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bluewaltz · 2 years

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🐋 — [ Tartaglia. ] 👤 — [ gender neutral reader. ] 🏷️ — [ enemies to lovers, good ending, fluff. ] 📜 — [ fic. ]

You had a mission. Kill the Eleventh Harbinger, through any means necessary.

You had heard the tales. He's a monster, a killing machine that brought with him devastation and ruin. The Vanguard of the Tsaritsa, and someone who crawled out of the Abyss.

It was insanity. Your higher ups must have known that sending one person to kill Tartaglia was a death sentence. But you would carry it out, regardless.

You didn't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't this lanky, awkward young man, talking with the confidence of a Harbinger. Your organisation had managed to sneak you into the Fatui as a new recruit, and you had been posted to Liyue, which was apparently under his jurisdiction.

"I wish you all glory; glory to the Tsaritsa, glory to our motherland, and glory to yourselves. Dismissed. Your captains will tell you what you will be doing, and Y/N? A word, please?"

You pushed past the crowds, uncaring of how all eyes were on you. Tartaglia was waiting for you, a small smile on his lips. Again, you wondered how he could seem so young.

"You weren't listening at all, were you? Did I bore you?" Tartaglia leaned forward, his tone one of mild curiosity.

You fought the urge to reach for your weapon, instead focusing on keeping your breathing even.

"No sir. Sorry sir, it won't happen again." You replied crisply.

To your surprise, Tartaglia threw his head back and laughed like he'd heard the joke of the century.

"Sir? Why so formal, recruit? Call me Childe; everyone here calls me that." Tar- Childe said, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Understood, Lord Childe." You said carefully, testing the word out on your tongue.

Childe clicked his tongue, looking pleased. "Okay, that's a start. I know exactly where you'll be working. Katya!"

A Fatuus hurried over, turning to Childe.

He turned to you with a conspiratorial grin and whispered loudly, "Ekaterina here takes care of the shady side of things at the bank, so I can go out and play Harbinger without the metaphorical blood on my hands."

"Need I remind you of the times you appeared in the bank with blood all over you, sir?" Ekaterina replied drily, and you noticed that she didn't seem to use that reverent tone of respect most recruits did.

"It's just blood, and it wasn't mine."

"Blood doesn't wash out of carpets easily, and you're lucky it was closing time then." She turns to you, and despite how her face was obscured by the mask, you got the feeling that she was sizing you up.

"Is this who you want, sir?"

"Give them an office at the bank, okay? I'll be going now, I just came back from Inazuma!"

The two of you watched Childe hurry away, his figure shrinking into the distance.

"Good luck."

"What?"

Ekaterina turned to you, her voice dripping with pity.

"Childe isn't an easy boss. Come with me."

Your days at the bank were long and dreary. It wasn't so bad, but there was a lot of work to be done. Mostly it was just the Qixing nitpicking some small detail or other, and your days were filled with passive aggressive letters insisting that the other party was far too kind, and that you would remember this.

All well and fine, until Childe crashed into your office like a dust devil.

"Y/N, can you fight?"

Your first thought was that the bank was under attack. Your second thought was that your cover had been blown, and your hand twitched towards the polearm that always remained just out of arm's reach.

"A little. I'm not too good at it, though." Technically not a lie, since you specialized more in subterfuge and assassination.

Childe seemed appeased by this response, gesturing for you to follow him.

He left the bank at an easy pace, exchanging greetings and words with people on the street. Vendors seemed particularly enthused to see him, and some even asked him where their "source of income was", whatever that meant.

He always replied with a sunny smile, and more than a few times you had to remind yourself that this was a bloodthirsty creature you were dealing with.

He brought you to a wide, empty field, and you suddenly remembered something.

Being the secretary of the Eleventh Harbinger, you heard things.

Things like how he would wheedle his way into spars with recruits, and he would always leave the field looking refreshed while the recruits all looked haggard.

To be picked for a spar with Childe was to have all the flaws of your technique pointed out with a smile. But it was also a good way to see how he fought.

So you let him tug you into position, and you watched as he pulled his bow into existence, seemingly giving you the first move. Not one to let go of an opportunity, you dashed forward, drawing your sword and aiming for his chest.

You longed for your polearm, but it was unwise to show your hand so early. The sword was shorter than what you were used to, but it would be fine.

Childe sidestepped, using his bow to send quick flickers of water at you, throwing you off. All the while, he was watching you intently.

You kept attacking, and he kept dodging. This frustrating game kept up until his face lit up. Then, with a casual gesture, your sword went flying out of your hands.

"You've got a strange style," Childe commented, catching your sword and inspecting it. "I think you would be more suited to a polearm, not a sword. Or, you were trained with a polearm, anyway."

"You barely fought me." You gritted out, glaring at Childe.

He shrugged and passed your sword back. "I didn't have to."

And just like that, another event was added to your repetitive routine. Paperwork, think of a way to murder Childe, and occasionally, indulge him with a spar.

When you took out your polearm and fell into a familiar stance, Childe's eyes lit up, and he actually did trade blows with you this time, though you could tell he was barely using his strength. But he disarmed you easily enough, which put an end to your plans of facing him in head on combat.

You wondered if he checked his food for poison, but then you dismissed it. Too risky, and if he didn't die, he would know who you were, and the mission would be ruined.

As you plotted in circles, you became aware of Childe's tells. How he lied, how he smiled when he never meant it. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and you wondered how anyone could fail to kill this bumbling man.

Childe's behaviour was becoming erratic and strange. Some days, he would be cheerful and bubbly, always chatting incessantly and overly generous. Those were his most common moods.

But recently, he had been moodier of late. More volatile, easier to provoke. He lost more of his spars like that, but he didn't seem to really mind. In fact, he seemed happier after those defeats, often treating you to a meal.

It happened during lunch. The two of you were at Wanmin, and Childe was regaling you with a particularly tall tale about a sea snake and a fishing rod when suddenly, his hand shot out.

Your head was snapped down, and Childe let out a hiss of pain. You scrambled out of your seat, looking down at the neat round hole burned into his arm and the smoking bullet bobbing in your soup.

Childe stood up, ignoring how his arm hung limply. His eyes were cold and dead now, scanning the rooftops and balconies.

"Lord Harbinger-"

"There." Childe hummed, and in the blink of an eye, something zipped past you. You only survived because he wasn't focused on you, but you felt the touch of electro-charged water against your cheek.

Electro? But how did he…

"Y/N, we have to go."

This was your chance. He was injured and distracted, you could easily plunge a fork or your knife into his chest and shock his heart to a standstill.

You grabbed his bleeding arm, ignoring the startled hiss. Of course he'd forgotten about the wound.

"Lord Harbinger, you're injured. Perhaps you should recuperate before tracking them down." You murmured. "People are looking."

"Fine." He snarled, summoning some Hydro to wipe up the blood and pick up the bullet.

He didn't let you touch him all throughout the walk back to the bank, and when he reached the bank, his murderous expression kept people from asking after his arm.

You retreated to your office to get a medical kit and returned to Childe surveying the bullet, turning it this way and that in its watery prison.

"Interesting build." Childe's voice was conversational, and you pulled up a chair to him and started working on the wound.

"What is, sir?"

Childe made a dismissive noise. "Just call me Childe. And I was talking about this bullet. It has been imbued with pyro energy, so touching it would burn very badly."

You tried to school your expression. That sounded like the work of your organisation. Bullets that cauterized the wound as it went, with a dense knot of pyro energy that would dissipate after a while.

But why would they steal your kill? You were promised Tartaglia. This didn't make any sense, so you just made an affirmative hum and continued to bandage his arm.

"Is that all you got?" Even pinned under your weapon, Childe still had that cocky light in his eyes, and he pressed his throat closer to the tip of your spear. A spar. that was all it was supposed to be, until he let slip that he knew your intentions and all of a sudden, it had become far more dangerous.

"Come on," he cooed. "You can kill me right here, right now. Unless you like seeing me helpless like this?"

"Shut up, Harbinger."

Childe sighed heavily, sounding very put upon. "I thought we were getting along swimmingly. What's with the sudden change in attitude?"

"Don't play dumb."

Childe snickered. "But it makes you so mad."

"You're not scared?"

"Why would I be afraid of you?" He cocked his head, sounding genuinely confused. "You were a spy sent by an organisation to do an impossible task. But you still tried anyway. Isn't that enough?"

"I-"

"There's no use arguing." Childe pushed your spear away from his throat and sat up. "I did my research; the organisation simply wanted an easy way to get rid of you."

You gritted your teeth. You had long suspected it, but hearing it laid out so simply… it stung. Discarded like an old tool in order to make way for others.

"So? Are you going to kill me now?" You asked.

Childe burst out laughing. "Ha! I'm not letting myself get used like some attack dog for an enemy organisation. My loyalty belongs to the Tsaritsa alone. Of course I'm not going to kill you."

"What?" You were baffled. Was he really going to let an enemy live like that? But Childe didn't seem to sense your disbelief, his brow scrunched in an adorable furrow.

"I don't see why I need to kill you. Ekaterina already spent so much time training you to be my secretary, and it'd be a shame to put all her hard work to waste."

"I…"

Childe grinned. "Of course, you can still try to kill me. But I will try my best to continue thwarting your efforts."

Well. Who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth?

#🖋️ — [ outgoing. ]#tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #gender neutral reader #childe x gender neutral reader

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gingerlee-holds · 11 months

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March 4th, 1745.

Here is part two to the Fernsby Journals! there isn't anything very twordy, aside from a few scribbled-out hints, but I'm really liking where this is going heehee! This is mostly to establish the character of Mr. Fernsby, so I can "mess about with him" later on! I hope you all are enjoying these so far - it's very fun to write in his voice, all Victorian-like (even though technically he precedes the Victorian era by a century). I've also retconned a few details to make what I have planned make more sense! And oh, I have so much planned. Stay tuned!

Word Count: 605 Reading Time: ~4 minutes Warnings: Again, un-proofread- also mention of death, but its brief

I have made remarkable progress, indeed! Over the course of the past year, I have devoted myself to the mystery of what I have aptly named “featherflakes.” No historical record exists of them in the past eight centuries, and prior to that, there was hardly anyone literate enough in the whole isle of Great Britain to record such an event. However, there is one (albeit unreliable) manuscript from a monk in Talley Abbey, yet he ascribed the featherflake phenomena to angels from heaven. I believe there is a more… worldly explanation.

Nevertheless, it must lead somewhere, and I’ve been yearning for a trip to the countryside. During most of the year, I reside in a modest apartment in Newcastle-under-Lyme, fervently researching whatever subject may garner me income to know about. Until last year, it was Scottish tax law, and I was looking into an advisory role in Northumbria; then, featherflakes abruptly disrupted these plans, compelling me to entirely realign my focus. What were these vexatious little things, I wondered.

Fortunately, I am now on my way to discovering the truth of this strange featherflake phenomenon. I have hired a carriage, and I am traveling to the estate of a cousin of mine. It will take a week until we arrive, and when I do, my cousin is more than willing to lend me his guest house to research in. This trip shall give me ample opportunity to write in this new journal, so I’ve packed an abundant supply of inkwells and quills. They tickle my palms terribly whenever I pull one out of my luggage.

