#maiden squadron

[bliss-wily]

Self indulgent screenshot dumps are queued. I love this pairing so much! A bit of sparring and some cuteness.

@universe2snumber1fan thought I would tag you as its them!

[universe2snumber1fan]

Beware! Sparking Zero spoilers!

You're still here? Ok!

Entire sketch dump of the Ginyu Force at the Tournament of Power! This what if gives me life.

@queerb consider this sketch dump 1/2

[emeraldserenade]

Heart Glasses ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: You meet your husband's new squadron one by one, all without them knowing who you truly were

tw: fem!reader, reader wears glasses, reader's mom's maiden name is Hearts, Bob's from Montana, suggestive, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This was purely because I've been getting more strangers complimenting my heart shaped glasses

➽──────────────❥

Robert Floyd was a private person, everyone who meets him can attest to it. But, the one thing he could never keep quiet about, was his wife. The very same wife who the Dagger Squad had never met and had never seen a photo of.

"Are we even sure baby on board even has a wife?" Jake, stupidly, asked. The others ignored him, Bob wasn't one to lie and they've all seen the ring and heard the one sided phone calls.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

It was Natasha that met you first, you were in the same store as her and she had spotted your glasses from farther away.

"Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I love your glasses," Natasha said as she walked up, you smiled over at her.

"Oh, thank you! My husband got them for me because my mom's maiden name is Hearts," you told her. You noticed her uniform before speaking next, "Are you Navy?"

"I am," she told you, then recited her callsign. You smiled at her, told her that was a cooler call sign, and then you two said your goodbyes before leaving. As you walked away, you realized that had to be the Phoenix your husband was back seating for.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You met Bradley next, your dad was also an enjoyer of Hawaiian shirts and his birthday was coming up. You saw a man walking around the same store you were in holding the perfect one for your father.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but where did you find that shirt?" You questioned the taller stranger.

"Oh, back there," Bradley pointed behind him snd your eyes caught sight of the shirt.

"Thank you!" You told him, racing off with a muted goodbye.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Bradley and Natasha figured out their stranger interactions had been the same person at the Hard Deck a few days later.

"I ran into the woman who asked where I found this shirt at the mall the other day," Bradley told the group. "She had these heart glasses and it was like her whole face lit up when I told her," Bradley said, he was lamenting the fact that he never asked if she was single.

"Wait," Natasha cut in. "Did she have a black purse with a butterfly attachment and y/h/c hair?" Natasha questioned. y/h/c = your hair color

"Yeah, how did you know?" Bradley questioned, his face scrunched in confusion.

"That's the woman I complimented on her glasses! She's married, her husband got her glasses for her," Natasha told Bradley, her face twisting into disgust at his earlier words of wanting to take her out.

"Damn, that's one lucky man then," Bradley mused, everyone missing the small grin growing on Bob's face. He had figured you were the one they were talking about.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Mickey was the next to meet you, he had recognized your description from the others and wanted to double check you were you. You were just walking to your car from work.

"Hi, this may sound weird but did you ask a taller man with a mustache about a Hawaiian shirt and get complimented on your glasses by a woman whose call sign is Phoenix?" Mickey rushed out before you could run away from the odd question.

"Oh, yeah, why?" You had subtly taken a step back from him.

"I'm in their squadron! They will never believe that I met you," Mickey pumped his fist in the air and you relaxed.

"Oh, well, hello," you laughed gently, your smile easy. "What do they call you?"

"Fanboy, but my name's Mickey, ma'am," he offered his hand and you shook it.

"Nice to meet you Mickey," you offered your name before walking away, you got in the car and let yourself laugh even harder. These were definitely the people from your husband's squadron.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Jake was next, he hit on you before you even looked at him.

"What's a darling lady like you doing alone?" Jake slid into your space, you were grocery shopping for breakfast while Bob slept in a bit.

"Mu husband's asleep," you told him, turning to face him.

"Wait, no way, you're the infamous y/n?" He perked up and you realized what was happening.

"Are you another from the group of people from the same squadron that I keep running into?" You questioned, a humorous smile growing on your face.

"I am, the name's Hangman," he offered his hand and you shook it.

"Well, I have no idea how many more of you there are," you lied. "But tell the others I'm excited to run into them as well," you bit him farewell while leaving, missing Jake pulling his phone out to text the Dagger Squad group.

Bagman: You'll never guess who I ran into Phoenix: Heart glasses y/n? Bagman: At the grocery store Rooster: You hit on her, didn't you? Fanboy: He most definitely did Phoenix: Did she bring up her husband? Bagman: She did Payback: I was supposed to meet her next! Coyote: I call next time

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵�� . ݁˖°✧

You met Ruben next, much to Javy's dismay. You were at the gym and Ruben couldn't find his earbud case.

"Hi, sorry," Ruben automatically apologized when you slightly jumped. "I didn't mean to scare you, it's just that I was using this machine earlier and I can't find my earbud case. Have you seen one around here by chance?"

"Oh, is it blue?" You questioned, your glasses slowly falling down your face. It brought them to Ruben's attention and you saw him get excited.

"Yeah, it is, you wouldn't happen to be y/n, would you?"

"I am, are you apart of that Navy squadron?" You grabbed the blue earbud case you had seen under the machine earlier and handed it to him.

"That I am," he affirmed and you gave him a small smile. "Thanks for this," he lifted the case up just enough for you to see it.

"You're welcome,' you paused, waiting for his name.

"Payback or Ruben, ma'am," he told you and you nodded once. You two went your separate ways and as you left for the locker room, you texted your husband.

My Girl ❤️: I ran into another one of your friends My Cowboy 🤠 ❤️: Who was it? My Girl ❤️: Payback, he was nice. Called me ma'am and only approached me because he lost his earbud case My Cowboy 🤠 ❤️: You've got one left to meet My Girl ❤️: I know, they act like they're all meeting me. I'm meeting them My Girl ❤️: Also I'm very sweaty and it will be your problem when I get home. I'm going to be all over you My Cowboy 🤠 ❤️: I can't wait

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The last to meet you was Javy, he saw you as you walked into the hangar. You were there to pick up Bob since you had to borrow his truck while your car was in the shop, and Javy recognized your description right away.

"Holy shit, you're y/n! I'm Coyote or Javy!" He practically shouted, causing many to look over at you. You were suddenly surrounded by the entire squadron, questions flying at you faster than you could process.

Your savior came in the form of your husband, as always. His hand wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled you to him, his hand slipping right to it's home on your waist. "Are you ok?" Bob lowly asked in your ear, you nodded with a bright smile on your face.

"Wait," Jake called out but his shock made him pause. "Your husband's baby on board?"

"Yeah, my husband's Bob," you told him, your eyes sharpening at the name Jake called him.

"How long have you known who we were?" Natasha asked.

"Since you, well, I didn't know who Bradley was until Bobby came home and told me. I'm sorry for never asking your name to properly thank you," you apologized to the man but he waved you off.

"I think that's ok, I did accidentally tell your husband how I was upset at myself for never asking you out," Bradley told you and you laughed at the feeling of Bob tightening his hold on you.

"He told me about that, while I appreciate two of you thinking I'm attractive, I am very happy in my marriage," you told them, it was enough to snap Jake out of his shock.

"How the hell did Bob bag you?" Jake exclaimed and you looked over at him again.

"He's got a huge," Bob cut you off with a tug away from the others.

"Ok, that's enough," your husband told you with ear tipped ears. You gave him a sweet smile as you heard the laughter from his squad. Bob led you away from them and out of the building and to the car. "You're going to pay for that," Bob told you as he started his truck, his hand landing on your thigh.

"I can't wait," you told him, your smile widening just a little bit more.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

BOASTING A TEMPLATE FORGED IN THE GOLDEN AGE OF COMICS -- A MAIDEN OF TRUTH, JUSTICE, & THE AMERICAN WAY.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on pin-up art of Maiden America, c. 1991, artwork by the late, great Dave Stevens, including the character art template in which M.A. was based off of, the Phantom Lady of DC's All-Star Squadron/Freedom Fighters super-teams fame.

Resolution at 738x1600 & 476x840.

EXTRA INFO: Original Phantom Lady pin-up from "Who's Who in the DC Universe" Vol. 1 #18, August 1986. DC Comics.

Sources: https://comicartcommunity.com/gallery/details.php?image_id=9360 & Fantasy Ink (blogspot).

[wordsofyore]

Yandere! Konig x Fem. Sacrificial Reader

König doesn't understand why you're so... accepting about all this.

Sure, he gets that it is, in an absurd sense, an honorable way to die in your culture, and there's a firm belief that you'll get to live in paradise forever and ever for your sacrifice... But he doesn't believe in your gods, your rituals and sacrifices, your people's myths and legends. He just thinks it's all a big waste of time and energy, and more importantly, a severe waste of a pretty little maiden like you, especially for a selfish, cruel being that may or may not even exist.

He, frankly, hates your god, and he hates everything about this situation.

Yet, despite all that, he just cannot help but keep watching you, always watching you, as you smile and dance for your deity, and lead rituals as the sacrificial maiden, serving milk and honey and flowers to the altar at the top of the ziggurat.

He unfailingly continues to spy on you, as they begin to give you increased doses of alcohol and herbs with your meals as the day of your final ritual draws closer, and his stomach churns terribly and heart thumps heavily beneath his plates of armor, and his clammy hands tremor as he beholds your tragic fate time and again.

It's during one of these moments, when you're left unattended, slightly buzzed after your meal, that he finally approaches you to introduce himself. You smile at him graciously, your hazy eyes taking in his large form as you listen to him anxiously speak in a mix of his and your languages. You seemingly understand him, at least enough to get his name, and he just about falls to his knees when you sweetly address him for the very first time. He understands that your drugged mind probably made your reaction to meeting someone like him this mellow... because as generous as your people were for hosting his squadron of mercenaries, they certainly felt some level of aversion and intimidation at his sheer size and demeanor.

You speak in mostly your tongue, and the times you say something in his, it's very accented and sometimes grammatically broken (and he thinks it's so very adorable), and he nods and hums even though he doesn't really understand nearly as much of it as he desperately wanted to.

By the time one of your attendants returns, you send him off with a dreamy smile and a small pouch of dried flower petals and carved beads, something he does clearly understand as--"a protective charm, for your journey ahead." He runs a thumb over the woven fabric more times than he can count, as he fights off the waves of distress that resurge whenever he thinks of his return to his fatherland.

No, he cannot do it... not without saving you first.

It's fine. If your own people didn't want to keep a sweet young woman like you around, and would instead happily have you sacrifice yourself to your despicable god, by throwing yourself into a damned volcano no less, then he would happily keep you to himself, safe and sound and alive, if not a bit confused, perhaps.

So when it's the day of your sacrifice, it's also conveniently time for his squad to move on. And when you reach the bottom of the great sacred mountain, and turn to bid farewell to your small procession of guides and priests and attendants, your drug-addled mind doesn't really register the large black shadow that emerges, quiet as a jaguar, slaughtering everyone on sight, as effortlessly as one cuts away blades of grass with a scythe.

And in no time, you are in his arms, confused and blabbering as he carries you away, far, far away, from vile rituals and deadly sacrifices and people who clearly don't deserve you. You'll be happy with him, as his sweet little darling wife and the mother of his children.

Ah, but first, he really needs to teach you his native tongue. He hopes you keep that cute accent, though.

[ragingbookdragon]

Considering making a new MC for the Top Gun Universe, who’s a Commander and goes by the call-sign “MOP.” And for the life of the team, they cannot figure out what the hell “MOP” stands for. Hangman said it stood for, “Maiden on Probation,” while Rooster said it stood for “Mothering Outside Position,” (because she does act like a mother hen sometimes).

Eventually they get her to tell them what it means when she’s humming a rock song and Bob’s head snaps up and goes, “Oh my God, it’s ‘Master of Puppets.’” And everyone effectively loses their shit, now trying to figure out if she’s like a massive Metallica fan or did ventriloquy on the side.

She simply says, “Oh, I have an exceptionally clever way of finding information about all my superiors I’m not supposed to know, and then I blackmail my way into whatever I want. How the hell do you think I made O5 without cumulative commissioned service?”

And now everyone is generally afraid of their Commander because as kind as she is, she’s incredibly ruthless and runs a top dog squadron of pilots that have a reputation over the entire Naval Fleet for being cold blooded themselves and never disobeying an order from her—like they’re her puppets to be pulled on their strings at her whims.

Rooster and everyone else is terrified of her.

Phoenix respects the flex in womanhood.

Hangman finds it hot.

[ltwilliammowett]

The capture of U.S.S. President off New York, 14th January 1815 by John Benthyam-Dinsdale

On this day;- 15th January 1815 the 44 gun frigate USS President was captured.

She was a wooden-hulled, three-masted heavy frigate of the United States Navy, nominally rated at 44 guns; she was launched on 10th April 1800 from a shipyard in New York City and started her maiden voyage on 5th August 1800.

Her first duties with the newly formed United States Navy were to provide protection for American merchant shipping during the Quasi War with France and to engage in a punitive expedition against the Barbary pirates in the First Barbary War.

thOn 16 May 1811, President was at the center of the Little Belt affair; her crew mistakenly identified HMS Little Belt as HMS Guerriere, which had impressed an American seaman. The ships exchanged cannon fire for several minutes. Subsequent U.S. and Royal Navy investigations placed responsibility for the attack on each other without a resolution. The incident contributed to tensions between the U.S. and Great Britain that led to the War of 1812.

During the war, President made several extended cruises, patrolling as far away as the English Channel and Norway; she captured the armed schooner HMS Highflyer and numerous merchant ships.

In December 1814 Commodore Stephen Decatur assumed command of President, planning a cruise to the West Indies to prey on British shipping.

Commodore Hayes, commanding His Britannic Majesty's frigates Endymion, Pomone and Tenedos, carrying his flag in the Majestic, was on blockade duty off New York in early January 1815. Blown off station by a violent snow-storm on the 14th, he guessed that Commodore Decatur would seize this opportunity to get his USS President out to sea, and further correctly guessed Decatur's likely course. Consequently, at daylight on the 15th, President appeared "as if by rendezvous". some five miles ahead of the British squadron. The chase was on. The day began with strong winds but these eased progressively until by the afternoon there was so little wind that all ships were carrying every stitch of canvas.

Following crushing defeats in single-ship frigate actions earlier in the war, the Royal Navy had realised that its standard frigate classes were no match for American heavy frigates such as President, whcih was some fifty percent larger, stronger and more heavily armed. But by 1815 the British had formulated responses to this threat, and Hayes' squadron was a perfect example. His flagship Majestic was a "razee", a cut-down 74-gun battleship, and more than a match for the President if it could only catch it. Endymion...was the nearest equivalent the British had to President, a heavy frigate not far short of the American's size and weight of fire. The squadron had two other frigates as well.

