the realm of religion or pseudo science.

Still, as the 20th century marched forward, and turned into the 21st, the question of consciousness itself has continued to be a nagging mystery that science has yet to explain in any satisfactory way.

Still, we know consciousness is real... and that it’s a thing that developed through the process of evolution... just as did it’s components, such as, say, vision.

Living beings have evolved photon receptors because... we live in an environment bathed in photons coming from the sun. A creature with no eyes would not know this, but one with even primitive cells that could detect photons and relay that information to a central brain would know photons exist, and could use that knowledge to their advantage.

The same is true for ears... because we live in an atmosphere full of acoustical sound waves.

Chemical detectors, of course are all over the place in nature. Plants, insects, and mammals alike depend very heavily on their specialized chemical detectors... as well as chemical signal generators.

But some animals have senses we can’t imagine, such as many species of birds, who can “see” the Earth’s magnetic field, and use it for flight navigation across enormous distances. Also various fish, such as sharks, who can “see” electrical and magnetic fields in their environment.

But all of these senses are fine tuned to detect extremely weak signals, and creatures can do this because biology itself is made of such extremely tiny building blocks, and runs on such extremely low voltage.

In fact, scientists now believe that in many cases, biological sense organs are taking advantage of truly quantum phenomena... and why not?

This brings us to the brain... which even in insects like bees, have astounding levels of processing power. Flight navigation, after all, is no simple trick, but remembering how you found your way to a specific flower patch, and then being able to communicate those directions to your bee colleagues using an abstracted dance... is really impressive!

So, how much more impressive is the human brain, which is the latest and most advanced brain ever developed by natural selection?

My hypothesis is that the human brain (and probably many other less sophisticated brains) is able to interact on the quantum level with some type of field surrounding the Earth... using it for storage and retrieval of information.

In this model, your memories are not stored in your brain, and your thoughts do not originate in your brain either. Both exist out in this field, and are simply accessed by your brain the way a transistor radio would access a radio station, or a smart phone would access encoded data in the cloud.

But for most of the 20th century, it was thought no such field could exist... until we discovered dark matter.

Though we don’t yet know exactly what dark matter is... we do know that there’s far more of it permeating the galaxy than normal baryonic matter... because we can see it’s weak gravitational interaction with normal matter on the large scale.

Dark matter does permeate the room you’re in right now... along with every square inch of the Earth, solar system, and beyond.

My hypothesis is that our brains have evolved to interact with dark matter in some very subtle, yet critical way that allows us to experience not only individual consciousness... but to also share a collective, global unconscious.

One intriguing clue to support this may be the enigmatic double slit experiment.

In this famous experiment, you have a photon gun, a back wall to receive the photons, and a barrier or screen in the middle with two small slits. If you shoot a multitude of photons at the barrier, some will pass through the slits and hit the back wall.. creating a wave interference pattern over time.

However, if you make any attempt to determine which of the two slits each photon passes through... say by setting up detectors at the two slits that will report the results to you... suddenly the back wall no longer displays a wave interference pattern, but instead, two concentrated blobs corresponding to the two slits.

The obvious conclusion... which quantum physicists hate, but cannot rule out, is that human consciousness itself, affects the behavior of the photons.

Clearly that’s not possible if consciousness is a thing happening inside of tightly sealed human skulls. Knowing... or even asking which slit a photon goes through should not change the results of the experiment... especially not so drastically.

But it is possible... and even logical, if consciousness arises from the brain interacting with a field through which the photons are passing... namely the dark matter field.

It’s tempting to think that this interaction must be electromagnetic... given that brains are electrical, and photons are quanta of electromagnetism. But we have no evidence for dark matter interacting electromagnetically... only gravitationally.

Our understanding of quantum gravity is... nearly nonexistent, so it’s difficult to say how a brain might be able to utilize quantum gravity... if at all.

Whatever the case, if the brain is using the dark matter field to store information... that same mechanism will tend to collapse the wave functions of photons (and other quantum particles) being asked for information.

Physicists in fact will tell you that information itself is a kind of property in the universe that cannot be destroyed, but only shifted around. So... for our brains to store any... we have to take it, and put it somewhere we can find it later.

If this cloud theory of consciousness is true, however, then it works best on the level of the individual brain.

For example, I can remember experiences I had thirty years ago fairly vividly, and fairly accurately, depending on how memorable they were to begin with.

But you can spend all day with your head touching mine, trying very hard to tune in to my memories and... not get anything.

However... if you and I were very similar in some key way, you might be able to gain access to my records.

I know this will sound like a reach, but, sex kinks tend to bear this out a bit.

We all know about the internet’s famous Rule 34, which says, if it exists, there is porn of it.