I would be remiss to not introduce myself. My name is Eren Thomas Fernsby, and I hail from a staunch intellectual family in the world of philistines. Lord Philip Fernsby, my father, has acquired vast wealth in his Parliamentary position, allowing for my family to live comfortably. Consequently, though, he rarely visited the manor where I was raised. My mother was a countess from Cornwall, yet she tragically passed away three years ago to consumption. Before her death, she had given my lord father nine sons and four daughters. I am the youngest son, and aside from my little sister, Alice, I am the youngest child. Unfortunately, this led to many times where my older siblings would tickle mess about with me. I am the smallest boy, and I was told all my life that my diminutive stature and weak physical abilities would lead to an unimpressive man.

I shall prove them wrong.

Now, to describe myself. I have pale skin sprinkled with freckles, and a messy head of curly black hair. I am particularly prone to blushing, casting my entire face in a bright pink. I have a pair of brass reading spectacles gifted to me by a professor when I graduated with honors from my university. These small reading spectacles are never far from my face, as I ensure I have a book with me at all times in which to bury my nose. I am particularly partial to tweed - however, I know that is beginning to fall out of fashion, so I wear mostly corduroy now. I dress warmly, with a forest-green scarf and dinner jacket, but I never forget my tie.

It has been a long while since I’ve seen my cousin. In fact, it has been a long while since I’ve been out of town. I think this outing will be good for me! I’ve spent far too much time in my cramped study bent over dusty tomes; a holiday to the country with some fresh air will do me well.

It appears we’ve stopped to rest the horses. I believe I’m going to ask the driver if I may feed them! I’ve always loved horses. I’ll be sure to write in my journal about the following day’s proceedings!

(The horses ended up licking his face, but he didn't write that down)

Read the previous entry in The Fernsby Journals! Read the following entry in The Fernsby Journals!

#the fernsby journals #kayde wrote something woah #kayde's in a lee mood tag #eren fernsby #oc fic #ss2k23 warm up

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coruscqte · 3 months

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Character Details

There are many commanders of the Xianzhou Luofu Cloud Knights, but there is only one Zhenyan. Arguably peerless with a precise blade and a talent for strategy, she is responsible for a special unit of the Knights and has lead many successful missions into mara-struck territory. It isn't known what species Zhenyan is, as her name can be found dating back nearly a thousand years as a Knight herself -- many simply believe her to be a previous child prodigy shrouded in mystery. It isn't as if anyone can disprove it, and she keeps her past close to her chest.

Character Story Part I

(unlocked at Character Level 20)

Entry #4760. Date: ???

Today has been a busy day for the Cloud Knights. Zhenyan was requested to attend the annual academy graduation alongside some of the other commanders, and met many different families and their new Knights. It's loud, bright, there's an excitement in the air that is almost foreign to her. They are young, fresh-faced, just under or over a hundred years old at this point. Still not quite adults, but old enough to act as guards to various places on the Luofu and beyond. Each one is talented, some beyond their years as they are recognized as such. Sorting will be later, into different units.

Their faces still retain some of that childhood fat. Their smiles are kind. Eyes are still sparkling. If she checked, she thinks she would find them still wet behind their ears. They look up to Zhenyan, they thank her. Some look forward to training more under her. She is honest, tells them that they likely will never end up under her direct unit. Not for lack of trying, but because her unit is handpicked, and none of them have met her qualifications. Xiayue reminds her to be kind, encouraging in a whisper just next to her. A nudge to her ribs. After all, today is a day of celebration, and there's little reason to accidentally break their spirits.

What she would do without Xiayue to guide her interactions sometimes, she is unsure.

Though Zhenyan hates to lie, she does fix her face, and encourage the new graduates to work their hardest. To strive for the stars. One day, they may find her as their master again, and she will be pleased to work with them.

When the pair of them leave the ceremony, Xiayue asks if she truly wishes to add to their unit. The squadron that feels more like family, these days.

Zhenyan is unfamiliar with the feeling.

She admits she doesn't know.

Character Story Part II

(unlocked at Character Level 40)

Entry #4101. Date: ???

A long meeting. It drags by, every half an hour is another half an hour that she could be training, honing her mind. Doing anything but being here. Her hands are in her lap, still. Warm, as she flexes her digits and carefully fixes her posture. Zhenyan sits to the left of another commander, a Foxian with their hair tied up high, their name a fleeting memory. She sits to the right of another Foxian, their hair cropped short. It isn't as if she can remember their's either. A terrible habit.

They keep their distance from her, chairs pulled one direction or another. Though they wear the same uniform, fly the same colors, fight for the same ship, Zhenyan is not offended. It isn't unusual for people to be wary of her. She may be the same rank as them, older than them by quite a few centuries even, but she knows her place. Were it not for the previous General, she wouldn't be sitting here, and knows far better than to make a fuss about seating arrangements. At least the current General seems equally tired of this meeting that could have been a correspondence, from where he sits at the head of the long table, with one of the generals from the Alchemy Commission quite enthused to report on their plans from the last few months.

When she is spoken to after the meeting, it is by the kind Commander from the Divination Commission. Another native, like herself. She is impressed with her most recent excursion, even if her hands shake in front of her. Zhenyan affords her the same aloof conversation, talking more tactics than the small talk this commander attempts -- it's difficult to understand why people enjoy this sort of topic. Hard to engage with, harder to understand why they're asking. Eventually their words peter off into nothing, and they return to work.

So she sits, time ticking by. After all, that is all it does.

And at least she spends it free.

Character Story Part III

(unlocked at Character Level 60)

Entry #3629. Date: ???

Zhenyan walks the path towards the Ten-Lords Commission.

She is hand in hand with one of her soldiers. They are young. No, they are simply younger than her. It isn't a difficult achievement, but she feels they still had so much time ahead of them. Almost four hundred years with the Cloud Knights, and now they are listless. Grey hair throughout their head, a tired gait in their bones. Where they once went toe to toe with her, it feels more like she drags them about now.

They ask questions about their lessons. About their form. About the weapon that had broken while they were in the field nearly a hundred years prior. Whether that one lost little Foxian girl would be okay, from nearly four hundred years ago. Sometimes they stop, crouching down to clutch their head. The pain of being unable to stop the corruption of their own body and mind. The long-lived natives of the Xianzhou have long since lost the blessing of Yaoshi since beginning to follow Lan, and their immortality comes with consequences.

Zhenyan looks at her own hands. Callused, scarred. They've seen a world beyond this person's years. But untouched otherwise after a millennia. She hasn't aged.

Perhaps then, it was never truly a blessing at all.

Character Story Part IV

(unlocked at Character Level 80)

Entry #112. Date: ???

Sunlight still feels so new. Her wrists are light, lighter than they have been in centuries.

Provided with her own living quarters, still guarded by soldiers. But she has a bed now. Has clothes now. Fabric, that is soft beneath scarred hands. A window, barred, but still allows her to see the sun and the moon now. A bookshelf. A desk. Will be donned with armor properly when the next battle arrives to their doorstep.

They allowed her to keep the journal. The scarred journal that she has been writing in since the commander allowed her to begin writing in it. Or, moreso requested her to. To remember things. To quit forgetting them. It's meant to make her useful to the Alliance of ships. If she forgot how to wield a sword, how to tear through the enemy faction with grace and precision, then there was no point. If she can't remember things about the Abundance, can't remember anything about enemy formations, she couldn't be of service.

And if she wasn't of service, she was worthy of death.

They've cleaned her, bathed her. Dressed her in something simple. It almost doesn't look like her, when she looks in the mirror. Dark hair combed and brushed, washed, clean. Pulled away from her face in a low braid. It's ... jarring. Her scars though -- they still faintly glow gold.

The door slides open without warning, and every muscle in her body tenses. Fight or flight, and she grasps for nothing. Without the journal, she still remembers where her hilts should be, the sound of her blades leaving their sheathes. Yet, they aren't there, and she's left weaponless when it reveals a Knight. A Cloud Knight.

A past her would kill them where they stand.

A new her, instead stands down, glaring at them.

"It's time. The Cloud Knights have a new mission for you," Their voice is hard, tough, refuses to break in her presence. Stressed, even though she looks terribly pathetic right now. They step into the room, another Knight behind them, clasping another small book in their hands. Identical to the one she writes in now, "From now on, you will be known as Zhenyan, and you will be in service to the Xianzhou Luofu Cloud Knights. We will see if your pledge was honest, but never forget that we will cut you down in the instant you break that pledge. Do you understand?"

Zhenyan. They've named her, in the absence of her knowing her own name. It was gone to time, now. She doesn't truly miss the loss of it.

They recoil ever so slightly when she reaches for the journal.

"As you request, General."

@sundays-wing-piercing + @lesbianbootheng

#oc: zhenyan #oc #original character #honkai star rail oc #hsr oc

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dailydemonspotlight · 2 months

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I've been really getting into Canaanite mythology, so I was thinking of requesting someone like Anat for the future

Anat - Day 71 (Request)

Race: Megami

Arcana: Priestess

Alignment: Light-Chaos

July 15th, 2024

Canaanite mythology is, unfortunately, very obscure- despite the varying amount of sources we have to work off of regarding it, a good amount of the ancient religion has been lost to time, and so many features and gods from it have been forgotten as the years went on and history left it behind in its wake. What we do have, however, is a fascinating look into the various places it intersects with other world religions, areas, and places from throughout history. This all comes to a head in the form of a Canaanite goddess who isn't only connected to just Canaan- no, she's connected to far, far more. Enter the goddess of many things, whether it be fertility, warfare, or hunting- the elusive Ugarit deity, Anat.

Anat is attested to very scantly, and almost all of her references lie in the Ugaritic texts, an ancient set of tablets written in cuneiform and dating back to the 12th and 13th centuries BCE. While these texts are filled with hundreds of poems, the major poem we wish to focus on today, one of three, lies in the Baal cycle, the main source also used for, you guessed it, Baal. Now, interestingly, the Baal cycle is used for more than simple reference back-and-forth for Canaanite myth- quite a lot of sources actually use it as a point of reference for comparison between Canaanite and several Abrahamic religions- but I'm getting off topic. Within the Baal cycle, however, she is referenced quite a bit as a very important figure. As seen in the cycle, Anat is an incredibly powerful figure who fights alongside Baal against the god of the dead and his eternal enemy, Mot. A lot of the poem, unfortunately, is very, very hard to read, with many lines missing and others obscured by the ages, but I'll try to offer as many quotes as I can. Also of note is that most of the sources refer to Anat as a deity that was already quite well known.

