#this season was Stressful and apparently this is nothing compared to what is going to happen during s6 and 7…. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rk-ocs · 1 year

Text

Really old concept notes

Carnelian world

I chose to have Lill red a girl primarily because it was way harder. I already gave her an advantage with bilingualism ( that negates itself because of her age) and no employable life skills. People like the odds stacked against the protag, right.

As a woman, biology itself worked against her. Woman in the past were viewed more as property than people. They existed for the purposes of housekeeping, bringing a bride price. and creating life. Girls that broke the mould were primarily nuns, nurses, and teachers, to quote half-broke horse (book) . Still, they didn't hold the same value as men, and often got paid less, and a lower chance of being or staying hired.

A second problem in their biology was the ability to create life. One of which is known as a period, or officially menstruation cycle. Here is a Wikipedia definition for it.

"The menstrual cycle is the regular natural change that occurs in the female reproductive system like the uterus and ovaries that make pregnancy possible.The cycle is required for the production of ovocytes, and for the preparation of the uterus for pregnancy.Up to 80% of women report having some symptoms during the one to two weeks prior to menstruation.Common symptoms include acne, tender breasts, bloating, feeling tired, irritability and mood changes. These symptoms interfere with normal life and therefore qualify as premenstrual syndrome in 20 to 30% of women. In 3 to 8%, they are severe."

In common explanation, blood comes out of your vaginia, and messes up your hormones. The only way to avoid this is to grow old enough for it to stop, or become pregnant. Pregnancy, is growing a baby inside of you, which also messes up your hormones , and body badly. Humanity, like dogs and all the other mammals, evolved to grow eggs in their stomach, rather than laying it like birds, particularly penguins. Or Pokemon apparently.

But I'm not here to talk about the dangers and inconveniences of periods at the moment, I'm here to talk about periods.

Particularly guys. First, to understand just a little if the uncomfortableness of periods borrow a pad from a mother/sister/girlfriend and wear it for three hours (a college lecture) then go, sit down on a toilet, and imagine it's covered in blood. Not only fresh blood, but dried blood. Blood dried on your butt and privates. And you can't wash it (theoretically we are in school or a movie or whatever). That feels bad enough, but we are also sore, having cramps, and hormonal. Also we might have zits on our face, which does little to improve one's mood. The hormone thing could leave our reactions anywhere from isolation seeking, to sad, to pissed off and looking for a fight, or anywhere in-between. Or all over the place. And we can't go home and declare we quit the day or something. We have to get on with our day.

The anger. I guess it's a bit like any time Zuko from ATLA, encountered the commander in season one. No not commander Shepard, commander Zhou.

Or that's one way to compare it. Anyway, that pad between your legs. That's new. Before that people would have used sea sponges if they were lucky, but probably rags or some needing frequent wash clothing. Or alternately they could go bleed in the woman's tent for a week. That's what science should be doing for humanity, beyond curing cancer. Finding a better way to deal with the cycle. After all, half the world deals with it.

Until then, when a lady in your life has her monthly, give her as much time in the bathroom as she needs, and try to be nice. Make diner/comfort food, heat up a hot water pack for her stomach, and do the dishes perhaps.

She will probably feel better clean, warm, fed, and without stress triggers (like dishes).

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Live in Living Colour story Carnelian Jordan-Ryan

I own nothing but my own Ideas. The title is from the play catch me if you can, but don't let that turn you off.

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I guess I could say, It started when I was six. When I was six, I got the necklace. It didn't do anything for two years, but bear with me, I'm trying to go by my personal timeline, not histories.

My dad had found some piece of presumably ancient artifact, and decided, "If I get this artfully wrapped up in wire and put it on a chain, this will make a good gift for my daughter." My dad spent a good deal of time underwater, working in a submarine, though I don't really remember what his job was. Perhaps he was in the navy, or a marine biologist. He wasn't the most involved person in my life even before my life took a turn for the bizarre, and I haven't spoken to him in years.

My mom was around a bit more, but what I remember most about her, Is her love for cultures. She had the idea that I could be very canadian, and had me go into various emerson schools. English, Algonquin, Mohawk, sign language, Meti French, Hindi, whatever teacher she could get that day . Anything she came across, she had me learning. It's part of why I always intentionally use accents, it helps me keep track of what I'm speaking. I think she wanted me to become a diplomat or something.

She also loved to cook. She didn't make just French dishes. She made Japanese, Mexican, Swedish, you name it, she would make it. It's probably her cooking that kick started my ability to eat any texture , taste, or intensity of food, a skill that came in quite useful during fear factor and truth or dare. I was unafraid of eating just about anything, from bugs, to swallowing vinegar, or eating chilli peppers. Mom herself, was stuck in a boring job she hated-at least from what I could tell by her frequent complaints- and making varied cuisine was her one outlet for creativity or something.

But enough about that. My dads "souvenir necklace" was something I always wore, in part to remember him by, since he was often away from home, in that submarine of his. He Write or e-mail often , but it was more like he was my uncle. With mom at her hated day job all day, and dad underwater, the person who actually looked after me on a day to day basis was my cousin who lived close by, Monique-Thierry.

Monique-Thierry is a bit of an unusual combination, for although hyphenated names are fairly popular among the French, it would usually be two combined girls named, or vice versa. Monique-Thierry's parents went the full historical swing on names when her mother was pregnant. They gave her a biblical name, a godmother's name, and a birth name. Mine did too, but her parents wanted the baby's gender to be a surprise. So they made up a set of names a boy and a girl. Then when my cousin was born, they were told that another pregnancy would be too difficult on my aunt, so they bestowed both set of names on their daughter, on her birth certificate.

Anyway, fast forward two or so years, where I am eight, and with Monique-Thierry as she worked her shift at a corner store. It was the day before my birthday, I think, and mildly raining, a rather dull weather one does not expect things to happen on. The door opened and I raced to it, probably believing it was one of my friends coming to visit, and ended up in a hostage situation, knife pressed against my neck. It was the first Near death experience in a life filled with them, and serves as a definitive moment of my life turning to the bizarre.

Of course, I didn't know that at the time, and was busy panicking about the sharp bit of metal at my neck. I couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing in my ears, but I could see Monique-Thierry slowly counting bills. He made some kind of gesture, and started to press the knife into my flesh, drawing a trickle of blood. Something crashed, and I closed my eyes, as the blade pressed much harder, but abruptly it was gone. Holding my bleeding Neck with both hands, I opened my eyes, and realized I was no longer at a corner store. I was, well at that moment in some kind of room bleeding out.

I had no idea how I got into that room. Sadly, this kind of situation would become all too familiar to me in time, and even calming. At the time I had no Idea about that, and did the most natural thing to me at the time. I started screaming, and completely flipped out. A stupid thing to do when your neck is bleeding, but such is panic.

A man came into the room, and started speaking to me in a language I didn't understand, which was a weird experience for me, because I usually had some Idea of what people were saying.

He then started making shushing sounds, which was something I did understand. Once I had calmed down he started paying attention to my Neck.

---

Jordan OC questionnaire

What would she prefer

Pancakes

Cereal with milk

Comedy

Pyjamas

Hotel

Sour

Biking

Neither

Wooden pencil

No hats

Modest clothing

Whistling

Car rides

Stormy night

Summer

Movie with friends

Chewy candy

Football

Never having to sleep

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First encounters.

"Jordan meets the Frye Twins. The Frye twins Meet Jordan."

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Jordan wakes up on a cot in an unfamiliar area. Sadly this is not an unfamiliar situation for her.

"Such strange injuries. It looks like they came from an explosion, but I heard no blast, nor is there any lingering debris. You're extremely lucky, as you were not hit anywhere serious. You wouldn't happen to be named Jordan, would you?"

Jordan nods. The Identity Jordan, is a pretty important one to her, and has strong ties to a time she is fond of.

"Alright then Jordan, I have a job for you. I need you to watch my kids for a few weeks, while I go and take care of something. It shouldn't be too hard, just make sure they do their chores, keep Jacob from running off during training, and teach them how to skin food and cook it, without giving themselves food poisoning."

Jordan went back to lying on the cot. 'Just what did I do in the future that convinced him to trust me with his kids?' She wondered.

------

"Are you by any chance, a traveling artist, looking for work?"

Jordan frowns. So does Jacob. It's one thing to know that she had met them in the future for the first time, but seeing her look so much younger than he is used too ,is shocking. She looks about fourteen, and much more innocent, uncertain, and afraid, her body already tensed to run if this goes badly.

"I might be." She says uncertainly, taking a step back, staring at him intently.

"Then Jordan, I do believe I have a job for you?"

She smiles tensely. "I do believe you have me at a disadvantage. "

"I'm Jacob. And I would like you to find some information for me."

-----

Around Mid morning, Jordan feels well enough to get off the cot and explore her soundings. She heads down the stairs, wondering where the kitchen will be. If nothing else, she will feel better getting some protein in her. Hopefully eggs.

She finally finds the Kitchen, and sees two kids waiting at the doors. She knows them, which is surprisingly not weird for her.

"Evie and Jacob. What would you like for breakfast this fine morning?"

"It's not breakfast." Evie points out.

"Ok. Brunch then?"

"Brunch?" Jacob asks.

"That meal you have in between breakfast and lunch."

"I don't think that's a real word." They both point out.

Jordan smiles. They are adorable kids. And yet, she can already see their personality flaws forming, Evie's narrow focus on her goals, Jacobs impatience and restlessness, that will one day get them into serious trouble probably. It's Jacob in particular she's worried about, because her past recklessness had brought her a lot of trouble, emotionally and socially, and she worried where he would end up in his future.

But now is not the time for that. Food first.

"Come here you guys. I'm going to teach you to crack and cook eggs." And how to get egg shells out of it, inevitably, because she has yet to meet a kid who is good at it.

------

Later, when they are sitting in a train eating French toast , she asks the important question.

"What kind of information do you need?"

"I'm glad you've asked. I take it you have decided to take the job?"

Jordan nods encouragingly.

"My Sister Evie is looking for the shroud of Eden. I need you to help her track its past, and narrow down its location. I also need information on Templars, and a gang called the Blighters. If you can't get it to us directly, you can give it to one of our contacts to pass on, I'll get a list to you later."

"That is a lot of information needed."

"Don't worry. " He tells her. "I can pay. And I know better then to try to silence you. Besides, I hear you're good at discretion."

She nods, then she gets up and leaves.

For her the mission had already started.

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Jordan knew logically, that kids hated chores. She had never liked doing them, back when she was a kid. But the amount of reason they were giving to try and get out of them was ridiculous.

Frankly, they were a scarily good team. Evie backed up with facts, to Jacobs points of "why there are much better things to spend our time on then chores."

It was a very convincing argument.

"Listen up Kiddos! I'm aware chores suck, they are just something you do in life. If you can get them done in a few hours, I'll take you swimming, and teach you diving or something."

That works, and Jacob runs off. Before she goes back to sleep, Jordan grabs Evie.

Make sure he doesn't sneak off please. I need rest, if I'm going to be teaching you later, Im still recovering. "

She hasn't forgotten Evies preference for precision. Evie likes to be fully informed, before she strikes.

This reason works, and she can be fairly certain Jacob will get work done.

She should check the chores over anyways, after a nap.

------

Evie is more than a bit surprised to find Jordan slipping a report ,on past locations of the shroud of Eden, into her pocket one day. Particularly because it's not the Jordan she was used to. It's a teenager.

Intellectually, she knew Jordan was a time traveller, but this was disconcerting.

She tracks Jacob down that night.

"Did you know Jordan is here? " she asks when she is sure they are alone.

"I hired her. Didn't I mention that?" He asks.

Evie frowns. Jacob raises his hands as he attempts to explain himself in time to put off Evie's anger.

Carnelian snippets

Meeting other people, has always been a bizarre experience for me. You see, often it is a case of them knowing me in the past, that will become my future. They know me, and introduce themselves to me, then often begin showing me something I will need to know probably. It's done in a rather disjointed teaching style, because the me they had known was far beyond the basics. That happened a lot more frequently when I was younger.

On the flip side, is me meeting their younger selves, where I am a very strange person who appears out of nowhere, and know them very well. I'm used to talking frankly with them, and viewing them as teachers, so to suddenly be put in a reverse is strange.

First encounters are an awkward business on both sides.

And then there's when I meet someone who I have genuinely never met yet in any time stream.

It's strange, because I am rather unsure how far to trust them. Are they involved in any factions I should worry about? Can they keep secrets? I'm used to knowing that kind of thing about people I meet, because, they are already friends with me, and in my future, I trust them because of that.

It's not a perfect system, but good in the long run. It also means I have problems making friends the normal way.

Which in its self, can be rather strange. But, until I hit 13, it was the only way I met people.

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Carnelian snippet

"Imagine walking down a street foreign to you with no local guide. Remember the sensation of being a directionally challenged child, unless you were some kind of child prodigy at orienteering. In that case, just imagine it. Now remember being lost. When you're lost you wander aimlessly around the area you think you're supposed to go to, thinking "I'm pretty sure I've passed that building before." You don't ask for directions for awhile, because you're afraid the locals will look at you as if you're stupid for not knowing this, or some other silly fear. Now take that experience and multiply it by twenty, because you don't know the language ( and can therefore neither ask for help, or read the signs,) and you will have a pretty good idea of what I was going through.

Of course, to make matters worse, I ended up in Japan. Not any old time In Japan, which is dangerous enough. No, I ended up in feudal Japan, age of isolation.

____

Night Watch has Vimes threatening a recalcitrant prisoner with the "Ginger Beer Trick", approximated by a finger popped from the mouth, a hissing noise and a blood curdling scream. (This one's not really a mystery. You shake a glass bottle of soda or mineral water and spray it straight up the victim's nostrils, leveraging the pressure with the thumb. It hurts like hell and leaves no marks on the victim's body. It is commonly done by drug dealers and corrupt cops in Latin America. For an on-screen example, you can watch it happen on an episode of Dexter.) And it doesn't have to be a nostril, either—any mucus membrane will do, but the nostrils are simply convenient.

Ginger beer is, however, particularly effective for it, as incautiously drinking the stuff hurts.

Read more: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/NoodleIncident/Literature#ixzz3mcodmdJ1

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Explaining modern culture without historical context.

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1------------

#red jordan ryan #writing #original character #assassins creed #old ideas #iron man #marvel

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ackerfics · 3 years

Note

hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them

she — hange zoe

— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else

— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.

— word count: 2.5k

— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.

She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.

“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”

Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.

The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].

“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”

“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”

Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”

“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”

“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”

“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”

Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”

“Oh? What are those things?”

The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.

[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”

“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”

“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.

“Anything for my sweetheart.”

“Again, I’m right here, you know.”

Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.

But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.

The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.

A friend.

Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.

Fall is where everything started.

The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.

Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”

A pause made the breeze’s call known.

“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”

That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.

“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.

She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”

Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”

She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”

Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”

“Yeah, it’s her.”

Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.

It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.

But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.

“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].

“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”

“And what of my feelings, Levi?”

That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.

Then, the dam broke.

“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.

“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?

“Why didn’t she choose me?”

Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.

“Hange,” Erwin murmured.

“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”

A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.

“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”

“Stop it! You’re prettier!”

“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”

“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”

“Me, too, angel.”

Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”

The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.

Winter is here.

general taglist:

@angelofthorr

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jess-the-vampire · 3 years

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Sooooo whatya think of the new episodeee?

Oh it’s definitely my favorite episode of the series so far, i was having such a good time at every turn. I’m glad i went out of my way to avoid spoilers, cause i was glad to actually be surprised by some elements on first watch.

I think this had by far the best opening for an episode so far, we finally get back to the villians, we meet the coven heads, we get insight on belos’s plans-

and then belos gets constipated, which starts getting into the more character driven lore, which is the best part. You instantly can tell GG and Kiki have some bit of tension between them to be Belo’s favorite, though granted i wonder if hunter is the only one to know belos is cursed and actually just always insists to help belos with his fits to prevent others from seeing them.

Including kiki.

It’s honestly unclear how aware anyone is that belos is cursed, like him eating pailsmans is apparently not something he hides, but like....i feel him being cursed is something that people would know universally if it got out...so i’m left wondering if anyone knows besides hunter.

Regardless, belos turns into a goop monster with an angry side, and i guess his mask doesn’t transform with him compared to the rest of his body so he breaks it again because i guess he goes though masks like crazy.

Hunter turns away in this scene from his outburst and even though he’s masked here i can already tell he’s most likely pained in these scenes. Like he’s probably seen this happen so many times, and i can’t imagine it gets any easier for him, it’s probably awful to watch belos suffer like this for him (Regardless of the abuse)

And to be honest, it seems pretty painful for him, i think this ep seems to at least confirm whatever this thing is that takes over belos’s body.....belos never actually wanted it in the first place.

Yeah so after Hunter tells belos there’s not enough trees to medicate him anymore, we’re hit with the “UNCLE”. Which, when i first watched it i needed a second to even process the fact they confirmed their relation.

and i was like “CLOSE ENOUGH”, not his kid but uncle still works just fine for me, i’m just happy my assumption they were related actually came to ahead.

And i rewatched this episode a few times, and on second watch i realized more what happened in this scene. Hunter was talking about his interest in wild magic, and making more pailsman to help belos, and some method that could heal him and as soon as belos looked at him he instantly shut down.

He was clearly rambling about wild magic cures for belos because of his interest in it, and then suddenly remembered his uncle hates wild magic and felt super awkward.

It seems highly likely his interest in wild magic came from trying to cure belos and spending a lot of time reading up on the stuff.

And then we get hit with the whole “Our family is dead because of wild magic” line, which.....i’m curious to know what happened there. But it does at least explain why belos feels how he does, if wild magic both killed his family beside hunter AND cursed him in the first place. We’re just gonna need more info on what exactly happened.

Also while Belos is def abusive and does not treat hunter how he should, this scene actually does read off to me like belos does care about hunter to some degree. If belos is cursed and his curse works in similar ways to how Eda’s curse works, then it’s worth reminding ppl that eda mentions early this season how stress can amplify the curse even more.

And sure enough, belos goes goopy on hunter’s shoulder all of a sudden when he grasps him. Which could be considered a sign of stress and that the idea of hunter dying or being in danger actually does stress him.

You could very much also assume this is just due to his curse not being fully handled and just getting worse, or that belos only cares about hunter for selfish reasons....but i’m not taking anything off the table here.

Belos can still be a shitty uncle, and still care about hunter, these aren’t mutually exclusive traits. But we need more episodes for now on this.

But anyways he asks hunter if he can rely on him, kiki is pissed......and we move on.

So i’m glad luz’s impulsiveness is addressed a ton in this episode, they actually bring up a lot of good points. That luz has no plan, that the time she’s spending here might render moot if she goes back to earth, ect ect.

Hunter even calls her out a lot later for not thinking things through, it’s a whole deal in this episode. I’m glad it was brought up cause it’s actually worth asking a lot of these things.

the set up here works, they actually made a good reason for why a pailsman didn’t bond with her. Speaking of which the adoption thing is cute and i love it, it’s a great idea. The designs are all very cute and fun.

Bump face reveal was a lot for me to process, but i find the idea of his pailsman being a pet that can help with his disabilities a good idea.

Also like, i did find it odd that they got staffs so early because we’ve never seen kids their ages with them before, but i guess it’s a new tradition? Does everyone at hexside now have one?

Honesty not sure why batqueen left the nest there overnight, i meant i guess she assumed they were safe with that shield but in context i dunno why she didn’t take them home after the school day was over.

but whatever, luz stays there overnight hoping a pailsman will bond with her and GG just kidnapps them cause of pure luck on his part a bunch of pailsman were in a vulnerable spot tonight.

So GG continues to be charming, by whistling the theme song and then being blasted off his ship hilariously, before cockily teleporting himself right back on it seconds later. Like he and luz have great banter, he’s so extra like this it’s so funny, and god he’s so FAST with that staff it’s scary but so awesome.

Yeah so then hand dragon crashes them and i was so excited cause it meant face reveal. Poor dude looked so in pain and then we find out kiki tried to effing murder him because of course she did. But like, i think killing your boss’s nephew is the WORST way to get a promotion tbh.

(Also i got confused for a bit cause his mask has always been drawn as a mask, but now it’s a helmet in this scene for whatever reason but-)

Anyways, face reveal, Like honestly ppl weren’t too far off with their guesses, really the only thing people didn’t get was the tooth gap (That was fair tho, we couldn’t have guessed that). But it did make him even cuter.

like the banter is funny, he licks her hand, she slaps him, he looks SO pissed at her for this mess.

and i guess that outfit is his under armor apparently.

He’s lucky she didn’t run away immediately and followed him, but maybe he assumed she would since she had no where else to go.

Also his expressions in this ep are glorious, these had to be fun to draw.