That rule was always true, from the beginning of human history, but we did not know it was true until the advent of the internet, when people began sharing their extremely specific and bizarre fetish art and writing online... only to overnight connect with large numbers of other people who had the same kink... down to the same images, same scenarios, and same buzzwords.

In a very real way, people who share the same obscure niche sex kink, do share the same unconscious and conscious fantasies, in very striking detail, even if they are never in communication with one another.

That could just be the result of everybody in the group having the same wiring anomaly in their brains, causing the same symptoms.

Or... it could mean that people who are wired similarly enough on the channels that have the real signal strength... the sex drive, or the obsession for art, music, architecture, etc... are able to tune-in to one another’s thoughts and impressions.

The general rule of brain storage is that the strongest memories are the most emotional, either positive or negative... or the most significant, in terms of useful information.

Expanding outside the individual, like minds have like thoughts. It’s true for people with the same kink... but it’s also generally true in the sense that... all squirrels will think like squirrels and not like birds. All birds will think like birds and not like bees. Etc.

But on the grandest scale... all conscious creatures will think and behave in some very basic ways that all other conscious creatures will understand.

I once had an underground beehive in my back yard. The bees had set up their hive in a hole in the ground. This was not a problem until I had to mow the lawn. After I did this once, the bees were not happy. A week later, when I got the mower back out... the bees attacked my dog, who was hanging around with me in the yard.

I had not yet turned on the mower.

The bees did not do too much damage to my dog (thanks to his thick fur) but they gave him a good scare, such that he ran off into the house.

As for me... I got the message very clearly, as if they’d spoken it to me in English, “Do you see what is happening to your friend there? That is you... if you mow over our hive again. Got it!”

I gave their hive a wide berth that day and they didn’t attack me. We had an understanding after that.

That’s an example of how all conscious creatures do understand all other conscious creatures. But it’s also an example of how information is normally exchanged between conscious creatures who are not exactly the same.

99.9% of the time, external, real time communication is needed to exchange information from one conscious creature to another. In the case of the bees, this was contextual communication.

The context is... I have lawn mower. Dog is my friend. Dog gets the business. Dog is me, if I use lawn mower on them.

But among themselves, even bees need to use symbolic communication. The waggle dance they use is partly contextual, because it references the current location of the sun, but it is also largely symbolic, with waggles standing in for units of distance.

And even though human brains are far more sophisticated than those of bees, we still do not have telepathy. We rely very heavily on symbolic communication to share information from one brain to another... and even with our very advanced forms of communication... misunderstanding is rampant.

So... even if there is such a thing as a collective unconscious... there is a reason it is unconscious. It’s because the dark matter field our brains use to store and retrieve information for individual brains is so extremely weak and delicate, that it can’t sustain a universal telepathy.

by, “universal,” I mean... a robust telepathy capable of transferring detailed information between all kinds of different brains, no matter how different they are.

The laws of physics do not and cannot support universal telepathy.

But... they do seem to be able to handle a very low level telepathy that can transfer information directly from one brain to another... if the two brains are sufficiently similar... and if the signal is sufficiently strong.

This means it should be possible to simply meditate and, by tuning in with the universe, elevate the collective consciousness of all human kind.

Is that a more effective approach than going online and blasting everybody with extremely emotional symbolic communication when they’re awake?

Erm... on the short term no.

However, over the long game... the very long game... collective unconscious may prove to have the edge.

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estellacalvert · 5 years

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The Potential of Film as a Medium FMP - blogpost

Film as an extension of photography

To begin with, I regarded film as an extension of photography. When watching commercial movies, what excited me most were the held frames. One that notably sticks in my memory is (I believe) from Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone, 1969,) although I must admit to only watching it in part while my dad had it on the TV, and if you asked me what it was about I would scarcely be able to tell you more than its genre. I am not even sure if my memory of the scene is correct, but the frame I recall was of a white building, with the camera set far away so that you could see clearly the blue sky and the horizon line that fell behind the building. The foreground was that dusty stone that seems almost terracotta in stark contrast to the blue, and the landform formed a frame around this building. This shot was held with no movement of the camera, and small black, ant-like figures walked around the area of the building. I just remember thinking ‘this would be a beautiful photograph, but it's more than a photograph – it's alive.' I think this more than anything is what drew me to the medium of film. More and more I found myself feeling that moments were inadequately captured in a photograph. Film made it easier for me to get at what I was trying to say – whether that was ‘look, how this line follows, how it looks like a drawing' or … Film, especially when observing things, gives me the power to record what I regard as a visual sentence. In my "sketches" each shot is one sentence: a change of frame in a continuous shot may relate to some kind of punctuation.