Case in point, the source listed above. It's easy to inquire that Anat was a household name in Ugaritic areas, and the passing referral to her in most sources also makes it obvious that she was a well known and well-referred to goddess, unfortunately making research about her ten times harder to people nowadays like me who don't know much about her. However, what we can work off of is the actual fragments that were preserved and translated! To quote the tablets kept in the Syria virtual museum exhibit,

“To me let your feet run, to me let your legs hurry; as I have a word of which I would tell you, a matter of which I would relate to you; words of wood and whispers of stone, conversations of the heavens with the earth, the deep with the stars.” (CTA 3 iii 19-25)

From what we can gather, Anat appeared to have been the lover of Baal, and the above text is what he said when he called to her after his death at the hands of Mot. I wish a few more lines were translated, given how many PDF's I've had to sift through, but alas- it comes with the territory of annoyingly obscure deities. Many other sources also purport that they may have been siblings, and still other sources think they took a page out of Alabama's book, so to speak. What we do know for sure, though, is that Anat is one of Baal's greatest allies, but a lot past that is vague. It's even debated among researchers as to her role- it used to be believed, based on the paper "Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible" written by Israeli scholar Ariella Deem, that Anat's name was based upon a hypothetical root word meaning 'to make love,' being nh, but as time has went on and it's been discovered that the root word in question may not exist, her role has been changed in tune.

Now, as evidenced in the Baal cycle, it's believed that she was a war god of sorts, as well as the savior of life itself in the tradition- in it, as quoted below, she killed Mot and, by vanquishing death, had guaranteed that Baal would be brought back to life.

She seizes the God Mot. With a sword She cleaves Him, With a pitchfork She winnows Him. With a fire She burns Him, In the millstones She grinds Him. In the fields She plants Him,

As evidenced later in the text, she was also responsible for the slaughter of several other gods, being known as a goddess of vengeance in the wake of Baals death. To quote,

She smites the people of the seashore, destroys mankind of the sunrise. Under Her are heads like vultures. Over Her are hands like locusts. Pouring the oil of peace from a bowl, the Virgin Anath washes Her hands, The Progenitress of Heroes, (washes) Her fingers. She washes Her hands in the blood of soldiery, Her fingers in the gore of troops. [...] Did I not demolish the darling of `El, Yam the Sea? Did I not make an end of Nahar the River, the great god divine Rabim? Did I not snare the Dragon, vanquish him? I did demolish the Twisting Serpent, the Tyrant with Seven Heads?

This all goes to show that Anat, as a whole, appeared to be a goddess of war- while a lot of the language translated to speak of Anat, Ugaritic, is hard to translate both due to a lack of knowledge and difficulty in changing concepts (such as the aforementioned root words,) a lot of what we do know for sure about her paint her as a ruthless goddess who got vengeance for her husband/brother/both and then some. However, how is she portrayed in SMT?

Frankly, I find her design a bit... strange? And also very horny, though I guess it comes with the territory of being a purported goddess of fertility- however, a lot of her design just feels strained. It's even worse in its yellow color pallete in Soul Hackers, though that might just be my taste. I do quite like her Persona design, though that may just be due to my love of Motorcycles and the fact that she's evolved from Johanna.

Overall, though, design issues aside, I really do quite like Anat- the rabbit hole this demon can lead you down is intense, but it's one that I still found fun and intriguing to research. Do your own research for her, too! There's a lot I didn't mention in this general overview, after all!

#shin megami tensei #smt #megaten #persona #daily #ask #everyone thank yamai

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naoa-ao3 · 1 year

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Calling From The Heart

Gilgamesh had thought a cell phone would be a good thing. Thena wanders off some times and though he knows she can take care of herself he can't help but worry when she does. It's part of the reason they're so far from anywhere inhabited.

Just the same he fears that one day she might wander off in a fit of madness and never return. It's irrational but he can't help but feel it and so he buy's her a cell phone. It's more for his peace of mind than anything else.

She opens it at the table, a look of amusement spreading across her face. Phastos could have made something infinitely better but they're all living their separate lives now and this will work just as well.

She looks at it curiously and tears into the packaging, the little plastic thing small in her hand as she smiles.

"We have a phone." She say's.

He rubs at his neck. "Well, this one can leave the house and it came as a pair so I have one too."

She presses buttons and seems relaxed enough.

He cherishes moments like these. Moments when everything is calm and he has his Thena, the woman he knows and loves. The woman's he's fought along side of and called friend for all his waking life.

"Show me yours." She say's, leaning across the table.

It's a warm night but not so warm they can't go for a walk later.

He fishes his out and hands it to her and see's something bright in her eyes. "Mine is already set up. You'll have to activate yours." He say's.

They're simple gadgets.

Phastos would have been bored.

"I can call you on it from anywhere?" She asks.

He shrugs. "So long as it can get a signal."

There's a tower put up not too far away. He's found it isn't great but they should be able to get ahold of each other.

"You can even make it play music." He say's and she laughs like she hasn't been on the Domo, like she hasn't seen wonders lightyears ahead of this.

"You think I should?" She asks and she throws her head back and laughs loudly.

He's glad she likes it, it isn't much and it won't stop Mahd Wy'ry from taking it's toll but now at least he has a way to reach her if she ever wanders too far.

She breaks the phone of course.

A month later and she isn't thinking about it. She forgets and knocks it from a shelf and the damn thing breaks.

Gil cleans it up and see's her half apologetic expression. "I'll get a new one." He say's.

She smiles. "I'm sorry."

He knows she doesn't really care about the phone. She hasn't used it.

Thena was made for battle and a cell phone means very little to her but he buys her a new one anyway and set's it up for her, seeing her smile again when he puts it in her hand. She hasn't asked why he's bought it or why he bought the last one.

Maybe a part of her knows but he holds her hand for a moment just the same.

It's because he cares.

The next one breaks during a bad fit, when Mahd Wy'ry takes over her mind and the little thing falls from her pocket and slaps to earth, breaking just like the first one.

Gil buy's another and she say's she hadn't realized the second had broken.

"Well, this one is a newer model." He say's, putting it in her hand like the last one. "Maybe it will last longer."

Thena smiles and kisses his cheek, she isn't as affectionate as she once was. Mahd Wy'ry has taken that from her but every once in a while she's still the same old Thena, every once in a while she wants to spar but even that has gotten more difficult over the last few centuries.

She forgets when she spars, the madness comes to her and she suffers and for Gil it's one of the worst sights to behold.

He wishes he could take her suffering away, make it all right and good. He wishes he could build something like Phastos that could shield her form this pain and damage, that could slow her mind's descent but even Phastos doesn't have an invention like that and so instead sometimes he tells her some of Sprite's stories and things they've done in the past. Most times she say's she remembers but sometimes she admits she doesn't.

During those times he holds her hand and even if she never really cares about the phone he still buys her another when she breaks the third one.

His own is dated by then and yet he holds on to it, sentimental perhaps. . . they've never actually had to use them to call one another and so one day when he goes into town he uses his to call hers just for the heck of it.

It takes her a minute to answer and even then she sounds amused.

"Did you forget something?" She asks.

He's only gone for a few groceries.

"Ah, did we need any flour?" He asks.

He hears her hum and check. "Yes."

He can't say why but it amuses him to use the phone like this, to be able to just reach out and call her. Maybe he should get some of the others to give them their numbers. That would have been interesting, maybe even fun.

"I'll make sure to get it."

He hears her laugh softly. "Don't forget."

He doesn't and he never really did.

"I won't." He promises and he doesn't.

Thena never really cares about the phones. At one point he buys her one that can take pictures, descent pictures even and she's amused by it for a while, she sends him pictures when she goes for walks. Little things that she see's out, lizards and clouds and rocks.

He saves them to his own phone.

Snap shots of Thena's view.

He treasures them as he treasures her and when that phone breaks also he buys her another then as well.

He does get Sersi's number and they send her a selfie one day, the two of them in their home smiling at the camera, Thena has her chin jutted out proudly and Gil saves that picture as well.

No, even if Thena doesn't really care about the bit of plastic and metal he plans to keep buying her phones because it's worth it for the peace of mind and he likes being able to reach out to her. Maybe if she has one she'll be able to reach out when she needs to one day and he'll be able to pick up.

Maybe it'll help and if not, what's the worst it could cause?

He loves her and he wants to be there for her in any way he can.

#eternals #thena #gilgamesh #thenamesh #marvel #immortals #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #cute #romance #fluff #fluff and angst #cell phones #love #domestic fluff

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afirewiel · 10 months

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I just finished watching The Artful Dodger and boy do I need a second season of this show.

Let me start off by saying that I've only read Oliver Twist once and that was years ago for school. I have only vague memories of the book, but one of the things I think the show does wonderfully is to fill in the gaps and rely mainly on people's cultural knowledge of the characters and events of the book. It was easy to follow and understand and I was never confused.

Another thing that was done wonderfully was reminding us, the audience, that Jack (aka Dodger) was only a child during the events of Oliver Twist. As such, he was heavily influenced by the adults in his life, mainly Fagin. Were Jack a modern man, the justice system would have more compassion on him do to his upbringing and his young age when he committed those crimes (at least in the U.S., not sure about the UK or Australia).

Now, let's talk the characters.

First, Jack Dawkins, the titular character. Thomas Brodie-Sangster did a masterful job with the character. I've only seen TBS in a few things, but I've always been impressed with his acting and this show is no exception. I certainly believed that here was a young man who had lived a hard life and was genuinely trying to turn things around for himself, but who also couldn't escape his past and still felt the thrill of the heist. TBS balanced those aspects of his character beautifully and I just want more.

And David Thewlis as Fagin! Perfect casting choice. David is another actor I've always enjoyed and just like TBS he did not disappoint. He kept you guessing as to where his truly loyalties lie and for a more I really was afraid that he was going to turn Jack into Gaines.

Speaking of...oh man. Gaines truly felt like a Dickins villain. An overly enthusiastic officer of the law who goes too far. It's a shame he's dead (or is he?) cause I'd have loved to have seen his reaction to Fagin and Jack getting off (which we know they will).

Oliver Twist! I was hoping he'd show up, but I had no idea that he'd turn out of be one of the bad guys. I was hoping he and Jack would patch things up and be friends. Oh, well. Guess that isn't happening now. One question though, were his feelings for Fanny genuine or was he just using her to smuggle the gold back to England? I can't tell.

Fanny...she was a little over the top at times. She certainly filled the role of annoying younger sister, but was still sweet. The only thing I didn't really like about her when she kissed Sneed when she thought he was asleep. Not a fan of that.

Sneed...very arrogant at times, but genuinely realizes Jack is the better doctor (probably why he's constantly belittling him), and even admits it at the end.

The governor....hm...he does seem like a caring father, but does seem rather oblivious. But he earned my respect by trying to stand up to his wife and say that he should be the one to return to England and take responsibility for the gold. Props to him for that.

The governor's wife...look I get being shocked at finding your daughter in bed with man (especially back then), but to totally disregard both said daughter and man's insistence that said daughter is dying and brush it off as manipulation...that's just not good. Especially when you know your daughter has been interested in medicine and reading all sorts of medical journals before she even met the man, who you yourself said was brilliant.

