#oh well at least i finished it while the fallout show just released

[nocturneneko]

Commission for @hiredzombie of Amicus and Marco in Fallout gear

[makahimetenshi]

Two separated ways - Chapter 5 - Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor x Paladin Danse Fallout 4 Fanfic

This is the continuation of the fourth drabble from my collection Two separated ways, and I might do a fourth and fifth part even.

I didn’t plan on doing explicit lemon, more like little shots or conversations but nothing so daring, I have to post them separately this way but okay

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

The desk wasnt ready for a session of good fucking but he never would think on this happening, less now, never also fantasied with it but oh well why would he say no? His things and tools fall down to the ground but as soon the zipper of the suit moved down and show off some skin his lips moved there to bite and suck her neck

A hand sneak inside the suit and now grope a boob, his palm meeting hot flesh making him groan against her neck causing her a nice purr from the vibration.

-I don’t think this is an appropriate way of dressing for the mother of the future child of the elder –he said whispering with his lips on her collarbone.

-Ill take note about it elder –she said after gasping smiling, moving a hand behind his neck, hot and sweaty.

-Good

Arthur bite a bit on her bone, making her moan outloud, licking up on the veins of her neck, biting the surroundings, small bites to play and test her flesh, he didn’t want to break any skin, it was important to make sure she doesn’t get hurt easy but he already had a notion from knowing her in battle.

The day they destroyed the institute together they fight side to side. See her blasting synths with explosives and power fists, getting shooted with laser rifles and for what he can see…she has thought skin.

So he started to suck harder, leaving red sucking marks, making the smooch that officially marked her, slowly,  moved up, caressing slowly her ear with his nose and lips, breathing against it causing her shivers.

Meanwhile his hands were taking down the black suit, taking it off from her arms, desperate to pull it down her waist and more.

Arthur bit her lobe, pleased from the sounds coming from her mouths.

Nora wasn’t behind, she was taking down his heavy coat, trying to make him cooperate to take the coat off his arms but he was too occupied with the arms to lend her, he cant loose a second of enjoying her body for anything…

Until she spoke.

-Arms off elder –and for some reason his legs shake and do what she told him, taking out the arms as she toss the coat aside the desk. Her hands started to take the zipper down, opening the belts while she look directly into his eyes. And for some other reason he was frozen in his place, wanting to obey and be her toy, letting her work to release his flesh out, his mouth was dry despite being tongue kissing just a few minutes ago but…

What a powerful gaze

Once his arms were off the suit fall on his hips, staying just because of his underwear. Nora started moving his hands on his shoulders down his strong arms, with his gaze fixiated on his  hairy chest. He can see she was exited too.

His own eyes were fixiated on her breasts, loving the view but a shiver make him tremble from heads to toes when her hands touched his elbows to go down and pick his hands, pulling from them and letting herself fall on the desk, the man understood and lean down to stay on top of her, using his hands as a support at sides of her head.

She sighted at the view of Arthur Maxson on top of her, then, close her eyes  as the man kiss her again, she hugged him from the back, exploring with her fingers his muscles and oh boy he was in well shape oh yes Wasn’t as big and huge as Danse but who cares right now, he felt just as firm and solid as him…Then sneak a tongue inside making him moan, touching soft and caring making him shiver and moan again, how cute.

The elder keep a hand as support on the side of her head and the other while the other grope a boob, squeezing it before moving down the sides and curves or her waist, touching the edge of the suit stuck on her panties, well at least she had that, at realizing what he wanted to do she started to move around her hips, encouranging him to pull down the damn fabric out the way, so he did, started to pull down with a bit of effort the black suit and the underwear, passing down her thights while she helped moving her legs so it fall down bellow her knees. Stoping on her boots

When Arthur realized what was in front of him stop the kissing, sighting, breathing for a few moments looking directly into  her eyes.

Oh my god he was about to bang Danse woman.

No, she wasn’t Danse woman at all, and she reach specially to him because of that.

He also wanted to do it, desired her, and he was right here right now.

Moved down to stand with the boots on the floor, place both hands on the sides of her wide white hips and say looking at her red cheeks.

-Relax Sentinel –and she nodded, giving her consent, that’s all he needed. But he took one more second to look at the delicacy in front of him

What a hot view.

Hairless? Interesting.

Picking up from her hips to her legs Arthur spread her open and sttarted to eat between her folds, going directly to suck her clit, yes, suck it, suck hard loving the way it gets between his lips and oh my he wasn’t the only enjoying it, her whole body was trembling. Fearing ti wasn’t a good trembling he moved slowly and step by step up to her button, again sucking, and hitting it with the tip of his tongue.

Now she moved one hand to the back of his neck, sweaty and hot neck, moaning and screaming by moments, biting on her lip loving the intensity of how his mouth was working down there

-That’s good –she managed to say, and then his tongue slip down on her juices getting inside her, tasting it from the source, making her legs  jump of surprise- oh my

Wasn’t this a wonderfull way to get motivated?  And she tasted exquisite also.

-Need more? –he asked with his tongue out of her and his beard wet of her juices.

-Yes –like she was the elder and he the sentinel, ready to fulfill orders and wishes, he sank inside two of his fingers, normally you would start with one, just as a courtesy, also this was the first time both do it but goddam she was so  wet and ready, she can handle it just fine.

So while his fingers started to thrust and move inside, going as deep it possibly can, he keep sucking and playing with the tip of his tongue on her button,  hitting it faster and then licking with the whole of his tongue.

She screamed and turn her neck back, even hitting on the desk, damn it sound harsh?

-Are you okay? –he ask still with his fingers inside, looking up he just see her troubled face and a nood, ok, didn’t mind, keep going.

He moved down  again but this time change orders, his tongue going inside licking and sucking the most of her juices, swallowing that sweet taste, loving the sticky play on his beard and his fingers playing with her clit, piching between the pads carefully and slowly getting intoxicating by the smell mix of her fluids and his saliva, a strange strong smell but my god so good, fills him entirely. Then by the corner of his eye saw her moving her hands to her tits, playing with her nipples, surely wanting to increase the feeling.

Oh my. Something hit hard on his cock at that view

Arthur lick from her entrance all the way up to her button, and then suck, trusting his fingers inside again starting to move faster than ever, then, heard a low gasp from the deepest of her throat –im close –when the man heard that a groan came from him

-alright baby – for a moment that sounded funny to Nora but quickly she didn’t have the chance to think in anything else, he started to suck and lick again on her button and yes the friction of his fingers inside her were so good, even with the man on top of her legs she tried to step better on the desk and place them more comfortable, now being able to move her hips by her own by need against him until

-I…I…don’t stop –she said in a pleading, and he didn’t, keep working and sucking only raising his eyes to look at her, prepared to finally see her orgasm striking, stoping specially his mouth only in the moment a bolt hit her body entirely making her legs jump against his arms, feeling the warm and dense liquid going down on his fingers

A groan came out from his mouth at the view and then he raised, place himself on top of her body  and leave small smooches on her cheek with loud little noises hiding his nose on her hair, something that feeled very intimate and delicate for what they were doing specially with the sound of her breathing relaxing from her orgasm- im going in sentinel –he whisper in her ear with a raspy velvety voice, and feel the movement of her head nodding.

He moved off and Nora took the time to look at his bared sweaty chest one more time, then with a sloppy simple movement he flipped the woman on the desk, it sounded, of course, but it wasn’t harsh or brute, nono, it didn’t hurt at all, just the movement over the furniture. Nora was turned with her stomach down over the cool metal desk with her ass up.

And what a nice ass for sure.

Oh my his mind was lusting so much, and he wasn’t even touched, didn’t realize until now how much it hurts to be this exited untouched he was bewitched this whole time by her scent and forget at all his needs, even with the suit half down the fabric on top was unbereable to keep on, so desesperatly he pull down the suit and his underwear, grabbing his hard and hot cock between his fingers, strocking a bit desesperate getting closer to her entrance.

Gosh even the heat emanating from between her asscheeks make him loose control over his senses, but no he had principles, he pressed the wet head of his cock first to try and play a bit and of course she was so wet and ready, when he heard her little moans from the play of his cock and her clit he moved directly to her entrance and pushed inside, both moaned and he leaned over her back, and what a nice back, elegant, well shaped, with some scars but terribly sexy to look at.

-you are hard –she said with what he saw was a vicious smile, and then pushed deeper, both moaning at the same time again, oh my getting inside after making a woman cum was the best, everything was so soft and warm, even the movement inside feels soft

-yes -he mumble and one of his hands grab her hips, using it as a support like some kind of handle.

A handle to ride a mare, a fine specimen.

His boots stand better and he started moving, thrusting, with a hand on the sides of her body and the other manhanding a hip, closing his eyes to relax and enjoy.

Gosh her ass was so soft the way his crotch and stomach meet with her asscheeks everytime was delicious, the sound was good, the feeling of her skin, the way the flesh moved, even looking down the play and dance was exquisite. How can Danse turn down  on this after tasting it even? Madman.

This was hothothot and oh my this was good too, he was fucking a sentinel.

All his life he has been groomed to marry a perfect woman to bear healthy children and  hold the reputation of his lineage high, and now the chance was pinned down him, sweating and receiving, damn the chance look for him and ask for his seed specially. The image of his family three with Elder Arthur Maxson and Sentinel Nora Maxson oh my gosh that give him a boost, and started to thrust harder.

A Sentinel, my god he had expensives tastes, the other one he ever liked was one too…

Looked down and see the hand he had as support at the side of where her boob was, and without loosing balance and with a perfect stability he sneaked it down her body, groping and massaging it, making her head go up to gasp. That response sent something harsh to his cock that make him moan loud and needy. Yes, this was good, perfect.

The other hand moved to one of her asscheeks and spread it open, even if he didn’t need it because the pose was comfortable enough and the desk was holding her body entirely but he wanted to taste that ass personally and the eyes weren’t enough.

Arthur had something heavy in his chest, something big growing suffocating him, blocking between his chest and his neck, mymy already? Well no its no surprise, he hold on for too long while doing her, didn’t even realize how big and amused he got, besides she was so wet and warm.

He wished to see more.

The elder wants to keep seeing more of her.

Wants to spread her legs open in all diferent options.

This cannot end here.

It was pretty obvious he was close for Nora, the rhythm of his breath, how much he was accelerating unconsciously, how rought and sloppy his hands were turning, how pitched the moans were turning.

And ohmygosh she didn’t expect his voice of pleasure to be so sexy! Expressive and manly!

The biggest thing to notice was the sporadic twitching of his cock inside, its okay, he was a gentleman, took care of her first, didn’t actually expect that from a man with so much power but on some other hand it was difficult to imagine  him otherwise, didn’t have a bad vive…

Nora was loving the weight of his hot and hard body on top, even the way his legs crushed against hers feeled so good. The noises of the desk moving weren’t enough to distract her over what the man was doing with her body.

Both hands hold her by the waist and she gasped out loud, he was close, and he moved good also, even if she came it feels so damn good inside and…

But sluddenly and out of nothing, he pulled out, stroking his cock between his fingers on one of her rounded asscheeks, the woman felt the hot liquid crash into her skin and went frozen…

Wh-why…

He grunted, loud and deep, masculine, very sexy, cumming on her ass but not…why…

She waited for him, to breath, to relax, to finally open his eyes until…a hand scatter his cum in her leg and asscheek, spread it over, felt dirty but also…

When she look back found the man with light blue eyes looking directly at her, like he has been waiting for her gaze.

-Youll have to win my seed…-he mumble taking a breath, recomposing-sentinel-he  hissed before gropping that same wet and hot asscheek, playing with her flesh- the right to carry the elders firstborn  is not something as easy to get from me

Both stay in silent, looking at each other, he had a smile and she was…confused…this didn’t go as she planned.

-Okay –for a moment he separate, but then, step closer, pinning her down again to the desk, pressing his stomach and his now soft cock on her back, going down to whisper in her ear.

-You will not retire from the brotherhood service until you are carrying my firstborn- his nose moved around her ear, giving her a shiver of surprise at the feeling of his hot wet breath against that sensitive spot, same with the hairs of his beard around her neck-but you will have to earn it.

She stay in silent, breathing in and out, feeling wet and used but at the same time…very aroused.

-Alright.

[whump-town]

Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”. 

I will write the other fic as well 

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.

[gophergal]

So, I started this oneshot in January, as I mentioned to @bucketofcowboys, but only just finished it a couple days ago. Is this something y'all follow me for? Not in the slightest, but oh well, you're in my circle of hell now. Enjoy? I guess? I don't know, dudes, I'm not your boss.

What Ever Happens

Word Count: 3,000+ | Rating: T+ | Fem!Vault Dweller x Ian (Fallout 1) | M/F

The sun beamed down on the scorched earth surrounding Ash, making the air oppressively hot as she trekked through the sands. It was the total opposite of the cool, clean vault she'd grown up in, with it's artificial lights, cramped spaces, and tight knit community. Though, the more she learned of the wasteland, the more she came to know that the communities were just as close knit, but not by force. There was a liveliness to this world that was so unlike her own. Still, she found herself yearning to be back home, before she took her first steps out here. She squinted as another bead of sweat threatened to fall into her eye, releasing her grip on her pack of supplies to wipe it away.

Yes, the desert was a wasteland, a far cry from her home, but it had one thing the vault could never claim. Ian, her traveling companion, the strong and loyal man that had saved her ass on more than one occasion. Even when he had gruffly criticized her for the way she handled a gun, his large hands were gentle as he corrected her grip on the weapon. He was wasteland bred and born, and it showed in the scars that littered his tanned skin. Had he refused to travel with her, she'd surely have perished, along with all of the residents of her vault. As if on cue, Ian turned slightly to look at her, frowning. She stopped staring, averting her eyes slightly.

“So, what's the plan, vaultie?” He asked. Ash struggled for a moment, looking for something to say. She hadn't thought about it after the Overseer had given her a new task, not the entire time she and Ian had begun walking in the direction of Shady Sands, the small village east of the vault She had other matters on her mind, but finally she spoke.

“I guess the best thing would be to resupply and ask around. We don't exactly know where they're all coming from,” she replied, shrugging as she looked in the direction of the town.

“Yeah,” he said, resuming his march onward, “we don't want a repeat of what happened in Necropolis.”

Ash could agree with that. Their time in Necropolis had been fine, up until it went to hell in a hand-basket, that is. Sure, they both got out of it alive, but it had been by pure luck that neither of them caught the business end of a flamer and been killed. Next time, up against even more super mutants, they may not be so lucky.

“Besides,” he began, “we have to pick up Dogmeat. The poor mutt's probably been missing you a hell of a lot while we've been in the vault.”

They'd left the dog in the care of Tandi, the daughter of Shady Sands' leader, while they took the water chip to the overseer due to the vault's “no animals” policy. Dogmeat had whined pitifully when Ash had commanded him to stay put, but obeyed as he was loyal to his master. In truth, she was quite happy to be back out in the wasteland. If she hadn't, she would have never have the chance to wish her beloved canine goodbye.

She nodded in agreement, tightening her grip on her pack, “You lead the way.” Ian rolled his eyes at her and set the pace of their trip.

***

The walk back to Shady Sands had been uneventful. Even rad scorpions seemed to avoid their path, though that may have been due in part to the destruction they caused to their nest. As they walked, Ash stole glances at her companion, watching the way that his muscles shifted as he moved. The way that his hair was mussed by the slight dry breeze. His face was set in it's usual blank half-frown that made his emotions hard to read. She supposed that it came with growing up out here, remembering how her own expressive nature had caused trouble for them more than once. Suppressing a sigh, she stared ahead, watching as their destination grew larger in the distance.

Upon entering the settlement, Dogmeat bound up to his owner, leaping on to her and knocking her down. He licked her face, tail wagging wildly. Ash laughed, petting the dog as she got to her feet and dusted herself off. The two guards cracked a smile slightly, then stood at attention once again. Tandi greeted the two back happily, surprised to see the vault dweller back at all.

“What are you doing back, Ash?”

“I- well, the Overseer had something else he needed me to do before I return for good. It'll take some time to complete though, so the wasteland isn't rid of me yet,” she joked.

“Pity. You sure have raised hell out here. I'm glad to see you again though.:

The two young women chatted for a while in the shade, hiding from the sun that hung high in the sky, beating down on the desert. That same harsh sun slowly made it's journey through the sky as the day drew on. Ash startled when a hand grabbed her bicep, her free hand reflexively reaching for the pistol that hung off her hip. She let out a breath, relaxing instantly when she realized that it was just Ian, trying to get her attention.

“We should probably stay here for tonight. We'll head to Junktown in the morning. We'll see if Killian knows anything that could help us,” he said.

She nodded her agreement, following him to the dwelling that he used to stay in while he lived in Shady Sands. It was actually the home of Seth, the man who guarded the settlement's gate during the day. He'd been so generous as to share his space with the two for the night. However, it really showed that it was not built for three people to sleep in the small room. A standard sized bed and low cot were in the room, generally enough space for two people to rest, but tricky when a third was added in. Ash suddenly felt as though she was intruding greatly on the man's space. It was Seth who insisted that she or Ian take the bed while he took the cot, it was just for one night, after all.

“I'll go ahead and sleep on the floor, you take the bed,” Ash told her companion, gesturing toward the bed. The look on his face foretold the argument that was about to go down. They stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. A battle between two stubborn survivors. Their focus broken by a harsh sigh from the cot.

“Just share the bed or something. I have to wake up early tomorrow and I'm not staying up all night while you two act like children,” Seth complained.

Embarrassed, Ash flashed him an apologetic smile and looked back to Ian, who shrugged. They stripped off their bulky armor, keeping their weapons nearby, they slipped into the bed, hanging slightly off the sides in a shared effort to give one other space out of respect.

After an hour or so of trying to sleep, Ash opened her eyes to look at her traveling companion. With the little light that came through the window, she could see him quite clearly. It was rare to see him look so relaxed, even at rest like this. The way his dark locks fell into his face tempted her to push them back, but decided not, sighing softly. She'd only known him for a couple months now,and yet she trusted him with her life. He was one of the first people she met when she stepped foot outside of Vault 13, a somewhat friendly face in such a hostile environment.

At this proximity, she could easily make out the creases on his tanned face. The world outside the vault really would age people fast, she noticed. It was something she'd heard in the vault, but she now could see first hand that it was true. Studying his features, the blemishes that peppered the surface of his skin, his dark lashes, Ash's heart ached. The feeling became more intense with every moment they spent together, every fight they won, each time they grew closer.

Her eyes flicked shut as she recalled the shootout in Necropolis. The sulfurous smell of expended bullets hung heavy in the air, as did the smothering heat of the flamer. Standing face to face with the super mutant who threatened to reduce her to her namesake, Ash desperately tried to dodge out of the way. As the flames began to lick toward her body, scorching the surface of her vault suit, she was pushed out of the way, Ian's strong body shielding her against the flames that that jut forth. It gave her just enough time to land a killing shot on the big green bastard. Ian's jacket was ruined, but it protected him against the worst of the burn.

Does it still hurt, she wondered, recalling how he stopped allowing her to care for his wound after it closed. It surely would scar, she told him as much, only for him to shrug in response. It really was different out here. In the vault, scars were strange, tragic, worthy of ridicule, or all three at once. In the wastes, they were part of life. A mark to show that you'd survived. Still, she wondered. Did he regret it? Taking an everlasting mark on his flesh, and all the agonizing pain associated, all for her? What did she even mean to him? Ash fell asleep, knowing she wouldn't have her questions answered. Not now, maybe never.

