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lilydalexf · 4 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made. I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years. We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends. It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media. I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs! When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’ We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her. I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones. Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it? You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable. Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was. What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her. Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible). Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative. I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).

Really, RivkaT? A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy. I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either. It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued. I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic. Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.” And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #mustangsally

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i-lionheart · 3 years

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Here for You | Loki x Reader fluff

"There are moments that the words don't reach. There's a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand; we push away the unimaginable." -Hamilton, "It's Quiet Uptown"

After an emotional night, Loki's partner leaves her Avengers Tower apartment, showing up in need of comfort at Loki's door.

before you read: loki x reader, 1.5k words, reader is afab nonbinary, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, partial nudity (non-sexual), cuddling/spooning, discussion of gender dysphoria, period mention, body dysphoria, discussion of depression, suicidal thoughts, and self harm.

tw: gender dysphoria, period mention, partial nudity (non-sexual), depression mention, suicidal thoughts, self harm mention. @ me if there's anything I forgot.

You padded down the hallway, clutching the stuffed animal and baby blanket that had protected you from your demons since you were a child. Since your apartments were right next to each other, it was only a short distance to Loki's door; when you reached it, you knocked quickly and stood there, anxiously chewing your the inside of your cheek as you waited.

You heard his heavy footsteps crossing the apartment. Though his voice was muffled by the door separating the two of you, the annoyance was unmistakable. "Thor, I told you, I'm-"

He opened the door. His words cut off abruptly as he realized that it wasn't, in fact, his older brother bothering him in the middle of the night. His heart and facial expression melted as he looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. You stared back at him nervously, unable to verbally express what you needed from him now that he was actually standing in front of you.

Luckily, you didn't have to.

In a heartbeat, Loki had crossed the threshold of his apartment, pulling you into a tight embrace. He pressed your head to his chest and you melted into him, the tears that had escaped you all night finally beginning to flow. "It's all right, darling," he murmured. "It's all right. I'm here now. It's all right."

The two of you stood there for a moment that felt like an eternity, your entire world reduced to the feeling of being in each others' arms, Loki caressing you and whispering soft reassurances. Once the waterfall of your tears had slowed to a mere trickle, Loki said, "All right. You're coming inside." He bent down and hooked one arm under your knees, lifting you into his arms as easily as if you were a child. You squeaked in surprise and buried your head in his chest, eliciting a small chuckle from the trickster god as he carried you into his apartment and eased the door shut behind you. He didn't put you down until the two of you were in his bedroom, when he pulled back the soft covers of his king-size bed and set you gently on the gold satin sheets. He climbed in beside you and pulled the covers up around you both, once again pulling you to his chest.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen."

"It's my stupid period," you grumbled into his chest.

"What?" he said. "I thought you haven't had one for months now - didn't Strange get that sorted?"

"Yeah, but the hormones are still a fucking roller coaster."

"You mortals and your pesky bodies," he muttered into your hair. You couldn't help but giggle, despite your sadness. "What is it doing to you this time, darling?'

"Gender," you grumbled. "I'm fine with my body. I like my body. Or at least, most of the time I do, and then my hormones go insane and I hate it."

"Wishing you were a shapeshifter again, hmm?" Loki said. You nodded. "If I could give up my powers to you I'd do it in a heartbeat, dearest." You chuckled, in spite of yourself. "Thanks, babe."

"No problem," he replied. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a moment, glad to just be in each other's presence. He caressed you gently - your hair, your arms, your back - then paused in confusion when he felt a seam under your shirt. He had never known you to wear a bra under your pajamas, especially given how much you hated to wear them during the day.

"Darling?" he asked, cautiously.

"Hmm?"

"Are you binding right now?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, I-"

"No, it's not," he cut you off sternly. "You know you're not supposed to. It's unsafe."

"Since when do you care about safety?"

"Since you tried to sleep in a binder. Sit up. It's coming off."

"Loki, really-"

"Now. You could do with some skin to skin anyways." His tone left no room for argument. Grudgingly, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, as did he.

"Arms up," he commanded. You rolled your eyes and did as he said, feeling like a toddler who needed their parents' help to get dressed. He lifted your shirt and gently pulled it over your head, then gathered it into a ball and tossed it on his floor. He removed your binder equally gently, careful not let the elastic snap or pinch, and tossed it on the floor on top of your shirt.

"Satisfied?" you said sarcastically.

"Not quite yet." He grasped the collar of the black t-shirt he was wearing and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, adding it to the pile of clothing on his floor.

Though you had seen it a thousand times, you took in the sight of his chest, drinking in every inch of his skin. He caught your eye as you stared at him, and grinned. You blushed. "See something you like, pet?" he teased.

"Oh, shut up," you retorted as the two of you laid back down, snuggling into him again. He was right - the feeling of his skin, his strong arms wrapped around you, was incredibly soothing.

"I needed this," you murmured.

"I know."

A pause.

"I hate this body so much, sometimes. Like, I'm mostly okay with it, even proud of it, and then..."

You trailed off. He stroked your hair, whispering into it. "Take your time, love, it's all right."

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and continued shakily. "It's just... sometimes, I look in the mirror, and I look at my face, and I feel so happy - my reflection matches who I am, I look like myself - and then I see my body and I remember and I just..." You swallowed thickly, fighting back tears. "I just want to die, sometimes. I wish I didn't have to exist and face every day in a body that's not mine, I want to hurt it, scar it, make it bleed. Anything to show that it doesn't belong to me, to make it pay. I hate it. And I know I shouldn't hurt myself, I know I gave that up a long time ago, but that urge never leaves. I hate it, I hate it so much. I know it's not right, but that voice never goes away, it just gets quiet enough to ignore until the next time something triggers it and I have to fight it again. It never stops, Loki. Never." Your tears were flowing freely now. You took a shuddering breath. "I'm just so, so tired of always fighting. I want peace. But I don't think I'll ever have it."

"Oh, pet." he said softly. "How long were you feeling like this before you came to get me?"

"Hours," you admitted, feeling small.

"Oh, darling," he said. You heard the pain in his voice, and knew that what he really meant was I'm sorry.

"It's going to be okay," he said, voice ever so tender, tracing wandering patterns on your skin. "I know it's hard, but you are strong. You are a fighter, and you will make it through this. I promise you. And I will do everything I can to help."

"Really?"

"Really, dearest. You never have to face this alone again. I'm right by your side. In fact, this settles it. You're moving in with me. Tomorrow."

"What?" You pulled away from him, startled, and looked up to see dead seriousness on his face.

"What about it, pet? You practically live here already."

"Loki, the others can barely accept the fact that we're together. We can't move in together. Tony will have a heart attack."

Loki grinned wickedly. "Good."

You slapped his arm playfully, scolding him. "No, it's not good. If Tony had a heart attack, the arc reactor would probably flatten half of Manhattan." He chuckled appreciatively. "Why's it so pressing for me to move in, anyway? Most days you hardly spend a second without me."

He paused, giving you a long, searching look. "Isn't it obvious?

"No." You looked away, avoiding the discomfort of his scrutiny.

"Look at me." You didn't move. He reached out and cupped your face in his large hand, lifting your chin. "Look at me, dearest," he repeated, softer this time. You tore your eyes away from the empty space you had fixed them on and looked at him, afraid of what you'd see. He looked back at you tenderly, eyes full of compassion and the thing you had been most afraid of seeing.

Love. His eyes were full of love.

"You spent an unnecessarily long time tonight fighting this alone, because I wasn't with you. I wasn't there to help you when you needed me." He stroked your cheek with his thumb, voice tight with emotion. "I cannot let that happen again."

"Loki," you breathed. "You care that much?"

"Oh, darling, of course I do," he said. "Of course I do. And I promise that you will never have to face these thoughts alone again."

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging so this work can find other people who might enjoy it!

#ask to tag #tw/cw - read descrip before reading #loki x reader #loki x you #loki imagine #loki (marvel)#mcu loki #fluff #tw sui mention #tw sh mention #tw depression #tw periods #tw dysphoria #tw gender dysphoria #tw gender confusion #tw nudity #cuddling #spooning

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storygirl000 · 5 years

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ML Fic: Wait, you’re related to who now?

A/N: I very much blame @virgil-is-a-cutie, @ineedspellcheck, @justafanwarrior, @unmaskedagain, and everyone else who contributed to this thread.

Feel free to ask about the various relations!

Ao3 link here.

EDIT: I’m an idiot. Kim’s Vietnamese, not Korean. I’ve fixed it so he’s related to Karma of the New Mutants instead of Kid Flash.

00000

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Lila Rossi!”

Lila looked over the kids in front of her, thinking over what she would tell them.

She’d already discarded most of the obvious lies in her head – seriously, anyone with Google could disprove them, and no one could be stupid enough to take them at face value – and was sorting through what she had left.

Finally, she decided to settle on something simple.

“It’s so nice to meet you all!” she said, giving her most sincere-looking smile. “Honestly, I haven’t been this excited since I found out I was related to-”

She quickly shut her mouth. “Oh, but I can’t say!”

“Related to who?” a small, chubby girl with her hair in multicolored braids asked.

Lila internally smirked. Oh, this was going to be too easy.

“Well, I’m not supposed to tell anyone about it,” she said, “but I’m actually related to someone famous!”

She expected the class to start ooh-ing and aah-ing over her supposed heritage.

She did not expect someone to say “Oh! You, too?”

Lila’s eyes widened, and she turned to the person who’d spoked – a bespectacled girl with red-brown hair and hazel eyes.

“What?” she asked.

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much every person in our class is related to someone famous in one way or another – mostly superheroes. My cousin is Gambit – the X-Man? Yeah, I don’t know how that works either, but apparently one of his relatives moved to Martinique, met my grandpa, and it all went down from there.”

Okay, clearly this girl was pulling her leg. Lila opened her mouth to speak-

“My dad’s Aquaman!” the dark-skinned boy sitting in front of her said. “He’s not really the most attentive dad, though, so my brother and I live by ourselves most of the time.”

“Prove it,” Lila said before she could stop herself.

The boy shrugged, then turned to his blond seatmate. “Mind if I use your water bottle, Adrien?”

Adrien nodded and opened it up before passing it to him.

The boy held his hand out, concentrating on the bottle. After a couple of seconds, a spiral of water streamed out of it.

“Oh, you’re getting better at this, Nino!” the girl cheered.

“Thanks, Alya!” Nino replied.

Lila could only stare, open-mouthed, at the scene in front of her.

Eventually, Nino let the water go back into the bottle, and Adrien spoke up.

“I guess technically I have two famous dads?” he said. “Like, the guy who raised me for most of my life is Gabriel Agreste, but I was the result of my mom having an affair with Oliver Queen.”

Alya nodded, then pointed to a blonde-haired girl and a red-haired girl. “Chloe over there’s the daughter of Harley Quinn, and Sabrina’s the half-sister of Batgirl.”

Chloe snorted. “Honestly, even with her insanity, she’s still a better parent than my stepmom.”

“And she means the retired Batgirl,” Sabrina added helpfully.

“Nathaniel back there’s the son of Poison Ivy,” Alya continued, pointing to the redhead in the back.

Nathaniel snorted. “And yes, that makes me Chloe’s stepbrother. I’m not proud of it, either.”

“Screw you too, Kurtzberg!” Chloe retorted.

“Oh! I’m the daughter of Captain America!” a tiny blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl spoke up.

“I’m half-sisters with Raven of the Teen Titans, and my half-brother’s the son of the Winter Soldier,” the black-haired girl next to her added. “Before you ask, my mom’s never made a sane decision in her life.”

“My dad’s Loki,” the pink-haired girl in the back stated. “My uncle has been smothering me as much as he can ever since he found out.”

“You mean Thor?” Lila asked, the first words she’d spoken since Nino had demonstrated his powers. Her mouth felt dry.

The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Who else would it be?”

“I happen to be the cousin of the current ruler of Wakanda,” a black, bespectacled boy stated.

“My cousin lead one of the X-Men teams for awhile!” the Vietnamese boy sitting next to him added.

“Um, my uncle turned out to be Bruce Banner,” the chubby girl said.

“Turned out my dad was Blue Beetle,” the large boy next to her added.

Finally, a story Lila could immediately poke holes in. “Blue Beetle? You mean-”

“The old one,” he interrupted her. “The one that...”

He didn’t speak after that, but the chubby girl put her hands on his and the rest of the class gave him sympathetic glances, leaving Lila to connect the dots.

After a few seconds, Alya cleared her throat. “And that’s just everyone who’s here right now. My best friend is actually one of Bruce Wayne’s kids, and we have a couple of friends in other classes who’re in the same boat.”

“My boyfriend’s actually one of Tony Stark’s illegitimate sons,” Nathaniel said.

“And my girlfriend is one of Wolverine’s!” Chloe bragged.

Alya turned back to Lila. “So who are you related to?”

Lila blinked.

00000

“She got akumatized how?” Marinette asked.

Alya shrugged. “Heck if I know. I just asked her who she was related to, and she started screaming. Next thing I know, she’s Volpina.” She frowned. “Though if her admitting she lied about that has anything to do with it, she might have just been blindsided by how weird our class actually is.”

Marinette snapped her fingers. “Oh! That reminds me, I need to see if Ivan can get in contact with Booster Gold. My dad wants to talk to him.”

“He pranked one of your brothers again?” Alya asked.

Marinette nodded. “Replaced all of Jason’s guns with their Nerf equivalents. We have no idea where he hid them.”

Alya laughed, and the two girls headed off.

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #crack fic #minor lila salt

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personalfandompastastrainer · 3 years

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I AM NOT A ROBOT: A SHORT RIDICULOUS LOKI FIC ABOUT HIM HAVING AN IDENTITY CRISIS I WROTE INSTEAD OF DOING MY HW

Loki sighed and stared at his computer helplessly. He'd been trying to get in the website for hours. Made a password and everything. He was just stuck on the final step.

It was stupid, really. All he had to do was check a pathetically small box. Then he could move on and buy up all the stock of black nail polish Amazon had to offer. But first, the box.

He got up from his chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. It's exhausting, having a existential crisis while staring into the void of your computer screen. He was thirsty, so he went into the kitchen and made himself some coffee. As dark as possible. After it had brewed, he blew on the cup gently. Then he took a sip.

And spewed the nastiness everywhere. He'd protested at first when Thor had offered to add some sugar to the coffee, but now he understood. He walked over to the sugar container and literally dumped a shit ton into his cup, then stirred vigorously. He blew on it again and took another sip.

And slammed his mug ferociously into the counter. Now, it was too sweet. He went to the sink and dumped the contents down it, disgusted with not only the coffee, but himself. What kind of god doesn't know how to make decent coffee?

He walked back into his room, but the stupid screen was still there waiting for him. It was almost ominous, as he had turned all the other lights off, and only the glow of the laptop could be seen.

"Screw this." He muttered, and vanished into thin air.

He appeared at what looked to be a coffee shop. It had green letters that read "Starbucks."

He stormed into the store, startling a poor college student, who's coffee spilled over the floor. He ignored it.

"I am Loki, of Asgard." He announced, to everyone in the room. "And I am burdened with a serious need of caffeine." (I'm sorry this line is a literal joke but I just HAD TO)

Recovering from her previous state of shock, the barista smiled at this highly intimidating, clearly high off of his ass man.

"I'd suggest a hazelnut venti with whip cream." She said politely. (Plz excuse my coffee talk, I literally don't drink it ever so)

"Sounds perfect." Loki said.

"That'll be $7.99." She said, looking up expectantly.

Loki just stared at her until he realized. He began patting different pockets. Then he looked up, trying to hide the fact that he clearly had no money on him.

"I'm sorry, mortal." He said, plastering a nice smile on his face. "I'm afraid I left your form of currency at home."

"Well, we take credit or debit as well."

Loki conjured the card in his hand, and pretended to pull it out of his pocket. He handed it to her.

She swiped it.

"Name for the order is Loki, I assume?" She asked.

"Yes, weren't you-" Loki sighed. "Nevermind."

