#thundermaster

Day 1: NSFW "We shouldn't be doing this."

@rolaninto2026

The Sorcerous Sundries archive needed to be reorganized. Since taking charge of Ramazith's Tower, Rolan had come across so many improperly categorized tomes that the whole system basically needed to be re-shelved. And that's what Coren volunteered to help with.

It'd only been a few weeks since Coren returned to the Tower, and she was trying to make herself as useful as possible. So Coren naturally offered to help Rolan on this massive undertaking. Alone, it might take Rolan weeks to complete. And at the rate they were currently going, it would take them even longer. Because they should be shelving books right now, but that task had come to an abrupt halt.

One of Coren's hands dug her nails into his arm, the other gripped the back of his neck as he ran his warm lips over her cool skin. Only the sweet sound of Coren's rapid breaths filled the dusty Sundries' archive. Sounds she made for him as his teeth grazed her collar bone and his hips drove himself deeper into her. Gods he had missed her while she was away, but she had come back to him. She wanted him.

Rolan adjusted his grip on her ass, angling her better against the bookcase to pound into her slick with renewed fervor. Another book slid off the shelf by Coren's head and hit the floor with a thunk. The sound echoed through the closed chamber. It wasn't long ago the sun began to fade under the horizon and while they were alone, a few employees still lingered in the shop below them. Rolan had locked the door, that was a trifling spell barely more than a flick of the wrist, but his desire for Coren burned too hot for him to waste time doing anything about the sound. They might still be found out. Found in this unprofessional predicament.

Reluctantly, he removed his mouth from her skin. "We shouldn't be doing this," Rolan gasped. Coren locked her legs around his hips, squeezing him in her thighs.

"Probably not," she panted. Coren threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging it back to meet his eyes. "are you going to stop?"

noisemaster and mistmaster fusion

~ Grandthorki Day ~ Zero More Days ~

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Loki’s heart drops, all rational thought vanishing, and he lunges away—or tries, yanked up short so he doesn’t even make it off the Grandmaster’s lap. Faintly glowing threads of power tether him to the chair at wrists, knees, and ankles, immovable and unbreakable. In the mirror he sees another thread coil around his throat, and then—

You should choose your words more carefully.

—he can’t breathe.

Nothing is touching him except the Grandmaster’s magic but he can feel it again, the unyielding pressure of the Infinity Gauntlet bruising his flesh and squeezing his windpipe shut. He struggles, choking. Nothing gets in or out.

He’s trapped. He can’t breathe.

“Now, that’s the stuff,” the Grandmaster says appreciatively. He pats Loki’s quivering chest. “Keep squirming, honeybunch, that’s—well, I’m into it, that’s for sure.”

Thor takes a step toward them, his face nearly as ashen as Loki’s. “Please,” he says, “let him go, I’ll—”

The Grandmaster tsks. “I just told you like 30 seconds ago what you need to do, Sparkles, were you really not listening? I was joking when I said Kiki got all the brains in the family, but he really did, didn’t he?”

“But I—” Thor swallows, his gaze on Loki agonized. Loki’s fingers dig harder into the chair’s ruined arms as he gasps for air that never reaches his lungs. His seidr pulses weakly within him but no matter how much he scrabbles to reach it, there is nothing for him to grasp. “I can’t—”

“Better get going there,” the Grandmaster says, eyeing Loki in the mirror. “Looks like you’re uh, gonna be starting from scratch now, so…chop chop, right?”

1969 Microfrets Thundermaster Bass

Loki drew back at his outburst, his already raspy breath coming out in a quickened wheeze.

"I'm sorry," Thor said hurriedly, coughing to hide his discomfort. "I just don't want to be contaminate you- with germs."

"Oh," the brunnete whispered, his entire form drawing back onto the pillows.

Oh man I am aaall for it. 

The Grandmaster is one of those rare villains who is likeable and funny (thanks, Jeff) but yet totally demented and megalomaniacal, a complete despot with deeply perverse (and creative, gotta hand it to him) tastes. Throw in an opportunistic trickster who’s just trying to survive and a grief-stricken thundergod whose world has been turned upside down and EUREKA welcome to the plotmine. Hope you brought your pickaxe because  

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓽  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The great thing is it’s very flexible. You can go the lighthearted route like what was seen in Ragnarok, with lots of banter and humor and sass, where En Dwi is a flirtatious, flamboyant sugardaddy while a flustered Thor tries to defend his brother’s honor, it’s comedic gold. 

Or you can take a stroll down Darkfic Street.