#loki the music connoisseur | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illwynd · 3 years

Text

Bewitch You All Night

So here’s the next installment of spookyfics based on horror movies. Though in this case that’s not quite accurate. Instead, this one’s loosely based on the music video to Ghost’s “Dance Macabre.”

Thorki, AU with Actual Giant Jotun Loki and Party Thor.

Contents: death, gore, cannibalism, body horror, dubious consent, extreme size difference, mind control

It is the first time in Thor’s recollection that he has ever hesitated in this way on the threshold of a party.

It had been Fandral’s idea, Fandral who had heard of some upcoming celebration to take place in the Jotun realm.

Thor’s ears had perked up at the first mention. Lately, the realms had begun to seem dull to him, the colors grey, the savor of everything fading. It hardly made sense, of course—how could his life of perpetual merriment be anything but pleasurable?—but nonetheless, the thrill of it had been slipping through his fingers, no matter how hard he grasped.

“On Jotunheim?” Thor asked. There was little interaction between their realms, few dealings. All sorts of rumors, though, salacious and shocking. Most of them likely untrue.

Fandral had nodded.

“And how exactly did you learn of it?”

“I overheard someone in the tavern, who said they had heard about it from a Dark Elf. It’s supposed to be a party unparalleled in all the realms,” Fandral shrugged. “So that ought to be right up our alley.”

Perhaps this would be exactly what he needed. Novelty. Some new entertainment to break him out of the boredom that had been coming over him more and more of late.

Thor’d had to consider it only a moment before he agreed to help Fandral convince the others.

To Volstagg, the two of them hinted at what untasted delights might be discovered on Jotun feasting tables.

To Hogun and Sif, what contests of strength and games of wit they might face.

“For my part,” Fandral added, “I also heard there will be comely maidens. And handsome men as well. So I’m certain it will be an enjoyable time for us all.”

So here they now stand, and something clenches tight in Thor’s insides as he tilts his face up at the sheer icy edifice of the castle they had finally identified as surely the place they sought. It has a dark, forbidding look, but even that is not what gives him pause.

His celebrations have laid waste to many a venue. The boisterous force of his revelry is renowned. This place would be no match for him as well, of course, no matter how many of the rumors are true. But...

“I am no longer certain,” he mumbles. He feels a growing dread like a physical affliction. Like he stands upon a different sort of threshold entirely. “We were not invited, were we? Perhaps we should not…”

Fandral, though, is already laughing and pounding his fist on the door, demanding entry.

The one who opens it, too quickly for Thor to even think of turning to leave, is quite clearly a Jotun witch. Aged and bent, she still towers over them. She has but a single red, rheumy eye in her head, and it squints down.

“What do you want?”

It is again Fandral who answers. “Greetings, great lady! We come for the festivities, and we have traveled far so we ask your leave to enter so we can get on with it!”

The single eye squints tighter. “Festivities?”

Behind her, through the crack of the door, there is a distant hubbub of motion and sound, as of many people mingling.

“Aye, the ones we can hear and see from where we stand! We have been told there is nowhere better than this place for diversions and pleasures—and we are connoisseurs thereof!”

Meanwhile, Thor stands as if frozen, and he can hear the tipsy echoes of agreement from his friends around him, but he feels only the weight of that red eye as it fixes upon him. The witch studies him particularly, and he feels her gaze upon his very soul.

The next moment her deep-lined mouth splits into a grin, sharp teeth visible within it.

“We have been expecting you,” she says, standing aside and gesturing for them to enter.

Thor’s friends crowd past, whooping in celebration, and he follows, carried along by the current.

It is indeed a party unparalleled, with feasting tables piled impossibly high with delicacies. With mead and ale flowing like rivers into every cup. With singing and dancing and wrestling and all manner of games, and the crowd of giants within—they shout in welcome to the new arrivals. The Asgardians are beckoned among them like royalty, all, and it is only—somehow—emphasized by the difference in their stature.

Volstagg is lifted up to sit upon the table, so that he can reach all the delicacies there more easily, and a fascinated crowd gathers around to listen as he expounds upon what he finds.

Sif and Hogun disappear together into the circle where giants are wrestling with each other, voices crying out that of course they may join the fight as a team against one Jotun.

Fandral even manages to kiss the much larger hand of a Jotun woman, and when Thor last spots the two amidst the crowd, the Jotun woman is bending low to let Fandral whisper in her ear, and and Thor thinks he can spot a flush of violet upon her cheeks.

All around him is laughter and dancing and delight.

Thor does his best to relax into it, overcoming his earlier misgivings. He allows himself to be coaxed along, the drink in his hand smoothing everything into a warm hum.

This is what he does, isn’t it? As Fandral enjoys romantic conquests and Volstagg indulges in the pleasures of the table and Sif and Hogun take delight in contests and combat. Thor, for a thousand years, has lived for celebration, and he cannot imagine anything better.

He is emptying his third or fourth barrel when he feels a gaze upon him again, and he thinks of the witch at the door, but when he turns it is someone new.

Thor stares up at the most beautiful giant he has ever seen. Well over twice his height, but with limbs long and elegant and not nearly as bulky as Thor expects of the Jotnar. Deep blue skin, with sweeping patterns of his lineage, and gleaming black nails at the ends of his long fingers, and devious, clever, wicked red eyes.

The Jotun looks Thor up and down in the same moment, clearly equally interested.

