#The Old Gods and the New

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 3

Infinitely More | Loki x Reader

Loki makes his first contact with you, much to the Avengers disappointment, there's a natural connection between you both. Maybe Loki can help answer some of your questions.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Avengers being rude, Loki being himself, thigh riding/masturbating.

Credits: divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

Loki used his magic to hide among the shadows and return to the guest room unseen.

Lying on the large bed in the guest suite that the Avengers had provided for him, Loki whiled away a few hours contemplating the cocktail of magic that had shimmered around the mysterious woman in the hospital room, dipping into his own knowledge and scratching down some ideas for further reading, if he could be permitted access to some of Asgard’s now limited libraries. He allowed the image of you arching from the bed to permeate into his subconscious. In response his body felt taut, ready, and he imagined how you’d feel arching into his touch like that. 

A sharp, familiar, knock broke him from his thoughts, followed by a boisterous voice. 

“Brother? They want you there when they try to speak to her again,” Thor thundered through the door, his enthusiasm at having his brother with him overwhelming. Loki had agreed only because he was so bored and Thor had seemed to keen to show of Midgard as Loki’s own personal tour guide. 

Loki rolled his eyes, the pen and notepad he’d been using to jot down ideas, vanished back into the air, and he prepared to follow Thor back through the compound and into the secret room next to yours. 

After surveying the array of heroes in front of him, he settled against the back wall, trying to look dispassionate as you examined a strand of your hair in the two way mirror, watching as it got changed beneath your fingers. You behaved as if there was no one else watching, with an air of resigned melancholy mingled with curiosity. 

“I’ll go and talk to her,” Tony said, “see if she’ll tell us anything we, or you,” he pointed at Loki “can use.”

A soft whooshing sound accompanied Tony’s exit from the room as the sealed door slid open and then closed behind him.

As soon as the door had closed, you backed away from the mirror, your hands out behind you to feel your way towards the hospital bed. Bruce fiddled with a few dials in front of him, turning the comms down so only those at the front of the room could hear, deliberately tuning Loki out. The god could’ve heard if he wanted to, but he preferred to look down at his nails dispassionately. 

It didn’t look good even from where Loki was standing, nor did he require audio to know that you were furious. In fact, you looked both frightened and angry, as you pointed at the door while Tony stood stoic and shaking his head. After a few more minutes of silent arguing Tony appeared through the sealed door again, frustrated and defeated. 

“I can still feel it, she’s controlling the air in there, it was so unbearably hot. Bruce what happened?” He groused, bumping his friend out of the way with his hip so they could look at the control panel together. 

Bruce confirmed all the controls and vitals were normal inside of the room, but Tony’s heart rate had been elevated the entire time, his dopamine and oxytocin skyrocketing and then crashing, full of adrenaline.

“I’ll try next,” Steve offered, but Loki cut him off, raising his hand to silence the soldier’s presumably brave attempt at protecting his friends. 

“I don’t think so. Let me,” Loki insisted, ignoring the indignant look of the Captain’s face. 

“That’s not a good idea, whatever her magic is, it’s is very powerful.” 

“I would be insulted, Captain, if I believed you put any thought into your argument apart from your own desire to be alone with her. It radiates off you and makes you vulnerable. Let me.” Loki placed a hand on his chest, smiling serenely in the face of Steve’s increasingly flustered demeanour. 

Steve flushed. “That’s not…” 

Loki held his hand up again and silence fell over the room. 

“I believe I know what your problem is, why she’s making you have these dreams.” Loki straightened his collar and rolled the sleeves on his shirt, “spent her whole life in that flat and now she’s here with you. Apparently you’re superior human specimens,” he shrugged his shoulders, a hand on the door, “she’s aroused, and as soon as that arousal spilled out into her magic you locked her away. But, you’re in luck, because I can help,” Loki gave a cheeky grin and turned away from the blushing Captain. 

Loki pushed the door open and locked it behind him in a smooth movement. In the split second before the lock clicked into place there was a squeak of rubber soles on the vinyl floor as the entire time rush to stop him - and then silence descended. 

