#abvnai

@abvnai​ said:  “ you need to heal first. ”

          his knuckles had ghosted from the grip he’d held on the kitchen counter, lungs winded and feet like cinder blocks dragging across the floor. the bandages hugging his midsection are fresh along with the sweats he could have sworn he wore at least three times since she’s been taking care of him. be it feeding his dogs or making sure the bed was comfortable to his liking, will was certain that his death would come in the form of her kindness. he wasn’t ungrateful nor had he been entirely unkind, but his tongue was sharp and his tone was always a mixture of salt and vinegar whenever she pointed out he wasn’t strong enough or too weak to move around on his own. it was simple things, too. going to the bathroom, down the stairs, even going outside to feel the crisp, autumn air chill his cheeks. never alone, because she walked him to and fro no matter the ungodly hours. sooner or later, she would clash heads with jack the moment he grew impatient from will’s absence on the field. something about killers don’t take sick days just because someone on the force got stabbed.

          will doesn’t want crawford involved in his personal life  ---  it’s been hell keeping hannibal sated with over the phone sessions as it was and stalling alana at the door when she showed up with get well items. he’s not hiding beau, or so he tells himself. there was a difference between hiding and keeping her uninvolved. was that the same? maybe it depends on how the person view it. ❛ if i didn’t know any better, i’d say i was paul sheldon and you were annie wilkes.❜  his smile is taut, prostrated. much like the rest of his body and he dare not to cave in to his obvious weakness from moving too much and too often.  ❛ i’m fine. the sooner i get back to work, the sooner i can stop being your burden. ❜

@abvnai​ said:  “  i’ve got your back, okay? ”

      ❛ no,❜  he breathes out quickly. there’s an uneasy chill to the night air and the king can’t tell if an early fall is blooming or being elevated so high up on the balcony of the tower is playing its part. for a moment, t’challa forgets to respond once more and clarify why his answer had been direct. almost harsh, but not towards beau in any way  --- more towards the upcoming battle that would take place in his homeland.  ❛ not this time. ❜  the king closes his eyes for a moment before turning to face her, thumb and index digit worrying the mantle in a way that represents his unease with it all. thanos was an unpredictable foe and the casualties would be many, he knows. and while beau was a capable and strong woman, one t’challa admired and grew fond of, he cannot allow her to be by his side for this. he’s usually okay with her persistence and stubbornness when it comes to following him into battle or in general after he’s told her to stay put. this time, it is the order of a king. one who has no intention of dying yet no guarantee of returning either. however, her expression is foreign and he can’t tell if she’s pissed that he’s forbade her from joining him or if it’s an underlying fear that tonight is the last time she’ll see him alive and well. both?  ❛ i will carry you with me in spirit, mm?❜

@abvnai​ said:  “ you said you wanted to talk. ”

    oh, he did. at the time it seemed so wise, so brave, to talk about what kept him up at night. how he wished he could speak about the nightmares and images that plague his deepest, most inner thoughts when sleep called for him. for plenty, they craved the lulling and welcomed sandman into their space willingly. but loki? he fought and fought, an endless battle he was sure to lose after hours stacked. the only person who noticed was beau and in his exhaustion, words slipped out in a way he hadn’t meant. he hoped she wouldn’t come to the kitchen, see him so disheveled and unlike himself-- so different from the charade he put up around stark tower. head in hands, her gentle question sounds achingly genuine and the trickster peers at her, slow and heavy. ❛  i did. ❜

    he do. out of everyone who spoke, they were still hiding behind their distrust and hatred for his crimes. no amount of convincing would make them ever forget his crimes on midgard and he doesn’t blame them one bit. his source of comfort were books and the minor chit-chat with thor when he wasn’t busy. he knows beau won’t let him off the hook so easily with his reply and the god opts to be honest ( his tricks bagged ) and a coward in the same breath. ❛  forgive me for what i said earlier, it was the lack of sleep and nothing more. ❜  her kindness scares him. genuineness scares him.