Post-production

Not only does film allow me to document my train of thought when looking at something, but through editing I can make connections between different clips that could have been considered as having no relevance to each other. The seams (when one shot changes to another) of a film are critical to the fluidity and continuity of the film as a whole, as it is not natural to have such immediate jump to another space, time, point of view etc. This is not how we experience our own reality, and so when viewing a film if there is no necessity or logic in the transition from one shot to another it can feel disjointed and jarring, and viewer engagement is easily lost. In editing footage, it's interesting to discover what shots complement each other hinged together. It allows for me to have control over what the viewer is likely to be thinking; I can guide their train of thought as if I were delivering to them a dictation – just as they would follow my words, they follow my image.

When watching films, I always take note of the seams. One of my favourite cinematic techniques I see used is when a frame is held for just a split second too long. For example, in John Crawly's Brooklyn, there is a scene where Saoirse Ronan is sat on a bench if I recall correctly, waiting for a ferry, and that basically sums up the entire shot. The difference being, and I remember this scene because it was the first sign this was drawn to my attention, is that the frame was held for longer than I expected. I realised I was almost counting down in my head when the shot was due to change. I think that it is true when it comes to cinema that we sense a general pattern din seams: we are used to seeing a character looking after another who has just walked out of frame for about 3 seconds; maybe a shot of a character deep in thought for about 5 seconds before the shot changes to show a close up of their face, so we may better understand just how deep in thought they actually are. I have been accustomed to expect these changes, and why I remember Brooklyn is because the change did not happen when I expected it to. The effect of this "second too long" was an almost tangible tension and sudden anxiety as a viewer – I felt as if I had been looking at the wrong thing, perhaps that's why my expectation was unfulfilled. I was left not just looking at the leading lady waiting for the scene to change but spurred into searching throughout the entire frame to try and assess what I might have missed. This meant when the scene did cut, soon after this (what I can only describe as a) little anxiety shock, the film had won my full attention. Amazed at the effect this technique had had on me, I always keep it in mind when constructing my own films. The balance is in knowing when a single shot has been held for too long to the point where it has lost its tension and the ability to cause that moment of slight stress at potentially mislead expectation.

Alain Fleischer makes the statement that "something is lost for the film to continue" when it moves from one shot to another (Film Cuts, 1995.) I think his implication that there is greater value in the subject matter of the film than in the actual film itself is not necessarily true. He assumes that "something is lost" when the shot changes, and in one sense I can understand since when editing my own footage there is often a sense of reluctance in having discard footage for the sake of the film as a whole. However, I hope I have argued that there is something to be gained in these abstract interruptions through the medium of film.

Relationship to light and space

One property of film that broadens its potential as a medium is its intrinsic relationship to light and space. The very first moving images were created using firelight and material form to create shadows on stone walls, making the immediate world an image. With advances in technology, there are different ways in which light can be used to permit the experience of film. We are very familiar with screens; film seems to exist within them, and if we wanted to we can go right up to the film and touch it, and it will stay under our fingertips. In this way it is very controlled, contained. Even the shape of our screens resembles a frame, and I feel like choosing to display a film work on a screen on the wall invites the viewer to consider the work in a very similar way to displaying any other rectangular composition on the wall whether it be a painting, print or photograph.

I think the medium of film has greater potential through the means of projection. Light is both a wave and a particle; When an object is projected, be it moving image or photograph, it inherits both the material and incorporeal properties of light. You can feel the energy of the projected image (moving or still) and know that it is not contained to the boundaries of a screen but takes on the space around it. If you were to go up to try and touched a projected film, you would find yourself left with your shadow: you cannot touch the object under your fingers; its existence is not defined to a given space, and if you raise your hand in front of the light, you in effect alter that objects existence for as long as you choose to keep it there. Tacita Dean in her exhibition Portrait at the National Portraits Gallery in 2018 used semi-opaque lightweight board as the surface upon which to project her works. You could walk round the suspended film and view it from both sides, and the space in the darkened room surrounding fell away. The floating films seemed to transcend, the energy of the projected light being so focused and concentrated onto their designated space.

(I recently took a different approach to projection. In a group crit I chose to project a film across a large spread of wall, which meant that the film functioned more in creating an atmosphere and altering the viewing experience of other pieces of work rather than being considered in a one to one dialogue with the viewer.)

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While I am aware that this may sound very lofty, I genuinely believe it to be true. There is so much more energy contained within a film when it is projected; when it doesn't depend on a wall, a canvas, or any other set surface. It could exist anywhere.

