#bcs there have been sparks of pain that could be implying that that's what's happening. and i don't want BOTH of my sides to hurt.

[racke7]

Does my spine feel better? Not really? I can still feel it flare up at times. The main reason I don't think about my spine that much, is because my spine has always been a stiffening-pain.

It hurts to move, it hurts to lie still, but in between those two it's basically just an "oof"-situation.

Comparatively? The pain in my ribs is a "something terrible has happened" kind of stabbing-pain.

So if I wake up with spine-pain i just use my arms to drag me out of bed, and then I'm... mostly fine? As long as I don't lie back down, I'm safe for forever.

And if I wake up with this rib-pain? I can't use my entire left side. I can't use it because all of those muscles are locked down in "holy shit this hurts"-mode. And I can barely use my right side, because that causes "twisting" which stretches out those in-pain muscles. And they fucking hate that.

So, it hurts to remain still, it hurts to move, and it's all this stabbing pain that borders on actual cramping-up.

So, even if I wake up with my spine-pain? If I also wake up with my rib-pain? Then my rib-pain takes priority. It's hard to notice that stiffening pain underneath the sharp agony.

Which isn't really a big deal, right? I only get the rib-pain when I sit in front of the computer, right? It hasn't spontaneously migrated to instead trigger from lying down in my fucking bed, right?

Right?

[mythicamagic]

Fire and Brimstone: a Sesskag oneshot

For @harlecorn! ♥ Happy Birthday! 🎂

Rated T

A Hellhound remains bound beneath a church, waiting for the chance to enact revenge on his captors. His golden opportunity comes in the form of a blue-eyed woman. Sesskag AU oneshot.

You can read this on Ao3, Fanfiction.net and Dokuga

AN: This takes place in old-timey England. Think Witch Trial era - between the 15th and 18th century. However, I'm largely skipping the old language used in those times bc it would make dialogue feel awkward. If Kagome sounds weird it's bc I've had to lay off the modern talk a bit.

Warning: references to/implies torture

Fire and Brimstone

It was raining outside. Sesshoumaru could tell because a continuous leak somewhere had become his sole entertainment for several hours now. A thin sliver of water dripped from the roof between 10-second intervals, and he passed the time by counting them.

...Eight...Nine...Ten- drip!

A black nose twitched, picking up stale dampness lingering in the air. His body ached, but if he stayed still the wounds remained at a manageable dull, continuous pain rather than flaring white-hot agony.

How long had it been since he'd been dragged down into this dark place? He couldn't recall. Perhaps years. At the very least- months. He'd long since given up looking around at his prison, now laying in a dozing, frozen state.

Hearing something, Sesshoumaru's fluffy ear quirked. The blood inside his ear canal had encrusted, leaving sounds muted, but he could pick up distant footsteps descending stone stairs.

Have they returned to pray and bind me more tightly to their pathetic altar?

Sesshoumaru inwardly sneered, scarred paws remaining motionless. Though incredibly weak due to holy water- with his back and arms impaled with large iron stakes- a powerful, simmering rage in his chest refused to be tempered. His throat burned, belly scorching hot.

The church priest would pay, along with all his snivelling followers. One did not bind a Hellhound and live to tell the tale. Their foolish obsession with witch hunts and stamping out 'evil' within the land would be their undoing. They were fortunate they'd captured him while he'd been asleep.

Torchlight shone an orange hue behind Sesshoumaru's eyelids, but he refused to open them, playing possum.

"Still sleeping, are ye, unholy mutt?" a detestable, straight-laced voice reached his damaged ears, another torch being lit inside the room. "Good. Stay that way. Sleep until our heavenly Lord above casts you back from whence you came, down to Hell."

Oh this one will not be returning empty-handed, Sesshoumaru inwardly purred.

Remaining motionless, he looked for all the world unconscious. He couldn't lash out and tear into the priest as desired, due to a muzzle enclosed around his jaw. So, he bided his time. Rescue was out of the question. Dark creatures such as he received no aid from brethren. Sesshoumaru would just have to conserve energy for now.

The priest murmured a prayer that sent wrought iron hissing anew inside his flesh. Inwardly snarling, Sesshoumaru held himself still, refusing to show pain. His legs trembled slightly, giving him away.

Curse you. Curse you!

Wrath pumped through his veins, a siren song urging him to kill.

Satisfied that his work held strong, the head priest left; the sound of footsteps retreated up the stairs, leaving behind the lit torch.

At least that changed the scenery a little. Not that he had any reason to look upon it. Sesshoumaru panted hard the second he was left alone, sharp teeth clenching hard inside his jaw.

A quiet gasp caught his attention. Sesshoumaru froze. His nose twitched.

No scent?

Frowning, the Hellhound pried his eyelids open. Orange and black shapes shifted, blurry until someone's face came into focus.

Blue eyes gazed down at him. A woman with dark hair tumbling down her back slowly pried her hand away from her mouth.

"They really are cruel," she muttered, shocked features becoming grave. "I might as well refrain from asking if you're alright- since you clearly aren't," the stranger winced. "Sorry, that was insensitive."

Sesshoumaru blinked. What the Devil?

Her lips pursed, attention sliding to the iron stakes in his back. "I don't know how they managed to capture you. Surely that Priest can't have holy powers. He's about as pure as mud."

"...What are you?"

She paused, tilting her head and pushing dark hair behind her ear. "O-oh, that was rude of me, I didn't introduce myself, did I?" smiling, she straightened. "My name is Kagome Higurashi. Who are you?"

His question had been left unanswered, for he was largely uninterested in her name. He sneered, "Sesshoumaru."

"Nice to meet you, Sesshoumaru," she brought her hands together behind her back, smiling with only slight wariness. Her faded dress was slightly torn. Peasant wear. "I didn't expect you'd be able to talk."

"And I did not expect to be joined down here by a little lost lamb. Are you my dinner? They do not typically feed me." Saliva pooled in his mouth, drool pooling on the altar. His jaws parted, eyes glinting as they ran over her willowy form.

Kagome stepped away, huffing and crossing her arms. "While I sympathize, don't get rude. If you eat my soul then you really will be all alone- with no allies. You'll have eaten the only help you're going to receive in this place."

Sesshoumaru frowned as she walked out of his available sight, moving around his left side and picking up something from a shelf.

"You seek to give me aid? That seems counterintuitive for a soul as pure as yours."

He could smell it. The light radiating from within her. He knew her to be foreign from her features- and wondered how a priestess from a faraway land had arrived in such a miserable country rife with turmoil and evil; his hunting ground for the past few centuries.

She reappeared in his line of vision, holding a bowl of collected rainwater. She frowned, "I don't think 'pure' means 'doormat.' These men have caused a lot of harm. Harm should come back to them."

Red eyes cracked wider, interest lighting his red gaze. Kagome set the bowl down, resting a knee beside his jaw on the alter. "I'm trying to help you. Please don't eat me for it," with a wobbly smile, she reached for his muzzle.

Sesshoumaru held still, keen attention fixed on her every movement. Her deep blue eyes were pleasing, face quite beautiful in flickering torchlight. His dry tongue shifted within his mouth.

A Hellhound's purpose was to drag corrupted souls to the underworld. Kagome's radiated a strong, fierce glow.

The Japanese woman carefully grasped cool metal chains, pulling them off from around his face and tossing the muzzle aside.

Spittle-coated teeth immediately lunged- latching onto the coarse fabric of her modest dress, canines resting over her chest. Kagome gasped, hands grasping his jaw. Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, forcing her to lean over him slightly.

Crimson eyes glared up at her, growling lowly.

"What is your motivation, priestess?" a dark rumble growled inside her mind. "Tell me why I see black flames of revenge burning in the depths of your soul. A single blemish in your otherwise spotless self."

Kagome exhaled, and he felt her chest expand and fall with each breath. Gentle fingers ran over the silver fur on his face, cracking his eyes wider.

