#like granted that was more to do with shield and not a desire to stop fighting bad guys

[autumnrory]

not enough people write stucky being married/having kids tbh

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Dear author god,oh how you have fed us well,but yet. We crave more, and we desire more. It is time. Give us the confession. We will be counting on you and expecting greatness. May you give us the most bountiful feast to finally satiated. 👁👁 do let us down,our dear author god,we believe in your magnificence.

"YUÁN FÈN!!"

Your voice echoed in the Land of Those Memories, alongside the flash of the two weapons. The barrier prevented everyone to move in in the fight; even Bajie couldn't do anything but watch impotent the duel between the Destined One and the broken Shell of the Stone Monkey.

The truth was already too hard to digest, but tò accept that your beloved Yuán fèn was fighting to become fully the new Sub Wukong, which was beyond your liking.

The shield that prevented you from getting in, wasn't the Bián huá made to assist the Destined One?! Why some old ruler granted One to the Destined One if they couldn't assist him at the right time?!

"Child," the eldest spoke, "this is not something that you can take. Your duty is done; now you just had to watch."

"NO!"

Your voice was cracking; you kept pushing through that barrier, to the point that it even hurt. Your hands, fueled with your energy, clashed against it, generating a screech where the impact began.

"I'm done watching! I won't leave him! He needs him; he always does! I won't let a stupid old monkey kill him!"

Bajie suddenly reached you, trying to take your away, but it was like you were made of stone.

"Y/n stop! Your hands! Look at your hands!"

You didn't care of your hands; you didn't care that the fiction of the two powers was scratching your skin so hard that the pure flash was exposed. You didn't care that the same energy was burning your flesh, that your tips were coming off one by one, that the smell was unbearable, and that the dripping blood was making the water red. You didn't care about yourself; you cared about him. 

With that thought in mind, something happened. What you remember is that at some point some crack appeared, and a huge flash engulfed you.

You don't know many things. After that, just two pair of eyes watching you—one that remebered you the ember of a fire, the second one that was full of the worry as you.

When you woke up, the fight was already over. The smell of your burnt flesh, the blood that was still flinging from your wounds, your head that was burning like he'll—everything seems confused. Bajie was there, trying to wake you up from your state, telling you to go, to go away before the exit was too late.

In your pain, an image struck you: Yuán Fèn kneeling, the elders with something in his hands, the sun setting, making it look almost like a scene from a movie. The last ray of sun illuminated something that made your blodd freezer like ice.

That damn circlet.

"N...no!"

Despite the protest of Bajie and your own body, you stand up. Every step hurt, every movement was like hell, but you just couldn't stop.

"You... you don't have tò...bare his name...you don't owe him nothing!"

The elder, holding the circlet, looked at you with sympathy. Yuán Fèn didn't even move, stuck in a trance that something had cast on him.

You stumbled a few times, the waves that you made punk from the blood, yours, and of the precious fight. 

When your body gave up, you collapsed on his back, your trembling hands trying to embrace him and wake him up. 

You cried, tears and blood mizing together.

"You did this...you made this...you're my Yuán fèn...you're my friend...and I don't want to go back to a world where you're not in it...I..."

What is freedom if not the right to choose?

" ...I..." Your hands trembled, scratching that damn golden armor. 

What is freedom if not the chance to obtain what his heart desires the most?

"I...GODDAMIT! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU, YOU STUPID IDIOT! YUÁN FÈN I LOVE YOU!"

What is freedom to not stay with the one he loved?

His eyes glowed more than the sun that was disappearing in the horizon. His staff blasted away from every eye's view that damn circlet. The elder, in his calmness, seemed pleased.

He couldn't deel him anymore in your arma, but you were ingulfed in his own, strong and warm, capable of destroying and protecting you at the same time.

"I love you! I love you too!" His voice cracked, and tears started to erupt from his hips and eyes too. "I'm Sorry! I don't know how to bring you home! And... I don't think... I don't think I wanted too."

"It's allright!" Your smile was enough to warm his heart; your own tears shone with the sunlight. "Where are you supposed to go if you're not with me?"

"Say it again! I want to hear you again! Please!" He pleaded, holding you like your world was ready to claim again.

"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you."

His lips stopped your mantra, and you didn't need to keep it up because your lips met his own speed, holding him so close.

Your tears, your blood, everything merged in that veil of memories. And so, under the eyes of friends, celestials, and the world itself, two souls had claimed each other.

@sun-jglim

@sleepingdramaqueen

@crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers @certifiedsimpinggalore

@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @dressycobra7 @virtualexpertanchor

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@kirax-the-lazy-girl

[esoteriamaya]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.8 PLANET PLACEMENTS 101

Aries Placements - Have the ability to drive anything into fruition. They can have a goal and see the plan through with an interesting amount of imagination and practicality in place. These aren't the type to sit down and 'wait' for things to come to them, they will simply be stubborn enough to do it themselves. Everything may not have gone as planned on the first go, but with time and stability they will come out greater and gain a sense of self-mastery in their craft.

Venus Placements - People with venusian aspects like sun/moon/rising have a gift that contains a higher amount of charm then most. These individuals can utilize their personalities in a way that will get them favored. Like their gemini friends, they can be a lil tricky to figure out. It is because they are able to use their beauty as a shield (as well as an illusion) to get what they want in life. It is only when they are self aware of this gift, they can use it to get whatever it is they desire.

Neptunian Placements - Neptunians have a gift in being the muse of creation. They are splendid in their craft of creating safe spaces for their imagination to dwell in. Whether its through art, fashion or just simply existing, like their aquarian buddies they have this gift of connecting to the stars way before everyone can catch up. They can come off a bit crazy to others, but in hindsight they are deeply aware of self and have a mass amount of empathy that allows them to read reality the way it is, and share that insight with the rest of the world.

Pluto Placements - Plutonians can undergo a lot of stress when they allow things to fester without bringing attention to the matter. These are the individuals to suffer in silence and by not saying a word they can cut out any forms of emotional support if they are not aware of themselves to escape the astro-cities that can sometimes be the danger of their own mind. (Moon/Pluto Placements - Outlets for your emotional expression is a necessity.) When there is no guidance for your emotions to thrive you will end up rageful and continuing to feel the lesser dense emotions hiding in your body. It will eventually way on you and it'll take a toll on your spirit. The power beneath this placement is to hold on tightly to that powerful entity you know is divine no matter what they tell you.

Plutonian Individuals may find themselves in the arms of people who are testifying their gifts right in front of you. Some wish to belittle and do harm to you because in the mirror they do not see the same light or dark power that you continue to see in yourself. So these people will always try to bite you to get a piece of it themselves, but in the end it never turns out the way they think. It turns sour.

Sun Placements - So I noticed the more sun placements an individual has, the more difficult this energy can be to surrender to. A person with sun/neptune may have a difficulty with expressing their empathic nature because the world isn't connected to their astral body like they are. When they express themselves, its like their connecting to their soul that feels out of the human experience. They have a different connection to the world then most, so they'll be often misunderstood. But in general, sun placements can feel a bit off in society because the world is always saying their cocky or arrogant when really they are free of the world and its restraints. Sun placements (no matter how big or small the aspect) have to deal with a lot of people taking themselves for granted. When they are sent to be a light, others are horrified by their shadows being shined on (sun/pluto). The more placements (especially conjunctions you have) the more you'll be tempted to stop the light since others will attempt to bring you down with them. It's a path that builds for a leader to take ship, not to dim down.

Uranian Placements - Ahead of their time but mostly because the world isn't ready for change. When these individuals get a hand on how society operates, they become powerhouses who are the tyrants ready for newness.These brainiacs are capable of being connected to the cosmos where receiving divine information on how to move and where to go gives them great benefit. They only thing I can say to them is, you have to be mindful of the company you keep. Because not everyone can see the vision. Do not allow any and everybody to take up space for whatever it is you claim as yours. Just because THEY can't see it doesn't mean its not real. Again, the things you see come through in your mind is a gift that the cosmic connections of space gave to you. You know the true concept of time more than anyone else, and with that you are able to gather up the right information, make your abilities/skills stronger than ever and than boom. The big bang. It all works in the end, dont force yourself to know everything. Just focus on the stars.

[doumadono]

i can just imagine enji taking his sweet girl’s virginity! her tears, his moans.

(please i want this written so baddd)

Warnings: deflowering, blood, Enji is divorced

SINFUL SUNDAY

Dating Enji Todoroki, the renowned Number One Hero, had been a whirlwind experience. Despite the significant age difference, his gruff demeanor, and the shadows of his past, you'd fallen hard for the man beneath the hero's façade. The days you spent together were a blend of passion, understanding, and warmth.

One evening, as you snuggled together on his plush living room couch, a cozy fire crackling in the background, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you'd come. The two of you were wrapped in each other's arms, Enji's muscular frame providing a comforting shield.

You leaned your head on his broad shoulder, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Enji, I never thought I'd find someone like you."

He turned to you, his sharp eyes softening as he met your gaze. "And I never expected to find someone who could see past the hero and see the man."

You traced a finger over his chiseled jawline. "I love the hero, but I love the man even more."

Enji's lips quirked into a small, genuine smile. "You've brought light back into my life. After the divorce with Rei, I thought I'd be alone forever."

You kissed his cheek and nestled deeper into his embrace. "You're not alone, Enji. You have me, and I'm not going anywhere."

He let out a deep sigh, his arms tightening around you. "I don't deserve you."

You shook your head. "It's not about deserving, it's about what feels right. And being with you feels right, Enji."

On that particular evening, your passionate make-out session had reached an intense level. Deep kisses and exploratory caresses had ignited the room. Enji's hands, once focused on your upper body, began to venture lower, his calloused fingers gently caressing your lower thighs.

Both of you were partially undressed - you from the waist up and Enji as well. As his touch grew more intimate, he attempted to explore further, trying to slip his fingers between your legs. However, when he made this move, you pulled back slightly, placing your hand on his to stop him. "We can't do this. I'm a virgin, and I'm not ready yet, Enji," you exclaimed.