The walk to Junktown was longer and more quiet than usual. When they camped for the night, watch duty was traded wordlessly. Usually, they'd have some sort of banter, but the thoughts swirling in Ash's mind refused to let up. She had questions, goddammit All these questions and no way to ask. She watched the glowing embers of their small fire as though they could help her understand. Deciding she wouldn't find contentment in the hot, orange glow of fire, she settled on the stars instead. They were something else she'd need to savor while she could, whether she died or returned to the vault, she would never get another chance.

***

Killian Darkwater didn't know anything about the super mutants or where they were coming from. That's what he told the duo at least, and they were inclined to believe him. Outside, Ash swore and stomped her foot on the ground in frustration, scaring Dogmeat, who cowered behind Ian. She sighed.

“This hasn't led us anywhere,” she complained.

“We haven't asked around the Hub yet, so chill the fuck out. Killian doesn't have a lead, so what?”

“Easy for you to say, you're just following me for the money,” she huffed, the heat and disappointment making her irritable. Ian furrowed his brow.

“That's bullshit and you know it, Ash. Do you seriously think I'd risk my ass for you just for the money? I'm not a fucking bodyguard,” he spat.

“I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that you could leave at any time you want. I have to do this.”

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked in earnest, anger quieting down a bit.

“No- I just- Oh, fuck it. Let's just drop this. I don't have it in me to argue right now,” she said, cradling her forehead with a hand. With that, the two walked to the Crash House, deciding to rent a room for the night. Ash wiped the sweat from herself with a damp cloth, then returned to the room, sitting on the other side of the bed from Ian, who was cleaning his gun, making sure all the pieces fit back nicely. 'Take care of your gun and it'll take care of you', he told her when they first started traveling together. She did the same, slower and more clumsily. With the final piece of her weapon clicking into place, she rested it on the nightstand. From behind her, she heard a cough.

“What's going on with you, vaultie? What the hell did I do to piss you off so badly?” Ian asked. His tone was impatient, almost hurt sounding. It startled Ash.

“Mad at you? What gave you that idea?” She turned to him.

“The cold shoulder, blowing up on me like that. Don't tell me that being a dick is a foreign concept in the vaults.”

“Look, I'm just... damn, I'm just.... confused and scared, Ian,” she said, voice low. Ian faced her, eyebrows knitted in a puzzled look.

“What about? Are you keeping me in the dark for any particular reason?”

Ash flushed, unsure of what to say. The truth was stranger than any lie she could come up with, yet she felt wrong about keeping it from him. She cleared her throat, training her hazel eyes on him.

“Where do we stand? I mean, how you think of me?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I,” she paused, letting her mind catch up to her mouth, “I just don't know how you feel about me. Am I a bother? It feels too soon for you to think of me as a friend, but I know that I'm fond of you. You're different from everyone I've ever known in the vault. I can't tell how you think of me. Even if you hated me, I'd at least want to know,” she finished. She gripped her knees, feeling very stupid. It was all irrational, she knew it, but she trusted him to understand her. Her heart sank as he chuckled, which he caught soon after.

“No, no, I'm not laughing at you, I swear. Just- damn, the vault really does something to people, huh?”

She tilted her head, urging him to explain.

“Ash, if I hated you, I wouldn't stick around. You may be bull-headed and chatty, but that's charming when it's not getting us shot at.”

“You think I'm charming?”

He shook his head in exasperation. “If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a committed man at this moment. You're beautiful, generally capable, and seem to get along with my stubborn ass. I find you more than just charming.”

She was taken aback, expecting anything other than this. She looked away shyly, “Oh- Wow. Well, I'll admit, I just don't know what to say.”

He rolled his eyes, “You don't have to say anything. We're not children, Ash. We can drop it, finish what we have to do, and go our separate ways at the end of it all, if that's what you want. But at least now you know where you stand.” As he said his piece, disappointment crept into his voice.

“No! I don't want that, not in the least. I feel the same, it's just... I'm being silly.”

“Yeah, you are, but I'm used to it now. I'm not a mind reader though, so you'll need to tell me what you're thinking.”

She scooted closer, resting her hand on his cheek, leaned in. She stopped halfway, waiting for him to move away or to meet her, the settled for pressing her lips to the corner of his carefully, pulling away slowly.

“Does that tell you anything?” She asked.

“Only that you need to speak up,” he responded, grinning devilishly. At that she captured his mouth with her own, tangling a hand in his long dark hair, and kissed him for real. She used more force, encouraged by the hands that came to grip her waist, she moved her lips against his sloppily. She pulled away for air, feeling drunk on the touch.

“Did you hear me now?” she asked, pupils dilated with desire.

“Loud and clear.”

This time, he leaned in, his touch rougher than hers, and he pushed her to lay back on the bed so that his hands rested on either side of her, legs hanging off the other side of the decrepit mattress. Ash's heartbeat quickened as his lips crept lower, down to her jawline, and neck, all the way to the collar of her suit. A sudden moment of nerves gripped her, pushing the want from her mind. She grabbed his wrist, making him look at her.

“I've never done this, Ian,” she said, gripping his arm as if her were a life preserver.

“You're a virgin, then.”

“That too, but I've never been in a relationship. I'm sorry for that, I just don't know if I'm quite comfortable going any further.” His brows raised in surprise at her words.

“We can stop here then, for now. We'll take this slow.”

“Are you sure? It's not weird?”

“Nah, besides, I'm fucking tired,” he smirked, rolling off to his side of the bed. His hand found hers, and they wove their fingers together. “Those vault boys don't know what they're missing out on.”

Mention of her home made Ash's guts twist with a pang of anxiety, and she let out a shaky breath. There was the obvious thought that they both might not survive their newest mission, but pushing that aside there were still issues that they'd need to overcome.

“What happens now? How do we... make this work?” She asked hesitantly.

“One day at a time, I guess.”

“You wouldn't live in the vault, even if Jacoren let you, you wouldn't be happy there.”

“Heh, that's true. I was hoping you'd stay here, with me, if I'm being entirely honest,” he said, squeezing Ash's hand tightly.

“I don't think I can. My family are in the vault. Everyone I've ever known. I just don't believe I could do that to them.” A moment of silence hung heavy in the air, allowing them to hear snippets of conversation and movement in other rooms.

“Then, what ever happens, we'll face it together,” Ian said.

The future would be uncertain, but, as long as possible, they would face it together. Somehow. That night, there was no respectful distance in the shared bed, only comfort and contentment in one another's arms. The air was cool as moonlight streamed through the dusty window.

[disneydreamlights]

Cendrillon

FFN | AO3

Summary:  Gula's job as a mercenary for hire means he never turns down a job, even if that job is killing the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Vulpes. [GulAva]

A/N: Inspired by this. Originally this was written for the 2019 rarepairs zine but the tight deadlines combined with my busy work and class schedule did not work out, so I had to drop the zine and left this on the back burner for a while. Cue a sudden burst of creative energy this month and some determination and I returned to this fic to finally finish it almost a year later. 

Gula pulled down on the mask once more, giving it a firm tug to make sure his face couldn’t be seen underneath the leopard styled mask. The masquerade ball tonight was important after all, Lady Ava of the Vulpes kingdom was going to be making her grand debut, and it would be best to make a good impression.

Or at least, that would be what most would be thinking as they prepared for tonight, but as Gula straightened out the tie on his golden yellow suit, he had a lot more pressing matters to be thinking about. The knife, hidden in his socks felt cold, just one of many hidden, but hired killers had to be prepared. It really was nothing against his mark, she probably was a fine girl, but this was his job.

“Name?” Gula smiled as the guard looked at him with no more scrutiny than any of the stuffy royals that had entered into ballroom that night. 

“Ventus, of the Kingdom of Leopardus.” The guard nodded, likely assuming he was simply a lower noble. Which was fair, royalty in Leopardus changed often enough that even in the kingdom of its closest allies, it was difficult to keep track. As he officially entered the ballroom, he couldn’t help but reflect on how that had been a part of why he had been brought into the ball in the first place.

The man had entered Gula’s home about two weeks ago, shortly after Gula had returned home from his last mission. He was dressed in a black cloak, with his face fully hidden in its shadows. “Why hello there, it took you long enough to get here.”

“How did you get into my house? What do you want?”

“Easy there Tiger, I’m not here to make any enemies. I just need a favor, heard that you’re willing to do any jobs, legal or illegal, if the pay is high enough.”

“Most of my clients don’t stop by my home.”

“Yeah, well mine is a special task.”

Gula had raised an eyebrow at that. “What did you have in mind.”

A bag was placed on his desk, holding what looked like well over a few hundred thousand munny after a quick investigation of its contents.

“I need you to kill the crown princess of Vulpes, Lady Ava.”

The plan was most definitely simple enough. Sneak into the ball in her honor, find her, stab her, get out. Leave the leopard mask behind to implicate Leopardus. War would allow for whatever his name (X? He was pretty sure that was some part of the name given) to take over the kingdom, reinstate peace. Murder admittedly was not one of Gula’s usual tasks, but money talked, and true to the meaning of his name, he was never satisfied with what he had. Not to mention, there was so much wrong with the nobility anyways, even if an innocent had to die, a new ruler might mean a new chance to fix the world, he couldn’t complain about that. He wandered the floor aimlessly, enjoying the party for what it was, listening in on the conversations of the various nobles and sneaking some of the food while he waited for the princess’s presentation.

“Why aren’t you talking with the rest of the guests?” A girl’s voice rang caught his attention, as a young girl around his age stood in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. He took in any details about her he could. If he got caught and needed to clear up the loose ends, he would need to remember any details. She had pink hair, and a fox’s mask covering almost as much of her face as his own leopard mask.

“I’m not one for small talk, it doesn’t really have much point.” And it was true, small talk was hard to maintain, and he had no interest in learning about any of the nobles who would be out for his blood before the clock struck midnight.

The girl gave him a confused look. “If you don’t like small talk, then why are you at the party?”

“I like to dance.” It was the first excuse he could come up with, but she seemed amused by the way her mouth threatened to turn into a smile. This was bad, he didn't want to be remembered here. “I understand social niceties, even if they aren’t my favorite thing,” he added on afterwards, hoping she’d buy it.

She did, seeing as she nodded. “Who are you anyways, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lord with blond hair as messy as yours.” She poked at one of the many spikes coming from his head, it was one of the few things of his natural appearance he’d retained. 

“Ventus.” Gula used the same fake name he’d used for the guard earlier. Best to keep it simple.

“My name’s…” The girl hesitated for a moment, as though holding the knowledge of her name close to her. For the first time, he was actually intrigued by her. Why was this girl holding back her name? Was it possible that she, too, was an uninvited guest to the party.

“Fox.” He supplied the name for her, surprising himself. “You wear a fox mask, if you want to avoid using your name at the ball, why not go by the name of the animal you’re wearing a mask of.”

She nodded, her face brightening. “Fox is good!” She paused for a moment, almost as though she was unsure of what to talk about with him. For a moment, Gula was almost sure she had the intention to find the next sulking partygoer, but she seemed to stay quiet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Fox, but I can’t stay and talk for--”

“Wait.” Gula stopped, letting the girl talk. “Could I have just one dance?” He was about to answer no, but she continued. “You did say that dancing was the main reason you came, don’t you want to?”

He could tell her no, but placating the girl would better serve his interests better. It would be better if she remembered the unknown lord as a good person, rather than poorly. Then he wouldn’t have to take out any more people than necessary. Fox had been nice enough anyways to him.

“I suppose one dance won’t take too much time out of my night.” And before he knew it, he was pulled out of his corner by Fox, who seemed to take a natural lead as she put her hand on his shoulder, clasping one of his with her second. He settled for a hand on her waist, sharing the dance floor as he chose to let the girl lead. She moved swiftly and gracefully, but she was a noble. It wasn’t a surprise that she knew how to dance. The two fell into a natural silence, following the rhythm of the music, following through each step.

“You know, for a self proclaimed dance lover, I’m surprised you’re letting me lead.” A small smile formed on Fox’s face as she teased him. 

“You’re the noble, I’m just the party crasher who likes a good waltz. Leading’s in your job description.” It was true enough. Besides, he’d rather not risk leading her in the dance on the off chance she saw through his flimsy lie. The fact that she’d bought it so far was a surprise enough. “It gives me a chance to see if you’d be a better one than all the others here so far.”

“Not a fan of the current ruling party?” Fox turned a corner, pulling him with her and keeping them moving in the same pattern as earlier. “I can’t say I blame you, I know a lot of the commoners aren’t very fond of us either.” 

For a moment, Gula couldn’t help but wonder if there was something different about Fox than the rest of the nobility she was a part of. The frown she wore on her face seemed genuinely upset at the thought of not being loved by the people she ruled over, but he dismissed it. Nobility didn't care for everybody else. That’s why he needed to take jobs like this in the first place. “I don’t care for them, no. Life in Leopardus isn’t easy, but I’ve heard life in Vulpes is worse.” 

“Maybe Lady Ava will change that?” Fox spoke in a small voice. 

“Maybe.” Maybe she could’ve, but she wouldn’t get that chance for sure. He raised his arm, allowing Fox underneath it while she spun. “But nobody knows what she’s like. Perhaps she asked for her grand debut to be something as glamorous as this ball, and she’s worse than both her parents.”

Fox’s face scrunched up in disgust at that thought. Despite being a look of disgust, Gula couldn’t help but find it cute in a way. “It’s a terrible way to make a public appearance. All it does it make a show, like some display of power. I can’t imagine anyone liking it.”

“Not a fan of balls I take it?” Gula asked. 

“I’d like them more if they were events for fun for everybody. A party only allowing nobility...like I said, it doesn’t do anybody good.” She shook her head. “I know the commoners don’t like this ball at all. My friend, Ephemer, he said--” She stopped herself the moment she realized the song ended. “I’m sorry, I asked you for a dance and instead I spent the whole song rambling to you about why I don’t even like the ball.”

If Gula was honest, he hadn’t minded the Fox’s rambling. In general, she seemed to dislike the way other nobles ran things. Perhaps he could negotiate with his boss for her to get a higher up position after the fallout, have her help make change. “Ramble away, your opinion is a breath of fresh air compared to most of the others I’ll hear tonight.”

“Oh?” She looked at him, surprised. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not the biggest fan of balls either.” And he wasn’t. “Truth be told, it wasn’t even my choice to come here.” She’d been honest with him, a random stranger at a ball. And she at least seemed to give half a mind about commoners. He owed her a small part of the truth.

“But you said you liked dancing.” She tilted her head, though somehow he got the feeling that it was just for show than not knowing as though urging him to continue. “So if it wasn’t dancing that brought you, what did?”

Gula released her hand for a moment as they continued their dance, and put his finger to his lips. “I’m not allowed to say. That’s going to stay a secret.”

“Hey! I won’t tell!” Fox protested, and the serious girl who’d shared her political views on all of this snobbery was gone. “There’s no reason I can’t know.”

He chuckled, finding her energy endearing. “It’s not a secret if you include somebody else in on it.” Besides, it was better that she didn't know. Forgetting that she would become a liability, it’d put her in real danger. She’d be a conspirator, and somebody like her being involved in a murder plot wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Sure it is. That’s what makes it a secret, when it’s shared between two friends.” Mentally, Gula cursed. He hadn’t wanted to make a friend. He hadn’t wanted to be seen. Somehow, this girl had managed to throw a wrench into all of his plans. She’d be able to point them to Lady Ava’s killer in an instant.

Somehow, none of it bothered him.

“You’ll know before the night is done, don’t worry.” He pet her on the head, watching her pout. “In the meantime, maybe I could learn more about you.” He was searching for any conversation topic. “I have until midnight before I can complete my task, and I’m sure you’ve got a lot of interesting things to say.” 

And so they talked, and in spite of himself, he found himself listening to her every word attentively. About her stubborn and overprotective mother, her overbearing father with no sense of what the world needed, her best friend Ephemer who was a commoner she had befriended while sneaking away unnoticed, who told her all about the world and how hard things were. And in turn, he shared with her what he could about himself. About his older brother Aced and how they didn't talk much anymore since Aced didn't approve of his job (not that he said what that job was), how Aced’s husband would check up on him, make sure he was doing okay, and he even threw in a few tales of his more noble deeds. 

A small voice in his head whispered that Fox was a liability, that she was learning too much about him, but he didn't care. She was by far one of the most genuine nobles he’d ever met, and as they continued to share dance after dance, he couldn’t bring himself to regret this friendship they’d struck up.

“Ventus, do you think we could leave the floor for a bit?” Fox smiled. And for the first time, Gula noticed how tired she looked. They had been dancing for a while.

“Of course, my lady.” The words left his mouth as a part of the character he was playing, but he still couldn’t help but wince at how they sounded. She didn’t seem to mind as she led him out to the balcony, away from the dancing party. In the distance, he could see a clocktower, proclaiming the time as 11:30. A half hour until the mysterious princess would reveal herself, and Gula could finally take out his target.

At first, they sat in silence before Fox walked over to the edge, looking down at the plaza below as she leaned on the railing. “You know, I didn’t think I’d have any fun at tonight’s party.” He was surprised at her honesty, but then again, he shouldn’t have been. The whole night Fox had been nothing but open with him. 

“So why did you come?” As much as it turned out he definitely didn’t hate her, he still wished she hadn’t. He still berated himself for letting himself be so clearly recognizable to her. He walked next to her by the railing. “You could’ve been off, sneaking around with...Ephemera?”

“Ephemer,” Fox corrected him before turning to face him. “I would’ve skipped it if I had a choice, but I’m obligated to be here.” Gula remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. She chose not to. “I’m glad I got to meet you, if nothing else, it means I get to have at least one more friend.” She reached her hand out tentatively, resting it on his.

He looked at Fox, noticing her smile. “I can’t say I hear that often, but I’m glad we met too.” And it was the truth. There would be problems, but it was nothing he couldn’t try to smooth over with his boss later. They fell into a companionable silence, just enjoying being in the other’s presence.

Finally, Gula spoke once more as the minute hand slowly got closer to the nine. 11:45. He needed to get into position. “Fox I–”

A small gasp sounded from behind them, causing both Gula and Fox to separate. “There you are Lady Ava! Your father’s looking for you!”

Lady Ava!?

If it wasn’t for the fact that the servant had come in, Gula would’ve uttered every curse he could think of. What did she mean Lady Ava? That...no, that could not be right. Ava was his target. And if Fox was Ava…

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Fox...Ava? gave the servant girl a small smile and watched as she left before sighing. “I guess this means our night has come to an end.”

“You’re Lady Ava.” Gula could only repeat those words emptily, as though changing them would somehow allow him to change the fate he would be forced to give her. As though she could go back to being Fox. The worst part was, this was perfect. Ava was his target. Ava was right here. He could complete the crime, leave no loose ends, and nobody would even know. It might not be as showy as his client wanted, but it would do. Ava would be dead and it might stir up more talk about the quiet assassin who managed to kill the princess without anybody having seen her.

But she was also Fox. The girl who had approached him because she’d thought he was lonely and ended up deciding to bug him enough to show him a small piece of her life, and got him to open up about his in return. She was a noble who he was so sure would bring about change in the world, and he was going to have to be the one to end her life. End the spark before it could even begin.