As for Belle...well...I appreciate what they were trying to do with the character, but I think they should have chosen someone else for the role. Maia Mitchell just gives off very strong 21st century vibes. Everyone else looks like they fit in the 19th century, but not her. She felt more like someone from our time who time traveled back to the 1850s and was just trying to blend in. Plus, her acting at times felt a little wooden to me and I just wasn't as impressed as I was with some of the others. Neither of these things would be a problem if Belle were just a side character, but she's Jack's love interest. Normally I'm not a fan of recasts, but in this case I wouldn't mind if they found someone better.

#the artful dodger

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wiedzmacienia · 1 year

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Would you rather keep living forever, or switch places with someone else and succumb at a normal life span?

so while i think this wasn't geared toward modern katarzyna, modern katarzyna is who you shall get for reasons. | would you rather meme responses

katarzyna isn't at headquarters often these days for her team largely operates on missions outside of the normal routines of the knights-- no they were called agents now-- which division held within it's ranks. she distances herself usually, so many more human faces in the modern age. it was the embodiment of what she'd fought so hard for lifetimes ago, cooperation. protection of her people, humans and supernaturals working together. supporting each other. she should engulf herself into it yet she can't. the witch is far from the person she had once been, too jaded, too hurt, and lost to the darkness that creeped into her bones. sometimes it was a wonder she hadn't given herself completely over to it, let herself fall into dark magic if it meant more power to defeat her foes. perhaps it's the only thing still left of the girl she'd been once before. a girl capable of loving, of gentleness, of caring instead of the hollowness that she felt inside the moment she'd woken up in her brothers arms with a brand burned into her back and poison in her veins.

katarzyna and the agents aside from her team did not mix well.

her indifference toward those labeled as colleterial damage (in most cases) made them uncomfortable. not that they too wouldn't have to make some of the same decisions (though they did operate under less extreme operations than her team did) but katarzyna no longer looked for work arounds on missions, no longer worried about those who might be innocent if they'd seen things they could not be allowed to go into the world with the knowledge of as long as the mission was done and the larger threat defeated. sometimes, when she tackles the drive to connecticut she lets her mind drift back to the past and imagines blue hues of disappointment looking upon her. (@honorhearted) but that was a face she would never see again. a touch she would never know again. and it's the wake of it's loss and the loss of the hope that person had inspired in her that had allowed her to dare to trust another that all traces of it had been overridden by the pain that had been unleashed upon her and seared into her skin. she couldn't recall that gentleness anymore, couldn't bare to think on it too long either. she was the product of what the world had made of her. so no, she was not one for missions with green agents often.

would you rather keep living forever, or switch places with someone else and succumb at a normal life span?

yet here she was, sitting across from one who was too curious for his own good. who was too bright and too awed for the world that was going to be thrust onto the human. acceptance of the supernatural was fine, even seemed more potent of a concept these days but the world they operated in was not for dreamers. they did the things others could not, so that they never would have to. this mission was going to either see the man sink or swim and if the former it sure as hell better not hinder the mission's goal.

the blonde witch is tempted to get up and relocate, leave the agent hanging on their question and review mission details. god, if she was going to be stuck with a human on a mission with so many variables in play she'd much rather it be elijah (@everythingheard). she knew he was capable even if he wasn't often in the field and he'd actually earned her trust in a way that few often were able to in the last century. hell, she'd even be willing to team up with constantine, at least he didn't hold the same qualms she could see springing up with this green agent. she doesn't leave though, her greenish-blue hues moving up to meet the agent's gaze and her allowing the briefest flash of memories... a smile, children laughing, two humans and a witch squeezing into a bed, an argument, a kiss... to play upon her mind. just for a moment, a moment that ceases her breath until she finally releases a shaky sigh.

"it is not that simple. i can't just trade places and if you're going to be in this line of work you need to understand that rarely is anything simple. but-- there was a time long ago when i would have given anything for that." when she would have given anything to be able to grow old along with the person she loved, to have been able to die with them, to have been able to give them more than twins.. but dreams didn't have a place in this world. not for people like her. "but i grew up and saw the world we live in. would i give up my immorality and trade places with someone else now? no. what good would that do if not to take out an experienced warrior for division's goals?" maybe in another life, she would have. a life she had something to give it up for. a life filled with love in the wake of war. a life that had finally given her peace for a while. but that wasn't her reality anymore and it never would be again. and it wasn't a life that the woman she had become deserved anyway.

"enough of such talk. tell me, how many ways do you know how to vanquish a wrath? your life may depend on it."

#honorhearted #everythingheard #tagged for mention #meme answers;#answered asks;#v; main #time period; modern #sorry this took so long to answer!

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sharoscylla · 1 year

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1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 13, 14, 17, 19 for whoever comes to mind and seems most interesting/you want to talk about most with each question (feel free to do multiple also if you want!

Oooh, I'll run through a few OCs with this one. Under a cut because of the subject matter (abuse, child abuse, child neglect, child sexual abuse, incest, transphobia, uh... certainly other things, my OCs are going through it)

What memory would the OC rather forget: you know I realized I give a LOT of my OCs memory problems now that I look at this... let's do Ripley here, even though the act of becoming Ripley by default means that at 18 she forgets 80% of her life in one fell swoop and pretends that she forgets the other 20%. Like yeah, she wishes she could forget having been abused and abandoned by the one person she thought she could count on. She doesn't remember his name but she wishes she could forget that she just wasn't good enough for him, or their parents, or anyone else. She wishes she could forget that her mom treated her body like something she owned and could reshape and dress and undress and move. She wishes she could forget having spent most of her childhood desperately trying to please that woman and never understanding what she was doing wrong.

something about my OC people wouldn't expect from looking at them: for aleksei/oeddie, no matter what the setting, people don't expect him to be conversationally fluent in multiple languages. (part of that is because he usually looks like a big, rough biker-gang criminal/space pirate criminal, part of that is because the people who know him know he's illiterate and visibly treat him like he doesn't understand what's going on. in Humility it's just that he's a big out-of-fashion country boy shyly clinging to the person he came with... for like 3 centuries lmao)

my OC's fatal flaw+do they know about the flaw: I think a common flaw my OCs tend to have is a complete lack of faith in other people, to a certain extent. they're generally people who have been so badly hurt and used in their lives that they don't believe other people are even really capable of caring about or helping them when they need it, so they often just try to stick it out on their own when times are rough, even to the exclusion and hurt of the friends and family they do end up with. some versions of Kip, Ripley, and Grim end up with the inverse, where they're convinced that no matter how good or caring other people are, they're uniquely viscerally off-putting/spiritually sick in a way that makes people loathe, dislike, or ignore them. this tends to overlap with some pretty debilitating and intense mental illnesses though, so I'm not sure if it counts as a flaw in some cases.

5. how far is my OC willing to go to get what they want: it's really an interesting question because i think it kind of... illuminates that a lot of my OCs tend to be inserted into situations where they've been stuck in survival/reaction mode for so long they have a hard time conceptualizing wanting something beyond that. Cricket, Nal, and Ripley all want similar things for different reasons, and all end up questing to (and eventually, succeeding in) kill a god or gods, but they're in situations where the price for doing so - your own humanity and peace of mind - are worthless to them because of their damaged pasts. Aleksei very clearly wants Jonah M (not an OC lol) to love him, but isn't willing to accept that the price of Jonah M's love is either changing himself or changing Jonah M. Kip wants to be wanted by her parents, but in her refusal to accept the reality of who they are has adopted intense delusions about what would be necessary to gain their love and willingly destroys her own life, even to the point of trying to destroy her own personality and identity and disappearing off the face of the earth, just to do what she thinks is necessary to get the attention she needs to be valuable to them, despite the pretty clear evidence that nothing she will ever do will get them to care about her.

7. one way my OC has changed since I came up with them: this is a fun one actually. Ripley and Oeddie/Aleksei came from the same OC, Oedipus "Oeddie" Lastname (the last name changed for different settings,) which was a character that my 17 year old self did NOT know was a trans dude because my 17 year old self did not know, in 2003-2004, that this was an option for people. So a huge part of that character was "person who'd grown up extremely isolated with a pack of shitty brothers and no one else, who didn't know Girl was an option until escaping this family and who over-performed Girl as a way of denying childhood/past family roles despite loathing and resenting Girl." (not to get too deep into it, but the character was first developed for forum-based and IRC-based RP, so some settings I did get to play Oeddie 95% as "Boy who is going to get a big surprise the first time anybody actually sees him without a suit of power armor" and others I was told I did not have the option of playing an AFAB boy/man, so take it as you will lol.) Anyway, I made some significant changes to the Proto-Oeddie to create Gabriel Leonhardt, a big strong post-apocalyptic woman who was somewhat adopted by a gunslinger-type guy named John Leonhardt in a gladiator ring and eventually rescued by some of his fellow gunslingers just after she was forced to kill him. (You can see where Ripley came from, here, haha.) I adapted Gabe into Ripley because I watched Gravity Falls for the first time right after watching the kill bill movies for the 20th time, and i was seized with a vision. Ripley still really clearly has her roots in Proto-Oeddie, though. Oeddie/Aleksei now is just the exact same character with the exact same backstory except I, the writer, know trans people exist. Other than actually getting to be a man, there aren't very many changes to him at all, except like 6 or 7 years ago I decided he was a supertaster who would make a master chef with a little bit of training and encouragement. (And frankly, Nal is an expansion of Ripley - a fantasy/horror setting paladin that's a fusion of Ripley and Bea.)

13. if i met my OC, would the two of us get along: MOST OF MY OCs, YES, WE WOULD GET ALONG. Like, a lot of satellite OCs no, we would hate each other - people's parents and siblings, in most cases. The OCs that are kids typically wouldn't but only because by the nature of their wretched childhoods they don't tend to trust or like strange adults, but most of them would, in adulthood, get along fine with me.

14. how does my OC want to be seen by other characters: I think the overwhelming consensus is that my OCs want to be seen as worthy of love, or at least useful. Kam (visually impaired deer alien) wants to be seen as a vicious badass that's too tough to fuck with, partly because people have taken advantage of her in the past and partly because she's scared of what she does and who she is when pushed past the threshold of violence. Kam (grey jedi/sith/archaeologist) wants to be seen purely as an expert in her field, because an enormous amount of the grief in her life comes from people having punished or overlooked her for failing to meet their standards in areas she was not skilled or talented in. Something I'm having fun exploring with my florida turtle tmnt iteration is that Raph and Mikey specifically want to be seen as Normal Boys to the point that it's all they want.

17. what's the worst thing I have put my OC through, story-wise: oh my gosh. was it Natashoggoth sinking her tongue into Ripley's brain and showing her that Ford doesn't need her the way she needs him? Was it Kip and Jo screaming on the pavement, Jo holding Kip back because there's no way their three best friends/bandmates/the loves of their lives survived that fiery bus crash? was it space!Oeddie pinned to the ground as his brother destroyed his right hand and bit a chunk out of his left ear as he screamed that nobody was going to take Oeddie away again?

