#ff: amaranth

[monstersandgenderqueers]

Amaranth (Ch. 2)

You figured that he won't kill you. Yet. So, you brought him inside like a stray pet. Loki is a bit of a puzzle that you're itching to solve. Unsurprisingly, he felt the same way about you.

Chapter 2 of ?

Word Count: 2094

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader

Chapter warnings: light descriptions of injuries

Prev: Prologue ; Chapter One

A/N: Pay no mind to the awful flirting. I'm terrible at it in real life, so it's only fair that any character I write would be the same. Divider credit @/saradika

If you were being honest with yourself, it felt nice. Maybe it had been too long since the last time someone dared touch you so intimately. Loki's grip tightened when you made no move to free yourself. Did your calm demeanor unnerve him? His hand squeezed your arm until you couldn't feel your fingertips. He released your mouth to grab your chin instead, holding your head still but allowing you to speak if you so desired.

By all accounts, it felt so real. The warm puffs of air that caressed your ear as he spoke, the heat that seeped into your skin from his hands, even the crunching of the gravel under his boots as he shifted his weight closer to your center of gravity. All senses pointed towards this Loki being real. Except, you knew it wasn't. You couldn't feel the energy coming from whatever it was that stood behind you.

You could, however, hear something subtle coming from behind the tree the crows had flown away from moments before. Not with your ears, of course. Loki was far too stealthy. But, the clear droning from the tree was interrupted by something that thrummed wildly.

You raised your voice more than necessary, to be sure he could hear you from his hiding place, "Is this doing anything for you? Watching from the shadows like some pervert?" You tsked, keeping your eyes on your crushed flowers.

The Loki behind you let go and then disappeared, leaving behind only a chill and the tingling in your arm as blood returned to your fingers.

Loki—the real one, you hoped—took a step out from behind the tree and leaned heavily against the trunk. "You're more perceptive than other mortals. Far more than I gave you credit for when we first met."

"I wouldn't call sneaking up behind me a first meeting."

He tutted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I meant long before, in that crude skyscraper your friend erected in his name." You cringed a bit. Could he not have phrased that any other way?

It took a moment to recall what he was hinting at. You were in New York when the Chitauri attacked, but you weren't an Avenger back then. At that time, you were little more than the equivalent of an intern, maybe an apprentice at one point. You certainly didn't believe Loki would have any reason to remember you, the same way you didn't remember having met him straight away.

Almost like he knows what you're thinking, he smirked, then his dulcet voice drifted over to you, "If I recall correctly, you were being escorted back inside the building by security when Stark stopped you." He paused, wondering if you truly remembered or not. "You stared at me quite intently. Directly into my eyes, I might add. Were you searching for something, darling?"

Ah. That. 

Beneath the inappropriate 'flirting', Loki was telling the truth. You did stare at him for a long time when you crossed by on your way back into the tower. His features were more sunken in back then, his face was a sickly, pasty color that only served to bring more attention to the darkness under his eyes. 

He looked defeated in every which way, except for in his eyes. You remember that part clearly. Relief. That was what you saw in his eyes that day, and that was most definitely why you held eye contact for so long. You were curious as to why you saw that emotion, even if it was likely only your poor interpretation of the situation.

That, and the muzzle. Your eyes had lingered on that part for a second or two. It cut into his skin ever so slightly, and you could tell he had a million things to say and not a single one of those words would have been true. 

You sighed, wiping that image from your mind before it got any ideas. "With the way you're talking to me, you should've been kept muzzled. Permanently."

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Careful, darling. You're giving away your personal tastes."

"Would you stop doing that? Calling me 'darling'?"

"Oh, but you look like someone who desperately needs to be called darling—"

What does that even mean? "Ew, no. If you want me to help you, or whatever, you have to at least try to be decent." His smirk only grows. His mouth opens, but you interrupt him again, "What are you even doing here? I thought you died?"

He looks around for a moment, thinking. "Would you mind if we took this inside? I am famished."

You rolled your eyes. Truthfully, you knew you shouldn't trust him at all, given how he's supposed to be dead. But, before you cut contact with everyone, Thor shared a few stories about Loki, including what he did before his supposed death.

Too tired and wound up to think of it any longer, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It wasn't like it would matter much if he betrayed that frayed strand of trust, anyway. How bad could it be?

Loki sat at your dining table, watching you as you turned on the kettle and grabbed your leftovers from the fridge. He assessed your home, his eyes zeroed in on the details as if he were looking for something. He turned to you just as you put the plate in the microwave. "Darling, I've heard of the 'minimalist movement', but I never quite expected it to be so seedy. Does your designer live in a garbage bin, by any chance?"

You glared at him. "I thought we agreed you would stop calling me 'darling'."

"We didn't agree on anything. It was all in jest, dear. Nevertheless, I shall abide by your rules for the time being." He plastered on a smile as if to show his sincerity, but it was as uncanny as the rest of his appearance.

You sighed in lieu of a proper response. You knew he was goading you --his tone was more patronizing than flirtatious. Though, you still gave him a sideways glance… and then another. Something was definitely off, but not in the same way as the clone had been.

Once microwaved, you set the plate of mushy 'food' in front of him. You let him eat a few bites before bluntly asking, "Why do you smell like blood?"

He paused mid-bite, assessing you. "I am fine," he said, a bit sharper than he meant. He kept his eyes on you during the entire meal, just as you did, with your hips leant against the countertop. Loki stared as you idly brewed some tea, plopping tea bags into chipped mugs.

It was silent and tense as the two of you leered at each other, waiting for the other to speak first.

Loki sighed, then dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Curiously, he asked, "How did you know that it wasn't me?" When you looked at him, confused, he elaborated, "In your garden. You knew it wasn't me that had grabbed you, but an illusion. How?"

