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love-takes-work · 3 months

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WHAT WAS THIS SHOW ABOUT?

One thing I really love about Steven Universe is that each of the four major characters kind of got a chance to be What The Show Was About. I would have LOVED spending more time with all of them and delving into who they were and who they became beyond what we got, but what we got was . . . actually pretty special.

STEVEN

As the ACTUAL main character and the show's literal namesake, it's obvious he's the protagonist. Our man has been through a lot and I don't suppose anyone would say he never got his moment considering he was there for the whole show. But except for some pretty important identity stuff that depended on his choices in the last episode of the OG show, a LOT of Steven Universe is stuff that happened to and around Steven. There was so much history and so much baggage that a lot of the story was about how he fended it off, dealt with it, fought it, reasoned with it, and managed everyone's emotions in the process.

Steven is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: being half human, being extremely young, being Rose Quartz's son, and having Diamond-level powers and a claim to the Pink Diamond throne.

We had to wait for Steven Universe Future before the show was entirely focused on him, his development, his trauma, and his healing.

Some episodes from the original show focused on Steven's mental health and growth as a person--most notably "Mindful Education"--but we just didn't get to linger very long with his development until the epilogue show because plot stuff was always happening, other people's feelings were taking center stage, and worlds needed saving. I'm really glad we got Steven Universe Future for that reason. Some people disagreed, but I felt like it was a long overdue look into the soul of who he is--how his central defining character trait was his selflessness, and how desperately he needed to address that without having it manifest in a toxic way in the tradition of Jasper, White Diamond, or Pink Diamond.

AMETHYST

It could be argued that Amethyst had the most careful, nuanced, significant character growth of the three supporting Gems in the show. And it started immediately in the first season, when she constantly squabbled with Pearl and revealed that she felt judged and stifled and treated like a misbehaving child as early as "Tiger Millionaire."

Amethyst is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: She's the clear outsider as the one who didn't fight in the war, the only full Gem from Earth in the group, the only Gem who grew up with no Homeworld dogma but also no roots, the only Gem who'd never met another one of her own and longed on some level for that connection.

The show continues to check in with Amethyst's self-worth issues throughout, giving us "An Indirect Kiss," "On the Run," "Maximum Capacity," "Reformed," and even "Cry For Help" (which seemed like an Amethyst episode until Pearl did her thing). We get "Onion Friend" when Amethyst shows us she thinks she's boring and that nobody values her. And we get "Too Far" when Amethyst really starts to internalize her inferiority based on Peridot's assessment of her and revelations of her origin.

With her cooking on that, we end up spending a string of episodes with Amethyst as the focus character. She's still shaking off dust about not doing what she's supposedly made for when a fight with Jasper twists the knife. She's beaten and insulted and almost physically destroyed, having to be rescued by Stevonnie. Steven misguidedly tries to cheer her up by letting her win at video games and she reveals that she thinks she's "the worst Crystal Gem." She finds an ally in him but still wrestles with her inferiority to Jasper. And when she still can't beat her in a rematch, she breaks down and realizes her strength is in togetherness. From there, she begins the process of healing, helped along by additional support from her family and finding some connection with meeting the Famethyst. When "Tiger Philanthropist" comes along and reveals that Amethyst doesn't need the outlet of wrestling anymore because she DOES feel she's good enough, we can reflect on what she's been through and how far she's come, and how that leads to her being the one who doesn't fall apart on Steven in the face of huge revelations about his mother.

GARNET

Garnet kind of peaked early, which is not to say it wasn't great. The final episode of Season 1 revealed her identity as a Fusion and further that she was "made of love," and then everyone was on the "Garnet is awesome" train.

Garnet is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: being a Fusion all the time, leading the team and generally holding the others at an emotional distance, never asking questions, offering resources to the others for stability and balance, being the only Gem with Future Vision and a massive responsibility to use it well.

"Jailbreak" was a huge defining moment for Garnet, and as the "stable" character whose worst problems were mostly other people's problems, she did not seem to need a character arc. She was the culmination of a love story, always awesome and strong and dependable and everyone leaned on her, and in "Jailbreak" we found out why she has such an amazing foundation. But the show was not done with Garnet. Not by a long shot.

Pearl hurt her badly in "Cry For Help." Garnet's breakdown and subsequent focus on building Pearl back up was a significant look into how Ruby and Sapphire operate as a couple. Garnet is amazing partly because she is the result of all that work, but who is she as a person? As an individual who isn't an individual?

We see some of her struggle with leadership as the show moves on--most notably "Pool Hopping," and some of the last episodes when she can't make decisions in the Diamonds' shadow because everything's become about Steven's choices. But Garnet gets a spotlight again when Ruby and Sapphire feel differently about the Pink Diamond revelations and they worry Garnet only exists because of a lie. Digging into the real answers of who they are together through finally asking "The Question," and defining their fusion in their own image, was a move toward more authentic stability for Garnet. Her wedding made headlines, and watching her spearhead the immediate fight against the Diamonds on the beach was awe-inspiring.

PEARL

Pearl is initially presented as "the perfect one"--she's persnickety, she's organized, she's hyper-competent, and she's all about rules. But something else is going on with her not far beneath the surface. The first Gem to die onscreen--because of overconfidence and a silly mistake. The first (full) Gem to cry onscreen (and then over and over and over), the first to have a breakdown (and then over and over and over), the only one of the four to have faced an impossible choice, a relationship that nearly destroyed her, and a secret that ate her up from the inside. She was the only one who had (nearly) the whole story. All along.

Pearl is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: the oldest Gem of the group by far, the one who served a Diamond and kept Rose Quartz's secret against her own will, the one who doesn't eat, sleep, or shapeshift. The one who both sat at royalty's right hand and existed as the lowest form of Gem life--created to be a servant, with programming no other type of Gem must live with. Her anxiety, grief, and desperate loneliness makes her one of the most multifaceted and interesting characters in animation history.

We see some minor wigging out from Pearl in "An Indirect Kiss" and a more intense version of it in "Space Race," but we get a much clearer picture that Pearl is Not Okay in "Rose's Scabbard." At that point we assume she thought she was closer to Rose than she really was--that she thought herself special and partial to secrets no one else knew, but that it wasn't true. "Rose's Scabbard" is a different episode on rewatch. Pearl is right that she alone was the one Rose "told everything." She did have a special relationship with her that the others did not.

Pearl's insecurity continues to bite us in the face as the show goes on. She tries to mold Connie into a self-sacrificial super-soldier after her own image in "Sworn to the Sword." Her deep need for someone strong to tell her what to do leads her to betray Garnet in "Cry For Help." Her inability to appropriately make it up to Garnet further complicates our understanding of how she can be so lost. Her jealousy, inertia, and angst frustrate her relationships, with some nice resolution in "Mr. Greg." Peridot's lore drop about Pearls' slave status sheds light on this, and seeing her get underestimated and bossed around by other Homeworld Gems is disheartening as we move on, but when we finally find out that she was Rose's secret accomplice in a false murder that poisoned thousands of their own citizens and led to massive waves of death, and that Pearl's free will to speak about it was also ripped away from her, we finally know, we know why she's been so brittle she could snap all along. She's been trapped inside herself all this time--in an almost literal way--and it's a wonder she's managed to carry on. Pearl's arcs have often been deemed the most emotionally fraught and tinged with gray morality.

These characters all got some very important story arcs focused on them in the midst of moving the plot along. I think the show did a phenomenal job with not only emotional development but with fallout for the other characters. We got to see the Gems' (and other loved ones') reactions when Steven's mental health took a nosedive, and watched them learn more about how to be there for him. We got to see Steven's initially misguided attempts to hype Amethyst up when she was spiraling, leading to him offering her what she actually did need, along with Garnet and Pearl (as Sardonyx) misfiring a bit when they wanted to celebrate Smoky Quartz. We got to see Steven's curiosities and misgivings about Garnet's life as a Fusion, and how Garnet affects others when she does crack under the strain, and how Steven must step up to leadership when Ruby and Sapphire are separated and how Amethyst tries to take care of him while Pearl has a guilt spiral. And we see how Pearl's choices led to Garnet's silent treatment, Amethyst's sulky helplessness, and Steven's attempt to hold the family together; we see how Pearl's confession reformats everyone's understanding of who the Crystal Gems are and why they're even here.

And even when the show is taking careful turns with each character to paint their nuanced feelings and troubles on the screen, it still managed to give us such a worthwhile overall story, with action and backstory and worldbuilding and everything. What's different about it is that the center was always its people--their relationships, their psyches, their evolution and education. I truly love the balance these creators chose, and I remain grateful that we got to experience this story.

#steven universe #my su analysis #character analysis #myblog

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the-owl-house-takes · 4 months

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this show is unbelievably racist and fatphobic holy shit. willow is meant to be plus-size and she's smaller than steven universe at his thinnest. and that's before the epilogue when she's no fatter than the rest of the main characters. outside of maybe one of willow's dads no one is allowed to have a belly. they all have to have tapered waists for some reason. and then you have the fact that the crew just flat out doesn't care about gus. he doesn't even have a confirmed sexuality. the crew didn't even bother to make him more than a studio mandate. speaking of which, i know people will be like "but disney could only let them get away with so much!" disney wasn't stopping them from writing good fat characters or characters of color let's be real. disney shows from the 2000s were less racist and fatphobic because even if these characters were stereotypes, they were still there getting focus. the crew just didn't even try.

#the owl house #toh #toh critical #racism mention #fatphobia mention #Gus porter #Willow park

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riftfic · 9 months

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So, it's finally finished. Now what?

Well, a few things. First of all I have a surprise coming so don't peace out just yet. :) It might take a second, though. I feel like I have no right to ask for patience anymore lol but I promise I have something up my sleeve.

Second, as I mentioned in my notes after the epilogue, I'm considering writing an exploration of the aftermath. A slice of life thing about how the characters deal, kind of like what Steven Universe did with Future. I don't want to spoil the ending of Rift for anyone new or still reading, so I'll put the details below the cut.

And third of all . . . thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Having the completed story out in the world feels somehow both full and empty. It's been rocking around my head for years and to finally have it out of me is just . . . It's an odd emotion and I don't know how to describe it. I don't think I've been through something quite like this before.

What I will say is that I'm incredibly grateful to every person who read this story: past, present, and future. I'm not sure how far it would have gone without your support. Words aren't enough, but they're all I have.

Thank you so much. 💙

Now for the spoilery bits. ;)

The second part would primarily follow Dings as he navigates his new life on the Surface, reconnects with family and friends, tackles his trauma (both preexisting and from the void), and comes to grips with his mental illness. It would allow me to get into some things that weren't exactly relevant to Rift but I would like to explore. For instance, you might have noticed that Wingdings and Sans have very different perspectives on their mother's absence. There's a reason for that. He has hangups on humans for related reasons as well, which would be an obstacle to overcome. Their past has been left a mystery I'd like to excavate. And I don't know about you, but I personally want to see Dings and Papyrus bond already because dammit they barely know each other anymore and that sucks!

There's also a lot of potential to face how Frisk deals with the new normal. If I regret anything, it's that Sans took over the narrative of Rift to the point I felt there wasn't quite enough room to truly resolve Frisk's new perspective as Chara. Asriel was thrown to the backburner as well. That plus the reality about how the resets only affected those in the Rift's sphere of influence could lead to some interesting conflict. I imagine it's been really hard on Frisk. If anything, their arc in Rift took them to a darker place in contrast to Sans' heading to a lighter one.

Speaking of Sans . . . though he left off in a good place overall, there's the hard truth that Dings just isn't going to be the same after what he went through. The same is true for Sans, of course. There's potential for further healing and coming to terms with their relationship now versus then.

