#had to prune it all the way to the ground and treat it every other week for months

[jedi-bird]

So far, I've planted six tomatoes and three tomatillos. I have five more tomato plants started from seed waiting to be transplanted (which will likely be some time with week after the get a bit bigger and I get more soil). I also added some radishes to one of the beds and if I can find a place for it I would like to add a zucchini. Peas and beans never do well in our yard so I'm not going to bother with them; same with carrots. The tribute onion is getting very big and will likely need to be pulled up and divided soon. Sadly though, I found more scale in the yard, this time in the olive tree. I plucked all the infected leaves and sprayed the entire tree with insecticidal soap and spread a layer of worm castings. Going to try and stop this early, otherwise the olive will probably have to go.

[whalesforhands]

it exists only here

geto suguru holds onto your ghost in the trivial silence of the night.

HBD GETO SUGURU

“Geto-sama, you have an audience with an Amano Kiriko and her father in approximately 30 minutes.”

The cult leader doesn’t say a word, the stalk of pink carnation getting nicked a little too close to its petals for his comfort, his pruning shears threatening the beauty of the flora in his hand.

He thought he had it this time.

Now it’s too short. The osmanthus flowers he had spent so much time intricately placing together will go to waste… Dumb rocks and leaves that took way too long to work in harmony with each other. He sighs, frustration coursing through his tensed arms whilst staring down at the already ruined flower despite the beauty it still retained. It just didn’t fit in well with the image he had in mind. So beautiful, yet so useless now.

Should he just redo it? Amethyst orbs follow the stalk up to where it’s now currently being held up to the hanging lamp light, whiffs of its sweet scent reaching his nose as he glares. He ponders and ponders, his eyes closing to savour the fragrance.

So sweet.

“Tell Amaya-san we’re postponing. I’m busy.” Can’t you see how preoccupied he is with this? It obviously takes precedence over some worthless monkey.

A little more suffering won’t do them any harm.

The silence drags, yet Manami Suda does not break the tense stillness any further, does not even correct her superior on his mispronunciation. What use is there for him to remember a mere monkey’s name?

“Understood, Geto-sama. I will move your meeting back by 40 minutes.” She bows low, her gaze kept towards the ground before she turns on her heel and makes her way out, shiny hair bouncing with every step as she makes it a point to close the door behind her as gently, as silently possible.

It seems that her handsome boss is having one of those days again.

A quiet creak of his door and heel clicks that disappear with distance until they were no more.

It’s now that he realizes he’s alone again, silently staring down at the blush pink of the petals in his hand. He twirls the stalk over and over between his fingers as the silence stretches and stretches. It overwhelms him, his thoughts just a little too loud in the blaring quietude.

“Suguru, you don’t look well.” A warm hand against his forehead, your worried gaze and a soft voice. Touch shifting away and making him nearly chase after your comfort.

(Just for a little longer.)

“Have you been eating properly?” You’re sad, lips downturned into a frown that makes him regret ever looking so gaunt— So weak. He wants to placate you, wants to assure you.

“I’m fine—“

“Nope!” An interruption of an all too boisterous voice, lanky arms immediately hooking around both of you as you’re both pulled towards an all too excited Satoru. “So what say we go out and treat him some good ol’ soba?”

His head is starting to hurt again. A grit of his teeth and shears clattering onto the wooden table, frustrated sigh and slumping of his shoulders to ease this tension within his body. He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to feel so… Bad.

It’s only then that his hands reach for the book that was upon the chabudai he sat at, trembling fingers finally making contact with the old paper, the slightly frayed pages easing the stress in his mind, the roar in his ears.

His fingers would trace well-worn, yellowed pages of an all too old shoujo manga, familiar pages that had a noticeable dent in them from how beloved they were by the previous owner. It takes him back, makes his hands reach into traces of the past. Away from this headache inducing present, away from his pain.

“There you are. I bought those famous Kiyoken shumai—“ He freezes in his tracks, his eyes widening and eyebrows raising in shock and worry when he chanced upon your teary gaze, your expression akin to a deer caught in headlights as you look at him with shiny, gemlike eyes and tears that had already spilled, rolling down your embarrassed cheeks.

He takes only a moment to recover, only silently walking forward to plop the plastic bag onto the dining table, giving you a quick once-over before patting your head, as you squeak in stunned surprise, his hand combing down your hair gently before he turns on his heel, steps heavy, quick and a threatening smile upon his face. He starts cracking his knuckles for good measure, his aura flaring into one of intimidation as he gets ready to beat a certain someone up.

“I’ll kill him.”

“S-Suguru— Wait! It’s not Satoru’s fault!” You’re already up on your feet, running to intercept him and grabbing onto his arm, using all your strength to hold him back as you feel your socked feet start to drag across the floor, his strength uninhibited by your attempt.

An innocent, accusatory lilt of his voice as he stops, turning to face you. “Oh? I don’t feel very merciful today—“

“I was crying because of a manga!” Blurted out with a shameful, humiliated voice, your arms hugging his one to your chest even tighter. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your face burns and burns with growing mortification that makes you want to curl up and die and possibility cry even more.

And that calms him down in an instant.

That memory still makes him chuckle, a hand under his chin as his eyes blink at the imagery formed in his head. Mindless flipping of the pages causes him to land on a scene that’s been bookmarked far too many times. He knows this line by heart.

“Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky—“ You sniffle, cutting yourself off and letting Suguru dab the tears treading down your cheeks as you don’t even try to resist, or even pull away from his thoroughly amused self.

“I-It’s just so romantic, okay…?!”

“Hmm?” His smile only seems to grow wider as he leans forth, handkerchief is abandoned in favour of using his thumb, gently tapping at the tears forming again in the corner of your eyes to tease you. “I wouldn’t really know if you don’t finish, will I?”

“B-but I’ll just cry—“ You quickly press his abandoned handkerchief to your nose, a sorry attempt at trying to drag your expressions away to quell the burning shame of having to face him. “Way more, Suguru…!”

“Cry all you want then.” His hand goes to hold your cheek, settling your face in his hand and chuckling as he pats your head, smiling softly, gently, warmly at the way you’re starting to bawl even harder somehow. “I’ll be here to wipe your tears away for you.”

A lock of his hair flitters in front of him, breaking him out of his nostalgic trance as a breeze blows in, as if caressing the strands with tender curiosity. A hand reaches up to thoughtlessly twirl it, amaranth eyes finally opening to bring himself back to reality.

Should he cut his hair soon?

“Suguru, you cut it?!” Satoru holds the boy’s face in his hands, shaking him back and forth and whining his disappointment. “Whyyyyyy?! How could you do that to our beautiful hair?!”

“Our…? Satoru, last I checked it was attached to my scal—“

“No…”

You’re devastated as you sat behind him, fingers slotted inbetween smooth strands that have now been slashed into shortened locks, trampling on your dreamy imagery of his gorgeous hair, your arms hugging around his waist from behind as your face buries into his shoulder to weep for the loss of his beauty.

“Our pretty hair…”

“…aren’t you both being a little overdramatic?”

He feels his heart shake, an ache that yearned to be eased when he opens his eyes to realize that he’s all alone. No matter how far those memories seemed to be, whenever he closed his eyes… It always seemed to be filled with an image of those precious days.

Steadying himself with a sigh and getting up onto his socked feet, he stretches his arms and lets his joints pop.

He should stop thinking about these things.

——

It’s fun.

Geto Suguru is having fun. A stutter in his chest, a fleeting feel in his heart as he exchanged blows. Different from those other students, so similar to that certain someone. Dodging, parrying, summoning, running, bleeding.

So fast. So purposeful in every hit, so unnatural, so talented.

Okkotsu Yuuta was the perfect sorcerer. A curse technique with so much potential, an aura of budding, endless possibilities. Why, oh, why does he still stand with the lesser beings, the lesser race?

His wooden clogs skid across concrete as he stands his ground, a smirk of condemnation and displeasure evident as he spits out a mouthful of blood and metallic ire.

He’ll show him. Show this boy the disparity of their power, the difference in their leagues of playing field as he wipes the remnants of crimson off his mouth, the stinging bruise upon his cheek from where he was bunched pulsating with an urge to destroy. To conquer.

“Cursed Spirit Manipulation: Supreme Art,” A taunting point of his finger upwards, crazed grin upon his face. Bear witness to his overwhelming strength, to his irrepressible supremacy. He doesn’t need anything else when he’s drunk off of power. “Uzumaki.”

Swirling black and daunting shadows form at his fingertip, echos of screams and damned cries of the beasts he’s consumed billowing within.

“Okkotsu,” His face is in a state of a proud, manic insanity, shivers of lustful victory trembling his bones. “I’m glad I could kill you before you managed to fully wield Orimoto Rika.”

This is it. Geto Suguru’s victory, the beginning of the end for this Jujutsu Society. Once this boy dies, he will absorb the Queen of Curses, he will be strong enough to finally change this wretched world for the better.

Would he be satisfied then? Would he finally feel that he’s avenged—

Okkotsu Yuuta doesn’t say a word, a shining determination in his gaze as his back is turned to his enemy, a tentative hand upon the curse that followed him as he called her name. The name of the girl he had known, had loved all this time.

“Rika.” A small whisper into the cursed being’s supposed ear. “I’ll give you everything,” A breath is taken. “My body, my heart, my soul…”

Geto Suguru wants to feel disgusted at the sight.

“I love you, Rika.”

The light hits the silver of the young boy’s ring, metal glinting and catching the attention of the cult leader who was kind enough to let that poor kid say his final words.

“Thank you for always protecting me.” It’s odd, repulsive, Suguru thinks as his ears catch wind of those sugary sweet lines. How warm those words feel, how they’re said with such a bittersweet mirth, how it’s almost like it resembles your—

“Suguru.” Your voice is quiet, your presence a fading comfort as he barely feels it within this empty room.

He feels a phantom warmth, a non-existent touch lightly caressing his cold, gaunt face. A contact that he doesn’t want to let up as his hands reach up only to feel nothingness and an unbearable lurch of his throat.

An aftertaste weighs heavy on his tongue, like a rag that had been used to wipe up vomit. Ringing in his ears as his nose feels clogged, nigh unbreathable. Does it even matter if he doesn’t reply? Will it matter if he tries to will away that distorted voice of yours?

Geto Suguru sees red, sees looming metal doors, hears the thundering jeers of a cult, hears a scream of your name, feels the building terror and anguish of his heart in full.

Feels like he doesn’t know why you’re here now.

Think, Suguru. Why are you of all people appearing right in this crucial moment? What do you want? What are you trying to do? What are you trying to say?

If you had one thing to say to him right now, what would it be?

“Thank you for falling in love with me.”

A sharp intake of air to snap himself out of it, the odd chorus of Yuuta’s voice and yours mixing and mashing up in his head, his pupils dilating and finally focusing back into the battle at hand. It isn’t like him to lose his focus like this. Isn’t like him to get so distracted by a haunting thought.

“Aren’t you quite the player, Okkotsu Yuuta?” His words end on an annoyed growl, a building temper to supplement the forgotten rage in his heart.

But this is what he wants, isn’t it?

“That’s rude.” Okkotsu Yuuta is deadpan, his face set in a tone of utmost sincerity and seriousness.

“This is true love.”

And Geto Suguru wonders if that’s what went wrong as he gets swallowed by an explosion of pink and white.

——

Geto Suguru thought he would at least go out with more grace. A little more flair, in a burst of Hollow Purple or a deep Red.

But not like this.

Not with his back against an alleyway wall, slid down to the ground in pathetic defeat, not whilst he’s missing an arm, bleeding out and searingly painful.

Not while Gojo Satoru stares him down like that in his final moments.

“You’re late,” He just can’t help the smile on his face that forms as his voice traces those beloved words after far too long. “Satoru.”

An exchange of words, their conversation that took place. From the safety of Suguru’s newfound family, to the battle with Satoru’s students… Suguru realizes that what was once his cold, hardened heart was starting to stir with nostalgia, a flutter in his chest that makes him want to get lost in this conversation for just a bit longer; even if the expression on Satoru’s face was blank, empty.

Even if he never smiled at him anymore.

So he takes his time, drawing out each word and sentence and mindless thought that had been churned into a flitter in his stomach that makes him think that it isn’t so bad to be on the losing end.

That it isn’t so bad that this is his end.

And when all was said and done, it goes silent. Comfortingly so in this bitter atmosphere that makes him forget about the stale iron in his mouth and his defeated heart that had nothing left to hide.

It’s hard to say that Geto Suguru was satisfied just yet.

“Do you… Still think I’m a good person?” It’s sudden, a taboo scab nobody, not even Geto himself had wanted to pick at. A wound that never quite gelled over. But— It’s fine because it’s here. It’s fine because it’s right now. Because these trivial, meaningless conversations are what make him feel whole, make him find meaning amongst all his doubt.

“Yeah.” A pause as the honoured one takes in a breath, the squeezing of his palms into tight fists as his glowing eyes begin to soften to shimmery radiance. “I bet she would still think so too.”

That’s not true. Geto Suguru feels, knows it just cannot be, no matter how much his broken heart yearns to believe it. It’s for that reason that he finally lets out a laugh, eyes turning into crescents to match his satisfied smile.

“I killed tons of innocent people, you know?”

There’s no way you would ever look at him the same way.

“You can go and ask her personally, then.” Gojo Satoru sounds so steady, so confident and brazen with his threat; that it sounds like a consolation to Geto Suguru, that it leaves him in utter disbelief at the man’s faith in him, his belief that a damned person like him would ever get to reunite with the likes of you.

Though, it brings him peace in this moment.

“Maybe I will.” It’s his final reassurance, stemming from a hope that he gets to be together with you once more, a last solace for his painful, aching soul in the silence that follows after.

“It’s disappointing, Satoru.”

His eyes blink as he leans his head back against the grimy wall, letting out a breath to soothe the staggering gnawing at his conscience. “That I couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world anymore.”

Not when it turned out like this.

A beat passes, and yet another as Suguru finally feels his body beginning to crumble, vision starting to blur as he starts to see brightness in his dimming eyes. It’s okay. It’s okay now because—

It’s over.

He sees his beloved squat down, coming down onto this pitiful level to meet eyes with him. What is he—

Sincere blue to fading purple, parting lips that start mouthing words that he didn’t think he deserved to hear. He knows that goodbyes are bitter, that he’ll never be ready enough to hear them.

That he’ll never be able to accept that you’re gone.

Yet, even as it reaches into his ears, he didn’t expect the weight, the pressure that makes the tiniest semblance of regret swirl in his heart, slowly realized into a wish that he could rewind time to hear Satoru’s voice that teeters upon a breaking sorrow once more. Just one more time.

“We’ll meet again, right?”

Geto Suguru can only laugh, letting amusement enshroud his expression as his neck cranes towards the light in which his one and only Gojo Satoru shrouded. It’s so stupid, so in character for someone like him.

“At least curse me a little at the end.”

This is how he wants to go. There’s nothing else he wants to long for now… Not the Queen of Curses, not the utter desire to destroy non-sorcerers, not the bloodthirsty revenge and grudge he held against the Jujutsu system— He just wants to feel at peace from the hands of his other half.

This is it.

“Take care of her until I get there.” Wherever you both end up, his final message and blessing from just Satoru to just Suguru. A responsibility given to him that Gojo hopes comes true. All because he hopes it’s peaceful where you both were, that it relieves you both of the hope that made you hurt more.

Suguru’s parting smile is bittersweet, a blush upon his face as enchanting purple finally hide away, finally put to rest with the last of his cursed energy dissipating. A ‘goodbye’ is something he’s no good at, a ‘see you later’ far too unfulfilling. He wishes he could find kinder words as he lets his heart speak his truth, breathed out in a whisper so tender.

“Don’t be late again, Satoru.”

previous next

Notes:

Pink carnations: I’ll never forget you.

Osmanthus flowers: True love.

‘Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky, if you’re with me then everything’s alright.’ - Everything’s Alright from To the Moon (nvy’s favourite game)

[lyledebeast]

The Women at Home Vs The Women back Home in Robert Rodat's War Movies

Since I realized that Saving Private Ryan (1998) was written by Robert Rodat the same person who wrote The Patriot, I've been curious about how the two films would compare, but it wasn't until this past weekend that I finally rewatched the first. I've compared The Patriot to a lot of other vastly less-related things in the interim, probably because Saving Private Ryan was the first R-rated movie I saw in a theater, and I remain scarred by it. The violence, particularly during the landing on Omaha Beach, is so harrowing it makes The Patriot look almost kid-friendly by comparison. That is not the only respect in which Rodat's 1998 film is more grounded in reality than his 2000 one.

When I first connected the two Rodat movies, I vividly remembered the frame narrative of old James Ryan visiting a Normandy cemetery where Captain John Miller, one of the men who gave his life to save him, is buried. At the end of the film, he turns to his wife with tears in his eyes and says, "Tell me I lived a good life." It's a demand, not a question. She, of course, provides the required assurance. Charlotte Selton provides a similar assurance, unprompted, when her brother in law arrives unexpectedly with his children and absolutely covered in another man's bodily fluids. "You've done nothing to be ashamed of." Apart from the fact that Mrs. Ryan actually knows what she's talking about--she has adult children with this man and knows what kind of life he's had; Charlotte was certainly not in the woods when Benjamin Martin took his literal blood bath--the two women play very similar roles. The differences, though, overwhelm the comparison. Mrs. Ryan has spent many years with James, but they are entirely off screen. She only occupies about five minutes of total screen time, most of it observing her husband weeping at the grave of a man she's clearly never heard of. Charlotte's first appearance is about ten minutes into The Patriot's run time, and she is in its final scenes and a number of important scenes in between. She is there, and yet she has roughly the same amount of depth and development as Mrs. Ryan.

Women occupy two different roles in Saving Private Ryan: French victims displaced by the horrors of war that seek assistance and protection from American soldiers and symbols that represent the pleasures of civilian life. A majority of the main characters in the movie have a story involving a woman. One is the carelessly treated victim of a prank Ryan pulled on one of his three brothers killed in the Normandy invasion. Another is the objectified patron of Reiben's family's clothing store. Then there's the hardworking and unappreciated mother of Wade, on whom he calls as he's dying from a gunshot/morphine overdose, a callback to the unnamed American soldier who calls for his momma with his intestines spilled out on the ground during the Omaha Beach invasion. All of these women are individually important only to men who evoke their memories (Ryan's Alice Jardine isn't even that!), but they are collectively important for what they represent.

These stories about women ultimately tell us much more about the tellers than the subjects. For all we know, Alice Jardine is back in America living her best life as a factory worker, experiencing for the first time being regarded as something other than an easy lay, a girl who "fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down." Other stories reflect the men's desires and regrets from the lives they led prior to service. The one that stands out most is Captain Miller's vague description of his wife "pruning roses in my work gloves." Women wearing their husbands' clothing often carries sexual implications, but Miller's wife is her using them to care for something that belongs to her. Even sweeter is Miller's protectiveness of his wife's memory. When Ryan asks to hear more about the wife with the roses after his incredibly sexist story about Alice, Miller declines: "I keep that for me." I get the sense that he's protecting her from more than just Private Pervert. He's protecting her from Robert Rodat, whose only interest in women is what they reflect about men. What else would we expect from America's sweetheart, Tom Hanks?

There is no such protection for women in The Patriot. Apart from Charlotte Selton and Abigale, the two caretakers of Martin's children, all of the adult female Patriots are dead by the end of the movie, most of them in the church fire Colonel Tavington's men set. These women are not relegated to an idealized "back home;" they are the line of defense between the South Carolina militia and the Green Dragoons. it is only after the church burning, far too late for protection, that the militia directs any violence against the dragoons. The French women in Saving Private Ryan are presented as something of a nuisance and do not occupy a main focus, but we see some women displaced by the destruction of their homes walking tiredly alongside the Airborne unit Miller's company encounter, and Caparzo is killed by a German sniper while trying to help a French family by taking their daughter, who reminds him of his niece. The American' GIs do more to protect French women and children they have never met and will likely never see again than the militiamen do to protect their own wives and children. Moreover, the only person in Miller's company who is fighting for vengeance is Mellish, and there is a vital difference between him and the militiamen. Jewish American GIs could not have prevented the Nazis' systemic violence against European Jews.

In both of these films, women have far more value as symbols than as people, but in The Patriot they are part of the main action, portrayed by flesh and blood actresses who spend most of their screentime watching men ride away. There was ample opportunity to make them nuanced characters with hopes of their own for America's future, but Rodat and Roland Emmerich chose not to take it. The most striking similarities between the two films come in their final scenes. Martin watches the construction of his new home with his wife and children standing silently behind him, and Ryan cries over Miller's grave with his children and grandchildren standing silently behind him. Apparently for Rodat, the accumulation of silent women is the ultimate proof of a successful life.

[fcktaken]

End of Year Gardening Asks

On my way home from the garden this afternoon I thought about these questions and I thought why not ask other people as well - so I’m tagging @allthingssoulful, @hilo​ @plantanarchy and everyone who wants to talk about their garden (windowsill, balcony, allotment, farm...). Also, if you are in the middle of gardening season, talk about that! Or keep these questions for in six months ;)

How was your gardening season?

Okay. I enjoyed it a lot, but also I did not spend as much time in the gardens as in previous years. Might have been because of more work, less energy because of covid, less excitement? I definitely did not plan as much as in previous years, but I remember very good days. As every year I am very glad my survival does not depend on the gardens, because that would not turn out very well.

Did you plant vegetables? How did they turn out?

In the city garden we planted less different vegetables, but more of the same ones. Green beans, swiss chard, cucumbers, potatoes did great. Tomatoes were okay. String beans (eaten by slugs), Zucchini (?), and surprisingly salad (sown too late? or maybe early?) did not work.

In the big garden I sowed no vegetables this year, but we had a surprise squash in the red currants. Very pretty, very tasty

Did you plant flowers? How did you like them?

Always. We have the perennials, like roses, asters, daisies and dandelions, primroses, tulips, peonies, dahlias... New was an autumn crocus that I hope will come back. As for annuals there were of course our beloved giant marigolds, the calendula, this year a bright orange garden cosmos.

Did you plant trees or bushes? How are they?

My grandmother planted new currants, black and red, in the big garden. Six out of eight made it, the other two were unearthed by mice. I tried propagating a pear, which did not work. Of course I indulged in my favorite pastime: I pruned my trees and bushes.

What was your biggest project? How did it go?

Probably the propagation, because it was so long term - cutting small branches in January, putting them on the young trees in May, discovering it didn’t work in August. We also had a new ...privy pit (? don’t know the exact word - a closed hole in the ground where the sewage is lead into because there is no sewage system) built, but I couldn’t help because I had covid at the time.

What did really not work this season?