He waited for you to answer, his muscles more tense the longer it took you to reply. This one is more dangerous than I had assumed, he thought. A witch? A sorcerer? The teasing attitude he started with morphed into something with an edge.

Loki was confused when you shrugged, seeming to brush off something so incredible. You confounded him.

You sat down with your own tea, and answered, "I just sort of felt it. That clone, or whatever, didn't feel alive like everything else. And then I could feel your energy behind the tree, so…" you trailed off, looking at the wood grain of your dining table.

He raised his brow, taken aback. Very few had been able to tell the difference between reality and any of his illusions, unless they had seen him conjure them in the first place. Mostly everyone except his mother, that is, but he never got the chance to ask if it was because she taught him how to cast illusions, or if she just knew him well enough to know.

With a thousand questions that ran through his mind, he decided on the more urgent ones. "Tell me where I am," he said, more of a command than a question.

"My house."

He visibly held back a groan.

"Fine. We're in New York, north of NYC." 

His face and shoulders relaxed just a bit. "Do you know where Thor is?"

It was your turn to bite back a groan. It looked like you wouldn't be able to avoid a trip to New Asgard, after all. Even if you could just toss Loki off of your property, it didn't feel right to just give him directions. He may look princely and composed, but he gave off the energy of a cat that fell into water.

"Yes. I do."

Shortly after Loki finished his meal, and ravaged the scraps in your fridge, he followed you up the stairs to the upper floor, and then into the sparse 'guest' bedroom. You had half a mind to apologize for the squeaky metal frame that held the lumpy twin mattress and the discarded, hoarded items tucked into the closet. However, his curt nod silenced you before you even spoke, and he shut the door practically in your face.

He heard you breathe out a heavy sigh and walk away, likely towards your own room down the hall. Loki listened more intently, hearing muffled voices coming from the other side of the house. He assumed you were talking on the phone. He couldn't quite make out who you were talking to, but after hearing no mention of his name nor anything related to him, he let a deep breath out.

For now, it seemed that he wouldn't have to sneak away in the dead of night, though he kept that in mind as he pondered the question of how to do so if you could tell when he was tricking you. THe lack of an explanation of how your 'gift' worked ate away at him.

Loki opened the small door beside him, and nearly moaned in relief when he saw a clawfoot tub. He was glad to see that you weren't too neglectful of the unused rooms in your home—the tub was clean, and only a few specks of lint dotted the bottom. He turned on the faucet and smiled when the water came out clear, and it only took a short while to fill the tub with hot water.

He let the illusion drop, the cuts and bruises on his skin becoming clear as he took stock of the damage in the mirror. His hair was matted with blood—a cut ran halfway down his scalp, and it burned and throbbed. 

Loki could deal with it later.

He peeled off his clothes and let them fall to the tile, far too exhausted to use more magic than necessary.

Though he survived the fall after the shuttle exploded shortly after entering the atmosphere, Loki knew he had at least a few fractures. The bruises that blossomed over his ribs and hips were certainly proof that even gods could be injured.

The water turned murky the moment he stepped in. He knew he should hurry, wash up and get some rest to restore what energy he could in case he needed more than illusions to save his skin.

But, his mind kept switching back and forth between trusting you. It was unsettling, the way you saw him. How calm you were despite someone like him crashing at your feet. He'd learned to read people early on, a necessary skill he developed when he first realized that the kind words and praises sent his way were often false.

He knew you were genuine. He'd seen it in the tower years ago, when you first looked at him with no hint of malice or fear. Only curiosity, perhaps even worry.

Even today, you met his wit with your own, and he could feel that you didn't edit your thoughts much before speaking. You weren't nearly as evasive as he had been.

He still couldn't keep his mind from thinking about it, though, that maybe you had called for backup, and he'd open the bathroom door to find someone waiting for him with more shackles. He sighed and sunk deeper into the tub, feeling the water swirl around his hair in a minute, gentle current.

Loki could worry later. For now, he could let himself rest.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Redesigning the mechanics of FFIX

Final Fantasy 9 is a return to form for SquareEnix. Leaving behind all the sci-fi additions and returning to an era of SteamPunk. This is before SteamPunk was a standalone concept. So it's not so heavy handed.

Noting the flaws they had with the Materia system in FF7, and not wanting every character to be caster; equipment now has levels that allow you to learn abilities from them.

Each piece of equipment having unique abilities for characters to learn.

Each of the main characters has a concept that closely aligns with a classical class concept; Zidane is a thief, Garnet a White Mage, Steiner a Knight, Vivi a black mage, Eiko a Summoner, Freya the dragoon, Quina the Blue Mage, and Amaranth a Monk.

This gets muddy when Vivi and Steiner form Team Dark Knight, giving Steiner the ability to en-element his attacks with Vivi's black magic at the cost of his own MP, and Garnet actually being a much stronger summoner than Eiko despite being the White Mage.

I think that this "Team-up" mechanic that Steiner and Vivi showcase early on, and subsequently forgotten should have had a more central role in this game's mechanics.

This would allow combo and team attacks that are very flavorful and visually interesting. It would also make the Alexander summoning seem more interesting because despite Garnet and Eiko teaming up to summon him the first time, Garnet just Solo summons him afterwards.

Combining Amaranth and Zidane to create a long range attack (throw back to Mario RPG with Bowser/Mario) would also have been an interesting way to use Amaranth's throw skill (which is limited to tossing coins at your Witcher, and junk items you were gonna sell anyway.)

FF9 is also the game that introduces the "Trance" ability. Unlike the previous iterations by having a set time period where your characters attack power is upgraded and your main character abilities temporarily upgrade.