“Hello,” the Jotun says, and his voice is beautiful as well. Enchanting, even. “Thor, is it? Am I truly meeting the crown prince of Asgard tonight?”

Thor remembers his manners and bows deeply, instinctively aware that this is his host at this party. “You are. But I am sorry to say I do not know your name.”

“It’s Loki,” the Jotun says with a grin, and he holds out his hand.

Thor clasps a fingertip in lieu of a handshake.

They chat, lightly, about this and that, the same sort of talk Thor is used to at such events. Or rather, it begins that way, but it is not long before they are wrapped in far deeper conversation. They sit upon a luxurious seat at the head of the room so they can gaze out at all the goings-on and enjoy the many entertainments. Once or twice at the start Thor futilely seeks out the sight of his friends among the crowd, and he realizes he has lost track of them.

But it is no matter. In truth Thor quickly ceases to notice anything else but Loki.

They talk, and every word Loki says sounds sweet. Every topic he chooses is fascinating. Every perspective he shares is new and strange and beautiful.

And his touch—what brief, friendly touches there have been—awakens something, and it comes alive in Thor so swiftly it hurts.

Thor has lived his life as an endless cavalcade of revels and merriment, drunken days and delirious nights, while years and centuries slipped away unheeded.

And none of it had meant anything.

It had all been so empty.

What Thor has been feeling lately is more than mere boredom, he realizes now. He has feasted for centuries and he is starving. Starving for this. For more. For meaning. For purpose. And he knows, somehow, that he will find it at this Jotun’s hand. He is meant to be here, now. He feels as if doom has struck him all at once and placed him in its own path, and that he is from now on a part of some new unfolding of the realms.

“It is wonderful that you found your way here tonight, Thor,” Loki says, one fingertip lifted to dare to touch his face. “Do you know why?”

“Why?” Thor asks, smiling back at the beautiful giant. He is vaguely aware that the sounds of celebration are quieting. They have been speaking like this for hours. The torches must be burning low, as well; the light in the room is dipping into soft glows and softer shadows.

“Because I hoped to find a king, a partner for myself. I could not have guessed to seek you from among the Aesir.”

“A king?” Thor asks in confusion.

Loki shrugs. “You see, I am a sorcerer. My magic will be even stronger once I have a lover bound to me, a lover who will allow me to draw from their energies as I draw from my own. But I am also a prince. So I cannot find such a lover just anywhere. It would be best if he were a prince, too. And best of all if he is one so lovely and so strong and so sweet. Like you.”

Thor’s heart races, and he is not sure whether he feels trepidation or excitement. “How can we be lovers when you are so much larger than I?”

Loki’s grin grows wider. “Would you like to find out?”

Thor is in a daze.

He agrees, and he finds himself being lifted up onto the table and laid down on his back, and he feels far drunker than he had been but a moment before.

“Loki, what are you doing?” he asks, though really he must already know, as impossible a thought as it is. He knows, and he will not let himself think it.

Large hands peel his clothes from his body, leaving him pale and bare and vulnerable, laid out like a meal there upon the giant’s feasting table.

“Seeing if you are truly suited to be my king, Thor.”

Thor’s head is spinning. “This isn’t proper—my friends are—I do not want them to see—”

“Proper?” Loki laughs. “Oh, I think they are far past caring about that, darling.”

Where are his friends, in fact? He feels he has not seen or heard them in hours. He cranes his neck awkwardly, trying to glance around the room, and his gaze is caught upon something—something—he cannot quite—

“Sif?” he calls out. “Hogun? Volstagg? Fandral?”

His gaze is caught upon motion, and a single, rheumy red eye. The Jotun witch sits at the far end of the table upon which he now lies, and she is paying him no attention at all, only idly gnawing at a bone from her meal. A femur bone that looks almost delicate in her hand, and it is bloody-red with strings of uncooked muscle, as if the beast it came from was slaughtered but a little while ago.

Loki’s hands are upon his thighs, wrenching them gently and inexorably apart, far stronger than he, especially intoxicated as he is, and Thor’s attention is brought back to him. He tries to protest, to say they cannot possibly—Loki is far too large for him—they cannot—

“Shh,” Loki soothes. “Of course we can’t yet. But we must discover your potential. I will not hurt you. Just this.”

His smallest finger strokes between Thor’s legs. He wets it with oil from a bottle on the table. He slides it gradually into him while Thor shudders and gasps. Thor thinks of that close-trimmed, gleaming black fingernail. He can feel the smoothness of it for a moment, and then it is deep inside.

Thor whimpers at the sensation, and he gazes up into Loki’s eyes.

Loki’s smallest finger fills him as full as any cock he’s ever taken, and Thor wonders at that in terror. Loki’s organ must be half the girth of Thor’s entire waist, at least.

Loki pumps it in and out of him in slow stretches, bent over him so he can watch how Thor responds—oh, it fills him so deep, so thick, that he cannot help but writhe, though it is so large inside him and Loki looms above him and Thor is aware that he could likely not even move enough to pull away if he wanted to, so full is he.

“You have potential indeed,” Loki whispers to him, in a voice full of love. “You take it so well. Just as well as you’ve taken to my magic this evening. It’s like you were made for me. You did not even fight it.”

Thor tries to think, as difficult as it is with the rising tide of pleasure pulling him along, and the same deep hunger for meaning, the same certainty that he is meant to be here, that this is his fate, and that he wants it desperately.