This also is what helped film so accessible to the public in history, as it was able to be delivered to audiences anywhere so long as there was a means of projection and a wall. Working with projection, therefore, offers a great deal of flexibility: a film can be distorted by exploiting the surface it's projected onto, made to take up a greater or lesser amount of space. In the future, I think the idea of projecting onto public buildings could be really interesting – since the image created has no permanence, the duration I would be allowed to continue what I would be doing before being asked to stop, especially with films that are about exploring different media.

The moving image and the temporality of film

Film is a fascinating medium to be working with now as our relationship with time is changing. Everything is becoming faster, and with that comes the expectation that we become faster as well. Film can be difficult to engage with sometimes purely because it demands time from the viewer. While it is true that any artwork which aims to be considered demands time, the way in which film demands time is different because time exists within the film. A film's request of a viewer's time seems a lot more formal than the request of a painting, because the film's time request is specific, whereas the request of the painting is indefinite and ambiguous. When using film as a medium, there is an extent to which the filmmaker has complete control over the length of the conversation between itself and the viewer (to hark back to my previous analogy of a film as a sentence.) But this can make the relationship between the object of film and the viewer dictatorial. The exchange completely breaks down if the viewer decides to cut the exchange short by removing themselves, and the choice to do this feels a lot more detrimental than when the same choice is made in front of a painting. There is no concept of "start" or "finish" with other mediums. Consequently, someone can disengage at any time without causing any real offense. However, film cannot shake itself of this concept of "start" and "finish." Even if a film is played on a loop, the fact it cannot be its whole self all at once still demands this linear definition; the object of film exists in time, not materiality.

The fact that a film cannot be its entire self all at once is an intrinsic characteristic of moving image. After all, all film is numerous still images shown in quick succession so as to feign movement. No one image is any less a part of the film, but none of them alone can make it up. It is not even enough for them to exist together, they must exist in running succession, otherwise, the object in question is not a moving image. This calls into question when the moving image actually is, what is it and how can it simultaneously be one thing and a plurality of things? The question of the movement of film challenges its wholeness and integrity, and I think this element of film has incredible philosophical potential worth exploring.

People on film

People or persons as the subject of film draws the medium out of philosophical abstraction. It grounds it in something we consider real, and that we can immediately relate to our everyday experience of the world. The fact that film is able to use real images (‘real' here used in a sentimental, not scientific sense) that directly relate to our experienced reality gives the medium unparalleled potential to construct characters. The consideration of characters pulls film into a different playing field – it is at this point that I feel the distinction between the terms "film" and "movie" becomes blurred. When I think of the potential of film with regards to character, a number of what I would consider "movies" come to mind; I think that part of the difference is made by the fact that the object of film is being used to ends entirely separate from the medium itself: in movies, film is the medium of storytelling, but storytelling is not a prerequisite of film as a medium.

One of the movies that come to mind is Peter Farrelly's Green Book. The subject of the movie is, in fact, the relationship between two unlikely companions, and each scene is geared towards the telling of their shared story. Other subjects of the film tackled issues of race and prejudice, but in reality, these were by-products of the primary subject, questions that were raised due to the nature of their relationship. It is undeniable that a focus on character has the ability to have a significant impact on a viewer, and in the case of Green Book I left the cinema with a feeling of something between happiness and joy – I had fallen in love with Tony and witnessing the loving relationship between him and Dr Shirley left me unable to stop smiling for the next 45 minutes.

Another movie which had a similar effect was Naomi Kawase's An. The plot of this film is incredibly simple, and if asked what it is about the tempting answer to give is "bean paste." While this is not entirely wrong, it is misleading. The movie forms the character of Tokue, an eccentric old lady with leprosy, with incredible sensitivity and managed to move me to tears within the first 10 minutes. Although this is perhaps more telling of me as a viewer than the movie, I think it is true to say that when the subject of film is human, emotions come into play – although this is more the potential of persons as subject as opposed to the potential of film as a medium. I think this is an important distinction relevant to my art practice: I am concerned primarily with the properties of the object of the medium in question, not the subject.

To come back to the focus of this inquiry, I think Han Bo's An Elephant Sitting Still is a good example of a work that almost calls for the title "movie," but not quite. It is interesting that in all the descriptions of this work I have read, it is referred to as a "feature-length film." Bo uses character as a tool to talk about the harsh society of impoverished urban China. His effective use of character accompanied by his skilled use of his chosen medium meant that he was able to hold my attention to his dictation for just under 4 hours. The way he builds character is not through dialogue, a critical tool for character building used in the previous two movies I have mentioned, but through image (his choice of shot, from the length of time it is held to how close to the character the viewer is allowed) and action (how the characters act and interact with their environment in the film – the choices they choose to make.)