"We'll have that right out for you." She said.

Loki moved to sit at one of the tables, and waited. He suddenly noticed a little girl staring at him.

"What exactly are you looking at?" He asked her, annoyed.

She didn't respond. He realized that she might be too young to form words.

The mother noticed her child staring, and grabbed her.

"Sorry about that." She said. "Lucy's a curious little one. Only three."

Loki relaxed a little. "No harm done." He replied.

They sat in silence, until Loki's order was called. He rose to get it, then started walking out. But something stopped him. He turned and walked back to the table with the mom and Lucy.

"Do you think that I'm a robot?" He asked, completely out of the blue.

The mother looked slightly surprised, but decided to take the question seriously. Maybe it was because she had children.

Loki was getting anxious, almost wanted to walk away, but her smile stopped him.

"You look human to me." She told him.

He nodded awkwardly and left the Starbucks. He sipped it. Still to sweet, but that mattered less to him now.

****

Later that day, Loki pulled up the screen and clicked on the box. A green checkmark appeared.

I am not a robot.

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Green

TITLE: Green CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki getting offended because he has been forced to share a loved one’s attention with… Baby Groot.

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: Honestly, this is such a stupid concept, but it flashed into my mind and made me laugh so damn hard that I had to write it. Language! Yelling and subsequently apologizing to a child. Punching. Severe timeline issues (who gives a crap that this doesn’t make sense? I did it for the lol’s).

SUMMARY: Loki is not used to having friends. Loki is not used to sharing friends. Loki is just a soft boi. That’s it. That’s the fic.

But, seriously, apologize to kids when you do something wrong.

Loki deepened the lines of his frown into a more intimidating scowl. The expression seemed to do little to sway the enthusiasm of the little twig, barely out of his flowering pot, as he clambered on the couch and gurgled his words.

“I am Groot,” said the little one, scaling up Loki’s trousers to tug at the casual green tunic, hoping to get the demigod’s attention. “Groooooot. I am Groot.”

“No,” Loki snapped, making the tree cower back just the slightest. “I am not in the mood to play. Now, get lost.”

“Groot?”

“If I fetch you your glass of water will you leave me alone?”

The tree nodded, eyes wide and bright as he stared at Loki with rapt fascination while he conjured a cup of water. The enthusiastic, wooden applause he received for such a feat was even more endearing, but Loki would not allow himself to dwell on the cuteness of this… this manipulating thief.

Loki had began his week much like everyone else at the Tower had.

The team piled into one of the conference rooms where they were met with a talking raccoon and a green-tinged woman who hastily left the seedling in their care, claiming they were off to a battle they couldn’t take him along for. Everyone had cooed and aww'ed at the little ceiba tree who waved enthusiastically and giggled his one phrase at the attention. Loki thought the little one was rather cute, and being versed in All-Speak meant that he could easily understand what the child was saying, and he didn’t seem particularly irritating. He would even admit that he sort of looked forward to spending time with someone who did not stare at him as though he were a plague.

It wasn’t until his carers had left that problems truly began.

Lily had skidded into the conference room fifteen minutes later in her familiar fashion of being tragically late to everything. Her cheeks rosy from having jogged five floors up to get to them, but her blue doe eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Stark had likely sent her a text to inform her of their new, temporary ward, and Lily being Lily… well, the woman seldom let an opportunity to interact with plants pass her by. Her face split into a brilliant smile as she bent over just enough to be eye-level with the little tree on the table.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she cooed, offering her hand to him.

Groot had gripped her index finger with his fist and her veins sparked green at the contact. He gasped excitedly at the change. “I am Groot!”

“Aw, you’re so sweet. I’m happy you’re here, too. Do you want to go play upstairs?” The tree nodded effusively and jumped straight into her waiting arms. Lily had barely glanced in Loki’s direction as she left.

Now, Loki was a creature of habit. It wasn’t that he was irritated that Lily was spending every waking moment with the creature or that she used such a soft and soothing voice to talk to him. It wasn’t even that she so easily gave the seedling little nuggets of affection that were just a little sweeter than what she afforded anyone else… No, it was that his perfectly crafted routine was thrown for a loop. That was all.

A gasp broke Loki from his reverie.

“Groot!”

Loki growled as more than half of the contents of the cup he had just given the child flooded his lap. Groot looked more than apologetic, that childlike worry flooding his features before quietly apologizing again. That didn’t deter the annoyance from the past few days from bubbling over inside of Loki. His rage worked to disguise whatever other emotion he was trying to suppress.

“All you had to do was sit still. How bloody hard is that to do!?”

The child’s lower lip trembled. “I-I am Groot–”

“Loki!” Cold fear doused the god of mischief’s spine at the voice. “I was barely gone for three minutes. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. He spilled water on me–”

Lily’s attention was already diverted away from him as she kneeled in front of the tree and tried to pacify him. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry!” Groot managed to fit a few words between little hiccupping sobs. “No, Loki doesn’t hate you. Why would Loki hate a tiny little sapling?” The last of the question was hissed with a dark scowl thrown over her shoulder in Loki’s direction. “No. He just has a tummy ache and it’s making him a little testy. In fact, he and I are going to go to the hallway so I can give him his medicine. OK?”

Groot nodded reluctantly, wiping at his eyes with still-green fingers.

Lily beamed at the tree and stroked away the tear tracks on his cheeks before rising to her full height. Without even looking back, she grabbed Loki by the scruff of his jumper all but dragged him behind her to the empty hall.

“Now, before you start yelling at–oof”

Loki doubled over as he hugged his stomach. For such a small, slight creature, Lily could definitely pack one hell of a punch. When he managed to wrench his eyes open, there was green fading from her veins and she was shaking out her left fist which looked suspiciously like a tree stump for a moment.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“He was being a bother and a brat–”

“He’s a sapling, Loki. A baby. Babies drop things. His hands are the size of an acorn, what the fuck do you expect?” Loki had enough sense not to reply, instead choosing to take great interest in his shoes in a sheepish manner. “Why the hell do you hate him? Did trees do you some great harm? Is keeping you alive by giving you oxygen such a great fucking burden on you?”

Loki scoffed. “Yes, yes. It’s always me. I’m always wrong. I’ll go up to my rooms and you don’t have to hear from me again, if it’s such a bother! I’m sure you’ll have much more fun with–” He snapped his jaw shut at once, his mouth having run just a little further than he would have liked.

“Are you jealous? Is all of this just because your stupid ass is jealous?”

“Well, you certainly like him more than me–”

“He’s a talking tree, Loki. I am a plant mutant. Of course I was curious how our connection would work. Also, and I cannot stress this enough, he’s a baby who needs to be watched and we’re the only ones who speak his language!”

Lily swallowed the remainder of her rant at the sight of Loki blinking rapidly to keep his green eyes from overflowing with tears. She sighed, releasing whatever tension she had locked in her shoulders with an exhale. This was about so much more than just Groot tagging along for the week, she knew. Her hands reached for and gripped at his charcoal jumper, her touch more gentler than a second before. With a light tug, she brought him close and wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head on his chest. It took a moment for Loki to realize he was safe and return the hug.

“You’re still my favorite person, Loki,” she admitted, vaguely feeling him nod and rest his cheek on her crown. “I am capable of taking care of Groot and still have you be my best friend. I’m complex that way,” she joked.

“I was being stupid, I know,” he whispered. “I yelled at him. He’s only a child.”

“Yeah, but you can go apologize and mean it.” Loki nodded once more and Lily released him. She gestured back the direction they came from and silently ordered him to go apologize.

Loki swallowed whatever pride he had left rattling inside his chest and marched back into the lounge. With a sigh, Loki kneeled in front of the sofa, his frame relaxed and every trace of ever being cross forgotten from his features. Groot glanced up wearily at the Prince, fidgeting slightly in his seat.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper, little one. I wasn’t feeling well–not that that gives me any excuse. I should not have done it and I hope you can forgive me.”

“I am Groot?” The sapling’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Something hurt inside Loki’s chest and he knew he would be feeling the brunt of guilt for a long time to come. “No, Groot. You did not do anything wrong. It was all my fault. I apologize.”

Groot nodded, but still looked uncomfortable.

Loki worked his hands in a circular motion until there was a clear orb suspended between them. The orb undulated and splashed in place–water kept in place by magic. Gripping it lightly between his thumb and index, his held it out to the tree.

“Here. This way, if you drop your water, it won’t spill and you can carry it a little easier.”

“Groot!” Flexible little branches closed around the orb and brought it up to wooden lips for a sip. After a moment the sapling laughed and chattered away about the wonder of the orb and Loki found himself unexpectedly puffing up with pride.

From the doorway, Lily knocked lightly on the frame, prompting them both to turn their attentions toward her. A small, knowing smile barely pulled at the corners of her mouth as she watched Groot clamber over onto Loki and hold onto his neck.

“Do you want to show Loki the flowers you grew?”

“I am Groot! I am Groot!”

“OK. Let’s go then,” she settled, waiting for Loki to join her at the doorway.

As they walked together towards the garden, Lily searched for Loki’s hand and gave it a warm squeeze. His half-startled, half-hopeful gaze lingered on her until she reluctantly let him go to open the double doors to the indoor garden and his senses flooded with fresh, vibrant rainbow hues, instead. Perhaps there were better colors than envy green.

#Loki #Others #Submitted one shot #submission #green #fanfictrashdump

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aurorawest · 3 years

Note

Hi! I’d love for a directors commentary on the real Asgardians of the galaxy, any section you choose, it’s my favourite story! Also I was wondering if you could do a commentary on chapter 7 of you come to me wild and wired please? Thank you!

Of course, thank you for asking! I’m so glad you like The Real Asgardians! 😄 I went with this section from chapter 25. Loki, Thor, and Mira have stopped on the Market Planet (aka Promachos), a place entirely of my own invention. Promachos is a planet that’s one giant, sprawling market. The section that the three of them visit looks very much like a souk in my head—I was definitely imagining the Arab Souk in Jerusalem as I was writing it. But you know, think the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, that sort of thing. Old, ancient feeling, labyrinthine covered market where it feels like you can get everything that’s ever existed.

In this conversation, Loki and Thor are having a nice conversation that turns sour, as they so often do.

“You know,” Thor said, the heavy-handed nonchalance in his voice sending up red flags, “that’s something New Asgard doesn’t have.”

“Children?” Loki said, playing dumb and immediately regretting it.

Not really a reference, but this line has always reminded me of the exchange in Jurassic Park between Grant and Satler: “What are those?” “Small versions of adults, honey.”

Thanos hadn’t discriminated. He’d slaughtered Asgard’s children as easily as he had the adults.

Womp womp. Seriously though, one of my favorite things to write with Loki is how he absolutely careens from one emotional end of the spectrum to the other. He makes this joke and he immediately jumps to the worst possible interpretation of it.

At least they’d managed to evacuate most of them, though Loki would never forgive himself for allowing a single Asgardian to die that day.

I recently had to put an exact number to how many children survived The Statesman. At this point I definitely was like, ‘eh, no idea!’

“No,” Thor said. “A school.”

“Mm.” Loki was getting increasingly worried that Mira was going to turn around and ask for the necklace. “What do they do, make repairs in the fishing nets because their fingers are smaller?”

This is one of my favorite jokes, actually. Loki is such an ass. There’s so much contempt packed into this sentence.

But more beyond that, his disdain for New Asgard is really important to his arc. We really see him lash out about it in this scene.

Thor glared at him. “No. They go to school. There just isn’t one in New Asgard.”

It couldn’t be overstated how uninterested Loki was in the education policies of New Asgard. Yes, his people lived there, but he had no personal stake or interest in the place. “Where do they go, then?”

Incidentally, I chose this scene because it seems kind of like a throwaway scene, like it’s more to express Loki’s distaste for New Asgard. And it is that...but it’s also got payoff down the line.

Uncertainty flickered over Thor’s face. “They go…I…er. I’m not exactly sure.” Loki didn’t push this issue. It was easy to imagine what had happened, anyway. The children would have been running wild in the months after the Snap. Brunnhilde, ruling New Asgard in all but name, would have gone to Thor, drunk, useless, drowning in depression and grief, and said something needed to be done, and he was the king, so what should they do? And Thor most likely would have slurred at her to figure it out. [...]

“I think they go to school in Tønsberg somewhere,” Thor finally said.

Thor kills me here. He’s pushing down every single bit of his regret and guilt. And Loki doesn’t get it at all. All he can do is snipe at Thor for screwing this up, for not taking charge, for not being the king that Loki thinks he should be. I’m actually enormously proud of “I think they go to school in Tønsberg somewhere,” because it says nothing...and also everything. Or at least, I hope it does.

Arching an eyebrow again, Loki said, “Oh. I see. So you’re raising humans.”

Loki gets none of this. All he can see is how much he doesn’t want to live on Earth, how much he doesn’t like New Asgard. He can’t fathom why the Asgardians would want to be there. It never occurs to him to stop and think about the fact that the Asgardians have been part of this community for six years. That they aren’t totally isolated from Norway or Earth. In Loki’s mind, New Asgard is like...kind of temporary? He can’t accept that it might be permanent.

“No,” Thor said, making a face as though this was the most stupid thing he’d heard in his whole life. “We’re not raising humans, I mean—not that I have a problem with humans, I love humans—”

Sometimes a little too much...but not in a creepy way, in a respectful way...

“As you’ve demonstrated,” Loki muttered, rolling his eyes. Not that he should talk.

Loki is consciously thinking of alt!Strange here, but of course...gosh he spent nine months living at the Sanctum and maybe he got close to one of its occupants...

“The point is,” Thor said, dropping all pretense of subtlety, “you’ve got some experience with it, and you should come back and—”

Thor takes a massive risk here and straight up asks Loki to come back to New Asgard. Not only that, but he’s asking Loki to come back to New Asgard and...open a school? This is the sort of thing that should thrill Loki. Thor is asking him to stick around! Thor is telling Loki that he wants him in New Asgard. And Loki...

Loki’s glare was poisonous enough that Thor took a step back. “No,” he hissed. “I will not.”

Loki doesn’t take kindly to it. Instead of seeing this moment for what it is, which is Thor reaching out to him, all Loki can see is this like, blaring red warning that he’s going to end up as something he Doesn’t Want To Be. And he doesn’t even really know what it is, right? He just hates what New Asgard symbolizes. He hates that he initiated Ragnarok, which necessitated New Asgard’s existence. He hates that New Asgard is so small, because of his own inability to protect his people from Thanos. He hates what Thor became in New Asgard. It’s really not even about New Asgard, it’s all of this other stuff.

Aaaaand chapter 7 of You Come to Me Wild and Wired!

So this was written for a @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt a couple weeks ago. The prompt was ‘broken windows.’ Their prompts are very very open ended, so I generally check them first thing on Friday morning and then let the day’s prompt rattle around in my brain until an idea occurs to me. With this one, I thought I could do something with the Oculus at the Sanctum being broken. I had also, a couple days before writing this, I had seen a reference to some sort of prompt for another ship about Stephen being angry, and I thought, you know what? It’s fun to write Stephen being angry. I should try that sometime! Broken Oculus means attack on the Sanctum, and I thought, what if Loki gets hurt in the course of that?

And to think, Loki was beginning to wonder if Strange ever got angry.

The idea of these fics is for them to be I think between 100-1000 words. This one was 1360, I believe, when I finished it? So I had to trim it down quite a bit (I eventually got it under 1100 but not quite down to 1000). The ‘And’ at the beginning of this sentence would have been an easy one to cut, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I just loved it too much.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

I love writing sweary Stephen. I love it so much.

Strange’s hands shake as he pulls Loki’s torn sweater from the wound. One of the wounds. The sweater is ruined. Shame. Loki’s always liked it. Even without the damage, the blood stains will never come out.

I also love writing Loki being more concerned with his wardrobe than his own physical wellbeing.

Loki feels woozy. Strange’s question strikes him as funny. “I was thinking I wouldn’t get hurt.”