Most importantly on this day, Endymion had the speed to catch the American...Endymion surged on ahead and after a chase of seven hours gradually began to overhaul President despite every resource Decatur employed to escape. The two ships were firing steadily at each other from 2 pm onwards. The winter sunset was at 4.45 pm; still they fought on at close range. Around 8 pm aboard Endymion it seemed that President had ceased fire and they even believed that Decatur had surrendered; but the American dismantling shot had wrecked Endymion's sails and she had no boats left to take the surrender, so she stood off to bend six new sails...before resuming the chase. By now the rest of the British squadron had caught up, and at 11.40 pm it was HMS Tenedos that finally took the American flagship's surrender.

The captured USS President escorted by HMS Endymion arriving at Spithead on 28 March. President was commissioned into the Royal Navy under the name HMS President. Her initial rating was set at 50 guns, although she was at this stage armed with 60 cannons—thirty 24-pounders on the upper deck, twenty-eight 42-pounder carronades on the spar deck, plus two more 24-pounder guns on the forecastle. In February 1817 she was again re-rated, this time to 60 guns..

In March 1818 she was considered for refitting. A drydock inspection revealed that the majority of her timber was defective or rotten and she was broken up at Portsmouth in June.

[flagellant]

aiiiaaa i hate being a magical giiirl...!! i'm defeating the army of the New Moon Marquessa with the combined infatuation of all pure-hearted maidens everywhere and i just heard someone say "Pretty Cutesy Petal Power: Hope Is Everlasting kyaaaa!!!~" and an entire squadron of Black Opal Knightfalls began to glow cherenkov pink as their metal armor twisted into a beautiful grove of peach blossom trees. the camera didn't even pan over to them, you just heard the sound of their agonizing death screams as their souls dematerialized into sparkles. my princess armament is a feather duster. i have got to fucking kill my magical familiar monkey and get the hell out of here!!!!!!!!!! nya!

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SHREK THE THIRD *  assorted dialogue from the 2007 film, adjust as necessary

let's just say some things are better left unsaid.

if there's something you want to do, or someone you really want to be, then the only one standing in your way... is you.

well, my stomach's aching and my palms just got sweaty. must be a high school.

it wouldn't be inaccurate to assume that i couldn't exactly not say that it is or isn't almost partially incorrect.

so you do know where he is!

all right people, let's do this thing!

i thought we agreed we'd go by the name "team super cool."

from henceforth, we're all to be known as "team alpha super awesome cool dynamite wolf squadron."

right! assume the position!

what are you doing?

i can't believe i'm going to be a father.

how did this happen?

allow me to explain.

when a man falls in love with a woman, he is overcome with powerful urges...

how can you be a receiver of the wedgies when you are clearly not a wearer of the underpants?

somebody help! i've been kidnapped by a monster who's trying to relate to me!

greetings, cosmic children of the universe. welcome to my serenity circle.

please leave all bad vibes outside the healing vortex.

i knew i should have got that warranty.

i'm sorry, but this isn't working for me.

it's not like your attitude is helping.

let go of your petty complaints and let's work together.

someone had better be dying.

if he were real, could i do this?

that's quite enough, boys!

look out! they got a piano!

you really need to get yourself a pair of pants.

some people just don't understand boundaries.

it's just so hard, you know?

come on, take it easy!

there's a mean person doing mean things to good people.

i'll go and get my things.

we realy need your help.

sorry, i don't do that stuff anymore.

how about a hug? that's the best kind of magic there is.

jealous much?

where's the baby?

you just need to do a little less yelling and use more soap.

the soap is because you stink. really bad.

i will never forget you. you are the love of my life.

that's easy for you to say!

it's not easy to come by honest work when the whole world is against you.

those are some nice leotards though.

do they have those in men's sizes?

all right, don't overdo it.

break a leg. on second thought, let me break it for you.

i haven't had a trip that bad since college.

please don't eat me.

i've always wanted to play the flute.

i'd rather get the black plague and lock myself in an iron maiden than go out with him.

try to be reasonable.

i don't know you, but i'd like to.

can i interest anyone in a snack or beverage?

that information is on a need to know basis.

what do you want, [name]?

i love you too, honey!

you're going to be a father.

from here on out, we're gonna take care of business ourselves.

this isn't a rehearsal.

i know i made many mistakes with you.

won't you please open mine first?

can you please just try to grin and bear it?

i got you the biggest one because i love you the most.

now you'll have plenty time to work on your marriage.

excuse me. old lady coming through.

just stay out of this!

oh, this place is filthy.

everybody stay calm. we're all gonna die!

[chimerathingcock]

i played maid with friends again!

Summary below:

Maid RPG - 2025/04/05:

After some rolling we ended up with a cast of…

Dias Tirés Rebolt - 32 year old sickly loli, allegedly a maid for bridal training, is a delinquent and has tattoos (@mimeo-tan)

Elise Dawnsoul - Chuuni 16 year old, became a contract killer and later a maid because of her parent's gambling debts (@maiden-of-blades)

Dostoevsky - Alien shapeshifter, blue skin, maid because ??? (@nimbasa-c0re)

Dahlia Deathsin - (1X +-3) years old Illegitimate catgirl half sister of the master, has burns and a missing eye from various assassination attempts (@yukification) and…

Prince Deparr Deathsin - 1X year old 2nd legitimate child of the evil emperor seeking to conquer the world in the name of the Evil Organization. Also, a bishounen and otaku (this is why his servants are maids instead of respectable henchwomen…) (Me!!!!!)

(content warnings you'd expect from this case (incest, age gap) but nothing too severe I don't think. Ended up at TV ecchi anime levels and not like, hentai OVA. This time.)

and then we started the game!

On a normal day, Deparr would be plotting to finally DESTROY Masked Squadron Galaxy Five, his father's greatest enemies and only real threat to destroying the world!

…but for the next week or so, they're all on some kind of "summer vacation" and off fighting his sister instead. She's getting a whole movie with a higher effects budget and everything.

So instead Prince Deathsin is inclined to spend all day moping in bed, and it's up to his loyal servants to get his spirits up. Or not. Who knows.

Before anything, we see where the four maids were at around 7:30 AM:

Dias was trying to get a normal cup of orange juice (no alchohol! for sure!) from the bar

Elise was in the dining area cleaning, like some sort of actual maid. Even if her thoughts were occasionally about various anime heroines instead.

Dostoevsky was sweeping the balcony overlooking the pool, pushing dust onto...

Dahlia, who was slacking by the pool. As she tends to do.

And then at 8 AM all of them heard the chime, and knew it was time for the master to be roused from bed. Not that all of them cared. Still, Dostoevsky attempted to wake up Deathsin, but failed. He was awake, but only glared at her. Why get up at all?

Elise tried next, and managed to actually encourage him awake. This pep talk was surprisingly successful, and he did get out of bed and get dressed (in sweat pants and a tee-shirt, but he's bishounen enough that it worked. Collarbone showing and everything, very lewd.)

At the same time, Dahlia sees a black blur run past the pool and into the mansion, and follows it to the bar, where Dias sees the same black blur as it lands on the counter as a cat! Before the cat can start knocking bottles off the bar, Dias and Dahlia manage to catch it, and despite it's protests Dias keeps a hold of it, naming him 'Redien Diabolíc VII'

Soon after Dostoevsky and Elise also enter the kitchen, and everyone except Dias helps make pancakes and coffee for their master after he finishes his morning work.

Cooking goes well, everyone is introduced to the cat - which to Elise's surprise is not a pet of the master, but some kind of stray? Or perhaps a spy (according to Dahlia) - and the master's mood improved slightly.

Unfortunately, at that moment a heat wave hits, and suddenly work is much harder…

Because of the heat, Dias ends up bringing Prince Deathsin to the cooler with Redien, and they spend some time there together. Meanwhile, Elise attempts to work through the heat, and Dostoevsky literally melts next to the pool. Dahlia's also there, slacking off once again.

Eventually, Deathsin decides it's time to swim, and has Dias (who's only following him because the cat seems to like him, but he doesn't know that) pick out his swimsuit. She picks something very modest, but his pure bishie energy makes this too work. Dias changes to a one-piece maid swimsuit as well, and Elise independantly decides she'll go for a swim too (changing into a maid bikini).

As Deathsin, Dias and Elise arrive to the pool, Dahlia dives underwater to hide and Dostoevsky stands at attention before going to change as well. While Elise waits for Dahlia to run out of water and come up, Prince Deathsin jumps in…

And slams right into Dahlia as she comes up for air, grabbing at her as he tries not to drown. In response, she chews him out and tosses him out of the pool. Ouch.

(Meanwhile, Dias is swimming normally, and Redien is stuck on a waveboard trying not to fall in.)

Right at that moment, Dostoevsky returns in her "swimsuit" - basically just a maid themed set of pasties - and barrels through everyone, knocking Deparr back in, bringing Elise with her, and knocking Dias out in the pool.

(Redien escapes, to parts unknown…)

But before anyone can react to that - and most importantly, before Dahlia can yell at her too - a red dot appears on Prince Deathsin's head. Dahlia recognizes this as a laser sight and throws her half brother out of the pool again, this time pulling him away before the sniper can take the shot

Then, as they run, the shot is fired and explodes, damaging everyone's clothing

Dias has a hole torn in the back of her swimsuit, Elise's bikini threatens to burst as it's generally disheveled, Dostoevsky loses one (1) pasty, and Dahlia manages to block Prince Deathsin from harm in a way that tears open the front of her (still soaking wet) uniform

(Deathsin is unharmed, but the blast manages to destroy his swimsuit in a way that reduces it perfectly to a pair of swim briefs)

And then Dahlia pulls Deathsin with her into the pool shed, and - having somehow gone from flat to extremely busty the moment her top was opened - fails to have a conversation without him looking away

Annoyed and trying to convince him there's literally nothing weird about it - they're siblings, evil jesus christ, don't be gross - puts his hand on her boob

Aaaaaand successfully rolls to seduce him. Yay!

Cutting away from that, Elise successfully shoots the sniper - sent by the [Country Name] government to try and kill an evil organization executive while the heroes were away - while Dostoevsky cleans up the mess. Dias, for her part (and having returned to her normal uniform), stumbles on the shed and opens the door...

To see Dahlia on top of Deparr, close enough that his face is basically fully in her boobs while she lectures him. He's far too embarassed to do anything but blush at this point.

Dias gestures wildly to try and explain how indecent this is/how surprising it is that Dahlia suddenly has boobs, and eventually Dahlia gets up and goes to get changed. Prince Deathsin follows suit, while Elise does the same with her own ruined bikini.

Dostoevsky does not change, and instead goes straight to the kitchen to make a late lunch (scary anime cooking purple slop soup) while still basically naked (but only one blue nipple is exposed, so does it really count…?)

At the same time, Dias tries and fails to make a sandwich, and ends up tearing her own uniform and covered in suggestive white fluid (mayonnaise)

Right after that, Dostoevsky has her try the scary soup - offered like this:

And the others all walk in to see...

Her legitimately ahegao from just how good it was, while Dostoyevsky drops to the floor in disappointment - that's fine, but she expected more!

Then the others - reluctantly - all try in turn, and have similar reactions

Elise also food-wars-style orgasms from it, and only stops her clothes from exploding by sheer force of will (but another failure...)

Dahlia tries it - just to make sure it's not poisoned - and is soo affected she leaves a puddle on the ground (the first successful soup seduction!!!)

And Deathsin tries it and is so overcome with emotion he kisses Dostoevsky - before Dias throws a tantrum to bring him back to decency (close, but no seduction this time)

Then Dostoevsky tries her own soup and. Eh. It's fine.

After that, everyone awkardly finishes the pot of soup together, and the rest of the day (cleaning, Deparr working, and dinner) proceed relatively normally (i.e. were skipped)

Until! Bathtime…

Normally Deparr, y'know, bathes alone - he's not that much of a pervert, to ask his servants to join him - although he does get assistance undressing

(Dahlia, for some reason, insists on being the one to do it this time) While he attempts to relax (with Radien joining him, for some reason? But that's fine, it's just a cat ^_^) Dias bursts in and innocently argues with him to wash her back

Eventually he agrees, and something about her is almost seductive… Until Dostoevsky bursts through the (already bursted through and now closed) door! (censored only by steam and Radien blocking the camera)

(Dahlia is also watching (as she has in the past before trying to kill Deparr - which is ofc normal) and getting annoyingly distracted by him being handsome, and Elise is peeping at the door for fun (as one does))

Anyway, Dahlia also joins in preventing Dias's seduction attempt - which she's now going all out and spending favor on - and ends up flipping the Prince over again...

And hurts him enough to cause a stress explosion!

His is "Spoiled Child", so he starts whining at her about how mean she is and the two end up wrestling. Dahlia trounces him (using her maid power "Ultimate Retort"), and ends up spanking him in front of everyone! Damn.

This is so distracting that Dahlia is the only one who notices as Radien jumps into the hot bath water, and in his place rises… Another catgirl! Covered in a bodysuit, and wielding a sword!!

She introduces herself as Katarina Purrsuant, and rants about how she's spent all day waiting to kill Deparr as revenge for the Evil Organization's conquest of her home - helped by collaborators, one of whom ended up being Dahlia's mother - and swings for the Prince!

…But Dahlia easily defends him and Elise (with her maid power "Coercion") strips her, tearing her top open!

Dostoevsky tries to land a flying kick (with Dahlia's help) as a finishing blow, but Dias stops them, causing both Dahlia and Dostoevsky to slip while she hugs Kataraina - or rather, Radien, who's still her new cat even if he's a human girl now for some reason.

Katarina tries to escape, but Dias keeps her bound as everyone else grabs at her. In the tussle she accidentally activates the showers on the side of the large bath and (following Ranma rules) becomes a cat again. At this point she gives up, and lets Dias cuddle her.

The enemy is defeated, Deparr is shaken out of his stress explosion, and it's time for everyone to wrap up for the night…

(Oh, and also while Dahlia gropes Deparr and Dostoevsky under the guise of cleaning she almost gets seduced by Elise by way of a single butt tap, but doesn't quite)

Epilogue scenes:

Dias cuddles with Radien - sometimes in catgirl form, sometimes in cat form - who's given up on resisting. By the time she goes to bed (still hugging the cat) Radien's been collared and is compeltely defeated

Dahlia crosses out all her seduction plans to get into power within the Deathsin family and writes up a new one - Seduction… (she also fantasizes about Dostoevsky some)

And finally, the winners of the favor race get the final scene…

Dostoevsky reacts as her UFO lands, and she holds out her hand to Elise offering her a ride…

(once again like this:)

…before Prince Deathsin says that Elise can't go, because he need ss someone to be an actual maid around here

(Also, the evil organization is probably(?) from space, so it's not like she can't just go later)

Dostoevsky calls off the UFO, Deathsin pays off Elise's family's gambling debts

(vaguely promoting gambling so it's still evil!! he'll even throw a pachinko monster at the heroes when they come back)

and the night finally ends…

-FIN-

[bliss-wily]

[universe2snumber1fan]

I completely forgot it was MerMay! Have the Mer-Maidens my treat!

