#[ and sylvie is still feeling the after effects of it ]

[sylvctica]

“Why is everyone losing their minds this time? …what did you do?”

”Nothing!” They bristled up, another flush of colour tinging the tips of their ears—but they eventually deflated and sagged their shoulders down, arms crossing over their own chest.

“Xiao just ended up walking in at a time I was touching Zhongli’s chest over his clothes—please don’t laugh—I was just being an ass to him, nothing more or serious that I wouldn’t want anyone seeing. And Xiao ended up getting embarrassed and feeling like he stumbled over something and is at fault for not being more careful and just…”

A hand idly waved as they spoke, eyes glanced off to the side and lips pursed. “I dunno. He wasn’t at fault for anything. Guess it kinda blew up for some reason.”

[fish189]

Prince Regent

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Whore!Reader

Summary: after Aemond became prince regent, his days and night were filled with ruling the Realm and preparing for the war. For a full three months, he had no time to visit his favourite whore: you. And when he's finally too pent up to think, he makes his way to the streets of Silk.

Warnings: Aemond is mean when he's jealous; and he is, reader is a whore who works in a brothel, 'I missed you'/'you're mine' PiV, fingering, making out, cumming inside (yap use protection), mentions of blowjob. NOT proofread! MDNI

2.2K

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Aemond would do anything to become prince regent. He deserved the title of king more than his drunken fool of a brother ever did.

And he had done everything.

After burning his brother and his dragon, he had celebrated in silence. But he also knew that at that moment, the work was finally starting.

And it was a lot of work.

Days on end, early morning to very late nights. Aemond worked and strategised, but the lingering threat of the Blacks still got closer and closer. And after three moons of nonstop working, he knew he needed a break.

It was the middle of the night, and he had put on a heavy black cloak to hide his identity. He snuck through the hidden passages of the Red Keep until he made his way outside, moving towards the streets of silk. He slipped through the large wooden doors, the heavy, wanton atmosphere of the establishment almost overwhelming him. 

Too long. It had been too long since he’d been here.

He saw the woman at the front of the establishment, her clever eyes seeing who he was immediately, even if he was hidden underneath her cloak.

“The prince regent himself,” she purred lowly, earning herself a glare from the prince. “I’m assuming the same as always?”

Aemond didn't even say anything, simply slid the pouch of coins over the wooden tabletop. The woman smiled, counting the coins before pointing him to his usual chamber.

“She’ll be waiting…” the lady said, laughing as he ascended the stairs.

He hated it. Aemond had forgotten the awful feelings this establishment awoke in him. The woman - Sylvi - acted like she knew every single little thing about him. The sounds he heard as he walked up the stairs towards the chamber made his stomach churn. Fake high-pitched moans from whores, the awful grunting of the patrons. He sped his pace up, the door of the chamber creaking as he opened it. He closed it quickly, nearly slamming it. And he made the person inside jump at the sudden noise.

You quickly turned, gasping when you saw him. 

Aemond. Your Aemond.

You hadn't seen him in moons, knowing his new role as prince regent would probably keep him very busy. You used to see him once a week, sometimes even twice. And suddenly, he had stopped appearing.

“Where have you been?”

If anyone else had taken that tone with the prince regent, Aemond would have them beheaded. But this was you.

A whore, yes, but you were his favourite one.

He stayed silent, and you used the moment to take in his appearance. He was wearing his eyepatch, as usual, but this time you noticed the dark circle under his one good eye first. He looked exhausted. Drained. You had never seen him like this.

“I have been busy,” he just said, his voice rough, “with the Realm. The war.”

You watched as he removed his cloak, revealing the simple breeches and tunic underneath. His form was imposing as ever, your eyes following his movements when he rolled up his sleeves. 

Aemond, in return, stared back at you.

You hadn’t changed these past moons, yet still looked different. You were wearing more expensive silks. Blue and see-through. His jaw clenched, wondering if you had found a new patron in the time he was gone, perhaps even one who paid more. 

You flushed under his intense gaze, feeling your skin heat up. You wondered if you still had that effect on him, to be able to arouse him just with your looks alone.