Todoroki was taken aback by your confession. Throughout your previous dates, he had assumed that you were simply taking the relationship slow and easy. The realization that you were still a virgin and likely very inexperienced surprised him, and turned him on at the same time. Despite his initial frustration, Enji respected your wishes. With a sigh of understanding, he reluctantly ended your make-out session for the day, realizing that some things were worth waiting for.

With an air of confidence, the next time found you entangled in a passionate embrace, this time within the confines of your shared bedroom. As per tradition, both of you were already bared from the waist up, setting the stage for a night of unrestrained desire. Amidst the heated exchange of kisses, Enji proposed a new level of intimacy, suggesting that you both shed the remaining layers and continue in just your underwear for the sake of comfort. It was a proposition he half-expected you to challenge, but to his astonishment, you granted your consent without hesitation. Without missing a beat, the two of you promptly disrobed to nothing but your undergarments.

The fervent exchange of kisses continued, as Enji once more sought to explore the depths of your desires, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path toward your pussy. Although initial hesitance tinged your reactions, he remained determined, kissing you deeply and caressing your right breast, all the while allowing his right hand to venture closer to the haven of your womanhood. You squirmed ever so slightly, yet your unyielding commitment to the passionate exchange prevailed. Time passed, and his unwavering determination yielded its desired result. Overcome with arousal, your legs involuntarily began to part, a silent testament to the undeniable chemistry that ignited the fervor between you two. Soon yet, your undergarments went off as well.

In a display of unyielding confidence, Enji found himself nestled between your legs, taking control of the situation. The firm, throbbing tip of his cock hovered teasingly at the threshold of your cunny, tantalizing but not yet delving inside. You two were locked in a passionate embrace, mouths fused together, hands exploring, every sensation amplified except for that final, exquisite connection.

The anticipation was palpable. Enji's craving for you was evident as he let the tip of his dick glide sensually along the contours of your eager sex. It wasn't just him who was feeling it; you were equally consumed by desire, so much so that your legs involuntarily spread wider in anticipation.

With exquisite patience, he commenced his conquest. He inched his way into your eager cunt, each thrust bringing him deeper into your sweet cherry. As he kissed you with unrestrained passion and caressed your every curve, he felt the sweet resistance of your soft, quivering flesh gently welcoming him. Your silky, moist folds enclosed around him, bit by tantalizing bit, creating a symphony of sensations that heightened the intensity of the moment.

As you came to realize that you were about to be deflowered, a surge of uncertainty washed over you. In an attempt to regain control, you attempted to close your legs, but it was futile as his cock was already partially penetrating your pussy.

Soon, Enji was at your cherry and he could feel the barrier. As he distracted you with more kisses, he thrust his entire, huge cock into your pussy and poped your cherry.

You cried out a little and he held still to let you get used to the feeling. "It hurts, Enji! Oh my God!"

Enji leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto yours as he gently cupped your face with one hand, his fingers grazing your cheek, and he whispered, "You're incredibly brave."

As the flames of passion began to smolder and a sense of tranquility settled between you, you found solace in the comforting press of your lips against Enji's once more. The connection between you was undeniable, even as he remained rigid, buried deeply within you.

With a measured grace, he eased his pulsating length partway out of your cunt, its surface glistening with a mixture of your shared desire and the hint of blood. A bead of crimson oozed out of your cunt and Enji groaned deeply at the sight. He was oh so turned on.

While you continued your fervent exchange of kisses, he embarked on a deliberate rhythm. The pace was unhurried yet his thrusts were strong.

Your cunt was so tight and felt great. Soon, you started getting into the rhythm of the fucking and were enjoying yourself, moaning a little, yet some tears rolled down your cheeks as you were filled to the brim by Todoroki's dick.

"That's it, doll, take it. Relax for me," he instructed in that low voice of his. His cock was buried balls-deep in your cunt, his balls slapped against your pussy with each of his thrusts.

In that intense moment, Enji's passion reached its zenith, and he thrust into you with an unrestrained fervor, delving as deeply as he possibly could, growling. Within a matter of heartbeats, his primal desire led to an explosive release deep within your recently deflowered cunt, filling you with the warmth of his seed.

Your shared bed bore witness to the mingling of passion and vulnerability. The culmination of your encounter left a tapestry of intimacy etched upon your bodies, with a mixture of cum, blood, and the juices of your union exuding from your vagina. You reclined, breathless and satisfied, a hand instinctively moving to shield your modesty, your fingers grazing over your tender core; you were shivering all over your body.

But Enji wouldn't allow you to hide in that vulnerable moment. His voice, filled with sincerity, broke through the haze of post-passion, "Stop it, Y/N. You're incredibly beautiful. And I love you." He wrapped his strong arms around you, kissing your temple.

[pedroshotwifey]

Alone Always

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Genre: Angst

Prompt: "You shouldn't have done that."

Word count: 824

Tags/warnings: unrequited pining/obsession, mentions of sex, no physical description of reader, physical violence out of self defense, grinding, self-deprecation/depressive thoughts, hurt, no comfort, no happy ending

A/N: This is my addition to @iamasaddie's color writing challange! It's a super cute idea and I can't wait to see everyone else's fics!

*****

Your entire body is buzzing, your head foggy with lust. You’re sitting on Mando’s lap in his bunk, fucking finally. You’ve been pining after him since you joined him to help around the Crest, and now you know he’s been pining after you, too. 

Either that, or he’s just bored. You really don’t want to think about it, but there’s a sinking feeling in your stomach despite your excitement that’s telling you that’s why he gave in. He’s bored and lonely and you’re too easy not for him to have. 

He doesn’t seem to be super enthusiastic about being with you, per say, but rather about being with someone in general. Though enthusiastic might be a little too, well, enthusiastic to describe the way he’s acting. You’re not special to him, and you know it deep inside, no matter how much it hurts or keeps you awake at night. 

He’s told you as much, told you that he’s not interested in a relationship, much less so a relationship with you. You’d cried yourself to sleep that night, but told yourself that he just doesn’t want to let himself love something so soon after the loss of his son. 

That’s why you stop the tears from welling now, and instead force yourself to keep grinding down over his hardening cock. It hurts so damn much to be unwanted, but it seems that you’ve known so much of that in your life thus far, that it’s easier to shake it off and convince yourself that it’s for another reason.

“Waited for you, Mando,” you breathe as you pull yourself tighter to him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and his are planted for stability on the cot behind him. “Wanted you for so long.” You plant a kiss on the armor covering his chest, protecting his heart. 

He says nothing as you continue your movement, telling yourself over and over again not to take it personally. But as your heart clenches, you wish that you had beskar of your own to hide it for you. It’s seen enough hurt to deserve such a shield. 

Suddenly, Mando moves his hands to grip your waist, wordlessly flipping you around. He lays you on your back and starts to unbutton your pants. He watches his fingers work instead of looking at your face. You wonder for a moment if he understands how badly you want him, and how much you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for being needy and annoying and lonely. You just want to feel loved, at least desired for a little while, and if this is the only way he’ll grant it to you, so be it. 

He starts to peel your pants from your legs, pulling them away and tossing them on the floor behind him before crawling over you and unzipping his own pants. He still doesn’t spare you a glance, looking anywhere but in your eyes. Like you’re absolutely nothing. 

You don’t know why the hurt turns to frustration so quickly, but it does, and there’s not much you can do about it. Your hands fly up to his helmet just as he gets his zipper undone. You only have the intention to grab hold of him to get him to look at you, but you understand how that looks really bad as his own hands snap up to grab yours in a crushing grip. 

You yelp as he grasps your fingers so hard that they feel like they’re bruising against each other. Tears spring to your eyes, but you know that it’s as much from the internal pain as it is from your hands. You’re so desperate for attention, to be wanted, that you just don’t fucking think. 

He holds you there for a second, watching without emotion as your tears start to overflow. You don’t know how to tell him that it’s not what it looks like without sounding even more pathetic than you already do. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” his deep, gravelly voice comes from the modulator.” 

“I know, Mando, I-I’m sorry,” you sob gently. You wish more than anything that he could feel what you’re feeling right now and just understand. But you know that he can’t, and even if he could, he wouldn’t. You’re nothing to him—why should he care? It doesn’t matter how full of shame and regret you are. 

He releases you after what feels like another ten minutes passes, feeling coming back to your numb hands as he backs away, pulls up his zipper, and starts walking away. Your cries become audible, panic setting in as you realize that you’re once again going to be left alone. 

“I’m dropping you off at the next stop,” he tosses coldly over his shoulder. “Get your things packed.” 

You just lay there in defeat, tears streaming down your cheek as heavily as the ache weighing in your heart, as the door shuts behind him.

[stellar-solar-flare]

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | S.R.

Chapter 2: Looking For The Happy Ending

Explicit - 18+ only! | Steve Rogers/Doctor!Reader

Your friend set you up with a perfect guy. Unfortunately, when it's time for you to meet 'Grant' for the first time, he has stood you up. On Valentine's Day of all days.

Was it too good to be true? Or does he instead have a very, very good reason why he's late, and a desire to make it all up to you?

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AUTHOR AO3

<< Previous chapter

Fluff, hurt/comfort, meet-cute, misunderstandings, eventual smut, healthy communication. | Background Sam Wilson/OFC.

Chapter Word Count: 2696 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her, late twenties (a few years younger than Steve in this fic). Training to be a trauma surgeon (has completed med school, in residency stage). Likes books and houseplants. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

A/N: I wanted to write a Valentine's Day oneshot, and then it turned out it has parts. Oh no. Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little trope collection! As always, thank you for reading, and hearing what you think means a lot to me.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption. The Avengers are living together in the Compound - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

Chapter Warnings: Discussion of Steve's canonical trauma; mentions of Steve/Peggy.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 2: Looking For The Happy Ending

A part of you was really, really glad that you had decided to order the wine; you could feel your nerves flaring up, now that the initial surprise at the evening’s direction had passed. It was less so that he was Captain America, the literal superhero, the most eligible bachelor in the entire country according to many, and more so that his musky scent and his warm presence were going straight to your head. It felt like on some level, after all the conversations, you already knew who he was, but messages couldn’t have prepared you for everything. Like how the sheer presence this man had, how he could simply stand next to you and send off a signal that he was completely aware of you, was making your head spin. Feeling some initial curiosity and a little crush over messages was one thing; being hit in the face with the raw, sparkling physical attraction you were feeling was quite another. And even as you didn’t exchange words — too much attention here, too many ears listening — you could see Steve stealing looks at you over the brief minutes you waited.

