#intheformofstars

[eyeless-smiles]

🖐 for Hob uwu

@kissedbymischief

me a 🖐 for my muse’s reaction to your muse sliding their hand up mine’s thigh.

Hob automatically spreads his legs for the Nightmare, although he can’t recognize if this is a dream or reality at this very moment. He’s drunk. He’s at a bar? People are speaking and he doesn’t exactly know what they’re saying. But he sips his martini until it’s finished, casting a curious glance at the Corinthian.

"Here?"

The Nightmare takes another mouthful from his martini whilst his wandering hand traverses up the contours of Hob's thigh. Only stopping as his palm comes to rest inches from his groin. His fingers deliver a tantalising squeeze when the Immortal questions his intentions. Lowering his glass, dark shades direct their gaze away from the busy bar towards his drinking partner.

He gifts Hob a charming smile, clearly unbothered by the bustling scene surrounding them. Setting down his martini on the table before them, that offers very little privacy beneath.

"Whats the matter, darling?" The Nightmare questions as he leans in to bring his lips to Hob's ear, his dulcet tones carrying past the noise of the crowds and the bars music. That wandering hand inches a little higher.

"This not your scene?"

[what-the-stark]

“Let me slip into something more comfortable - your arms.” -Loki @intheformofstars

"Huh. Look at you, Bambi. Over there talking smooth as industrial lube and holding out on me, saving that game for when I least expect it. You can slip into more than my arms if you keep that up."

[benevolentgodloki]

“If you could have anything at all for your birthday, what would it be?” -Sylvie @intheformofstars

"Perhaps a little modern Midgardian night-life? We dress up, take in a show, back to a fancy hotel with a bubble bath hot-tub, fine wine, ice cream sundaes, and a very large bed."

@intheformofstars

[what-the-stark]

“Pride isn’t over yet, mon cher,” Loki purrs, and pulls Tony into a lipsticked kiss while he places a rainbow flower down atop his head. “-Be gay, perhaps do a little crime.” @intheformofstars

"Suppose I could be convinced. I hear sodomy's still illegal in a few states."

[what-the-stark]

I think you need a hug because someone might be sleep deprived. *hugs*

"If I could see you, I'm sure I'd manage a more convincing argument." Brow furrowing, he sighed, defeated. "Fine, c'mere. Take me to bed or lose me forever. Or something. Would it be weird if I asked you for a piggyback ride there?"

[benevolentgodloki]

“??” (Drunk text) -Sylvie @intheformofstars

[text] wwhuw dinst you twllm me how godod twibkies tatse???

[text] brb comqurering America to geth ALL TEH TWEBIKES!!!

[benevolentgodloki]

Sylvie slaps a rainbow heart sticker onto his right cheek, just because she can. “Happy Pride! I think I like this human celebration.” @intheformofstars

"Time to throw rainbow glitterbombs at all the relevant people we've ever heard of!"*

*If you're an MCU LGBT+ muse, feel free to assume you got Loki'd

[sovereignofdeceit]

@intheformofstars from x

Ah, so it’s not him. Not hers. Another one failing the test. But it feels like everyone is out to get her still, after everything, and any Loki is a dangerous one. There are easier ways to introduce herself, to play detective, yet those are all laced with the same outcome - this one, where it’s a stand-off of willpower and seidr and pure, unfettered rage. Sylvie is angry. At herself, at the universe, at the lies told to her from the very beginning to the very end. It’s fitting that when she whips around to spot him, her teeth are bared in a similar feral grin, fangs sharp and chest seething as she holds her broadsword steady in front of herself. Maybe she likes it, maybe the sight of the face she’s so enamored of brimming with power when cornered is exhilarating. Although, she doesn’t intend to harm unless harmed first, and this one seems to be in a bit of a bind, with ichor spilled already. So her sword lowers an inch. “I’m no more of a witch than you are, get over yourself. Are you one of the friendly variants of us, or are you going to strangle me before I can even help with your wounds?” To mirror him, without taking her eyes off his threat, her free hand lifts to offer a softer green glow, a promise of pain relief and healing through enchantment.

"Am I friendly?" Eldritch light still flickering around his hands, Loki laughed harshly, his breath hitching slightly at the burning pull of the wound in his side. "You are truly mad if you think I will trust myself into your care when you've only just threatened my life."

In that moment, as he stared at her incredulously, agony and coursing seiðr mingling in his very bones, he thought they might both be lost.

Mercurial as were they all, her decision had been made between one heartbeat and the next, had bridged the vast distance between nurture and violence that quickly, and Loki stared at her, still on guard, his brow furrowing as he considered. However little he cared to acknowledge the others, he could not ignore the evidence of his eyes or of his own unrelenting, merciless memory.

His reflection had told him more than he'd wished to know of what she'd endured, of what she'd suffered, and it lived within him now, staying his hand, at least for the moment.

"Tell me - are the only ones worthy of aid those who have the strength to reject it? Would I even now be bleeding at your feet, gasping out my last if I were weak? Forgive me if I have no desire to test my theory."