"The Dutch took me from my country a few years ago. Since then, I've been passed around to different places, picking up different languages. When I was forced onto a boat heading for this strange land- I didn't think anything more of it. I was to be the servant of a reputable house, but the priest of this church took issue with my foreign looks. After that, men dragged me here. You're not the only one who has suffered at their hands."

She withdrew her touch- and Sesshoumaru nearly tipped his head to chase it- unfamiliar with gentleness. Sparking holy powers then collected between her fingers, hovering close without making contact.

"I don't want to hurt you, in fact, I'd rather we were allies," the hushed words sounded genuine. "But I won't let you eat me easily either if that's what you're after. Let go."

Sesshoumaru searched her face, becoming entranced; Drunk off the sparking conviction there. What an odd, strong woman.

Letting out a breath of steam that whipped her hair back, Sesshoumaru relaxed his lower jaw, teeth unhooking from where they'd dug into the material of her clothes. He lowered her back to kneel on the altar, immediately diving for the water she'd provided instead.

Kagome caught her breath, holy powers fading away.

He lapped up every last drop, panting for more, wanting to sate the burning in his throat, but it would do for now. Sesshoumaru lifted his head, words firm with conviction as his chest rumbled.

"If you release me from my imprisonment, I will do your bidding for a time, woman. However, you should be aware of the consequences if you set me free."

She absentmindedly rubbed at the spot over her chest where his teeth had been, lips curving. "I know what'll happen to me, Hellhound," Kagome said quietly. "I accept the consequences."

Sesshoumaru bumped her leg with his nose, resting his head upon her thighs. “Then what do you command?”

"I want you to devour them," she murmured, gaze far away as she stroked mindful fingers through matted fur. "I believe in reincarnation, so I want you to prevent these terrible people from ever getting a second chance at life again. Eat them all- except the Head Priest. Him...you can drag home, to the deepest, darkest place available. Never let him be free from the shackles and iron bars you thrust inside him."

Sesshoumaru's breath shuddered. Their judgement aligned perfectly; and she'd spoken his desires aloud.

He had come across countless souls during his wrathful existence. He knew kind ones as well as those corrupted. This was one of the few times Sesshoumaru felt he'd witnessed a kind person pushed too far, beyond her breaking point. Now a deep well of dark emotion had pooled inside her, magnificent in its righteous fury.

Shifting, he dragged a hot, wet tongue up the length of Kagome's collarbone and neck, leaving a slick trail.

"Such pain...I can taste the ash on you," he purred, looking into her sad blue eyes. His voice hardened, incensed with renewed anger from her hurts and his own. "Free me, and it is gladly done."

Kagome shivered, before moving around his side. Gripping one iron bar embedded through his front leg that jutted into the alter below, she planted her knees wide.

"This is going to be a painful process, I'm sorry. W-will you survive the blood loss?"

The white demonic dog flashing her a jagged smile. "Just who do you think you are talking to?"

With a nod, Kagome steeled herself. Giving a hard yank that sent her stumbling backwards- the long, gruelling process began. Only when the agony died down would a monster with blood-red eyes emerge from the bowels of the church.

And all Hell broke loose.

-----

The church tower collapsed through the roof that fateful night. Bloodshed had begun, soaking the air with a coppery taste that quickly became dwarfed by fire. Earlier rainfall could not deter it- nothing stood in its blazing, enraged path.

White flames roared around the silver monster. He chased men down the church aisle in a frenzied hunger, catching them in his jaws. Of course, he saved the best for last.

The Head Priest trembled against a broken wall while screams pervaded the smoky air.

Sesshoumaru turned, panting. A red tongue lolled, snaking up to lick his bloodied maw.

With a yelp, the man tried to scramble away- only for his robes to be snagged on a broken beam. Heavy paws collided with his back, teeth latching into his clothes.

Within the burning depths of the church, a roaring inferno opened up. The Priest clawed and scrambled at blistering ground, cobblestone turning into scolding cinders beneath his palms. Frightened screams rang out as he was dragged backwards, Sesshoumaru descending with him down a winding, fiery path into the earth.

Everything collapsed inwards with one final groan of wood as structures toppled, the building completely caving into a burning wreck.

Kagome stood alone on a hillside, watching the entire thing unfold. She then smoothed her skirts, crouching by an unmarked, mass grave.

"I hope...you'll feel avenged now," she said softly.

She did not run nor scream. Instead, Kagome waited patiently to meet her fate, setting some flowers down.

A white dog demon covered in patches of ash approached silently. He sat beside her, neither acknowledging the violence he'd just committed.

"This is where you are buried?" he asked, gazing intently at her.

The ghost smiled wanly. "Buried makes it sound like we had a funeral. I was dumped in this hole with a few other women after we were sentenced as witches and burned at the stake. Nothing was left but my charred remains," her voice wobbled. Kagome made to wipe some tears- his sticky tongue licking them away before she could.

She gentled, touching his bloodied jaw. "H-how are your wounds?"

"All but mended," Sesshoumaru drew closer, humid breath fanning over her neck. "You know what must happen now."

Kagome laughed cynically. "Mn, because I'm a corrupt soul, you'll be dragging me to Hell too," she brushed a hand over the fur at his shoulder. Blue eyes hesitated for a moment, afraid of something entirely human.

"Will it...hurt?" she whispered.

If it were possible for a demon dog to ease his expression into something a touch less cold and hungry, Sesshoumaru managed to achieve something almost warm. He didn't answer at first, allowing a moment of silence to stretch between them. When he finally spoke again, his speech resounded inside her head as a soft grumble.

"No. Not for you."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that," a breath rushed out of her dead lungs, arms wrapping around herself as she glanced at the grave. "I've had enough pain, thank you."

"Indeed, you and I both."

A lily-white hand was offered down to her, sliding into her vision. Kagome's gaze drew up to a tall male.

The yellow moon looming behind his head gave him a halo effect; its gentle glow lining his face and dazzling her. Silvery hair split down broad shoulders, hanging like fine royal threads fit for a King. He wore black robes that billowed like dragon smoke.

Sesshoumaru's inhuman face smiled in an unnerving fashion, though she could tell the intent behind it- the desire to reassure her despite evidence of death on his robes. "Shall we go?" he asked in rich, clear tones.

Kagome stared up at the demon's handsome features. Smiling, she grasped his clawed hand without fear, allowing him to pull her up.

"You didn't have to change into such a pleasing form. I was coming with you anyway."

"My form is pleasing?" thin lips curved, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Sesshoumaru strolled with her down the hill, a gateway opening up within the earth as a huge chasm, welcoming him home.

"Oh hush, you know it is," Kagome smiled tiredly, walking with the Hellhound away from the fire and brimstone burning behind them. "So...will I be punished down there?" her voice was almost lost, spoken so softly.

Glowing eyes smiled. "There is a place some call the Elysian Fields. I will take you to them."

She stiffened, blinking rapidly to expel the salty tears of relief and gratitude welling up in her eyes. Kagome stopped within the cavern of the underworld, causing him to halt with her. Drenched under harsh shadows of the earth about to swallow them whole, his eyes shone red like glittering jewels.

"I suppose I'll need a guard too," she said evenly. "To make sure I don't escape. I'm a very wicked soul, after all. A heretic."

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth at her. "Hn, the worst kind. I will see to it personally since this one is best suited for such a difficult task."

Smiling with relief, Kagome willingly walked with him into the jaws of Hell.

End

[lately-youvebeenonmymind]

Oh, Baby - A.I.

In which sub!y/n forgets her place in the bedroom.

hey guys this is like the first smut I've ever written and the first time I've written in years soooo it’s probs shitty but I hope it’s not!! Also not me using puppy self indulgently bc no one ever uses it....... haha........