In short, it would mostly be about healing (as is pretty much everything I write, I've come to realize). Hurt/comfort like Rift but not nearly as high stakes or intense. It would be much lighter in tone: some comedic moments, some heartfelt ones, some tense ones. Slice of life, like I said.

What do you think? 😅

#undertale #undertale fanfic #rift #frisk #sans #gaster #fanfic #fanfiction #thank you

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curemoonliite · 1 month

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It's happening, guys! It's a little late, but I finally got some inspo for my IYGALL 10th anniversary story thanks to @rarilight. Her latest story gave me a lot of ideas on what Coco's life might be like 10 years later and I really appreciate the feedback she's given me on this one. I may or may not end up retconning some things (I kinda wanna make this a story about Coco being an empty nester, so her second child with Scene may be cut) and I don't even really want to touch ships with a 10-foot pole, but otherwise, I'm excited to explore where everyone is after the events of the original. So check out my anniversary oneshot on my FiMFiction account (Quillamore), coming soon!

Fun fact: I very nearly called this story "All Was Well" as a way of clowning on That Author Who Shall Not Be Named and her notoriously terrible epilogue, lol. Something about making those the last words of her series and not exploring the characters beyond the nextgen kids and stuff never sat right with me, even as a child (and of course even less about her sits right with me now that I'm an adult). I hope to make this a much better, more fulfilling epilogue.

I always did say that if I were to write a sixth act for IYGALL, I'd call it "Love Like You" after the Steven Universe song. Now I finally get the chance to, thanks to you. You all are the "you" in my title and I can't thank you enough for the 10 years I had with you on FiMFiction.

To quote PBS, this program is made possible by viewers like you. Thank you.

#mlp:fim #fanfiction #my post #if you give a little love #writing

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queen-of-elves · 1 year

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Under the moon

Steven grant x fem!reader

Soulmate AU

Epilogue

Summary: You always thought you were alone, without a soulmate, but the universe loves surprises.

Word count: almost 3K

Warnings: sweet but very angsty? I tried lol, some swearing etc.

A/N: Y/S - soulmark of your choosing, I didn’t want to choose a soulmark that represents Y/N. :) btw the timeline is way off and apparently I don’t care about it so

P.S.: to this day I am still thinking about Soulmate AU w Bucky Barnes (read it at least 5 years ago) where reader is only soulmate of Winter Soldier, so this is sort of inspired, and for the love of me I can’t find the fanfiction, therefore if someone would be so lovely and let me know if you recognize it from my poor summary.

Since you were born, you were one of the unlucky few, without a soulmate, without your second half. It was not that bad actually, not that bad as everyone tends to imagine. You can’t really miss something you don’t have, what you actually never had, can you?

Where everyone's wrist was decorated by a mark of their soulmate, something that represented them on a personal level, you had a blank space. Where your wrist was meant to be grazed by ink and color, there was absolutely nothing. It never really bothered you, you had your little quiet life and that was enough for you. Living in a world full of superheroes and aliens kinda does that to you.

However, from time to time the realization of your situation overwhelms you, hits you really low, just like now. One of your friends, Marcy, invited you for a celebration party of them finding their soulmate. It happened like in those romantic movies, or that’s what she tells everyone. One look and they knew, didn’t even have to check their soulmarks.

Lucky.

Marcy and Tom were adorable; you couldn’t deny it, all heart-eyes and little kisses. And yes, there was joy in your heart for them but the sting of jealousy every time you saw them was apparent. Heavy on your chest was the sadness you were meant to carry alone for the rest of your life.

The thought of soulmates started to consume your mind more often then you have anticipated after the announcement from Marcy. You expected to think about it from time to time, sure, the whole world was obsessed with them after all, but you? Not so much. However, Marcy constantly posted and talked about her amazing relationship with Tom even though they met just two weeks ago. And it just pissed you off. Never ever have you felt like this, even in middle school where kids happily showed each other their soulmate marks, leaving you feeling bad about the blank skin, or in college when everyone started to meet their soulmates.

This party is going to be a nightmare. Fuck.

***

The party was worse than a nightmare, even though you love Marcy to death, she was insufferable. Clinging to Tom the whole time and everytime the conversation wasn’t about them she would gladly navigate it back. You suppose that’s how everyone with a newly discovered soulmate acts, they are their world afterall.

You have spent the rest of the party hiding away from her, because you could handle talking about soulmates only to some degree, and drinking, happily and heavily drinking! Alcohol often makes you warm and fuzzy so why not now, you had needed that to cheer you up.

And at the end of the long night Marcy couldn’t let you leave, probably after seeing you mix gin and tonic into a big bowl and then putting a colorful straw into it. Sometimes you were not really proud of your drinking habits...

So after everyone left, Marcy told you to go sleep on her couch, draped a blanket over you and put a bucket next to your lying form. It sort of reminded you of one of those sleepovers you used to have when you were both in middle school.

This would have been a magnificent last thought before closing your eyes and going to sleep if it weren’t for the annoying tingling sensation on your skin.

If she has bed bugs on her couch, I will kill her. You thought, opening your eyes and vigorously scratching your arm while you sat up. And when the haze dissolved and you could finally turn your focus on your wrist. You couldn't believe your eyes.

Soulmark, your own soulmark. One second there was nothing and now a crescendant shape was adoring your wrist in a black outline. The waxing crescent staring at you in its hollow beauty, insolent mark of universe on your life.

“No-,” you stared unmovingly down at your arm, whispering softly as if saying it louder would erase it,”-way.” You felt like breaking down, now of all times you have a soulmate? Were they born now? Or did they lose their soulmate and the universe assigned you together? So many questions and even the internet could answer only a few, plus Marcy’s wifi was shit so it took a horrendous amount of time to find anything.

But in the end, even the palpation in your chest had yet to stop and tears kept on running down the slope of your cheeks, when the thought struck you. You had someone you were meant to be with, a SOULMATE.

***

The revelation of having a mark happened a few months ago and nothing has changed since, crescendant moon mark still on and slightly less mocking by now.

You had quite the thought about it and you decided that it was… fine, just fine. People have soulmates, it's a thing, so it's… FINE, right? Yeah, you were kinda panicking about it.

Why now of all the time?

Also was London always so cheerful? The stereotypical image of gloomy streets with a rainy haze contradicting the one you were rushing through. It was late afternoon and the streets were buzzing with people, the veins of the city working steadily, keeping the whole organism alive. Maybe your mood would be better if the weather was gloomy, if people were all irritated and nasty. Then it would make more sense for you to be annoyed with your life.

This one time the universe decided to listen to your wishes, a harass push sent you flying backwards, stumbling into the person standing behind you, both of you tumbling on the dirty pavement of the bus stop. The gravel scraped one of your palms but otherwise your fall was cushioned by the person behind you.

Universe just couldn’t give you a break, it seemed.

“Oh my, you alright? Let me just-,” hand extended to help you up with your tote bag already picked up and dusted off in the other.” help you up. There.” The sting in your palm distracted you from any further examination of the extended arm in front of you. And before you could blink again, you were at your feet with your silly little tote bag bestowed in your hand. Well almost-, your knight in shining armor noticed scraps of gravel entombed in your skin and a tenuous stream of blood trickling down, before he could hand it to you fully. “Oh my, that looks nasty.” If you haven’t realized before, now you have, his voice was the sweetest thing ever, like it was wrapping you in a blanket and shushing you to go back to sleep, that kind of sweet.

God, do I have a concussion? At this idea you jumped away from him, giving him quite the scare.

The realization hits you quite slowly, soulmark, your soulmark was grazing his tanned wrist and intertwined with Y/S. Oh, so there he was, your soulmate.

It took him just a few seconds to come to the same conclusion and now his eyes were bulging out of its sockets, staring bewildered at your mark, while his mark was peeking from under his coat’s sleeve.

This was it, wasn't it? The moment in which you absolutely knew that no matter what happens you can't get on without this feeling. You felt so warm and happy like never before, as if you had seen the sun for the first time. Was it the same for everyone or was it just you? Maybe it was a no-soulmate-before thing and to experience being in the presence of your soulmate was just too much for those like you. Your heart was beating very fast, sprinting miles to nowhere… was it also normal? All of this seemed so unusual. Perhaps you were dying, cardiac arrest is always on the table, isn’t it?

And then he smiled and all of it got more intense, more sunshine in your life, the warmth spreading through you now scorching your insides and you couldn’t get enough of it.

He stood slumped, the coat hanging on him, trying to hide his figure completely to unwanted attention, but still framing him in your adoring gaze as the most handsome man in the whole vast world.

“Please be real.” Whisper left your lips before you could register that your mouth opened. This seemed to brighten his mood even more, your comment not weirding him out at all. As if for him it was an acceptable norm, to doubt the existence of human beings standing in front of him.

************

“I don't understand it. So we got magically assigned together? Aren’t soulmates designed from birth?”

“I am just as stumped as you. Honestly, all of this is a bit bonkers!” He exhaled as if out of absolute relief, contradicting his words.

You and Steven were now sitting on an ugly painted park bench near the bus stop. And while the conversation was not smoothly pacing as you had anticipated and in your nervous state you kept peeling off the chipped green paint from the metal bench, Steven was very polite. He told you his name right after the two of you labeled each other as real people, not just a construct of your lonely minds (and lack of sleep in Steven’s case).

And now that you had time to fully look at him, you deemed your soulmate as the most handsome man in the whole world. Dark unruly hair falling into his eyes seemed too fluffy to your liking, maybe it was the need to touch it that made you lovingly hate it. You really loved to look at him, as if he was a piece of art even though his posture was never changing, clothes hanging on his frame as if trying to hide him and oftentimes it seemed as if his tongue was not adjusted to speak in such a way.

He fits perfectly in your life but in his, in some odd way he seemed to struggle to adjust.

So, from your first interaction with your soulmate you have gathered only a little information, obviously his name, the fact that he works in a gift shop in the National Art Gallery and his undying love for Egyptian mythology. As the conversation moves on you have yet to check off any of the boxes in your red flag list, so far so good then. It also did not end up with just Steven talking about himself, he asked you a ton of questions (he later apologized for it ‘cause he felt like he was simply intruding) which not a lot of guys do, based on your narrow experience with blind dates and stuff like Tinder.

And as time flew by you realized Steven’s lovely brown irises never left you, not even for a split second did his attention shift, as if in his eyes you were the sun. Well he for sure was in yours, warm and light gifting sphere, from now on the center of your universe.

**************

It has been weeks since you have met him and so far everything was going great, more than great, Steven was nothing but sweetheart to you but still there was the milestone of spending a night at one’s place was still yet to be crossed. When this question first came, Steven seemed hesitant at the idea of spending the night at someone else’s place or maybe it was about you. Maybe he was hesitant about you spending the night as his?

You basically mutually decided that this part of dating could wait, there is no race to be won so why to rush it, right? This seemed to soothe the worry rising in both of you. And there were other bridges to be crossed so you both turned your attention to them.

Steven was a sweetheart since the start of you two, could you actually call it dating tho? Neither of you have spoken out about it, setting in the borders of the relationship. Yes, objectively speaking how you spend the time with your soulmate would be sorted into the category of dating but neither of you have called your meetings a date yet. It was nerve wracking, simply dancing around the topic in every conversation, you trying not to make him uncomfortable and Steven in the same position but on the opposite side.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you were done being anxious over something so silly. So you took the first step and texted him.

You thought that the giggling and kicking your legs in the air era was done by the time you turned 20 and apparently it was not. Keeping your excitement over him was too hard for you to contemplate over even attempting at it. Steven just made your heart buzz with a newfound energy.