“You look… well,” he spoke. “And you’re wearing silk. How expensive.”

He walked further into the room, facing away from you to hide the scowl that had formed on his face. You were a whore, he reminded himself. You did this in order to make a living, to have a place to call your home. 

But still.

Your eyes narrowed at his tone, noticing the way he was looking at you with such a possessive look. 

“Yes,” you just said, straightening your back a little bit. “I got it as a gift.”

This made him pause. A gift? A rich patron had given this to you? And you were wearing it?

He stepped closer to you, his large frame towering over you. He was close enough that you could feel his body heat, could smell his deep, rich scent. 

“Who gave you this?” he asked you, his voice a low warning. “Well? Who touched you? Who did you have to fuck in order to get this?”

His tone was harsh, nearly making you flinch. As a whore you were used to a lot of crude words and insults, but this was coming from Aemond. 

“I got it from-”

“I am your prince,” he almost growled, “your king.” His eye bore into yours, nearly glaring. “You are mine. Had you forgotten that?” He scoffed, his fingers grazing the silks you were wearing. “I could buy you a hundred of these. In every colour your pretty little mind can think of-”

You turned away from him, feeling an uncomfortable rage. “You do not own me,” you said angrily, surprising him.

“You were gone for moons, Aemond. And this is my job-”

“I have given you everything,” he shot back, walking closer to you. “Only I have the right to touch you, to be with you, to… to…” he fell silent, the look in your eyes making him pause.

Fuck. 

His fighting words died down, seeing the emotions welling up in your eyes, emotions he had never seen in your eyes before. You looked hurt, and disappointed, and angry. That after so long, he was judging you how every other angry patron had treated you--like a whore.

“I… you…” he tried to start again, but he found himself at a loss for words.

“I… I am sorry,” he finally said, noticing the way you had looked away from him. “I just… I have missed you. And knowing that others have spent time with you… bought you things and spoiled you… it made me jealous. I don’t want anyone else to see you like this. Just me.”

Your eyes met his lone one again, seeing the way his gaze had softened, the way he was struggling to find the right words. 

"You are different from the others," Aemond murmured, his eye searching yours. "You know that. Surely you must know the effect you have on me."

He studied your body, seeing those curves he knew so intimately, the skin he had touched and kissed so many times before. He looked back into your eyes, seeing the depths in them. The mystery. And suddenly he was afraid he would never uncover it, that he would never truly understand you. 

“That is not a reason to talk to me like that,” you said softly, your lips downcast in a soft pout. Aemond took a shaky breath, taking a step closer. 

“I am sorry,” he said again. “Please. Please, forgive my foolishness.” 

You allowed him to step closer, feeling his hands slide up your arms, up to your shoulders, then cupping your face. 

“I… care for you. Deeply. And I’m not used to… feeling this way.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension melting away. “You’re foolish,” you murmured, making a small smile appear on his lips.

“I know,” he replied, leaning his head down to kiss you. 

His kiss was passionate, a silent way to remind you of his touch, his taste, the passion he had only for you. His tongue slid against the seam of your lips, his hands moving down to remove the robe from your skin. The second you were bare, he littered kisses against your throat, your collarbones.

“Forgive me,” he said again, his eye pleading. He backed you up towards the plush bed, his lips never leaving your skin. “Oh, forgive me.”

You moaned softly, his demeanor and touches setting your nerves alight. “I f-forgive you--ah-” you whimpered, your hips bucking when his hands skimmed your thighs. He laid you down on the bed, his mouth attaching to one of your pebbled nipples. He moaned softly, the vibrations making you gasp. 

“Mine… mine…” he kept repeating, his hand slipping between your thigh. His fingers parted your lips, finding you so wet already. And he didn’t want to wait, he was far too impatient. He had gone without for moons, and now he would finally have you again.

He pressed a finger inside, making you gasp and twitch. 