Also we find out that the coven team members have never seen his face i guess? They just assume he’s a silly kid and are awful to him, so i guess he’s not only the youngest member of the coven but he never really shows his face much.

(”Call your parents”, ha ha.....whose gonna tell them who his uncle is?)

He is however, REALLY good at parkour and he’s fast even without his staff, so he’s well trained alright.

And then they reveal he’s not magical and i was SO happy cause i was so sure something was up when he wasn’t doing magic like the other witches despite his pointy ears. So they outright confirmed what i thought.

Hunter is pretty smart tho, like he can tell luz wouldn’t hurt him and wouldn’t flee so he knows he has the high ground here. Like he might be being a bit of a dick, but to be fair luz has been nothing but a dick to him throughout the whole episode (Everyone in this episode has been a dick to him tbh)

They team up and i get excited cause i love this kinda stuff and it gets more wholesome because hunter is super interested in her magic, he thinks it’s cool and you can tell how much he actually loves wild magic but then again...shuts himself down because of belos making him fear the stuff.

An then because luz asks, he tells her his backstory.

honestly with how this world treats people who aren’t magically powerful, living and growing up in a world that would find you useless sounds....awful. Hunter must be an anomaly around here, human blood or not.

Luz coming here to learn is different then growing up in a world and being the only one with no abilities and no future without them. Belos provides him with magic and a future, it’s no wonder he stays with him despite everything.

the whole “Found me” thing is weird, cause belos implies they’re blood related and hunter makes it sound like belos semi-adopted him. Which....if he did i dunno why “Uncle” and not “Adopted dad”, but ok....guess that’s for later.

Apparently hunter is important for something tho with the “Titan has big plans for me” thing, not sure what, but-

But yeah as soon as Hunter talked about wanting to make his own future and Rascal tried to land on him i knew EXACTLY where this was going, it was so cuteeeeee. The lil birb wanted to be with hunter, that’s so wholesome.

And he’s so terrified because of belos and what wild magic did to him, the poor bab.

But yeah, luz then trusts him with his staff back, because again....impulsive. But hunter does actually ask if she’s sure, so he might as well be asking if she trusts him.

The plan goes ahead, and hunter nearly betrays her.

though granted, hunter never promised her he’d stop and let her take them away, the truce was supposed to last till kiki was stopped and they were gonna fight out who got the pailsman. But it does bother luz cause she was hopeful he was better then this.

But just like he did before, she calls him out and he doesn’t betray her, because he’s ALSO too nice to do it, just like he said she was. He says his name (Which also took a moment to process), and then beats the crap out of kiki while letting luz get away and protecting her like a badass.

He might not have magic, but he’s good at fighting

like he can easily teleport to luz and take the pailsman, but he doesn’t, he lets them get away and luz knows this. Even though she also knows hunter has to go back to the emperor too and they have to separate.

It’s only slightly bitter terms, because in the end he came through for her and she knows it.

honestly, the worst part is i can’t even be mad at hunter for it, i’m sure he was terrified to fail belos. Both because he loves him and doesn’t want him to suffer....but also because of well...being punished. Really says something when his near betrayal doesn’t even make me mad at him, and i can understand why he nearly did it.

He let her go, knowing he’d be in SERIOUS trouble and that it would hurt someone he actually loves, so....ouch.

so yeah at this point i knew rascal wanted him so it was only of matter of what happened next.

Which was, luz getting the wood, which i like more anyway. Eda and King doing this offscreen and coming home like this is actually very funny, and honestly i appreciate the message of it being ok to wait.....means a lot to me.

yeah so belos is like...being an ass, like the kid tried his hardest, you don’t need to hit him with the “Is this the thanks i get?”. He’s a kid and he’s trying to cure you you dick, give him a break he doesn’t remotely have to help you like this.

Also apparently belos has not even told hunter HOW this happened, like...dude. Hunter is trying to be entirely reasonable here and belos spikes at him, which does imply some physical abuse though the only reason hunter doesn’t get a new scar is because he moves.

but how he reacts implies this has happened before, he is bracing for impact and he flinches. It’s pretty sad tbh, especially since hunter loves him and belos’s respect means something to him.

Belos is such an idiot, like c’mon dude, hunter is trying to help you and you don’t listen to him you dick. Kid shouldn’t have to say sorry for anything he did nothing wrong, he was just trying to help.

Anyways, he gloats at kiki (So at the very least she knows what he looks like under the mask), which he deserves a chance to do anyway. So i guess he didn’t rat her out for trying to kill him, personally my guess why is blackmail.....he was gonna hold it over her head to keep her from doing it again and threaten to tell belos.

But kiki quickly tells he LET the pailsman get away since he was the one to fight her (Curse his cute loose hair strand). So i guess now they have dirt on each other, so that’s fun.

His room is adorable, though the med kit by the bed is concerning.

Rascal comes for him and it;s so cute....though you can tell hunter nearly hurts him on instinct because of force of habit, but it’s so cute how he cares and how the birb loves him and is his new staff.

it was well hinted to as well, it’s so subtle, but the bird being cheery, curious, and his constant habit of escaping boundaries was perfect for hunter. He represents what hunter wants to be and why they got matched is done so well, all without explaining anything.

Hunter indirectly stated his deepest wish, to make his own choices, and rascal resonated with that.

can’t wait to see where this goes.

great ending shot, love me some conflicted shots looking out of windows like trapped birds.

also this title was a pun the whole time i can’t-

#the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #golden guard #toh golden guard #the owl house golden guard #the golden guard #the owl house luz #emperor belos #kikimora

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dukeofonions · 3 years

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The Problem With Asides

Before I get into anything I want to clarify that this is not going to be a criticism of the two Asides episodes we’ve gotten so far. This is a critique of the concept of Sanders Asides as a separate series from the original Sanders Sides. A second note I want to make is that this is, just as all my other posts are, a personal opinion. This is not meant to be an attack on anyone, just a general criticism from a confused writer and viewer of the show.

And final disclaimer: A lot of what I’m going to say is based on information that I no longer have available. It’ll mostly be me recalling things I heard and if I at any point get something wrong please feel free to let me know.

That being said, let’s get into this, shall we?

(Fair warning this post is very long hence why I’ve divided it into parts so feel free to read then come back as you wish)

Part One: The Concept of Asides

Some time ago last year, I believe shortly after Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts came out, was when the idea for Sanders Asides was first announced. The basic concept of it being shorter, more lighthearted videos focusing on the Sides outside of the main storyline. This format would allow them to give us more Sides content in between the long waits for the main series since those episodes were beginning to take more time to produce.

Of course, everyone was eager for more Sides, so the majority of people were excited. Not only that but due to the main series tackling heavier themes, the episodes were becoming more angsty with less time for the characters to just relax and goof off with each other. The idea of having episodes reminiscent of the low stakes, sillier, happier content of season one was a welcome break from the more complex episodes and would be a nice return to form for the series.

We were also informed that these episodes would be much simpler than their main series counterparts and wouldn’t disrupt the work being done on Sanders Sides, which meant we didn’t have to worry about long gaps between the main story episodes, right?

(Another disclaimer: I am perfectly aware of the main reason why we were not given as much content last year and am not blaming Thomas or the team for doing what was necessary to keep themselves safe and hope they continue to do so as this continues into the new year)

Jump to November 22, 2019, where we got our first official episode of Sanders Asides, roughly five months after DWIT came out. Which, for this fandom, was record time to get more content and I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly they were able to get this out. Though at the same time, I wondered why it took five months to make what was meant to be a short, simple episode.

So imagine my surprise when I went to watch the episode and saw it was nearly 20 minutes long. Which, okay, isn’t that bad when you compare it to the lengths of the more recent Sanders Sides episodes. But at the time, I was under the impression that the Asides would be, well, much shorter. The longest I expected would be maybe 15 minutes, but you know what? It’s the first episode and it has been a while since we’ve had Sides content, so maybe they wanted to give us a little extra due to the long wait.

I started the episode and at first, I was overjoyed when I saw the first shot of all the Sides sitting in the living room in their onesies about to have a movie night. This was exactly what I’d been hoping to see from this series! It’s pretty much a staple thing in the fandom for the Sides to have movie nights together, and now it was happening in canon!

At the moment, I had high hopes for this series and was filled with joy.

Then that hope and joy were immediately crushed when I realized this was yet just another Virgil-centric angst episode. In fact, this entire episode was, well, exactly like a regular Sanders Sides episode. Sure, there were some jokes here and there, but the tone of the episode was no lighter than the last Sanders Sides episode. If anything DWIT felt lighter in comparison to this one.

Which leads me to ask, what the heck happened?

Part Two: Literally the Same Show

At this point in time, we’ve only had two episodes of Asides. Usually, I try to hold off my judgment of a series until I’ve had at least one other episode to see if my original criticisms still stand.

To be fair, I did think Flirting With Social Anxiety was a step in the right direction. More comedy, a lighter tone, yes. Perfect. But again, just like with Are There Healthy Distractions? This episode quickly dove right back into the angst pool, and just like ATHD it was a pretty long episode, clocking in at almost 25 minutes.

Not only that but again, both FWSA and ATHD don’t feel any different from the episodes we’ve been getting in Sanders Sides.

1. They’re just as angsty.

2. Roughly the same length as Sanders Sides episodes.

3. Take about just as long to produce.

4. Contain a lesson to be learned.

Which, okay, you can have lessons in lighter shows too, but we’re already getting that in Sanders Sides and Sanders Asides was described as, well, being less plot heavy. Yet so far both episodes are still tied in with the main plot.

ATHD deals with the aftermath of DWIT, not directly but it’s pretty obvious that the whole thing with Virgil’s reveal at the end of that episode is being addressed in the background. Which, kind of takes away the impact of that ending, but I’ll get to that later.

Then FWSA takes place after Putting Others First and again, is dealing with things from that episode in the background. Again though, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It makes sense to see the characters dealing with things from past events.

So why is it a problem here? Because, again, Sanders Asides is meant to be a separate series, and all the subtext brought on from the episodes in Sanders Sides makes the plots in these two episodes confusing.

For example, I was perplexed during my first watch of FWSA because I couldn’t understand why the focus of the conflict was lying. I didn’t understand why Virgil and Roman came to the conclusion that Thomas’ reason for being unable to approach Nico was because he was lying to himself, when both the title of the episode and what we were shown points more to, well, social anxiety being the problem.

(Quick note: One could argue that this was done purposefully to have Virgil putting the blame on Janus since he doesn’t like him and wouldn’t want to admit that he was the one responsible, but this series has had a bad habit of favoring Virgil in the past so until we get more answers I’m gonna leave this on the backburner)

It didn’t help that I had no idea when this episode was meant to take place in the timeline, and I originally thought it could take place a bit after season two since Roman and Virgil seemed to be doing better, but more on them later.

All of this bugged me until I found out that FWSA takes place after POF, and after watching the live stream that followed and getting some more context, the lying thing made a bit more sense, but the fact that I was as confused as I was just caused more frustration to build up. And I wasn’t the only one who got thrown off by the “Lying is wrong” message of FWSA so I had to ask again, why was this episode a Sanders Asides when apparently, you need information from the last Sanders Sides episode in order to understand it?

So you’re telling me, that the second episode in what is supposed to be a separate series that isn’t meant to be a part of the main plot, is now integral to the plot of the main story you’re telling in what is, as you have said, a separate show? How does that make any sense?

Okay, one could argue that Thomas getting a love interest doesn’t really fit with the current storyline that’s going on in Sanders Sides, and that is a fair point. The problem with that is, FWSA takes place right after Putting Others First.

You all remember what happened at the end of that episode, right?

Part Three: Intrusive Plots

At this point we’ve all become rather accustomed to the long waits in between videos, it’s nothing new to us, and for the most part they haven’t done anything to harm the current plot of Sanders Sides. Sure, the length of time between videos can cause people to lose interest, but for the most part the tone of the last three episodes of Sanders Sides hasn’t differed much and the story flow is still going along smoothly.

Let’s start with Selfishness vs Selflessness, which is the episode that sets up the big climax for season two. It’s still got its jokes and funny moments, but the overall tone is far more serious than previous episodes have been. This carries on into DWIT where Thomas has been so stressed out lately that he’s begun to have trouble with his intrusive thoughts.

Virgil even gives a pretty good summary of Thomas’ current mental state: “He recently realized he’s a bigger liar than he thought he was, he doesn’t understand himself, he’s committed to skipping a big callback, and he’s sleep-deprived. So yeah, he feels like a piece of dirt who has no control over his life.”

And all that was a direct result of the ending of SVS, despite DWIT not being the direct follow up to that episode the two are still intertwined. Remember that for later.

DWIT ends with the long awaited reveal of Virgil having been a “Dark Side.” Even though the majority of the fandom had figured it out by as early as Can Lying Be Good? That didn’t take away from the emotional gut punch that this scene was and it’s one of my favorite moments from the series. I may have to make a whole post breaking that scene down but what matters is that this scene was a turning point for Virgil’s character.

We’ve seen him trying to hide the truth from Thomas ever since Janus and Remus started popping up, and there were close calls with both of them nearly revealing it themselves and continuously dropping hints to Thomas. Only for Virgil to admit it to Thomas himself, and leave before Thomas can even say a word.

We don’t know for sure how Thomas is feeling in this moment, but it’s clear he’s been shaken by this. He doesn’t really have a lot of time to process it before he remembers to acknowledge the audience and close out the video.

This comes up again once we finally get to the monster of an episode that is POF, the follow up to SVS that everyone had been waiting over a year for. Right away we see that Patton and Roman will be at the forefront of this discussion with Logan popping up every now and then, but who doesn’t show up in this episode despite having played a role in SVS?

Virgil.

He’s nowhere to be seen and his absence is definitely felt. Why wouldn’t he be part of this discussion? He was there in SVS and had a lot to say on the matter, he was even part of the decision to choose the wedding over the callback! So why wasn’t he there?

Well, just look at the ending of DWIT and there’s your answer. Of course he isn’t about to show his face after that. Not when Thomas is already under so much stress already and he isn’t sure how Thomas will react to seeing him-

*insert random voice whispering off to the side*

Wait, Virgil has seen Thomas since DWIT? When?

*whispers continue*

Oh, right, they interacted in Sanders Asides. How did that go again?

*whispers explain*

Huh? Thomas said he’s cool with Virgil despite revealing that he’s been hiding something from him this whole time? That “something” being the fact that Virgil was once considered part of the others that were currently making Thomas’ life miserable?

*whispers confirm*

Really? They’re both okay with each other now? Well, good for them.

So wait, then why didn’t Virgil show up in POF? He was there during the first discussion and honestly he’d have more of a reason to show up than Logan who wasn’t really present at all in SVS.

*whispers explain*

He just wasn’t need there? Hm, alright. Guess that makes sense…

Well okay, Virgil and Thomas are on good terms once POF rolls around, Virgil isn’t present during the conversation because he isn’t needed and I suppose his presence would make things worse. Especially once Janus revealed himself, he wouldn’t allow him to get a word in. Even though Janus could probably silence him but I digress.

Fast forward towards the ending of POF, remember when I said to remember how SVS and DWIT were connected? Well DWIT is just as important to POF, acting as a bit of bridge between to the two episodes.

Janus brings up Remus (both directly and indirectly) twice in this episode.

First here:

Notice how Roman’s breakdown is already being foreshadowed here, the camera focusing on him while “Logan” says this isn’t an accident.

The second time Remus is brought up is at the very end after Janus has revealed his name:

“Oh, Roman thank God you don’t have a mustache. Otherwise between you and Remus, I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.”

(No I am not posting screenshots of this scene I already got emotional over the last one)

As we saw at the end of DWIT, Roman does not have a good relationship with is brother. So much so that when Thomas refers to Remus as such, Roman creates a different analogy that compares Remus to a mirror, reflecting everything Roman doesn’t want to be.

Roman desperately wants to distance himself from Remus, not wanting anything to do with him. We’ve only gotten a glimpse of just how far this loathing goes, and part of that comes from Roman finally breaking down after being told by Janus that if it wasn’t for a mustache there’d be no difference between him and Remus.

This shook Roman more than anything else in the show has so far, moreso than him being the one to decide that Thomas should give up the callback. He was the one that pushed Thomas to make that decision, believing it was the noble thing to do, only for it to only make Thomas feel worse and then be told by Janus that his “noble sacrifice” was all for nothing.

Janus, the one who had been supporting Roman throughout SVS, buttering him up and encouraging him to go after his dream, told him that his sacrifice was worthless. Then to top it all off Janus admits what he did and brushes it off as a joke. He doesn’t apologize to Roman, leaving him in the dust, then when Roman responds by laughing at his name he’s shot down even lower.

And when he looks to Thomas and Patton for help, for answers, anything.

They stay silent.

Patton tries to reassure him, telling Roman that they love him, but he doesn’t believe it. He sinks out, and that’s the last we see of him.

Selfishness vs Selflessness, Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, and Putting Others First are three of the biggest (and dare I say most important) episodes in the series. The three almost act like a trilogy, with POF leading to something bigger, the season finale. Which will be culmination of all three of these episodes.

We’ll be seeing Virgil’s reaction to Janus having been accepted by Patton and facing his own past as a “Dark Side.” Then we’ll find out what has become of Roman after he disappeared at the end of POF, and how it now affects his relationship with Thomas.

*whispers return and begin to whisper*

I’m sorry what?

*whispers repeat*

Virgil already knows about Janus getting somewhat accepted? Well okay I guess he would, wish we could have seen his reaction to that but oh well, no big deal. At least we got the Roman and Thomas confrontation to look forward to.

*whispers whisper*

Roman has already interacted with Thomas since POF? When?!

*whisper*

In FWSA? Oh yeah, how did that go again? It was super awkward right? Since Roman doesn’t really trust that Thomas loves or values him?

*whisperly whisper*

They get along just fine as if nothing happened?

*whispersty*

It looks like he might still be upset with him since he’s being a bit passive aggressive?

*whisper*

Can’t really tell because the three are too busy trying to talk to a cute guy at the mall?

Okay, I guess that all makes sense…

Looks like Roman and Virgil still aren’t on the best terms with Thomas but are able to push that aside to help him talk to this handsome stranger, and hey, it worked! Thomas now has a boyfriend! Just look at Roman and Virgil at the end, they’re both so happy with Thomas!

Looks like now they can focus on this new chapter in their life and leave the events of POF behind them. I mean, now that Roman and Virgil seem pretty cool with Thomas it would just feel weird to suddenly have them angry with him again, wouldn’t it?

Part Four: The Problem

Sanders Asides was originally described as being a series separate from the main storyline of Sanders Sides. Promising us shorter, less complicated episodes to give us a little something in between the longer, heavier episodes in Sanders Sides. This was a great idea that ended up falling apart the moment it began.

When I was going through SVS, DWIT, and POF I mentioned that the three of them felt like a trilogy. All three of them link together to tell one bigger story, and on their own they get the job done. They set up the season finale perfectly to the point where you have an idea of what to expect and what to look forward to.

The main things being the aftermath of Virgil’s reveal and Roman’s breakdown, which would most likely cultivate in them teaming up against Janus. This would also involve Virgil coming to terms with his past and Roman having to face Remus.

Of course, none of this has been officially confirmed, but given everything we’ve seen up to this point it just makes sense.

The story for season two is nearly complete, all we’re missing is the conclusion.

Then Sanders Asides showed up and threw everything off course. What was supposed to be its own thing crept into a story that was already (for all we knew) set up and being put into place.

We were told that the Asides wouldn’t do anything to disrupt the flow of Sanders Sides, yet it’s been confirmed that there will be one or two more episodes of Asides before we get the season finale.

Why? Why are these episodes necessary when everything was set to move forward after POF? If these episodes are that important that they absolutely have to be made before the finale then why are they simply not part of the main series?

You could say “Well they’re not directly tied to the main plot, that’s why.” But need I remind you that Asides as a concept was just intriduced after DWIT came out? These episodes were written specifcally for Asides, which unless I’m wrong means that they were just added into the main story with no planning whatsoever.

FWSA honestly feels like it should have been the start of season three, something that should have waited to be introduced after season two wrapped up because it’s just too much.

We already have so much to unpack from SVS, DWIT, and POF now we also have a new love interest on top of that?

Virgil and Thomas’ resolution doesn’t even feel all that special because it wasn’t talked about directly between them. Thomas was indirectly letting Virgil know they were still okay, so what does that leave for us? All that build up about Virgil being a “Dark Side” only for it to be brushed over like it was nothing, and this happened in an Asides episode, not even in the main series.

It also makes Virgil’s absence in POF confusing when they had already set up the perfect reason for him to be absent in DWIT, but according to the first episode of ATHD Virgil and Thomas are okay with each other. Sure, Virgil being there might have made things worse but at that point everyone was making things worse.