[bonewaryreblogs]

I know it's very soon after my last post, but I think I've mostly got a working timeline

There are more specifics I could get into, but I tried to limit the info in this particular timeline to what's super important and identifiable. Like, I have a whole other post I could make about the Justice Society of America and how it led to the creation of the Justice League, or how Amity Park was founded and by whom, but trying to put it all here would be too cumbersome.

My main sources for general info is whatever I can find on the DC Fandom Wiki, as well as my experiences watching various DCAU media growing up and my favorite Batman show, The Batman from 2004 (good god, I didn't realize it was that old). I tried to fit Young Justice in here too, but it actually conflicts with the first two timelines more than I thought it would, so I might just use it for story ideas for after Danny gets adopted. The Wayne Family Adventures webtoon mostly just supplied the template for how I want them to end up by the time Danny enters the picture, leaving the "how did we get here" up to me, which this timeline hopes to solve.

Also, I couldn't find a good source for it, but supposedly Danny Phantom might have taken place in 2014? Which would've been the future for when it came out in 2004. I considered going with that, but ultimately I decided that DP happens in 2004, taking Danny about a year to establish himself before he gets adopted by 2005.

A big part of why I made this timeline in the first place was to make sure I know how old everyone is when things happen, which is why I put their ages everywhere.

1920s - Martha Clark and Jonathan Kent are born sometime in this decade.

1939 - Alfred Pennyworth is born.

1940 - James “Jim” Corrigan (30) “died” and became the Spectre with Aztar, the Vengeance of God. The Justice Society of America is formed, though they are sometimes called the All-Star Squadron when working with those not formally inducted as members of the JSA (including those with and without superpowers).

1952 - The Kents (~30s) are told they cannot have children biologically. Shortly thereafter, they find the Kryptonian baby Kal-El, rename him Clark Kent after Martha’s maiden name, and adopt him as their own son.

1957 - Alfred (18) joins the British military.

1960 - Bruce Wayne is born. Vlad Masters is born.

1961 - Jack Fenton is born. (Google says his birthday is October 2, 1971, but that would make him like 10 when the Ghost Portal Prototype fails, so I’m just gonna set it back an extra decade lol)

1963 - Madeline Elliot is born. (Google says her birthday is March 16, 1973, so same deal as Jack)

1964 - After many misadventures in England, Alfred (25) takes over as the Wayne Family’s butler from his late father. (Bruce 4)

1968 - 8 year old Bruce’s parents are killed. (Alfred 29)

1970 - After 2 years of flailing, Bruce (10) decides to travel the world and learn martial arts, among other things.

1971 - Barbra Gordon is born.

1974 - Dick Greyson is born.

1977 - Jason Todd is born. Superman (25) debuts in Metropolis, inspiring Bruce (17) to change his plans to become a superhero rather than a crime boss. Obviously there were other superheroes around at this time, but none gripped Bruce like Superman did. He will never, ever admit this.

1978 - Superman (26) is quickly inducted into the Justice Society of America.

1980 - Stephanie Brown is born. Cassandra Cain is born. Bruce (20) returns to Gotham and starts his career as Batman. He begins cutting through red tape to regain control of Wayne Enterprises. Meanwhile, Vlad (20), Jack (19), and Maddie (17) are all at the University of Wisconsin and build the prototype Ghost Portal, which fails catastrophically, causing several important chain reactions; Vlad is blasted with Lazarus Water, the Ghost Zone comes into existence, Vlad falls ill, Amity Park’s Lazarus Pit dries up, Pariah enters the Ghost Zone and declares himself Ghost King, etc.

1981 - Tim Drake is born. Disenchanted with the JSA, Superman (29) starts figuring out how to create his own, international superhero team.

1982 - Bruce (22) adopts Dick Greyson (8) after his parents die publicly.

1983 - Vlad (23) discovers he has “ghost powers” and starts figuring out how to use them. Dick (9) discovers Bruce’s (23) secret and Bruce begins training him.

1984 - Bruce (24) finally lets Dick (10) join him on the streets as Robin. Batman and Superman (32) meet for the first time (which plays out similar to how they meet in “The Batman”).

1985 - Bruce takes over Wayne Enterprises just in time for his 25th birthday. With the company secured, Bruce no longer has to prove himself as responsible and plays up his image as a playboy philanthropist to throw off rumors that ditzy but well-meaning Brucie Wayne couldn’t possibly be the dark and brooding Batman.

1986 - Superman (34) approaches Bruce (26) with his plan for the Justice League, hoping Wayne Enterprise would agree to be the “secret” benefactor. Bruce says he’ll think about it. Barbra Gordon (15) takes the name Batgirl for the first time. (Alfred 47, Bruce 26, Dick 12)

1988 - Jasmine Fenton is born. Cass (8) kills someone for the first time, is horrified, and runs away from her assassin father.

1989 - Duke Thomas is born.

1990 - Daniel Fenton is born.

1991 - Jason Todd (14) tries to steal the Batmobile’s tires after his father is sentenced to prison time, putting him on Batman’s radar. (Alfred 52, Bruce 31, Dick 17, Barbra 20)

1992 - Dick (18) decides to strike out on his own as Nightwing. Jason Todd (15) catches the eye of Talia Al Ghul. Shortly after, Jason’s (step-)mom dies of a drug overdose while his father is still in prison so Bruce adopts him, making Jason the second Robin.

1993 - With Nightwing (19) established and able to take over many of Batman’s (33) responsibilities in Gotham, Bruce asks Clark Kent (41) if he’s still interested in his Justice League idea, which he’s now had 7 more years to refine. Global threats had become more common (which threatened Gotham vicariously and he wasn’t confidant he could take them on by himself) and the JSA had become too entangled with the USA government for anyone’s liking. Now was prime pickings for upcoming talent that had grown up with the idea of superheroes as a necessary force in the world that could see the limitations of government funded (and therefore government controlled) superhero teams.

1994 - Stephanie Brown (14) became Spoiler to “spoil” her father’s criminal career as Cluemaster. After his capture and imprisonment, Bruce (34) “convinced” Spoiler to “retire”, though Barbra (23) kept in contact, as did Dick (21) and Jason (17) to a lesser extent. Steph continued to train on her own, planning to rejoin the hero scene when she was a bit older. The Justice League debuts, led by Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman, along with half a dozen other members, though their ranks would quickly expand.

1995 - Jason dies at 18, after being Robin for 3 years. Talia Al Ghul seduces the grieving Bruce (35) to get Jason’s body, accidentally-on-purpose getting pregnant along the way. Jason had unfortunately been dead for a few months by then; however, he was too angry and stubborn for his spirit to move on, despite the lack of magic/ecto to turn him into a ghost, so it clung to his body as the only tether to the living plane, which allowed him to be revived via Lazarus Pit. He still came back pretty zombified, though, so Talia used magic to help restore the connection between his spirit and his body, and had him train with the League of Assassins to keep him sharp. Part of Bruce’s grief spiral was to throw himself into Justice League work. (Alfred 56, Dick 21, Barbra 24)

1996 - Bruce (36) is spiraling from his loss when Tim Drake (15) basically forces himself onto Batman as the third Robin.

1997 - Cassandra Cain (17) arrives in Gotham, trying to keep a low profile but couldn’t help but save Commissioner Gordon from her assassin father, putting her on Batman’s (37) radar. After Barbra (26) is paralyzed and forced to retire as Batgirl, she asked Bruce to offer Cass the title in her stead, taking on the role of “man in the chair” with the name Oracle. Barbra also pressures pretty much everyone to train with Steph (17), since she can’t anymore.

1998 - Jason (21) returns to Gotham as the Red Hood. (Alfred 59, Bruce 38, Dick 24, Barbra 27, Tim 17, Cass 18)

1999 - Cass (19) takes on the name Black Bat, giving the title Batgirl to Steph (19) as she (re)makes her superhero debut.

2000 - Settling into more of an anti-hero role after getting rid of (most of) his hatred for Bruce for not avenging him, Jason (23) has turned his sights on Crime Alley, doing whatever he feels is necessary to make it safer for the families (but especially the kids) that are forced to live there. He unknowingly is fulfilling Bruce’s original plan of becoming a crime boss and dissecting Gotham’s crime problem from the inside out. (Alfred 61, Bruce 40, Dick 26, Barbra 29, Tim 19, Cass 20, Steph 20)

2001 - I’m going to modify his story, but Duke Thomas (12) ends up on Bruce’s radar.

2004 - Danny Fenton (14) has an accident that gives him “ghost powers”. (Vlad 44, Jack 43, Maddie 41, Jazz 16)

2005 - Damian Wayne (10) becomes the fourth Robin, pushing Tim (24) to move out and become Red Robin instead. (Alfred 66, Bruce 45, Dick 31, Barbra 34, Cass 25, Jason 28, Steph 25, Duke 16, Danny 15, Jazz 17)

-

Damian’s first, big, world-ending crisis is barely a month or two after his arrival, when Cris Allen enlists the Batclan to help him fight Pariah Dark and they join Danny Phantom’s resistance.

I haven’t quite decided what will happen next but Batman figures out Danny isn’t fully dead like the rest of the inhabitants of the Ghost Zone and looks into it after Pariah is defeated. From here, I want it to take less than a year for Danny to be in Bruce’s custody. Duke (at 16) is recruited around the same time as Danny (still 15), so both of them begin training together. I’m sure Bruce wouldn’t mind pulling some strings to get Jazz (17) into a college in Gotham, potentially getting her to study under Barbra/Oracle.

[rainwingmarvel7]

Teenage Wasteland/My Ordinary Life - Chapter 4

Tags: @weltsarchives @sikudastoner (lmk if you want to be added)!

Just fyi, this one is crazy long!!! But it’s got plenty of father-son bonding and some serious angst, so enjoy!

Chapter 4 - Make Me Part Of Your Design

      Fenrir followed C-20 and the rest of her squadron through the portal, emerging into a fairground in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, the year 1985. There had been another Variant report, on this point on the Sacred Timeline, and Mobius had sent Fenrir to deal with it, even though C-20 was technically leading the mission, while he helped Loki settle in.

      “Hi!” one of the fair-goers, an attractive woman dressed as a maiden, greeted. “What’s going on? You guys aren’t dressed right.” She chuckled awkwardly, as C-20 and the other hunters ignored her. “I…So…”

    “Oh, sorry,” Fenrir apologized, using magic to change into a prince costume. “Is that better?” The woman gawked at him, while C-20 rolled her eyes.

    One of the Minutemen held up the TemPad on her wrist, scanning the area for the Variant. “Variant detected, Commander,” she reported to C-20. The signal was coming from a blue and yellow-striped tent, a few yards away.

    “Let’s move,” C-20 ordered, and the group started forward across the fairgrounds. She pointed at Fenrir. “And you, change back. We’ve got a mission to focus on, it’s not dress-up time.”

    “You’re just upset I didn’t make you the princess,” Fenrir responded with a smirk. She glared at him. “Alright, fine.” He changed back into his uniform as they walked, easily keeping up with her.

    “Some of us need this, you know,” he heard the woman call after them with a sigh.

      C-20 took the lead as they entered the tent, Fenrir at her heels. It was almost completely dark inside, aside from the lamps and small fires that dotted the room, and Fenrir immediately sensed that something was off.

     “No Nexus energy yet, ma’am,” the Minuteman with the TemPad said.

      “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Fenrir muttered, just as loud music began blaring over the speaker attached to one of the wooden posts holding up the tent.

     “It’s a trap,” C-20 warned. “Watch your backs!”

     Fenrir activated his pruning stick and took a step back, senses alert. “My lords, my ladies, welcome and thank you for joining us, here at the castle,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. The Minutemen stalked around the tent, alert for any possible dangers that might be hiding in the shadows, waiting to pounce. “Please, settle into your seats for a great battle is about to commence. The prize? Our princess. Will evil prevail, or are we holding out for a hero?”

     At that, Holding Out For A Hero promptly started to play, and Fenrir felt a sudden shift from behind him, and turned to see C-20 removing her helmet, a blank look on her face. “C-20?” he asked cautiously, taking a step towards her.

      She ignored him, moving almost mechanically over to one of the other Minutemen, who didn’t notice her approach, and kicked him in the back of the leg, and he fell to his knees with a pained grunt, then she grabbed him by the neck and twisted, breaking it and killing him instantly. Fenrir’s eyes widened in horror.

     One of the other Minutemen turned her head to see what was going on, confusion written on her face. “Commander?” C-20 gave her a look, then turned around and grabbed a jousting pole that was resting on a crate, and approached her menacingly.

      The hunter saw the attack coming, and readied her baton to defend, but C-20 remained unfazed, smacking her in the head with the pole, and then struck her in the chest, and the woman grunted, doubling over. It was then that Fenrir noticed a hooded figure appear behind her, and before he could do anything to stop them, they had stabbed the Minuteman in the back, and she collapsed, dead.

      C-20 exchanged a look with the cloaked figure, whom Fenrir immediately knew was the Variant they were looking for, and he tensed. “Oh, shit.”

      The speaker continued to blare music as C-20 turned her gaze over to the remaining Minutemen, and started towards them.

     Where have all the good men gone

     And where are all the Gods?

    C-20 abandoned her jousting pole and advanced towards the last remaining Minuteman besides Fenrir, who threw a punch at her that she easily blocked. She punched him in the face, then grabbed him by the arm and dragged him in a circle as he tried to resist her, then punched him in the face again.

    Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight…

    “What are you doing?” the Minuteman gasped as C-20 proceeded to press his baton to his throat.

     “Having some fun,” C-20 responded with a wicked smirk, her eyes flashing an unnatural green.

     Isn’t there a white knight

    Upon a fiery steed?

     “Mind if I join in?” Fenrir spoke up, grabbing her from behind and pulling her away from his fellow hunter. She glared at him, and tried to attack him, but he managed to deflect her blows, until she grabbed onto his baton and swung around so that she was behind him, bringing his baton up to his neck like she had with the other Minuteman and pulling, hard, so that Fenrir could barely breathe.

       He struggled against her, trying to free himself, but her grip was surprisingly strong, especially for a human. “You know, if you weren’t trying to kill me, this would all be really hot,” he choked. She pulled harder, grunting with effort, and Fenrir gasped, no longer able to breathe at all as the stick was pressed further against his throat, blocking his airways. He fought against her, thrashing wildly, but she still didn’t let go. Spots began to dance in his vision, and he felt his grip on the baton begin to loosen as he started to lose consciousness. And then suddenly, the pressure on his neck vanished, and he collapsed to the ground, a hand unconsciously going up to his throat as he began choking violently and gasping for air.