“Sweet girl,” he moaned, barely waiting to press a second finger into your cunt, “how I’ve missed you. How I’ve missed this soaked cunt-”

He started curling his fingers, making you bite your lower lip, your hips bucking into his motions. But he was so impatient, and he started thrusting them in and out of you, the wet noises from your pussy making you flush.

Aemond groaned, biting down on your lower lip. “Gods, you’re wet,” he panted, his fingers never slowing down. “Have you at least been thinking about me?” He asked you, the pleasure coursing through your body making you unable to focus on anything else. His palm rubbed at your clit, making you gasp and tremble. “Have you dreamt about me filling this pussy up again?”

His free hand moved towards his own breeches, stroking himself through the rough fabric.

“Aemond, please-” you barely managed to choke out, Aemond’s darkened eye snapping back up to look at you. 

“I know,” he murmured, “I know, sweet girl.” 

He tugged his breeches open, removing his fingers from your sopping cunt with a wet squelch. You panted, watching as he shoved his breeches down just enough to free his hard, leaking cock. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said, positioning himself in front of your entrance. And the second you did, he buried himself deeply into you. 

“Oh, fuck-” he groaned, needing a second to compose himself, resting his forehea din the crook of your neck. You were so wet, so warm, his head was spinning.

You held him close, your arms wrapped around him, your nails grazing the skin of his back. “Kiss me,” you whispered, and he listened immediately. He kissed you deeply, swallowing your whines and moans. He could feel your nails raking down his back, spurring him on.

“You feel-” he panted, “so good-” He hooked your thigh higher over his hip, fucking even deeper into you. 

"Yes, just like that," Aemond groaned, feeling your walls starting to flutter around him. "Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you come all over my hard cock."

He thrust even harder into you, skin slapping against skin. All you could do was hold tightly onto him, your cunt fluttering around his hard length. And the second he slid a hand down to rub at your clit, you came. 

“Yes, yes, yes-” Aemond growled, thrusting three more times before slamming a final time into you, staying deep inside as he came. He groaned, his nails biting into the skin of your thigh as he filled you up. 

“Oh, Gods-” he panted, collapsing on top of you. He took a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding. He shifted his weight after a moment, lying down beside you. His eye met yours, and for the first time, you smiled. And he smiled back.

“That was perfect,” he panted, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. “You are perfect.”

He nuzzled closer, holding you tight in his embrace. “Gods, I missed you.”

He captured your lips in another kiss, a deeper, slower one. You smiled into the kiss, resting your head on his chest. 

“I actually came in here hoping for you to suck my cock, but-”

“Aemond!” you hissed, slapping his chest. He laughed, a pleasant rumbling sound. 

You felt a small smile form on your lips, and just decided to lie back down against this chest. “Forgive me, sweet girl,” he said, still smiling, “you know I love that pretty mouth of yours. But I just… I needed to be inside you.”

He tilted your face up, his eye meeting yours. “I missed you a lot.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, his eye fluttering closed at the soft contact. “I missed you too,” you murmured, “a lot.”

A silence fell between you both, Aemond’s hand sliding up and down your back.

“Come live with me,” he said after a long pause, “in the Red Keep.”

Your eyes widened, propping yourself up on one arm. “Live with you?” you repeated him, “in the royal castle?” Aemond just nodded, as if his proposal was the most normal thing in the entire world. 

“I am the prince regent, now,” he said softly, his hand cupping your cheek, “and if I want you with me, I will.”

You were utterly speechless, your heart racing.

“Say yes, sweet girl. Come with me. I will dress you in the finest fabrics, feed you the most exquisite meals and fuck you every single night.” He leaned closer, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “We can wake up together,” he whispered, “every single day.”

"And you'll protect me? Against scrutiny?" you asked in a whisper, your heart still beating fast.

“With my life,” he answered, resting one of his hands over his heart. “You’ll be untouchable. You’ll be mine.” 

You let out a laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. “You are insane,” you said smiling, before nodding. “But, yes, I’ll be yours.”