This is clearly not the answer Strange is looking for.

Loki finds that funny, too. “I’ll tell you what I wasn’t thinking—I wasn’t thinking I’d ruin my favorite sweater. Do you see this color? Really brings out my eyes, don’t you think?”

See when you’re bleeding out, you can say things like this.

Strange’s jaw clenches. His eyebrows draw together and his eyes narrow. He picks up a bottle and doesn’t bother blotting whatever’s inside onto a cloth—he just sloshes it over the gash on Loki’s stomach.

When Loki yelps, Strange says, “Oh, shut up. That’s not going to kill you. Which is more than I can say for the horde of demons you faced—on your own.”

Gritting his teeth against the sting of alcohol, Loki says, “Yes, but they didn’t kill me.” The wooziness is probably due to blood loss. His sweater isn’t just stained—it’s soaked with crimson. That’s all his blood. The demons’ blood was black.

I’m not actually a big fan of hurt/comfort when Loki is the one who’s hurt. When I’m going to hurt Loki—and I do—I prefer to do it with psychological and emotional torment. Physical pain? Honestly, it’s not that fun for me to write. Here’s the thing with Loki: he doesn’t care. Physical pain doesn’t frighten or even really bother him. He’s completely blasé about it. And in order for it to be dangerous to him, it has to be so bad that he’s passed out. Where’s the fun in a passed out Loki?

In general, I far prefer to put Loki in the comfort role, because it seems like it’s such an unnatural fit for him, and that’s way more fun to write about. I like to make my characters uncomfortable, haha. The two people that Loki is closest to in my verse, Thor and Stephen, are also really not the kind of people that want to show physical weakness. And Loki isn’t nurturing (well, he can be, but it’s buried deep down inside him), so like, it’s way more fun to have Thor be hurt and have Loki needing to feed him or whatever.

And I’m straying from this fic but this is the director’s cut, haha.

Strange doesn’t respond. At all. His hands can barely hold the—what is that? Oh, a bandage. He’s trying to bandage the wound, but he drops it because of his hands’ violent tremor.

Stephen’s hands shake more when he’s emotional.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Strange says as he picks up the alcohol again. He sounds like he might kill Loki himself.

“I’d rather not.”

At these words, which Loki delivers in a perfectly affable tone,

This line just makes me laugh. Something about the word ‘affable.’ Loki’s so cheerful about his impending death.

Strange drops the bottle. It spills all over their shoes; splashes their pants. Loki’s legs sting as the alcohol soaks through his pants, so he knows he has open wounds there, too.

Trying to show, not tell.

Strange swears, a long string of profanity that penetrates Loki’s fog. He’s never heard Strange talk like this.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Odinson? Like seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Strange rakes a hand through his hair. Blood, Loki’s blood, smears his forehead. “You’re bleeding out. You’re gonna fucking die and you can’t swallow your goddamn motherfucking pride to let someone who can hold a fucking needle and thread stitch you up—”

The beauty of these little ficlets is I don’t have to come up with the whole long slowburn backstory or figure out too much about the characters’ arcs up until this point, but, I will say, I love to write a Stephen who has entirely come to terms with his disability and for him to actually be mad at Loki for not seeking treatment from someone who can actually help.

“This won’t kill me.” Loki considers. “Probably not, anyway. Though I don’t feel well.”

Strange looks like he’s going to scream.

Loki glances around. “Can you use superglue to close a wound? I’m sure I’ve heard Lang say that.”

It cracks me up to imagine Scott describing how like, one time at Baskin Robbins he cut himself on the soft serve machine or something, and he had to close it up with superglue. And that Loki feels this is an appropriate thing to say at this moment.

Strange stares, his eyes blue, then green, then this curious, almost colorless color. Colorless color. That doesn’t even make sense.

In my other fics I usually refer to this as ‘seaglass’ but I try not to be too repetitive.

Perhaps Strange is right. Perhaps Loki is in danger.

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Strange asks quietly. Loki expected more rage. Rage he can deal with. People are always angry at him.

Lol come on I wrote this fic, you didn’t think there wouldn’t be angst in it, did you?

It’s funny, actually. Loki has always taken pleasure in getting a rise out of people. It’s easy. People are predictable.

Strange has never been predictable.

So Loki tells the truth. No snark. No sarcasm. “The Oculus was broken,” he says. “Broken windows aren’t a good sign. I thought you might be in danger.”

Sometimes, Loki fears he has become predictable. Didn’t Thor tell him so, once? But he can tell this is the last thing Strange expected to hear.

“I wanted to help you,” Loki adds for good measure. He feels light-headed. He probably wouldn’t say these things otherwise. Maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad. Maybe it’s time he said this to Strange, to Stephen, whom he cares very much for, even if he pretends otherwise. He likes making Stephen angry by being difficult, by being intractable, by being an arse. He likes trying to get a reaction. He feels like he’s standing outside Strange’s window, throwing stones, trying to break the glass of his impenetrable, unruffle-able coolness.

As I write these ficlets, I find that I tend to start with a literal interpretation, and along the way, I find my way to these metaphors. They usually help me tie the fic together, too, so that it’s not just a collection of sentences but actually has a itty bitty plot and arc. I’m particularly proud of this one, I’ll be honest.

But Strange is immune to Loki.

It’s a bit of an act. Alright, it’s entirely an act. Loki isn’t good at seeking attention unless it’s negative.

My cat is also like this tbh.

“Did think maybe I had it under control?” Stephen runs his shaking fingers through his hair again. There’s red in the gray at his temples.

“I thought maybe you didn’t,” Loki replies.

Stephen covers his eyes with a hand. Bloody fingerprints mark where his fingertips rested when he moves it.

I have a thing for my boys being covered in blood.

“Let me take you to the hospital.”

There’s something in Strange’s eyes. It looks like fear.

Strange’s hands shake more when he’s emotional.

Suddenly, Loki realizes Stephen has been putting on an act, too. He’s not cool and unruffled. He’s not immune to Loki.

Suddenly, Loki thinks Stephen might care more about him than he lets on.

Loki looks at his blood-soaked sweater. Considers how dizzy he feels. Ponders the fact that the shape of Stephen Strange’s lips is very attractive; the way his eyes change color with the light hypnotic.

Maybe it’s the blood loss. But he wouldn’t like to die without knowing how Stephen’s lips feel.

Aaaand there it is. So I’m a serious slow burn person, and that makes it hard for me to write these short little things. You’ll notice actually if you read them that there’s always all this unspoken backstory, like ‘they’d been working together for years...’ etc etc. But I always try to get that build even in these short little things, and if I can make myself go, AWWWWW then I’m happy.

“Alright,” Loki says. “I’ll go to the hospital.” He stands. There’s a rush in his ears. His legs feel like sodden paper.

Stole this line from myself. I have a nearly identical simile in one of my original novels.

They buckle.

But Stephen is there, holding him, an arm tight around Loki’s waist. His hands may tremble, but he radiates safety and steadiness.

Safety is hugely important to Loki. He couldn’t ever fall in love with someone who didn’t make him feel safe, even though he probably wouldn’t admit that out loud.

A portal blooms, Metro-General Hospital on the other side. Stephen tucks a piece of hair behind Loki’s ear. “The sweater does bring out your eyes, by the way.”

Obligatory callback to the beginning of the fic. When I had Loki note that the sweater brings out his eyes, I knew that I would have Stephen agree at the end of the fic.

“Aha, you think about my eyes,” Loki says. It’s getting hard to hold his head up. Stephen guides him through the portal. “That means you think they’re pretty.”

“I think they’re gorgeous,” Stephen says. He hesitates. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

‘Gorgeous’ is my preferred word for Stephen to use to describe Loki. Loki tends more towards ‘beautiful’ to describe Stephen.

He lowers Loki to a chair. “Now sit here while I get help.”

Loki grabs Stephen’s wrist and lets his head fall against the wall. He peers at Stephen through slitted eyes, knowing he’ll survive this, because he’s survived worse. He still says, “I would kiss you, but I want something to look forward to if I don’t die.”

Emotions pass over Stephen’s face like the play of shadows on the ground as clouds scud across the sun.

I love the word ‘scud’ but it’s definitely one of those ‘you only get to use this once in a fic’ type of words.

He swallows hard. “Yeah, well.” He squeezes Loki’s hand. “We’ll see how you feel after you’re patched up.”

Loki smiles and lets him go. He knows how he’ll feel. After all, he’s been throwing stones at the windows of Stephen’s heart.

He just never realized Stephen was throwing them back.

METAPHOR! The wonderful thing about finding the metaphor is that it’s a really easy way to end the fic. It’s the central theme, right, so you use the last line to tie into it, and done.

Thank you so so much for asking!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

#Anonymous #froststrange #brodinsons #loki #thor #stephen strange #traotg

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lailannajacobs · 5 years

Text

War of Hearts

Pairing: Loki x fem!Reader

Request: Hiya! Could you do a Loki X Reader body swap fic? AND Hey! Can you do a fix where Loki is doing some spell or magic and accidentally ends up switching his body with the reader. Sexual innuendos maybe? ;)

Warnings: Mostly fluff, maybe a tinsy, weensy pinch of angst?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I’ve never written a body swap fic before, so to the two wonderful anons who requested this, I hope it’s at least a little bit close to what you had in mind! It was a fun challenge for me and I hope you guys enjoy! What love to know what you think! <3

Loki was bored. Absolutely, no doubt about it, going-out-of-his-mind bored. And everyone else - well, everyone he could tolerate to be more specific - had other, more important things to do. And Loki…well he was on house arrest. According to Captain Goody Two Shoes, disguising himself as a falcon and pecking the Bird Man with his dagger-sharp beak violated the terms of his agreement with the Avengers. Good behaviour meant he wasn’t their prisoner. Apparently bad behaviour meant house arrest. But really, it had all been in good fun. No one had gotten seriously hurt.

After an uneventful morning, Loki had thought that maybe he would have been able to convince the Spider Boy to spend the rest of the day sparring with him, but the child had a date. The moment Loki had seen that stupid little grin on his face, he knew there was no convincing the Spider Boy otherwise.

His first and best option, the Scarlet Witch, was mission bound for another day. It was no secret that she distrusted him, but at least she was powerful and had an inkling of common sense - unlike the majority of the other agents in this tower. She had gone off with YN, one of the few other people Loki didn’t mind so much.

Loki wandered down the halls, trying to find something to do. His book was predictable, he had already gone for a run, and he wasn’t tired. He was itching to get out and being cooped up on one floor did nothing to stifle the excess energy he had drumming under his skin. House arrest, without a single intelligent soul around, was proving to be an annoying punishment.

Before he realized where he was going, he found himself in the kitchen, scaring off new Shield recruits with nothing more than his presence. Loki smirked. Some things never failed to satisfy him.

But the feeling didn’t last long. Once again left to his lonesome, Loki began to play around with his magic, finding comfort in the familiar hum resonating through his body. He didn’t pay much attention to where the magic went as he made himself dinner, mindlessly letting it ebb and flow through and out of him, transforming it and drawing it back in. Although his body went through the motions, chopping carrots into tiny pieces, his mind turned inward, falling further into the abyss of himself and the soothing whirlwind of his magic.

Then the kitchen door banged open. Loki lost his grip on the magic, feeling it spiral out uncontrollably as it threw him to the ground and the world immediately went black.

The kitchen blinked back into view, but Loki couldn’t understand how he had landed so far across the room. He tried to move, but immediately knew something was wrong.

He looked down at his body; a body that wasn’t his own.

He was in a woman’s body. But the change in gender wasn’t what had let him know he wasn’t in his own body. After all, it wasn’t everyday he looked in a mirror and saw a man staring back. No, what had tipped him off was that he recognized this body. This body belonged to YN. But if he was in her body then that meant…Loki found his own body crumpled to the floor, the knife he had been using mercifully far from his body. He wasn’t sure how his body would have fared a stabbing with a mortal inside it.

Unfortunately, Loki wasn’t quite aware what the rules were for trading bodies. The only thing he was certain of was that she’d have to be the one to change them back now that she was in his body. He crawled over to her, not trusting himself to stand in this body that wasn’t his.

Cupping her face - his face - gently, he lifted her head from the awkward position on the floor, “YN. YN? Are you all right?”

She barely stirred and his heart began to race. Had he just killed her? His palms began to sweat, and he had the impression that his heart had lodged itself far up his throat. He wiped his hands on her combat suit. Stupid mortal body.

Shaking her with more force, he refused to admit that anything terrible had happened to her…well anything other than having switched bodies with him. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. Loki smiled when he noted that the colour was not the usual green he saw in the mirror. They said that eyes were the windows to the soul, and the soul in his body wasn’t his, which meant neither were those eyes.

When she registered what she was looking at, she panicked and backed into the kitchen counter, hands reaching for her knife. Little did she realize, it was jammed uncomfortably against his leg at the moment.

“YN, it’s me,” He blurted, then realized she probably had no idea who ‘me’ was. Just because she was one of the few people he tolerated here didn’t mean that she had any particularly good feelings towards him, “Loki.”

The silence seemed to draw on forever, but he knew she believed him when she narrowed her eyes dangerously, “Loki. What the hell have you done to me?”

He paused, not quite sure how to answer. Rather than try to, he backed away from her, figuring he was overcrowding her by being so close. She was alive. He had no reason to be there anymore. But now, he only felt cold and a strange pain in his arm.

“Loki, I swear I’m-” She stumbled as she tried to stand, and looked down at her body, then seemed to realize for the first time that she was in his, “Give me back my body. Now.”

She forced herself to stand, and although it was clumsy at first, she quickly found stability. He would have been disappointed if she hadn’t. Following suit, he stood, immediately hating that she was the one who now towered over him. As if sensing it, she smirked - the kind he used to terrify all the new recruits.

“So, this was an accident.” It wasn’t a question.

He crossed his arms over his chest and briefly noted that she had cut herself - himself? - across her forearm earlier, the dried blood caked across the gash on her sleeve, “You weren’t supposed to be back for another day.”

“What can I say?” She lifted her new fingers to the light, examining them with unimpressed curiosity, “Wanda and I are quite the pair.”

He rolled his eyes, though he had a feeling it didn’t quite convey the same amount of sass as it did in his own body.

“Enjoying what you see?” He crooned when her inspection had travelled from her fingers along her bicep to her new chest and torso.

Her head snapped up before her gaze could get any lower, black hair flicking back from her face, “It’s nothing new. I know what you look like.”

“But do you really?” He approached her, his lips spreading into a grin, “Because I think that’s a lie. I know for a fact that you’ve never gotten this close. I think both of us would have remembered that.”

“Who says I want to?” She countered, though he knew she was flustered.

Her tells were now his own and she had no idea how to hide them the way he did.

He tucked her - his? - hair behind her ear, watching her eyes widen as he did, “I do. You can explore if you’d like,” He purred, “I don’t mind.”

She shook her head, “Why would I want to do that?”

He looked down at himself, at the body that wasn’t his but that he was very much appreciative of, “How can you not be the least bit curious?”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely,” He answered candidly, relishing in the surprise on her face, “I always like to know what makes another person…tick. I wouldn’t be against a little exploration of my own.”

“And what makes you…tick, Loki?” She whispered.

He stepped a little closer, tilting his head back, “Would you like me to show you? Or would you rather discover it on your own? You can take your time, Agent, I’m in no rush.”

He watched his body shiver and satisfaction washed through him, knowing that even in this body he had gotten under her skin. Sucking in a deep breath, she jut out a hip, hand placed furiously on it. He smirked at the sight.

“What I want, is my body back,” She growled, eyes widening in surprise at her own tone.

He shrugged, “Well, that’s on you, mortal. You have my body.”

“And how,” She stared down at the body as if it was a prison, “Do you want me to do that?”

“I can’t explain,” He looked back down at his arm, annoyed with her that she hadn’t healed her own body properly, “It will come to you, I’m sure.”

She let out a long, annoyed sigh, “Any words of advice, Witch?”