WARNINGS: face slapping, heavy degradation, not rlly petplay (maybe if u squint) but use of terms “puppy/pup,” “mutt,” and “pet” in sexual situations, fake sympathy, use of the word “daddy” in sexual situations, general dom/sub dynamics, safeword is implied beforehand in the scene (they have a safeword and the reader would use it if needed but it’s not needed here because it’s just a rough scene w heavy words and impact play pls dont come for me ik how d/s relationships work!!!), and just overall my shitty writing lol . I think that’s it lol enjoy:)

Word count: 1.7k

Ashton is always the dominate one. Both of us are firm in our roles inside and outside the bedroom, Ashton being the one to take control in everyday situations due to his more dominant personality, and me tending to be more in the background.

Ashton takes care of me, and does so very well. Most of the time I’m very content with being pampered, thrown around, and given orders during sex.

However, my mind tends to wander. Wanders to how my big, strong dom would look whining and begging beneath me.

Honestly, I can barely call myself a switch. I much prefer to be dominated. But for just a second, I’d kill to have Ashton admit that he’s just as much a bitch for me as I am for him. Just... for a little fun.

.....

“Fuck, doll, you feel so good,” Ashton moans from above me. My legs are wrapped around his waist as he pounds into me at a fast and steady pace. My eyes roll into the back of my head, my nails scratching into his chest, making him let out such a godly moan.

Sometimes, just for a second, his dominant front falters. When I leave pretty red scratches on this chest or when I tug on his hair extra hard, his face scrunches up so beautifully and I can tell he wants to ask - or beg - for more.

The idea, mixed with the image of Ashton in utter bliss above me makes me whimper, Ashton smirking at the sound.

He slows his thrusts, grabbing my face roughly in his large hands.

“On top, baby. I want to see my pretty girl bounce on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

This is my chance.

We quickly readjust ourselves so I’m straddling Ashton’s cock. The power I know I have in this position is making my pussy soaked, and I moan as soon as Ashton is back inside of me again.

Seeing him beneath me, blissed out from me clenching my walls around him, looking oh so pretty, sparks my courage to do something I’ve always wanted to.

“You know, Ashy,” I say, once again digging my nails into his chest to make faded, pretty red lines leading down to his stomach, “you look really, really pretty like this.” I trail my hands back up his chest slowly, reaching for his throat and gently squeezing, just as he does to me on most occasions. “I think I like it,” I lean down and whisper in his ear, biting on his neck when I’m done.

At first, I think it’s working. I smirk as his eyes close and he takes in deep breaths, slowing the movement of my hips to tease him more.

My victory doesn’t last long, though. Within seconds, I’m flipped back around, Ashton pounding into me angrily, one of his hands around my throat and the other making a quick slap at my face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, angel?” He growls down to me. “Did you really think you could just try and overpower me? You stupid. Fucking Mutt.”

I whine at his words, each in the last sentence being punctuated by his hips thrusting into me, the last word being accompanied by another slap to my face. The pain from being hit, choked, and roughly fucked makes me let out a loud moan, my head being thrown back from the force of his thrusts and the power of his blows.

“Oh is puppy turned on from getting hit? How fucking disgusting. You just wanted to make daddy angry, huh? You could’ve just asked to be fucked hard, baby. You know how easy it is to be daddy’s angel. But I guess dirty little pets like you can never get anything right, huh?”

I shake my head hastily at his words, my head not being able to move much due to the loosened grip he still held on my neck.

“No, sir, didn’t mean to disobey. Just thought you looked so pretty, daddy. Couldn’t help myself,” my words are broken as I speak them, barely coherent as my mind is taken over by the pleasure of being treated so mean. I love when Ashton acts like this, when he’s degrading and mean and laughs at me for being pathetic. Being kept as his little pet, so to speak, is one of my favorite things.

Ashton laughs darkly at my poor excuse for my actions and sticks one of his long fingers in my mouth, making me choke slightly as he shoves them to the back of my throat.

“Awe, baby just thought daddy looked pretty? Well why didn’t you say so, darling? Because daddy being fucking pretty completely excuses your disobedience, right? Means daddy doesn’t have to punish you?” He laughs once again at his own words. “How stupid can you be, babydoll? I’m sick of your excuses,” he says softly with a look of fake sympathy, a slight pout upon his pretty lips. His tone borders sickly sweet as speaks his cruel words to me.

“Fuck daddy, I’m sorry, so sorry,” I sob when he takes his fingers out of my mouth.

This earns another slap to my face. “I said I didn’t want to hear any more excuses, mutt. Not another word out of your mouth. I don’t want to listen to any more pathetic words you have to say. Bad pets don't get to use their words. Daddy only listens to good girls. Speaking to your master is a privilege, do you understand?”

I nod up at him with teary eyes, letting him fuck me hard until I feel my orgasm approach. I start whimpering, trying to be quiet but still alert to Ashton of my orgasm as to be granted permission.

“Fuck, doll, feel so good squeezing my cock,” he moans from above me. “Does puppy need to cum? Want daddy to let you cum, pet?” From his tone I can tell that he’s not going to allow me to cum, and the knowledge of that makes me scream in frustration, making Ashton laugh. “Awe, what a smart pup. She must know that daddy isn’t going to let her cum tonight, huh? Poor thing,” he pouts and then smirks as he pulls out of me slowly. I whine at the feeling of being empty, desperately trying to grab at Ashton as he pulls away from me completely.

“On your knees,” he commands harshly, standing next to the bed. I take my time sitting up, my legs and core aching from the way he’s been treating my body. Ashton doesn’t appreciate the time I’m taking, though, and is quick to grab my hair and pull me from the bed, shoving me down to the ground in front of him. “I said on. Your. Knees,” he growls from above me.

My knees make a sound as I hit the floor hard. Ashton’s hand is still tangled in my hair, pushing me towards his hardened cock.

I open my mouth for him to enter me, closing my eyes in bliss as I hear him groan when he hits the back of my throat. He starts to fuck my mouth, going slow despite my current punishment until I get used to the feeling of him stretching my throat. Soon, he’s thrusting into my mouth at a fast pace, causing tears to leak from my eyes and spit to drip down the corners of my mouth.

“Eyes open, princess. Look at me,” his voice is strained as he gives me the order. I look up to see his face contorted in pleasure, the muscles in his arms flexing as he holds me to his cock by my hair and his face, hair, and chest soaked from sweat. The sight causes me to moan around him, his grip in my hair tightening as his thrusts begin to come faster.

My hands go up to dig my nails in his thighs, the sight and feeling of him fucking my throat making the need to touch him stronger than ever. They were quickly swatted away, though, as Ashton starts going rougher than ever. “No fucking touching, slut. You’re still getting punished. You’ve seemed to forget your place quite a few times tonight, baby. You’re on thin fucking ice already, doll.” His voice wavers towards the end, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his release. “Don’t swallow,” he stutters out as he cums in my mouth and a little down my throat.

I try to keep as much of him in my mouth as possible as he pulls out, making sure to sit back on my heels and keep my teary eyes on him as he looks down on me.

He gently caresses my face as he bends down to get more on my level. He keeps a thumb on my bottom lip as he commands me to open my mouth. I let a mixture of his cum and my spit drip down my chin, onto his hand and down my body. His eyes grow hooded at the sight and he quickly grabs my chin in his hand to bring me in for a kiss.

“Such a messy girl, so pretty for me. You took your punishment so well tonight, lovie. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He helps me to my feet and cleans me off, giving gentle kisses to my bruised knees and sweetly petting the cheek where he hit me.

Soon, I was wrapped up in the covers and Ashton’s arms, listening to his heartbeat as I let my body rest. I feel his chest shake a bit as he laughs.

“What?” I ask sleepily.

“You thought I looked good... so you tried to dominate me? Did you have any plan or anything?” He laughs as he remembers the scene.

I blush and hide my face in his chest. “Shut up. I just... think you’re really great...” I mumble. “Wanna show you how pretty I think you are...”

He laughs once again and brings me in closer, kissing my forehead. “Thank you, baby. It means a lot. It’s cute that you tried, but it’s never happening, sweetheart. You do so much for daddy all the time. My good puppy. So good for me today.”