I say "Introduced" because it's not the first time we've seen something like this, but it's the first time it's mechanically significant. An earlier version was given to [Ryder/Rydia/Lidia?] after living with moogles for a bit.

*I'm not gonna Google her name.*

And Trance an ability that one of the main antagonists figures out how to use perpetually. With the party having to fight him while he's doing so.

OThere's also Auctions, the return of the Chocobo Forest (with hot and cold mini-game,) several sprawling kingdoms to explore, the Library of Alexandria having been spirited away by Leviathan and who makes the books all soggy, and ultimately facing off against Garland and the original 4 fiends of the original game before flying off to the red moon. (Planet 9, possibly cocoon)

I'm stopping to consider the equipment/ability linkage added in order to increase the difficulty for speed runners (and the subsequently addition of Excalibur2 specifically as a reward for to speed runners)

In retrospect it's a neat little ability used to replace the Materia system we saw in FF7, as this game seems to predate man-made materia, while still having a proto-materia included with certain items.

And these "Decorations" seem to be what gives the characters their extra abilities. Basically, still referencing the slot system, while taking it away as a core mechanic.

In hindsight it limits the user to wear equipment for a certain duration while simultaneously forcing them to grind if they wish to keep the ability.

Seeing as the latest FF games have started going away from the old paradigm of grind, and feeling more *Milestone* unless you're a try hard player, this system *probably* should be updated. But to what? I'm unsure.

Maybe it should just be a list of equipment and you can equip any of a handful at a time as long as you have the AP to do so? Then you can both limit the amount per player team AND avoid needing to grind it out.

Regardless; I just really like the *team* mechanic and wish it was expanded more.

[as-dreamers-do]

Amaranth's fic is currently posted on ff dot net here (though I'm considering cross-posting on AO3 since that's more popular now), and if she does okay in the polls I'm hoping I will be motivated to push forward on writing it! Vote Amaranth for a struggling fic writer 🥺

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Amelia Liadon [Between the Veil and Crown @secretariatess]

Amelia Liadon is the adopted daughter of the Liadon family (after her mother passed away from an ongoing illness) and has carried on her adoptive mother's work of healer. Her favorite brother is Kylin, who stops by to visit her between Ranger duties, she lives in a cottage by herself in the forest (the exception being her goats and chickens), and has an unfortunate reputation of accidentally committing felonies, such as kidnapping a prince out of panic and making him do work around the cottage- because what else are you supposed to do with a kidnapped prince? Besides that, she's the sweetest thing who wishes Kylin wouldn't call his new horse "Vicious"- it's too cruel of a name, even if the horse has a habit of biting.

Amaranth Brandybuck [Loyalty, Honor, a Willing Heart @as-dreamers-do] - Hobbit OC

Amaranth Brandybuck may be just barely out of her tweens, but she's already traveled the Shire more than might be seemly for the oldest daughter of Brandy Hall. When her less adventurous cousin Bilbo turns down what seems the offer of a lifetime, she volunteers to join a strange band of Dwarves on a quest to steal back their ancestral home from the dragon nesting in its halls. Her love of good stories and longing for adventure are rivaled perhaps only by her quick wits and glib tongue, which she tends to use more often than she'd like to admit in keeping on everyone's good side. She may be leaving behind her family (though Bilbo's last-minute change of heart was very welcome), her rolling green hills, and all semblance of proper pie-baking facilities, but something about the twinkle in a certain dark-haired Dwarf prince's eye and the mountains rising in the distance make her think she's none the poorer for the exchange. (Note: Amaranth's name, age, and all family relations are straight out of the LotR family tree appendix--her youngest sister is Frodo's mother, Primula!)

[tainoodles]

Terra: Grandma? You both look so young!

Carnation: And you’ve got all of your color back. 

Terra: Oh... you’re right. I do. My muscles too... it’s like I’m at least fifteen years younger. 

Melrose: Time is irrelevant here, and it turns out so is aging. You can look any age you’d like.

Terra: Wait, really?

Melrose: Really. So it seems like your heart chose the way you look right now. 

Carnation: It feels great to be back in your prime! I do not miss all of those aches and pains that’s for sure. 

[gelicide]

doodlydo of my poketrainersona(?) amaranth. i literally just got my faves on shield and i’m vvv happy about it

[jamverse]

apparently i hadn’t actually drawn post-toxinvein amaranth in full color before so i Did That to make sure her color balance is still gonna work. another day another set of tweaks. -gave her a necklace thing because the cyan in her eyes gets replaced when this happens, and it was driving me up the wall not having any of that color on her upper half -finally decided to get rid of the shoulder tassels. they were just kind of obstructive at this point and not helping the color balance -stole helltaker judgement’s hand armor style because it’s way easier for me to draw than how i had ama’s gloves originally

also the toxinvein spines just kind of texture clip with her hair i guess. it’s fine.

[punkinroses]

Soooo @delightfulmercy tagged me in this and uh have fun figuring some of these out but half of them fall under at least one very specific category

Whoever wants to do this, go for it and whoever wants to call me out feel free to.

[tempest-toss]

Recovered Document: FF-22

The following is a comprehensive list of the known members of the Group of Interest known as the Flora Fighters, from when they officially formed to their fall at Battle of Prague.