“Ventus?” Evidently Ava had been talking to him while he’d been lost in thought trying to comprehend what that meant. “Ventus!”

Gula shook himself from his thoughts and looked at Ava, still trying to figure out what he was going to do about all this. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was apologizing.” After a moment of silence, she added, “For lying to you about who I was. I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just there’s so many expectations on me tonight. I’m sure you know why this ball is being held, and you know my distaste for it.” She stopped. “I just wanted to have a normal night before my anonymity is permanently ruined.”

“It’s alright.” It wasn’t alright. He now had an attachment to his target. It was unprofessional and embarrassing. Murder may not have been his field of choice, but that doesn’t make the fact that it happened any less of a problem. But he didn’t want to make any of this worse. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Ava gave him a smile, a genuine one, and he felt his heart skip a beat. “It was nice meeting you, Ventus. I had a wonderful night with you. I know you’re not really here as an invited guest, but I hope I’ll get to see you again anyways.”

Had this been anybody else, Gula would have let her walk out the door and back into her dance. He would’ve gotten into position and waited for her to be presented, and then taken her down and escaped. But this wasn’t anybody else, and in that moment, the conflict he was experiencing came to a resolution. “Gula.”

She paused at the door and turned back to look at Gula. “What?”

“My real name,” he said, “it’s not Ventus. It’s Gula.” Ava turned around and closed the door back into the ballroom, which he took as a sign to continue. “I’m not who I said I was, Fox.”

Rather than flee, Ava walked back over to him and sat on the railing. “I have ten minutes before my father starts the ceremony.” She was willing to hear him out.

He could possibly save her.

“I mentioned my brother doesn’t normally approve of my job. That’s because I don’t just do odds and ends jobs that I can find. I’m a mercenary.” Once the words left his mouth, it wasn’t long before Gula told her everything about tonight. How he’d been hired by somebody to kill her, how at midnight, when she was presented, he was to do his job. She remained silent throughout, wanting to hear him out on what he said.

“I don’t want to kill you, Lady Ava. I’ve enjoyed the night we’ve shared, and I think you might be what this kingdom needs to finally start getting things right. To fix this broken world.” And he did, he believed in Ava as hard as it was to say.

“So don’t. You don’t have to do anything.” He couldn’t say he was surprised. Ava may have had a friend or two, but her lifestyle had been horribly sheltered. It was unlikely that she would understand the choice in front of him. “You may have been hired to kill me, but you can refuse the job.”

“It’s not that simple.” So long as his client knew about him and his brother, so long as Ava breathed, he wouldn’t be safe. “If you’re still able to take the throne come the end of the night, then my client will know I failed. It would cause problems.” Problems he couldn’t afford. Problems Aced couldn’t afford.

“There’s always a third choice Gula, one that doesn’t result in death.” Well he could always kill the person who hired him, but somehow, that option didn’t seem like one Ava would approve of. 

As Gula went to respond, the clocktower’s bell went off, ringing one drawn out bell at a time. They had run out of time. “It’s midnight.”

Ava nodded. The two looked at each other, unable to look away for fear that if they did, then Gula would make the decision to kill Ava. 

“...What if the world thinks I’m dead?” Ava spoke so quietly, it was almost impossible for Gula to hear what she had said at first. But the moment he realized it, he couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on his face. 

“It’s perfect.” If the world thought Ava was dead, then that fulfilled his contract. It would be more difficult for her to change the world if she was no longer the crown princess of Vulpes, but it would save her life. 

But it would also end everything about her life as it is now. Lady Ava of Vulpes would be dead to all but himself. “If we do this, you can’t go back. The world has to think you’re dead.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft as she acknowledged what he said. “But I don’t want you to be in danger either.” She took off her mask and looked up at him. Able to see her whole face, he looked her over for any hint that she wasn’t sincere. That she was lying just for the sake of her own life. Instead he found nothing but sadness for what she would be losing, and determination to save them both.

Gula smiled. “Then let’s get started.”

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

SO, Deciet’s real name is Janus, so I changed his human character’s name to Janus. I’m not changing it in any earlier chapters. But it’ll be Janus from here on out. Chapter twelve it is.

Chapter Twelve: Hell to Your Doorstep from The Count of Monte Cristo musical

               Virgil ran his finger across the edge of the photograph he had stolen from Patton’s scrap book. He had been clinging to it for days now. It was the first image he had ever seen of his parents together. And there was such an uncanny feeling to finally seeing his mother.

               She didn’t look like someone who would walk out on her kid. Not that he really blamed her for it, Payton was probably one of those guys who threatened to kill themselves to get what they want. And she was most likely leaving him with his grandmother rather than his dad. And she was only like twenty, maybe twenty-one. Probably old enough to drink, no one would have sex with Payton sober. Hardly the image of good decision making.

               No, he wasn’t mad at past mom. It was present mom who had hurt him. It was present mom who didn’t want him. Present mom who had moved on and didn’t have room for anymore baggage. Any room for him.

               Payton had often told people that she rejected the idea of starting a family with him, it was a good sympathy play that cast him as the victim. She seduced him and left him with the baby. Another great victim claim. And of course, the pseudo rape story that had started most of this. Payton finally bit off more than he could chew with a lie that could be so easily disproved.

               Despite Payton’s lies to other people, Virgil had always heard the same story. His mom left because she didn’t want him. He never would have guessed that, that was the true story.

               “Blue skidoo we can too!” Dr. Picani sang as he popped into the room. “How are you today Virgil?”

               “I’m doing good.” Virgil quickly pocketed his picture. “I haven’t had to take too many Valium.”

               “That’s good. But you are taking the Prozac daily right?”

               “Yes, Logan is super on top of that.”

               “Good. And I heard that you’re spending time at the library while Patton’s working.”

               “Yeah, it’s a pretty chill place.”

               “Oh, I thought it would be warmer, it is summer after all.” Picani grinned.

               “Patton told that same joke.” Virgil smiled.

               “So, your anxiety is calming down. How about the nightmares, you still having those?”

               “Yeah.” Virgil looked away.

               “Has the bed wetting gotten any better?”

               “There were a couple more since our last session. Uncle Logan suggested I stop drinking after nine, and that helped a bit.”

               “Ok, that’s good. And it’s awesome that your uncles are trying to help you through this.”

               “Yeah.”

               “Have you talked to either of them about, well, Payton?”

               “I told Uncle Logan a few things.”

               “Do you feel ready to talk about them here?”

               “I can try, that way if I wuss out of going to court there’s still a record of it.”

               “Hang on, let’s get into the way back machine and start at the beginning of that statement.”

               “I want to testify against my dad. I’m done being afraid of him. And I want him to know that I know he’s just a mere mortal. Just like the rest of us.”

               “That’s pretty intense. Are you sure about this?”

               “I am. I’ve given it a lot of thought.” Virgil hardened his resolve.

               “Ok. Confronting your abuser is a massive step. And it’s one that a lot of people struggle with, even adults. So, I want you to be one million percent sure of this. Ok?”

               “I am.”

               “Ok, and if you change your mind, you can.”

               “Cool.”

               “So, if we are gonna talk about Payton, I want to try a different technique with you. It’s all in the technique.”

               “What are we gonna do? You gonna pull out one of those ‘show me where he touched you’ dolls?”

               “No, but those are extremely successful, don’t diss them.” Picani replied. “I want you to tell me about your dad, but I want you to tell the story backwards.”

               “Is this from a cartoon?” Virgil squinted.

               “No, it’s from a journal of psychology.” Picani sat up straighter. “And also, the backwards messages from Gravity Falls.”

               “That reminds me.” Virgil interrupted. “Where can I get Teen Titans, I can’t find any episodes on YouTube.”

               “I recommend the DVDs you can get bonus features.” Picani answered gleefully, before becoming a shrink again. “So, what do you think? Ya, think you can talk about Payton backwards?”

               “I’ll try.” Virgil hesitated. “Which story do you want to hear?”

               “You decide, it’s your hour.”

               “I’ll go recent.” Virgil sighed and thought hard. “So, when I looked at the bruise later there was a full-fledged belt mark. As always, I went to school bruises and all. It was at that point that he started hitting me. Sick of his bullshit, I told him to stop harassing me over something that wasn’t my fault. As he does, Payton mocked and yelled at me for wetting the bed like a toddler, saying if I keep this up, he is just going to order a crib for me. Payton came in and asked why I was screaming. I woke up screaming and noticed that the sheets were wet. It was April, and I had a debate meeting coming up and a chess tournament and all of my teachers were on me to talk to my dad about my grades, so when I finally did get to sleep, I had nightmares.”

               Virgil paused the memory didn’t seem so terrifying now. What black magic…?  

               “How ya feelin’” Picani asked curiously.

               “Ok.” Virgil responded, surprised. “What happened?”

               “Well, the idea is to be able to recall what happened backwards so that you can see the memory but not the fear associated with the moment. I think it’s using just your left brain, and then you can see the even without feeling that crushing weight. Like you get to know that it wasn’t the end of the world, process it and be able to move on. Cool, Huh?”

               “Very.” Virgil smiled.

               “And it’s not so bad seeing a thing in reverse. It’s almost kind of funny.”

               “Sure, if you watch a horror movie backwards it ends up being about a monster who brings people back to life.”

               “Exactly.”

               “How are you going to decipher what I’m actually saying?”

               “I’m recording our session so I can work it out later.”

               “Cool.” Virgil nodded. “Aren’t tape recordings not admissible though?”

               “The recording is just for me we’re not taking it into court.”

               “Ok.” Virgil looked at the ground. “What can we do if Payton accuses my uncles of abusing me?”

               “Well, unless your dad has proof it’s just going to be an accusation.”

               “Yeah, but then the accusation is still going to be there. And just that could ruin them. I don’t want that to happen.”

               “Virgil, are you worried that he’s going to claim that they have been molesting you?”

               “Yes. He’s literally the devil. He would totally do that. What can I do to counter that?”

               “I’ll call my friend Joan, they’re with the police, and they can probably help me get a few things together. Ok?”

               “Like what?”

               “We have screening tests to see if a person is, well, sick in that way, that we use mostly for cases like this.”

               “Ok.” Virgil looked at his skeptically.

               “And.” He hesitated. “Well, since you brought it up… they haven’t done anything like that have they?”

               “No.” Virgil went with the response that could never be taken out of context. “They have not at any point in time touched me in any inappropriate manner or tried to commit any sexual acts with me. It has never happened, and I am completely certain that it never will.”

               Virgil smiled at Picani after he finished talking.

               “Virgil, do you watch a lot of court room dramas?” Picani asked, giving him a side eye.

               “I’ve been watching a lot of reddit threads about custody battles.” Virgil looked at the floor, ashamed. “I’m scared.”

               “That’s perfectly normal.” Picani soothed. “You don’t want to go back to Payton, and you don’t want anything to happen to your uncles, am I right?”

               “Yeah, that’s about it.”

               “Well, we’re all going to try to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

               “Ok.” Virgil stared at him through his bangs.

               “We still have some time do you want to keep talking?”

               “I guess.”

               “Ok, and afterwards, can you send your uncles in?”

               “Sure.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               “I already had Patton take that screening as a part of his background test.” Thomas said from Emile’s monitor. “Logan too. They’re clean, at least as far as we can prove.”

               “Well, at least there’s that.” Emile responded. “Virgil’s pretty worried. And I think he has a good reason to be.”

               “We have a solid case, and at least three reasons for Payton to lose custody.” Janus added from his portion of the screen. “Four if we can charge him with neglect.”

               “Ok, Jan. We don’t have to wail on him.” Thomas scolded.

               “Maybe you don’t.” Janus rolled his good eye. “And I told you not to call me jan.”

               “Look, Virgil expressed a concern about this, and I want to be able to prove that we are doing something.” Emile interrupted, not wanting an argument. “I want him to see that he can trust people.”

               “I get that.” Thomas sighed. “The system messed him over just about as much as his dad did. Well, I covered all the bases. I’m not about to release a teenager into the custody of potential pedophiles.”

               “And we should get the results of Payton’s psych evaluation from the prison soon.” Janus added smoothly. “His bail hearing didn’t go as well as he would have wanted.”

               “He’s still locked up?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

               “He doesn’t have anywhere to go.” Emile added. “He burned his house down, and he can’t stay with Patton because he’s not allowed to go near Virgil.”

               “That’s pretty much it. That and they were worried he may try to retaliate against his brother.”

               “How has no one helped this kid sooner?” Thomas said, his face buried in his hands.

               “I know.” Emile sighed. “I hate working with older kids. It hurts to think that they had to suffer for that long.”

               “We’re doing all we can.” Janus sighed, rubbing his temples. “And we’re helping him now. You can’t keep driving yourself crazy every time you get assigned to an older kid. I’m sorry, but we can’t save everyone.”

               “Ok, I have another session soon.” Emile looked at the clock in the computer. “I just wanted to see if everything was kosher.”

               “It is. Unfortunately for Payton, this isn’t our first time doing this.” Janus smiled.

               “Yeah, he’s really screwed himself.” Thomas added. “It’s gonna be a fireworks display.”

               “Ok. Keep me updated.”

               “We will.” Janus nodded. “I wonder if I can prove neglect.”

               Janus Pent or surprisingly cruel attorney logged off.

               “Damn, he’s vindictive.” Thomas sighed.

               “He’s a bit of a Bismuth, but he means well.”

               “Yeah, I guess we all have to cope with this somehow.”

               “You still good for our session on Thursday?”

               “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

               “Ok, bye.”

               “Peace out.”

               Thomas logged off.

               Emile closed his laptop. Thomas was a Steven all the way. He wanted to help, and usually he spread himself too thin trying to help everyone. And he’d beat himself up way too much over the ones he couldn’t help. But he was doing ok, therapy helped him. Mostly, it showed him that he needed to help himself as well.

               Janus or Pent or E.S as his plaque read, (they somehow misheard his name), or whatever he wanted to be called, was very different. He was a Bismuth. Passionate, skilled but very vindictive. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just very empathetic towards the victims he represented and wanted to hurt their abusers right back. That wasn’t bad, in fact it was very normal. But it definitely needed to be kept in check.  

               Emile traced a circle around one of his cardigan buttons. He liked to think of himself as a Steven as well or maybe an Amethyst. After all, he went into medicine to help people. And as many people as he could. Sure, no one thought he was cut out for it. He always knew that. No one was more aware than Emile that he didn’t cast the most intelligent looking silhouette. And yes, he talked about cartoons a lot. But it worked.

               He had a decent success rate. And being a goofy goober made people open up to him. If he walked into a session with a fake persona then his patients would put their walls up too.

               “If I had been Mr. Stoic, Virgil would have never talked to me.” Emile said to himself. “None of the kids would have. Heck, most of the couples might not have.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               “Ok, we’ll be home in an hour, maybe more.” Patton said as he hugged Virgil. “Stay safe and be good for Roman.”

               “Uncle Patton, I’m thirteen.” Virgil sighed, hugging him back.

               “We shouldn’t be too long.” Logan sighed, patting Virgil on the head. “I’m giving Payton half an hour to threaten us, and the lawyers half an hour to negotiate. I’m hoping I can have them talk while Payton threatens us. It’ll save time.”

               “I’m sorry I got you into this.” Virgil buried his face in Patton’s shoulder.

               “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Patton kissed him on the head.

               “We’re almost out of this. The metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.”

               “By the by.” Roman added, he was leaning against the wall casually. “Remus and I talked on the phone last week, he said if we need a diversion so we can run away with Virgil, he’s down for it. Said, he’s been practicing.”

               “We’re not using Remus as a distraction.” Patton said officially. “It’s not fair to exploit his, whatever is wrong with him. We’re doing this legally.”

               “Are we sure Remus is real?” Virgil asked. “I don’t wanna think that there’s someone that screwed up in the world.”

               “Payton is worse, he exists.” Roman countered. “Remus isn’t a bad person, he’s just insane.”

“We’re not talking about Payton right now.” Patton waved away the idea.

               “We should get going, I’d like to be early.” Logan squeezed Patton’s shoulder.

               “Ok.” He smiled up at him and turned back to Virgil. “I just want you to know that we love you and we’re proud of you. And everything’s gonna be ok.”

               Patton gave him one last kiss and left with Logan. They entered the car silently. Patton drove to keep his mind off things. As they left the driveway, he heard the rhythmic sounds of Logan slamming his hand on the car door.

               “Logan, honey, are you alright?” Patton glanced over to him.

               “I’m a bit nervous.” Logan answered flatly, still drumming his hand. “There’s a lot of feelings going around. I’m surprisingly susceptible to that.”

               “Do you wanna clap?”

               “Absolutely not.”

               “You can, I don’t mind.”

               “I’m okay with hitting the door.”

               “Do you wanna talk?” Patton reached over and took Logan’s free hand. “Is all the abuse talk making you uncomfortable?”

               “No, I think it’s just the stress of having a child.” Logan sighed. “It’s an adjustment, but I can handle it.”

               “You’re doing great. Virgil had so much fun playing chess with you last week, I think he’s really taken to you.”

               “You’re doing an excellent job as well.” Logan squeezed his hand. “I think Virgil’s almost used to having a loving role model in his life. And he certainly likes you.”

               “That’s good.” Patton smiled. “I know it’s only been about a month, but I can’t imagine life without our dark, strange son.”

               “Me neither.” Logan looked at the floor to hide his smile. “And we won’t have to. I have every right to be confident.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               The prison looked exactly like, well a prison. The five of them had been given a room to meet privately, rather than try to use the phone things.

               Payton stared at the three of them coldly while his lawyer looked on, the effigy of stoicism. Patton anxiously pulled at his fingers and Janus, as they found out was his actual name, looked on at their opponents unfazed. And Logan, Logan met Payton’s gaze with total eye contact. He could stare until his head hurt, but he would have to do a lot more than glare to get Logan to back down.

               “So, I arranged this meeting to see if we could avoid going to court altogether.” Janus began. “Do you think you three could come to an agreement?”

               “I’m willing to offer supervised visitation rights.” Patton said looking at the table.

               “Oh, do I have your permission to see my son?” Payton sneered. “How generous, will you let me write him a letter if I’m a good boy?”

               “Payton, this isn’t funny.” Patton didn’t look up.

               “I’m not laughing. First you ruin my campaign and call me a liar, you get me investigated by my old law firm and now you’re here telling me that I can only see my own son on your terms. Do you realize that I haven’t seen him since the fire?”

               “Payton, it is not our fault that you’re losing custody of Virgil.” Logan argued. “We are just trying to do what’s best for him.”

               “Do you think our terms are fair?” Janus asked the other lawyer.

               “No,” The lawyer answered. “My client wishes to maintain full custody of his son.”

               “He’s going to prison.” Patton looked up. “He can’t keep custody.”

               “That is not a part of this case.” The lawyer retorted.

               “This is ridiculous.” Logan sighed. “If you lose, we get custody of Virgil, if you somehow win, you are still facing jail time for a long enough period to lose custody anyway. Why are you doing this?”

               “I don’t want my son being raised by you two.” Payton said, mimicking a normal tone. “I don’t trust you to provide for him, so I’d prefer if he went somewhere else, should I not be there for him.”

               Logan looked on in shock. Payton actually thought that he could beat the arson case, he even thought he could get custody of Virgil. He didn’t see any reason that he was in the wrong. He had absolutely no clue that his actions were reprehensible. How? How could he see this as acceptable?

               “Payton, do you realize what you did to Virgil was wrong?” Logan asked.