[smalltragedy]

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

looks away as i finally post his intro after being kinda awol fr however long. i love him a lot n hes also bri’s character mercy’s younger brother so u hv to be nice to him. think abt mercy’s life. then think abt ducky. im sry in advance tht his intro’s a little longer ive hd ducky fr like. a year or two n i’ve been playing him a While <3 as always like this if u’d like 2 plot n i’ll try 2 msg u bck bt otherwise im gna just hop right into threads bc obv i need to. change my methods.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

mbti & temperament: intp & theorist / phlegmatic.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out). 

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse. 

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts. 

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now. 

[in-tua-deep]

yooo pls give me headcanons on five being an even younger child. unless you're saving them for fics ofc!!

Actual little kid Five or from the one fic idea I have where Five ends up being even younger than 13?? Regardless, I have a lot of thoughts so I’ll do both!

under the cut bc I can already tell this is gon get long

Actual baby Five - 

I already mentioned my headcanon that as a little kid when his powers were just manifesting, his powers sort of? Acted up just a little? Like he’d get little blue sparks playing across his hands constantly but without actually jumping. And, since touching the fabric of the universe is a bit tingly, Five would just chew on his hands to make the itchy feeling go away. 

Someone suggested mittens like the ones you give kids with chicken pox and I just about died so that’s 100% being added to my headcanons as well. And Five HATES those mittens with a passion and would have yelly screaming fits about them and just bash his mittened hands against the floor in outrage. Absolutely terrible.

Five could absolutely not control his powers at first. So he would just. Jump somewhere accidentally. Sometimes it was a kind of wishful thinking type thing like “hmm if i get up on the counter i can reach the cookie jar” and BAM suddenly Five is up on the counter. Other times it was more just “guess i’m gonna fall through the fabric of the universe and end up wherever lmao” and basically what I’m getting at is he gave everyone multiple heart attacks literally all the time

Sneezes. When Five sneezes he jumps by accident. Just ACHOO and a flash of blue light and he’s gone. Bye bye bitch. It’s involuntary and a nightmare when he gets sick.

Five was that little kid who LOVED to draw. Like he would just sit for hours with a crayon clenched in his chubby little baby fist drawing scribble monsters. Of course after a Certain Incident that included drawing on the walls Reginald Hargreeves banned drawing because it’s ‘childish’ or whatever. There’s a part of me that wants to say that after everything he picks up drawing again as something to occupy his hands that isn’t obsessively working and reworking equations

I’m going to go ahead and assign my own childhood bullshit to Five because why not so I headcanon that Five as a small child would DEMAND to be read to. At all hours. I’m talking literally attempting to pry the nannies eyes open and demanding that they ‘wead to [him]’ in the middle of the night. Most of the time he didn’t even actually care about being read to he just liked hearing someone talk so he was just as content just sitting with them while they chatted to someone else tbh (how did my parents not assassinate me as a kid smh)

and now i’m even sadder about him being alone in the apocalypse thanks

Would hide when he was upset. Also very good at hide and seek. Look this is a big ass house and Five can literally teleport out of a room and out from under watchful eyes I’m saying that he must have been the most stressful child in existence to watch over holy shit but yeah when upset crawls into some small space and hunkers down until he’s less upset. Start checking the cabinets you fools. Can and WILL fit into spots you think are too small for him to fit in. If there’s a larger space behind even he shouldn’t be able to squeeze in, he can jump in so don’t discount those as hiding places as well.

Cheated at tag. Cheated at tag so much. They literally have a special version of tag called ‘five tag’ designed specifically to handicap him because even when they ban using powers he still ends up being way too fucking good at tag like holy shit

okay this isn’t even much of a Five one but as little kids before Reggie decided to go on his “Vanya sucks” crusade they would team up against one another and Klaus was caught in the middle bc he was number four. Luther, Allison, and Diego would squad up (back before Luther and Diego were at each others throats I actually headcanon they were close before powers became a thing) and declare war on Five, Ben, and Vanya and then it became a game of trying to tempt Klaus onto a certain team. Klaus usually went with Five-Ben-Vanya but there were occasions that he was 100% a turncoat. Trust me I had an odd number of siblings this would have been a thing.

honestly though these nannies were dealing with seven kids under the age of four like god damn i have so much respect for them. That nursery must have been a fucking battle zone. There are no sides there is only survival. and these kids have SUPERPOWERS. Hell is empty and all the devils are looking at them with innocent eyes like the entire room isn’t completely trashed behind them. Where’s Five, kids? Where the fuck is your teleporting brother? Six put those tentacles away so help me god you will go straight into time out, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred. NUMBER ONE if you don’t put down that cabinet RIGHT NOW - 

Now i’m thinking about the first time Reginald dealt with one of the kids having a screaming meltdown in front of him. I feel like it would have gone very badly for the kid in question :(

and now for not quite a baby!Five

Extremely salty. Furious that he’s so small. Will stab you in the knees to make you get down to his level if you dare condescend to him. Probably stands on counters or tables when talking to his siblings, but has on at least one occasion hit his limit on jumps and been unable to get down without asking for help. Decides that he lives on the kitchen counter now because fuck that noise

Would rather die than be carried anywhere but if he’s the one to climb on someone then it’s okay. Prefers sitting on shoulders because a) taller, and b) they don’t have to hold him up and he can pretend that it’s entirely his decision

A sleepy bitch. Overuses his powers frequently getting to places he can’t easily reach anymore. Sleepy and grumpy. Doesn’t give two shits where he falls asleep and will sleep sprawled out across the floor, had been stepped on or had someone trip over him before and yet still refuses to stop. Honestly it’s a bit of a roulette whether he’ll wake up if they try to put him somewhere else, with just as much danger implied. Klaus produces traffic cones from god knows where and gleefully surrounds Five when he finds in which… is as good a solution as any tbh

His powers are still like,, almost on the fritz? Like when he was a little kid he couldn’t control them. He can now, but also they glitch out occasionally and his hands are all itchy again because they keep pushing at the boundary of the universe without him even thinking about it and it’s the most irritating thing in the world

His pain tolerance is back to being shit which he doesn’t appreciate. However everyone else freaks out way more than him when he accidentally slices his hand open trying to steal one of Diego’s knives, which was pretty funny

Claire comes over and immediately teams up with Five. No one saw it coming and everyone regrets it except for the tiny duo.

She asks him why he’s a kid if he’s her Uncle Five and he gives her the whole story about him growing old in the apocalypse and coming back etc. etc. and that he’s actually a grown up and he doesn’t think she’s going to understand but Claire just says “Oh, like Narnia?” and Five is like “EXACTLY LIKE NARNIA” and she is automatically his favorite

Claire literally tells Five point blank that he’s wasting his potential. How does Five not know all the tricks to being a brat and getting what you want? Puppy dog eyes first and progress into tantrums my friend. Look, Claire is Allison’s daughter and Allison was manipulative as fuck as a child and Claire has inherited at least some of that

Five’s eyes are fucking OPENED and everyone wishes they would be closed again. Five’s puppy eyes are surprisingly and devastatingly effective, especially when he tears up and lets his little lip wobble. Claire is so fucking proud of her protege

Claire rules the house with her tiny iron fist and Five readily follows her lead. Look, he never wanted to be the leader okay he was content to leave that to Luther and he’s equally happy now to leave it to Claire

The first time Patrick came to pick Claire up Five kicked him in the shins and ran off and Patrick was just very very confused about why Allison’s nephew (cover story, Klaus probably gets to pretend to be his dad again or something) has decided to hate him

Five still hides when he’s upset and now he’s tiny literally no one can find him. The first time it happens everyone freaks out and searches the entire house and after a few hours Grace just pops off and retrieves a now sleeping Five from like, the top shelf in the linen closet or something idk

On at least one occasion has had to be stopped from eating some kind of insect or spider off the floor. It’s like owning a cat or something. For the most part they hate it but one of them (Klaus) has 100% pointed out one to Five like “GET IT” but honestly this could be a headcanon for any age Five

[hariboowrites]

IW coda (2/2)

PART 1

SUMMARY: THOR AND JANE FOCUSED CODA TO IW bc i am who i am

She pops out on the ashes of a battlefield and realises her mistake.