     Late at night, I toss and turn

     And dream of what I need.

     He looked behind him to see C-20 now lying unconscious on the ground behind him, and turned to exchange glances with the other Minuteman, who had moved to crouch beside C-20, before their attention was caught by the same hooded figure from before. The Variant.

    I need a hero.

    The Minuteman stood up and turned to face the Variant, clutching his pruning stick tightly.

    I’m holding out for a hero

    Till the end of the night

    He moved to attack them, but he was met with a blade to the chest, and he too, was killed.

    He’s gotta be strong

    And he’s gotta be fast

    And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight

    The Variant leaned down to grab the reset charges off of the dead hunter’s back, then stepped over towards Fenrir and C-20. Fenrir stood up to face them, grabbing his baton from off the ground and getting into a defensive position. “What did you do to her?” he demanded.

     I need a hero

     The Variant didn’t respond, instead going to attack him with their dagger. He dodged out of the way of the first strike, then blocked the second with his baton. He kicked the Variant back, then spun his baton before attacking again, this time aiming for their head, but the Variant grabbed it and flipped him over, so that he hit the ground, landing on his back, baton flying out of his hand.

     I’m holding out for a hero

     ‘Til the morning light

     He grunted at the impact, then quickly rolled back onto his feet, narrowly avoiding being stabbed, and threw a punch at the Variant. They caught his fist and slashed their dagger across his leg, just above his knee, and he gasped in pain as it buckled beneath him, giving the Variant an opportunity to slice him across the face, leaving a long, bloody gash across his cheek.

     Gritting his teeth, Fenrir attacked again, kneeing the Variant sharply in the stomach so that they released him and scrambling to retrieve his pruning stick again.

      He’s gotta be sure and it’s gotta be soon

     And he’s gotta be larger than life

    “Alright, enough play time,” he said, pointing the stick’s glowing orange tip at the Variant threateningly. “You’re going to tell me what you did to C-20, and then you’re going to come with us.”

      The Variant remained silent, standing completely still, and he began to advance. Then they reached out a gloved hand, and Fenrir was sent flying backwards by a powerful burst of magic. He slammed into one of the wooden posts, hard, and slumped down, as everything suddenly went dark.

     I need a hero!

     “Fenrir.” Fenrir was still swimming in blackness when he felt something - or rather, someone - gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey, kid. Come on. Wake up.”

     His eyes fluttered open, and he realized he was laying on the ground of the tent, Mobius and Loki standing over him, both looking concerned. “Looks like you took quite the beating,” Mobius continued, keeping his hand on Fenrir’s shoulder to support him as he sat up. He groaned, every inch of his body aching with pain. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

      “Me too,” Fenrir responded weakly, putting a hand to his head, noticing there was blood trickling down from one ear from hitting the post. “The Variant ambushed us. It-it was a trap.”

     “I know,” Mobius replied. He sighed, glancing down at the ground, as if dreading what he had to say next, before looking back up at Fenrir. “We think the Varaint took C-20.”

    “No,” Fenrir murmured, his heart dropping in his throat.

    “I’m sorry, kid,” Mobius muttered quietly, his tone sympathetic. “Now come on, let’s get you out of here, and we can continue the investigation.”

    Fenrir shook his head. “No, I’m not going anywhere. Not when the Variant has Cee.” He smirked weakly. “Besides, I’m your protege, you guys are stuck with me anyways.”

    Mobius chuckled, while Loki scoffed in amusement. “Alright then, come on, get up,” Mobius said, helping pull Fenrir up to his feet. He winced slightly at the stabbing pain in his leg from the dagger wound, but otherwise, he could stand. “We’ve got work to do.”

     They turned to face the other Minutemen, who were busy looking over the scene. “So he’s taking hostages now?” B-15 asked, staring around at the dead Minutemen.

     “The Variant’s never taken a hostage before,” Mobius remarked.

     “Maybe he’s upping his game,” B-15 suggested.

     “Or he pruned her,” one of the other Minutemen said, and Fenrir bristled.

     “Don’t say that,” he hissed, and Mobius put a hand on his chest to hold him back as the Minuteman shrank back in fear at his sudden outburst. Loki stood off to the side, silently observing his newfound son’s reaction. “She’s still alive. She has to be.”

     “A Loki couldn’t have gotten the jump on C-20,” B-15 agreed.

     “I think you underestimate, actually…” Loki spoke up, moving to stand behind the hunter.

     “Fan out and search for her,” B-15 ordered, pointing to her Minutemen, then looked down at her TemPad. “And hurry up, we’re at three units until red line.”

     “Let’s go,” one of the Minutemen said. “She’s right.”

     “Come on,” Mobius said, walking past Fenrir and his father. Fenrir was about to follow, when his father suddenly spoke up.

     “Wait…” he said, and Fenrir and Mobius both turned to look at him. “If you leave this tent, you’ll end up like them.”

     “What do you see?” Mobius asked, coming back over.

      “I see a scheme,” Loki responded. He looked up at Mobius. “And in that scheme, I see myself.”

      “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Fenrir asked.

      “We have a saying on Asgard,” Loki explained. He leaned down over one of the bodies. “‘Where there are wolf’s ears, wolf’s teeth are near.’ It means to be aware of your surroundings.” He glanced up at Fenrir. “Surely you remember it, Fenrir?”

     He nodded. “I do, and if I remember correctly, they usually said that about you.”

     Loki chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.” He got back up to his feet. “Which is absurd, because my people are, by nature, gullible fools. A trait that I, the God of Mischief, exploited time and time again simply by listening.” He sank down into a crouch again. “My teeth were sharp, but my ears even sharper.”

     “We’re running out of time, Mobius,” B-15 warned.

     “Hold it,” Mobius said, gesturing for her to be silent. “Just give him a chance.”

      “You remind me of them,” Loki remarked. “The Time Variance Authority and the gods of Asgard, one and the same. Drunk with power, blinded to the truth.” He began to walk towards B-15. “Those you underestimate will devour you.” B-15 tilted her head at him. “You underestimate me, just as you underestimate this lesser Loki. Which is why, you walk into one wolf’s mouth after another.”

        B-15’s TemPad beeped. “Two units. He is wasting our time.”

        “Okay. Come on, Loki,” Mobius said, making a twirling motion with his finger to signal Loki to hurry up and get to his point. “Make long story short.”

        “We need to look for C-20,” B-15 insisted and Fenrir nodded.

         “I agree,” he spoke up. “We’re wasting time.”

         “That’s exactly what the Variant wants you to do,” Loki pointed out. “It’s a trap. He’s waiting for you outside this tent.”

         “I don’t care,” Fenrir said. “As long as the Variant has C-20, I won’t rest until I find her.”

          “I’d be cautious if I were you, Fenrir,” Loki warned.

          “You’d do the same thing if it was Mom,” Fenrir argued. Loki went silent for a moment, his eyes searching Fenrir’s for something he couldn’t pinpoint.

         A Minuteman came up behind B-15 as she stared at him. “Should I secure the reset charges?”

        “No,” Loki said quickly, broken from his trance, holding a hand out to stop him. “He wants me. I’m the key to his plan.” Fenrir scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He knows that I’m stronger.”

        “Almost one unit,” B-15 reported, checking her TemPad again.

        “And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA,” Loki continued. “But that’s not what I want. I have a new purpose. I’m a servant of the Sacred Timeline.” He winked at B-15, who regarded him with disgust. “And knowing what I know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant.” He moved to stand behind Mobius. “But I need assurances.”

       “Yeah?” Mobius asked, turning his head towards him without actually looking behind him, hands on his hips.

      “Assurances that I won’t be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done,” Loki said.

      “I think that’s fair,” Fenrir commented. He had only just met his dad again, after years of never seeing him in person, and he didn’t want him to be pruned as soon as this was over.

      “Right…” Mobius muttered.

      Loki leaned forward to whisper, “We’ll need to speak with the Time-Keepers at once. They’re in graver danger than we’ve realized.”

      Fenrir rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh. There it was again. His father was still trying to swindle his way out of eternal servitude to the TVA, and while Fenrir admired it, he knew it wouldn’t work. The TVA wasn’t as blind to his deceptions as Asgard was, and certainly not Mobius either, especially after having Fenrir around for so long, in addition to his extensive study of Loki’s life.

      B-15’s TemPad beeped again, and Loki glanced between her and Fenrir and Mobius, as the man considered Fenrir’s father’s words. “He’s lying,” Mobius said after remaining silent in thought for a moment. “Just playing games.” He turned to face B-15. “There’s no one out there.”

       “Reset the timeline,” B-15 ordered her Minutemen.

       As one of the Minutemen came forward and set the reset charge, Mobius whispered to Loki, “You had me for a second.” He pointed at Loki’s chest. “My ears are sharp too.”

       Mobius started to walk away, back out of the tent, and Fenrir followed closely behind. Loki hesitated for a few moments before he came hurrying after them. You didn’t want to be on a timeline branch when the reset charge was set, or else you would end up pruned with the rest of the branch, as Loki had no doubt realized.

       As soon as they arrived back in the TVA, a Minuteman approached the three men. “Mobius, Fenrir, Judge Renslayer wants to speak with you.”

      “What about my father?” Fenrir asked, gesturing to Loki, who was standing behind him, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

      “I promise to behave myself,” Loki said.

      “Sir,” the Minuteman said, catching his attention. “She wants to see you now.”

       “Okay, okay, we’re coming,” Mobius responded. “Come on, you two. We better not keep Ravonna waiting for too long.”

        Fenrir sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re right.” He followed after Mobius, Loki trudging along behind them, clearly not excited for this meeting. Once they reached Ravonna’s office, Mobius told Loki to wait inside, while they went in, since Ravonna had no interest in seeing him just yet.

       Ravonna was waiting for them when they arrived in her office, standing up from her desk as they entered. Theremin music played softly in the background from the radio on one of the built-in wooden shelves that lined the walls of the room. “Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing towards the sunken couches in the center of the room. Her expression fell from its cool mask to one of concern as she took in Fenrir’s appearance. “Oh my god! What happened to you?!”

       She hurried over to him, putting her hands on his face, twisting his head so she could examine him more closely. “I’m fine, Ravonna, trust me,” Fenrir assured her. “Ow.” He winced as her hand grazed over the cut on his face.

       “You’re most certainly not fine,” she said. She sighed, shaking her head and taking a step back. “You should have gotten medical attention as soon as you got here. You have to stop doing this.”

       “I’m Asgardian, I’ll be fine,” Fenrir waved her off. “I heal fast.”

       “You’re still injured pretty badly, kid,” Mobius pointed out from where he was lounging on a couch.

       Ravonna nodded, glancing from him back to Fenrir. “Exactly. Now sit.” Fenrir obeyed, sitting down next to Mobius on the couch, sinking into the orange fabric with a defeated sigh. Ravonna pointed a finger at Mobius. “And don’t think you’re getting out of this either, Mobius. You should have sent him back as soon as you found him.”

      “He wanted to stay,” Mobius argued, spreading his hands out innocently.

      “He’s still your responsibility!” Ravonna snapped back. She waved a hand towards Fenrir. “Look at him! He’s bleeding out all over the place! He should have already been attended to before he got here.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Honestly, you two can be such a handful.”

       “I take that as a compliment,” Fenrir remarked. Ravonna rolled her eyes, going over to the alcohol shelf behind them.

       “Is it just me, or does this office keep getting better and better?” Mobius asked, trying to make conversation. Ravonna uncorked the lid of a bottle of alcohol, pouring three glasses. “Where’d you get that one, the snow globe?” He pointed at a lone snow globe sitting on one of her display cases filled with artifacts taken from different branches in the timeline, most of them given to her by Mobius. He said they were just friendly gifts, but Fenrir suspected they meant a little more than that. It was obvious that their relationship ran deeper than friendship, even if they never actually acknowledged it. “I love those. I don’t remember bringing back that case.”

       “You’re not the only analyst working for me,” Ravonna pointed out.

       “But, would you say, maybe, I’m your favorite one?” Mobius asked, as Ravonna finished pouring the drinks and made her way back over to the two men. Fenrir rolled his eyes. Their flirting wasn’t discreet at all. “And why do you get to keep all the trophies from my cases in here? You don’t think I’d love having that roller skate there sprucing up my cubicle?”

       “Because I approve the missions,” Ravonna responded.

       “And because you always give them to her anyways,” Fenrir mumbled.

       “Good point,” Mobius agreed with a nod. “Both of you.”

       “Speaking of which,” Ravonna began, stepping over towards them. “Let’s talk about the one you just botched.” Mobius groaned, shifting around in his seat, as Ravonna handed him one of the alcohol-filled glasses. “You might need this for our discussion.” She passed another one to Fenrir. “Same for you too.”

       “I hope it’s a double,” Mobius remarked, raising the glass to his lips.

        “This Variant is…‘Insubordinate, stubborn, unpredictable’,” Ravonna said, reading off of the file in front of her as she sat down on the couch across from them. “Sounds like someone else I know.” She glanced over at Fenrir. “Actually, two someones.”

        “I was just thinking it sounds like someone I know,” Mobius responded. He took another sip of his drink and set the glass down on the wooden bench beneath the couch, which already bore worn rings where un-coastered drinks had rested before.

        “Mobius?” Ravonna spoke up.

        “What?” he asked. “Those rings were already there.”

        “And they’re all from you,” Ravonna said. Amused, Fenrir took a sip of his own drink, the sharp, smoky-sweet flavor dancing on his tongue.

        “Maybe it’s from your other favorite analyst,” Mobius said, reaching across to the table in between the couches to grab a coaster to sit under his drink. “Listen, Ravonna, I’m sorry. I realize that my, you know, methods with this Loki are controversial, but…”

        “Towing a dangerous Variant into the field is controversial,” Ravonna cut him off.

       “Yeah, it didn’t go exactly the way I wanted it to today,” Mobius remarked, voice rising in irritation. “But here’s what we did find out. The Variant likes to stall for time, and eventually, we’ll catch the other one doing the same thing. Because understanding this Loki helps me get closer to the one we’re chasing. Right?”

       “Which is already why- one of the reasons why, we have Fenrir here too,” Ravonna pointed out. Fenrir didn’t miss the fact that she corrected herself. Clearly, he had grown on her since he had first arrived and been saved by Mobius. “Look, I know you have a soft spot for broken things.”

        “I don’t think so,” Mobius objected, shaking his head slightly.

        “Yes, you do,” Ravonna said. “That’s why Fenrir is still here.”

        Fenrir nodded. “It’s true.”