Thor tries to think.

“Where are my friends?” he pleads, when he can gasp in the breath to do so—it feels like he has little room left in his body for air.

Loki looks at him and his lip quirks but he does not answer. “You take it so well,” he repeats instead. “You will be perfect once I’ve remade you. I will reshape your very bones until you are a perfect sheath for me.”

Horror rises in Thor’s belly alongside the desire, the want, the need, and he can no longer deny that out of the corner of his eye he can see smears of blood on the cold floor far below, ripped clothing in piles, a few discarded scraps of tendon and meat. All that’s left of his companions, his friends.

And now the sated Jotnar are watching this happen to him, as if it is all merely another part of their night’s revels, barely of note at all.

“Forever you will be with me once you are ready to be my king,” Loki whispers while he plunges his finger deeper inside, twisting and beckoning so that Thor can see the outline of motion where it stretches the skin of his belly, and Loki bends lower to press a tender kiss just there upon him.

His lips practically span Thor’s trembling torso.

Thor wants to weep. He is too overwhelmed. He has not felt this much in ages.

And he loves it.

“Forever you will be with me, serving me, granting me power through our union, and you will know how precious you are to me, how much I value you. Forever you will be ruling with me, and I will repay your service with pleasure. No longer will your life be empty. It will always be full.”

Thor’s body shudders and clenches and spasms, and all he can think is Yes, yes, yes!

#thorki #thorkiedit #thorloki #my fic #spookyfic

19 notes · View notes

itallstartedwithharry · 2 years

Text

Rogers: The Musical

The internet had strong opinions about it. The surviving avengers hadn’t broadcast their opinions about it.

Loki? Loved it.

This would likely surprise anyone familiar with him, given their public clash in Germany and that the god had rarely passed up an opportunity to mock the titular character with illusions. But the musical was over-dramatic, whimsical, and very importantly, included Loki himself.

Given that he had plenty of time (that whole concept changing was still new to him), he had seen every company production produced anywhere in the world. As well as assuming no less than 14 unique identities to submit reviews for said productions. And, occasionally, ensuring that certain reviewers woke up to unfortunate circumstances without crossing lines to draw attention to himself. Otherwise, the New York Times reviewer who slammed a director’s decision to cast a woman as Loki would have found himself in much more of a pickle than water conveniently coming from the ceiling to destroy his laptop, television, gaming system, and expensive shaving products that happened to all be open.

Sure, he thought his character had earned more than one solo number, which he had expressed through multiple avenues with no luck yet. However, having been a connoisseur of the theater arts himself back on Asgard, he thoroughly enjoyed the impact he was able to make. Many Lokis found themselves receiving fan mail, director’s instructions, or castmates’ suggestions on how to alter their performance. And it never failed to bring the true Loki satisfaction than to hear a quip of his receive laughs and applause from the audience.

What always amused him was each iteration’s take on how his character arc ended. Was he sent to Asgard? Did he escape? Did he just…disappear? Mandela effect, some people said.

Oh, Loki always thought, what they would do if they realized the actual truth.

#here have a tiny thing #god I want to write fic again in 2022 #itallstartedwithharry writes #loki #rogers the musical #Hawkeye show

6 notes · View notes

seidrborn · 3 years

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 & 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐊 .

LOKI SILVERTONGUE. jötunn—born, but to asgard true. trickster, liesmith, & golden—horned prince of the frozen north. carries a kingly air. loves humanity’s mythological interpretations of himself. highly private & selective, mature & canon divergent content herein.

DNI. do not follow if you are UNDER 18 or are NOT A ROLEPLAY BLOG. do not reblog my graphics or threads. do not interact if you have muses from the following fandoms : HARRY POTTER, HAZBIN HOTEL, HELLUVA BOSS, or HOMESTUCK. do not interact if you are intimidated at all by writing with duplicates or seeing me write with duplicates of your muse. do not follow if you are ageist, ableist, racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, cisphobic, bigoted, or some other sort of douchebag.

ADMIN. ARLO. 29. MST. aries. hiddlestan. proud supporter of the survey corps & team instinct & loki’s army ; horror connoisseur of medical intrigue & a mythology nut. enjoys superhero shenanigans, hoarding aus, & dark / horror content. constantly listens to music. also can be found at the following blogs : @onyxium ( LEVI ACKERMAN ) & @storystrange ( MULTIMUSE ).

LINKS. dossier. backstory. memes. pinterest.

#` ✦ ᴀ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ༄ ⋆.◦◝ ( OOC. )#DO NOT REBLOG.

6 notes · View notes

storystrange-arch · 3 years

Text

welcome to VEGVISEER, a PRIVATE + HIGHLY SELECTIVE + LOW ACTIVITY + MATURE MULTIMUSE ROLEPLAY BLOG !!

PRIVATE ? i will only interact & write with mutuals. SELECTIVE ? i won’t respond to everything that’s sent my way, & do not write threads in any particular order. in short, i write what inspires me. LOW ACTIVITY ? i have a life & plenty to do outside of tumblr. this is my hobby! if i’m not answering your ims or asks, i am probably not around.

𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺 .

𝑫𝑵𝑰 .

NO PERSONALS. INDIVIDUALS. any name that follows is someone that i will not under any circumstances allow on my dashboard for my own mental health & possibly for morality / legality reasons. do not follow me if you interact with any of these people. i will not be giving my reasons due to my drama policy unless there are issues that require a psa.