Maybe I’m too positive, but I don’t know... Okay, the propagation, the string beans, the salad.

What worked really well?

The fact that I have these gardens, that I can spend time there, alone and with other people. The communication between all the people enjoying, using, being in, working in the gardens worked very well this year. Especially considering some of the people know each other for almost fourty years now, have complex relationships and some of them rarely talk to each other.

Did your garden surprise you?

Yes. Despite the drought we had so much fruit, especially pears, quinces, raspberries.

What was the biggest challenge?

The drought and the heat.

Anything else you want to talk about?

My girlfriend and I built a moundbed this fall and I am so excited to see how it will work out! Also the pickled green tomatoes are a treat, @allthingssoulful

Favorite picture?

There are people in my most favorites, so here are my favorites sans people: The most photographed views from my favorite places in the city garden (above) and the big garden (below):

[juletheghoul]

Burning Hour (Part 3)

This series has completely taken over my life and I am so happy you are all enjoying it so much - thank you for all of the lovely messages and comments - I treasure them deeply.

So - you shouldn't be surprised that this particular moment on the red carpet absolutely inspired a scene in this story and I regret nothing. Hope you all enjoy this fantasy that's keeping me going lol.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, fingering/touching / slight dirty talk (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4

—

You floated through the morning.

Your dreams were full of kisses, of declarations of love and beskar glinting under the sun and it was hard to concentrate on anything.

You smiled to yourself as you broke your fast with warm bread and butter, feeling his eyes on you from his place behind your father.

“Your highness-” Your father’s advisor came through the door holding the usual paperwork, things for him to look over, letters to read. “-A letter has come for the Princess.” He turned to you then with a smile. He was an old man, grandfatherly and sweet. He handed it to you and you noticed from the corner of your eye Din’s helmet turn towards you.

It was a small letter and you noticed how beautiful the script was as you opened it.

Dearest Princess,

I would be honoured if you were to join me here at my home for dinner. My messenger awaits your response and if you agree, I will send my personal household guard to accompany you. I also imagine your knight will be in attendance, I welcome him and whoever else you choose to bring at my table. Ruby as well of course.

Hoping you’ll say yes.

Ever yours,

Poe. D.

“It’s from Poe, he asks that I join him this evening for dinner.” You were frowning at the letter, conflicted because you wanted to stay home, wanted to meet Din in the garden again. A tiny part of you however, the tiniest part wanted to say yes - wanted to see how Poe would behave. Part of you wanted him to do something unforgivable to wipe the smiles off your parents faces.

“Oh but you must go!” Your father’s voice boomed through the room and you imagined that you could almost hear Din’s jaw clenching.

“Yes my darling, you must go. What does the letter say?” Your mother held her hand out and you handed it to her. She smiled as she read it. “Din, you must accompany her.” She was smiling big, excited at the prospect of a match having been made. No one bothered to ask if you wanted to go.

“Yes of course, let his messenger know that the Princess will be in attendance. She will go, Din- I leave her safety in your hands. Take you who must.” It had been decided for you, and you had to accept it. You felt Mila’s hand grasp yours under the table in understanding.

-

“Which gown would you like to wear your highness?” She asked sadly as you put on your undergarments and you sighed.

Whichever one makes everyone leave me alone.

“Whichever you think would look best sweetling, I have no preference.” You said the words and they were honest. Yes - Poe was charming and sweet, handsome and in another life you would have been faint with excitement at his interest in you but you were in love with Din. He was the one you wanted to share a meal with. He was the one you wanted to kiss in the open - to have holding your hand as you sat together in front of the hearth. He was the one you wanted in your bed.

“How about this one?” She held out a lovely powder blue gown. You would have said no, something more plain but you had to be seen to be making an effort.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t comment on it.

“I will tie a blue ribbon around Ruby’s neck to match, and I think you have some sapphires as well.” She brought over a tray of jewelry for you to peruse while she laced up your gown.

Your mind drifted to an interesting place. You imagined you were preparing for dinner with Din and imagined your knight picking out jewels for you to wear.

Would he prefer diamonds? Would he like me better in opals or emeralds?

You had a feeling he wouldn’t mind either way, but it was lovely to pretend even for a moment. She placed a dark blue cloak about your shoulders and stood back.

“You look beautiful Princess, the blue looks lovely against your skin.” She held up a silvered looking glass and you saw the reflection of a happy woman, although why she was happy - no one could know.

“Thank you sweetling, let's get this night over with shall we?” You smiled at her as you both made your way outside.

---

Din, along with five of his best knights, waited for her to set out for Damerons home. Damerons own household guard waited as well, having been sent to accompany her and he surveyed them. They seemed competent enough, he gave them their space nonetheless.

It was getting more and more difficult to put the future out of his mind - he knew that the Princess would marry at some point, it was her duty as Queen. She might even marry Poe - he knew that objectively they were a good match but his mind simply couldn’t stay objective. Not when it came to her.

This whole thing was moving faster than he hoped and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

You have to face facts Djarin, you’ll never marry her. You are a knight, she is a Princess, there is no place for you. Maybe you should just let her go.

It was in him to do so, to ignore his feelings for her; to find Gisela and ask her to marry him - have a couple of little ones and pray for things to work out. The harsh words to get her to hate him on the tip of his tongue but they evaporated like dew on a sunny day when he saw her come out to meet him.

She was a gem- a bright, glittering thing that he wanted so desperately to hold onto.

“I am ready Sir, shall we?” She smiled shyly and he nodded.

“Of course Princess, allow me.” He guided her into the wheelhouse, dreading and cherishing every single second.

--

The ride was uneventful, the road was quiet thankfully with nothing to see but long swathes of trees and greenery in the gloaming of the evening.

Ruby was napping softly in your lap but woke quickly when you arrived, her little tail wagging happily at the prospect of exploring.

“Yes my little darling - we are here.” She was in Mila’s arms when you pet her, the two of you waiting for the wheelhouse to come to a stop.

Din opened the door for you, he was helping you climb down when you heard Poe’s voice sounding out.

“Princess, I am so pleased you agreed to come-” He was striding over, his squire on his heels. “-I am happy to see you all. Please - be welcome.” He was smiling big at everyone as his guards retreated, no doubt returning to their posts. He crouched quickly to pet Ruby before approaching you.

“Hello Poe, I thank you for your invitation.” You smiled as you took in your surroundings. His home was a beautiful sprawling estate. He must have been wealthier than you thought. “You must give me a tour of the grounds - I would love to see the gardens.” You smiled at him as he offered you his arm.

“Of course Princess, I will show you whatever you wish after our meal - unless you’d like to go now?” He paused for a moment.

“After dinner would be just fine.” You answered as he guided all of you inside.

--

You weren’t sure what to expect about his home when the letter had come in earlier but it was a pleasant surprise. There were fresh cut flowers everywhere, painstakingly detailed tapestries hung up on the walls as you made your way to the large dining room. Lush carpets and plush chairs, truly a man who enjoyed his comforts.

“You have a lovely home Poe.” You smiled as he led you to your seat.

“I thank you Princess -“ He turned to Din and the other Mandalorians waiting by the table. “-Please, sit with us. I meant what I said, you are all welcome at my table.” He gestured to them to sit.

“I do not wish to intrude, we would be happy to eat with the rest of your household guard.” Din replied, his voice was clipped however.

“Nonsense. I insist, I dare say the Princess would be more comfortable if you were to join us.” He said it with an easy smile and Din hesitated slightly before agreeing. They all sat, lining their helmets up before them.

Din barely spoke.

He had never been one for long speeches - you were unsure whether it was because of the helmet, or just his nature. The other Mandalorians were friendlier and Poe took it all in stride. You could see that he took nothing personal and treated them just as he treated you.

Aside from Din’s cool demeanor and Poe’s etiquette, the dinner went well. The food was wonderful and you didn’t fail to notice some of your favourites on the menu.

“I took the liberty of finding out what you like to eat.” He said it quietly, not wanting to draw attention and you favoured him with a smile. It was hard not to like him, he was very thoughtful.

Once the meal was done, he fulfilled his promise and escorted you outside. It was much more open than the gardens back home - everything illuminated by torches and lanterns. There were flowers and neatly pruned shrubbery surrounding the large building. You noticed a stable on one side, as well a modest greenhouse on the other.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re used to but I enjoy it. The kennels are just behind the stables and there are flowers and different fruit trees just to the right there - that’s where they get the most sun. I’m afraid the night doesn’t do it justice, it’s much lovelier during the day.” He was walking you through the grounds, your arm tucked under his as your party followed.

“It’s lovely, truly.” You were sincere and you couldn’t help but look up, the sky awash in stars. “I would imagine you must spend a lot of time out here.” You let him guide the way.

“Not as often as I'd like to, but I try. Perhaps when we marry I’ll make more of an effort.” He said it with a wink and you scoffed loudly but without malice.

“Oh is that so? Well then I suppose I’ll have to change some things around since in your mind I’ll live here hm?” Your tone was playful but sarcastic and you were acutely aware of Din following the two of you.

“Oh yes Princess, I am quite sure. My home is yours and you may do with it what you will. I live only to make you happy.” He was just as playful and as annoyed as you were that he was so confident in your union, it was also aggravatingly refreshing to be able to speak to someone so honestly - better yet for them to respond in kind.

You ignored it, Poe was charming, that’s all.

Much to your annoyance, the night was enjoyable. Poe was an excellent host and it was later than you had originally planned when you set off for home. The woods were pitch black in some spots, it made you anxious to ride in the wheelhouse while the world outside seemed like it didn’t exist. The soft light of the moon doing nothing to pierce through the darkness of the road at times.

Reaching the palace had been a relief and you said as much when you stepped out.

“You should have told me Princess, I would have ridden in it with you - if it would have helped.” He spoke as he guided you inside. You had wanted to, but the temptation of having him so close would have been too much - and as much as Mila knew about your feelings towards him - you didn’t want her to see you kissing him.

You patted his arm in silent thanks and he said nothing else.

When you reached your room you hesitated at the door, wanting him to pull you away somewhere but he didn’t - instead he waited until Mila got in. He took his helmet off and you smiled at the state of his hair. Your fingers itched to ruffle through it.

“Princess, if it’s not too late, I would ask you to join me for a midnight ride.” He waited for your answer and your smile widened.

“Of course! Would you permit me to change quickly?” You didn’t want to ride in such a stuffy gown - as beautiful as it was.

“I will wait however long it takes.” He motioned for you to go and you did - urging Mila to help you once you reached your bedchamber.

“The soft linen dress I think - with the long shift and the heavy cloak. I want to be comfortable and warm.” You changed as fast as humanly possible - all but ripping the jewelry off and within a few minutes you were rushing out the door. The two of you making your way towards the stables as silently as possible.

You watched him work deftly, his skilled hands saddling his horse with ease. One horse, not two.

“Are we to ride together?” You looked at him confused.

“Is this a problem for you Princess? I thought it might be quicker to get us to safety should something happen if we were on the same horse. I could saddle you your own if you prefer - we just wouldn’t travel too far.” He hesitated momentarily and your heart leapt at the thought that he would be holding you so closely.

“I trust your judgment Sir, one horse it is.” You kept your voice neutral and he nodded, finishing his work quickly. Once he was done - he helped you up and pulled himself up behind you. The cool beskar pressed up against your back as his arms reached around you to grab the reins.

Your dress pooled up around your thighs slightly, but your legs were covered by your big cloak but it was exciting nonetheless. You felt exposed, with his proximity it excited you way more than it should have. It felt forbidden, taboo and thrilling to have it feel like he was holding you. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his body slightly but he didn’t complain.

The ride through the forest was quiet except for the sound of the night birds, the crickets and the creatures that prowled at this time. The sound of the horses' steps, the sound of its breathing mixing with yours as well as Din’s. He rode through trees, through the little paths only he seemed to know and after a while you were beside a lake. The soft sound of the water kissing the shore added to the nightsong and you were happy that he had brought you here. He had been silent the whole ride, but you felt him take his helmet off behind you and secure it somehow to the saddle.

“You should know that you looked exceptionally lovely today Princess, blue is your colour.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered. You turned slightly to look back but you couldn’t fully face him, the angle awkward but he kissed you just under your ear to let you know it was okay.

“I thank you Sir, I hoped you would like it.” You leaned back into his arms to tuck your head under his chin.

“You wore that for me? I thought you wore it for Dameron.” His hands came up to hold onto your arms as he pressed little kisses to your neck.

“I always dress for you.” You left it at that, hoping he would understand that despite everything- he was the one you wanted.

“Can I confess something?” His hand came up to slowly undo the cloak tied at your throat.

“Yes, anything.” You answered almost breathlessly, watching his hands open up the cloak to expose your shoulders, the skin of your thighs poking out where the dress had bunched up even more.

“You might think me wicked but, I thought about what it would be like to kiss you.” His hand trailed down as he spoke, rubbing at your thighs over your dress and you watched them in the low light of the moon, mesmerized.

“You’ve kissed me before Sir, you could kiss me now.” You turned a little more but he stopped you.

“I wasn’t thinking about kissing your mouth lovely girl, I was thinking about kissing you somewhere else.” His hands slowly gathered the fabric of your dress, bunching it in his fist - lifting it inch by inch to bare your legs to him. “May I show you where I want to kiss you?” He stopped but you clung onto his arms around you.

“Yes - please show me.” You felt is other hand join the fray and soon he had exposed your lower half to the cool night air. Your undergarments were damp you knew it - the arousal pooling low in your belly at the thought that he might touch you where you most wanted him to. He didn’t disappoint.

His hand trailed up your inner thigh lightly, slowly, up until he skillfully slid it into your undergarments. He groaned deep in his chest when he touched your bare sex.

“Right here. I long to kiss you, taste you here.” His touch was feather light on the lips of your womanhood, slipping along the seam of you. You whimpered, no one had ever touched you here and you felt the slick dripping out of you as you let him explore. “Would you let me Princess? Would you let me bury my tongue right here?” He dipped his fingers low, parting you slightly to dip his fingers just at the entrance - collecting your arousal onto his fingers before slipping them out and bringing them to his mouth behind you. You moaned at the sound of him sucking you off of them and you nodded frantically.

“Yes Din, I would let you - I’m yours.” You moaned the words and his other hand held you in place.

“And I am yours.” He responded before bringing his hand back to where you craved it, this time he spread the lips of your cunt open wide, honing his middle finger on the pearl of your sex. He rubbed tight, slow circles around it and you moaned - trying desperately to open your legs wider. He chuckled darkly behind you.

“Does that feel good Princess?” He turned your face with his other hand, twisting his upper body enough to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, not quite aligned but it sent a shiver of arousal through you and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher- his finger relentless as he sped up a little.

“Yes - Gods yes - it feels so good Din, I thought about you too.” You moaned the words into his mouth. “I think about you touching me like this, when I do it to myself.” He groaned at your confession, his tongue thick in your mouth when he kissed you again.

His finger dipped low to collect more wetness and the glide of it was just right, just slippery enough to send you over the edge and you almost screamed. Your body seizing up with pleasure as your sex clenched around nothing. He cooed into your ear as you rode it out.

“You are intoxicating my lovely one.” He kissed your neck, as he lowered your skirts.

You watched him, blissed out and boneless as he licked his fingers before grabbing the reins again and slowly making his way back to the palace.

-

Mila was snoring softly when you slipped into the room and you were careful not to wake her and as tired as you were from travel it took you a long time to fall asleep. Your heart full of love for Din and a hunger you couldn’t satiate filled your belly. It was a craving for his body, for his kisses, for physical love a woman shared with her husband. You fell asleep hoping - though secretly knowing- that he craved you the same way.

—-

As happy as you were when you awoke the next morning, it was quickly dampened - your father informed you that Poe was to arrive at the Palace as his honoured guest. That he was to stay for a time as a gesture of good will.

You saw right through it.

Your parents had decided that Poe was the suitor they wanted for you and they weren’t being at all subtle.

They informed you with big smiles on their faces, no doubt in hopes of pushing you towards him. It was exhausting - this constant reminder that you would never be truly free to live the life you wanted with Din.

When Poe arrived, he was happy - taking this as a sign that he was winning you over.

“Greetings Princess, I cannot tell you how happy I am to be able to spend more time with you.” He was all smiles and you had no choice but to smile back.

“It will be interesting for sure.” With the way you felt about Din, the intense desire to be around him was at the forefront of your mind. As well as the way Din behaved around Poe, it would definitely be interesting to say the least.

—

Your father invited Poe to dine at your private table, and he engaged him in conversation almost the whole night. They spoke of the future, of how Poe would help rule if he were indeed to marry you. Your mother smiled silently, happy to let the conversation center around the two of you.

Din stood still behind your fathers chair and you wanted nothing more than to pull him to sit with you. To talk to him, kiss him and feed him from your own plate.

“I would want to help people to be quite honest, extend a hand to those that aren’t as fortunate as us. There are people out there starving and that doesn’t sit right with me.” He was honest, to a fault like he said but you admired that.

“That’s very noble of you my boy.” The king nodded.

“It’s very honourable isn’t it my darling?” Your mother smiled at you and you smiled back, nodding around a bite of your food.

“I’m sure the Princess and I could do much and more to help the people who need it the most, if she would let me that is.” He had a shy, genuine smile for you, tentatively reaching over and taking your hand in his. You couldn’t very well snatch it back but you felt Din’s eyes burning into the interaction.

This could get messy.

“Princess, I would humbly ask that you accompany me for a walk through the grounds - chaperoned by your knight of course.” He asked as the remnants of the meal were taken away.

“Oh I’m sure she’d love to join you wouldn’t you sweetling?” Your mother cooed, and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes of course.” You let him guide you, Din following closely behind.

—

“I hope I’m not intruding - I know that the King and Queen are very keen for this to work between us.” He held your hand as you walked arm in arm and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Yes they are aren’t they.” Your tone came out a little more exasperated than you’d hoped but he was well aware that you were not to be swayed by him so easily, you knew he should expect some hesitancy from you.

“I understand that you aren’t impressed and that I am most likely not your first choice. For all I know you might already have your eye on someone else.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at Din. “Regardless of that Princess, I know this must be difficult for you but I beg of you to give me a chance to show you that there is potential here. I believe that in time you might come to love me.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

“You are selling yourself quite hard Poe, I appreciate that you understand that my feelings for you aren’t where you want them to be.” You looked up at him apologetically, expecting him to have a sad look on his face but he surprised you; he was smiling - content to listen to you speak.

“I know, it’s not in you right now but I believe you will see me in a different light. I have faith.” He left the conversation there.

——

It was hard to find time to meet with Din, Poe seemed to be everywhere and his determination seemingly had no bounds.

Your mother found you as you dressed for the day - she had a note from Poe. He was asking you to accompany him into town to hand out some supplies. You couldn’t refuse him, not when your mother had delivered it herself.

“Will Din accompany us?” You asked it offhand, your voice neutral - your face a mask of nonchalance.

“No your father is going on a hunt and Din will be protecting him, there will be other guards with you.” She said it with a shake of her hand as she searched your wardrobe for an appropriate dress. “This will do nicely.” She picked out an off the shoulder, deep berry coloured dress that was not at all practical for a day out in the city.

It would have to do.

-

He had taken you to an orphanage in the heart of the city. There were kids running around of all ages and the older ones ran towards Poe when you entered - recognizing him. He had a big smile on his face as they hugged him around the middle, all decorum forgotten.

“Poe did you bring us anything?” A boy of about twelve years was eager, looking around you to the entourage of guards waiting behind you.

“Of course, brought all of you some good stuff like I always do.” He ruffled the boys hair before he held his hand out to you, you smiled and stepped forward. “I have someone very special here with me today, this is the Princess. Come on over and say hello.” He called them over to you and you saw some of the little girls eyes light up. They flocked to you, asking you if you were indeed the Princess. Asked you if you had a crown, and most importantly why you were there. They were precious.

“She’s here to help just like I am.” Poe answered for you.

A little girl of about six pulled on your dress and you lowered yourself slightly to be at her level.

“Princess, I like your dress, you’re so pretty.” She was smiling at you, her hair was a tangle but her eyes were bright.

“Thank you sweetling, you are much prettier I must say.” You moved the hair out of her eyes and she smiled wide, her little hand clutching at a makeshift cloth doll.

You helped Poe hand out toys and new clothes and there was food for them to eat. You spent the day playing with them and learning about their lives. The women who ran the orphanage knew him and you saw that all of the talk of helping the less fortunate was real, he had already been doing much more than you had ever even imagined.

It was hard to deny the little spark of something that he held within you.

He was handsome, he was kind and smart- funny and generous and with the way his eyes found yours throughout the day; he felt something for you. His eyes were piercing, dark and mysterious and for the first time, he gave you butterflies.

One of the little ones was showing you his space within the building, his bed and his tiny toy horse. He was waxing poetic about how one day he would be a knight. You were smiling at him when Poe stood next to you, his gaze heavy and it sent a flush crawling up your neck to light up your ears.

The fabric at his neck was crumpled and you couldn’t help but reach up to fix it, your arm extended over to him and his gaze focused on it, reached up to hold it to his neck. He placed a delicate kiss to your bicep and pulled you closer. The act was small, but so intimate it did something to you. Melted a tiny piece of you that up until now was frozen to him and he saw it on your face. Felt it in the way you let him hold you close, your arm still around his neck, his hand moving down to hold onto your waist.

The little boy was in front of you now, asking Poe if he would ever give him a real horse and he laughed, not unkindly.

“One day my boy, one day I will give you a horse - only if you promise to behave and be on your best behaviour. Can you do that?” The little boy nodded sagely promising he would. You didn’t pull your arm away, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

—-

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[worstloki]

Okay, this is gettin’ real screwed up here.

I watch a lot of TV. Probably too much. And I’ve seen characters beaten to their knees before, sometimes even with collars. And yeah, there’s usually someone standing over them, and it’s been a woman sometimes. The kind of scene we got in episode 5 of Loki is not new ground.

But here’s the thing. In EVERY OTHER SCENE I can remember like this, the person kneeling is the hero. They’ve been brought down, fully humbled before the sneering villain, and in a few minutes something will happen to get them back on their feet again. It’s usually a tense moment, a “what if they break?” that makes you want the hero to win. You aren’t rooting for, or even liking in some cases, the person standing. You’re cheering for the person on their knees.

This doesn’t seem to be the case with the Loki show. Yes, the viewers may be rooting for Loki, but there’s no hatred for Sif there. She’s not proved herself to be a cold, heartless villain, ruthlessly pounding the hero until all he can do is kneel at her feet.