It was impossible to imagine someone else as your soulmate, it was even more inimaginable to try to picture someone more perfect than the lovely museum gift shopist. ‘Cause Steven’s never ending politeness sometimes caught you off guard, he opened doors for you, bought you flowers and even sweet little pastries from the expensive bakery near his flat. You could not fathom how he could be insecure about himself, every single woman you knew would have died for Steven of their own.

You couldn’t imagine someone more perfect, maybe because Steven was just the definition of perfect.

**********************

You were in ecstasy, you finally sort of convinced Steven to spend the night at your place. Fully innocent idea of movie night with the hope of it turning into a some kind of sleepover. He didn’t seem so eager but movie night sounded too good to his ears for declination. And yes, you two had the deal and all, however it’s been almost three weeks and the impatience in both of you started to rise to the surface.

Everything was ready, finding the movie Steven talked about last week was the only and the biggest obstacle in your journey for a full night with Steven as a company but even that you have successfully conquered.

Nothing could have stopped you now, nothing could have ruined your excellent mood tonight. Well, there was one thing, this feeling that something terrible was on the horizon, a sort of hunch that something was not quite right. You tried to push it deep inside, to not think about it but the feeling persisted. So you kept busy, waiting at first patiently for Steven’s arrival and then very impatiently pacing the floor of your flat, still keeping the appearance of being busy. Checking if you had his favorite tea in the cupboard, enough popcorn or inspecting the cleanliness of the coffee table on which you have placed snacks for you two.

He was late, he always was a bit late, well, he was always late and usually it was not a bit. Waiting sort of became your strong suit after meeting Steven, so you sat down on the sofa checking your phone to see how late he was.

And then you saw it, a bad omen. This had to be a nightmare, was the universe playing a cruel trick on you? Has nothing of it been real? Had you only dreamed of him the whole time?

No, it was real. Your still dirty beige tote bag laying on the kitchen counter strengthened the conviction of your senses that the encounter with your soulmate, and he, himself, were real. However your wrist was now bare, disproving all of it again. You felt nothing though, no pain in your wrist, absolutely nothing that would indicate change.

You were positioned at the start again, fresh clean start insisting that nothing happened, so what if you imagined him and the soulmark the whole time. Nothing changed, you could never feel lost for something you never had, right?But you had him, he was yours and he was real.

Shivering from the sudden drops, cold like ice, rolling down the sides of your neck and staining your sleeping shirt, you realized how this thought process was wrong. All of it was wrong. You felt him, it had to be real, you shouldn’t doubt his existence.

You felt stuck. Skin petrified in the momentum where you could still doubt if the universe was having a laugh over you or if all of this was just a big misunderstanding, somehow.

And only the moon now stands to you as a companion, looking down at you from the dark night sky and casting every surface in gentle glow with the soft light passing through the room, reflecting on every metal.

So under the light of your only faithful companion you weep for your lost love. The universe for sure loved being cruel.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #mcu #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #mcu fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader

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sjsmith56 · 7 months

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Lord Buchanan - Series Masterlist

Series completed.

A bit of a mashup, set in an alternate universe, where a modern woman finds herself stuck in a medieval world. She needs the protection of a powerful man (guess who?) to stay safe in this world as there is danger in many places for an unaccompanied woman. The people of the medieval world (with touches of the Renaissance) are also aware of the modern world through the visions of their sorceress. Magic is accepted as being equal to religion. All MCU characters except for two will have different identities in this story. The two will be revealed during the story. Much of this story will be suitable for 18+ readers only. Minors should not interact with this story. If you follow me and your bio does not indicate you are older than 18 you will be blocked.

Characters: Lord Buchanan (James Buchanan Barnes), OFC (named), King Steven (Steve Rogers), Queen Peg (Peggy Carter), Sir Samuel / Knight Commander (Sam Wilson), Bruce the Giant (Bruce Banner), Lord and Lady Stark (Tony and Pepper Stark), King Thorn and Prince Loke (Thor and Loki), Dr. Jane Foster, Sorceress (Wanda Maximoff), Garrison Commander Rhodes (James Rhodes), Archer Barton (Clint Barton), the Baron (Baron Zemo), the Dreykov sisters (Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova), Prince Arthur David Joaquin de Torres Walker aka Quin Torres (Joaquin Torres as a teenager), Duke John Walker, Lord Fury (Nick Fury), and others in brief cameos. The final character of note is not an MCU character but a horse, Magnus, the black stallion ridden by Lord Buchanan; Magnus is a central character in several plot lines.

Warnings: sexual content, violent content, misogyny, talk of slavery, talk of child abuse, talk of sexual abuse, talk of incest, forced arranged marriages, death. There is also love, valour, honour, truth, and attention to duty so it balances out quite well.

Previously published on Wattpad and AO3 platforms, under the username SJSmith56.

Novels/Collections Masterlist Tumblr Masterlist

Read past the break for chapter titles.

Chapter 1. A New World

Chapter 2. To the Castle

Chapter 3. The Feast

Chapter 4. The Duel

Chapter 5. Declarations

Chapter 6. A Time for War

Chapter 7. Time to Live

Chapter 8. The White Wolf

Chapter 9. Two Brothers, Two Kingdoms

Chapter 10. Decisions

Chapter 11. Magic Moment

Chapter 12. Coronation

Chapter 13. Tactics

Chapter 14. Friends in Need

Chapter 15. Setting Things Right

Chapter 16. The Way Home

Chapter 17. Heavens Above

Chapter 18. At Home in the Rocky Woodlands

Chapter 19. Hope and Friendship

Chapter 20. Meeting of the Minds

Chapter 21. Solidarity

Chapter 22. Two Steps Forward

Chapter 23. Three Steps Back

Chapter 24. The Sweet and the Bitter

Chapter 25. Radio Silence

Chapter 26. Across the Waters

Chapter 27. A Single Step

Chapter 28. Home

Chapter 29. The Danger

Chapter 30. Celebrations

Chapter 31. Revelations

Chapter 32. Destiny Calls

Chapter 33. A Matter of Honour

Chapter 34. Time for Love

Chapter 35. A Call to War

Chapter 36. The Gathering

Chapter 37. Time to Fight

Chapter 38. The Last Time

Chapter 39. A Shot in the Dark

Chapter 40. Reap What You Sow

Chapter 41. Coming Home

Chapter 42. A Time for Everything

Chapter 43. Epilogue

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #james buchanan barnes #James Buchanan Barnes fanfiction #James Buchanan Barnes au #bucky barnes au #medieval world #buckybarneslongfic #Bucky Barnes long fiction

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dizzycloudzzz · 17 days

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me and my boy were discussing our favorite Luz's outfit/design and why we like them, and we made rankings with the top 3 🌷

I decided to share it here and if you guys want tell me which one is your favorite too :D

mine!!!!!

Luz with Azura cosplay without the wig in the first place 'cause I love the detail that she has a fanny pack, I like the color palette and the witch style, boots are the BEST, the star on chest that gives me good memories of Steven Universe, she looks SO cool and AAAAAAAAA

epilogue's Luz is second 'cause she is very stylish and maintains the essence of the good old Luz, more mature and full of references in her clothes, THE COLAAAAAR and the boots are also very pretty

poor sick Luz is cute, memorable, wins me over with her simplicity and at the same time details, messy hair and socks on her hands and mushrooms on her hair, I love her sm

he said that in first place was the classical Luz, precisely 'cause she's classic

in second place was the emo Luz, 'cause he said "she gives off a vibe that she would throw gasoline on Belos and set him on fire 'cause the jacket didn't warm her up enough, she needs the heat of justice", I don't understand what's going on in his mind

and thirdly he placed what he called "mafia Luz" (just Luz in her second Grom suit, in canon we don't have the full look so he took a fanart), because she is the boss and rules all the other Luzs in the Luzverse

oh and we both agreed that this Luz would beat all the others effortlessly 👇

#toh #the owl house #luz noceda #SUPER EPIC OUTFITS BATTLE #today I realized HOW MANY different clothes Luz wore throughout the series #and the variations of these same clothes #adding a cape or a fanny pack #ranking 😼

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ethanreedbooks · 6 days

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Chris Hemsworth in Talks for Paramount’s Transformers/G.I. Joe Crossover Movie

youtube

Chris Hemsworth is in negotiations to star in Paramount Pictures' upcoming Transformers/G.I. Joe crossover movie, based on the iconic Hasbro toy lines, Deadline has learned.

If finalized, this deal would mark another collaboration between Hemsworth and Paramount, as he is already starring in Paramount Animation/Hasbro’s Transformers One, set to release on September 20, 2024. This film has already received high praise in test screenings, making it one of Paramount Animation's most anticipated titles.

The crossover between the Transformers and G.I. Joe universes was hinted at in the epilogue of Steven Caple Jr.'s Transformers: Rise of the Beasts last summer. This sequel successfully revived the Transformers franchise, earning $439 million globally, surpassing the worldwide gross of Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, which made $384 million. Notably, G.I. Joe and Transformers have a history of intermingling in the 1980s Marvel comic books.

Paramount is determined to leverage its valuable intellectual properties for the big screen, evident from their CinemaCon presentation. Despite ongoing merger talks, whether with Skydance or Sony/Apollo, the studio is focused on capitalizing on its successful franchises. Combined, the Transformers and G.I. Joe movies have grossed a total of $6 billion worldwide.

The new crossover project is being produced by Lorenzo di Bonaventura, Mark Vahradian, Michael Bay, Tom DeSanto, and Don Murphy. Steven Spielberg and Hasbro Entertainment are executive producers.

Chris Hemsworth is represented by CAA and Greenberg Glusker. The Australian actor became a household name in the U.S. through his role as Thor in Marvel Studios' movies, including Avengers: Endgame, the second highest-grossing film of all time with $2.8 billion. Hemsworth collaborated again with the Russo Brothers for Netflix's original film Extraction, which became the streaming service's most-watched original movie, drawing in 99 million viewers within the first four weeks. He reprised his role as mercenary Tyler Rake in Extraction 2, produced by his multiplatform production company Wild State.

Hemsworth also worked with Darren Aronofsky on the Disney+ Original series Limitless With Chris Hemsworth from National Geographic. The six-episode series was part of his first-look deal with Wild State, and the second season has recently wrapped production.

Currently, Hemsworth stars as Dementus in George Miller’s Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, which has received a 90% certified fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes from both critics and audiences. Deadline’s Chief Film Critic Pete Hammond called it Hemsworth's best performance, praising his portrayal of Dementus as one of the great villains—complex, charismatic, and endlessly watchable.

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pleasurebuttonwrites · 1 year

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Hung the Moon (Epilogue)

Chapter 9 | Masterlist

Pairings: Steven Grant x f!Reader, Marc Spector x f!Reader, Jake Lockley x f!Reader

Summary: A day in your life nearly a year after you said goodbye to the boys in New York.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content: smut, breeding kink, light bondage, oral sex (m + f receiving), deep throating, unprotected p in v sex

Word count: 4K

A/N: I can’t believe I’m at the end of this story! I want to say thank you to everyone who has followed along and commented, reblogged and liked these chapters. Each and every one of your comments brightens my day and helped me to continue to write this series. And if you’re finding this in the future, welcome! I’d love to hear what you think!

On a personal note, I have been writing for many, many years, but I typically have a lot of trouble finishing a story. This has been quite a journey for me, and I’m proud to have gotten to the end with this one!