You weren’t quite so sure any more that you didn’t believe in fairy tales.

The car arrived so fast that you were at least half-certain that Steve had carried it with him, tucked into his back pocket with the assistance of some Tony Stark’s bordering-on-magic technology. You barely had time to get your food back in a cardboard takeout container and finish the glass of wine before Steve glanced at his smartwatch and told you that the car was waiting.

You reached for your purse to pay the bill, and he stopped you with a gentle hand placed on your forearm. He’d slipped into the bathroom earlier to wash the worst of the dirt off his hands and face, and now, when he wasn’t afraid of making a mess out of you — oh, your subconscious needed to get things together or you weren’t going to survive this night — you could feel the entirety of his palm pressed on your bare skin.

“Please. Let me. That’s the least I can do for having kept you waiting,” he murmured, his eyes in yours.

He was already going to cook for you; you thought about arguing about the fact, but looking into his eyes, it was clear that this was very important to him. You could have afforded it, certainly, and it did feel a little unfair to let him pay when he hadn’t been enjoying the food at all. But since he was on Tony Stark’s payroll, you doubted the few drinks, the appetizer, and the fish and chips you now held under your right hand were going to make much of a dent in his cash. If it made him feel better…

“Only if you insist,” you replied after a beat, smile on your face.

“Oh, I do,” he smiled. “A lady never pays on the first date. That’s the rule. Especially when I asked her out.”

Apparently, Steve’s rules for a first date also included helping you into your coat and paying for the tip of the person working in the cloakroom. His hands were warm when they brushed against your shoulders as you slipped into the coat he was holding up, even as he didn’t linger. It seemed that he ran hot, or that the suit had some sort of temperature regulation built into it, because he didn’t seem to mind stepping from the warm restaurant into the cold February evening. The biting wind made you huddle deeper into your coat for the few steps from the door to the car waiting at the curbside.

“Ladies first,” Steve smiled, reaching to open the front passenger door of the decidedly nondescript black SUV.

Before you could ask, you realized that the driver’s seat was empty.

When he’d mentioned calling the car, you had obviously assumed that he’d be calling someone to drive you over to the Avengers Initiative Campus upstate; instead, he had literally called the car.

“It’s not on the public market yet,” Steve said, answering your wordless question. “Something Tony’s been tinkering with. It’s easier if we have vehicles stashed here and there in fully automated garages.”

“For date-related emergencies?” you grinned as you slipped into the seat, guiding your skirts with a hand as you did.

“Among other things. Although I don’t find myself in this situation very often,” he said as he closed the door after a quick glance to check that your skirt wasn’t going to get caught in the door. “It isn’t the kind of guy I want to be.”

He was smiling, but there was something underneath his tone. For the few seconds it took for him to go around the car and settle in to the driver’s seat after tossing the shield in the backseat — heedless of the white leather of the car and the grime on his suit — you thought about it.

It couldn’t be easy for him to date; not with the reputation and the fame attached to his title. And not with the demands of his job causing all sorts of delays and rain checks; all the emotions coming through his voice had already told you as much. He would’ve accepted it if you hadn’t been willing to give him a second chance after almost standing you up. He would’ve left it there and never bothered you again. And yes, perhaps that would’ve been fair — there was nothing wrong with not wanting to deal with your significant other having a job like that. But the same could also be said about your job.

Instead of replying immediately, you let him focus on merging into the traffic, even as you realized that compared to the things he usually did, driving — even in New York — was probably as easy as breathing. You shifted in your seat to recline more comfortably.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re that guy,” you replied. “Not the one to keep someone waiting without a very good reason, and not someone who dates just for the thrill.”

He gave you a chuckle in reply, but something about the way he glanced at you was so warm that it tingled in your veins.

“Thank you. And it does mean a lot. I can’t say I…” he murmured, his eyes back on the road again and you were certain it wasn’t just about the traffic. “I didn’t exactly have the easiest time concentrating today. I kept thinking that I’d blown the chance to have something great once again, that the world had again decided that I wasn’t making it to a date.”

His words lingered in the air for a few seconds, during which you very clearly understood what he was talking about. Of course, it was ancient history in more ways than one, but everyone knew the story of Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter and the dance that had needed one hell of a rain check because he had sacrificed himself to save the world from the alien weapon. After the seconds ticked by, he glanced at you again, redness on his cheeks and something panicked in his eyes.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, I don’t… I’m not comparing, I don’t want to compare, I’m not looking for any sort of replacement for a road not traveled, it’s just…”

He sighed, trailing off again. His eyes stared forward, and his hands squeezed the wheel of the car hard enough that they might leave finger-shaped dents behind. Finally, he spoke again, something resigned in his voice:

“I’m sorry. Look, if you don’t want to do this, if you don’t feel like you’re up for this after that, just say the word and I’ll drop you off where you want,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to make you feel like you’re a second choice or anything like that. I’m obviously not great at this and if you don’t want to deal with that… ”

“Hey,” you said very softly. “No need to go looking for a grenade to throw yourself on, Captain. This isn’t an army camp.”

You reached over, letting your fingertips brush the top of his hand right there on the edge of where the wrist turned into the back of his palm. He glanced over at you again as you sank back to your seat, and even with the brief contact, you didn’t miss the fragile hope in his gaze.

“I’d rather hear how you feel than leave this car,” you continued. “I don’t think there’s anything very surprising about those things crossing your mind, and it doesn’t have to be about comparison. Obviously being faced with rather similar circumstances to the ones that were present when something very traumatic happened to you would bring up memories. Of events, and of people.”

Some of the tension drained away from Steve’s shoulders, but the chuckle that left his mouth was a little joyless.

“You’re pretty good at that,” he said.

“I’ve trained,” you raised your brows. “Comes with the skillset. But seriously, I’d understand if you need a rain check after what has obviously been a pretty intense day for you. We could plan something else.”

Your eyes flickered back to that cut on his chest, visible through the tear in the suit. The wound was already closing, and probably in a few hours it would be completely gone. You wondered if people thought that the same also happened to everything he experienced. If the public accounts about the eidetic memory were true, then he remembered everything, and even as his brain was probably better at processing things and arriving at the place where he could look at experiences logically, that didn’t mean the experience wasn’t intense.

You pulled yourself back to reality, reeling in the doctor and the researcher in your head and looking up at him again. He was staring at you — as much as he could, with his head halfway turned towards the road, but nothing about the way he was driving indicated that he wasn’t focusing on that, too.

“Is everything alright?” you said.

He breathed out, scrambling for words again as he returned his complete attention to the road.

“No, yes, it is, I mean…” he breathed back in, gathering his composure. “I am not used to anyone… getting that. Or even asking that.”

Something twisted in your chest, and had he not been driving, you would’ve wanted to take both his hands into yours. It hadn’t taken you more than a few texts with him to realize that this was a thoughtful man with a big heart and so much to give, and now, it didn’t surprise you that he wasn’t used to people understanding what it was like to be him.

“I don’t think anyone can ever understand another’s experience, not really,” you said. “And I wouldn’t dream of thinking that I know what it’s like to be you, what it was like to go through everything you have gone through. But I know how it is to have to be the one who has everything under control in the operating room. I know how it feels to feel like your job takes over all other aspects of your life. How it is to wonder if you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life and… And thinking that the best chance of finding something great you had had in a long time had just slipped through your fingers.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks as you said the last words. They had halfway escaped your lips, brought forth by the way he’d accidentally served you his heart on a platter. Even as you hadn’t been fighting gods-knew-what in Antarctica, it had still been quite an emotionally intense night, and that was obviously bringing everything out in the open. You lowered your gaze to your hands in your lap, not really daring to look at him. You might’ve just made everything beyond awkward.

But when Steve spoke, it didn’t feel like that. His voice was genuinely warm, so warm it made the atmosphere change too. As if some sort of miniature sun had suddenly been trapped in the car and its rays were now transforming whatever floated in the air into something you could just let be there, existing in between the two of you.

Forming a bond of trust.

“Thank you,” he said. “For trying to understand. And for telling me all that.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should need to thank me for,” you murmured back. “But I do want to hear, if you want to talk about it. And I want to hear as someone who wants to get to know you, not as someone who is a medical professional.”

The cautious smile on his face had spread a little, and upon your disclaimer, it briefly lit up his whole face. Then, his expression returned to a more somber state, but it wasn’t quite heavy anymore. Just serious, as he looked back to what had once been, and a tiny hint of nostalgia had crept into his voice.

“I think it took me a couple of years to get back out here not because of any burning love for Peggy but because I needed to let go of the life I would’ve had, could’ve had, back in the forties. So that everything wouldn’t be tainted by comparison, not to something that was necessarily better but to something that was familiar. I’d built all these hopes about my life, if I got healthy, if I got into the army, if I met someone with whom we’d hit off… Realistically, it wouldn’t necessarily have been Peggy. It might’ve been, but it might not have worked out at all with her if things had ever progressed beyond some chemistry and one kiss in the middle of a war zone. But I had these images in my head about a happy ending and everything it meant in that era, and I think that if I’d tried to find one here earlier, before I went through all the therapy, I would’ve not been able to appreciate the good things — not because they wouldn’t have been as good or better than what I’d thought I’d have but simply because it wouldn’t have been the exact image I had conjured in my mind. And now, when I finally felt like I was ready to try to find that happy ending again, I was pretty scared that something great was going to slip through my fingers again, as you put it,” he said, and smiled a little sheepishly as he stopped. “I don’t know if that makes any sense. But I don’t want a rain check, if you don’t, despite everything.”

You smiled, not just at his honesty but the admission in between the lines, that he truly thought this might become that happy ending and that it had already felt like something great to him. It wasn’t really a surprise, after what he’d said about being marriage-minded when it came to dating — realistically, things wouldn’t have progressed this far if he hadn’t been thinking that — but it was still different to hear it like this, sitting right next to him and feeling the words, rather than as an explanation of his general mindset over messages.