We no longer have a confrontation between Thomas and Roman to look forward to because in FWSA we see them interacting as normal. Even the passive agressiveness isn’t anything new to Roman and really, it all just sounds super petty which he had been known to behave like that even when nothing is seriously wrong. Not only that Roman is overjoyed at the end, having finally gotten something he desperately wanted, the happy ending he deserved.

All that’s left for him is to fave his feelings towards Remus, but what would even happen there?

The problem with Asides isn’t the quality of the episodes, FWSA is actually one of my favorite episodes. The problem with Asides is that the team is taking what should have been something small and turning it into a far too elaborate for what its original purpose was: To give us more lighthearted content to enjoy in between the waits for the heavier episodes.

Instead it just feels like they’re adding onto something that really didn’t need adding on to, creating more work for themselves when it just isn’t necessary, and that worries me.

Final Thoughts

Honestly, it’s hard for me to make all these judgments when no one has any idea what the finale is going to be like. And usually, the team is able to excede my expectations and create something amazing.

But with all these new Asides episodes that feel like they’re just being crammed in at the last second, it makes me wonder how the rest of the series will go if they continue down this road.

Season two started September 1st, 2017, it is now January 3rd, 2021. Throughout season two the production of episodes became more elaborate, and there have been complications that arose from trying to make these videos as a result that sent production screeching to a halt. And on top of that, these Sanders Asides have been added to create even more work for Thomas and the team.

I don’t understand why they’d do this to themselves when it’s already become more difficult than ever to make videos in general, not just Sanders Sides.

We were offered something simple that would have satisfied everyone during the difficult times, only to be given something that honestly, wasn’t even needed. I do appreciate Thomas trying to get us more content, but I don’t think he or the team realizes just how content we’d all be with just a five minute video of the characters we love just doing something as simple as hanging out and having fun, especially with how dark things have become all around us.

We don’t always have to be watching these characters struggle, sometimes we just need to see them be genuinely happy.

(Thanks to everyone who took time to read this monster of a post, I did not mean for it to get this long but it’s been dwelling on my mind for a while and I wanted to make sure I got out everything I wanted to say. Again, this is all just a personal opinions and you are not obligated to agree with me. If you have an objecting opinion I would not mind hearing it but please keep any discussions civil.)

#dukeofcritical #sanders sides #ts criticism #sanders sides criticism #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #long post

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give-grian-rights · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER TWO HOUR. CHAPTER TWO HOUR. I AM SO TIRED. IT IS 6AM. TELL ME IF HTERE’S TYPOS AND THAT NORMAL STUFF

Bets Against The Void, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Whitelist au from @petrichormeraki

Crossposted on AO3

Tubbo quietly chuckled, smiling fondly as their friend squawked indignantly. “Tubbo! I’m serious, explain some shit, fuckin’ nerd!” Tommy scoffed, prodding at their side with his elbow. Tubbo hushed him, their smirk still lingering.

“Hermitcraft is a super crazy popular server. If you’ve ever searched for examples of builds on your tablet, chances are, they’re from one of the Hermits. Or if you looked up something about redstone! Anything! You’ll find one of their instructions. They’re geniuses- just, complete geniuses. Grian’s one of them-”

“Grian’s one of them!?” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes shooting open. Tubbo’s grin widened, nodding vigorously. “Yes! He’s the newest Hermit, last I heard.. Most of the guys he’s teammates with every MCC, they’re usually other Hermits!” They’d continue explaining to the best of their ability.

“Should’ve fuckin’ started with the fact that Grian’s here! That fuckin’ dude! He killed Dream three times! Three times, Tubbo!” The blond continued with his excited shouting. Well, that certainly fixed the situation, Tubbo mused.

The brunett nodded along, chuckling. “Yeah! He, and most of the others, really- post all that much right now. The new World Client, with the axolotls and caves ‘n stuff? They’ve started posting and sharing discoveries about that. I know Grian did, at least. But considering they call themselves the ‘Hermits’ it makes sense to be a bit inactive, yeah?” Tubbo shrugged, tapping the chilly cool sandstone beneath them.

Tommy nodded dumbly, glancing around the room for a moment. Tubbo, meanwhile, had pulled their tablet up. The holographic comm system was displayed infront of them, everything on the screen they touched being read aloud to them.

Launching an accessibility app, the tablet began describing aloud the block palette, dimensions, and colors. As the tablet’s robotic voice played in his com system, reading aloud the details of his surrounding, Tubbo nodded along to an incoherent rant from Tommy.

Tubbo wasn’t too sure what Tommy was ranting about- likely MCC, and Grian. Grian got a kill on Tommy, last MCC, if they remember correctly. The brunnett wouldn’t be surprised if that was the target of the blond’s current tangent. Tommy hadn’t even been able to get a word out, when Grian began shouting vigorous apologises between matches.

The descriptions from the tablet were long, and boring. The robotic voice drawing on and on, as it attempted to describe the intricate room. Shutting down the program, Tubbo tuned back into Tommy.

“Fuckin’ am..So fucking tired. Of course we ended up here. It’d be to easy if we’d just be let back into Dream SMP, huh? Think Dream even knew we were out? I bet not. Even if he does, probably didn’t even care, fuckin’ dick. Bet that green asshole’s just sitting over his code and shit, simping over Gogy-” The blond ranted heatedly. The blind teen could hear the shifting and chustling of fabric, before the boy’s voice became muffled.

With his head pressed against his knees, legs drawn to his chest, Tommy sat there practically panting. His chest heaved, the rage draining from him. “Why is all- all of this, always so complicated, Tubbo?” Blue eyes turned to meet the scarred, burnt front of the other.

Tubbo picked at faded and torn tennis shoes, tentatively listening. The rymnatic pattern of the boy’s breathing, and the crashing overhead, offered some vague comfort. “All of what?” They’d tilt their head.

The younger of the two quietly sighed, his mouth pressed in a thin line. His hand clutched the bottom of his torn, tan cargo pants, fidgetting with the frayed ends. “Us. Shit with us, it always gets so fuckin’ complicated. Big Man, you’re president. You’re- you’re the fucking president, now, Tubbo.”

The bunnett’s brows furrowed together, as they inched closer to their friend. “Yeah. But it’s- it’s still us, y’know? If- if life was easy, then we’d be missing out on a lot of things. What if we had just never met-”

“We’d always meet eachother, Tubbo. There’s no fuckin’ getting rid of me, even in your fantasy world.” The blond nudged the teen’s shoulder, a wolfish grin evident in his tone.

That made the other crack a smile, shaking their head. “I hope so, Tommy.” They’d chuckle, shaking their head. The weight of the day came crashing down all again. Before the rushing thoughts could boggle down their mind, Tubbo slumped against Tommy’s side sigh an exhausted sigh.

“This is just, livin’ the fucking life, huh?” Tommy remarked, looking over his friend. The tall boy already shifted himself, his long legs sprawled out on the floor with his back leaned against sandstone walls.

His head leaned against that of his compaignian, half-lidded blue eyes giving one last surveillance of the room. “We’ll figure this shit out tomorrow..” Tommy mumbled, glancing down at the brunette.

Tubbo was already asleep, their expression finally one of peace. Tommy wasn’t given a moment more to appreciate the serenity of the quiet room, before he’d be pulled into slumber as well.

Both of the teens were stirred awake by the whirring noises of an active portal- the Netherportal beside them, with particles flying, gaveway to two players. Tommy kicked himself up to his feet, defensively. Tubbo stumbled along with him, pulling back away from the strangers.

Though two stepped out, only one immediately caught Tommy’s eyes.

“W- Holy shit! You’re Grian!” Tommy squawked indignantly.

Tubbo’s head immediately shot up, excitably breaking into a grin. Any exhaustion the two held was wiped away- neither was sure how long their unrestful sleep had been, but it was far more than other nights.

The target of the excitement, Grian, sheepishly stood there, nodding. “Uh, yeah! You guys are Tommy and Tubbo, yeah? I’ve seen you at most of the MCC’s I’ve been to. You both did really good last time, by the way! I’m really looking forward to the next one!”

This was easily the closest they probably ever were to the dirty blond. He also looked far more at ease, on this server. The iconic figure, ever-present in the community, had his wild mop of a fringe frazzled and framing his face.

Poking under the bangs, Tommy could now see faint, ragged lines from a scar, along with other various healed-over wounds. Another contrary to how either of them had seen Grian, at MCC, was the large circular glasses loosely sat on his face.

Seeing one of his heroes like this (The only one that hadn’t betrayed, killed him, turned against him, despised him-) in such a..Domestic state, was bizarre. Tommy was scrambling for words, starting and giving up on getting his tongue around what to say.

“This is so cool! Hi! I used to watch and- and listen, to a lot of your old build tutorials! A lot of people on our server would always say how we learned building from you!” Tubbo would blurt out, practically bouncing on their heel. Grian turned to the teen, slightly shocked but amused.

“Oh! I- well thank you! I’m glad I could be any help at all- my builds are nothing compared to some of what the other Hermits have going on..Speaking of others- this is Stress!” He’d take the opportunity to escape the small spotlight, glancing towards the brunette woman next to him sheepishly.

The woman- Stress, apparently, quietly chuckled. A fond smile grazed her face, as she looked over towards the two teenagers. “Ello there, Loves! Sorry to interrupt your fan meetup,” She teased, side-eyeing the dirty blond beside her. “We just wanted to come and check in, is all! X told us two to come visit, yeah?”

Tommy quietly hummed skeptically, surveying her. Short brown hair hung barely as low as her shoulder, a neat, white, blue, and pink flower-crown sat upon her head. The colors must’ve been very purposeful, considering they matched with her colorful outfit of the same color.

“Fine, sure..Well, we’re still fuckin’ breathing, and we’re here. So you don’t really need to be here any longer, yeah?” Tommy scoffed, slumping back against the wall. Tubbo was already standing, nudging at his side.

“Thank you, for checking in. I- I’m sure this is a bit of a strange situation. That- Yeah, that’s my bad.” They chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. This caught Stress’ attention, turning towards the tene.

“Oh, no! This isn’t a problem at all. Dear, this happens all the time. Grian just- just appeared, one day, in our previous server. We walk out the portal for the first time- and boom! There that weirdo is!” Stress chuckled, her grin unwavering as she gave a playful nudge to the dirty blond beside her.

Grian scoffed, a smirk edging at his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I’m not the only example of that happening- you didn’t have to pick me out specifically!”

“Sure I do, Love! You’re the first new Hermit to join, after me and Zed! I get to bully you, lovingly!” She cheered. Stress’ energy was absolutely efficacious, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile and cackle at her and Grian’s banter.

“Uh huh,” Grian scoffed, dramatically crossing his arms. “Last I checked, that was Iskall’s job to bully newcomers- oh, Gord, when you all walked out of the portal and they just decked me ? I mean, it didn’t really hurt all that bad, but it’s a matter of the principle!”

Stress seemed like she was almost gonna break down with laughter, clutching her stomach. “I forgot they did that with you, too! Iskall certainly is one that needs work with their introduction, that absolute weirdo!” She chostled, shaking her head fondly.

She then turned towards the two teens, reassuringly smiling. “They won’t give you any hard time, they’re just like that sometimes, especially in the beginning of a new season..They’re usually just incomprehensible in the beginning, I learnt!” She giggled, covering her mouth.

Tubbo awkwardly laughed, nodding. “Yeah- they, they sound like something.” It was..A strange environment, to be sure.

Sure, they knew of the Hermits, their reputation impossible to avoid- but most outsiders didn’t know much about the actual Hermits. They went by that title for a reason.

Tommy was having similar thoughts, he felt as if he was completely imposing on, everything. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care- it frankly was..Warming, almost, to see this. He missed being able to have that, on Dream’s server.

The blond in particular seemed to have tuned out, because by the time he snapped out of those thoughts, Grian was speaking again.

“We’re glad to see you’re both alright, but, I don’t think we’ve been exactly great hosts. You both have gotta be hungry- I know the last thing you two seem to want is help, but..We’d be happy to help you however we can. We can go get you fresh, real food. Or- you both come with us, and we take you to our central area, the Cowmercial district.”

Tommy stared blankly at Grian for a moment, brows knitted together in bewilderment. “The… Cow..merical district?” He’d repeat, squinting.

Grian snickered, nodding. “Yeah! The name just stuck. It’s our shopping district. We have a bakery- it’s never, ever too early for cake. There’s Doc’s shop, but that’s all villager-bought, if it’s the rare occasion that it’s stocked at all- so the Bakery may be the only option, for today.” He glanced back at Stress, who nodded in agreement.

“Only if you’d want to,” Stress would interject. “Either of us could come bring you food here- but, we figured you might want to just..Get out. You’re allowed to leave here whenever you want- but, navigating our server by yourself, for the first time? Not the easiest.”

The two teens glanced towards eachother. Tubbo looked like they were practically buzzing in place, at the idea of exploring the Hermits’ world. Tommy watched them for a moment, before quietly scoffing.

“..Yeah, okay, sure- how the hell do we even get out of here though, for starters?” Tommy crossed his arms, inching closer towards Tubbo. He, for one, was really not a fan of having to fly out.

Stress cheered excitably, pulling open her inventory. The woman promptly dropped a stack each to the two teens. “I came prepared, just in-case!” She grinned. With a swipe of her arm, the digital screen dissipated.

“If you know how to use elytras, X already said he’s more than happy to lend out two from the back-up system. I have some to spare, as well. But- you two never seemed the most comfortable in the air, during flight-based games.” Grian would add awkwardly, adjusting his own wings behind him.

Tommy didn’t pay much attention to the words- instead, he promptly threw open his inventory, gawking at the full stack of pearls. “What! I don’t think i’ve ever had this many pearls! Holy shit!” He pulled out the stack of sixteen.

One pearl manifested in his hand, while a holographic icon hovered beside him. The pixel-image of an enderpearl, with a large 15x in the corner in white font was projected for only his vision. The blond couldn’t remember a time he had so many enderpearls.

“Thank you! Wow- yeah, pearls aren’t really common in our server! This- this is really nice!” They felt giddy, as they pulled their’s out as well, the action muscle-memory.

“Well, I’m glad you two can put them to good-use, then!” She chuckled. The idle question of how can a server lack pearls skimming through her head for a moment.

Within seconds of her saying that, Tommy had already blindly tossed one of his pearls- promptly falling down from the ceiling, and landing on the floor with a short shriek. Tubbo straightened up from the sidelines, tilting their head.

“Tommy! What did you do?” Tubbo called out accusatorily, as they quickly popped their surrounding descriptor back on.

“Nothing!” Tommy quickly yelled back, lunging to their feet with a stumble as they dusted themselves off.

At the sidelines, Stress and Grian cackled, watching in lighthearted amusement. Tommy could feel his face flushed red with brief embarrassment, quickly attempting to play it off.

“Truer answer; I was being awesome. That was what, Tubbo. Are we eating or what? I want to throw pearls and go places. And eat, that too.” He quickly turned towards the two Hermits expectantly, narrowing his eyes at them.

Grian grinned, nodding. “Yes, yes we are! I have boats. Go ahead and pop up with your pearls, and we’ll fly out to you.” He explained briefly, pulling the boats from his inventory. The thin, digitized object manifesting in his hand.

Tommy turned expectantly to Tubbo. “You got this, Toob?” He tilted his head, watching his friend. Tubbo had immediately nodded vigoriously, running over towards the center of the room, the ceiling above open to the water.

“Yeah! I’ve got this, Big Man! No sweat!” They gave a toothy grin, shifting the enderpearl in their hand. Arching their arm back, the teen cautiously stepped back.

Their communicator had continued reading off the details of the room into their thin earpiece, primarily the dimensions. All they had to do was hit the wall leading up to the surface to get out. They could do that, surely.

With a huff of effort, they chucked the pearl. They heard it break through the under-surface of the water, and then they were submerged. Breaching the surface, they gasped for a moment. The ocean rippled, clothes heavy and soaked. They were certainly glad they had been in their casual clothes, rather than their presidential outfit.

Within a moment, Tommy was up beside them, quietly gasping as well. The blond pushed his hair back, lightly nudging Tubbo away from the gaping hole in the water beneath them- and then Grian and Stress flew out.

The sound from the rockets were deafened from beneath the ocean, thankfully. Only a thin trail of smoke followed them, the sight certainly unfamiliar to the fireworks the two teens had been accustomed to.

Both Hermits had dived straight into the shallow water with a splash, before the dirty-blond dropped down two boats.

“I want to drive! Tommy, i’m driving us!” Tubbo cried out, at the sound of the wood hitting the water. Beside them, Tommy scoffed.

“Tubbo! I’m not gettin’ motion sickness! We just woke up, no way. Your idea of ‘driving’ is no one elses, my friend.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he pulled himself into the boat. Beside him, Tubbo whined.

“C’mon, man! Nothing like a bit of motion-sickness to get the day started!” They playfully remarked. Despite that, they had already accepted their defeat, pulling up into the boat.

Stress and Grian watched the teens carefully, with Stress laughing lightheartedly at the banter between them as she pulled herself into the boat, behind Grian.

Grian, on the otherhand, was mostly quiet. A thin wisp of a smile was present, conveying one of bemusement. Tommy didn’t get a good look, but, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look from Grian. He didn’t like it.

“Alright,” The older Brit at hand started. “We’re real close. No one should be at Looky Looky At My Cookie- and it should be early enough that there aren’t any real occupants at the Cowmerical District.” He explained, turning the boat as he got a small start ahead of the teens.

“Sure, then! That sounds g- wait, what’s that name?”

“C’mon, then!” Grian wouldn't answer Tubbo’s valid question, before boating off. Tommy quickly following behind, shouting indignantly after them.

It certainly was odd. It felt..Comforting, here. Certainly not relaxing. The opposite of cf relaxing- Tubbo had nothing but the craving to do something. But it was..Welcoming. It was strange. They hadn’t felt so- so unbothered, since..Ever, really. They liked it.

Tubbo wondered if it could stay this way.

Tommy wondered what the hell they were about to get themselves into.

#bets against the void fic #whitelist au #mika-posts #mcyt fic #mcyt au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic

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regrettablewritings · 3 years

Text

Preference: Surviving the Holidays

Characters: Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Tadashi Hamada, Bruce Wayne

Dewey Finn: Thanksgiving

Dewey’s relationship with Thanksgiving was wack, for lack of a better word. Really that could be said for his relationship with most holidays, but what made Thanksgiving stand out ever so slightly was just how obsessively tied to gatherings with loved ones it was when compared to other holidays: You could party for Christmas; you could party for New Years; you couldn’t really party for Thanksgiving. And given that most of his time growing up was just himself and his ma . . .Yeah, the guy wasn’t too crazy about what he considered to be a sham of a holiday. (Plus, he didn’t vibe with the parade.)

And none of that lessened as he got older, with his relationship with his mother becoming more and more strained. After a while, the most he really got from the holiday was tagging along accompanying Ned to his own family’s place. But once Patty came along, that window of opportunity closed.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t long for it. Quite the contrary, it had become sour grapes for Dewey: He could gripe and sneer about Thanksgiving being a “boring-ass” wannabe day all he wanted to; the truth simply was that deep down, he knew he wouldn’t really mind the idea of being in the presence of somebody who loved and appreciated him enough to share a meal with him. Or to be thankful that he was in their lives and wanted him to know it.

That, and he missed the option of not having to stay cooped up in the apartment he mooched off in, eating Kraft Mac straight out the pot while imagining others elsewhere eating homemade baked macaroni as a side to a much more delicious and filling meal.

You personally didn’t feel especially impassioned by the day one way or another to be frank. At least, not usually. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you -- maybe it was because the two of you had just moved in together and wanted to make a statement, or maybe the spirit of the season had finally possessed the both of you, or maybe it was because the delirium of moving in two weeks before a holiday had finally taken its hold (moving is statistically one of the most stressful events in a person’s life, after all) -- but there was a newfound determination in trying to “get this right.”

Of course, there’s nothing and no one who says that a house only becomes a home once it has been christened by a successful feast. But there was a sense of maturity that did come with the idea of holding down even a dinner for two that wasn’t picked up from the deli down the street, or delivered by some knock-kneed cyclist. And it was a maturity the both of you were far too eager to acquire.

Never mind the fact that most of your kitchenware was still lost amongst the boxes (what few of them you could fit in the glorified Fruit-By-the-Foot box you called an apartment). Or that you guys were on a budget. Or that the dinner table was an old plastic collapsible one reminiscent of the tables put up at parties held in gymnasiums. You two were adults, goddammit, and you were going to pull this off at least once! Just once, and things would go back to normal.

. . .

Like most things that tended to involve the great Dewey Finn, you had no idea how this happened.

