#like if I wasn’t heaving and throwing up I was and still am coughing endlessly

[loxxxlay]

thanos/loki post tdw wip

alright you thirsty tumblr gremlins, you all seemed interested in my 3 years old loki-hands-over-asgard-to-thanos WIP* (which includes extremely graphic noncon), and so I AM GIVING It tO YOU. if i ever find the second chapter, i will post it too. for now, enjoy this scene that i’m not entirely dissatisfied with lmao.

In my google docs, past-me titled it PoS, which I’m 90% sure stands for “Piece of Shit” lmao... which is accurate considering the blatant use of gratuitous noncon lmao, so I am choosing to keep the title

@veliseraptor i want you to know that the only reason past-me kept writing this for so so so long was because of you and your encouragement <3

*note: will i write more of it? as of now, probably not. But it wasn’t godawful writing, even for being like 3 years old, so maybe one day if i’m ever feeling sick of frostmaster, i’ll consider it. 

tw/warnings: noncon, noncon noncon noncon noncon, also implied torture and murder esp post-battle sequence, forever a wip, has been on hiatus before even being posted

Now without further ado lol, I shamefully bring you,

PoS: Chapter 1

Explosions vibrate all the way down the rainbow bridge to the Bi-Frost.

That’s when Loki knows there is no going back.

Immediately he drops the illusion surrounding his true identity and faces the bright looming city of Asgard. Smoke rises in waves while fires scorch the lower cities full of innocent civilians. Warriors rise in their vehicles and turrets fire upon the enemy, but it’s too late. They’ve been caught unaware and drastically outnumbered.

Even the warriors who surrender are shot down from the sky and fall like bombs upon homes and other structures. The force of Chitauri shows no mercy to anyone fighting as far as Loki can see. There’s no choice but for Asgard to admit defeat before any more harm befalls the realm.

The Bi-Frost has protected Asgard for centuries, providing Asgard with a false sense of confidence. No one here stands a chance against an external invasion of this scale. Yes, safeguards and defenses remain, but it’s not enough. The Dark Elves themselves, an endangered race, presented enough of a threat the first time around, and Asgard has made little changes to their front line of defense, thanks to him.

All it took was one deceptive order for Heimdall to leave his post, one disablement of the emergency city shields, one beam of light from the Tesseract—and now all is in ruin. The outcome doesn’t please Loki much. Still, it is better than others, and he’s never prided himself as a hero.

Securing the Tesseract, Loki strolls down the bridge toward the palace.

The battle, it seems, is at an end.

[read more cut]

...

Light shines through the wrecked walls of the throne room. Trails of dust and smoke waft through the hall, and warriors cough as they are chained and led in lines towards the dungeons. In every corner, Chitauri stalk around to search tight corners and crevices for any signs of life. They’re not gentle. They herd civilians and frightened children out of the hall to unknown destinations. Cries and screams reverberate endlessly.

Loki breathes in unexpected guilt as he passes some of them. Enraged eyes target his. Some Asgardians chant curses, throw threats.

Little do they know that he, like them, had little choice in the matter. If only they could understand how lucky they have it, how he would sacrifice his very soul to trade places. The fools can become prized lapdog of the most fearsome being in the galaxy, and he can fade into a sea of faces—fall into the sweet embrace of death, unnoticed and forgotten.

Sadly, even death has been stolen from him.

Loki approaches the steps to the throne and finds Lady Sif and two of the Warriors Three chained to the side. The sight is reminiscent of Thor’s failed coronation—the way they stand as if waiting to greet him, and Loki indulges in the false feeling of worth. When he catches Sif boring holes into his face, it ruins the fantasy. The others stare as if he’s a stranger, as if they don’t recognize him, as if they never even knew him to begin with.

They deserve this, he thinks, but quickly shakes his head of the needlessly malicious thought.

No one deserves this.

His eyes travel to Thanos, leaning on the armrest of the throne at the very top of the steps. The throne is too small for him to sit properly, but he looks no less intimidating. Full battle armor adorns his stature, and the golden infinity gauntlet of Asgard rests on his hand. His height towers over all in the room.

Loki kneels.

“You have done well,” Thanos says, “this time.” All background noises in the room—the weeping, the cries—go silent at the weight of his voice, uncomfortably loud.

“I have the Tesseract, My Lord,” Loki says.

Immediately three Chitauri rob him of both the container holding the Tesseract and Gungnir to present the weapons for inspection. Thanos takes Gungnir in his hand and tilts it under the light. Gold glistens brightly, reminding Loki to stop staring. He bows his head and stares at the floor. Now is not the time to remind Thanos of the promises he made before Loki opened the portal—that can be done later.

Thanos drives Gungnir into the floor, the impact sending a groan through the room. “What of your doorway of worlds?”

“It is closed,” Loki quickly assures. “The Bi-Frost requires Heimdall’s weapon or Gungnir to work, and both are now within your possession.”

