#and the occasional Sylvie what the FUCK

[theworstcreature]

Guess who’s like not fucking ok at all after tonight’s Loki ep

MAJOR MAJOR LOKI SPOILERS DO NOT CLICK IF YOU HABENT SEEN IM BEGGING YOU

OH MY HOLY CINNAMON TOAST FUCKING FUCK I AM SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING ALSO

MOBIUS MY BELOVED I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE A JETSKI SALESMAN I LOVE HIM SO MUCH SJFJJAHEHFUSUEUHEJDJD

ALSO I think he would be the parent that has the house his kids friend group always choose to stay at.. idk I’m just getting “house that always has the good snacks” vibes

ALSO SYLVIE AND LOKI HAVING THAT CONVO IN THE BAR HE LOVES HIS FRIENDS SO MUCH I LOVE YOUR FRIENDS TOO BBG (and his unofficial husband yes I rEfuse to believe Lokius isn’t canon) IFDKJWJEJKEIWBTHWJ THAT WHOLE SCENE OH MY LORDY LORD HOLY FUCKING JESUS IN A DEEPFRIER

SOMEBODY PUT ME IN A COMA TILL NEXY EPISODE I WILL ACTUALLY NOT SURVIVE

AND THERE WAS SO MICH SPAGETIFICARION I NEED TONKNOW HOW ANS WHU THIS IS HAOPENING TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN HAPPENNG

LOKI OMFG MY BABYGIRL HE DOESNT NEED TO HET BRUTAKLT RIPPED OUT OF TIME AT RANDOM ANYMORE!!!1!!1!1!1!1!!!1!!1!1!!1!

ALSO OB OB MY GIRL I LOVE HIM SO MICH HES A LITTLE GUY LOOK AT HIM AND HIS LITTLE SCIFI NOVEL LOOK AT HIM HES SO SPECIAL TO ME I LOVE HIM HES SO BIG BRAIN AND I ASPIRE TO BE LIKE HIM

ANYWAUS MOBIUS US JUST A SINGLE MOTHER AND I LOVE HIM GODNIGHTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[endofradio]

PROVE MY LOVE

WARNINGS: NSFW (but like… it’s 🌽 with feeling. they start smashing towards the end 💀)

RELATIONSHIP: FRANK / ORIGINAL CHARACTER (SYLVIE)

NOTES: this is a draft of a scene i’ve got planned for a future fic! i’ll probably be posting more drafts along the way because this is fun tbh. also, this scene takes place in frank’s apartment.

SUMMARY: frustrated by the fact sylvie seems to be questioning his reasons for saving her life, frank decides to tell her — and show her — how he really feels about her.

WORD COUNT: 4,032 (yeah it’s long)

TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @blackwolfstabs @shawsfinalgirl @atcarpenter

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! helps keep me motivated <3

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“Why are you being so nice to me?” Sylvie asked the question carefully, a sense of confusion flickering in her gaze. “Why did you choose to save my life? You… you tried to kill me, and now…”

As she looked up at Frank, she could see him look away from her for a moment. When he looked back at her, his already-cold gaze had hardened. “Well, I suppose I had a change of heart, huh?” He shot back, a bitter smile curling at his lips. “Sure, maybe I hurt you, and I am a piece of shit, but… did you really think I was gonna let you just fuckin’ die like that?” He was getting closer to her now, practically staring into her goddamn soul.

Sylvie swallowed nervously, taking a couple steps backward. “You tried. To fucking. Kill me.” She repeated, stopping at every couple of words to let them sink in. “You could’ve just let me die, but you didn’t. Why?”

Why? That question repeated over and over again in Frank’s mind. He could feel the wall he had built around himself slowly crumbling. He couldn’t be vulnerable. Vulnerability was a weakness. Yet, this woman standing in front of him was fucking breaking him. There was a much deeper reason he had chosen to save her besides “having a change of heart,” but of course he wasn’t going to fucking admit that, not yet. Trying to mask his emotional turmoil was only proving to be becoming significantly more difficult for him right now.

So, Frank just shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle. “You really don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” He snidely asked, taking a step closer towards Sylvie. He let out a bitter scoff. “God, you really are a stubborn little brat, aren’t you?” Yeah, he was being an asshole right now, but it was just a front. He was desperately trying to hold back from just fucking saying it.

“What is there to get?” Sylvie questioned, narrowing her eyes at Frank. As for her, she was experiencing her own tumultuous whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

“What is there to— oh, Jesus. If only you fuckin’ knew what goes on inside my goddamn head.” Frank knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. Jesus Christ, he needed her to understand. When he looked at Sylvie, she seemed only more confused, and it was pissing him off. He continued to walk towards her as she backed away from him, until her back was nearly pressed against the kitchen counter. He could tell she was getting nervous. Afraid, even. The idea was almost physically painful to Frank.

“You have no clue, no fuckin’ clue what you put me through.” Frank hissed, his eyes narrowing. “Wouldn’t you just love to know?”

“Yeah, I would like to know.” Sylvie answered, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. Frank picked up on the way her breathing was quickening, how her heart rate was accelerating ever so slightly… why was she so afraid? Yeah, perhaps he knew he was scaring her, but he couldn’t help it. He was a jackass. She was occasionally avoiding eye contact with him, her eyes darting in different directions. Frank couldn’t handle it.

Maybe a little too roughly, he reached to grab Sylvie’s chin, tilting it so she was looking directly at him. “You truly, truly piss me off sometimes, you know that?” He asked, his voice lowering. “You make me confused. One second, I wanna just… I don’t know, snap at you. Taunt you. Get under your skin as I usually do.”

Frank paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Then, he continued.

“But then, I…” His eyes briefly flickered down to Sylvie’s lips. Shit. He looked back into her eyes, suddenly feeling as though he couldn’t speak. “I… wanna kiss you until you can’t. Fuckin’. Breathe. Until all you can think about is me. Until you forget your own goddamn name. Until…” Frank tried to shake the thoughts out of his head, but they were just spilling out of his mouth. Now, all he could think about was kissing her, tasting her. Snap out of it already!

He looked away from her for a moment, tightly shutting his eyes. Even then, the thoughts only persisted, getting stronger with each second. He just wanted to have his hands all over her.

Frank tightened his grip on Sylvie’s chin just a little, and when he looked at her… god, the way she was looking at him, with her soft, brown eyes all wide, and… was that a tear glistening in her left eye? Why did she look beautiful like this? Fucking hell, he was fighting demons.

“How do you feel about me?” He then harshly asked. “Don’t lie, either. I’ll know if you are.”

Sylvie drew in a deep, unsteady breath. How the hell was she supposed to answer that question? It wasn’t an easy one. She didn’t know how to phrase what she was feeling, what she was thinking. She didn’t know what the fuck to say.

“Answer me.” Frank hissed through gritted teeth. Part of him felt guilty for acting like this, but he just couldn’t help it. He was just… frustrated.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” Sylvie weakly whispered. “I mean, I… I feel like you…”

“Like I what?”

“Like you only want to use me.”

Frank rolled his eyes and stepped away from Sylvie, taking a deep breath. He began to pace around the kitchen like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair. He knew he was an asshole, but for some reason he couldn’t handle Sylvie thinking of him as that much of an asshole. He had tried to push down his feelings for her, tried to seem like he didn’t care. Now, Sylvie was truly under the impression that Frank didn’t give a shit about her, and for some reason… he didn’t like that.

“You seriously fuckin’ think that?” He asked, before approaching Sylvie again. He placed both hands on either side of the kitchen counter, trapping her. “I mean, sure. Maybe I am a heartless bastard, but… fuck. You’re so goddamn oblivious.”

“What…?” Sylvie’s eyes were glazing over with tears even more. Fuck. “What are you… trying to say?”

Frank could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing getting faster. He was desperately clinging onto the self-control that he did have.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy. I hope you realize that.” He whispered, a sardonic half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You make me feel like I’m about to lose my goddamn mind. You’re… you’re like a fuckin’ parasite.”

Sylvie could feel her breath getting caught in her throat. Wait… so did he feel the same way she did? She thought he didn’t, she thought her feelings were completely one-sided. He had drained her of so much blood and could’ve just left her to die, but… he didn’t. All her life, Sylvie had never experienced even just a little bit of compassion that was directed at her. Of course she was in denial. Coming from someone like Frank, it was even more difficult to comprehend.

Frank got even closer to Sylvie, their faces now inches apart from each other. He could feel her warm breath and the fiery tension that was crackling in the air.

“What am I… to you?” Sylvie quietly asked.

That question just about did it for Frank. As irritation built up within him along with a flaming desire, he swiftly reached to grab her face, claiming Sylvie’s lips in a kiss that was full of both frustration and passion. She was caught off-guard by the suddenness of the kiss, her eyes widening for a moment as her breath hitched. Then, she slowly relaxed into it, her eyes gently fluttering shut.

The kiss was slow at first, but as Frank felt his self-control slipping further, it became more intense. He moved a hand away from Sylvie’s face to grab at her waist, suddenly feeling a surge of possessiveness. He felt her reaching to touch his face, and that really sent him over the edge. Frank frantically began to place kisses along Sylvie’s jawline, down her neck… and then he swiftly lifted her up, placing her on top of the kitchen counter. That was when he realized just how small she really was in comparison to him — he was nearly a foot taller than her.

Frank’s lips met Sylvie’s again, and his hands were practically all over her as he urgently deepened the kiss. He could feel her slowly melting into him and letting go, and it was only adding fuel to the fire. The way she wrapped her arms around his neck, combing her fingers through his hair… it was the kind of thing Frank only thought he could dream about. This was different from the first and only other time they had done something like this — there was passion, genuine passion. Frank’s mind started to wander to that particular moment. He could just hear Sylvie quietly whimpering his real name, how good it sounded. He couldn’t get the image out of his head of the way Sylvie had looked underneath him with her cheeks all flushed… and the way she looked when she had been on top of him— alright, Frank. That’s enough. That can all happen again later.

“Why do you let me… do this…?” Frank quietly asked in between kisses. “Y’know I’m not… good for you…”

Sylvie’s heart was beating out of her chest. She just wanted to say those three words that she’d been trying to hold back from saying… but she couldn’t. Part of her was scared to, still afraid that Frank didn’t really feel the same way and only felt lust for her, nothing else. She had lived a miserable life of rejection.

“I… I know…” She whispered, her breath shaking.

“You just can’t… pull away, huh? You’re just… wrapped around my finger… aren’t you?”

“M… mhm…”

Frank smirked a little against Sylvie’s lips. “That’s what I thought… you’ve got me wrapped around yours, too.”

He started roughly kissing her again. He just couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her — she was like a drug to him. He pushed Sylvie’s shirt up just a little, just so he could feel her skin, and the sensation of Frank’s cold hand on her bare waist was sending chills down her spine, and her breath hitched just a bit.

“You remember that… one time we slept together?” Frank murmured, his kisses now trailing down to Sylvie’s neck again, specifically the side where the scarred-over bite wound was — the one he had inflicted. The realization gave him another surge of possessiveness. The scar was a reminder — a reminder of how Sylvie belonged to him.

“I didn’t want that to end.” Frank quietly continued, his hands continuing to gently caress her body. “I was… disappointed… when I woke up and… and you weren’t there.”

“Really…?” Sylvie asked. As she felt Frank kissing her neck, she shivered just a bit. She couldn’t believe how good he was able to make her feel.

“I wanted that moment… to last forever…” Frank continued, murmuring against her neck. Slowly, his hand began to travel up Sylvie’s skirt, his fingers gently grazing her thigh. As he felt a sudden wave of desire come over him, Frank left a gentle bite on her neck. “You felt… so good…” His voice had started to get rougher, huskier.

Frank heard a small gasp from Sylvie, and he quickly moved his head away from her neck to look down at her. Quickly, he kissed her again, his hands roaming back to her waist and grabbing at it desperately.

Before Sylvie could even say anything, Frank lifted her up off of the kitchen counter. Being in his arms like this, so high above ground… it was making Sylvie’s heart race even more, perhaps from a combination of anxiety and also desire. With his newly-obtained abilities, Frank could easily pick up on any emotion Sylvie was feeling. If she was afraid, he could practically smell it — right now, he could. He looked up at her, brushing a dark strand of hair away from her face. On the other hand, he could also sense the desire she was feeling. It was only encouraging him.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

Sylvie slowly nodded. “Afraid of heights, I guess.” She answered quietly. “You’re just… really tall.”