There was no turkey, no green beans or corn on the cob or even mashed potatoes or a pumpkin pie. Instead, what cluttered the table was a plate of Bagel Bites, tater tots, a plastic case of Lofthouse cookies, and, of course, some Kraft Mac. Neither one of you said anything. At least, not out loud. But the sheepish expressions you gave one another said everything.

Time had gotten away from you both. As did proper ingredients to prepare the more traditional meals associated with the day. You supposed that, in a panicked haze, the both of you wound up grabbing and putting together whatever you could to salvage your pride efforts but you began to suspect that that might not’ve been enough.

“. . . At least we beat Snoopy’s meal,” Dewey tried. A beat passed. Then a snort.

“S-shut up!” you cried. How dare he criticize an animated beagle’s meal of popcorn and toast? Though you had to admit, he had a point: You’d take pizza-decorated bagelettes over popcorn any day -- including Thanksgiving Day, apparently.

In the end, it wasn’t the most . . . traditional situation. And it certainly wasn’t enough to change Dewey’s mind about the day. But you both had to agree: It was a feast that certainly christened your new home together as your own. And for that, you were quite thankful.

Peter B. Parker: Hanukkah

While it wasn’t the most important holiday on the Jewish calendar, Hanukkah still held a heavy level of importance in Peter’s heart. Growing up, it had served as a foundation for so many things in his life: In certain traditions, stability was established; in the togetherness it garnered, there was love; and in the activities partaken, there were memories. Memories of helping Aunt May in the kitchen and of Uncle Ben determining him to be old enough to recite the proper prayers. Of lighting the menorah and setting the room aglow with the history of a miracle . . .

It was therefore a huge regret of Peter’s when he had foregone observing both the winter holiday, as well as many others in his culture during the more recent years when his life began to slip and slide out of control. So when he reemerged from Miles’ dimension, ready and willing to take a chance on life again, it was only natural that Peter was also ready and willing to bring back more positive habits and influences – celebrating Hanukkah included.

And with you, now present in his life and curious and eager as ever, he couldn’t help but feel all the more encouraged to share it. And maybe perhaps show off. Just a little.

For example, once you removed the whole Spider-Man situation, Peter was a pretty simple guy. Especially when it came to foods: Far be it from Peter B. Parker to turn down a burger with some fries or some pizza or street food. So that’s what made it stick out all the more when, after the first night he announced his decision to attempt making challah. Followed by some latkes. Maybe a babka as well. And some sufganiyot. Never mind that he had never actually made some of these without the more experienced Aunt May taking up most of the task. But he was determined and literally and metaphorically hungry for success, and who were you to question his ambitions?

. . . Apparently somewhat saner and more aware than he was. The babka and latkes were simple enough, thankfully. But the sufganiyot? Peter couldn’t fry like that; not with the best materials money could by, when said money was provided on the budget of two people trying to make it in one of the pricier boroughs of New York. And the less said about the challah process, probably the better. . . . Though you still had plenty to say.

“You’re a spider, Peter – why is your weaving coming out so weird?” you questioned, eyeballing the tangled mess of dough. Peter huffed, trying to keep his glower on his failed efforts, rather than redirecting it at you.

“It’s not my fault the guy moves too fast,” he said, referring to the tutorial you had both played on loop. He muttered something along the lines of “for beginners, my ass.” At this rate, the real holiday miracle would be if you not only braided the challah correctly, but also if you didn’t burn down the raggedy apartment. You wanted to say that there would be no shame in calling it and just going to one of the nearby Jewish bakeries for a loaf, but your partner seemed invigorated by spite-induced determination to see this task through.

Never mind that the strands of dough flopped against one another in spite of his best efforts. At this point, it resembled less of a perfect princess braid and more like a flattened Tangela. It was pitiful, really, but you had to admit: The pout his failed efforts had earned him was cute. You didn’t want to think lightly of what he was deeming a situation, but it was quite nice seeing him like this at all. When you had first met he was quite nearly the opposite, all grumpy and aloof and wanting nothing to do with you.

Who would’ve guessed that in due time, he’d become the very man who stood before you, eager to interact with you and bond with you, sharing moments like these . . . Moments which you wish he would just go ahead and enjoy along with you.

“Hey, Peter?”

“Ye -- ” A small blast of flour collided with his crooked nose, stopping the man short. “HEY!” He cracked one eye open just enough to glare at your grinning face.

“Don’t be such a Grinch, Peeby -- ”

“Wrong holiday,” your boyfriend snarked as he wiped his face.

“Hush. Anyway, we still got a few more nights to figure this out,” you reminded. You placed a quick peck on his powdery cheek for good measure. His shoulders slumped with a sigh. As much as he didn’t want to say it, he knew you had a point. Maybe he had gotten a bit too (literally) wrapped up in getting all this right. Though he did feel his spirits lift somewhat as you placed your hand over his with assurance.

Somewhat. All that was missing was --

Pff!

“UGH! PETER!” Your hands flew to your face in an effort to wipe away the fistful of flour that now caked it. All the while, the offender himself laughed. He was probably going to have to appease you with some chocolate gelt “for damages” but as far as he was concerned, it was worth it. After all, what better way to share these important moments than with his favorite person?

Tadashi Hamada: Christmas

A local little cafe in the heart of San Fransokyo was simultaneously the best place to be for the holiday season, and the worst. The great things about it were the cute store-bought and homemade decorations that decked the cozy halls of the establishment; the seasonal baked goods and sandwich specials that made the Lucky Cat smell like cinnamon or roasted turkey; the cozy feeling that welcomed you like a hug whenever you walked in.

Alternatively, there was the whole to-do with picky or rude customers coming in from out of town; the saturation of Christmas music screeching through the speakers; and way-too-hype women taking up tables for hours at a time after spending the day shopping (and clogging the already small aisles with the bags from said shopping).

But all in all, Tadashi made it all better.

Having grown up in the Lucky Cat, he’d long since learned how to cancel out the grinchiness the holiday season brought out, and was more than happy to help you do the same using his own methods. If you focused on the little things, he figured, you could attach sweeter memories and associations to them. Especially if you veered a little off the usual path.

Sure, there was joining him in the kitchen to prepare and bake cranberry-speckled pastries and frost cookies to resemble familiar holiday characters and items. But there was also stringing popcorn garlands together (“Tadashi, you’re the youngest 70-something year-old I have ever met.” “Hush, you; I’m doing you a favor by laying my Christmas cheer all over you.” “Phrasing, ‘Dashi, geez!”). But at the end of the day, there was one thing in particular that your boyfriend did to sweeten the deal. The one thing only someone like Tadashi could do: Snowball fight a la manipulation of barometric pressure.

Following the incident with the snow machine two years ago, Tadashi had to make a promise to Aunt Cass to only use it outside. Away from the house. That suited Tadashi just fine. After all: What better way to pelt your loved one in the face using snow warfare than to do so in a wide-open space like the park? And while those fortunate (and unfortunate) enough to have come upon the unusual winter wonderland he had created, the facts still stood: This was about you and him. You vs him, diving behind mounds of snow, screeching with both joy and discomfort whenever the snow made an impact against bare skin, eyes tearing up from the cold . . .

You could’ve done this for hours, especially since you were pretty positive Tadashi was letting you win. If only he hadn’t called for an armistice.

“ ‘Armistice’? For what? You scared I’ll beat your butt again?” you taunted through chattering teeth.

“No, you ding-dong,” Tadashi shook his head. “Look at you: You’re clearly at your limit with the cold.”

“Nuh-uh!” As if to betray you, your body gave a sudden jolt; a release of shivers like a spring being let loose after coiling. As if unimpressed, the young man reached for your gloved hands and gave one a gentle squeeze.

“Does that hurt?” he questioned.

You winced. “N-no . . .”

You heard him click his tongue. “Ah. Enforced armistice.”

“No fair!” you whined.

“If you sign the treaty, I will include hot cocoa when we get back.”

. . . Well, he could make a mean hot chocolate. Not too sweet, not too bitter, it was perfectly creamy with only the slightest hint of cinnamon for kicks. It was the perfect thing to relax you, causing you to come undone as it’s warmth spread about you inside while the warmth of the kotatsu took care of you on the outside.

“Comfy?” your boyfriend asked. You purred, foregoing a more proper answer just to take another sip of the glorious hot drink. Your enthusiasm earned you a chuckle from him as he inched closer to you. Just enough to hold your hand in his. “For body heat purposes” he might’ve insisted, had you asked. Not that you minded it: It was just what the evening needed to feel complete. Not the goofy, awful ugly sweater he wore that made Rudolph’s nose blink when you pressed a certain spot; not the gentle crooning of Christmas classics sounding from the miniature stereo Tadashi had set up; not even stockings carefully lined along the makeshift mantle, or the presents glimmering beneath the lights of the twinkling tree.

Just the warm feeling of togetherness. That this beautiful man you get to call yours is so willing to share how he celebrates with you. And that you, it turn, get to celebrate with him.

“Hey, you made her cocoa?!” Hiro’s complaining ripped through the air.

And his small but nevertheless vibrant family, of course.

Bruce Wayne: New Years Eve

Let’s face it: New Years Eve sucks. All everyone wants to do is throw a party (even when they actually don’t really want to), the parties are either obnoxiously loud or awkwardly quiet (there is no in-between), there’s never any food because all people wanna do (or have been convinced to do) is drink, and the alcohol is usually crap by the time you get there because everyone already knew to tackle the good booze as soon as they arrived.

Suffice to say, you had some gripes when it came to New Years Eve. And in spite of the luxurious images that tended to come to mind, parties thrown by the wealthy weren’t any different from the average one thrown by the common man. Really, the only difference was that the alcohol was of higher quality and the gatherings were usually held at some large hall like a hotel ballroom or even at a prestigious gallery.

But even if you’d known that beforehand, you still would’ve accompanied Bruce to one such party. Bruce wasn’t fond of them himself, but he needed to at least make an appearance to save face with all the moochers and bigwigs from neighboring industries and enterprises. You were honestly just there for support, though it was just as agonizing for you as it was for him.

Well, at least you didn’t have to actually talk extensively with anyone, you mused. You’d been nursing your drink for the last half hour or so, trying to walk that thin line between going about undisturbed while also not coming across as frigid or wallflowery. Not too far off, you could see Bruce smiling at another partygoer: A buxom ginger, surely an important figure in her own right, but clearly seeing no harm in grinning coquettishly at the affluent Prince of Gotham. You felt no trace of jealousy within you, however. You knew Bruce’s real smile, and the one he was currently providing her wasn’t it in the slightest.

No, the real one was the one he flashed you when he glanced over at you to make sure that you were doing fine off and alone. A sweet, glorious smile that reached his eyes. Though, there were also traces of exhaustion. And you suspected that the smile you returned held just as much because soon after that, you watched him excuse himself from whatever conversation he’d been trying to carry before making his way over to you.

“How’re you holding up?” he inspected.

You shrugged and sighed, “It is what it is. I’m making peace with the fact that the last thing I would’ve eaten this year would’ve been an assortment of cocktail wienies, what I think might’ve been pate, and ginger ale.” You’d meant for it to come across as more humorous, but the dry tone you had delivered your words in ruined the effect.

Bruce winced and offered yet another smile: A wobbly, more sheepish one.

“You ready to go home?”

God, yes.

“No, no,” you replied. “Really, it’s fine. Besides, it’s almost midnight anyway -- it probably wouldn’t look good if Bruce Wayne ditched a party his glorious hosts have so graciously invited him to.”

You watched as your significant other raised his brow. “Honey, I’m Bruce Wayne: I’m known for ditching parties.”

“Oh,” you said simply. Fair point. To your minor relief and slight embarrassment, he huskily chuckled.

“C’mon,” he sighed, placing his hand on your lower back as guidance. “My ass is sore from all the butt-kissing. Let’s go home where it’s warm. And quiet.”

“And we can actually eat!” you chirped, a little too excitedly. Once again, your embarrassment was met with approval.

The outside was both quieter and just as noisy as the inside of the celebration. Quieter because of the muting effect the fallen snow had, but also more lively because of the surrounding restaurants and streets and bars filled with people cheering and blowing party horns and singing in slurred joy. You liked it better than the party, if you had to be honest. But maybe perhaps because as you wandered the snow-caked streets to reach where Bruce had parked the car, you felt his gloved hand wrap around your own.

Of course, it was probably just to keep your hand warm -- maybe even just to make sure you kept pace with him, or that if you wouldn’t fall if you hit a small patch of black ice. But in a little corner of your mind, you couldn’t help but romanticize it: It was like he was accompanying you into the new year in a way. Just you and him. No loud parties, no pressures, no being anywhere or with anyone you didn’t want to be.

“Thanks, by the way.” Bruce broke the silence in a puff of cold air. “I know these really aren’t your thing -- I mean, personally, they aren’t mine, either, but you really didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to. But I appreciate that you . . . that you did.”

Your cheeks burned, though not from the whipping cold of the late December air.

“Of course I did . . .” you reasoned. “I know it sounds goofy but . . . we’re in this together, y’know?” You gave his hand a small squeeze. He squeezed yours right back, but with a bit more power. The warmth of it traveled up into your chest and cheeks. You licked your chapping lips.

“Besides,” you continued, “if I had just stayed home, I would’ve been bored. And probably would’ve given my New Year’s Kiss to Alfred.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, who knows? New year, new me, right?”

You couldn’t have imagined what Bruce would’ve responded with next if it weren’t for the sudden distraction: The air, disorderly and sloppy mere seconds before, had all at once seemed to become uniform with the sounds of chanting. A count down.

You’d lived through so many New Years before, you weren’t quite sure what made this one different. There was no reason for you to pause as you did, your heart suddenly thundering in your chest at the realization of what was to come. It was just another year, right? A new year with new promises, new disappointments, new surprises both good and bad, new --

“ -- two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

You had barely had a moment to register the words before you became distracted with registering something entirely different: A pair of warm lips pressed against your own, the feeling of large arms wrapped about your waist to pull you in close.

As he parted from you, Bruce flashed you one of his real smiles once more. One that denoted the mischief only you were truly privy to.

“Beat him to it,” he teased.

And for as shocked as you were over the exchange of the midnight kiss, you couldn’t help but blink . . . and find yourself in a giggling fit. That was why this year felt different: You had never had a boyfriend on New Years before. Scratch that: You had never had Bruce for New Years. And that made a world of difference. You didn’t want to make any assumptions but . . . it was a pretty great way to start a new year, if you did say so yourself.

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sassyhobbits · 3 years

Note

16. "I can't believe you're making snow angels at a time like this!"

