#panthaeons

“what?” barely computing the words, bit too focused on the video they're reacting to (of course he is), austin shakes his head, eyes going from screen to hunk hasan. “ugh, cancel him, chat.” jokery smirk on his lips, suddenly his hand is on hasan's arm; the bare bicep, firm flesh underneath his digits. eyes dart back to the screen, distracting himself from the feeling with the little words from the stupid usernames.

“yeah, he just beat me up, chat, just off-camera. he hate-crimed me, cancel him. your days of homophobia are over.”

Beast gestured to the servant that he should leave, intimidating the poor civilian that likely was not a fighter in the least. Perhaps they knew about Beast's reputation as well, which meant it might be necessary to deal with that depending on how this meeting went.

"You know about my skill. So you also know my rates," he added as he approached the desk with the massive man behind it. The windows almost seemed small in comparison to him, despite being floor to ceiling.

Yet just a simple glance at the floor and ceiling showed openings where minions or automated turrets could appear. Even if Beast preferred close quarter combat, he had methods to deal with mid range targets if Kingpin wanted to test him.

"I heard about that bounty of yours. Negotiated price? What kind of target are they to earn that?" Beast had never seen a bounty where it didn't have the price on there, only heard of such things when he was training. The target must have vexed Wilson so much, he was offering nearly anything. In his old age, Beast had realized that he was tired of fucking strange holes that couldn't handle more than one night. Wilson however, with his grand muscles and sure to be fat ass looked capable. Perhaps there was a chance.

"Start us off with an offer, Fisk. Businessman that you are," he stated, wondering what kind of reward was on the table. Would it be money or something else?

　　"are we feeling comfortable, your highness?"

　　the shadow man had been generous enough to keep himself away from following through with his intended plans. turn the prince into a measly frog and shove him in some jar to avoid him pulling any funny business. but wouldn't it be a waste? the prince of maldonia was quite an specimen, with a gorgeous body that could not be passed on. that humble set of vest and trousers did no justice to the juicy muscles that hid underneath, and facilier was human at the end of the day. how could he refuse to have a taste of that thick ass when it was under his control? maybe even have a ride on that pulsing cock, let the arrogant prick unload some of his frustrations. the thought alone making him lick his lips.

　　in the meantime he had prince naveen in a dandy collar and tie, gloved hands being held down by the witch doctor's shadow, forcing him to flex his biceps. aside from that, he was bare nude, sun-kissed skin begging to be groped and licked. facilier strolled towards him, one hand stroking a plump cheek before giving it a firm slap. "don't you worry your pretty little head, our friend lawrence is taking charge of your duties." hands creeped their way across the muscled back, slipping forward and cupping two thick pecs. his crotch pressing against the cleft of that thick ass. "who needs a masquerade though. we can have some fun of our own right here."

thor ignored the disrespect thrown at him, and stepped forward into what little light is cast into the prison of the great wolf.           even if the wolf didn't speak, he could feel it: the hate that seemed to emanate from him, even in his bound state. he could still remember the laughs and the words they've slung to the wolf when they first bound him there.

he remembered they have justified it as an act to save the nine realms, and not as what it truly was-- just fear for a monster that they can't control. and during the first ragnarok, they have seen how wrong they were for it. now, he will make sure it will not happen again.    "   great wolf. i did not come here to fight you.   "    he begins, raising his hands to show they were empty. to show that he is just as himself.    "   i only wish to prevent ragnarok. are you not tired of dying?   "

"   who sent you here? was it that fucking hag in olympus?   "           she tried to keep her voice leveled, eyes up and not leaving the intruders', while she tries protect herself in vain with silk sheets and soft pillows. she was in a terrible spot, really. she chose this spot of the palace to keep the room as private as possible. now, faced with danger, she doubts her husband could her here if she screams.    "   sending her bastard son to do her deed. spinless wench. i am the goddess of this house, boy. don't you dare touch me.   "

patrick couldn't help but laugh.           a genuine, amused laugh that doesn't have a hint of malice, as he leaned his head against jake's shoulder. many people have questioned why, of all the people in his campus, he had to fall for the one with more air than brains in his skull. and to that, his answer was this: his laugh. nobody has ever made him feel happy like him.

"   i know what you mean, babe.   "    he says, before pursing his lips.    "   i still don't get why you don't like superhero movies, though. i for sure thought that would be right down your alley.   "