“No one’s ever done this to you before, huh?” Frank asked, a small smirk forming on his face. Sylvie shook her head in response. All of this that she had experienced with Frank — genuine passionate kissing, sex that made her actually feel something… she had never experienced it with anybody before, and to think it was her former worst enemy making her feel all of these things…

“Well, you’re not gonna fall.” Frank quietly spoke, before taking her lips in another deep kiss as he carried her off towards his bedroom.

Once they got to the bedroom, things became progressively more heated. They were on the bed within moments, Sylvie quickly straddling him as they roughly kissed once again. As they did, Sylvie felt Frank shift underneath her as he moved to unbutton his pants, before she heard the sound of him unzipping them. Moving his hands back to her body, Frank began to slowly move them down Sylvie’s slender form, before slipping a hand under her black lace skirt, sliding his hand slowly up her thigh, pausing once he had reached her panties. He let his hand linger there for a moment, before hooking his fingers around the waistband. With a slow, gradual movement, he pulled the material down to her legs. Sylvie finished the job for him, breaking the kiss and freeing herself of the fabric, tossing it on the floor. She adjusted her position, hovering above Frank’s undone pants just a little. She looked down for a moment before her gaze met Frank’s again.

By now, his hands had wandered to her hips, keeping a firm grip on them. He looked into her eyes, his own having darkened with desire. “Don’t keep me waitin’…” He whispered roughly, pulling Sylvie closer against him as he claimed her mouth in what was close to probably being the hundredth kiss of the night so far. He truly was just that desperate for her, especially right now.

Just as Sylvie was about to take things further, there was the sudden sound of thunder outside. Frank broke the kiss for a moment to smirk against her lips, looking up at her.

“Ever fucked to a thunderstorm?” He slyly asked. “It’s quite nice, really — makes it all the more… intense.”

Sylvie chuckled sheepishly. “No, I… I haven’t.”

“Well… would you like to know what it’s… like?”

Sylvie slowly nodded, and that was when Frank pulled her into yet another hungry kiss. She slowly lowered herself a little more, and with a single motion, rocked her hips just a little, gently brushing against Frank but not enough to completely take him in. The sensation was enough to cause her to quietly gasp against his lips.

As Frank’s tongue slipped into her mouth, Sylvie felt him suddenly press his hips upwards into her, and she let out another gasp. He gripped her hips again and slowly began to guide her into a gentle rhythm, thunder continuing to crackle outside.

Then, those three words slipped from Sylvie’s mouth. “I… I love you…” She quietly murmured against Frank’s lips.

The admission hit Frank full-force like a goddamn semi-truck. Part of him wanted to deny it, but the way she said it was so vulnerable.

“Say it… say it again.” Frank pleaded. “So I… know it’s… real.”

“I’m in… love with you… Adam…”

The way she said his name… goddamnit. It was making his stomach do somersaults. How the hell was he supposed to control himself now?

“You’re… you’re serious…” He murmured. Frank honestly hadn’t expected Sylvie to actually be in love with him. In his mind, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Hell, he didn’t even think he was capable of being loved by anybody. Choosing to save her was the only act of compassion he had ever displayed towards her, and part of him still wanted to question why he had done it.

“Love” normally meant nothing to Frank, but now that he had heard Sylvie say those words, he just wanted to hear them over and over and over again. He wanted to say he was in love with her too — because he most likely was — but that one emotionless, cold side of him couldn’t bring himself to admit it. The idea of actually loving somebody was terrifying to Frank — he only knew how to discard somebody and move on to the next. He had abandoned his family without a care in the world to dabble in the criminal life. How was he capable of being in love? He wasn’t a nice person. He wasn’t a good person. Yet, for some reason, he was now suddenly obsessed with the idea of Sylvie being in love with him.

“Why…?” Frank quietly asked. “You’re too… good for me.”

Sylvie reached to gently cup Frank’s face with her hands. “I don’t… care…” She whispered in response. “I can’t… stay away from you…”

“Why…?”

“You’re the… only person… who’s made me feel this way.”

Frank’s eyes widened at Sylvie’s words. “You’ve never…?” He couldn’t grasp the idea that he might’ve just been the only person Sylvie had ever loved.

Sylvie shook her head. “No…”

“We’re just a couple of fuck-ups, aren’t we?” Frank chuckled sardonically, planting another kiss to Sylvie’s lips. “You used to tell me to go fuck myself, y’know… now you love me?”

“Change of heart, I guess.” Sylvie responded half-mockingly, before wrapping her legs around Frank’s waist, trying to be even more physically close to him.

As the thunder outside intensified, Frank felt a sudden jolt of pleasure hit him, and he leaned back a bit, his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his eyes fluttering shut as his grip on Sylvie’s hips tightened even further. Sylvie took the opportunity to unzip Frank’s jacket, sliding it over his shoulders to reveal the white tank top he wore underneath. Then, she leaned forward and began to place feverish kisses along his neck and jawline, just as he had previously done to her. In response, he breathed a sigh of pleasure, giving Sylvie a sudden rush of confidence.

The sensation of Frank gently matching her rhythm underneath her caused Sylvie to feel a sudden shockwave of pleasure shoot throughout her body, and she threw her head back, gently closing her eyes in ecstasy as she let a quiet moan fall from her lips.

Following a sudden crash of thunder, Frank abruptly snapped his hips upwards, grabbing Sylvie’s hips impossibly tighter and pulling her further down onto him. She let out a yelp at the feeling, trying to keep herself stable by gripping onto the headboard with one hand, her other firmly placed on Frank’s chest. “Oh my god…” She whimpered as Frank guided her into a more urgent rhythm, the bed quietly creaking. “I… oh, Jesus…”

Sylvie’s breathing was slowly turning into panting, and she didn’t know how much longer she could continue at this point. Gasping and whimpering, she was slowly unraveling before Frank’s eyes.

Frank was desperately fighting the urge to just flip them over and show Sylvie just how much she really drove him insane. As he opened his eyes, he looked up at her with a wide-eyed gaze of adoration. The way her lips were parted, her eyes closed. Frank didn’t think he had ever seen something so beautiful, until now. It was an image he never wanted to get out of his head, and the sounds she made — they were heavenly.

That was when Frank decided he couldn’t take it anymore, and he quickly pushed Sylvie down onto the bed, quickly climbing on top of her as though he was a predator trying to capture its prey. Sylvie let out a slight gasp of surprise, and seeing the predatory gaze in Frank’s eyes was making her feel something… was it desire?

Without any hesitation, Frank quickly grabbed Sylvie’s chin, tilting it upwards as he began to hungrily kiss her. With his other hand, he firmly grabbed at her, pulling her as close to him as he could as he started deeply rocking his hips against hers. The whole time, he kept a tight grip on her waist, almost as though she’d disappear from him if he let go. Sylvie was so small, so fragile — Frank realized how easy it would be to just manhandle her.

“I love you…” Sylvie whispered against his lips. Now that she had said it once, she couldn’t stop saying it. “I can’t… I can’t get enough of you...”

Sylvie’s vulnerability was ripping Frank to shreds. She really did mean what she was saying, and he couldn’t believe it. Even though he was a piece of shit and had done nothing to earn anything from her, she still loved him. Honestly, he felt… bad for her. There were probably so many people who would be better for her, yet she chose him.

Frank’s kisses wandered down to Sylvie’s jawline, neck, collarbone… he was kissing her all over. Desperate to feel more of her skin against his lips, he quickly pulled her shirt over her head, admiring her body before trailing kisses down her chest. “Why me…?” He murmured against her skin.

“I’ve never… loved somebody before…” Sylvie quietly answered.

“Me neither…” Until Sylvie, but of course he couldn’t bring himself to admit that just yet. Deciding to be a little humorous, Frank smirked against her chest. “You just have a thing for jackasses, huh?”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either. Sylvie was more drawn to the wrong type of guy — she only knew cruelty, not love.

“Do you… love me?” Sylvie then asked.

The question caught Frank by slight surprise. His eyes met hers, and then he pulled her impossibly closer to him as he continued to slowly move his hips.

Just say it, goddamnit. It’s not that hard.

The way Sylvie was looking into his eyes wasn’t helping. She looked so hopeful. Jesus, how fucking hurt was she to the point she wanted him to love her… out of all people?

Swallowing, he nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. Frank loved her, but in a way he didn’t understand. It was too complicated to explain.

At Frank’s nod, Sylvie pulled him into another kiss, and that was enough to pull Frank out of his inner turmoil, even if just for a little while. He groaned quietly into the kiss, furrowing his brows as he felt his desire for her take hold. His pace gradually became more urgent, and he buried his face in the crook of Sylvie’s neck. She arched her back a bit, nails digging into his back through his tank top as she held onto him. Judging by her gentle whimpers and gasps, Frank could tell she was getting closer to the edge… and he was determined to get her there.

“Mine…” He murmured against her neck, leaving a trail of small bites and desperate kisses once again. “Only mine… only… mine…”

Frank knew he couldn’t hold much longer, either. His movements became more desperate, his nails digging into her hips. He suddenly realized he needed to see Sylvie coming undone on top of him, and he quickly flipped them over again, desperately pulling Sylvie onto him.

Sylvie was just about seeing stars at this point, feeling that familiar tension building up within her abdomen. “I can’t…” She whined. “I… oh my god…”

There was another crack of thunder as the storm grew more intense, and Sylvie frantically kissed Frank to muffle her moans as they both finally let go, continuing to slowly move together as they rode out their intense, shared high, the storm outside only adding to it all.

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I was already scared about the next Captain America movie, but now realizing that Sam hasn't even been mentioned in like 4 years when HE IS CAPTAIN AMERICA,, now I'm terrified. I don't want them to destroy another of my favorite characters, we suffered enough with Loki Wanda and Stephen's bastardization. Sam is such a good man and deserves so much more

also kinda out of topic, did they seriously made Carter say that shit about little girls in Russia?? When Natasha exists???? It's way too specific, like a jab at Natasha for ??? some fucking reason I guess

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but unfortunately, yes, they said this in the episode:

Why? No fucking reason, that's why.

She has no story and no arc of her own, so the writers need to claim everybody loves her and admires her in order to convince the audience to fall for her. You know, like Sylvie in the Loki series. These writers don't care about these women, they do the bare minimum and then count on the fans to shout "misogyny!" at those of us who complain about their terrible work with them.

It's a vicious cycle but some fans think kissing the ass of every female character = feminism, when in truth what they're doing is kissing the ass of the same writers who can't be arsed to write those women well. They're not kissing the ass of a fictional woman who doesn't exist, they're looking at those writers and telling them "you don't care about female characters and we love you for it" and calling that feminism. It's bonkers.

Other female characters in Marvel deserve this much attention if not more. Why not give it to them? Hell, I'm pretty sure we would all love to see Layla again, for instance. What about Sharon? Or Maria Hill. I wouldn't mind a What If with Carol or Valkyrie or more Wanda...

I'm definitely worried about Sam too, especially when it's Spellman (same guy as TFATWS) the one writing him. He was never given too much focus but at least the movies gave us enough that we could see he's a good man. The problem is I don't know if we're going to get something akin to TWS (so, the focus on Sam and some supporting characters showing up occasionally) or another CW (a team-up movie where the title character is sidelined.).

Sam was given the shield in 2019. It's 2024 already. And no cameos, no mention of him, nothing. When Steve was part of the franchise non-stop for a decade.

[yummygender]

Beyond The Timelines

A fix-it Loki series fan fic because WHAT THE FUCK MARVEL?!!

(Warnings: Magical Self-Harm, Sad Loki, Sylvie being an abusive bitch, and Gay se-I mean Lokius)

This starts after the events of the finale because I can.

Loki sat on the throne, alone in the tree of timelines he created. He had a throne…but he never wanted the throne…

‘I ONLY WANTED TO BE YOUR EQUAL!!’

The memories flashed in his head, horrible, horrible memories.

‘We will make you long for something as sweet as pain…’

Loki let his head fall into his knees as he curled into a ball on the throne, sobbing and shaking as his crown fell.

“Mobius…”

His face was red at this point as he wailed like a baby. He didn’t care how he looked. No one was around…he was all alone.

‘…you deserve to be alone and you always will be.’

“MOBIUUSSSSS!!!!”