        “But Loki is an evil, lying scourge,” Ravonna continued. “That is the part he plays on the Sacred Timeline.”

        “Well, that’s not entirely true,” Fenrir objected. “Otherwise I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even exist, and neither would my sisters.”

        “Exactly,” Mobius agreed as Fenrir took another sip of his drink. “Maybe he wants to mix it up. Sometimes you get tired of playing the same part. Is that possible? He can change?”

        “Not unless the Time-Keepers decree it,” Ravonna responded, readjusting herself on the couch so that she was leaning against the back of it. “And then, it shall be so.”

        “And how are the old Time-Keepers?” Mobius asked, and Ravonna sighed, glancing over at her desk and the Time-Keeper statues looming behind them, shaking her head, before looking back at Mobius.

       “How do you think?” she demanded.

       Mobius chuckled. “I don’t know. ‘Cause I’ve never met ‘em.” Ravonna ground her jaw, looking irritated. “Thankfully. Although, I shouldn’t say that. That one looks…”

      Ravonna suddenly sat forward, her voice severe as she spoke. “The Time-Keepers are monitoring every aspect of this case. I’ve never seen them more involved.” Mobius dipped his head, thinking. “They want that Variant caught.”

      “So do I,” Mobius said.

      “And this is the last chance you’re gonna get with this Loki,” Ravonna warned, pointing her pen at him, having swapped her drink for it and the files that had previously been sitting on the center table.

     “Great,” Mobius remarked. “That’s all I’m gonna need.” He sighed as Ravonna furiously scribbled something onto the file, then handed both it and the pen over to him, both of them standing up, so Fenrir took it as his cue to stand as well, quickly downing the rest of his drink and slamming it down on the table as he stood up with them.

     “Thank you, R Slayer,” Mobius said, observing her signature on the file. He signed his name on the line above hers, his signature consisted of three large Ms, the handwriting much less elegant than Ravonna’s, which was more loopy and professional.

      Mobius paused for a moment after putting down his signature, studying the blue pen in his hand, which had the words “Franklin D. Roosevelt High School” written on it, along with a wolf head. “I don’t remember this,” he murmured, showing it to Fenrir, who frowned, not recognizing it either. “This must be from that analyst you keep on the side.”

      He handed it back to her as she stared at him with an amused, although somewhat indignant expression. “Stay focused.”

       “Eyes on the road,” Mobius remarked. He started walking to the door, and Fenrir moved to follow him, but Ravonna called out before they could leave. “Mobius?”

      Both men paused and turned to look at her. “I was almost gone,” Mobius said.

      “You really believe in this Variant?” Ravonna asked him.

      “Mmm…” Mobius hummed noncommittally. “Luckily, he believes in himself enough for the both of us. And, hey, if it doesn’t work, I’ll delete him myself.” Fenrir whipped his head around to stare at him, eyes wide in surprise. Mobius pulled open the door, not seeming to notice. “He’s really arrogant.”

       Loki was waiting for them outside, evidently not having anything else to do, and Mobius whistled for him to follow as they kept walking past him. Loki jumped up to his feet, watching them go. “You’re probably wondering what happened on that mission,” he began, flashing a smile, and Fenrir turned to shrug at him as Mobius kept walking, not paying him any attention. Realizing Mobius wasn’t going to stop for him, Loki ran after them, until he managed to catch up. “That was your first lesson in catching a Loki. Expect the expected. Half the fun of being a trickster is knowing everyone knows your a trickster, and then, many of your tricks can come from exploiting the fact that you know that they know…”

        “Okay,” Mobius cut him off. “Just shut up! Please. What happened to the guy I met on the elevator? Who didn’t like to talk. Remember him? Now I’m stuck with this guy who won’t stop yacking away about what makes a Loki tick!”

        “What? Isn’t that precisely why I’m here?” Loki asked.

        “No,” Mobius said with a shake of his head. “I don’t care what makes you tick. Fenrir could have told me that. You’re here to help me catch the superior version of yourself, because even your son can’t do it. That’s it!”

        “Hang on,” Loki objected. “I’m not sure ‘superior’ is actually quite the right word.”

        Mobius stopped in front of a golden elevator, forcing Fenrir and his father to stop as well, and spun around to face Loki, pointing at him. “See? There it is. Right there.” Loki spread his palm out, blinking at him in confusion. “I believed, stupidly, that the insecure need for validation would motivate you to find the killer. Not ‘cause you care about the TVA mission or bein’ a hero, but because you know this Variant is better than you and you can’t take it.” He whispered those last words in an almost sing-songy voice, and if it were Fenrir he was addressing instead of his father, he knew it would have gotten under his skin. Loki, on the other hand, simply stared at the man, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, then gave him an entirely fake, almost pitying, grin.

        “Very nice,” he remarked. He reached forward to readjust Mobius’ tie. “I mean, it is adorable that you think you could possibly manipulate me.” Mobius rolled his head to the side as Loki spoke while adjusting his tie, annoyed. Once he was done, Fenrir’s father stepped back, smiling, arms spread wide. “I’m ten steps ahead of you. I’ve been playing a game of my own all along.” He nodded, affirming his claim.

        “Sure, you have, Dad,” Fenrir muttered, raising a hand to touch the cut on his cheek, where the blood had begun to dry. “I’m sure it’ll work too.”

        “What, charm your way in front of the Time-Keepers, hustle them, and seize control of the TVA?” Mobius asked. “Am I getting warm?” Loki’s mouth parted and ducked his head, and Fenrir knew Mobius had guessed his plan spot on. “A double cross by history’s most reliable liar.” Mobius moved to push a button on the elevator, then started to walk back to where he had been standing in front of Loki before.

        “Okay,” Loki said. “Why are you in there sticking your neck out for me? I mean, it’s obvious that Fenrir is doing it because I’m his father, which is still a shock to me, since I’ve only seen him as a stillborn infant, by the way, but why are you?”

        Mobius came back over to him, pointing at him again. “I’ll give you two options,” he said. “And you can believe whichever one you want. A, because I see a scared little boy, shivering in the cold. And you kinda feel bad for that ice runt. Or B, I just wanna catch this guy, and I’ll tell you whatever I need to tell you.”

       “And if he hadn’t done it, I would have, like you said,” Fenrir added. The elevator dinged, announcing it was ready for them to enter, and Mobius led the way inside, followed by Fenrir and his father.

       “I don’t need your sympathy,” Loki said as soon as they were all standing in the elevator. “Not even from you, Fenrir.”

       “Good, ‘cause I’m running out of it,” Mobius responded. “And if you ask me, Fenrir’s got too much of it.”

      The elevator ride was silent, with Mobius being too frustrated with Loki to talk, and Fenrir not knowing entirely what to say either. He was starting to realize just how badly he had been hurt during the ambush at the fairground, and he knew he really should be checked by a medic. He had been too distracted with C-20’s disappearance and the meeting with Ravonna to care, but he couldn’t ignore his pain for much longer.

     The elevator finally came to a stop, and Loki immediately started talking as soon as the doors slid open once again. “What is this?” he demanded as the three men stepped out of the elevator. “Next step of your manipulation…”

     “This is your final step,” Mobius replied, cutting him off. “Your last chance.”

     “Oh, and what does my desperate last chance require?” Loki asked sarcastically.

     “Work,” Mobius responded simply.

     “Work?” Loki echoed.

     “Yeah, and Fenrir, Ravonna’s right, you need to go see a medic, now,” Mobius ordered.

     “Fine,” Fenrir responded, and Mobius blinked at him, surprised.

     “What, you’re not gonna argue with me?” he asked incredulously. “Insist on staying until we find C-20?”

     “Normally, I would, but I’d rather not bleed out before we find her,” Fenrir replied wryly.

     “Alright, then go get yourself patched up and meet us in the library,” Mobius said. “We’ve got some research to do.”

     After being patched up for the second time that day (the first time having been after the incident in the Time Theater, when C-20 had found him stumbling into the locker room and insisted on helping, which he of course hadn’t objected to), Fenrir went to the library, as Mobius had instructed, to find his father pouring over the Variant’s case files, looking incredibly bored and unimpressed.

     He looked up as Fenrir approached. “Oh good, you’re back,” he remarked. “Now we can endure this torture together, as father and son. Have some proper bonding time.”

     “Where’s Mobius?” Fenrir asked, ignoring his father’s remarks as he took a seat across from his father and picked up one of the file folders.

      “He said he was going to get something to eat,” Loki responded, rolling his eyes. “Left me to do all this by myself. And now...” He gestured to Fenrir. “You’re here. To help, I presume.”

      Fenrir sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.” He opened up the file in his hands, skimming over the details of the case. “Mobius used to make me do this whenever I misbehaved, which was often. I mean, what else was he expecting? I’m your son, after all.” He flipped through the papers enclosed in the file, shaking his head at the memories. “I always hated it.” He glanced up at his father. “Still do.”

      There was silence for a moment, before Loki looked up at him, a question burning in his mind that he had wanted to ask Fenrir since he had revealed himself as his son from another timeline. “What was I like, in your world?”

     Fenrir thought for a moment. “Pretty much exactly how you’re supposed to be on the Sacred Timeline,” he replied.

     “So, I… I still die in your timeline?” Loki asked hesitantly.

     “I didn’t watch it happen myself, but I saw the ship explode, and I’ve seen the videos of your life enough times to know that you do. The TVA found me not long after that.”

     “So, you were just a boy when they took you?” Loki asked, eyes wide.

     “Yep, only ten years old,” he responded. “Apparently, Gullveig was supposed to disappear in the Blip caused by Thanos with my other sisters, but obviously, I survived instead of Gullveig, and my life was spared in the Blip. That’s when the TVA came. I’m lucky Mobius saved me, otherwise I would have been pruned like the rest of my reality.”

     “Hang on, you said you have sisters?” Loki interjected. “As in more than one?”

     Fenrir nodded. “I have two, at least from you and Mom. Idun and Skadi. You already know Idun of course, but Skadi wasn’t born until several years after the Battle of New York, so you wouldn’t know her.”

     Loki sat back in his chair, taking in the information. “Wow, I’m missing out on a lot now, aren’t I? I have another daughter I’ll never get to meet, a woman I’ll never get to see again, and now I’m stuck here doing all this stupid research to catch some lesser Variant of myself for the equally stupid Time Variance Authority.” He left out a huff, looking down at the paper in his hand, then cleared his throat before scanning the contents of the file, as Fenrir went back to looking through the file he was holding. “Oh, my goodness,” he murmured sarcastically. “Don’t tell me the Variant ambushed and killed another team of Minutemen.” He faked a gasp of surprise. “And stole their reset charge as well.” He slammed the paper down on the table with flippant annoyance.

      “Shh,” the woman sitting behind them, hissed, putting a finger to her lips for emphasis.

      Fenrir grinned in amusement, as his father paused for a moment, brow furrowed, before turning around to face the woman and shushing her back. Fenrir chuckled as his father moved back around to face him, rolling his eyes. “This is ridiculous,” Loki murmured. He stood up from his chair and started to walk away, back the way Fenrir had come in.

     “Where are you going?” Fenrir called after him.

     “To get some information,” his father responded, stopping to look at him. “Care to join me?”

     “You don’t have to ask me twice,” Fenrir remarked, setting down the file in his hands and standing up to walk over to his father.

     Loki aimlessly led the way over to the librarian, peering around at the massive library all around them as he went, who didn’t even look up from the screen of her bright orange box-shaped computer as they approached, too concentrated on her work to notice or care. It made sense to Fenrir. He had bothered her enough already, when he had inevitably ended up getting bored with studying and C-20 was busy, and now it seemed it was his father’s turn.

      “Hi,” he greeted casually, slipping a hand into his jacket pocket. The librarian continued typing on her computer, ignoring him. Loki exchanged glances with Fenrir, who shrugged, crossing his arms, waiting for his father to continue as he looked back at the librarian, ducking his head slightly to study her. “Hello?”

     She still didn’t respond. It was then that Loki noticed the old, antique bell sitting on the top counter of her desk. Fenrir smirked. Ah yes, the bell. He was surprised the librarian still had it, considering how many times he had used it to mess with her. Cautiously, Loki rang the bell, as it gave a small, crinkly metallic ding. The librarian stopped her typing and turned to look at him.

      “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice neither cold nor friendly. Her gaze slid over to Fenrir, and she sighed. “Oh, great, it’s you again.”

      He gave her a playful wave. “It’s good to see you again, ma’am.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes, turning to look back at his father.

      “Yes. I’m on some important TVA business,” he informed her. “Follow-up on a field mission. You know how it goes.” He moved forward to lean on the desk, doing his best to look casual, but kind of overdoing it, if you asked Fenrir. “We red lined near the apex, and…Well, it’s never good.” He chuckled softly. He paused for a moment, realizing she wasn’t going to react. “Um, I’d like all files pertaining to the creation of the TVA, please.”

       Oh, that’s what he was doing. “Uh, Dad-” Fenrir started to say, but the librarian interrupted him.

       “Those are classified,” she responded simply.

       Loki thought for a moment. “Okay. I’d like all files pertaining to the beginning of time then,” he tried.

       “Those are classified,” she said again.

       “Okay, the end of time.”

       “Those are classified.”

       “Okay, what files can I have?” Loki demanded, irritated. The librarian gave him a long look before getting up from her desk and motioning for the two men to follow her.

        “This way,” she said as she began leading them through the rows upon rows of shelves. They ended up at a shelf Fenrir was very, very familiar with, having visited it many times before, even when he wasn’t supposed to. The librarian reached in and grabbed a handful of files, passing them to Loki. “Happy reading,” she said, and Fenrir could have sworn he heard some sarcasm in her voice. She turned to point a finger at Fenrir. “And no more mischief in here, young man. If I catch you causing trouble again, I’ll be sure to have you punished.”

       “Yes, of course,” Fenrir replied. “No more mischief from me. You got it.” The librarian glared at him for a moment, not trusting his word at all (which was fair, considering it was a lie), before deciding there was nothing more she could do and turning back around and walking away with a huff.

        He turned back around to look at his father, who was staring down at the label on the top file in the stack that had been given. Fenrir knew what it was before he saw it himself. It was his father’s name. The librarian had given him his own file. Loki sighed, shifting the file around in his hands, looking annoyed.

       “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not,” he remarked as they made their way back to the desk they had been studying at before. “She’s always been like that. A real piece of work, that woman.”

       “You’ve got that right,” his father grumbled, glaring down at the files she had given him. “I’m growing quite tired of the stupidity of everyone here.”

       “You get used to it,” Fenrir assured him with a shrug.

        “I should hope so,” his father remarked. “Otherwise, this place is going to drive me mad.”