--Ten

((To reiterate, you may ask Ten and Yam about any of them, both generally and specific [specific would be better for Yam]))

~~

1. Madame Chrysanthemum - leader - Alive 2. Acai - Chem expert - Deceased (shot) 3. Acerola - Cook - Deceased (Froze to death) 4. Acorn - Rookie - Deceased (burnt) 5. Aloe Vera - Medical - Alive 6. Amaranth - tailor - Deceased (Crushed by rubble) 7. Anemone - Underwater Agent - Deceased (drowned) 8. Apple - Cook - Alive (Imprisoned) 9. Apricot and Apricot - Rookies - Alive 10. Ash - Builder - Deceased (burnt) 11. Astrantia - Scout - Deceased (Decapitated) 12. Atemoya - Field Agent - Deceased (eaten) 13. Azalea - Trainer - Alive 14. Babaco - Trainer - Deceased (Strangled) 15. Bamboo - Builder - Deceased (stabbed) 16. Basil - Cook - Alive (imprisoned) 17. Bearberry - Trainer - Deceased (Shot) 18. Belladonna - Poisoner - Alive 19. Blazing Stars - Field Agent - Deceased (Trampled) 20. Blood Orange - Medical - Alive 21. Bloodroots - Trainer - Deceased (Shot) 22. Bluebell - Field Agent - Deceased (Crushed by rubble) 23. Blueberry - Trainer - Alive (Imprisoned) 24. Boneset - Chem Expert - Alive (Fled) 25. Boxelder - Field Agent - Deceased (strangled)

26. Buttercups - Trainer - Alive

27. Cabbage - Financial Supplier - Alive

28. Candytuft - Cook - Deceased (Drowned)

29. Catnip - Financial Supplier - Deceased (Caught in explosion)

30. Cattail - Reconnaisance - Alive

31. Chamomile - Medical - Alive (Imprisoned)

32. Cherry Blossom - Trainer - Alive (Fled)

33. Chives - Field Agent - Alive (Imprisoned)

34. Clover - Spy - Deceased (strangled)

35. Coconut - Spy - Alive

36. Croton - Scout - Deceased (Strangled)

37. Damson - Scout - Alive (Imprisoned)

38. Dogwood - ??? - Alive? (Missing at FF formation)

39. Dracaena - Trainer - Deceased (Shot)

40. Dragonfruit - Trainer - Alive (Imprisoned) 41. Duku - Field Agent - Deceased (Caught in explosion) 42. Durian - Soldier - Deceased (Strangled) 43. Fern - Mother of Yam - Deceased (decapitated) 44. Fireweed - Pyrotechnics - Deceased (Burnt)

45. Flapjack - Cook - Alive 46. Foxglove - Poisoner - Deceased (Poisoned) 47. Fuchsia - Tailor - Alive

48. Ghost Pipes - Medical - Alive

49. Ginger - Soldier - Deceased (Shot) 50. Gold Mops - Rookie - Deceased (Eaten) 51. Goldenrod - Strategist - Deceased (Smothered) 52. Guava - Rookie - Deceased (Crushed)

53. Herb - Father of Yam - ???(Stuck in Soul Locket)

54. Hibiscus - Financial Supplier - Alive (Fled)

55. Honeysuckle - Spy - Deceased (Shot)

56. Hydrangea - Assassin - Deceased (Eaten)

57. Ivy - Poisoner - Alive

58. Jack-in-the-Pulpit - Wildcard - Alive (Imprisoned)

59. Jalapeno - Pyrotechnics - Alive

60. Jujube - Soldier - Deceased (Eaten) 61. Juniper - Rookie - Alive 62. Kapok - Field Agent - Deceased (Burnt) 63. Kelp - Underwater Agent - Alive 64. Kiwi - Soldier - Alive (Imprisoned) 65. Kudzu - Assassin - Alive 66. Lantana - Poisoner - Deceased (Eaten) 67. Lemon and Lime - Field Agent - Deceased (Crushed, Eaten) 68. Lemongrass - Guard - Deceased (Strangled) 69. Lily - Poisoner - Alive (Fled) 70. Litchi - Strategist - Alive (Fled) 71. Lobelia - Assassin - Deceased (Smothered) 72. Lotus - Assassin - Alive (Imprisoned) 73. Lupine Flour - Scout - Deceased (Caught in explosion) 74. Mangosteen - Chem expert - Deceased (Strangled) 75. Maple - Baker - Deceased (Burnt) 76. Mega and Mini Mushroom - Soldier and Strategist - Deceased (Smothered, Crushed by rubble) 77. Milkweed - Cook - Deceased (eaten by West Virginia Bug Committee) 78. Mint - Chem expert - Deceased (Caught in explosion) 79. Morel - Head Guard - Alive (Jailbreak) 80. Mountain Laurel - Poisoner - Alive (Fled) 81. Mushroom - "Pyrotechnics" - Deceased (burnt) 82. Muskgrass - Underwater expert - Deceased (Drowned) 83. Nightshade - Poisoner - Deceased (Strangled) 84. Oleander - Poisoner - Alive (Fled) 85. Pansy - Soldier - Alive (Fled) 86. Parsley - Strategist - Deceased (shot through throat) 87. Parsnip - Strategist - Deceased (Caught in explosion) 88. Pear - Medical - Deceased (Burnt) 89. Peppermint - Pyrotechnics - Alive (Imprisoned) 90. Persimmon - Field Agent - Deceased (Poisoned) 91. Phlox - Reconnaissance - Deceased (Decapitated) 92. Plum - Cook - Deceased (Decapitated) 93. Poppy - Financial Supplier - Alive (Fled) 94. Potato - Guard - Alive (Imprisoned) 95. Prickly Pear - Guard - Deceased (Strangled) 96. Pumpkin - Soldier - Deceased (Smashed to pieces) 97. Raspberry - Guard - Deceased (Shot) 98. Rhododendron - Strategist - Deceased (Buried alive) 99. Rose - Guard - Deceased (Drowned) 100. Saguaro - Financial Supplier - Deceased (Neck snapped) 101. Salt Cedar - Medical - Deceased (Decapitated) 102. Sassafras - Poisoner - Alive (Imprisoned) 103. Seaweed - Underwater Agent - Deceased (Caught in explosion) 104. Snowdrop - Chem Expert - Deceased (Poisoned) 105. Spruce - Builder - Alive (Fled) 106. Starfruit - Chem Expert - Alive (Imprisoned) 107. String of Pearls - Underwater Agent - Deceased (Strangled) 108. Sugarcane - Scout - Alive 109. Sweetgum - Reconnaissance - Deceased (Shot) 110. Sycamore - Field Agent - Alive (Fled) 111. Tansy - Poisoner - Deceased (Crushed by rubble) 112. Tobacco - Chem Expert - Deceased (Crushed) 113. Tomato - Cook - Deceased (Poisoned) 114. Tulip -Field Agent - Deceased (Trampled) 115. Uva - Guard - Alive 116. Vanilla - Guard - Deceased (Caught in Explosion) 117. Watermelon - Soldier - Alive 118. Wheat - Cook - Alive 119. White Baneberry - Poisoner - Deceased (Crushed) 120. Willow - Builder - Deceased (Caught in explosion) 121. Yam - Rookie - Alive (escaped) 122. Yarrow - Field Agent - Deceased (Eaten) 123. Yew - Poisoner - Alive (Imprisoned) 124. Yucca - Soldier - Alive 125. Zinnia - Pyrotechnics - Alive (Fled)