He snapped as he wailed and screamed, the floor beneath him shaking as his outburst made his magic go haywire and crack the floor below him. The tears continued to fall as he eventually calmed down, only to summon a dagger and repeatedly stab his own arms. Tearing the green fabric as blood began to spill. Loki sobbed and cried out for Mobius as he began to regret everything.

“I WANNA GO BACK!! I WANNA GO HOME!! I WANT MY FRIENDS!!! I WANT MOBIUS!!! MOBIUS!!!!”

His screams and shouts echoed through the hallowed insides of the tree.

“…I want my Mother…”

He sat down on the ground in the fetal position as he sobbed.

‘Am I not your mother?’

“Yes…you’re my only mother…”

Silence echoed through the tree as the timelines continued to glow. It was awful…Loki felt awful. He sat there for what felt like an eternity, occasionally cutting and burning himself as he wiped away his tears. The more he sat there, the worst the memories got. Some were of Sylvie.

‘Love is Hate.’

Memories continued to flood, most of Sylvie being rotten and borderline abusive. Sylvie fighting him, hitting him, spewing insults, and even going as far as to pull his ear and drag him away like he was a child.

“She never loved me…she hated me.”

Loki had never really liked Sylvie, he hated her…but Mobius on the other hand? Oh, how he loved him. His smile, his shimmering eyes, the man was a saint. Loki adored Mobius…he wants him…he needs him. Loki conjured up his favorite memory of his…Mobius and Loki sitting in the little pie room together as they talked.

He continued to think about what happened. How Classic Loki died, how the minute men took him in and all in all…how this started. That elevator…that dreaded elevator. Standing next to Mobius. Loki was always with Mobius…even near the end.

“Mobius…I miss you…”

It was always those two together. Nothing felt better then when he was with Mobius. It felt horrible. He was alone…and he needed Mobius. He wanted Mobius…he craved Mobius. In his head it was nothing but Mobius.

Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius.

Constantly in his head. It drove him crazy as he gripped onto his hair.

Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius, Mobius. Mobius.

Loki began to sob loudly. It hurt. It hurt so badly.

Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius.

“STOOOOPPP!!!!”

He continued to sob loudly. He was broken…completely broken.

“Mobius…”

“Hey buddy…”

[foreverrandomwritings]

OMG congratulations!! I'll try to contain myself but be prepared for a few of these at least!

starting strong, skinny dipping even though it's much too cold w/ my love Phoenix

What's In The Honeymoon?- Part 5/5

Summary: This is my last installment in my short series "What's in the Envelope/Box/Plane/Vows?". This can be read as a stand alone however. I think it's fitting that @sylviebell was the one to give me the idea for the first part of the series as well as the last.

ALSO HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY SYLVIE💜

Thank you for being such an absolutely radical person and my favorite fellow Phoenix girlie💜

Pairing: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x afab!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, alcohol, smut, MINORS DNI 18+, one swear word, public nudity and that's it.

Word count: 1940

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist Series Masterlist

Landing in Porto was a huge relief. You had never taken such a long flight before. Your Wife had reassured you throughout the whole thing that she was going to be right there the whole time. She limited her bathroom breaks to make sure she was with you as much as possible to soothe your anxieties. She told you about how exciting it would be once you landed and got to start your fiveish day-long honeymoon.

You had both gone back and forth over where you wanted the honeymoon to take place until you decided on the slow paced city of Portugal. Natasha had found an airbnb overlooking the beach. The sites you had checked told you of the beautiful beach, the amazing culture and tasteful wineries. 

You hadn’t had a problem getting to your residency for the week. The cab ride over was spent staring out the windows. Occasionally one of you would mention something you saw and might like to do. Natasha made a list on her phone so you could go and look back at it later on. The both of you took the night to enjoy dinner at a beautiful restaurant before walking along the beach. 

As the night got colder you convinced your wife to get back to the airbnb. She was quick to agree when you told her what you were wearing under your clothes. She all but dragged you down the beach as your laughter filled the night air. She never failed to make you feel amazing. 

The first full day there was spent going out shopping to grab some souvenirs for yourselves and all the people back home. Then you went to a local market for food for the week. A winery made its way into your plans as you passed it. Noting it in the list to go back later after taking your food back. You spent hours at the beach before finally heading to the winery for dinner and a tasting. 

You enjoyed the night spent listening to the live band sipping on the different wines. Natasha had convinced you to dance with her at some point. You both swirled and twirled across the makeshift dance floor with the other couples both young and old. As a slow song came on she wrapped you in her arms and hummed along to the melody. You would never get sick of the feeling of being so close to her.

The next morning you were awoken to the smell of breakfast and coffee. You got up pulling on a shirt from the floor before padding out to the kitchen. You saw your wife standing at the stove flipping a piece of french toast in a pan before moving to cut up some fruit. You wrapped your arms around her middle resting your head against her shirt covered back. You both hummed at the contact with one another. 

Breakfast went quickly as you had barely been able to keep your hands off of her. She had moaned as you swiped your thumb across the corner of her lip gathering some whipped cream that had missed her mouth. You sucked your thumb into your own mouth licking the cream off of it. Your eyes remained on hers at the action and she was quickly throwing you over her shoulder and taking you to bed. She grabbed the can of whipped cream and bowl of strawberries that were sitting on the table as she went. 

“We’re gonna have some fun.” she said as she gently placed you on the bed. Your eyes lit up as you spotted the food in her hand. She tugged your shirt off your body before requesting you to lay down. Then she got to work dragging a berry across your skin and lapping up the sticky juices with her tongue. She had you writhing beneath her as she circled your nipples with the fruit. The cold sensation making your nipples harden even more than they already were. As the teasing continued you begged her to touch you. She replied by popping a berry into your mouth. You chewed it slowly as you saw her leaving a line of whipped cream from in between your breasts down towards your cunt stopping right before it. 

You shuddered as she licked from the bottom of the line up towards your breasts. You connected your lips to hers the flavors of strawberry and whipped cream clashing together as your tongues fought for dominance. Her’s won as it usually did. You slipped your hands under her shirt grasping at her breasts kneading them in your palms. She ground her hips down at the action moaning into your mouth. 

“Want you to sit on my face.” you begged her as you pulled back for air. 

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” she asked you teasingly as she ran a finger between your breasts. 

“Please, sweetheart. I really want to taste you.” you begged her again as the thought of her slick on your tongue blurred your mind. She seemed satisfied with that because she was working her way up your body before she was hovering above your face. You pulled her down brushing your nose across her clit briefly. 

Then you were devouring her. You lapped at her hungrily, desperate to pull an orgasm from her. Your legs were clenching together tightly looking for friction. She moaned loudly and slipped her fingers into your hair. She started rocking her hips against your face languidly as her orgasm quickly approached her. She had never been with anyone before that could get her to the edge so quickly. 

“You’re taking such good care of me. My beautiful, devoted Wife.” the praise had you moaning into her cunt, your cunt dripping onto the sheets below you. She clenched around your tongue as it harshly darted inside her. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair came up to toy with her nipple as she teetered on the presipe of ecstasy. Her head was thrown back as her orgasm waved through her. She slowed her hips until they were completely still. She climbed off you carefully, a groaning leaving her chest as she saw the evidence of her climax coating your face. You gave her a pleased grin as you licked your lips. You wanted to taste every last drop of her. 

“My turn.” she said simply before she worked your legs open and ran a finger along your folds. She circled over your clit with that same finger once before she was following it with her tongue. Where your tongue was frenzied and sloppy hers was slow and precise. 

She licked at you calmly, wanting to drag out your orgasm. You were already close and she knew that. One of your biggest turn ons was having her cum as she rode your face. So she knew that you were likely to cum within a couple of minutes. But she wanted to try to prolong it slightly. 

Your left leg came up to rest against her back nudging her impossibly closer to your cunt. You moaned as she lightly sucked your clit between her lips. She was addicted to the way you sounded. 

“Sweetheart.” you breathless moaned into the air, turning your head to try and dig into the pillow. 

She looked up at you from her spot between your legs. She could see your hardened nipples and the way you were struggling to hold back your orgasm. But you knew better than to cum without her permission. She tested you though as she sucked on your clit again. Your other leg came up to squeeze against her head. That was the last sign she needed to know you were right where she wanted you. 

As she gave your leg a squeeze with her hand you came undone. That rubberband of tension snapping as your hands gripped at the sheets and your toes curled. You let out a whine as she continued to lick and suck at your clit. As she pulled back she took in the sight of you laying on the bed. The image was something she wanted to ingrain in her mind for eternity. The rest of the day was spent giving each other countless orgasms until neither of you could move much. 

Thursday was your only pre planned day there. Going out on a boat to look for whales and dolphins and such. You had at one point stopped to participate in scuba diving. You took in the sight of life under the water. You spent the night indoors eating pasta that you had made for dinner, drinking a couple of glasses of wine. Before the night ended in your tangled up bodies in the sheets once again. The bliss of being newlyweds was all consuming.

Friday was your last full day there and you had decided to make the most of it. You spent your time crossing off things from your list. Sightseeing a few local places, eating at restaurants that caught your eye, going shopping along the vendor strip. You stopped and danced here and there when there was someone playing an instrument in the streets. As the sun began to set on the water you found yourselves sitting in the sand. 

The night had started to become cold and you were close to asking Natasha to go back to the house until she abruptly stood up. You looked at her questioningly. The look she had in her eyes was one of mischief and you knew nothing good was to come of it. 

“What do you want to do?” you asked her accusingly. 

“I want to go swimming.” She said with a toothy grin.

“Nat we don’t even have our swimsuits on or any towels.” You said as you shook your head. 

“Let's go skinny dipping.” You could hear the excitement in her voice. You groaned at the idea of getting out of your sweater and jeans to slip into the cold water.

“No fucking way am I getting into that water right now. It’s way too cold out.” You told her sternly. 

“Please baby girl. I promise we can get out if it gets too cold. Plus there’s no one around right now so this is the perfect time.” glancing around the beach you saw that she was right. There wasn’t a person in sight. 

“Fine.” you said as you stood up and started stripping your clothes off. She did the same as she squealed in excitement. 

Then you were running into the water, not wanting anyone to see you naked. You wrapped your arms around your wife as you both went neck deep into the water. Your naked bodies slid against each other as the cold water chilled your form. But Natasha looked happy so you dealt with it. You decided to stare up at the sky taking in the stars and the moon.

“Are you ready to get out baby girl?” Natasha’s voice cut through the silence of the night. You hadn’t realized your teeth were slightly chattering until she spoke. 

“Yes please.” you told her and she was holding your hand leading you back to shore. The both of you got dressed quickly before slowly walking back to the house hand in hand. As you laid in bed that night freshly showered you thought about the future you had to look forward to with the brunette laid beside you. Even though you were sad for your time in the country to be brought to a close you couldn’t wait to get back home and make a lifetime of memories with her.

A/N: A litte bittersweet to see the end of baby girl and sweetheart. But so happy to have finished this series, mark off something from my hundred celly and complete my first full week of posting something everyday for my pride month celly. Thank you so much @sylviebell for this ask and all the support you give me!

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @eternallyvenus

[kassandras-one-braincell]

ugh when is it my turn to have an irl kassandra i would do anything for her .

anyways what kinds of clothing styles, jobs, or just general day-to-day life (like their houses) do you think modern!kassie/eivor/soma would have?

Pssh, it's not like I've given this any extensive thought in the past or anything... That would be weird... Who would do that haha

I would let's go

Kassandra dresses like a dad who lost his passport in Tenerife on holiday and has been stuck cycling between the same 4 hawaiian shirts since three Tuesdays ago, but owns a few casual suits for work.

She's a historian and museum curator. Specialises in the history of weaponry, occasionally giving guest lectures on ancient swords at universities. Mention any type of weapon and she will not be able to stop herself from rambling about its evolution over the centuries.

Has a pottery wheel. You know that scene from Ghost (1990)? Yeah. Very reliable with the ladies.

Ikaros is her pet eagle, do not ask her how she manages to get him pet insurance because she may have lied about his species.

She has a vegetable garden (her pride and joy, this might as well be her child with how well she takes care of it) and a briki to make coffee with. Kassie always starts her day off with freshly brewed coffee the traditional Greek way, some bread and some fruit, which she always plates too much of because Ikaros likes to steal it.

She's a great cook.

Dozens of books on old weapons are dotted about her home and some (so many. so fucking many holy shit) model replicas because she's a fucking nerd.