Translations are inline and contained with in < >.

~~~

~ About 11 months later ~

You’re lying in bed on a cozy Friday morning. Light from the window at your feet shines through a gap in the curtains. If you lifted your head you’d be able to see the trees in the park across the street. But you don’t have to get up just yet. You stretch out your arms and then curl back under the covers.

You have a long day of studying ahead of you. You’d managed to get a late acceptance to a decent university, and the first two weeks have kicked your ass. Not only was the workload more than you imagined, but there was so much you didn’t understand and had to get caught up on.

Next to you, Steven moans softly and rolls over, tumbling into you. He wraps an arm around you and presses his chest to your back. The steady rise and fall of his breathing tells you he’s not yet fully awake. You shift a bit, moving into his warmth, your body now flush against him. In the process, your ass brushes his morning wood, which settles right between your cheeks.

His hold on you tightens and he moans again, but this one is less a sleepy protest and more an awakened desire. You push back and grind into him, and he responds by rolling his hips and slipping his hand up your shirt to play with your nipple.

“You sure you want to start something so early, love?” he asks of you and nips your earlobe.

“Mmm. Absolutely.”

You pull down your sleeping pants, kicking them off down into the blankets, as Steven pulls his down enough to free his aching cock.

He lifts your leg and wedges his thigh in between. He slides his fingers over you to check if you’re ready for him and you definitely are. “Fuck, babe, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were ovulating.”

Almost as soon as you’d moved in together nearly two months ago, a flip had switched and Steven had become really domestic. He not-so-subtly wanted to start a family. He’d agreed that for the time being you should focus on school and figure out your future before bringing kids into it, but that didn’t stop him from fantasizing about knocking you up.

You wouldn’t have guessed that you’d like it, but when he said shit like that to you, especially with that needy edge in his voice, you wanted to give him whatever he wanted.

He works his way into you slowly, shifting his hips to get the angle just right. His hand hooked under your thigh keeping you open for him, his hot breath settling sticky on your neck, his kisses like praise as he sinks into you.

His thrusts are short — he likes to stay buried in you, the head of his cock relentless on that spot deep inside — but his pace is brutal. He clutches tightly to you as he humps your brains out.

In between soft grunts, he whispers, “Want to fuck a baby in you…take my come so deep…make you a mum…”

You reach your hand back to grip his ass and feel those muscles working to fuck his thick cock into you. You try to pull him in deeper and you feel the tip kiss your cervix. If you were really trying to get pregnant this would be the perfect position.

Steven slides his hand down to rub your clit and the extra sensation has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love. Want to feel you come.”

Your cunt clenches around him as your orgasm rushes through you. His rhythm falters and his hips snap, driving him deep into your core as he paints your walls.

Still catching his breath, he says, “Well that’s a brilliant way to start the day, innit?”

You don’t want to move but unfortunately you can’t stay there all day. You release the generous muscle of his ass and snake your hand to the back of his head, turning to plant a kiss on his parted lips. You gasp as his cock slips out of you, and he swallows it down with a kiss of his own.

After you clean up you both start in on your morning routine, already a smooth choreography of sharing a bathroom and closet.

“What are your plans for the day?” he asks from the sink as you pull a shirt off a hanger.

You groan thinking about it. “Studying.” You say it like it’s a bad word.

He emerges from the bathroom. “None of that negative self talk today, alright? Learning is supposed to be fun, not stressful.” He kisses your cheek. “Do you want upstairs or downstairs today?”

There’s a rule at your house: you and Steven have to study in separate rooms. Because once he puts those glasses on, you suddenly find yourself climbing into his lap and steaming them up.

“I’ll take upstairs.”

“Alright. I’ll just be doing some light reading.” He grabs a huge stack of books and heads downstairs. “Give me a shout if I can fetch you some tea or snacks.”

—

You had been back in London for about two months. Initially, you, your sister, and the boys lived in their flat together, but it had gotten cramped fast, and a month ago you and the boys had moved into a townhouse a little removed from the center of London, leaving the flat to Cassie. Steven could no longer hop the bus to school, but as Jake didn’t mind driving you and Steven, it all worked out.

You’d been surprised when Cassie had decided to come with you to London. After a rough start in Spain — she’d let her displeasure at having to move be known loudly and often — she had really taken to the change. She’d loved the nightlife, especially all of the attractive people her own age. Plus, the substantial amount of cash the boys had given you helped win her over. Despite never picking up the language, she seemed to really thrive there, and when the boys had called to say it was done, they were finally free, you had worried that you’d have to leave her. Because, by some miracle, you two had actually bonded in a way you’d never managed before. It had started, you were pretty sure, when you were finally honest with her. Suddenly her life made a lot more sense to her, and you were no longer the person who ruined her life. She could finally see you as the person who wanted the best for her.

And she had been there for you, for your time in Spain had been markedly different than hers. Other than one visit 100 days — yes you counted — after leaving them in New York, you didn’t get to see your boyfriends until they were moving you to London. They called you as much as they could, at times you spoke every day, but sometimes, without warning, they’d go silent for a week or more. It was terrifying each time, and the feeling of complete helplessness was torture, not knowing if they were still alive.

They also hadn’t been very forthcoming in what they were doing. You didn’t think they kept you in the dark on purpose, rather they clearly didn’t like to talk about it. You still didn’t know the details, only that they were now free of Khonshu and that Foswell’s organization was gone and there was no one left to come after you or your sister. You weren’t sure if they would ever tell you, and you were mostly okay with that as you didn’t exactly want to know, but you just wanted to know how they were dealing with it.

You got the feeling they mostly wanted to leave it behind them. From the moment you’d reunited, their arms around you once again, they’d been all in on starting a life with you. The townhouse had been the first step, a new beginning for all of you. Gus 1 and Gus 2 — whom Steven contends are actually Gus 2 and Gus 3 — came with you, of course, and Jake adopted a stray cat that wandered around the neighborhood and he was currently in the process of turning him into a house cat. He named the cat Gustavo, which caused Cassie to opine — in front of the boys — that she wished they all had the same name like their pets. It was (mostly) a joke as she had learned all of their names, and had even chosen a favorite alter: Steven, though she claimed she couldn’t understand a word he said — whether that was due to the accent or his tendency to ramble about ancient Egypt, you weren’t sure. In any case, your sister liked to drop by, always unannounced, and the boys enjoyed/tolerated her visits on a sliding scale.

Despite Cassie’s repeated offers to re-decorate the house for you, you loved the townhouse — it felt like home to you in a way that no other place had, safe and full of love. It wasn’t large, but it was roomy enough. You’d converted one of the upstairs bedrooms into a study. Books lined the shelves on either side of the cozy fireplace, in front of which was a low-backed couch. Behind that, pushed up against the window was Steven’s desk.

All morning you’d been studying at that desk, failing miserably at taking Steven’s advice. He’d come to check on you about every hour bringing you a treat or topping off your water bottle, the plates piled up in the corner of the desk evidence of that.

Sometime after lunch you hear the footsteps, the ever-so-slightly heavier footfall and even pacing. Just by that you can tell Steven is done reading for the day and Marc is seeking you out. He finds you with your nose in a book. He doesn’t disturb you, instead taking a seat in the armchair in the corner. He picks up his guitar on the stand next to it and strums for a bit, alternating between chords and plucking a melody.

It’s mildly distracting, but only because you’re so tempted to turn and watch him. He’s so ridiculously beautiful when he’s playing guitar. But on the other hand, the sound is soothing and you feel your shoulders relax a bit and a little calm settling over you, melting the stress away.

You get to the end of your reading, noticing that the notes you took are practically just an entire copy of the text, and you snap the book closed. As soon as you do, the music abruptly cuts off and you hear the hollow thunk of the guitar being returned to its stand.

Marc comes up behind you and leans down to kiss your neck. “How’s the studying going, baby?”

You’re still kind of amazed by you how far you’ve come with Marc. When the boys visited you in Spain, Marc had only fronted on the last day. You’d been having such a wonderful time with Jake and Steven, and had given up on getting to see Marc. But he appeared while you were preparing some dinner in the kitchen. From the doorway he asked if you wanted some help. You worked together mostly silently, but the air between you was buzzing. You had a pleasant dinner afterward, and he seemed to open up to you. That night you went to bed together, finally giving in to your feelings for each other. You’d never forget the drag of his lips over your skin or the sweet way he’d moaned your name.

“Oh, despite the fact that I’m not smart enough for this, it’s going great!”

He chuckles against your skin. “I know you’re just letting off steam, but Steven wants you to quit talking like that.”

You press your cheek to his and sigh. “I just feel so behind already. I have no idea how I’m going to catch up.”

“It’s bound to be hard at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. Do you like what you’re studying?”

You don’t answer right away. “I guess so? I really fucking hope so, but it’s just so hard and stressful I can’t really tell.”

In his sexy voice he says, “I think you just need to take your mind off it for a bit.”

His lips are on yours and as soon as his tongue touches yours all thoughts of school disappear. You sigh into his mouth, then remember your appointment this afternoon.

“Wait, what time is it?”

“We’ve got time,” he assures you.

You stand from your chair and wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair. You never get to touch him for very long so you have to take advantage of it when he lets you.

Sure enough, after he pulls your shirt and bra off, he says, “Wrists.”

You hold your wrists together and out toward him. He pulls a silk tie from his pocket and ties them together. “What’s the safe word?” he quizzes you.

You tell him and he nods, satisfied.

More often than not sex with Marc includes bondage. He has to be in control and doesn’t like to be touched. It was only last week that you got to reverse roles — something you were surprised by when he asked you for it. You had the feeling that he was craving punishment, but instead you had tied him up and treated him right, gently exploring his body. Though you were intimately aware of him physically thanks to your exploits with Steven and Jake, you hadn’t yet gotten to know what Marc liked. You’d taken your time with him, and taken his cock down your throat — a skill you’d been working on with Jake. The way he reacted to you, though, had you feeling he might’ve preferred the punishment to your kindness.

He strips off the rest of your clothes and you stand in front of him completely naked whereas he is still fully clothed. He has a wicked smile on his face as he guides you over to the couch. Your legs are already shaking as he bends you over, your ass up in the air.

When you and Marc had gone furniture shopping, you had found it weird that Marc would always check out the back of the couch instead of the front. With your hand in his, he’d pull you behind the couch with him. As soon as he’d come across this one, he immediately wanted to buy it. It wasn’t until the first time he’d bent you over it that you realized he had been searching for one that was the perfect height.

You’re not sure what he has planned but your lips are already swollen and slick, ready for anything. You crane your neck to try and see what he’s up to. You watch him disappear as he gets on his knees behind you. He caresses your legs with both hands then adjusts your stance, spreading your legs wider.

You whimper as you feel his breath on the upper most part of your thigh. His face presses into you and his tongue slides over your sensitive nub. You grip the cushion of the couch, wishing so bad you could reach back and tug on his hair. All you can do is squirm, and you can’t even do much of that with the way he holds your hips steady.

You hear the clock downstairs chime twice. It’s two o’clock and you both have to leave around three. One would think that was enough time, but Marc can easily edge you for an hour.

And that’s just what he does. No matter how you try to hide it from him, he always knows when you’re close. He brings you right up to the edge and backs away. Over and over. You try to lift your leg and slide it over his hip, just for some contact. But he catches your ankle and holds you in place.

You’re not sure how many times you say the word ‘please’ or moan his name.

The clock chimes three times. “Shit, Marc. We have to go.”

He doesn’t respond. Only tosses your thighs over his shoulder and buries his face in your cunt, finally allowing you the release you’ve been denied.

You go limp, your head blurry with bliss, nearly drifting off to sleep. Until you feel the head of his cock at your soaked and oversensitive entrance. He pushes in gently and even though the sensation is overwhelming, it feels amazing to finally be filled. His pace is quick, and he’s muttering to himself about how good you feel. He’s quick to his orgasm, and he only touches your swollen clit when he’s moments from cumming. You clench around him and have another, albeit weaker, orgasm.

He pulls out slowly. Your thighs are soaked and you feel his cum leak out of you too. He reaches over you to untie your wrists, giving them each a kiss when they’re free. “Let me get a washcloth. Be right back.”

You both clean up quickly, Marc washing his face of your juices and his sweat. You tie up your hair and notice an indentation line across your face from pressing it into the couch. You show him and he chuckles before flashing you a guilty look. “This better be gone before we arrive,” you say playfully.

—

You and Marc started therapy six weeks ago. You have different therapists, but you booked your sessions for the same time and within the same practice so that you could go together. You could tell it was already helping even if it was only in the most minor of ways.

After your sessions, you walk around the city with Marc, both of you in quiet contemplation. Eventually, you come out of your heads and you talk and laugh and get ice cream on this unseasonably warm day.

When you get home, you cook dinner together. Marc is admittedly a better cook than you and could probably prepare the meal much faster on his own, but you can’t resist being in the kitchen with him. He never walks by you without touching a part of you. A hand on the small of your back, a pinch to your waist, a pat on your ass.

It’s after you and Marc clear your plates that Jake shows up. You’re washing up at the sink and he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “No puedo esperar a mañana, cariño,” he murmurs in your ear. <Can’t wait for tomorrow, sweetheart.>

You have special plans to spend the whole day together, just the two of you. In the evening, you have dinner reservations and you’ll be revealing a new dress you bought just for the occasion. Later, you’ll reveal a little something else you bought underneath.

Jake pops on a movie in the living room and you cuddle up next to him on the couch. It’s a new release that you’ve both been interested in watching. But no matter how good it is, you always get distracted by the man next to you. His arm around you, his thumb tracing arcs where his hand rests on your back. His broad chest beneath your head. The smell of him so rich and sweet.

You start with your hand on his knee, gently squeezing to activate that sensitive part of his inner knee. You’re not sure when he catches on to what you’re doing — knowing him it was right about the moment you thought to do it. But as you caress your hand up his inner thigh he spreads his legs a little wider giving you more access to him.

He’s wearing sweatpants without underwear — a Marc specialty that Jake has really embraced. So when you touch him, cupping his balls and gripping his cock, there’s only one layer of fabric in between and you can really feel him.

With his arm still wrapped around you, fingertips gripping your jaw, he tilts your head up to him. He takes a moment to look at you, his eyelids heavy with desire. Then he captures your lips in an all-consuming kiss, his tongue sliding over yours. You continue to stroke his cock, feeling it harden beneath your grip as you make out.

You pull away and tug down his pants until his cock springs free. Mouth watering, you get on your knees in front of him and take the head into your mouth, letting your spit drip down his shaft. You stretch your lips wide to fit around his girth as you take more of him. When the tip hits the back of your throat, he inhales sharply then groans as you focus on relaxing, taking a breath before pushing deeper.

“¡Joder!” <Fuck!> Jake continues to curse as you bob your head, taking him deeper until your nose touches his pelvis.

You only manage to take him all the way down a few times before he pulls you off him, stopping himself from cumming. Unexpectedly, he stands up and says, “I’ll be right back.”

“Jake!” You call to his back as he heads up the stairs.

“Be right back!”

You sit back on your heels and rest your arm on the seat of the couch, wondering two things: what the fuck he’s doing, and what the fuck is happening in this movie.

He returns, one hand behind his back. “Just had to get…this.” He reveals your vibrator with a flourish, purring from the back of his throat as he does so. You roll your eyes. It turns out that out of the three of them, Jake is the goofiest.

He tugs his shirt off in a flash and shucks off his pants. You look up at him from your place on the floor, casting an appreciative eye over his naked form. When you reach his face there’s a cocky smirk waiting for you. “I didn’t go get this for me. Want to take off your clothes now?”

You strip off your shirt and whip it at him for being a smartass, earning you a wide grin. You make quick work of undressing, but when he wraps his fist around his cock you nearly trip trying to step out of your pants.

He’s on you the moment you straighten up, pressed against you, his erection sandwiched in between your bodies, lips on your neck, hand gripping your hair then trailing down your back and finally grabbing a handful of your ass so he can pull you down on the couch on top of him.

You ride him slow at first and he’s content to lay back and enjoy the show. But as soon as he turns on your vibrator and places it on your clit — positioning it so he gets a little vibe, too — he’s thrusting up into you and neither of you lasts much longer. He manages to catch the look of you as the pleasure crashes over you, then he follows with a series of grunts, dropping the vibrator, still buzzing, on his stomach to grip your hips with both hands.

His eyes are still closed as he says, words ever-so-slightly slurred, “With how often we cum inside you, you’re bound to get pregnant even with birth control.”

Your laughter is soft at first, but as the ridiculousness of his pussy-drunk brain hits you, you laugh harder. He joins in, both of you laughing at him and perhaps simply at the euphoria of the moment.

A yawn takes over as your laughter subsides and you begin to speak through the end of it. “Can we go to bed? I’m fucking tired.”

You’re not so tired that you can’t walk up the stairs on your own but Jake insists on carrying you.

In bed, he holds you tightly against his chest. There’s a glow from the bedside clock and you both watch it tick over to midnight. “Happy anniversary, mi amor.”

