Sigyn sighed. “Hold on.” She went back to her closet and pulled out a clean t-shirt. It was large and came down to Sigyn’s fingertips when she stood and since she was only two inches taller than Cherry it would work. “Here. I don’t know what you did with your clothes but put this on for now.” She tossed the shirt at the naked girl, aware she herself was only wearing a towel.

Her Small, Bare, and Silver Feet Gleamed in the Black Mirror of Marble {{Closed}}

Eddie couldn’t take being alone with his thoughts anymore.

He heard his Sissy still talking to him, telling him that he needed to stop his drinking and focus on his writing without that terrible influence that was behind it. He grabbed his black cape, already torn in a few places, and flitted out of the room, needing to take a walk to perhaps clear his cluttered mind.

As he walked along the streets, he made eye contact with no one, and thought he heard his name, but ignored it. As he continued walking, he glanced into a bar, stopping for a moment.

You promised…

He shook his head, turning away from the bar. He sighed and came to the iron gates of a cemetery, turning into it, walking aimlessly.


It wasn’t fair.

He’d destroyed his creation. He had given himself up. He had surrendered to the police, willing to face the penalties for his crimes. He had permitted those who took him into custody to put inhibitor collars on the actuators, suppressing their control over their physical ‘bodies’ and leaving only an unhappy, chattering buzz in the back of his head. He’d been expecting prison for his crimes, had accepted the fact.

What had actually happened was far different.

Oh, he’d been imprisoned alright. Dragged into a high-security prison. Restrained, hand, foot, and tentacle. Sedated, kept heavily drugged, until he had no idea when the days slid into one another in a foggy blur. Woken only at intervals, coming round in a too-bright room that made his eyes burn with pain, surrounded by monitoring equipment, covered in probes, asked questions by a man with a heavy German accent.

Otto had no real recollection of what he said in response to those questions. His tongue felt thick and heavy, and his brain was not working well as he struggled to throw off the effects of the sedative. 

This time was a little different. His mind felt a little clearer, and he could more clearly make out his surroundings. There were people here, watching from below the platform where he was being held. And for the first time he could remember since being incarcerated here, he heard the faint chatter of the actuators.


It was his turn to go out on patrol tonight, and the red masked mutant was feeling somewhat.. alright considering the fact that most of his anger that was kept bottled up for years had been unleashed on the serial killer known as the Jester. As he waded through ankle level water in the sewer, Raphael noticed a shape in the distance from the tunnel he moved through.

Slowly, he moved a hand down and gripped onto the sai which was strapped to his utility belt. Cautiously.. he moved forward to get a better look at the shape that was outlined by the dim light. Upon seeing that it was a woman, Raphael snarled with a light growl.

“Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing here?”

Dragon’s Treasure (cherryfinolahobbes)

Find the stone.

The order was carved into his mind, overwriting all other desires.

Loki hated it. He hated the order that drove him to act. To keep pushing on with little care for any more than the minimal food and rest required to keep him functioning. It was there, more obsession than desire.

In full armor, spear in hand, he pressed his way up the side of the forest-covered mountain, past tall and leafy trees of rich and vibrant green, past springs of bubbling crystal and aqua ringed with polished stones of rainbow hues, past cliffs that shone like warm flames in the sunlight, until he came upon the cave.

His footsteps echoed on the smooth white limestone floor as he strode into it. His spear rang clearly as he struck the base against the stone. His eyes burned with fevered verdant intensity as he gazed back into the heart of the cave.

“Dragon!” he called. “I seek a treasure that lies within your hoard. Surrender it, and I shall permit you to live.”

S m i l e s & S h a d o w s

          T h e – - area outside the ice cream shop was bustling with mortals, some passing by on the sidewalk, others seated around them at the cheap, plastic tables provided to them. It was hot out despite the current season, and while on most days he would have been in complete discomfort and opted to hide in her shadow, today it was easy enough to ignore.

          He did nothing but stare at her with admiration as she spoke, entranced by her eyes and the way her lips moved. P i t c h  carefully reached over and plucked the cherry off the top of her sundae. “Yᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, I ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ,” he casually said over her, his tone dripping with - – s u g g e s t i v e n e s s

[ cherryfinolahobbes ]

It's Just Coffee (closed with cherryfinolahobbes)

He really should have told Cherry he was going away for a few days- and truly he could have kicked himself for not doing so. With all the planning and plotting he’d been doing, figuring out how to get into Asgard, how best to veil himself, how to get access to what he was there to steal- he’d simply forgotten.