You cannot turn a corner inside her home without seeing at least three family photos. Family includes Myrrine, Alexios, Barnabas, Herodotos, Markos, Alkibiades and Phoibe. Nikolaos is in prison for trying to yeet his stepchildren off a cliff.

Phoibe is her goddaughter who calls her "auntie" and Auntie Kass absolutely gives her the world.

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Eivor serves lumberjack realness. Flannels, cargo pants, work jeans, yes she has a tool belt, yes she looks a damn treat in it. All she's missing is the hard hat and the protective visor. The axe is in her workshop.

She wears glasses. This isn't up for debate.

Tattoo artist by trade and has a degree in literature. Her love for poetry knows no bounds. She specialises in black and grey realism and her pieces are breathtaking.

Speaking of poetry, her colleagues bully her mercilessly for being a "big old sap". She has fancy paper to write her poems up on, and a wax sealing kit for handwritten letters. She's old fashioned like that.

Technology is a demon she would rather not trifle with. 100% complains about the need for there to be an app for everything, but she does appreciate video calls so she can see her people.

As a hobby, she pursues woodworking and blacksmithing, sometimes selling her creations. She'd make the engagement ring she proposes to you with herself

Dwolfg (or Chewy, or Mouse) Nali and Dandelion Puff are all beloved members of her household. The neighbours' kids named them all; sometimes she babysits Knud and Sylvi, and of course Eira has to tag along.

Her fridge is full of boring meal prep (you better wife her up and cook for her) but her pantry? Brimming with baking supplies. Ma'am loves to bake. Sure, she eats a lot of grrr protein big strong macro gym buzzword meals, but she loves bread and cake. Big muscles but she likes to eat, so she isn't lean, I'm gonna stop before this gets unreasonably gay

━━━( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ)━━━

Soma, look, this is gonna be specific, but there's foundations for this in game (her metric fuck ton of rugs in the longhouse). She evidently likes fancy things. Her modern!AU occupation: owner and ceo of a sustainable luxury jewellery brand. Recycled metals, gemstones that are sourced/synthesised sustainably, everything is ethically manufactured and her employees are paid well.

She's from humble beginnings, so she does loads for charity and really enjoys quiet domesticated tasks.

Waistcoats and tie when she's attending businessy things, simple t-shirt or jumper and joggers when working from home. Outside, she wears a few rings that she designed.

Not a particularly great cook, but she's a mean pastry chef. She has a massive sweet tooth. Loves to start her mornings with a homemade croissant and a cappuccino.

There is a post-it note above her desk to reminder her to straighten her posture because she tends to sit like a fucking goblin.

Her home is pretty eclectic, which takes people by surprise given her organised manner. Lots of blankets strewn over the couch, lots of knickknacks she collected over the years, some sentimental ones from Lif and some ruder ones from Birna. A few sketchbooks are scattered about with designs for work.

She has a record player and an ungodly collection of country vinyls. It's okay. Nobody's perfect. It's what makes her human.

Also needs to wear glasses, but wears contacts usually because she insists the specs make her look "old", oblivious to the distant sounds of feral lesbian screaming whenever she puts them on.

[lokiinmediasideblog]

I used to think the people who call Sylvie "abusive" to Loki over the fact that she's occasionally rude or mean to him were just annoying, but after the D*pp Vs H*ard trial I actively hate them and want to punch them in the face. It's this watering down of what abuse means, that ignores key factors like power imbalances, coercive control, and the honeymoon cycle, that made D*pp trick the entire world into thinking he was the real victim with just a handful of out of context audios of Amber snapping back at him, even though she held no power over him whatsoever. It's this misinformartion about the nature of abuse, that reduces it to aggression in and of itself without contextual factors, that got people on his side, and when someone calls a female character abusive to a male character just for being rude to him THEY'RE HELPING SPREAD THIS KIND OF DISINFORMATION.

If anyone is a long-time follower of mine, you all would know I fucking hate JD for what he did to AH. The trial fucked me up so much and put me into a terrible mental state where and I could not avoid it. I feel like I constantly mention it in some rants. Those annoying as bitches need to shut the fuck up and learn what abuse actually is!

It pisses me off so much when Sylvie gets called abusive over:

Calling Loki "A clown" when they're both under duress and in a shaky alliance. He also broke the Tempad, which could have gotten both of them killed.

Kissing him and them pushing him through a portal because she didn't want him killed and to get him out of the way. This is not "playing with his feelings". Sylvie, like Loki, had goals for revenge for who knows how long! So, I am the kind of person that thinks Loki was justified in killing Laufey, and I also think Sylvie was justified in killing Kang. She should be allowed to have revenge too! I also think that her kiss was sincere on some level, and that her pushing him through the portal shows that she cares about him because she didn't want him harmed.

BECAUSE SHE TELLS HIM TO SHUT UP WHEN SHE IS SCARED AND NERVOUS OVER POTENTIALLY ENCOUNTERING HER NEMESIS. She's scared, ok? She's about to meet the person/being responsible for ruining her entire life! Of course she's going to say mean shit! ! People lash out over smaller things like being stuck in traffic.

None of this is abuse. They were two people under severe duress that had just met. One being threatened/coerced by the TVA into helping them, and the other had been running from the TVA since childhood. They started out on opposing sides just trying to ensure their own survival. Fighting when in opposing sides or shaky alliances is not abuse! It's self-defense and self-preservation! Yet they managed to care about each other in the end.

Loki HAS been abused (or heavily implied) by other characters either emotionally/psychologically or physically e.g. Odin, the Black Order, and the TVA (especially by another VERY popular character he gets shipped with and it gets ignored). I will elaborate if asked to do so.

But NOT by Sylvie. Unsurprisingly, I have seen Sylvie get more flack than Loki's actual abusers.

The same people that think a police interrogation is "therapy" will claim Sylvie's abusive for calling Loki a clown. And it does worry and enrage me sometimes...

[bereft-of-frogs]

@aurorawest tagged me in 20 questions and I am doing them expediently to make up for all the other tag memes I've forgotten about (sorry)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 91

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 807,565

3. What fandoms do you write for? Right now pretty exclusively Star Wars, but I had a solid MCU phase there, and have dabbled in Six of Crows, this show Into the Night (tiniest fandom I've ever written for, I think I make up about half of the fics in the tag even now), and I wrote exactly 3 Locked Tomb fics one time.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? 1. pain and other human sensations 2. bone and broth 3. like a tear on a cheek 4. never never quite touch anything 5. the undoing

(I'm starting to feel weird about those five because I...don't really think they represent my best work anymore but I also know due to a combination of luck and good timing (and unhinged persistence in one case), nothing else I write will ever touch them so...there they remain at the top perpetually...)

5. Do you respond to comments? I do! I try at least, during lulls in posting I'm usually not checking as much, and my current policy for the MCU fics is not to respond unless I feel like there's something productive to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I think it's a tie but one of them probably doesn't count. 1) apocalyptic appellations, also discussed below, basically ends with the darkest ending for one set of characters and 2) this one probably doesn't count because this isn't the last chronological scene, the narrative ends happily BUT because I chose to literal roll the dice and write the scenes out of order 'I feel like I'm borrowing all my time' ends on the angiest scene, which ironically got me stuck in a time loop because I'd get to the end in editing and be like 'hm. I'm sad now. Back to 1 to make myself feel better!'

Oh, also my first high republic fic - banishing the chill - ended PRETTY angsty if I do say so myself.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? This was really hard to pick because I feel like my MO is either to gently nudge characters back onto their canon plot, where terrible things happen, or leave them with even more trauma. Idk, I guess the dark ocean duology ended fairly well? There was a hug?? It only took like 40k to get there????? That counts maybe?????

8. Do you get hate on fics? Occasionally haha, I think I got a couple of the '#problematic' comments on old smut but it was more likely to be character hate mingled with hate comments? Which can be annoying like even with controversial characters I'm usually writing because I find something compelling about them, so it can be frustrating when people either flatten them down to 'they're the worst' or get mad at me for giving them motives other than 'cackling evil'.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Used to, sort of lost the ability to...

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Once. apocalyptic appellations. And it is pretty crazy. God, I love this crossover. I didn't write a lot in 2022, but I really like what I did write. Almost certainly my final MCU fic, it really felt like I went out on a bang. Loki series crossed over with the tiniest fandom I've ever participated in, for the television show Into the Night. Into the Night is about an apocalypse where the sun is killing people (#sun's fucked up cinematic universe) and a small group of survivors circling the globe on an airliner. One of the main characters is a helicopter pilot named Sylvie, whom I LOVE, and for months after the Loki series premiered I'd do a bit of a double take on any sufficiently vague posts about that-other-Sylvie. But then I thought it would be kind of interesting if her name was perhaps just another thing she acquired from one of the many apocalypses she lived in...

For real, I really do love this crossover, and I'm glad it was my last MCU fic.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of, lmk tho I guess!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? In a past life...yes. But that was a long time ago.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? I feel like...I don't really 'ship'. Idk, I have the occasional ship I'm into for a brief moment, but I'm really a Gen person so ships don't really stick with me, I can't really name an 'all-time favorite' because it feels so dependent on mood/story...

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I did leave one series dangling in the MCU that I will never go back to finish and I do feel bad about that. Sryy...

16. What are your writing strengths? I feel like I get a lot of positive comments about tension building?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I think I get too caught up in dialogue that I forget to describe what people are doing. Also repetition.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Eh, I probably wouldn't honestly, just keep it as like, narration. I'm not Tolstoy. My French is probably not good enough to write dialogue, I definitely don't speak any other languages well enough, and I don't personally thinks it adds to what I specifically write.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Ever, it was for something I don't want to admit to in the 90s, incoherent scribbles in a diary. Previous posting life was [redacted for teenage embarrassment]. Oldest fic on current account....is a crossover. I swear, I really don't usually write crossovers, but it was a kind of weird American Gods/Supernatural crossover. (I also NEVER wrote Supernatural fanfic, that was not the redacted one above, but I have always wanted to write this ONE Supernatural fic that's basically just about Dean learning to accept the inevitability of death through an exploration of death gods/afterlives. There are going to be footnotes. It will be so obnoxious but I WILL finish it some day.)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? I couldn't pick just one but I have a lot of love/often reread: spare me over (also proof/comfort that I've often had an inverse relationship between *my* personal faves and what gets the most kudos/comments, this is one of my lower kudos'd MCU fics, but it's one of my favorites), dark underground // violent sky (I'm real proud of that twist), apocalyptic appellations (and I'll KEEP talking about it--), I feel like I'm borrowing all my time (my one and only time travel fic), always proud of longer things that are plot-heavy (dark ocean duology, alone amidst the ruins, the current fic I'm posting: the station)

I'm too awkward to tag others because even though I LOVE being tagged I'm convinced I'm bothering people, but as usual: open tag! you want to answer 20 questions, please answer 20 questions!

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter fourteen

Chapter list

Sylvie

"Our fuckin brother eh?" grumbled Ada with a roll of her eyes. She was lying back on the settee in the original living room - the cosiest of the three which had now been built into the house apparently - one foot kicked up on the arm of the sofa, the other leg dangling lazy over the side.

I sat on the floor playing with little Karl who was still small enough that he could clamber up over my ribs and use my body as a climbing frame. It was a game I remember I'd enjoyed playing with John and Arthur when I was a wee girl too and it felt kind of funny to be playing it now as an adult.

"Fuckin dinlow," I agreed, "thinks he can shift us around like chess pieces,"

"Hmm," she agreed, "one day someones going to show him he can't play dictator forever," she said reaching down to hold Karls hand, "Don't let him trample you love you need those legs," she said trying to tug Karl away from my shins.

"He's fine," I said with a small smile, "he's still so tiny I can barely feel him."

Karl was giggling as he teetered and flailed trying to learn his balance as he stood on my thighs. Ada laughed.

"You must be joking Fen I swear the little rot get heavier every day," she said her smile glowing as she tousled his hair fondly, "looks more like his dad everyday,"

"Yeah," I said pinching the little boys cheek, making him giggle and snatch at my thumb, "he's got his smile hasn't he, your eyes though I think..."

"Our mams eyes," she said, "and mine and yours and Fens," she said, her smile lingering despite her sad sigh, "reckon every baby born into this family from now until forevers gonna have her eyes... The shelby curse just can't be lifted eh?"

I thought about my own streak of Shelby then, the dead hollow which had gouged my chest earlier that morning, the dark dead feeling which lined my ribs and left a pins and needles tingle in my fingers.