—bereavedconcupis / formerly divine-cosmonaut / ENIGMA. —ringwon / traumatvrge / formerly traumaturgic / CAT. —freedmfighter / RAVEN.

FANDOMS. if your muse is an integral part of any of the following fandoms, do not interact with me. i am not interested in their fandom mentality, author’s views, the drama that they carry, or simply their content. verses for outside characters are okay, inside characters are not.

—harry potter. —hazbin hotel. —helluva boss. —homestuck. —pokemon.

OOC CONTENT. don’t follow if your blog contains ableist, ageist, bigoted, cisphobic, homophobic, racist, sexist, or transphobic content. don’t follow if you spend ridiculous amounts of time using your roleplay blog as a sociopolitical platform, i don’t the spoons for the amount of armchair activism on tumblr. don’t follow if you’re somehow of the mindset that the author’s views must somehow also be my own or that what i write is what i condone ... because we all know that’s not true. NO KINS. this is not a kin friendly blog. it makes me very uncomfortable. NO GENDERBENDS. see the above reason. NO IC BLOGS. i’m not interested in the trend. if your blog is 50 / 50, as many in the south park fandom are, then you’re in the clear. i will not follow blogs that only blog in character. NO BLOG POLICING. this is my blog & safe space. boundaries are safe to draw for both parties without attempting to cancel the other for not behaving the way that is desired. if we don’t mesh that’s fine! i’m here to have a good time & release stress, not to be bitched at over a computer screen for writing something that someone doesn’t like or agree with.

𝑨𝑫𝑴𝑰𝑵 .

ARLO. 29. MST ( colorado ). aries. hiddlestan. proud supporter of the survey corps & team instinct & loki’s army ; horror connoisseur of medical intrigue & a mythology nut. enjoys superhero shenanigans, hoarding aus, & dark / horror content. constantly listens to music. FACECLAIM. snufkin from the moomin franchise! SCHEDULE. i work full time for amazon four days a week! ( sun—wed 13:00—00:15 ) DISCORD. will be selectively given out.

#⊱ 𝑂𝑈𝑇. — OOC. ⊰

4 notes · View notes

thorne93 · 4 years

Note

My darling😍. What about shipping me with someone from Marvel and Criminal Minds?? Right now I'm studying business. I love reading, writing and wine. Friends have described me as funny, reserved and very confident when I speak about something I know, like books, music, art or wines. I'm the biggest wine fan ever. My dream job is teaching italian literature or art at the University. I love both, Inside a criminal mind and Unforseen Chasm. I mean how can you not? Both are glorious!🥰❤

Okay, straight up, you’re a baller, we already knew this. But daaayyum, girl, you sound like you’re a straight up First Class gal. Got literature over here, a wine connoisseur. This is what I think of when I see you, plus a wine glass, and some diamonds dripping of you. Pinnacle of class and sophistication, darling.

Marvel - Loki Odinson/Laufeyson

Loki absolutely drips in sophistication and finesse. He is nothing if not poetic, fierce, elegant, and well versed. He spends his days reading the best literature and splurging on fine wines, fruits, and cheeses. Dates would include talking romantic walks through vineyards, having picnics overlooking the land and the growing grapes. Perhaps, with your business skills and knowledge, and his savvy, you may even open a vineyard of your own. He’d make a bottle in your name of course, the loveliest, sweetest wine you two would sell. He’d gift you books he insist you read and then he would soak up every one of your thoughts when you were finished. Of course, it isn't a one way street. He would beg for a list of your favorite books and he’d make a mad dash for the book store to get them and read them quickly. He’d treat you as his queen and would support you to pursue every one of his dreams. All he asks in return is your love.

Criminal Minds - Spencer Reid

While our resident encyclopedia doesn’t have a proclivity for wine, he does absolutely adore literature and teaching. Your dates would be wildly romantic and intimate. Every Monday, you two swap books you love, and read them in your spare time. By Saturday, you trade them back and discuss your thoughts. Being a professor himself, he would relish in the fact that teaching is your passion. He would offer help and advice but ultimately would know it’s your classroom and give you freedom and support tor unit how you see fit. He’s also extremely like you in the way that when he talks, it’s typically only to provide context or information, and then, he rants... like a lot. But ask him about himself and he becomes quiet. So he is both reserved of himself, but he has word vomit when it comes to things he’s passionate about.

2 notes · View notes

enter-the-phantom · 4 years

Note

Overture for everybody? And Sonata for Platonic Sev?

Overture: Do you or your f/o have a favourite band/artist? What is it?

Canon Snape: He loves opera and classical, but he also has an appreciation for mopey artsy new-wave, especially from the 80’s. He loves Tears for Fears and The Smiths and I introduced him to my favourite ever album, Lord Huron’s “Strange Trails”. He likes the storytelling, and he likes it because I like it.

AU Sev: Honestly, same as Canon, although he does have a slightly broader range that includes edgy emo rock (especially MCR. Omg, him and MCR). He also really likes The Cure. I turned him on to my collection of 80’s new wave when we were in school and we’d spend hours listening to The Smiths on his bedroom floor together.

Peter: Peter loves anything from the 70’s and 80’s, especially glam rock. Sweet and Bon Jovi, David Bowie and Queen...he likes it all. His taste in music is actually how we became such close friends and how we bonded!