Except…she did kind of do that. But it isn’t treated as something bad. It’s treated more as something Loki deserved, in my opinion. The show wants us to feel like he deserved to get repeatedly beaten up and told horrible things, just for cutting off a lock of Sif’s hair. I’ll grant, it’s peanuts compared to what happened to him in the mythology. But it’s still bad. Especially since they had him acknowledge it, repeat her cruel words back. They’re playing it off as if Loki is still the villain by himself, and is only good because of other people- Mobius, mostly, but Sif is part of that.

That’s not the way Loki’s character is. In the comics particularly, his biggest arcs are always about reinventing the labels given to him, changing “villain” into something good, something he can use, and doing it by himself. Yes, there’s outside influence, but ultimately Loki is the one who decided to change.

The show is not letting him do that. The show is portraying him as a stubborn jackass who refuses to change until other people show him the light- either with psychological torture presented as therapy, or with beating him up a bunch of times until he gives in. The show and its characters are forcing Loki to become good- they aren’t showing him doing it by himself. He is not becoming one of the good guys, he’s being essentially enslaved by them, and the show is passing it off as somehow all that good influence finally rubbed off on Loki’s cold, villainous heart. That’s why him betraying Mobius was shown as so bad even though Loki barely knew him and had been psychologically tortured by him- Mobius is written as a character who can choose to be good, and Loki is written as a character who must be forced to be good.

And something about an entire show revolving around an independent character being treated as a villain, literally enslaved by the “good guys” (back when the show still wanted us to think the TVA weren’t shady as all hell), beaten to his knees with a collar around his neck until he accepts that he deserves to be alone because he isn’t “good” like everybody else…that doesn’t go down right for me.

The TVA being presented in not just a neutral but often reliable light is something I thought would change once Loki literally called out their propaganda and Sylvie called them fascists, but, for some reason the authoritarian genocidalists are not being presented as a bad thing and it irks me too.

It's especially weird because of the way what Loki claims to have wanted by making choices for people and what Mobius claims the TVA do ARE THE EXACT SAME THINGS, except Loki, until the show, hadn't done that of his own volition and was being tortured during the invasion and is treated terribly for something he didn't even succeed in doing, while the TVA successfully erase events on a mass scale but are presented as having a higher (or at best, - equal) moral ground.

The exact same thing was done in Ragnarok where Loki's "turning point" from a tricksy villainous scoundrel happened because Thor left him frying on the ground and gave him a pep talk filled with lies and general slander about how he could be better - and people see that as good because Thor is framed as a hero, and it's because instead of accepting Loki is a complex character they take what the narrative tells at face value and that is that Loki fights the protagonist(s) so he's bad.

I personally don't like the narrative pushing a character that is canonically an abuse victim and attempted suicide and was tortured right after as someone who needs fixing because he's lusting for power and needs it to gain a sense of control during a retcon which is occurring for the sake of calling him a complete bad guy who needs to change (probably because no actual original character development could be thought of?) after he was just confirmed as queer and colloquially (i assume) called a narcissist because of twisted love.

That he deserves to be alone was presented neutrally as a joke even as he was repeatedly getting beaten to the ground, and then both people he could call friends were removed from his immediate vicinity right after.

Loki isn't being presented as a character that has done a huge mix of good and bad in the movies, he's being presented as an oft incompetent idiot that deserves what he gets because he shouldn't have run away from captors, or he cut Sif's hair, or he killed his mother, or he dared to think he had any importance or could do something good, because the truth is he's an evil lying scourge.

"But maybe," Mobius says, "Maybe he wants to mix it up. Sometimes you get tired of playing the same part. Is that possible? He can change?" And everyone's already forgotten that moments before the mission Mobius said to Loki's face that the TVA has pruned a lot of Loki variants because he's so nice! look! he has hope in him when no one else does! It's also easy to forget the "and hey, if it doesn't work, I'll delete him myself," right after because the guy was smiling through it and the scene is followed by Loki really badly trying to explain the logic of being a trickster who everyone knows is a trickster.

A lot of people payed more attention in Ragnarok than to the other Thor movies so it's not a new retcon and people seem fine with the extremely strange take that 'loki is bad but he can do good sometimes,' because the character is more animated and acts foolish and that's generally more fun for comedy, which is fair for people to prefer imo, people find different things entertaining.

But I do solidly hope the show doesn't go that way though and takes a side with Loki on the narrative stance eventually because I've seen a lot of people who just. miss that the TVA's concept is bad. And those who think they're "reforming" Loki. As if the guy needs anything but a break at this point lmao he only got away from Thanos like 2 days ago please just let him rest for a bit he's a fail villain and it's cringe to have your supposed 1st open queer character get beaten to a pulp by Sif and then put wack sexualizing shots for it too :/

it's like the show itself is trying to sell the angle of "Loki is a villain" and I'm a clown who is still wanting that to be intentional because if it is? It could be amazing and playing with how different parties are framed would be s p e c t a cu l ar and could encourage people to reassess the hero coding in other movies including ones Loki was previously in - but we're reaching the last two episodes and I don't feel like that'll happen.

I feel like even if Loki does reach the end of the show as a transformed person it'll be done leaving the audience with "perhaps you're not so bad after all, Loki," and then also give credit to Mobius or Sylvie or whoever else was involved, simply because as even of yet Loki hasn't taken on a lead role in the show. I'd argue he hasn't really contributed anything worthwhile to plot either. As you've said, he's being shown as someone who needs to change but isn't really motivated to. Aw man they better not make romantic love the reason he wants to change.

[chitsangenthusiast]

ive always seen a zuko oh moment, but can you give me some examples of sokkas oh moment? 💞

i love so much that you asked this bc imo sokka would have several oh moments throughout their relationship 🧡

it happens when sokka finally realizes why he's so worried about gran-gran liking zuko.

he's right in the middle of confiding to his dad, trying to both-sides the situation because "i understand if she wouldn't. i don't think i would either if it hadn't been for going with aang and actually getting to know what he's like—but, dad, i just feel like he's similar to katara enough that she could come to like him, right? i mean, gran would appreciate how straightforward he is—he's so determined too, she'd love that, and i have gran's humor so he'd definitely find her funny and would totally put up with her picking on him, and—"

i want to see him spend time with my family. i want to see his first time trying gran's signature dish with freshly-caught sea prunes. i want to see what his smile looks like when it's snowing.

and i just want to see him.

and i really want him to visit more often.

"and—" sokka feels a little faint as the weight of this revelation makes its home into his heart. "and—oh."

"i do like him, you know," hakoda says, carefully casual when sokka stays quiet for a beat too long. they had been looking at each other when it happened, and so he got to watch the way his son's eyes widened with a new sparkling wonder before sliding to the ground in a daze—and how his face suddenly flushed, probably in embarrassment and possibly even wary excitement.

hakoda doesn't try to catch his eye, but he does make sure his voice is strong enough to break through the obviously raging whirlwind of sokka's mind. "and i have a feeling your gran will too, son."

(she does. because sokka's right, it is incredibly fun to pick on zuko.)

—

the thing is, it never really occurred to sokka that these kind of revelations don't always have to be big occasions reserved for special things—like realizing you like someone, or realizing you want to marry them. sometimes, those little oh moments can just be sweet reminders of how much you love someone, which means he's somehow always caught by surprise every time the next one happens.

(some of those little moments do feel pretty monumental to him though.)

—

he's not expecting the second time to happen so quickly—or at all—but zuko apparently thought he was impervious to the cold or something and his clothes aren't as heavy as they should be. katara ends up giving him one of sokka's old coats ("stop pouting you didn't even make this one!") and—

zuko has a tendency to put his hood down and forget to put it back up, despite how cold it is outside, and eventually sokka just starts fixing the hood himself before tucking any loose strands back behind his ears, so that zuko doesn't have to keep batting any flyaways out of his face.

they make eye contact once, after the fifth time, and for some reason it startles sokka enough that he feels he needs to explain.

"uhm—" oh. zuko looks nice in sokka's old furs. his smile is also nice. "sorry—ears. don't wanna lose them, you know."

zuko just rolls his eyes, and lets him keep going it for the rest of the trip.

—

when they get together, sokka didn't think zuko would be big on pda—but apparently it turns out he's the pda king. he has no problem with draping his arm over the back of the couch to give sokka the opportunity to lay his head on his shoulder, or to give sokka a quick kiss before heading off to his next meeting, regardless of who's around. sokka's pretty sure zuko doesn't even think before he does it, and that it's somehow just a natural thing for him to do, except sokka isn't really used to being treated like this, and it takes him awhile to get accustomed to it.

until one visit, when his afternoon is free but zuko's isn't, so he chooses to go laze by the turtleduck pond to work on an upcoming lecture (read: nap).

zuko's stomps are more like little thumps as he stalks over the grass, but all sokka needs is one whiff of that crackling frustration to know it's time to open his eyes.

"was it minister chen?" he asks. things have improved over the years, but that doesn't mean that politics have stopped being politics.

"it's always minister chen," and sokka figures it's good this courtyard is private because zuko never has any issues with being loud when he's annoyed.

"figures. so are you here to hold a turtled—"

sokka doesn't get to finish his question before he's being semi-gently pushed forward and away from the tree trunk he was leaning against, before zuko swiftly shoves himself into the scant space to sit behind him.

there's barely any room for him, and sokka doesn't have to go far to lean back against his chest as zuko wraps his arms around his waist—it happens instinctively, sokka realizes. he had moved to be held without a second thought, and the thought makes him drop his head back onto zuko's shoulder in quiet surprise.

"no, wanted to hold you," zuko grumbles heatedly, but the kiss he drops onto sokka's cheek is incredibly soft. he then peers down at the papers still in sokka's loosened grip, and snorts. "are you working on the ba sing se university presentation? i didn't realize you had already gotten the data or whatever from that project. what'd you find?"

and oh. oh, sokka realizes that he's never going to be able to let zuko go.

—

zuko doesn't get a betrothal necklace right away, partly bc he's the one who proposed first, and partly because it's not really a prominent swt custom again just yet.

(sokka instead gifts him a handmade hunting knife to replace the one he lost on their last camping trip, bc thoughtful practicality is what he grew up with, and seeing zuko's obvious excitement over it is all sokka needed to send him into full-on wedding planning mode.)

instead, zuko gets a necklace for their first anniversary after the idea of it grew on sokka, and—oh, the first sight of his husband wearing the necklace sends him falling in love all over again <3

[kstewdeux]

@inukagfluffweek

August 14, 2021 - Family

Sure

Summary: Inuyasha & Kagome discuss starting a family

“Knee,” Kagome whined softly as her foot prodded her husband’s leg so it would go where she wanted, “Knee Inuyasha.”

With a tired sigh, Inuyasha slid his foot up until it rested comfortably against his thigh and adjusted his hips so falling asleep in that position wouldn’t make him lock up. It was a tried and true ritual. One that he didn’t mean to perpetuate but Kagome was always the last one to go to bed. Always. So by the time she changed and brushed her hair and washed her face and did whatever else she felt inclined to do, he was typically asleep in a position he found comfortable. Kagome told him he slept like a vampire but having met and fought vampires Inuyasha had no idea what she was talking about. Besides, he didn’t know why it had always seemed to matter how he slept. Sitting up had just been how he’d done it for over a hundred years and even though three years had gone by, he still wasn’t used to those while laying down business. Having a body trained not to move wasn’t ideal for laying down and he usually woke up stiff. His muscles locking up for absolutely no reason out of habit. Sitting up, having muscles that locked was useful. Not so for how the rest of the world went down for the night.

Still, Kagome slept laying down. Always had. Always would. And he planned on sleeping next to her for the rest of her hopefully long life. Which killed the monk. Even occasional overnight exorcisms were out of the question. Sunup to sundown only.

“That better?” he yawned and Kagome nodded against the arm she was using as a pillow while Inuyasha’s hand absently played with tendrils of her hair.

One of the things he liked best was that in this position he could feel her ribs expand with each breath and the steady rhythm was soothing. Every couple found a sleeping position that worked for them it would seem and with his primary issue being hardwired survival anxiety, a cuddling position where no backs were being exposed worked best.

Problem with this position was that it’d make co-sleeping with an infant dangerous. Not that…that they were trying or even planning on having brats. Hell, they’d never spoken about it but by some unspoken understanding, they’d been careful. Kinda. Sometimes. Okay, fine, mainly they’d been whinging it and been lucky as hell.

But…you know…maybe one day…

Lips twitching upward, Inuyasha allowed himself to imagine what their own puffy blob of flesh would look like. Newborn babies…well they weren’t exactly the cutest things in the planet. More they looked like boiled prunes - both in color and looks. And the screams. But once they hit a few months old they definitely started looking more like tiny people and you could start seeing the parents. From a strangers perspective anyway. Miroku’s twins had always looked identical but they went through phases and who they favored depended on which parent was standing closest….

God he hoped whatever they had one day - not that he was even sure they’d have babies - was a girl. He’d make a decent looking boy or girl. After all, minus the coloring, he looked just like his mother who had been very pretty. Kagome…Kagome would only make a pretty girl. Sota sure as hell didn’t look like her though so maybe there were some okay looking boy genes in there but Inuyasha for the life of him could not imagine what a Kagome-looking boy would even be.

Nah. If they did one day have a…

“Why you purring?” Kagome hummed bemusedly in such a way that left him powerless to stop said noise. A noise that he’d only discovered he made since she fell back into his life. At first it bothered him that she called the chest growl thing a ‘purr’ but seeing as how he didn’t have a better name, he just rolled with it.

“Dunno,” he laughed softly.

“What were you thinking about?” Kagome hummed as she slowly and awkwardly began trying to roll towards him - something which had the purring noise stop immediately. It didn’t matter that his brain knew they were safe and there was no need to worry about being exposed. His body though….was hard wired to worry.

She froze.

“I didn’t…”

“S’not the question. It’s the stupid back thing,” Inuyasha reassured her wearily before running one hand over his face, “Look, I was thinking about us having kids, alright?”

The slow smile that bloomed on her lips as she sat up brought the soft purring sound back.

“And what were your initial thoughts?” Kagome asked curiously and the purring sound intensified.

“How newborns look like meat sacks,” he offered as he stretched his legs out and yawned, “And how they’re loud. And obnoxious. And how they shit everywhere…”

“Ah but said things made you happy,” Kagome observed and shrugging, Inuyasha didn’t deny it. Couldn’t anyway given the vibrations rumbling from his chest. Well, that was what they assumed it meant anyway. Could be he was dying or something. Wouldn’t that be the final kick in the balls.

“Thinking about it and living it are two different things. Reality is I’d fuck them up,” Inuyasha countered with an ill-checked half-grin, “You’d have to go around fixing them all the time.”

“You’d be a good daddy,” Kagome soothed as she lay back down and stared up at the ceiling - allowing Inuyasha to fully relax by covering her back. She never really thought of Inuyasha as the anxious type but apparently that was his secret to surviving so long and once they’d figured it out and pinned down his triggers to better avoid them, he’d actually been significantly less…grumpy. In fact, he could be downright pleasant most of the time.

Miroku and Sango had told her on more than one occasion that Inuyasha seemed, at times, like a completely new person. In public, he was still by and large snippy and obstinate but among friends and in private, his natural state of being sans anxiety was much more Kagome-like than any of them previously believed. Looking back, he had always seemed to find comfort in being around others but he was never what anyone would call sensitive or attune to emotional needs of others. In recent months, however, he’d been surprisingly observant, kind and gentle.

Well, actually it wasn’t all that surprising. The gentleness yes but the rest of it? No. Every time one of them lost it during the quest, Inuyasha was always the one who stepped up and did exactly the right thing to bring his friends’ minds back to center. In fact, his brand of abrasive encouragement was what saved their souls from being devoured by the moth demon’s trap. Whenever any of them felt like giving up, Inuyasha had been the one to encourage them to keep going. In some ways Inuyasha was so forgiving it was beyond understanding. For all his insults and for all his aggression, Inuyasha could be…damningly gracious. Kikyo being, well, Kikyo. Sango stealing his sword. Miroku trying to kill him. Shippo pulling trick after trick. None of those things ever drove him away.

That wasn’t to say Inuyasha didn’t get irritable or react poorly when said things happened but he did tend to let things go eventually and truly act like nothing happened. And his brand of love was protection and providing so there was that too.

So maybe it wasn’t all that surprising that being kind and gentle was his calm state of being. Now that he was more comfortable and no one was in imminent danger of dying a horrible, painful death; now that Kagome had been returned to him and everything worked out, how his natural being manifested was different was all.

But his anxiety still did rear it’s ugly head on occasion. New things. Unexpected things. Any slightly uncomfortable thing and he’d instantly snap his abrasive behavior back into place. There were also his triggers of course but those could be negated.

For example, he never slept with his back exposed and now that Kagome was, sorta, an extension of himself, his body decided to make him skittish at night if she too was left ‘open to attack.’ Not fun for anyone involved - the amount of twitching alone had kept them both awake until they figured out the issue.

“Don’t know how to be a father,” he sighed sadly - the purring sound grounding to halt, “So maybe…maybe kids isn’t something we should do. What…what if I hurt them? They won’t be like me. They’ll be mostly human. I’ll be too rough.”

“No because of that fear, I imagine you’d treat them like they might shatter,” Kagome pointed out and with that, Inuyasha reached over to intertwine their fingers.

“I could turn one day. You…or they might get hurt and I’ll make it worse,” he offered in a small voice, “I’m dangerous. I shouldn’t…and what if they can���t control what I give them? What if they’re born and…and they’re just like that all the time?”

Turning her head to look at his defeated face, Kagome sighed and waited for him to look at her. When he did, the worry mixed with longing made her heart ache. He wanted kids. That much was clear from his expression as was the fact that he didn’t trust himself.

“Inuyasha, I always bring you back, don’t I?” she pointed out and with a faint nod of acknowledgment, her statement seemed to soothe some of the anxiety that needed checking, “And our baby will be part me too. So it’ll have both….”

“It could purify itself. Hurt itself,” he countered shakily, “And we’re happy just the two of us. What if I’m a bad father and you end up hating me? What if it ends up being a mistake? Ruins everything?”

“I will never abandon you,” Kagome promised as she brought his hand up to her lips and gave his thumb a quick kiss, “Never.”

A nod and a relieved sigh. Like he knew that to be the case but wanted to hear it anyway. There was still some tension though which meant his fears hadn’t been addressed completely and so Kagome waited for him to continue. It had taken a few months but anymore he discussed everything with her. From feelings to fears to his past. The only thing off the table was Kikyo but that was more her hang up than his.

From his perspective, he found himself much lighter when he heard her opinion rather than just imaging what she was thinking. His inner monologue was usually depressing and rather cruel. Always assuming everyone hated him or was upset with him in some way. That everyone thought the worst. How he needed to receive love was verbal affirmations. Kagome would’ve thought it was touch but she discovered words were much more effective. What would’ve happened if she just told him back then how deeply he was loved? But, alas, she didn’t and it didn’t matter. In fact, that would’ve been worse. What if he achieved this and then had her taken away?

“I mean, do you want kids? You’ve never really said…” Inuyasha asked wearily and Kagome knew if she said yes, he’d do whatever she wanted. Even if it terrified him.

No. This needed to be his choice. His decision.

“What do you want?”

For a long moment, he was quiet before he swallowed and closed his eyes.

“I think you want them,” he answered evasively before pulling up one knee and fidgeting slightly, “And I don’t know. I want…I want, you know, the type of things Sango and Miroku have with their brats. And what I had with my mother before she got sick. I want someone to…to…you know, there’s just some type of connection. I…I wouldn’t mind being a brat’s person.”

“Their person?” Kagome asked curiously and Inuyasha let out a long sigh as he swayed his knee.

“Like…like you know they’ll take care of you. You scrape your knee. They fix it. You get hungry, they give you snacks. You get sad and just…just they….,” Inuyasha floundered before seemingly choosing a word to describe what he meant, “A helper. I wouldn’t mind being their helper.”

“You’d be the best helper,” Kagome sighed affectionately and Inuyasha eyes fluttered open.

“You really think so? I don’t have the…the warm thing going…”

Nodding, Kagome gently rolled onto her side and scooted her back against his torso. Like clockwork, he assumed their former position and sighed contentedly.

“You…” she belatedly started to address his comment but he was already off to the races.

“I could work on that though. You know, with the twins,” Inuyasha opined hopefully - like he was trying to convince her that he could be a good father and encourage her to say yes, “See…see if I could get better at the whole…whole warm thing. I bet I could get the hang of it in a month or two. I mean look at how fast I mastered Tessaiga. You wouldn’t have to worry about…about me scarring the kid.”

“That has never been a concern,” Kagome chided affectionately earning a frustrated grunt. Oh yeah, he was trying to get her to just make the decision or convince her to just agree with his decision. A decision he’d clearly already made.

“Inuyasha, I know you’d be a great daddy,” Kagome finally yawned - earning a faint blush, “But don’t push yourself just because you think I want this. I only want babies if you do too. I’m honestly okay either way.”

She felt him inhale deeply.

“I think…I think I’ll see if…if I can do the warm thing then we can decide,” Inuyasha hummed before adding hesistantly, “I think I can do it but I wanna be sure.”

“I…”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I could do it,” Inuyasha continued to think out loud, “But I just want to be sure, ya know? And I want you to be sure I’m good for it.”

At this, Kagome laughed softly despite herself - the hand by her head sliding up to cup his. Curling her fingers between his fingers, she pressed her fingertips against his palm.

“I know you can do…”

“J-just think about it,” Inuyasha interrupted shakily as he gave her hand a light squeeze “A-and I’ll think about it. And we can…talk about it when we’re sure.”

The miko grinned and replied with a soft laugh, “Sure.”

“Will you be mad if I…I think about it and say no?” he asked hesitantly and Kagome shook her head - making some of the tension seep out of him. For a long time, he was quiet and Kagome was just about to pass out when she heard his voice - small and timid - whisper those three little words he didn’t say that often.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. You show me all the time,” she affirmed and with a timid half-smile, Inuyasha flexed his hand ever so.

“Just want to make sure you know…”

“I do.”

“And you still love me, right?”

“Always.”

“Okay. Just want to make sure…”

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

How I Would Incorporate Sigyn in the Loki Series: Episode 6

Loki x Sigyn Masterlist

Episode 5

Summary: These are my on going rough notes on how I would incorporate my version of Sigyn into the Loki Series. I makes these notes as each episode airs so changes are bound to arise. Just thought it would be a fun experiment.