((If you made it this far, congrats! And thank you! It means a lot that you would take the time to read this /gen :) ))

[teaandspite]

The greatest tool for catching vampires/fairies/immortals would be a baby names book. All those smartasses who picked Meaningful Names get called out immediately.

[monstersandgenderqueers]

Amaranth (Prologue)

You never thought that the criminal who crash-landed in your garden would become your everything.

Chapter 0 of ?

Chapter summary: After Ragnarok, Loki is saved.

Word count: 1323

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader (he/him pronouns for Loki in this chapter)

Chapter warnings: Themes of death, light gore

Next: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

A/N: This is my first fanfic in... 8 or 9 years. I thought I should probably share my wonderful mind movies with the rest of you Loki lovers.

It was cold. So damned cold. And that was coming from a frost giant, and one who couldn't even feel the cold.

"Your fingers are frozen, Loki!" Though said in jest, this phrase and others similar managed to worm their way into Loki's heart. To have people shy away from his touch for a thousand years only ensured he was never affectionate. It made sense why, after he found out his heritage. He wasn't drastically colder than other Asgardians, but the difference was enough to cause them to gasp or yelp in surprise if he dared touch their bare skin. Only his mother could stand holding his hands for very long, but even she would let go.

What a waste. A life without warmth… by the Norns, have I always been so pitiful?

He couldn't help it. The negative thoughts whirling in his mind, that is. He had nothing else to do after all, floating in space for what felt like an eternity. Again.

After yet another heroic sacrifice, he found himself dead and yet not. His corpse — if he was indeed dead — drifted within the debris and shattered remains of what once was an interstellar ship and its passengers. His people. The Asgardians. At least some of them. He had no idea how many had survived, or how many clawed their way into escape pods, or had small vessels of their own. Not many. Not enough.

Loki cursed in his mind. Over and over and over. What sort of sick joke was this? How many deaths would it take for his life to end? Surely, it would have only taken one. When he let go at the Rainbow Bridge… yes, that should have been the end. But he fell for what felt like forever. 

It didn't take long for the sick feeling of falling to fade, since there was no air in the void of space. No gravity to pull or yank him any which way. He cursed then, too. Cursed his heritage, his magic, anything he could think of that kept him alive in a place where things should not live. It had kept him alive until Thanos had scooped him up, and…

No. No. Loki couldn't think about it for a moment longer.

This felt terrifyingly similar, though he was certain he was 'dead' for much longer this time. Weeks, maybe months. He wouldn't know. Last time, he stared at the stars. The galaxy was bare before him, nothing impeded the view of its majesty. They blinked and danced, swirled and burst in a glorious death. He had kept his eyes open, watched as they moved… he kept track of time that way. But now, he couldn't see from his own eyes. Couldn't move, or breathe…

Well, something was keeping him 'alive.' Something, or someone, had made sure his consciousness remained in his abandoned corpse. He gave up trying to figure out why long ago. Loki had nothing to do but think, and ruminating only served to cause phantom aches in his still heart.

A glorious purpose… Ha. I have no purpose. I am nothing but a glorious fraud. Glorious traitor, monster, hor-

His self-loathing was interrupted by an odd sensation. Loki's body was being moved. But who—

why? He tried desperately to feel something, but the only thing he could register was the slight disarray of his innards as gravity took hold. Voices drifted around him, but they were so faint, he could have mistaken them for air currents.

Air?

Bright light. Scorching heat. Pain, pain in every nerve and it was cold and hot. So intense was the pain that he might've pissed his pants if his bladder was functioning. Small victories, he supposed.

It took many more bursts of pure, raw sensation for his vision to come back. His eyes slowly focused on oddly shaped figures. They looked like fat, gray worms with an unnerving amount of pupils and arms. Perhaps some of those arms were legs, but Loki did not want to look. They held tools in their hand-like appendages, pressing them against his skin.

The sound came back. It must've been language, but it was closer to a chittering sound than anything Loki had ever encountered before in space-faring species. He figured they somehow reanimated him, and for a moment he was grateful, but then he very quickly became annoyed. He would rather have been left drifting in space. It was what he deserved.

It only took a few more hours for his nerves to work as they should. He sat up, slowly, with the help of one of the worm people. He knew he should've attempted to speak to them, to thank them and whatnot, but he had no idea what their intentions could have been. Sure, he's alive, but that last entity to bring him out of the void tortu-

Not going there. Stop thinking about it.