Well, he couldn’t change what he’d done now. For all his manipulative skill, the past yet remained immutable, inchangeable, even for him.

Loki, currently wearing the face, the comfortable green sweater, and glasses of the mortal guise he had named Loren, sighed a little and toyed with his cup of coffee. How upset with him would Cherry be when she arrived? Would she even arrive? She’d not really answered his text when he’d sent it…

He was hopeful enough that she would that he now sat at their usual table in their usual coffeeshop at the time he’d specified, waiting, his back as always to the corner so he could watch the room and the few dozen people sitting at tables and in soft squishy chairs, chattering to each other, into phones, or typing away at laptops or slender little tablets, a bustle of movement and sound that drew both the eye and ear.


Emily went out of her parents house in the worst possible mood. Lips pressed in thin line and frown all over her face. How could they deny her the right to meet who she wants to?! She was pouting like a little child. Walking across the park, she noticed a bench and sat there for a while to calm down. She tried not to think about it but made it even worse. And that was the moment it started raining. “Uh!” She looked around and asked woman that was just walking in the right direction, “I’m sorry, could I fit under your umbrella too?” Puppy eyes added to the sad tone should do the trick, she hoped.

cherryfinolahobbes asked:

(meme) It'll help if you talk about it,

Send “It’ll help if you talk about it,” and my character will confide in yours a memory or nightmare they’ve had that’s been bothering them.

Kurt took a shuddering breath, steeling himself as he took her advice. Part of him didn’t want to talk about it, but part of him did. He needed to get it off his chest, off his tongue, and dispersed into the air. If only problems were so easily dealt with. One could just speak them and let the wind carry them away for good. Sadly, it didn’t work that way.

He was staring at the floor, unable to meet her eyes while he spoke. “I know Norman Osborne has done terrible things to you, Cherry. I know you may feel alone, and scared, and hurt, and I wish I could tell you that being away from it makes it all better, but as you can see, it does not.” Another deep breath. “You can imagine what life must have been like, growing up looking like this.” That part actually shocked a lot of people; it was nearly unheard of for a mutant to be born with any mutation at all. Those who were born with one usually only had minor differences, like hair or eye color.

“I am sorry,” he said, shaking his head and finally burying them in his hands. It took him a moment before he would speak again. “It is just…I still often have difficulty dealing with issues from my past. I cannot help it. It’s…I…” It should have been obvious that the poor elf was doing his best not to cry. He kept having to pause and take deep, shaky breaths, and he was hiding his face in his hands. His tail was wrapped tightly around his calf, and his body was hunched in a way to make him seem as small as possible.

Eventually, he looked up, staring at the corner where the wall met the ceiling, still neglecting to look at Cherry. “I recognized someone who hurt me very badly today. I saw him in a crowd - what are the odds? The last I saw him, he was in Florida. Everyone called him Big Bruce. He was my main…” He paused, searching for the right word. None fit. “Caretaker when I was in Florida. They…they had me in a cage. They took me away from my family and put me in a cage.” His voice broke and his yellow eyes shone with tears. He had to look away, down and to the side, turning his head away from her. Still, he was resolute. He refused to cry. “I was only fourteen. They hurt me. They degraded me. They robbed me of my decency, my dignity, and even my humanity. I dare say they broke me.” Obviously, he had put himself back together, or rather, had been pieced back together with the loving care of his God and his new family.

Shaking his head, he admitted, “I do not know how long I spent there. No more than a few months, but…” His hands wrung themselves in his lap and his tail twisted anxiously. “It was awful.”

cherryfinolahobbes asked:

Cherry stuck her head into the lab, finding the mussed salt and pepper hair of the scientist she was looking for, "Dr. Banner...?" (sorry this took so long. I didn't see your response in my tag right away >_<)

Bruce looked up with a small smile and a slightly sorrowful look in his eyes upon hearing that familiar voice. “Hey, Cherry. What’ve you been up to?”