Resolved: Sigyn goes with Loki and Sylvie into the point beyond the void

She arms herself and the three of them enter the citadel ready for a fight

Sylvie is obviously all for just killing Kang, but Sigyn holds back like Loki, wanting to see how this all plays out

Kang monologues for admittedly most of the episode, so Sigyn sits tight listening patiently in silence

Here's where I'm thinking of changing things

When Kang says "we're all villains here", he makes a point to include Sigyn calling her "a liar and a murderer"

It's then Kang reveals Sigyn has been lying about her nexus event the entire time

This Sigyn didn't get taken by the TVA because she refused Loki's proposal; she was pruned because she killed her Loki

Loki and Sylvie are in shock

Sylvie is quick to say Kang is a liar, but Loki is less sure

I'd have to go back and put in more hints to her more violent and desperate attempts to leave the TVA; also put an emphasis on how she opposes Loki and wants to burn the TVA to the ground

Mobius isn't the one who recruited her? Renslayer did and gave Mobius an alternative file on Sigyn as ordered by the "Time Keepers"? Workshop it later

Sigyn than says that Kang is telling the truth

Her backstory is actually much closer to her comic counter part. Loki didn't just trap Theoric temporarily in another realm, he did have him killed, took his place and tricked Sigyn into marrying him.

Sigyn was the used and abused by her Loki, treating her like a complete doormat to trick and discard as he pleased until one day she had enough and stabbed him through the heart

This obviously causes a rift as while Sylvie didn't fully trust Loki, she was starting to truly trust Sigyn

Loki meanwhile thought this was his chance to make things right with her only for the rug to pull out from under him

Kang then presents them with a choice; let him die and risk something worse taking his place or rule in his place

Sylvie is team kill him

Loki is unsure

But Sigyn wants what she's wanted from the start; for her life to be her own. She wants to rule.

She believes Kang when he says there will be another battle for the multiverse and that leaves them only two options: either they either rule together or she takes control

She knows Sylvie won't give up on her chance for revenge, but she has a chance to convince Loki

She offers for them to rule together; it is a lot to watch over, there's a reason Kang brought all three of them there as opposed to one. She tells him she meant what she said, he is a better man than the one she knew and she is starting to care for him.

This only makes Sylvie more resentful as she feels she can't trust either Sigyn or Loki

Three way battle ensues

Sylvie tries to kill Kang, Sigyn goes to defend him as well as Loki, but while Sylive hesitates with Loki she's more than ready to kill Sigyn

They fight, but two against one leaves Sylvie on the floor

Sigyn moves to finish the job, but Loki steps between them

He tells her that he knows she better than this; he's seen her at her best and knows this isn't who she truly is. She has always been the better person, in every reality. He apologizes for her other self and for failing her so many times. He asks her to stop and think. Together they can find another solution.

Sigyn stares at him for a long while, before saying, "I think you mean that. But I'm not her."

She then pushes him through the portal sending him to the TVA which leaves her and Sylvie to duke it out

Sylvie by this point gets back to her feet, readying herself for a fight

Sigyn makes one final offer; go in peace and she will give Sylvie her own timeline, one where she can be happy, one where she had her brother and mother and a lifetime of happiness. She is the Goddess of Loyalty after all. She's not cruel.

Sylvie spits back that she's just as bad as her and Loki; she wouldn't be surprised if she actually was one of them

This enrages Sigyn and they fight

Sylvie gets the upper hand this time and is able to stab Sigyn in the side

She moves to finish the job, but hesitates; this gives Sigyn time to gets hold of the TemPad and teleport herself out of there to some unknown location

Season 1 ends with Sigyn on the lam; we'll see where she is in Season 2

Some Possible Dialogue

"He killed my fiance," Sigyn said bitterly. "He then disguised himself as him, tricked me into marrying him and after all was said in done I defended him because I thought he loved me. But he never did. I was just his play thing to be used and thrown in the dirt as soon as he was finished. I had no choices. I was losing myself. Bit by bit, year by year I wasted away until I was nothing more than an insect living in fear of being trampled. And then one morning, I woke up and decided I had to do something.

"I took his knife and while he slept, plunged it into his heart. The look on his face...I don't think he believed he could die. But he did. And for the first time in centuries, I was free. For all of five seconds."

————————————

"No, you're not listening. Neither of you are listening to me!" With a scream golden light pulsed through the room forcing the them back as well as the furniture.

Loki stared as the power visibly coursed out of Sigyn's body. For the first time in his life, a stab of fear went through him at the sight of his wife. She was even more powerful than he could have imagined.

————————————

"Sigyn, stop! This isn't you!"

"You of all people do not get to tell me who I am!"

"You're right. But it doesn't meant I don't know you. Please Sigyn, you don't want to do this."

"Get out of my way."

"No."

"Loki," she warned, raising her sword. "Get out of my way."

"You're not going to use that," he said, calmly. "If you were, you would have done it by now. I'll even make it easier for you." He took a step forward, allowing the tip of the blade to rest just above his heart. All it would take was a small push.

Sigyn gritted her teeth, taken hold of the blade with both hands, her body tensing to strike the final blow. But she hesitated. She simply stood there the tension in her body never leaving as she tried to force her body to move forward. Tears of frustration and pain leaked from her eyes, but still the blade never moved.

"It's alright," Loki said softly. "We'll find another way. There's always another way. You're more than this."

"Stop!" she snapped. "Stop saying things like that. Stop pretending that you know me. You don't! You can't."

"But I do. I know you're better than this. You've always been the better person."

————————————

"Goddess of Loyalty?" Sylvie spat. "Loyal to who? You've only ever been loyal to yourself. Right from the start. Loki may believe there's something more inside you, but there isn't. You're just as selfish as either of us. It's a wonder you're not actually a Loki."

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

...imagine idea for a (Y/n) Variant...

This (Y/n) came from a universe where she has destructive powers,((Kind of like Scarlet Witch but don't control reality and such)) because of that Odin took her as his "Daughter" when truly he wanted to keep her under his watch and control. Except for Frigga and Thor who treated her truly as a family, a daughter and a sister.

As (Y/n) grew older she felt suffocated because everywhere she went there was a guard or maid around her to keep eye on her for "Protection" when it's just Odin wanting to keep her at bay watching every step she took. At some point, (Y/n) goes to Frigga and tells her of how sue felt, he mother having sympathy helps her sneak out of the castle by creating an illusion of her broidering with her.

(Y/n) doesn't waste time to make here way to the market among the people who barely knew who she was, because they don't go to the castle and she switched from her Royal clothes. She ended up in a local library enjoying the simplicity of it. That's when she met Loki.

Loki is a simple Asgardian who works in the library, and when he saw (Y/n) browsing around he didn't waste time to go to her and introduce himself as well as offer his help. (Y/n) doesn't take the offer but Loki stays around and starts speaking complement to her, of her intelligence at the choices of books she took, of her beauty whenever she looked at him.

(Y/n) weirded out because no-one has ever spoke to her like that before, for a moment she suspected that he might know who she was, but he didn't. He was genuinely interested in her. And that's how the secret meetings started.

Every now and then she would meet him to go on dates that he has prepared, and it was a bit Easier thanks to Frigga's help. They went on walks, picnics, simple restaurants, or just set in the library and enjoy the silence with each other companies. One day (Y/n) sneaked out to meet Loki for a picnic but was shocked to find him on a top of a tree. He wanted to bring her a fruit that she said she never tried before, he slipped and fell but before he could touch the ground (Y/n) used her powers to stop his fall before slowly putting him down.

Loki was shocked and asked her about her powers, that when she confessed of who she was and what was her power. (Y/n) was afraid that he will be terrified of her like most people do. But he was fascinated, by her power and by the fact that his lover was the powerful princess (Y/n). That day was spent with Loki asking her questions about her powers, and showing him what she can do.

Learning that his lover was the princess, Loki worked very hard to be in the castle, and he did. He was the assistant librarian, which made his meetings easier since most of her time was spent in the library anyway, so she was sure Odin won't notice difference in her routine. Centuries past with then being together, they were truly in love so it was inevitable for Loki to get on one knee and ask for her hand.

(Y/n) overjoyed by this but also terrified because in order to marry the man she loved she has to face Odin and ask for his blessings. As she based in her room planning on how she was going to tell thor and Frigga first so she could have someone to aid her in case Odin tried to reject her. A maid knocked on the door saying Odin asked for her along with het mother and brother, (Y/n) was planning to take the chance and tell them all after Odin made his announcement of whatever.

She didn't expect Odin to declare her and Thor's engagement. Least to say, everyone was shocked, even Frigga who obviously was consulted to that decision, and Thor who was a look of shock and disgust, because he saw (Y/n) as a sister not a wife. Everyone tried to object and reason with him but Odin was unfazed saying how (Y/n) was groomed for years to be Thor's wife and as his eyes met hers she understood.

Odin wanted her to marry Thor so he can have even greater control over, he KNEW of Loki he knew Everything!. And that wad he cue to run away.

(Y/n) told Loki of what happened how they will never be happy. But loki then confesses that he had found a way to get out of Asgard without heimdall or Odin's knowing. (Y/n) was touched by his offer to escape together, that he is ready to leave everything behind for her, and so they plan their escape. While everyone was busy preparing for a wedding (Y/n) was hatching a plan with loki yo escape.

Everything was perfect, they both had everything they needed, everyone was too busy to notice them, Loki provided a ship for easy escape. Everything was perfect indeed. Until (Y/n) was summoned to the throne room and saw her Loki's dead body on the floor still tied up in chains as he was under a trail. It appears that he was accused of being a traitor to Asgard that he was found middling with the enemy, which everyone seemed to believe, even Frigga and thor.

(Y/n) was in too much shock by what she saw, she was a prisoner of Odin all her life, being kept under watchful eyes and refused any connection or friends or lovers, having only Frigga and thor who even they didn't help much to ease her silent suffering. And when she finally had someone who wanted her for herself, not her power or title, who loved her truly as a person, someone who wasn't controlled by Odin or would follow him against her.

Here is where the TVA comes.

(Y/n) was meant to break into a chaotic rage, killing everyone around her, forcing thor to stop her, she would be imprisoned and then broken out, in short, she would have ended up being Thor's Enemy who wants to kill odin and Asgard. But she didn't, she confronted Odin and told everyone that Loki was her lovet and Fiance, that Odin kne of their relationship which lead him to force her to marry thor, but when he saw that that wouldn't stop her he killed the one who was going to take his personal weapon away.

The TVA comes and takes her away before resetting the time line, and prune her to the void. In their (Y/n) have went insane because she wasn't meant to be happy and uses her powers to make an somewhat illusion of her Loki still there to comfort and love her. Her power is the only one strong enough to fight Alioth, not kill but keep him away.

---

A silly au of a Variant that I wanted to share.

[eirikaanemo]

Heavy Is The Crown

Warnings: None

Venti x GN!Minstrel!Reader

3.1k Words

Venti's a servant boy at the palace that you fall in love with... right?

You’re the apprentice of the renowned Minstrel Chapman of the Riverside Performers Company. And recently your company was invited to go perform at the palace for the royal family of Mondstadt. It’s understandable really, they probably need some joy and relaxation in their lives considering the difficult war that is waging on. Of course, you’re one of the few to see it that way.

“People are dying on the battlefield every day, and the King and Queen want to make merry?” Archibald scoffed. “Peace, Archibald,” Grisela soothed. “This war is difficult for them as well.” Archibald scoffed again but chose not to respond further. These sorts of discussions were common now-a-days, and a gap of misunderstanding and hurt is starting to grow between the rulers and their people.

This really concerned you because you’d once known the son of a Baron and he had explained these sorts of difficulties to you. Your goal was to try and help bridge the gap. Since Master Chapman has charged you to write a song yourself for the royal performance, you have decided to write a song that could help with that. But the problem is that you have no idea what to write! And you’re running out of time.

When your company reaches the palace the next day, you are no closer to having written the song than you were before. Thankfully you all had arrived at the palace a couple days early, so you still had some time to come up with your song. However, you were feeling so nervous that you couldn’t even focus on trying to compose it at all.

So you decided to take a break and wander around the palace grounds, as you and your company had been invited to do when you arrived. As you did so, admiring the beautiful flowers and bushes of the garden, you ended up running into someone. Literally as in one moment you were standing up, and the next you were sitting on the ground clutching your head.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” someone apologized to you. “I should’ve been better about looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Peeking up, you see a servant boy with black hair in braids with teal tips and a flower tucked behind his ear. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assure him. “A little stunned, but I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” He asks worriedly. When you nod he breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear, Head Maid Maribel would have my head if I hurt a guest.” You smile and laugh a little. “Well we can’t have that,” you tease. “I’m sure you look much nicer when you have your head on your shoulders.” He stills for a moment from his fiddling from a moment before, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Spluttering some, he manages to squeak out, “Oh, um, thanks?” You look at him oddly. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever teased you like that before,” you say. “I, um, won’t tell you then.” He jokes, calming down some. You smile some and give him a wink, “Well, I’m honored to be the first then.”

“Oh!” He exclaims. “I need to be pruning some bushes right now.” Your smile drops a bit, you’d been hoping to spend some more time with him. Noticing that, he adds on, “Would you like to come along? We could talk more while I prune.” You easily agree, “I’d like that very much, thank you.”

More confident now that he had something to focus on, he continued to make small talk with you. You introduce yourself and the two of you get to know each other better; he is ecstatic to know that you’re a minstrel and play the lyre. “I’m learning to play the lyre too!” He declares. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You smile at him, happy to know that you have that in common.

“I would like that! But,” you admit, “unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now. My master has told me to write a song and I’m struggling to get it out. With the war going on, I want to write a song to help bridge the gap between the royals and the commoners. From my experiences with the son of a Baron I knew, this war is just as hard for them as it is for us.”

He pauses from snipping away at the bush he’s working on. “You know, I’m glad you see it that way,” he tells you with an oddly grateful look in his eyes. “My p- Their majesties have really been struggling recently, especially with the loss of support from the people. For all the life of nobility looks wonderful, it comes at a cost. You lose freedom, always have to put others before yourself, can’t show any weakness, and bear the weight of every death on your shoulders.”

The odd phrasing and sudden correction go straight over your head as your muse suddenly rears its head. “I think I’ve got it now,” you blurt out. He blinks and tilts his head, confused. “Well I’m not sure what I did or said to help,” he replies, “but I’m glad I could help.”

You give him a big hug. “Really, you helped a lot,” you admit. “I need to go get started composing! But, uh, do you think I could see you again later?” He returns the hug. “Sure thing,” he murmurs in your ear. “I should be out here for the rest of today and all of tomorrow, but you’ll need to find me.”

“I think I can do that,” you murmur back and pull away from the hug. “See you tomorrow,” you call out to him as you start heading back to your Company. He watches you until you’re out of sight, before he goes back to pruning. “Well, that was fun,” he cheerfully tells himself. “I hope they do come back tomorrow. It’s not everyday I get to talk to someone like that.”

Composing the song was child’s play once you pick your lyre back up and get to work. The boy’s words repeat over and over in your head as you plan out lyrics and try different tunes. Master Chapman was thrilled when you played your song for him and assured you that the royals would love it. “It’s a wonderful tribute to all they do for us. And it helps us understand them and makes them more relatable to us,” he confirms. “I’m sure it will help you achieve your goal of helping bridge the gap between commoners and royals.”

When you find the boy the next day, you’re nearly vibrating in excitement. “Hey you,” you call. “Guess what?” His head turns to see you mid-snip and the branch lands on his head. You run over to make sure he’s okay. “Are you alright?” You ask him. “Yeah,” he responds sheepishly. “I guess this time it’s you who has to worry about getting me hurt.”

“Well that’s good,” you state, pouting at his teasing. “Oh! I realized yesterday that I don’t know your name!” He rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. “Ehe, sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Venti, it’s nice to officially meet you!”

“That’s a wonderful name,” you reply. “I like it a lot.” He smiles wide, “Thanks!” As the day continues you continue to talk with each other. Eventually he ropes you in to helping him with his chores. Thanks to that he gets done early and, after reporting back about finishing, he’s able to just spend the rest of the day with you.

After a certain point you’re able to admit to yourself that you’re falling for him. He’s cute, free-spirited, and makes you laugh. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but he seems to enjoy your time together too. The days left leading up to the performance are spent practicing and spending time with him. He’s tried to get you to play the song for him, but you insist that he wait for the performance to see.

The day of the performance comes very quickly, too quickly in your opinion. For all the compliments everyone who has heard your song gives you, and all the minds it has changed, you’re still incredibly nervous to perform it. What if they don’t like it? Will they find it presumptuous for you to write such a thing? When the time comes, will you mess up?

But the moment it’s your turn you take a deep breath, remind yourself that this is what you’re training for, and take your place on stage. Looking at the audience, you see the King and Queen, but, oddly enough, Prince Barbatos did not seem to be present. You strum your lyre and introduce yourself and your song. The audience seems intrigued that you would write such a song, so you take courage and start singing.

The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,

They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.

I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,

Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,

The true royal knows their people fed, before they sit to feast.

The good royal knows their people safe, before they takes their rest,

Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before they make request.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears a royal can't shed,

The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my soldiers dead.

Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—

And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!

(See: The Cost of the Crown by Mercedes Lackey, Debra F. Sanders)

As the last note fades the crowd stands with roaring applause. You feel a warmth spread across your cheeks as you bow deeply and return to your place standing with your company. Those standing around you congratulate you quietly as the next member steps up to perform.

Soon the performance is over and your Company is preparing to leave. Surprisingly many members of the Company had changed their minds about royals and the Company Head, Ferdinand, approached you to pass on the gratitude and appreciation from the King and Queen themselves. Venti showed up one last time, and Master Chapman allowed you to go speak with him as a treat for a job well done.

“That was amazing!” Venti shouts. “Did I really help you write that? I was hiding behind some curtains to listen and it was so amazing that I cried.” He grins so bright that you almost have to close your eyes. “I’m glad you liked it!” You say as you smile back. His happiness was contagious, and it didn’t help that you were completely smitten with him at this point. But alas, it was not meant to be.

Master Chapman called your name, letting you know that the Company would be leaving soon and that you’d have to come back within the next minute or two if you didn’t want to be left behind. Venti’s smile dims. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” He inquires. “Yes,” you sigh. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll see you again some day. But until then…” You trail off. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head again. Quickly, so as to not chicken out, you peck his check and run back to the Company.

“Until then!” You call out to him. The Company leaves as soon as you get there, so you’re not able to look back to see him. But if you could have, you would have seen him blushing as red as a rose, with a hand on his cheek where you kissed him. “Until then,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll make sure I’ll see you again.”

---

Years pass, and your apprenticeship ends. You make quite the name for yourself, and your song has worked wonders to heal the relationship between the people and their rules. Of course you write many more songs, but your first is always your favorite. Because he helped you write it. Many people have asked to court you, but you have turned them all down. Even after all these years, Venti the servant boy still holds your heart.

One day a messenger comes to speak with Ferdinand, bringing both good and bad news. Ferdinand calls the whole company together to share it. “Good friends, I’m sad to say that the King has passed away.” He announces, and the Company breaks into whispers and conversation. You think you may have even seen Gwenivere crying. “However, we have been invited to perform at Prince Barbatos’ coronation!”

This was wonderful news! Perhaps you could take this chance to see Venti again! You’d missed him dearly. But the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. Maybe he’d moved on and married someone else already. Would he still remember you? Will he want anything to do with you now? What if you didn’t like you and is upset about the kiss you gave him before you left?

You shake those thoughts out of your head and take a deep breath to calm yourself. Then you feel a hand clamp down on your shoulder and you must’ve jumped several feet in the air in your surprise because the person behind you burst into laughter. Embarrassed, you turn around to see Ferdinand, now laughing so hard that he was having trouble standing up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble at him, good naturedly. “I’m sure startling me was very funny.” Finally calming down, Ferdinand gave you a great big smile. “It most certainly was,” he assured you. “But I didn’t come to you with the intention to startle you.” You raise an eyebrow as you continues. “I wanted to let you know that you were actually mentioned by name, so you may want to prepare something special.

Your jaw dropped. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone to be specifically named, but this was from the Prince himself! Still stunned, you nodded. “I’ll write the best song I can,” you promised him. “I’m sure you will,” he replied confidently. He didn’t stay long after that, just letting you know the basics of when the Company would be leaving and how soon the coronation would be.

As you travel you do your best to compose a song. However, you soon find yourself stuck. Your muse is gone again, just like it was the last time you went to the palace. Oh well, perhaps Venti could help you again. It would be wonderful to spend more time with him anyway, so you don’t worry too much about it.

The Company reaches the palace after a week of travel. You look for Venti in the gardens all day, but can’t find him anywhere. ‘Perhaps he got moved to working in the castle?’ You wonder to yourself. But either way, that meant he wouldn’t be able to help you write your song. So you sat down that night and did your best to compose.

It wasn’t really working, but you did your best. The next morning was chaotic, as the Company had been informed that the Prince himself would be coming out to welcome you all. You hurriedly joined in making the company camp look presentable and changed into your best clothing before going out to stand with everyone else.

The Prince was announced before the palace doors opened to reveal… Venti. Your eyes went wide and your jaw must have dropped to the ground. Those who were in the company before very carefully didn’t turn to look at you, though the newbies couldn’t help but look at you, confused. You quickly composed yourself as he scanned the crowd, though the smiles of some of his guards told you that your reaction did not go unnoticed.

It was very much him. The same dark hair with teal tipped braids. His eyes brightened as they met yours. He strode forward and the crowd parted before him. You were about to move as well until he stopped before you, fell to one knee, took one of your hands, and gently kissed it. Your face warmed again in a way that it hadn’t since you last saw him.

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he saw the look on your face. “Hello again,” he said gently. “Hi,” you squeaked. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you again?” He laughed, “It’s good to see you again too. I know I kept my status a secret before, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth then, but could I ask you a question?”

“O-of course,” you respond. He smiles charmingly. “Will you marry me?” That’s it. You must’ve died and gone to heaven. Or maybe someone had put something in your breakfast. Or maybe he had the wrong person. You looked side to side to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to before you point to yourself. “M-me?” You ask, hesitantly. “You,” he says confidently. “I fell in love with you all those years ago, and I could never imagine myself with someone else.

“Though I would understand if you’re with someone else. It’s been so long and you’re so wonderful that you must have received many invitations to courtship.” A shy smile spreads across your face. “I have received many offers,” you admit, and his face falls a bit. “But I’ve turned them all down. My heart was taken years ago by my dear Venti the servant boy.”

You get down on your knees and kiss the hand that is holding yours. “I would love to marry you, if you’ll have me.” He smiles brighter than the sun. “Nothing would make me happier,” he declares, and he pulls you in for a kiss. You pull away for air and nuzzle your nose against his. “I do have one request though,” you continue. “Anything, my love,” he swears. “Court me properly first, please,” you request.

“I can do that,” he laughs as he pulls you in for a hug. “How about we start with having lunch together,” he whispers in your ear. “That sounds like a great plan,” you agree. He gives you another quick kiss before standing up, pulling you to your feet, and leading you back to the palace.