“Good. Nebula,” Thanos calls. The volume of his voice rings uncomfortably in Loki’s ears.

Without warning, Nebula strides past his side and up the steps towards the Mad Titan. Loki tries to remember if he’d noticed her when he entered. Her footsteps fall so lithe and soundless that he wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t.

“Secure this in the weapons’ vault immediately. I will be down to meet you.” A pause lasts. Loki resists the urge to look and strains to hear Nebula leaving, but then Thanos rises from the throne. Loki’s blood turns cold. “Also,” Thanos says. A smile twists into his voice. “Bring the Jotun with you.”

Shoulders tensing, Loki heaves a breath and rises to his feet. He doesn’t know whether the whole of Asgard knew his heritage beforehand, but they certainly do now. A quick scan across the room reveals the gaping stares and wide eyes of many. He feels naked, exposed, and he shoots his gaze elsewhere, to Nebula, who approaches him with Thanos’s prize without a word.

“Them,” Thanos says suddenly. He gestures to Lady Sif and two of the Warriors Three. “Do they mean anything to you?”

Loki eyes them and finds that they don’t seem much surprised to learn the truth about his birth. Sif’s glare hasn’t grown any sharper. Loki swallows. The courage to lie for them flutters unreliably in his chest, but he braves his tongue. “No more than any of the other warriors,” he says. His chest tightens. “Kill them. I couldn’t care.”

All three of them look affronted, angry now, but Loki knows this is the only chance to spare their lives.

Thoughtfully Thanos nods at his answer. “Leave,” he commands, and then Nebula grabs his forearm and sends him stumbling in the direction of the exit. Loki doesn’t fight her. He straightens himself after she lets go and follows with his head held high.

There’s no going back.

...

Though Loki has no intention of escaping (where would he go, after all), Nebula never lets Loki stray from her sight. Not until both of them are sealed in the weapons’ vault awaiting Thanos’s return. Even then, she keeps careful attention on every movement he makes, everywhere he looks. Loki courteously ignores this—she’s only doing her job.

After hearing the sobbing and screaming, the bombs and gunfire, the deathly quiet in the weapons’ vault unsettles him. If Nebula feels the same, she makes no move to speak. The weight of the silence fuels Loki’s anxieties, and his hands twitch with uncertainty. “It’s been a while,” he says, just to hear something.

Shifting, Nebula’s calculating eyes study him, his mouth, his body, but not his words.

“You healed well since last I saw you,” he continues anyway. “I remember them dragging you, your face cut to shreds and the stump of your shoulder leaving a trail of blood.” He nods towards the gleaming metal of Nebula’s right arm. “Nice prosthetic.”

Nebula frowns. “I remember you weren’t doing so well yourself.”

A laugh falls from his lips before she finishes. “Tell me, does anyone do particularly well in the proximity of your father?”

“Some do.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “Who? Gamora? I spoke with her during your absences, you know. Your envy blinds you if you believe she suffers any less than you.”

With a low hiss, Nebula bars her teeth at him. “And you suffered more? While you pitied yourself alone, I fought to survive, to live. I earned his trust. Can you claim as much as that?”

Loki smiles. “No. No, I suppose I cannot.”

The door swings open, and both of them snap to attention, silent.

Thanos descends the steps and marches towards the case of the Tesseract where Nebula left it. At the door Loki catches sight of two Chitauri sealing the entrance behind their master. Silence falls over them again. Loki hushes the sound of his breathing—now is the time.

“My Lord,” Loki begins.

Nebula’s eyes flicker towards him and then away. Thanos doesn’t turn.

“The people of Asgard,” he says, “will be hard-pressed to make any rise against you without a leader. I have hidden the All-Father somewhere they will not search. I will give you the location.” He pauses, and his stomach tingles with apprehension when Thanos still doesn’t move. “That is, I will, once you have assured me of what you promised—my freedom and my brother’s life.”

Thanos continues to stare at the Tesseract for moments too long, and Loki forces himself to stand still and strong under the deliberate indifference. “Nebula,” Thanos finally says without turning. “Check him for weapons.”

Nebula approaches and scopes down his sides. Her hands harshly squeeze at his abdomen, hips, and sleeves and steal concealed knives and other weapons as she goes. She misses nothing that Loki has kept hidden, and weaponless, he feels more vulnerable than he has in a long time. When he looks up, Thanos has turned, and Loki unveils the fury he’s been masking in his gaze.

“Our deal,” Loki says impatiently. “Asgard and the Tesseract for mine and my brother’s freedom.”

Once Nebula backs away, Thanos takes an intimidating first step forward. Loki stands his ground.

“Is it your belief that you can demand anything from me? I should have held my promise to you for your failure the first time, but I’ve been patient with you.” Thanos takes another step, and this time, Loki shifts back. “And yet—you expect me to let you walk away?”

Loki’s jaw clenches against a violent shudder. “I won’t tell you where the All-Father is unless you do. These people won’t obey you without proof of his life.”