“Halt!” She hears and wince. No, now she realises her mistake.

“Fuck,” Jane mutters, spinning in place, her hands up, as she comes face to face with Wakandan soldiers. They’re all pointing their spears at her and Jane yelps. “Sorry! I’m human! I’m— I’m Dr. Jane Foster. Your princess invited me here?”

The soldiers raise their eyebrows, unbelieving, and Jane can’t fault them. She only met Princess Shuri once at one of Jane’s lectures in Brussels not long after Wakanda opened itself to the world. She had handed Jane a very cool touch screen business card that Jane had tried to reverse engineer for about a month. She hadn’t manage.

I should have called first, Jane thinks, but the words that come out of her mouth are: “I have this!” And she digs into one of her jacket pockets and pulls out the card in question. Swiping her fingers across the screen, an image emerges from it with Princess Shuri’s face.

“Dr. Foster, I’d love to speak more with you about your Foster Theory. Please feel free to get in contact with me when your schedule allows. The details will be on the card. Bye!”

They look at each other, sigh, and lowered their spears.

Jane grins.

And this is why she never empties her pockets, Darcy.

-

In front of them the remaining ruling body of Wakanda are holding court with Rogers and Colonel Rhodes. Rhodes has just taken a call with Queen Regent Romanda and the remaining world council. Less than half of them remain; General Ross is gone. Thor watched as Bruce twisted his fingers together and mouthed a name. His hands fisted on his trousers. Natasha’s eyes flicked towards him. The name had not been Natasha’s. Thor knows little about what was happening between them as when he was last on Midgard he had been splitting his time between New York and where Jane was.

Jane…

Her memory burns deeply in him. Her home based had moved from London to Edinburgh not long after Convergence, but institutions around the world were constantly calling her to work with them. It had been an interesting way to see the world. The thought brings a sharp ache in his heart. When he left they had been on tense but good terms despite what he implied to Loki, but he lost Jane too. Maybe more fully than he ever allowed himself to think. She could be gone now, like half the world, like half the universe, and every time he let his thoughts stray that way, he has to stop himself.

As Her Majesty and Rhodes continue their meeting with various world leaders, Queen Romanda offers Wakanda’s assistance. Her son was King until an hour ago, as he’s come to understand, and now she stands, straight backed, eyes wise, and heart most certainly broken. Thor tries not think of his mother, tries not think of how she looked after Loki’s first death. He thinks about he’s selfishly glad she did not have to live through his following two and Father’s. Or how she would have felt about Hela’s return. He can’t think on that, not now, not when Thanos lives and half the universe is gone. M’baku stands next to the Queen as she and Rhodes coordinate to bring Midgard back into balance. Families are gone, friends are gone, but so are many world leader and their governing bodies. In the aftermath, shock will reign, but once things settle down… good people have remained, but so have greedy and cruel people. Thanos did not better the universe, he only created instability in an already finely balanced scale. He did not understand. Thor only understands now as he watches the ashes fall.

Soon, he leaves the meeting room with Rogers, Romanoff, Banner, Rocket, Princess Shuri, and her guard. They follow the Princess, her eyes still red rimmed and pulling at Thor’s heartstrings, to her lab.  Rocket clambers up Thor’s cape and settles quiet on his shoulder. Thor allows him. No father should lose his son. Once they reach the lab, he jumps down and curls up by a window. The Wakandans look at the talking racoon with wide eyes, but easy acceptance. The world they lived in now was not one were you could dismissed an ally, strange, small, and angry as they might be.

Rogers and Romanoff stand near each other. Okoye does not move more than five feet from the princess’ side. Banner hovers and paces across the room. At one point Natasha’s phone beeped and she looked down to it before moving to talk to Okoye about something.

So even now, in a room with allies and friends, Thor feels so completely alone. Useless in a way he never has before. Strombreaker pulses differently in his hand than Mljonir did. It harnesses his power differently, requires more from him. He guesses it’s a good thing that in the last fortnight his powers have been raging high within him.

Speaking off, he feels them now. Bubbling under his fingertips. He clenches his hand, fingernails biting into his skin. Thinking of home and Loki and Jane has not done any good to his temperament. He tries to think of Krog and Valkyrie and the remaining Asgardians who made it off the ship. He hopes they’ve found safe harbour. He hopes that with Asgard already gone, it’s population already halved by Thanos, the universe was kind to them and spared them all. Asgard indeed lives in the heart of its people, but if there are no people to keep its beat alive the Asgard is truly gone. The thought makes him hate Thanos more than he thought possible, it makes him hate Hela who if not for all the secrets in his family he may have loved. Something dark and bitter in him thinks they would have been well suited to each other. Goddess of Death and the warlord who courted it.

“Thor? Thor?”

Snapping back to the present, Thor turns. Rogers looks at him with kind, understanding eyes. Thor straightens. The captain’s empathy always shines clear in this eyes.  “I am sorry, my mind drifted away from me.”

He nods, “It’s okay. We were just wondering… can you get us to Thanos?”

Thor considers this. He lifts Strombreaker. “I do not have Heimdall’s power of Sight across the universe. I cannot find someone who is where I don’t know, but I can get us off planet should we need to.”

Banner makes his turn around the room. “We have to find Tony too… I mean, if he’s—“

“We’ll find him,” Rogers says. Thor wishes he could sound as confident as him. Everything in him is struggling to keep it together. “And then we’ll find Thanos—“ The name sparks new anger in him, his fingers light up.

Everyone looks at him. Rocket lifts his head for the first time in a while. “You okay, big guy?”

Thor nods. He is not, but he has to be.

He has to be.

“You sure—“

His fingers spark.

Natasha gets cut off as a pair of guards enter the room.

“Okoye, Princess, there is a woman who—“

“Thor!”

Jane’s voice rings out and everything inside him stops. His focus narrows on her and her face as she turns the corner. She pushes past the guards that were flanking her and rushes across the room to him. He notes they go and stop her, and tenses, ready to intervene, but Okoye catches their eye and nods at them. They stand down.

It’s the most natural thing in the world to catch her in his arms and wrap his arms around her. His power immediately settles back into his skin at the feel of her weight under his hands. Jane’s arms are tight around his neck and he clutches her, her feet skimming off the ground. If she feels the remainder of the sparks in his fingers she says nothing; she’s familiar with the edges of his power anyway. He can feel the whisper of his name against his neck. How her body relaxes into his, her relief physical. His own body echoes it. The tightness in chest diminishes slightly. He buries his face in her hair for a second before pulling back to look into her eyes.

They are familiar and shining. He lifts one hand from her waist to wipe at the corner of her eyes.

“Jane,” he says. The first word in days that does not bring him pain.

Her fingers smooth through his hair. She closes her eyes for a beat. “You’re okay, you’re okay....” she mutters and looks into his eyes. “Your hair...” her eyes narrow and she touches his right eye and he knows she sees the difference in their colour. “Your...” He shakes his head. Not here, but now. She gives him a familiar sigh as her fingers skim his jaw. They’ll be talking about it later.

Jane leans back, her touch soft. He wants to lean into it further. He loosens his hold enough to let her touch the ground despite that everything in him wants to pull her in closer.

“Thor, what happened?” she asks, voice steady, but scared. “I was in Cape Town on the phone with Darcy when she... then other people around me— My mom didn’t answer the phone. Neither did Sif.” And while that surprises Thor, but there’s no time to dwell on his friend and the flash of pain in his heart when he remembers Heimdall’s sacrifice. “What happened?” Her voice breaks. “What happened?”

Thor hates he’s the one that has to tell her he failed, but she deserves to hear it from him.

“Thanos got the stones. We— I was too late,” he says. The name creating a new spark of pain in him. Jane looks at him and grabs his hand. She squeezes his fingers and slips them between her own. Thor grips her like a lifeline. He is surprised at how much her touch settles him still.