~~~

A/N: I hope you liked the ending. While I have no plans to continue this series, I have thought of some possible bonus chapters. I’m not sure whether I’ll write those or not, but please let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

Tags: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ajeff855 @bnamta @unspokenmoon @milkymoon2483 @valkyrieace @theimpalasdoctorin221b @hopefulfangirl24 @bucksgoat @rmoonstoner @foreverinwanderlust @am-3-thyst @bullet-prooflove @trashboat-the-raccoon @daisies-yellow @kingtwhiddleston @stevenknightmarc @lilredbird101

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suau-raised-by-corrupted-gems · 2 years

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My Lil Star: epilogue

You think the gems would have completely forgotten their leader's offspring that easily?

This entire comic kind of takes after this event.

and ever since the pearl had caught glimpse of his navel gem, she's been sort of obsessed with finding her fallen crush's leader's son.

but I'd think Garnet would be merciful enough to give him just a bit more time with his "foster mother" before giving him the truth.

First page is here.

#steven universe au #classic steven #corrupt gem #corrupted steven #steven universe #corrupted au #feral child #alternate universe #my comic #epilogue

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wishing-stones · 8 months

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So, uh... how would the R&R boys react to finding out that MC is actually only half-human? I thought about this while reading bc I was on my Steven Universe brainrot at the time and thought about my mc being half-Gem. I wonder how would the story go and how the boys would take the information.

(They wouldn't have many sick and op abilities, just like... more endurance and a better healing factor, as well as Steven has. Boi literally never went to the hospital his whole life until the epilogue of the series)

You are a Mage by definition! A gem could easily be categorized as a subrace of monsters.

The guys would be surprised, but pleasantly so.

Killer is eager to see what you can do and encourages training sessions to find out and work on what all you can do. Honestly, he's like a kid at christmas Dust thinks it's kind of a fascinating manifestation of magic, and would like to help in a more subtle way than Killer. Working with you on easier little cantrips and stuff. Axe is just pleased that you're a mage in general. All of your abilities are awesome, but your durability is what makes him the happiest. It means he has less to worry about if you're in the field together. Cross, similar to Killer, insists on helping hone your abilities and figuring out what all you can and can't do. Durability and healing are fantastic boons that he'll push your limits on for sure. Baggs might need a little bit of care to be around. He's not dangerous by any means-- he won't hurt you-- but it's f a s c I n a t i n g to have a mage around that he can work with closely and study. He hasn't had the chance until now, really... And it's an opportunity he won't squander. He might... get a little invasive or pushy, but he's mostly harmless. Nightmare also insists on finding out the limits of what you can do. Mages are a rare asset, and your primary attributes make you a particularly valuable one to him. He's also the one who puts arguably the most effort into researching the specific background of your mage status-- the nature of your monster (read: gem) parent, what might come with that, he's delving wayyy into your background.

#k answers #k headcanons #feat. r&r crew #SU was never something I got into but I have Contact Knowledge

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

Text

Scared to be Lonely

Part Two Part Three Epilogue

Summary: After S.W.O.R.D. helps with the clean-up in the Cairo aftermath, they ask Marc to return the favor: guard a variant Loki’s estranged wife while Thor and S.W.O.R.D. try to track down the evasive Godbutcher. Yet leave it to a “catty space princess” to throw the Moon Knight for a loop.

Pairing: Marc x Fem!OC, eventual Steven x Fem!OC and Jakex Fem!OC, past Loki x Fem!OC, past Marc x Layla

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 7.3k (hahahaha wut?!)

TW/CW: Leave it to Oscar Isaac to end my decade (?) long hiatus from writing fic...it’s so long and filthy I had to split it up into parts instead of posting in one go like I’d planned. But for this bit - talk of divorce, mention of forced marriage, angst, oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, barebacking (wrap it before you tap it IRL folx), p in v sex, and a smidge of creampie & cum-eating

“This is beneath me,” Khonshu declared yet again, materializing on the bus seat across from Marc, “Since when does a venerated member of the Ennead, and therefore by extension his avatar, serve as a paladin for Loki’s brat bride?”

Marc pulled out his phone. Pretended to make a call. Held the phone to his ear and then spoke. “Since if it wasn’t for S.W.O.R.D. last month the clean-up in Cairo would’ve been more of a mess than it was.”

Khonshu bristled. “I don’t trust them.”

“We agree there. But all things considered, as far as S.W.O.R.D. calling in the favor I owe them, there could be worse asks. Besides, if there’s really a deranged godkiller out there, we need intel.”

“Resorting to lowly bureaucrats instead of finding the adversary yourself. No wonder she left yo--”

“Ok talk to you soon!” Marc pretended to hang up and pushed Khonshu to the back of his mind.

Any mention of Layla was a conversation-ender. Khonshu was severely mistaken if he thought Marc was any more excited about guarding Loki’s ex-wife from another universe than he was, but if Marc was being honest, he could use a distraction. The two weeks since he’d signed the papers had been…rough.

A calm, robotic female voice came over the bus’s loudspeaker and announced his stop. He stepped off the bus into an impossibly posh area of London. Funny how different areas of the city could be so starkly different they felt like separate worlds.

The S.W.O.R.D. operative was waiting for Marc outside of Claridge’s as said he would be.

“Agent Woo,” Marc greeted him.

“Mister..?” Woo struggled with how to return the greeting, trying to determine who he was speaking to.

Marc watched him squirm for a moment or two, then put him out of his discomfort, “Spector. The other one has a British accent so thick it borders on hokey.”

Sod off, Steven chimed from one of the polished window panes of the luxury hotel’s entryway.

At least he counted you, Jake added. Marc was still grappling with the existence of another alter, and it was none of S.W.O.R.D’s business.

“Oh, okay, thanks. Shall we?” Woo gestured to the door, eager to put his gaffe behind them.

The two men made their way across the grand, bustling lobby. Marc had never been to the hotel, but it was more or less what he expected. Chandelier, black and white marble tiles, a sweeping staircase.

“What am I walking into here?” Marc asked. When googling his charge, Sigyn, he hadn’t found much. He’d even consulted a few of Steven’s mythology books but they contained little more information about the Norse goddess. All Marc was working off of was, until recently, that she was the long-suffering wife of Loki, god of mischief and chaos, and that Sigyn was given the title of goddess of fidelity for her trouble.

Woo called the elevator. “You read the brief?”