Then I looked at Karl, looked into his eyes and hoped it wasn't true. They were Ada's eyes though, and Ada was right. Everyone always said we had our mams eyes, so perhaps little Karl was doomed too.

I felt the tip of the sadness I knew I should have felt, like a paintbrush dabbing hesitant emotion over my chest. I knew exactly how I should have felt but instead of feeling the ache of it deep inside me, instead of really feeling it, instead I felt only surface level sorrow. A fleeting glimpse at the thought of feeling. And then just like that nothing at all.

"No," I said, "not little Karl, he's gonna be just right." I said already thinking of something else. My mind already preocupied with other things, other plans I hadn't really finished making. Things I should have thought through but had neglected to in my determination to simply make sure they came to be.

Isaiah had been standing quietly by the living room door, leaning back against the wall. His eyes watching me and little Karl, occasionally skirting the rooms perimeter. Every now and then he'd wander to the window sill and lean in the frame, watching the grounds and the drizzling afternoon. The gloom rolling in from the peaks. I knew what he was thinking, knew he was hoping I'd change my mind, lose this blinding determination and see some 'sense' but if he thought that was going to happen now then he clearly didn't understand our family as much as he thought he did.

"For gods sake Isaiah stop skulking about, you've got free will you know..." teased Ada making a lazy and dismissive gesture with her hands, beckoning him over so that he really had no choice. He might have been a bit of a cocky prat but he never defied Ada. I thought perhaps he was secretly scared of her... That or he was harbouring a crush on her that made it impossible for him to contradict her or ignore her. "Get that gun away, its fucking vile, guns around children... You know statistics say..."

"Got my orders Ada," he said with a sigh, taking one last look out of the window before he came to sit with me on the floor, "so you can worry about your statistics and I'll worry about keepin you safe..."

She laughed at that, a cruel almost spiteful laugh as if to let him know she didn't believe he could, or, that she didn't believe she needed him to. He scowled but he didn't argue, didn't let her see his irritation, just focussed on me and reached out to Karl offering him a finger to hold on to.

"From what exactly? Tommys already seen to it that we're kept locked away... Don't kid us Isaiah, you're here more to keep us inside than keep them out,"

I couldnt hold back my smirk, she was right and he knew it. Tommy could spin his story however he liked, with the perimeter guarded by Blinders, with all his high tech security doors and cameras, his panic rooms tucked deep inside the walls, all his escape routes too, Isaiah's job was less about defense and more about playing prison guard.

"Just put the gun away," sighed Ada, "I don't want Karl getting used to it,"

So he did, tucking it back into the waistband of his jeans. Karl not even noticing the weapon, too busy focussed on me, still trying to climb and clamber over the frame of my body.

"Careful lad," chuckled Isaiah, scooping him up when he saw me wince because the little one had unwittingly stepped on a bruise. I'd over stretched myself a week or so ago and had taken a tumble half way through class when my partner had placed my down and the muscles in my leg had quivered and given way. It happened more frequently than any dancer of my calibre was pleased to admit, but the humiliation of the scene had stuck with me and it was more that than the little stab of pain which had drawn the wince from me.

"You gotta be careful with our Sylvie lad, them ballerinas are made of delicate stuff y'know," he said letting the boy climb up his chest instead, earning himself a knee to the ribs that made him cough and crack a selfaware kind of grin.

"What about footsoldiers eh, whatre they made of?" chuckled Ada painting the poor lads cheeks a scarlet shade.

He shrugged it off, laughing as he played with Karl and watching him then almost made me feel guilty. He was trying his best to do everything right, trying far harder than either me or Ada ever had or had to. And tonight I was going to burn all his efforts to the ground.

But it wasn't guilt that gripped me. It was a dark kind of humour, I couldn't ignore how funny it was. The way we sat there playing innocent, playing with Karl, barely looking at one another, both of us knowing that everything I did was an act. Isaiah unable to call me out on any of my bullshit for fear of seeing the final straw snap.

"Where's Sunny?" asked Ada, "I heard her arguing with Tommy this morning, she still thinks she can go back doesnt she..."

"She's not stupid Ada," I smirked, "she knows she can't and its broken her heart... Its not the same fir the rest of you, your politics will still be there when all this is done and dusted, her spotlight will have been habded over to someone else... She's lost a lot, she's not sulking she's grieving... "

"If she goes back to London the Italians will snatch her up and do god knows what with her to get to Tommy... One lead role ain't worth it..."

"Well, I know that Ada... And so does Sunny, deep down, but she's allowed to be upset about it..." I said pretending to steal Karls nose, enjoying how he giggled and made little snatching hands to steal it back.

"It is a shame," she acquiesced, "god knows what she's been putting herself through all these years to climb to the top but..."

"The Italians would put her through worse," I shrugged, "and she knows it, she'll come round trust me, she just needs a few days to cry... You know what she's like, our very own Sylvia Plath..." at that Ada giggled and clipped me round the back of the head with one of Karls peter rabbit toys.

"Sylvia!" she grinned, "you can't say that!"

"Why not?" I grinned too, "I'm her identical twin... I'm exactly the same," I smiled though it wasn't exactly anything to smile about and I could see Isaiah glowering out the corner of my eye. Probably thinking of the conversation we'd had earlier. Probably remembering how precariously I'd placed myself in the open window. How determined and certain, how horrifyingly calm I had been when I'd looked him in the eyes and promised that I'd do it.

He didn't smirk or laugh along. Even when I flashed him a smile of my own and later when the sun was setting, when I'd argued with Polly about skipping dinner and retreated to my room, wondering where Sonya was because no one had heard a word from her since she'd stormed out of Tommys office that morning.

"She'll be with Bonnie," Isaiah had said thinking I needed reassuring she was safe. It wasn't that which bothered me however. I'd been hoping to steal her away from a moment. To let her know of my plan. How I intended to go to London myself and request Solomon's help. I knew she'd understand me and I wanted to give her the hope my brother had ripped from her that morning when he'd been so cruel to her. Whilst I was in London I'd try to pick up a little information about Freddie, find out if anyone he knew, knew about him and Sonya. If he'd kept her a secret then he was an honest lad who loved her as much as she believed him to. If he'd told a soul then it was as Tommy had said and her heart would be broken. But at least I'd be the one breaking it and I could be as kind as she needed, as gentle.

And at least we'd be certain. At least she'd know she could trust me. I didn't have any alterior motives, I wasn't trying to break her spirit so that she'd obey my every commabd as Tommy would be hoping for.

I was sure that if I could just speak to Alfie then he would understand our plight. I'd seen him around the opera house before, I knew it was the music he loved, the art. Not the girls as most of the sleazy old men who visited the opera houses were there for.

I'd never seen Alfie by the stage doors but I had been the one to water the roses he sent to decorate the dressing rooms every opening night.

I knew he'd empathise with Sunnys distress, I knew that if I could speak to him I could prove Tommy wrong. I was dead certain of it, completely determined to at least try which was more than could be said for my brother.

"You're such a fuckin liar," said Isaiah glaring at me as he closed my bedroom door behind him. The two of us alone together with his bad mood, "all fuckin day you've made me listen to you lying through your fuckin teeth..."

"Don't know what you're bothered about Isiah, morals aren't exactly anyones strong point in this family..."

"Thats your brothers Syl, it ain't you..you an Sonya have never been like that," he countered, his eyes dark, black treacle wounded and fixed on mine. I couldn't look away and I didn't want to either. He was showing me something he never had before. That Peaky boys had feelings too.

And maybe if that switch in my head hadn't flicked over I'd have smiled softly and apologised and taken his hand and been good to him about it, but it had switched and so all I could do was smirk, the veil still between us.

"Well don't get upset about it love," I shrugged, "people change don't they and Tommy really has forced my hand here," I said taking Pip my old toy mouse from my bed and ripping his back open with my teeth as I had done once when I was very young.

Isaiah watched me, that glower only growing more troubled as I pried the little toys fur open with my fingers and delved inside his stuffing. As if he was just a toy, one I'd never clutched to my chest or sobbed into as a girl.

I smiled triumphant as my fingers curled around the things Id been searching for, three rolls of cash tied with elastic bands.

"What the fuck love when did you.." started Isaiah his eyes growing wide probably imagining I'd stolen them from my brothers and that it was just more trouble I was dragging him into.

"When I was seven," I said, "so don't worry I think Arthur will be over it now..."

"You stole all that from Arthur when you were seven?"

"Uhuh," I said counting, not looking over at Isaiah as I gave him my short, sweet explanation, "it was dope money I think, so if anything he should be grateful I took it..."

"Yeah well," he grumbled, "somehow I can't see him thankin you..."

I grinned, a toothy, proud kind of grin, remembering how I'd snuck into my older brothers room and slipped my hand into his sock drawer knowing exactly where he kept his stash. I'd been watching him for several weeks and I'd learnt his whole routine by heart. I'd known exactly how much time I had between his departure to buy and take, and his return when he'd stumble back and collapse in his bed. I knew he wouldn't notice the missing cash until several days later by which time he'd only be able to imagine he'd spent the money himself on extra dope or a bit of something else to take the edge off.

Of course at such a young age I hadn't known the gory details, but I'd known enough to know when it was safe to take it. And I'd known enough to know that taking that money wasn't exactly wrong.

I'd stitched it up inside my little Pip that very same day and vowed to keep it safe for a rainy day. Not just a gloomy cloudy day when the streets flooded and stank of sewage and damp, but a rainy day when I really, really couldn't stand Small Heath anymore. When I absolutely had to get away.

Now this wasn't small heath but the sentiment remained.

"You saved that there all this time?" he asked cynically, "since you were seven?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, "it wasn't very difficult Saiah," I added deadpan as if the truth was obvious to anyone but me, "I moved half a country away less than a year later... Me and Pip have only been together a handful of times since..." I said with a smirk looking down at the little mouse left ripped open on my bed.

Isaiah didn't say anything then, just watched me as I gathered the last of my things. I wasn't exactly travelling heavy, but there were a few things I knew I needed to take with me, and a few things I was loathe to travel without.

As he watched me placing a couple of mismatched posessions into a bag, along with a change of clothes, a few pieces of underwear, an ipod and some headphones intended only for Alfie Solomons, Isaiah began to grow restless. As if seeing me move about the room with such cold precision purpose was making him realise it was real. As if he were suddenly being forced to acknowledge what he was actually about to do. That he was going to go against Tommy. That he was about to take me right down south into the lions den. That potentially he was going to let both of you get killed.

Every time he tried to say something he trailed off, got half way through the sentence and lost the heart. He knew exactly what he was doing just as I did. He was just filling silence, saying anything else he could possibly think of to stop him from saying what he really wanted to. Because he felt helpless up against the wall which was the "Shelby Curse" even if he hadn't quite realised that that was what he was up against.

Its difficult to argue with the barrel of a gun, no matter who its turned on.

I sat down on the edge of my bed with a satisfied sigh, lips together, slight downward curve, soft and relaxed. Too relaxed apparently.

"For fuck sake girl what the bloody hells wrong with you!" hissed Isaiah finally snapping as he snathed the little bag from my lap and cast it asside, "fuckin stand up, fuckin sittin there like that when you were threatening to shoot yourself in the fuckin head a matter of hours ago! How the hell are you just sittin there like that?" he was doing well to keep his voice down, I had to at least give him credit for that.

"Because it isn't time to go yet," I said simply, "and I'm not much of a pacer... Sunny tends to pace but not me y'know," I shrugged looking over my shoulder at the window I'd stood in that morning. Unable to keep the smirk off my face when I remembered how I'd held the poor lad to ransome. He hadn't been expecting anything like that.

"Yeah and when it is what exactly is it you think you're gonna do? Just get up and go aye?"

"We're just gonna go for a walk," I said, "lovely evening isn't it and Tommy thinks I've got a crippling infatuation for you..." at that I saw Isaiah's lips curve slightly, like something in his ego had been snuffed out. Like any upper hand he might have thought he held over me had been vanquished just like that.

"So he's wrong then is he?" he chuckled, his smirk tugging at his lips, confidence not exactly wavering.

"It's not crippling," I shrugged standing up and returning to the window without so much of a second glance at him. I was checking the lawn for one last view of my sister returning but the grounds were empty and I was forced to accept that I wouldn't be seeing her before I made my trip. When I turned back to Isaiah he was watching me expectantly, that frustration evident in his tight jaw, the glower in his eyes as he watched me with a building contempt.