Tony: Tony likes classic rock, especially AC/DC and the lighter stuff from Metallica.

Steve: Steve likes his classics. Sinatra and Gershwin-style stuff. I showed him Postmodern Jukebox and he can’t get enough of it, it’s the only way he enjoys modern music.

Makoto: Mako isn’t a big music gal, but she does seem to like Taylor Swift. I’ve noticed she also enjoys American Country, which is just super cute. I played it for her once when we were sharing cultural stuff, and she loved it.

Metatron: Metatron doesn’t really get mortal music. He loves orchestral music and choral, but other than that I think it confuses him somewhat. I’m still teaching him.

Hans: Hans is a huge snob who will only listen to classical and opera. I asked him about German music one time and he just turned on Handel.

Billy: Billy likes classic rock and 80’s synthpop. When he’s in his lab it’s usually New Order or Oingo Boingo.

James: James will listen to almost anything, but I recently introduced him to a very obscure European genre known as bubblegum dance (remember Barbie Girl? It’s that. That’s an entire genre). He absolutely loves it. He likes Aqua but he’s also fond of Banaroo and my favourite, SmileDK. I’ve had the worst time trying to find new stuff for him.

Loki: Loki likes metal, especially folk metal. Darkest Era, Nightwish, Heilung, almost anything he can get his hands on, especially if it’s Nordic. Maybe because he’s a god of mischief he also has a really weird penchant for stupid parody artists. Weird Al and Wally Pleasant never fail to entertain him. He also likes classic rock.

As for me, I’m somewhat of a connoisseur of weird and unusual stuff. You’d have to check my FAQ’s (which really need to be updated...maybe I’ll do that today) for a very incomplete list. Recently I discovered Wally Pleasant and I’m hilariously hooked.

Sonata: Are they into musicals? Do they have a favourite?

Canon Snape: Supposedly not. But he did enjoy Phantom of the Opera and Jekyll & Hyde, so I’m trying to find more gothic depressing shit for him. He’s trying to be supportive because he knows I love musicals and I’m studying stage acting, but they’re just not his thing. He’s a huge opera snob, though.

2 notes · View notes

sorshania · 6 years

Text

Rocking the Trickster

Prompt:

Summary: Gabriel had learned, lifetimes ago, that the quickest, easiest way to weed out over-pompous asses making people’s lives miserable was to work at the most menial, low-ranked jobs possible. He just had to be there, minding his own business, and let the assholes come to him like bees to honey. And this job is no different than the others.

He just need to remember to keep a low profile.

Pairing: Gen

Word Count: 2763

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first time taking part of the @gabriel-monthly-challenge and my first SPN fic in about forever!! (Yes, it took this archangel being brought back from the dead...) I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you guys will enjoy it.

Huge thanks and kudos to @chattydm for stabbing having a go at it with the Red Pen of Doom and helping me make it all much better :p

Mention of American Gods plot, I kept it vague on purpose because 1) Gabriel is not aware of it 2) I didn’t to go full AU mode (yet)

Tags: @archangelsanonymous @lacqueluster @archangel-with-a-shotgun and @revwinchester

AO3 Link or read below :)

Gabriel had learned, lifetimes ago, that the quickest, easiest way to weed out over-pompous asses making people’s lives miserable was to work at the most menial, low-ranked jobs possible. He just had to be there, minding his own business, and let the assholes come to him like bees to honey.

Over the countless years since he left Heaven, he had worked a vast array of such jobs. Camel driver, serf, body-snatcher, lector in a manufactory... He actually liked that one! He got to entertain the factories’ workers, and telling stories was his thing. Plus, he got a high seat. A perfect way to keep an eye on everyone, especially those he decided to target for his “little life lessons”.

Heck! He even drove a truck for PEPSI for a while, delivering one of his favorite drinks all over the US. If his brothers saw what he had become… The mighty Gabriel, a truck delivery driver… Well, to be honest, Lucifer would probably bust a feather laughing.

That was ages ago. He shook his head, smiling a little as he returned his mind to the present. He took the pad the production coordinator handed him, quickly pushing all thoughts of his brothers away. It was a simple job, as they all were. He just had to to be a little more careful than usual to keep a low profile. He was in Iowa, not too far from Ohio, where he did his last job as a janitor for Ohio State. The last thing he needed was over-zealous hunters figuring out he had tricked them and follow through with their plan to kill him. Besides, if he remembered correctly, there was also a hunter congregation point, right in the next state. Another reason not to rock the boat.

“Gabe…?” He smirked, rather proud of his idea to hide in plain sight. He rarely gave in to the temptation though, preferring made-up names or generic ones. Thankfully, naming their child “Gabriel” was still popular among parents, considering how often he heard it. But the voice calling for his attention was not the voice of his long-lost brother or sister, it was the voice of the one of the musicians he was supposed to be attached to.

Right. Focus on the job: Production Assistant, or PA as they called it, to this budding indie music group. And keep a low profile. Simple. “Sorry for that! I just… spaced out for a moment.” He made sure to sound extra cheerful as he handed the pad back to the producer. The lead guitar just smiled at him but the lead singer scoffed. Great! A Diva! Oh… He was SO on Gabriel’s naughty list.