               “Well, you’re sticking to your story.” Payton scoffed. “So, I’ll say it again. I have never harmed my son. I don’t know if it was him that started that horrid lie, or if you and Patton decided that it was the best way to get a kid, but it is still a vicious lie.”

               They way Payton’s eyes lit up as he lied was horrifying. They glowed with a cruel light that said, ‘I’ve beaten you’ and he believed that he had won. He was thrilled with the prospect of dragging this out. Patton looked back at the table. Logan didn’t break eye contact.

               “We are willing to offer you supervised visitation. Virgil is going to need someone to drive him out to see you anyway.” Logan repeated Patton’s original offer.

               “We sure are going through a lot just so you can pretend to stand up to your parents.” Payton smiled at him the freak might as well have had fangs. “I will not bow to these allegations, taking any deals would be like admitting that I have abused my son. I’m not going to stand up and say that you two are fit parents while I’m not. No deal.”

               “Well,” Janus stood up. “It looks like we can’t agree on anything. I’ll see you both in court.”

               The three of them walked out into the hallway and watched as a guard took Payton back to his cell.

               “That was suboptimal.” Logan sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s nothing more than I expected.”

               “I’ll make sure to get us in with a judge that isn’t a moron.” Janus added angrily. “If Payton thinks he has a case, he can kiss my ass.”

               “Are you sure he doesn’t have a case that can beat ours?” Patton looked up from the floor.

               “Doctors say that Virgil has been abused, Virgil says that his dad hit him, police say that Payton is going to jail for felony child endangerment and arson. And there’s all the shit he did while he was practicing law. He’s losing custody, in fact I hope he wins this case, so he can lose custody again when he goes to jail.”

               “I’m worried.” Patton grabbed Logan’s hand.

               “We’re going to be ok.” Logan squeezed Patton’s hand in return. “Everything’s gonna be ok.”

               “Well, now Payton doesn’t even get supervised visits.” Janus chimed in, trying to be funny. “Trust me, this is going to be one of the easiest child removal cases in history. Payton shot himself in the foot.”

               “Payton didn’t shoot anything he doesn’t own a gun.” Logan squinted at Janus

               “It’s a metaphor honey.” Patton rested his chin on Logan’s shoulder.

               “Right.” Logan looked at the floor.

               “Well, I’m sorry I wasted your time.” Janus sighed. “You two go home and relax. Rest assured that I know what I’m doing.”

               “Sure.” Patton sighed. “When do you think the rape allegations will show up?”

               “Probably in court, but Payton is already a known liar.” Janus smiled. “He’s not going to get very far with that.”

               “Ok.” Logan nodded. “Thanks.”

               “I guess we can call you ‘No prob Bob’.” Patton smiled.

               “No, you can’t.”

[shotsbyshae]

Rock & Roll (Part 2)

Warnings: Vomit inducing fluff, angst

Words: 2.9k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

A/N: Takes place post Endgame, so spoilers. For those who have age issues, Peter is over 18 in this scenario.

Song: Rock & Roll by Led Zeppelin

It's been a long time, been a long time.

2025

The room looks familiar, but absent of all the personal touches your old one used to have. There are a couple boxes stacked near the dresser with your name written in permanent marker on the side. They were some of the things you had left in Tony’s garage, Happy had come across the boxes and offered to bring over for you. You’re not ready to open them yet though, so you slowly unpack the few clothes you do have, mentally making a note to add a shopping trip to your list of things to do in the upcoming weeks. Hotel living for the past two years had meant only the basics when it came to clothing.

Once you finish putting away everything you brought, you turn to look at the boxes once more, trying to muster up the courage. Your brain wants you to unpack the ugly brown cardboard eyesores, but you’re not sure what’s in them, after all, you stayed over at the Stark’s more than you did the compound after the snap.  

You make your way into the kitchen, placing your phone on the counter, as you notice the far wall has a large board with a collage of various small photos pinned to it. It’s an addition you hadn’t seen on your first walk through, so you approach it and immediately see a photo of Steve and Bucky, both in stealth suits, wide toothy grins on their faces. Beside it is a photo of Natasha, she’s wearing boxing gloves and Clint’s in the background, waiting on the sparring mat. Another photo is of Wanda and Vision standing in the kitchen, the messy counter in front of them makes it apparent they were attempting to cook something. There’s also a photo of Tony, Steve, and Thor, all three laughing heartily about something in the common area of the compound. Another photo is of the entire team before the fallout, a much happier time and everyone’s faces show it.

Two pictures catch your attention, one you recognize, because you have a copy tucked away in your journal, and one you don’t remember. The one you have is from the lab, you’re standing beside the table and Tony has one arm draped across your shoulders and he’s kissing your temple. You’re not looking at the camera – eyes closed – caught in the moment. Parker had taken that photo; you remember Tony giving you a copy of it. The other picture is of you and Peter, both of you baby faced, and he’s holding the camera out to fit both you in the frame. The background doesn’t look familiar, but he’s sitting in the floor in front of a bed that you’re lying on. Both your smiling faces are side by side, although each is a little bruised and dirty.

“Done unpacking?” A voice draws your attention away from the board and you glance over to see Peter approaching.

You nod with a smile, “Yea – hey – where’s this from?” You point to the photo in question.

He moves closer to get a better look and laughs a little, “Oh wow – yea – that was Berlin.”

The memories slowly start to come back as you glance over at the photo.

“You’re done, take Parker back to the hotel,” the metal fingers are wrapped around your wrist tightly. “Wait for me there, understood?”

“Yes sir,” your response was automatic as he glared down at you.

“You did good kid,” his eyes had softened slightly as he released his grip. “Now go – hurry.”

You had quickly made your way across the lot to the kid in the red and blue suit who was still lying on the ground. He managed to prop up on one elbow as you got closer and you offered him a hand, “You must be Parker.”

“Peter – yea – P-Parker,” he stammered a little as he took your hand and you pulled him to his feet.

“I’m –” you tried to say as he fidgeted with the red mask in his hands.

“I know,” he interrupted you quickly and raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “You’re – wow – I mean – you’re awesome.”

“I saw you web up Captain America. I’ve never seen anyone slow him down,” you had remarked with a smile. “That’s pretty impressive Spider-Man.”

“That was after the fight?” You question Peter and he nods as you remember slowly. “Back at the hotel – that’s right.”

“We ordered so much room service we thought Happy was going to kill us,” he remarks. “That was so long ago.”

“Look at us – we were just kids,” you touch the photo gingerly.

“It was fun though,” Peter glances over to you, still seeing the same girl he’s had a crush on since that day in Berlin. I’ve missed you, he thinks to himself. “Hanging out with you was always fun though.”

You smirk as you glance up at him, still trying to get over the size difference, “Just because I was older, and it impressed your friends.”

“No,” he begins defensively crossing his arms. “Well, yes and no. Ned did have a poster of you in his room, I think he died a little when I told him I met you.” You roll your eyes as he continues. “No, you were always the nicest to me, treating me like an equal – you know – and you were funny and really smart and the way you twirl your hair with your left hand when your working a problem out in your head – I always thought that was cute.”

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously, “How observant, but I also twirl my hair when –”

“You’re sleepy,” he finishes your sentence with a smirk. “I know.”

Those dark eyes pull you in again and you stare at him for a brief moment, trying to decipher what’s happening. Your phone rings from the counter, interrupting the moment, and Peter notices the name Happy Hogan on the screen as you reach for it. Sliding the green bar sideways you answer the video call and see the man’s face staring blankly at the screen, smiling suddenly as your face appears on his end.

“Hey,” his voice is more enthusiastic than he is when talking with Peter. “So, I’m over here, helping out this evening and someone wanted me to give you a call.” He moves his phone beside him to reveal an adorable dark-eyed little girl who is smiling brightly.

“Aunt Sess,” she squeals in excitement. “We’re having ice cream for dinner!”

“You are,” you try not to laugh at her statement. “That’s so awesome, I wish I could have ice cream for dinner.”

“Are you home now?” Morgan questions. She’s more mature than most kids her age. “With Uncle Rhodey?”

“I am,” you smile at her warmly, those dark eyes reminding you so much of her father.

“What are you having for dinner?” The little girl questions curiously, taking you by surprise.

“I’m not sure,” you glance over at Peter for a moment smirking before looking back to the little girl in your phone. “Only boys live here, so there’s probably not a lot of options.”

“Hey,” Peter sounds insulted, “there’s a few things. Sam cooks sometimes.” Morgan’s face scrunches up in confusion as she listens to him speak and you turn the screen so she can see him. He waves at the child with a grin, “Hey Morgan.”

“OH!” Her voice blasts through the speaker as the idea comes to her. “Uncle Peter can make you a grilled cheese. He’s the best cook.”

Peter quickly raises his finger to his lips, “Ssshh – that’s supposed to be our secret.”

“It’s okay, she can keep a secret,” the girl assures him with a confident nod of her head. “I got to go, my ice cream’s melting.”

You angle the phone to fit both you and Peter in the frame before you speak, “I’ll see you soon okay? Sleep tight.”

“I love you tons,” she replies with a smile before blowing you a kiss with her small hand.

“Love you,” the two of you say simultaneously, each moving your hands from your lips toward the screen.

The call ends and you lay the phone on the counter, before you glance over at Parker, “Grilled cheese huh?”

“She did say they were the best,” he comments, standing up from the bar stool.

“We’ll see,” you remark as he moves around to the refrigerator and begins gathering the ingredients.

“It’s nice though,” Peter says glancing over his shoulder, “I didn’t know you talked to Morgan – I mean – since you’ve been gone.”

“I face time with her at least once a week,” you respond, glancing down at the phone. “I left because I needed to – not because I wanted to. I didn’t want her to think I’d left and forgotten her.”

“That’s good though – you staying in her life. She’s a great kid,” he moves a skillet onto the stove.

“She had a great dad,” the words slip out before you realize it and the two of you share a moment of silence as Peter continues working at the stove.

“Question though, why does she call you Aunt Sess?” He finally asks.

“Well,” a laugh slips through at the memory, “one day, I’m sitting there and she’s – I don’t know maybe a year old – maybe more. She’s already saying dada and mama at this point. Anyway, I’m there and she’s in her playpen reaching for me saying ‘Sess, Sess’. Pepper’s like, ‘So, you’re Sess, she’s been saying that word and I don’t know where it came from.’ All we could figure out is maybe she heard Tony call me princess and that’s what stuck with her, but I’ve been Aunt Sess ever since then.”

Peter turns from the stove with a smile, “I just thought you were her imaginary friend, when she’d tell me about Aunt Sess and how one day you’d come back home, but you were off on adventures, slaying dragons and saving princesses.”

“Technically,” another voice joins them as Sam approaches from the hall, Bucky trailing along behind him, “she was an heiress and he was the leader of one of the largest drug cartels in South America – so same thing.” You move quickly from the bar stool to embrace the man. He hugs you tightly noticing Peter at the stove, finishing up on the grilled cheese he’s making. “What’s this?” Sam pulls away from you, keeping one hand on your shoulder. “You show up and suddenly Parker knows how the stove works?”

“Shut up,” Peter shoots back at him, watching as you smack Wilson against the chest before moving over to greet Barnes.

Sam walks towards the stove while Peter moves to the sink with the now empty skillet, subtly watching you with soldier. There’s a small embrace, his metal hand lingers at your waist as the usual pleasantries are exchanged, then Barnes questions, “Was that the cartel in Bogota?”

“Yea – you were there,” you respond.

“With that shitty motel.” Bucky continues, glancing over at Sam. “Someone said it was the only one available.”

“It was,” Wilson defends himself as he tears one of the grilled cheese sandwiches in half and takes a bite from it.

Peter turns his attention back to the skillet, turning the water on and grabbing the scrub brush. He hadn’t thought about anyone helping you over the past two years, especially not Barnes. The idea of the two of you working together – alone – sharing a motel room. Maybe that’s why he looks comfortable with his hands on you, because they’ve touched you before. A wave a jealousy washes over him as visions of you and Barnes flash through his mind. A loud snapping sound brings Peter back to the present and he quickly turns off the water, looking down at the broken skillet in the sink – snapped in half.

“What the –” Sam steps over to look at the source of the sound.

“Oops,” Peter says bashfully.

The man shakes his head at him, “Really? This is why we can’t have nice things Parker.”

You walk across to the plate Peter had prepared and grab the half Sam left on top and take a bite for yourself, as the man throws the broken pieces in the garbage. You grab another half and offer it to Barnes as he walks over and accepts it, before you take another one for yourself to carry back to your room. Walking towards the hall, you reach up to pat Peter on the chest, “It is really good.” You hold up the grilled cheese. “Thanks for dinner Parker.”

His smile is a mix of awkward and warm as he watches you head down the hall toward your room, “You’re welcome.”

Wilson waits a few moments before he leans back against the counter, eyeing the man suspiciously, “Damn, man.”

“What?” Peter questions him.

Sam glances across to Bucky, “He’s got it bad.”

“Worse than we thought,” Barnes replies with a nod.

“Wha – no,” he stammers, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s not what you think.”

“Dude, you cooked,” Sam looks at him in disbelief.

“The only other person you’ve ever cooked for has you wrapped around her finger,” Bucky chimes in, “and she’s like seven.”

“She just got back,” Peter tries to defend himself. “I was being nice.”

“Uh huh,” Wilson looks skeptical. “Is that why your shirt looks two sizes too small?”

Parker flicks his left wrist at the man, the watch he’s wearing quickly shooting a web across the kitchen, catching Sam’s hand as he reaches for another piece of grilled cheese and plasters it to the countertop beside the plate.

"Hey!” Sam protests, trying to pull his hand free from the adhesive. “No webbing in the kitchen.”

“Jokes on you,” Peter gives him an unimpressed look. “This is your shirt.”

He turns and walks away as Bucky snorts, trying not to laugh, causing Sam to glare at him, “Real funny, now help me get this shit off.”

2017

“You two can stand there all day,” Tony remarks loudly without turning away from the table, “or you can actually come in and learn something.”

The two of you move quickly from the doorway and across to the table, each on opposite sides of the man. Peter looks a bit frazzled, “Sorry Mr. Stark, I just –”

“Don’t apologize,” the man cuts him short.

“You know I never interrupt your genius in action,” you say smoothly.

A wide smile spreads across Stark’s face and he glances from you back over to Peter, “That’s why she’s my favorite – take notes.”

Peter looks across the table at you, slightly annoyed, and a little envious of just how easy you make it look. You’re only a handful of years older than him, but he imagines you’ve always had this rebel attitude – too cool for school – never awkward.

It’s obvious you’re the class favorite and not just with Stark. During the fight in Germany, Peter can remember seeing Wanda fling a car at Rhodey, but he dodged it quickly, leaving an unsuspecting you in the path of it as you were chasing after Barnes. Steve Rogers had managed to tackle you out of the way before the car crashed into the pavement, metal and glass exploding around the two of you.

“You good?” He had questioned, as you both stood back up.

“Yea.” Peter can remember you had looked a little shaken and embarrassed.

“I didn’t want this – I’m sorry,” Steve informed you sincerely before he turned to rejoin the fight.

Captain America had given you respect that day and Peter a black eye. He knows normally anyone else would be jealous of that, and maybe it’s because he’s geeky and awkward, but it makes him like you more.

Peter would never admit to anyone else, but he loves spending his spare time at the compound hanging around the lab with Tony because – well duh, he’s Tony freaking Stark – but you’re always there too. You’re the only person who doesn’t treat him like the awkward teenager he truly is. Always asking his thoughts or opinions on things, never talking down to or chastising him in anyway.

“Hey,” Tony looks over to you, “will you go up to Rhodey’s office and get him, I need his thoughts on a few things?”

You give him a quick nod, “Sure thing boss.”

Peter watches you leave lab; not sure what Stark has said in the last ten minutes because his mind has been elsewhere. He turns to see the man move over to his computer and begin typing away in a program.

“If you’re going to spend time in my lab,” Tony says, not looking at Peter, “I’m going to need your full attention.”

“Yes sir.”

“That means stop looking at her like a lovesick puppy or I’ll have to split your time in the lab,” his tone is abrasive.

“I’m – I don’t – I’m not,” Peter stumbles over the words as he folds his arms across his chest defensively.

“She’s too old for you,” Stark spins around on the stool he’s sitting on to face Parker.

“I know,” the boy responds.

“The age thing won’t matter in a few years,” he cocks an eyebrow at his protégé, “she’s out of your league though.”

Peter clenches his jaw, furrowing his brows in confusion at Stark’s words, “I – I know that.”

“Good,” he glares at the boy for a moment. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Stark spins the stool back to face the computer and Peter takes a deep breath, “Yes sir.”

“Always go for the ones who are out of your league kid,” Tony comments nonchalantly, fingers flying away on the keyboard. “Remember – they’re the ones worth chasing.”

Part 3

[eldritchsurveys]

944.

Any cool small businesses in your area? >> There are a lot of small businesses in this area. The ones I tend to patronise are food-oriented and I usually find them through the farmer’s market -- like People’s Cider Company and Sacred Springs Kombucha and Donut Garden.

If you use libraries, what is the largest overdue fine you've ever had? >> The last time I had an outstanding fine, I was still in NYC. I think the worst fine I had was for Queens Library, it was a couple hundred dollars. I don’t remember what actually happened to the books I’d borrowed but I’m pretty sure they got lost somehow when I was being ping-ponged from shelter to shelter.

Do you ever borrow things other than books from the library? >> Not anymore, but I used to borrow CDs a lot.

Are there still any movie rental places left where you live? >> Yeah, there’s a Family Video right down the street from me.

Do you ever buy secondhand books (or DVDs, video games, CDs)? Or do you prefer them to be brand new? >> If I can find a book I want secondhand, then you’re damn skippy I’m buying it secondhand. And I hope to god a previous owner wrote in it because I love finding other people’s margin scribblings in books.

Have you seen the version of The Addams Family with Tim Curry as Gomez? >> I have not. But, related, I just rewatched Addams Family Values today, which I looooove.

What was the last TV show you were hooked on? >> The last TV show I got into is Lovecraft Country.

Have you ever started a book and never finished it? >> Plenty of times. Usually because the book turns out to be boring to me.

Do you have a favorite drummer? Who? >> No.

What about a favorite guitarist? Who? >> No.

Do you ever write fanfic? Of what? >> I... well, I used to. I mean, I still want to, I still think of it as part of my identity, but I haven’t been able to think of anything worth writing in quite a while now. I usually write for video game fandoms (like Dragon Age, Fallout, that sort of thing), although I’ve written a few things for shows and movies too.

Do you ever READ fanfic? Of what? >> I don’t usually read it, unless someone I know on tumblr wrote it or something (and I have to at least be somewhat familiar with the fandom).

Do you have a favorite poet? >> I don’t think so.

How many members are in the last band you listened to? >> I don’t remember the last band I listened to, but the last thing I listened to was my Release Radar playlist on Spotify, so there’s a high likelihood I don’t even know the last band I listened to.

Do you have a favorite classical composer? >> Funny you should mention that, because I just saved two “getting started with classical music”-type playlists on Spotify so I can listen to them later (when it’s not, you know, almost my bedtime lol). I want to figure out what my particular style is. Like, I love Lacrimosa, for example -- I want more songs like that, and also songs that just fuck you up with stringed instruments. I have to figure out which composers tend to make which kinds of songs and shit.