Film and abstraction

While reading The Cinema Effect by Sean Cubitt, I found it fascinating that after reading for a good hour, only once had the camera been referenced in a mention of the shutter. That was it. This was strange to me since in doing film, the camera is indispensable. As an extension of the filmmaker, it is the means of creating film. Film cannot happen without the camera (or perhaps it can…this may be something I return to for later inquiry.) This being said, it is true that when experiencing cinema, one is not thinking about the camera; it departs from its means of creation. This distancing effect, the ability film has to transcend the material yet retain the façade of being of our world and retaining features that we recognise as belonging to our own reality, gives film the potential to abstract subject matter, while making it feel less abstract. I will attempt to illustrate this point further: in personalising an individual through film, giving insight into their private world, their private thoughts, makes the viewer feel closer to them, and feel as if they are less abstract due to their enhanced understanding of the individual. However, to personalise the individual is to abstract them from the social world. Even the individuals closest to us, our friends and family members, are not to us personalised in this way. Other people are object – we can refer to them by name, we can describe them with language. The personalisation of individuals and even places through film lifts them out of the object realm of language and into the subject realm of experience, the experience of the individual becomes the defining element, and so the individual has been abstracted.

The film Lost Highway (David Lynch) has no moral, its plot is incoherent, you do not warm to any of the characters, it does not have any profound emotional or intellectual impact. I found that you can take nothing of value away from this film – all of its value is completely contained within the experience of watching it. This is why I think it is a good example of film's potential to be abstract, in the same way, a painting might be, but obviously with their necessary distinctions.

The expectant relationship we have to film

Our present relationship to film originates in the shortening of the working week in the late 1800s across Europe and North America, which gave people a lot more surplus time, and led to the commodifying of film. This is what has framed our standards and expectations of being entertained by film – this was displayed very clearly when the feedback cards from the 2018 Turner Prize exhibition, which consisted of 4 films, contained comments like "would have been better with comfy chairs and popcorn." I don't think I have ever gone to a gallery with the intention of viewing art expecting there to be snacks to enhance my experience, nor have I left thinking "that would have been better with biscuits." Film's intrinsic relationship to cinema cannot be ignored when presenting work to a public audience.

The question stands as to whether this association of film and cinema is a limitation of film as an artistic medium, or offers the artistic medium potential. Undoubtedly, film's connection to cinema can bring the subjects of art to more people. Film is accessible and does not have the same class boundaries historically that art does, hence its potential capacity to bridge the high-low art gap. Film has the potential to reference itself without undermining it: you can make a film about film without undermining film. "Art" does not have this capacity: you cannot make art about art without undermining art.

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bazzaya · 7 years

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a demon’s plight - part four

A multichapter series regarding Minerva’s healing/redemption Post-Tartaros.

A/N: Did someone say character development?

Word Count: ~3.4k

[Ao3 Link/FFNet Link]

Part Three

Enjoy!

They returned to Porlyusica shortly enough, and she turned around to greet Minerva and Erza both when she heard them walk in.

"You've returned earlier than I expected." Porlyusica said, "Both of you."

"Chance encounter in the woods, would you have it." Minerva said in a droll, shrugging.

Erza smiled faintly at that, "How were things while I was gone?"

Minerva instantly drew in a sharp breath at that, tensing up as she looked at Porlyusica. Her gaze softened however, knowing that Porlyusica had a right to tell Erza of the incident.

"Fine." Porlyusica said without skipping a beat, though her gaze drifted to Minerva. Minerva mouthed a 'thank you,' and Porlyusica just nodded in return, "Though… There is something I have discovered. It may be speculation, but it makes sense."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, "Is that so…?"

Porlyusica's expression turned serious, "Surely you've noticed how sensitive the markings are, able to appear and disappear within a second's notice. Well… I think I found the reason for it."

"You have?" Erza asked, glancing at Minerva, "Please, tell us!"

"We've already established how the Demon Particles are focused more in your head than anywhere else in your body…" Porlyusica began, "And I've already discussed with Erza how they seem to influence your emotions, but… What if your emotions also influence them?"

Minerva placed her hand on her hip, "So, what I feel affects how the markings appear?"

Porlyusica nodded, "The Demon Particles feed off of any negative emotion you have… and if they multiply, they cause the markings to reform. However… if your mind is void of these negative emotions, the Demon Particles cannot be sustained, so the markings vanish."

"I guess I'm never allowed to be angry again, huh?" Minerva said dryly.

Erza nudged Minerva with her elbow to get her to stop, "Minerva! That's enough!"

"What? It was just a joke!" Minerva pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at Erza.

Porlyusica didn't pay that any heed, "I'm sure you can be angry still. All you have to do is learn how to keep the Demon Particles and their spread under control. If you can do that… then the markings shouldn't be an issue."