The music group he was working with wasn’t so bad. He learned that they had become friends in high school, and the lead singer and guitarist were brothers. They kept an easy feeling of camaraderie around them, curbing most of Keith’s, the lead singer, asshole tendencies.

He did a pretty good job at keeping it under the radar. It wasn’t *his* fault if the strings from Keith’s guitar suddenly snapped off, breaking the instrument’s neck in the process, just as he was about to start his solo. Clearly it was a sign of abuse, despite the singer’s claim and bewilderment. Of course, Gabriel had dashed off, only to come back just as quickly with a suitable replacement. That happened to be bright pink. With My Little Pony stickers all over its body and bright neon pink strings. Gabriel thought it did wonders bringing out the red in the singer’s bloodshot eyes.

Neither was he responsible if, somehow, Keith’s shampoo bottle ended up filled with hair removal product, forcing the man to completely shave the long hair he was so proud of. He kept complaining about it throughout the day and to whoever was willing to listen (or look like they cared), until the drummer told to shove it and keep his breath for singing. Besides, it was well-known that “chicks dig bald head after all”. Gabriel didn’t know if it was because of the “chick” comment or just the fact the usually silent drummer spoke, but Keith finally shut up and the rehearsal finished without any more hitch.

Granted, sending homophobic Keith to a bar hosting one of RuPaul’s Drag Race Main Challenge that specific night, may have been his doing. But heh! They played Classic Rock all the time! And you never mess with the classics. Not to mention that Keith appeared to be quite the connoisseur, judging by how often he commented and complained about his fellow musicians.

(It still didn’t beat the slow-dancing aliens Gabriel willed out of thin air, but this one was in his personal top 5.)

All in all, the Trickster was quite proud of himself. Knocking the ever-pompous ass down a peg, but subtly, every time he acted out, was kind of fun. Reminded him of the time he took the mantle of “Loki”. Gabriel chuckled, singing softly as he finished cleaning up the record studio.

“I didn’t know you sang.”

Gabriel yelped, nearly dropping his broom. Few people could sneak up on him. He turned around to see Keith’s brother, Joey, standing in the doorway.

“Ah…” Gabriel looked away, a little embarrassed. He didn’t thought the kid had heard him. “I used to… About a few centuries ago…” It wasn’t technically a lie; the last time he truly sang, he was with his brothers in the Silver City. He glanced again at Joey when he heard him make some non-committal sound.

The kid was an enigma. Gabriel had learned, from the first day he started working with them, that he was Keith’s older brother and that the music group was their dream. Joey mainly worked on the songs and musical arrangements, while Keith, making good use of his outgoing personality and ambition, took care of the fans, dealt with the production people, and made sure to get their names out there. Still, Joey never gave into pride the way Keith did.

He was polite, gracious even, thanking the people hovering around them both and making sure his requests were never obnoxious. That didn’t mean he was a push-over either. One time, when the producer, tired and annoyed that Keith had stormed off of rehearsal for the nth time, suggested Joey took over as lead vocals, the musician had flat out refused. And stood his ground until the producer backed down when he realised it would be foolish to continue pushing the issue.

It wasn’t as if Keith couldn’t sing. The man had talent, there was no denying it. But he was so difficult to work with. Gabriel suspected the only reason people stayed and helped was because they liked Joey more than they hated Keith. Yet, there had been times when Gabriel had caught Keith glancing at this brother, as if looking for his approval.

Still, Gabriel wondered why Joey would reject the producer’s proposal so violently. Joey merely shrugged when he asked him about it and insisted to stay behind that evening to help Gabriel finish his chores. Despite Gabriel’s protests. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t get the work done with a snap of his fingers, after all.

“He’s not the first to suggest it.” Joey finally answered after a time. “Nor will he be the last… But… see, Keith… He’s made for this. He’s… He can shine under the spotlights like… like I never could. And I’m not jealous! I’m happy to write the songs when he works on getting our names out there. I’m happy to be there for him, so he can shine.” And he just smiled and got back to work.

It sounded like total bullshit, in Gabriel’s opinion. He had never met anyone who wouldn’t enjoy being in the spotlight. Maybe Joey just needed a little incentive…

The next time Keith was being an ass, Gabriel got the opportunity to hit two birds with one stone. It was last day after all, despite the production team not being aware of it yet, and he had always prided himself leaving on a high note. Pun not intended.

Gabriel made a discreet rippling gesture with the fingers of his right hand. One minute, Keith was yelling and growling and ranting and being a general pain in the butt, and the next, nothing. Just… Silence. Pure. Sweet. Silence. And there was nothing to be done to change the situation.

That threw the production out for a loop. They were in the middle of recording a very important session. It was one of the rare duets sang by the brothers. And this one that had the potential to change everything and getting the group recognized. Gabriel only hoped Joey was ready to go at it, solo. He did feel a little bit guilty when he saw the fear and panic written all over the kid’s face. Best make a quick exit.

“Gabe? Gabe?! GABRIEL?!!! WAIT!!!”

Dammit. Joey had managed to catch up just as he was about to step outside. A few more steps and… Gabriel sighed and turned around, unable to resist the fear and worry and hope in the guy’s voice. He knew he should have flown out of there but didn’t want to risk it.

“Gabriel… You have to help…” Joey panted. “You have to sing Keith’s part…”

“Come again?”

“You have to sing. It’s the only way we can get the sing out in time.”

“You’re joking right? Why don’t you do it solo?” Maybe the kid really needed to be pointed the obvious.