“It wasn’t your fault, Thor,” Rogers cuts in, reminding Thor they are not alone. Jane turns to face him. Steve smiles at her. “Hi, Jane.”

Thor takes a deep breath. Rogers is wrong, but it’s not the time for that. “Let us all talk,” he says instead.

Jane nods, shifting to stand at his side, as she looks across the room. As soon as she see Shuri, she blushes.

“I’m so sorry, Princess. I used this to get your guards to let me in,” and she pulls out a very small electronic card.

Princess Shuri smiles. “It’s alright, Dr. Foster. It is why I gave it to you. Though I thought you would call first, but under the circumstances I understand why you didn’t.”

Jane shrugs . “Yeah, sorry. It was rude, I know.” She turns to their friends. “Hi, guys.”

“I just got your message,” Romanoff says with a small smile. “A little more warning would have been nice. How did you get here so fast?”

“I’ll explain in a second. Hey, Bruce.” She reaches out to Banner, who steps up and gives her a slightly awkward hug since she’s still holding Thor’s hand. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Banner grins; his first since Thor landed on Earth. “Hi, Jane. It’s good to see you, too.”

She snorts. “Understatement of the year. Catch me up?” She steps forward, tugging on Thor’s hand as she moves. Thor walks towards Princess Shuri with her. He doesn’t want to let go of her hand and thankfully Jane is not forcing the matter. As they fill Jane in on what’s happened in the last few days across the universe, Thor and Banner add in what happened on Sakaar and Asgard. Jane starts when he skims over what happened to Asgard and Heimdall and even Loki. She meets his eyes and while she says nothing he can see how her entire body sags, how her eyes mist, and she chokes back a sob at what she sees in his gaze. Her grip on his hand tightens and she presses her forehead to his bicep. He feels her lips brush his skin in silent comfort. They have too much to talk about. Banner, a good friend, better than Thor had thought a week ago, covers for them and quickly starts to explain what he knows of Stark, trapped somewhere in space. It gives Thor time to regroup before he adds in the facts of his journey these last few days. Rocket adds his own colourful commentary as Thor explains the creation of his axe. Jane to her credit only blinks at the talking raccoon.

“And is Eitri alright? Is Nidavellir still working?” she asks. He had almost forgotten he had taken there once to meet Eitri. How she had studied Nidavellir, how she wore a piece forged from there on her person, still. He can feel it against his palm.

Thor nods, catching the glint in Jane’s eye. “He does. Do you need his help?”

Jane hums. “Maybe later…” she says, pulling her bag closer to her. She turns to Rogers and Rhodes, who came into the room as they explained the situation to Jane, “So first thing first. You guys wanna find Tony, I mean, if he’s still—“

“Thor can get us into space,” starts Rogers. “His ham—his axe brought him here, didn’t it?”

“It did,” he affirms, quietly enjoying how Jane’s eyes light up at the fact. That she is still here, that her eyes still brighten at the science of Asgard, that her mind still looks for answers to reach the stars allows him to feel normal for the first time in days.

Turning to Rogers, he explains just how calling the Bifrost with his axe works. “But only if I know the location. It’s why I could get here. I do not have Heimdall’s power to look through the stars and locate a person in a place unknown. I require previous knowledge of the location. I cannot just call the Bifrost across the universe if I don’t know where I’m going even if I know who I’m looking for. Once I get closer to a location I can guide it better, but first I need to know the place I’m aiming for. But Jane, you can, can you not?”

Jane looks at him and bites her lip. The warm flare of affection and attraction at that familiar gesture makes Thor grin. He knows that look well. She can. He could kiss her. It surprises him how much he wants to right now.

“Not yet,” she says. Reaching in her pocket she pulls out a small device. “Tony helped me with some of the nanotech and the arc reactor, and I can now make the portals I used during Convergence to get around the planet. I didn’t want anyone to know I had the technology yet, it’s still mostly untested, and not as stable as I want it to be.” She swallows, her eyes flicking away from him. “I still get some vertigo if I go across the planet, but that’s what I was hoping Princess Shuri would help me with,” she says, turning to the princess. “Except now I think we might need to try to get a bit further than North America?”

At her words, Princess Shuri grins, her eyes (still a bit puffy form her earlier tears) crinkle from her smile. “Oh yes,” she moves across the room and holds her hands out for Jane’s device. Jane hands it over easily. “I think I can definitely help with that, Dr. Foster!” She pops the device under a Wakandan scanner and starts moving around her lab. Okoye gives a grateful look at Jane as she looks over her charge. Banner moves closer and eagerly listens to the princess explain Jane’s device and her idea to help boost Jane’s portals to span the universe. Rogers and Natasha walk over to Okoye and Thor knows they’re about to beginning planning what they’ll do next once the princess and Jane get the device to work. Thor knows he should go over to them, and he will, soon, but right now Jane is still by his side. She’s standing next him, her hand still in his, her eyes on the princess and her device, and soul intact.

Thor will move. He will plan with his friends, he will avenge his brother and the universe. They will fix this somehow, but for now, for this moment, Jane is here. He thinks about he told Rocket on the way to Nidavellir. What more do I have to lose? Glancing at Jane, he realises is not willing to find out. He did not know what he had still, but now he does.

She must feel him looking at her and glances up at him. “Hey, you okay?”

He nods, and it feels true. “Better now that you’re here.” He lifts their joined hands and kisses her fingers.

She laughs, reaching up to cup his jaw and raises herself up on her tiptoes. Her lips brush against his cheek. “Same, you know. I didn’t think I’d— I’m… I feel better when you’re around.” Grabbing her bag, she nods her head toward the corner of her lab. “By the way, I have something else to tell you. I might have gone to Norway a month ago when I saw some Bifrost readings there.”

Thor lifts his brow, curious. Jane hands the bag to him and he pauses at the weight in it. He looks at her and realises she’s been holding it with easy for some time. Her eyes meet him and she grins.

“Surprise,” she says, eyes bright and Thor feels hope again.

[athyriiium]

Okay, I’m back at it again with another long ass, symbolism heavy theory. I would heavily suggest reading my other theory here before you read this one since I will be referencing that one often in this. There’s a tl;dr at the bottom fyi!

To begin, the symbolism and art shown in Blood, Sweat, and Tears (BST) is very religion heavy. It is to be expected when pulling from work from the 17-18th centuries. I’ve seen some people theorize that Jin is the one behind all the “evil” the boys have done in RUN and I Need U (INU). I agree with this, though I don’t think he is necessarily evil, but more of a tempter.

In my previous theory, I discussed how I believed Jin to be Sinclair and Tae to be Demian, acting as a force to influence Sinclair as a mentor. I still believe that to be true. Each boy has his own storyline that is tied back to Jin, including Tae, but it’s a little confusing.

Let me backtrack: When Jin kisses the statue like Sinclair kisses Demian, they become one. Sinclair talks about not being able to see Demian anymore and realizes Demian was just a part of himself. So the metaphorical Tae that I spoke about previously is a part of Jin. Jin has realized himself fully and has accepted both the light and darkness in his life.

I also heavily discussed the concept of duality in my last post. There is the “other world” as Sinclair often mentions it which is the darker side of the world, which also means there is a light side of the world. This is a limited, binary viewpoint though. And the Spring Day mv told us there is more to the world than that through the usage of “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” (short story) and “Snowpiercer” (film). Both stories show there are sides of gray in life. In the Omelas story, everyone is happy enjoying life at the expense of a miserable child. The knowledge of the child gets out and there are people who live that can’t live a life of blind happiness at the expense of others. BTS are the ones who walk away from the feeling of blindness and absolute happiness.