“Of course I read the brief,” Marc fired back. It had been frustratingly vague to his chagrin, but not to his surprise. Sigyn was a “variant”, a person who had come from another universe into theirs. In her dimension, she’d been married to Loki for centuries on Asgard and part of the ruling royal family. S.W.O.R.D. suspected that her universe’s Loki had gone rogue, conspiring with the entity who had been destroying gods across the multiverse.

“She’s lovely,” Woo said as they got on the elevator.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

Woo deflated. “Her highness comes off as arrogant, imperious. Our psychiatrist says it’s because she’s still feeling vulnerable after her husband left her. We need her for intel obviously, but our team has lead on Gorr–”

“The godkiller” Marc interjected.

“Yes. Thor doesn’t want her to come. Our leadership agrees, it’s too risky. We can’t lose our two closest connections to Loki and Asgardian assets should the mission go south.”

“So you called me to babysit rather than actually help you.”

“You are helping,” Woo insisted. “And your status as a consultant with us is delicate, Mr. Spector. S.W.O.R.D. is protecting you and your alter from several international authorities. Fail to keep the princess safe and perhaps we’ll reconsider.”

“Does she have the same affinity for lightning as her brother-in-law?”

The elevator reached the top floor.

“No, but like other Asgardians, she has increased strength and invulnerability, heightened senses and stamina, in addition to the Allspeak. She’s a practitioner of magic, but her skills are nowhere near Loki’s. She also tells us she can hold her own in a fight.”

“Hand-to-hand combat or with a weapon?”

“Doesn’t matter. Under no circumstances is she to leave the premises of the hotel. We’d prefer if you two stayed in the suite at all times.”

“Worse cages to be kept in,” Marc commented as they walked down the plush-carpeted hallway to what he guessed was a penthouse.

“Tell that to her,” Woo muttered under his breath.

The pair reached the door to the Asgardians’ suite. Two armed guards were posted outside. Marc stopped Woo before the agent could give the nod for entry to his colleagues.

“Do I really have to call her your highness?”

“If she likes you she’ll let you call her Sigyn, she picked that up from Thor.”

“So you call her Sigyn.”

Woo snorted. “Ha! No.”

With that, Woo motioned to the operatives and they opened the door. Six more guards and agents were inside from what he could see, and Marc could barely take in the elegance of the spacious and cream-colored suite before Thor stormed into its living area. He was in full battle guard: helmet, cape, and the massive axe that Marc always assumed was over-compensation for other “shortcomings”.

Hot on his heels was a woman adorned in a large gold helm of her own. Where Thor’s was winged on the sides, hers has two large semi-circles and a dazzling emerald inlaid in the center right above her brow. Though her respective cape was green - her husband’s color Steven clocked - she wore a glittering gold gown. Sigyn.

The more Marc observed her, everything about Sigyn seemed gem-like. Long, honey-colored tresses tumbled down her back, and her skin was fair but sun-kissed. A pair of sapphire-like blue eyes competed for brilliance with the emerald on her helmet. Her cheekbones were high, her lashes were long, her lips were full, and her build athletic.

Loki left her? What an idiot, Jake marveled. I’d chain her to my bed and live inside of her–

Marc blocked him out before Jake could finish the thought.

Though you’ve got to admit, she certainly looks like a goddess, doesn’t she?

He turned away from Steven’s image in the mirrored cabinet behind the dining table across the room. Marc was a professional. Unlike his alters, he could handle being in the same room as a beautiful woman. He pulled himself out of his head, focusing on the argument unfolding in front of him.

“No one knows Loki like I do,” Sigyn asserted.

Thor wasn’t convinced. “I’m his brother.”

“Adopted brother. I’m his wife,” she countered.

“Estranged wife,” Thor shot back just as quickly. He scrubbed a massive hand over his face. It was clear they’d had this dispute before. “I need you to stay here, Sigyn. You’ll get your crack at him, I swear it, but not yet.

Thor spotted them before the princess could get another word in. “Oh brilliant! Your knight is here!”

The Asgardian crossed to them quickly, his hurried gait betraying his desperation to change the subject. Sigyn glared at the trio of men with disdain. She may have only married into royalty, but it appeared to Marc that Sigyn definitely had her imperial sneer down.

“Cut the cow dung, brother. You mean my nanny.” She narrowed her gaze onto Marc. Everyone else in the room followed suit.

Sigyn’s stare was withering. Was he supposed to bow? “Don’t you dare”, Khonshu protested.

Marc offered his hand instead. “Marc Spector…your highness.”

Sigyn didn’t take his hand. The princess’s face gave away nothing. Instead, she looked at Thor expectantly.

“Lord Spector, allow me to introduce you to her royal highness Princess Sigyn of Asgard.”

“Thanks but um, I’m not a lord.”

Thor was thrown. “You’re a knight, aren’t you?”

“I’m the avatar of the Egyptian god, Khonshu. Moon Knight is a title but I don’t have subjects or anything.”

Sigyn groaned. “Norns”. She swept out of the living area into what must have been a bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind her.

Thor broke the subsequent awkward silence.

“So now you’ve met my sister,” he sent the other men a conciliatory smile. “Technically, we’re not siblings, or really in-laws even, but she’s fast become the younger sister I never had, you know?”

“Sure,” Marc offered.

“I’m an only child,” Agent Woo blurted.

“Anyway, Marc, I was hoping to see Khonshu! It’s been a literal eternity since I’ve seen that crazy old bird!” Thor scanned the room.“Is he here?”

Marc glimpsed Khonshu in his periphery shaking his head. “Not now, no,” he lied. “The Ennead relocated to the Overvoid, so it’s complicated to–”

“We need to go,” a female voice tinged with an eastern European accent interrupted him. A smaller blonde woman entered in tactical gear. “Is the Princess Bride taken care of?”

“Yes!” Thor exclaimed. “Marc Spector, Yelena Belova.”

Yelena shook Marc’s hand. “You’re Sigyn’s personal detail?” he nodded. “You poor son of a bitch.”

“I’ve been a mercenary for over a decade, I think I can handle a catty space princess.”

“Exactly! You’re the best there is,” Thor pulled Marc close to him. The Asgardian lowered his tone, “She’s been through a lot as of late. First her husband leaves her and then she’s transported to a different realm, in an entirely different universe where they were never wed, not to mention he’s dead here too.”

“I get it. Sort of. I got divorced recently.” Marc had no idea why he said it. Did he drink and fight about the split from Layla? Yes. But talk about it? Never.

“Great!” The god of thunder caught himself. “It’s not great, I’m sorry, though perhaps you wanted to get divorced? Who am I kidding? Breakups are always hard. Well, they are for me, you seem like the stoic type. But it is great you two have something in common.”

The suite had nearly emptied. Before Thor followed suit, he went to Sigyn’s closed door and knocked. No answer.

“Seeg? We’re leaving.” Still no response. Thor tried another tactic. “They may come here, you know. That’s why we need you and Marc to stay behind.”

Sigyn’s reply came in the form of a pillow being hurled at Thor’s face that sailed through a gold hole in the top half of the door that disappeared as swiftly as it materialized.

Bloody hell, Steven marveled at the casual use of magic.

Thor remained undeterred, shouting “I love you, sister!” before he took his leave.

Agent Woo headed for the door too, clapping Marc on the shoulder. “She’s all yours.”

Marc stopped him. “Wait, you’re not staying?”

“I thought you read the brief! It clearly outlined that this is an all-hands-on-deck situation, which is why we called you. Plus, I'm pretty sure she despises me. The door guards stay. Charge whatever you need to the room. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Less than a minute later, the room was deserted. Marc approached Sigyn’s door. He tried knocking and calling for her, but she remained non-responsive.

“She didn’t climb out the window, did she?”

“The princess is still here,” Khonshu assured him before adding “unfortunately.”

“Might as well make the best of it.”

Marc wasted no time flopping onto the couch that probably cost more than his last car, ordering room service, and several putting pay-per-view fights on S.W.O.R.D’s tab. If he was lucky, Sigyn would stay holed up in the bedroom until everyone came back.

Those hopes were dashed ninety minutes later when the princess emerged from her bedroom and padded into the living room. No longer in her ceremonial battle armor, Sigyn wore a simple ivory linen dress. Marc turned off the TV reflexively when she entered the room.

Sigyn studied him, her eyes inquisitive and piercing. “You’re the Moon Knight?”

“Just Moon Knight. No ‘the’. Fuck it, just call me Marc.”

“But there’s another man that lives within you.”

“Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Steven.”

Sigyn nodded, digesting the information. Marc was surprised to see there were no traces of wariness or distaste on her face, simply curiosity.

“And you both serve Khonshu?”

“I do more than he does.”

Wouldn’t at all if it were up to me, Steven remarked, his face warped in the silver of the serving cover that the room service had been delivered under.

“I’d like to apologize for my behavior earlier. I made a rather terrible first impression.”

“Don’t mention it. Thor told me what you’re dealing with right now.”

An exasperated sigh escaped past Sigyn’s plump lips, “I wish he hadn’t. He treats me as if I were made of glass, it drives me mad.”

“He cares about you.”

She softened slightly. “It’s all too easy to forget he's not actually the brother I’ve spent the last however many years with. Otherwise he’d know.”

“Know what?”

“That I am not a fragile, helpless princess that needs your protection, Marc.”

He stood, went to her. Marc fought to ignore the intoxicating scent of jasmine that flooded his nostrils when he crowded his space to test her. “Oh yeah? So why haven’t you given me the slip then?

Her sapphire eyes turned hungry. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Sigyn chuckled. She lifted her chin in an attempt to make up for the inch or so Marc had her height-wise. “You remind me of my husband. Ex-husband.”

“Ouch,” he replied with faux hurt.

“You strike me as a man who doesn’t take well to authority,” she explained, “so are you really going to listen to those puny Midgardian peons and keep us confined to this room?”

Marc smirked at her, but he didn’t answer Sigyn. This was a game he could play. And win.

“Perhaps you really are only a knight in name, hmm? Especially if you’re afraid of protecting a superior being who received her combat training from Odin’s elite Crimson Hawks.”

It was Marc’s turn to chuckle. She was goading him, trying to use reverse psychology. He leaned in close, hovered his lips millimeters from her ear. “Nice try.”

Marc stepped back from her and returned to the couch. Clicked the TV back on. Before he could resume the boxing match he’d been watching, Sigyn followed him to the couch.

“Merely my only opening gambit. I’d caution you trying to play mind games with me, Marc. I was married to the god of mischief for a very long time.”

“Sweetie, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“It’s your highness.”

That’s it, give me the body! Jake demanded. I’m going to bend her over and–

Marc did his best to retain control of the body and cover any signs from bleeding onto his face as he stared Sigyn down.

Khonshu didn’t make it any easier, “For once I agree with the ruffian.”

“Marc?”

“Yeah”

“Are you well?”

“Never better,” he pivoted immediately. “Cards on the table, I only agreed to this because I want to know more about the godkiller–”

“Godbutcher.”

“Excuse me?”

“He calls himself the Godbutcher”.

“That’s a hell of a name to give yourself,” Marc mused. “Who has he butchered so far?”

“We don’t know how many. I’ve overheard that some members of the Greek pantheon were victims. Thor refuses to tell me anything more, which means he’s afraid.”

“Where were they going?”

“You believe they’d tell me?”

“No I don’t, but you’re too savvy to wait to be told,” Marc pressed. “You must know something.”

The television remote flew from the table into Sigyn’s hand. She turned off the TV. “Take me to dinner and I’ll tell you all that I know. I hear the restaurant downstairs is fabulous.”

“So you can be closer to an exit and lose me in a crowd? I don’t think so.”