Thanos shakes his head. “So naive. So helpless.” He reaches out and grasps Loki’s shoulder, not hard, but Loki flinches all the same. “You will tell me where the All-Father is, and you will help me find your brother. Or I will show you no mercy whatsoever and you will find yourself doing both, regardless.”

The large chiseled hand moves to his neck, thumb on the line of his jaw—the way Thor touches him—and Loki can’t speak, can’t move.

“Well?”

Loki’s chest constricts painfully. “No.”

The violet thumb lowers to his throat and presses hard against his windpipe. “No?”

Loki’s hands twitch upwards. The coward in him can’t repeat himself a second time, but neither will he change his mind. Loki breathes deeply once, then twice, before Thanos lifts his other hand to shove Loki against the wall. Fingers squeeze his neck, and Loki gasps for air. His hands tug in earnest now, but Thanos dwarves him by size and strength—he would be more than a match for Thor himself.

“Stop,” he chokes, but there’s nothing he can say that will get him out of this. Other than—

Thanos removes one massive hand and lowers it to Loki’s thighs.

The contact sends a jolt through his spine, and he keens out of fear more than anything else. No. He can’t do this again, he can’t—tears pool in his eyes, and he twists his body away until there’s nowhere to go, nowhere, he’s trapped—

Thanos gets closer. Hot breath puffs against Loki’s ear, while hips press Loki hard against the wall. Loki chokes back a sob.

“I won’t kill Thor,” Thanos promises. The breath tickles Loki’s skin, freezing him in place. “He has more purpose to me alive and unharmed—for now. Tell me where the All-Father is, and I may also find an agreeable purpose for you. Perhaps even a small amount of autonomy.”

Tears fall. The pressure on his throat subsides, and Loki finds his lungs overwhelmed with air. He strains to cough for a moment, and Thanos lets him catch his breath patiently. With the precious time, he searches the room for any escapes. Nebula watches him impassively from the rear. Even if he could slip away from Thanos who has him cornered against the wall, she would be on him in the next second.

Out of options, he looks back to Thanos. His lips press into a thin line. “The All-Father is in one of the outer sorcerers’ towers, farthest away from the city. I had one of the rooms sealed shut for all but me. An illusion conceals any sound or noise within. Your—your power should be able to break my magic so that you can enter.”

Thanos nods. “Good. And the Aether? Where is that?”

Loki swallows tightly. “Asgard never found—”

The grip on his neck tightens a second time.

Through stinging eyes, Loki gasps— “Collector. I had it delivered to the Collector. In Knowhere.”

Satsified, Thanos releases him, and Loki’s knees buckle. He collapses to the floor in a humiliating heap and focuses merely on drawing breath. He just lost everything protecting him—but it matters little. Thanos will always win. There’s no use fighting it.

“Nebula. Go at once to Knowhere and find me the Aether. Do not return to me empty-handed.”

“Yes, Father,” she says. Without a passing glance, she slips out of the weapons’ vault and leaves Thanos and Loki in silence.

Loki doesn’t bother rising to his feet when the door seals shut. He keeps as still as can be, fighting against the fear overtaking him. He is vulnerable and helpless and Thanos can do anything to him, anything, without even much of a fight.

“You will not lie to me,” Thanos says finally. “Faithfully obey my commands, and you will be rewarded. I’ll generously leave you free to move about the palace as you please, excepting my summons, and you can carry out any orders I give in the way you see best fit. You will rule Asgard as my puppet.” He lets the tantalizing option sit between them before bending down to clench Loki’s chin between calloused fingers. “But betray my will, and you will be punished. Do you understand?”

Loki nods sharply into Thanos’s palm.

“Good. On your feet and turn around.”

Loki does as he’s told.

Only when Thanos pushes him against the cold marble wall does he realize what’s happening.

“No.” His cheek hits the wall—it’s sure to leave a bruise—and he flails wildly to scramble away. “N-no, stop—” Thanos’s fist slams into his shoulder blades, and Loki stills, too winded and dizzy to do anything but keep his feet. That’s when Thanos’s other hand—Norns, Loki bites his tongue to stifle a cry when fingers dip under the leather of his clothes and into the waistband of his pants.

He struggles hard then, harder than before. Magic surges through his chest, and he reaches to unleash it.

Then, the iron fist of Thanos’s power dominates the air, choking the magic from him. Loki hears a distant wail coming from his throat, and it burns. It burns to his very core. His magic lies snuffed out and abandoned in a pile of smoking ashes. When he tries to reach it again, he yelps with pain. Tears sting all the way through his throat.

“You said—you said—” Loki murmurs, unable to form the thought, but knowing this isn’t what he bargained for.

Thanos rips down Loki’s pants and undergarments in one swift motion. A moment later, Loki’s legs are kicked apart and—he chokes on the air when he feels it pressed there, when he realizes this is reality, this is happening, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do to stop it.