“You’re the god now,” He corrected, “Focus on our bodies and our souls, and it will come to you.”

He ignored the deadly look she shot him and moved toward the sink to wash off the blood. When the water touched the scratch, he hissed. He looked back down in surprise. He had experienced scratches like this, and they had never affected his own body. He had seen her come back from missions much worse, and yet, her smile had never faltered. How fragile were these mortal bodies? How had he never realized that she could be in so much pain?

Loki looked back at her, trying to get a good look at the agent for the first time since they had met, but all he saw was his own body, his eyes shut and body tense with concentration. He gingerly cleaned out the wound and wrapped it tightly with the medical supplies from the kitchen drawer. There were a few other minor scratches that didn’t need much care, but that he took care of as well.

When he began to feel a tingle go through his body, Loki knew the transfer was about to happen. He laid down on the floor, waiting to black out. Before he did, he saw his own body crumple painfully to floor and he winced.

There was a ringing in his head when he woke, and Loki knew he was back in his own body. The magic had taken a toll on his body, and the fall hadn’t done him much good either.

YN was standing over him with her hands on her hips when he opened his eyes. She was furious.

“You’re an ass.”

“An Asgardian,” He corrected, unfazed, “At least I left your body in better shape than you left mine.”

“Am I supposed to apologize?” She demanded.

He raised a brow, “It wouldn’t hurt.”

She was about to say something else but seemed to notice her arm. Glancing down at the wound, then back at him, her brows furrowed. He attempted to stand and had to hold onto the counter to stop the swaying, ignoring her outstretched hand.

Something dawned on her, and he didn’t trust the way her face softened. Looking like she was about to say something both of them would regret, Loki shook his head to cut her off.

“Don’t worry about it, mortal. I can handle a little magic backlash and a fall to the ground,” He pushed past her, knowing he had to get out of the kitchen. She had used far more magic than necessary to reverse the switch, but the fatigue wasn’t the only reason he had to leave, “Consider us even now.”

“Loki?”

He didn’t turn around. He had gotten far closer to this mortal than he had wanted to and Loki was going to get away before he made another dangerous mistake.

One Week Later

Loki was finally off house arrest. What surprised him the most was that he had actually accepted his punishment when it would have been so easy to escape. But quite frankly, it would have been more trouble than it was worth.

It had taken a few days, but Loki’s skin no longer felt too tight, like it belonged to a stranger. He hadn’t seen YN since the little incident, but he preferred it that way. On his first official day of freedom, Loki knew exactly where he was headed and was ready to get there.

“You know, for someone so powerful, you’re awfully predictable.”

Loki jolted, not having heard YN approach. He smoothed down his shoulders and twisted to face her, rocking back on his heels. Raising a brow, he motioned for her to explain.

She narrowed her eyes at him, emotions brewing under the surface that he wasn’t privy to. When she said nothing, he figured it wasn’t worth staying in the hallway waiting for nothing.

He shrugged, “If that’s that, then I’m going-”

“To Time Square,” She finished for him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He cocked his head, trying to get a better look at her. It hadn’t been what he had been about to say, but it was exactly where he planned on going. There was something about the chaotic bustle of tourists and locals that he found calming, and after his miserable house arrest, he could use a little calm. But how she knew that was beyond him.

“How-”

“How do I know?” She asked, cutting him off once again. He wasn’t sure if she was doing it to annoy him or for another reason he couldn’t fathom, but she had enough of his attention for him to tolerate it. For now. “I know that most of us will avoid Time Square if we can help it. I also know you’ve learned to thrive in situations that break most people. Do you know how I know this?”

“Because you’ve read my file?” He asked dryly, though he found her words unsettling.

“I know this because, despite your past crimes, Tony has you on our most difficult missions. And the ones that throw our plans out the window have you at the front, adapting faster than the rest of us. There is a reason you’re not imprisoned, and not all of it has to do with your brother’s generosity.”

Unsure of what to say, Loki hardened his face, burying his emotions as far away as possible, “Do you expect me to be flattered?”

She shook her head, “No, because, like I said, you’re predictable. I also know you care about the people you get close to. I’ve seen you with your brother. I’m not blind. But I also know you don’t get close to anyone.”

“YN,” Loki forced a laugh, “I believe you’re reading too far into things. I didn’t think you were this naive.”

She smirked, “And there it is. Proof that I’m right.”

“And how would you know all this, YN?” He countered.

“I,” She paused, obviously not having expected the question, “I know all this because I’ve been watching you, waiting for you to try and escape. It was what I was tasked to do. And what I couldn’t understand before last week, was why you hadn’t tried to leave.”

He grinned dangerously, “And who says I don’t have a plan in the works?”

“I do,” She shrugged when he shot her a look of disbelief, “It turns out that watching someone and getting close to them means that you actually get close to that person. You’re not leaving, Loki.”

“You’re awfully sure.”

“You wouldn’t have patched me up if you were going to leave. It wouldn’t have mattered to you.”

“That’s circumstantial,” He snarled, starting to lose the grip on his emotions.

She took a step toward him, puffing up her chest as she got up in his face, “And then you avoided me like I was a danger to your sanity. I think you care, Loki. I think you realized it the same night I did.”

“I do not,” He punctuated each word, drawing in closer so that he was invading her space.

She looked up at him, a satisfied smirk on her lips, “Really? Then prove it. Walk away right now.”

He stared into her eyes; eyes that never seemed to dim or lose their fight even when they were trapped in another body. Loki knew he should turn away and never come back. That he should push past her and keep walking until he was far, far away.

But he couldn’t.

Annoyed with the victorious smile growing on her lips, he did the only thing he could think of. He smashed his own lips to hers, not caring about being gentle, and pulled her in tight so that their bodies couldn’t get any closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and he moaned, his hands travelling down to the small of her back to line up their bodies. He was about to deepen the kiss when she pulled away. He didn’t let her get far.

“Feel better?” She asked, that infuriating smile on her lips.

“Not yet,” He growled, “You cut me short.”

She began to laugh, but the sound was cut off by his lips on hers.

#loki fanfic #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #body swap #body switch #marvel fanfiction #MCU fic #fan fiction #fanfic

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the-devil-herself · 4 years

Text

Never Enough - Chapter 22

CHAPTER: 22

DESCRIPTION: Certain mates of Jotuns receive soulmate marks on their bodies. What happens when Loki’s mark is found on a girl with immense power?

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: ALRIGHT FOLKS, if you have been following this story on AO3 or read it earlier, you’ll know this is where my fic has paused at. Well, I am working on the next chapter now, and I can’t wait to update you all that have been waiting for so long! Please give me some feedback and enjoy.

TAGGED: @kneel-before-queen-loki @lokis-girl-in-mischief @tarithenurse @fangirls94 @hellofeysandarling @lokis-high-priestess @god-of-mischief-here-tada @marvelschriss

I didn’t know what was happening to me.

I couldn’t understand where this “thing” had come from or if it had been dormant in me for so long. If so, then why show itself now? Did it have to do with the man on the balcony?

I tried hard over the next two days to figure it out. The blackness creeping in my veins wasn’t slowing down, but, thankfully, I could hide it. The only time I could see the inky substance in my skin was when I called it forward—like I was looking for it, but otherwise, it hid itself.

No one else knew. I still hadn’t told Tony or anyone. In fact, I hadn’t spoken to anyone since I woke up besides Bruce and occasionally Tony when he checked in on me. Bruce came every morning to study the progress of the infection, and he hadn't seen my infection growing as I did. If he did, he would tell Tony, then I would never be let out. So I kept it hidden.

And maybe this wasn’t a bad thing, right? Maybe it was just my powers expanding, and I was maturing into my full potential. However, looking back on how I threatened Tony, I knew this power inside me was dark.

I hadn’t seen Loki either. My heart ached to tell him everything and to have him hold me, but I could not bring myself to seek him out. He was on the lookout for Lorelei, which was something only he could do. Distracting him would only delay the process and put us in danger of Lorelei hitting us off guard. Loki had told me he would stay with me, and he did, in his own way. I found flowers from him every so often as his reminder he was still looking after me. Of course I hid these from Tony, too.

“You should get some air.”

The voice startled me from my thoughts. I looked back to see Nat had come in, leaning against the doorframe. Smiling at her, I responded, “I have windows that open.”

“Not what I meant,” she scoffed, chuckling. She came into the room and sat on my bed. “You don’t need to lock yourself in here.”

“Well I’m already locked in the compound, so what’s one more cage?”

Nat raised her eyebrow. “You’re not a prisoner.”

It was my turn to scoff. “No? Then why won’t Tony let me help you guys fight Lorelei?”

She patted the spot on the bed next to her, motioning for me to come sit by her. Reluctantly, I did, and Nat turned to grab my hands. “Tony cares for you, Dana. He cares for you more than anyone, and he needs you to be alright. He doesn’t need you putting yourself in danger. You getting hurt would be the worst outcome for him.”

“But I can do it! Aren’t people dying and Lorelei winning the worst outcomes?”

“Yes, but if it means risking your life, then he won’t see it that way.” Nat sighed and squeezed my hand. “You’re young, and you have so much growing to do.”

I looked towards the ground, my brown hair falling to cover my eyes. “I feel weak. I have all this power, but I can’t do anything with it. I keep getting hurt by my hope to one day be something more.”

“You already are something more.”

“I’m… full of power—power that I’m not sure I can control, and I’m not sure if I want to. This thing, whatever it is, has made me feel stronger than ever. I feel like no one can ever touch me again.”

Nat reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. “No one will hurt you. We will make sure of that.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to keep relying on people. I want to rely on myself!”

Suddenly, she turned my head to look into her eyes. “Relying only on yourself is a very lonely thing to do.”

“I’m already lonely,” I whispered.

I felt her hand softly caress my cheek. “Power is very tempting. It can make you feel strong, invincible, but it is an illusion. The only way to be strong is to have people who care about you with you.”

I closed my eyes, feeling my breath leave my body. When I was not myself, I was at my most powerful. I had the whole room full of Avengers at my feet, and I could’ve done anything I wanted. But at the same time, I felt nothing. I wasn’t myself, and my emotions were dulled. It was like I was someone else entirely, and for some perverse reason, I liked it.

“It didn’t seem like an illusion,” I breathed. “It seemed so real.” I needed it to be real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to feel like an itch for that power again. I wanted it so much that I began pacing back and forth in my room. I began to feel like an addict, needing a drug I had only tried once. But damn was it good.

It got to the point where I went to my window and released it. The black tendrils flew out of my hand and swirled onto the grass below. Soon enough, the front yard was turning brown as the black smoke surpassed each plant and leaf. The yard was rotten by the time I was done, and I didn't want to stop. The power radiated throughout my body, and I gasped from the pressure building inside of me. I felt full. No one could ever beat me.

I stopped myself so suddenly. I gasped for air as the feelings left my body and my power receded. What the hell was I thinking? If I had let my control escape me, I was in danger of seriously hurting someone. So why couldn't I stop myself?

There was no stopping the panic that ran through me. Breathing hard and wheezing, I grabbed onto my throat. My heart felt like it could come right out, and my lungs felt so constricted.

My body was shaking. What was happening to me? That surge of power had overtaken me and without it, I felt weak again. I was nothing without it.

No! That’s wrong.

After counting down from a hundred and feeling my muscles relax, I got up and ran from my room. I needed to get that air that Nat was talking about.

But before I could get to the back door that led out to the garden, my body bumped into someone else’s. A hand reached out and caught me before I fell on my ass, and looking up I saw it was Loki.

“Darling, where are you running to?” He looked concerned, and I caught his subtle study of my body to see if I was harmed.

“I… Sorry, nowhere,” I stuttered. “I was just going to the garden. Seemed time to leave my room.”

“I am glad you are feeling better. I’ve been wanting to see you-“

“But Tony, I know. It’s okay.” I wasn’t sure if my reassurances were enough, but I was too focused on myself to think about it. I moved around Loki’s body and made my way towards the door.

I didn’t get far. Loki caught my wrist and stopped me from reaching my goal. “Dana, what is the matter?” Now he was really worried.

In an instant, I was turned around to face Loki. His eyes were soft as he gazed at mine, and concern was glowing in them. And I stopped.

Loki had been here before. Years ago he was tempted by a power such as this, and he gave in. He was overrun with it, leading him to attack Earth. The road there was paved with lost relationships and a loneliness so great it swallowed him. He was given the illusion of power, and he, too, believed it was real. Could he answer my rumbling thoughts?

It was a risk. I was terrified of voicing them to him. He might think me a monster or he could believe I was stupid for thinking such things. He might yell at me or mock me. He could leave me.

But he was the only chance I had.

My hand wrapped itself around his. “Loki,” I sighed, too scared to look at his eyes.

He tipped his forefinger under my chin and raised my face so that we were eye-to-eye. “Is there something wrong?” he asked softly.

Before I could thoroughly think it through, my head nodded. I sputtered, “Something is very wrong.”

“Love, tell me-“

The alarm interrupted Loki’s sentence. It blared throughout the compound, startling us.

“What the hell is that?” I asked.

Suddenly, a crash sounded from above us, and we heard windows shattering. The living room. Someone was here, and they were not invited.

“Loki!” Thor called.

I felt Loki tighten his hold on me. “She’s here.”

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sourpatchkidsandacokecan · 5 years

Text

Merry Kismet Writing Challenge

Time for a new writing challenge friends! In order to get into the festive spirit, or just to stay warm as it gets cold, I have created a winter/holiday writing challenge! I know some of the prompts reference Christmas specifically, however, if you do not celebrate that holiday, but another, feel free to substitute it, just let me know!

You don’t have to be following me, but it would sure be jolly if ya did!

Please signal boost this so it doesn’t flop!

Open for all Marvel characters!

Send me your pairing and prompt in an ask! That way I can keep track of things easier in case tumblr implodes, a url changes, whatever!

AU's are welcome!

No word minimum or maximumUse the “keep reading” insert on anything over 500 wordsUse proper warnings please!

No rape/incest

@ me in the fic when you post and # it #ldmkwc

I'm allowing two people per prompt because I realized while I have a mix, I don't have the even mix I was hoping for, plus it's the season of giving!

Fic due date: January 10th, 2020

That’s it! Any questions feel free to send them via DM or my askbox

“I just want to stay here, watch movies all day and cuddle with you on the couch.”

“Holding you in my arms is the best feeling in the world.”

“Out of all the things I like to eat, you’re my favourite.” @avintagekiss24 w/ steve

“You fell asleep on me, but it’s fine, I made sure you’re warm and comfortable.”

“Be more careful next time. I don’t want to bandage you up again.”

“Hey, it’s cold outside. At least wear a jacket.” @helenaeisenhower w/ bucky

“Take it easy, you hit your head.”

“Sit still and let me take a look!”

“Did I say you could get out of bed?”

“You’re lucky, that icicle could’ve killed you.”

“Sit down, I’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up.”

“Shit, you’re burning up.”

“You’re not dying. It’s only a sprained ankle.” @becs-bunker w/ carol danvers

“I wouldn’t be in this situation for anyone else. I hope you know that.” @vloggerparker w/ peter parker

“You owe me a kiss.” @heli0s-writes w/ bucky

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?” @spidey--tingle + @kentuckybarnes w/ bucky

“The food looks great, but there’s something much more delicious i’d like to eat right now.” @becs-bunker w/ bucky

“There’s only one bed…” @that-damn-girl w/

“Was I really that drunk?”

“Are you cold?”

“Stop hogging all the blankets!”

“Baby, it’s cold outside.”

“It’s almost midnight!” @chuuulip

“Looks like we’re snowed in.”

“Don’t be such a Grinch.”

“The lights are so pretty.”

"Is that mistletoe?" @lailannajacobs w/ loki

“Will you help me decorate?” @nacho-bucky w/ bucky

“Let’s go ice skating.” @merpuccino w/ natasha

“Seriously, staring at me won’t get me to be your new years date.”

“You know I could never leave you alone on your favorite holiday.” @sincerelymlg w/ bucky

“I’m bringing the holiday party to you!”