Snowpiercer is a film that depicts an apocalyptic world in which the last surviving humans live on a train. It is best known for its blatant ridicule of the class system but also depicts two sides of life. The tail end or back end of the train is where the poor are, living in oppressed squalor while the head of the train lives in complete luxury. But, both ends of the train are blind to the truth. They accept the train as the world, it’s safety and warmth. The middle of the train is the only place with windows where you can see out of the train. The middle of the train people, or middle class, are the ones who are educated with propaganda instructing them that the train is the world. BTS are those of the middle class, but also the two middle-class people who eventually escape the train. They sit and accept the truth that they are told until they see the colors of gray, or the world around them, and eventually leave the train.

Now you might be asking what about the two Jungkooks? That’s where the concept of duality comes in. the train JK sees the Omelas JK and that’s the spark to leave. Train JK is the passive one who accepts the truth, while Omelas JK is the boy who defies what is given to him. This is the spark to leave the train and explore the outside world. But I digress. Let me get back to the JPN BST mv.

The concept of this passive vs active duality is also seen in Jin especially in the newest JPN BST mv. Jin has been seen very passive around the boys, never really joining in on the fun just standing on the sidelines and filming. There is plenty of evidence out there, but if you want specifics let me know.

The Jin in the JPN BST mv, is not like that at all. He seems to play an active, almost antagonistic role. So, as I said there is lots of religious symbolism in the BST mvs and to explain what I think happens in the JPN ver I have to use some material from the KOR ver.

So I believe Jin is the tempter, acting as the snake (and depending on who you talk to, indirectly the Devil) in the story of Adam and Eve. After going back to watch the KOR BST it makes more sense since Jin was shown while Namjoon quoted the Demian line about Demian being a tempter. This may seem far-fetched but hear me out.

Jimin, who was seated on Jin’s left in the KOR ver BST table scene, is often showed with apples. It is seen in the JPN BST, KOR BST, and Jimin’s short film. Apples, in the biblical sense, are tied to Adam and Eve. To briefly recap the story, Adam and Eve were the first humans created. They were allowed to eat, use, and generally do anything in the Garden of Eden except eat from the Tree of Knowledge. A serpent tempts and eventually convinces her to do so to “open her eyes” to be like “God, knowing all good and evil”. After she eats the fruit, she shares with Adam and both are condemned by God and sent out of the Garden of Eden.

I didn’t put this together until seeing Jimin finally eat the apple in the JPN BST. He’s just been holding it or looking at it up until now like he was tempted. Jimin, also being on Jin’s left, is important. The left side in many people who believe in the bible is associated with Satan/the Devil. I’m not saying Jin is the devil. Some people believe the snake was Satan in disguise, but I think it’s more of a vector of temptation sent to taint God’s creations. But this isn’t the time for bible debate.

It also fits because the serpent implies that Eve’s eyes have been closed. Jimin is also often seen with a blindfold or having his vision blocked, by a certain someone (Yoongi). I thought previously that Jimin was turning a blind eye to something, ignoring something that was causing him pain, and I do still believe that, but I also think it has another meaning. If the serpent convinced Eve that she was blind, that she couldn’t see everything, then wouldn’t she think of herself as blindfolded? Then wouldn’t the one blindfolding her, be God? Just as I am not saying Jin is the Devil, I don’t think Yoongi is God. He is symbolic of him. Yoongi serves as a protection/barricade between Jimin and Jin. He doesn’t want Jimin to follow Jin into darkness. That’s why we see two Jimin’s. The one Yoongi protects, and the one that follows Jin into darkness.

So if Yoongi is symbolic of God, how come he fights Kookie in RUN? Many times in the bible, God is shown, for lack of a better term, a practitioner of tough love. See Noah’s ark for example, where floods come and kill many people and animals except for the one’s on Noah’s ark besides the people had lost the way of God. The people killed were the descendants of Adam and Eve, who I believe are the other boys since Jimin and Tae were the first tempted.

So if Jimin is symbolic of Eve, Yoongi of God, and Jin of the Devil, then who is Adam? At first, I thought it was Hobi since he is OFTEN seen with Jimin, but I have Hobi has something else going on I will get to soon. So that lead me to Tae. We see Tae struggling with temptation/sin often. The act of graffiti and an insane amount of suicide imagery associated with him in HYYH is too overwhelming.

Tae sits on the right of Jin in the KOR BST mv. If the left is associated with evil, then the right is associated with good. Tae was “good” which is why there is so much angelic symbolism near him. But, he was tempted, probably by Jimin since he is symbolic of Eve and Eve is the one who gives Adam the fruit to eat.

Jin, could also have been the one to tempt Tae and the other boys since in the KOR BST all the boys are shown around a table with no real food besides apples in front of them. So, Tae and Jimin are the first ones tempted.

Now, when Adam and eve were cast out of the Garden of Eden, they could no longer understand the word of God, since they were no longer his children. So this leads me to believe that nothing heavenly could help either of them. Which is where Hobi and Namjoon come in.

I’ll start with Namjoon, since his story is somewhat laid out already. Many times Namjoon is shown running to a telephone booth and many people assume it’s because Tae is calling based off evidence from Namjoon and Tae’s films. But, Namjoon is never able to reach the phone or get into the booth. So, since Namjoon isn’t tempted YET, he is still considered heavenly, therefore, he can never help Tae.

Namjoon is eventually tempted and falls into alcohol, specifically absinthe. Absinthe is portrayed as an addictive, alcoholic hallucinogen. So he becomes addicted to drinking the beverage and eventually forces Jungkook to drink it (seen in the JPN BST mv). But, I don’t think Namjoon falls as deeply into temptation as Tae does. He learns to accept it. Namjoon is shown around a lot of mirrors either obscuring his reflection (JPN INU) or shattering the glass (Reflection). But, in JPN BST he is shown looking directly into his reflection. He’s learned to accept temptation as a part of himself. Reflections are often symbolic of showing one's true self which is why we say Jin’s reflection crack in KOR BST bc he hasn’t accepted his whole self (passive and active).

Before I get to Hobi, I’m going to finish Jungkook’s story. Before, I wasn’t sure where Kookie sat in the Demian/Sinclair story. I believed he was “Beatrice” but since he is often on the outskirts dipping his toes in good and evil I think he is symbolic of Abraxus. We don’t know who convinced the boys to leave Omelas, but from what I discussed earlier, it was most likely Kookie who convinced the boys to leave the train in Spring Day. He also tries to help Yoongi in RUN, who is struggling with his own problems. This is the good Kookie dabbles in. The bad is all the new stuff we saw in the JPN BST mv: the hallucinations and fighting off Yoongi who is trying to help him. Also, depending on what theory you believe, the shooting of the other boys in Not Today.

Now last but not least, Hobi. I think Hobi was once tempted, proven by the abuse of pills. But rather than accept temptation, he rejects it and fights it. This is seen by the throwing away of his pills, twice now. We also often see Hobi pulling a bow and arrow and now a dart on those tempted, usually Tae. Now, I believe Tae has fallen deepest into temptation and Hobi mourns the loss of his friends' purity, shown by the Pieta in KOR BST. He takes on the biggest challenge first, Tae. Which is why we see him throwing or going to throw the dart at Tae in JPN BST and pull the bow at Tae in KOR BST. Hobi is the descendant that God spoke of when cursing the serpent. God said that Eve’s descendant will bruise his foot by smashing the head of the snake. Basically, he will have to sacrifice something to get rid of the tempting serpent.

Hobi is also shown dancing under the fresco painted on St. Nicholas’ ceiling painted by Guilio Quaglio. I can't find a lot of info on the painting but it looks like a depiction of a world of light or heaven? So it looks like Hobi is reaching for salvation, but he isn’t the only one. Jimin is too.

Jimin, aka Eve, has realized what he has done wrong and has suffered for it. She lost her son Abel at the hands of her son Cain and was placed with pain after she was cast out of the Garden of Eden. This is why we see Jimin suffering/being uncomfortable so much while in water. Water is symbolic of purification, so Jimin is repenting for his wrongdoings but is also suffering because of the temptation he gave into.