His hands weakly push at the wall, but it only serves to push his hips closer to Thanos and—Loki shudders. "You said—” he tries again.

“I said if you betrayed me, you would be punished.” Thanos leans forward until his breath is hot on the back of Loki’s head. His chest is crushed by Thanos’s weight against the wall, and he feels Thanos’s length poking hard between his legs. It hurts. It’s barely started, and it already hurts. “Do not lie to me again,” Thanos says.

Then the titan shoves against him.

With the size difference and the utter lack of preparation, Thanos can’t penetrate him. Loki chokes and yelps each time he tries. Large, ruthless fingers slick with spit scrape at his entrance and stretch, stretch, stretch until he moans with pain. “I—can’t, I can’t,” Loki cries helplessly, “I can’t.”

Thanos ignores him and thrusts again.

Loki’s mind shatters. He focuses on his lungs, on his lungs, but that’s all he can do as Thanos takes ages trying to pull him open and force himself inside. Loki’s own length brushes against the wall repeatedly. Pain blends with pleasure. He sobs without reprieve as his bruised cheek slams again and again into the cold marblel, as his heels hit the floor, as his back rages with protest.

After forever passes, Thanos finally manages to get himself in—less than an inch, but Loki feels his hole tearing all the same. Still, the worst is hearing Thanos beginning to grunt—knowing that he, Loki, is indulging this monster’s pleasure.

Another inch, and Loki screams with every thrust. When he closes his eyes, stars scatter across the burning blackness. When he opens them, he sees the Tesseract shining blue, the rhythm of its light throbbing out of time with the pain between his legs. He sees Gungnir resting unused against the wall. He sees the scar marks on the floor from when the Jotuns ventured here.

Desperate for any kind of relief, he trains his mind on those details.

Something blinds him with white hot agony—something tears—and Loki howls helplessly.

Hot liquid squirts into him, and it fills him with shame he had hoped he’d never feel again.

He stops fighting. When Thanos releases him, he lets himself rest against the wall. The evidence of the act drips down his inner thighs and onto his trampled pants on the floor. He doesn’t move from the position Thanos left him in and he doesn’t speak.

The sound of Thanos’s armor clicking back into place hardly even startles him. “Go clean yourself. I expect you to return to hear my commands in no later than an hour.

Feeling a cold void sweep over his heart, Loki pushes himself from the wall and draws his spoiled pants to his waist in mechanical movements. “Yes, My Lord,” he murmurs. Still incredibly tender, Loki somehow manages to hobble up the steps and out the door. The Chitauri don’t react as he passes, but they’ve heard his screams. They know.

Loki can’t pity himself. He can’t cry.

Detached, he heads towards the chambers of Asgard’s king to do as Thanos commands.

[shirewalker]

Hey! For the ship fic with sappy and smutty, Han/Leia no.5 (sappy) in a changing room?

+ “I’ve wanted this for song long”

Again, soft AU tho it’s still in a galaxy far far away. Also, Holdo shows up at the end lol (she KNOWS stuff, she’s totes the friend that knows what’s going on at all times)

Rated E ofc

“I’vewanted this for so long!” Leia let out, her hands trembling as she undid thebuttons of her clothes.

Han trippedon the way to his own changing room and looked back at her, “What?”

She stoppedand looked at him, “The laser tag test, Han.” She frowned, noticing the brightblush that coloured his cheeks.

Han coughedand looked away, “Oh, right.” He opened the door and sighed. Leia had utteredthose words in such a breathless way… That paired with her stripping down wasbound to make him think… Stuff. Considering he’d been wondering where theystood for a long time now, no one could blame Han Solo for thinking Leia haddecided to take some sort of plunge.

“You’re alittle distracted. Nervous about the test?”

“What? Ohno. I know I’ll ace it.” He looked over his shoulder and flashed his best smuggrin. It nearly fell off his face when he saw that Leia was wearing just herpanties and an undershirt. He instantly regretting looking her way as his bodyreacted quite happily to the sight. They’d kissed once. And then Leia had runoff on him.

“Ofcourse.” She scoffed, though he knew she was smiling.

“AfterwardsI’ll need to go get a new uniform.” He said out of the blue, as they waited fortheir turn.

Leianodded, “Me too, I ripped mine during our last mission on the Desert Moon.”

Han’s heartfluttered a little, “We can go together.”

“Soundsperfect.” The doors opened and their names were called. Leia rose a teasingeyebrow, “Ready to ‘ace’ this?”

“Always.”

--

Miss Holdo’sdesk was empty. A message was blinking in her signboard, the neon lightstaunting the two of them. “Your uniforms are ready. Call your name and code number.I’ll be back in two hours. Holdo.”

Leia sighed,“She’s been seeing that pilot a lot lately. I bet that’s who’s keeping her awayright now.” She leaned into Holdo’s intercom and stated her name and codenumber.

“PrincessLeia, honorary member, changing room number 4.” The machine announced.