and here we have the ONS christmas special!! my last xmas fic this season and i hope you all enjoy! have a great holidays everyone!! <3

~~~

Aelin Galathynius loved Yulemas.

She loved the smells, the sights, the foods. She relished in spending time with her closest family and friends, giving them gifts she knew would make their faces light up. She loved laying by the fire and reminiscing.

This was Aelin's third Yulemas with Rowan. She fell more in love with her husband everyday, and always enjoyed spending the holiday with him. The only thing that she could have wished for this year was that their daughter had decided to join them.

Aelin was heavily pregnant. Their daughter was about a week late and Aelin wanted her out, out, out already. It wasn’t only that her feet were always swollen or her back ached constantly, but also that Rowan had become terribly overbearing. There wasn't a single thing Aelin tried to do that her husband didn't attempt to do for her before she could. At the beginning of her pregnancy, she enjoyed it. She liked when Rowan would grab the remote or get out of bed to fetch her slippers if she asked. But by now, it was beginning to lose its charm.

It was Yulemas eve. The palace was filled with their friends and family. They had even invited some of Rowan’s cousins to Orynth. Arlene and Isolde were excited to enjoy their first northern Yulemas.

They had all spent a few hours lounging in the parlor, indulging in wine and other spiced holiday drinks. Aelin sipped on a hot chocolate, cuddled into Rowan’s side, his hand a steady weight on her belly. It had all been wonderful, but after a while Aelin began to feel a bit warm with the fire and the bodies stuffing the cozy parlor

"Hey, Ro?" she whispered to her husband.

"What is it, Fireheart?"

"Will you take a walk with me?"

He smiled and nodded. "I'd love to."

He helped her off the couch, grabbing her boots and her coat and helping her slip them on. No one noticed when they ducked out of the parlor, walking down the halls towards the entrance to the gardens.

They had become a wintry wonderland in the recent days, covered in a fresh blanket of soft snow. The night was silent, the sky clear and beautiful. Aelin held Rowan’s arm tightly as they meandered slowly over the snowy path.

Suddenly, Aelin hissed in discomfort, placing a hand over her huge stomach as their baby girl fussed.

“Is everything alright?” Rowan asked, brows knitted in concern.

“Fine,” Aelin assured him, not wanting him to go full mother hen mode. “She’s just making herself comfortable, apparently.”

Her husband sighed heavily. “It seems she likes it in there.”

“Well, it’s cold as hell out here so I don’t blame her.”

Rowan released a bark of laughter. “I was hoping she’d be with us by now.”

“Me too.” Aelin pouted down at her belly. “I had some adorable little Yulemas outfits for her.”

“I know you did, love.”

They continued their trek through the gardens, admiring the lights that had been strung up and other holiday decorations. Aelin always enjoyed decorating the palace. It was one of her favorite parts of the season.

The princess was just about to suggest they go back inside when she felt something strange. A sensation she had never endured before; a little pop followed by something decidedly wet between her legs. Aelin didn't have to be a rocket scientist to realize what, exactly, that feeling was.

"Rowan?" she rasped, tightening her grip on her husband's arm.

"Hm?"

"My water just broke."

"Your water just what-?!"

Rowan’s head whipped towards her, eyes wide in shock. In his bewilderment, her normally graceful husband wasn't watching where he was going, stepping on a slick piece of eyes. His feet flew out from under him, tumbling back into a fresh bank of snow.

Despite herself, Aelin released a laugh. Rowan leaned his head upwards, flakes scattered in his slicer hair, arms spread on either side of him like a star.

“I can’t believe you’re making snow angels at a time like this!” the princess cried playfully. “We’re having a baby!”

Rowan blinked once, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “We’re having a baby,” he repeated in a whisper. “We’re having our baby!”

Aelin could only grin.

…

It didn’t take long to head back inside and gather the things they needed to make the trip to the hospital. Aelin had thought Rowan was being ridiculous earlier, but it was nothing compared to his actions now. He was everywhere at once, not allowing her to pick up anything or even open a door for herself. Yet, Aelin was too nervous to even really scold him about it.

She and Rowan were already getting into a car in the garage by the time they let their other friends and family know what was happening. Before she knew it, they were on the way to the hospital.

Aelin knew that she likely still had a fair share of time before things would get serious, but her mother had faced many complications when giving birth to her. Aelin’s entire family had agreed to play it safe.

There was a private, secure suite waiting for Aelin by the time they pulled up to the hospital. She was only just starting to feel the first of her contractions when she slipped into the shapeless hospital gown.

Aelin spent a few hours speaking with nurses and doctors, getting poked and prodded and questioned. She spoke with her friends and family over the phone, convinced Rowan to read to her even though her husband seemed much more nervous than she did.

As the night wore on, Aelin’s contractions grew stronger and more frequent. A little after one in the morning, the doctor came in and informed her that it was time to start pushing. It was then that Aelin felt those first twinges of fear.

“Rowan?” Aelin squeaked, looking to her husband who was seated beside her.

He reached out, brushing a strand of her hair from her sweaty forehead. “What is it, Fireheart?”

“I’m scared.”

His lips tightened a fraction of an inch, grabbing her hand and giving it a firm squeeze. She could see in his eyes that he was frightened too, but he would be strong. Strong for both of them, and the little girl they were waiting to meet. He leaned close and kissed her flushed forehead.

“I’ll be here every step of the way, Aelin. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…

The birthing process wasn’t easy, though no one was expecting it to be. Aelin felt as though she was being torn in two, her throat raw from screaming in pain. Even through the haze of the agony, she could tell that Rowan was beyond stressed and seeing her like this was likely shaving years off his life. It was a good thing his hair was already silver, because this experience probably would have turned his hair gray anyway.

Still, he was nothing but supportive: whispering words of encouragement, letting her grip his hand as tightly as she needed, dabbing her sweaty forehead with a cool cloth.

It was the wee hours of Yulemas morning, the sky turning a buttery yellow as the sun rose above the jagged peaks of the Staghorns. Aelin was beyond exhausted. She had been pushing and screaming for hours. All she wanted to do was sleep.

A ragged cry tore from her throat before slumping back on to her pile of pillows, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m so tired,” she sobbed, voice hoarse and crackling. “Ro, I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, love. You’re doing so good. You’re almost there.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Yes you can, Aelin.” Rowan squeezed her hand tightly. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just a little bit longer. I know you can do it.”

“He’s right, princess,” the doctor said from his position between her legs. “Your daughter’s nearly here. Just one more big push. Can you do that for me?”

Aelin clenched her jaw and nodded. She had survived much worse than this. She could do anything. The princess sucked down one last deep, bracing breath, preparing herself before giving a mighty push.

Aelin wailed as she put everything she had in her into this last push, sure she must have been breaking the bones in Rowan’s hand with how hard she was gripping it.

And, where one cry ended, another began.

A shrill shriek that did not come from Aelin filled the air just as her own voice failed her. Her strength left her body, collapsing against the pillows just as she saw the doctor hand a screaming, bloody, wiggling thing to the nurse.

Her daughter. That was her daughter.

Aelin forced herself to sit up straighter as the nurses carried a bundle of pink blankets towards her before carefully placing it into her arms.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing as Aelin held her daughter in her arms for the first time. Her face was red, and her little face was pinched up as she cried, but she was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“Hi,” Aelin rasped, giving another tiny sob. “Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Rowan was a warm presence at her side, looking down at his daughter in wonder. “She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.”

“I’m so in love already it doesn’t feel possible.”

The doctor smiled at the little family before them. “Have you picked out a name for the little princess yet?”

Aelin nodded, tracing the shape of her daughter’s nose. “Eliora. Her name is Eliora.”

The doctors and nurses took a few steps back, giving them a bit of privacy as they grew acquainted with one another.

“Happy Yulemas, Eliora,” Rowan whispered to the newborn.

“It is Yulemas, isn’t it?” Aelin asked. She had lost track of time during the birthing process. “It looks like we’re gonna have to wait to do presents.”

“No offence, Fireheart, but I don’t think you can out do yourself now.” He ran his fingers over Eliora’s silvery-blonde hair. “This is the best Yulemas gift I’ve ever could have asked for. Thank you. I love you. I love you both so much.”

Aelin looked up, beaming and kissing Rowan quickly, scooting over so he could sit beside her on the hospital bed. He perched himself on the corner, tucking Aelin under his arm and holding both her and their daughter close.

Now Aelin Galathynius had another reason to love Yulemas.

#ONE NIGHT STANDARDS #rowaelin #my writing

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

Text

IOTA Reviews: Furious Fu

Well, I'm surprised this is here so quickly, but here we are. The first episode of Season 4. While I was on the fence about reviewing it even though it isn't in English (though there’s one in Spanish with English subtitles), but it seems like there are people that want to see me do it anyway, so who am I to let them down? Hopefully, I won't be regretting my decision to go over every episode of this season later on.

Will Marinette's new position as Guardian lead to more storylines other than her suffering? Will the show actually resolve the whole Love Square debacle this season? Why am I asking you all these questions?

Let's dive right into the first (actually sixth because of course it is) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season, Furious Fu.

We start off with all of the Kwamis under Marinette's care asking to see Former Master by Default Fu, before Marinette reminds them, and by extension, the audience, that he erased his memory during the events of last season, making her the new Guardian. They continue to act like hyperactive children until Marinette finally caves in and carries them in her backpack, although not before they give us one of the most unintentionally creepy images in the entire show.

I apologize in advance for your nightmares tonight.

The only Kwami who stays is the Dog Kwami, Barkk, who looks like she's going to see if Marinette's parents have any wine in the kitchen once she leaves.

Marinette heads down to the train station, where she meets up with Fu and Marianne, a former confidant/old flame who he recently reunited with. It turns out that inbetween Seasons 3 and 4, not only has Fu been living in London with Marianne while taking up painting as a hobby, but they've actually gotten married. So yeah, while Marinette has to deal with the stress of protecting some of the most dangerous artifacts on the planet, Fu's just been chilling in London, oblivious to the fact that he forced a teenage girl to do his job for him. Nothing but the best from this show's wise and lovable “mentor”.

After heading back home, Marinette sees a strange man who has broken into her room and demands to know where she got the Miracle Box from.

This is Master Su-Han, the former Guardians before Fu accidentally killed them all. He's naturally not happy with the “improper” form of the Miracle Box (he's not the only one) and wants to know how Marinette got in in the first place. When she says she got it from Fu...

Yeah... while it isn't as obvious as “Animaestro” and “Felix”, you can kind of tell that this is a “turn the critics into enemies” episode. Even though the criticism towards Master Fu isn't as prevalent as the criticism those episodes were meant to call out, there have been some fans on Tumblr and Reddit who have criticized Fu's actions in the show, calling out his decision to make Marinette a guardian in particular. Likewise, Su-Han is meant to be a strawman to mirror the complaints, and show why they are ridiculous. Though ironically, Su-Han's dialogue and rules also unintentionally highlight how incompetent the Order of the Guardians was, but we'll get to it later.

But because the script says she has to, Marinette defends Fu's decision to make her Guardian. She even refers to Fu being the reason the Guardians were all killed in the first place as a “mistake”.

NO HE DIDN'T! How was what Fu did in any way a sacrifice? When he made Marinette the new Guardian “Miracle Queen”, All Fu really did was make the box float for a bit before it immediately landed back in Chloe's hands. If the box had magically floated over to Ladybug in the process, I'd see why Fu would have done it. It'd still be reckless, but it would be a good way to escape from Hawkmoth and Mayura's trap. Hell, the Kwamis had already refused to let Chloe transform when she had their Miraculous, so there was no real threat there. We don't even know if Hawkmoth knew how to transform with the other Miraculous. So again, I raise the question: How was Fu forcing Ladybug to take his job while he gets to paint in London a heroic sacrifice? How can you even frame that as anything but cowardly?

Su-Han notices a few of the Kwamis are missing, and takes notice of Plagg, who was shown to devastate Paris with a single tap to the ground, being missing in particular. He's even more horrified to see Marinette's earrings, because, get this, Guardians aren't allowed to wear Miraculous.

You're telling me that if someone gets their hands on a Miraculous and goes rogue, the Guardians are supposed to fight them with their bare hands? They don't even explain it by saying something like how the Guardians aren't supposed to be tempted by the power of the Miraculous, we're just supposed to accept that rule as fact. How are you supposed to fight someone with superpowers like illusions, shapeshifting, teleportation, and time travel on your own?

So Su-Han orders the Kwamis back into the Miracle Box (still don't get why they have to listen to him) and lists off some of the rules Marinette broke like he was a Ferengi reading the Rules of Acquisition. He does all of this while voicing several concerns fans have about Marinette being Guardian, but rather than being out of concern or compassion for her, it's condescension.

It's pretty easy to understand Su-Han's side of the story, and if the episode actually acknowledged it, I wouldn't mind. But no, everything he says is automatically supposed to be wrong, because when has anything with a different viewpoint portrayed as a good guy in this show?

Su-Han orders Ladybug to take him to see Cat Noir before demanding they both hand over their Miraculous, and we learn something interesting about the Order of the Guardians.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

Of all the stupid Guardian rules Master Fuckup didn't blindly follow, it's the rule that Miraculous are ONLY SUPPOSED TO GO TO ADULTS!? Why the hell did he even recruit Marinette and Adrien in the first place if Miraculous for adults to use? What did he even see in them? All they did was help him once!

And again, we're supposed to see Su-Han as wrong for doing this. Why can't Ladybug simply tell Su-Han about Hawkmoth and ask for his help before she returns her Miraculous to him? That way, Hawkmoth is defeated, and Su-Han gets the Miraculous back. And it's not like Ladybug doesn't try to talk things out with Su-Han, so you can't say she didn't consider it. Oh wait, that would imply Su-Han is supposed to have a point in his claims.

Though to the show's credit, Su-Han's words do get to Ladybug, causing herself to doubt herself and her ability to stop Hawkmoth, but Cat Noir helps to reassure her, saying he'll only return his Miraculous only if she asks him to. It's a brief moment, but it's nice to see him place his faith in his partner in a platonic way.

Less nice to see is Cat Noir finding out that if Ladybug gives up her position as Guardian, she'll lose her memory like Fu. Except... Cat Noir was there when Miraculous Ladybug failed to restore Fu's memory, so why does he see this as new information? Did he only think it would happen to Fu? Did he lose some of his memory at the end of the last season?

This information is enough for Cat Noir to start a fight with Su-Han, with Ladybug abandoning any attempts at diplomacy by declaring that Cat Noir won't lose his Miraculous. It's a little frustrating to see them engage Su-Han, but again, this is meant to show Cat Noir trying to protect Ladybug so she doesn't lose her memory. This scene still does a good job showcasing the bond the two heroes have. It's far better than anything we got from the New York special.

Su-Han is trained in... Oh God... Mirakung-Fu, which somehow gives him the ability to predict Ladybug and Cat Noir's moves before they make them, comparing it to his rage “adaptating and always finding a way”. Translation: Astruc ripped off something else from Dragon Ball, Ultra Instinct. Ladybug distracts Su-Han and gets the Miracle Box, while Cat Noir gets his staff. After briefly trapping him under some rubble (which I guess doesn't kill him because of his “Mirakung-Fu”), the two heroes escape.

Meanwhile, Shadowmoth, the upgraded form of Hawkmoth that I'll talk about in his debut proper, senses Su-Han's negative emotions and sends out an Akuma after him. Su-Han sees Fu painting in the park, and steals his cane, thinking it's a Guardian's staff he can sue to track down the Miraculous. When the Akuma reaches him, Su-Han uses a technique to repel the Akuma completely. I like this idea. It makes sense that a monk would find a way to mask their emotions and achieve enough of a state of zen to ward off an Akuma. The Akuma instead reaches Fu, turning him into Furious Fu.

I like the design of this Akuma. While I personally thought it could have made for a more interesting fight if he was still short (like Yoda's fight scenes in the prequels), I think it's really clever to incorporate Fu's Hawaiian shirt into what looks like a Chinese gi. Furious Fu's powers are kind of like Evilustrator, only he has to draw down a Chinese character on a talisman before the power takes immediate effect, and lacks the weakness Evilustrator had with his tablet being easily breakable, with the corrupted object, a paintbrush on his ear, being harder to reach.

Ladybug and Cat Noir retreat to the unnamed stadium that the local school has gym class in for some reason, where they're confronted by Su-Han, who in turn, is confronted by Furious Fu. This leads to a three-way fight for the Miracle Box, which they all kick around like a soccer ball. Cat Noir even gets a goal. All around, pretty fun bit, though not for the Kwamis, I guess.

As soon as he sees Furious Fu get the Miracle Ball, Su-Han hides while Ladybug and Cat Noir get beat up by the Akuma. While he does get up eventually, he's still taken out by Furious Fu. Apparently, Su-Han's “Mirakung-Fu” is only useful against Miraculous holders, not supervillains created with the powers of a Miraculous. How the hell does that work? That's like being a trained soldier in the Marine Corps who's terrible at laser tag.

Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm (again, I'll talk about the suit change for its proper debut episode), and gets a pair of wire cutters. She uses them go get a soccer ball from a nearby container while Cat Noir keeps Furious Fu busy. Furious Fu, in turn, uses one of his talismans to predict Ladybug's plan, and manages to immobilize both heroes, but not before Ladybug traps the soccer ball underneath Cat Noir's arm before Furious Fu can use his Cataclysm against him.

How do they stop him? By having Marianne casually walk up to him and break the paintbrush while he's distracted. Honestly, that's a pretty funny payoff. Not “Puppeteer” or “Bakerix” funny, but it's still one of the funnier Akuma defeats I've seen. Another funny joke is Cat Noir using his Cataclysm on a soccer ball before he accidentally uses it on Ladybug and Marianne for their post-victory fist bump.

Later on, after Marinette sees Marianne and Fu off while the latter continues to avoid responsibility, Su-Han apologizes to her, and decides to trust her. He'll still take away the Miracle Box if she screws up, but it's a start to someone Marinette can at least consult Guardian to Guardian.

And honestly? I think this episode is a pretty good start to Season 4. It really feels like the writers are learning from their mistakes in Season 3.

Yes, Marinette is blamed by Su-Han, and while it is frustrating to turn Su-Han into a strawman, unlike other Season 3 episodes where Marinette is blamed, the blame itself is unwarranted, and by the end of the episode, it looks like Su-Han is willing to change, as he apologizes to Fu after he's de-evilized. That's a lot more than I can say for Astruc's other straw characters like Chloe and Felix. Sure, some of Su-Han's concerns are brushed off, but it's still a start.

From what little we saw of him, Cat Noir is also a lot better, really showing the character development promised towards the end of “Miracle Queen”. He's thankfully turned down the flirting, and I can only hope he keeps his promise as the season goes on. I hope we get an episode or two showing his perspective on Ladybug becoming Guardian, and how he feels less like her actual partner now. You know, something that can reinforce their bond as partners.

My biggest complaints from the episode really come from the way Fu is portrayed, and even then, it's only because of events that happen because of what he did last season and how much of a screw-up he is, despite the narrative trying to tell the audience he isn't. Then there's the revelation that Fu's cane has the ability to track down Miraculous. So... we're seriously learning this now? Why didn't Fu use it earlier to look for the two missing Miraculous? He literally has a Miraculous detector! But hopefully, the consequences of Fu's actions won't affect this season too much.

So yeah, I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about this season so far. Maybe Season 4 won't be that bad after all.

Oh.

Oh no...

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

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taking a break from my other fics to finally writing this one. It's for the Metal Heart's series, taking some aspects i had featured in Summoning Family, but want to write about in a non-crossover fashion.

More Than One

Grumbot tried not to keep shifting in his seat as he wrote in the book Mumbo had given him. He was sick, and Grum’s dad was taking care of him. Jrum of course just wanted to play, so Grum offered to take his daddy’s place at the Pacific meeting. He had shown Iskall the notes his daddy had written in the book and now the other redstoner was trying to replicate Mumbo’s messy blueprints.

As they did that, they asked Grum questions about the blueprints, having Grum make notes of anything the two of them weren’t sure of. Which was pretty much just anything that Iskall wasn’t sure of since Grum was absolutely clueless when it came to redstone. And the more questions that Grum was asked and couldn’t answer, the more frustrated he became.

Grum was built to be asked questions and give answers. That was his main purpose. Sure, now he was just supposed to be a kid, and he seemed to be good at building, but he still felt like he needed to do this. “Hey, are you doing alright?”

At Iskall’s voice, Grum looked up from the book and to his auncle. “I am feeling stressed and agitated.” Was his reply, the words falling out before he could think about it.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Iskall replied, pausing on their work. “I mean I’m frustrated enough trying to figure out what Mumbo’s notes mean and I work with plenty of redstone. You’re young enough that I’m sure it’s tougher for you.”

Grum frowned. “But Jrum can understand redstone just fine.”

“That he can.” Iskall nodded. “But he’s not you. Grian’s been around longer than Mumbo has and he can’t wrap his head around it all. It’s fine if you don’t understand it all.”

The bot reluctantly agreed, but he couldn’t help the feeling that not knowing was a bad thing, especially after all the questions he left unanswered that just left him feeling wrong. Iskall didn’t ask any more questions thankfully, but it just left Grum to sit and stew, slowly feeling worse and worse.

When they finally wrapped up, Iskall helped Grum back to Mumbo’s base, carrying the bot as they flew to the jungle. As they flew, Grum finally felt a bit calmer as the wind rushed past them. He finally stopped dwelling on the things he felt he had to do. That was only when people asked questions, needed information, stuff like that. But just flying, or spending time at home, that felt better.

His dads weren’t looking for a mayoral robot, they were just looking for a kid. And Grum could be a kid. Sort of. As Iskall landed at the ancient ruins that was Mumbo’s base, Grum started worrying again. Jrum also seemed to get the being a kid thing down. He was always playing games, reading picture books and running around. Grum didn’t really do much of that.

“Hi sweetie.” Grian said as he picked Grum up into his arms. “Did you have fun with Iskall?”

Grum wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that at first, sort of struggling through it. “Well… Redstone is tough, even Iskall said so. And well… it was frustrating, but I did get to write down a bunch of notes. I know Daddy probably can’t look at them and help, but that can be for later, right?”