“Hello, little one,” Loki cooed, side stepping the breakfast tray that you unceremoniously hurled at him as he entered, the cereal and coffee splashed on the pristine wall behind. He simply tapped his foot and the milk that had been soaking into his trousers vanished, along with the once dripping food on the wall. 

“Fuck off. I’m not talking to any more of you, especially not if you’re going to patronise me,” you turned away, bare legs dangling from the medical bed.

“No, of course not. My apologies.” Loki lifted his hand, green magic moving over the floor and picking up the breakfast tray, a cloud of gold and green carried it carefully back to you before landing softly on the bed. The once plain breakfast had been replaced by a carafe of coffee and an array of artfully arranged fruit and pastries. 

You looked down at the tray and smiled, the first smile you’d allowed yourself in a long while, and Loki took the opportunity to move closer. The god positioned himself on your other side and took the largest strawberry from the plate before inspecting it closely, keeping his eye on you in his peripheral vision. 

You eyed him too. You knew who he was, you’d been the news and read the articles about the Avengers and their fight with the norse god of mischief, Loki. Yet here he was, dressed in simple black slacks and a white shirt, inspecting a strawberry that he’d made with his own magic. In profile he was just as handsome as the media photos you’d seen. His cheekbones were sharp and angular, his eyes clear and piercing, yet there was a softness to his cheeks and lips, especially when he smiled a little, rolling the red fruit between his thumb and forefinger, pressing until juice pooled on the surface of the soft flesh. 

Then he spoke, and his voice wasn’t cutting and violent like the videos of New York, no, it still held a deep timbre, but there was no panicked undertone or manic speed to his words. 

“I know you’re not to be played with, not like those fools.” He whispered, carefully, almost gently, keeping his volume low so you had to lean in. “I should call you little fae?” He took a bite of the strawberry and turned to look at your perplexed expression, “little nymph?” The sugary juice coated his lips and you leaned closer, watching his lips turn pinker, “no, no, I saw your power this morning, and you’re still doing it now, though I wager you don’t know it. How about Little Goddess?” And he popped the last bite of the strawberry into your open mouth tilting his head, amused, at your surprised eyes. 

Loki watched the silver flecks in your iris spark and fizzle, the subtle change of your hair colour as you breathed out.

“And who are you to label me?” You kept eye contact with him, eating the fruit slowly while he observed you. It took every ounce of Loki’s control not to grin at the haughty tilt of your chin or

“My name is Loki,” for once he decided to forgo his full title, he assumed you must know it anyway and, besides, he had a game to play with the Avengers. Making you feel small was not part of that game. “I am not-” He looked at the mirror, choosing his words carefully,“they treat me like this too. With fear. But they should be treating you with admiration.” He touched your check with the tips of his fingers, “worshipping you.” 

You lent into the touch, your skin alight, lips parting slightly. But he pulled away casually, leaving you leaning into nothing and struggling to catch yourself before falling. 

“Well, I don’t think so, Loki, I irritate them now. I just told the truth, they like each other. I just wanted to help,” you looked at your lap, twisting your fingers together and digging your nails into your palms. “I just wanted some friends, and it’s their fault anyway, they brought me here, I didn’t ask to come.”

With a warm hand, Loki tilted your chin up and raised each finger away from your palm until they lay flat in his, “don’t hurt yourself, Little Goddess.”

At his touch you could feel the spark of energy that had everyone on edge, the light outside glowed and your eyes flashed as you stared back, holding him in your gaze. 

“Can you see what power you wield?” Loki ran his hand down your cheek, “they want to subdue you again.” Your eyes glazed, the silver now prominent. “Do not take their concoctions.” Loki turned subtly towards the countertop that lined one wall of the medical room, it currently held a kidney dish with a vial of sedative and prepackaged needles. 

“I don’t want to take those tablets again, I just want to be able to control this. I want to be free, they said it’ll help me.”

“They’re drugging you, if you want help, I can help you, will you let me help you, Little ásynja?” You nodded, eager for anything that would let you out of this boring room and out into the world you longed to explore. “Tell me what you want?”

Over your shoulder Loki watched as the door handle began to jiggle, squeaking in the lock from the ferocity of the attack on the other side.

“I don’t want to wear this stupid hospital gown any more.” You plucked at the hem, “it’s humiliating, I feel like a - a - patient or something.”