“I think it makes a lot of sense. And I appreciate your honesty, and the fact that you worked on yourself and made sure you are doing things for the right reasons,” you said. “And for what it’s worth…”

You smiled to yourself, peeling open the cardboard container that held your food and extending it to him.

“…I don’t see a reason why this night can’t be absolutely great despite everything. Want some fish and chips?”

He chuckled, reaching over to grab a fry. As he did, he brushed his little finger briefly over the knuckles of your hand holding the box, sending a tingling feeling of electricity up your arm, and you knew that he heard what you’d said between the lines, too.

I don’t see a reason why this can’t be our happy ending.

Next Chapter >>

[honeybummer]

Chapter 21 "The Prey" now posted! Fic - "Bloodstained" Spoilers & smut belowwwww: "

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the storm that battered the fortress. 

That was always clear to her. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but she knew it was true. She loved him. 

How could she not?

Astarion fought for her every step of the way, never giving up, never giving in.

Elves can live a thousand lives and possibly never find that kind of devotion. But, she was human who would only be granted one life. And he had found her. 

Thunder rattled the fortress, shaking her very bones.

He shouldn’t have been able to hear her confession, but he did. 

Astarion clutched the back of her neck and hauled her to him, his lips meeting hers in a fiery, greedy kiss, and she moaned into it. 

Lyra’s hands clung to his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pulled her further into the fortress, but rain still pelted on them from above. 

She tasted leftover blood in her mouth, the sweetness of his breath, and the salty spray of the sea. 

Astarion’s grip tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers in a desperate, fervent exploration. The storm raged on, the wind howling like a wild beast around them, but in this stolen moment, it felt as though time had stopped.

His hands roamed over her back, feeling the shivering warmth of her skin through the fabric of her cloak. Every touch was a reminder of how much he had missed her, of how fiercely he had fought to find her again. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed tightly together, as if he could shield her from the storm with nothing but his embrace.

Lyra’s breath came in ragged gasps as she clung to him, her heart racing with a mix of fear and overwhelming desire. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the unspoken fear of losing her again. The intensity of their kiss spoke volumes—of pain, of longing, of an undying love that had weathered countless storms.

And, it had. Hadn’t it?

They had battled monsters, vampires, political wars, gods, and everything in between.

There seemed to be nothing they couldn’t conquer. 

So, why did she still feel as if she wasn’t worth the trouble?

Astarion growled as she canted her hips up to meet his. She needed him. 

Needed to be distracted from it all.

As the rain pelted down around them, the fortress seemed to tremble with the force of their emotions. Astarion's hands roamed to her face, cupping it tenderly as he pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. His gaze was fierce, yet filled with a depth of emotion that made her heart ache.

"Do you think," he breathed, his voice low and intense, "that I would ever let you go again? Not after everything we've been through."

Lyra's eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head, unable to find the words. The storm outside roared louder as if agreeing with him.

He brushed a wet strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle despite the moment's urgency. "You are my everything, Lyra. And I will fight for you, protect you, and love you until the realms fall apart, and even then, in the afterlife. I will search for you in every life, find you, and intertwine with you in every breath. Don't you dare forget that."

His lips found hers again, and she didn't complain. As the kiss continued, it became more passionate, more desperate. Astarion's hand moved from her face to her back, tracing the curve of her spine, sending waves of pleasure through her. Lyra responded in kind, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

He moved back to speak again, and she dug her nails into his neck to bring him back to her. "No," she pleaded. "Don't speak."

She couldn't bear to hear him beg her anymore, and she didn't care. She needed this now. 

It had been so long since he had touched her.

Astarion tightened his grip on her, his eyes burning with intensity as he searched her face for any sign of doubt. "You're hurt," he whispered.

"I'm always hurt."

Lyra grabbed him tighter, trying to move against him to get the needed friction. Her core was still warm from her dream earlier, and she desperately needed him. 

Seeing only raw desire and longing in her eyes, he lifted her more, cursing at himself and fumbling with his belt buckle. She ripped his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly, causing buttons to fly across the stone room. 

Astarion moved them to a corner with more cover from the rain. They crashed against a wooden cabinet, and it broke underneath their movements. 

Lyra moaned at the pain, at the pleasure that radiated from between her legs. 

Astarion kicked it out of their way, and her back hit the stone again. Then, he seemed to come to his senses. He paused momentarily. "Lyra–" he began to object, but she shook her head. 

"I need you," she cried against his lips. 

His soaked shirt fell to the floor. Lyra dug her nails into his perfect, sculpted skin. He was so beautiful that she could cry. 

Astarion tugged off her loose trousers, which she had stolen from Bhaal's follower, and pulled her underwear to the side.  

Lyra slipped slightly in his arms as he freed his throbbing erection. Then, he lifted her higher, hooking her legs around the crooks of his elbows so she couldn't drop her legs. 

Just like their first shower together all those weeks ago. 

He tried to reach his hand around to massage her clit.

"No," she moaned. "Just take me. Quickly. Don't hold back."

She could take it. She could take anything at this point. And she knew she was wet and ready for him.

Astarion kissed her harshly as she felt him at her entrance. She cried out in anticipation, her body trembling with need.

"Please," she begged, her voice hoarse with lust." Please don't hold back."

He slid into her slowly, his eyes locking onto hers as he filled her, inch by inch. She arched her back, her nails digging into his skin as she felt him stretch her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice shaking with desire. "I need you."

He sank further in, the stretch blinding and exquisite, as she welcomed him back inside her.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, one hand braced on the stone wall, the other around her waist as he took her, her legs still hooked at his elbows. Her nails raked across his back, her moans lost in the roar of the storm.

It still wasn't enough. 

"Don't hold back," she pleaded. "Don't go easy on me. You can't break me."

She needed to hurt, to feel, to be taken to her limit and beyond, to have every ounce of emotion that bled between them collide in this moment. She needed him to remind her that she was alive, and so was their love.

He growled low in his throat, his eyes burning with desire as he thrust into her with savage intensity. She tried to meet his movements but he overpowered her, pounding her into the stone wall, turning her moans into sharp cries of pleasure.

The rain beat down on them, merging with the sounds of their passion. Together, they were a force of nature, as powerful as the storm that raged outside the fortress walls.

Her breaths came in short, jagged gasps as she let herself be consumed by the fire that burned between them.

Astarion groaned low in her ear, his thrusts growing more erratic. Each impact sent shockwaves through her body like a thousand lightning bolts coursing through her veins. She knew she shouldn't be surprised by the intensity of their lovemaking, but she couldn't deny the raw, visceral pleasure that surged through her with every stroke.

Every thrust against her caused his lower stomach to brush against her clit, giving her delicious friction. She came twice from his deliberate pounding until tears were streaming down her face. 

It was beautiful – the feeling.

Yet, this was more than just physical desire. It was the culmination of everything they'd been through, the sum of their pain, joy, love, and fears. In this moment, she could feel their connection, a bond forged by fire and ice, blood and sacrifice .

Astarion's breaths grew ragged, his grip tightening on her waist. His movements became more frantic, as if he, too, was struggling to contain himself.

Gods, she wanted to die with him buried inside her.

His mouth pressed against hers, and it was animalistic the way he licked into her mouth, the way he sucked on her tongue and bit down on her lip. Lyra never wanted it to end. 

She wanted it to be the best way to say goodbye. 

Because loving him meant doing the right thing. And the right thing was not to raise that child with him. It was to let them both go.

Astarion groaned in her ear as he held her up, breathing in her exhales and moving against her with such feral intensity. 

And then, it happened. With a groan that seemed to echo the storm outside, Astarion slammed into her, his hips stuttering as he gave her a few short, slow thrusts. She felt his release, hot and intense as if the very fire of their love had been unleashed within her.

Lyra's body shook, screaming his name as her own climax washed over her like a tidal wave. Her muscles clenched around him, drawing out his release until she felt his knees buckle, but he still held her up. 

Like he always did.  "

[thedorkurge]

hey!! i absolutely adore your durgetash works, especially 'heresy'! i cannot wait for new chapters to drop <3 if you're taking prompts though.... can i get some gortash and the slayer form? particularly if we get feral slayer who still gives gortash special treatment (my guilty pleasure lol) either way thank you for sharing your works, they're absolutely lovely

Thank you so much! I hope I did the prompt justice<3 (And I'm working on Heresy, promise)

You can read it under the cut or on ao3

Morbid Fascination (2,5k)

There were many ways Enver liked to spend a nice summer evening. This wasn’t one of them. 

It was supposed to be a simple job, intercepting a shipment of crystals for his Motivators, stealing them from under the nose of an arrogant baldurian businessman who was unlikely to have decent security. 

He had miscalculated.

Now they were pinned down on the upper floor of a large warehouse, ducking behind crates with their stolen goods as guards sent arrows and spells their way.

And his bhaalist accomplice was frustratingly calm. 

“A little more urgency would be appreciated.” Enver’s tone was sharper than normal, the stress of the situation getting to him. Durge, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm, flipping a dagger in his hands as he waited for their opponents to come closer. His keen eyes never left the guards, yet he didn’t seem to be in a rush.

“I’ve got it covered.”

“Really? Because I wouldn’t consider the situation covered in any sense of the word.” He ducked slightly as some manner of fire spell burned through the top of his improvised barricade. Durge hadn’t even bothered to counterspell it.

“Even after all this time, you still doubt me.” It would have sounded like an accusation, if not for the amused grin on Durge’s face.

The dragonborn peeked around the corner, finally tucking his dagger into his belt, apparently deciding that their foes were close enough.

Enver knew his companion was slightly mad, but seeing the sorcerer walk directly into the line of fire still startled him. “What the hells are you doing?” 

He cursed slightly under his breath as Durge ignored him, preparing to waste more expensive healing potions on the reckless bhaalist.

The bhaalist in question was standing in the center of the room, untouched by the barrage as a shielding spell shone around him. 

And yet, he doubled over as if in pain. 

Enver watched with morbid curiosity as Durge’s claws sank into the skin on his face and shoulder, splitting it to release what lurked beneath. Sharp spines pierced through skin, a painful sign of what was to follow.