@abvnai​ said:  ‘ how did you get in here? ’

     from his seated position, delamain glances over to a stunned beau, silent momentarily as if processing the question in full. oh, she means the braindance simulation-- or so he assumes since this would be the first time she’s seen his hologram and not just a voice floating from the sleek v-tech. he is, however, connected to the net and therefore has access to her mental simulation. physically and not just a projected being this time around. ❛ it is your first time using night city’s tech, of course. what you’re experiencing is your own simulation, reality and so forth-- i merely hijacked into the system to keep an eye on your well-being and this was the state which i am being presented in.❜  the ai stands now, dapper in his appearance and such. most of the time, people do not seem to associate him with what he controls since most of the vehicles are not quite luxury and sleek looking.  ❛ i believe your subconscious was..curious as to what i would look like as a human instead of the quadra. but do not be alarmed, you may request this appearance outside of the simulation with one drawback. i will not be physical but holographic.❜

The one thing among many things I like about your portrayal is the way you seem to understand the inner workings of Jax’s mind and continue to flesh him out as a character. The love u have for him is evident and more so than the show gave him, which I appreciate 

                       ❝           shit, what ? ❞ it’s still a fucked up situation. he says it so casually, she would have thought he was merely talking about someone getting a mixed-up order at McDonalds, not a cause of death.  but other than her stunned expression at his correction, which leads to her narrowing her eyes in a glare, a hand on her hip and a fist midswing ( which later connects with his shoulder ) she isn’t really surprised.   ❝ any other lies you want to clear up before we get ahead of ourselves ? ❞

scream franchise prompts. @knifewields​

@abvnai​ said:  [ calm ] your muse telling mine to ‘just breathe’

    in the vivid moments of torture and excruciating pain, he begins to wonder if not telling anyone about his year long absence was to blame for his predicament. of course, no one would dream of offering sympathy towards the mad god --- perhaps they would find solace in knowing he does indeed suffer in ways they cannot cause nor fathom to relation. sleep is no longer kingdom come and when red stains his vision, the sharp and searing burn of agony crawl up his spine, he feels the physical shift. something real and not tricks of the mind, someone calling out to him in a panic. he’s screaming, agony and rage knotted. he wrestles with the grasp around his waist, pleading ( begging ) for sweet death. he craves release from the hellish moments which had continued for so damn long. and she gives it to him without fully knowing how just her words alone is enough to make the trickster snap awake, jolting upright within her arms and almost crashing his forehead into hers. for a split, sweat-drenched moment, loki looks wild and unaware of the situation. even his breathing feels...wrong. why was she here?

    he collects his composure steadily as deep breaths will allow, their close proximity not entirely helping the rapid beating of his heart. ❛ silly girl, ❜  loki breathes out, raising a hand to press a palm delicately to the side of her face, trembling and uncoordinated as fingers curl into the loose strands of her hair.  ❛ are you mad, grabbing me like this? ❜  i could have hurt you.  but he’s not willing to say much more than he already has, especially in his current state of disarray. withdrawing back against the headboard with a loud thud, his expression goes from composed to worn out, exhaustion seeping into his bones and making him limp. all he can do is stare at her before scoffing lightly and shaking his head, sending dark strands a scattering flock across his face.  ❛  i must be a bloody damn sight, am i not? if you’re going to mock me, best get on with it.❜

    he’d been out on a mission that required the use of time travel and fixing a strange occurrence that had happened during the earlier week; none of the avengers happy about him being acquainted with the weapon that caused chaos before but deciding it was their only hope and thankfully, loki was in a swell enough mood to agree. it all went according to plan and the god had returned everyone within a few hours, evening slowly approaching but enough daylight to spare for him to take a detour and head towards the library, wanting to grab something for later when sleep failed to claim him. he could teleport, could use his magic to conjure up a random novel and surprise himself, yet long legs continued to carry him down the corridor, pass the floor windows that offered a splendid view of the city stretching beyond the horizon. and as if on cue, he can hear the familiar voice, feminine and determined. she’s marking the topic as her own and somehow loki can picture how she must look-- so bold and fearless, much like a valkyrie boosting morale. he doesn’t know what beau is to him ( friends seem quite far-fetched in his miserable assumption ) and he to her in return. aside from their late night talks and casual greetings when passing, there’s really nothing solid. however, he won’t deny growing very fond of her company more than the others roaming the tower. his strides slow, curiosity in what had her worked up so passionately when the sound of skin meeting skin in the harshest of joining echoes within the hall. and he’s no fool as to what just happened, even more so when the angry male voice booms with scoldings.

             how dare he. . .

    it washes over him like onslaughts of tidal waves, drowning him without purpose or care. that anger which crushes all sensible reason seems to fly out the damn window and no longer is he the taciturn god who kept his distance. bang. the sound resonates, pulsates against walls and marbled floor. bangbangbang, steady as a war drum. one minute there’s no one in sight before the sudden flutter of green light splits the space between beau and the agent--- and gold splits flesh of a palm wide, a dagger carving ever so gently into a bobbing adam’s apple. his movement is fast, elegant and smooth without ever missing a beat nor staining a stitch of fabric on his midnight suit. ❛ i would normally carve out your tonsils...❜  the rest is a gruesome threat that sends the agent in the opposite direction and cursing, damning loki as a monster and so forth.