After another few hours, and a very gray and gloopy bowl of 'food' that he hoped with all his existence was not actually a part of the gray worm people, he was able to move around the sterile medical bay. One of them led him down an equally bright and sterile hall, chittering as it went. As wet as its skin looked, it did not leave behind a trail of slime as Loki would have assumed. So, calling them slugs or worms or anything of the like was probably not the most appropriate thing to do. He wondered what he should call them, then, if not giant bugs, but then the doors whooshed open and he saw true horror.

Asgardians. Pieces of them. Pieces of their ship. He didn't want to count, or even estimate how many bodies lie in the cargo hold. But based on the size of the mound, and that the cargo hold was hundreds of meters across… it might've been the entire debris field. They must have taken it all in, and found Loki whole among the many scattered parts of people he knew.

He didn't remember how, but the creatures had walked him back to the medical bay. It was a different one, unlike the surgical bay he was in. This one was bare of instruments or monitors, only rows and rows of benches. A morgue? Dozens of bodies. Some seemed whole, some mostly whole. All Asgardian. The aliens had tried to reanimate all of them, and had not succeeded. This only furthered Loki's suspicions that someone kept him from death, but he found it hard to follow that thought all the way through to any logical conclusion. He felt more numb, standing there in the morgue, than he had when his nerves were dead and his brain stem severed by Thanos.

He stood there for a long time.

Three days passed. Yes, Loki was able to keep track of time once more. In that time, he ate gray sludge, listened to the chitter and chatter of his saviors, and managed to fix one of the broken escape pods that sat with the rest of the cargo. Mostly with magic, of course. 

He then oversaw the cremation of his people, and decided that should he ever wish to discard memories, the smell and the feeling of the smoke in his lungs would be the first to go. Loki briefly wondered if he should have given them a more honorable funeral, but the bitterness from being banished from Frigga's funeral was still strong.

Loki thanked the aliens by demonstrating some of his magic. Casting projections was easy, and they seemed excited to see the images dancing on the blank walls, if their "tktktk" sound was anything to go by.

He decided to call them Weavers, for reasons unknown to him. It had simply felt right.

Without even a final glance backwards, Loki slapped the controls in the pod until the lights came back on, and then he set a course for Midgard.

[badstoriesaboutgoodpeople]

I’ve finally decided to just do the challenge where you spell out your URL with song titles. Nobody tagged me lol I just wanna do it bc mine is so extra. I put it under a cut so it’s not so bad lol

Broke In A Minute- Tory Lanez

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene- Hozier

Dear Theodosia- Lin-Manuel Miranda & Leslie Odom Jr.

Swish- Mike Stud (I’m not proud of this one but I know every single word)

The Drug In Me Is You- Falling In Reverse

Ode To Sleep- twenty one pilots

Ruby- Kaiser Chiefs

In Chains- Shaman’s Harvest

En Feu- Soprano

Sapés comme jamais- Maître Gims ft. Niska

American Idiot- Green Day

Beast- Chris Classic

Off the Tracks- Shaman’s Harvest

Up in this- blackbear

Troublemaker- Olly Murs ft. Flo Rida

Gold Digger- Kanye West ft. Jamie Foxx

Old Fashioned- Panic! At the Disco

On the Rocks- Amaranthe 

Dance, Dance- Fall Out Boy

Paradise- Coldplay

Escalate- Tsar B

Ocean eyes- Billie Eilish

Pet Cheetah- twenty one pilots

Land of Lola- Original West End Cast of Kinky Boots

Energy- Drake

I tag anyone that wants to do this!! Please feel free to make fun of my music taste, I know its all over the place 

[lozfunposts]

Should everything Michael Kirkblade writes about TES really be taken seriously and considered canon though? FFS there's a story by him where Alduin calls a demon king a "stupid little f*cker" before turning him into Mehrunes Dagon.

Is that in c0da? Because if it’s in c0da it’s confirmed not canon. If not that’s kinda retarted… However godhead and chim, amaranth, ect is all in canon confirmed. And that’s why I’m upset about it.

[viilkaas]

I’ve waffled on Viilkaas’ voice several times, under the thought it should be deeper than deep on account of him being, well, huge. But honestly, his character is a re-skinned version of my werewolf and shares the same VC. That being Mark Healy as Vernon Roche. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VbrTvZUjgw Keith Ferguson as Basch from FF XII is also a good contender: https://youtu.be/XBMADnH8XIk There’s a grit to it; that of an experienced older man. There’s meant to be a weight to his voice, a command that’s innate. He’s an old soldier, and a well-read one. Viilkaas, despite first impressions, is capable of a surprising amount of eloquence. As for Amaranth, he’s meant to have a velvet-smooth voice. Deep. Lush. It’s meant to be obvious that he comes from an aristocratic background. Everything about him is meant to be magnetic, a touch theatrical. The boy has a taste for the melodrama. The closest approximations I can give are: Jhin from LoL: https://youtu.be/76xCQD9WEX8 and Balthier from FF XII https://youtu.be/wLr0i_OnTig

[tainoodles]

Terra: It is nice and all but... we’re all dead right?

Melrose: We are...

Carnation: It takes a while to get used to the idea. We had a hard time when we first arrived too. But being able to see Mercury and our parents again really made it worth it. 

Terra: But what about the people you left behind? I’m sorry, I’m not trying to say it’s not amazing to get to see the three of you again but... what about Colby? Mars and Ceres? Luna? My moms, Solstice, Equinox, Crescent, and Honey Bella? I was about to become a grandma myself...