In a flurry of blood and teeth, massive limbs unfolded from the dragonborn’s body, each adorned with a plethora of razor sharp spikes. Four jaws opened in a bone-chilling scream towards the sky, as if the beast was celebrating its momentary freedom. Or perhaps just the bloodbath it was about to create.

The Slayer. 

A creature he had read about, but never seen in the flesh. He had thought it a lost magic, destroyed by Bhaal’s fall.

He never suspected that Durge possessed that particular ability.

Enver was granted a reprieve from the assault as the terrified guards aimed their spells and weapons at the most prominent threat, allowing the banite to peek his head out enough to witness the carnage.

The Slayer moved with a speed that seemed almost unnatural for its size. Not that any part of it seemed natural- It was born from Bhaal’s darkest desires, after all. Enver barely had time to register anything but a flurry of claws and flesh, coupled with the last pathetic attempts at resistance from the guards. The creature showed no mercy, reducing the guards to piles of viscera in mere moments. Its limbs dug and tore through bodies with terrifying ease. 

And then, as suddenly as it started, the screaming stopped. 

The creature was covered in burns and shallow cuts by the time the dust settled, but it didn’t even seem to notice. Enver strongly doubted that there would be even a scratch on Durge when he transformed back- transmutations were handy like that. 

Silence permeated the room-turned-battlefield, only broken by the faint sound of the Slayer’s clicking and chittering. It showed no sign of turning back into the Dark Urge’s dragonborn form as it scanned the room for prey. 

And then Enver moved. 

The debris shifted slightly under his boot, making the Slayer’s attention shift to him in an instant.

He was the only living being trapped in a room with murder itself.

Enver wasn’t easily scared, but he felt a cold wave of fear climb up his spine as the Slayer moved closer.

To his surprise, the creature didn’t leap at him as it had done during its massacre. It approached slowly, like a predator sizing him up. Its massive arms weren’t brandished threateningly, instead padding on the ground as it crept closer, as if it was bringing itself closer to his height.

It was all points and sharp edges, none of it meant for anything but murder. And yet, it approached him gently. He couldn’t know for sure if it was genuine, or simply an attempt to get close enough to skewer him. It hardly mattered, if this thing wanted to kill him there was little he could do to stop it.

If not for the grounding weight of his coat, he was quite certain that his heart would be beating out of his chest.

His hand curled around the flash grenade in his pocket, but he couldn’t bring himself to use it. He had the distinct feeling that antagonizing the beast would destroy any chance he had of survival.

He did, however, question his own decision making as the Slayer finally got to him. It looked even bigger up close, towering over him. He hadn’t even noticed that he was moving until his back hit the wall. 

When a large hand came up to hold him in place, it almost knocked the wind out of his chest. It was big enough to almost span the width of his torso, and he was held firmly in place by a claw on either side of his neck. The tail was raised behind it, a dagger-like tip aimed at his head.

He wanted to speak, to try to bargain with the monster, but no words came out. 

His hands instinctively tried to pry the claws from his throat, but the Slayer merely lifted a second set of arms to pin his hands to the wall. The hold itself was surprisingly gentle, even as the spiked skin dug into his wrists. And when the horned head finally lowered, it seemed mindful to keep the tusk-like protrusions from piercing skin. He could feel its breath in his hair, irregular puffs that reeked of decay.

It was smelling him. 

Enver forced himself to relax, despite every bone in his body telling him to run. Adrenaline coursed through him, making his limbs restless. 

The fourth hand gripped his hip tightly, as if to stop him from moving. The Slayer’s movements were clearly carefully measured, subject to the iron grip that Durge had on his urges. Enver had to trust that the Slayer didn’t want him dead. He had to trust that Durge could control himself, even in this form. Moving would just make it harder for the bhaalspawn to keep his lethal limbs away from Enver’s fragile mortal form. 

It had never been clearer just how much Durge was able to push his father’s control to get what he wanted.

The thought sent a red hot shiver down his back. He could feel his body reacting, not with fear, but with arousal. Unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. Enver had always known his preferences were fucked up. His time in the House of Hope had taught him that sex was all about pain and power, but even he had to admit this was a new low. 

The Slayer seemed to notice the change, a hollow screech echoing from its chest in a strange imitation of laughter.

When it finally let go, it carefully moved one limb at a time, seemingly all too aware that the slightest movement could spell death for the human. It seemed almost experimental, as if Durge was trying out something brand new. Enver had a suspicion that he didn’t typically hold the reins when the Slayer took over.

The smart thing would be to stay put, to wait for Durge to return to his regular form. But unfortunately, the behemoth presented a far too intriguing opportunity. 

Standing before Bhaal’s Slayer, one of the most feared monsters in baldurian history, and knowing it wouldn’t kill you? That was power. And Enver wasn’t ready to let go of that power just yet. 

As he moved closer, the creature’s head tilted slightly, as though it was confused by his lack of fear. It backed away further, shaking its head to warn him to stay back. 

But it was Enver’s turn to be in control.

“Hold still.”

The Slayer growled, but obeyed. A smug smile threatened to split Enver’s face in half.

His hand lightly traced the contours of the large clawed hand closest to him, examining it in great detail. The Slayer was pure bone and muscle, sinewy tissue with no protective layers. 

Deep set eyes followed his every move as his fingers moved to the spikes, and eventually the horns that adorned its head.

The efficiency of its form was fascinating. His mind was brimming with new ideas for his Steel Watch based on this alone.

The rapidly moving tail behind it reminded him that he was on very thin ice, even as the rest of the Slayer’s body was frozen. He wanted to keep pushing. He didn’t usually consider himself a reckless man, but this was intoxicating. 

When they had first initiated their alliance, Enver had thought the bhaalist little more than a knife-wielding maniac. And yet, he had managed to surprise him again and again with his brains, his skill and his power. Today was no exception.

“You are magnificent.”

Even the creature’s tail stilled at that, as if it was confused. He wasn’t sure how much Durge understood while in this form, but he was fairly certain that the Slayer had never been met with anything but fear. It sneered slightly, as if rejecting the positive sentiment. 

But then he grew too bold. His hand moved too fast, too close to the Slayer’s throat, and within seconds he was pinned to the floor. His ears rang and he tasted blood in his mouth from where the impact had made him bite his own tongue. His hands clawed at the foot placed on his chest, desperate to free his lungs from the crushing pressure. 

Strings of bloody saliva fell onto him as the Slayer’s jaws opened above him, ready to bite down. 

His arms flew up to shield his face, bracing for the pain.

And then the pressure suddenly let up, the Slayer’s form swept to the side as if yanked by a leash. 

Beside him, panting on the floor, was a blood-soaked dragonborn.

The Slayer’s teeth had left a faint scratch on Enver’s arm. 

It had been inches away from biting his head off. 

What a thrill.

A sharp laugh escaped Enver as his bruised head fell back to the floor once more, soon followed by a full blown belly laugh. Durge looked decidedly less amused. 

“That was stupid.” His voice was still raw. He wiped the remaining viscera off with sharp movements, clearly pissed off.

“Oh, but so very interesting, my dear.” He grimaced slightly as he sat up, the pain in his head blooming through his skull at the movement. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, it hit him like a rampaging rothé. He didn’t even notice Durge approaching until a scaled hand seized his jaw and turned his head painfully to allow the bhaalist to inspect the wound. 

“You got lucky.”

Enver was left to stumble to his feet on his own, only to be met with a potion bottle to the chest. He barely managed to catch it.

It was one of the expensive ones too, pulled from Enver’s own pack. Usually he would have voiced his displeasure more openly, but he had pushed the bhaalspawn far enough for now. So instead he downed the healing potion, feeling the skin on the back of his head knitting itself back together. 

Durge could deny it all he wanted, but Enver had felt his hesitation, the way the Slayer had stilled under his touch. Luck had very little to do with it. Durge had kept murder itself from ripping out Enver’s throat.

Durge’s realization that he didn’t actually want Gortash dead was still fairly new, so for Enver to have this kind of influence over even his most feral form, with something as simple as a kind touch…It had to be unsettling. 

Not to mention, Enver had compromised Durge’s carefully crafted control, pushing beyond the already stretched boundaries. Durge had almost killed him, and not on purpose. And then he had stopped himself. 

Stopped the purest embodiment of his father’s will.

He didn’t envy the bhaalspawn the war that was undoubtedly happening in his head. It was probably best that Enver broke the ice sooner rather than later, lest he wanted his partner to be distracted by religious guilt for the rest of the night.

“That was quite a show. I had no idea you had it in you.”

His casual tone had the desired effect, as the bhaalspawn gave him a withering look. 

“I almost killed you.” There was no guilt in his voice, just a statement of fact.

“But you didn’t.”

Durge sneered slightly at his lack of fear. The Slayer was meant to be the ultimate weapon, murder incarnate. For the banite to treat it like any old polymorph was a blow to the bhaalspawn’s ego. Still, Enver preferred an annoyed bhaalspawn over a conflicted bhaalspawn. 

“Perhaps I should have.”

Enver’s movements grew bolder, moving closer to the bhaalist. “My dear, we both know you’ll want that privilege all to yourself. I have the utmost faith that you won’t allow anyone else to steal your kill, not even your god-given form.” The appeal to the bhaalist’s personal desires was blatant, hardly a subtle attempt at manipulation, but it was effective. His hands traced a path down Durge’s arm, a mirror of how he had examined the Slayer, until he held Durge’s hand in his own. “You’ll want these hands to kill me. You’ll want to make it last.” As he lifted their joint hands closer to his own throat, he felt Durge’s fingers twitch slightly. “Until it’s perfect, you won’t kill me.” 

He said it with such certainty, leaving no room for nuance. He needed Durge to believe it. To believe that the Slayer could be trusted around Gortash. He had sensed a hint of hesitation in the beast, something Enver could grab onto and turn to his advantage. A challenge he was all too willing to take. The thought of Bhaal’s Slayer obeying him as easily as the bhaalspawn himself did… It was intoxicating. 

How could he resist?