Grian nodded with a smile that made Grum feel better. “I’m sure he can do that when he’s feeling better. Now, I’m sure you’re tired from helping out. I’ll make you something for dinner and then you can go to bed.”

Grum agreed and then waited until his dad came back with some things for him to eat, like redstone, quartz and stone. The bot happily ate his meal and then started to head off to bed, but then stopped to look back to Grian. “Um, dad?”

Grian looked up from what he was working on. “Yeah Grum? What do you need?”

The bot fidgeted a bit before finally asking his question. “Could you maybe read me a story?” Because he knew that was a thing kids were supposed to ask for, and right now he should be doing kid stuff.

Grian beamed at the request, and before long, Grum was in bed, starting to charge as his dad sat next to him in a chair, reading a book about a chicken and a fox. Grum could tell that some things were being changed a little for an extra flair, like the chicken knowing a certain superhero who was definitely not Grian. But that just made it feel more natural, and soon Grum drifted off to sleep.

And woke up hours later with a nightmare.

Grum didn’t remember much after waking up. He remembered he yelled, waking Jrum up who had come to bed sometime after him. He remembered Grian racing in with a sword, which just scared Grum more. He didn’t know why, it just did. He remembered the sword being put away and then being picked up, but then after that, nothing really.

His best guess right now was that he was still tired, probably wasn’t plugged in right. His nightmare drained what little battery he had left and then by the time Dad had picked him up, he lost power completely. It looked like after that, he was put back to bed, seeing as how he was plugged in again, now fully charged, but what was concerning was that he wasn’t in his normal bed.

Instead of being in the room that he and Jrum shared at their daddy’s base, Grum instead found himself in the large bed Mumbo claimed as his own. Usually if Dad was around after working late into the night, he would also use that bed, and it was even big enough for all four of them to be on there at once. But right now, it felt much larger with Grum being the only one there.

Unplugging himself, Grum crawled out of the bed before making his way to the main area of the base to hopefully find one or even both of his dads. He was glad to see Mumbo sitting down at a table with a plate of food in front of him. The man was still a little pale, but compared to how he looked the other day, Grum could tell his daddy was feeling much better.

“Hi there Grum. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Better.” Grum replied with a smile.

“No more nightmare monsters laughing at you?” Mumbo asked, which just confused the bot.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you told Gr- your dad and I about the nightmare you had. I’m guessing based on your response that you didn't have it again.”

Grum wracked his brain, but couldn’t think of any nightmares. “I guess so. I don’t even remember having it the first time. Or even telling you.”

“Well, you did seem pretty tired and shaken up.” Mumbo said. “I’m sure it’s actually a good thing you don’t remember much.”

But Grum wasn’t as sure as his daddy sounded. He didn’t like not knowing. He was supposed to know things. But, that was more like the mayoral part of him. He had been trying to be more like a regular kid, so maybe that was part of it all? He just wished he knew more about what a kid was supposed to do.

“Daddy? Where’s Jrum?” Grum asked, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that Jrum seemed to have things all figured out.

“He’s out at the building area.” Mumbo replied. “And if he’s not there, well he’s most likely at Scar’s village.”

Grum nodded. “Okay. I think I’m gonna find him to go play.” And Mumbo smiled, which made the bot feel like he had gotten something right. From there, it was just a quick trip down to his Daddy’s old hobbit hole, taking a minecart over to his dad’s one, and they going along the edge of the lake to Scar’s village.

Grum figured the village would be the first place to check because it was closer, and if Jrum was there, his trip would be shorter. The village was pretty big though, and it took longer than he thought to search through it, eventually making him wish he had just listened to his daddy and search the build area. At this point though, Grum had an idea. Sure, he could look for Jrum and get his brother’s help, but Grum was the older one. He should be figuring it out by himself. Jrum always played in the village, so he would do the same just to prove to himself that he could do it.

The next thing Grum knew, he was in his dad’s arms, the man laughing at Scar who was very upset about how in the world the village was on fire. Of course, Xisuma had made it so nothing could actually burn down, but the sight was still impressive to behold. After Grum looked the scene over, Grian leaned his head down just a bit and whispered. “I totally want to join your side for this war.”

While Grum was very glad that his dad was supportive and that no one was actually hurt, the bot was still very confused. What war? What had happened? And why couldn’t he remember?

Grum flopped on his bed after getting home. This was the opposite of what he wanted. He had just gone to play, and now here he was in the middle of starting some new event that was now supposed to lead into the end of the season. He hadn’t even been here the whole season, much less more than one, so how was he going to do that? And then since he apparently started it, everyone seemed to be putting him in charge.

They had held a private meeting, which Grum pretended to be excited about, then there was a whirlwind of ideas that overwhelmed him. But his dads were there, so Grum didn’t want to disappoint them and tried to focus and participate, but by the end, he just wanted to curl up in bed. He almost managed to do that, but then he was surprised by Jrum coming in and jumping on his bed.

“Hey! You’re done with your meeting now, right?” Jrum asked, sounding so chipper it just made Grum feel more tired. “Does that mean we can play? I thought about doing hide and seek in Uncle K’s and Aunt Cleo’s city!”

Initially, Grum just wanted to roll over and ignore his brother, but then he realized it was actually a perfect idea. He could hide somewhere and have Jrum spend hours looking for him, or Jrum would hide and he would pretend to search for his brother. “Alright. That sounds like a good idea. Let’s head over that way.”

By the time they reached the city, Jrum agreed that he would let Grum hide and he himself could be the seeker. Grum was glad for that and went off to hide, finding a building with a few floors and hiding at one in the middle. And from there it was just a matter of waiting.

As Grum waited, he started to regret it. The concrete making the building up was starting to feel wrong in a way. And suddenly he kept checking the time, making sure it hadn’t been too long. A skeleton spawning in a dark corner and shooting him shook him out of those thoughts, but it didn’t change the fact that he had them in the first place.

Grum took the closest thing he had to a deep breath and thought it over. He was the one who put himself here. He was not stuck here. He was just playing a game. Playing a game didn’t involve any questions or responsibilities. It was the opposite of being stuck in a box. It was a box he made.

And that gave Grum an idea. He always felt stressed from thinking people expected so much from him, but that was from him expecting them to ask for everything. If instead, he thought of it like different parts, different boxes people would want, it would fit better and he could feel better.

Grum was so happy with the realization that he stopped going on autopilot and realized he had been killing more monsters that spawned. Once they were taken care of, he gave Jrum a hint, and before long he was found and they were going back home.

Grum started by working it out in a book. There were four different sections he would make. There were the all important questions and answers, which would also include any political things. With the election long over with, he likely wouldn’t need that, but it was better to include it just the same. The next section was his building one. His dads always talked about getting in the mindset for something, so that would be that. And since he did that a lot, he could fit in other generic pieces there since most of the hermits were categorized by what they did well. The third would be for more child things. Playtime and stories and having fun. Something like how his brother tended to act. Then, the last one was for all the other stuff. The more unnecessary stuff that he probably wouldn’t ever need, but it was better to have than not have.

With everything written out, Grum read it over a few times to make a few edits, then smiled at his work. The concept was good, now he just needed to implement it all. As a robot, Grum was already sort of divided up into files, but they were sort of all over the place. But now with his plan, he could essentially move them all into their own folders and make things a little more controlled.

Once everything was divided, Grum gave each of the folders their own names to help make things a little less confusing. They were generic names for the most part, something he didn’t pay too much attention to. So, when one of them changed its name just as he stopped looking at them all, it wasn’t something he noticed.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft s7 #grumbot #iskall85 #grian #avian!grian #mumbo jumbo #jrumbot #did!grumbot

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hollyhomburg · 4 years

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Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt.5)

Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok,

Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband, but things start to change for the better when your husband adopts a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon.

Tags: hurt/comfort, panic attacks, past abuse, food-related anxiety, Post-traumatic stress disorder, low self-worth, bonding over trauma, Jimin has self-esteem issues, internalized victim-blaming, mute characters, scent-marking, brief gore, but don't be fooled- this is equal parts angst and fluff

W/c: 13k

Song Rec: Talos - to each his own

SERIES MASTERLIST (5/10 parts complete)

A brief interlude on hybrids pack behaviors, romantic attachment between hybrids, hybrid polyamory:

Though pack forming behavior is the strongest in canine type hybrids- pack behavior (also known as grouping behavior) is seen in every species of hybrid. It doesn’t seem that species has much of an influence on which hybrids will choose to form a pack either- as interspecies groups are incredibly common accounting for around 50% of all hybrid packs.

Though polyamorous behavior might seem strange to human owners; to hybrids, it’s a natural extension of the pack dynamic. It’s what keeps pack bonds strong and reinforces existing dominance structures within the group. That doesn’t mean that love between hybrids within a pack is any different than the love that hybrids might have with their owners or love between humans.

Packs that are decided in juvenile periods of development more mobile and eventually break apart as hybrids age, and then re-solidify in adulthood. In many cases, hybrids without packs tend to be better adoptees as removal of one or more hybrids from a pack can result in many of the same markers associated with removing an imprinted hybrid from it’s imprintee. for that reason, the modal age from 16-22 is the best age to adopt hybrids.

Though one might assume that because of imprinting- that humans would exempt from being apart of hybrid social structure; this is untrue. humans usually seem to be on the more alpha side of the dominance structure, however evidence of this is anecdotal at best and will further statistical significant results in order to be proven.

When packs are settling and a new member is being admitted, this can often result in a period of turmoil in the group dynamic where stereotypically alpha members may act more submissive, or vise versa, where the new pack member is being admitted into the social structure and dominance is questioned.

- Yoongi tilts his head at your words staring Jimin down, before he juts his chin out at him, glancing back at you. “Oh I forgot! you probably haven’t been introduced. Yoongi this is Jimin, Jimin this is Yoongi. If you haven’t guessed Yoongi is a snake hybrid- one of the very few of his kind.”

- Jimin tries to recoup some of his politeness and struggles to smile at the hybrid; Jimin holds his hand out for Yoongi to shake, “it’s nice to meet you.” Yoongi stares at Jimin’s hand for a moment and makes no move to take it. It hangs there for a palpably awkward moment before you grip Jimin’s hand and pull it down to hang in between the two of you. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, not letting go of it.

- Jimin feels flustered as Yoongi lifts the bag of gardening equipment that Jimin had missed by his side and gestures towards a field. You must have some sort of established language because you answer his question. “Yes, we will be doing the veggie garden today Yoon,” Yoongi makes a huffing noise in agreement, and heads down the path. You tug Jimin after him.

- Jimin is perplexed at the lingering silence, even as they reach the far vegetable garden (and Jimin realizes you haven’t let go of his hand with a flush and makes to detangle it or risk feeling like a creep). You’re not trying to feed the whole of the farm with the produce, but that’s certainly an eventual goal of yours.

- It’s large, probably 30 by 50 feet at the very least. You have rows of tomatoes, potatos, carrots, and a half plot of butternut squash and tiny watermelons nothing more that flowers. You start to instruct Jimin on how to tie up The tomato’s that have started to sag with the rain and their continuing growth away from their circular cages. Instructing Jimin how to do the same with the green twine.

- “Gardening is easy,” you tell Jimin, “You have to have some patience, nothing grows overnight.”

- The smell of the wet earth seems to lul the three of you into a hazy silence, He purses his lips, brain running full of information before you turn to him, “got any questions?”

- he has a lot, so many, they spill out. “How many different types of plants do you try to grow? Which one is your favorite? Do you grow any flowers or do you only have your garden for those? What about like seasonings and stuff? those are plants right?”

- Jimin asks a lot of questions, but you seem happy to answer them. Especially once you start harvesting the tomatoes. “You mean you’ve never had one fresh?” Jimin shakes his head “no, most of the food I ate was like, chips and other dried stuff- if he ever bothered to feed me at all” Behind you Yoongi snips through some twine angrily, the older hybrid huffs, shaking his head at that, but still dosent say anything.

- It’s the most communicative that he’s been the whole day, but his displeasure at that is clear. Yours too, Jimin hadn’t even realized he’d said something concerning until he hears your dismayed noise and looks up from what he’s doing to see your jaw tight, that familiar anger in your eyes.

- Before he starts to feel like he’s done something wrong, messed up another job just like he’d done with all the others, you smooth away his worry. “Here, you can try one if you want” you hand him a half dozen tomatoes that are so dark they’re almost purple, then add a few more for good measure until they’re almost spilling out of Jimin’s hands. They’re still warm from the sun Jimin can tell, you give him an encouraging nod “go on- they’re sweet I promise” he slowly lifts one to his lips and bites down.

- The tangy fruitfulness explodes on his tongue- He actually yips, his floppy ears lifting up in his sun hat and his tail wagging so quickly you think he might just take off. By the time he’s done with the first, he’s already reaching for the second, and then looking at the other unripened ones around them hungrily.

- You and Yoongi laugh, though for Yoongi it’s only the twitch of his shoulders and a strange hissing sound as he opens his mouth, gums on display as well as his slightly elongated incisors (and they look sharp, Jimin feels ghoosebumps erupt on his arms). Jimin shyly hides his blush under the brim of his sunhat. “They’re so good! I didn’t think they’d be so tasty- it doesn’t taste anything like ketchup at all!”

- You wince when you think that he’s never had anything other than ketchup to compare what a real tomato tastes like. You and Jimin lapse into a comfortable companionable silence and you don’t say anything when Jimin sneaks a cherry tomato here and there. Though you do hide your smile when he makes a sound of disgust when he decides to try a green one after he’s eaten all of the ripe ones in his area. You catch his cheeks puffed up more than once when you turn to ask him to do something, and your heart melts a little at his chubby cheeks.

- When Yoongi leaves soon after to grab some fresh seedlings for the herb garden you’re quick to explain to Jimin about Yoongi. You want to make sure Jimin is comfortable, but part of the reason why you’d asked him to help in the gardens in the first place is because of how genuinely friendly Jimin is, and how closed off Yoongi is from the rest of the hybrids at the farm.

- Yoongi is the only other hybrid besides Namjoon that stays in the main house with you. You explain to Jimin that he has issues regulating his internal body temperature and need a heater and several heated blankets even in the summer. “Some of the others see this as preferential treatment- when really it’s just what he needs, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t talk to any of them.”

- “Does he talk at all?” Jimin asks, just as his ears start to pick up on returning footsteps of Yoongi back over the field. “Not that I’ve heard” your whisper hushes when Yoongi comes close with the 12 packs of herbs, gestures to Jimin to follow him.

- Jimin’s heard more than one of the teenage hybrids bemoaning the lumps in their mattresses and their envious rants of how comfortable the beds in the big house are. (Apparently, there’s a closed-off second apartment suite in the side part of the house where the hybrids are allowed to spend their heats when they have them, though you’re working on fixing up what once a stable house to make a more private place for that)

- Jimin thinks that the other hybrid obviously hasn’t spent enough of his life sleeping on the floor because Jimin’s bottom bunk below Taehyung’s is more than comfortable enough. But he keeps that particular opinion to himself.

- He’s also sensed how conversation comes to a halt whenever the snake hybrid comes near for the lunch line or to get a tool from the shed or get Namjoon for something (Namjoon always ends up supervising the more technical chores, having a knack for mechanics and putting things together, like the soaker hose system that will enable some of the vegetables to get more consistent watering as the summer tugs on). Jimin dosent know how he didn’t notice the hybrid before now, but he must have been there the first few days, Jimin was probably just too overwhelmed.

- Even Taehyung seems to quiet down in the Yoongi’s presence, whenever he comes to visit Jimin on his break in the gardens or brings them watermelon from the big house for a snack (though when Yoongi hungrily scarfs down a few pieces Jimin does see a small smile play at the edge of Taehyung’s mouth)

- Jimin never catches any sort of aggressive behavior or meanness from Yoongi beyond a roll of his eyes at those who quiet when he walks by, turning to Jimin so that he can see.

- Jimin decides after the second day that he dosent mind yoongi at all. his presence is comforting even next to Jimin in the dirt, help you dig holes for sprouts and seeds. Jimin holding the latter when Yoongi goes up to check on one of the peach trees (you have a full orchard tucked back into the side of the property- accessible only by walking through the woods and Jimin can’t wait for summer when the fruit is ready if fresh peaches taste anything like the canned kind that Jimin is used to- he thinks he’ll like them).

- But Jimin does see Yoongi’s shoulders tense and his hands tighten a little at times, especially when he sees the other hybrids engaging in leisurely time. Jimin sees Yoongi’s yearning look at the dog hybrids throwing a Frisbee in the empty field between the barn and the main house when they call for Jimin to join, or the cat hybrids grooming each other in the shade all cuddled up or the pair of tiger hybrids stretched out nuzzling into the grasses and flowers.

- Jimin figures the hybrid must be lonely, and he can’t blame him, being surrounded by a community like this and somehow set apart from it doesn’t sound nice at all. Sometimes Jimin wants to reach out and tug a stick out of the elders hair- but even you seem to be careful not to be physically affectionate with the snake hybrid, and Jimin has seen you scratch the ears or hug just about every hybrid that lives at the farm.

- Jimin doesn’t realize Yoongi’s caginess might be for a deeper reason until Jimin accidentally touches him.

- It’s a hot day and you’ve just gone inside to get all three of you some sweet tea from the pitcher, and He swears he was just asking for a shovel. Jimin had accidentally touched his arm. His fingers ghosting over the line of dark scales gently. And before jimin had realized his misstep- Yoongi had started shaking so violently.

- His hands clenched and his shoulders quivering- shivering. Looking strange in the heat of midday and the too-bright slant of the noon sun. Jimin has seen Yoongi shiver in the slightest breeze before, but this, this is so much more than that. And it’s hot, but Yoongi doesn’t look like he’s sweating at all which almost seems more dangerous.

- “Hyung? Are you okay? Hyung?” he gets nothing in response- not a small shake of his head or eye contact, just Yoongi’s unfocused gaze, little huffs of breath coming out from his clenched teeth.

- Jimin didn’t think- just ran to get Namjoon, working in the field closest to them, almost falling after he heaves himself over the fence. Namjoon is already running to meet him when he’d heard the younger shouting his name. Looking panicked- Jimin can barely get the words out, “it’s Yoongi he’s- I think he’s having a panic attack or going into shock or-”

- “Take me to him Jimin,” Namjoon says dropping his shovel and easily keeping pace with Jimin as they dash back to the vegetable garden. Namjoon steadying Jimin with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt when his foot hits a divot in the ground and he almost trips.

- They find Yoongi in the same spot, still quivering like a willow in a thunderstorm. At the sound of his name coming from Namjoon’s lips, Yoongi sharply looks up, his eyes focusing after a moment before they go hazy again and he starts to cry in Ernest.

- Namjoon had quietly led Yoongi back inside the house, you set the pitcher on the table hard enough that the dark tea spills over the side when you see Yoongi and namjoon in the doorway, the elder hybrid sagging when he sees you, his knees weak. You say his name, and Yoongi’s eyes focus again, You don’t touch Yoongi. You’re very clear and careful with your intent grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve before you tug him, speaking in a low voice and guiding him up to the second floor and back to his room- probably the direction of the shower to cool off.

- Namjoon puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, smoothing it over the back of his neck. “Jimin- hey pup- it’s fine” Jimin looks up at Namjoon, panicked and imploring, tears in his own eyes and adrenaline in his system for the first time in weeks. Fuck- he’d forgotten how terrible it felt to be afraid “I didn’t mean to trigger him I swear-“

- “Jimin- it’s okay, Yoongi will be fine he just probably needs to sleep and to cool down a little, it probably wasn’t even your fault- we should have known this would happen on such a hot day.”

- Namjoon’s voice is honeyed and soft, expression torn as he looks down at Jimin from the upper step. “This just happens to him Jimin, it’s not your fault.” Namjoon reaches up to thumb away a tear on Jimin's cheek that he hadn’t realized he’d let out.

- it shocks him almost more than the sudden affection does. Enough that he lets out a low whine. Not knowing what to do with his hands until they close around the hem of namjoon’s flannel, jerking the larger hybrid towards Jimin, making his pine scent settle over Jimin like a comforting blanket - strong and alpha and everything Jimin wants to press himself into-

- A cat hybrid bustles through the entryway carrying a crate full of something- headed for the basement refrigerators, and Namjoon straightens, his mask of careful control back in place- (like it always does, Jimin thinks a little sourly) as Jimin steps away and shakes off. Jimin wonders if he had dreamed up the brief heavy look in his face or if it had never been there at all.

- Both of them hear the sound of you upstairs, lingering “Do you want me to stay?” a pause, and then you continue, “okay, I’ll come to check on you later- don’t turn the shower on too cold or else you’ll go into shock okay Yoon?”

- If Jimin did know any better (and he certainly knows better) he would have mistaken Namjoon’s look for the same one he gives you when you reappear at the top of the stairs, Namjoon and Jimin spill onto the landing to make room for you. Namjoon’s hand hovers on your arm, tugging you in close for a moment, he can audibly hear the swallow you let out as Namjoon buries his face in your shoulder, tension locked in every muscle of his body until he exhales.

- “I’ll help you with the garden for the rest of the day just let me grab my hat Jimin.” You say, smiling at him, but Jimin can see the clenched worry in the set of your mouth. Namjoon gives your retreating form a withering look and he tells Jimin under his breath, “make sure she rests when she gets tired okay?” Namjoon asks, to which Jimin nods, his tail swishing between his legs. “I heard that!” you shout from what must be your and Namjoon’s room.

- You and Jimin spend the rest of the day watering the cutting garden, and Jimin finds himself asking you what kind of plants these ones are. They’re large and pretty. A little ruffly and torn looking but beautiful none the less with a strong floral scent that sort of reminds him of how you smell. Jimin likes them, especially the light pink ones that are the same color as the blushing sky.