[monstersandgenderqueers]

Amaranth (Ch. 1)

Your wonderfully peaceful day was ruined by a red-headed assassin and a particularly aggravating, familiar stranger.

Chapter 1 of ?

Word Count: 2477

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader

Chapter warnings: Reader swears a lot, unnamed trauma

Prev: Prologue

Next: Ch. 2

You were kneeling in your vegetable patch when a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the afternoon sunlight. You sighed and wiped away the sweat on your brow, glowering as you turned to look at the intruder.

"Go away, Natasha."

Nat simply stared at you with her arms crossed, not a hint of emotion on her face. After a brief staring contest, you huffed and turned back around, resuming your task of tying your squash vines to a hefty new trellis. You gave up when it was clear that she wasn't going to leave. "What is it? What could you possibly need me for?"

"Thor could use some help up in New Asgard."

You turned again and let the vine you were propping up sag to the soil. "Uh huh. With…what, exactly? It's not like I'm his friend."

She took a deep breath, probably the only sign she would give that told you she was annoyed with you. "I'm not sure. King Brunnhilde requested assistance, and Thor gave your name."

"Okay… but… why?"

She was now visibly annoyed. "Just do it. Thor hasn't contacted us in a year, so it must be something important."

Guilt swirled in your insides for a moment. You knew you were being an ass, and this wasn't the first time Nat had to act as a messenger. People still needed help, and you were supposed to be a hero. Wel… you were. "No, thanks. Thor was the one most pissed off with me, aside from Steve."

"No one was 'pissed off' with you."

Your voice came out harsher and louder than you intended, "Yes, they were. Still are. Even Tony called me a coward."

She stepped closer. "No one thinks that—"

"Yes, they do!" You cried out, scaring a flock of birds nearby. "I'm sure everyone who knows what I did thinks so." You dug your hands into the dirt, spread your fingers wide to feel as much soil as you could, to feel the humming and pulsing of the roots and the worms and the water from the rain that fell the day before. "Thor wouldn't even look at me when I said I was sorry."

She cursed your name under her breath. "It's been over a year since the Blip. I'm sure he forgave you long ago." She placed her hand on your shoulder, ignoring the tension that built up beneath your skin. " After all that his people have been through, I don't think he has it in him to hold a grudge. Besides, I think it would be good for you to get out of this…" she trailed off, her eyes flickering over your haphazardly built garden and your fixer-upper of a house.

"I'm not leaving my home, Nat. If Thor, or King Brunnhilde, or anyone else in the world, wants my help, then they can come here," you spat, shrugging her hand off your shoulder. You knew you weren't being fair. Your phone was often left inside, untouched. It was near impossible to contact you on good days, and it was likely that at least half of the dozens of missed calls still in your notifications were from Nat. You hadn't checked in days.

A squirrel passed on by, distracting you for a split second before Nat tapped your ankle with her boot.

You could tell that she was restraining herself. She was always patient with you, but even so, she had her limits. "Fine, fine. I'll let them know." She stared a moment longer, giving you a minute to change your mind. When it was clear that you wouldn't, she sighed. "Well, it was nice to see you."

She whispered goodbye and said your name with the same tone your teachers had used when you acted out or drifted off. Disappointed, concerned. Nat walked away, sparing a single glance back as she strode down the gravel path between your berry bushes and spiral herb garden. You caught her eyes, and held her gaze until she turned back around and disappeared around the corner behind the wilder edge of your property. The gate behind the wall of leaves groaned and squeaked as it opened and shut, as the hinges were unused to the movement.

When you were sure that she was gone, you stood and dusted off your pants. Using your grimy hand to shield your eyes, you took a look around, making a mental checklist of things to do before the sun set in a few hours. 

Your eyes swept over the facade of your house, taking in the peeled paint and rotting trim. It was some sort of ghastly gothic revival thing, neglected for decades before Tony bought it and gave it to you as some sort of apology. You still weren't sure if he was sincere, since his last words to you before you separated from the Avengers were, "You always wanted a home. Now you have it."

At first, it seemed like a joke. The house was rotten and beaten down by decades alone in the forest with no caretaker. You had to gut it, exposing every inch in order to fix it properly. You might as well have built a new house entirely, after fixing the plumbing, the walls, the floors, the wiring, and setting up new appliances. The roof still sagged, though, weighed down by a thick layer of moss.

As grotesque as it still looked, you were proud of yourself. Maybe that was why he gave it to you. Or maybe he knew you liked dark and moody things, and your… Addams-esque taste wasn't a secret to anyone. Still, some part of you felt like he wanted you to work for it, to earn the comforts of a home before you could simply rest.

He was the only one who believed in you, in the beginning. Past tense, of course. He, along with everyone aside from Nat, had dropped you quickly after the Blip. They didn't want you around after what you had done.

In your youth, you were wild, uncontrollable like the wind that tore through the valley and uprooted the ancient trees. You watched with wide eyes and smiled as you made ivy choke the telephone poles, or made a tree fall into the house of the kid who bullied you. You'd been called a few things by "experts." An "elemental mage," a "mutant," a "witch." Everyone cared about it far more than you. You didn't want to be a powerful magic user just because you had something like magic.

You could feel life. You could feel and hear the infinitesimally thin threads that connected every living cell to another, every burst of energy that came from the raw materials. Your connection to nature made it more inclined to follow your whims, bending and twisting and growing at your cue. So, what?

You just wanted to live in peace and solitude, away from the overwhelming buzz that being near anyone brought. The feeling of humanity was cacophonous, like a whole big group of children decided to pick up an instrument and just make noise. It gave you a migraine.