You ignore the whistles and applause of your Company as you follow him, grateful for their support but wanting to give your suitor all your attention. This was the first day of the rest of your life, and you wanted to appreciate every minute of it. And every minute was just as wonderful as you’d ever imagined.

As queen, you were able to bring the kingdom together and closer than ever before. The people loved their rulers because they knew their rulers dedicated themselves to them. And the rulers responded in kind. The war ended, peace prevailed, and you got your perfect happily ever after.

[southeastasianists]

On a sunny Monday morning in May, veteran arborist Eric Ong makes his rounds across the island of Singapore. Lean and tanned from years under the sun, Ong drives toward the city center. Along the way, before he’s even out of the car, Ong studies the canopies of green between the towers crowding out the sky in the city’s central business district, dominated by cool blue and gleaming grey.

Ong is a custodian of the island’s trees, and his job is to check up on them. His first destination of the day is Connaught Drive, a wide avenue flanked by dignified rain trees (Samanea saman), some topping 150 years old. “The big rain trees you see today were the pioneers of their time,” says Ong, his figure tiny next to a regal-looking rain tree. One of the most common streetside trees in Singapore, it’s easily identifiable by its large, umbrella-shaped crown, which offers a reprieve from Singapore’s unforgiving sun. Ferns, orchids, and other plants thrive on the sprawling branches and fissured trunk.

Arborists like Ong are also entrusted with the responsibility of looking after Singapore's heritage trees, ones conserved for their social, historical, cultural, or aesthetic value. These range from the Burmese banyan (Ficus kurzii) to the towering tembusu (Fagraea fragrans) and the saga tree (Adenanthera pavonina), with its bright red seeds. The mature rain trees—Ong’s favorites—are aged sentinels that witnessed Singapore’s historic milestones, including independence from Malaysia in 1965 and the first National Day Parade the following year.

With joggers running along the nearby Singapore River and the glitzy Marina Bay Sands resort looming in the distance, Ong begins with a 360-degree visual inspection. He scrutinizes the tree's crown and branches to see whether weak or overgrown limbs ought to come down before they’re hit by monsoons or splintered by heavy winds. He examines the tree for signs of die-back, fungal infection, and cavities, an indention or hole found in the dead tissue that follows an injury. (A cavity isn’t necessarily bad—trees can “compartmentalize the decay by blocking it off inside,” Ong says—but deep ones can compromise the structural integrity and make a tree unsafe for passersby.)

Much as a doctor performs a physical on a human patient, Ong records the tree’s vital signs, such as its girth and height, on an electronic tablet, where he can also access a database of the tree’s history and past inspections. To look more closely for signs of decay, he sometimes drills into the trunk or uses a type of ultrasound for trees. By striking the trunk with a mallet, arborists can track how sound waves travel through the trunk. If they meander slowly, it could mean there are cavities inside.

The examination takes about 15 minutes—but that’s just one tree. In a month, Ong needs to inspect between 500 and 1,000, and crews are especially busy just before monsoon seasons. The Northeast monsoon season lasts from December to March, and the Southwest monsoon season spans June to September. Both are marked by severe thunderstorms, gusty winds, and flash floods—and can easily topple trees.

“Monsoon seasons are nothing to worry about… provided that we do our homework well,” said Ong, 39, who has spent 13 years at the National Parks Board (NParks). To brace for impending storms, Ong is on high alert in especially “sensitive areas,” including places with heavy traffic or throngs of pedestrians. One example is the busy Orchard Road shopping district or the East Coast Parkway highway, which links the international airport to the city center and is lined with majestic trees and colorful tropical shrubs. There, a precarious tree would be a big liability.

In recent years, NParks has also been using new technologies to manage urban trees more efficiently and at a larger scale. Small drones come in handy for quick aerial inspections to examine hard-to-reach nooks and crannies, and NParks incorporated lidar technology, which uses lasers to generate 3D models of trees. Using a software called Remote Tree Measurement System (RTMS), the organization simulates stress tests to understand how trees hold up in wind speeds of up to 50 miles an hour. By knowing the trees’ likely weak points, NParks is able to target pruning efforts.

Some trees are known to be especially vulnerable in storms. The African mahogany tree (Khaya nyasica), an introduced species and one of the largest roadside trees in Singapore, has shallow roots and is heavy and dense, which makes it prone to falling down when a wind pushes. The African tulip tree (Spathodea campanulata) is similarly likely to uproot, while matchstick trees (Paraserianthes falcataria) can struggle because of their soft, brittle wood. Arborists sometimes swap these species for shorter, hardier alternatives such as the native pink mempat (Cratoxylum formosum) and trumpet tree (Tabebuia rosea), which are better equipped to withstand the tropical climate.

Risk-management interventions have decreased tree falling incidents by 85 percent, from some 3,000 cases in 2001 to about 340 cases in 2020. “Some will say we are tree huggers, but we are not,” Ong says. “We are tree doctors … We look after trees in an urban environment. If you hug every tree, there’s no way you can move forward.”

Ong wears the informal title of “tree guardian” with pride. It’s a role that is slowly gaining more recognition, and may be more important than ever.

Singapore is home to some seven million trees. NParks manages six million of them, in roads, streets, fields, and parks. The city-state has become a lot greener since the 1960s, when the founding Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew introduced the “Garden City” vision. By 2030, the country will be home to at least one million more leafy residents.

The work of tending to all of these trees currently falls to over 630 arborists accredited with the International Society of Arboriculture (ISA), a third of whom are employed by NParks.

As Singapore is home to more and more trees, it’s also seeing increased development. In the land-scarce city-state, arborists respond to the uneasy compromise between the rapid pace of urbanization and the need to preserve green spaces.

Arborists are sometimes peace brokers between people and plants, says Ong, who sometimes fields complaints about trees that shed leaves or are home to pooping birds. And a lot of the crew’s work involves protecting trees amid construction. Advance planning is key, Ong says as he strides briskly around the historic Civic District. During large road construction projects, they’ve had to make sure that eight mature rain trees could be conserved. This has involved wrangling trees with root balls measuring nearly 20 feet in diameter and weighing over 70 tons. To salvage the trees, a team of arborists dug them up, applied growth stimulants to encourage root development, and pruned them to help minimize transplant shock.

There’s a growing awareness of the curious complexities of an arborist's job. To inject new blood into the sector, fellow NParks arborist Tan Chin Peng has been training students at the Institute of Technical Education and sharing about the industry job prospects. Some students on apprenticeships even manage certain stretches of Bedok Town Park in eastern Singapore and conduct their own tree inspections. “Nowadays, the young people are very enthusiastic and interested in this industry. It’s inspiring to see that,” Tan says.

Ong believes that a good arborist must be conscientious, observant, and scientifically savvy, with a background in urban forestry and ability to wrestle with jargon-filled journal articles. It also helps to be physically fit: Most arborists get around by public transport or on foot, jokingly known as "Bus 11,” though younger ones sometimes ride kick scooters. Ong says arborists should also be flexible and open-minded, and possess “the ability to feel calm and composed in nature.”

There’s a wistful glint in his eye as he recalls gathering with several other arborists—all certified tree climbers—at the verdant grounds of the Singapore Botanic Gardens to practice their skills. These weekly meetups, which are paused for the pandemic, involved contending with fire ants, wasps, and heights. The ritual offered a sanctuary for the public servants to reflect on their work, and how people relate to landscapes. “We need trees,” Ong says, mulling quietly to himself. And the dream is that Singapore will soon have more trees—and arborists—than ever.

[flameohotwife]

Happiness and Love

Here is my contribution to @kataang-week day 2: Blending Cultures! Aang and Katara are expecting their first child, and discuss how they want to pass down each of their cultures. Basically just shameless cloud family fluff. Enjoy!

ao3 | ffn

Katara sat on a balcony of the Southern Air Temple, resting her hand on her finally-swelling belly while she watched Aang going through his bending forms below. She missed being able to spar with him every morning; keeping her skills and reflexes sharp, but Aang wouldn’t risk hurting the baby accidentally. They would still do their waterbending katas together later, under the moon, at least. That was something to look forward to.

As she took a sip of the tea Aang had left for her, she thought about the child growing in her womb, and how they would raise them. She had known going into this relationship--long before she was old enough to think about having this family--what it would mean to marry outside the Water Tribes. That she may have to sacrifice some aspects of her culture to also let parts of her partner’s shine through their children; through their family.

Even their wedding had been a mix of Water Tribe and Air Nomad traditions, from their vows to their clothes and even the food. Aang had briefly tried to insist on a traditional Water Tribe ceremony, since weddings hadn’t even been all that common amongst the Air Nomads (though they did happen, despite what some propagandist Fire Nation texts may have said about the Air Nomads being…sexually promiscuous and allergic to commitment), but Katara had put her foot down. Their wedding was not about her, or Aang, individually. It was this new thing they had created with their relationship. A beautiful mix of water and air, just as their child would be.

She was brought out of her reverie by a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, looking up from her tea to catch Aang’s bright grey eyes. She wondered if their baby would have his eyes. All of her thoughts seemed to flick to the baby these days.

“Hi,” he returned brightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before sitting beside her on the bench, pouring a cup of tea for himself. “Thinking about anything in particular?”

She caught a glimpse of the smile he tried to hide behind his teacup and knew he’d caught her daydreaming about the baby again. She couldn’t keep her own lips from curving upward or her heart from fluttering. She was so happy for the opportunity to bear his child; to create a family with him, and bring more of him into the world. Though she had truthfully considered him family since she was fourteen years old, this way of being a family was different, and new, and so, so exciting. Katara couldn’t wait to see what this family they created together would look and be like. She knew Aang felt the same way by the fact that he’d practically been floating around the temple, making extra time to pray for her and the baby, and waiting on her hand-and-foot for the last three months since she’d told him.

“Just the baby,” she sighed, setting down her now-empty cup. She fixed him with an apprehensive stare, and he set down his cup too to give her his full attention. “Do you think we’ll be able to do a good job… you know, passing down both our cultures? It’s soimportant to pass down their Air Nomad heritage, regardless of what type of bender they are, or aren’t, but… they’ll be half Water Tribe, too. I want to be able to celebrate our holidays, andyour holidays. Eat both types of food with meals just like we do now sometimes. Obviously we’ll be respectful about the meat just like I try to be now, but, I just… I worry a little bit that one culture or the other will get focused on, especially if they’re a bender, but they will still be part of both of us.”

Aang gave her a reassuring smile--he had always been so good at calming her when she was rambling and getting lost in her own worry--and took her hands in his. He couldn’t put into words why or how much he loved her for considering things like that, even if it bordered on overthinking sometimes. That she took his heart and his culture, which had been gone for over a century at this point, into account when planning how to raise their children.

He remembered how his heart had squeezed and felt lighter than the air he bent at the thought that she would even want to have babies with him, back when they were still discussing it as a theoretical. She had insisted that she wanted to give him his lost culture back, and he had argued that she was all he ever wanted, but that creating new life with her would be a privilege he would cherish forever. And now here she sat, with only a few months left to go before they could meet the child they had made together. His excitement was beyond measure, but his love--he never thought he would feel love this intense and all-encompassing, and he had loved Katara truly and deeply since they were still kids. He almost couldn’t believe how much more he loved her every single day. Almost.

“Oh, Katara,” he started, trying to find the right way to say it. He didn’t want her to think he was dismissing her concerns. “Sweetie, I love you so, so much. How did I get so lucky that you found me, and love me, and want a family with me? Just the fact that you’re even worrying about this… I’m sure it won’t be easy, but I know the two of us can find a good middle ground for our family. Like you said, we do a pretty good job of that already.”

He leaned over to kiss her gently, sweetly on the lips, feeling as if he may burst from the love he felt for her. He pulled back to see that she still didn’t look convinced, though the worry in her eyes had definitely lessened.

“You know what I think?” He asked, determined to return her to the confident, happy Katara he knew and loved.

“What do you think, oh wise Avatar?” She knew that, though he hated being called by his title in most instances, he didn’t mind the occasional teasing from her, since she had never seen or treated him like that was his only identity. He threw her an amused look before continuing.

“I think that we will consult your elders on naming our baby, using the name of someone close to us who has passed, in Water Tribe tradition. I think we will have a Pangsai--a birth ceremony, and a pancake feast after our baby is born to welcome them into our extended, blended, found family, in the Air Nomad tradition. I think you will wear our baby under your amauti for easy feeding and bonding. And I won’t be able to resist kissing their little head when I see it poking out. I think they will get to pick a bison from the new herd. I think they will go ice dodging. I think we will travel to your family’s home for the Winter Solstice every year. I think we will celebrate the Autumnal Equinox at an Air Temple. I think we will eat sea prunes--well, the two of you can, anyway--and seaweed noodles, and dumplings, and moon peaches, and sweet buns, and buttered tea, and bison milk, and all of our favorite foods from home.

“It will be a little bit of both our cultures, but it will also be something new. Just like when we bent the clouds over Makapu, combining air and water to create new shapes, our own little cloudbaby will be a little bit of each of us, but also their own person, with their own likes and dislikes. And I don’t know about you, but I am so excited to meet them and learn about them and nurture their wild and crazy dreams, just like we’ve done for each other all these years.”

As he talked, describing what he thought their life as a family would look like, tears gathered in both of their eyes. They had both come so far, and lost so much, to get to this point. Where a few years ago they were still in mourning for the loved ones and childhoods they had lost to war, here they were celebrating the creation of new life. Where they were both the last benders of their respective races, here they had the chance to birth a new one. Even if their child wasn’t a bender, they would still be carrying the heritage of both their people; people nearly or completely lost due to the war, and they both felt so lucky to be in this position. Together.

“Aang…” her voice was watery, and she couldn’t even begin to articulate what she was feeling. But she knew he knew. He always knew.

He pulled her into a crushing hug, careful to avoid squeezing her belly. “I love you so much, Katara. You have no idea what this means to me, to make this new life, with you.” There were tears streaming down both their faces, now, and he was reminded of a similar hug in the Serpent’s Pass a long, long time ago, when he had first told her how much he loved her, in his own way. “I can’t wait to see our own family, so full of happiness and love…”

She pulled back to look him in the eyes, knowing exactly what he was referring to, and it dawned on her that he may have known even then that they would be here one day. She wiped his tears tenderly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips before startling with a yelp.

“What is it? Is everything okay?” Aang asked, concern clear in his eyes.

“It’s… the baby! They kicked! Here, feel,” she took his hand and pressed it to the top of her bump, and within a few seconds he could feel something pushing back at him. “It still feels so weird to me.”

“Katara, it’s… that’s our baby!” It wasn’t the first time he’d been able to feel this, but it was still new. He looked shocked and elated every time, as if it was only a dream to him until he could feel the baby moving with his own hand.

“Mhmm, it is,” she beamed. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so wide but she didn’t care. He was so childlike in his wonder, and she was incredibly excited to bring more of his spirit into the world. They would sit there for hours with his hand on her belly, and the joy would not abate.

They knew it wouldn’t be easy; nothing in their life had been. But they also knew it would be worth it. They wouldn’t be perfect parents, but they would do their best not only to raise this little one well, but also to teach them about both parts of their heritage. If they could have a little more of each other to love, a perfect blend of water and air, a new, beautiful human to add to this world, they would thank the Spirits every day for this life. And it would be enough, always.

[reinerispretty]

reminiscence (? x f!reader) pt2

thank you so much for all of the positive feedback on the last chapter!! i’m super happy you guys enjoyed it :) just for some clarification, the reason i made who the reader will end up with a mystery is bc since she has amnesia, i thought it would be fun if we all found out together hehe :) enjoy this next chapter!!

pt1 

pt3

“Thank you,” The woman said, hunched over as she caught her breath. When she stood, Bolin got a good look at her face. She wasn’t a woman at all: she was a girl, probably the same age as him. “I thought I had an agreement with the Triads to leave me alone, but that guy must not have gotten the memo.”

Bolin let out a laugh. “You have an agreement with the Triads?” The girl furrowed her brows and pouted.

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow.”

“Who was that?” (Y/N) asked as Kya and Korra rifled through dressers and chests to find Air Nomad clothes that would fit her. Kya gave Korra a sharp look before the girl could answer.

“That was Bolin,” Korra replied cautiously. “He’s Mako’s brother.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said. “He looked really nice. Did he know me too?”

“Um, yeah, I think so,” Korra said and Kya glared at her. “What? Am I just supposed to lie to her if she asks?”

“I appreciate the honesty,” (Y/N) admitted. “I would really rather no one tiptoe around the past.”

“If you receive too much information at once, or someone tells you something too painful, it could harm your chances of ever getting your memory back,” Kya said as she handed (Y/N) an Air Nomad dress.

“So everyone is just supposed to pretend that they’re fine with me? That hardly seems fair.” (Y/N) gave Korra a pointed look. “I know you know something that I don’t and that’s why you’re a little stand-offish toward me.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Tell me, please? I’ll be okay. I need to know what kind of person I was.”

“Not today,” Kya interrupted. “You need rest. Lots of it. You’ve been going since you woke up.”

Now that she mentioned it, (Y/N) did feel rather exhausted. She stifled a yawn. “I’ll lead you to your room,” Kya said. “Since Korra can’t be trusted to not tell you everything.”

(Y/N) stood as Kya grabbed her by the arm again. “It was nice meeting you, Korra, even if it wasn’t nice meeting me.” Korra didn’t reply. She just watched as the girl padded down the hall.

The room (Y/N) was given was bare. It held a desk, a dresser, and a bed. The window looked out onto the courtyard below. She could see the people down there, undoubtedly talking about her, and she reached her fingers up to open the window. She paused, thinking on Kya’s words. If she found out too much about herself too soon, she would risk the chance of losing her memories forever. She let her hand fall to her side.

Everyone down there knew who she was. Maybe they knew her likes, her dislikes, or even her birthday. She wondered if at one point they had been friends.

Her experience with Mako had definitely put a sour taste in her mouth. He had said she wasn’t a good person. Was she mean? Evil, even? What made her that way? What did she do to him that was so awful?

And then there was Bolin. Mako had mentioned his name earlier, when she had arrived on his doorstep. “Bolin’s not here,” He had said. Why would it matter whether or not Bolin was there? She sighed as she looked down at the boy dressed in green. What did he know about her?

(Y/N) felt the familiar stinging at the backs of her eyes that alerted her to tears. Since she was alone, she let them fall freely. She moved away from the window and to the bed, her body shaking as she cried. She felt so alone. How was she supposed to cope with something like this? She was completely lost on the inside and it seemed like the only people who knew her didn’t want her around.

She didn’t bother wiping her tears away. They fell too quickly for her to catch them all. She wondered if she had ever had someone that would wipe her tears away. She got under the covers and prayed that sleep would come to her soon.

---

Two years ago, Bolin had been walking down the streets of Republic City. It was a warm night, signaling the start of summer, so he wore his jacket slung over his shoulder. The streetlights shone against the puddles on the asphalt. It had rained earlier that day.

He and Mako had gotten in a fight over money again. It was stupid, really, but sometimes Bolin was just so sick of Mako treating him like he was incapable. He had slammed the door as he left their shared apartment and marched into the street, walking with no destination. He was far away from home now. He could tell he had been walking for a while because the neon lights of the shops had already shut off. Republic City was beginning to quiet.

He made a right onto a dimly lit street and noticed a female figure walking ahead of him. Bolin decided to stop. He knew sometimes it freaked women out if men walked behind them, even if there was no ill-intent behind it, so he leaned his back against the cool brick of the building and waited until she had rounded the corner to start walking again. That was when he heard the scream.

Out of pure instinct, Bolin started running toward the sound, his jacket billowing behind him. He skidded around the corner, watching as the woman he had seen struggled against a member of the Triple Threat Triad. He and Mako had done some work for them in the past, but he didn’t recognize the man. He was large, towering over the woman and probably Bolin too. He had his hands around the woman’s wrists and was trying to lead her into the dark alley beside them. “Hey!” Bolin called out. “Let her go!”

The man stopped, a sinister smile creeping its way onto his features. “This doesn’t concern you, kid.”

Bolin wracked his brain for a clever reply, but when he couldn’t find one, he resorted to his next best option. He stomped against the ground, causing small boulders to pummel the man. He let go of the woman’s wrists and she ran over to Bolin.

The man let out a roar, jumping into the air and sending a slice of firebending at the two of them. They screamed and Bolin grabbed her hand, running back down the street and taking the back alley ways he knew so well.

“My place is the other way!” She shouted at him.

“I don’t think you wanna take him to where you live!” Bolin shouted back. They made a sharp right turn onto one of the busier streets in Republic City. Bolin stopped, using his head start to earthbend the ground up, completely blocking the man from following them. They dashed into the crowd then, Bolin’s grip still tight on the woman’s hand, until he was sure they were safe to stop.

“Thank you,” The woman said, hunched over as she caught her breath. When she stood, Bolin got a good look at her face. She wasn’t a woman at all: she was a girl, probably the same age as him. “I thought I had an agreement with the Triads to leave me alone, but that guy must not have gotten the memo.”

Bolin let out a laugh. “You have an agreement with the Triads?” The girl furrowed her brows and pouted.

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow,” She said. She looked down at her hands and sighed sadly. “When he grabbed me, he made me drop my dinner.”

“Oh no!” Bolin exclaimed. “Come with me, I know a place!”

“Thanks,” She said, “But I don’t have any money on me.”

“Let me buy you dinner!” The words came out before he could stop them, and he knew Mako would be so mad if he found out, but he couldn’t help himself. The girl raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think it’s fair to make you pay for my dinner after you just saved my life,” She said with a laugh. Bolin smiled at the sound.

“How about this: you can repay me for saving your life by accompanying me to dinner. And if I—hypothetically—ordered too much food and couldn’t possibly let it go to waste so you’d have to eat it…then I think that’s fair!”

The girl smiled up at him. “Then I guess, hypothetically, I’d have to say yes.”

Bolin grinned and began walking in the direction of the restaurant, then paused. “Just to be clear, you are coming to dinner with me, right?” The girl laughed again and nodded.

They slid into the booth of Bolin’s favorite twenty-four-hour noodle shop. “They’ve got everything,” Bolin explained as they poured over the menu together. “Ramen, pho, pad thai…you name it, they have it.”

The girl hummed. “Think they have sea prunes?” Bolin’s face contorted into disgust. “I’m kidding! I hate sea prunes.” She picked up her menu, biting her lip as she looked at its contents. “Do you like soup dumplings?”

“Like soup dumplings?” Bolin asked. “I love them! They’re my favorite!”

“Mine too!”

“We’ll get a double order then,” Bolin decided. He went up to the counter and ordered their food. When he returned, he leaned his elbows onto the table. “So, what should I call you?”

“You mean besides the girl you just rescued? (Y/N) will do.”

“(Y/N),” Bolin repeated. He liked how it felt in his mouth. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bolin.”