19. how does my OC behave when enraged: it's hard to say! like. the vast majority of my OCs have backgrounds as abused, neglected children whose emotional responses were brutally policed and who were often at the whim of people whose anger was a capricious, terrifying thing. A lot of these characters bottle up or stifle their anger, beating it down as a form of self harm, until they explode or lash out. Ripley is probably one of the healthier ones here, in that she's been trained to use her anger as a sort of stubborn survivalist motivator in most situations. Though sometimes her anger tips over into single-minded destruction, self-harm, and often arson, it was specifically her human rage at seeing Bill inhabit Ford for even a few seconds that drove her to bodyslam Bill/Ford into a literally infinite pit of magical fire.

#oc ask prompts #thanks for the ask!

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sapphic-swiftie13 · 2 years

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Maria Hill compliance will be rewarded

It didn't take you long to get eyes on the target, she did stand out even though her mission was to be invisible and blend in with the crowd. You could say she was doing a terrible job, regardless of her high-ranking title within S.H.I.E.L.D. You leaned onto the wall some meters behind her, eavesdropping on her conversation.

There she was, standing in her beautiful black dress, swirling her champagne as she talked to Nick Fury's right-hand man, Phil Coulson. Since she was wearing heels, she looked slightly taller than him, and nothing crushes a man's ego faster than a woman being taller than them, but he didn't seem bothered by it at all. She's scouting the area, most probably for threats and things that seemed out of place, Coulson looked at her dumbfoundedly.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he looked at her and then her glass of champagne. "That's not wine," he followed up, stating the obvious. "I know that," Maria answered back as she turned to look to her right. "Then why are you swirling it like it's wine? Champagne isn't supposed to be swirle-."

Maria cut him off before he went on to talk about the history of champagne. "Okay. I won't swirl it, alright? Now can you see anything?" she asked as she placed her full glass of champagne on the table in front of them.

"The only thing suspicious here is your lack of knowledge about champagne," Coulson answered her sarcastically.

"You're a nerd, you know that right? You know so much about history I'm surprised that your deaths have occurred in this decade, and not centuries before this. The way you talk about World War II, it's creepy, always seems like you lived through it," she mockingly replied.

By now she was looking up at the staircase that some people would describe as majestic. "I guess you could say I lived through Steve Rogers," he said as he smiled like a little kid.

"Oh god, you're fangirling. Too bad you took a trip to Tahiti, and never got your set of Captain America trading cards signed by him," she said and looked at him sympathetically. "Yup. Tahiti... It was a magical place. Not going back in a while," he said and proceeded to chug the rest of his champagne.

Maria proceeded to turn around for just a few seconds, but it was long enough for her to notice you scanning the room like she had done moments before. Then your eyes met as the people behind her started gathering on the dancefloor in front of the staircase.

This expensive lake-house did not disappoint, and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling over the dancefloor was a nice touch, some might argue and say it's a little over the top, but you disagreed. It's not every day that you get to live like a princess, so why not let the fairy-tale be your own reality even though it is all pretend.

Coulson looked over at the dancefloor and smirked. "Do you want to dance? I won't step on your toes, I promise."

Maria turned back around again, looked hesitant at first but soon enough he was leading her out on the dancefloor, leaving her purse on the table before she stole one more glance at you.

Making sure that Maria's focus wasn't on you, you took your chance. You started walking the direction she and Coulson went. You had to walk past her purse to follow them, so you discreetly dropped a tracker in it, hopefully letting it stay hidden as a backup plan. Then you walked onto the dancefloor after them, just quick enough to hear Coulson say, "Melinda taught me to dance, actually."

"Oh wow, didn't expect that," she said as she laughed out a little too loud. You let a minute pass by before you further made any moves. Watching her from afar and slowly making your way closer to her was far more enjoyable than you would've anticipated it to be.

From the outside it would look like you were clumsy and stumbled into her by accident, as a result of having your back turned to hers. But it was in fact calculated.

"Oh god, sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you!" you apologized and found the balance you never actually lost. "It's fine, don't worry," she answered, eyeing you up and down.

"May I have this dance to make it up to you?" you asked with a shy smile. Coulson looked smugly at Maria and pushed her in your direction. She gasped and you could see by the look on her face that she was most likely going to politely decline, but you weren't ready for your plan to not flow smoothly.

"I insist!" you said as you took a hold of her hand and spun her around. "What's your name?" you followed up, as she proceeded to take the lead. She took her time before answering the question, like she was deciding if she was going to be honest or not.

"It's Maria... what's yours?" she asked back as she pulled you closer than you had ever been to her. Your nose filled with her floral scent that had hints of peony and lychee, which made it hard to think.

"My name is whatever you decide..." you said jokingly. "That is the cheesiest thing I've ever heard... does that usually work?" she asked skeptically with one eyebrow furrowed.

"Truth be told, it's the first time I've said something as stupid as that so I will take a leap here and say it doesn't usually work," you informed her as you let out a chuckle and put your arms around her neck as a result of the song changing into a rather slow one.

To get close to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most feared agents was supposed to be difficult, but this was like a walk in the park.

HYDRA has been close to S.H.I.E.L.D. before but having your arms around one of their best agents and smelling their perfume was another type of close to the enemy. HYDRA has been inside S.H.I.E.L.D. before but your mission could lead to another type of inside, it wasn't necessarily going to be difficult, but it sure would be hard.

Dancing back and forth to the beat, gazing into each other's eyes. It sounds incredibly romantic, but sadly this is all pretend. It's all a big act, its fake, but it still makes you feel something, it may be love or pain and before you even know it yourself it can end in both.

Truth be told, it doesn't really matter in the end. Whether it's a comedy or a tragedy that you either act in or watch, you might be left with overflowing emotions, but then again, it doesn't matter in the end, because all you can do when something ends is to move on.

This acting turns into a show that those on the outside doesn't even know they get to watch for free. Hell, they're even in the show like extra actors in the background and they're watching the story unravel without even acknowledging that what they are in fact witnessing is someone else's story. In your own story, those who hurt you are the villains, but in their story, you might even find yourself to be their nightmare, the villain who keeps them up at night.

You literally got lost in her lovely ocean eyes, painfully reminding yourself how this is all just a big act, that was all it was going to be, and right now the show had to go on. "You're gorgeous..." you complimented her, keeping up the act and testing out the waters in the process.

Then you let your gaze shift from her eyes onto her rosy-red lips multiple times, making sure she had made out what you were doing. There was no denying it, S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of attractive agents, it was a smart trick. No one dislikes having someone to sneak glances at, which to women's advantage makes men easier to manipulate as they seemingly make the mistake of thinking with the wrong head that is driven by lust and not logic.

As seconds passed by without any reaction from her, you had to carry on with your well-thought-out plan. The best way to act, in your opinion, was to seem uncertain and ashamed, afraid of having moved too fast and overstepped in some way.

"Shit... I'm sorry!" you said as you let your hands fall to your own waist, then you quickly walked away from her. Nervously you glanced back at her one last time only to get met by her stare.

It was fun acting like she was a stranger to you, but the special thing about this stranger wasn't just her mesmerizing eyes and the longing stares from across the room. Everything she knows, all the information she sits on is pretty special, and even with all that information she didn't know that all of her and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets were about to be spilled and used against them. By knowing their truth, HYDRA could easily make up lies to feed the world instead, while making sure that S.H.I.E.L.D. would have no proof to why what HYDRA leak isn't true.

The secrets were going to be broadcasted on TV, all over the media, and S.H.I.E.L.D. would be painted as a terrorist organization. The whole world will view S.H.I.E.L.D. as the definition of destruction, not protection. Pretending to be humanity's shield, just to cover up the fact that they aren't a shield, that they never were, and that they were never going to be what the world needed in times of crisis.

The most satisfying part is how S.H.I.E.L.D., and Maria will be forced out of the shadows where they liked lurking, working from the side-lines. All their secrets spilled like wine and no matter how many times they will try to clear their name and wash away the stain on their reputation, it would never fully go away. It was surely going to leave a scar that time couldn't ever fully heal. They would be forever doomed, buried in lies, never even getting the chance to change reality in the slightest bit.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s calamitous downfall was all you could think and fantasize about as you found the luxurious bar that was matching the whole house's elegant style and charming interior decoration. It was quieter than you would expect, and there was a lot of people having conversations of their own in every corner of the room but still the chatter was calm and never getting old.

The guests were having a good time enjoying the free alcohol and food, but you were delighted by your own thoughts, finding comfort by simply sitting alone sipping the beer you had gotten for free from the bartender as you envisioned S.H.I.E.L.D. crumbling before HYDRA.

Your daydreaming came to an end as you were startled by a soft hand on your shoulder. You didn't dare turn around, or even peek over your own shoulder. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was, because your suspicions were confirmed when the familiar floral scent crept up your nose. Before doing anything else you took two shots of vodka in a row, trying to calm your nerves.

The plan had worked this far, your only disadvantage was not only her being unbelievably hot, but it was also the fact that you were now getting a little bit under the influence as time went on and the combination of those two weren't good at all.

Since you didn't turn around to greet her, she asked, "Is this seat taken?" but she didn't wait for an actual answer, because beside you, you could clearly hear her sit down on the bar stool. Clearing your head felt impossible but you turned in her direction to face her. Letting your eyes fall upon her alluring face made it seem like time had stopped just momentarily. In your head you were cursing yourself for even allowing yourself to consider the smallest possibility of viewing her as anything more than a mission.

Then you quickly looked away, ashamed of your own thoughts. "Oh no... haven't I embarrassed myself enough for one night already?" you asked her as you fiddled with your hands on the bar counter. You call that embarrassment? You must've never been the dumb one that let the opportunity of a kiss pass you by," she stated as she laid her hand on top of your own.

"Well, I don't believe for a second that you're dumb... I think you're selling yourself short," you told her as you flashed her a smile and observed all the features on her face once again. The more you look at that woman the more you get pulled in, and you don't want to stop looking at her, so each time you look away the clearer her face gets embedded in your mind, the image imprinting itself in your brain.

"What are you looking at?" she asked with this weird expression on her face that you couldn't quite figure out what meant. You were still lost in your thoughts unaware of time and space. "Hello? Earth to stranger I shared a dance with..." she said as she waved in front of your face until you reacted.

"Shit... what?" you asked her confused, as everything came rushing back. You spaced out when I asked you what you were looking at..." she informed you with a smug look plastered on her face.

"You were looking at me, so what crossed your mind? Spit it out, stranger," she asked as she tried to figure you out. "Stranger... oh fuck, I didn't really introduce myself, did I?" you asked back rhetorically.

"Don't avoid my question. What did you think about? And your name is currently irrelevant to me. I want to know what you thought about, you zoned out considerably for a long amount of time," she stated as she nudged your shoulder with her own.

"Okay, fine... I just thought about you... or more specifically, your face," you answered her and you quickly looked away as your cheeks were getting redder by each second that passed.

"You're cute..." Maria said as you tried to compose yourself. "And you're pretty hot," you said and took another sip of your beer, giving yourself time to check the mirrors without being suspicious.

You couldn't see Coulson anywhere as your eyes scanned the room. "Hey... didn't you come here with a man?" you asked then bit your lip as you waited intently for her answer.