Do you ever accidentally clip your toenails too short and they hurt? >> No.

Have you ever had multicolored/rainbow hair? If not, would you ever want it? >> I’ve never had it. I don’t think I’d go for that, white/grey hair is more my style these days.

What kind of hats, if any, do you like to wear? >> Beanies.

Have you ever thought somebody was cute but no longer found them attractive once you got to know them better? What specifically about them turned you off? >> I don’t think so. I mean, maybe, but I just don’t remember any situation like that.

Have you ever thought somebody was plain-looking, but found them attractive once you got to know them better? What specifically about them made them so beautiful? >> Likewise, I wouldn’t remember a situation like this, either.

What is your #1 dealbreaker with friendships? (Why you wouldn't be friends) >> I don’t know what my “#1 dealbreaker” would be. I’m just really discerning about the kinds of people I even would allow close enough for friendship.

Who is your favorite character on Bob's Burgers and why? (If you watch it) >> Louise. Because she’s a clever wicked bastard and I love her.

What songs do you never get tired of? >> Oh, I don’t know.

Have you ever had a retro celebrity crush? Like a crush on an "old" celebrity who was most famous a long time ago or is long dead? >> Yeah, I’ve had a crush on James Stewart since I was literally like 10 years old.

Before buying something in a store, do you look online to see if you can get it cheaper there? >> Not usually. Especially since I know a search like that will put me face to face with Amazon for the zillionth time and I’m fucking sick of Amazon.

What type of things do you prefer to purchase online? >> I don’t know that I have a preference for online purchasing. It’s usually a matter of efficiency or convenience.

Are you interested in fashion? >> Yeah, I think the whole industry is just really interesting and intricate, particularly haute couture.

Do you prefer beef or chicken tacos? >> Meh.

Have you ever tried fish tacos? How were they? >> I love fish tacos.

Have you ever worn leather (or imitation leather) pants? >> No.

What part of your body seems to get cold the most? >> I’m not sure. My problem is usually being too hot, not too cold.

What do you like better, pants or shorts? >> Pants. I wear shorts sometimes in the summer because of the heat, but I don’t enjoy it.

Have you ever wished you had a different eye color? >> Yeah.

Do you know anybody with two different colored eyes? >> No.

[niksfiks]

Threads - A Challenge Entry

Originally posted 11/10/18

TITLE: Threads

AUTHOR: Nikkalia (niksfiks)

PAIRING: Loki/OFC

RATING: So very NSFW

SUMMARY: You’ve been avoiding Loki for weeks, citing a determination to finally end an on-again, off-again relationship that’s gone on for far too long. The God of Mischief has other ideas. 

NOTES/WARNINGS: Smut-ishness

PROMPT: “We need to talk.”

You’d have been happy to go to any ball in the Nine Realms except this one. The palace seated at the heart of Asgard always made you cringe whenever you visited, caused by an unsettling feeling of dread that seemed to hang in the air of the throne room. But the unpleasant sensations rolling in the pit of your stomach were coming from a different source. He’d be there, and you’d have to deal with the fallout of your decision to abandon your relationship, such as it was, with him.

Loki had noticed you ages ago at a ball, not unlike tonight. He’d charmed you - said all the right things, made all the right gestures and wooed you in near record time. It wasn’t difficult to see the attraction between you both. You shared the same interests and intellect, and honestly enjoyed each other’s company. No one balked at the idea of the prince and an ambassador’s daughter as a couple, and with Thor gaining headway in the race to the throne, you and Loki were content to simply be with each other. 

When your father took ill the first time, he decided that you would follow in his footsteps and began to train you in the responsibilities of ambassadorship. Loki was excited for you in the beginning as you traded letters of your travels with him. Over time, the stream of letters began to slow to a trickle, then ceased completely. A brief letter from the queen told you not to believe all of the rumors that would swirl about Loki when you once again visited the palace, but it didn’t prepare you for what you found upon your return to Asgard: a courtier straddling his lap, skirts around her waist and tongue down his throat. You swallowed your hurt and your pride and went back home the same day. 

You stood in front of the golden mirror, toying with a braid of black mixed with faded ribbon in your hair as the maids added the finishing touches to your ballgown, thinking back on the argument that followed. The tears, the screaming, the reconciliation - the vicious cycle that continued until your father’s death two seasons ago. Thor attended in Odin’s stead, offering the condolences of the family and a letter from his brother. You gladly accepted the first but refused the second, telling Thor there was nothing left to be said. 

The halls leading to the ballroom were thick with people and laughter, costumes and ball gowns swirling and floating around. You thanked the Norns that you could hide behind your mask, taking every response of shock and surprise at your identity as a personal triumph. How beautiful you’d grown, they said. How like your father you looked. How envious they were of whatever man had captured your heart. You smiled and thanked each for their kindness, not divulging that you’d never allowed another soul to even have a chance with you. 

Food and drink and music moved the night along, much to your relief. While you’d made your formal presentation to Odin and Frigga, their youngest was nowhere to be found. Thor embraced you with the expected bear hug, introducing you to his friends and his beloved Lady Sif. You found yourself laughing at Fandral’s jokes despite his reputation, and even allowed him to persuade you to dance. It was a proper waltz, followed by another, followed by something a little slower. You never noticed that Fandral pulled you a little closer with every turn until you felt the heat of his breath on your cheek. What could it harm, you pondered, to indulge his request to step out onto the balcony? Just as you decided that whatever fallout came would be minimal and forgotten within a day or two, the energy of the air shifted. The voice that rendered you useless and furious all at the same time sounded in a low growl. 

“Fandral. My lady Y/N.” 

You looked up to the darkened face suddenly standing next to you. Emerald green eyes glittering in the light distracted you from the arm that was already making its way around your waist. You thought you heard Fandral curse under his breath before speaking.

“Loki,” he sighed. “I suppose you want to cut in?” Loki snarled an affirmative, never taking his eyes from you. Fandral looked at you as well and abandoned his quest. “My lady,” he kissed your hand, garnering a louder growl from his successor, “it has been an absolute pleasure. I do hope to see you gracing the dance floor again soon.” 

You didn’t even have time to acknowledge him before Loki spun you away, pulling you both into the sea of dancers. You lost count of the songs that were played or steps taken locked in his arms. How you wished you could peer into his mind. He never spoke, never broke his gaze, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. Your heart pounded in your chest from the sheer terror and excitement of being this close to him again. He was as intoxicating as ever. 

Logic struggled for dominance when you became aware that he was directing your steps to the edges of the ballroom. He released your hand but not your waist, leading you to the halls outside, then a secluded terrace not far from his rooms. Before you could form the thought to speak, he spun you around, crushing his mouth against yours as he backed you against the wall. 

“Loki! Stop!” you cried, pushing him away.

“Why?” he panted, lust burning in his eyes. 

“Because,” you paused, still trying to rein your own libido back in, “we need to talk.”

“About what?” His hands flew into the air. “The same questions that lead to the same argument? AGAIN?”

“Why do you keep pursuing this...me? You were the one...”

“Oh, for the love of Valhalla, let that go! It’s been ten years! I know what I did. I know what you did in retaliation. And if you’d bothered...”

“Then what in the gods’ names...”

“If you’d bothered to read the letter I’d sent,” he took a breath, nearly choking on it before continuing, “if you’d even opened it, you’d know why I’m still pursuing you.”

“Just tell me so we can end this.”

“NO!” He grabbed you by the shoulders. “I don’t want this to end. I never did. Why will you not understand that?” 

“And why don't you understand that we’re terrible for each other? That we keep going around in circles because we know it but won’t admit that this will never work?” 

All color drained from Loki’s face as he stepped back. 

“Do you really believe that?” he whispered.

“I...” He watched you fumble for words for only a moment before closing the distance between you.

“No more talking.” 

Fingers wove into your hair. 

“No more arguing.” 

A thumb caressed your cheek. 

“Nothing but the sounds I adore coming from the woman I love.”

You tilted your head at the last word so that his kiss landed on your temple. 

You were suddenly aware of the speed in his breathing and his gaze upon you. You swore you could hear his heart pounding within his chest, or was it your own?

“I think, your Highness, you misunderstand the meaning of that word.” 

“My dear ambassador, I would gladly spend the rest of eternity showing you precisely what I believe that word to mean if you would only permit me.” Two long fingers crooked beneath your chin, lifting your face to his. “Or would you prefer to share Fandral’s bed tonight? Hmm?” Mischief flashed in his eyes. “If that is your wish, I feel I should warn you of his extensive collection of female undergarments. It makes for quite the unique decor. And, do give him time to change out of the ones he wears. He prefers not to shock his guests too badly all at once.” He grinned. “So I’m told.”

The vision of Fandral dressed only in lingerie caused you to burst into laughter. 

“And what of you, lord of mischief? What tricks do you have hidden away in your rooms?” you giggled. 

Loki chuckled, smiling down at you. “Shall I show you?” 

Without giving you a chance to respond, he wrapped his arms around you and transported you both into his suite. You lingered a moment in his arms, the sound of his pounding heart oddly soothing in your ear. He held you a little tighter, gentle kisses landing in your hair. 

“I’ve missed this,” you whispered. 

“As have I, my love.”

You looked up at him, grinning. “There’s that word again.”

“Indeed,” he smirked before lowering his lips to yours. Tongues danced around each other while his hands slid down your gown. Yours tried for his hair only to be blocked by his helmet. 

“Lose the armor,” you growled. 

“Is that all I should lose?” Your eyebrow shot up. He grinned and closed his eyes, letting the familiar green-gold of his seider deprive him of his clothing before pulling you to the bed. “Any other requests, darling?”

“No more magic tonight. And,” you grinned, “my choice.”

Loki eyed you carefully. “What are you planning?”

His question was silenced by a finger dragged from his lips, down his body, barely brushing against the tip of his stiffening cock before traveling across his thigh. You leaned closer leaving your lips a hair’s breadth away from his. 

“Are we agreed?” The hard swallow combined with the panicked desire in his eyes drew a chuckle from you. “Say yes.” A nod was all he could muster before you rewarded him with a kiss and pushed him back onto the bed. He growled when you swatted away the arms that reached for you. “Behave, or you sleep alone tonight.”

“Y/N,” he whimpered. “At least let me undress you.”

“Not yet.” 

His hands slid underneath his head and you began a painfully slow course along his jawline, nipping and licking a path down his neck and chest. He hissed, hands emerging to grab your hair. You pushed them back into the bed and bit down with a warning look in your eyes. He yelped and glared in disbelief. 

“I said, behave,” you grinned, blowing a soft stream of cold air over the tender nub. He shuddered and flopped backward, driving his hips - and his throbbing member -  into your stomach. You picked up the pace of placing random kisses along his chest, dragging your nails down his ribs before arriving at his pelvis. 

Loki whimpered when you stood. He lifted his head as far as he dared to watch you remove the outer skirts of your gown and sink to your knees. The feeling of your hands wandering along the inside of his thighs sent his head back to the bed, his eyes closed. 

“Oh, the Norns,” he moaned when your fingers ghosted up his shaft and down again, followed by your tongue, swirling around the head. He gasped when you closed your lips around him, and nearly came off the bed when you took him completely into your mouth. 

You’d almost forgotten how much you enjoyed the noises he made when you drug your teeth up his length and slid back down with your tongue. You teased him for a while, alternating between teeth and tongue and taking him completely into your mouth. Moans turned to growls when he’d had enough. A hand slid its way down the arm caressing his chest and into your hair, gently guiding your lips over his cock. 

Loki shuddered beneath you every time you swallowed him, humming as his hips bucked against you and his grip tightened against your scalp. You knew he was close and quickened the pace, adding your hand to every stroke. All you could hear now were whimpers and pleas to the gods, and you moved slightly to take the load you knew was inevitable.  

“STOP!” he shouted, pulling you away by your hair. You looked up to see his flushed face, pupils blown wide. “Not like this,” came in pants as his fingers eased their grip. 

“Hmm, but you promised,” you purred as your tongue darted back out, catching the arousal flowing from his cock. ”My choice.”

With a growl and a single motion, Loki hoisted you to straddle him. His hands worked furiously to remove your gown while he devoured your mouth with his. Frustrated at the complexity of your garment, he broke the kiss. 

“Then this is the second promise I break tonight.” 

A wave of his hands left you naked above him. You gasped when his teeth clamped down on an exposed nipple, his arms lifting you just enough to angle your sex away from his. Fingers rolled your swollen clit around before they slid inside you, garnering him a whimper for his good work. He grinned as you began to grind against his hand while he nipped his way across your chest. 

“Lo- Loki,” you stammered, desperately trying - and failing - to keep focused against his ministrations. 

He slid into you effortlessly, growling with your moan as your body accepted him to the hilt, clamping down the moment he stopped.

“Don’t move.” you gasped, locking your arms around his waist.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He took slow, deep breaths and you felt his muscles relax a bit, allowing him to shift ever so slightly.

“I said don’t...” You dug into his flesh, your entire body clenched around his. “Too close. Too soon.” you panted. 

Loki grinned into your neck, nuzzling, nipping and kissing your skin until your walls tightened even more.

“Dammit, Loki.”

“Darling,” he groaned, dragging his cheek along your own, “you must relax. This isn’t going to go well for either of us if you don’t.”

“Not. Ready.”

“Oh, I think you are.” He kissed you gently, sliding an arm beneath you. “I think you’re more than ready.” 

You whimpered while his fingers trailed down your hip and along your leg. He kissed you again, his roaming hand firmly gripping your ass. You loosened the vice grip on his body, creating a sigh from you both. 

“Much better. Now,” he whispered, “come for me.” 

You tried to resume your grasp on his hips when they started to move but found your hands caught in his.  

“Loki, please. Not yet.”

He slowed his pace, lifting his head to look at you. “The longer your release takes, my sweet, the more the ones that follow are delayed. I promise that this will be the first of many you’ll have tonight. I promise to take you in every way you desire. I promise that you will hear me cry out your name when we’re finally spent.” He leaned down, again burying himself completely, grinding his hips into yours. 

“But for now, let me have you. Let me see you come undone. Let me feel your body release around me.” He pulled out to the tip and slammed back into you. 

“Come.” He growled with another thrust. 

“For.” Another. 

“Me.” 

“LOKI!” you screamed, your back arched as you sailed over the edge. He continued pumping into you until he felt the first wave of your release, slowing to draw out your ecstasy and revel in the sight of your quivering body. When your breathing settled, he rolled you both over before peppering your neck with kisses and began plunging into you again. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” he purred and lifted you leg to grant better access while your hands roamed his back, nails digging in to pull him deeper. He stayed close, his breath hot on your neck between sighs. You nuzzled into his hair, drinking in the mixture of oils, soaps, and natural scent when a braid brushed across your cheek. You lifted it to eye level and smiled at the sight of a strand of your hair woven in with his. 

He had kept his promise.  

“Loki,” you breathed into his ear as you tucked the braid behind it. A hum that rumbled deep in his chest spurred a new fire in your belly. “Claim me.” 

He groaned, thrusting a little harder while your hands wandered back down his sides. 

“Take what’s yours.” 

A whimper escaped, his pace quickened and face buried in your neck. A tongue slid across your skin, bringing a moan from you both.

“Give me what’s mine.” 

Loki growled and bit down on your shoulder. You relaxed your hands in response and he pulled them above your head, holding you by the wrists as he started pounding into you. He moved like a man possessed, setting a pace so frantic that all you could do was hold onto him. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, moans and whimpers echoing around you as he brought you to a second climax. 

A third orgasm began building almost as soon as the second ended. He grinned and pressed his lips to yours, devouring his way along your jawline. When he found the sweet spot between your throat and shoulder, he clamped down, sucking a bright purple mark into your skin. The pain was enough to send you reeling again. Your entire body contracted around him, nails digging into his back. He roared out your name, finding his own release in spasms for what seemed an eternity. 

When his body calmed, he laid down against you, shifting his weight to one side. You listened to his breathing, accented with soft sighs, slow to normal. His fingers toyed with a few strands of hair, finding the braid with a smile. 

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

He propped himself up on an elbow, adoration in his eyes as he caressed the faded green ribbon. 

“You should have this rebraided while you’re here. Maybe with a bit of gold thread mixed in.”

A smile crept across your face. “Gold is reserved for royalty, Loki.”

“Is it?” Mischief played in his eyes. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question? The one you asked decades ago?” He purred an affirmative and you quirked an eyebrow. “Even after all this time, the question still stands?”

“Through Ragnarok and beyond.” 

“Such a poet my silvertongue is.” 

Loki leaned down, resting his chin on your chest. “Not enough of one to keep you with me.” he whispered. You began to protest but were silenced by a finger on your lips. “I’m not letting you go this time. Say yes.” 

The old battle between head and heart began anew while he watched. Eventually, he laid down on his side with his back facing you. You slid next to him, placing a hand on his arm. 

“I love you, my prince.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

[lins-fandom-hub]

Beat by the Beater

(ANOTHER MC interaction story with Sarahi Silvers, aka @dat-silvers-girl . Enjoy! This is also going in tandem with the release of the Quidditch event coming fairly soon.)

“And there goes Lin on the pitch with the Quaffle for Gryffindor--wow, she’s incredibly fast on her broom, especially for someone from my house--”

“McNully! This is supposed to be a fair match!”

Not even the Professor’s shout could break Clara’s focus. A recently accepted member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she knew she had to play her best to prove that she’s more than just a famed student Curse-Breaker. Skye had faith in her, and her captain had faith in her, too. It was all she could do not to screw up their chance at victory.

It had only been a few weeks since her tryouts, and since then she had been training, training, training for this match against Hufflepuff. She knew she would be up against some tough competition--Acromantulas and Hungarian Horntails won’t be a major obstacle on the pitch, but there were other players who were buffier than her, taller than her, and definitely much more skilled. Amidst trying to find clues for the last Vault, dealing with many a fallout within her big friend group, and keeping her little sister safe, she had far too much on her hands. Still, she knew she couldn’t let the team down. Skye had given her practical training, Murphy some tactical training, and she even spent days in the library looking up Quidditch matches and techniques.

They taught her so much, it would be a shame to give them her worst performance.

She quickly dodged another Hufflepuff Chaser coming her way, tucking into a barrel roll careening out of his way, before passing the Quaffle toward the other Gryffindor Chaser. Her eyes remained trained on the big red ball--so trained, though, that she failed to notice a Bludger coming in. 

“What’s this? A Bludger coming in on Lin?!” 

Clara heard the crowd gasp below her, and for a minute, she hovered in midair, her eyes fixed on the scarlet rippling sea.

Then the iron-wrought ball finally met her skull with a sickening SMACK, and she felt herself slipping off her broom, falling through the air...

---

“Go Skye! You got this! Woohoo!”

The stands that day were full of students coming down to watch the Quidditch friendly match--though the numbers were fewer than the typical Quidditch match that determined the standings for their interhouse Quidditch Cup, the enthusiasm that radiated all over still made Clara’s insides warm and her intrigue at its highest peak. Her eyes darted all over as the players showed their skill, flying so fast they were like blurs through the air.

Then she saw it--an iron-wrought ball soaring its way toward her.

She didn’t even have time to duck.

“Gotcha!”

Clara glanced up, eyes wide as the Beater’s bat swung at her face, steering the Bludger away from her face. It took her a few moments to realize that it was Skye who managed to grab hold of the bat and swing it far away. Clara checked her glasses--thankfully, it wasn’t damaged.