Loki grinned, a smile of deep satisfaction that he allowed to spread over his face. That wasn’t what he was expecting, not with the way your body had lit under his touch, your heartbeat hammering and the delicate scent of you shifting into something deeper and muskier. But it was something he could take care of while you warred with whatever feeling you were trying to tamp down that had you squirming in your seat and squeezing your thighs together. 

“Of course, I can use my magic to change it for you? What would you like?” With his hands under your elbows, Loki encouraged you to stand up in front of him. A shimmer of magic and you were taller, heels tipping you forwards onto your tiptoes, emerald silk clung to you, a short corset tight at your waist, glinting with gold, your hair piled on top of your head under a crown and intricate gold and emerald jewellery circling your wrists. 

You reached up, your fingers dancing over the crown, smiling and let out a laugh of shock. You hadn’t even felt anything, one minute you were in that awful hospital gown and now you were dressed like a queen. 

The banging on the door grew louder and your eyes flicked over to where the metal vibrated on its hinges, but Loki put his hand on your cheek, turning your attention back to his piercing gaze.

“Don’t look at the door, just look at me.” He gently touched a hand to your temple, a rude act, perhaps, normally he would ask before trying to pry into anyone’s memories. But with the sparse information that the others had been able to glean he really didn’t expect to find anything at all. 

Your mind opened and Loki was overwhelmed, oh this was better than he could have dreamed. You were there behind the wall, the real you, not this cowed mortal, but something infinitely more that faded into the back of your memories like the darkening night. He couldn’t see it all and he didn’t want to risk hurting you by freeing it all at once. Your eyes glazed and then squinted, as if staving off a headache and Loki pulled himself away from your memory. 

“Maybe a bit too elegant for the medical bay,” his magic shimmered again as Loki tried to regain his composure. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting to see behind the steel wall of your mind, but it certainly wasn’t that, and he hadn’t expected flashed of his own memories to come flooding back to him either, no images yet, but the feel of a soft hand in his, moss and crowns of flowers, Asgardian summers that had once felt endless. 

Loki was decidedly distracted, images of you arching on your bed, miles away, aeons ago, filled his mind. Your desires, your lust was overwhelming, just the scent of you, so close to him, was making his fingers itch to touch you and he stepped closer, hands circling the corset at your waist, eager to feel the heat of your body flush against his own. 

You gasped, looking down at the once elegant dress, now gone, but the corset, heels and crown remained. Silky shorts sitting high on your thighs, lace dancing across your skin and goosebumps rising where Loki’s cool hands met your bare skin. 

“My sincere apologies, darling.” He stepped back abruptly and you looked directly at him at the pet name, hand still on the crown, “too soon,” he smiled, but you didn’t cover yourself. Somewhere deep inside this felt entirely right and natural, even the crown was a welcome weight, and Loki’s gaze was familiar too. Then he flicked his hand and his magic wrapped around you, replacing your scant lingerie. 

You knew these clothes, though they weren’t nearly as regal or provocative as Loki’s outfits. They had been lost during your supposed rescue from London to the compound, when all the problems had started and life had become scary and upside down. Soft, worn, light blue jeans, a white shirt and your trainers, he had pulled them from your memories, all except the bracelet that circled your wrist.

“Oh - this didn’t change,” you inspected it, watching the tiny emeralds glinting in the morning sun.

“You can keep the bracelet, consider it a gift. From one God to another,” Loki closed the bracelet under his hand, holding your wrist gently.

From one god to another, it vibrated through you, this is truly how he saw the confusion of your powers? Some sort of admission that you were a celestial, godly being? 

You swallowed down the sick, nervous feeling building inside of you and touched the bracelet again instead.

“I don’t have a gift for you,” you whispered.

“I will allow this indiscretion,” Loki smiled, “I am sure there will be an opportunity in the future.”

His smile was filled with suggestion and you longed for him to act upon it.

Behind you the door continued to rattle, Loki’s magic keeping the lock in place even as your captors tried to open it, though he could hear nothing from the outside. He flicked a hand and out of the corner of his eye he saw the camera and microphone melt into a puddle of black plastic and wiring.