“I think eating Chocolate alone on a holiday is completely normal.”

“Looks like we’re stuck here until all the snow blows over." @the--sad--hatter w/ loki

“Seriously!?! The powers out?” @sammy-jo1977 w/ matt murdock

“There’s so much snow in my boots!”

“Wake me up when winter’s over.”

“Winter is my favorite time of the year!”

"You’re cute when you’re freezing.”

“All I want for Christmas is you.” @myoxisbroken w/ loki

“No way you’re going out in the snow in that!”

“Did you actually get a Santa suit?”

“Catching snowflakes with your tongue is harder than it looks…” @corneliabarnes w/ bucky

“I may die if it gets any colder.” @afewmarvelousthoughts w/ bucky

“Finally! Snow!”

“Let’s watch stupid Christmas movies and get wasted.”

"It’s too cold to do anything!”

“Let’s listen to Christmas albums and get drunk off of eggnog.”

“You’re like a heater!”

“Bah humbug.”

“There’s no way I’m going out in that weather!”

“Hey, want to help me get my parents off my ass about not having a date?” @buckybarnesbeans w/ bucky + ladybugfanfics w/ steve

“I’d like the snow a lot more if I didn’t have to drive in it.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you spend Christmas alone.” @afewmarvelousthoughts w/natasha

“Seriously, I told you that you would get sick going out like that.”

“You’re hands are freezing!” @from-hel-i-with-love w/ loki

"Do you wanna build snowman?"

"You've never been in a snowball fight?"

"I don't possess the will to move 50 million tons of white bullshit." @redfoxwritesstuff w/ steve

"Careful! The ice looks thin over there!" @jessiejunebug w/ loki

#bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #sam wilson x reader #tony stark x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #bruce banner x reader #jessica jones x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #ldmkwc #writing challenge #marvel writing challenge

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dontcallmecarrie · 5 years

Note

Are you planing on ever making By Dawns Early Light into a full blown story? ... And is Thanos an issue in this AU? I think you havent mentioned him in it so well, I wondered?

UMM. *looks over what I’ve got in that tag, and winces*

geez this thing’s longer than some of my actual fics, when did that happen?

Here’s the thing, though: this AU’s meant to be a writer’s-block-buster. Which, if the current evidence is anything to go by, has been a resounding success.

However.

As of right now it’s just that, a thought-and-snippet-writing exercise, because there’s a lot of things that’d need tweaking before I’d even consider posting it on AO3 [aka my inner perfectionist strikes again].

Again, this is mostly just me messing around with a fluffy tumblr-exclusive [for now, anyway] AU because this feels smaller stakes than if I were to round this up and make it into a full-out fic.

Also, in regards to the second part of your ask: not exactly. By Dawn’s Early Light is, at its core, a fairly fluffy self-indulgent AU, which for me is also code for ‘nobody dies if I can help it’ and ‘if the MCU can have a Gary Stu villain then I can do what I want, Deus Ex Machina-levels of fixits included’.

How? Simple. By nerfing the heck out of him, while also unfridging as many other moms as I can, with a side of I-have-yet-to-forgive-the-writers-for-pulling-this-bs-seriously-what-kind-of-writing-was-that.

Here’s how the entire Thanos situation would go down, in By Dawn’s Early Light (spoilers for a fic I have yet to write):

First, let’s take a step back, shall we? This is, among other things, a timeline-crunch AU. There’s a lot going down in a very compressed time frame [originally just because I wanted Howard to still be around just for Tony to be able to punch him, but now I’m invested in this so time go the full nine yards, buckle up everyone].

So. The entire situation around Maria Stark and Tony and Bucky’s been covered fairly well, but to sum up: when Howard turns out to be an abusive asshole of a husband, his wife smiles at him and promptly turns around and burns both SHIELD and Stark Industries, revealing HYDRA and Obadiah Stane’s double-dealing ahead of schedule [unintentional fixits ftw]. In the chaos, Bucky manages to escape and joins up with Maria and Tony as they go in hiding.

Ripple effect that didn’t get mentioned: Hank Pym sees this shit going down, realizes that the most famous missing child in the country is about the same age as his daughter, and decides to not aim to be Absentee Father of the Year. He ends up being a tad overprotective, sure, but is way more involved in his kid’s life and Hope Van Dyne grows up with at least one (1) parental figure in her life, so…there’s that.

Things happen, and the timeline for bringing Janet back gets moved up somehow, right around when the Avengers assemble.

Note to self: adjust part of Scott Lang’s origin story in this? Compare whistleblower laws of that time era, alt. entrance for him could be him somehow helping Tony hide because BDEL!Howard’s the type of petty and vindictive asshole who’d pull some strings if he found out this rando interfered with his search somehow.

Bonus for giving Scott and Hank something to commiserate about, later on, and would also have Tony and Co. feeling indebted to him [which would result in a lot of shiny prototypes and records being expunged, later on, probably]

…though that might be a bit much. Hmm.

Reason to bring Janet back: I do what I want also I think the MCU fridged moms because otherwise they’d be too powerful

Ripple effect that didn’t get mentioned, the second: since this is also the AU where moms get unfridged, Frigga’s going to be derailing the plot from her corner of the galaxy.

Also, since I finally watched Ragnarok but was a mythology nerd as a kid and have a passing knowledge of the comics, time to revamp how Hela fits into this universe.

Okay, she’s still murderous and powerful and ruthless.

Only, turns out there’s a very good reason for it: she was one of Loki’s students [iirc she’s his daughter in the myths, that’s the best I can come up with atm] before Odin saddled her with the thankless duty of being the watchkeeper of Asgard’s enemies and prisoners. As in, Odin just straight-up went ‘hey you look pretty talented, here, I now hold you responsible for this entire goddamn realm of assholes and creeps, if any get out we’re all screwed’.

Which is something Hela absolutely did not sign up for, but she’s now just about the only thing standing between said realm of undesirables and her home so she stays put […also maybe Odin sealed the only way back? Maybe? Idk].

It didn’t help that in the early days, these ruffians thought they could overpower her and escape to wreak havoc. So she had to kick everyone’s ass six ways to Sunday, until they finally accepted her as the head honcho of this dump and as someone Not To Be Fucked With.

Thus, why Hela’s known as the goddess of death and ruler of Helheim.

…and it’s also why she accidentally came to Thanos’ attention.

(Because why the hell not, as if her day wasn’t bad enough Odin you owe her big time—)

Thanos, of course, is in love with her carnage and seems to be the kind of guy who doesn’t take no for an answer. Hela just wants to be left the alone but can’t tell him to fuck off because if she did, she’d risk leaving her home open to attack from enemy agents, which is how we get the story behind why Thanos is known as the madman who courted death.

[Hela: fuck you and the horse you rode in on shoo you bastard and take your stupid flowers with you—]

Thanos was on one of his especially annoying ‘let me woo you with the ashes of this one civilization!’ kicks [Hela: ashes. How romantic. Not. Leave me alone already.] when some of the Dark Elves snuck out and killed Odin.

Hela…is only pissed she couldn’t have done it with her own two hands. Also slightly embarrassed that the Dark Elves escaped in the first place, and relieved that it was only Odin who’d kicked it because his wife had seemed pretty nice, the one time Hela’d seen the lady before she’d been drop-kicked to this hellhole.

Also— apparently she now can leave this place? Sayonara, bitches.

Thanos is very displeased when he doesn’t find her standing guard over Helheim when he returns.

Displeased enough to get creative, as far as courting gifts go, and think that if she didn’t like rings or jewelry, well, maybe this Lady Death would appreciate a shiny, fully-assembled Infinity Gauntlet instead.

well…let’s be honest, if it weren’t for his ‘don’t take no for an answer’ thing, you’d have to give the guy props for trying. Nothing says ‘I love you’ more than ‘here have this item of absolute cosmic power’, amirite? [just kidding]

Hela now has mixed feelings about Asgard. Before she was crowned Queen of This Dump, she’d been a student of magic, had been used to certain things. There’s quite an element of culture shock to be had, now that she’s back. It’s the first time she’s seen sunlight in thousands of years, and also there’s a lot of systemic changes going on now that some of Odin’s dirty secrets are coming out at last. Turns out she’s not the only one who’d been pressed into duty: some of Loki’s other students[/children in the myths] came back with stories of the same. Fenrir was apparently voluntold to be the guardian of the Reality Stone, Jormungandr had apparently been busy on Midgard […which now had a school of Mystic Arts? Pfft. Overachiever], and the more Hela thought about it the angrier she got.

Especially when it turns out that her teacher had been mocked for suffering a breakdown and was also tortured by the creep who’d been flirting with her for millennia [Everyone: wait what Hela: I am going to KILL THAT BASTARD NEXT TIME I SEE HIM].

However, thanks to Frigga being Frigga and having a crazy-high charisma stat, Hela is still mostly willing to play ball with everyone else on Asgard. Despite her not being happy with how ungrateful the general populace acted [oh, magic’s just ‘tricks’? Here, have a fireball TO THE FACE I FOUGHT MONSTERS WITH THESE TRICKS FOR MILLENNIA].

So when Thanos shows up again, he gets one-shotted by Hela, who’s very very pissy about her vacation being interrupted.

Because this planet has sunlight and hot chocolate and punk rock and she’s got centuries’ worth of time off and she is damn well going to enjoy it.

…aka why Thanos is a bit of a non-entity in this one. Again, fixits are the name of the game for this AU.

#I got an ask!#replies #Naught replies #By Dawn's Early Light #thinking aloud #My writing #behind the scenes mini fic #in which fixits happen #canon went screwy years back here's my attempt to fix it

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mcrmadness · 4 years

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Oooo, how about two from each of them? Fanfic asks: J and P, film asks: 15 and 16, music asks: 20 and 26.

OMG thanks!!! :DDD

Ask games: Fanfic asks, Film asks and Music asks. (People you can still send me asks if you want, asks are fun to answer to!)

***

FANFIC ASKS:

A little background before we get to the questions: I haven’t written too many, actually only 6 quite short ones (and one of them is a bit longer than usual) about Die Ärzte (Bela/Farin FTW) and all of these I have written between the years 2009 and 2012, so I was 18-21 which means they are not that good. And there’s lots of things I wouldn’t write anymore. I also have a WIP on my computer, I started it in 2012 but stopped writing altogether only to start writing again in the end 2018, it has bit over 28k words currently and tbh I have written 90% of that when I started writing again two years ago. I still have my old ones up on LiveJournal (ask for a link), but I haven’t published anything fron this later one as I’ve just been writing down all kinds of snippets whenever I have had an inspiration. I think those are also a lot better in quality than what I wrote before, the old ones are quite cringey.

J. What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I guess we talk about those fics I have also finished, now. It’s actually hard to decide but I would say my favourite is either Why not even once? or The Boring Book Freak. I think the latter is actually The favourite.

The first one (was actually my second dä ff overall) is set to happen in 2003 and in that one Farin is leaving for another vacation somewhere and Bela wants to go with him, but Farin wants to travel alone and Bela is struggling with that, as well as with Farin finally leaving and having to somehow survive his time at home without Farin there. The writing itself is bit stupid and I feel that the end got bit too far but otherwise I like the idea.

The second one (came actually after the previous one) is set to happen in the early/mid 90s (my fave Bela/Farin era btw) and on that they just are at some random summer cottage. Now, fuck cottagecores and such, I wrote it because summer cottages are a thing in Finland and I wrote it when cottagecore was not even cool yet. Somehow I imagined that it would be very Farin-like to rent a cottage from the middle of nowhere, in a forest and then spend a weekend or so there with Bela. Who then is not entertained at all and is bored because Farin won’t put away his book and won’t give him any attention, so he tries everything to get Farin’s attention. I especially like the visual images this fanfic gives to me, I can see their hairs and outfits so well and those are also aesthetically very pleasing. (They look the same as in that Absolut Live interview from the 90s, I don’t control their looks with my fics usually, I just have an idea and then my brain creates how they look in that particular scene :D)

I have also written a short songfic around the lyrics of their song “Ich weiß nicht (ob es Liebe ist)” and it was fun to imagine that as Bela/Farin. That was fun to write.

This got a bit long so I put the rest under a cut:

P. What are your favorite tropes to write?

(Had to google what a trope is lol. I’m old-school and no longer know most of the terms unless they’re old terms.)

Angst - I put my own angst, sadness and angriness into my writing often. It’s when I feel like in real life I would need other people but I don’t know how to reach out or don’t just feel comfortable about opening up, I open up a file and start writing. This is also where we get to the next trope...

Hurt/Comfort - But not so that X hurts Y, but that Y feels hurt for other reasons and then X comforts them. I kinda got obsessed with this theme after being bullied at school so I was always hurt but never comforted, so I often go back to those feels and emotions with my text to look for that comfort (hug, nice words, whatever) I never got in real life.

Fluff - This is bit complicated because I like writing fluff but I also hate reading fluff I have written. Because it does not sound like me. And sometimes when I write, I feel like standing behind my own back and vomiting a little on the inside because of how cheesy and disgusting that is but still I can’t stop writing. And then I feel like a different person when I read them because I can’t believe it’s ME who wrote them. The same way when I watch movies and people kiss, I always look away. And I want to look away when I read my fanfiction. But I can’t, especially because I know I looked at that scene in my head when I wrote it.

Humour - I love humour so much and I like to include this to my writing. Normally I put the humour in my comics but some of that fits also in the regular texts too.

***

FILM ASKS:

These are super tough but also fun - I have been trying to think of what to answer to these for days.

15. A film everyone loves but you hate?

The Avengers (-12). Sorry but not sorry. Well I don’t hate it but I don’t understand why everyone says it’s the best Marvel movie ever. It’s not. It’s full of clichés and stupid forced heteroromances and whatnot and the plot was just so, so predictive I don’t understand why it’s often talked about as some sort of cinematic master piece. I literally was able to tell everything that was gonna happen next when I watched it for the first time. Only cool things in that movie are Loki and Iron Man, whose character I already liked as I had seen the Iron Man movie and liked it. But I hated both Thor movies (the third one is awesome tho).

I like Marvel and I have seen I guess most of the movies - before MCU all good Marvel movies to come out were The X-Men movies and Spider-Man movies, and because I saw so many terrible Marvel movies, I was avoiding the whole MCU and I got into these movies much later and still, after seeing them all, I say The Avengers is one of the worst ones. Thor and Thor 2 are pretty much even worse (and I haven’t even seen the Hulk movie because it looks terrible), mainly because I just can’t stand the fact they’re mainly just built around Thor and his love interest...

16. A film you love but everyone else hates?

Spider-Man 3 (or the whole trilogy with Tobey Maguire). I see we continue with Marvel here but seriously I don’t understand why everyone is always picking on Tobey’s version of Spider-Man? And people especially hate the third movie and how Venom was portrayed in it (I’m obsessed with Venom’s human teeth pls I want his teeth), when it’s actually the best one for me. The second one is bit boring because it was again all about whining and Mary-Jane... Anyway, the reason why I am so attached to these movies is that I saw the first Spider-Man movie from TV when I was a teenager and in junior high myself, and I was bullied and a bit of a nerd so I could relate to Peter Parker a lot, and it gave me just so much strength to see him become Spider-Man and to stand up against the bullies and other assholes.

I also saw the third movie in the movie theater and there was one scene during which I started hysterically laughing with my friend because of an expression Tobey made as he was sitting on a bed, I don’t know why but somehow I just totally lost it at that :D It still makes me laugh so much when I see it! And when the movie ended, I heard a The Killers song “Move Away” for the first time during the end credits and TK was one of my favorite bands at the time (and still is).

***

MUSIC ASKS:

20. a song that empowers you

It gotta be Dead! by My Chemical Romance:

youtube

This album was what got me through all the shit that happened when I was 15+ and especially this song always made (and still makes) me feel so good. I often listened to my old mp3 player while walking to school and back home and every time this song came by, I just felt like nothing can harm and that life FINALLY was so great! It’s so energetic and still makes me feel that living is actually super awesome.