Minerva let out a sigh, averting her gaze to the ground, "That sounds as if you're certain the Demon Particles cannot be removed from my body in full…" She said, and for once, she allowed her voice to carry the disappointment and sadness she felt instead of her internalizing it.

Porlyusica did frown at that, "I'm sorry. The properties of these particles… It makes it very difficult to remove them entirely. They feed off of your emotions, and I do not think you can ever fully be rid of them."

Nodding, Minerva clenched her jaw and balled her fists, "Then I suppose I should focus on controlling the markings instead." She lifted one arm, noting how the scales on her skin were slowly taking on a darker shade and moving further up her forearm, "And this… isn't a good start."

"It's tough news to take." Erza interjected, "It's only natural your frustration and disappointment would make for the perfect environment for the Demon Particles to grow in, if what Porlyusica says is true." Lifting her gaze, Erza met Minerva's eye with a sympathetic look, "Rest. We can try and practice once you let the news sit in for a little while."

Minerva didn't give a verbal response to that. Instead she spun on her heel and turned away, walking off and out of the room. Porlyusica glanced over at Erza after Minerva left, though she said nothing.

Erza's lips were pressed into a thin line and she had drawn in a sharp inhale, "Are you at least going to try with the treatment still?"

"It does seem to help, even somewhat." Porlyusica nodded, "So yes, I will. But I have a new concern with our resident tigress."

Raising an eyebrow, Erza only tilted her head in response, "Which is…?"

"Learning to control something so wildly unpredictable and fickle will only bring about frustration, and when her brain is as compromised as it is under that demonic influence… It may bring about some fairly extreme responses from her." Porlyusica explained, and she turned to get something from one of her drawers, "In the case that Miss Orland experiences one of those extreme reactions… I have something to keep her from hurting anyone with that magic of hers."

Erza joined Porlyusica and looked over to see what that particular object she was talking of was, and she glanced at Porlyusica upon seeing they were two bracelet-like artifacts, "Are these what I think they are?"

Porlyusica nodded, "Magic blockers. Hopefully it won't come to having to use these, but the option is still there if it's needed."

Erza let out a sigh and nodded her head. The idea of using them on Minerva left a foul taste in her mouth, but at the same time, Erza knew that their safety was important as well, "Let's… Let's hope it doesn't come to this."

Elsewhere, next to the threshold of the next room where Minerva exitted to, she stood out of view but still in earshot to what Erza and Porlyusica were discussing. With an angered expression, Minerva glanced down at her hands, where her Territory Magic glowed around her fingertips.

"They will pry my magic from my cold, dead hands…" Minerva growled under her breath, clenching her fists before walking off.

Minerva looked her arm over; the markings were about right down the middle from being at their strongest and from being completely cleared. It had been a few minutes, and despite her attempts, no progress had been made on making the markings vanish. Even so, Minerva at least enjoyed the change of scenery outside, so she wasn't growing frustrated yet.

Erza spotted Minerva resting outside, and she made her way over to Minerva's side quietly, not wanting to disrupt her focus if Minerva was in the middle of trying to control the markings on her skin. She sat down on the large tree stump Minerva was and waited, keeping to herself in the meantime.

Turning her head towards Erza, Minerva studied her for a few seconds with her hand in her chin, "Can I ask you a question?" She said suddenly, still in the midst of scrutinizing Erza.

Admittedly, Erza found herself fidgeting under Minerva's gaze. Minerva was holding nothing back in appraising her, and Erza wasn't sure what to think since it looked as if Minerva was searching for something specific. "What is it?"

"Why are you here?"

Erza blinked a few times and shook her head. That question came out of nowhere… "Er… Excuse me?"

Minerva looked confused for a moment, "Was I not clear? Strange… I'm sorry, allow me to rephrase. Why are you staying here with me? I cannot for the life of me understand why you're sacrificing your time to be here when it doesn't directly involve you, unless…"

"Unless what?" Erza asked, swallowing hard.

"Unless you're here as a distraction." Minerva steeled herself, narrowing her eyes and growing defensive, "Unless you're using my predicament as an excuse to not focus on the issues brought onto you by Fairy Tail's disbandment. Frankly, Titania, if this is true… I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I won't be your little distraction. I'm starting to believe I deserve better than that."

Erza shook her head yet again, striving to understand, "Hold on, Minerva… I can promise you that I'm not here to distract myself from the issue with Fairy Tail. Of course, that is a problem I still have to come to terms with, but… I'm dealing on my own while I'm here too. You're not a distraction to me, Minerva. You never have been."

Minerva raised her eyebrows out of interest, growing at ease with that answer, "Then I still don't understand you. If you're not here to use me as a distraction, then why are you here?"