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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chapter nine

“i’d leave if you’d let me.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: descriptions of pain, alcohol consumption, more smut (cuz i couldn’t help myself apparently lol): dry humping; quickie; cream pie, undressing a bandage, bite wounds, the morning after talk, return of the chain…

word count: 3.9k

author’s note: y’all i really can’t believe it… the penultimate chapter is here 🥲 i really can’t express how much it means to have you join me on this little journey here. whether you’ve been reading from the beginning or just found it, i just want to convey my sincerest thanks 💖 no alastor pov this time (a first! i shocked even myself) but don’t fret — we will get a peek into his mind before this is all over. sorry if this one’s a little dialogue heavy but they had a lot to say 🙈✨ also please go listen to 1121 by halsey 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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You stirred, eyebrows furrowing as a sleepy whine rose in your throat; a pulsing ache effectively kicking you out of unconsciousness. There was movement next to you on the bed followed by the sound of a book closing and the clinking of glass, rounded out with the soothing melody of liquid pouring. 

As your eyes finally cracked open, still blurry with sleep, you took a deep waking breath through your nose. Spending so much time here, you recognized Alastor’s room by scent alone. Something that didn’t fully resonate with you until another realization came to mind — the bed you were in right now was his. Tucked into the very sheets you so diligently made nice every morning.

“I was wondering when you’d be waking up… I have medicine for you.” 

Alastor’s voice was mellow as his fingers swept the hair back from your face, and you blinked a few times to clear your vision. He was bending over you, backlit against the warm light coming from the lamp on the nightstand, looking disarming as ever in his pajamas. But the softly amused look on his face made you doubt that you were really awake.

Another unpleasant throb in your shoulder was a reminder that you most definitely were. Which also brought attention to the fact that you had been dressed as well. Underneath the clothing you took note of the confined, consoling feeling around your shoulder and chest, not dissimilar from a seatbelt. A bandage? 

When had all this happened? And what time was it? Clearly late enough to constitute the need for lamplight…

You weren’t able to dwell on anything more before a sharp jolt of pain shot straight up your neck, causing you to wince with a hiss. Alastor tutted and nudged the glass at you with one hand and helped you sit up with the other. When you reached out you recognized the pattern on the sleeve adorning your arm, a lump forming in your throat. Alastor’s housecoat. Though you were just as quickly distracted from that fact when you realized what he had shoved in your hand.

“This is medicine?” you sulked, frowning over the glass of whiskey stinging your nostrils. “You don’t just have—”

“Don’t get me started on those wretched pills, if that’s what you’re referring you,” he scoffed, face pinched with offense. His voice softened a bit but was still assertive when he continued. “This is natural. It will help. Promise.”

You looked at him with a dubiousness that didn’t reach your eyes, slowly lifting the glass to your lips. He saw right through it of course, judging by the smoldering look of satisfaction he was giving you. There was another ache… this time not in your shoulder. You weren’t exactly thrilled with how easily you melted under his gaze. Not with all backtracking the two of you still had to do regarding the afternoon. Maybe it’s just a post-sex aftershock…

So you sipped the drink, actually appreciating the distracting burn in your throat that trickled into your chest. You didn’t even have to say it, glowering at him and his haughty I told you so smile over the glass as you finished it off. He took the empty glass from you, refilled it with double the amount, and handed it back.

“No more after this, right?” you said after downing more than half of it with a grimace. Whiskey was never a favorite of yours and the taste was starting to overpower the burn.

“Promise,” he goaded, face turned up with his familiar taunt.

Thankfully the blush on your face could be dismissed by the alcohol, but you weren’t able to stop the scoffing laugh that escaped you; covering your mouth with your free hand when you remembered yourself. God forbid he thought you were making fun of him — which you obviously weren’t — but it would be just your luck to spoil the mood. He surprised you, taking your hand from your mouth as he leaned in, a mischievous leer glimmering in his eyes. 

“Goodness! You know, I was really beginning to think you didn’t know how to laugh,” he said, voice low, his hand coming up to rest under your chin. A mutual favorite place for him to touch. “Is this a new development, or have I always been so amusing?”

“Sometimes,” you answered mildly, grateful you managed to keep the tremble out of your voice but failed to maintain eye contact as your heart picked up. The way his thumb was lazily petting your jaw wasn’t helping. “I’m just normally better at holding back.”