[repent-reflection]

Love you even if crazy

okay fine i don't care anymore

that i have in my mind a war

i just want to listen to lizzy grant

and get new bows and plants

tell me you love me, boy, do it

it's just like i thought it, i just knew it

i want to twirl around in a pretty dress

forget the worries, let go of stress

im not a jealous girl or a stalker

its just the way i love, a bit bolder

imagining being your girl is so sweet

come on you know you like girls younger

with that spark and mind that still wonder

lemme be your secret, your wild desire

come on admit it don't pretend

im sure we will make the rules bend

come on you know you like girls younger

i'll be the one to make your heartbeat faster

you say you wanna start a company with me

that you see a long bright future with me

you know it feels so good

when you talk to me like this, as you should

together we'll conquer, we'll weave them tight

we'll build our world, make it right

carry me to your bed, hold me tight

tell me about the things

you and i will never do, shield me from harm

do you really consider me cute

or more than just a tease, huh?

you just say there is still mystery to unfold

am i just crazy or there are stories untold

boy, maybe you just want my pepsi cola

or you just like in my hair bows tied?

anyways please treat me right

just like a man should do

"i cant stop myself

'cause i like them crazy

i know it's wrong

but nobody can save me"

no, i won't fix you, baby

[pancake-stack]

Stuck with you: Chapter 3 WIP

Summary: When Vox gets trapped inside a virtual reality that grants his every desire, Alastor is sent in after him. Forced to play the role of devoted partner, Alastor must figure out how to get them both out of the program while learning how deep Vox's obsession for him goes and how he can use it to his advantage.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie looked different.

Not completely, of course, she was still very much recognisable. But as he observed her closely, he picked up on the inconsistencies. The heavy bags under her eyes, her messy plait- not to mention her clothes, more rumpled than Vagatha would have ever have allowed her to wear outside the hotel.

It seems that Vox viewed the dear princess as an unprofessional and frazzled joke.

"Sir?"

Pulled out of his thoughts, he realised that he had been staring for slightly too long without responding to her and he was quick to rectify.

"Why, terribly sorry there, I was lost in my thoughts for a moment! How very rude of me. Would you care to repeat yourself, dear?"

Brightening at his non-dismissal, to which she was no doubt used to, she transferred the posters into the crook of her right elbow and offered her free hand for a handshake.

"Oh, it's no problem at all, I'm always getting lost in my own head." She chuckled and Alastor took her hand, still thoroughly charmed at her cheerful naivety.

"Um, let me try this again: I'm Charlie Morningstar and I run a rehabilitation hotel in the northern part of the city. We help sinners better themselves so they can ascend to heaven, which will stop our overpopulation problem!"

Waiting patiently for her to finish reciting the opening that Vaggie had probably helped her rehearse to reduce her rambling nature, Alastor gently but firmly removed his hand from her own.

Now, how to respond here? Vox had clearly removed his presence from the Hotel, so responding familiarly to her would only raise Vox's suspicions. On the other hand, if she was here then she had to have been in the public eye, if only to add to her humiliation, so he would know who she was. Taking a chance, he chuckled and leaned forward slightly into her personal space.

"Why no need to introduce yourself, everyone here knows who you are!"

He had barely finished his sentence before the television shop next to him, which he hadn't taken much notice of, coincidently changed their channels to showcase Charlie's disastrously hilarious interview with Katie Killjoy on every screen.

Well maybe not so coincidently, Alastor thought, taking note of a CCTV camera trained on him.

Charlie gave a nervous chuckle as her past self tackled Killjoy harshly to the floor and looked down at her posters in shame. Still, he had to give her credit when she raised her head after a few seconds and resolutely ignored the screens.

"So, um, would you like to try our redemption program yourself?"

Still hilarious to hear, even after all this time!

Unfortunately, he couldn't even get in a disguised jab at her proposition before Vaggie appeared and yanked her girlfriend behind her to shield her from Alastor's gaze.

Pointing her spear at his chest in a way that was very reminiscent of their first meeting, she spoke to Charlie without taking her eye off him.

"Charlie, what are you thinking? You can't just approach the Radio Demon of all people!" She hissed, eye betraying her frantic feelings that he was here at all.

Now that was a sentiment he liked to hear.

"Do you want Vox to hunt us down for fucking with his partner?"

Never mind.

His ears flickered down in response to his agitation at the implication he was only intimidating because he was associated with Vox. How dare she. To suggest that his reign of terror could be outclassed and overshadowed by new-fangled technology?

He was half-tempted to find a busy street and start his radio show early to release some of this building anger. He might have done so if he had been back in reality and not in Vox's blasted fantasy world.

Seeing Vaggie eye him wearily and tightening her grip on her spear, Alastor recognised he was getting angry. Such a reaction would only alert Vox that their little liasion was not what it seemed, which would make all of this shit had been a waste of time. Taking time to slow his breathing to calm himself down, he forced himself to raise his ears and soften his posture to regain his earlier relaxed appearance. And if his smile bared his teeth more than usual, that was no one's business but his own.

Dematerialising into the shadows and rematerialising behind the two women, he slung his arms around their shoulders, revelling in their panicked flinches and yelps.

"Now, now dearies, let's not cause a scene in such a quaint area." he exclaimed, nodding at the neon nightmare with as little distate as possible, "Come, let us continue our civil conversation from earlier. I'd love to hear what you've heard about me. Perhaps over a nice dessert?"

He wouldn't let the two leave, not when it was so suspicious that they of all people had approached him in the first place. There was a chance he could get information from them, no matter how irritated he was with their mannerisms.

Vaggie gave a low growl but Charlie's eyes sparkled at his hospitality. "Oh yes, that's a great idea! C'mon Vaggie, you love sweets."

Faced with the eager grins of both her girlfriend and the Radio demon, Vaggie reluctantly relaxed her grip on the spear and gave a reluctant nod. She cast a concerned look in the direction of V Tower before following them into the bakery with a deep sigh.

The inside was still far too modern for Alastor's tastes, but it wasn't as outrageous as the outside had been, so he made do. However, he did have to wonder if a bakery even needed this many cameras. At least the wait time was none nonexistent- the staff practically fell over themselves to sit the group down.

He told the girls to order anything they wanted, ignoring Vaggie's mumbling about how it was free for him anyway, and placed his own order for the fruit tart he saw in the window and a coffee with cream. Charlie and Vaggie soon followed suit and ordered a chocolate and strawberry cake with matching glasses of juice.

Once their food arrived, he purposefully ignored the two's idol chatter to enjoy his first bite of the delightful dessert. The sweetness of the custard mixed well with the juiciness of the fruit and he let loose a small hum of appreciativeness, his shadow twirling contently around his chair.

His ears twitched as they caught the sound of the cameras whirling as they zoomed in on his figure. He winked at the camera closest to him and took great joy in watching it spark slightly.

Predictable as always, he thought, almost fond.

Reluctantly turning back to the girls, he took another bite of his food before asking, "So, what else have you heard about me?" Seeing their reluctance, he pointed his fork at them playfully, "Come now, I do so love to hear theories from others."

Naturally, Charlie was the one to talk first, "Well, I don't actually know that much about your past. But! I do know that you have power over the Radio and you're part of the AVs."

Well, that's not very helpful, he knows all of that. Though Vox changing the name of the group to the original name he had pitched to him seven years ago, that was certainly new.

"How do you not know their past, hun? It's common knowledge." Vaggie asked incredulously, turning in her seat slightly to properly look at her partner. "You've been around longer than I have."

"Yeah, I know but Dad never let me out of the castle much growing up. Plus other demons are a bit... um, shy around me I guess, so I don't get to hear much gossip." Charlie admitted, playing with the ends of her hair as she often did when discussing subjects that were unpleasant to her. Not willing to admit that her own subjects thought of her as a fool to be avoided and mocked.

It seems Vaggie picked up on that piece of information regardless, as she bit her tongue to repress thoughts of those who had interacted with Charlie to that degree.

Taking a soothing breath, she patted Charlie on her back and gave her a soft smile once she met her eyes, "Don't worry, Hun. I'll always be here to help you out. I've picked up a lot of information since falling down here."

Sensing an opening, Alastor wasted no time butting into the touching scene that was blooming. "That may be true, but, you still have not said what you know about my story. Surely you aren't all prattle?"

Charlie quickly answered before Vaggie could do something impulsive with her irritation; such as take her half-eaten cake and aim it at his head.

"Vaggie knows all sorts of things, i'm sure she'd be happy to tell you!" Vaggie settled back in her seat at the words but still gave him a vicious glare as Charlie continued, "Besides, it'd do me good to hear about Hell's history."

Though still looking far from pleased at the request, Vaggie still caved at her girlfriend's appeal, as Alastor knew she would. He couldn't recall a single time that she didn't go along with her schemes.

Nonetheless, he leaned back in his chair as Vaggie reluctantly began her tale, encouraged by Charlie's own smile.

"It started seven years ago. Before they were together, the tales of the rivalry between the Media demons for control of Hell were legendary. Their brawls would level cities, destroy businesses and massacre anyone in the vicinity."

She paused for breath and dramatic effect before continuing, "That was until one day, when Vox asked Alastor to become his partner. He refused, and the ensuing battle levelled the entire South Ring's residential district."

Well, she sure knew how to paint a picture- then again, he had always found her to be overly dramatic when recounting hell's history. The fight in the south ring was true, though, they hadn't fought to that extent before that.

He did have to wonder why this version of himself didn't simply accept Vox's invitation in this reality. After all, it was clear his cooperation was what Vox truly wanted. It must have badly wounded his pride for Alastor to have been able to so easily reject him.

He didn't have time to ponder this query further as Vaggie continued her tale, "Of course, Alastor was defeated." At that statement, her eyes took on a sadistic glee.

Bitch.

"He was then dragged off by Vox and wasn't seen again until two months later at a press coverage, where their new alliance as partners was announced to Hell."

Oh my, only two months for Vox to get bored of besetting him? With all that man's boasting, he would have expected to have been tortured for half a year at the very least.

Then again, being forced to be part of an ever-growing, ever-changing brand that keeps up with modern times is frankly worse than torture to him.

[fanworldbuildingfun]

When you add tags like “OR both Ezio and Altaїr being brought back by Desmond (accidentally) during Solar FlareExcept something went... Wrong” in that post I immediately think “yandere time? Yandere time???” (I might have been reading yandere isekai manwhas lately) What if when Desmond activated the device, it needed a way to disperse all the power it received from the Solar Flare, otherwise it would burn Desmond up. (1/?)