26. a song that taught you a lesson

Hmmm. I think I will answer to this with Dusche by Farin Urlaub.

youtube

That thumbnail is terrible but... And why did I choose this song? Well, I’m all for the sound what comes to music and I’d say at least 80% of all lyrics go way over my head. I just don’t have the skills for understanding poetry and also very poetic lyrics make me go crazy. I hate not knowing and when I have to assume, guess and interpret something. I don’t want to guess but I wanna know what someone has actually thought.

Dusche was the first song that had lyrics that for the first time ever actually spoke for me. I probably saw some video with English subtitles a fan had made and it just blew me away because holy shit, people are capable of writing lyrics even I can understand??? And that way I realized I can like lyrics but only if they make absolutely no sense (aka are funny or somewhat crazy, like Dusche) or when they are written in a story form or sung from the 1st person view or to “you” or in passive - but only if I can get behind the idea there.

After Dusche, Farin’s song Porzellan followed. And one of my absolute favourites is Karten. So, Farin is one of the only few people whose lyrics I have been able to understand. I still don’t hear lyrics and don’t understand a majority of the lyrics my fave bands write, and I have understood only a couple of Bela’s lyrics and I’m not sure if I’ve understood any of Rod’s lyrics. It’s not even about the language barrier anymore really, it’s just the topics or wordings I cannot comprehend.

Thank you again for the ask! This was very interesting to ponder and answer to :)

#useless-blog-of-a-moth #mutuals #ask games #mcrmadness' random stuff

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misscellophane-ao3 · 5 years

Text

Story Title: Meet the parents (Also on ao3)

Teen Mai! She and her partner are around 17 during this and Peter and Harley are around 31-32. To be honest, I have been wanting to write a fic about Mai and Nicky for a while but I've been putting it off for some reason so thank you for actually giving me a reason to finally write one. I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you like it~ (Nicky is NB and uses They/Them)

Request by: wtfiswiththisplace on Tumblr

Request Summary: I was wondering if you could write one where Mai is all grown up? Like 17 or something? Maybe about her bringing back her SO to meet the parents? (Set in my AOMPK verse)

Pairings: Peter Parker x Harley Keener

Warnings: Light Cursing

Words: 2534

Story -

“When am I gonna meet your parents?” Mai nearly dropped her phone onto her face in her surprise. She quickly sat up from where she was laying on the bed and turned to look at Nicky. The brunette was staring at her with a frown.

“Nick. Baby. Love of my life. You do not want to meet my parents. They are complete dorks.” Mai replied dryly.

Nicky gave Mai a grin “Which is why I want to meet them!” They replied cheerfully.

“You talk about all the dumb shit they’ve done over the years that it makes me curious.” Nicky added as they got up from their desk chair and jumped onto the bed next to Mai.

Mai rolled her eyes “I don’t talk about them that much!” She huffed.

Nicky stares at her deadpan “Uh yeah. You do.”

Mai felt her cheeks heat up “I-well-whatever! Anyway, why do you want to meet them so suddenly?”

“It’s not sudden. We’ve known each other for three years and have been dating for one of them! I’m honestly surprised I haven’t met your parents before.”

Mai hummed, a little frown on her face “That’s- okay that is a little weird.” She then lit up, “No, wait! You have! Remember the science fair? You saw them then.”

“But like, only your mom and as your classmate and we weren’t dating then. That was also over two years ago.” Nicky gave Mai a pointed look.

“Oh.” Mai deflated, “Right.”

“Do they even know you’re dating someone?” Nicky asked with a playful huff.

Mai rolled onto Nicky, her hands cupped their face as she stared seriously into their eyes “Yes. How could I possibly go a day without informing everyone I know that I am dating the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful, amazing person in the entire world? I couldn’t, I would die. And I can’t die yet, I still have to write that stupid essay for Ms.Simmons' class.”

Nicky blinked a couple of times before giggling “The fuck Mai?”

Mai pecked their lips with a bright grin.

“Just stating the truth, love!” She watched with fondness as a tint of red crept up on beautiful olive skin and Nicky's forest-green eyes lit up with amusement. She already had hundreds of sketches and paintings of Nicky but she knew as soon as she got home she was gonna be adding this memory into her sketchbook, the one she started solely for her art of Nicky.

Nicky smiled up at her, their hands settling on Mai’s waist “So, I can meet them then?” They asked, lightly tapping on Mai's waist.

Mai sighed dramatically “Fine.” She said, drawing the word out, “I guess.”

Nicky cheered “Yes! I get to meet Harley Parker-Keener!” They threw a hand up, nearly knocking Mai right off of them.

Mai laughed out a "Hey!" before adding right after, “And the truth comes out! I knew you were just dating me to get to my father.” Mai pouted but the twinkle of amusement in her eyes gave her away.

Nicky sniffed playfully “Of course!” They agreed, “It’s Harley Parker-Keener!”

“You know, most people would be more excited about meeting Spider-Man.” Mai mused lightly, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Eh, he’s cool too, I guess. But it’s Harley Parker-Keener! He created the most amazing thing to ever exist!”

“I’m adopted.”

“I wasn’t talking about you but you are pretty amazing too.” Nicky teased.

Mai gently swatted them “Hey!” She whined.

Nicky pressed a kiss onto Mai’s cheek “Aw, you know I love you!” They knocked their nose into Mai's cheek.

Mai pressed a smile into their shoulder before snorting and saying “Dad is not gonna let Mama live this down.”

"Live what down?" They asked.

"The fact that my partner is more excited to meet my dad then the actual Spider-Man." She snickered, "Not that Mama would actually care. I think he'd actually be a little relieved."

“That’s means I’m meeting them right?”

Mai sighed and pulled her head back to look them in the face “Yeah alright, Mama has been hinting about wanting to officially meet you anyway.”

And by that, she meant he literally asked her a few days ago during breakfast when she’d bring Nicky over. And honestly? Mai was also surprised it's taken so long for her to introduce them to Nicky.

....

“Hey, can Nicky come over for dinner tomorrow?” Mai asked nervously over steak later that night, glancing between the two.

Peter nearly choked on his drink and Harley grinned brightly, setting down his fork.

“This the same Nicky that you constantly write literal poems about and have about a hundred sketches of?”

“Shut up.” She huffed, she could feel her face heating up.

Harley winked and Peter swatted his arm “Stop that.” He then turned to Mai, his expression gentle, “Of course they can come over. They’re always welcome.”

Mai didn’t realize how nervous she was about asking until she felt her shoulders slump, a bright grin tugged at her lips only to fall right off as her dad added,

“Yeah, I can’t wait to finally put a real face to all those cheesy poems.”

Mai flicked a pea at him. He dodged, unfortunately.

"I wonder if they also have hearts floating around them all the time like in your sketches." Harley added teasingly.

Mai flicked more peas at him making him laugh and throw some right back at her. Before it could escalate into a full-on food fight her Mama cut in with a,

“No throwing food at the table.”

It was a rule that was implemented by Pepper a few years ago when Harley and Mai had got a little too excited and started a full-on food fight between all the Avengers. It was a pain to clean up but so much fun. They may have also broken a few things on accident, including the coffee maker (again) which is why Pepper won’t let them have another food fight. She even had Tony install a protocol on Friday that pretty much grounded whoever is caught throwing food around. Thankfully Friday was more chill when it was just the three of them, she figured the A.I had a soft spot for them but she would never tell Tony that. She's saving that revelation for when she really wants to annoy him, he'd probably mope around all day at the betrayal of his own creation. She mentally cackled at the image.

Outwardly though, Mai shrugged “You’re just salty that you weren’t there for the one and only Avenger food fight.” Mai replied before taking a bite of her mash potatoes.

“I was gone for one day.” Peter complained, slamming his fork down.

Harley patted him on the shoulder “And you missed so much fun.” He sighed dramatically.

Peter gave him a dry look, to which Harley winked at, and Mai laughed.

....

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Mai set a hand onto Nicky’s shoulder “Are you okay? We don’t have to go if you changed your mind?” They were on the elevator headed up to Mai’s apartment when Nicky suddenly started to panic, Mai looked them over with concern.

Nicky shook their head “No! I mean,” they cleared their throat, “I’m good. Just a little- do I look okay? What if I embarrass myself? What if he thinks I’m a complete idiot!?”

Mai deadpanned “Is this about my dad again?”

“It’s Harley Parker-Keener! You know how much I look up to him! Even before I knew he was your dad.”

“My last name is literally Parker-Keener. How you didn’t put that together sooner is beyond me.”

Nicky rolled their eyes “Yeah yeah, I’m an idiot.”

Mai huffed a laugh “No, you’re not. But my dad is. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

She paused then added “Except for some teasing. Dad loves to embarrass people.”

Nicky groaned “Not helping.”

Mai giggled “Sorry?” Though she must not have sounded convincing as Nicky just gave her a dry look. “Seriously Nick, It’ll be fine. Did you know he once stuck a bottle of ketchup into the microwave instead of back into the fridge and it exploded everywhere?”

Nicky blinked their eyes at her “Why the hell would he put ketchup in the microwave?”

Mai giggled “He was totally sleep deprived! He hadn’t slept much in over a week because of a project he was doing. Mama made him clean it up after forcing him back into bed. It took him over an hour because the ketchup dried while he was sleeping.”

“Mai, Peter and Harley are wondering if you are going to be leaving the elevator any time soon.”

Nicky’s lip twitched upwards, their body relaxing as Mai talked. They were so focused on Mai that when a voice sounded overhead they jumped “What the fuck?”

Mai threw an arm around their shoulders “That’s just Friday. She’s the A.I I told you about before.”

She glanced up at the ceiling of the elevator “Fri, say hi to Nicky!”

“Hello, Nicky. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Friday replied.

“Uh, Hi.” Nicky greeted shyly.

Mai nudged them “Ready to meet my parents?”

"Wait, do I look okay? I don't want to offend your parents!"

Mai looked Nicky over "Nah, you look fine."

"You sure?"

Mai nodded, a fond smile on her lips, and repeated, "You look fine."

They were wearing pretty much what they usually did, dark jeans and a t-shirt, except a little more dressy, which meant a dark red button-up instead of their usual band T's and the jeans with the least amount of holes. They were going to take out their lip piercing too but Mai loved it too much and pleaded with them to keep it on "My parents really won't care." She had said, "My uncle Loki had his lip pierced for a bit. Nobody cared. My mama actually told him he looked cool."

Nicky swallowed nervously, taking a calming breath before nodding “Right, I guess I'm ready then.”

Mai pecked their cheek and squeezed their shoulders reassuringly.

“Open the doors Fri.”

They stepped out into a massive living room, a hallway opened up just to the left of the elevator and on the opposite wall from them was another shorter hallway that lead the way to the kitchen and dining room. This hallway was where a short brunette walked out from, he was smiling and had on a large MIT hoodie that nearly swallowed his frame.

“Hey!” He greeted cheerfully, “Harls is getting changed, he’ll be back out in a minute.” He then turned to Nicky, “You must be Nicky. It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Peter.”

Nicky smiled back “Nicky. It’s nice to meet you Mr.Parker-Keener.” They said politely.

Peter waved them off “Just Peter is fine!” He replied.

“I prefer darlin’ myself.” A soft drawl came from the hallway next to them before a tall blonde appeared and walked over with a cheeky grin “Hiya, nice to meet ya. I’m-“

Mai swallowed a laugh when she noticed Nicky tense up, their eyes wide and cheeks pink.

“Har-Harley Parker-Keener!” Nicky stammered out, “I-yeah-I-Hi! I mean,” They cleared their throat, “Hi.” They repeated weakly, a slight blush crept up over their cheeks.

Harley blinked surprise before his smile widened “Oh, you know me?”

“Do I-do I know you?” Nicky repeated with a look of disbelief and awe.

Mai couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore “Nick’s a huge fan of you dad!” She proudly stated.

Harley looked genuinely surprised “Oh? Thank you?" He then turned a cheeky grin onto Peter, "Ya hear that? They are a fan of me!"

Peter rolled his eyes with fond amusement "I'm not surprised, you are pretty amazing."

"Not as amazing as you darlin'." Harley instantly shot back with a wink.

Mai groaned "Seriously? Not even a minute and you're already flirting."

"Give us another minute and we could be kissing too." Harley shot back with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Mai gasped, horrified "Don't you dare taint my Nicky!"

"Alright, we'll just leave you two out here and be back in an hour."

Mai grimaced "Oh my god, Dad!"

Harley laughed at her, ruffling her hair.

Peter's face pinked a little and he shot a weak smile at Nicky "Sorry."

Nicky shrugged "It's alright." They replied with a light grin, keeping most of their attention on Peter so they don't accidentally start fanning out over Harley. They did not want to embarrass themself so quickly after just meeting the man.

"Peter, the bread is done." Friday called out to them.

"Oh!" Peter lit up, "Dinner's ready then! I made lasagna-"

"You mean I made it and you watched me." Harley cut in, wrapping an arm around Peter, grin on his face.

Peter continued as if he didn't hear him "-I hope you like it, I asked Mai what you liked and she said pretty much anything with red sauce or meat."

Nicky gently nudged Mai with their elbow.

"What? It's true!" Mai defended.

"That sounds great. Thank you." Nicky smiled at Mai's parents, they glanced down with a smile when Mai's hand slipped into theirs.

....

The actual dinner portion of the night didn't go too badly either.

Nicky was obviously nervous and Mai could tell they were struggling to keep calm every time her dad opened his mouth. It was hilarious. And Mai laughed loudly and hard enough to bring tears to her eyes when Nicky inevitably did start to fan out over Harley, briefly startling then embarrassing her dad. She noticed he didn't really seem to mind that much though as he happily replied to every question Nicky had for him. Peter and Mai had watched them talk with wide smiles on their faces and fond amusement in their eyes.She knew she was gonna be bringing Nicky over more often now, if only to see them fanning over and embarrassing her dad.

"So, Nicky," Harley had said at one point, "I must say, I'm a little disappointed you don't have literal hearts floating around you."

"uh, sorry?" Nicky apologized confusedly, Mai's cheeks flushed a bright red.

"Oh my god. I hate you." She hissed at her dad.

Peter elbowed him but she could see the twitch to his lips "Mai has a bunch of sketches of you in her art book. Most of them have hearts surrounding you." He explained.

"You're both jerks." She huffed, she was sure her face matched the color of the sauce in the lasagna.

"Oh." Nicky huffed a laugh, "Yeah, I've seen them. It's cute."

“Nicky!”

"Aw, you know I love you." Nicky teased, Mai started to smile.

"Enough to write a cheesy poem?" Harley just had to ruin the moment.

She shot her dad a glare.

She was relieved that Nicky was getting along with her parents so easily and that this went a lot better then she had worried it might (not that she doubted her parents would love Nicky but she had never brought home anyone before), she just wished Nicky didn't bond with them over embarrassing her.

“Jerks, All of you.” Mai groaned dramatically, an exaggerated pout on her face.

#request fill #cell continues #i had a lot of fun with this #aompk #peter parker #harley keener #parkner #peter parker x harley keener #spideylad #*I decided to use the term fanning out instead of fangirl/ing or fanboy/ing #I don't know if it's a real term but I use it sometimes so I figured it'd be fine #Nicky is a huge fan of Harley and it is taking everything in them to stay calm lol #Sorry for the weird line breaks #it just didnt want to work with me

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callunavulgari · 5 years

Text

Year-In-Fic | 2019

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount?

This year I wrote 41 fics (technically 40 as the last was published today, but I wrote it in December so I’m counting it), for a total of 96,689 words. For even more interesting numbers, of that 96k, a little over 70k of them were written in the month of October alone, so I’m pretty proud of that.

Fic Roundup!

children of dust and ash | Bartimaeus | Bartimaeus/Kitty(/Nathaniel) | 1,801 words | Kitty summons Bartimaeus on a chilly fall day in her thirty-eighth year.

sweet music playing in the dark | DBH | 1,102 words | “I noticed some time ago that you seem to have an appreciation for jazz.”