She sighed,“Why haven’t they changed that honorary thing yet? Just because I’m theprincess it doesn’t change my place in the Rebellion system.”

Hanchuckled, “Actually, your worshipness, it does.”

“Oh, stopcalling me that.” She pointed at the intercom, “Go ahead, and call for yours.”

He did.

As hefollowed Leia into yet another changing room, Han couldn’t help but think theuniverse was taunting him. Probably a result of not believing Luke’s beliefs onthe Force or something. It wasn’t his fault, he just had never been provenwrong on his own beliefs. But hey, if the universe gave him an opening withLeia… Maybe he’d begin to change his mind.

A handcaught his as he passed by Leia’s changing room. Before he could do anything,Leia was pulling him into the cubicle. Han’s heart fled the scene, not readyfor this kind of opening happening so fast. But then, “Han, help me out withthis zipper. It won’t go down no matter what.” Leia huffed, back to him.

Ashamed forthinking such things, his heart returned home, tiny and pale with disappointment.Han nodded and pulled down the zipper, “I don’t understand your obsession withthese dresses and these zippers. I thought you preferred the practicality ofyour suits.” He let out, fighting a little with the zipper. He bit his tongueto stop himself from saying the rest. He didn’t understand her obsession withwearing dresses for five minutes, but they always looked fantastic on her. So,he kept his teasing to rare moments. Like now.

“I likethem. Feels good to change once in a while, Han.” She gasped then, when thezipper gave in and the back of Han’s hand brushed her skin.

A smirkdanced on his lips, “Something the matter, Leia?”

“No, no!”She shook her head, though her voice trembled hard enough to give away hownervous she was. Han’s heart began to glow, perhaps…

“Leia…” Herasped and leaned in to brush his lips over the back of her neck, hand softlypushing aside the locks of hair that’d fallen from her grip.

A shudderwent through her, “Han…”

“What arewe doing, Leia?” He continued, his lips still on that patch of skin, both dyingto explore at once and waiting for her word.

“Han… Whymust you make everything difficult?” She said, even though she didn’t moveaway.

“I makeeverything difficult, don’t I? It’s because of you. You drive me crazy. Youlike my scoundrel side. You love to snap at me for the littlest of things justfor the sake of snapping at me…” He said, a hand now gingerly on the curve ofher waist, fingers drumming against the fabric, aching to throw it away and totouch her skin.

“I don’tlike your scoundrel, side. I happen to like nice men, Han…” She counteredthrough a shudder and Han felt a smirk curve his lips. Witty Leia, alwaysmeeting every word of his, now only managed to counter one of this arguments,and quite meekly at that…

“I am anice man.” He rasped, lips traveling to her pulse as Leia leaned her head away,beckoning him closer and closer.

“Oh… Han…”She moaned at the first brush of lips against her pulse. Her back arched andher whole body leaned into his in a silent request for more and more and more. “Holdowon’t be back for two hours…” She let out, finally voicing her permission,finally admitting to wanting more than the little games they’ve been playing upuntil now.

His hands travelledto the exposed skin, fingers digging under the fabric and climbing up her back,peeling away the dress with a patience Han never knew he even had. The softsound of fabric hitting the ground drove him mad with anticipation, and beforehe could control himself, her bra was snapped off and gone in a heartbeat. Agroan climbed up his throat when her hands touched him and Leia began toblindly undress him. “Leia… Your worshipness…” He chuckled, fully aware of howmuch she hated and loved that little nickname, “Do you want to do the honours?”

“Icertainly am not going to stand here practically naked while you kiss me andremain fully dressed.” She snapped back.

Han droppedhis hands and stood back as she turned on the spot and he finally took a goodlook of her expression. Leia was… aroused. As much and as badly as he was. Hercheeks were flushed red, her lips were parted and had a little pout that beggedto be kissed and her chest heaved fast, thirsty, demanding.

Somewherebetween that moment of quiet and the next heartbeat he took, Han’s clothes weregone and Leia’s lips were on his. At last. It had been too long since theirfirst kiss, far too long. And it had changed since then. While the first wasquick and shy at the same time, this one was a slow burn and needy. As if bothwould die should they ever stop kissing, as if each other’s air was the onlyway of breathing, as if time was theirs to bend and stretch and play with. Leia’slips tasted of caramel and her moans smelled of coffee. Her breakfast, herfavourite breakfast. They glided over his with haste, yet he was certain shewas making sure she remembered all the curves and tilts his mouth made. Histongue traced her mouth and with a moan, Leia welcomed him in, meeting himhalfway as the kiss was deepened.

“Leia… Oh,Leia…” He rasped when the kiss was broken, his mouth tracing her jaw and neckas he tasted her endlessly.

A loud moanescaped her lips when he found a sweet spot and played with it, “Han…! Oh stars…Oh stars…! Han…” She passed her hands through his hair over and over again,playing with it before dragging her nails down is back. Down, down, down. Shecupped his backside and squeezed, a giggle following suit when he groaned atthe tease.