- “We planted these for a local florist, they’re called peonies, and those are dahlias,” you say, pressing your face into one, the soft petals brushing against your cheeks as you rub your face into one, and Jimin feels his heart flutter like a butterfly. “hang on- you’ve got a little” he brushes away the Pollen on your cheek, “Thanks Minnie”

- Minnie- the butterflies in his heart flutter harder- probably causeing a tornado somewhere elce. He hides his blush by turning away to snip off some of the dying leaves with his scissors, trying to slow the thundering pace of his heart.

- Later that evening when the skin is purple-tinted dark blue, you stand in the cutting garden with Namjoon. Armed with a pair of scissors you snip the most beautiful blooms. Though it will be a few more days till you drive another shipment into town to the florist and you know the few blooms you take won’t be missed.

- “What are you doing?” Namjoon asks, taking the fist-sized blooms from you as you cut more. “Just making someone happy.” You say, And Namjoon just shakes his head. He knows what you’re talking about and who you're picking them for, And it might be for the puppy who always picks a wild cosmos and puts it on the strap of his sun hat, and looks at the two of you like he wants to be affectionate or dote on, but might not know-how.

- “He hasn’t had an easy day has he,” Namjoon says, voice low, you shake your head, because no- Jimin hasn’t and you’re only trying to make him a little happier. He seemed a little too shaken after the incident with Yoongi. a small act of kindness goes a long way.

- He finds them the next day shortly after breakfast, about to change into a pair of shorts so that he can swim in the stream with Taehyung and some of his other bunkmates before work starts. He finds the pink, white, and purple blooms stuffed into a jam jar on the small side table next to his bed. Blushing as his fingers skim over the edge. Unable to handle the sudden rush of hope and affection because he knows- he knows these must be from you- but he can’t imagine why you’d left them for him to find.

- “Someones got a secret admierer~” Taehyung teases with a sing song voice from where he changes- almost tripping as he steps into his red swim trunks. Jimin blushes and tries not to let him see.

- But when he really thinks about it- all he wonders is why. He’d hurt Yoongi yesterday- Someone who seemed special to you. He’d been half-expecting you to punish him at some point- not reward him with these flowers that he gets to look at when he falls asleep. Jimin hugs his pillow to his chest and lets the scent of you (because yes- you do smell like peonies) lul him into sleep.

- Yoongi appears by the middle of the next day to help Jimin twine up the lines of peas. Yoongi looks no worse for wear, if not for the bags under his eyes that seem a little shadowed, the elder doesn’t look like he’s gotten a wink.

- (Later- when you break for lunch- you and Jimin find Yoongi asleep underneath the shade of one of the oak trees that border the vegetable garden, His sun hat pulled low over his face to shield his eyes from the sun, and decide it’s better if you let him be for the rest of the day)

- Jimin is so puzzled by the flowers that he asks Yoongi about them. But the elder pauses, and shakes his head, making an X with his hands. And points to the other side of the garden where you stand, whistling a little and watering some of the carrots (the few that have managed to avoid the hungry bellies of the bunny hybrids)

- Jimin blushes and swats his hands at Yoongi’s small smirk. Saying “oh shut up!” even as Yoongi rolls his eyes, I didn’t say anything he can almost hear the other say.

- Late that night Jimin wonders what Yoongi’s voice sounds like. Then when the days press on, he starts to doubt that he’ll ever find out. But that's fine, they don’t have to talk to be friends. Not when he comes back from a bathroom break with a glass of water and ice for Yoongi only to find that the elder has filled his discarded sunhat to the brim with sweet Tomatoes and green beans.

- Namjoon makes a brief appearance one day to lug in a few bags of mulch in your private garden. Eyeing Jimin and Yoongi in the field, as Jimin points energetically to a small bright blue bird that seems very interested in some of the pees. neither of them makes to scare the bird off or pounce like a cat hybrid might, merely straightening up to watch, still as to not startle it, as it twitters and is joined by another bright blue bird and then two more.

- they fly away, and Jimin shouts excitedly and hops over to the fence, stoops to pick up a tiny bright blue feather. Jimin chats animatedly to Yoongi, who doesn’t respond but holds it up to the sky to compare the color. Both of them leaning around the light to see it, their straw hats bumping into each other.

- Jimin must ask Yoongi because he’s dropping the feather into his hand and tilting his head down so that Yoongi can stick the blue feather into Jimin's hat, right in-between an orange snapdragon and a dried pink clover.

- Namjoon sees the smile tugging at Yoongi’s lips and feels deep satisfaction. Later that night, curled up in your bed with your form propped up on many pillows, Namjoon tells you that you made the right decision to try and push Jimin and Yoongi to be friends. He’s gotten so much better; less twitchy and easy to startle. Both of them have really. They’re good for each other.

- you fall asleep with a soft smile on your face, cheek pillowed against the soft cream bedspread. Namjoon nuzzles his face into your stomach, resting his cheek below your breasts as you sleep on. You’re so used to his movements next to you that you barely startle. “Things are complicated little one,” he murmurs to the bump.

- Pressing a kiss to it through your large sleeping shirt (an old one of his) one of namjoon’s large work-roughened hands smoothing over it. “Only a few months now and you’ll be here. I can’t wait to meet you but I’m also scared.” He shakes a little as he thinks about it- about being a dad, about being parents with you.

- And then he thinks of the others, “We’re both going to need so much help, but I think you’ll like them too.”

- after he showers and before dinner time Jimin helps you and the few other hybrids set up the long table in the largest barn that serves as the dining room for all of the hybrids. As you hand out napkins, More than one of them asks you to get off your feet.

- He spends dinner on Namjoon’s left side and you on the other side and Yoongi next to you. The hybrid files in after everyone has already started at the line for the buffet of food. Keeping his head ducked and making himself as small as possible. Jimin tries to catch his eyes in hello but doesn’t manage too.

- - As April fades into may, Jimin starts to feel disconcerting comfortableness slip under his bones, the day’s aren’t exactly the same, but they do become familiar. And it doesn’t comfort him- it just makes Jimin anxious. the planting comes to an end, and the three of you find yourselves coming in earlier especially once it starts to get hotter. Because of the absence of work, Jimin often finds himself wandering the property without a task.

- The less work there is to do in the gardens, the more he looks to find something that will occupy him- any way to contribute more. He keeps helping during dinner time, to set out the tables and the dishes. And goes back and forth to the house to get anything he might need, unable to sit down until everything is done, even then, he barely gets a few bites in before he’s standing up to help bring the dirty dishes back to the house.

- You notice, Namjoon does too but you both quickly get dragged off to deal with another call that you’ve gotten to pick up another hybrid. And though Jimin might be hungry when he goes to sleep, it’s worth it to stay up to watch your car lights pull back up the long road to the main house. The anxiety in his chest is abated enough to where he doesn’t feel the hunger.

- That might be a bit of a lie, but really, he was hungry for so many years that he doesn’t mind.

- the presence of a new hybrid makes it worse. It’s the first house call you’d made since Jimin- thought you tell him that it hadn’t really been a house call at all. The locals in a beach town had seen a stray here and there lingering in the lagoon and the ocean waters.

- The otter hybrid named Hoseok looks like he’s been living on his own for a number of years. He’s Grubby, his hair overgrown but cut short by your hand in your kitchen the next day. And though he leans away from your hand when you try to touch his head, he eventually relaxes under your calm soothing voice, “That’s a good boy, there we go- now you look all clean and pretty!”

- “You think I’m pretty?” the otter hybrid has the Gaul to ask- shy- his eyes wide, and Jimin’s blood wants to boil. He sits with Yoongi at the prep table, helping the cat hybrids de-stem some of the peas and early spring greens that they’d harvested from the garden, and he almost nicks his hand on the knife he’s using. Next to him, Yoongi makes a noise and gestures at him to hand the knife over, he can see the scolding look on his face, “be more careful”

- He’s bubbly and happy after the first day, his little curved ears cooed at by the cat hybrids in the kitchen. Everyone likes Hoseok, Jimin should like Hoseok- but he can’t help but feel a little jealous at how he immediately fits in. He finds his place the first day when Jimin and Namjoon take him to see the sheep and other farm animals, immediately taking an interest in the thick skeen of bright red wool that Seokjin was hanging out to dry,

- The alpaca hybrid turns bright pink when he first sees Hoseok, all the way from his dye stained hands to the tips of his white ears. Jimin can hear the nervousness in the way he says “you can stay as long as you want- all day- it would be nice to have some company” which is funny because seokjin hates company- likes to be left alone with his radio and his pets.

- “Of course!” the otter says, ears flicking rapidly in happiness in his shiny curly hair, “can you show me how you dye the wool?” Jimin hasn’t ever heard the alpaca hybrid say so many words at once.

- Jimin wishes he didn’t feel jealous.

- But he realizes- as one of the cat hybrids comes to asks him which of the herbs in the garden are which, and finds that he does know how to differentiate between the different kinds- At least he’s earned his place here, for a little while he can pretend that he belongs here. He feels a little dizzy like he used too, unsteady with the pounding in his chest- he gets startled over the littlest things, Yoongi standing up too quick next to him or Taehyung’s loud laugh when he walks into the bunkroom.

- The next stage of his anxiety makes him annoyed, his will power worn down by his own inability to relax. He snaps at one of the bunny hybrids after she drops his clothes after they were freshly laundered, ignoring her apology when she drops it.

- He helps the cat hybrids who work in the kitchen making dinner one night and growls when they keep thanking him for staying “Jesus it’s nothing please drop it” and then immediately feels guilty afterward.

- He can’t be this way, Needs to stop being so easily irritable and taciturn. he remembers what his other bunkmates had said on The first day: Namjoon will throw anyone out who makes problems. Jimin dosent want to leave, can’t help the thudding breathlessness that fills his chest when he thinks about the possibility.

- He knows that Namjoon likes him, it’s the only fact that logically makes sense: that he acts differently around Jimin than the others. But he can’t shake the feeling that he doesn't really know for sure. And once the thought has fit its self into Jimin's head he can’t shake away the lingering feelings of dread- like he’s going to somehow lose his place here and have to leave.

- Jimin starts to gather snacks here and there, shoving them into the drawer of his side table, just in case so he has some when he gets thrown out of the farm.

- He even snaps at Yoongi at one point, when he splashes Jimin's feet accidentally with a hose, he grumbles and heads off towards the cutting garden mumbling about something that he needs to check, sequestering himself there for the rest of the day crumpling dried peony leaves in his fist. He misses the pregnant look that Yoongi shoots you- a worry you return.

- You can tell something’s wrong with Jimin- there isn’t any other reason why he’s suddenly started to withdraw from all of you. No longer lingering as much over the flowers and the fruits of your labor in the garden.

- You and Namjoon talk about it one morning after breakfast. Watching where Jimin’s sat on the grassy hill waiting for you and Yoongi to come out. Usually, he’d wait inside or sit on the steps but he hasn’t lately. You watch from the back of the house, looking out the window at him. Namjoons arms clasped around your middle. “Is it bad to assume that he’ll come to us if he wants to talk?” you ask Namjoon.“There's something wrong and I feel like I’ll just make him feel attacked if I ask”

- Namjoon looks conflicted, his fingers playing with yours, lacing and unlacing- your hands are so small His rough callouses feel good against your skin- rough in a nice way. “I’m worried too- but I think- maybe everything here has gotten to be too much for him, you know how overwhelmed he got in the first few days, maybe he just needs distance.” You nod against his shoulder, and though neither of you likes it. You think it’s what Jimin needs.

- It’s not really, so much of what's bound to happen could have been fixed by a little more care on your part- and you’ll never make the same mistake of leaving Jimin alone again.

- Over the next few days, Jimin can feel himself getting more and more annoyed- but he can’t for the life of him figure out why. He sequesters himself on the other side of the cutting garden trying to find some comfort in the flowers. But the peony rings just won't stay upright, the Dalia stakes too, and the daisy poles, the green garden twine won't stay tight in Jimin’s shaking fingers.

- Nothing feels right, he feels listless, skin feels itchy laying over the bit of pudge, he’s gotten since he came here and started eating 2 square meals and snacks every day. The tensegrity over his bones, never quite able to stretch, out the hot sun on his back. He feels sharp, his mind teetering on the edge of something he dosent understand.

- And like an idiot, he tries to ignore it.

- Jimin gets to his breaking point a day later- when you finally turn in from outside. It’s hot, and Jimin feels overheated and sticky with sweat, but he doesn't feel like he can leave yet and take a shower like he so desperately wants. One of the hybrids gave him a weird look when he was showering mid-day yesterday and he’d like to avoid that again if he can.

- Most of the hybrids wait until after dinner to shower but Jimin didn’t want to deal with vying for hot water. It was just another thing that made him frustrated. And he’s unsure if he’s more frustrated at the hybrid or at himself for making another social miss-step.

- It hits him there in your kitchen the reason why he’s so frustrated. He’s been here for a little over a month now and still- still he dosent understand the rules, the socal rules are still escaping him just as much the physical ones. In his old home- he got a shower whenever time allowed it- here it was seen as lazy to take one before the day’s work was truly done.

- There is sweat dripping down his back even as you get both him and Yoongi a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the table. “Do you want some watermelon?” Jimin shakes his head, unsure why he’s refusing when hunger aches in his belly. But someone else might want the watermelon on the table, someone else might need it so Jimin can’t have it- can’t intrude any more than he already does. He might break another fucking rule- it’s better, isn’t it? to just not take up space and resources when he can avoid it.

- “I could reheat some of the food from this morning if you’d rather have that? or we could make something else before dinner?” you proffer, washing your hands in the sink, running over them with the brush to get the dirt out from under your nails.

- “No you don’t have to” he answers too quickly. You let the silence sit for a moment before you’re turning to Jimin, And he feels something that feels suspiciously like fear spark and itch underneath his skin. You look a little put-out, biting on your lower lip and for some reason it makes him feel even worse. Which doesn’t make any sense-

- Why would you be upset that you can’t help a dumb puppy like Jimin? who can barely garden right let alone do anything like a normal fucking non-damaged hybrid could do. He’s not Namjoon, gorgeous tall and capable Namjoon, or even like Yoongi who doesn't even talk but finds himself more needed than even Jimin- the most replicable hybrid on the farm.

- Why does he feel like he needs to placate you- why don’t you just fucking get it already. You dry your hand on a towel and lean back against the sink. Jimin takes a deep sip of the ice water but finds it makes him feel sick. “What’s wrong?” you proffer gentle and kind.

- “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, he sets the water down too hard and he tries to turn away but you don’t let him, grabbing his wrist. “Jimin,” you say, and he doesn’t know if it’s a plead or a command from you. Maybe if you did command him Jimin would understand better, would know what you wanted better than all of this- all of this assuming that drives him crazy.

- He rolls his wrist out of your grip, suddenly whirling around, his voice a growl. “Would you just leave it- fuck- I’m fine,” Jimin can hear dimly, the footsteps above which must be Yoongi. Pausing and then rushing when he hears Jimin’s elevated voice.

- You pause for a moment, picking your words carefully “Jimin, you don’t seem okay- I know something’s been bothering you. Come talk to me about it, tell me about it,” Jimin’s scoff feels acrid in his lungs. “No thanks, don’t want to feel like more of a burden than I already am.”

- You recoil- shocked “Jimin what? you really think that? you’re not at all! please don’t think that, don’t think that you’re a burden! We love you- we care about you- we’re just worried”

- Jimin shakes his head, angry, he’s not even sure why he’s fucking angry, “You don’t love me” Maybe it’s the frustration, the frustration at all the heavy looks and all the kindness- none of which Jimin knows how to interpret or how to decipher.

- He dosent know why he said it- even though deep down he’s sure it’s true. He knows you love him. And suddenly the words are spilling out of him along with all of the fear and anxiety and petty anger. Even though deep down Jimin knows that he really doesn’t have anything to be angry about

- “I hate when you walk on eggshells like I’m going to go fucking awol because I can’t fucking adjust to living like this- and then go on treating me with so much affection like I fucking deserve it.”

- “Jimin- you’re not- we don’t walk on eggshells around you because we want to keep you far away, we do it because we want you to feel comfortable, we don’t want to force anything on you-”

- “Force me to do what? Force me to help out even if not doing so would make me a freeloader, but if I help too much then- it sets me apart and I just don’t fit in- I’m not even like apart of everything here- when I’m fucking suffocating under what no one says- no one tells me. So what? What can you possibly say that will help? That won’t hurt?”

- For once, you fall silent. Your hands drop, and Jimin feels the guilt swell up, strengthening to a crescendo before he falls falls falls and has nothing but the anger to comfort him, even as tears cloud his vision.

- “You treat me like this- like I’m fucking worth anything at all and it drives me crazy- I’m not like you- You ask me to confide in you but you wouldn’t fucking understand if I tried- I’m the fucking dregs of what anyone wants and I’m never going to be like the others- I’ve already fallen too far behind and you might as well give up-”

- “Jimin” its Namjoon at the door, his voice full of caution, not anger- Jimin expects anger but when he looks up all he sees in Namjoon biting his lower lip and looking like he’s about to cry. He reaches out to try and touch him but Jimin flinches back, namjoon freezes, eyes wide and worried. Jimin’s tail drops low, and he pushes past Namjoon without a second thought, leaving you there- you let out a strangled aborted noise in your throat.

- His beat-up second-hand shoes thud against the wooden steps and the adrenaline is still firing in his system telling him to get away from you. Namjoon calls his name and he breaks out into a run across the field, his ankles almost failing when he stumbles in some of the holes. The tears in his eyes burning as he runs and runs and runs.

- I’m never going to be like them, I’m too damaged for a life like this, I’m never going to understand how to function because- because I wasn’t raised like them. And it’s too late to learn- it’s too late for the life he wants- even though he never wanted it until they showed him what life could be like.

- Jimin feels terribly alone.

- Taehyung finally finds Jimin in the paddocks, deep in the barn with a baby lamb in his lap. It’s little soft pink and white body sitting in Jimin’s lap. Docile at his pets even as the hybrid sniffles, nibbling cutely at his fingers. He puts a hand on Namjoon’s arm, wordlessly telling him to stay behind with Seokjin. “Thanks for getting us Jin” Jimin hears him whisper. Even if he dosent sit up or stand to acknowledge his bunkmate's presence.

- “That looks a little nasty,” Taehyung says, gesturing at Jimin’s hand. He’d fallen on his mad run, his knuckles grazing the ground. And they’re a little bloody and dirty. It’s not that bad though- Jimin has felt worse pain.

- “You want to talk about it yet?”

- “No,” Jimin says too quickly, worried that Taehyung would leave and also- that he would stay. “But I think I should?” The little lamb seems to tire of Jimin’s restless pets and migrates over to Taehyungs lap. “Where were you before you came here Tae?” in all his weeks at the farm Jimin has never asked Taehyung about his own origin story. But the hybrid dosent look surprised or unwilling. The lamb lets out a little bleat.

- “You know the story probably, its the same one a lot of us rare breeds have- rich family- bought me as a present for their youngest son- never knew my parents, you know- the classic hybrid trifecta of angst”

- “I didn’t know my parents either,” they shift to sit back against the wall of the barn. “How did you end up here?”

- “He wasn’t always violent, but by the time his parents realized it had gotten out of hand, they barely cared he was hurting me only that I bit him back- they didn’t tolerate it and sold me to a circus.” Taehyung gets a faraway look in his eyes.

-“I refused to perform, and they put me out in the sun without food or water until I agreed, I escaped within the first week, they didn’t realize that the chain was rusty enough for a hybrid to break.” Tae’s softness has always been disarming, but Jimin has also seen the bear hybrid lift 50-pound bags of flour like they weighed nothing.

- Jimin thinks about his next words carefully, “Do you ever, think it would have been better if you stayed? sometimes I think I deserved it.” Taehyung’s inhale is jagged- “No- Jimin- you shouldn’t- you didn’t deserve what you got I promise you”

- Jimin looks down and tries not to feel upset because- he feels like he deserved it even if Taehyung is telling him he didn’t. The bear hybrid has never lied to him and maybe, just maybe Jimin didn't- maybe he really hadn’t deserved it.

- “I don’t miss it not really- but- sometimes I think- my body does or maybe my head? It’s hard to explain.” Jimin knows Taehyung is trying. Tae puts his arm around Jimin’s shoulder, his wide hands rubbing up and down Jimin’s spine. Jimin tucks his face close to his knees and lets Tae touch him. The repetitive pets feel nice.

- “Why do I feel so scared Tae? Why is everything so hard? why do I feel like I don’t deserve anything good? There are so many things that I don’t understand or don’t know- so many things I never even knew I didn’t know.”

- “I think I might know someone who understands how you’re feeling Minnie.”

- Jimin tries to turn away when Taehyung leads him up to the front porch where you sit with Yoongi, but his hand is strong on the back of Jimin’s neck. Jimin is a little startled to see Yoongi’s hand withdraw from yours quickly. “It’s okay Yoongi, wanna give us a minute?” you say, standing along with him as Jimin rises on the steps, hands clenched by his side.

- Neither of you talks, Jimin can’t look up to meet your eyes. Taehyung and Yoongi sigh at the same time. “I left some of my beekeeping gear down at the bottom of the hill- if you help me carry it up I’ll give you some honey?” Yoongi scoffs but shows a small smile as Tae turns and starts off with him down the hill. Yoongi sends Jimin a single pitying glance before he does.

- “I think the squash is probably done cooking by now, Come inside.” The ground floor of the farmhouse is empty but filled with a mild sweet scent. All of the other vegetables are already set out, The carrot, celery, And onion already chopped. It doesn't look like there's enough to feed the whole farm and Jimin is about to ask when you clarify. “I thought it would be better if we all ate together tonight, and this soup is a little specialty of mine.”

- You go to the cellar door and opening it. “Go downstairs, look at the floor- and tell me what you see.” Jimin listens- he’s always been good at following instructions.

- The cellar smells musty and cold he’s careful not to trip over the extension cords that wind down the stairs, the industrial-sized freezers and refrigerators hum and buzz. There is a barely-there stain in the concrete, rust-colored, fading like someone had tried to wash it away but hadn’t been able to it.

- “Why is there a bloodstain on your floor?” Jimin says as he comes up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're just stirring vegetables in the pan. “iI’s mine,” you say, turning the heat down and covering it. Jimin's breath catches. You start fiddling with the other burner, “You’re not the only one who's been through some shit Jimin,”