Letting out a sigh, Erza paused for a moment to sort things out in her head. She wanted to word things carefully, and she also wanted to make her message clear for Minerva to understand. Minerva was still learning, and Erza had to keep that in mind. "Well… Because I want to be here. You needed help, and I want to make sure that you get it."

"So you have a hero complex then?" Minerva asked, confusion in her voice.

"...No. Genuinely, I want you to become better. You may not have wanted it, but I at least wanted to be… a friend to you in your situation, in case it would make it easier for you to handle." Erza explained, flashing a smile.

"Then I truly don't understand you." Minerva shook her head with a sigh. Eventually however, she did force a smile, "But… I suppose I should be thanking you, for your generosity. Your help is appreciated, that I assure you, even if I fail to understand why I'm receiving it."

Erza's smile widened at that, "You're welcome, but it was my pleasure. Maybe I can try and explain it to you more if you wish."

Shrugging, Minerva straightened her posture and lifted her chin out of her hand, leaning back, "By all means, do try. I… I really want to try and learn what drives you, Erza. You're an enigma to me, but I know you also follow a desire to do what's right. I should try and be more like that…be more like you."

"It's a learning curve." Erza said, inching closer to Minerva so that they were sitting side-by-side, "But I can do my best in helping you understand."

"Please do." Minerva smiled, turning to better face Erza.

"Well… Sympathy is normally a strong force in driving people to do good. When I heard about your situation, I couldn't help but try and do my best to help you. You didn't deserve what happened to you, and I only want to see you heal from it." Erza explained simply.

Minerva nodded along to that, though she found something she didn't understand, as expected. Furrowing her eyebrows, Minerva tilted her head and thought things over, "Hold on… I don't recall telling you much about my situation… What's there to be sympathetic over?"

Erza drew in a short breath, "You were shouting something about becoming strong… And then you were reciting Sabertooth's old mantra to yourself… You weren't fighting for yourself, were you? You were fighting because someone… or at least their influence, was making you."

Clenching her jaw, Minerva forced herself to look away. She did her best to remain calm however; she wasn't going to lose her temper at the mere mention of someone.

"Jiemma… He's done so many wrongs to you. He tried to make you into something despicable… I'm only sorry I couldn't stop him from doing something unimaginable to you…" Erza said with a sigh, eyes falling closed.

"Wait…" Minerva glanced back to Erza, "You don't know Jiemma. You've never known Jiemma. What on earth could you have possibly been able to stop him from doing to me? Everything he's done happened before you were even in the picture!"

Erza froze. Minerva had been overanalyzing her every word in an attempt to understand her, so of course something like that wasn't going to go over her head. Erza didn't want to be the one to tell her what happened, but it seemed as if she had no choice. She didn't want to lie to Minerva, either. "You see… Your father… He was the one responsible for your capturing, and for what came after."

Minerva's eyes widened and her teeth bared, a mix of anger and surprise found on her features, "Jiemma… did this to me?" She asked, shaking from her attempt at restraining herself, "He's the one who ruined me and turned me into a disgrace?!"

"Minerva!" Erza shouted, lifting her arms in defense to prepare herself against Minerva, "There's still hope for you! We can reverse what he's done!"

"Hope?! You're trying to say there's hope for me?!" Minerva shot up to her feet, tensing the muscles in the arm that was now fully overcome with scales, "You heard it yourself, Titania! This is permanent! I'll never be rid of this darkness inside of me, and forever I will be scarred with these markings! These… These horrid marks of a monster!"

The second Minerva's eye became sealed off by the marks on her skin, Erza jumped up to be level with the fully transformed Minerva. "And you heard it too, Minerva! You can control them if you try to!"

A wry laugh left Minerva's lips, "As if someone as wretched as I am could ever keep my mind void of anger and sin long enough to kill off the disease inside of me! A disease I didn't even ask for! Jiemma did this to me! He ruined me beyond repair!"

"You can fix it, Minerva!" Erza shouted back, "You can be better than him!"

"What better am I than him if I cannot even control my own body?!" Minerva growled, glancing down at her discolored skin, "This is a permanent reminder of my own weakness and mistakes!"

Erza opened her mouth to protest, but she was cut off by a pulsating pressure. Her eyes widened because of the pressure, something which resonated like a heartbeat but much more oppressive. Focus returning to Minerva, Erza was able to pinpoint the pressure as the raw magic power emanating off of Minerva in rhythmic pulses. Soon those pulsations escalated into a purple aura that bursted rapidly around Minerva, the raw magic energy taking on a tangible and visible state from her rage.

"Minerva…" Erza said in a warning, "Stop this. You can control yourself."