“Thank me later,” Skye shouted at her before diving back into the fray.

---

“You reckon she’ll be okay?”

“She doesn’t look so good.”

“No skull cracks, though! I’m shocked.”

“Reckon she’s got a thick skull or something?”

“She’s resilient for a Curse-Breaker!”

Soft murmurs floated above Clara’s head, and she slowly opened her eyes to see the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team by her bedside, along with Rowan who just stared down at her best friend with wide eyes. Or at least, that’s what she saw. Everything around her looked really out of focus, but nothing was seriously distorted.

“Clara! You alright?” Skye asked her, helping her sit up.

“Ugh...” Clara groaned and rubbed her eyes. “I feel fine. Well, not really. I feel like my head just weighed a thousand pounds.” She blinked a couple times, not trusting herself to turn her head to reach for her glasses. “What happened?”

“One of the Hufflepuff Beaters got you good with the Bludger,” Rowan explained. “Sarahi Silvers, I think her name is.”

“Sarahi?” Clara’s eyes widened at the name.

“How do you know, Rowan?” Skye asked her.

“Saw the name on the back of the jersey,” Rowan explained with a shrug. “Charlie got the Snitch shortly after you passed out, though--it gave us a victory, but everyone’s worried about you.”

“We...won?” A smile crossed Clara’s face, and she chuckled briefly. “Well, I guess you can say I finally got bested by a tough Beater. Not an Ice Knight, or an Acromantula...”

“Wait, an Acromantula?” Skye’s eyes widened.

“Details will follow. But Clara...” Rowan looked at her friend in concern, and Clara just shook her head.

“Seriously guys, I’ll be okay. Just a bit of bed rest would do me well,” Clara tried to reassure them. 

With a few terse nods from her teammates and a gift of a couple bottles of Butterbeer, the team left her alone in the hospital wing to rest and recover.

It’s crazy, though. One moment, she thought she was going to screw up today’s match. Next thing she knew, she didn’t even think of something that almost happened to her repeating itself while she was right in the fray. No one was there to hit the Bludger away from her this time. She had suffered the pain that she almost got the first time it came her way in the stands--but at least it was better than other sources of eternal immense pain. She had to be grateful, at least, that she was still alive.

Some time later, she woke up to another visitor, dropping by with her yellow Hufflepuff Quidditch robes all mussed up and her black hair sticking up every which way. Her face was still muddied somewhat with dirt, and her skin shone with sweat. It didn’t take long for Clara to recognize her friend, and she smiled wearily.

“Silvers,” she greeted her in a low voice. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

Sarahi opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a few good seconds, looking at the Butterbeer bottles on her bedside and then at her friend lying on the bed. She shook her head and took off her Quidditch gloves.

“That was my Bludger, wasn’t it?” she asked. “Oh god, Clara, I’m so sorry! I swore I was aiming for Charlie, but it must have switched directions--”

“It’s fine. I don’t blame you. The wind was pretty strong, wasn’t it?” Clara responded quietly.

“I’m serious!” Sarahi said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you this badly!”

Clara shook her head and chuckled. “You got me good, alright. And I don’t blame you for that. You did what you had to do to ensure Hufflepuff’s victory.”

“Clara...”

“Sarahi, I’m serious--don’t apologize for it. I’m fine.” Clara chuckled again and sat up, this time on her own. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll die from Acromantula venom or a deadly Hungarian Horntail wound. I’ll recover. I’ve got a thick skull.”

“You sure?” Sarahi asked.

“Sure.”

It was at that moment when Madam Pomfrey came around now, a small package in her hands.

“This is from your teammates, Miss Lin,” she said, placing it carefully beside the Butterbeers on the bedside table. “Best eat it up before it soils.”

Eat what up? Clara quickly grabbed the package and unwrapped it, surprised to see a small assortment of pastries and biscuits. Probably their get-well-gift to her. She smiled and then held up a pastry to Sarahi, offering it to her. “Want one?”

“You sure?” Sarahi asked again. “You seriously don’t blame me for that head injury?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m in good hands,” Clara reassured her again. “Now go on, have a pastry. And a Butterbeer. I doubt I’ll be able to finish it all by myself.”

And so the two of them had a rather merry conversation over Butterbeer, pastries, and laughter in the quiet hospital wing.

[nikkalia]

Threads - A Smut Challenge

TITLE: Threads

AUTHOR: Nikkalia

PAIRING: Loki/OFC

RATING: So very NSFW

SUMMARY: You’ve been avoiding Loki for weeks, citing a determination to finally end an on-again, off-again relationship that’s gone on for far too long. The God of Mischief has other ideas.

PROMPT: “We need to talk.”

NOTES/WARNINGS: Yes, I know. If I was gonna write, it should’ve been for GGIR. But this challenge was too good to pass up, and frankly, Loki wouldn’t shut up about this one. Besides, I needed a distraction. This is also not my best work, but what are ya gonna do? So, without further ado, @fadingcoast, @fandom-and-feminism, (also calling @igotloki @mrshiddleston-uk and @mischievousbellerina) I present this:

You’d have been happy to go to any ball in the Nine Realms except this one. The palace seated at the heart of Asgard always made you cringe whenever you visited, caused by an unsettling feeling of dread that seemed to hang in the air of the throne room. But the unpleasant sensations rolling in the pit of your stomach were coming from a different source. He’d be there, and you’d have to deal with the fallout of your decision to abandon your relationship, such as it was, with him.

Loki had noticed you ages ago at a ball, not unlike tonight. He’d charmed you - said all the right things, made all the right gestures and wooed you in near record time. It wasn’t difficult to see the attraction between you both. You shared the same interests and intellect, and honestly enjoyed each other’s company. No one balked at the idea of the prince and an ambassador’s daughter as a couple, and with Thor gaining headway in the race to the throne, you and Loki were content to simply be with each other.

When your father took ill the first time, he decided that you would follow in his footsteps and began to train you in the responsibilities of ambassadorship. Loki was excited for you in the beginning as you traded letters of your travels with him. Over time, the stream of letters began to slow to a trickle, then ceased completely. A brief letter from the queen told you not to believe all of the rumors that would swirl about Loki when you once again visited the palace, but it didn’t prepare you for what you found upon your return to Asgard: a courtier straddling his lap, skirts around her waist and tongue down his throat. You swallowed your hurt and your pride and went back home the same day.

You stood in front of the golden mirror, toying with a braid of black mixed with faded ribbon in your hair as the maids added the finishing touches to your ballgown, thinking back on the argument that followed. The tears, the screaming, the reconciliation - the vicious cycle that continued until your father’s death two seasons ago. Thor attended in Odin’s stead, offering the condolences of the family and a letter from his brother. You gladly accepted the first but refused the second, telling Thor there was nothing left to be said.

The halls leading to the ballroom were thick with people and laughter, costumes and ball gowns swirling and floating around. You thanked the Norns that you could hide behind your mask, taking every response of shock and surprise at your identity as a personal triumph. How beautiful you’d grown, they said. How like your father you looked. How envious they were of whatever man had captured your heart. You smiled and thanked each for their kindness, not divulging that you’d never allowed another soul to even have a chance with you.

Food and drink and music moved the night along, much to your relief. While you’d made your formal presentation to Odin and Frigga, their youngest was nowhere to be found. Thor embraced you with the expected bear hug, introducing you to his friends and his beloved Lady Sif. You found yourself laughing at Fandral’s jokes despite his reputation, and even allowed him to persuade you to dance. It was a proper waltz, followed by another, followed by something a little slower. You never noticed that Fandral pulled you a little closer with every turn until you felt the heat of his breath on your cheek. What could it harm, you pondered, to indulge his request to step out onto the balcony? Just as you decided that whatever fallout came would be minimal and forgotten within a day or two, the energy of the air shifted. The voice that rendered you useless and furious all at the same time sounded in a low growl.

“Fandral. My lady Y/N.”

You looked up to the darkened face suddenly standing next to you. Emerald green eyes glittering in the light distracted you from the arm that was already making its way around your waist. You thought you heard Fandral curse under his breath before speaking.

“Loki,” he sighed. “I suppose you want to cut in?” Loki snarled an affirmative, never taking his eyes from you. Fandral looked at you as well and abandoned his quest. “My lady,” he kissed your hand, garnering a louder growl from his successor, “it has been an absolute pleasure. I do hope to see you gracing the dance floor again soon.”

You didn’t even have time to acknowledge him before Loki spun you away, pulling you both into the sea of dancers. You lost count of the songs that were played or steps taken locked in his arms. How you wished you could peer into his mind. He never spoke, never broke his gaze, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. Your heart pounded in your chest from the sheer terror and excitement of being this close to him again. He was as intoxicating as ever.

Logic struggled for dominance when you became aware that he was directing your steps to the edges of the ballroom. He released your hand but not your waist, leading you to the halls outside, then a secluded terrace not far from his rooms. Before you could form the thought to speak, he spun you around, crushing his mouth against yours as he backed you against the wall.

“Loki! Stop!” you cried, pushing him away.

“Why?” he panted, lust burning in his eyes.

“Because,” you paused, still trying to rein your own libido back in, “we need to talk.”

“About what?” His hands flew into the air. “The same questions that lead to the same argument? AGAIN?”

“Why do you keep pursuing this...me? You were the one...”

“Oh, for the love of Valhalla, let that go! It’s been ten years! I know what I did. I know what you did in retaliation. And if you’d bothered...”

“Then what in the gods’ names...”

“If you’d bothered to read the letter I’d sent,” he took a breath, nearly choking on it before continuing, “if you’d even opened it, you’d know why I’m still pursuing you.”

“Just tell me so we can end this.”

“NO!” He grabbed you by the shoulders. “I don’t want this to end. I never did. Why will you not understand that?”

“And why don't you understand that we’re terrible for each other? That we keep going around in circles because we know it but won’t admit that this will never work?”

All color drained from Loki’s face as he stepped back.

“Do you really believe that?” he whispered.

“I...” He watched you fumble for words for only a moment before closing the distance between you.

“No more talking.”

Fingers wove into your hair.

“No more arguing.”

A thumb caressed your cheek.

“Nothing but the sounds I adore coming from the woman I love.”

You tilted your head at the last word so that his kiss landed on your temple.

You were suddenly aware of the speed in his breathing and his gaze upon you. You swore you could hear his heart pounding within his chest, or was it your own?

“I think, your Highness, you misunderstand the meaning of that word.”

“My dear ambassador, I would gladly spend the rest of eternity showing you precisely what I believe that word to mean if you would only permit me.” Two long fingers crooked beneath your chin, lifting your face to his. “Or would you prefer to share Fandral’s bed tonight? Hmm?” Mischief flashed in his eyes. “If that is your wish, I feel I should warn you of his extensive collection of female undergarments. It makes for quite the unique decor. And, do give him time to change out of the ones he wears. He prefers not to shock his guests too badly all at once.” He grinned. “So I’m told.”

The vision of Fandral dressed only in lingerie caused you to burst into laughter.

“And what of you, lord of mischief? What tricks do you have hidden away in your rooms?” you giggled.

Loki chuckled, smiling down at you. “Shall I show you?”

Without giving you a chance to respond, he wrapped his arms around you and transported you both into his suite. You lingered a moment in his arms, the sound of his pounding heart oddly soothing in your ear. He held you a little tighter, gentle kisses landing in your hair.

“I’ve missed this,” you whispered.

“As have I, my love.”

You looked up at him, grinning. “There’s that word again.”

“Indeed,” he smirked before lowering his lips to yours. Tongues danced around each other while his hands slid down your gown. Yours tried for his hair only to be blocked by his helmet.

“Lose the armor,” you growled.

“Is that all I should lose?” Your eyebrow shot up. He grinned and closed his eyes, letting the familiar green-gold of his seider deprive him of his clothing before pulling you to the bed. “Any other requests, darling?”

“No more magic tonight. And,” you grinned, “my choice.���

Loki eyed you carefully. “What are you planning?”

His question was silenced by a finger dragged from his lips, down his body, barely brushing against the tip of his stiffening cock before traveling across his thigh. You leaned closer leaving your lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Are we agreed?” The hard swallow combined with the panicked desire in his eyes drew a chuckle from you. “Say yes.” A nod was all he could muster before you rewarded him with a kiss and pushed him back onto the bed. He growled when you swatted away the arms that reached for you. “Behave, or you sleep alone tonight.”

“Y/N,” he whimpered. “At least let me undress you.”

“Not yet.”

His hands slid underneath his head and you began a painfully slow course along his jawline, nipping and licking a path down his neck and chest. He hissed, hands emerging to grab your hair. You pushed them back into the bed and bit down with a warning look in your eyes. He yelped and glared in disbelief.

“I said, behave,” you grinned, blowing a soft stream of cold air over the tender nub. He shuddered and flopped backward, driving his hips - and his throbbing member -  into your stomach. You picked up the pace of placing random kisses along his chest, dragging your nails down his ribs before arriving at his pelvis.

Loki whimpered when you stood. He lifted his head as far as he dared to watch you remove the outer skirts of your gown and sink to your knees. The feeling of your hands wandering along the inside of his thighs sent his head back to the bed, his eyes closed.

“Oh, the Norns,” he moaned when your fingers ghosted up his shaft and down again, followed by your tongue, swirling around the head. He gasped when you closed your lips around him, and nearly came off the bed when you took him completely into your mouth.

You’d almost forgotten how much you enjoyed the noises he made when you drug your teeth up his length and slid back down with your tongue. You teased him for a while, alternating between teeth and tongue and taking him completely into your mouth. Moans turned to growls when he’d had enough. A hand slid its way down the arm caressing his chest and into your hair, gently guiding your lips over his cock.

Loki shuddered beneath you every time you swallowed him, humming as his hips bucked against you and his grip tightened against your scalp. You knew he was close and quickened the pace, adding your hand to every stroke. All you could hear now were whimpers and pleas to the gods, and you moved slightly to take the load you knew was inevitable.  

“STOP!” he shouted, pulling you away by your hair. You looked up to see his flushed face, pupils blown wide. “Not like this,” came in pants as his fingers eased their grip.

“Hmm, but you promised,” you purred as your tongue darted back out, catching the arousal flowing from his cock. ”My choice.”

With a growl and a single motion, Loki hoisted you to straddle him. His hands worked furiously to remove your gown while he devoured your mouth with his. Frustrated at the complexity of your garment, he broke the kiss.

“Then this is the second promise I break tonight.”

A wave of his hands left you naked above him. You gasped when his teeth clamped down on an exposed nipple, his arms lifting you just enough to angle your sex away from his. Fingers rolled your swollen clit around before they slid inside you, garnering him a whimper for his good work. He grinned as you began to grind against his hand while he nipped his way across your chest.

“Lo- Loki,” you stammered, desperately trying - and failing - to keep focused against his ministrations.

He slid into you effortlessly, growling with your moan as your body accepted him to the hilt, clamping down the moment he stopped.

“Don’t move.” you gasped, locking your arms around his waist.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He took slow, deep breaths and you felt his muscles relax a bit, allowing him to shift ever so slightly.

“I said don’t...” You dug into his flesh, your entire body clenched around his. “Too close. Too soon.” you panted.

Loki grinned into your neck, nuzzling, nipping and kissing your skin until your walls tightened even more.

“Dammit, Loki.”

“Darling,” he groaned, dragging his cheek along your own, “you must relax. This isn’t going to go well for either of us if you don’t.”

“Not. Ready.”

“Oh, I think you are.” He kissed you gently, sliding an arm beneath you. “I think you’re more than ready.”

You whimpered while his fingers trailed down your hip and along your leg. He kissed you again, his roaming hand firmly gripping your ass. You loosened the vice grip on his body, creating a sigh from you both.

“Much better. Now,” he whispered, “come for me.”

You tried to resume your grasp on his hips when they started to move but found your hands caught in his.  

“Loki, please. Not yet.”

He slowed his pace, lifting his head to look at you. “The longer your release takes, my sweet, the more the ones that follow are delayed. I promise that this will be the first of many you’ll have tonight. I promise to take you in every way you desire. I promise that you will hear me cry out your name when we’re finally spent.” He leaned down, again burying himself completely, grinding his hips into yours.

“But for now, let me have you. Let me see you come undone. Let me feel your body release around me.” He pulled out to the tip and slammed back into you.

“Come.” He growled with another thrust.

“For.” Another.

“Me.”

“LOKI!” you screamed, your back arched as you sailed over the edge. He continued pumping into you until he felt the first wave of your release, slowing to draw out your ecstasy and revel in the sight of your quivering body. When your breathing settled, he rolled you both over before peppering your neck with kisses and began plunging into you again.

“I’m not done with you yet.” he purred and lifted you leg to grant better access while your hands roamed his back, nails digging in to pull him deeper. He stayed close, his breath hot on your neck between sighs. You nuzzled into his hair, drinking in the mixture of oils, soaps, and natural scent when a braid brushed across your cheek. You lifted it to eye level and smiled at the sight of a strand of your hair woven in with his.

He had kept his promise.  

“Loki,” you breathed into his ear as you tucked the braid behind it. A hum that rumbled deep in his chest spurred a new fire in your belly. “Claim me.”

He groaned, thrusting a little harder while your hands wandered back down his sides.

“Take what’s yours.”

A whimper escaped, his pace quickened and face buried in your neck. A tongue slid across your skin, bringing a moan from you both.

“Give me what’s mine.”

Loki growled and bit down on your shoulder. You relaxed your hands in response and he pulled them above your head, holding you by the wrists as he started pounding into you. He moved like a man possessed, setting a pace so frantic that all you could do was hold onto him. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, moans and whimpers echoing around you as he brought you to a second climax.

A third orgasm began building almost as soon as the second ended. He grinned and pressed his lips to yours, devouring his way along your jawline. When he found the sweet spot between your throat and shoulder, he clamped down, sucking a bright purple mark into your skin. The pain was enough to send you reeling again. Your entire body contracted around him, nails digging into his back. He roared out your name, finding his own release in spasms for what seemed an eternity.

When his body calmed, he laid down against you, shifting his weight to one side. You listened to his breathing, accented with soft sighs, slow to normal. His fingers toyed with a few strands of hair, finding the braid with a smile.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

He propped himself up on an elbow, adoration in his eyes as he caressed the faded green ribbon.

“You should have this rebraided while you’re here. Maybe with a bit of gold thread mixed in.”

A smile crept across your face. “Gold is reserved for royalty, Loki.”

“Is it?” Mischief played in his eyes. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question? The one you asked decades ago?” He purred an affirmative and you quirked an eyebrow. “Even after all this time, the question still stands?”

“Through Ragnarok and beyond.”

“Such a poet my silvertongue is.”

Loki leaned down, resting his chin on your chest. “Not enough of one to keep you with me.” he whispered. You began to protest but were silenced by a finger on your lips. “I’m not letting you go this time. Say yes.”

The old battle between head and heart began anew while he watched. Eventually, he laid down on his side with his back facing you. You slid next to him, placing a hand on his arm.

“I love you, my prince.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

[kryptoseyvyian]

Gaming Tag~

Tagged by the lovely @tyishi

and I tag.. @rk900connor if you wanna, or anyone who wants to do it c: 

Favorite game from the last five years The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, since it is one of the few games I full on anticipated from announcement to release. Not to mention it was totally dope and lived to it’s expectations. 

Most nostalgic game K, I have four. five.

The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap. These were the first Zelda games I completed on my own and I absolutely loved and love them!