“I genuinely haven’t the faintest idea where they went,” she averred. “If I did, we likely wouldn’t be able to follow them anyhow since you don’t have the tech, nor I the magic to traverse the multiverse.”

“They’re traveling inter-dimensionally?”

“That’s the most I was able to glean.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I have been locked in these rooms for nearly four days and I am going mad,” Sigyn confessed, her eyes locked with Marc’s so he could see the truth in them.

“The restaurant downstairs,” he agreed. Sigyn’s face lit up. “That’s it though.”

“Of course,” she flit back to her room.

“I should have claimed Layla for my next avatar when I had the chance,” Khonshu lamented. Marc turned to face him. “You don’t use the head on your shoulders to negotiate.”

“Keep her out of your craven attempts to control me,” Marc fired back. “I’m containing Sigyn so you can go find where Thor and S.W.O.R.D. went to.”

Khonshu cocked his skull, impressed. “Perhaps you’re not as useless as I thought.”

The god vanished and Marc snuck over to Sigyn’s bedroom, listening through the door. She was on the phone.

“Under Sigyn Odi–-Sigyn Frodisdottir please. No, the private dining room won’t be necessary.”

Marc’s notion of Sigyn trying to lose him among the hotel guests wasn’t unfounded after all it seemed. He was taken aback by how gracious the princess was, however. There wasn’t a trace of the haughtiness in her tone that she’d spoken to Marc or the S.W.O.R.D agents with.

Sigyn continued with who Marc guessed was the concierge, “I was curious if your personal shopper might be available? Wonderful! One minute, I’ll ask him–”

Her footsteps got closer and Marc launched himself through the hallway to resume his position on the couch before the door opened. When Sigyn appeared, Marc was tapping away on his phone, pretending he’d been there the entire time.

She handed him the receiver. “The shopper requires your measurements.”

“I thought we were just going to dinner?”

“Not with you dressed like that.”

Marc rolled his eyes. So much for Sigyn abandoning her royal airs. She retreated to her room once more and left Marc with the phone.

He put the phone to his ear. “Don’t make me look like a douche, alright?”

***

It’s official. You definitely look like a douche, Jake mocked Marc’s reflection as he straightened his tie in the suite’s spare bedroom.

I think we look sharp, Steven offered.

“Fuck it,” Marc took off the tie and tossed it on the bed. He undid the top three buttons of the hideously expensive shirt the Claridge’s personal shopper got him instead. Sigyn would deal.

Marc called for her, “We gotta go! You said seven, right?”

“A moment more!” Came the princess’s muffled reply through the door.

He waited for her in the living room. Caught his reflection again on the TV screen.

“I do look like a douche.”

Sigyn’s door opened before Marc could change back to the clothes he arrived in. Her hair was artfully piled atop her head, exposing the golden skin of Sigyn’s shoulders since the deceptively simple, short black dress she wore didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Don’t clean you up well.” She remarked as she approached him.

It took Marc a moment to acknowledge that she was speaking to him. He was a professional, but this wasn’t an impetuous princess before him. Dressed in earthly clothes, Sigyn was simply a knockout. He liked this version of her better. The golden helmet and cape and shimmering gown were unnecessary adornments to her beauty.

Jake and Steven immediately, simultaneously, demanded control of the body. It felt as if four fists were pounding on his skill from the inside. Marc didn’t blame them, but there was also no way in hell they were going to ruin the delicate connection he’d forged with Sigyn.

Who do you think you’re kidding? Jake scoffed. You want first dibs on fucking her.

Sigyn’s hand cautiously touched his arm, snapping Marc out of his thoughts.

“Marc? Can you hear me?” Her brow was furrowed in concern. The strappy heels she wore gave her the height advantage now.

“Yeah,” he said, “yes. Sorry.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to,” the words left Marc’s lips without permission. _Get it together Spector, _he thought, it’s like you’ve never seen a pair of tits before. He needed to backpedal. “I mean, we had a deal.”

Sigyn grinned. “Shall we then?”

The restaurant was dark and enveloping in its design - aubergine walls, low lighting, velvet seats. A singer and her small band occupied one of the corners; her sultry voice suited the ambiance of the establishment well as she serenaded its patrons.

Marc wasted no time ordering the most expensive champagne on the menu to spite S.W.O.R.D. Once the waiter departed from the table, he got right to it.

“So the godbutcher.”

A nervous laugh escaped Sigyn. She fidgeted, and even in the dim lighting, Marc could tell the princess was blushing. “In Asgard we usually wait for the first course before we discuss the matter at hand, Mister Spector.”

Marc readied a retort until he caught Sigyn's fingers unconsciously drifting to her left ring finger, as if to twirl a wedding band, only to remember a moment too late it was bare.

That’s when it occurred to him. She may be considered a goddess, but Sigyn was clearly a profoundly lonely woman. Not only had she been forsaken by her husband, as morally ambiguous as he was, she was on a strange planet in a completely different universe from hers with men in suits keeping her cooped up in a gilded cage. Why else would she not have escaped from the suite and insisted Marc dress up and take her dinner?

He understood how she felt. All too well. But before Sigyn’s plight could truly tug on his heartstrings, Marc shut it down. He could work with this. Sigyn wanted the boyfriend experience? Marc would give her the boyfriend experience and get what he needed.

Better give me the body, Steven entreated, only his eyes visible on the thin blade of Marc’s butterknife. You’re a bit too gruff to deliver the boyfriend experience, aren't you?

“Shut up,” Marc whispered.

Sigyn had heard. “Beg your pardon?”

“Nothing,” he covered. “And I’m sorry your highness, you’re right, it was inappropriate of me to ask you right away.”

“I shouldn’t expect a Midgardian to observe the customs of a realm to which he’s never been,” she admitted. “Please call me Sigyn.”

Marc smiled a wolfish grin. He was in.

“Nevertheless, I wish to know more about my enigmatic sentry.”

“Not much to know,” Marc deflected. His response was an automatic defense mechanism. Don’t let anyone get close, or let them learn anything they could use against him. Yet he knew he needed to give Sigyn something if he was going to coax anything useful out of her. “From Chicago, that’s in America. Do you know America? It’s um, across the-”

“I’ve heard of America,” she reassured him.

“Served in the military which led me to mercenary work which led me into the service of Khonshu.” There. That was something.

Sigyn giggled as their waiter brought their champagne. “You say it with such simplicity.”

“Yeah well, something tells me you’re a lot more interesting,” Marc countered.

“Is that so?”

“You’re very different with me than you were with your brother and S.W.O.R.D.” he remarked.

“Because you don’t look at me with pity,” Sigyn explained. “In their eyes I’m the silly, stupid woman who married the evil god because she didn’t know any better. Whereas they all saw this coming lightyears away apparently, and regard me as if I didn’t know my husband after centuries of marriage.”

“I get it,” Marc told her, making sure to catch her gaze. “I really do.”

Sigyn didn’t know what or how to ask about Marc’s…condition, so she stayed silent and took a sip of her champagne instead.

Marc followed her line of sight to the band. A few couples had taken to the small dance floor in front of the musicians. Sigyn watched them with equal parts wonder and wistfulness.

“Do you dance on Asgard?”

“Yes but not like this,” Sigyn kept her eyes on the dancers. “Here it looks to be about two people merely being close to each other. On Asgard, it’s much more formal, impersonal even. The first time I met Loki he asked me to dance.”

“Did he?”

“I could hardly believe it.”

“Why?” When Sigyn looked at Marc in confusion, he elaborated, “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Sigyn flushed, a mix of the alcohol and the compliment.

“My entire childhood, my mother’s complete focus was getting Thor to wed my elder sister. Which if I’m honest, I learned not to mind, since it meant I could do what I like, court who I wanted. But the shock on her face when she discovered that a prince had asked little Sigyn to dance instead of her prized Astrid,” her expression darkened, “It’s probably why I stayed with him after the shock at the wedding.’

“What do you mean?”

“The night Loki danced with me I was already betrothed to a friend of my brothers’, a fellow Crimson Hawk. Theoric. We were madly in love and Loki could see that. So he arranged for Theo to be killed in battle and posed as him. Odin married us, and it was only after we had sealed our vows that he revealed who I had actually pledged eternity to.”

“Fuck” was all Marc could muster in response. Sigyn sent him a wan smile.

“Odin was enraged, marriage was binding but no one ought to be wed under false pretenses. So he offered me the goddess of fidelity. And I suppose because of all the resentment I harbored for my mother, I accepted. Yet I grew to love it - both my husband and my role. Odin and Frigga had begun to send me on my own diplomatic envoys before…” she swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing, “before all of this happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sigyn blinked away a tear. “Tremendous. Now you pity me too.”

“I never said that.”

Sigyn took another sip of her champagne. The band began a new song, the bass and strings made for an enticing mix.

“Dance with me,” Marc said.

“Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Sigyn.”

“I don’t wish to anymore.”

Marc stood. Reached out his hand.

“Stand up.“ It wasn’t a request. At last, Sigyn obeyed.

Who knew her highness is just as good at taking orders as she is giving them, Jake noted as Marc led them to join the few couples already dancing.

Somewhere in the middle

Think I lied a little

Sigyn was a quick study as to where to place her hands, fighting to ensure that her face wouldn't betray just how good it felt to grip Marc’s hard but warm flesh under her hands, and the two were sidestepping together in no time.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I know that I seem a little stressed out

But you’re here now

And you’re turning me on

Marc ignored how intoxicating Sigyn’s closeness was and focused on how to get more information out of her. It was clear she was feeling vulnerable, he needed to meet her where she was at.

“I got divorced. Recently.”

Sigyn’s eyes found Marc’s, open and compassionate. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he shrugged, “but know I do get what you’re going through.”

Put my mind at ease

Pretty please

“At least with my ex-wi—with Layla, things were pretty cut and dry as to why. I couldn’t be there for her, I couldn’t protect her, now she’s mixed up in the same shit as I am” Marc shared. “But what I can’t figure out is why Loki would leave you to team up with someone who wants you all dead.”

“Because he wants a throne,” Sigyn answered simply. “He’s always wanted a realm of his own to rule over. I suppose he believes allying himself with Gorr will not merely dispose of Thor but all deities who would challenge him.”

“But Gorr would kill him-“

“Not if Loki double-crosses him first,” Sigyn pointed out.

She knows how he thinks, Marc noted to himself, the song’s dulcet melody filling the silence.

If we take it further I swear I ain’t gonna break

So baby come try me

“But what do I know? Things had been comfortable, content between us. This could just as easily be his latest and arguably his grandest act of self-sabotage,” Sigyn mused. “A subject you seem well-acquainted with, no?”

“Dinner, dancing, and head-shrinking? You really know how to show a guy a good time, your highness.”

“Tell me Marc, did Layla ever say she required your protection?”

He bristled, refusing to reply.

“I don’t know her—“

“Yeah, you don’t.”

“But I’d venture that Layla, if she married you, hardly wanted, let alone needed, your protection.”

Marc’s grip tightened on Sigyn’s waist but he said nothing. They continued to dance in silence as the band moved into a new song.

Too much time, losing track of us

Where was the real?

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Loki left you to protect you from what he felt he had to do?”

“A noble thought.” The same pained smile spread across Sigyn’s lips. “But you don’t know my husband.”

“I don’t,” he conceded, “but if our paths cross, I’ll be sure to kick his ass.”

“By all means. If there’s anything left after I’m finished with him, that is.”

Marc laughed, instinctively holding Sigyn closer, their lips millimeters apart. The air seemed to crackle around them.

Is it just our bodies?

Are we both losing our minds?

Instead of bringing his mouth to hers, Marc turned his face to murmur into Sigyn’s ear. “How about we get out of here?”