“I’vewanted this for so long…” He rasped, echoing those harmless words of hers backinto her mouth.

Leiachuckled, arms back around his neck as he hoisted her up and eased into her, “Sothat is why you were so red when I said that. Your mind was somewhere else…”She breathed and licked her lips, savouring the sensation of having Han insideher. He fitted her almost too perfectly. “Oh… You feel so good, Han.”

Han pressedhis forehead to hers and said, “You too, your worshipness.”

“You reallylove calling me that, don’t you?”

“It rilesyou up, and I love it when you’re so riled up.” He said as he rolled his hipsslowly. In and out, so slowly it drew new sounds out of Leia that Han had neverheard. And how lovely those sounds were. She locked her legs around his waistand brought him closer with a cried moan as his sudden thrust hit all the rightbuttons.

“Oh…!” Hermoans grew louder and less coherent, Han’s thrusts growing in speed.

His heartwas so full right now, his whole body focused on nothing but Leia and her bodyand her moans and cries and how fantastic they sounded to him. Leia demandedspeed and he moved faster. Leia demanded more and he thrust harder. Whatevershe asked for, Han gave without hesitation, wishing nothing more than to climaxin the arms of the only woman that had ever made him feel the so-called “fuzzyfeelings”.

“Leia… Leia…Leia…” Her name was a permanent presence on his lips. His head was nested onthe crook of her neck as Leia pulled his hair and demanded more and more andmore.

“Kiss me,Han… Kiss me…” She begged.

He lookedup and his gaze met hers. They hadn’t stopped yet, not yet, though the edge wasdrawing closer by the heartbeat. Her eyes shined so bright, in spite of beinghooded in the heat of the moment. She was absolutely and without a doubt themost beautiful creature he had ever seen in all his years in space. Nothing hadever gotten close to her beauty, even before they had ever crossed paths. Hiseyes fell to her lips. Her mouth was open in a round ‘O’, lips swollen fromkissing and biting, and soft moans kept pouring out of her. His name, yesses,his name again. “I love you, Leia…” He rasped before bringing his lips to hers,before capturing her cry of pleasure, before swallowing down that beautifulsound that would follow him forever.

--

“I’m back!”Holdo called from the entrance and Han quickly finished putting on his shirt.

Leiacoughed and pushed him out of her booth, whispering something about not beingcaught together.

“Too latefor that, Leia.” He whispered as he came face to face with Holdo.

Her brightpink hair was fashioned into a high bun today, her bright blue eyes clashingwith it in a way that felt almost too fantastic to be real. Yet her eyes werereally that blue. But not innocent blue, oh no. A knowing smirk spread on herface, “Oh, you two? At last. I was starting to think I’d have to force you intoone booth one of these days. Ah, Leia! You look lovely, that after-sex glowlooks amazing on you.”

Leia blinkedat her friend as she exited the booth and a bright blush exploded to life onher face, “What? After what?”

Holdoscoffed and turned to their uniforms, “I trust they fit you to perfection, soyou don’t have to go back in and try them for real this time. Did good use of thefree time? I hope so.” She walked away, ignoring their embarrassed faces, “Idemand gossip tonight, Leia!”

“She set usup?” Han croaked after a moment.

Leia hidher face in her hands and groaned, “She has been for a while now. And I realisedit only now… Oh stars…”

“Well,” Hecleared his throat, “It was a lovely afternoon, still.”

A smilefought through her pained expression, “It was. Oh!” She froze and turned tohim, an expression of pure horror distorting her face, “You said… And I didn’t…!”She buried her face in her hands once more, “I’m so sorry, Han.”

“Aboutwhat?” He was confused. What was she sorry about? “For not saying it backthere?”

“Yes. Thatwas uncalled for.”

“I don’tknow what you mean. You may not have worded it,” His voice dropped a notch andhe pulled her into his embrace, “But the way you looked at me and cried my nameand kissed me back… It said enough.”

Her eyesfluttered a little, “Oh?”

“Yes. Iknow, Leia. I know.”

“You’re notgoing to stop me from saying it, are you?”

He shookhis head, “Go ahead, your worshipness.”

She rolledher eyes and placed her hands on his chest, where his heart seemed to stutter, “Ilove you too, Han.”

He flashedhis best and most troublesome smirk, “I know.”

[riverofmemoriesft]

. Between the Lines . 188

The Natsu above her gave a sound that thundered deep in his chest, tearing through him viciously as he glared at the future Rogue. Heat rolled off of him in dangerous waves and the future Rogue suddenly took a step back.

Lucy untangled herself from the new person, unsure of how to react. She stumbled over on her hands and knees to the future Lucy, who was blinking blearily, her gaze distant, coughing. Blood bubbled from her throat. "Wendy-"

Wendy was too terrified to move, horrified by the sight before her, but she still managed to get out, "I can't."