So instead, it used the power to make Desmond’s foremost thought a reality. However, Desmond wasn’t thinking of anything ‘nice’. He was in a lot of pain and he just… He remembered the pain and anger of knowing that everything that he has done, his entire life… He had been dancing to the tune of someone else. The Assassins…The Templars… Even those years he spent on the run, being a simple bartender… He had simply been dancing the tune that the Isus had been playing the entire time. (2/?) He wanted someone… anyone… He just wanted to be someone’s priority, for once. For once, he wanted someone who would be by his side, to accept him for who he is and to… Just… make everything stop. And that’s what the device latched into. The cries of a man in pain, wishing for freedom he believed he never had in the first place. Although, it was too abstract so the device made a few tweaks of its own to make it ‘feasible’. (3 of 4) It created two representatives of Desmond’s wish, formed from the two men Desmond had achieved a Synch Nexus with. They were copies with a similar personality to the originals, with the memories that Desmond had thanks to the Bleeding Effect.But they were created with a ‘condition’. They were created to do whatever was necessary to protect Desmond and to grant his every desire and wish.… In whatever way they can. (4/4)

You made me get out my eerie music playlist for writing

See when the Temple went in for the one option it had to disperse the energy, it went at it hard. Creating a body and uploading the memories that Desmond has personally observed was not enough. It would get rid of part of the buildup, true, but not nearly enough to guarantee it’s Admin user (…yeah let’s pretend Isu also used something like that) will survive

Nor could it guarantee the memories would be enough to make the simulacrums function independently

So instead – with the shield the Temple was generating, it looked for everything. It scoured all that could be pulled from the genetic memories Desmond carried. It scoured everything that was left behind from Juno. It scoured all the remnant information that was available to any of the pieces of Eden. And then it used those to create the “interface” for the “protectors”

Altaїr’s replica wasn’t just Altaїr left behind in his descendant’s genome. He was also the memory of every contemporary Templar that handed a piece of Eden. He was the memory of every person who still had traceable lineage that interacted with him. He was every shred of Minerva’s calculation that referred to him

It was the same for Ezio. The only difference being – Ezio had much more “source” material to go with, given that (and let’s go with fanon here) he had many more direct descendants

A lot of people whose recollections went into recreating them didn’t have the same rose-ish tinted glasses Desmond did. They were just this side of sharper, just this side of terrified

Collecting all that data… Was enough to burn off what the Temple was not going to use to reconstruct the bodies

Desmond still suffered through it. Some of him still burned – but not in the way heat charred flesh and destroyed nerves. It was the burn of circuitry, much like that of Isu, etching itself into his body. After all, the Temple had to go by the “parameters” that were “set by the Admin”

When both Altaїкand Ezio came to – Desmond was the brightest, most golden thing either of them had ever seen

This alone was enough to snap them into gathering him, and the Apple, first – there was no time to question each other, not when they had to *act* first

Random thoughts:

They do not leave the Temple. Well, not at once – and Altaїr, being the most familiar and thus most “attached” to Isu tech – makes good use of being able to access the system

Both, at some point before Desmond wakes up, find out they are not the originals and there is a bout of freaking out. Surprisingly, it’s Ezio who deals with it first – for the sheer force of habit. It wasn’t the first time he was yanked around by the “gods”

Sharing body heat is going to be a thing. We ARE talking about meters upon meters of stone. It doesn’t keep heat well

Ezio is also the one who spend more time holding vigil over Desmond. At least since the moment Altaїr managed to divine Desmond’s name from the system

Abstergo still tried to get inside the Temple. They don’t have a good time out of it – not against two Master Assassins who are much more familiar with direct combat. That one of them is semi-familiar with firearms and the other has control over the building they are in becomes stuff of nightmares

At some point, Abstergo deems recovering anything from Temple a lost cause

At least one instance of Desmond thinking he is dead when he wakes up, and speaking accordingly. Ezio freaks out. Which causes Desmond to freak out. Altaїr is the one who ends up having to talk them into calming down

[the-shy-artisan]

Kratos Playlist

As promised, here is my playlist for our beloved Spartan ♥. You'll have to trust me on a few of these, I realize the genres are all over the place LOL. I've included the lyrics that gave me The Vibes.

Actual list starts under the read more, this post is gonna be long.

Falling Down - Duran Duran

Once was a man who consumed his place and time He thought nothing could touch him But here and now it's a different storyline Like the straw he is clutching

Crystal Ball - Styx

I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me Or am I even in it's mind at all?

Ashes - The Longest Johns (this one fits Norse!Kratos best imho)

Do you feel heavy? Your eyes drop with grief Your spirit is wild and your suffering is brief So never you buckle and bend to the masses I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

The Eyes of Tomorrow - Broken Iris

So, why do you take this, conquer and dismay this Peaceful sanity of mine? Your attempting to bore me, shatter and destroy me Is worthless and fuels my gain Maybe we're all insane

Told Ya - Mystery Skulls

Thought I told ya Stop fuckin' with me

Flawed Design (Remix) - Stabilo

And I will turn off And I will shut down Burying the voices of my conscience hitting ground And I will turn off And I will shut down The chemicals are restless in my head

Ordinary World - Red

But I won't cry for yesterday There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find And as I try to make my way To the ordinary world I will learn to survive

Godhunter - Aviators

When you're sinful to the bone (Unholy) And you've claimed yourself a throne (Like me) Wield power of your own (Making) Godhunter's gonna hunt you down If you're something more than flesh (Ascended) And you've taken on the rest (To end it) Then she'll find you in a dream (Tormented) Godhunter's gonna hunt you down

Way of the Strong - Aviators

Walk in the deepest of footprints, Step into the fog Breaking the silence, A threatening song On the trail of the ancients, The demons awake At the end of all evil, The battleground shakes To the sound of the metal, The splinters of bone In a war with the summoned, The soldiers of stone As the vessel of guardians, I follow along With the words of the wise In the way of the strong

Song of the Abyss - Aviators

I will shield you from the darkness, When the walls around us quake I will hold back all the monsters, Until my bones begin to break When I've lost I'll have to leave you, And the tears, they'll fall like rain If I'm taken by the shadows, I will spare you from the pain

Into the Black - Aviators

When vengeance comes and I heed the call With every time I plunge the steel, I'm seeing you You once had used my desire to kill Granted me hope with a quiet thrill I watched as you changed the world around me, Cut in two

Night of the Hunter - Thirty Seconds to Mars * (also for Beastos)

One night of the hunter One day I will get revenge One night to remember One day it'll all just end

The Tiger Warrior - Mick Gordon (Instrumental)

Ruler of the Flame: Rise Version (Theme of Teostra) - Capcom Sound Team (Instrumental) * (also for Beastos)

Bonus Beastos Round!

Wounded - Takeshi Furukawa (Instrumental)

Victorious - Takeshi Furukawa (Instrumental)

Epilogue - Takeshi Furukawa (Instrumental)

Built to Kill - Oleksa Lozowchuk (Instrumental)

Flight of Dragons - Ramin Djawadi (Instrumental)

[camirazone]

Team Fever, and our Self-Indulgent Puyo Puyo Miraculous AU

More specifically (before anyone raises any pitchforks), an AU in name only. It’s just a “what if the miracle box from miraculous existed in the Puyo world” type thing. You don’t really need much knowledge of Miraculous because we basically changed a lot of the kwamis’ powers and designs anyways.

My pal Greeny ( @greenysoliatre​ ) has brought up most of the important details in her write up of the AU but a TL;DR is that Sig accidentally finds a peacock broach while looking for bugs and things very quickly get out of hand.

It’s up to our heroes Coccinella and Chat Noire (with an E, noire is feminine while noir is masculine) to put a stop to this craziness, and along the way learn some pretty deep secrets.

Just who are these heroes though? Find out under the “Keep Reading” cut here:

This is Coccinella, Lidelle’s hero identity. A bit of a random pick to give this ladybug miraculous to but trust me it makes sense. Her outfit technically isn’t really the right species but I didn’t want to use red and the bee miraculous isn’t in this AU so shhh. Her shy personality as Lidelle contrasts with the slightly more confident Coccinella, in which her form reveals her horns (although most people think it’s part of the costume anyways). In this form she feels like she’s more able to be herself and, once getting an All Clear, is able to activate her spell “Lucky Charm” and use an item to her advantage. 9 times out of 10 though she doesn’t know what to do with it so she just throws it at whoever the threat is.

Chat Noire (shoutouts to Greeny yet again for her take on the left) is her partner in “crime”, and is also insane enough to fight in heels because you just know Raffina is extra enough to do that. Her hair is designed to resemble the whiskers of a cat, though I also like Greeny’s take too with the hair looking like claws, maybe it’ll change to that once Raffina learns she doesn’t actually have to keep a secret identity (no one else seems to make any effort to, at least...). As Chat Noire Raffina feels like she actually has some kind of power for once, though it still relies on another object similar to her pouch. Upon getting an All Clear she will be able to use the spell “Cataclysm” which grants her the power to destroy an object. She usually ends up misusing this.

It’s just these two for a while, but eventually Amitie and Tarutaru do some sleuthing and end up becoming heroes themselves.

Tarutaru’s a big guy, but he does care a lot about protecting others, hence why he is given the turtle miraculous to become Carapace. I don’t have a lot to say about his design, other than that yeah it’s pretty much like a turtle. He was definitely a fun one to draw because it’s always fun to draw different body types and design cool superhero costumes. When getting an All Clear, he can activate the spell of “Shell-ter”, which is a shield that can protect others from garbage puyo.

And lastly, Oinktimism. Amitie couldn’t come up with anything clever for her name, but she’s fine with it. Much like with Carapace I don’t have much to say about her design, because it is literally just Pigella’s design but with a pig hat. I forgot to put the image of the untransformed Amitie but...come on, you still know it’s her anyways. She’s not exactly the best superhero out there but she tries her best and is always there to keep the team’s spirits high. Upon getting an All Clear, she can use the spell “Gift” which gives the target their deepest desires. Usually, since the opponents are either mindless sentimonsters or random civilians turned into champions (our version of akumas), the gift is pretty inconsequential, but it makes the opponent a little happier.