"Shall we go?" I asked dropping my phone on the bed, knowing Tommy would be able to track us easily if I was carrying my mobile.

"Fuck sake," said Isaiah shoving his hands in his pockets waiting to follow me out the bedroom door.

The house wasn't exactly quiet and as we passed down the hallway I heard Polly on the phone talking to Michael, she must have had him on speaker because his voice was loud enough that I could hear both ends of their tense conversation. Her fussing and him growing tired, telling her he needed his rest, needed to sleep. Her saying she was surprised he could sleep after what had happened to him.

Ada lay docile on the sofa in the main lounge, a fire burning, her and Karl glowing orange as they dosed together. Perhaps she was finally burnt out after another losing battle with Tommy.

I didn't see any of my brothers before we made it out the front door but I could hear Arthur and John laughing and shouting somewhere down the hall and I knew the three of them would be sharing drinks under the guise of putting their heads together to fix the family predicament.

"We'll leave through the main gate, you can do the talking," I said taking Isaiah's hand in mine, entwining our fingers so that we looked intimately bound as we walked down the drive.

"Fine, whatever..." he replied, letting his fingers lock with mine but refusing to grip, sulking with me as we walked the long drive through the evenings haze, the mist slowly gathering in from the peaks and the heaths. "Where exactly d'ye plan on walking to Sylvia?" he asked quietly as we approached the gate, his lips a thin but self righteous smirk, like he thought he was catching me out.

"You're the brooding gangster Shiah, I'm sure we won't have to walk for very long," I shrugged knowing full well that he could probably hot wire the next Chelsea tractor we passed. I wasn't really bothered if the owner felt like making the donation or not.

"This is your bright idea love..."

"And you're the most important part of it..." I sneered back, the sweetness which gleamed on my expression as I stood on tiptoes and surprised him with a kiss to the cheek - more for Johnny Dogs benefit than his. He froze beneath my lips but only for a moment. His eyes wide for half a second before he heard Johnny's laughter and understood what I'd done.

"Sneaking about are you miss Shelby... you'll be in trouble if our Tommy catches onto any of this..." he warned though his smile and the amusement in his eyes told me that if Tommy did find out it wouldn't be because Johnny Dogs had been telling tales.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw us uncle Johnny!" I rushed out dropping Isaiah's hand, hiding my face behind my hands in embarrassment so that the older man only laughed harder.

"You're lucky its me out here and not your uncle Charlie!" he laughed, his rushed tone just threatening enough for bus to hear the warning in his teasing, "he'd have your bloody balls Isaiah Jesus!"

"Aye well," said Isaiah, "don't go telling him either eh Johnny..."

"Ahh your secrets safe with me lad don't you worry," he said still grinning, still believing himself privy to a secret and a joke at someone else's expense, "ha!" he chuckled, "young love eh, I remember it well eh, back in me youth..." he started too caught up in his story to realise we were slipping past him until it was too late.

I heard him call after us, something about us not being meant to leave the grounds, but neither Isaiah or I made the mistake of turning back so he was forced to hope we'd be back before Uncle Charlie came to swap posts with him for the night.

I bit back a smile, trying not to laugh so blatantly, knowing that Isaiah already thought me a sociopath after the way I'd treated him before. But when I looked up at him I saw he too was struggling to hold back a laugh at the old mans expense and, when we locked eyes we couldn't help dissolving into giggles at the stupid trick which shouldn't have worked but had. It wouldn't have worked if it had been anyone else trying to pull it off, we both knew that, and as we walked in step down the lane, moving quickly to make as much ground as possible before my brother could realise we were gone, we kept our hands held. Our fingers remained intimately interlinked.

[nostalgia-tblr]

oh and let me add that the lack of sylvie in s2 is also... a weird choice.

she is so important to everything that happened in s1, she was basically a protagonist, and her storyline is... macdonalds?

i guess it's fine, i see where they are coming from, but again, i'm left with this feeling that it could have been better, more interesting, more compelling.

and yeah, the whole clock having a crush on its' crestor wasn't even that weird. if they were going for really weird, introduce loki's monster horse child that he birthed himself after fucking an actual horse. or make victor fall for sylvie and start everything so that she would eventually come to him and rule with him. the clock thing was offputtingly trying hard to be weird but ending up being a mediocrity.

i was worried pre-s2 that they'd do a repeat of s1 and be all coy about whether sylvie was going to show up again, which they didn't *quite* do but it has very much placed her as external to the main storyline, as an occasional visiting antagonist rather than one of the core characters which they'd better stop because it annoys me!!! if i can watch however long on miss minutes's lovelife i deserve to see what sylvie's been up to and how she's feeling. the mcdonald's thing can absolutely work, but i need to see a bit more of her experiences and her view of things.

also, is mobius a bit too chill about everything or am i imagining that? his whole world has been upended and he's just like "i really love cake pie." maybe the issue is that by the end of s1 there's a few perspectives we care about and it feels weird to return to the early days of "this character only exists when they are talking to loki"?

i knew they'd drag the sylki stuff out as long as possible, and i don't mind that as long as it goes somewhere interesting or they at least fuck on-screen with miss minutes watching and heckling them.

also you're right, the clock should fuck a horse.

[thezfc]

Am I the only one who didn't really like the Loki show? S1 or S2? Everyone seems to be singing its high praises but I didn't think it was even among the better MCU showings of Phase 4. To me, it's mostly a slog to get through in order to get to the occasional good moments. It has some nice ideas and grand concepts, sure, but I felt like the overall execution was very flawed and incoherent. But that just might be me. What did you think of S2?

I agree with you. While there were good moments, it was mostly confusing and overly complicated.

I was really excited to like the character of OB but then I realized they just wrote him to explain, or at least try to explain, all the confusing timey wimey stuff and gave him no other personality.

Sylvie was and has always been pointless. I was screaming at him to just kill her bitch ass!

The other characters had nothing to do but stand around and look surprised or confused.

At least in this season we saw old Loki again. The one thing that they kept consistent about the character of Loki is that he really did want to connect with somebody. He felt like he was always second to Thor and the friends he had on Asgard only friends him because he was Thor’s brother and he never felt like his dad really thought him worthy so he did all that in the first movie to try to be worthy. Then his brain got all fucked up by being in wherever void he was in between Thor and the Avengers and he was manipulated by Thanos, but also thought if he could rule people he’d have a function(purpose) to his life.

So the fact that in the show he did make these friends and he did want to save their timelines so he could be with them and then figuring out the only way to do that was to sacrifice himself, then that was the goal and function of his life. It’s actually a good ending, it was just long, confusing trip get there 😆

[endofradio]

END OF THE WORLD

WARNINGS: a bit of gore, sylvie gets her ass beat by frank, also this deserves a warning just for being an emotional rollercoaster of a oneshot, also some blood vomiting’s gonna be happening here

NOTES: i’ve been on a bit of a writing spree. anyways, i’ve written multiple drafts of the future vampire frank scene for my fragments of fear fic, but i think this one might just be the main one. look, i am VERY indecisive. i am not responsible for any emotional damage this brings.

ALSO!!! sylvie will be referred to by “ava” in this oneshot. that was the alias given to her by lambert (i’ll have to mention that in her character bio that i posted on here i think i forgot to do that LMAO).

to make the reading experience a little more immersive or whatever, i occasionally included some gifs that visually represent the vibes of this oneshot i guess. i might start doing that when i post oneshots n stuff on here 😁

SUMMARY: the only surviving rat pack members, frank, sylvie, and joey stumble upon lambert in their mission to take down abigail. unfortunately, frank gives in to his lust for power and allows for lambert, who is now a vampire, to turn him. everything goes downhill from there.

WORD COUNT: 4,614 (jesus christ idk what’s possessing me)

TAGS: @shawsfinalgirl @blackwolfstabs @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @atcarpenter

likes, reblogs, and comments all appreciated!

————————————————————————

“What the fuck…?” Frank narrowed his eyes as he carefully took a step forward. He, Sylvie, and Joey had reached the storage room, only to find a man standing there with his back turned. Frank and Joey both recognized the man instantly — it had to be Lambert.

“Okay, what the fuck is happening, motherfucker?” Frank hissed, tightly gripping the wooden stake that was in his hand. The man turned around, and that was when Frank and Joey’s suspicions were confirmed. It was, in fact, Lambert. Even worse, Lambert was clearly now a vampire, too. His eyes were a piercing blue, and instead of teeth… he had fangs.

“Woah, what the fuck!” Frank exclaimed, quickly backing away. “What the fuck— he’s one of them!”

Joey pointed her gun at Lambert. “You set us up, didn’t you?” She asked, her dark eyes narrowing. “Take one step towards us, and I will shoot you.”

Lambert was unfazed by Joey’s threat, the smirk he momentarily had now fading. “That gun’s not going to do anything, I’m afraid. You can try, though, if you’re really that stupid.”

“Gladly.” Joey hissed. She fired her gun at Lambert, a bullet flying towards his forehead. To her dismay, he didn’t react. He wiped the blood from the “wound” to reveal that it had already healed.

“See?” Lambert smirked. “I told you that nothing would happen.”

“What the… hell…?” Joey attempted to shoot at Lambert a second time, but once again… nothing happened. Realizing he was at an advantage, Lambert took a step towards Joey, reaching to grab her by the neck and pinning her against the nearest wall. She looked at Frank with an expression that read, “do something!”

Noticing Joey’s worried expression, Sylvie looked up at Frank. “The stake,” she harshly whispered, “use it!”

However, Frank didn’t do anything. In fact, he ignored Sylvie, his gaze fixated on Lambert. Lambert took notice of the stake that was in his hand, his smirk growing. “I’ll make an offer.”

Frank raised an eyebrow, continuing to keep a firm grip on the stake. “The fuck do you mean?” He bitterly asked. “What kind of fuckin’ offer?”

“I know you well, Frank. You’d just love to kill that girl, wouldn’t you?”

Frank scoffed. “No fuckin’ shit!” He hissed.

“Trust me, I want her dead just as much as you do.”

Frank took a step closer towards Lambert. “The fuck are you tryin’ to say?”

“Don’t… listen to him…” Joey choked, trying to pull Lambert’s hand away from her neck. “Just… use the stake…” Frank only continued to keep his gaze locked on Lambert. As angry as he was at Lambert’s act of treason, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity at this “offer” he was willing to propose.

“We could kill her together, Frank.” Lambert continued, his smirk growing. “You and I both know you’ve always had a… particular thirst for power.”

Frank’s grip on the stake loosened ever so slightly. Lambert was correct — hell, his lust for power was exactly what turned him on to the world of criminals in the first place.

“You could join us, Frank. You could be powerful. You could have the entire world in your hands. You could be… immortal. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Goddamnit, Lambert had a point. His offer was tempting, and Frank was finding it difficult to resist it. Immortality, power… he would love to feel like a god. He used to feel weak. He was considered the family disappointment, always wanting a chance to prove himself to them.

However, he had promised Sylvie that nothing would happen to either of them. A pang of guilt came to the surface for a moment… but Frank quickly tried to push it down, replacing his guilt with coldness and apathy. This was his life, not hers. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

“Don’t do it.” Sylvie whispered. Frank could hear the hurt in her voice, and it brought back the guilt for just a moment. Just ignore her. Don’t let her get in your way.

Frank allowed the stake to drop to the floor, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Fuck it. Bite me.”

Sylvie froze. He promised, he fucking promised that nothing would happen. How could I be so fucking stupid?

She had placed her trust in Frank, only for it to be broken. She wanted to be angry, but she couldn’t bring herself to be. I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known.

Once Lambert released Joey from his grip, Sylvie ran towards her, helping her to her feet. “Are you okay?” She gently asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Joey slowly nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“What are we supposed to…?” Sylvie’s voice trailed off, and she looked up to see Lambert slowly approaching Frank. She swallowed nervously. “We… we have to get out of here.”

“We can’t.” Joey sighed. “All the doors are locked.”

“Fuck.” Sylvie muttered. “I forgot about that.”

Sylvie’s head snapped back up again when she heard painful screaming, and her eyes widened as she saw Lambert sinking his teeth into Frank’s flesh, pinning him against the wall. Panic was beginning to set in for Sylvie. She looked back down at Joey, who was still laying on the floor. “What the fuck are we supposed to do?”