The future Lucy caught Lucy's hand and gripped it tightly. "Please," she urged, and Lucy flinched as her blood spattered her face. "Natsu-"

"I won't let him die," Lucy said fiercely. Her gaze flickered to Natsu, who looked lost, his hands shaking. She grimaced. She'd comfort him when she had the chance.

To her surprise, the future Lucy shook her head, struggling. She tightened her grip painfully before suddenly caressing Lucy's emblem. "He can't...die. The dragons didn't-" Lucy wasn't entirely sure on the meaning behind what she'd said, but listened. She was heaving for air, and Lucy wished there was something they could do. The strange Natsu had frozen in place now, looking at them with a despairing sadness that crushed Lucy's heart.

The future Lucy smiled weakly and then suddenly dragged Lucy down to her, choking in her ear so only she could hear, "Go...to the Gate. Zeref. He's…" She didn't get the chance to finish what she'd said.

She suddenly choked and went still, her body going limp.

"Lucy," Natsu rasped, shaking. "Lucy-"

"Natsu," Lucy said hastily, reaching over and ignoring the blood on her hands and knees as she drew his forehead to hers. He was in tears. They rolled down his cheeks endlessly, his gaze terrified. "I'm right here. I haven't gone anywhere."

"Dead," he managed to get out, voice strangled. "You're dead!"

"No," she denied, shaking her head. "I'm not, and we need to get a move on. I have to get to the Eclipse Gate."

"Tch," the future Rogue suddenly sneered. "A pity she died in vain. Closing the Gate will only hurt you more."

Something in Natsu's expression changed and Lucy sensed the snap before he even whirled around and bellowed out a blast of fire, his body suddenly cloaked in it. "How dare you?" he cried, voice rising into a scream. "How dare you take her away?!"

"We need to leave," Gray said grimly, looking shaken. He grabbed Lucy's shoulder, faltering. But he shook his head, keeping his gaze turned firmly away. "Natsu looks like he's got things handled here, Lucy."

She swiped at her eyes and nodded curtly. She quickly pressed a kiss to her future self's head, vowing to complete what she'd set out to do, and was startled when the cloaked man that she had no doubt about being her stalker shuffled over. He knelt beside the future Lucy's body and touched her cheek with calloused fingers. Gone was that strange rage, as if he'd given it to their own Natsu.

"You weren't my Lucy," he said gruffly. His eyes were full of a pain she couldn't comprehend. "Never. But you understood my pain and thank you for that. For everything you did to help me in this never-ending adventure, Lucy."

And then he rocketed to his feet, eyes burning into Lucy's. Her lips parted, her expression full of shock. "We have to get to the Gate. That's all that matters now. And we have to make damn sure we close it."

"Right," Lucy whispered, and then froze as a siren went off. Several echoed it and it wasn't long before the entire city was filled with screaming sirens.

The future Rogue laughed and the odd Natsu before Lucy swore hastily under his breath.

"It's time," the future Rogue purred, throwing his arms out. "Here they come."

For the first time in eight years - excluding Tenrou, naturally - Natsu heard a roar that threatened to split his ear drums, and it brought him up short. He'd know the roar of dragons anywhere. He prided himself in saying that Igneel had taught him how to understand their language, not something even most dragon slayers could do.

"Go!" he bellowed to Lucy, glaring over his shoulder. His heart was in chaos. Something was very, very clearly wrong, his chest ached as the dangerous copy of himself dragged Lucy upright, rubbing his own, and he knew somewhere in the back of his mind what he had to do.

"Natsu-" Lucy protested, but Yukino grabbed her arm.

"Lucy, we don't have time," she hissed. "The Games!"

Thousands, millions maybe, of innocent lives-

Oh, no, Lucy thought in terror. She nodded. Trying to keep herself calm, she cast Natsu a final, longing look, and then tore off, entrusting the future Rogue to him. The rest of the group set off after her, and Lucy guided them through twisting turns. When they reached the outside, Lucy stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet in her shock.

"Dragon," Wendy breathed.

Sure enough, a dragon stood over them. It towered a countless amount of feet in the sky, eyes glittering hatefully. One sweep of its massive tail sent a building crumbling to the ground, and it roared, making Lucy yelp and cover her ears.

"Levy got the evacuations going," the future Natsu said suddenly, looking relieved. He was studying the people streaming out of the city, moving quickly. His eyes flashed. "Gray, they need to know what's going on entirely-"

"On it," he said fiercely. He turned to Lily, who nodded and then glared at him.

"I can't carry you without a shirt, Fullbuster!"

"Right," Gray yelped. "Sorry-"

"Here." Lucy tore the black cloak from her shoulders and wrapped it around his shoulders with a quick smile. He shot her a grateful look and then ran off with Lily clinging to his back.

"Charle, I have an idea," Wendy said suddenly, eyes flashing. She sent Lucy a quick smile. "Deal with the Gate. I'm going to go find the other dragon slayers!"