"You probably mean Coulson... and yes, he invited me here," she said as she stared you down. "Is he your boyfriend or something?" you asked as you stared back. "No, he certainly isn't!" she answered with a chuckle.

"Well... since he isn't your boyfriend, can I get your number?" you asked, knowing you'd get a fake number, or the number of one of her many burner phones. "Oh honey, you can get more than a number," she answered as she gave you the most seductive grin she could possibly make.

You were blushing like crazy, and she just chuckled lowly. "What do you say to getting out of here?" This was the plan all along, but executing the plan was beginning to feel messier now that your conscience came into play.

You let her lead you out to the parking lot where she had parked her car. She opened the passenger seat for you, then she slid into the driver's seat and started to drive. As she kept her eyes on the road, you discreetly surveyed her car for any weapons or something important she could have left lying around, having forgot to hide it. Of course, she didn't have anything out in the open, that anyone could see. The only way to see what she had in the car was to ransack it like a raccoon ravages a dumpster.

When you were finished looking around, you let yourself steal a glance at her. Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel like she was playing a tune she heard in her head. Other than that, the silence was ironically loud, but it wasn't awkward. It was a comfortable silence.

The silence broke when you gasped at the warm and soft hand she had placed on your thigh. "Sorry, did I startle you?" she asked as she glanced at you and smiled. "Yeah..." You answered as she gently squeezed. "I'm making a habit of that, aren't I?" she asked rhetorically as she let out a light chuckle.

Resting her hand on your thigh you could feel every move she made, the bumps on the road making her hand glide closer and closer to where you would want her the most. You were so caught up in how her hand moved that you didn't realize that the car had stopped.

"We're here," Maria informed you and you let out a breath you didn't know you had held in. She opened her door and got out, so you did the same. Locking the car, she walked towards you and softly took your hand in hers.

Studying the appearance of the building you got slightly suspicious. "Isn't this really expensive?" you asked as you could practically smell rich guys all over the hotel. "It's just one night... unless you want to stay longer," she said as she led you to the elevator.

She didn't check in at the reception, which was weird, that meant she already had booked a hotel room. But you didn't question her since it could blow your cover.

It would be idiotic to fuck up when you were so close to having a chance of getting the intel you were here for.

In the elevator there was just silence as she still held onto your hand, all you heard was the ding when the doors opened again. The room she had booked was on the fourth floor, and not all the way up to one of the highest floors which you feared it was going to be.

Walking down the corridor you searched for other possible exits, other than the elevator. Making up an escape route and not having enough time to look around was sometimes the most difficult part of a mission, which often led to failure. To get out alive is where most people fail.

But you weren't going to fail. You had this. You were good at complying. Compliance will be rewarded. Therefore, you were going to do this mission and get the hell out of here alive, and HYDRA would rise once again.

The walking came to a stop, and she used her key card to open the door. "After you," she said as she let go of your hand. You smiled at her and walked in. Then you took your shoes off as you heard the door close and then click behind you.

Knowing you were locked inside the room you turned around to face her, as fast as you turned around you were met by Maria's hand around your mouth. At first you didn't understand what was going on, but when she gagged you with a ball gag, then you were certain of what was going to happen.

Being submissive wasn't a problem for you at all, compliance would always be rewarded, and you knew that. You didn't know what you were going to do, so you tried to speak, only to mumble, forgetting that you were gagged for this reason.

Maria chuckled when you were quiet again and proceeded to put her finger on her lips and shushed you like parents quiet their babies down. Then she took some steps closer to you, patted your chest brushing something of your jacket.

All you did was observe her facial features as she concentrated on taking the jacket painfully slow off you.

The more you looked at her the more you admired the woman in front of you.

"This is a nice jacket," she said as she folded it and placed it on the dresser. Then she turned around and looked you up and down, just like she had done once before on the dancefloor.

"I want you to strip for me, nod if you also want that. If you don't want to, you don't have to, okay?" she informed you, as she glanced at the bed that was behind you.

You nodded, happy that she asked for your consent. She then walked past you and sat down on the bed, crossing her legs.

"Then strip," she ordered you as you still were standing with your back turned to her.

Slowly you took your pants off, making sure to bend, giving her a good view of your ass before you proceeded to take of your socks, only to turn around and watch her grin like the devil. You then walked towards her, taking off your blouse.

Standing there half naked and exposed, only in your underwear for her to judge you.

"My beautiful little doll..." she said as you felt yourself getting even more comfortable with her eyes all over your body, starting to like having her attention more than before. Your hands went behind your back to take off your bra, but she immediately stopped you. "Stop. I want to do that," she said, and you let your arms fall again. She stood up, and walked behind you, her head hovering over your shoulder.

You could feel her breath on your neck as she spoke, "I'm going to undress you now, and you're going to crawl onto the bed for me," she both informed and ordered you, and all you could do was shiver as her soft hands travelled from your waist then up to your bra.

Slowly taking it off, only to watch your breasts fall. Her hair touching your shoulder as she got even closer to you. "You're remarkably stunning," she whispered into your ear as one of her hands traced your back downwards.

Then her hair tickled you as she stepped back, only to keep tracing your back with her fingers down to your waist, only to take your panties off, admiring you. Stepping out of your panties, you stopped right in front of her again, unsure of what to do. You closely watched her as she dropped it behind her, letting it fall to the floor like the rest of your clothes.

Once more, she was standing behind you, so close that you could smell her perfume again. No matter what happens, you would remember that scent for the longest time. "Didn't I tell you to crawl onto the bed... are you intentionally disobeying me?" she asked in annoyance, knowing you couldn't talk.

You tried to speak again only to be reminded by the muffled sounds that you can't talk, the mumbling makes Maria chuckle lightly. "Get on the bed, darling," she ordered once again, but slapped your ass making you gasp, which also got silenced into a small quiet mumble.

"Did I startle you, again? ... you're just never prepared are you..." she said as you found your

way onto the bed. All you did was nod to what she had said. She then went back to the dresser where she had placed your jacket and found some rope.

"I'm going to tie you to the bed, nod if you're okay with that and shake your head if you aren't." To no surprise, you nodded. "You have to be honest, okay? Are you sure you're okay with it? I know that this might be new territory for you. So please, nod or shake your head again," she said as she crawled onto the bed, waiting for you to think again about your own limits. You nodded again and she took your hands up to the headboard. With no hesitation she tied your hands, making it impossible for you to move your arms.

"Is it too tight?" she asked, but you shook your head no and reassured her.

"Do you want me to tie your legs too?" she asked as a smirk appeared on her face. All you did was nod. Never having done this before gave you a rush of adrenaline. "It isn't too tight either?" she asked. You shook your head again. "Are you sure? Try to move for me," she ordered skeptical to why you didn't feel like it was too tight, when she clearly had tied the rope tight.

When you tried to move, there was no chance of escaping the ropes, and the more you moved the more the rope's friction would slowly burn your skin, but you didn't seem bothered by it.

"You like pain, don't you?" she asked once she figured you out. You nodded at her and watched her as her face lit up. She walked back to the dresser only to find a knife, when you saw it, your breathing fastened instantly.

Walking over to you again she took notice of how you seemed shocked, scared even. "Relax honey, I'm not going to hurt you, unless you want me to. Remember, one tap for continue, two taps for slow down and pinch for stop," she informed you as she sat down on her knees in between your legs and used the knife to trace your breasts.

The cold blade gently touching your nipples, making them harden as she kept on playing around with the knife on your body. She traced the tip of the blade in circles on your stomach making you shudder, then continued down to your thighs. Just tracing the letter M on your thigh a few times before she went upwards again.

All this was new to you, but you didn't even realize this turned you on. "You're going to soak the sheets, darling... All I've done is play around with the knife, princess," she mocked you.

Her humiliating you made you even wetter. She placed the knife beside her, and before you could react her hand had found your cunt. Teasing you, she ran her fingers through your wet folds, building your anticipation. She plunged two of her fingers inside you, but the only thing coming out of your mouth was small gasps and mumbles.

Her fingers thrusted in and out, at a fast and steady pace. Her thumb circling your clit, stimulating you as you kept on mumbling, and nearly drooling. Your breathing was becoming uneven, not by fear but by the pleasure you were feeling. You bucked your hips, trying to get more friction.

With her other hand, Maria picked up the knife and started to fondle your breasts with it, all you could do now was listen to your own moans turn into mumbles just like any other sound that left your mouth. You were completely powerless being tied up and gagged, and desperate to reach your climax.

When your mumbling became even louder than before, Maria added more pressure on your clit and kept rubbing in circles, not slowing down her thrusts. Your legs started to shake, and your hands pulled on the rope as your walls clenched around her fingers.

When you started to come down from your high you quickly became overstimulated, panicking, you tapped her twice. She laid the knife down again and sucked her fingers clean before she took the ball gag out of your mouth letting you speak.

"Do you want me to sto-?" she asked but you cut her off. "Mark me," you said as you searched her face for any reaction. "Are you sure?" she asked, scared of overstepping, pushing your limits too far.

"I'm sure..." you said as you watched her pick up the knife again, but only this time she'd mark you, not just trace your skin. Maria wasted no time, and she was now tracing the letter M again on your thigh. She looked up at you to check one last time if this is what you really wanted, and that you didn't want to do this just for her sake.

You nodded now without the gag, even though you knew you could speak you kept quiet, seeing as it relaxed her when she could focus in the silence.

The tip of the blade cut into you with precision.

You whimpered as the knife kept cutting into your flesh, but since you were tied up it was easier for Maria to carve her initial into your thigh. Blood droplets started to form, and the stinging sensation got stronger the more she cut.

"Sweetie, you're doing so good for mommy," she praised you as the M was nearly finished.

When she was done, she smeared the blood that was on the knife on your other thigh. The hand she had used to stimulate you just moments before, she once again placed at your throbbing core.

"Stimulating you now will turn the pain into pleasure..." she said as she started to rub your clit just like she had done when you had reached your first climax. She did not lie. The pain you had felt earlier still stung but soon enough it was like a new surge of pleasure that shot throughout your body.

The closer you got to your second orgasm the more your body started to shake. You were starting to feel overstimulated, and you couldn't control your breathing anymore. Trembling under Maria as desperate cries of pleasure left your mouth.

To get you over the edge Maria realized she had to do something she hadn't yet done with you. She simply had to kiss you, and so she did. Her lips roughly met yours taking you off guard and muffling your moans.

Her lips tasted sweeter than how you'd imagine S.H.I.E.L.D.'s annihilation could ever taste like, and you can't taste S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ruination on your tongue, but her you can taste, and her flavor is forever going to be savored in your mind.

She rode out your orgasm, still muffling your moans and slowly but surely you could think clearly again. Your stomach was now rising and falling evenly, but all you could do was appreciate the woman in front of you, even though she was just supposed to be a mission. HYDRA had been inside S.H.I.E.L.D. before but maybe it was fate that let S.H.I.E.L.D. be inside HYDRA for a change.

Maria reached up over your head and untied your arms, then she turned around to untie your legs. Your skin was red where the ropes had been tugging at your skin, but you hadn't even felt it as you were consumed by the pleasure you received.