She shook her head. “Take me upstairs.”

Is the only reason you’re holding me tonight ‘cause we’re scared to be lonely?

Marc didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the song came to an end, he escorted Sigyn off of the dance floor and out of the restaurant. With the way the waitstaff was fawning over the princess, he figured they’d know to put their meal on S.W.O.R.D.’s tab.

They crossed the expansive lobby with Marc’s arm around Sigyn’s waist, but not daring to do anything more. The wait for the elevator was excruciating, he could already feel himself beginning to grow hard, but all bets were off when the larger metallic doors closed behind them.

Their lips crashed together with a surprising amount of force, finally no longer denying their desire for each other. Sigyn’s hands gripped either side of Marc’s face, while his hands found purchase on her hips, walking her blindly back into the wall of the elevator, pressing his hard-on against her.

A throaty moan escaped Sigyn’s mouth in between harsh, hungry kisses when she felt Marc’s erection against her hip. She grinded against him, savoring the friction, detaching their lips to whisper, “Is that all for me, Moon Knight?”

He mouthed at her neck, encircling each of her wrists in his hands, pinning them to the wall, “Shut up.”

Sigyn acquiesced with a giggle that suddenly morphed in a moan when Marc bit down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

The elevator doors opened to their floor with a high chime. The pair stumbled out and disconnected, Marc adjusting his jacket to try and hide his boner while Sigyn smoothed out her dress, both aware that there were still two guards posted at the other end of the hallway outside the suite.

“Your highness,” they greeted them, opening the door for Sigyn and Marc.

She smiled and acknowledged the guards with a nod, hoping her eyes telegraphed Sigyn’s gratitude for not commenting on their appearances.

As soon as the door closed behind them in the suite, the two launched themselves at each other once more. This time Marc’s hands went straight under the hem of Sigyn’s dress to her ass and lifted the princess into his arms.

“I should fuck you against the door so they can hear,” Marc growled.

“Naughty,” Sigyn played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “spread me out on the bed first.”

Marc obliged, carrying her into the bedroom, and depositing Sigyn on the bed with a toss. She laid back amongst the pillows, separating her legs to give Marc a glimpse of the scrap of black lace covering her as he stripped off his shirt and toed off his loafers.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Sigyn did so, and Marc unzipped her dress and slid it down her shoulders, kissing every newly exposed notch of her back as he went. He slipped off her stilettos and pushed the black fabric down her hips, Marc’s mouth watering when Sigyn’s full, toned ass came into view. He snapped the strap of her flimsy thong against her golden skin, earning a shiver from Sigyn.

“This ass,” he groaned as he pulled Sigyn’s back flush with his front. Marc snaked his hands up her taut abdomen, then cupped her breasts in his large hands.

“Marc,” she mewled as he resumed his attack on her neck.

He teased her nipples, pinching them. “What do you want?”

She answered him by slithering out of his grasp and twisting back around on the bed, sitting back on her heels. Sigyn’s hands went straight to Marc’s belt, undoing the strip of leather and unzipping his fly. She reached inside, taking his massive, insistent bulge in hand through Marc’s boxer-briefs, squeezing him through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Sigyn withdrew only to pull his pants and underwear down, Marc aiding her and by kicking them off. He stood before her in all of his glory, and a wicked, satisfied glint flashed in Sigyn’s eyes when she was able to take in Marc’s member without any obstruction. She bit her lip unconsciously - he was uncut and thick. An errant thought danced through her mind —she owed her sort-of brother-in-law an apology and her heartiest gratitude for pairing them together.

Concentrating back on the task before her, Sigyn pumped Marc a few times, climbed off the bed, and knelt before him. She brought her lips to his head tracing the shape of her mouth before laving kitten licks up his length.

Marc gazed down at Sigyn through hooded lids as his cock slipped between her lips and she bobbed up and down. He rested a hand on the back of Sigyn's head, guiding her eager mouth along the length of his dick. Shit she was good at this.

Well, she is a thousand-year-old goddess, Steven pointed out, probably had loads of time to practice.

The last thing Marc wanted to do was think about Sigyn with another man, the thought prompted him to begin thrusting into the warm, wet suction of the princess’s mouth. She moaned.

C’mon, fuck her mouth, Jake urged in Steven’s absence.

As if she could read their thoughts, Sigyn grasped onto the globes of Marc’s ass and pulled him deeper. His eyes rolled back in his head as she proceeded to deep throat him. Did Asgardians not have gag reflexes?

Marc could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. He pulled himself from between Sigyn’s plush lips, but the princess looking up at him with her wide sapphire orbs and glistening pout was nearly enough to undo Marc.

“Wanna come in your pussy,” he offered as an explanation, lifting Sigyn to her feet and pushing back onto the bed again. This time, he covered her body with his, Marc’s hand slipping down to her underwear, toying with Sigyn’s clit through the lace.

She let out a breathy cry, both relieved and riled up that her core was getting some much-needed attention. Marc’s dexterous fingers continued playing with her while another slipped between her folds, earning another keen from the princess. He proceeded to rip the thong clean off her body and redouble his efforts by thrusting two fingers inside of Sigyn. She canted her hips to meet his strokes, just as hungry for this as he was.

“Sigyn,” he murmured.

“Hgggnnn,” came her incredibly coherent reply.

“We need protection.”

Her eyes popped open, her brow creasing. “From what?”

“Sexually transmitted diseases,” he explained, “and pregnancy.”

“Our kind can’t contract any diseases from yours,” she panted. Marc hadn’t ceased his ministrations and hit a particularly delectable spot inside of her. “And I take a – um, tincture. F-f-for contraception.”

His thumb drew circles around her clit. “Fuck me already, Marc,” she demanded.

Marc was all too eager to acquiesce. He withdrew his fingers from Sigyn, inserting them into her eager mouth while he lined himself up with her dripping core. Sigyn licked Marc’s digits clean, treating him to more insistent, needy moans as he ran the head of his cock through her wetness.

At last Marc sank into Sigyn’s tight cunt. She felt just as heavenly as he’d imagined she would, her walls clinging to his shaft in a vice-like grip, encouraging him to sheath himself further.

As Marc pulled out to thrust back in deeper, Sigyn wrapped an arm around his neck and brought their mouths together once again. They collided in a mess of teeth and tongues, Sigyn breaking the liplock only when Marc picked up the pace of his hips, her neck thrashing to the side.

It felt as though Marc was consuming her, spearing her apart with his thick girth, and she loved it. What they shared felt more primal than her lovemaking with Loki had been as of late. Sex was a tactic or carefully calculated move in the chess game that her marriage had become, with Marc it seemed that they needed each other equally as badly, and for the same reason. To forget someone else.

And with a face like that and the way Marc pistoned his fat cock into her, Sigyn had no problem with forgetting everything except the stretch in her pussy, Marc’s dark, unflinching gaze, and the pair of bulging biceps that held her wrists above her head.

“You’re so strong,” Sigyn exhaled.

Marc grunted a reply, continuing to hammer into her.

“But so am I,” Sigyn smirked as broke free of his grasp, flipping them over so she was on top. She canted her hips and pinned Marc’s wrists just as he had hers, a devilish grin playing across her kiss-bruised lips.

Despite the hot thrill that raced down Marc’s spine at having a partner who could match his strength and the view of Sigyn’s tits bouncing in time with his thrusts, he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

“Oh no you don’t,” Marc rolled them over again, splaying Sigyn back on the bed. He hooked the backs of her knees in the bends of his elbows to spread her legs wider and pounded in deeper.

Sigyn threw her head back against the bed’s downy comforter. “Norns, Marc, yes.”

But Marc was unable to shake the idea of fucking the Asgardian against the wall. He collected her in his arms and carried her to the wall opposite the bed. Sigyn’s breath hitched when Marc re-entered her and resumed his punishing pace. She clenched around him even harder, relishing the contrast between the rigid, polished wood paneling at her back and Marc’s searing flesh, damp with sweat, pressing into her front.

Marc was unrelenting in his assault on Sigyn’s pussy, driving his hips into her, earning a hybrid of a moan and shriek when the tip of his cock found her g-spot. He focused there with his thrusts, swallowing Sigyn’s cries and moans as he impaled her. Though initially Marc has wanted the guards to hear just how well he was fucking her royal highness, he’d changed his mind. Now he wanted all of Sigyn’s sweet little sounds for himself.

Particularly sweet was the sound of slick slap on skin-on-skin from where they were joined. “Do you hear that?” Marc asked her, his voice gravel. It sent another shudder through Sigyn. “You’re so wet for me baby, you gonna come on my cock?”

Sigyn pulled Marc closer to her, digging her manicured nails into the thick muscles of his traps. “Make me.”

The Asgardian’s challenge spurred Marc to redouble his efforts, holding Sigyn up with his pistoning hips and only one arm, the other shooting straight down to her clit. He rubbed rough, persistent circles into the nub, prompting Sigyn’s cunt to clench around him so tightly he could barely thrust.

Marc didn’t mind though, he ground his hips into hers and continued his stream of filthy goading, “You like that? ‘Cause I love the way your tight cunt is squeezing me. Come on, cream on my cock baby.”

Sigyn snapped with a loud, unprincess-like wail as she came, her pussy spasming around Marc’s hot length inside her. Her orgasm rushed like a roaring flame through her veins, her nails digging so deep into Marc’s shoulders she nearly drew blood. Marc didn’t stop grinding his dick into her core as Sigyn came, prolonging her release as he chased his. She didn’t know how long it took for the blinding euphoria to settle, but when Sigyn regained coherence Marc was still frantically fucking into her.

Despite the oversensitivity beginning to set into her groin, Sigyn tightened around his pulsing dick again and urged him on, “Marc, wanna feel you.”

That did it - not a moment later was Marc painting her walls with his hot seed. He slammed his free hand against the wall and his chest vibrated with a deep groan as he emptied himself inside of Sigyn, the climax so good he could forget about Khonshu, his divorce, and the impending threat of the Godbutcher, if only for a moment.

Marc gathered the remains of his strength and walked them back over to the bed, his softening cock still inside Sigyn. This time he lay her on the now mussed duvet much more gingerly, and extracted himself from her just as carefully.

They lay beside each other, looking into each other’s eyes for the right thing to say. This was so not how Marc thought tonight would go when he got the call from Agent Woo, but he was not complaining.

Marc spoke first. “How do you feel?”

Sigyn smiled - not an imperious smirk, nor the grin she used to mask her pain when talking about Loki. A genuine, unguarded smile. “Very good.”

“Just very good?” Marc scoffed with mock offense.

“Very very good,” Sigyn assured him with a kiss. “Wonderful, even. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Marc found it too easy to get lost in Sigyn’s eyes. “I am famished, though.”

“You did work up quite the appetite, Mister Spector,” Sigyn remarked. She sat up, pushing herself off of the bed. “Order us something, I’m going to clean up.”

What a gentleman you are, Steven fumed, leaving her to fend for herself as soon as you’re finished.

Marc sat up as well, eschewing firing back at Steven that he barely wasn’t a virgin anymore, and grabbed Sigyn’s wrist as she headed toward the en-suite. “I can get you–”

“It’s no trouble,” she told him. She gestured to her now thoroughly wrecked updo. “Besides I should tend to this.”

“Wait, let me…” Marc slid his fingertip along the inside of Sigyn’s thigh where his release had trickled out of her. She bent over obediently and sucked it clean, making Marc’s spent cock twitch in a valiant attempt to harden again so soon.

He enjoyed the view of the naked princess traipsing into the bathroom, then grabbed the in-room phone.

Part 2

A/N: The night’s just getting started for Sigyn and the Moon Boys...

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