“Tell me, darling, do you feel unwell. You are warm, I can hear your heartbeat.” Loki moved closer again, pulling you in with a strong but gentle hand on your wrist, his fingers touching the intricate bracelet he’d created for you. 

“You can hear that?” You asked, quietly, and somehow as you blinked your eyelashes felt longer and thicker, becoming a flirtatious flutter. 

“I believe you may require some assistance.” Loki’s lips hovered above your own, the light outside as blinding as his gaze, “you’re aware they can see you through that mirror?”

You started and looked round, skin as hot as coals and heart beating like a drum at the thought of all they’d seen you do in this room. Loki could remember too, your fingers dipping below the waistband of your underwear, the little moans you’d allowed yourself, and he felt his trousers become tight for the second time in your presence. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult not to act upon the burning lust that had been kindled inside. Tony was right, as soon as he’d walked into the room he’d felt hot and bothered, needing to touch and tease to release some of the tension. 

“Do not worry, my darling,” he waved and plush curtains fell across the mirror in heavy ripples of moss green velvet and gold brocade, the luxurious fabric so at odds with the clinical room you’d been left in. 

The door handle stopped moving and Loki turned his attention back to you. The rise and fall of your chest as you panted, confused, as if all of the air had left the room. The way you tipped your head forwards to try and regain some composure. 

The handle started to move again and a dull thump reverberated through the room. You turned to him, suddenly aware that he was a stranger in your rooms, eyes wild before you fluttered them closed. Loki pulled you forwards, the rhythm of the thuds against the door speeding up his own heart beat. His lips met yours, one hand around your waist pulling you closer, the other encouraging your legs up onto the bed until you were situated in his lap, clinging to the feeling of his body around yours, his lips slanted against your mouth and his hands cradling you. 

Moaning, your fingertips glowed, light sparking in the room, silver and navy. But your eyes stayed closed, ignorant of the light show you were putting on for the God. 

“That’s it Little ásynja, let me take care of you. They have been neglecting you, have they not?” Loki cooed, soft and low and soothing, you nodded against his chest, something deep inside calling to the God as he peppered you with kisses.

“And at home, you had a consort, to satisfy you?” He didn’t really care if he was stepping on anyone’s toes, but it was good to plan ahead for these things.

You shook your head, “no I, well….” 

Loki let his fingers ghost over your forehead, he could see you in that far away bed, a little Midgardian toy in your hand as moans filled your thoughts, electricity and light. Loki’s grin was wolfish. Not quite the innocent little shut away they all thought. 

Your hips seemed to be moving entirely independently of your own thoughts, dragged into the deep sense memories that Loki had stirred, a muscle memory of pleasure and satisfaction that your body was chasing. Your hands slid into Loki’s hair while you ground down against the bulge in his own trousers, eager for more. 

“That’s okay darling, I understand. I could visit you, if you liked. We could talk, I can…help you. With your magic of course.” Loki continued to place featherlight kisses across your nose, cheeks, forehead, now beaded with sweat. The calmness in his voice made your harsh panting sound even louder in your head. Loki’s hands lay gently on your hips, helping you to move and grind against him. “That’s right, darling, you take what you need from me, I’ll take care of you.” He promised, as you came with a cry, your arousal soaking into the leg of his trousers. 

Immediately you were filled with shame and embarrassment, attempting to squirm from his lap, but he held you down firmly, the length of him still pressed between your legs, and in your post orgasmic sensitive state you could feel him pulsing against you. 

Loki looked into your eyes, impossibly black now with a silver ring separating your pupil from the colour, not black, no, rich, dark blue, like the night sky circled by stars. His heart beat wildly, he needed more of you, he felt insatiable, obsessed. Were you doing this? Were you making him feel this way? Like he couldn’t breathe. Or because this feeling was genuine? What memory was it that itched at the back of his mind that he couldn’t realise? 

He fought the urge to lift his hips and chase his own release with you, taking a deep breath and promising himself a hasty retreat to his own rooms, he managed to calm himself. 

"I promise I’ll come back, but I think they would like me to leave now.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, holding you back from kissing him again but you shook your head keeping him close. 