---

“Bolin.” The boy snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at his older brother. They had returned home only a few hours ago and the sun was starting to come up. He could feel its warm rays cascading through his windows and onto his skin. “You need to go to bed,” Mako ordered.

“How can I possibly go to bed?” Bolin groaned, flopping sideways onto the couch. Pabu hopped up and curled himself into Bolin’s side.

“Easy,” Mako said. “You close your eyes and then you’re asleep.”

“Every time I try to close my eyes, I think of how (Y/N’s) on Air Temple Island and she has no idea who she is or who we are.”

“Try not to care about it, alright?” Mako poured himself a cup of tea. He had work in just a few hours. His under eyes were dark with exhaustion but as long as Bolin was awake, he’d remain awake. “We’ll figure it out and get her memories back and then she’ll go back to whatever she was doing when she left Republic City.”

Bolin chewed on his bottom lip. He had a feeling there was more to the story. The cogs in his head were turning tirelessly. He sat up, disturbing Pabu, and turned to Mako. “What if-“

“No, Bolin, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to make excuses for everything that happened because she has amnesia.”

“But what if there’s something bigger?” Bolin asked. “She’s been gone for months and says she woke up a week ago without her memory. What happened in that time?”

“We’ll find out soon enough. They’re gonna have her do some meditating tomorrow to try to bring some of her memories back.” Mako sat beside Bolin on the couch.

“I should go back,” Bolin started to stand up. “I need to talk to her.”

“Bolin, no.” His brother pulled him back down. “You heard Kya. She can’t find out too much or she risks losing everything. While she’s focusing on getting her memories back, you need to focus on what you know: she broke your heart, little bro. She definitely didn’t have amnesia then.”

Bolin’s eager appearance deflated completely. He knew his brother was right but there was still a part of him that wanted to go see her. Maybe if Bolin told her about her past, then it would be okay. They’d had the strongest connection out of all of them.

---

That morning, (Y/N) sat between Korra and Tenzin in a gazebo. Her legs were crossed, her arms were loose in her lap, and she inhaled deep breaths to try to connect to any of her lost memories. All that she got was a whole lot of nothing. She peeked her eye open to look at Korra, who was blatantly staring at her.

“Keep your eyes closed!” Korra snapped.

“Your eyes were open!” (Y/N) argued.

“No one’s eyes should be open!” Tenzin grumbled decisively. The two girls sighed and returned to their previous states. (Y/N) inhaled another deep breath and tried to do what Tenzin had told her. She recounted the first memory she had: waking up and gasping for air, the night sky high above her. She could feel the grass that surrounded her. Once she had gained her bearings, she took in her surroundings. A small fishing village sat at the bottom of the mountain she had laid on. She got to her feet, legs wobbling, and looked at herself. Her coat was covered in spots of dirt. She reached into its pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. The writing on it was scribbled and quick, written with haste, and was obviously an address.

(Y/N’s) eyes popped back open. She didn’t notice anything different this time around. There hadn’t been anyone at her side. The first people she had interacted with had been the people in the village. They had asked her name and (Y/N) had started panicking when she couldn’t remember it. She didn’t want to delve too deep into that memory. She could still feel the pain and anxiety in it.

She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t remember anything! I’ve been trying for the past two hours and all I can see is the same memory I’ve been going over for the past week.” She felt the stinging behind her ears again, but took a breath to halt it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so frustrated. I just don’t know anything and I know you guys do and trust me, I understand why you don’t want to tell me, but it stinks not knowing anything other than my name and that I’m a bad person.”

Korra frowned sadly at the girl. She knew what it was like, to be judged before she got the chance to redeem herself. While she had heard some pretty bad stories about (Y/N) from Mako, she also recognized that he was biased. Especially when it came to Bolin.

“How about we go into the city and get some lunch?” Korra asked. (Y/N) looked up at her gratefully.

“I don’t know if that’s the wisest idea,” Tenzin’s deep voice rumbled.

“Relax, Tenzin. We won’t talk about her life. She needs something normal right now.” Reluctantly, the man conceded.

Korra helped (Y/N) to her feet and whistled for Naga. The polar bear dog bounded toward them, her tail wagging excitedly. “(Y/N),” Korra said. “Meet Naga.”

The polar bear dog gave (Y/N) a huge lick on the side of her face. She giggled, rubbing behind Naga’s ears. “It’s so nice to meet you!” (Y/N) squealed. “I wish I had a pet just like you!”

“She’s kind of the best,” Korra admitted as she hopped onto Naga’s back. She pulled (Y/N) up to sit behind her.

“I don’t doubt it!” With a whip of her reigns, they burst into a run toward Republic City. (Y/N) couldn’t contain her laughter as they sped toward the water. She didn’t realize that they’d be traveling by sea until Naga dove headfirst into the icy water. (Y/N) closed her eyes tightly, gripping onto Korra’s back. The Avatar laughed.

“You can open your eyes now,” She called back to her. Slowly, (Y/N) relaxed and looked around. They traveled under the water in a giant bubble. Korra’s arms moved in flowing movements in front of her.

“You’re waterbending!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“The Avatar is the master of the four elements,” Korra explained. “I’ve been training my whole life.”

“All four?” (Y/N) let out a gasp. “That’s so cool! I wonder if I was ever a bender.” Korra looked back at (Y/N) for a moment.

“You weren’t,” She said, her eyes kind as she stared at (Y/N). Although a little disappointed that she couldn’t bend, (Y/N) was grateful for Korra’s honesty.

“Thank you,” She said, a soft smile on her lips.

---

Tag List! 

@beifongsss , @realimbo , @lavendercrystals , @tomshollandz , @zukosvice , @itsivyberry , @awesomelupe , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @ilovespideyyy , @zukostan221 , @nataliahaslosthershit , @dailytrashypanda , @marvel-ing-at-it-all , @astralsaf , @ryleyrooroo , @yuhaino , @hotgirlazula , @thefandomimagines , 

[blue-bird-kny]

Steamy Seduction

I’m back!! I finally finished that fic I mentioned forever ago lol. Believe it or not but since school’s started I’ll be able to produce more work. Without further ado here is some long overdue love for Mitsuri! As always, enjoy~Amanda

Side note: the fact that I'm almost to 1k followers is mind boggling so thank you all!!

Warning: NSFW, mild dom/sub themes, eating out, semi-public, Fem!reader, language

(1.7k+ words)

“Hmmmm” you sighed in relief, submerged up to just below your nose in the boiling water of the hot spring. It had taken some major planning, but you managed to gather most of your Hashira friends (Sanemi and Obanai both thought this was a waste of time) to take a much needed vacation at a local hot springs in the mountains. “Sometimes you could be such a child” Shinobu snickered from the edge of the water; she and Mitsuri sat wrapped in white towels, the water morphing its shape to hug their form- you almost purred at the sight of Mitsuri’s breast, just barely covered by the cloth.

floated over to the girls, tightening your bun in the process. Mitsuri couldn’t help but giggle as she watched the way her friend glared, your fingers finding Mitsuri’s. Shinobu stretched, pulling herself out of the water, “I don't want to end up like a prune so I’m going to bed, you two love birds stay out of trouble” she winked, grabbing her robe and disappearing.

As if on instinct, you moved to Mitsuri’s lap, your legs trapping her against her seat. “You look so pretty with your hair down” you cooed playing with the loose strands. She looked away shyly, her arms softly hugging your waist. “You always say I’m pretty, so how will I know when I look bad?” she probed. “Impossible. You’ve never looked anything but beautiful”. You moved on from her hair, your fingertips brushing against the skin of her neck up to her cheeks, holding the rosy flesh in your hands, your thumbs rubbed soothingly along her features.

Mitsuri hummed in content as your lips traveled along her skin, leaving open mouthed kisses along her jawline, down her throat, until finally reaching her lips. You pressed your chest against hers, groaning into the kiss at the feel of Mitsuri’s hard nipples against yours. Your tongue slid along her bottom lip, silently asking for permission, nibbling gentle against the swollen skin. Her grip on your waist steadily tightened as her legs figgetted between yours. “We can get into a little trouble, no?” you flirted, toying with the edge of the towel. Mitsuri fervently shook her head, already trapped under the spell of your touch.

You shifted, bringing your knee between her thighs, pressing against her naked mound. “Agh!” you swallowed her moan with your mouth, moving your knee back a bit. “ Sorry baby, but you’ll have to be quieter than that” You held her chin, staring into her wide eyes, “Just over that wall are all the guys, you wouldn’t want them to hear you” you inched your knee closer again, just brushing against her folds. The sound of Uzui’s booming laughter emphazed your point. “Or maybe you want them to hear how easily you come undone at my touch. But you know baby, I don’t share, I want all your delicious noises for myself so if you can’t keep quiet I’ll just have to stop” you pulled away slightly, “No! I’ll be good I promise” Mitsuri pleaded, pulling you against her. “That's what I like to hear baby, you're always so good for me” you dawdled, your knee gently grinding circles against her cunt. You pulled her towel open, riding her of the pesky cloth and leaving her on full display.

You thumbed at her nipples, watching the way Mitsuri  shuddered at your touch before taking one in your mouth, sucking. Mitsuri covered her mouth quickly, broken moans muffled as they slipped through the cracks. If she was having a hard time piping down now, you couldn’t wait to watch her struggle during the main event. You switched between sucking and nipping while your leg still worked under the water, never putting more pressure than needed. Your whole body worked in a steady pattern, never easing the pleasure you were giving- if you weren’t careful Mitsuri would come sooner than you wanted.

You pulled off her breast with a wet pop, marveling at the hot mess beneath, pressing harder against her clit. Your face landed in the valley between her breast, licking a trail up over the juncture of her neck, across faded marks from previous nights. Mitsuri’s eyes were screwed shut, she was biting her fingers so tightly in an effort to suppress her mewls that you were afraid it’d draw blood. In one swift motion, you pulled away completely, ceasing all movement. Mitsuri whined at the loss of your touch, her bulging eyes pleading. “Don’t worry baby,” you removed her hand kissing the palm lovingly, “you were so good for me, of course I’d let you cum” you pushed her wild strands back behind her ears, peppering her skin with kisses. “Could you sit up on the ledge for me please? I promise you’ll feel good”  you urged, placing the towel on the cold floor for her to sit on.

She nodded hazily, lifting herself out of the water and onto the towel. You growled at the sight of the water beads falling down her naked skin, her flushed cheeks filled you body with warmth- oh how you couldn’t wait to taste her. You gripped her legs, pulling them apart slowly, too slowly for Mitsuri’s liking. Your eyes bore into hers through wet lashes, biting at the supple flesh of her thick thighs. “Y/n please” she cried, her arms unsteadily holding herself off the ground. “Be patient baby girl, you know I just love this part” you mumbled against her inner thigh, the skin littered with bruises. You could smell her juices, close enough that your breath caused shivers to pass through her spine. Your index finger trailed her sopping slit, gathering her slick on your finger. “See? Beautiful.” you showed off her mess like it was some glistening prize, before bringing your finger past your lips.

Mitsuri couldn’t take much more of this teasing, she was desperate for anything. For you though, she would sit through hours of torturous teasing and that thought alone brought you face to face with her dripping pussy. “Baby you should lay down, your arms will get tired” you spoke caringly, your nose grazing her navel. She did as she was told, yelping at the sudden feel of your tongue prodding her hole. You pushed her lips apart, your tongue moving as far inside as possible, your nose bumping against her sensitive bud. Her delicate fingers held your hair, the others returning to her own mouth.You licked and stretched, drinking up as much of her as you could. “You’re delicious baby” your sultry voice rang, the muffled vibrations causing Mitsuri to clench around nothing.

You moved south, stuffing two digits into her soaked cavern; she winced in pain slightly. “It’ll only hurt for a minute baby” you consoled, your thumb rolled against her nub in hopes of distracting her from the dulling pain. You circled your lips around the quivering bud, tugging it gently. Mitsuri sobbed quietly, your fingers scissoring inside of her, just brushing that special spot she yearned for you to touch. You were relentless; edging her closer to her release with each swirl and thrust.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the girl writhing on the stone floor in front of you.. Her face was flushed and her brows knitted tightly in ecstasy, sweat mingled with the drying water that cascaded down her milky skin. Her knotted tresses sprawled out on the floor, while her own manicured tips gripped your roots yanking from time to time- Mitsuri’s fucked out image was stunning.

Swiftly, you hoist her legs over your shoulders, the new angle giving you easy access to her g-spot, ready to abuse. Mitsuri’s muscles constricted in a feeble attempt to keep herself from suffocating you- if you were going to die, there would be no better way then to be suffocated by your girlfriend. . “Go wild baby” your sinful smirk pushed her over her limit. Her moans sprunge free and breathy from her puffy parted lips, her eyes locked on your bobbing head as she held you in place with a firm grasp, feet digging into your shoulder blades. She came hard, a string of cries and stuttering “Y-Y/n”. You drank every drop of her salty-sweet slick, Mitsuri ground her hips against your face, riding out her climax.

You savored the lingering taste on your tongue, cleaning the glistening residue off your chin with the back of your hand only to wipe it away with your tongue. A shiver passed through your spin as the chill air tickled your damp body, clambering out of the heated water at last, slithering up Mitsuri’s spent body slouched against the stone. “You were so good for me baby” you smiled softly, petting her unruly hair. “It's the least I could do, you always treat me right my Love” she mumbled wearing an exhausted expression. You relished in the feel of your slippery, bare bodies pressed flush against each other for only a moment before moving to stand. “Wait.” Mitsuri moved to clutch your hand, “what about you?” she huffed wistful, round eyes. “Don’t worry about me princess, you’re body’s spent” you reached for a dry towel, engulfing Mitsuri’s shivering form in its warmth. “Besides, there’s always tomorrow” you baited with a seductive glare.

You woke up alone, Mitsuri’s flowery scent already fading from your shared space. You groaned, rubbing your sore knees, the rocks from last night really did a number on the tender skin. “Where is she?” you thought, scrambling out of the mess of bed sheet.

“Morning” you grumbled to the gaggle of Hashira’s, all baring a creepy knowing smile. You watched confused when Shinobu spoke up, “I heard you had a pleasant time in the springs last night” her eyes hiding something sinister. “Yes! We could hear all your gasping laughter from our side of the wall!” Rengoku added, sporting his own grin as Uzui’s wolfish laughter shook the room. “I’m going to find Mitsuri” you shouted exiting, “Oh she went to go shower, she said she was dirty” your face flushed- They fucking knew.

Main Masterlist

[chipper9906]

Love Is...

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie 

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 12,016

Status: One Shot - Complete

Summary: 

He could barely see a thing past the rain pounding down on him, soaking every inch of his clothes in as little as a second. The howling wind around him seemed to bite into his skin, the raindrops feeling like small blades as they shot down against his body.

And yet, somehow, he knew. The moment he stepped into this place, the moment he felt the rain atop his skin, he knew.

He had been here before.

* * *

A continuation fic set after the events of the Season 1 Finale. Filled with plenty of angst and comfort, because apparently, I enjoy writing about pain - so long as that pain is eventually healed.

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Perhaps, in another time, another him, he would have told the story of this moment differently. He would say that he stared upon that looming statue, the impassive stone face of ‘He Who Remains’, and he did not tremble. He looked into the face of the man he knew he was to take down, and he got to work.

But he’d be lying if he’d said that. 

He had looked up to that statue in horror. He had stood there, wishing he was looking at the statues of the timekeepers, instead. Because he knew that, the horrors of all that happened before? That was going to be nothing, nothing, compared to what was coming. 

The room he was sat in now was almost familiar. The same type of nearly every interrogation room that the TVA had, but there was something… off about it. Perhaps a slightly different shade of orange compared to the previous TVA’s color scheme. Or… or perhaps the font they used for the number plastered on the wall was different?

What was familiar was the collar locked in place around his neck. ‘Purely for safety purposes’ they had told him as TVA security swarmed him, all but picked him up by his arms, and hauled him off into this room. He had been sat on this hard, uncomfortable chair for… actually, he still wasn’t too sure how time worked in the TVA. All he knew was that it had been too long already. 

It had barely been a moment. The change had happened so fast. Too fast. He had tumbled back through that time door, and… time itself had erupted. Chaos, just as ‘He Who Remains’ had told them it would. And this was just one. One branch of what was going to be infinite - some good, and some very, very bad. But it didn’t even matter if there were good ones. Because ultimately, the bad ones were coming. The bad ones were out there, and this time, they were going to do everything in their power to make sure their timeline came out on top.

And somehow… he had to stop it?

No… No, not just him. 

Perhaps… perhaps he can find a way out of here. Steal a TemPad, perhaps? No, no, that wouldn’t work… There was only one TVA, wasn’t there? So, that meant… Mobius was truly gone. His Mobius, anyway. The one who was going to burn this place to the ground. The one that was going to spread the truth. Now, he was… just another variant. The same Mobius he had first met, who was just trying to do his job. Maybe he could do this all over again, find a way to get Mobius to believe him. 

Or... Or what if there were multiple TVA's now? All those branches were no longer just branches, but entirely new timelines. New universes that would, ultimately, clash with one another. So maybe, somewhere out there, was the true Mobius from his timeline. Perhaps, if he explained everything to them, to this TVA - tried to find a way for them to understand that his timeline was the only one that didn't involve all-out chaos? 

But it seemed unlikely. This was… different. There were no more lies about the TVA in this timeline, it seemed. No timekeepers. Just him. They might already know that ‘He Who Remains’ is in control of everything. And… what exactly is this version of ‘He Who Remains’ like? Was this one that had already planned for eons of chaos? 

Was this TVA already planning for a multiversal war? 

No, perhaps the TVA wasn’t the way to go. He… he needed to go back there. To that place in the void, beyond the end of time. He… he had to go find her. He needed to find Sylvie. 

Simply thinking of her name lodged a hard rock of messy, almost unidentifiable emotions down his throat. Loki’s nails dug into the soft flesh of his palm as he squeezed his hands together atop the cool surface of the table, his eyes scrunched shut as he struggled to get his thoughts back under control. This pain was… new. And horrible. Dull, like a heavyweight pushing down on him, yet simultaneously sharp like a dagger being plunged through his chest. He knew what it felt like to be on the other end now, he supposed. 

It wasn’t fun, to say the least. 

Would she still even be in the citadel? In whatever time had passed, surely she would have… actually, he doesn’t know. Neither had she. The plan she had meticulously crafted her whole life had finished with slaying the one responsible for all her suffering. And now it was done… what else would she do?

‘Maybe… we could figure it out… together?’

‘Maybe…’

Loki shakes his head vigorously, trying to push away the memory that seemed to echo around the room. He had to focus. Sylvie could be…

Oh. Oh, but… this TVA had a new ruler. The one consistent factor among all the branches, was the same TVA. Which surely meant the same place at the end of time. The same citadel. And if that was the case, then…

Would everything have changed within? Would the new variant of ‘He Who Remains’ already be shacked up in his office?

Would Sylvie still be there?

Was she even alive in this timeline?

No. She couldn’t… It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t think like that. She was still out there, somewhere, he knew it. But… but where? If she had grabbed that TemPad, then… then she could be anywhere. There was only one place he could start looking, though. He had to go back to the citadel. 

“You doing any better?”

Loki startles at the familiar voice, looking up from the table he was sat on to the door that had been pushed open. He can’t help the small jolt of hope that rushes through him at the sight of Mobius, but the reality of which Mobius he was looking at quickly drains it away. 

“Happens more often than you’d think,” Mobius tells him with a soft chuckle, stepping into the room and letting the door swing shut behind him. Loki keeps a cautious eye on him as he strides over to the table, sitting down on the orange chair opposite with a tired-sounding grunt. Mobius pulls out the wooden clipboard he had tucked under his arm, placing it down onto the table and tapping his hands against it like a drum. 

“What happens more often than I’d think?” Loki asks, not even trying to hide the miserable tone seeping into his voice. 

“Cracking under pressure,” Mobius picks up the pen tucked neatly away within the clipboards holder. “This is a stressful job. We know of the importance of our work - the fact that you’re going through this now shows just how much you care.”

Loki barely holds back a snort of laughter. He had no idea…

“Can I… get you some water or something?” Mobius offers. “Sorry about doing things all… you know, like this. Treating you like some sort of variant-,”

He can’t help it. The laughter does push out of him this time - though the way none of his smile reaches his eyes definitely puts Mobius on edge. 

“No… No, I wouldn’t like any water,” Loki finally speaks once his short burst of laughter is over. “And to answer your earlier question? No. I am not doing better. In fact, I am quite far from anywhere near okay-,”

“Alright, alright…” Mobius stops his rant, hands held up in defense, as if it would somehow calm Loki down. “That’s why I’m here, okay? We’re gonna figure things out.”

“Figure what out?”

“First of all, it’d be good to know who exactly you are.”

Loki’s brow scrunches in confusion, his eyes flickering between Mobius’s peering stare and the file clipped onto the clipboard. “You’re telling me you haven’t figured it out already?”

“Well, we tried looking you up in our database,” Mobius’s hands go to the insides of his jacket, pulling out the rectangular appliance Loki was all too familiar with by now. “Weird thing, but uh… you didn’t come up on our employee register. Not a thing. Now, I know there’s a lot of us here - partly why I wasn’t too worried when I didn’t recognize you from anywhere. But… there should be some record of you here.”

Loki’s eyes were drawn to the TemPad Mobius still held in his hands. Mobius took notice of the direction of his stare, his eyes narrowing by just the slightest as he safely tucked the TemPad back into his jacket pocket. It was only as his hand went into his pocket, moving the side of his suit away from his body, did Loki catch sight of the pruning stick holstered by his side. 

“How about we start with a name?” Mobius asks. 

He could lie here. Spout out some random name, send Mobius searching for the records once again. It could give him more time, put together at least some semblance of a plan. And yet, on the other hand… There was that urge, that nagging feeling deep down to tell the truth. He still wasn’t sure what the rules of this new reality were exactly. There could be a chance, however small, that the Mobius he knows still exists somewhere within the stranger sat opposite him. Maybe, if he told him his name… Mobius might get that slight tickle of ‘I know this person'. Perhaps even enough for him to go looking for secrets that change his view on the TVA forever. 

It was worth a shot. 

“Loki,” Loki answers, his eyes searching deep into Mobius’s face for any sign of familiarity. “My name is Loki.”

But there’s nothing from Mobius. No light-bulb-over-the-head moment of realization he was hoping for. He simply shakes his head in a nod, before scribbling down his name upon the record sheet in front of him. 

“And it seems you already knew who I was,” Mobius mutters as he finishes writing something down that Loki can’t see from this angle. “Though, not too sure how. I mean, it’s not like…”

Mobius pauses, an almost curious look on his face as he looks at Loki. “…Have we met before? No offense, but I meet a lot of analysts in my work, and… I can’t say I remember us ever meeting.”