Minerva growled at that, balling her fists and clenching her teeth. This only made the magic around her more violent since her anger was starting to control her and her mind. In seeing this, Erza let out a low breath before closing her eyes. She had to counter Minerva's power, and so Erza caused her own raw magic to erupt around her in a flaring crimson aura that rivaled Minerva's own. Opening her eyes, Erza gazed into Minerva's own with a determined expression, unwavering and standing her ground.

"Go ahead and let it out if you must." Erza stated, voice commanding, "Just know that I can match you."

Minerva stared at Erza for a few tense, heavy moments, breathing harsh and forced and magic unpredictable. However, even in this state ruled by anger, Minerva knew that she would be evenly matched, or at least Erza would put up enough of a decent fight that no longer made things worth it for Minerva, so she knew to stop. The magic around her rippled off of her and faded into nonexistence, leaving a gust of wind in its wake. Minerva panted from the energy that left her, and soon she shook her head and turned away, walking back to Porlyusica's house.

Erza lifted an arm to shield her face from the magic, but was surprised when the only thing she was met with was a harmless current of wind that caused her hair to blow. She powered down as well, though her magic peacefully dissipated compared to Minerva's sudden disbursement. She ran after Minerva as she stormed off towards Porlyusica, unsure of what the other was planning, "Minerva, wait!"

Pushing the door open, Minerva spotted Porlyusica shortly enough and walked up to her, exuding an intimidating presence but otherwise promising no harm, "You… I need you to do something."

Erza burst into the room after that, trying to stop Minerva from doing anything rash but stopped when she realized Minerva wasn't going to hurt Porlyusica at all.

Porlyusica seemed a little unnerved by the sudden request, but she didn't show much of her concern, "Which is…?"

Minerva joined her wrists together in front of her, balling her fists and holding her hands forward towards Porlyusica with a pleading look, "The blockers. Now."

"Minerva, that's hardly necessary-" Erza cut in, stepping so that she was standing right beside Porlyusica and Minerva both.

"Yes, it is." Minerva countered, looking at Erza before back to Porlyusica, "I'm volatile. I can barely control my own magic in this state. I'm a danger to both myself and the two of you, and I'm not going to let myself hurt either one of you. I don't have the ability to stop myself on my own. I need the magic blockers. Please."

Erza froze, eyes shooting wide and unable to speak. She was rendered speechless by Minerva suddenly stepping up to take responsibility for herself, and so shortly after that outburst of hers as well. Erza chalked it up to Minerva using the few moments of herself being the dominant power in her mind to protect everyone just in case she would lose control shortly afterwards. Even though she didn't agree with it or saw the need just yet, Erza wasn't going to stop Minerva.

Porlyusica looked surprised to see Minerva even knowing of the magic blockers' existence, but she didn't keep hesitating for long. She took the two artifacts from her drawer and fastened them around Minerva's wrists, and soon the small lacrima orb embedded in each of the artifacts started to glow a purple color similar to Minerva's raw energy. Minerva looked the bracelets over once they were clasped around her wrists, feeling restrained already.

"Are they working?" Erza asked, stepping closer.

"Yeah." Minerva responded quietly, "Not even my Territory Magic is working."

Erza nodded weakly, "Are you sure you needed this?"

"Erza…" Minerva bleakly shook her head, "It's for the best. You saw what I nearly did. The only reason why I didn't attack was because I knew you would stop me."

Erza didn't say anything in regards to that incident, since her own display of magic was mostly a bluff; Erza wondered if she could even come close to Minerva at full power. Minerva didn't have to know that however, so Erza left it alone. "If you're sure… I'm proud of you for being this responsible for yourself."

Minerva nodded, and in that moment, the marks receded down her face, opening her eye at the very least. Erza smiled at the sight.

"We can work on controlling those next." Erza said with a hint of hope to her voice, "They seem to run independently from magic, so the magic blockers won't interfere in trying to tame the markings. Who knows… maybe the blockers will even be helpful?"

Minerva only sighed. Leave it to Erza to try and spin the terrible situation into something positive. Again Minerva was clueless as to how Erza worked, and at that point, she was too tired to try and delve into Erza's mind to understand it.

Minerva's gaze drifted down to her arms again. She hated how her cherished magic was now robbed from her, and she couldn't help but feel angry as a result, but she could keep this anger in check. A part of her remembered how this would only be temporary, so at least she could look forward to getting her magic back someday. For once, Minerva could see what it was like to know that she had done the right thing, and she wondered if that was what Erza experienced every day.

Did Erza also feel a terrible taste in her mouth whenever she did the right thing?

#writing misadventures #minerva orland #erza scarlet #minerza #fairy tail #dove sings #wooo done

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