"Brilliant!" Lucy cried and then darted forward. She could hear Happy's miserable sobs on her head and pulled him into her arms, wondering when he'd even gotten there. He cuddled as close as he could get. Yukino and the future Natsu gave chase. "Happy-"

"You died," he sobbed. "We watched you die!"

"Not me," she said gently. "I didn't die, Happy-"

"Look out!" She and Yukino were tackled out of the way as a dragon's foot descended, its roar echoing in their ears. Lucy heard a distant explosion in the royal family's palace as Natsu and the future Rogue tore at one another to try and stop each other's plans. She watched as one dragon took flight, heavy wings beating at the air and a small fleck attach itself to the dragon's side.

A flaming blur scrambled up after him. Natsu had left to chase the future Rogue into the sky, his body blazing, and she bit her lip, clutching Happy as she imagined him falling to his death-

"The Gate!" Yukino's voice cried, snapping through her thoughts. "Look!"

Lucy craned her head back. They'd made it past the gardens and into the area that held the Gate itself. They stared as a third and then fourth dragon emerged from the light, screaming their cries, ground trembling beneath each step.

The future Natsu - who Lucy distinctly remembered being claimed to be dead - swore. "This isn't good. There were less dragons last time. Shit!"

Lucy shuddered in fear as one cloaked in flames emerged, screaming its rage. It was followed by an aquatic dragon of sorts, with fins rising and falling, and then an emerald-scaled creature that stopped before the gate to look at the humans beneath it.

"We have to close the Gate to stop them," Lucy said firmly. "Even seven dragons is better than infinite."

They all shoved themselves to their feet and Lucy longed for her keys, the support that Loke brought with him as she snapped her whip. Suddenly, there was a cry from Happy. He'd clung to her shoulder, and was pointing at the dragon that had taken flight as Natsu and the future Rogue fought upon its back. "Lucy!"

Her gaze snapped on the countless bombs that seemed to drop from the dragon as it shedded scales. She blinked when she realized they weren't scales, but some kind of dragon-like creatures that had begun to spread through the city. Within seconds, explosions of magic and whatever the creatures could use had filled the air and Lucy could only stare around them in horror as Crocus went up in smoke.

The future Gajeel still couldn't believe that they'd gotten as many people as they had out before it had all gone down. He remembered his wife sprinting up to him with an excited look, claiming that all of the guildmasters had believed her and gotten to work. The Council hadn't been as willing to believe until her past self had shown up and stood there, side-by-side with her, hazel eyes blazing with determination.

There wasn't a single mage who wasn't fighting now. All of the innocents had been evacuated, protected in the nearest clearing in the mountains by the Council and several spells and walls and barriers that had been put up by mages before it had all begun.

He was even more amazed by the way the king of Fiore had stood over them in his box in the arena, several guildmasters at his side, and rallied the mages beneath him - guild members, non-guild members, and even some regular people who had refused to leave, determined to fight and protect their home and families.

None of this had happened all those years ago. There had been no organization, no people there to help them - except for that bastard Salamander. He'd been there. He'd been through this enough times to know several possibilities.

He still remembered what he'd said when he'd finally demanded the truth. He'd met his gaze amongst the devastation and told him, "I'm the first and I've gone through that Gate countless times. I lose every single time. I know who I am and the truth of everything that would have been had this not happened. I've seen our dragons and I've watched them die for you and for me. I have lived this horror for thousands of years, and I beg of you to not ask me again."

He hadn't. The future Gajeel didn't understand how this Natsu from countless futures could be thousands of years old and still look like he was in his twenties, but he hadn't bothered to ask. He'd never asked again.

He remembered how when their Natsu had died, his chest torn to pieces as Lucy sobbed over him, Levy desperately trying to staunch the bleeding of her missing arm, this strange and ancient man had looked over them with sadness - and even a little bit of delight, as if he'd liked watching people die.

The future Gajeel took a deep breath, shaken by his memories.

A hand suddenly took his and his eyes snapped open, darting to the woman who fearlessly grabbed his taloned hand and gave him a kind smile as she said shakily, aware that a dragon was emerging from the Gate, "Are you okay?"

She didn't demand questions, as he'd expected, didn't jump for joy that he was alive in their future. She didn't look in horror at the scales and teeth and piercing dragon-like eyes. "...no," he admitted, gently pulling his hand away. She didn't need to attach herself to him. She had her own version of him to worry about.

But Levy didn't seem to think about that as she told him, "It's okay, you know. That you didn't win last time."

His brow rose, piercings glittering in the light of the setting sun. "The hell you talkin' 'bout, Shorty?"

The younger version of his Levy smiled and her eyes dazzled in a way he hadn't seen for nearing a decade. "Your world is lost, but ours isn't yet, and we won't let it fall." She took his hand again and this time, he let her squeeze it until her own bled from the sharpness of the scales that cloaked it.

"Besides," she continued, looking to the sky as a dragon launched itself, strange scales shedding from its flanks.

"What world can end without me reading Lucy's last book that she promised to write specifically for me?"