"Wait here, doll, let me get something to clean the wound with... I don't want it to get infected, but it will probably leave a scar," she said as she got off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom only to come rushing out with a piece of bandage, a towel, saline, and some weird kind of tape.

She sat down beside you, dabbed some saline on the towel and looked you in your eyes for consent once again. You nodded, finding it funny how this was your most used way of communicating.

"You should hold on to something. This will also sting like one big motherfucker," she said in complete seriousness. You grabbed onto her thigh, and she dabbed the towel onto the wound. Wanting to scream when the pain resurfaced you squeezed her thigh for dear life. When you realized you could have hurt her you started stroking her thigh soothingly instead of apologizing.

"Shit..." you muttered out as you leaned your head backwards. "We're nearly done... hold on, just a little bit longer," she said as you felt the towel withdraw, being replaced by her soft hands around the wound.

Then you felt her pressing the bandage on and putting tape over it on the sides. You were finally done, and you couldn't help but feel tired, resulting in you letting out an audible yawn.

"There. Now that's out of the way... You can borrow some clothes to sleep in," Maria said as she made her way to her dresser and threw the clothes at you before disappearing into the bathroom.

As she was occupied you put her tank top and your own panties on and swiftly walked around checking the most obvious places first. Nothing in the plant in the corner of the room. Nothing in the chair in the corner opposite of it, and just your jacket on the dresser. If she had any valuable information stored here, it would be hidden, you heard the toilet flushing and water running from the sink, so your found you way to the bed.

Walking out in her own sleepwear she smiled when she laid eyes on you again. "Already gotten comfortable?" she teasingly asked you as she crawled onto the bed to get under the covers with you. You felt your cheeks getting red, as she pulled you closer. She was laying on her back so you could rest your head on her chest, and your hand on her stomach.

Tracing her stomach with your fingers, then the palm of her hand and up her arm, stroking her smooth skin, noticing how calm it made her, you kept doing this until you saw her beautiful eyes slowly getting more and more tired. You waited until she fell asleep.

Then you took your chance. You found your way into the bathroom and searched it thoroughly until you finally found intel, a file hidden under a tile in the floor and written on it was Project T.A.H.I.T.I.

It was something designed to revive a fallen Avenger. Nick Fury put the project in action after Coulson was killed by Loki during the attack on the Helicarrier. Seeing as Fury considered Coulson just as important as his Avengers Initiative. Now you realized what Maria's conversation with Coulson had meant. A magical place. Nothing is more magical than reviving Earth's so-called mightiest heroes. What T.A.H.I.T.I. stood for was soon to be discovered.

Flipping the page, your stomach instantly dropped. Terrestrialized Alien Host Integrative Tissue I, that's what the abbreviation T.A.H.I.T.I. stood for. Using the body fluids of a decaying Kree corpse to make many different serums, S.H.I.E.L.D. had finally made one that worked for completely regenerating cellular tissue and implanting fragments of cellular memory of the host to the receiver, they called it; GH.325.

You then flushed the toilet, and washed your hands, like you had just used the toilet as one normally would. Walking out again you checked if Maria was still sleeping. Mumbling in her sleep and making adorable sounds you figured she was still drifting away into a peaceful slumber.

Carefully getting under the covers again you observed how her chest was rising and falling.

Lost in deep thought you realized that you had fell for her harder than you'd ever like to admit. As you pondered about your feelings for the brunette beside you it didn't take you long to acknowledge how you might end up as the villain in her story.

You manipulated her, but you fell for her in the process. It might have been a mistake, but regardless of that it was a sacrifice because you complied, loyal to HYDRA until the very end.

Turning away from her, you found a comfortable sleeping position and drifted off to sleep, her irresistible face showing up like flashing images in your mind, never giving your poor heart a break.

You quickly woke up when you felt something suddenly weigh down on you, as you opened your eyes you saw that Maria had straddled you, hence the weight. It wasn't a good way to wake up, because the cold blade of her knife was held against your throat.

"You really never are prepared," Maria stated giving you a cold stare.

"What the fuck is going on?" you asked her and gulped when the tip of the blade was threatening to poke a hole to your skin.

"Compliance will be rewarded, huh?" she answered you and gritted her teeth.

"God, you're even stupider than you look. Did you think I didn't know? You really thought you were playing me?!" she asked as she looked like she wanted to slap you across your face. You didn't know what to answer. She knew, and she had known it all this time.

"The minute you walked in the door of that gala; I already knew you were one of HYDRA's brainwashed victims turned into a puppet. Who do you think I was scouting the room for, huh? You were my target, dipshit," she said as she slowly withdrew the knife a few inches.

Hearing her say that made your head spin. How could you be so full of yourself, thinking you were the one manipulating her. Your heart ached more than ever, knowing it was already going to be hard to move on when you thought you were the one playing her, but now it seemed impossible as she was the one who ultimately betrayed you.

Your face said it all. The sad expression starting with your lip nearly quivering, and your eyes on the verge of tearing up. Maria had gone from being one of HYDRA's enemies, to the villain in your story, making you feel like nothing really mattered. Because you did feel love, and you did feel pain. After getting to feel both you knew why love and anger is burning red like blood. It stung like a bitch when you cut yourself on the thorns of love, making the anger boil in you, just like the blood flowing in your veins. Giving your heart away only to get it back full of scars, you watched your own world fall apart.

The anger took over as you slapped her knife out of her hand, then you slapped her face with all the force you managed from this unlucky position. She tried to punch you, but you blocked her. Maria then took a hold of your arms and pinned them up behind your head, like she had done last night.

You headbutted her, taking her by surprise resulting in her letting go of you, giving you the time to push her off the bed, making her fall to the floor. As she landed on her back you practically jumped at her, then started hitting her repeatedly in the face, until her nose started to bleed.

Thinking she was getting tired by all the punches to her face you let your guard down. She hit you square in the jaw and proceeded to grab your throat, trying to strangle you unconscious. That's when you reached out for the knife you had knocked out of her hands just moments ago.

Finally, having picked up the knife you cut her leg, not wanting to stab her since it can cause permanent damage. She shrieked out in pain and her grip on you got weaker, then you kicked her in the chest making her fall back, and you rolled backwards, making as much distance between you.

She crawled over to the nightstand beside the bed. Pulling out a gun, aiming it at you as she caught her breath making her aiming steadier than ever.

"Grant Ward was in the wrong, Romanoff isn't better eye candy if you ask me," you stated, then stole one last glance at the most captivating woman you had ever laid your eyes on, before you then ran out the door and down the corridor to reach the exit. Running down the stairwell you started to comprehend the fact that you had complied to both her and the mission in more ways than one.

All the people watching you as you ran out in the street, half naked and exposed. It was creepy, they were all watchers. It felt like they already knew your story, but they didn't interfere. Things could have ended differently if you left in the middle of the night. You could have acted and done something in the car ride to the hotel. Hell, you could've even killed her before escaping.

In your head you kept asking yourself one question and that was: What if...?

#maria hill #smut #mariahillsmut #wlw smut #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

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anukulee · 2 years

Text

My Home

A/N: I got inspired by both Stay With Me by Sam Smith by Sam Smith and Home by Phillip Phillips for this one so feel free to listen to them while reading this. I also know there is a lot of introduction at the start of this but bear with me. I promise it is all-important for the story. So with that in mind strap in because this won't be a short ride.

Over his thousand years of living as a god, Loki Odinson became well-known for a lot of things. As the idea of him being a god is only one of his qualities and is one that only scratches who he is. For Loki, Odinson is far more than just the god of mischief, something that is only observed by a select few but is a thing that Loki makes no effort to hide.

For example, Loki is the only known member of the royal family, who has come out as liking both genders, while in the past there were rumors about the royals of Asgard, but none of them held enough facts to know for certain. Loki's taste for both genders has always been clear, as when he isn't with his closest female friend, he can be seen with both maidens and bachelors, whether that be him pulling them into a more secure and private place or out in the open. While some of these activities are regarded as mere flirtations others are far less innocent. As soon tales of him warming the beds of anyone no matter their rank or status began to spread around the nine realms and even to Midgard.

Yet in each one of these tales, there were always two things in common. The first being one Loki's clear show of consent, no matter who it is, everyone who has ever had the pleasure to warm the second prince's bed or whose bed has been warmed by him. No matter how kinky the activity was, Loki always ensured that he had the other parties' full consent to do so. This idea even extended to other aspects such as if either party was intoxicated enough not to give full consent Loki would stay away until both parties were clear-minded. Something that can't be said about past royal family members or even other rulers.

The second thing that those who accompanied Loki to a more private setting for more private things is his skill in the bedroom. No matter who warmed his bed, they never had anything but nice things to say about Loki's skills, as he more often found himself either at the top or near the top of most eligible men or at times women despite Loki's reputation as god/goddess of mischief. More often than not Loki could be found in his male form, though there were times even he got bored and she desired to experiment to find ways to bring her partner even more pleasure during their night together.

Loki's idea was that pleasure should be felt by both parties and not just him. Even those who weren't Loki's biggest fans couldn't say anything about his lack of bedroom manner or consent, something that some parties couldn't understand as they would do anything to ensure someone warms their bed. So despite Sif distaste and grudge toward the young prince, even she couldn't discount his treatment of her, in their night of passion. Something that she didn't particularly like to remember, this remained mostly unspoken for fear of Sif and known by few. While knowing this might sound good for all parties involved, there was one party in particular who was always unintentionally harmed by this, that party being Loki's best friend Hilda goddess of conflict, order, and at times wisdom.

While Loki was known for his history of partners, Hilda wasn't as known. While she was made the goddess of conflict given her tendency to be the one who would settle disagreements that Loki's mischief would cause, she couldn't seem to attend to that idea in her own life. As her ever-growing only continued to grow despite her need to push it down. As her feelings for her best friend Loki only seemed to grow with each century that passed, as he was her only idea of home. Yet in truth a home she could never have. She tried everything to try and stop her heart from fluttering at the very sight of him. From reminding herself why it wouldn't be possible to even hear Sif rant about Loki, by stopping her before she got too far. Yet despite this, her feelings for Loki never changed, as Hilda found herself wishing more and more for it all to just stop. None of it was helped by the ever-growing number of Loki's partners, at least that was until it stopped...

Loki's lack of partners didn't stop all at once but slowly began to slow down. From him taking more partners in a year than one could imagine, to only being monthly, then yearly, then maybe a few times a century. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Hilda or by the other members. As talks began to speculate about why the kingdom's most well-known advocate for sex was slowing down. Some said it was because he was growing tired and seeking new adventures, others said he was either losing his touch or he was finally being made to settle down, though fewer said perhaps he had finally found someone who surpassed his need to have sex. They would late be proven correct by their assumption as everything lead back to Hilda, something she choose not to see, for fear of rejection, at least until everything changed.