Final Fantasy: The Crystal Chronicles: This, along with Zelda the Wind Waker, I watched my brother play a lot when I was young, he got me copy for my birthday I believe, and I absolutely adore it (even though I haven’t technically finished it lol). I use to play Selkies religiously, now I love playing Clavats. 

Harvest Moon: Magical Melody: While it wasn’t this title I’d watch my brothers play Harvest Moon a lot as well, and for my tenth birthday my parents got me this game, as well as my brother giving me my own wireless game cube controller. I played this game so much as a kid. Harvest Moon still has a good place in my heart today and I still enjoy playing multiple titles of it. :) 

(how could I forget this one!?) Age of Empires 2!!! This was the greatest sibling game from my childhood! 

Game that deserves a sequel

I, not so lowkey, really want to know what happens to the Outsider after the last Dishonored game.

Other than that I’d like to see another Final Fantasy: The Crystal Chronicles sequel, this time an RPG like the first one. I know there is Crystal Bearers, but I missed the RPG elements, and the retcons and lack of going south of the Alfitaria area. They had so much to work with from the first game but ignored most of it. The mostly put nostalgic locations but didn’t tie in with the first game aside from that. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty great game, but I felt like it didn’t do so well in putting the things I loved about the first game. Thus I’d love another sequel, perhaps an in between the two since they’re so far apart. Fill in the blaring gaps.. maybe explain why we never go to Tipa :( I really wanted to go to Tipa.. Game that deserves a remaster Elder Scrolls 1-3 and Fallout 1-2 please! 

Favorite game series

anyone who knows me knows I love Fallout, The Elder Scrolls, and the Dishonored series so so so much!

Favorite genre

Fantasy has and always been my favorite genre! Games, books movies, etc. Love fantasy! I also have grown to love sci-fi a lot over the years. 

as for favorite type of game, open world RPGs are my weakness, I adore them so much.

Least favorite genre

sports >:( and strictly match based pvp (for the most part, aside from Super Smash Bros) I need story and character development in most games, unless the other aspects intrigue me enough I am not a fan.

Favorite song from a game

Skyrim: Sovngarde SKYRIM BELONGS TO THE NORDS

and #1 spot belongs to: 

Honor for All from Dishonored 

I am such a music junkie I could show you a thousand more...

Favorite character from a game

Corvo Attano from Dishonored 1 and 2!

I also adore the Outsider from the same game.

Sotha Sil from Elder Scrolls Online and Nick Valentine from Fallout 4!

Favorite ship from a game

Tableau and Manacar from Elder Scrolls Online (Hulkynds deserve to be happy!!!) 

Corvo and Jessamine obviously (Corvo had me in tears my first run of Dishonored 2)

Favorite cutscene

oh man... probably the very end of the first dishonored game, I was so blown away I was just in shock and absorbed every minute of it. 

I don’t know if these would technically count as cut scenes but a few parts from ESO really struck me. 1. The whole confrontation with Molag Bal at the end of the main quest and getting your soul back from Meridia is awesome. 2. In Orsinium when you realize the plot behind the orc kings actions and the proceedings after that. 3. The ending of the Dark Brotherhood questline in the epic maneuver your character does to assassinate the main antagonist. 4. The sky literally falling and a guard being more concerned with Red Mountain blowing up than the rock inches from crashing into them towards the end of the Morrowind chapter. 5. and last but not least, fighting against Nocturnals influence in the center of the Clock Work City. ..... I have a lot of memorable moments from the story in that game.......

First console

My brothers owned an N64 which I played a little, but I would say Game Cube and Wii :P 

Current console or consoles

Wii U, 3DS, and mainly, my bootiful gaming pc <3 

Console you want

I would love a PS4 for it’s exclusive games, and a Switch because I’ve heard good things.

Place from a game you’d like to visit

TAMRIEL. and definitely not the isles from Dishonored, too much shit happens there. 

Place from a game you’d like to live in I’d love to live in Bruma (in Cyrodiil) or Windhelm (in Skyrim) winter and mountains are my aesthetic  Ridiculous crossover that would never happen but would be super fun Fallout/ Elder Scrolls, release the chaos! 

someone did a thing like that here

Book that would make a good game

Uh I’d say Dungeons and Dragons, but that started as a game, and have since had video games, other than that I don’t know of any I’m super down to see a video game of atm. 

————

[aaronpullinteeth]

Top 10s: Video Games

Ok, I got inspired to do this after watching UpUpDownDown and might do more of these for different topics. Right, quick rules. 1 game per franchise and an explanation as to why I love it will be given. No spoilers either.

10: Tomb Raider 1

Ok, there’s going to be a lot of PS1 games in here. It’s my era and the first console I got so deal with it. Nostalgia is powerful shit. I remember being really young, like 4 years old and watching my step dad play this game for hours. After awhile we started playing it together, we would play for hours and I was so hooked. The story was so good Lara Croft was the first human main character for a game I can remember playing and it will always have a special place in my heart. This is why the new Tomb Raider games have been so hard for me to get on board with.

9: Spiderman PS1

The first game I ever finished, start to finish, on my own. I finished it so many times I unlocked all the costumes without the cheat. I then lost my save so begged friends at school for the cheat so I didn’t have to do it all again. But ended up doing it all again anyway. I am a massive superhero fan and Spiderman was my first favorite superhero and I dreamed of a day he would get a game, so when he did, I played it to death. I loved it so much. It was like playing a season of the 90s animated tv show. Pure superhero gaming perfection.

8: Mass Effect 2

In the modern era it’s rare I actually finish a game. Modern games either have gameplay that just entertain (either handling terribly or just plain boring) or the story is terrible. This was different. I never got to play the first Mass Effect as I believe it never released for the PlayStation and I never had an Xbox. But I found the second one years after it released on the cheap. Figured I’d give it a go, I didn’t have plans that weekend. It was something else. It was the first time since....a game later in this list.... that I had experienced such great and interactive story telling in a game. And by that I mean a game where you actually felt like you shaped it. For those that haven’t played it I wont spoil anything, but when you get to the last mission, it really shows how a game can handle your choices.

7: Croc 1

The only game on this list I haven’t actually finished. But my god it was fun. Another example of games on the PlayStation 1 that were such simplistic perfection. Without much of a clear story and other than “save these creatures from the bad things!” it was engaging and that soundtrack......oh my god that soundtrack.

6: Medievil 2

Play it. Just play it. And the first one too. i struggled with which one to put on this list. And while the first one might have had a few more funny moments with dialogue, the variety in levels, weapons, environments and story for a PS1 game were way way WAAAAAY ahead of their time. A game that somehow took a great dry sense of humor, an engaging story, a lovable protagonist that wasn’t your usual “badass” (again, I wont spoil anything) it was just pure fun, start to finish. The dark, gothic yet funny aesthetic didn’t hurt either

5: Tekken 3

Fighting game perfect. Disagree? Fight me. I know the argument of “Street Fighter vs Mortal Kombat vs Tekken” has been going on for ages. I am team Tekken. The massive shifts in tone between characters and story is so good and keep it entertaining no matter how many times you play. But the thing that puts this Tekken ahead of the others is the Tekken Force mode. Not only did you have one of the best one on one fighting games ever, but you also had a multi leveled side scrolling beat em up in with it. What was not to love? Sidenote: King is my character. I once was at a house party and we have Tekken set up and I beat everyone else there two times over playing as King to the point we changed the game because I just wasn’t losing.

4: Fallout New Vegas

In my humble opinion, the greatest RPG experience ever. I know a lot of people wont agree. A lot wont even agree with it in the case of only Fallout games. But this is my favorite and I pumped so many hours into this game. You could play it 20 times over and never play the same way twice. No matter what you did, it had an impact. You could start the game and kill the first person you see and that would have a massive effect on your game. You could be good, evil, smart, dumb, a scientist, a fighter, a talker, a lover, a loner almost anything you want. The only game (other than the next on this list) that I have finished without killing anyone in it....I mean games where that is actually an option, you can finish the game without killing. It’s amazing.

3: Undertale

What can I say that hasn’t been said? A game where it will make you laugh, it will make you cry, it will make you fall in love with side characters that you might only meet once, hell it’ll make you fall in love with the generic “enemies”. Everyone and everything has a personality in this game. And when it comes to being inclusive to all, this game is the best I’ve ever seen. Every character is different and so deep it’s amazing how much time and effort must have gone into it. If you haven’t played it for yourself, do it. I mean. You’ll get at least 2 playthroughs out of it that will be different. 3 if you have the time.

2: WWE Smackdown Shut Your Mouth

The game that I have lost the most hours of my life to....I think.....either this or number 1. Almost all WWE games have the same format, at least this era of WWE games. The mode that I will focus on is the season mode. 2 full years worth of storylines and madness. All different, all fun. Some based on real WWE storylines but with twists. If you are a wrestling fan, well a WWE fan, this is the best game for season mode.....well, this and Here Comes The Pain. It;s very close. This one wins for me because you get 2 full years worth. 

1: Crash Bandicoot 1 

The first game I ever owned. The day my dad brought home a PS1 and this game I was hooked. Hours of my childhood were lost to this orange, spinning asshole. Who doesn’t love Crash? He’s the best character ever created for PS1 in my opinion. Without saying a word he was amazing. The best. And the levels were all so good and challenging. But not bad challenging. You always knew what to do, just doing it was hard work. But the feeling you get when you beat the game......it’s so good. And shoutout to the music. Best soundtrack!

[taytay4ever]

Amid So Many Stories About Bad Men In The Media, Taylor Swift Strikes Back With ‘Reputation’

In the run-up to her sixth album, Reputation, Taylor Swift has been discussed first as a global brand, with the media analyzing her every machination and whether it has induced her possible “obsolescence,” and then as a musician. But now that this record is finally in the world, let’s start with Swift’s music for a change.

Reputation is a cold, convoluted, often surly record, heavily weighted with overly complicated prog-R&B arrangements, awkward attempts at rapping, and lyrics that underline every reference to Swift’s casual hook-ups and late-night binge-drinking. At the risk of libeling Swift’s usual stable of expensive pop-auteur collaborators — headlined by Max Martin, Shellback, and Jack Antonoff — some of the songs seem almost pasted together, with verses barging indelicately into pre-choruses as tempos shift in jarring fashion. The elegance of previous Swift blockbusters like 2012’s Red and 2014’s 1989 has gone missing.

And yet, Reputation adds up to a fascinating and often moving, self-portrait. On the biggest possible stage, Swift has fearlessly exposed some of her rawest vulnerabilities. For the first time in years, Swift seems like a rather ordinary human being, with all the unattractive flaws and nagging hang-ups that suggests.

As was the case with Reputation‘s bewildering first single, “Look What You Made Me Do,” the album is initially off-putting, as sour and difficult to like as Swift’s previous pop album, the candy-coated retro-pop showcase 1989, was sweet and catchy. Swift is nothing if not a pop-music prodigy, a seasoned hitmaker at age 27 who already displayed preternatural gifts for crafting heart-rending earworms more than a decade ago, at a time when her peers were struggling to write essays on The Great Gatsby (which Swift pointedly references on Reputation) in high school.

Swift’s franchise is creating the types of songs that people like without even trying to like them. And yet Reputation is decidedly not in that tradition — sure enough, the album’s early singles have not captured the public’s imagination the way those undeniable world-beaters of 1989 did. It seems intuitive that this represents a failure on Swift’s part. But then you dwell on this album’s lyrics, which are laced with violent imagery and obsessed with control and score-settling, and all of a sudden the turbulent, herky-jerky music makes more sense.

Reputation doesn’t fail at being likable, because being likable for once doesn’t seem to be Swift’s agenda. Rather, this album succeeds at expressing a litany of deep, intractable resentments by a world-famous pop star who seems alienated from all but a tight circle of trusted confidantes. “Here’s a toast to my real friends,” she crows on the album’s bitterest track, “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” You suspect she’s not addressing more than a few people.

Who is Taylor mad at? Who do you got? No specific names are mentioned in the lyrics to Reputation, so instead there are opaque references to “older guys,” “the world,” “what I can’t have,” and “the liars.” But, above all, what haunts Taylor is the proverbial “they” — in “I Did Something Bad,” they are “burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one.” In “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” Swift loves her baby because “he ain’t reading what theycall me lately.”

The songs on Reputation don’t necessarily lend themselves to the sort of “Which boyfriend is this one about?” parlor games that people usually play with Taylor Swift albums. The animus instead here feels intangible and existential, which is why Swift’s belated embrace of hip-hop, while artistically tenuous and bound to be viewed cynically by those who believe Swift is an opportunist, is such a crucial development on Reputation.

It’s easy to laugh at Swift’s stilted flow in “…Ready For It?” or puzzle at the ill-advised “street speak” of the chorus. (“I, I, I see how this is gon’ go.”) But the overt feistiness of rap allows Swift to front-load emotions that she has previously kept concealed behind frothy pop hooks and that iconic “Oh, I can’t believe my good fortune!” award-show face. “I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put ’em,” Swift spits in “End Game,” which shoehorns cameos by Future and Ed Sheeran that would seem preordained by a streaming-service algorithm if Swift were more enthusiastic about streaming. (Reputation is not yet available on any streaming platform.)

Swift has written similarly barbed lyrics in the past, of course, but back then there was usually a trace of playfulness. When she refers to herself as “insane” in “Blank Space,” you can sense the self-deprecation and implied eye roll. But Reputation — aside from that stray cat joke in “Gorgeous” — is mirthless. This time, when Swift buries a hatchet, she draws blood.

Swift has been a magnet for criticism lately — some of it fair, much of it not. The media narrative has turned so rapidly against her that it’s almost hard to remember that, for much of her career, Swift was a darling of the press. As late as 2015, the New York Times was still inclined to refer to her as an “underdog,” and there were no shortage of Swift defenders in the press eager to call out perceived slights, whether it was an indie-music site not reviewing 1989 (even as virtually every other outlet on the planet lavished the album with coverage) or the sexism of Ryan Adams covering the album in its entirety.

But nobody sees Swift as an underdog in 2017. Now, she’s an establishment foil for Cardi B, whose scrappy smash “Bodak Yellow” removed “Look What You Made Me Do” from the top of the pop charts after “just” three weeks this fall. “Look What You Made Me Do” has sunk precipitously ever since, along with the followup single “…Ready For It,” which peaked at No. 4.

Certainly, it’s worth noting that these songs haven’t made the impact that singles like “Blank Space” and “Shake It Off” did. But the whispers that Swift is now finished as a pop star, as Spotify-powered rappers storm the charts seems a tad premature, given that Reputation is projected to move an impressive-in-any-era two million units in its first week.

Did anyone really expect Swift to keep on churning out 1989-sized pop bangers in perpetuity? Who faulted Beyoncé when Lemonade — which like Reputation is clearly conceived as an album rather than a playlist of singles — also didn’t produce any lasting chart hits? (The highest charting single from Lemonade, “Formation,” peaked at No. 10. At least Taylor spent the better part of a month at No. 1.)

Here’s a criticism I agree with: Swift should condemn the alt-right cult that reveres her as some sort of blonde Aryan goddess. Her apparent stubbornness on this issue is strange, considering that sending out a press release against Nazis is literally the easiest thing in the world to do. (I suspect she doesn’t deem it necessary to declare her anti-Nazi bonafides, as opposed to being reluctant to anger conservatives, a frequent charge from critics. But letting the controversy linger nonetheless is nonsensical.) However, the larger argument that Swift’s stock as a pop star has slipped because she’s maintained a largely apolitical public persona doesn’t wash.

Swift, like virtually every artist, is a narcissist. And, by and large, that’s why people like her, because when Swift sings about herself, she does it in a way that makes millions of people believe she’s actually singing about them. That is the job of a pop star. This weird insistence that a musician who has previously shown no inclination to be a political commentator must suddenly register her yay-or-nay take on Donald Trump, Black Lives Matter, or Hillary vs. Bernie says more about our displaced reverence for pop stars than it does about Swift’s supposed moral obligations.

Isn’t it possible that Taylor Swift genuinely has nothing to say on these matters? And isn’t that okay? If given the choice between performative wokeness and authentic non-engagement, I’ll take the latter, please. Besides, as we’ve seen demonstrated time and again lately, the personal is political, particularly when it comes to one of Swift’s primary subjects: The power struggles between men and women.

Reputation arrives in the midst of an ongoing moral apocalypse in the entertainment industry, in which sexual harassment and assault have been properly re-contextualized in the popular consciousness as expressions of dominance and humiliation, typically by straight white men over women. Swift herself has been victimized by this power imbalance, by a Colorado radio DJ who groped her during a station visit in 2013, when Swift was 23. (Swift won a civil suit against the DJ this summer.)

It might be hard to conceive of Swift, one of the world’s most famous women, as somehow subordinate to a faceless radio jock. But consider how country radio has suppressed women, or how chart success (which is still enabled greatly by radio airplay) has come to dominate, dubiously, how we determine relevance or even artistic merit in popular music. If the fallout from the Harvey Weinstein scandal has taught us anything, it’s that even famous women can be abused by much less famous but nonetheless well-connected men behind the scenes.

But with Reputation, I sense that Swift is finished with that. In her new songs, Swift always has the upper hand. If anyone is going to get broken, it’s the guy in the equation, who’s typically an older (and therefore patriarchal) figure. (“I’ve been breaking hearts for a long time / And toyin’ with them older guys / just playthings for me to use,” she seethes in the dirge-like “Don’t Blame Me.”) If she does decide to settle down, it’s up to the other person to accept her shortcomings, not the other way around. (“Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me,” she sings on “Dress.”) Either way, she gets to be the dominant one, the person who always gets what she wants, including the last word.

After listening to Reputation, I think I understand why Swift’s been seemingly indifferent about her recent bad PR choices, including her threat, via a lawyer, to sue a blogger who criticized her silence on the white supremacist issue. And I get why she’s retreated from the media to the comfort of her massive cult on Tumblr, an audience inclined to perceive her venting and femme-fatale posturing as cathartic, rather than merely petulant.

If Reputation had a nutgraf, it would be, “Why should I have to explain myself?” To Swift, going through the paces of tending to her “perfect” public image seemingly provokes the most resentment of all, since it only seems to make people expect even more from her. Haven’t they already taken enough?

Uproxx

[sheminecrafts]

Living with the Samsung Galaxy Z Flip

The Galaxy Z Flip ships with the same “Care Instructions” as the Fold. It’s a five-item list with the following basic points:

Don’t scratch the screen with a pen or fingernail

Don’t stick stuff between the screens when folding

Don’t get it dusty, wet or feed it after midnight

Don’t stick stickers to the screen

Don’t get it near credit cards or your pacemaker

Unlike the last time around, however, these warnings seem to have been included out of an (understandable) abundance of caution. As stated in my hands-on the other day, the Flip feels more solid than the Fold in just about every way, from the folding mechanism to the display, which now sports foldable protective glass.

Samsung Galaxy Z Flip hands-on: This is more like it

A couple of notes before we start here. First, and most importantly, this is a rare 24-hour device loan. Short loan times are not entirely uncommon with high-end products, but a single day is a bit extreme. I’m being upfront about this because:

You can only go into so much depth with limited time.

It’s worth noting what appears to be a bit of caution on Samsung’s part.

My Galaxy Fold display is damaged after a day

This isn’t a case of an early product in limited supply. The Z Flip went on sale today (happy Valentine’s/Sonic the Hedgehog Day to you and yours). If I had to venture a guess, it would be that Samsung is still reeling a bit from fallout from the Fold, which found a number of review devices breaking prior to the product hitting the market.