Joey nodded towards the stake that was still on the floor. “We’re going to have to kill them.” She answered. “Grab the stake, Ava.”

Sylvie nervously glanced at the stake, then at Lambert and Frank. She slowly walked over to the stake, shakily picking it up before making her way towards Lambert, pointing the stake right at him. His back was turned to her, surely he wouldn’t notice… right?

Well, she was wrong.

Lambert released his fangs from Frank’s neck, watching with a satisfied grin as he slowly slid down against the wall. “Good, good…” He murmured. Frank’s skin was pale and clammy now, his eyes appearing almost vacant. He was right about to sink his fangs into his wrist to feed Frank his blood, when he suddenly realized that Sylvie was right behind him. Quickly, he turned around, grabbing her and throwing her against the wall with ease as though she was just a toy.

Sylvie tried to scramble to her feet, her ears buzzing as she felt her head throbbing with pain. “Fuck…” She muttered, reaching for the stake yet again. Lambert noticed her attempt, kicking the stake away from her before turning his attention back to Frank. All Sylvie could do right now was watch in horror as Lambert bit into his wrist, hovering it above Frank as the blood dripped down into his mouth like water dripping from a faucet.

Stop feeling upset, Sylvie. You didn’t lose him. He betrayed you and that’s his own fault.

Even when Sylvie tried to make herself feel mad at Frank… she couldn’t summon any anger. She used to hate him — where had all that animosity gone?

Jesus, she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. She wished this was all just a nightmare. “This… this isn’t real… right?” She asked, turning to look at Joey.

“Trust me, I wish it wasn’t.” She answered.

Sylvie glanced at Frank again, noticing how he was just sitting there against the wall with almost a blissful look on his face, blood dripping down his mouth. The sight was horrific.

Then, that almost peaceful expression turned into one of horror. He started to jolt and twitch, blood forcing its way out of his closed mouth, trickling down his neck and onto his tank top.

“What the fuck is happening to him?” Sylvie asked, slowly stumbling to her feet.

“I think it’s part of the transformation.” Joey answered, grimacing.

Lambert took a few steps back, and within moments, a violent torrent of blood started to spew from Frank’s mouth, spraying onto the floor. The whole time, his eyes were widened in shock as the dark crimson fluid continued to spray all over the floor. He staggered to his feet, and no matter how hard he tried to force the blood down, it just kept coming up. Sylvie forced herself not to look; the sight was too horrifying for her to handle.

The violent episode lasted for a few more seconds before Frank collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily. “Fuck…” He muttered. He started to weakly groan, before slowly stumbling to his feet. He noticed the stake on the floor, and a sly grin curled at his lips. He picked it up, and when Lambert wasn’t looking, he swiftly drove it right through his chest. In response, Lambert let out an alarmed wheeze.

Knowing what was going to happen next, Sylvie and Joey both curled up onto the floor, shielding themselves from the bloody explosion of viscera that followed. Once it was over, Sylvie quickly grabbed Joey’s arm. “We have to run, Joey.” She hissed. “Now.”

Before Joey could protest, Sylvie forcefully pulled her to her feet, attempting to make a run for it. They were stopped within seconds.

“Where do you two think you’re goin’?”

Frank was standing right in front of the pair, and he looked like a fucking demon, all covered in blood. Beneath his glasses, his eyes were a vibrant shade of blue. When he smiled, he revealed a sharp set of fangs. Sylvie just wanted to cry. Why was this happening?

Frank’s piercing gaze landed on Sylvie, and he feigned a look of disappointment. “Aw, are you tryin’ to run away from me, now?” He asked, his tone dripping with false offense. Adrenaline was rushing through Frank’s veins right now. He didn’t care about anything, at least in the current moment. In his current state, Sylvie was no longer the woman he had secretly been trying to fight his feelings for. He just saw her and Joey as prey.

Sylvie took a couple steps backward, her heart pounding. “You fucking… liar…” She sneered. As angry as she tried to sound, there was an underlying sense of vulnerability.

Frank persisted with his little façade of disappointment and offense. “Y’know, that hurts, you callin’ me a liar…”

“You… you promised…” Sylvie’s voice was beginning to break, her eyes welling up with tears. Once again, she had been betrayed. Somebody always seemed to end up hurting her in one way or another, and here it was happening… again.

“Promised what?” Frank scoffed. “I never promise shit to anybody.”

“You said that nothing would happen. You fucking told me that.”

Frank let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, did I? Well, you can forget about that.”

He took a step towards Sylvie, towering above her. She took another step back, her eyes slowly widening in fear. “Get the… fuck away from me…”

Frank could smell her fear, and for some reason… he loved it. “Look at you, all scared…” He murmured. Meanwhile, Joey was retrieving the stake, slowly advancing towards Frank. “It’s kinda cute, actually…”

“Get the fuck away from her!” Joey yelled. She was about to attack Frank with the stake, when he suddenly managed to take it from her. He grabbed her with one hand, using the other to drive the stake through Joey’s shoulder. She let out a scream of pain as she felt the stake going through her.

The sight caused Sylvie to finally feel a rush of anger. Right when she saw Frank release Joey, causing her to plummet to the ground, she was suddenly ready to kick his ass… or at least try.

“You fucking asshole…” She growled, angrily taking a step towards Frank. She was about to take a swing at him, but he managed to dodge her. He picked her up and easily flipped her over him. With all the force he used, she landed a few feet away from him face-first onto the floor with a painful thud. In all honesty, it was a surprise that Frank hadn’t broken her spine.

Sylvie weakly lifted her head up from the floor, noticing how wet her nostrils felt. She reached to wipe them, only to see blood on her hand. She let out a painful cough as she looked up to see Frank standing in front of her, his gaze cold. Slowly, Sylvie staggered to her feet, blood dripping from her nose. She could taste the metallic flavor, and it was making her stomach turn.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Frank sneered. “Y’know, you should probably run, unless you’d rather prefer to continue tryin’ to be a dumbass.”

Sylvie couldn’t believe it. Frank had just completely… snapped. He was an entirely different person, and it terrified her.

However, Sylvie still felt some spark of determination. Maybe she was being stupid, but at this point… she was just angry. She let out a frustrated scream and started to take out her rage on Frank, punching him in the chest over and over again. Surprisingly, he allowed her to do it, casually standing there.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he nonchalantly asked, “taking out your rage?”

Sylvie continued to punch Frank in the chest until all she could do was cry. “You bastard…” She whimpered. “You fucking bastard…”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Boo-fuckin’-hoo.” He grabbed Sylvie by the neck, holding her up above him as a demented grin formed on his face. Joey, meanwhile, was struggling to pull the stake out of her shoulder as she sat down.

“You’re pathetic.” Frank chuckled as he looked up at Sylvie, taking note of her bloody nose and bruised-up face. “I’m a hell of a lot more powerful than you, yet you’re still determined to kick my ass. It’s both admirable and idiotic.”

Sylvie squirmed and writhed in Frank’s grip, feeling the air being choked out of her. “Let me go…” She gasped, grabbing onto Frank’s hand. “Let me go…”

Instead of just simply dropping her as he had done with Joey, Frank threw Sylvie against the wall, watching coldly as she collided with it and fell to the ground, wheezing in pain.

“Ava, you need to run.” Joey ordered, letting out a sharp hiss of pain as she finally pulled the stake out of her shoulder. “It’s okay. I can handle him.”

Frank turned around to look down at Joey, before looking back at Sylvie. “I would say she’s right, but… y’know what? It would be less fun that way.”

Sylvie coughed painfully as she tried to get to her feet. She was beginning to feel increasingly hopeless, realizing she was at a severe disadvantage right now. She didn’t stand a chance against Frank.

“Less fun?” She repeated. “The fuck are you… talking about?”

When Sylvie looked at Frank, he looked like an entirely different person. It wasn’t him, yet it was. In a way, it was like he was possessed.

“You only continue to entertain me, Ava.”

Frank then sensed Joey slowly creeping up behind him again, and that was when Sylvie made a desperate run for it. She hurried out of the storage room, trying not to stumble over as she ran. Once she reached the main floor of the mansion, she realized she had to think fast. All the exit doors were locked, so she had no chance of escaping through them.

Wait…

Sylvie’s eyes landed on one of the windows that were near the front door. Perfect. Looking behind her for a moment to make sure that the coast was clear, she approached the door, deciding she’d try to open it.

It didn’t work.

“What the…?” Sylvie continued to try and open up the window, but to no avail. She was starting to panic again. Looks like I’m just going to have to break the window.

Frantically, Sylvie rushed to the dining room, pulling out one of the chairs away from the table. Slowly, she lifted it and began to make her way towards the window. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sylvie tossed the chair at the window, watching as the glass loudly shattered everywhere.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sylvie tried to climb out of the window as fast as she could, making sure not to cut herself on the shards of glass. Once she was out of the mansion, she began her escape into the nearby forest, occasionally looking behind her until she could only see trees.

STORY CONTINUES BELOW THE GIF.

The more Sylvie ran, the more she could feel her strength depleting. She was gasping for breath, and all it took was a stray tree branch sticking up from the forest floor for her to finally collapse. Her shoe landed on it, and she tumbled over, screaming in pain as she felt the branch go through her ankle. “FUCK!”

Sylvie grabbed the branch and struggled with it, trying her hardest to pull it out of her, watching as blood seeped from the deep wound and onto the grass. Once she finally managed to free herself, she let out another shriek of pain. The wound was only bleeding even more now. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She whispered, panicking. Jesus, she had never felt so afraid in her life.

How am I supposed to get help? I don’t know where the hell I am.

Sylvie was feeling significantly weaker, almost as though she was slowly beginning to teeter on the edge of consciousness. She was in so much pain. Her chest hurt, her body hurt… and her goddamn ankle was killing her now. She tried to stand up to continue moving, only to stumble forward and fall again. Her heart was pounding in her chest. This is it, isn’t it?

Now she knew what it felt like to be hunted down like a helpless animal. She felt like there was nothing she could do now except surrender, considering she was already much too weak to continue running. The forest was eerily quiet, and the only sound she could hear was her labored breathing.

As Sylvie weakly laid there, she began to replay various moments from her life, some of them involving Frank. If she could go back and change things, she would… but there was nothing she could do. She was going to die alone, wasn’t she? That was her very worst fear. She was going to die alone with the knowledge that she had lived a life of regret, and there was no going back.

Sylvie continued to lay there, closing her eyes as she hoped that some animal would find her and feast on her, put her out of her misery. She couldn’t believe it, but honestly she was wishing that Frank would just fucking kill her already.

Then, she heard faint footsteps, branches cracking with each step. Sylvie didn’t even bother to look up. She had completely given up by this point.

Then, the footsteps paused. When Frank saw Sylvie laying there all motionless, he was… confused. Seeing how frail and beat-up she looked… it made him feel that damn pang of guilt again. She looked dead, yet she wasn’t. His eyes wandered to her ankle, taking notice of the fresh wound there. It was flowing with blood, and the sight was making his mouth water ever so slightly.

Trying to shove down the guilt that briefly came over him, Frank slowly made his way towards Sylvie. Once he was right in front of her, he paused to look down at her.

“Tryin’ to play dead, are we?” He asked, his gaze emotionless. “Nice try. Get up.”

At the sound of Frank’s voice, Sylvie felt her heart start to race again. Still, she didn’t move.

“I said… get up!” Frank snarled. He roughly grabbed Sylvie by her arm, trying to pull her to her feet. She only fell down to the ground again.

“Don’t piss me off.”

Sylvie slowly opened her eyes, weakly lifting up her head to see Frank standing in front of her, his expression full of annoyance. “I… I can’t…” She croaked.

Feeling a rush of impatience and irritation, Frank grabbed Sylvie again. In an act of impulse, he threw her against the nearest tree, silently cursing himself for acting in such a manner. He watched as Sylvie simply just slid down, not even attempting to defend herself. For some reason, that bothered him even more.

“Why the fuck aren’t you tryin’ to fight?” Frank snarled, walking towards her. “C’mon, I know you’re capable of it. You tried to take a swing at me not that long ago…”

STORY CONTINUES BELOW THE GIF.

Sylvie tried to force herself to stand up again, before letting out a painful gasp and collapsing to the ground again. She let out a cough, droplets of blood spraying onto the grass underneath her. Frank simply stood there and watched her struggle, his mind switching between feeling genuine pity, and then cold, emotionless apathy.