Alastor’s face was in front of you now, noses almost touching as his eyes focused on you. He took the drink out of your hand and finished what was left before setting it down to resume his close proximity. “Hmm… I think that’s the habit of yours I dislike the most.”

The kiss that followed was esurient, his long fingers now splayed across the expanse of your neck to hold you in place as his tongue wasted no time finding comfort in your mouth. The whine you couldn’t hold back earned you a lusty hum in return, followed by a testing bite to your bottom lip as your fingers tangled in his hair. It was only too easy to slip back into this; openly moaning into him as he took you by the waist and easily maneuvered you to straddle his lap. His wicked mouth never leaving yours for a moment.

Time slipped away, its intangibility and irrelevance in the afterlife never more apparent as your mind and body honed in on the present. God, he was just so warm; the comfort it gave you was concerning, leaving you worried over how you would fare without it. It wasn’t the only thing you were troubled over — equally relishing the gift of every sound and touch he gave. His lithe, statuesque frame still providing so much security even while underneath you being the most generous of all.

“I think I like this too much,” you whispered against his lips, out of breath. Unsure if the confession was one of shame, regret, or pride.   

“I know,” he murmured, giving your lips a final kiss before leaving a trail of them to your neck. Wantonly indulging himself there as if it could kiss back.

It was hard to discern the ambiguity you heard in his voice. Not quite pity, not quite indifference. And despite the fire that threatened to envelop you whole, the thought that crept up in the back of your mind was one you couldn’t ignore.

Was he regretting this already?

The thought was abruptly whisked away as Alastor’s hips rolled against you, the feeling of his arousal pulling a heady sigh from your chest. He let out a soft grunt in return, the sensation of his open mouth and hot breath against your skin making you feel faint. The graze of his teeth as his hands guided you to slowly grind on him made you cry out in earnest; a sound you repeated from his responding moan. You stayed this way for a while, rocking and moaning against each other as he covered the right side of your neck with more hickies and bites and kisses until the pressure building in your loins was too much to bear.

“Alastor, please,” you pleaded softly, your need hanging heavy in the air of the otherwise silent room.

He gasped into your skin and lifted you off him, reaching underneath the night coat to pull your underwear down, then doing the same with his own pants. Propped up against some pillows, he was at an angle somewhere between lying down and sitting up, and he brought his knees up behind you for support. You gasped as he ran his length against your slick arousal, walls already twitching just from the memory of how he had felt inside you earlier. The two of you shared a loud, wanton moan of relief as you took him to the hilt, panting as you both adjusted.

Definitely like this too much… 

Exhilarated by the very real aspect of not lasting long, you reflexively clenched around him; drawing a hiss from between his teeth that in turn left his mouth hanging open in such a salacious way you couldn’t stop yourself from whining his name.

“Hahhh…! A warning next time, sweetheart,” he gasped, his hands on your waist tightening with a pleasantly firm grip. 

Perhaps as retribution, the sharp thrust he gave you made you scream from pleasure and shock. Afterward, he set a deep and steady pace, the angle quickly proving to be a new favorite with the way your clit rubbed against him; his swollen head mercilessly stimulating your spongy core as he bounced you on and off his cock. The slapping of your skin meeting between your combined gasps of rapture only fueling your lust.

“Hmmnnn Alastor…!” you mewled, feeling a wave of your arousal coat him as you cried out. Barely able to keep your eyes open from the way your eyebrows were drawn together. “Alastor!”

“Haahh, fuck — Ahhh…!” he moaned, throwing his head back as he began bucking into you in earnest. Your hands gripping his shoulders to try and keep steady as you eagerly accepted his new rhythm.

The tightness in your belly made itself known then with a scorching ache. Coiling tighter and tighter as you took in his licentious expression and heaving chest until you couldn’t take it anymore. Too intoxicated by the erotic scene and feeling of him to hold on.

“Alastor — mmm! You’re gonna — hahh — gonna make me cum,” you practically sobbed, unable to stop the words as a blush burned your cheeks.

