#deathqvccn

Oh, I’m 100% sure it was Hela that slapped him on the back of the head. I’M ALSO 100% SURE THAT THE LITTLE FUCKER /DESERVED/ IT.

                               x. Upsetting and Twisted reaction asks for Sad Muses

This one is sort of tricky because there are two halves to it. There’s the “I’m alone” that he felt after one moment, and then there’s the other half that came later. That silence that nearly deafens and the absence of someone in places you expect them to be or when you’re doing things that used to nearly HAVE to include them. The “It’s just me” moment. 

The first significance, without a single doubt, it was the time Vali finally accepted his brother’s death and that he was gone. Narfi was probably the only person Vali ever needed in his life; and after Narfi’s death, Vali could never mentally accept it, he even refused to mourn him like he was supposed to. He had deluded himself into thinking “he’s alive somewhere”, and into thinking, there was a way he could get him back. 

Mind you, these twins were as connected as siblings could get; Vali and Narfi, no matter how far away from the other they were, they could sense the other. They could find each other blindfolded, on their senses alone. That has been what’s kept Vali from feeling so alone.

The delusion that he can “feel that Narfi is alive”, is a reverie to anyone, but to Vali it was real. He had hallucinated his brother, illusioned, mentally manipulated himself, that there was something he could do. 

But finally, during a freewrite or “drabble”, he was finally forced into facing the truth, with the help of his father. As Vali’s writer, it was a scene that actually broke MY heart to write. Because Vali, at least in some sense, even imaginary, had his brother. The only person he ever truly trusted. That feeling of “knowing his brother was alive” was really the only company of Narfi he had left. The drive, motivation, etc. He thought that, over the wall somewhere, his brother was waiting. He didn’t feel alone. But after letting Narfi go, he finally knew his brother was gone and that he was alone in a world without him. That too, as a writer, hurt because Vali is probably one of the strongest muses I’ve had, When his brother was alive, Vali was the strong, never-back-down, but kind and humble one. And when I watch him crumble like that, it’s incredibly heartbreaking to watch.

Now, for the second half. Probably honestly, the one I hate the most. The “It’s just me?” moment, the loneliest he ever felt, came at a moment during that next anniversary of his birth, just how alone he truly was and how much, he just genuinely, missed Narfi. 

ɴsғᴡ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ. 

                   ★ - - - Face is pressed against the side of her face, pressed in so as physically close as possible. Wanting to feel her quivering under his touch, hear every whimper and soft gasp close to his ear. Everything felt so personal, and he felt so in control. Keeping her practically pinned against the wall, his hand down her pants. He hadn’t quite slipped his hand past the band of her panties, massaging her over the thin fabric. Pointer and middle finger teasing and dragging until he was satisfied with how wet she’d gotten. Second is taken to nudge the fabric aside, finger tips slowly teasing at her entrance before he slides both fingers in.

 Motions are slow to start with, pushing them in deep. Mouth crushes against hers in a heated and open-mouthed kiss to taste her, to bite down on her lower lip and suckle on it until it starts to swell. “Mm, you feel so tight around my fingers, baby.” Fingers curl inside of her, thumb pressing against her clit, beginning to rub circular motions as he continues to finger fuck her, driving them deep as he picks up velocity. “I already know you’re going to feel amazing on my cock.” Hip presses into the side of hers, letting her feel just how hard he was for her, practically throbbing at the thought of being sheathed deep inside of her. Especially with how wet she was - he was running out of patience. 

Losing his will to not pick her up right then and there and set her on his hip, bury himself inside her and work those moans out of her, make her gasp and cry out his name until she went hoarse. Except he’d gone on a personal mission to make her come by just using his fingers. So when she bucks her hips and tries pushing down, metal hand instantly grabs at her hip, holding her firm in place. “Relax, baby girl.” Faint humor in his tone indicates he isn’t close to being done with her. Now with the way he starts searching for a specific pleasure point to send her over the edge. Finger tips will occasionally brush over it, to send jolts of pleasure through her, pleasure that he’ll currently refuse to completely let her indulge in for longer than milliseconds. 

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