A shrill clang of metal on metal reverberated through the room, setting Loki’s teeth on edge. The door was at least partially broken, he assumed, the hinges now hanging from the frame. Fool, Loki berated himself, he had allowed his magic to slip and as sure as he could hear shouting and voices outside of the room, they must have been able to hear you cry out. 

You leant into his embrace and pressed a kiss to his lips, sweet and slow as the door fell into the room, framing Steve on the other side, panting and frustrated, his cheeks flushed.

“Alright let’s go!” He pointed at Loki.

“So I can see you again?” You asked with a small voice, fingers clinging to his shirt, lips against his neck.

“Yes, darling, I’ll see you tomorrow, but if you need me, I am a god,” he leaned into your ear, “you can always pray to me.” Loki placed a kiss on your forehead and felt a frizzle of something escape again while Steve, and now Sam too, stood in the door frame shuffling, uncomfortable.

Such power, he chuckled to himself, such power and yet they are frightened of their prisoner.

It was definitely worth having to listen to the mortals complaining to irritate them this much and he had got their not so stoic prisoner to talk a little, even open up to him, he had brought you release when they could barely bring you comfort and he felt settled in the knowledge that they had no idea what they were playing with. 

Loki was lost in his own mind imagining the wall in yours, the memories entombed there. He had heard your voice, delicate and nervous, talking to him a few times. Telling him about your loneliness, your confusion and fear. And around an hour ago he swore he heard you gasp his name. The close proximity allowed him to hear you pray, but he could also feel the connection he had opened. A version of you searching to get out, running through corridors filled with vast vaulted ceilings and pillars that seemed to cascade form the ceiling, holding them up almost effortlessly. Endless halls of gold and miles of forest. 

This time it was Steve who rudely interrupted his studious daydreaming. 

“She’ll only talk to him,” he pointed at Loki who plastered on a caricature of shocked innocence.

“Are you sure?” He was sure, but he had such an urge to hear it from someone else.

“Of course I’m sure, she point blank refused to talk to me, Bruce, Tony, anyone. She asked for you and you alone.” 

“I’m flattered,” Loki stood and gave a smug smile before bowing at the waist.

“She wants you now, if you’ll go.” Tony suggested, refusing to meet Loki’s eye and instead toying with the clear phone in his hands. 

Loki faced the assembled superheroes before him, “how does it feel, heroes, to be the bad guy?” He waved his fingers at himself dramatically. 

“We’re not the bad guys,” Natasha insisted.

“No? Does the scared girl want to talk to you?” He slid his hand out in front of him, pointing at the shocked faces, “or me?” He waved his hand down his body and changed his clothes from his Asgardian leathers to a casual pair of black jeans and a matching t-shirt,. “Bad guys,” he pointed at them, faking a grumpy face and then smirking as he walked off to the medical wing.

&lt;<Part 2 Part 4 >>

[spiced-wine-fic]

[westerosiladies]

Sansa Stark Appreciation Month Day 24 - Prayers

[amplifyme]

What Rough Beast

This one’s for the SanSan Circle of Love. It’s been awhile. Not newly written, just newly posted. Read on AO3. Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark. Teen & up. WC: 1,166. GOT TV Series Canon Compliant. Missing Scene. The Old Gods and the New. The Bread Riot.

He didn’t know how he’d found her. It had been a flash of her red hair, caught from the corner of his eye, that’d made him pass Joffrey off to another guardsman and sent him in her direction. He’d seen when she’d been cut off from the royal party and he’d gone after her without thought. But how had he known to turn down that particular passageway? Might be he’d heard her cries, though it seemed impossible he would have over the din in the streets. Men screaming, women wailing, steel clanging. Yet he had pivoted at that open doorway and followed the long corridor down, until he’d heard her pleas for true.

Four rats he’d found circling her. One holding her arms, one at each leg; the fourth wedged between her open thighs. That one had been the first to die, his guts spilling out onto his feet as he went, the light in his eyes extinguished like a candle’s flamed snuffed out by calloused fingers. Sandor had tossed him aside and the second and third died just as quickly, the fourth crouched in a corner, no doubt pissing himself.

Sandor ignored him as he handed the girl up and settled her over his shoulder. He was halfway to the street when she started gagging.