-“Who hurt you- when.” Yimin pulls out a place for you at the prep table and you make a noise when you see his bloody hand, “my late husband,” Jimin's eyes hover on your stomach for a second before you flinch, turning away to retrieve the first aid kit from below the sink.

- “Why did he hurt you?” Jimin asks as you pull his hand close to you to rest on the table, carefully and gently dabbing at the broken skin with a cool cloth to clear away the dirt. You’re so gentle that It barely stings. A lock of hair falls in front of your face, and Jimin reaches across the table to tuck it behind your ear.

- “Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe some people are made rotten- maybe it’s easier to hurt others than hurt- but regardless- I hate him- hated him- But I also loved him at one point. And I think- until Namjoon came- I honestly was dependent on his approval, did you feel dependent on your old owner?”

- “Every day. I don’t miss him- I hate him too- but” Jimin’s hands are shaking when he looks down at them. ou steady them a little- rubbing ointment into the scrapes “I think that I miss understanding everything that was going to happen, knowing what my purpose was.”

- Your face is shadowed and dark as you keep working- you might not be able to fix Jimin’s mind- but you can help this- the wounds on his body that ache in time with the pulse of his heart. “People like us- we miss abuse because we get dependent on it- because it ran your life and now- you can’t make any choices without-”

- “Without thinking you’re making the wrong one because choices have consequences and now they don’t- not really- not in the same way. It was like that for you too?” you nod, starting putting bandaids across Jimin’s knuckles. The onions in the pan smell good and start to sizzle. Jimin is almost breathless when he asks- cuz now you’ve helped him put it together he needs to know “How did you get out- how did you learn?”

-“Namjoon was really patient with me, he gave me what I needed without letting me fall back into the cycle- I’m lucky to have him.” We’re lucky to have you, he wants to say, he’s never heard of a human who had been through the kind of abuse that hybrids do. But he thinks that maybe it would be wrong to say especially after the words he’d shouted at you. He winces, and you look up from his hand worried you’d hurt him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier- you didn’t deserve it.”

- You shrug, “We’ve been expecting you to be okay- and I’m sorry- I should have been more communicative. It’s kinda been a hard transition for you and I should have been there to help more.”

- “Why does doing what I want not feel free all the time? Why do the choices make me feel like im suffocating?”

- “Because if you don’t have a choice- you can’t make a wrong move.

- “Did you know- neither Namjoon or I can go into that basement without having a panic attack? There are other things too- like if something comes at his face too quick he growls- even if it's me. The smell of motor oil makes him feel sick and I still have nightmares- We’re still learning. The people we love don’t negate our trauma, but it helps at least when they try to understand it with us.”

- You set the last bandaid over his nuckles, and he reaches out to grasp at yours and give it a squeeze. You take his hand and lift it to your mouth all of the scrapes covered. You press a kiss to each bandaid and Jimin feels like he’s going to cry for a whole different reason- he feels so undeserving of your care and of your affection, especially after today.

- “I want to help you Jimin- I care about you too much not to try and make you happy,” Jimin can’t argue- not like he did before when he was too anxious not to perceive anything close to him as an attack. “What do you want? There are no wrong answers”

-“I want-” before he can answer, Namjoon and Yoongi walk through the door, the younger hybrid prattling to yoongi about the restorations currenly underway at once of the little chicken coops on the sothern edge- and then he looks back at you- your face a little tired, but truly truly imploring, Jimin feels a strange kind of acrid black hope lurch in his belly.

- Both of them smiling softly, Namjoon saying something and Yoongi nodding while makeing a so-so motion with his hands. When Namjoon looks up and sees the two of you sat on the kitchen table his tail wags and then falls still, then wags again when he sees both you and Jimin sitting close. Your hands still tightly clasped in each other.

- “I want to help you cook- can you show me how you make the soup?” Jimin lies. But you don’t catch it, even as you smile at him, and reach your hand up to touch his ears. Pull gentle scratches over them. “That we can definitely do,” you say. Namjoon and Yoongi don’t look upset with Jimin when they come close, Yoongi opening up the pan on the burner and sniffing the air. making a pleased noise in the back of his throat, “squash soup” you clarify and Yoongi smiles.

- Namjoon lifts Jimin’s hand up for inspection, “You okay?” Namjoon asks, his tail hanging low, he doesn't like to see the younger hurt- doesn't like the shyness lingering. “No,” Jimin says quietly, “But I will be,”

- Namjoon pulls him up with a whine, scent-marking along Jimin's shoulder- the other hybrid freezes and then whines when Namjoon’s scent puffs up fanning out to comfort Jimin. The other hybrid is so much larger than him, he makes Jimin feel so small. Namjoon’s hands on both of his shoulders holding him still. Jimin is breathless even after Namjoon pulls away with a faint blush on his cheeks- because Jimin- Jimin smells like Namjoon now.

- Every hybrid is going to know what Namjoon did that when he walks out. And it’s intimate- so intimate- because hybrids the only scent mark each other when they- Jimin's breath catches in his throat- when they belong to the same pack.

- That means Namjoon wants Jimin to belong here.

- “Can I-” Jimin knows his face is bright red, “Do me?” Namjoon proffers, and though Namjoon has to stoop for Jimin to rub his cheek all over Namjoon he does and looks happy, his dimples poking out.

- “What do I smell like?” Jimin asks, because honestly- he’s never known- never had another hybrid scent mark him. “Something flowery but more like- citrusy?” Namjoon says, taking in a deep breath at Jimin’s throat that makes a shiver run down his spine.

- Yoongi makes a noise and holds out a lemon- tapping it for a moment and nodding sagely, The visual makes you all giggle. You smile too, “What do I smell like?”

- “Flowers,” Namjoon says instantly, at the same time Jimin says, “Peonies... and cream?” Namjoon blushes- gesturing at your stomach, “that wasn’t there before- yeah” his dimples are so pronounced when he absently rubs a hand over your bump, You can't resist getting up on your tippy-toes to peck them.

- Jimin learns that even though he had asked you to teach him how to make butternut squash soup, that didn’t mean you were going to let him do any of the work involved. You explain how to do everything sure- but Jimin is banished to sit at the table with namjoon and watch.

- You and Yoongi cook, dancing around each other in a dance that seems almost choreographed. You must cook together often because Yoongi seems to anticipate your movement, handing you a wooden spoon to stir the vegetables.

- Namjoon pulls him back to lean against his chest facing where you cook, Namjoon’s back up against the wall the older hybrid combing his hands through Jimin's hair. Jimin would think it was weird had he not seen countless other hybrids cuddle the same),

- Yoongi brings Jimin spoonfuls which he presses to Jimin's lips and makes him taste. And Jimin wants to yip when the savory tang of the soup hits his tongue, makes a happy grumble as his eyes flutter closed. “Wait- that's so good- how is it so good?” you look happy at his praise.

- When it’s finished, the four of you eat out on the porch. Jimin licks his bowl clean, he catches Yoongi watching him, a small satisfied smile on his mouth, he even gets up and gives Jimin seconds. The warm soup fills his belly like liquid comfort. and after so many bowls he ends up listing to the side, nose pressed to the hard part of your shoulder, lulled further to sleep by the rub of your fingers up and down his skull.

-The kitchen starts to buzz with the noise of dinner preparations but jimin is full and happy, his sun-warmed skin soothed by the dropping temperature. You don't say anything when he starts to cry, his face hidden in your shirt, you just keep running your fingers through his hair scratching his ears. Namjoon and yoongi get up and go upstairs, leaving the two of you to sit side by side.

- No one hears the words you whisper into Jimin's ear, “You’re not broken beyond repair Minnie, help me- help me fix you- tell me what I can do to make things easier for you.”

- Jimin's eyes are half-lidded when he opens them, “Can you just- tell me things? Not order me- I’m not asking for you to like- control me- but I think if you just all told me what you want it would be better- take out the guesswork you know?”

- Jimin is so sleepy Namjoon ends up having to carry him back down to the bunks. his strong hands gripping Jimin under his thighs The smaller hybrid on his back, Jimin’s hands around Namjoon's neck. The younger hybrid nuzzling his nose into Namjoon's shoulder to get more of the pine scent on himself. They pause on the steps. The last thing Jimin is aware of is a puff of your scent and soft lips on his hairline. He wakes up in his bed the next day, his pillows smelling like Namjoon. His bunkmates give him strange looks.

- The next few days are better, and slowly but surely, the anxiety he’d felt dissipates. You give Jimin little moments to latch onto. the Stability of clearly communicated consent. You say “sit next to me” when dinner comes. Yoongi and Tae across from you at the table. “It makes me feel better the more you eat- I like seeing you full and chubby Minnie”

- The other hybrids help too- so you must have told them. Namjoon brings Jimin one of his old button-downs, a thick flannel that smells like the other hybrid. “This is too small on me now- so here- it’s yours.”

“Enjoying your courting gifts? Taehyung teases after he sees Jimin wearing it, making the younger splutter, “this? a courting gift?” Tae shrugs, “that's the only reason why he would give you something of his to wear- and both of us know it the alpha of a pack that initiates the courting.”

- The clearly communicated wants and desires do wonders for his level of comfort. Even Yoongi tries- writes down what he wants on a napkin at dinnertime. I want to help you in your garden today. No offering for Jimin to decline, no wiggling out of it. And slowly, Jimin finds himself becomes more comfortable with his place here.

- You try to keep the satisfied smile off your face when one day you ask Jimin to come up to the house- cuz it’s just too hot today- and he’s struggling to put together a trellis, “one second, I want to finish this before dinner” and he sits up with a jolt- realizing- he’d actually articulated his own wants for once, he’d asserted his own wants into a conversation instead of just- reacting to everyone else's.

- Your satisfied smile warms his heart too, you notice the slow change. jimin beginning to heal. “no- I don’t need that it’s okay” “yes you do jimin just take the fancy soap,”

- “Are you sure it’s okay if i-” “Yes it is I promise.”

- The change is slow but one day, He gets to the point where he can say “Tae and I are going to go try and find some berry patches down by the river so I’m going to meet him after we get done with the ground cherries” without fear

- Jimin takes a bucket and he brings back a quart of wild blueberries. You make blueberry muffins with them while Tae, Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin sit at the prep table. Yoongi carefully plucks thorns out of Taehyungs hand as Namjoon tells Jimin that even though Yoongi can cook- you’re the only one in the house that can bake. He even gets a pat on the head for his work and a soft “good boy” from you, and it makes Jimin's heart feel light and blooming like a flower.

- The afternoons stop making him anxious, and after the first few days, he’s inclined to relax rather than go in search of more work. He goes to visit Taehyung by the bee hutches, hovering a few meters away as Taehyung brings him a spoonful of honey. Or if he dosent feel like doing anything at all- he plays cards with you and Yoongi on your back porch, Namjoon too- if he finds out that you’ve all turned in for the day.

- Yoongi always wins during the afternoon card games. Whether it is poker or rummy the snake hybrid comes out on top- even when it’s something like Uno, and the elder will just shuffle the cards again for another round and smile a little, more than he does ever. And the three of you will shout and grumble in dismay when he shows his winning hand, round after round until dinner preparations start to pick up enough for someone to need help.

- One afternoon, you look so sweet in your loose taupe frock, the stretchy material pulled over your belly and your hair free from its fixings spilling over your shoulder Jimin sees the way that Namjoon has his palm placed against your round stomach and can’t stop himself from asking.

- “Can I?” Jimin asks, and you look up from your hand of cards and place them on the table before taking Jimin’s in yours, and oh, your baby bump is warm and soft and surprisingly more solid then Jimin expected. He wasn’t expecting to immediately feel like he was going to burst into tears, but he feels an incredible well of fondness well up in him. It must have something to do with the way that your peony and cream scent seems to tug at his heart like strings on a marionette.

- He wants to lean forward and press a kiss there- or nuzzle it and scent mark it the way he knows Namjoon does- but even that feels like too much. You must know what Jimin is wanting as you look down at him, smiling a little even as he blushes.

- Little does Jimin know that this is nothing particularly new to you, every time Namjoon gets a whiff of your pregnancy hormones- he’s gotten simultaneously possessive and cloudy eyed with protectiveness. Yoongi seems to be the only one who doesn’t have that reaction. But you bet he’s spared that particular embarrassment by his admittedly more human sense of smell.

- The rest of them don’t notice Jimin’s wave of emotions, or at least they pretend to be interested enough in the third round of hearts that you’ve played this evening. Though Jimin does catch a small smile on Namjoon’s face when Jimin scoots closer. Reluctant to let go now that he’s felt the soft pleasure of feeling your baby bump.

- The endorphin response alone has his voice husky, he’s a goner the second you lift your hand up and rub his ears, letting out a whine and putting his cards away- much more interested in begging affection off of you now.

- “How far along are you?” “Around 5 months now I think- nearly 6 now that I think about it.”

- The four of you decide to eat dinner out on the patio instead of joining the others in the barn. The older cat hybrid sees how slumped you are and how you’re near to sleeping on Namjoon’s shoulder, and brings the four of you out dinner plates, much to the thanks of Namjoon and Jimin, Yoongi nods gratefully when she hands over his plate.

- By the time Jimin reluctantly so steers his way back towards the barns, the common room lights have finally turned out. A lone fox hybrid sleeps on the couch in the common room, her head tipped back and the light from the tv blue across her face.

- He goes up to his bunk bed, the other hybrids sleeping soundly around him, perplexed to find his bed disturbed, his pillow gone and his blanket missing from his bed. He figured someone might not have wanted to get up to grab one from the linen closet downstairs, but when he goes down to the ground floor he finds it empty, not uncommon on a cold night like tonight. Jimin’s bare feet are already feeling the brunt of the cold stones, and the cozy but still slightly drafty barn.

- He goes up and notices that the hybrid that shares the bunk to the left is the one that’s taken his blanket. “Hey give it back” Jimin hisses hushed, fighting with the half-asleep hybrid whose eyes still haven’t opened, he’s clutching the extra warmth to his chest. “I need that to sleep” the dog hybrid on the bunk above them grumble and turn over in his sleep.

- Jimin puts a hand on his shoulder to really wake him, The hybrid, a wolf hybrid named Minhyung, wakes up with a start, arms already swinging, his foot kicks out at Jimin’s stomach. The sudden violent reaction tosses him onto the floor with a thump, waking those in the vicinity.

- Jimin tries not to let the stinging feeling invade too much even as his ass goes numb, and he flushes with anger, especially when one of the others whose woken by the brief scramble laughs at Jimin. Minhyung does too, looking barely contrite with half his hair messy and a little bit of drool on his cheek.

- Minhyung smiles showing his teeth. “Thought you’d be warming up that snake boy by now. Have fun sleeping in the cold.” He says, and turns to his side, ignoring Jimin. Jimin tries not to feel ashamed or rejected or any of the other nasty emotions singing in his chest at the indifference of the other hybrids in his bunk.

- A glance at Taehyung’s bunk, the only one who might come to his aid, confirms both that the bear hybrid was the only one without an extra blanket and is also still asleep.

- Jimin doesn’t even stop to think, he just knows that he doesn’t want to stay here on the bed, feeling cold and alone and like everyone in that room hates him. Feeling his head spinning, and his heart thudding erratically, he leaves the bunkroom and the barn and stops just outside. The cold is worse here and he tugs his fluffy cardigan around his shoulders before he starts walking slowly up the hill to the main house.

- The lights on the ground floor are all but turned off, but the glowing he can see in the living space foretells that of a television. He deliberates on the front porch for a second, wondering If he should even bother, momentarily worried that you’ll keep him out in the cold too.

-But he shivers and hopes beyond hope that you won't. And when he knocks on the door it's only a few seconds before he can hear someone get up. It’s not nearly enough time for him to think of a good excuse as to why he can’t sleep in his own bunk.

- It’s Yoongi that answers, bundled up in a pair of very warm flannel pajamas and a sweater, his hair curling against the nape of his neck from a fresh shower. The bright green tartan does wonders for Yoongi’s scales, making the ones on the back of his neck look brilliant even in the half-light of the porch. He’s a little wide-eyed and taken aback by Jimin’s presence, but he waits for Jimin to speak.

- “The others- they-” Jimin’s words fail him at the worse time, throat closing off into a whine, his ears pressed into his skull. “Is it okay if I sleep up here tonight?” Yoongi’s eyes are dark and half-lidded, but he steps aside instantly nonetheless. Jimin slips into the warmth of the house closing the door behind him.

- There is an old fashion black and white movie playing on the tv but Yoongi clicks it off and goes into the ground floor bathroom. Making a noise for Jimin to follow, he rummages around in a drawer and pulls out a toothbrush and a washcloth for Jimin to use to wash his face and leaves Jimin to wash up in peace. And comes back a few minutes later lugging a blanket with too many cords to seem logical.

- Jimin realizes what it is when Yoongi fluffs it out on the couch and a wave of Yoongi’s scent- like the crackle of heat and something that kind of smells a lot like marshmallows fluffs towards him- Yoongi’s scent. Taehyung’s words about courting gifts suddenly ring in his ears.

- “Yoongi, I can’t take one of your heated blankets on the coldest night of the season” Jimin protests. But Yoongi just shakes his head, putting his hand on his chest while keeping eye contact with Jimin meaningfully, then pushing his palm to the floor. jimin takes it to mean “I don’t need it.”

- Yoongi ignores Jimin’s protests and stoops to plug it into a surge protector anyway. The couch, which already has a pillow on it, looks even more inviting now.

- Jimin feels like a broken record uttering thank you after thank you even as Yoongi heads towards the landing, and up to where his room must be in the house, after nodding what must have been a goodnight at Jimin.

- The couch is so comfortable that jimin gets cozy quickly (even if it is a little squishy). His heart feels a little heavy with the events of the day. He’s sure you’ll ask in the morning, and probably Namjoon too. He falls asleep easily, sighing into the warmth of the blanket as it heats up.

- A story above, in the master bathroom, you’re pressing giggles and kisses into Namjoon’s bare chest. “Oh my god - we have to sleep it’s so late,” you already can tell waking up tomorrow at the crack of dawn is going to be brutal, but you can’t help it, Namjoon looks so soft and fluffy. He’s punch drunk and smiley with his hair ruffled at the back from the countless times you’ve tugged on it or ran your fingers through it in the past few hours.

- He nuzzles into your shoulder and hums. A strong arm clung over your waist that draws circles over the spot where your baby bump meets your hip. He pulls you snug against him, always closer- as close as he can physically get you.

- Namjoon whines, he never wants to sleep when it’s you in his bed- or more correctly- him in yours. Though it’s been months since he even thought about sleeping in his old room downstairs, and months since it was unoccupied by Yoongi.

- The only good thing about going to sleep is that he gets to wake up to you. The thought always has him going to sleep like a kid on Christmas, almost too excited to sleep at all. What a dichotomy love was, making you soothed and calm and at the same time too elated to dream at all.

- You try to get out of bed, prompting immediate grabby hands and a low whine that tapers off into a growl from his throat. You're immune to his display of possessiveness, and it only makes him melt into the sheets further. “Oh you big puppy,” you tease happily in response to his whines, Tying your fluffy pink robe around your waist concealing your nakedness as you head downstairs for a glass of water and leave the door open.

- Namjoon whines again with no one to hear and burrows into the warmth you left, getting impatient pretty quickly, kicking his feet a little when he presses his nose to your pillow and gets a particularly strong wif of your scent. his tail thwacking against the covers.

- The ground floor is dark, almost dark enough that you don’t see Jimin asleep on your couch. The blanket all but making him blend in. You only see him when you are already on the way back.

- You’re not exactly surprised to see him asleep on your couch as he hadn’t exactly looked like he wanted to leave earlier but there is something about the tense pull of his eyebrows that tell you there must be some deeper reason why he’s here. Oh well, you’ll find out in the morning, for now, you’ll let him sleep.

- The whining behind you and the sheer familiarity for Namjoon’s body is the thing alone that keeps you from being startled when his arms snake around your waist to rest on your baby bump. Namjoon stills for a second when he sees the figure on the couch. Jimin’s blonde curls puffed against the pillow, his thick lips pouting in his sleep.

- “Yoongi must have let him in.” Namjoon murmurs over your shoulder into your ear, hushed so as to not wake him, you make a noise in the back of your throat in agreement taking in the delicacy’s of Jimin’s face as he sleeps, unable to resist running the back of your hand softly over the top of his cheekbones.

- They’re so much fuller than they used to be you notice appreciatively. Brushing over his puckered lips, finally pushing back the blonde curls at the top of his head and running through his hair a little. Jimin tilts his face up, his cheeks flushed, Plush lips parting in a sigh as he chases your hand, needy for affection even in sleep. His ears twitching in the direction of your movement.

- “He’s so cute” you murmur. Namjoon stifles his laugh in your shoulders. “Yes” he agrees, his hands tugging on your waist, “now stop ogling the pretty pup and come to bed with me.” You grumble something like “you’re ogling too” but let Namjoon pull you back upstairs.

- On the couch, Jimin sleepily opens his eyes to the darkroom, hearing the thud of your retreating footsteps on the creaking steps. unsure of what he just heard was a dream or reality, the tide of sleep quickly pulling him down. The memory of the moment to be lost in his dreams by the next morning.

- When the four of you wake in the morning, it’s too a muffled shriek on your front doorstep. One moment namjoon is asleep curled around you and the next he’s vaulting down the stairs in only his pajama bottoms. Hauling opens the front door, splattering blood everywhere before Jimin can do more than stir and rub at his eyes.

- “Jesus what the fuck!” Jimin cries, rushing to the door while Namjoon blinks, Still half asleep and barely awake. One of the cat hybrids that usually come to cook has fallen back against the steps, disgust roiling in her face, hand against her heart in shock. “I promise it wasn’t me I just- I just was gonna get breakfast early and I came up and it was already there”

- Namjoon turns to the door, touching his face where the blood sticks smearing it against his cheek. Yoongi skitters down the stairs after Namjoon, socked feet sliding on the floor.

- “Fuck-” Namjoon growls out- turning to Yoongi, “don’t- Yoongi you shouldn’t-” Yoongi makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, goes pail, and Jimin makes the split-second decision, turning to him to block his view and asking him to go get a rag from the bathroom to wipe the blood off of Namjoon’s face. Anything to get him away from this.

- You're standing bleary-eyed at the top of the stairs in your Pajamas, “What is it Joon? what's wrong?” None of them knows how to say it, or what to say.

- Its blood has dripped down the blue chipped paint of the door and pooled on the porch beneath- its scales black and pearly just like Yoongi’s.

- On your front door, a dead snake hangs, gutted. It’s head nailed to the wood.

My Kofi

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chipper9906 · 3 years

Text

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.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

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.

#sylki #pro sylki #sylki fanfic #sylki fanfiction #loki/sylvie #lovedagger #lovie

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