       They continued looking through files for what felt like hours. Fenrir was growing incredibly bored with the seemingly endless stack of files, and he was about to give up and go find Mobius, when he noticed something had caught his father’s eye. “What is it?” he asked as his father stared down at the paper. On it, he could see the words “DESTRUCTION OF ASGARD” typed out in large red letters. Loki held up a finger to silence him, reading over the incident file.

        As he read, something in his expression changed. He shifted in his seat, and Fenrir wondered if he was imagining tears in his eyes as his mouth parted slightly as he saw what was on the file. “Dad?” he murmured quietly, but Loki didn’t seem to hear him, his attention caught on something he had read on the file. After studying it for another moment, he set it down, and Fenrir could tell there was an idea forming in his mind.

       “Hold on,” Loki said, scrambling to grab the files in front of him, getting out of his seat. “I think I’ve just realized something. Come with me.”

      He started to lead the way down the hall, then apparently seemed to realize that he had no idea where he was going. He paused, spinning on his heels to face his son. “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to know where Mobius is, would you?”

      “I think I have an idea,” Fenrir replied. “Follow me.”

      As Fenrir had expected, Mobius was in the cafeteria, enjoying yet another salad. Loki hurried out of the elevator as soon as it slid open, over to where Fenrir’s mentor was seated, enjoying his lunch.

      “I found something,” he announced, moving to sit down in the seat across from Mobius, as Fenrir took the seat between them.

      “No,” Mobius objected, holding up a hand to stop Fenrir’s father. “I said, ‘Don’t bother me until you’ve read all the files’.”

      “I have,” Loki responded.

      “He has,” Fenrir agreed with a nod.

      “Every file?” Mobius questioned.

      “Yes,” Loki replied, desperate to explain whatever he had discovered.

      “Pertaining to the Variant?” Mobius continued to ask.

      “The answer isn’t in the files, it’s on the timeline,” Loki explained. Fenrir tilted his head, curious at the point his father was trying to make. Mobius day back, allowing him to continue. “He’s hiding in apocalypses.”

      “Which apocalypse?” Mobius asked, spreading his hands out in question. “Any time in history? There’s, like, a million of ‘em.”

      Loki reached for the files, shuffling around the papers before looking back at Mobius and Fenrir. “Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”

      “Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people,” Mobius responded, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

      “Yes, very sad,” Loki murmured, not sounding all that sad about the event at all. “Anyway, it got me thinking…”

      Mobius stared at him for a moment, as did Fenrir, surprised by his father’s dismissal of Ragnarok, before saying. “Go ahead.”

      Loki paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Nexus events,” he began. “Happen when someone does something they’re not supposed to do, right?”

      “Well, it’s a little more complicated, but, yeah,” Mobius replied.

      “Great,” Loki remarked. “And then that thing they’re not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren’t supposed to happen. And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”

     “Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome,” Mobius said.

     “Exactly,” Loki exclaimed. “So, let’s just say…”

     “Mmm-hmm,” Mobius hummed, as Loki reached forward to grab his bowl of salad. “What are you doing?”

     “…You salad is Asgard in this scenario,” Loki continued.

     “No, it’s not Asgard,” Mobius argued. “That’s my lunch.”

     “It’s a metaphor,” Loki responded. “Just hang in there.”

     “I want my salad,” Mobius complained. Fenrir just sat back with his arms crossed and smirked in amusement.

     “And I could go down to Asgard,” Loki continued, ignoring his protests. “Before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let’s say, push the Hulk off the rainbow bridge.” He sprinkled some salt into Mobius’ salad. “There he goes.”

     “The salt’s Hulk?” Mobius asked.

     “And I could also…” Loki trailed off, grabbing the pepper shaker and holding it up. “Set fire to the palace.”

     “No, just stop,” Mobius protested. “Don’t set fire to the palace.”

     “Okay?” Loki questioned, aggressively shaking both the salt and pepper into Mobius’ salad as he looked on, annoyed. “I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn’t go against the dictates of the timeline because…” He paused, setting the shakers down, and reached for Mobius’ Josta can, only to realize that it was almost entirely empty, and after a moment of looking around, considering, he held up a finger to signal for Mobius and Fenrir to wait, before getting up from his chair to approach the TVA worker seated alone at a table behind them. “Excuse me?”

     “Oh, God!” Mobius murmured, exchanging glances with Fenrir, who shrugged. Loki tapped the man on the shoulder, and as he looked up, Fenrir realized it was Casey.

     “Oh shit,” he muttered, sinking further into his chair. He wasn’t exactly Casey’s favorite person, especially not after all the pranks he had pulled on him. He covered his face with his hand, hoping Casey would be too busy with his father to notice him.

     “You!” Casey exclaimed, glaring at Loki.

     “Nice to see you,” Fenrir’s father responded, not at all bothered by Casey’s tone, too focused on his theory. He grabbed a juice box off the table and gave him on the shoulder as he returned to his seat. “I just need this for a second. Thanks.” He sat down again, holding up the juice box. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur-” He gestured at the juice box. “Will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.” He turned the juice box upside down and let the liquid pour out into the salad.

       “No, don’t do…” Mobius started to protest, then gave up with a sigh.

       “There’s the apocalypse,” Loki said, as the juice continued to spill out into Mobius’ lunch.

       “That’s the apocalypse?” Fenrir’s mentor asked.

       “Ragnarok obliterated the salt,” Loki explained, the last of the juice dribbling out into the bowl. Finished with his demonstration, Loki grinned, proud of himself for his theory. Fenrir had to admit, it did seem pretty convincing. “Ragnarok.” He set down the juice box and gestured to the ruined salad. “There it is.”

        “What am I lookin’ at?” Mobius asked, shaking his head, confused and annoyed at the loss of his lunch.

        “Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor,” Loki admitted. “But you see what I mean. It doesn’t matter. It could be any apocalypse.” He began listing off with his fingers. “It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova.” He held up the salad bowl. “If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction-” He set the bowl down again, and instead picked up both the salt and pepper shakers and began aggressively shaking them once again. “Then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline’s not gonna branch. ‘Cause it gets destroyed.” He stopped shaking and set the shakers down again before continuing on with his point. “Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and he wouldn’t know!”

       “Not mad,” Mobius remarked, nodding thoughtfully.

       “Makes sense to me,” Fenrir mused, nodding as well.

       “Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I’ll show you,” Loki exclaimed.

       Mobius chuckled. “Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”

       “No, I’m not going home,” Loki responded. “We can go anywhere.”

        “I’m not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse,” Mobius said.

         “Oh, Mobius, come on!” Loki complained. “What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”

        “Well, here’s a fun theory,” Mobius said. “You lure me out into the field and then you stab me in the back. And that’s a theory I don’t wanna test.”

        Loki sat back in his chair, spreading his arms out wide and mouth falling open as if he couldn’t believe what Mobius was saying. “I’d never stab anyone in the back,” he protested indignantly, his voice rising. “That’s such a boring form of betrayal.”

        “But it is effective,” Fenrir pointed out.

        “Loki, I’ve studied almost every moment of your life,” Mobius said, ignoring his comment. “You’ve literally stabbed people in the back, like, fifty times.”

        “He does have a point, Dad,” Fenrir remarked, and his father glared at him.

        “Whose side are you on?” he demanded. Fenrir just shrugged. Loki turned back to face Mobius. “Well, I'd never do it again, because it gets old.”

        Mobius chuckled again, wiping his nose with one hand as he did. “Okay,” he said.

        “Okay, look, you don’t trust me, but you can trust one thing,” Loki responded, holding up a finger. “I love to be right.” He grinned.

       Mobius glanced over at Fenrir. “Well, kid, what do you think?”

       “I say we give him a chance,” he replied. “I think he could be right.” Mobius sighed, ducking his head, then nodded.

       “Alright, fine, we’ll test out your little theory,” he yielded.

       “Yes,” Loki cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “You won’t regret this.”

       “I hope not,” Mobius remarked. “It already cost me a perfectly good salad.”

       Pompeii was peaceful. For the moment. People were simply going about their usual day, completely unaware of the danger-the apocalypse-that was about to hit them. A distant rumbling could be heard from Mount Vesuvius, looming ominously above the city, but the people paid it no mind, aside from the occasional glance.

       Fenrir was hidden in a shaded alcove, along with his father and Mobius, out of sight of most of the citizens. Loki glanced excitedly at the mountain and then back at Fenrir and Mobius. “Here we go,” he whispered, grinning.

       “Shh, any minute now,” Mobius shushed him.

       “Until this entire town is wiped off the face of this planet,” Loki added cheerfully. Mobius mimed an explosion with his hands, then stuffed them in his pockets. “Imagine. All that volcanic ash…”

        Mobius nodded. “I know. We don’t want to get too giddy.”

        “Oh, come on!” Loki scoffed. “It’s cool.”

        “No, it is cool,” Mobius said. “But it’s just not in good taste because…”

        “They’re all gonna die anyway,” Loki interrupted indignantly, gesturing towards the oblivious citizens.

        “I know,” Mobius responded. “Now listen, I’m gonna watch the TemPad for any variance energy.”

        “Okay,” Loki replied, and Fenrir murmured in agreement.

        “Okay, because we gotta be careful,” Mobius stressed. “If you’re wrong, and there’s a good chance you are, anything we do can create a huge branch.” He pointed at Fenrir. “That goes for you too.”

        “I know, I know,” Fenrir grumbled, rolling his eyes.

        “Oh, Mobius!” Loki exclaimed. “You make even the end of the world sound boring.”

        “Listen!” Mobius whispered harshly. “Okay, we’re not supposed to be here. Okay?”

        Loki sighed heavily. “Okay.”

        “Anything we do can impact the course of history,” Mobius continued, holding his hands out towards him as he expressed his point. “Do you get that?”

        “Yes,” Loki responded, looking down at his feet. “Yes.”

        “Okay, so we’re gonna start with very small disturbances,” Mobius said.

        “Very small,” Loki agreed, and Fenrir nodded as well.

        “Can you make bird noises?” Mobius asked.

         “Bird noises?” Loki repeated, sounding both confused and unimpressed.

        “Yeah. Bird noises,” Mobius responded. “Like some, like, whooshing noises.” He began to mimic the cooing sound of a bird.

         “Oh,” Loki murmured with a groan, before suddenly turning and running off into the street.

        “Loki!” Mobius exclaimed, trying to call the god of mischief back over to the two men.

         “I can make bird noises,” Fenrir volunteered  half-jokingly. Mobius glanced at him and shook his head before calling out to Loki again.

        “Loki!” Loki ignored him, running over to a cart sitting on the side of the road, loaded with several goats. Loki pulled down the back of the cart, and the goats bleated at him.

       Fenrir watched with amusement as his father climbed the side of the cart. “Go!” his father cheered, yipping at the goats as he ushered them out. “Be free, my horned friends, be free!”

     “Hey, Dad, wait for me!” Fenrir called, stepping out into the street as well.

     “Fenrir!” Mobius warned, and Fenrir turned around to face him with a mischievous grin so similar to his father’s.

     “What? It’s not like any of this matters anyways,” he pointed out, kicking over a fruit stand with one foot so that its contents spilled out onto the street in a bright sprawl of color.

     He looked over as his father started speaking in Latin to the citizens all around him. “My name is Loki,” he said, as a man started chasing after the goats he had freed, trying to catch them again. “We are agents of the Time Variance Authority.” He gestured towards Fenrir and Mobius. Mobius sighed and threw his hands up in defeat. “I bring you all dark tidings.” He gestured around at everyone gathered before him. “All of you! You’re all about to die.” He turned and pointed towards Mount Vesuvius still rumbling behind them all. “That volcano is about to erupt!” He used large gestures as he spoke, smiling widely. “I would know, because I’m from the future.” He looked over at Mobius and Fenrir, who had climbed up onto the other side of the cart with him, and asked in English, “We are from the future, right?” He used his hand to smooth back his hair. “What is the TVA? I mean, it’s from the future. It sounds from the future. It’s pretty future-y.”

       “Technically, it’s outside of time,” Fenrir responded. “But I don’t think that’s something they would understand.”

       “Probably not,” Loki agreed, and as he did, the volcano rumbled, shooting a pillar of dark smoke into the air, and everyone began screaming. “Right on cue!” Fenrir’s father exclaimed, then chuckled to himself as he hopped off the cart and pranced over to a bread stand, picking up the loaves and hurling them at the crowd. “Enjoy your last meal while you can!” He grabbed food from another stand and hurled it into the air, throwing his hands up with a wide smile. “Nothing matters!”

      “Wooo!” Following his father’s lead, Fenrir jumped off the cart as well and twirled his finger, sending the fruit from the stand he had knocked over flying everywhere, not caring who or what they made contact with. “Nothing matters!”

      “Nothing has any consequence!” Loki continued, still grinning. “Dance while you still can! Whoo-hoo!”

      Both men stopped in front of Mobius, who was studying his TemPad closely, as the distant rumbling from the volcano grew louder, and dark, superheated smoke filled with pumice and ash poured down the mountainside towards the fleeing people of Pompeii.

     “How’d we do?” Loki asked him, panting slightly.

     “I don’t believe it,” Mobius remarked, sounding surprised. “Zero variance energy. No branching in the timeline.”

      “The TVA would never even know we were here,” Loki said, as ash and pumice rained down on the city from behind, the dangerous smoke growing closer by the second. “If it were me, this is where I would hide.” He tossed the piece of wood he had been holding into the air, and spread out his arms to gesture all around him, grinning triumphantly at the fact that his theory had been proven correct.

      “Point taken, now let’s get out of here!” Mobius exclaimed, and Fenrir glanced back to see the cloud of volcanic destruction rushing towards them.

      “Oh shit!”

      “Doomsdays,” Mobius said as soon as the elevator doors to the office opened, moving at a brisk pace as Fenrir and his father hurried after him. “The Variant’s been ambushing our soldiers and hiding out in doomsdays to cover his tracks.”

       “You’re welcome,” Loki remarked, smirking and giving Fenrir a wink, pleased with himself.

       “Yeah,” Mobius responded, going over to his desk to retrieve a pile of folders stuffed with files. “For this theory to hold, the disasters have to be naturally-occurring, sudden, no warning, no survivors.”

      “How many could their be?” Loki asked as they started walking again, this time back in the direction of the library.

      “I don’t know,” Mobius replied. “We’re gonna find out.”

     They were in the library for what felt like hours. Fenrir’s father had fallen asleep looking through all the files, exhausted from the events that had previously taken place and the countless hours of research, and Fenrir himself was close to doing the same as he sat flipping through the file in front of him, one arm propped up on the table so he could lean his head against it in his fatigue.

      Mobius yawned, rubbing his face as he studied the file resting on his lap, before looking up at Loki and realizing he was asleep. He leaned over and smacked his arm lightly with the file folder. “Hey?” Loki looked up at him. “Come on, let’s take a walk. Both of you.”