For all of the downside, however, I would argue that coverage that pushed the company to reinforce the product before actually selling it for $2,000 a pop was ultimately a good things. Besides, as was pointed out to me, most if not all of the faulty Folds went sideways before the 24-hour mark.

See also: the Moto Razr. Reviews of the product have started filtering in a week or so after the product hit the market. Seems the company opted not to give out review units until the product was already available (full transparency: I still haven’t gotten my hands on a review unit). The analogy I keep coming back to is movie reviews. If you don’t see any professional reviews by the time a movie hits theaters, that probably doesn’t bode well for spending $10 of your hard-earned cash.

None of this is an indictment of the Galaxy Z Flip, which so far is proving to be a pretty solid device. It’s more a comment on the optics of it all. Give than the handset is roughly the same price as 150 movies, reviews are all that much more valuable to consumers — many of whom are understandably wary after the category’s rocky start.

It’s a shame, because I’ve been enjoying my time with the Galaxy Z Flip. In many ways, this is exactly the device Samsung’s original foldable should have been. For starters, the form factor just makes more sense. The “why” of the Fold was significantly more difficult to explain to those outside the industry (and frankly, many of those inside it, as well).

Anyone who’s ever used a clamshell phone, on the other hand, will immediately get the Flip. You’ve got a roomy 6.7-inch screen that you can snap shut and stick in your pocket. It’s pretty much as simple as that — it’s just that there was a lot of innovation that had to happen in order to get us back to square one with a larger, uninterrupted touchscreen display.

Also of note is the price. Of course, $1,380 isn’t cheap by practically any measure, but that’s a pretty big drop down from the $2,000 Galaxy Fold. The argument that Fold users should have been extra careful with the device given its price point have always struck me as somewhat counter-intuitive. If anything, a device that price ought to have added safeguards built-in.

The Flip has implemented a number of learnings from the earlier product, namely a glass covering, edges hidden beneath (sizable) bezels and an advanced folding mechanism designed to keep dust and debris out. In fact, this time out, the folding mechanism itself is considered a marquee feature. Per Samsung’s press material:

Inspired by a lotus blossom, the Hideaway Hinge is precisely articulated for a satisfying folding motion — even allowing you to adjust the folding angle. Sweeper technology helps repel dirt and dust to keep your folds as smooth as your style.

That’s a marketing way of saying that it’s a lot harder to get crap trapped behind the screen, which could eventually break it. The folding mechanism is, indeed, a nice step up. It feels more robust than the sometimes floppy Fold. You can keep it open at different configurations, like a 90 degree “L” shape for watching videos.

The biggest downside of the more robust mechanism is that it’s harder to flip open with a single hand, owing to resistance, and it doesn’t have as satisfying a snap shut. Those all seem like pretty minor quibbles, to be honest — especially if it means a more robust product. Samsung rates the Z Flip at 200,000 folds — same as the Fold. Of course, in CNET’s testing, the Fold lasted about 120,000 mechanical folds.

Not terrible, and definitely better than the 27,000 or so the Razr made it through. Also, unlike Motorola’s device, the Flip doesn’t make a troubling creaking sound when it opens and shuts. The Razr really does seem awash in first-generation problems. Motorola can’t be pleased that Samsung introduced a competing device with the same form factor soon after its own product and was able to bring it to market roughly a week after the Razr.

I can’t imagine either of these devices will prove huge sellers for their respective manufactures, but if I was Motorola, the Flip would be cause for concern. The Razr went from an exciting new entry in the foldable category to another strike against it when it was released and both consumer and professional reviews began trickling in.

A little bit of the novelty has worn off for Samsung. That’s honestly not a bad thing. By the second generation, the product should no longer be reviewed as a sort of oddity. Instead, it should be regarded as a, you know, phone. And as such, should be subject to the same sort of regular wear any smartphones go through.

In other words, it’s reasonable to expect that it can withstand, say, a hard press from a finger but not necessarily a five-foot drop onto concrete. Again, this is only after a day of use, but so far, so good on that front, at least.

The 21.9×9 aspect ratio is an odd one. The phone is really tall and skinny. Also, the crease is still very noticeable — that much hasn’t changed. But the Flip looks mostly unremarkable when open. I was using it open on the subway ride home and no one seemed to notice (New Yorkers, amiright?). The Fold, on the other hand, drew curious looks every time I used it. If having strangers notice your expensive new phone is an incentive for spending $1,400, then that’s a downside, I suppose.

There haven’t been too many updates to the Android UI to accommodate the new screen paradigm. The biggest change is the ability to have two windows open in a vertical configuration. There’s also Flex model, which is currently limited to a select number of applications. Open, say, the camera app, bend the phone so it holds at a 90-degree angle and the app will adapt. In this case, the view finder moves up, occupying the top half of the screens while the controls take up the bottom. It’s a cool feature, with the device essentially serving as its own kickstand for things like taking selfies or reading the news.

Utilizing it more broadly is going to require more work on Google’s part — and more adoption from app developers. The latter especially is going to depend quite a lot on how many of these devices are actually sold. For now, YouTube is the one pure video app that utilizes it.

That’s fine, honestly, as turning the device to landscape mode and opening it to about 130 degrees is actually an even better way to watch widescreen video. There are a smattering of other tricks here and there. Holding up a palm in selfie-mode, for instance, let’s you snap a photo without touching a button or using voice.

The Flip is the first Samsung device to bake Google’s Duo video calling directly into the UI. It’s a nice choice, too, since the Flex mode is basically built for video calling. Oh, and to answer the question I’ve been asked the most since the Flip was announced: yes, you can end a call by closing the phone. And yes, it is satisfying to give the person on the other end a tactile snap.

The feature is on by default and can be disabled in the settings menu. It won’t work if you have earbuds in, however, because in many cases you’ll want to be using them to chat while the phone is closed in your pocket.

As for the outside, Samsung’s gone decidedly minimalist. The inclusion of an exterior screen was a big selling point on the Fold, but honestly it was too skinny with too small an aspect ratio to do much. The outside of the device has a glossy mirror finish — black in my case. And yeah, it’s a complete fingerprint magnet.

There’s a one-inch display of sorts on the outside of the Flip, but it’s only large enough for small at-a-glance information like battery life and time. It can also show off notifications, but it’s too small to accomplish much without scrolling. If you’ve ever attempted to read a notification on a hybrid smartwatch, the experience is fairly similar.

The little window is actually a touchscreen. A double tap will turn it on, and from there a swipe with show off information like the music you’re listening to. Attempting to click into an app icon for more information on a notification, however, will prompt you to open the phone for more information. Interestingly, the tiny screen also serves as a view finder. Double-clicking the fingerprint reader/power button will fire it up. It’s okay for getting a rough approximation of what you’re shooting (likely yourself), but is pretty useless beyond that.

Samsung’s flagships get a new level of premium, starting at $1,400

And honestly, I think that’s fine. In fact, I would even go so far as to say I think that’s actually a strength. In an era when so many of us are grappling with smartphone use, there’s something to be said for the ability to snap the device shut and disconnect for a bit. You can keep streaming music or listening to podcasts, but when the phone is closed, it’s time to engage with the world around you.

Or not. I’m not going to tell you how to live.

Hey, it’s your $1,400. There are plenty of other ways to spend that much money, of course. You could also pick up the Galaxy S20 Ultra — the mega premium version of Samsung’s latest flagship. For that price, you get the same-old boring form factor, coupled with some crazy high-end specs, including a 5,000 mAh battery, 12GB of RAM and the latest Snapdragon 865, versus the Flip’s 3,300 mAh, 8GB and Snapdragon 855+.

The Ultra also has an extreme edge on cameras, including a 108-megapixel wide angel, 48-megapixel telephoto, 12-megapixel ultra-wide and a time-of-fight sensor for depth. The Flip, meanwhile, sports a 12-megapixel zoom lens and 12-megapixel super-wide. There’s no competition, but Samsung’s breadth of imaging experience makes for a solid experience regardless.

Again, my time with the device has been limited, but so far I’m pretty satisfied with the combination of hardware an software options. The shots look good and have a nice color balance even in low light. I can’t see myself using Single Take too often, but the ability to get multiple different shot options with a single press could certainly prove useful for amateur photographers.

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Perhaps the most notable omission of all is 5G. While it’s true that a number of other companies (*cough* Apple) don’t even offer the option, Samsung introduced a 5G version of the Fold last year (in select markets) and went all in on 5G with the S20 line. It’s clear that the company took feedback over pricing concerns to heart with the Flip. The device is only available in a single configuration, highlighting the gulf between it and the Fold.

Which is to say, it’s still expensive, but that $500 or so makes a difference. So, too, does more robust build and new form factor. I’m recommending you buy the Flip. We’re still very much in the early stages of foldables here. That said, I can wholeheartedly recommend the Flip over the Fold. And while I haven’t really spent time with the Moto Razr, well, that seems like a slam dunk, too. 

Again, if I was Motorola, I would be considering, at very least, a significant price drop. While the Flip likely won’t convince the skeptical that foldables are the future, it should, at very least, be a heartening indication that Samsung is headed in the right direction.

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The Galaxy Z Flip ships with the same “Care Instructions” as the Fold. It’s a five-item list with the following basic points:

Don’t scratch the screen with a pen or fingernail

Don’t stick stuff between the screens when folding

Don’t get it dusty, wet or feed it after midnight

Don’t stick stickers to the screen

Don’t get it near credit cards or your pacemaker

Unlike the last time around, however, these warnings seem to have been included out of an (understandable) abundance of caution. As stated in my hands-on the other day, the Flip feels more solid than the Fold in just about every way, from the folding mechanism to the display, which now sports foldable protective glass.

Samsung Galaxy Z Flip hands-on: This is more like it

A couple of notes before we start here. First, and most importantly, this is a rare 24-hour device loan. Short loan times are not entirely uncommon with high-end products, but a single day is a bit extreme. I’m being upfront about this because:

You can only go into so much depth with limited time.

It’s worth noting what appears to be a bit of caution on Samsung’s part.

My Galaxy Fold display is damaged after a day

This isn’t a case of an early product in limited supply. The Z Flip went on sale today (happy Valentine’s/Sonic the Hedgehog Day to you and yours). If I had to venture a guess, it would be that Samsung is still reeling a bit from fallout from the Fold, which found a number of review devices breaking prior to the product hitting the market.

For all of the downside, however, I would argue that coverage that pushed the company to reinforce the product before actually selling it for $2,000 a pop was ultimately a good things. Besides, as was pointed out to me, most if not all of the faulty Folds went sideways before the 24-hour mark.

See also: the Moto Razr. Reviews of the product have started filtering in a week or so after the product hit the market. Seems the company opted not to give out review units until the product was already available (full transparency: I still haven’t gotten my hands on a review unit). The analogy I keep coming back to is movie reviews. If you don’t see any professional reviews by the time a movie hits theaters, that probably doesn’t bode well for spending $10 of your hard-earned cash.

None of this is an indictment of the Galaxy Z Flip, which so far is proving to be a pretty solid device. It’s more a comment on the optics of it all. Give than the handset is roughly the same price as 150 movies, reviews are all that much more valuable to consumers — many of whom are understandably wary after the category’s rocky start.

It’s a shame, because I’ve been enjoying my time with the Galaxy Z Flip. In many ways, this is exactly the device Samsung’s original foldable should have been. For starters, the form factor just makes more sense. The “why” of the Fold was significantly more difficult to explain to those outside the industry (and frankly, many of those inside it, as well).

Anyone who’s ever used a clamshell phone, on the other hand, will immediately get the Flip. You’ve got a roomy 6.7-inch screen that you can snap shut and stick in your pocket. It’s pretty much as simple as that — it’s just that there was a lot of innovation that had to happen in order to get us back to square one with a larger, uninterrupted touchscreen display.

Also of note is the price. Of course, $1,380 isn’t cheap by practically any measure, but that’s a pretty big drop down from the $2,000 Galaxy Fold. The argument that Fold users should have been extra careful with the device given its price point have always struck me as somewhat counter-intuitive. If anything, a device that price ought to have added safeguards built-in.

The Flip has implemented a number of learnings from the earlier product, namely a glass covering, edges hidden beneath (sizable) bezels and an advanced folding mechanism designed to keep dust and debris out. In fact, this time out, the folding mechanism itself is considered a marquee feature. Per Samsung’s press material:

Inspired by a lotus blossom, the Hideaway Hinge is precisely articulated for a satisfying folding motion — even allowing you to adjust the folding angle. Sweeper technology helps repel dirt and dust to keep your folds as smooth as your style.

That’s a marketing way of saying that it’s a lot harder to get crap trapped behind the screen, which could eventually break it. The folding mechanism is, indeed, a nice step up. It feels more robust than the sometimes floppy Fold. You can keep it open at different configurations, like a 90 degree “L” shape for watching videos.

The biggest downside of the more robust mechanism is that it’s harder to flip open with a single hand, owing to resistance, and it doesn’t have as satisfying a snap shut. Those all seem like pretty minor quibbles, to be honest — especially if it means a more robust product. Samsung rates the Z Flip at 200,000 folds — same as the Fold. Of course, in CNET’s testing, the Fold lasted about 120,000 mechanical folds.

Not terrible, and definitely better than the 27,000 or so the Razr made it through. Also, unlike Motorola’s device, the Flip doesn’t make a troubling creaking sound when it opens and shuts. The Razr really does seem awash in first-generation problems. Motorola can’t be pleased that Samsung introduced a competing device with the same form factor soon after its own product and was able to bring it to market roughly a week after the Razr.

I can’t imagine either of these devices will prove huge sellers for their respective manufactures, but if I was Motorola, the Flip would be cause for concern. The Razr went from an exciting new entry in the foldable category to another strike against it when it was released and both consumer and professional reviews began trickling in.

A little bit of the novelty has worn off for Samsung. That’s honestly not a bad thing. By the second generation, the product should no longer be reviewed as a sort of oddity. Instead, it should be regarded as a, you know, phone. And as such, should be subject to the same sort of regular wear any smartphones go through.

In other words, it’s reasonable to expect that it can withstand, say, a hard press from a finger but not necessarily a five-foot drop onto concrete. Again, this is only after a day of use, but so far, so good on that front, at least.

The 21.9×9 aspect ratio is an odd one. The phone is really tall and skinny. Also, the crease is still very noticeable — that much hasn’t changed. But the Flip looks mostly unremarkable when open. I was using it open on the subway ride home and no one seemed to notice (New Yorkers, amiright?). The Fold, on the other hand, drew curious looks every time I used it. If having strangers notice your expensive new phone is an incentive for spending $1,400, then that’s a downside, I suppose.

There haven’t been too many updates to the Android UI to accommodate the new screen paradigm. The biggest change is the ability to have two windows open in a vertical configuration. There’s also Flex model, which is currently limited to a select number of applications. Open, say, the camera app, bend the phone so it holds at a 90-degree angle and the app will adapt. In this case, the view finder moves up, occupying the top half of the screens while the controls take up the bottom. It’s a cool feature, with the device essentially serving as its own kickstand for things like taking selfies or reading the news.

Utilizing it more broadly is going to require more work on Google’s part — and more adoption from app developers. The latter especially is going to depend quite a lot on how many of these devices are actually sold. For now, YouTube is the one pure video app that utilizes it.

That’s fine, honestly, as turning the device to landscape mode and opening it to about 130 degrees is actually an even better way to watch widescreen video. There are a smattering of other tricks here and there. Holding up a palm in selfie-mode, for instance, let’s you snap a photo without touching a button or using voice.

The Flip is the first Samsung device to bake Google’s Duo video calling directly into the UI. It’s a nice choice, too, since the Flex mode is basically built for video calling. Oh, and to answer the question I’ve been asked the most since the Flip was announced: yes, you can end a call by closing the phone. And yes, it is satisfying to give the person on the other end a tactile snap.

The feature is on by default and can be disabled in the settings menu. It won’t work if you have earbuds in, however, because in many cases you’ll want to be using them to chat while the phone is closed in your pocket.

As for the outside, Samsung’s gone decidedly minimalist. The inclusion of an exterior screen was a big selling point on the Fold, but honestly it was too skinny with too small an aspect ratio to do much. The outside of the device has a glossy mirror finish — black in my case. And yeah, it’s a complete fingerprint magnet.

There’s a one-inch display of sorts on the outside of the Flip, but it’s only large enough for small at-a-glance information like battery life and time. It can also show off notifications, but it’s too small to accomplish much without scrolling. If you’ve ever attempted to read a notification on a hybrid smartwatch, the experience is fairly similar.

The little window is actually a touchscreen. A double tap will turn it on, and from there a swipe with show off information like the music you’re listening to. Attempting to click into an app icon for more information on a notification, however, will prompt you to open the phone for more information. Interestingly, the tiny screen also serves as a view finder. Double-clicking the fingerprint reader/power button will fire it up. It’s okay for getting a rough approximation of what you’re shooting (likely yourself), but is pretty useless beyond that.

Samsung’s flagships get a new level of premium, starting at $1,400

And honestly, I think that’s fine. In fact, I would even go so far as to say I think that’s actually a strength. In an era when so many of us are grappling with smartphone use, there’s something to be said for the ability to snap the device shut and disconnect for a bit. You can keep streaming music or listening to podcasts, but when the phone is closed, it’s time to engage with the world around you.

Or not. I’m not going to tell you how to live.

Hey, it’s your $1,400. There are plenty of other ways to spend that much money, of course. You could also pick up the Galaxy S20 Ultra — the mega premium version of Samsung’s latest flagship. For that price, you get the same-old boring form factor, coupled with some crazy high-end specs, including a 5,000 mAh battery, 12GB of RAM and the latest Snapdragon 865, versus the Flip’s 3,300 mAh, 8GB and Snapdragon 855+.

The Ultra also has an extreme edge on cameras, including a 108-megapixel wide angel, 48-megapixel telephoto, 12-megapixel ultra-wide and a time-of-fight sensor for depth. The Flip, meanwhile, sports a 12-megapixel zoom lens and 12-megapixel super-wide. There’s no competition, but Samsung’s breadth of imaging experience makes for a solid experience regardless.

Again, my time with the device has been limited, but so far I’m pretty satisfied with the combination of hardware an software options. The shots look good and have a nice color balance even in low light. I can’t see myself using Single Take too often, but the ability to get multiple different shot options with a single press could certainly prove useful for amateur photographers.

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Perhaps the most notable omission of all is 5G. While it’s true that a number of other companies (*cough* Apple) don’t even offer the option, Samsung introduced a 5G version of the Fold last year (in select markets) and went all in on 5G with the S20 line. It’s clear that the company took feedback over pricing concerns to heart with the Flip. The device is only available in a single configuration, highlighting the gulf between it and the Fold.

Which is to say, it’s still expensive, but that $500 or so makes a difference. So, too, does more robust build and new form factor. I’m recommending you buy the Flip. We’re still very much in the early stages of foldables here. That said, I can wholeheartedly recommend the Flip over the Fold. And while I haven’t really spent time with the Moto Razr, well, that seems like a slam dunk, too. 

Again, if I was Motorola, I would be considering, at very least, a significant price drop. While the Flip likely won’t convince the skeptical that foldables are the future, it should, at very least, be a heartening indication that Samsung is headed in the right direction.

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