Radio Ga Ga | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,143 words | There’s always another party in Hawkins, Indiana. It would be almost boring if it weren’t for Steve Harrington.

Sunlight | Marvel | Loki/Thor | 765 words | They aren’t quite out of the solar system when Loki appears at the arm of Thor’s chair, hair shorn short and a furious snarl on his face.

like the bough of a willow tree | Detroit Become Human | Hank/Connor | 1,214 words | There’s a human lost in his woods.

knocking on heaven’s door | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,748 words | “Just, get in the fucking car. I’ll drive you home.” Billy looked at him, very seriously, and said, “What if I don’t want to go home?”

no more dreaming like a ghost | KH | Axel/Roxas | 813 words | He is in the kitchen, the stove top still warm under his thighs, and everything smells of cherries. The pie is cooling on the windowsill, the sun slanting in warm and buttery, and it is like a dream. A memory. A wish.

Cheers | DBH | Hankcon | 6,368 words | “Are you coming in or not?”Connor blinks, jerks his eyes up and away from those hands and-The bartender has blue eyes. They match the spinning LED at his temple perfectly.

bury a friend (try to wake up) | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,587 words | Steve digs up Billy’s body on a Tuesday.

won’t be too soon ‘til I say… goodnight moon | KH | Riku/Sora | 4,549 words | The house was built in the fall of 1882.

you’ll never know what hit you | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 5,379 words | “C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

make this chaos count | EOS 10 | Ryan/Akmazian | 724 words | “You really should stop looking for me,” Akmazian tells him, fingers creeping across Ryan’s ribcage, mapping the architecture of his ribs.

eat you up whole | The Witcher | Geralt/Regis | 2,527 words | “How many mouthfuls do you think I could take from you before it had some effect?” Regis whispers, lips against his throat. Geralt can feel the pinprick of fangs. “Four? Six? Ten? More, even?”

forget the horror here | DBH | Hankcon | 4,390 words | “Hello,” the android says, it’s chest heaving, the gleam of its heart brighter, bluer than before.

summoning demons (and other bad first date ideas) | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 3,868 words | “If I let you out of that circle,” Ryan says, slowly. “Are you going to eat me?”

Itch | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims | 1,440 words | The boneturner takes from him two ribs - one for him and one for Jon.

the salt water sting | Dishonored | Corvo/Outsider | 2,163 words | The ship wrecks several hundred miles off of the coast of Karnaca.

a skeleton of something more | SGA | Rodney/John | 3,072 words | “John?” he murmurs, still coasting on the pain. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, if cotton were also made of glass.

in the woods somewhere | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 4,570 words | Stiles buys a house in Virginia.

Wake Up | The Magnus Archives | Martin/Jon | 550 words | “If you wake up,” Martin tells him, experimentally. “I won’t go through with it. You can tell me what a stupid idea it was, and we can laugh about it, and everything will be normal.”

Pas de Deux | KH | Axel/Roxas | 506 words | Roxas doesn’t remember what the sky looks like anymore.

try to wake up | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,226 words | They do not, in fact, bone down and praise Satan.

too late to come on home | LoZ | Gen | 1,391 words | “You look familiar,” the boy says in his strange, haunting voice. “Are you lost?”

patron saint of the lost causes | Harry Potter | Draco/Harry | 4,203 words | “Can’t you just, y’know,” he waves a hand and makes an obscene gesture, his cheeks flaring red. “Shag it out?”

wouldn’t you like to see something strange? | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 1,571 words | “I’d say you make my heart pound, but well…” Stiles nods meaningfully to his chest, where if you look hard enough between the slots of his ribs, you can see the lump of muscle that once was his heart, pointedly not beating. “You know.”

the night is softly, sweetly calling | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 2,938 words | Here’s the thing that Stiles never tells the Hales: his mother was strange too.

Haunt | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 1,486 words | Ryan couldn’t remember a time when the world didn’t believe in ghosts.

bite my tongue, bide my time | PJO | Nico/Percy(/Annabeth) | 1,376 words | “What’s wrong with you?” Nico asks, cowering when Percy places a gentle kiss on his collarbone.

Bird Song | Raven Cycle | Ronan/Adam, Gen | 1,445 words | On a dreary Sunday in early January, Ronan dreams himself a pair of wings.

kiss me hard until you’re done | Star Wars | Reylo | 3,082 words | He looks up at her from under heavy lids, dark hair sweeping forward to frame his face. “May I have this dance?”

beauty in the dissonance | Marvel | Tony/Loki | 1,411 words | When Tony dies, it isn’t for forever.

like real people do | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 2,808 words | “I’ve got the sight, man,” he says with a small shrug. “And look, I feel for you. You’re dead and I’m not, and that sucks, but unless you’re planning on doing something about it, I’d really appreciate it if you could stop feeling me up and let me get back to sleep.”

i’d rather drown in your ocean | Naruto | Itachi/Shisui | 1,630 words | The Uchihas are an odd sort. Everyone says so.

catch your breath | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien/Sam | 2,588 words | Mark had never assumed in a million years that he would ever see Damien again. He hadn’t factored in zombies.

Nightmare | The Magnus Archives | Martin/Jonathan | 1,424 words | “All right,” he says, taking Jon’s still outstretched hand. “Let’s give the dream what it wants.”

dreaming of the crash | Gravity Falls | Mabel & Dipper | 484 words | When the end of the world comes, they’re under the bed.

don’t we love it now? | Kingdom Hearts | Sora/Riku/Kairi | 1,784 words | When Kairi is eleven years old, she gets lost in the woods.

all this, and love too, will ruin us | Star Wars | Reylo | 1,102 words | Rey is awake to watch the sunrise

open the walls, play with your dolls | Coraline | Coraline/Wybie | 2,886 words | Halloween at the Pink Palace is a lot like any other time of year.

in every golden trace | Queen’s Thief | Costis/Eugenides/Irene | 4,645 words | For as long as Costis can remember, he’s had two names scored across the skin atop his ribs, one on either side of his rib cage, nearly perfect mirrors to one another.

a different kind of danger in the daylight | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 6,930 words | Sleeping with Holland was never part of the plan.

Best story I wrote this year: Probably the night is softly, sweetly calling. I wrote this for the 18th of October, and it’s the much awaited third part of a Teen Wolf/Addams Family fusion that I wrote back in 2014. A lot of people have asked me to continue this series over the years, but I never did because I felt my writing style had changed too much and then I fell out of the Teen Wolf fandom completely. But I’d written another Teen Wolf fic a few days before (more on this later) and I was just... very nostalgic all of a sudden. My style of writing had changed, but to offset the change of tone, I wrote the story from Stiles’s POV instead of Derek’s and it made all the difference. I was pretty pleased with the result, and hope that it made everyone happy.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. patron saint of the lost causes. There were a couple fics that I think I did a really good job writing this year, the one listed above and below included, but I think that this one was my favorite. Writing Drarry was a surreal experience, because even when I was in the Harry Potter fandom I didn’t really write for it (well, I didn’t publish what I’d written for it) and I was surprised by how easily it came to me. I tried to channel a lot of the feeling of men who had mothers when I was writing this one, because it seemed very right.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. All right, so technically my stats are all messed up this year because when I posted the third part of the Addams/Teen Wolf fusion, I also posted a chapter to Que Sera, Sera since so many people were subscribed to that story. So. From a purely stats standpoint, Que Sera, Sera was the most popular because it has a total of 25,790 hits, 2973 kudos, and 115 comments. BUT, I did not actually write anything new for that one so-

in the woods somewhere was the first fic I’d written for Teen Wolf since I wrote take me to church in August of 2017. It has over 900 kudos and some 5000+ hits. When I decided to do Dark Month this year, I knew that I wanted to revisit some of my old fandoms, so Teen Wolf was always going to be a given. I wrote take me to church as a cathartic goodbye to the show, the fandom, and of course, Stiles and Derek. It was my soft epilogue for the boys.

in the woods somewhere has a very similar feel to it. It’s post-canon, obviously, and features Stiles buying a house in Virginia and Derek slowly working his way back into his life. It is also very much in the ‘soft epilogue’ genre, leaning heavily into the magical Stiles Stilinski trope while maintaining the FBI agent direction canon was leading us in. Also it has a lot of comfort things for me - judicious descriptions of food, a packed witchy cabin in the woods, and warm shower kisses. Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Possibly either won't be too soon 'til I say... goodnight moon or all this, and love too, will ruin us. The first of these two fics is almost 5k of spooky season Riku/Sora that was strongly inspired by Uzumaki-sama’s old fic Goodnight Moon. It was the second day of October and my prompts for the day were moon cycles, nightmare, cage, lookalike, mirrors, and glowing eyes, which was just asking for fic exploring doppelgangers and old haunted houses. I loved writing it, and maybe I should have expected it since Kingdom Hearts is such a quiet fandom nowadays, but it honestly stung that it didn’t get more attention.

The second of those fics was a Reylo fic (yes, yes, I know, it’s an awful ship, etc. etc.) that was very much written to be slow and melancholy and kind of surreal. Sometimes my smallest fics are my favorite, and I really liked this one. But alas, some things were not meant to be.

Most fun story to write: I had a whole lot of fun writing summoning demons (and other bad first date ideas). A lot of the fics I wrote this year, particularly during October, were really fun and easy to write. I missed writing every day. This one in particular though was about 4k of Ryan accidentally summoning Shane (the demon) while Shane was standing right next to him in his human suit. It let me play with a lot of body horror tropes that I don’t explore usually, and Buzzfeed Unsolved is a very fun, fresh fandom to dig around in. This is the second of the three (I think it was three, at least) fics that I wrote for the fandom during October and I had so much fun with it.

Story that could have been better? I don’t know about better, but Sunlight and Bird Song were both supposed to be significantly longer. I wrote Sunlight shortly after watching Endgame, and it was always going to be me working my way through my issues with that movie (Loki not really coming back, weird wonky time travel, Thor leaving his people after his whole arc was him learning how to be a good king) but I got distracted and had to go somewhere that day and just never got back to it.

Bird Song is actually a fic I’ve been meaning to write for years. Ages ago (and we are truly talking ages ago, like September 2015 ages ago), @kaikamahine gave me a prompt for E, 17, and hymnal, which basically balanced out to Ronan, churches, and wings. So day 20 of October was going to be Raven Cycle (with such prompts as stacked deck, darkness, wings, and fight fire with fire, it was begging for it) and I was finally going to write Ronan wingfic. It was going to be great. There was going to be Calla and Ronan interaction and found family themes and there was going to be a church, because obviously, but then I wasn’t doing so well and ran out of time, SO. Definitely could have been better.

Story I wrote to fix things: beauty in the dissonance, the 24th fic of October, was a Tony/Loki flavored story where both Tony and Loki are, in fact, alive. Sunlight was written as a direct response to Endgame, even if it was never finished properly. make this chaos count was the 4th day of October, and written because I’m still not fucking over Ryan and Akmazian. And then knocking on heaven’s door was written just after viewing s3 of Stranger Things. It was uh, less of a fix it fic and more a wallow in your grief fic, but it still applies.

Oh, and a different kind of danger in the daylight was technically fix it fic? I’m generally okay with how Shades of Magic ended, despite my favorite character dying because it came off as a good death. However, the recipient of my Yuletide gift wanted no character death and I wanted to write something post-canon, so presto, fix it fic.

Longest completed fic this year: a different kind of danger in the daylight, followed by Cheers. Both are hovering between 6 and 7k, which isn’t technically long, but since about 90% of my fic this year was written over the course of a day each... I’ll take it.

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year: I had a lot of fun with Buzzfeed Unsolved and The Magnus Archives, but I also had fun dipping briefly back into Harry Potter and Teen Wolf.

Favorite character you wrote this year: I had way, way too much fun writing Geralt and Regis in eat you up whole. I have literally no idea if it translated into good fic, but it was fun and just shy of porny and I just really like Geralt. I also had a lot of fun writing Lila in the Shades of Magic fic.

Most memorable comment(s) this year: I got two comments from @kaikamahine about a week ago that honestly made my day. @faorism reread one of my older Stranger Things fics and left a comment, which made me reread it, which was just very good. Every single comment I got on the new Teen Wolf fics with some variation of ‘missed you’ or ‘so glad you’re back’ made me fucking melt. The two different comments where the reader wasn’t even familiar with the material, just read and enjoyed because I wrote it. The comment on one of my Stranger Things fics that just reads, “What the FUCK this SLAPPED.” The comment directly above that one that is from one of my favorite writers in the fandom. The several comments on the single PJO fic I wrote this year which were different variations of “oh my gosh it’s you” and “it’s been so long.”

And of course everyone losing their collective shit over some of the grosser October fics. Namely Itch.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t: For the most part, the fics I wanted to write but didn’t are the same as last year- Sabriel AU, Enjolras/Grantaire fic, found family Dishonored fic, bodyswappying Reylo, Sterek Bioshock and Carmilla AUs which I am likely to post as is sometime next year.

I still want to finish the Castlevania OT3 fic, the giant canon-divergent Bright Sessions AU where years after the series ends, Mark ends up running into Damien again in a small town in the middle of nowhere only to realize that he has a daughter, a farm, a life, and is just so drawn to it that he keeps coming back. I have the Wolf 359 post-canon fic where everyone has feelings and found family is a general theme and maybe Eiffel smooches an AI. I also have the smuttier Wolf 359 fic that’s been lurking in the back of my head for months where Eiffel and Kepler er, basically eiffel tower Jacobi.

Oh, and I have the Reylo fic where Rey (and Ben, through the bond) sit through General Organa’s funeral and keep coming back to each other afterwards. And that Final Fantasy 15 fic where Dino and Noctis do the nasty. And the Hera & Jacobi fic from October. And uh, the post episode 9 fic that’s been lurking about in my brain.

Oddest story: Probably i’d rather drown in your ocean? It was pretty spot on aesthetically for me, but it was weird to write Itachi and Shisui again, especially in a strange modern day vampire context? Also Itch and Nightmare were both Magnus Archive fics that were super gross (Itch) and just plain spooky and bizarre (Nightmare) but they were so fun to write. Hardest story to do: Cheers gave me some trouble initially but got a lot easier as I went on. I hit writer’s block pretty bad with the Shades of Magic fic too, but that seems to be what happens when I come up on deadlines. Easiest story to write? Most of October’s fics were a blast to write and super easy besides. Basically all of the Kingdom Hearts, Stranger Things, and Teen Wolf fic. And the Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Most mining of your own history in one story: Probably either open the walls, play with your dolls or no more dreaming like a ghost. Not in any way that really matters, but there are a couple familiar details.

Themes, or absence thereof: Mostly either spooky scary things or fix it fics. Sometimes both.

Where did you publish/archive your stories? Ao3, as per usual. Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: The only thing that I currently have planned is the post episode 9 fic and a couple things that I’ve had planned for a while that may or may not come out.

Sexiest moment (excerpt): “How many mouthfuls do you think I could take from you before it had some effect?” Regis whispers, lips against his throat. Geralt can feel the pinprick of fangs. “Four? Six? Ten? More, even?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Geralt murmurs, and Regis laughs.

“I would,” he agrees.

“So, why don’t you find out instead of boring me with all the details?”

Regis pulls away from his throat, far enough that Geralt can meet his eyes again. He swallows at what he finds there. Amusement, yes, but also hunger, brighter than the moonlight reflecting in his eyes.

“A taste, first, I think,” Regis says in a low, cool voice, and then closes the space between them.

Geralt had forgotten the blood on his lip, but he remembers it when Regis catches him in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s wet and bruising, and Geralt is responding before he remembers he shouldn’t, fighting back the only way he knows how with the rest of him indisposed. He claws at him, bites at him, and the vampire laughs when Geralt catches his plump lower lip between his teeth and bites down. Regis gives his mouth one last darting swipe of the tongue before he is pulling away.