But Joey just shook his head. “Can’t… not the right voice… doesn’t carry well… would ruin the song… But, yours… Yours could work… Just…”

“Joey, that’s ridi- “

“Listen, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine… But -”

“Gabe is right… You have to sing.” A raspy voice, barely above a whisper interrupted them.

They turned around to see Keith standing beside them. Gabriel could have hit himself. He truly was getting old. And he couldn’t just zap out there, he was really committed to see this through as low-profile as he could.

“You know it won’t work! It’s a duet! It needs to be sung by two people!” Joey protested, getting angry. “My voice is way too clear and high for your parts! I’ll end up sounding like a bad mash up of Alvin and Chipmunks, with a head-cold!!!”

“Then, we forget this, we wait for another opportunity and use this to work on new material.”

The brothers stared at each other. Meanwhile, Gabriel couldn’t believe what was happening. Aside for the Alvin thingie part, that he could. Joey’s voice had reached a surprising high note in his distress. No, what surprised him was that Keith, Pompous-Asshole-Keith, was calmly trying to calm his brother down. Keith who was not even furious at the step back his nearly muteness was causing but who was in fact trying to find a solution. Gabriel was truly confused. Either this session must mean a lot more to them than he first thought, or he accidentally causes Opposite Day.

A heavy hand landing on his shoulder brought him back to the situation at hand. “Can you sing my part?”

Gabriel looked up to see Keith staring at him. The brothers appeared to have reach some kind of agreement while he was busy puzzling over what was happening. “Look… I know I’ve been an ass… and I have no right to ask you this.” Keith was saying. “But, it’ll help us greatly if you helped us out.”

“You… You can’t be serious.”

“Joey says you’re good. And that’s good enough for me.” By now, Keith was nearly growling, his voice giving out.

Gabriel scoffed, looking at each brother in turn.

The naked hope in their eyes tugged at something he buried a long time ago. “But I can’t play!” It was a cop-out, one last desperate attempt to get out.

And a poor one. Keith gave a lopsided small smile, as if he knew it. “I think I can help with that…”

Gabriel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

Bloody Hell.

The recording session was surprisingly easy. It took only one rehearsal to see how everyone worked together before they started recording. Gabriel’s presence raised a few eyebrows, but the Joey/Keith tandem quickly shut everyone up. It was impressive to see how efficiently they worked together. The other musicians just shrugged, happy a solution had been found. And Gabriel really got lost in the experience. It was surprising how easy and familiar it was to just be a part of something once again.

When the producer called out “And… it’s a wrap!” and everyone just… jumped around, nearly bursting with joy. Gabriel just stood there, unable to move, feeling the pats on his back and shoulders, the one-arm hugs. He was staring at the brothers, hugging and thumping each other’s back. They let go and just… stared at each other, before the rhythmic guitar player sauntered over, saying something that made Keith roar with laughter. Or he would have, if he still had a voice.

Gabriel was suddenly hit by a wave of homesickness. It was too much to take in. Too hard to breathe. He didn’t think.

He flew away, landing a few cities away, to try and get his bearings and calm the sudden hammering of his Grace. He usually managed to keep it at peace by entertaining himself with mortal ladies (and some goddesses), but… Nothing could have prepared him for the impact the sheer force of the tangled emotions he just witnessed, and caused.

“Well… You are not the one I had expected to find here.”

The voice came from behind him and Gabriel turned around to see a man emerged from the shadows. He was adjusting the cuffs of his tailored purple silk suit, his face hidden by the shadow cast by his hat.

“Hello Anansi.” Gabriel shoved his hands his pockets, mimicking the other’s relaxed pose. "Fancy meeting you here."

The cordial tone was a trick and they both knew it as they kept a respectful (and prudent) distance from one another.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he watched the African Trickster, half-wondering if he may or may not have been responsible for the sudden change of situation at the recording studio. Distances meant nothing for supernatural beings, and Anansi was known to work from afar. “I thought we both agreed to stay within our territories.” He said after a time. “Are you making a move?”

“Not at all.” Anansi said a little too smoothly, raising a hand, as if to indicate his peaceful intentions, his voice was singing, soothing, a mix of both Caribbean and African accents. “I am merely on my way to the House of Rock, to meet with the All-Father. Surely, you must be aware of this.”

Gabriel frowned slightly. No, he didn't know the Old Gods were meeting. Truth be told, he wasn’t really close to his alleged fellows, not wanting to risk the off-chance of revealing his true nature. This had caused Odin to make numerous complains, and thin-veiled insults, about his lack of “investment in their plight.” Not that Gabriel really cared. “I have been travelling a lot lately.” He shrugged. “Perhaps my invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Perhaps…” Anansi said though he did not push the issue.

Gabriel was the first to break the ensuing silence. “In any case, I shall let you be on your way.” He stepped aside to let the man pass. “While we both know Odin loves his theatrics, I won’t begrudge you your grand entrance.”

“Indeed.” Anansi tipped his hat as thanks, to which Gabriel responded with a nod.

They kept an eye on each other as the African Trickster walked past him. Just in case.

“By the way, Loki,” Anansi said, his back now to Gabriel, judging he was at a safe enough distance, “I have heard stories.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Stories of wars. Stories of hurt. Stories of betrayal. Stories of brother fighting brother. Of friend turning against friend.” He turned around to look over his shoulder. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and Gabriel wondered one more time how much he knew. And if it was a threat he needed to take care of. “You might want to be careful not to get caught in the crossfire.” He said evenly.