“Please,” she moaned, slapping at his back. “I’m going to be sick.”

He bent and eased her to feet, and she immediately twisted away, sinking to her knees and retching onto the straw-covered cobblestones, the front of her gown hanging in tatters.

He glanced right and left as she coughed and spat and loosened his sword in its scabbard; it was sticky with blood. The metallic rasp startled her, and she looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Blood had begun to trickle down her cheek, but from where he couldn’t tell.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

 A sharp nod came in response, and she wiped a sleeve across her mouth. Instead of pulling her back up he squatted down next to her, the pop of his knees loud in narrow hall. She flinched and scooted away until her back was pressed against the wall. Her eyes were glassy and red, and he frowned at the fear in them. He reached to push back the hair from her forehead, and she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away.  

“Hold still,” he growled and grasped her chin, gently turning her face back to his. “Let me have a look.” His eyes flicked over the deep cut on her eyebrow and her bruised cheek and then the rest of her face, acutely conscious of her wary study of him. She trembled like a frightened animal caught in a trap, and the larger truth of that did not escape him. Lips pulled tight, he yanked off his right gauntlet and reached into the left for the scrap of cloth he kept there. As he dabbed at the cut he told her, “This makes twice I’ve stained a kerchief with your blood. May as well keep this one, too.”

She blinked up at him and there was more of her there than had been. Her mouth came open as he pressed the cloth into her hand and he could already hear the pleasantry about to escape it, so he spoke before she could.

 “That man,” he asked, tipping his head toward the room that had become an abattoir, “did he…?”

  “No,” she squeaked.  

He nodded at that. It was good that he’d gotten to her in time, though what was ahead of her was no less dangerous. His mind played back images of the aftermath of the Imp’s gift of whores to the young king, and he wondered for the hundredth time when enough would be enough for him. He’d thought it might happen after he’d cut down the boy on the Kingsroad, the night the girl had lost her wolf.  And then had thought it again in court when all he’d been able to offer her was his cloak after she was beaten. But even that hadn’t been enough to move him, and instead he stood his spot day after day and did as he was told and kept his mouth shut. Looking long at the girl, disheveled and jumpy, he realized the line had finally been crossed. The time had come, and his choice made.

He stood and drew his sword. “All right, then, let’s get you out of here. You’ll go back on my shoulder.”

“Might I walk instead?” she asked, her cheeks suddenly flushed red.  

“No, we’re a smaller target, together. And harder to pull you off there than from my arm. I need to be able to swing my blade full, besides, without worrying about cutting you in half. Wouldn’t do to bring you back dead, now, would it?”

She blanched at that but stood, and he gave his arm to steady herself before he bent and grabbed her above the knees, settling her high on his shoulder. He knew his armor would dig into her already tender gut, but there was nothing to be done for it.

He made the street, and it was chaos, but not so bad as it had been. The gold cloaks had arrived in force and between them and the Lannister guard, the angry mob was dispersing. Bodies littered the ground, already attracting flies and thieves in equal measure. The smell of blood and shit hung heavy in the humid air. He held his sword high and at the ready and snarled into the faces before him. No one tried to stop him, and the girl made not a sound, hanging limply against him.

He was soon pushing past the Lannister guard and through the double doors of the storehouse where the royal party had taken shelter. Suddenly the Imp was beside him, pointing at a stack of bulging burlap sacks just as he folded at the waist and set the girl gently down on them. Like bees to honey, the handmaidens swarmed, patting, and shushing at her.

 “Are you hurt, my lady?” the Imp asked.

But Sansa Stark had eyes only for him, and they were wide again, and haunted. He wheeled, stepping around the dwarf and toward the corridor where he’d seen Trant disappear. Though he tried, he could not look away from her, not while her eyes held him captive.

“The little bird is bleeding.” He was dismayed by the weakness in his voice. He sounded as shaken as he felt. “Someone take her back to her cage, see to that cut.”

 The Imp rounded on him. “Well done, Clegane.”

He stopped and glared down at the smallest of the Lannisters as the little bird’s maids led her away. Stunted little prick.

“I didn’t do it for you,” he rasped.