There’s a flare of color high on Regis’s cheeks and his ears are distinctly more pointed than they were five minutes ago, the sclera of his eyes gone red.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been bitten by a human before,” Regis tells him, leaning close like he’s divulging a secret. “It’s a rather exhilarating experience.”

“I’m all for a repeat experience,” Geralt quips, eyes narrowed. “Lean in just a little and we can see if I can manage to tear off your lips before you rip out my throat.”

“Please,” she whispers, and feels herself quiver like a taut bowstring when he touches her mouth gently, with the very tips of his fingers.

He smiles and leads her away, through the demons and goblins and fae that she came here to kill.

They make it as far as the parking lot before he is hitching her up the side of a gleaming Mercedes, hooking her legs around his shoulders, and hiking her skirts up over her thighs so he can duck his head beneath them. His fingers linger for a moment on the silver of the knives strapped securely to her thigh, and then he is reaching in, guiding her underwear to the side and getting his mouth on her, right where she wants it.

She must make some kind of noise, because he chuckles, tongue circling her clit in a slow, languid way that makes her think that he is savoring her, that he likes the taste of her on his tongue.And he must, because she knows what he is. Knows that just as he’s savoring the taste of her, he is eating her, feeding off of her want like the things that she hunts in the dark feed off of blood and marrow and souls. She knows, but it isn’t enough to stop her from tilting her head back, gasping for him, the distant wink of streetlights and stars so far away.

He makes her come with his mouth on her, with his fingers inside her, and even as she’s shaking around him, she knows that it isn’t enough. She wants more, wants to feel the heavy press of him inside around, wants to kiss his lips and taste herself on his tongue.

“Please,” she says, her thighs shaking, and he laughs, pulling away and easing her down, until her legs are looped around his waist instead of her shoulders. He reaches between them, and she knows what’s happening beneath her skirts, knows that he’s getting his cock out of his pants and pressing it against her, can feel it as he sinks slowly into her, the tight fit of it so sweet, so perfect that it makes her ache.

“You’re lovely,” he whispers, kissing her shoulders and fucking into her slow, a teasing stretch that makes her mouth water, makes her twitch.

“Is this what you wanted?” Hank jeers, one finger circling the rim of Connor’s hole. There’s a flush of angry blue across his cheeks. His hair is coming loose from its usually immaculate tail, curling against his forehead. His eyes are blue. His LED is not. “To lay back and take it? From a fucking machine?”

Connor whines, back arching as Hank dips the tip of his thumb inside, just enough to hold him open.

“That is it, isn’t it?” Hanks says softly. There’s a touch of triumph to his gaze as he fucks Connor open on his thumb. Something mean, too. Disdain, slowly unfurling in the curve of his lips. He shakes his head. “All this time, coming to this bar. Talking to me like you thought I was some kind of human, and you just wanted something like me to hold you up and take you apart.”

“No,” Connor gasps, but can’t help the twist of his hips when Hank adds another finger.

“No?” Hank says with a laugh. “Look at you.”

Connor’s cock jerks against his belly as Hank drags his pants the rest of the way down his thighs. They make it as far as his knees before they tangle, stuck on his shoes. His cheeks feel hot, and he- god, he wants to protest. Wants to say that Hank’s got it all wrong, that this is more. That he’s more.

But then Hank is flipping him over, until the arm of the couch is digging firmly into his belly, his ass high in the air. Hank pulls his fingers out, then leans over and spits, the cool slippery slide of the saliva trailing down the curve of his ass.

“All right, Connor,” he says. “This what you want? I’ll give it to you.”

No, Connor should say. It isn’t like that.

Instead, he says, “Please.”

Crackiest moment (excerpt):

“Did you just sneak into my house?” Stiles breathes, absurdly charmed.

Derek’s in his human disguise, everything dangerous about him hidden away from view, lurking just under the surface. He gives Stiles a look, and says, “Don’t be weird about it.”

He shuts the door behind him.

“I’ve got a nice monster knocking on my door just before the witching hour,” Stiles tells him playfully, making room for Derek to take a seat next to him. “How am I not supposed to be weird about that?”

Derek does something akin to rolling his eyes, the flames doing a little shimmy around the circumference of his eye sockets. He leans back against Stiles’s headboard, seemingly unconcerned that their sides are pressed together. Derek’s skin is very warm, human warm, and Stiles is all bones. He sucks up the warmth greedily.

“I’d say you make my heart pound, but well…” Stiles nods meaningfully to his chest, where if you look hard enough between the slots of his ribs, you can see the lump of muscle that once was his heart, pointedly not beating. “You know.”

“What’s the local legend about this thing?” Shane asks, hopping up onto the throne easily and spreading out, eyes on the night sky. He looks good. He always looks good, but Ryan likes him best like this, out here with the moonlight shining down on them and the camera catching all his best angles.

As Ryan watches, he blinks, and turns to look at Ryan, puzzled. “Ryan?”

Ryan clears his throat. “The locals say that if you make a wish while sitting on her throne, the witch will grant it.”

Shane gives him a wicked smile and hums a few bars of Genie in a Bottle. Ryan chokes out a laugh, crossing the space between them until he’s leaning up against the side of the throne himself.

Shane closes his eyes. “I wish, I wish with all my might, please dear god, let there be ghosts here this night.”

Ryan holds his breath.

“C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

All around them, the world is still.

Shane cracks an eye open and squints at him. “Did it work?”

“Jon?” someone asks, and Jon blinks.

Martin is standing before him. He’s wearing something out of another time, a costume of silken breeches with a well-cut waistcoat of a rich, opalescent blue. There’s a puffy cravat hugging his neck, and polished buckled shoes on his feet. Jon almost expects him to be wearing a wig, but his hair is the one thing that’s been left untouched, hanging loose around his chin.

“Martin?” Jon asks.

Martin seems to take him in, his eyes running slowly down Jon’s body, lingering at his wrists, his waist, his thighs. It’s a bold sort of move, one that Martin would never be half so blatant about if he were awake.

“You, er. Look nice,” Martin says, and Jon glances down at himself.

He’s sure that moments ago he’d been wearing the same thing he’d worn to the office, shabby coat, mostly clean shirt, a pair of nondescript trousers that didn’t have any stains. But now, he finds himself in a dress. The gown is long and brilliantly red, the skirts heavy around his thighs. There are embroidered patterns reminiscent of roses along the bodice and down the front of his petticoat.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, still staring. Experimentally, he moves his hips, and finds that the skirts swish obligingly with the movement.

“Yes, well,” Martin murmurs, cheeks flushing horribly. “You always did look rather good in red.”

“In red-” Jon repeats in horror. “Martin, I’m in a gown.”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt):

“Are you ever going to stop looking for me?” Akmazian asks him one night.

Ryan is tired. Akmazian is a shadowed figure in the dark that he tries not to look at too closely, because if he does, Akmazian will be gone.

“Maybe,” Ryan tells him, and turns over onto his side. Away from the shadow, the ghost.

The bed dips under the weight of a person who isn’t really there, and Ryan can feel Akmazian’s breath on the back of his neck, warm and damp.

“Don’t touch me,” Ryan says, and means, I don't want this to end yet.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, darlin',” Akmazian murmurs back, then drags his lips over the back of his neck anyway, just to be contrary. Ryan swallows, his throat dry, tongue thick in his mouth. He clenches his fingers in the sheets, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that his vision stains red behind his eyelids.

“Please,” Ryan says.

“You really should stop looking for me,” Akmazian tells him, fingers creeping across Ryan’s ribcage, mapping the architecture of his ribs.

“I know.”

“You’re never going to find me.”

Ryan laughs. “Never say never.”

There is silence behind him and then, “Ryan. Please. You’re hurting yourself.”

Ryan trembles a little when a hand lands on his hip, just this side of too solid.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re hurting the stars.”

Ryan is silent for a moment. Then, “I just miss you.”

A sigh.

“I know,” Akmazian murmurs, and leans over to place a kiss on Ryan’s forehead. “I miss you too.”

Ryan opens his eyes, turns to look, and like always, Akmazian is gone.

“Look,” Potter says, audibly slurring. “I’ve had an idea.”

Draco crosses his arms. “And what, pray tell, is this idea of yours, Potter?”

Potter leans forward, using a hand to prop himself up, until he’s well into Draco’s personal space. He smells like beer and whiskey, and his cheeks and jaw are more beard than stubble.

“Break your curse with me,” he breathes, a hand settling atop Draco’s blanket-clad knee.

Draco swallows. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“No, look,” Potter says, leaning in even closer, eyes a bit wild. “We can just… you know.”

“No, Potter,” Draco tells him. “I don’t know.”

But he does. He really does.

“You know,” Potter says again. “Shag it out.”

“I think that you’re confusing things again,” Draco says tiredly. He sets the book on the nightstand next to him. “Remember the terms of the curse? Love, Potter. Not sex.”

Potter’s nose wrinkles. “But sex is part of love. Usually, anyway. It’ll work, I know it.”

“It won’t,” Draco insists, slapping Potter’s hand away when it begins to wander up his thigh. “Do you really think that I didn’t shag my wife before she left me? Because I did. We tried for years. Years, Potter. Trust me, if the curse were going to break because of a fuck, it would have happened well before now.”

Potter blinks at him, his eyes wide. There’s a ruddy flush on his cheeks, and Draco’s not sure if he likes it.

“We could at least try,” Potter says, almost gently. He doesn’t touch Draco again, but he looks like he wants to, hand trembling where it lays on the bedspread.

It feels like there’s glass in Draco’s throat. He is so, so tempted. Here is what he wanted - or at least part of it - Potter in his bed begging to fuck him, and he’s going to have to send him away.

“I think you should leave,” he tells him, and Potter’s mouth shuts with a click.

Favorite lines (excerpt):

“Relax,” he croons, stroking her fingers before he pulls away. “Your secret is safe with me. Most of this crowd knows that I’m not on speaking terms with that side of my family. They won’t suspect you because of me.”

Her face is flushed, either from rage or humiliation. Possibly both.

“So you-”

“Yes,” he says, fingers dropping to caress the fabric of her gown, swirling a thumb around the sweeping petals of an embroidered rose. His gaze is sly, a bit predatory when he glances back up at her. “I know what you have under this pretty skirt of yours.”

Rey’s breath catches, and she feels something- a slow trickle of heat seeping in to pool around her navel. She shifts, thighs sliding together, and hopes that he can’t smell her.

“Just as I know exactly what you’re doing right now,” she tells him in a hard whisper, jerking away from his grip on her elbow.

His eyes widen, affecting a look of innocence - a ‘who me?’ - that isn’t quite as effective when his lips are also curling up into a slow, pleased smirk.

“And what exactly am I doing?” he asks, his eyes laughing at her.

She glares at him. That seems to be enough of a reply, because he chuckles before taking possession of her arm again and pulling her smoothly towards the dance floor. Once they’ve reached the edge of it, he stops, dropping her elbow in favor of dipping into a low, courtly bow.

He looks up at her from under heavy lids, his hair sweeping forward to frame his face. “May I have this dance?”

The dance floor is crowded, full to the brim of masked people sweeping by in jewel-bright dresses and dark suits. She knows not to - knows that this place is a lot like fae courts of old. You don’t eat the food, you don’t drink the wine, and you definitely don’t dance.

But she’s already drank the wine, so she might as well dance.

The ship wrecks several hundred miles off of the coast of Karnaca. The storm that ends them is a rare sort, fiercer than most, a huge bank of dark clouds that seems to come from the void itself, blooming on the horizon like a warning. The lightning cracks the world asunder, thunder deafening, but it's the wind and waves that will always be a ship’s downfall.

Corvo watched the wave approach, saw its frothing white caps and the way it had stretched, higher and higher, until it loomed over the ship.

They never had a chance, and by the time the wave came crashing down, Corvo was already holding his breath.

Much of what he remembers after are mere snippets: the gulping suck of the water around him, broken pieces of the ship spinning by along with those of the crew who were unlucky enough to be caught by the ship’s pull, sucked down into the void, devoured by the whale god himself. He remembers his first gasp of air once he’d surfaced, the tang of brine and salt heavy on his tongue as wave after wave battered his body.

He doesn’t think that most of the crew survived the first few minutes much less the whole night, and he is certainly alone when the sun blossoms on the horizon hours later, clinging to a piece of ship the size of his torso and kicking relentlessly towards the dawn.

Corvo grew up on the coast, his hair stiff with salt from the ocean breeze. He grew up in and out of the water, hauling cargo or gutting fish on the docks. He’s familiar with the ocean - how the pull of the tides work, which days its best to avoid the dock, how to escape the sea’s wrath when a riptide or an undercurrent tries its damndest to drown you.

So he knows that his chances of making it to land are slim. But Corvo has always been stubborn, his legs have always been strong, and his story is far from finished.

Stiles buys a house in Virginia. It’s a modest thing close to Quantico, but not too close, tucked away into the heart of the wooded Appalachians. The bones of the house is all stonework and sturdy dark wood, a rickety wraparound porch bracketing the house on all sides. The first thing that he’d bought for it were two overpriced rocking chairs he’d gotten from the nearest Cracker Barrel.

Over the course of a year, he fills the house with things. A soft, dark gray sofa. Several solid end tables. A pair of emerald lamps he gets from an antique shop. A moss-green throw that is warm as a hug when it’s wrapped around his shoulders in the dead of winter. His living room is a bit too mountain man chic, but he likes the way that it looks when he’s coming home from a long day at the academy, warm and inviting.

He gets his bed set from a woodworker a couple dozen miles down the road, a man with a gruff bristled gray face and a warm smile, who trades Stiles the custom set for some warding and a couple bottles of what he calls, ‘miracle elixir.’ The set is sturdy mahogany, a pair of wolves carved across the top of the curving headboard, runes filling the gaps between them. The chest of drawers and dresser are just as solid, and Stiles has to hire movers to help him get everything back to the house.

The bulky rednecks decked out in worn flannel that help him with it carefully avoid looking at the runes of the headboard, their eyes skittering away from the carvings like frightened rabbits. They exchange apprehensive looks when they see the herbs drying over the sink in his kitchen, but to their credit, stay quiet and hightail it out of the place when he pays them. Here in the Appalachian backwoods, no one talks about magic, but everyone knows it exists.

Stiles has people over every once in a while - flies his dad and Scott in from California, has Lydia drive down from Boston, or Kira from North Carolina - but mostly, he’s alone. It’s a strange thing to get used to, the silence of the nights out here, where the night sky is bright and clear enough to see the stars above him, not a hint of light pollution to be seen, and the trees rustling in a quiet wind is almost louder than the hoots and hollers of the local wildlife.

He’d thought it would be lonely, and to be fair, sometimes it is.

Some nights he comes home and collapses back onto his sofa, and would do anything to be right down the road from Scott and Melissa and his dad again. He has days where he craves Melissa’s pozole or his dad’s meatloaf so badly that he can taste the heat of it on his tongue.

But mostly, the quiet is nice.

He cooks himself soups that simmer in the slow cooker while he’s at the academy and roasts that he makes on the weekends. He experiments with food the way he never used to back in Beacon Hills, where he had his dad’s heart to worry about if he made anything, and fast food which was easier to grab when he didn’t. He takes a world tour through his kitchen - homemade pierogi, hearty paella, steaming pirozhki, spicy-smelling curries, and hand rolled sushi. The first time that he makes his own bread in the ancient oven that came with the house, the smell of it coming fresh out of the oven is so good that he nearly cries.

It’s three winters into living there before he hears a scratching at his door in the middle of the night, and when he goes to investigate, finds a large black wolf on his doorstep.

It’s favoring one of its paws, dark fur matted on one side of its head where he can dimly make out a sluggishly bleeding gash. It blinks at him, eyes glowing a bright, familiar blue, and Stiles spends a minute watching it before he smiles and steps aside.

Fic goals: Hey Heather, it was only 800 words, but you did technically write something original. Now, let’s do something original that’s a little longer. And while we’re at it, let’s do something novel length.

#heather says what #heather writes #2019 #new year's memes

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