“I will. Thank you for the warning.”

Anansi nodded and disappeared, leaving the former archangel in the dark street, wondering about what was about to come next.

THE END

#sorsha writes things #gabriel #gabriel monthly challenge #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

onyxium · 3 years

Text

PRIVATE + HIGHLY SELECTIVE + LOW ACTIVITY + MATURE ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR 𝑳𝑬𝑽𝑰 𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑵 FROM ATTACK ON TITAN. PRIVATE ? i will only interact & write with mutuals. inbox / ims are open to anyone. SELECTIVE ? i won’t respond to everything that’s sent my way, & do not write threads in any particular order. in short, i write what inspires me. LOW ACTIVITY ? i have a life & plenty to do outside of tumblr. this is my hobby! if i’m not answering your ims or asks, i am probably not around.

𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺.

LEVI. 34 years old. cis male. captain of the survey corps’ special squad & begrudging team dad. s tier titan slaying machine. probably will not kiss your oc.

𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺 .

FOLLOWING. i am incredibly choosy about who i follow ; please do not take any sort of offense if i don’t follow you back! to increase the likelihood of me doing so, please have your age clearly visible on your theme or in your rules ; failure to do so will result in me unfollowing or passing you by. i do not follow underaged roleplayers! INTERACTING. quickest way to interact with me is by sending memes! if you respond to a meme that i sent using tumblr’s ask system, i will create a new thread for it rather than reblog it directly to keep things neat & tidy. please TRIM YOUR REPLIES as you are able! CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT. triggering or otherwise. anything that falls into this category ( gore, sexual content, excessive violence, otherwise mature themes ) will be tagged with ╰—; 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍. ⋆ ( R18+. ) ; please blacklist that tag if you are sensitive to it, though lbr here we’re all in the snk fandom & know what we’re in for. TRIGGERS. i do not have any triggers that you need to worry about ; however if you need me to tag certain things that could trigger you, please send me a message about it!

𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑫 ‘ 𝑵𝑶 ’𝑺 .

NO BIGOTRY / SEXISM / RACISM / TRANSPHOBIA / HOMOPHOBIA / GENERAL DOUCHEBAGGERY / ETC.. just don’t be a fucker. i think that should go without saying, but apparently it doesn’t on tumblr dot com. NO PERSONALS. don’t follow or try to interact with me. don’t like / reblog my roleplays or graphics. all personals are blocked on sight, as are any blogs that cannot be determined to be roleplay blogs. NO ANON HATE OR DRAMA. this includes vaguing. this blog does not send or participate in anon hate, burn books, or anything of that nature, & i expect my followers to comport themselves in a similar manner. if i find that you have been engaging in these behaviors or your blog contains vague posting or too much ooc complaining or drama, i will block you. NO KINS. this is not a kin friendly blog. sorry, it makes me very uncomfortable. NO GENDERBENDS. see the above reason. NO BLOG POLICING. this is my blog & safe space. boundaries are safe to draw for both parties without attempting to cancel the other for not behaving the way that is desired. if we don’t mesh that’s fine! i’m here to have a good time & release stress, not to be bitched at by someone over a computer screen for writing something that someone doesn’t like or agree with. FANDOMS. if your muse is an integral part of any of the following fandoms, do not interact with me. i am not interested in partaking in their fandom mentality & the drama that they carry or simply their content. dc comics. harry potter. hazbin hotel. helluva boss. homestuck. marvel comics / mcu. my little pony. on that note, obviously do not follow me if you have attack on titan in your dni. duh. i don’t have the patience to constantly explain that just because i write a character from the fandom does not mean that i agree with the author’s views.

𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮.

I WILL NEVER HATE ON / UNFOLLOW YOU FOR YOUR SHIPS. MULTISHIP. i will not tolerate flack or jealousy. CHEMISTRY BASED. all ships are to be previously discussed if the muses seem to be interested in one another. levi is decidedly not pro—relationship, good luck. SMUT. more likely to occur than romance. if this bothers you, please blacklist the tag ╰—; 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍. ⋆ ( R18+. ) to avoid seeing it. I SHIP ERURI !! rivetra is also possible. pretty much if you aren’t erwin or petra, don’t expect a romantic relationship to come easily, if at all. only other relationship that is pre—established here is levi’s bond with FARLAN CHURCH.

𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑺.

GRAPHICS. psd is crossroads by jaynedits with some tweaks by me. they also made my icon frame, & i edited the faux block quotes. IMAGES. all art herein is from the manga for no regrets & various doujinshi unless otherwise noted!

𝑨𝑫𝑴𝑰𝑵 .

ARLO. 29. MST ( colorado ). aries. hiddlestan. proud supporter of the survey corps & team instinct & loki’s army ; horror connoisseur of medical intrigue & a mythology nut. enjoys superhero shenanigans, hoarding aus, & dark / horror content. constantly listens to music. FACECLAIM. snufkin from the moomin franchise! SCHEDULE. i work part time for amazon from 2—6pm sun—thurs. DISCORD. will be selectively given out.

#╰—; ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ﹗﹗ ⋆ ( OOC. )#rules post !!#long post is long i'm sorry but ... y'know. necessary.

4 notes · View notes