Didn’t do it for the king either. I did it for her, he thought as he went in search of Joffrey. I did it for myself.

[thecoffeelorian]

I want to figure out what the heck all of these characters in my head eat every day, because I literally can't look at any real-world examples without my inner censor howling "No cultural theft, no making anything too much like Earth, what in the world are you thinking you moron".

I want to figure out who all of their gods are, both old and new and whether the two ends of the spectrum start directly coming into conflict, maybe even face-to-face, because why the heck not.

I want to figure out how my characters decorate their walls.

I want to figure out how they decorate their clothes.

I want to figure out who they write letters to, and just how many people write them back.

I want to figure out what they make songs about, and what events are so taboo that nobody composes a single line about them, ever.

[sandpaper-blues]

206 - The Old Gods and the New

Fun fact: The guillotine was invented by a guy named Guillotine (just like Morse invented Morse code and Plato invented the plate*) as a humane method of execution. That fact always seemed a little counterintuitive, but then someone like Theon “Butterknife” Greyjoy really makes things click. Theon’s inability to behead Neck Beard swiftly was perhaps the most efficient way to summarize everything…

[shadowednavi]

it's been awhile since I've worked on this project! I've had this verse finished for months but didn't want to post it on its own, and instead wait until the whole thing is strung together to show the final result all at once. But I'm tired of holding onto it, so here is one section of my deltarune animation! My art tag has other clips if anyone is interested in seeing more~

(song: "The Hymn of Axciom" by Vienna Teng)

[weirdworldproblems]

Theon, you fucking bastard!!! I know he gets what's coming to him later on but, FUCK YOU. *wipes tears*

[the-final-sif]

For anyone in the US who has just realized that they are nearly 1 month away from their taxes being due (April 18th) and is panicking because they don't know what to do,

Calm down.

If you're new to taxes, and in an early part of your life (just earning wages from a company that does withholdings), they're actually pretty easy to do and odds are you're just gonna get some free money (your tax refund).

Collect documents. Specifically, go get your get your W2, a form sent to you by whatever company you work for. Most will send you this online. Some might send you a paper copy.

https://www.irs.gov/filing/free-file-do-your-federal-taxes-for-free

Go to the above link, there's free filing options for federal taxes, and for some state taxes. It took me ~15 minutes to do my taxes in total, and then the government gave me like 1k back.

If your situation is more complicated than just having a W2, then go to the IRS's help page. They have a ton of super helpful tools that can walk you through different situations and what you need to do, they also have a toll-free help line.

https://www.irs.gov/help/ita

I know everyone talks about how much taxes suck, but legit, if you're an average wage earner and don't own a house or anything, odds are your taxes can be done in 15 minutes and then you get some of the taxes you paid back. It's not that scary, and the IRS has been working really hard to make the process as simple as possible.

Good luck!

[decamarks]

Made this for the Neopets beauty contest last week! And then it got removed, due to 3D renders not being allowed...?! (I'm still impressed at myself for getting it >75kb, as per the extremely ’90s ruleset.)

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 

"Because she takes her pills?" 

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route. ��

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 

Tony, however, was taking no chances. 

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

[crawley-fell]

How could I love again? How could I ever ask for more? And to the road ahead Into a life I can't ignore

One More Hour - Tame Impala

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

What I love about this scene is not just how casual and open they are with being gay, that theres no need to hide their queerness in this universe

But its also Jespers hand on Wylans neck, something given his past could be a massive trigger for him, but he feels so completely safe with Jesper he can just enjoy the moment

[helyeahmangocheese]

for roll call purposes: yes, I was here for the mark of athena cliffhanger, the 'good kid' teaser and the following two cast albums, for the mcga/toa book announcements, falafel jokes and cartercy in 2017... and while new fans are not safe from spoilers on this blog you are loved and embraced and very much encouraged to interact

[c-53]

Oh holy shit rooster teeth finally got put down??

[ofswordsandpens]

"so you think that a society that functions around a child military instead of the entire city of literal adults might be indicative that their attitudes and ideals are a bit off ? and that by moving to New Rome Percy is not actually escaping his life as a demigod but instead is just giving himself a whole new set of problems to deal with? "