We also see Jin circa INU era twice in this mv. Once in the bed of the truck, lying similarly to how he is lying in the bed in INU. In INU lilies are very present. They are also present in BST. Lilies symbolize innocence after death. Passive Jin wants to be innocent after he dies but is prevented from that because of tempter!Jin. This is why the lily petals are burned; all hope of innocence after death is gone. I believe both Jin’s are aware of each other having met in the Awake film, but since tempter Jin is the stronger personality, he has prevented watcher Jin from moving on. Which is why he is still interacting with the boys in the INU era but only passively.

The scene at the end of the mv is one of the first setups to Jin’s temptation of Namjoon. We see the effects in the INU era.

TL;DR: as seen in INU there are two sides to youth: the dark and light. This is further expressed in RUN and BST (both versions). Each boy has a doppelganger, opposite from what they are typically shown to be. Jin’s doppelganger, the tempter, has tempted the boys to do things they shouldn’t seen in RUN and INU. Hobi, the savior, is trying to fight Jin’s hold on the boys.

[lokissceptres]

Ok here it is! Sorry it took so long and this has alt endings bc I’m not sure if you wanted smut or not and sorry if its not what you expected, I’d be more than happy to write another one if you aren’t satisfied but you’d have to be more specific - apologies to everyone for dropping off the face of the earth, I had a 3 day long hiking expedition and I’ve been in a lot of pain ever since >_< @alpharra

——

Tricks

Pairing: Loki x Fem!reader

Summary: Loki is prejudiced towards witches and the reader wants to know why

Warnings: Alternative endings, implied smut, fluff, domination, angsty

Notes: The whole doctor strange thing doesn’t happen here

-

“I can't see into the future I’m not a witch” Loki hissed at his brother.

“Then why do you dress like one” Thor bit back. Loki looked at his black suit before realising that he did indeed dress like a witch. The only response he could muster was a pathetic ‘Hey’

From across the street, a sharp pair of eyes watched the two brothers, her inherited hyper-senses allowing her to eavesdrop on the unsuspecting party. She frowned upon hearing the pitiful tone Loki used when talking about witches. He of all should know the worth of witches since his own mother was raised by them. In fact, she was his mother's friends daughter. Not that Loki nor Frigga knew this since her mother and herself had fled Asgard almost immediately after she was born.

She was brought back to reality when the burst of lightning caught her eye and Thor had left, leaving the two girls that he and Loki had just taken a picture with to squeal in excitement. She saw Loki roll his eyes again, she wondered that if he did that again, would he get stuck like that forever?

This witch had been watching Loki for a very long time. He acted like a witch although he claimed to be a sorcerer, hell his magic was even witches magic. One could assume that it was curiosity that had piped her interest, but only she and few others knew the real cause of attraction.

“Why are you watching me, witch” she heard Loki sneer from behind her. Turning around sharply she noticed that he was unusually close to her, she pretending to act surprised although of course, she knew that this would happen.

“Because you’re going to die,” she said in the most monotone voice she could muster. Loki had no reaction to this.

“Witch, surely you know that I am a God and with that burden comes the greater burden of immortality” 

“Yes, and you could perhaps assume I am an Oracle and that I share a similar burden”

Loki chuckled and rolled his eyes again.

“Do that again and they’ll get stuck” motioning her hand to teleport her out of the street and to Loki’s next destination, she took a step forward and smiled dauntingly at the witch in disguise.

Loki scoffed and grabbed her wrist before the coloured sparks could completely envelop her. 

“I already know my fate, witch, and going to my next destination to stalk me will do nothing to save nor punish me.” Pulling the girl towards him and securing both of her wrists in his hand, he used his other hand to teleport them to a more isolated place.  

“You and I both know what’s going to happen” he smirked, his form eluding rigour and dominance, “after all we were both raised by witches”

“Then why do you act like you weren't?”

“It’s easier that way” he mumbled. Mimicking the powerful tone that he used so often you held your arms out, again mimicking the dominance that he usually had.

“Prove to me,” she said rather intimidatingly, “that you are worthy of your gifts”

(Third-person -> second person switch)

Now, dear witch” Loki said, walking towards your outstretched arms slowly, “there are many ways in which this can end”, you did nothing but watch the way he stalked towards you, it was almost predatory. His head tilted ever so slightly that almost made you question who really had the upper hand here. 

He stopped in front of you as if breathing you in for a minute before forcing your hands down with his own magic, while also rendering you powerless. He placed his hands on your waist, leaning ever so closely to you face.

“It all depends on what you want”

The animalistic greed in his eyes told you what he really wanted.

“You must prove yourself first,” you said, breaking out of his magic and forcing him backward with your powers.

“My mother’s powers go unmatched, and I am her equal” he stated, retaliating by forcing you against the wall, sending some discarded metal to keep your arms in place as he spoke. “You want me to prove myself?” he continued almost hysterically.

“I would have to kill you” he snarled.

“You think your mother was the only one of her kind.” you scoffed, “did your mother not tell you of her upbringing?” The metal tightened on your wrists as Loki allowed you to continue.

“My mother and she were inseparable, they were equals. You and I may be equals too, it all depends on if you prove it, Loki.”

Loki stood still for a moment, you thought that he might let you go and surrender, but when his eyes snapped to yours again they were incomprehensible. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill you or consume you. 

Within an instant you were on the floor, your wrists bleeding from the grip the metal had on you. Loki shot at you, sending you leering back. You retaliated.

It went on like this, blow after blow, neither one of you seemed to be winning nor losing. Like you had assumed you were equal, just as you seemed to be getting the upper hand Loki snapped, using all of his force to press you against the floor.

He loomed over you, hands behind his back. You were so exhausted from the constant firing that you simply didn't have enough stamina to try and escape his grip, not when he was using the majority of his force to keep you down.

“Surrender to me” his eyes pleading you to surrender, he could kill you if he wanted, and if you didn’t he might have to. You were a very resilient soul and he almost liked that about you.

“Surrender to me and I will free you”

Fluff ending:

Assessing your situation you agreed. You gave into the prince. You knew if you didn’t he really would kill you. Of all the possibilities in this future, you knew this was the best choice for you. Loki let out a brief sigh of relief when you surrendered.

“Come” he said, releasing his magic and helping you up, “I will heal you on Asgard” 

You were confused at his kind words.

“Why are you so nice to me, a witch” you paused as he turned to look at you, “I thought you hated witches”

“Is that why you did it?”

“I wanted to know”

“If you must know, it’s not that I hate witches...” he paused, turning around again, hands by his side as if he had given up on poising himself.

“I am ashamed”

He had said it so briefly you almost hadn’t heard it, you didn’t have time to ask him again because within an instant a rainbow of light was enveloping you, summoning you to Asgard.

You would see him again. That you knew.

Implied Smut ending:

“Freedom? That’s all?” You asked almost suggestively. Loki helped you up, knowing that was your way of accepting his offer.

“Why? Were you expecting more my witch?” He chuckled. You scowled at the name.

“’My witch’” You mimicked, “Since when was I your witch”

Instead of receiving a response, Loki turned around briskly and forced you against the wall again, as he had done at the beginning. You opened your mouth to oppose his actions before you saw that darkened look in his eyes. Green sparks enveloped him and he appeared incredibly close to you. He titled your head up using his fingers, allowing you to taste the need that he was radiating.

“Since now” he declared, ultimately answering your question. Green sparks enveloped both of you this time and when you opened your eyes you were in his earthen room. “And since you’re my witch, you’re not leaving” he whispered in your ear, his hands beginning to wander beneath your clothes.

Noticing the bed behind the both of you, you pushed him forcefully onto it, taking him entirely by surprise.

“And I have no intention of leaving either”

Hey, sorry to bother. But I just wanted to request a loki x reader where the reader is one of those witches that can see into the future that was mentioned in Ragnorok. But you dont have to. Many thanks!

I’d be more than happy to do this request! It’s just that I’m not sure what witches you’re talking about... Could you possible explain so I can write the fic ;) If you don’t know I could just do a witch that can see the future @alpharra