It had been yet another royal event held for who knows why, yet something nobody particularly questioned. For as long as there was mead, good drinks, and an excuse to party with even better company nobody particularly questioned the notion. By this time, the fact that Loki hadn't taken a partner in quite some time was still talked about through quieter for fear of what the god might do if he found out. While one might think they could avoid these rumors, Hilda seemed to be unable to. As with almost every event she once more found herself alone, as no warrior seemed to want to take an interest in her. As while everyone else around her was pairing up, Hilda was alone. As she watched even Sif found herself in the company of one of the better gentlemen in Asgard. Upon seeing this Hilda let a single sigh escape her lips. A sigh that didn't go unheard by Loki. "Now why may I ask if someone such as you standing alone on a night such as this," he asked.

A single eye roll crossed Hilda's eyes at the sudden appearance of Loki. Her heart still fluttered as it always seemed to do around him. "Ever the drama king aren't you?"

"Trying to change the subject aren't we darling?" This wasn't the first time that the affectionate pet name had slipped from Loki's lips, but was something Hilda chopped up to being his usual flirting nature. Rather then it is because he wished to call her that. A fact she often would remind herself of including in her responses.

"Perhaps what does it matter to you?”

"What can I not care about how my best friend is doing?"

"No, but I wouldn't expect someone such as you to be alone on a night such as this."

"Someone such as me?"

"Loki you do know, I am not blind nor am I dumb."

"I never said you were."

"This party is usually your bread and butter."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"We have decent music, good food, and one might think even better company." Hilda allowed her gaze to go to certain men and maidens though not her type personally, were ones she assumed were Loki's.

"And who to say that your company isn't better than those here?"

"Look around Loki, almost everyone is pairing off, even Sif and she has a distaste for such events."

"Perhaps I would rather spend the time with you, than those around us."

"Why?"

"Why not?" Upon hearing those words slip from Loki's mouth, Hilda felt her heart spread up again almost as if it was gaining hope. A hope that needed to be crushed. As Hilda's next words would do just that.

"Come on there is no need to pity me."

"Who says I pity you?"

"Loki, I have yet to see you in the company of some maiden or non-maiden in some time."

"And that matters why?" A general look of confusion crossed Loki's features something that should've struck Hilda as odd even for him. Yet she was far too busy trying to crush her hope to even notice.

"Because you are you and I am me."

"And there is a difference?"

"Yes."

"And what pray tell is that?"

"Do I honestly need to say it?"

"Perhaps you do because you are confusing me, darling. Something I rarely am, being who I am." A mischievous smile crossed his face for a single second, something that Hilda loved despite others' distaste for it.

"Loki you are someone people usually want to be in the company of."

"Not according to Sif," Loki teased referring to Sif's preference to not wanting to be in Loki's company unless needed.

"Sif is just bitter, that Thor doesn't desire her, and that you usually get the one up on her."

"Through she didn't seem to mind that one time if you know what I mean." Loki allowed his eyebrows to wiggle suggestively, as a small laugh couldn't help but escape from Hilda's lips. The remainder of Loki and Sif's past only served to remind Hilda why she didn't allow her feelings to slip. Although ever since Loki's partners began to die down he became even more flirting with Hilda. As the pet names and affectionate tone seemed to flow from his lips more and more often. Yet rather than rejoice as one might expect Hilda chooses to ignore for fear if she gave in she would just be another body to warm his bed just like all the rest. As she let herself slip further and further into denial as she continued to ignore even when it came especially when it came to those events in particular. Despite the number of pet names that would slip as it had done earlier, Hilda continued to ignore them as she continued per usual. As she let the next words fall from her lips as if she didn't care and her heart didn't break each time she was reminded of Loki's past.

"Yes, but didn't you end up cutting some of her hair off afterwards."

"It was all done in good fun," Loki exclaimed with a shrug.

"Yes, but if I recall correctly and I usually do. Didn't she knee you after that particular accident?"

"Yes, she did and afterward I bathed, and took comfort in you."

"Yes, I know I had to tend to you."

"Yes, you did." Another wiggle of Loki's eyebrows escapes alongside another mischievous smile.

"You act as if we did anything."

"Didn't we?"

"You and I both know all we did was talk and sip some wine."

"Yes, I know."

"And if I recall didn't you get her back for that particular accident later?"

"Remind me how I did that again because I seem to have forgotten."

"As if."

"Come on please for me," Loki asked switching on what midgardians would call a puppy dog face. Something that never failed to work on Hilda.

"Fine if I recall to make up for it you accidentally claimed you could only replace her hair with a heavy wig made like gold. A wig that she hated."

"I did."

"Through didn't both Thor and I get onto about that one."

"Yes, you and my brother teamed up on poor me and made me give her real hair once more."

"As if you weren't going to do it."

"Yes, but maybe I wanted to leave her in the search for a little while longer."

"And risk her wrath again?"

"Perhaps I like it that way." Loki let out another wiggle of his eyebrows, which resulted in a soft hit to his chest.

"Seriously must you?"

"Always especially with you, love." Rather than let out another smirk, Loki's eyes were filled with something else almost as if they were affection. Yet with that, something seemed to tick something in Hilda not helped by the affectionate name.

"Why must you?"

"Why must I what?"

"Do this."

"Do what?"

"Call me those names? You do know I am not one of your maidens, princes, or others."

"Yes, I am quite aware of that fact."

"Then why do you do this? Surely you see how it makes me feel."

"Feel?"

"Yes feel. You are the god of lies surely you can see through mine."

"Lies why have you not been telling me."

"Wouldn't you like to know because clearly, you don't see them?"

"See what?" As Loki's voice got a little bit higher upon saying this.

"That I am in love with you and have been for centuries," Hilda blurted, without thinking. Yet upon hearing herself say those words, Hilda knew one thing and one thing alone she needed to run. Far away perhaps she could get Heimdell to let her go elsewhere and come back for her things when she knew nobody would be there. Hilda always planning for the worst at least that was until when she started to run Loki grabbed her hand. "Please don't do this." A look of desperation crossed her face though nobody aside from Loki seemed to pay any mind. Almost as if there was an illusion cast to hide them.

"Do what?"

"Make me stay and act as if you feel the same."

"And what if I do?"

"Please Loki we both know that you don't."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know maybe with the number of partners you have in the past. Not that I am shaming you, you should be able to share your bed with whomever you choose."

"And what if I want that person to be you?”

"Loki please don't."

"Don't what?"

"Act as if you care."

"But I do."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do especially with you."

"Then why do this?"

"Do what?"

"Allow me to watch as everyone, but I am allowed to warm your bed? And don't you dare claim it was a distraction."

"I wasn't going to, because at the time they weren't."

"What do you mean?"

"I know this may sound douche, but bear with me please."

"And why should I?"

"If you still don't like what I have to say then you can leave and I won't stop you."

"You wouldn't fight me for me?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"Fine, but I swear if you try anything you will regret it."

"I don't doubt that my love. Now may I continue?"

"Fine."

"As I was saying they weren't distractions whatsoever. Through as time went on I started to feel as if they were all missing something. A certain quality to them that I desired."

"And what was that?"

"The feeling of home."

"Oh."

"No matter how much I bickered with some none of them felt quite as home as with you. At first, I thought it was because we've known each other for centuries. Yet as time passed, I found myself noticing more and more things about you."

"Such as?"

"How your lips press when you are concentrating, the way your fingers slowly trap around when you are trying to think of something, the way your eyes light up whenever you are particularly excited, the way you can be so focused that you ignore everything around you, the way our bickering is so easy yet so fulfilling, or maybe the way no matter who I am with even with mother, I always want to come home to you."

"And that changed everything?"

"It did because as soon as I realized what I was feeling wasn't just friendship. I stopped any flings, I didn't want to use them as an excuse to sleep with whomever as means of a distraction. I let loose the pet names hoping you would pick them up. Yet it seems it didn't pan out quite as I hoped."

"You think?" A look of seriously crossed Hilda's face, as Loki let out a small chuckle as he allowed his fingers to rub against Hilda's hands which he had taken into his own.

"I know, the question is do you still want to leave?"

As much as Hilda wanted to say yes. Another question seemed to cross Hilda's mind something she hadn't remembered until just now. Something that needed to be expressed especially if they were going to be able to move forward. As she let something slip out of her mouth. "I honestly don't know Loki."

"And why is that my dear?"

"Because though I love you I don't want to stop you from being who you are."

"And why would you do that?"

"Loki you switch genders at times. And as much as I am attracted to you as a male, I am not sure if I am towards females. Not that I have anything against your gender change. I just don't want to hurt you or us because of my lack of interest in the same sex. Nor do I want to conform you to one gender because I prefer men."

"I see."

"I didn't think of it because honestly, I didn't think this would ever happen so it didn't cross my mind."

"We could always wait to come to that bridge when we cross it."

"While that sounds appealing we can't. Because it may be tomorrow or it could be centuries. I don't know and I don't want to hurt you because I don't know."

"We could always try and see how it goes."

"Could we?"

"I mean you rarely see me as a woman and I can be quite charming as you know."

"I know, but are you sure I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to."

"You wouldn't as you said I may feel like a woman soon or maybe it could be centuries. If you were willing to just try I would be up for it."

"And if I am not?"

"We can cross that bridge later."

"But we can't."

"Can't we?"

"I don't know?"

"You do know no matter what gender I am. I am still your Loki whether that be male or female. Only my looks and voice change but I don't nor does my love for you change."

"I know, but I don't want to force you Loki."

"You won't again, we don't know what I will feel like experimenting or if I will anytime soon. Or how you will feel because this is new to both of us. So why don't we wait and see what comes."

"And then what happens?"

"We can deal with it later just please let us have a chance. Don't give up on us before we've even tried."

"Are you sure about this because say the word and..."

At this Loki leaned in closer to Hilda. "And nothing the future can wait. Can it not?"

"Are you sure?"

"As long as I am with you it doesn't matter besides who knows what can happen especially with me?" Another wiggle escaped Loki's eyebrows.

"Cocky as ever."

"Would you have me any other way?"

"Sadly no."

"Now will you allow me to make up for a lost time?"

"Perhaps." At this Hilda allowed her eyebrows to wiggle as Loki let out his own smile as he pulled her in for a kiss. Once Loki's spell over them was lifted the two would spend the night making up for much of their lost time in both words of affection and other activities through not without protection. As finally, the two had found their way home, unknownst of the future regarding Loki as long as they had each other they could get through it. As to the two of them, they were each other home.

A/N: Loki's fluidness for gender is known, as he has both male and female forms. Not everyone is attracted to females even if it is Loki. I am one of those people. I will not shame anyone who is attracted to both sides. Through I thought it would be something of importance to discuss in Loki's relationship. In this case, Hilda isn't one to shame Loki because of what he or at times she feels like. But she isn't sure what she will feel if Loki changes gender nor does she want to force Loki to be a gender they aren't feeling. It's why I left that, particularly thing open because we don't know what Loki feels like being. I would like to imagine that Hilda would feel love for Loki no matter what gender they are. Though it might take some time to adjust, or maybe it won't again I don't know because Loki's gender could change in a snap of our fingers. So yeah that's why the end turned out the way it was. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it and I will see you all next time.

#angst with happy ending #good bro thor #Good Loki #Bi Loki

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