Loki gave Mobius a strained smile. “What’s the point? You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, anyway.”

That got Mobius’s attention. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, leaning forward in his chair. “Try me.”

Loki was about to shake his head. Moments away from spouting out some other lie, something to get him out of this mess. But then his eyes are drawn back to the pruning stick he knows is hidden behind Mobius’s suit, and he realizes… there’s only one way this can go. He needs to get back to the citadel, and to do that, he needs to go back to the Void and - somehow - enchant Alioth again. It was a stupid plan, he knew that fully, but there was no other choice. He needed to find Sylvie - and this was the only way to start looking for her. 

Either Mobius believes him, or he prunes him.

Win-Win. 

“We messed it all up,” Loki confesses once more. “The sacred timeline. The original one - the one I’m from. That’s where I was before I was sent here.”

“The original one?”

“Yes. We were… we were trying to set everything free. The timelines, the variants, the TVA, everything. We needed to bring it to an end, bring him to an end, and-,”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a second,” Mobius stops him, holding out a hand. “You needed to bring who to an end?”

“Your leader. I believe your strange clock mascot likes to call him ‘He Who Remains.’ But, where I’m from, you all didn’t know he was your leader. He created these androids, three reptilian creatures he called ‘The Time-Keepers’. You all false fully believed to be doing their work, but you weren’t! It was all his! He was lying to you, to all of us, and… He… he offered us something. A way to… to stop the timeline from erupting into chaos. We thought he was lying, that the whole TVA was a lie, but… it wasn’t. It’s already happened, don’t you see? We killed him. We killed him, and it started all of this. And I did know you - a different you. But now it’s all changed, and you… you’re not the you I know, anymore.”

The silence that stretches on between them is almost unbearable. Mobius still looked as calm as ever, quite the difference to Loki who had become worked up, leaning far enough across the table that it dug into his stomach, hands outstretched almost in pleading. 

“Okay…” Mobius was the first to speak, picking up his pen once again. “You said ‘we’ a few times in there. Who’s ‘we?’”

Loki opened his mouth, ready to let her name roll off his tongue, but it remains frozen in place. He didn’t know where exactly this whole conversation would end. The very last thing he wanted to do was send another version of the TVA on a manhunt for Sylvie - again. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said hurriedly. “You need to understand - your leader? He’s not the only one of himself. It’s all because of him, that this whole thing started.”

“You’re telling me that ‘He’ is just a variant?” Mobius’s voice was tense, clearly struggling to keep up his professionalism here. Loki could already tell he didn’t believe his story in the slightest - and he certainly didn’t appreciate Loki calling his leader a ‘variant’.

“It’s the whole reason he started this place,” Loki continued on anyway. “The other versions of him? All they want to do is conquer. They want to rule over every other timeline there is. And they won't stop. There will be all-out war, Mobius. Across all the different timelines.”

Mobius only nodded at him, his expression impossible to read as he reached back into his pocket again. The TemPad was back into his hands, and Loki’s vision filled with the memory of being trapped in that time-loop, reliving the same memory over and over again. Mobius tapped lazily at the screen, glancing up to Loki a few times, switching between the screen and him. 

“Look, I get it - you don’t believe me,” Loki stretched forward, and Mobius immediately pulled himself away. “But just-,” Loki frantically gestured to the ugly little computer monitor sat in the middle of the desk. “Look me up! Look up my name, and you’ll see. You’ll find my file-,”

“I’ve already looked,” Mobius interrupted him. Something in his expression had changed. He was still guarded, still looked just as disbelieving as he did prior, but there was also… a general sense of uncertainty spread across his face. “Just now, I mean.”

“Right? And?”

“Well, it’s… it’s a strange thing…” Mobius uttered softly, stuffing the TemPad back into his pocket, staring at nothing as he found himself lost in his own thoughts. “You have no file, Loki.”

It felt like his heart had come to a sudden and abrupt stop. It… it wasn’t possible. How was that possible? Mobius had told him, hadn’t he? He was one of the most frequent, pain in the arse variants they had to deal with. And now… he wasn’t on their files?

In this timeline, did he… not exist?

“What?” Loki spluttered out. 

“Mean’s that someones messed up their job-,” Mobius says with a pinched expression, the chair screeching as he stands up from it. “Someone must have brought you in when they didn’t need to - took you from the timeline you were supposed to be on. No wonder you’re confused-,”

“I don’t-,”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this,” Mobius promised, scooping the clipboard up from the table. “We’ll find whichever Hunter brought you in, get you in front of the judge - they’ll make sure you get back to your timeline. You haven’t done anything wrong; there was probably just some kind of mix-up with the confusion of all these new branches and-,”

“DON'T YOU GET IT!” Loki shouted out to Mobius, one last desperate attempt to convince him. Mobius startled at the sudden yell, stopping any movements he was about to make. “This is because of me! If I was brought in by your workers from my timeline, then why the hell did I come wearing one of your TVA uniforms?! I even had the damn Variant jacket for crying out loud - that you gave me!”

“Calm down - you’re just confused-,”

“I can’t calm down! I… I need to go back. I need to go back to the edge of time, the end of the void, and fix this! I… I don’t even know how, but… I have to try. I have��to.”

Loki hated the look Mobius was giving him right now. He much preferred the cocky, equally as manipulative interrogator he got from his Mobius. This Mobius was just looking at him with… with pity. Like he was saddened by the poor, pathetic Variant who was losing his mind.

“We will fix this, okay?” Mobius assured him, soft and quiet, and Loki felt close to ripping his hair out in frustration. He was already beginning to turn away from him, one foot in front as he moved towards the door. “We’ll get you home-,”

Mobius didn’t even see the movement as Loki lunged forward, turning around and looking on in disbelief as Loki grabbed hold of the end of the pruning stick sticking out from his suit jacket. Mobius scrambled to dig his TemPad out from his jacket, just waiting for the moment that the Variant in front of him would activate the pruning stick and prune him with it. 

Only… his fingers still, frozen above the button on his TemPad as he sees Loki step away from him. There’s a look of both dread and utter determination on Loki's face as he activates the pruning stick and then - to both Mobius’s disbelief and horror - holds the pruning stick towards him, ready to self-prune. 

Loki’s view shifts. One second he’s staring at Mobius’s shocked face, the stick in front of him held primed and ready. Then Mobius’s fingers slam down on the TemPad, and the world shifts around him. He’s suddenly right back where he was a second ago, stood right in front of Mobius. There’s not enough time to react, not expecting the shift in position, but Mobius was prepared; grabbing hold of the stick once more, he yanks it back towards him whilst simultaneously shoving the hand holding the TemPad into Loki’s chest, sending him sprawling onto the floor. 

Mobius holds the pruning stick close to his side, staring down at Loki in bewilderment at what just happened. Loki doesn’t even bother to get back up. He doesn’t even look at Mobius. He remains sitting on the floor, head hung low and eyes closed tight.

He was so very, very tired. 

“What…” Is all Mobius can say at first, looking down to the weapon he held in his hands, and then back over to Loki. “You were… you were about to prune yourself…”

Loki doesn’t answer him. He didn’t see the point anymore. 

“...Why?”

Loki just about glances up at Mobius. It wasn’t like he’d understand. “It’s the only way. I need to find her.”

Mobius still looked just as baffled - not that he could blame him. “What do you mean it’s the only way? And who the hell is her?”

Loki feels his jaw clenching involuntary, the pressure of it rumbling in his ears, teeth squeaking and creaking in protest. “Just… get it over with.��You prune all the other damn variants anyway, so why not me? Prune me, throw me in a time loop again - I don’t care anymore.”

“Again? I hadn't even met you before 'till-,”

“PRUNE ME!” Loki yells from the floor, his voice sounding unnatural to even him as it echoes back towards him. 

The fight drains out of him just as quick as it comes. Mobius still has that same damn pitiful look on his face, and he can't stand to look at it anymore. Loki drops his head into his hands, pushing his fingers through his hair and grabbing hold of clumps of it, yanking tight until he felt the sharp pain of it across his scalp. 

 “I’m not gonna prune you,” Mobius says so quietly, Loki nearly misses it. “Least, not till I figure out exactly what’s going on here. This could all still be a simple mistake-,”

“It’s not,” Loki interrupts dejectedly, his head still buried in his hands. “Not that it matters if I’m telling you the truth. No one seems to believe me when I tell it, anyway…”

The silence he gets in response is almost stifling. Enough time passes with nothing said in response that Loki pulls his head back up, only to be greeted by… nothing. The room was empty, and Mobius was nowhere in sight. He had somehow managed to sneak out of the room without making a noise. 

Alone again.

* * *

He might have fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure. It certainly felt like he had drifted in and out of consciousness - but there’s a good chance he just found himself sinking in and out of his thoughts, instead. He had managed to move from the center of the room - but not far enough to get himself back up on the chair. He had found his way to the wall, finding some sense of comfort in the wall pressed against his back. A sense of… security.

‘Well, I never sit with my back to a door.’

The sounds of commotion from outside the door snap him out of his memories. He scrapes up what little energy he had left to look to the sound; of pounding footsteps and muffled shouts getting closer and closer. Something was going down. It was only a matter of time before they stormed through that door, and-

Something shifts out of the corner of his eye. A dot, golden and gleaming, suspended in mid-air. He knows what it is before it even expands, jumping to his feet with a burst of energy he didn’t even know he had left. The time-door shimmers just in front of him, inviting him into the unknown beyond. The sounds of chaos from beyond the door had only grown more frantic, coming closer to the door with every second he remains standing in place

He makes up his mind.

Loki reaches forward, jumping through and into the time-door just as the physical door behind him slams open. He doesn’t even get a chance to see who was coming for him before he’s gone from the TVA.

Loki stumbles forward as he exits the time-door, his rushed entrance kicking up pools of water beneath his feet. There's a click, and suddenly his neck feels a whole lot lighter, the TVA collar around his neck falling into the soaked pavement below. He could barely see a thing past the rain pounding down on him, soaking every inch of his clothes in as little as a second. The howling wind around him seemed to bite into his skin, the raindrops feeling like small blades as they shot down against his body. 

And yet, somehow, he knew. The moment he stepped into this place, the moment he felt the rain atop his skin, he knew. He had been here before. 

Loki looks back to the time-door, waiting for the inevitable moment the TVA burst through it. But he only lays eyes on it for a few seconds more before it collapses in on itself, leaving him in nothing but the faint glow of the neon signs ahead.

And there, hidden within the shadows, was where he saw her. Sensed her. She was nothing more than a dark silhouette at this distance, watching him carefully from afar. 

“Sylvie…” Loki whispers, mostly to himself, unable to be heard past the storm raging around them. The sense of relief, of pure joy that overtook him was something he had never known before. His feet are moving forward before he even realizes it, picking up in pace the closer he gets to her. And, miraculously, she was walking towards him, too. 

The instinct of it was overwhelming. Every part of him screamed to get back to her, to be back by her side. He wanted, needed to know that she was okay. He wanted to grab hold of her, to hold her in his arms and-

He stops. So does she. Loki’s eyes fixate on the blade held limply in her hands, the dark liquid he sees coating its end steadily dripping onto the ground as the rain hits it. No doubt the blood of him, he knows. On that same hand he could see the TemPad secured snuggled around her hand, its few cracks of gold in its marble-like surface shining through the darkness. 

She didn’t seem to be holding it like she planned on wielding it against him. They were close enough now for him to see her face in the glowing light of the supermarket’s signs. He knows full well that the droplets of water running down her face are not only because of the rain- mostly because he himself feels the burn of a few stray tears escaping his eyes. 

It was all still so vivid in his mind; the sharp bite of her steel against his neck; her trembling arms underneath his hands as he begged her; a type of euphoria he’s never known as she closed the distance between them, foolishly sinking into the feeling of ‘rightness’ at the taste of her against his lips, eagerly chasing them as she tried to bring it to an end. 

But the pain… oh, he vividly remembers that too; of the shock of feeling himself be flung back by her magic, unable to scramble back to the time-door in time before she had shut it - shut herself- from him. He didn’t know what to do with that pain. He was used to pain - harnessed it, even. It was easy to let the pain turn to anger, to drive him towards his goal. But he had been drowning in this pain, one had never had to experience before. There was… nothing. The world had been sucked out from underneath him, everything that had started to make sense taken away, and he could do was nothing but… sit. Sit, and replay that moment over and over again. What could he have done differently? What did he do wrong? 

What did he need to do for her to trust him as much as he had trusted her?

And worst of all... Why didn't he feel angry? He should be bitter, should be clinging onto that sting of betrayal. But it simply wasn't there. Not anymore. Not with her just a few paces away from him. He didn't care about what had happened, or what she had done to him. All he cared about was that she was here, and she was okay. 

And that scared him more than anything. 

Loki started forward again, closing the gap between them in just a few strides. It's of great relief that she doesn't push him away - or stab him if he's being honest - as he all but collides into her. He pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight, pulling her close until she was all but engulfed into his chest.

"Sylvie," He breathes her name in relief, not even bothering to hide the tears that squeezed past his closed eyelids. "I was... I was terrified something might have happened, that you... Oh, thank the gods you're okay..."

Sylvie's arms have a weak grip around him, her entire body tense as she's pinned under his embrace. He pulls her away from him, holding her at arm's length as his eyes furiously scan across her face, as if to reassure himself that she was indeed okay. 

“Seems we’re both a fan of the dramatics,” Loki can’t help but say, gesturing to the supermarket behind her with the smallest of smiles. “You’re not going to try and strangle me with a hoover again, are you?”

"Don't-," Sylvie starts, her voice clipped and strained. "Please, just... No jokes." 

Lightning strikes somewhere nearby, a particularly large fork that he's half-convinced could only be conjured by his brother. The strike lights up the darkness that enveloped them, allowing him the briefest of glances of every detail of her face through the murky gray of the night. The twist of pain on her face is the first thing his mind notes. Yet, despite the pain, his chest still constricted tightly at the beauty of her that shone through. . He had never felt so torn, so overtaken by the need to comfort, battling against the sting he still feels at the reminder of their parting. 

"Why here?" Loki asks her. Standing out in the pouring rain with an apocalypse-level hurricane looming nearby wasn't exactly the best place for a conversation. "Why did you take us back to where we met?"

Sylvie glances down at the TemPad on her wrist. "I don't know. I just knew I had to pick an apocalypse, and... This was the first one I thought of."

He nods at her answer, the movement getting a few soaked pieces of hair to plaster onto his face. 

"Aren't you going to say something?" Sylvie suddenly snapped, and he found himself taken aback by the sudden hostility. "I know you want to. You... You have to be angry at me. Want to yell at me, say I told you so-,"

Loki could only blink down at her in surprise for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he struggled to come up with a response. "I...what? Is that why you brought me here? For me to yell at you?" 

"No-,"

"Then... Why did you bring me here?" Loki can't help but let a little bit of frustration slip through into his voice. "I thought that... That after what happened, this was it. That you were just...done with me. Didn't need me anymore. And now, I… What do you want from me?" 

Sylvie flinches somewhat at his use of words, reminded of the night he had said those very words in this very place. Sylvie swallows harshly, looking away from him for a moment and to the ground. She shakes her head, holding her head high as she looks back to him. "I need you to tell me I did the right thing,” The confession comes out shakier than she probably intended to, judging by the flash of annoyance he sees on her face. “I did the right thing.”

Loki wasn’t too sure if she meant to say that as a statement, or a question. She certainly didn’t sound too sure of herself right now. “Would you believe me if that’s what I told you?”

The look she shot up at him made the weight in his stomach sink heavier. It was the same look she gave him when she thought he wanted the throne. He wanted nothing more for that look to be gone. “No. No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”

Loki sighed softly, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her disappointed face anymore. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking a risk and reaching out, gently wrapping his hands around her upper arms. She didn’t immediately pull away, or smack his hands away, so he counted that as a success. 

“You did the right thing-,” Loki began carefully. Sylvie frowned up at him, mouth partly open to point out that she had already said he wouldn’t believe him, but Loki carried on before she could get anything out. “-For you. And I get it, okay? I understand why you did it-,”

“No, you don’t-,” Sylvie spits out, one hand shooting up to grab hold of his hand on her arm. “You got to live most of your life. You had a chance to grow up in your home, with your family. You’ve only had to deal with the TVA for a few days; I’ve been up against them nearly my entire life. And it didn’t even matter! Everything I did, every attack I made against the TVA, was apparently supposed to happen! I had no free will! No one does but him! And I stopped it! I freed everyone!”

“Yes, you did,” Loki agrees with her, trying to keep his voice calm to temper the heat in hers. “And I’m not saying that that part of all this is a bad thing. People deserve to have their freedom, the decision to do whatever they want with their life.”

“Then why the hell did you try and stop me?” Sylvie asks, making an attempt to rip his hands off her. “If that’s the way you felt, why did you-,”

“Because I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes as I have!” Loki exclaims, fighting off her attempts at shaking him off, digging his fingers in, and giving her a slight shake. “Making that decision right then and there, after everything He told us; I could see it in your face, Sylvie. The hate you felt for that man, all that pent-up rage you had kept buried down, fueling you your entire life - that’s all you could focus on in that very moment. And I know what that feels like! And I know what that awful, all-encompassing regret feels like after. That’s why, Sylvie. I just wanted you to take a minute, a moment outside of all your emotions - and I know that’s easier said than done. I thought that… maybe you would trust me enough to at least listen. And… I don’t blame you for it; for everything you did back there. But I wanted… I wanted to do what I could to make sure you didn’t have to live with the same regrets I have.”

“Why?” Sylvie whispers, not trusting her voice enough to speak any louder than that. “Why do you care?”

“I wish I knew,” Loki says, chuckling despite the tears that continued to build in his eyes. “I’ve never felt this way. Not like… this. My whole life, I only ever focused on myself. Looked out for me. And now, for the first time in my life… that’s no longer the case. Now… all I care about is you.”

Sylvie gave him a strained smile, shaking her head slowly from side to side. “I am you, remember?”

The corner of Loki’s lips hitched up in the slightest of smiles - one he didn’t really mean. “Yes… except, you’re the one who said that I’m not you.”

Even Sylvie winced at the reminder of her last words to him. It was strangely reassuring to him that she looked pained at his pain. Surely, that must have meant she cared about him in some capacity, right?

“I meant what I said back there,” Loki let his hand slide down the soaked material of her sleeve, his hand coming to a stop at the base of her wrist. His thumb lightly brushes against her pulse-point, able to feel the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood around her body, same as his. “I wanted you to be okay, and when I thought of you killing Him, and the guilt you would have to carry if he was telling the truth, and we doomed infinite amounts of timelines? I knew you weren’t going to be okay.”

Sylvie could only look at him, taking in the earnest, pleading look he was giving her. She wanted nothing more than to believe him, to take that risk and fall straight into the undying trust he so easily seemed to have in her. But trust didn’t come easy. There had never been anyone else but herself to trust. 

“But, if you had taken that moment?” Loki continued, catching her off guard. “If you had just talked to me, thought about it - and you still came to the decision you needed to kill him? If you thought that that was what was going to make you okay? Then I would have handed you the dagger myself.”

Sylvie could only shake her head at him, her fruitless attempts to keep her tears at bay infuriating her as she feels them slide down her face, mixing with the rain that quickly washed them off. “I couldn’t take that risk. He might have been telling the truth, or maybe he was lying just like the rest of them, and you were-,” A gasp catches in her throat as his hand slides further down, his fingers fitting perfectly between her own as he holds them in a comforting grip. “-You were supposed to be on my side. And then you weren’t. This whole time, every moment we spent, it felt like… like you had just thrown it all away. I knew that, with any other person, I should have killed you right then and there.”

Loki can’t fight back the shiver that ripples through his body, one he knows full well isn’t because of the chill of the storm around them. It had felt like his blood had run cold at her words, throat tightening painfully at the thought. 

“But I couldn’t,” Sylvie admits to him, and it sounded like it pained her to do so. “Because you were saying all those things, and… and I believed you - because I felt it, too. I didn’t want to hurt you, and… and I wanted to be okay, too. I couldn’t kill you, but… I couldn’t let you stop me, either.”

The thunder from above is almost deafening, the power of it rumbling against the pavement underneath their feet. It was strangely comforting to hear. It reminded him of home, of family. 

“And so you did it,” Loki states the obvious. “You did what you had set out to do. You killed He Who Remains.”

Sylvie nods, and the blank look in her eyes sends a dagger through his chest. This was a moment where she should have felt triumphant. If things had been different, they would not be here. Not like this. They would have been celebrating, felt accomplished at doing what was the right thing for once - not just for them, but for the entire Universe - and every other Universe out there that had been deemed unsuitable to exist by a single dictator.

But this wasn’t that moment. 

“I saw Mobius.”

Loki feels himself freeze up involuntary at the name. He hated it. He hated that his memories of his friend had been tainted, now nothing more than… a stranger. Perhaps even a potential adversary in the near future… 

“After I…” Sylvie trails off, swallowing harshly with a painful clench of her throat. “After I killed Him, I… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t feel better. I... I couldn’t get you out of my head. I wondered if… maybe you were right, but I… I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Even when I managed to pick myself back up, and saw the space outside the citadel, within the void at the edge of time, and what I saw-,”

“What? What did you see?”

“It looked like stars…” Sylvie whispered, her eyes unfocused as she replayed the scene in her mind. “The timeline, all those branches… There were so many… And I should have been thinking about all those people in those timelines that would never have to live with the fear of taking a step out of line and finding themselves, their family, everything they ever knew taken from existence. But I didn’t. I thought about how many of him were out there. How many would be scrambling to get right back into that damn office to claim their throne once again…”

Her eyes came back into focus, swiveling up to meet his unwavering gaze. “And then I thought of you. I thought you would be safe in the TVA. Safe away from me. But once I saw all those branches, I realized that… I could have sent you anywhere. I might have just killed you myself.”

“You didn’t,” Loki rushes to assure her. “Granted, I’d much rather you hadn’t pushed me through that time-door in the first place - the fall quite hurt, actually-,”

“Loki,-”

“Right, no jokes. Sorry.”

The weary look on Sylvie's face is one he's seen many times before whenever people are subjected to the torture that is interacting with him. "When I made my way back, and you weren't there, I thought that I... That it might be too late."

Loki's lip hitch into a half-smile. "You seem to forget that I am capable of looking after myself."

Sylvie narrows her eyes at him, and it was enough for him to doubt any and all of his combat and survival skills. "Says the guy who planned on running towards a giant cloud that ate everything in its path and stabbing it." 

"In my defense, that usually works."

"Oh really? So it worked on Thanos too, then?" 