      Loki reached across to the back of Fenrir’s chair to grab his jacket, smacking Fenrir over the head with the fabric, and hurried to join Mobius, Fenrir only a few steps behind him.

     It turns out, by taking a walk, Mobius really meant returning to the cafeteria for another break. It was largely empty, with most people being busy with their work.

     “By the way,” Loki began, addressing Mobius. “At your desk, that magazine?”

     “Yeah,” Mobius remarked. “The one with the jet skis?”

     “Yes,” Loki responded.

     “Oh yeah, the jet ski magazine,” Fenrir said with a grin. “That’s a good one.”

      “Why do you have that?” Loki asked curiously.

      “Because they’re awesome,” Mobius responded, and Fenrir nodded in agreement.

       Loki chuckled. “I suppose they are.”

       “Oh, they definitely are,” Fenrir said. “Those things are totally sick.”

       “Yeah,” Mobius agreed. “You know, some things… Actually, most things in history are kinda dumb, and everything gets ruined eventually. But in the early 1990s, for a brief, shining moment, there was a beautiful union of form and function, which we call the jet ski, and a reasonable man cannot differ.”

     “You ever been on one?” Loki asked.

     “No…” Mobius replied sadly. “No. I think a TVA agent showing up on a jet ski on the Sacred Timeline, that would create a branch for sure.”

     “It’d be fun, though,” Loki said.

     “Yeah, it’d be a hell of a lot of fun,” Fenrir chimed in.

     “Yeah, it’d be really fun,” Mobius agreed wistfully, staring gloomily at a spot on the floor.     

     “So, why read about them?” Loki asked, and Mobius looked back up at him.

       “Just helps remind me of what we’re fighting for,” he responded after a moment.

       “Gotta fight for the jet skis,” Fenrir murmured, picking up the orange coffee cup in front of him and taking a sip.

       “I mean, you really believe in all this stuff, don’t you?” Loki asked, looking all around the room before returning his attention to Mobius.

      “I don’t get hung up on, ‘Believe, not believe’,” Mobius replied. “I just accept what is.”

      “And what about you?” Loki asked Fenrir.

      “It’s what I’ve been taught to believe,” he said. “I’ve never questioned it, never really had to, until you showed up. I just accepted my fate, I guess.” He shrugged and took another nonchalant sip of his coffee.

      Loki stared at them both for a moment. “Three magic lizards…” he began.

      “Time-Keepers,” Mobius corrected him.

      “…created the TVA…” Loki continued.

      “Right,” Mobius agreed.

      “…including you?” Loki asked.

      “Including me,” Mobius agreed.

      “But not me,” Fenrir reminded his father.

      “Right,” Loki remarked with a nod. He turned back to Mobius. “You see, every time I start to admire your intelligence, you say something like that.”

      “Okay, who created you, Loki?” Mobius countered.

      “A Frost Giant of Jotunheim,” Loki responded.

      “And who raised you?” Mobius asked.

      “Odin of Asgard,” Loki replied, starting to get irritated with the line of questioning.

      “Odin,” Mobius repeated. “God of the Heavens. Asgard, mystical realm, beyond the stars. Frost Giants. Listen to yourself…”

      “It’s not the same,” Loki argued. “It’s completely different.”

      “No, no, no, no,” Mobius tried to cut him off.

      “It’s not the same,” Loki pressed.

      “Actually, it’s exactly the same thing,” Mobius said. “Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos.” Loki sat back in his chair, thinking, as Fenrir continued sipping from his coffee, silently watching the exchange. “Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make sense of it. And I’m just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all of this…My own glorious purpose.”

       “While I lost everything in mine,” Fenrir remarked over the rim of his coffee cup. Both men glanced over at him at his comment. “But hey, at least I got this now.” He held up his cup to gesture towards the rest of the TVA. “At least I got this.”

      Loki scoffed. “‘Cause the TVA is my life,” Mobius continued. “It’s our life.” He gestured between Fenrir and himself. “And it’s real because I believe it’s real.”

      “Fair enough,” Loki said, spreading his palms out facing the ground. “You believe it’s real.” He looked over at Fenrir. “And you sort of believe it’s real.”

      “Yeah,” Mobius responded, while Fenrir simply nodded.

      “So everything is written,” Loki reasoned. “Past, present, future.” He used his hand to indicate each one as he spoke. “There’s no such thing as free will.”

       “Well, I mean, you know, it’s an oversimplification…” Mobius started to say.

       “So, in fact,” Loki cut him off. “In a way, you and Fenrir and I here at the TVA, we’re the only ones who are actually free.”

       Mobius tilted his head and gave him a doubtful look. “Where are you going with this, Loki?”

       “How does it all end?” Loki responded simply.

       “That’s a work in progress,” Mobius replied.

       “Oh, those lazy Time-Keepers,” Loki remarked, taking a look at his watch as he spoke. “What are they waiting for?”

      Mobius chuckled. “Au contraire. No. Because while we protect what came before, they’re toiling away in their chamber, untangling the epilogue from its infinite branches.”

      “Ah, I see,” Loki said sarcastically. “So, when they’re finished, what happens then?”

      “So are we,” Mobius responded. “No more nexus events. Just order. And we meet in peace at the end of time.” Loki made a face. “Nice, right?”

      For a moment, Loki said nothing, shaking his head lightly. “Only order?” he asked dubiously.

      “Mmm-hmm,” Mobius hummed, bobbing his head in a slight nod.

      “No chaos?” Loki asked. “It sounds boring.”

      “Where’s the fun without chaos?” Fenrir agreed, and Mobius gave him a look. “What? He has a point! It sounds incredibly boring.”

      “I’m sure it does to you two,” Mobius said.

      “You called me a scared little boy,” Loki said.

      “I called you a lotta things,” Mobius defended.

      “You did,” Loki agreed. “You’re wrong though. You see, I know something children don’t.”

       “What’s that?” Mobius asked.

       “That no one bad is ever truly bad,” Loki replied. “And no one good is ever truly good.”

        Mobius stared at him, considering his words. “Scared little boy,” he murmured after a few seconds, still staring at him.

        “Yes, it was quite patronizing,” Loki remarked. “I thought it was a bit too far, actually.”

        Mobius said nothing for a long moment, continuing to study Fenrir’s father closely, thinking. “You’re very clever,” he said, quickly getting up from his seat. Loki watched him go, then exchanged glances with Fenrir, who was equally confused.

       “I know,” Loki responded, although Mobius was already walking away, in a way that almost sounded like a question. “I guess we should follow him, then?”

       Fenrir nodded, taking one last sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table. “Yeah probably.” He stood up with his father, and the two men hurried after Mobius as he made his way back to the library.

      “The Variant left something behind at an old crime scene,” Mobius explained, leading them over to a row of shelves. “A cathedral. A candy box. An obvious anachronism.” He retrieved a key from his pocket and unlocked one of the dull gray chests lining the shelves, where evidence was kept. “I gave it to Analysis, but they couldn’t find anything real.”

      “Why does that matter?” Loki asked.

      “‘Cause now we have two variables,” Mobius responded, glancing up at him and then back at the chest. “Apocalyptic natural disasters and…” he paused, opening the chest and reaching inside to retrieve a bag of evidence, which contained a blue-striped pack of chewing gum. “Kablooie.”

      “What’s that?” Loki asked.

      “Candy,” Mobius replied as if it was obvious. “Do you have candy on Asgard?”

      “Yeah,” Loki said. “Grapes, nuts.”

      “No wonder you’re so bitter,” Mobius remarked, scooting past him to return to the desk they had been reviewing files at earlier.

       “Okay,” Mobius said, setting down another stack of files on the desk. “Kablooie was only sold regionally on Earth from 2047 to 2051. We need to cross-reference that with every apocalyptic event. I’m gonna give you two half to split. Have a competition, see who finds it.”

       “Sure,” Loki responded.

       “Sounds good to me,” Fenrir agreed.

       “You wanna bet something?” Mobius asked.

       “Yeah,” Loki replied.

       “I’m in,” Fenrir said.

       “Gentlemen’s bet,” Mobius remarked. “Yeah, let’s play for pride. Okay. May the best man win. Go.”

       “Oh, you’re so on,” Fenrir said with a laugh, accepting the files Loki passed to him after he had been handed them by Mobius.

       “Anything?” Mobius asked after they had been searching for a few minutes.

       “Uh…” Loki murmured. “It’s not the climate disaster of 2048. Or the tsunami of 2051.”

        “It’s not the earthquake of 2046 either,” Fenrir added, flipping through the files and scanning each one closely.

        “Let’s go. Let’s go,” Mobius said. “Come on.”

        “2050,” Loki said quietly. He looked through the files set in front of him. “The extinction of the swallow… Is that a thing?”

        “Completely screwed up the ecosystem,” Mobius responded, and Fenrir nodded in agreement.

        “Krakatoa erupted in 2049 as well,” Loki continued. “No Kablooie.”

        “God, it’s just one damn thing after another, isn’t it?” Mobius remarked, growing more and more frustrated. He began sifting through the files furiously, reading off each disaster as he went. “Cyclone, famine, volcanoes, floods…”

        “Got him,” Loki suddenly said, and both Fenrir and Mobius looked up at him, the older man cut off from his annoyed rant. Fenrir’s father turned the file he was holding for Mobius to see, and Fenrir stood up and leaned across the table, craning his neck so he could see as well. “That’s where he is.”

        “Alabama, 2050,” Mobius read off. All three men looked at each other, realizing they really did have a lead. “You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.”

        Loki sat back, pleased with himself, as did Fenrir and Mobius. “Nice one, Dad,” Fenrir said. “But now comes the hard part.” He looked over at Mobius.

        “Convincing Ravonna that this is a good idea,” the older man finished.

        “I’m sure it can’t be that difficult,” Loki reasoned. “I am right after all.”

        The two other men exchanged glances, then Fenrir looked back at his father. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

         “You want me to approve deployment of a fully-armed task force to…”

         “Yeah,” Mobius murmured as Ravonna kept talking.

          “…the Variant’s potential hiding spot?” the judge finished dubiously. Fenrir was standing beside Mobius in her office, where they had gone to immediately after Loki’s discovery in the library, hopeful that the woman would understand their realization.

        “Haven Hills, Alabama,” Mobius responded. “Corporate town owned by Roxxcart until it’s wiped out by a hurricane. All the food and supplies you need. If he likes it, there’s no reason he can’t keep going back and just camping out, over and over.”

       Ravonna stared at him as if what he had said was the most absurd thing she had ever heard. “And this is all based around the theory from the Variant who just blew your previous mission?”

       “Yeah, he’s doing great,” Mobius replied.

       “Mobius, as your friend, I have to tell you that trusting this man is not a good idea,” Ravonna said.

       “No, no. I know,” Mobius responded. “But maybe he’s worth the trouble. I mean, he just uncovered a massive hole in our security. Right?”

       “That’s what concerns me!” Ravonna exclaimed.

       “I can handle him,” Mobius insisted. “Trust me. This is where we get our guy. And if I can’t handle him, I’m sure Fenrir can. He’s his son after all.”

       “You two, I trust,” Ravonna said. “Mostly.” She glanced over at Fenrir at that, then looked back at Mobius. “But him.” She pursed her lips and sat back in her chair, clearly not liking the idea of trusting Fenrir’s father with anything at all.

       “Listen, Ravonna, every instinct is telling me this is where we nail the Variant,” Mobius pressed. Ravonna stared back at him, leaning further back into her chair with a look of concerned displeasure. “Come on. You don’t usually see me this worked up, right?” Fenrir couldn’t help a small snort of amusement that the older adults didn’t seem to hear, too caught up in their argument. “I’m-I’m-I’m excited. I’m chomping at the bit.”

       Ravonna gave Mobius a dubious look, then looked past him, at Fenrir. “And what do you think?”

       “I think he’s right,” Fenrir said. “And not just because this is my father we’re talking about. All the evidence lines up. This has to work.” He paused, swallowing a wave of guilt and fear. “Because if it doesn't, I don’t know if I’ll ever see C-20 again, and I can’t live with that. I have to find her. I have to.” He raised an eyebrow at Ravonna, his usual mischievous swagger returning once again. “And for the good of the TVA, of course.”

       Ravonna stared at the two men a moment longer before begrudgingly giving in. “Okay.”

       “Yes,” Mobius cheered. “Okay.”

       “But Mobius?” Ravonna put in.

       “Yeah?” he asked. He leaned in closer, and she sat up in her chair, pulling herself closer to him as well. If Fenrir hadn’t been there, he wondered if they might have kissed.

       “There’s not much I can do if it doesn’t work out,” she informed him softly.

       “For all time,” Mobius said instead of actually giving a response to her warning.

      “Always,” Ravonna whispered.

      “Okay,” Mobius remarked with a grin as he stood back up and turned to go.

       Fenrir went to follow him, but stopped when Ravonna called his name. “Fenrir.” He turned around to look back at her.

        “Yes, Judge Renslayer?” he asked.

        “Good luck,” she responded, and Fenrir could tell that she was being genuine. “I hope you find C-20. I know how much she means to you. Just try to be safe, alright?”

        Fenrir nodded, offering her a grateful smile. “I will be. Thanks, Ravonna.”

        And with that, he turned back around and left, following after Mobius to where his father was waiting outside. “We’re on,” Mobius announced as soon as they left Ravonna’s office, and Loki quickly got up from his chair, pumping his fist in the air in triumph as they made their way towards where they would meet the rest of their task force. “We are doing some good work today.”

        “I though so too,” Loki said.

        “I’m telling you,” Mobius continued. “You help us catch this Variant, and who knows my friend.” They stopped at Mobius’ locker, and he pulled off his jacket, getting ready for the mission at hand.

        “What, good enough for a face-to-face with the Time-Keepers?” Loki asked.

         “I didn’t say that,” Mobius objected. “One step at a time.”

         “All right,” Loki murmured. “One step at a time.”

         Mobius reached into his locker and pulled out a pair of daggers, handing them over to Loki, who accepted them with a look of mild surprise. “Just in case.” Loki stared at the blades, inspecting them closely. “Yeah, don’t those feel…”

        “Absolutely not,” B-15 remarked as she walked by, grabbing them from Loki’s hands and shoving them into her own locker. “Gather around for a briefing.”

       “Ooo, tough luck, Dad,” Fenrir said quietly, clapping his father on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, she was like that with me when I first got here too. Once she trusts you, maybe you’ll get them back. Maybe.”

      Everyone in the squadron, including Fenrir, Loki, and Mobius, who was now wearing a protective chest-plate and a rain jacket, gathered around the lead hunter as she explained the details of the mission, like she always did. “Roxxcart is a vast superstore common to the era,” she began. “It consists of a series of sprawling sections, including a large warehouse. This warehouse is being used by civilians as a shelter tryin’ to ride out the storm. Remember, this is a class ten apocalypse. While the Variant shouldn’t know we’re coming, he could be hiding anywhere and should be considered hostile. So stay alert. Every time there is an attack, the Variant steals a reset charge. He’s planning something. We just don’t know what. So keep an eye out for the missing charges, and if you see a Loki, prune it.”