Nature was so much softer and melodic, like the birds that sang in the mornings and evenings, or the crows that cawed, and the tree leaves that swished gently in the breeze. Water was especially soothing as the drops fell to the earth so sweetly, even during the most tremendous of storms. A harmony. Maybe that was why you preferred to build up your garden over continuing your renovation. You wanted to encourage that lovely orchestra of life, not invite more obnoxious guests.

The Avengers wanted you to use your gift to help others. You studied anatomy and medicine to try to use your power to heal, but that meant you had to get close to people. After a year of training, you got the hang of healing minor wounds. Then, Tony wanted you to try your gifts using electricity and metal. In theory, it could work. Metal sang in your mind like a Tibetan monk, whereas electricity sounded like an opera singer. Both felt ancient and primal, something you couldn't explain properly because it wasn't so much as a touch kind of feeling or an emotion, but a new sense altogether. It felt almost like instinct.

Anyway, being a magical engineer wasn't for you. It wasn't nearly as intuitive as working with the living. Tony was sure that if you studied physics or engineering the way you did anatomy and botany, you could have gotten the hang of it, but you didn't have the motivation. 

Tony could fix his own damned suits. 

Besides, you were sure that everyone was more curious about what you could do than actually needing you.

Not that anyone really needed you anymore, anyway.

Your thoughts wandered as they often did after the Blip, weaving between the past and the present with no regards to the tears that built up.

Oh fuck, the Amaranths.

You cursed at yourself relentlessly, berating your mind for getting lost again. You blamed Nat a little bit for coming over unannounced, which messed up your full schedule. The most important task you gave yourself for the day, aside from fixing your squash to the trellis, was to tie your amaranths to new stakes. They were bowing under their own weight as they matured, and last time you had attempted to grow amaranths, they rotted on the garden bed when you neglected to keep the foliage off the damp soil. This time, you were going to get a full, bountiful harvest of succulent, droopy amaranths of all different colors and species.

The inner life of your amaranths felt like the heavy, plush blankets you hoarded on your couch in the winter. They were comforting and sounded quiet, compared to the rest of your garden. In that sense, they felt like home. The childlike part of your brain that cried out, "I just want to go home," when the stress of your job broke down your defenses much too quickly was relieved when you sat there, next to the amaranths. 

You walked briskly to the garden shed to grab the stakes, counting them as you loaded them into your arms, but an earth-shattering boom made you drop them. Looking up, you saw a trail of smoke leading from the north edge of the horizon all the way to the south, far past your property into the vast forest beyond. You only had the chance to draw in a single breath before  shrapnel rained down. Pieces of metal of all sizes pierced the ground and sizzled.

Short of breath, and more panicked than you cared to admit, you ran inside and grabbed your phone from the countertop, slamming the basement door shut so vigorously that a new crack formed, joining the others in the old wood.

You took the stairs to the basement two at a time, landing with a thud at the bottom, more focused on calling Tony than anything else.

Did he do this? Was that one of his suits?

You shook that thought away. No, of course not. Why would he fly over like that? Why would one of his suits explode specifically near you?

A more horrific thought came to mind. Did someone figure out where I live? Do they want revenge?

Tony's voice sounded tinny from your phone's speaker. He asked a few questions, probably a, "What the hell is wrong with you?" But, you didn't hear it. With sweaty, shaky hands, you ended the call and looked up, wide-eyed at the door at the top of the basement stairs. You stared at the light coming in through the edges, waiting with bated breath for the light to be blocked by a figure.

After a few minutes of silence, and no disturbances in your home, you went back up to the main floor, the door creaking open as you peered out through the gap. Hearing nothing aside from the ambient energy of the house, you crept outside, checking for the sound of crunching leaves or snapping twigs.

Satisfied that the immediate threat was over, but still alert, you took stock of your property, looking for large parts of whatever the fuck exploded in the sky. Maybe there would be a piece large enough to conveniently have a logo on it, or perhaps parts of an engine. There were plenty of pieces to sift through, but the vast majority missed the house, it seemed. Nothing was identifiable.

Your vegetable garden, however, took a massive beating. With the daylight slowly turning pink, you realized you'd have to wait until morning to salvage what you could, and perhaps even encourage the plants to regrow their lost parts once the initial wave of shock has left their stems. You thought about using the phone that you held with a white-knuckled hand to call Nat. She was probably close enough to have seen or heard the explosion.

Fuck, what if Nat was the target?

A murder of crows cawed and flew away, rustling the flowerbeds at the far end of your garden. As it was a normal occurrence for birds to come and go as they pleased in your more abundant and tasty garden beds, it shouldn't have caused your hairs to raise or your senses to zero in on that section of the garden. But it did.

You felt dread, like someone was watching you. The last time you felt that sensation so strongly that it chewed on your insides was just before the Blip, when—

Wait. The birds are staring at me, you thought. You inched forward, keeping your breath slow and steady as you got closer and closer to the tree where the crows were perched, waiting.

After one slow step after another, you were at the very edge of your garden, where you had been prior to the explosion.

Fuck.

Your amaranths were completely flattened, trod upon like a horse or an elk had trampled through. Absolutely none of it was salvageable.

As you stared at the destroyed garden in exasperation and anger, you hardly registered the frantic fluttering of the crows' wings and shrill caws as they took off.

You were too busy fuming to notice the shadow that bled into your own on the ground just in front of you, before a hand firmly covered your mouth and a second held your left arm in a steel grip.

Your right hand flung up, but the muscles froze before you could do anything.

Warm breath on the back of your neck caused a second, painful round of goosebumps, and then a familiar, smooth voice said, "It's lovely to see you again, darling." They increased the pressure of their hand over your mouth for a brief second, a silent warning. "Now, you are going to do something for me…"

A/N: Amaranths, for those curious, symbolize immortality, and look like this:

[tainoodles]

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