Loki placed a hand over a heart in mock hurt and... well, perhaps a little bit of hurt considering that's the only death of his where he was destined to die. "Now that's just cold, Sylvie."

He doesn't mind the hurt too much, though. Not when his over-the-top reaction pulls a small yet genuine smile out of Sylvie, one he finds himself mirroring without much of a thought. He knew that he wanted to do all he could to keep that smile on her face for the rest of their lives. 

Oh, he really was in deep... When he finds his brother once more somewhere out within the multiverse - his version of his brother - he knows he's going to be set for days upon days of teasing and ridicule.

Or...witness the terror on his brother's face as he's confronted with two Loki's...

Their small carefree moment doesn't last long, though. The weight of the situation comes crashing back down on them, wiping the smile from Sylvie's face as quickly as it had come. "The TVA is... In shambles right now; which is what I always wanted, but... I saw that... That statue, of him, and I just knew, I... I knew it was all so much worse now."

"I take it that was you that caused all that commotion outside my door, then?" 

Sylvie nodded her head, and Loki was surprised to see that pained look back on her face again. "It's because I tried talking to Mobius."

Loki grimaces at the reminder. The hurt of what had happened never seemed to lessen. "Yes, I... I might have made the same mistake."

"They seemed a tad bit preoccupied with everything going on, but... Mobius definitely seemed on edge."

"Well, it was twice in one day that someone he didn't know came up to him spouting nonsense and claiming they know him. I think he might be smart enough to realize something's not right."

"Considering the security that swarmed me, I'd say so," Sylvie huffs. "Quickly realized it wasn't a situation I was going to fight my way out of."

"How did you find me?" Loki asks. 

"Mobius," Sylvie answers, and the guilt that crosses her features makes his stomach clench uncomfortably. "I... I had to take him hostage. Was the only way to stop their hunters from surrounding me. Opened up a time-door and just... dragged him through with me."

"Is he...?" Loki didn't even want to finish that sentence. 

"He's okay," Sylvie's answer helps to loosen the knot in his stomach. "I enchanted him. He fought back a bit, but... I got through in the end. Found out where they were keeping you, and... Opened up another time door to get you out of there."

"And... What did you do with Mobius?" 

"He's in a time-loop," Sylvie says, the smile on her face no way near malicious. "It's a good one. I think there was a jet ski?" 

Loki huffs out a laugh of relief. "Good, that's... That's good."

"I told him, you know," Sylvie says, the serious tone to her voice catching his attention. "I told him the truth - about him being a variant. How everyone that works for the TVA is a variant."

"Did he believe you?" Loki asks. 

"He already knew," Sylvie tells him, and it feels like another blow. "Whatever this version of the TVA is, and whatever version of Him rules it, it seems he was a bit more truthful with his workers than the last one," The frown on Sylvie's face deepens more and more with every word she speaks. "They just... don't care. They believe they were selected for a higher purpose - like it makes it okay they were ripped away from their lives."

"Ah... I suppose that might make it a bit more difficult to sway Mobius onto our side again," Loki says, his overwhelming feeling of dejection seeping into his voice. 

Sylvie's eyes drop down to the ground, suddenly finding herself unable to meet Loki's gaze. Loki frowns as he notices her avoidance of him, craning his head down to try and meet her gaze once more, only to find her stubbornly focusing on a drenched piece of paper as it floated by. "Sylvie...?" 

"Loki, I..." Sylvie starts, closing her eyes from the sight of what she could only describe as 'sad puppy eyes'. "I... I still don't know what to do."

"About... What?" 

"Everything," She forces out. "I should feel accomplished now, shouldn't I? Satisfied, that I finally killed the man who took my life from me?" 

Loki barely pushed down the urge to reach out for her again. He had a feeling she wouldn't take too kindly to physical attempts at comfort right now. "I take it that means you don't feel that way?"

"No," Sylvie whispers, and Loki could tell she hated to admit that. "I just felt... Empty. Because if he was telling the truth, and... And you were right? There's just gonna be a bunch more of Him out there. It feels like I've done nothing. Nothing but-," 

The sentence gets stuck in Sylvie's throat, forcing her mouth shut with an aggregated shake of her head. Loki lets his instincts guide him, taking a step towards her, arm outstretched ready to comfort. But then Sylvie takes a step away from him, just a small single step, but it feels like she's trying to put miles and miles of distance between them. 

"What are you doing to me?" Sylvie gets out between clenched teeth, threading her fingers through her hair in a way that Loki knows he does when he's stressed. 

"I... I don't know?" Loki said, sounding rather baffled by her exclamation. It wasn't exactly like he wanted to aggregate her further - far from it - rather... There was something about the way his heart leaped up to his throat, wondering if whatever she said to him next would reignite that small spark of hope still burning in his chest, or extinguish it before it can fully catch aflame. 

"This isn't - wasn't - who I am. I've never needed anyone in my life! This whole time, it's been only me. Me who kept me alive, me who's been carrying out this plan for years. And then I did it. I accomplished that, and... I didn't think about the victory I had earned. I didn't think of how I was finally free to live my life, make my decisions and know they're solely my own. All I could think about was you."

Loki froze in place. He didn't dare move, didn't even dare breathe. To say he was transfixed was an understatement. It seems he was wrong, in the end. She had found her own way to enchant him...

"I've never had... Companionship. I've never known what it's like to have someone by my side, someone who... Who understands. When I pushed you through that time door, I thought that I'd be okay. I'd been alone my whole life, I was used to it. But when I was sat there, alone in that office, and I wasn't okay. I was lonely, in a way I've never been before, and I didn't want to, but... I missed you. And... I wanted - needed - for you to be okay, too.

"Now, it's... it's all so complicated. After... After what I did, it's... I feel like I can't even trust myself anymore, let alone..." Sylvie trailed off, bowing her head down so Loki wouldn't see the tears that were ready to spill again. Not that he even needed to see them to know they were there. He could feel the pain radiating off her in waves as much as he could feel his own. "I'm sorry."

Loki nearly couldn't hear that last part. Whether that be because of the overwhelmingly strong blast of wind that knocked down the weather battered sign above the supermarket, or because she had purposefully uttered it so quiet like she didn't want him to hear it. He was fairly certain it was the first time he had heard her say those words to him. 

They don't come very often from a Loki, that he knew for sure. 

"I'm sorry, too," 

Sylvie nods her head, still bowed, her face pinched as she struggled to bury her emotions back down. 

"You know, back in that interrogation room, I had time to think," Loki starts, giving her a sad smile in preparation for what he's about to say next. "I, um... I thought over that dagger metaphor I said before, and I think I've got something." 

The confusion of what he's doing at least manages to distract Sylvie a little. She still eyes him with understandable caution as a burst of lime green light manifests a dagger into his hands, but the wary look in her eyes disappears almost immediately as he holds the dagger out for her to hold. She slowly reaches out, wrapping her hands around the thin handle and lifting it out of his grasp. She raises an eyebrow at him, eyes flickering between him and the new blade she held. 

"Love... Is like a dagger," Loki couldn't help but smile, brought right back to that day on the train, with everything a little a lot dizzy, and warm, and nice. 

"It's a weapon to be wielded far away, or up close," Loki continues, gesturing to the weapon in her hands, still pointed at him. "You can see yourself in it. It's beautiful... Until it makes you bleed. But ultimately, when you reach for it-" 

Loki's hands shifted in a blur of movement, taking Sylvie by surprise. His hands had shot out to reach for the dagger - but not for the handle. Instead, he had wrapped his hands around the blade itself, the sharp edges of the weapon biting into the soft flesh of his palm. She jumped at the rapid movement, but found that - to her surprise - she had not responded by trying to move the weapon out of his reach. She had instead dropped the sword she held in her other hand, the clang of it hitting the concrete below echoing around the parking lot. Her now free hand had shot up in an attempt to stop him from cutting himself on the blade, looking up to him in utter bewilderment. 

"You reach for it too quickly-," Loki didn't even wince at the sharp sting across his hand. He slowly pulled his hand away from the blade, suppressing a shiver at the feel of her hand partly covering his. He held his hand out to her, revealing the shallow cut as a thin stream of blood oozed from the newly opened wound. "-And you only end up hurting yourself."

For the most part, Loki had been expecting for Sylvie to call him an idiot for cutting his hand open. Which, while he had no doubt she was probably thinking that, wasn’t at all what she did. She shot him the tiniest of smiles, removing her hand -that of which she had used to try and stop him from doing said idiotic move - from the blade, revealing a slice in her own palm that mirrored his. “And more often than not, you both end up getting hurt.”

Sylvie could already see the blame Loki was placing on himself as he saw her wound, unable to fight back the bubble of warmth at the clear concern on his face as he took her hand in his, completely disregarding his own wound. There was another burst of light from his magic, and that bubble of warmth only grew at the sight of the bandages he had materialized. His hands were methodical yet oh so gentle as he applied the bandage around her hand, pressing his fingers into her palm tenderly once he was done, as if he wished he had the power to magic away her injuries. 

“Probably should have done that after you bandaged yourself,” Sylvie says, biting back a smirk as she gestured with a pointed look of her eyes down to his handiwork, handing him his dagger back.

The dagger disappeared back to where he had manifested it from, glancing down to the bandage he had applied around her hand and seeing his own blood smeared across the once pristine white material. “Right… I wasn’t really thinking about that.”

She shook her head at him, though this time with nothing but fondness for the man in front of her as she slid the other piece of bandage he had left from his hand. Despite the fact that he had just done it for her, Loki still looked baffled as he watched her begin to bandage up his hand just as carefully as he had, like the thought of her returning the favor would have never crossed his mind. 

Sylvie finished tying the knot to his bandage, giving his hand a soft pat as she does so. Her hand begins to slide away from his, and almost on instinct does Loki reach out to grab hold of hers once more. Her hand seems to fit in his like a mold, his thumb gently caressing across her knuckle whilst her thumb comes to a rest at the base of his wrist. Typically… touch wasn’t a thing she welcomes. Touch usually meant a tight grasp around her wrist, dragging her from her home. Touch usually meant the hard rack of knuckles across her jaw, or a swift kick of a boot to her ribs. Touch usually meant meaningless nights with no name strangers, trying to feel something other than the desire for revenge that kept her going, as worlds upon worlds came to an end. 

But with Loki… touch was the feeling of his hand under hers, letting her make the first move as they stared out to the lake, waiting for their coming death. Touch was his back against hers, letting her know that he - quite literally - had her back; letting her know that she wouldn’t have to fight the TVA alone. Touch was his hands wrapped around her arms, the lightest of touches that told her that as much as he wanted to hold her, he would let go if she asked him. Touch was the first set of lips against her own that wasn’t one of end-of-the-world desperation; the first to make her heart pound against her ribcage as she pulled away from him, only for his lips to chase hers once again - and letting herself fall straight back into him. 

“So, love is… something that can be twisted without meaning to. You might reach for it too quickly, and in doing so… you only end up hurting one another,” Loki broke her out of her thoughts. Sylvie’s eyes danced across his face as he spoke, though Loki’s stare was still fixated on her hand in his, and the wound he knew that lay just below his own, parallel with one another. “But… you can learn that, despite the pain…You can always find a way to heal. Together.”

His words were at least enough to pull another smile from her lips, which at the end of the day, seemed to be the only mission he wanted to succeed in. Sylvie took a deep breath in through her nose, returning his comforting squeeze on her hand with one of her own to prepare him for the coming blow. 

“I still think it’s a stupid metaphor.”

The burst of laughter that escaped Loki seemed to catch them both off guard, as close to a snort as Sylvie thinks she’s ever heard from him. 

“Well, to be fair, I was very drunk when I came up with it.”

“I thought you said you were ‘just very full’, not drunk?”

Loki’s mouth shifted into a rather comical ‘o’ shape as he tried to come up with a response, only to find that there simply wasn’t one he could use to defend himself. 

“Okay, so maybe I was drunk-,” 

Sylvie does snort at his answer. Loki huffs indigently, though the smile plastered on his face gives away the illusion of irritation. “Well alright then; what’s your metaphor for love?”

This gets her to stop laughing. Loki hadn’t entirely been expecting for her to take his question seriously, but judging by the calculated look in her eyes as she looked into his, it was something she was giving considerate thought. 

“Love…” Sylvie begins softly, the syllables of the word rolling off her tongue like she was testing the way it felt in her mouth. “Love is… a song sung to a crowded room that feels like it’s being sung to you; of words that remind you of home.”

Sylvie felt Loki’s grip on her hand tighten for just a moment, though she could tell he was being careful not to touch the tender wound on her palm. “Love is… lingering glances where you both don’t care to hide it, even as the world falls apart around you.”

Sylvie didn’t know if it was Loki that shuffled closer to her, or if she shuffled closer to him. Not that it mattered much. They always just seemed to be drawn to one another like magnets. 

“Love is… knowing that you care about someone as much as you do yourself. And the terrifying realization that… you may just care more.”  Sylvie’s voice quietened with every word she spoke, as if inviting Loki to move even closer on the excuse that he couldn’t hear her. “Love is… pretending to be cold - despite being frost giants - just to find an excuse to huddle close under a blanket; which, for the record, I’m still convinced is some kind of drapery you stole from a dining table.”

Loki tries to hide his bashful smile by bowing his head down, but it doesn’t escape Sylvie’s gaze. She placed her fingers under his chin, forcing his head up to look him straight in the eyes.

“Love isn’t a damn metaphor,” She whispered to him, savoring the sight of his Adams' apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. “Love is whatever the hell we decide it to be.”

The gap between their mouths was so small that she barely had to lean forward, her entire body melting into his as their lips slotted together. His body had seemingly turned to putty under her hands, one of them sliding up his arm to rest on his shoulder, trying to pull him even closer until his body was flush against hers. 

This one was different than the last. There was no painful tug in her chest in knowing she needed to turn him around, to get to the TemPad and get him out of the way without hurting him. She did not feel the wetness of his tears as they slid down to their joined lips; only the droplets of rain that ran down from the drenched strands of his hair. 

She did feel that same curling, burning heat in the pit of her stomach, similar to the pleasant burn of her skin wherever his hands trailed, leaving a trail of goosebumps as they moved up the back of her neck, threading his fingers through her hair. She could feel his reluctance to end this any time her lips left his, even for a moment of air, as he quickly swooped back down to reclaim her lips. The feeling of his lips were feather soft, warm, yet with a firm and addicting pressure as they slid against hers. It wasn’t until she felt the swipe of his tongue across her lips, a pleasant invitation - an eager ask for permission - that she found herself separating from him with a shaky gasp for air. Her entire body seemed to be buzzing with the after-effects of adrenaline, taken aback by the sensation of her body trying to overtake her thoughts, screaming at her for more. 

Loki’s chest heaves just as much as hers as he takes in deep gulps of air that their kiss had deprived them of, too busy with breathing in the alluring scent of each other to remember such a basic necessity. The rain still had yet to let up - which it wouldn’t, her oxygen-deprived brain reminded her - and she briefly wondered how many humans shacked up inside the supermarket behind them were watching them here, standing out in the pouring rain, kissing like -

Well… like the world was about to end.

Loki moves forward again, at first she thinks to re-initiate their kiss. Instead, she feels the comforting warmth of his forehead pressed against her own, and they both find their eyes sliding shut, any pent-up tension left in their bodies seemingly draining away. She could feel the warm puffs of air against her face every time he breathed out, matched with her own; and she had no doubt that if their breathing was matched, then the way her previously thumping heart was starting to slow down could only mean that their heartbeats were matching one another, too.

Loki’s hands had dropped down to wrap protectively around her waist, eyes still closed as he savored this moment of peace. Sylvie placed her hand delicately on his chest, though this time not to push him away. She felt the reassuring thud of his heartbeat beneath her hand, unable to suppress the satisfied smile that pulled at her lips at the way his heartbeat sped up as she dragged her fingers across his chest, curling her fingers underneath her palm. 

“We will figure this out,” He whispers down to her. Her eyes flick up to meet his, believing his sincere gaze. “Truthfully… I don’t know where to start, either. I mean, I know you spent your whole life running from them, but…”

“The TVA,” Sylvie completed the sentence Loki was clearly reluctant to speak. “You want to go back?”

“Good God, no, not that one. But… But somewhere out there is the one we know, surely? The one that our Mobius was in the middle of transforming? A TVA made of variants that didn’t know they were variants - until now.”

“And should be rightfully pissed,” Sylvie guessed with a knowing smirk. “Maybe enough to get revenge?”

“Maybe,” Loki agreed, mirroring her grin. “And I’m sure they’ll be eager to meet the person who freed them from their controlling dictator.”

Sylvie’s smile wavered at that, poking the tip of her tongue out of her mouth to wet her lips - a nervous gesture from her he’s noticed every now and then, making him wonder if he does the same thing without knowing. “And created infinite amounts of that same controlling dictator - who was apparently the best version of him…”

Loki’s eyes softened at the sight of her guilt as it began to dig its claws into her. He knows too much of that guilt, felt it too often; failed to fight off the way it tried to drag him down to that pit of self-doubt that took him eons to climb out by himself - more often than not because he refused the help of anyone that offered. 

But Sylvie won’t have to fight her way out of this alone. He’ll make sure of it. 

“An infinite amount of universes to search through, huh?” Loki wonders out loud, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “No problem.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes at his confidence - even if she knew he was greatly exaggerating it right now. “And I suppose that means an infinite amount of us are out there now, too?”

“And an infinite amount of our brother…”

“Wait, our brother?” Sylvie asked, head jerking back in surprise. “Thor is your brother?”

“Um, yes?” Loki frowned down at Sylvie, wondering what she was getting so caught up on. “Why - isn’t he yours?”

“Uh, she certainly isn’t my brother, no.”

Loki’s eyes widened as his mind caught up with what she was saying. “Oh…” He dragged out the syllable, looking out to the stars above in mock horror. “So your Thor is your… your sister?”

“Yep.”

Loki bent his head back with a bellow of genuine laughter, already picturing the glorious scenario of his brother meeting Sylvie’s version of him… Oh, what a sight would be to behold… Actually, the look on Thor’s face would probably be quite similar to the look on his face the moment Sylvie pulled the hood off her head and showed him her face for the very first time. 

“Oh, we need to get them together as soon as possible,” Loki said gleefully. “Four of us together? We’d make quite the team.”

“Do you… do you really think she’s out there somewhere?” Sylvie asks, and the vulnerability he hears in her voice stops his laughter altogether. “I barely remember her, you know. After the TVA pruned my timeline, and… and everyone with it, I had to accept that I’d never see her again.”

“If what He Who Remains was telling the entire truth?” Loki says with a shrug of his head to the side. “Then anything’s possible now. Every possibility you can think of, every step that could have been different…”

“An infinite amount of butterfly effects,” Sylvie finished for him.

“It’s almost overwhelming, isn’t it?” Loki drawls with as much sarcasm as he can muster. “Perhaps we should… break it down step by step? First things first being to find Mobius-,”

“-And find the old but improved TVA,” Sylvie adds.

“- And see just how riled up and ready for revenge they are,” Loki agrees. “And… I suppose we should probably find some more powerful allies to help us…”

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “No offense, but do you even have any other allies?”

“Well… not exactly,” Loki said with a wince. “But I’ve been acquainted with a few… highly powerful individuals. Should probably go and find the versions of them that haven’t met us before, though…”

“Hmm - I imagine they’d be a bit more willing to help when you haven’t tried to claim leadership over their home?”

He probably shouldn’t have been too surprised that she was able to guess that. 

“Something about all this still feels so… so strange,” Sylvie tells him. 

“Yes, that’d be the feeling of the need to do the right thing for others, and not just yourself,” Loki says with a grimace. “Strange feeling, I know-,”

“Oh, piss off,” Sylvie cursed with a shove to his arm, though the smile on her face took out any venom from her words. “I wasn’t trying to kill the leader of the TVA just for myself, you know.”

“And now you get to do it all over again,” Loki said with a grin, gesturing to the TemPad on her wrist; that of which had already begun glowing with a faint golden light that streaked through its surface like bolts of lightning. “He’s the one that started all of this, right? Then it shouldn’t be too far out of the question that he’s the one that can end it.”

“He did say he’d be seeing me again soon,” Sylvie mumbled, sliding her fingers across the surface of the TemPad. A door sprung to life under her command, manifesting a portal to a dimension that… well, that of which they didn’t know. The second they stepped through that door, they’d be whisked away to a universe beyond their knowing; one that could be infinitely better than the one they were currently in, or one that could be much, much worse. 

Their hands found each other once more, fingers sliding together like lock and key as they face the door together. Loki turns his head to face Sylvie the same time she does, matching shaky smiles of both nerves and anticipation on their faces. 

“Ready for another adventure?” Loki asks, and the squeeze of her hand in his gives him all the answers he needs. 

Whilst they didn’t know what would be waiting for them on the other side of the door, they had been certain that, as they stepped through the Time Door hand in hand and they disappeared out of sight as the warm glow of the portal faded, that the memory of what happened here would only belong to them as the wrath of nature let out her anger on the small town of Haven Hills, Alabama. 

But what they didn’t know was that this wasn’t the Haven Hills they knew. This was the version of Haven Hills that didn’t find itself wiped off the map, miraculously avoiding the complete and utter destruction the hurricane was predicted to inflict. It was here, for years and years later, the survivors that had taken shelter in the nearby Roxxcart would tell the stories of the mysterious strangers in the rain; who seemingly appeared together from thin air, shrouded by a veil of golden light that came and went with their arrival and exit. 

Rumors would be spread of these two people. As was such in the more religious southern state, the tale of these two strangers would be twisted into one of two angelic beings who had appeared in the glow of Heaven’s light with golden halo’s atop their head, the sheer sight of their loving embrace seemingly bringing God’s wrath to a stop. 

There were many iterations of such a story, but there was one consistent detail that remained in every iteration of this timeline's story of them: that the two of them were heroes, who had risked their lives to save the lives of many. 

And what else they didn’t know was that this was a story that would spread across multiple worlds, in multiple universes. A beacon of hope in even the dreariest of lands, the legend of these two saviors was one of whispered fantasy that wasn’t quite as much fantasy as some thought; the description of the two figures whose heads were adorned with angelic halo’s slowly changing to ones with protruding horns, no longer the devilish image that such a sight once brought. 

These hushed stories would, over time, be reduced to one word. A single word, whispered out by those in the most dire of situations, as if praying to the only God they’ve ever known. This word, this name, would reach the ears of a single man, of every version of this one man, spanning across billions upon billions of timelines. And - despite never having have met the subjects of these stories - he would speak the name out loud to himself as if it were the name of an old friend, waiting for the day they try and stop his work and he gets to greet them personally; of the two beings many people had promised would bring him down with their last, dying breath.

Loki.