“Kill me…” Sylvie weakly whispered. “Please… just… do it…”

Sylvie was completely surrendering to him, and the sight was… mildly alarming. To see her broken down and reduced to such a weak and vulnerable state… it was actually making Frank feel… well, he didn’t know what he was feeling, but it was almost similar to… concern. He was trying to suppress that feeling as much as he could, and it was getting increasingly difficult. All he could do right now was continue to snap at her. He was at war with his own confused mind.

“I fucking trusted you, Frank.” Sylvie whimpered.

Frank let out a scoff, rolling his eyes. “Trusted me? How could you be so fuckin’ stupid? Look at where that got you. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re… you’re right…” Sylvie swallowed.

“You should’ve known from the start, Sylvie. I’m the very last person you should trust.”

Sylvie could see her vision was starting to turn cloudy, and she blinked her eyes, only to see that everything was getting cloudier and cloudier. Time seemed to be slowing down, too. The words that Frank spoke were starting to sound like barely-intelligible gibberish.

“Why won’t you… kill me?” She weakly spluttered, wiping some blood from her mouth.

“Maybe because the sight of you all weak and in pain is more fun.” Of course, Frank was bullshitting. He didn’t know why he was refusing to put Sylvie out of her misery. Maybe lying to himself would help.

“Fuck you…” Sylvie murmured. “You piece of shit…” She could barely keep her eyes open right now. She was fighting to stay awake.

You piece of shit. Those words… stung. He didn’t know why. Why was he genuinely hurt by Sylvie insulting him this time? She had done it numerous times, and he found it amusing. Now… he was hurt. Maybe it was the fact he had truly fucked up.

Then, Sylvie’s eyes slowly closed, and her head lolled to one side. As Frank took another step closer to her, he could see how weak and exhausted she was, how hurt she was.

“Hey. Wake up.” There was a combination of irritation and a sense of urgency in his voice. Frank could tell Sylvie wasn’t just “playing dead” this time — something was genuinely wrong.

“What the fuck? Wake the fuck up!” Frank grabbed Sylvie by the shoulders, giving her a rough shake. Nothing happened. “You fuckin’… goddamnit!” He let out a frustrated yell, pacing around like a caged tiger. He looked at Sylvie again, noticing how she continued to remain motionless.

Frank wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. Somehow thinking it would wake her up, he grabbed Sylvie and slammed her against the tree again. “Why won’t you wake up?” He hissed, grabbing her again. He actually felt somewhat of a flicker of hope when her eyes weakly fluttered open, looking at him with a vacant stare.

“Stay awake, goddamnit.”

Sylvie let out another painful cough, blankly looking into Frank’s icy blue eyes. “It… hurts…”

Hearing how weak and frail Sylvie sounded when she spoke… Frank hated it. He was suddenly missing her insults, her snark… this wasn’t like her at all.

As the smell of the blood from Sylvie’s wounded ankle was getting stronger, Frank was finding it even more difficult to control his bloodthirst. His fangs were aching with the urge to just bite her already.

That was when he realized something.

Sylvie was clearly struggling to hang on, and Frank realized that if she were to die… he actually wouldn’t be able to handle it. He didn’t want her to die. He couldn’t leave her here. Why was this bothering him so much? He wasn’t supposed to give a shit about her. He used to see her as simply just a source of entertainment, nothing else.

Then, Frank remembered — he had been developing feelings for Sylvie, and feelings that certainly weren’t platonic.

If he turned her into a vampire, she wouldn’t be able to die. Nothing would be able to happen to her. She’d be just like him. He could see her fighting the urge to pass out every couple of seconds, and that was when he knew he had to fucking do something. In that moment, Frank had his mind made up. He had to keep Sylvie alive. For him.

That was when Frank leaned down, tilting Sylvie’s head back just a little to expose her neck. Then, he sank his fangs into her flesh. Maybe Sylvie did have some fight left in her, because she almost instantly started to squirm and struggle. To prevent her from escaping, Frank held onto her for dear life. Once he felt the metallic taste of her blood overwhelming his mouth, it was an experience similar to a drug high. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Sylvie tried to scream and fight, but the only sounds that came out of her were weak gasps. She dug her nails in Frank’s back, trying her hardest to pull him off of her, but there was no use. “Stop… please…”

Frank knew he was probably starting to drain a little too much blood, but he just couldn’t stop. The flavor was intoxicating. He was hooked. He kept draining Sylvie until the taste of her blood was ingrained into his mind.

Sylvie continued to gasp and wheeze, still trying to get Frank to stop, but she was getting even weaker. The more blood he consumed, the more lightheaded she began to feel. Once she started to go limp, that was when Frank snapped back to reality. He pulled away from Sylvie’s neck, her blood streaming down from his mouth. His eyes widened when he saw how deep the bite wound was, and how ghastly her skin looked. She was still alive and conscious, but only desperately hanging on.

“Fuck.” Frank hissed, looking down to see what he had done. He was starting to fucking panic — his plan had backfired, hadn’t it?

He could slowly feel his vampire form starting to go dormant, his fangs shifting back into teeth as reality began to sink in more and more.

He had to fucking help her.

Taking a shaky breath, Frank easily scooped up Sylvie into his arms, and made a run for it. As he dashed through the forest, he realized he had to get her the hell out of here as soon as possible. Never in his life did he think he’d end up doing something like this, but he couldn’t just leave her here in this bleak forest to die.

Maybe he was falling for her, and the realization was scaring him. No. I’m just gonna take her back to my apartment, nurse her back to health, and then let her go home when she’s better. That’s all.

That was all… right?

[commonpigeon]

i was like what the fuck type of english accent does sylvie have she for the most part sounds southern but occasionally sounds northern and then i googled it and shes from the midlands lol. sorry for my midlands erasure it will happen again

[mcloren]

top 5 f1 fics 🏎🏎 (or if you've already answered this top 5 non-f1 fics)

truly do not know what is or isnt in the spirit of this game so i'll do both! this took SO long. also i've tried my best to tag people's accounts if i know them, but if i've missed anything pls let me know so i can edit it :)

favourite f1 fics:

slow show by ambiguouspace -- the first f1 fic i read! so delightful and fun and lovely!!

myth of devotion series by @prettydangrotten & @rosyjuly -- i'm so hooked on this series and it makes me SO sad but i love it so much. i'm checking every day to see if there's an update it's so so good

keystrokes by @ladyeggplant -- i went on my ao3 history to see how many times ive reread it and honestly the number was like. significantly higher than 60, ao3 needs to get rid of that feature immediately it is deeply embarrassing. a perfect fic. i think about daniel getting his tie stuck in a printer so much

striving for goodness while the cruel men win by @misonikomi -- this is one of the best fics i've ever read and hands down the best rule 63 fic i've ever read. lewis is so beautifully written

good to you by @catofthecanals289 -- incredible, enlightening, occasionally i will reread from the party where max speaks to sylvie again just to get sad! normal stuff!

favourite non-f1 fics:

Good News (is on the way) by derryere (Merlin/Arthur)-- possibly the best fic i have ever read. it is incredible. no magic modern au that is so so perfect and has such a like. beautiful ending that is so perfect for the merlin and arthur they wrote

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson) -- one of the funniest fics i've ever read. sam gets jealous and so he pretends to have a superpower: talking to birds. and then he ends up actually being able to talk to birds. ridiculous and hilarious and lovely.

By Brave Assent by awkwardsorta (Dele/Eric Dier) -- apologies to my football oomfs but they were It :( rip dele he's not dead he's just playing in the turkish league. tb to the world cup when they were like. ridiculously and unbearably gay every time they were together. dele pulling eric out from the entire team after he scored the winning penalty so he could hug him on his own :( giving eric a shirt so he didn't have to do the postgame interview shirtless and trying to actually dress eric :( no one did it like them

Dying to Return by StormDancer (Merlin/Arthur) -- another merthur fic i'm sorry i love them :( this is so good and lovely :( merlin's cool as fuck in this too

depending how you feel about baseball by theundiagnosable (Kyle Dubas/William Nylander) -- i am an absolute sucker for both amnesia fic and also pairings that really play up the power dynamics aspect and this does both SO well. theundiagnosable a genius of our time etc etc. also one of the few hockey rpf fics i still reread

[onewomancitadel]

Saw someone else express my (apparently deeply unoriginal) sentiment that if living redemption enemies-to-lovers is so 'overdone', where is it, and the solitary response (in a populated interaction) was 'Loki/Sylvie' from the Loki television show. That was it.

Don't continue reading if you're a Loki/Sylvie fan lol. Not using an anti tag because people will be scouring those for different reasons from me lol.

I'm going to be a little mean and say that dynamic was made possible because a) Loki is the protagonist and no longer structurally an antagonist, b) there's kind of the implication that Loki is a narcissist going with the diva characterisation (I don't care how the pairing is actually characterised, it takes self-love way too far that it's not even a metaphor anymore, it's actually deeply depressing - the idea that the only person who can understand Loki is solely Loki is not the type of thing I enjoy at all; it literally the opposite of my ideal romance which is perhaps best expressed by For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known), and c) it's not even very good anyway.

To circle back around to the first point, the romance between two morally gray characters and a corrected antagonist/occasional ally to protagonist basically 'makes' the enemies-to-lovers romance okay; tonally it's the sort of thing we might expect for Loki (his romances can be complicated). Idk, it definitely doesn't scratch my itch for anything hero/villain related.

Notice how I didn't talk smack about M/arvel once! I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt for the sake of the argument even if they can never be truly radical.

By 'enemies' I don't just mean false tension or hatred; there actually has to be discord, enmity, and the general assumption one or the other will kill the other or will be killed by each other's sides. By 'redemption' I also don't mean 'mean man becomes soft/reveals he had a mean mummy or daddy who made him emotionally stunted so he was really good all along'-type reversion, but actual character change and coming to challenge their own worldview.

So some may say that these ideas are 'common' because weaker, improperly named and ill-defined versions of them persist, which are then used to argue why actual enemies-to-lovers ships and actual redemption are 'overdone' because they don't know what they're fucking talking about.

It really is damnably scarce out there. Like, actual paradigm shift stuff just almost doesn't exist.

[buckys-metal-arm]

I've noticed an influx of followers coming from my "Flerkitten Alpine" and "Sam and Carol are Besties Now" posts so I just wanted to introduce myself!

I'm Kestrel or Kes, Im BiAce and use they/them pronouns, and I just turned 25 earlier this month. This is a side blog, and my follows will come from @/the-kestrels-feather.

I'm a Bucky Stan so this blog is gonna be mostly Bucky Brainrot Content (sorry in advance) and my other favorite characters include Captain America (both of them), Thor, Valkyrie, Sylvie (fight me), Loki, and Kate Bishop.

I pretend Endgame doesn't exist for my own mental health (Endgame Steve is not canon it will never be canon and no one can tell me otherwise).

My top 3 MCU D+ shows are WandaVision, Hawkeye, and FATWS/Loki but Only S2 in that order

CATWS will always be the best Marvel movie I will not take criticism, but after that are Black Panther/GOTG 3, and Thor:Ragnarok/The Marvels (I know that's more than 3 but consider i love them)

This is a Marvel blog 99.99% but I occasionally rb Invincible, The Boys, and the very very occasional DC post to this blog. I try to keep them under the tag #not marvel but as long time followers will tell you I'm not the best at remembering to tag so expect 1 or 2 slipping through if you block the tag

As much as I love the MCU I also really fucking hate the MCU and I feel this is the only way to enjoy it, this comes from a friend who has the same view on SW

I routinely make jokes about hunting Kevin Feige for sport or fighting him in a Denny's parking lot so if you're looking for a Kevin Worshipper this ain't the blog for you.

Pretty much all my Marvel knowledge is MCU based, I know a bit about the comics and even have some but I haven't started reading in earnest yet because tbh the sheer volume of them intimidates me. That said I rb a lot of comic panels

I read Bucky x Reader content and reblog it here I do not care what you think about it if you don't want to see it I recommend not following me 🤷🤷

Oh, I'm also a props artisan by trade, I work at a high school in their book room right now, but it's my dream to move to Atlanta and work in theatre and film. My big dream is to work as a props artisan for Marvel! Occasionally I make Marvel-related things and post them here!

This is my favorite thing I've made, it started as a $5 sketchbook that I painted myself!

I think that's everything you need to know about me, but yeah welcome! Happy to have so many new people here! 👋👋