       “The bad Loki, preferably,” Fenrir’s father put in with a tight-lipped grin.

       “Alright,” B-15 said. “Let’s move.”

      The squadron emerged in the parking lot of the Roxxcart superstore, weapons ready, approaching as carefully and cautiously as possible through the hurricane that would soon claim the building as its next victim.

     “Anything?” Mobius asked as soon as he had emerged from the portal, Loki and Fenrir at his heels, practically having to yell over the storm.

     “Nothing yet,” B-15 responded. “Move out!”

     Once they stepped into the inside of the superstore, bathed in eerie greenish-white light, Loki stopped and sighed, while Fenrir kept walking, and now outside of the magical restriction inside the TVA, used magic to dry himself off.

      B-15 looked his father up and down. “The hell was that?” she demanded.

      “That was my using magic to dry my clothes,” Loki replied. “So I don’t announce myself with every squeaky footstep like the rest of you.” He glanced over at Fenrir, who had stopped a few feet away, having realized that no one else was following him. “I’m surprised you hadn’t thought to do the same. Can you even do that much magic?”

      “There’s no time to worry about drying off,” Fenrir said sharply. “We have to find C-20 and the Variant.” He started walking again, his shoes squeaking loudly on the linoleum floor, then paused and turned around to add. “And yeah, I can do magic.”

       As he said this, Loki tilted his head at his son from another timeline, and in a flash of green magic, Fenrir was dry. He hung his head with a sigh, then looked back at his father. “You didn’t need to do that,” he said in a low voice.

      Loki shrugged with a grin. “Perhaps not,” he remarked. “But I had a feeling you weren’t going to, and I thought maybe I should start showing some of that ‘fatherly affection’ to my only son.”

      Fenrir rolled his eyes, as thunder rumbled overhead. The lights flickered in response, and everyone glanced up at them, mildly alarmed, before B-15 turned to one of the Minutemen said, “Take both teams and sweep the storm shelter.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” the Minuteman responded, leaving with the rest of the squadron to do as they had been instructed.

      “Loki, Fenrir, and I are gonna check out the Green House,” Mobius said. “We’ll meet back at the…”

      “No,” B-15 interrupted.

      “No?” Mobius echoed, confused.

      “You and Fenrir go with D-90,” she responded. “He stays with me.”

       “What are you talking…” Mobius sputtered. “He’s under my supervision.”

       “This is my field op, Mobius,” B-15 snapped. “If he’s not a threat, then it won’t be a problem…”

       “Of course he’s a threat,” Mobius replied. “Do you not remember the Time Theater?”

       “He does have a point,” Fenrir put in. “He did split my head open in there, and I’m his own son.”

       “Mobius…” Loki muttered.

       “I want him with me,” Mobius insisted.

       “You are welcome to go back to the TVA and litigate with Renslayer,” B-15 responded. “But right now…”

      “We’re here,” Mobius shot back, growing irritated. “We’re not going back. The Variant is here.”

       “Mobius,” Loki interrupted. “It’s fine. It’s fine. You can trust me.”

       The two men stared at each other for a moment, before Mobius remarked, “Why is it the people you can’t trust are always saying, ‘Trust me’?” Loki opened his mouth to say something, but Mobius ignored him, turning back to B-15.

       “Okay, try to hang on to your Time Collar this time,” he said, referring to the incident in the Time Theater.

       “We’ll see you in the showroom,” D-90 said, following Mobius as he walked off.

       Fenrir hesitated, casting one last look at his father. He wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to split up, but he had to trust that his father would be true to his word and behave himself. “Fenrir, come on!” Mobius called impatiently.

      “Coming,” Fenrir responded, tearing his gaze away from his father and hurrying after D-90 and his mentor.

      “Something is wrong,” Fenrir murmured as he followed Mobius and D-90 into the back of the superstore, where civilians were desperately seeking shelter from the storm. “Magic is being used here. I can feel it.”

      “Which means the Variant must be here,” Mobius concluded. “Keep an eye out boys.”

       “For the past hour we have seen winds intensifying,” the frantic voice of a news reporter was saying over a radio someone must have brought. “Again, if you’re just tuning in…”

      Fenrir tuned the rest of what the reporter was sayingout, already knowing the details of the disaster that was about to strike, instead focusing his attention on searching the area for any signs of C-20 or the Variant.

     “Check the bags for the reset charges,” D-90 ordered the other Minutemen.

     “You guys FEMA?” a large, older man wearing an electronic name tag and wearing blue coveralls, suggesting he was an employee of the superstore, asked. “National Guard?”

     “Could be any one of them,” D-90 continued, ignoring the man.

     “Well, hey, if you got a ‘copter or other transport, now is the time to use it,” the old man continued. “We got women and kids, and that weather ain’t playin’.”

      “No, I’m sorry,” Mobius responded. “We don’t.”

      “Well, how the heck did you get here?” the man demanded. D-90 stepped over to him and put a hand on his chest, forcing him back.

      “What are you doing?” Mobius asked the Minuteman as he began rifling through civilians’ bags. The man didn’t seem to hear him, so Mobius put a hand on his shoulder, forcing D-90’s attention back to him. “Hey! These people are scared.”

      D-90 stood up, looking Mobius dead in the eye. “They’re about to die,” he responded, without sympathy. “They should be scared.”

      “Okay. Not of us,” Mobius replied. “Take it easy.”

      “Yeah, chill the hell out, man,” Fenrir said, shoving D-90 in the arm. “What’s your problem?”

       “Sir!” another Minuteman interrupted.

       “What is it?” D-90 asked, shooting Fenrir a loaded glare.

       “We found her,” the Minuteman said, his gaze sliding over to Fenrir. “We found C-20.”

[aetherflowers]

Thursday Bangers 6/12 & WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the WIP Wednesday tag, @in-the-drowning-deep AND the Thursday Bangers tag @woundedsoul12! I'm so excited to do both that I combined them into one. Especially with this banger. I have Iris on my writing playlist in 4-5 different forms (covers, etc) because I've been obsessed with this song since it came out.

And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be And I don't wanna go home right now ~ Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

This is one of my longer snippets (sorry!) but I tried to cut it down and it felt like that made it confusing. So! Inspired by those lyrics and the amazing works of both @woundedsoul12 (that Cullavelan WIP and banger was such such a 1-2 punch, omg) and @in-the-drowning-deep (you know what you did!! 🔥🐂)

Word count: 1750-ish

It was late when a knock sounded on the door of the war room. Leliana looked across the table at him, a brow raised and a question in her eyes. He shook his head; few people knew they would be working late planning the last minute operation, and even fewer would knock. The spymaster sighed softly in frustration and turned to ease open the door.

“Red,” the Iron Bull greeted. “Commander in there too?”

When the Qunari entered the room, he smelled like a liquor cabinet. Leliana blocked his view of the war table; he had been true to his word on passing along information from the Ben-Hassrath, but she trusted very few people. Cullen followed her lead, even though Bull seemed completely unphased. He leaned casually against the doorframe, an easy smile on his face.

“So we were drinking,” he began, not that he even needed to say it, “and the Boss was knocking them back like a champ–really impressive. Then the Dragon’s Breath came out. That new Vint and I got her into bed, all tucked in safe and sound with a bucket and everything - you know, for the–” He puffed his cheeks and made a vomiting gesture. “Anyway, before we could leave she grabs my arm and goes, ‘I want to see him,’ in this cute little voice. Most of the ‘hims’ she could want to see were at the Maiden, but the Vint mentioned you were probably still in here, and if I had to put my money on who she meant…”

The Qunari waved his hand in the air and fixed a knowing smirk on the Commander. Leliana covered her mouth to hide her own amusement. The only two people who didn’t seem to know that the Herald and the Commander fancied each other were the Herald and the Commander. Cullen shifted his weight and his gaze moved in the direction of her cabin for a moment.

“Message sent,” the Iron Bull announced, clapping his hands together. “Don’t rush over there; she’ll be out for a few hours at least.”

He saluted and took his leave, shutting the door behind him. 

“I can finish this,” Leliana offered. 

While he was having trouble focusing back on the work, he shook his head and bent back over the diagrams that had been drawn of Redcliffe Castle and its secret entrance. They wouldn’t need a large force, just an efficient one. Immediately they had dispatched the best squadron for the job, but they still needed to finalize the plans to send them. If she was going in there, he had to get it right or she wouldn’t come out.

Hours later, he was exhausted but cautiously optimistic that the plan would work. The spymaster sent the plans in code and he moved through the sleeping village to her cabin. He wasn’t sure that he believed the story he had been told, but he did at least want to check on her. After Kinloch, if he’d had someone who understood what he went through, maybe things would have been different. Instead he had pushed himself and internalized the trauma, and Meredith Stannard had taken advantage of it all.

There was no response when he knocked, or when he eased the door open and called out to her. The fire in the hearth had died down and there was a chill in the room, so he moved to stoke it to keep her warm. When he passed she slept soundly, but by the time the fire was roaring, she was tossing and whimpering in a way that was far too familiar.

He sat beside her and smoothed hair off of her brow, hoping it would soothe her nightmares. Instead her eyes flew open, full of panic and fear. Magic crackled along her skin and she tried to strike him, the blows clumsy with sleep.

“Herald,” he said gently, trying to fully wake her. “Eve–”

Sleep began to lift and the panic and fear started to clear from her eyes. Her shaking breaths calmed and her hands fell to cover her face while her heart rate slowed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “It– You– I–I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have disturbed you.” He stood and moved away from her. As much as he had hoped that the demon hadn’t used him against her, the way she could barely look at him confirmed it. “Bull said… But I should have known.”

“No, I… I did ask for you, I think.” She pushed herself to sit up, and her fingers twisted through her long hair, clutching at her scalp. “I could have hurt you.”

Half-asleep and half-inebriated? That would have been unlikely. If he’d truly felt in danger, he could have nullified her magic, but he remembered how she had written about hating the feeling of reaching for her magic and not having it. 

“I did hurt you,” she choked out, and he froze. “No, I know it wasn’t you, but I–”

As if approaching a wounded animal, he moved to her bedside slowly and knelt down, making himself small so as to not spook her. “In Kinloch, during the Blight, the mages took over the circle using blood magic and demons,” he explained. “The templars–my friends–were slaughtered one by one. I was…tortured. They tried to break my mind.”

She peered at him cautiously through her fingers. 

“I don’t say this to elicit your pity,” he added, “just so you know that when I say I understand, I do.”

“I’m a Harrowed mage, I should have - I don’t know - been prepared.” It came out like a question, but she dropped her hands to her lap. 

“It takes a strong person to walk away from what you did,” he assured her. 

She scoffed and looked away, the fire reflecting in her green eyes. “It isn’t strength,” she whispered. “I just couldn’t let it use my face to hurt people.”

“Even if you can’t see it, I assure you, Herald, you are strong,” he insisted. “I’ve never met anyone with such tenacity and spirit.”

“My indomitable focus?” She watched him, still guarded. “Solas said it would be fascinating to see my will dominated. I don’t think he would have found it as compelling as he imagined.”

He had always known that others would want her, but hearing it confirmed in no uncertain terms made his hand flex around the pommel of his sword. She was not his to covet, but that did not stop him from doing so. Others already spent so much more time around her than he did and saw so much more of her; they were there for her when he could not be, and the idea pained him.

“When you look at me, Cullen, do you wish I was someone else?” She picked at her nails as she asked, an unmistakable flush on her cheeks. 

The question caught him off-guard, but then he began to make the connections. It had been an envy demon, undoubtedly it had played on related emotions like jealousy. He had a suspicion of who she meant; there was only one person who haunted him and who could also haunt her.

“I was intrigued by you that night in the Hanged Man because I saw her in you,” he confessed haltingly, and she failed to hide the way she winced at the revelation. “But I have since grown to know you, so I can say with confidence–no. I am grateful for the person you are.”

Her eyes closed and she took a slow breath through her nose as she absorbed his words. He watched her brows knit and the firelight dance across her skin, and when she met his gaze she was unguarded and vulnerable in a way he had only seen once before. As she tried to find words, her lips twitched, and then she gave up and leaned forward. When she kissed him it was a question, soft and searching. 

His answer was to cup her cheek in his gloved palm and brush his thumb over her lower lip. As much as he wanted to throw caution to the wind and kiss her until neither of them could drown in their hurts, he could not take advantage of what she had been through. When she realized, her shields raised again and she pulled away.

“You should go,” she said, and she turned her back to him as she curled into a little ball amongst the quilts on her bed. 

“I’d like to stay,” he pressed, “if you’ll allow it.”

When she nodded, he moved across the room to divest himself of his armor and sword. There was a mountain of work to be done, but the one thing he had wished for after Kinloch was someone to just be there. They had healed his physical wounds, watched to be certain he hadn’t harbored a demon, and not bothered with the rest. The raw wound left on his soul by the experience had scabbed over and calloused, and for years he had become someone he barely recognized. 

By the time he moved back to the bed, she had turned over and was watching him with a look in her eyes that made him flush.

“At the risk of embarrassing myself further, will you…” She moved over so there was ample space even in her small bed for him.

Slowly he eased onto the mattress, and she curled herself around him until she fit perfectly against his side. She pressed her palm against his chest, right over his heart, and he hoped its racing wouldn’t cause her to turn away. With her head on his shoulder he could smell the floral soap she used, and a contented noise escaped the back of her throat when his hand skated up her back.

As he got more comfortable with having her so close, he wrapped his other hand around the one on his chest and she let out a sigh that relaxed her. It didn’t take long for her breath to even out in sleep, and between her warmth and the comfort of knowing she was safe in his arms, he followed soon after. With luck his own nightmares wouldn’t interrupt her sleep, and she wouldn’t be plagued by her own. 

By the time he woke, she was gone and only her scent and her warmth lingered. There was a note on the desk, but he knew by the amount of sunlight that she was already on her way to Redcliffe. 

[Cullen–

Thank you for indulging me. I know I ask too much of you. I hope a few more hours of sleep will start to make up for it.

Eve]

[ship-o-rama]

Upgraded Klingon Birds of Prey Squadron

Profile: Newly rebuilt birds of prey incorporating future Romulan and Borg technology that came with the Narada. Commander Kor commanding, maiden voyage. Responded to the Klingon distress call at Kithomer and the squadron faced off against the Enterprise.

Pictured: The Upgraded Bird of Prey of Prey Squadron in flight

Appeared in Star Trek Ongoing Vol 6-7, IDW Comics