Together they form...

TEAM FEVER!

There are definitely more characters than just these four, but I wanted to get the hero team out of the way. This has been a fun project Greeny and I have been working on the past few months and it’s been a blast (in the actual story though...things aren’t as fun)

[hyperfixatinglove]

Hi roe, how about be mine, hand holding and sweets for zeus? 💕 happy valentines day :3

be mine — how would they react to you flirting with them, do they get flustered? flirt back?

I think Zeus would cough and look away when I try to flirt but it's because his mind has come to screeching halt and needs reboot to function properly. Zeus most likely doesn't think I would even like him, much less love him. Since I mostly imagine our relationship post-Prototype story, Zeus has just learned he's not and never was human. He doesn't have place to belong to, anyone to belong to. He's lost, wondering what use it is to exist if all you can do is inflict harm and violence and the only person he cares about isn't even his sister, not really. This whole dilemma makes it incredibly difficult for him to form friendships, never mind developing romantic one.

Then there's the fact Zeus privately refers to me as angel, since I didn't even try to run away from him, despite his clearly non-human traits being out in open. He has obsessive love for me. He does put me in some kind of pedestal, away from the rest of humanity & while Dana is also on the same level, since he immensely also cares for his sister - it's clearly different to him.

Which is why I think he reacts so subsided and awkward. Not because I'm some master at seduction, but because Zeus has problems at seeing himself perceived by someone as lovable and desirable.

Zeus flirts by edgy love songs and generally being edgy. He will turn any of my attempts to flirt around and make it edgy. I could say i'm his and he will make remark how his entire nonhuman being to every last little cell that can bring him back from brink of death is mine and mine alone.

hand holding — how are they with physical affection? who initiates it first?

Me. Zeus is the kind to go in shock and awkwardly stand there when he gets shown any form of physical affection. His worst one is hugs. I know he knows how to 'answer' a hug but it takes significant amount of time until he does. It's like he's shocked anyone would show any level of affection towards him, never mind something as big and grant as a hug.

He isn't as bad with tiny tells of affections, like brushing his arm or hand holding itself, but there's is short period where he tenses, glances at me under his hood and then relaxes.

He's much more confident when he initiates it, but he only brushes my cheek with his hand or kisses me as forms of affection initiated by himself. If I were to ask him, say, to put his arm around me while we're on sofa together, he'd just place it behind me, his hand dangling almost touching me but never does.

I think it might be because he's being of destruction ultimately, so it's bit hard for him to be tender and gentle. For all or most of his existence he's known death and violence and self-defense and all he has to go on with how to be little more than that, little more cautious and gentle is by the memories inside him. Most he draws from his creator, who was not at all kind nor affectionate man. And those he consumes sure had loved ones but I think Zeus would have very conflicting ideas and thoughts on putting those glimpses of affection to practice.

I'm not saying Zeus doesn't enjoy pda. He very much does. I can hold him in a hug for a long time and when I try to pull away, that is the moment Zeus wraps his arms around me, like silent cue I should stay. If I stop petting him he'll whine, which sounds half like mock like he's trying to disguise he really loves it and doesn't want me to stop and half genuine ''please don' stop''.

The biggest sign of him enjoying pda is how he unconsciously shapeshifts his arms. It can be merely shifting his hands into shields or rapidly cycle through claws all the way to hammers or anything in between.

sweets — what’s their favourite valentines-esque food? (think anything you’d get in that seasonal aisle at the grocery store!)

I'm not expert on any seasonal food ex Valentine, Halloween etc because those aren't nearly as big of deal as in say USA.

But I conjured the best headcanon about this for Zeus.

He loves milkshakes. Specifically the cheesy ''sharing milkshake with one straw for each individual''. Doesn't really matter what flavor, albeit he does prefer the more outlandish ones while I love classics like chocolate and caramel.

To him, it's competition. He's competitive, he loves good challenge, he hardly ever gets one - which is why I have already couple AUs so he actually can have battles against other ''freaks of nature'' such as zombies in other games like Volatiles from DL or Baker family BOWS from RE.

Naturally since he's the most powerful being in his universe - Heller & Prototype sequel be damned - he turns it somewhere else. I'm not competitive but Zeus has the cutest smug smirk when he wins - and he always does - I never say no.

So to Zeus the idea of romantic milkshake sharing with competition of who can drink faster fills not only his craving for winning but also makes me happy on the notion we're being cheesy couple in middle of NY. And while Zeus never says that outloud to anyone but me, seeing me happy makes him happy.

[therese-lokidottir]

The Avengers: Earth Mightiest Heroes series watch

Hail, Hydra! written by Kevin Burke and Chris Wyatt

The episode begins with the Avengers in the training room where Hawkeye is attempting a trick shot when an electromagnetic pulse hits the Avengers Mansion. Black Widow arrives at the mansion seeking help. She reveals that Nick Fury sent her to retrieve information about the Cosmic Cube, which can alter reality as per the possessor's desires, from HYDRA. But now she is unable to contact Fury the only one who knew she was undercover and only has the Avengers to turn to.

HYDRA and AIM are fighting over the Cube, in the New York streets. The Avengers work to stop both factions. During the confrontation, the Avengers found themselves embroiled in a three-way fight with the two warring factions. MODOK, accompanied by Iron Man, Wasp, and S.H.I.E.L.D., rushed to complete the Cosmic Cube, The team tried to stop Baron Strucker from reaching his weapon. MODOK's ship was shot down after completing the Cube, leading to a standoff between HYDRA and AIM. Hawkeye executed a version of the trick shot he had been attempting earlier in the episode, delivering Ant-Man to the scene.

S.H.I.E.L.D. arrives on the scene led by Maria Hill with the intent to force the Avengers to join S.H.I.E.L.D. while fighting two groups of supervillains. Iron Man leads the heroes to protect the Helicarrier when it's attacked by a HYDRA robot.

After a conflict between Captain America and Strucker for control of the Cube, Strucker is defeated and all are apprehended by S.H.I.E.L.D. Black Widow fleas as she is a wanted trader as Fury disappearance means no one can confirm she was a double agent, although she and Hawkeye are able to say their goodbyes and give a parting kiss. Director Hill takes her leave for now but says that she will make sure all Avengers are registered with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government.

Back at the mansion, Ant-Man asks Captain America if he has any wish that the Cube grant what would it be, to which he responds with "nothing." How things were able to be resolved with the team working together is more than enough for him. However, a flashback to the rocket crash that led to Cap's being frozen now shows that Bucky had survived.

This episode was filled with so many great character moments. Well, except for one character.

Some serious spy solidarity between Nat and Clint. Hawkeye completely stops being mad when it's revealed that Black Widow was working undercover, and he got screwed hard. For those only familiar with the MCU version, to let you know this version of Clint has no family, that concept actually comes from the ultimate line not the og 616 and this episode does confirm a romantic connection between him and Natasha. Which does make the concept of Clint being so quick to a bit more interesting.

Also this episode of how the MCU really did make Maria Hill so much more likable than she ever was in comics. Because here just like the comic here's Maria being needlessly antagonistic and creating conflict where there doesn't need to be one. Picking a fight with the Avengers while there are supervillains attacking each other in the middle of the city with giant robots is not the time to try to strong arm the superheroes in to working for you. Seriously, what is wrong with you? This whole conflict also seems to have been setting up for registration act. This show ended before anything really came of that, though I am interested considering it's Tony who has the biggest conflict with shield how "civil war" would have gone.

A great moment between Hulk and Captain America where Cap' tells Hulk that he knows he's a hero and that he believes in him. It's so sweet he's so Steve and it's so nice when the Hulk is appreciated.

Clint kind of a huge dork in this episode and I love him and of course Hank being is just so sincere self. Also watching this show I started tell the writers really do favor Wasp. It's not in a super obnoxious way or anything but with 8 team members certain episodes do push sometimes have to push characters to side a bit if the story isn't relevant to them and you can tell the writers made sure Janet always got a least some lines.

Not episode starts the Ultron arc

[too-many-blorbos]

Once again thinking about my "Adam is adopted" 2002 headcanon...

...

The war is over, or close to it. Keldor has vanished and without his guidance, his forces are falling apart. Eternia's armies are finally able to force them back and start rebuilding.

People are anxious over the disappearance of the Council of Elders. Randor is doing his best to keep order, but it's looking more and more like he'll have to take the title of king after all. He never wanted that responsibility, but after millenia of being led by the Council, Eternia can't handle the power vacuum. They need an authority figure to look to, if only because it gives the illusion of stability.

And then Randor comes home one night to a crying child. Marlena has been hard at work this whole time, organizing the numerous relief efforts and handling grievances. Today, she met with the caretakers of the numerous orphans left by war, making sure they get the supplies they need. Throughout her visit, one infant would not. Stop. Crying.

Apparently the poor thing was found alone in a wrecked house, his crib shielded by the bodies of his parents. With him were two stuffed toys--one embroidered with the name "Adam," the other with "Adora." There was no sign of his twin.

Little Adam has never been alone in his life, not even in the womb. He can't stand it. He's only at peace when someone is holding him; set him down for even a second and he panics, wailing and scrambling to find contact. The caretakers are doing their best, but it's hard. They've started letting him cry himself to exhaustion, hoping it will wean him off the need for constant contact.

That... does not sit right with Marlena. Traumatized children need more love, not less. But she can't expect the caretakers to drop everything for one child, not when they have so many others to care for.

And that's why Randor is now cradling an infant. Little Adam is content now that he's in someone's arms, staring at Randor with the most vivid lagoon-blue eyes the man has ever seen.

"I should have discussed it with you first," Marlena says, only half-sorry. "It can be temporary. Just until he grows up a bit."

They both know that's a lie. They've wanted children for so long, never stopped wanting them despite being told it was impossible. Fate has finally granted that wish, just not in the expected way. And their own desires aside... this boy has already lost so much. He deserves stability. He deserves a family. He deserves the unconditional love that his birth parents can no longer provide.

Randor isn't qualified to be a parent, just like he's not qualified to be a king. But... if he can learn to do the latter, surely he can learn the former as well.