He let out a loud, drawn out grunt as his head shot up, eyes looking straight into yours; his florid face, clenched teeth, and intense crimson gaze the last thing you saw before your vision went white. Unabashedly moaning as your orgasm crashed through you with an exquisite relief you didn’t know was possible. Alastor cursed as you spasmed and tightened around him, his fingers punishing on your waist as he quickly followed suit and came inside you; that hot, familiar feeling of his release nearly making you climax again as the two of you sloppily rocked against each other until the high was finally sated.

You collapsed against his chest, his rapid heartbeat a lovely companion to the sounds of you both trying to catch your breath. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he pulled out, the emptiness that followed causing you to whimper which he responded to with a tired, satisfied chuckle that rumbled in your ears. The warmth you felt in your chest from the sound provided both comfort and alarm as an accompanying question bloomed in your mind.

How will we ever go back to normal…?

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When you awoke again you were in your own bed, noticeably alone. The morning light piercing your curtains bright enough to indicate that you might be pushing early afternoon. You stretched and rolled onto your back, taking in the sight of your shredded canopy. So that had been the sound you heard…

After lying there for a few minutes, you groaned as you forced yourself out of bed, driven mostly by your need to take a shower. Something that presented somewhat of a problem when you remembered the bandage Alastor had dressed you with. Would it be too soon to remove? And what was hiding underneath? A pang of anxiety shot through you, wishing he was here to provide the answers.

But he’s not.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to find in the mirror, but you had definitely underestimated the state of your neck. There didn’t seem to be an inch of it that wasn’t touched by a violet bruise or scarlet bite, save for your throat, which presented a contrast so stark it almost made you dizzy. How the hell will I cover this up?

The only thing you owned with a collar high enough was the dress that Alastor had ruined in a fit of passion with no replacement in sight. You took a deep breath and shed the housecoat, taking in the bandage that wrapped around your left shoulder and chest, unsure of where to start in terms of unwrapping it — he had done a very good job. A fact that weighed on your heart like a stone.

You managed to find the loose end as the shower warmed up, easily unwinding the gauze from your chest until you gingerly began the task of peeling it off your shoulder. Worried that parts of it might have stuck to each mark of his fangs; a painful fate you weren’t able to completely avoid, but on the whole, you considered yourself lucky that the gauze had only latched to a few of the punctures. An incredulous huff of a laugh escaped you when you realized that the huge bite would actually be easier to hide than the hickies.

As was typically the case, you felt a lot better once you were out of the shower. It was a serenity that was quickly pulled out from under you when you opened your bathroom door and saw Alastor sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped, hand over your heart. It was mostly true, though you found yourself more relieved at the sight of him than anything.

“Ha, ha! Yes, I’ve been known to do that,” he said, his eyes narrowing with a smug mirth as he patted the empty space next to him. “Come sit. I thought you might need some help.”

You sighed, doing your best to keep your heartbeat steady as you crossed the room and sat down on the bed with your back to him at his direction with a silent spin of his finger. He had brought a little kit of supplies consisting of a couple tins, tape, and gauze. The items laid out near him on the bed with a meticulousness you couldn’t help but find endearing. Was there anything he set out to do without poise and purpose?

He quickly got to work, humming aimlessly to himself as he applied one of the tinctures to each puncture of his bite. Whatever it was, the subtle sting it provided was a nice distraction from the overwhelming herbal smell it gave off. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but you would be glad to have it covered up all the same. Alastor had to lean over you to attend to the wounds on your collarbone, and you let yourself get lost in the look of concentration on his face.

“You’re in a good mood today,” you said quietly as his hand fanned over the medicine to dry.

He huffed a small laugh, lips curling into a pleasant smile. “Well I certainly never set out to be in a bad mood, my dear.” He let out a melodramatic sigh before adding, “It’s just thrust upon me.”

“Aww, what a victim you are,” you pouted sarcastically, laughing when he flicked your arm. 

“You’re in quite the good mood yourself, all things considered,” he mused, applying the balm from his second tin. 

The careful but firm application from his fingers made you hum with content and the two of you locked eyes then, but the look in his was torn; fighting between fondness and pity. He didn’t have to say it, you already knew.

“We need to talk about yesterday,” you said, resigned, pleased to hear that you sounded stronger than you felt. 

He nodded with a sigh, the soft smile on his lips threatening to make your eyes well with sudden tears. “That we do, my dear. But let me finish with your bandage first, hm?”

You did your best not to overthink the conversation ahead of you while he finished applying the balm before wrapping you up, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. There were only so many things to say, after all. So many ways it could go…

What exactly did you want from all of this? It was hard enough to rectify the blossoming feelings you had for Alastor despite the short amount of time you had known him. But you had discovered so much about him in spite of that, the sex just made it more complicated. It wasn’t that you regretted it — how could you? You wouldn’t deny that it had been the best sex of your existence. Even with the bite. Still, you were typically much more cautious when it came to giving your heart away to someone. What was it about Alastor that made you throw your rules to the wayside? 

When you racked your brain for an answer, all it did was conjure his image. Silly, considering he was right behind you. Methodically dressing your wound with the same amount of care he had displayed after giving it to you. How many times had those hands provided you with his brand of reassurance? That mix of tenderness and strength that he gave to you at his whim, effectively catching you in his push-and-pull game. Whether your feelings for him in the aftermath had been his intent or not, well. They were there.

The playing ground was tipped in his favor, but you understood that. Even in the middle of your tryst, you knew that it could very well be the only time. Maybe he just needed to let off some steam. Yesterday you had felt resolved enough to be of use to him in whichever way he needed, more than willing to let him have his prize (so to speak). It would be naive to think that the dynamic between you wouldn’t change. Either for better or worse, that was inevitable but… that didn’t explain why you felt so dejected.

What do I want?

Could you be satisfied with being used as a plaything, if that’s what he wanted? The thought of him never touching you again made that an easier pill to swallow, bitter as it was. But you weren’t a fool. It’s not as if you were expecting a marriage proposal.

Suddenly Alastor's hand was cupping your face so that you were looking up at him, a relaxed but almost somber expression waiting for you. 

“You’re worried. I can smell it, you know.”

You sighed, resenting the blush you felt creeping across your face. “Of course you can. I don’t think there’s anything that’s only mine anymore beyond my own thoughts.”

The words came out sharper than you had meant them to, but you didn’t apologize. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to mind, staying silent as if waiting for you to continue. So you did.

“Do you regret it? And be honest with me… please.”

It was his turn to sigh now, taking a moment before responding calmly. “Not all of it.”

I knew it.

Really, you did. But the knowledge wasn’t helping as much as you hoped it would. In fact, it was only serving to make you feel worse.

“Which parts?”

He said your name with a warning. One you should have heeded, given how long it had been since he had spoken your real name. But you didn’t look away from him. You refused to beg with your mouth, so you pleaded with your eyes. Just tell me.

Alastor exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. 

“The circumstance doesn't sit right with me. I’m sure you didn’t notice, but Valentino left his pheromones on you — and they were especially potent… I have a hard time believing his intention was for you to make it out with just a bite.” He looked down at your shoulder then, an unreadable expression on his face. “I don’t enjoy being played for a fool.”

A flash of anger shot through you, but you did your best to quell it. Letting it get the better of you right now would only be to your detriment. Did he not realize what a cruel, selfish thing that was to say? He wasn’t the only one who had been toyed with.

“Okay, so what about last night? The second time. Were the pheromones still working then, too?” you pressed. The embarrassment you felt fueling the frustration in your voice. 

Alastor stood up then, the strain of impatience beginning to show on his face as he towered over you. “I suggest you watch your tone, child. And remember that I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. You are beholden to me. Not the other way around.”

The simmering anger you had managed to keep down boiled over at that, and you jumped to your feet to glare up at him. Since any kind of autonomy was out of the question, then an explanation was the least he could give you. And even then, it was something you could no longer be satisfied with if it was coming from some twisted form of benevolence on his part. 

Valentino had his part to play, but it’s not like he had forced Alastor to kiss you when you offered him your help. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying now, so contradictory to his actions. Every kind word and touch… Did they all come from some weird obligation he felt to play the part until the pheromones wore off? The bandage he had just applied with such attentiveness felt like a mockery. How did you let yourself get so carried away by it all? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Everything is your way, your pace! All you’ve done since I met you is push me around and play with my feelings — and have I ever done anything than take it? I clean your room the way you want it, I keep up with all the busywork you give me. And now you’ve taken one of the last pieces of me that was still just mine, but that was a game, too!”

“You forget your place!” he roared, his face darkening with fury as the chain appeared around your neck. He pulled the leash taught so that you were standing on your toes as he forced you to look up at him, your hands instinctively holding onto it to balance your weight. “If your existence here is so miserable, perhaps you’d like to join the souls I keep in my radio? I can assure you it’s less than pleasant,” he hissed with vitriol, tugging on the chain so that your faces were nearly touching. Your toes no longer on the floor.

Despite your better judgement, you leaned in. Too ashamed and angry to stay calm; tears flowing freely down your face from the intensity of the loathing you currently felt towards him and yourself.

“You’d be doing me a fucking favor,” you said, choking the words out through your sob-heavy throat. Every bit of it the truth. “And I’m sure you’ll have a great time telling everyone where you sent me.”

“Vicious brat!” he shrilled, face distorted with malicious static that hovered around him like a storm. Then the chain and static disappeared as you collapsed to the floor. But the venom in his red eyes hurt you more than that chain ever could. Or at least that’s how you felt until he spoke next, the chill in his voice piercing you with every word. “Keep your distance from me if you know what’s good for you. If I catch you roaming the hall of my suite, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Then he was gone, spiriting himself away in shadow. Leaving you to sob on the floor of your room.

Alone.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmic-lavender, @stardustandbrimstone, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @phamtasic, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth

[dailysylvesterashling]

Day one hundred twenty one and a half

Sylvie’s side of the AU…

First off, Devoid can make particles of darkness that can possess animate creatures and turn inanimate things into monsters (maybe canon? i got that from the PPIDWTBAMG fandom wiki and it's not sourced so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Imagine the scene where Aika and Zira are talking at the lunch table, But instead of an instant reveal with eclipse bursting through the school walls with an explosion…

this one’s a gradual reveal

As Zira’s nerding out about moon sailor…

…a soft orange light covers the entire lunchroom ceiling

And something starts falling from it...

Small yellow particles fall down like snow, glistening in the light

Some students reach out to touch it, others cover their mouths and walk out, thinking it's some weird prank

And then alot more run out, those who saw the students who touched the yellow pollen pass out unconcious

That's fine, as long as no one is in the room...no one but the star guardian...

Meanwhile as Zira panics, Aika groans and pulls an umbrella out of her pocket, she knows who's the cause of this

After a few seconds of Zira and Aika sharing an umbrella (cute)

They both hear a laugh, low and...kinda forced

They turn to see Dr. Sylvester Ashling, or as the magical girls know him as

Mr. Sandman

Right hand of Darkness herself

Hands behind his back as he smirked

Sylvie still has his sleep powers, counting sheep, dream big, gross ass dandruff, all that

but alongside that, he has Devoid's Darkness with him

which allows him to be much, much more...not deadly per say, but much more effective in combat

Mr sandman doesn't kill anyone and only really hurts magical girls, and even then

Sylvie can combine the darkness with his sleep dust, Making what is basically a hypnosis powder

The sleep dust makes people pass out, and the darkness posseses them, turning them into a minion of Sylvie

Of course Sylvie doesn't rely on them too much, all you have to do to wake them up for them to be 'saved'

However, thanks to Lady D, Sylvie can summon her darkness just as easily as he can summon his sleep dust

Sylvie can combine the darkness with his sheep to make them more agressive but less controlled

Making them more likely to do things Sylvie didn't intend for or ask for

and if he's feeling really cornered?

He can combine the darkness with dream big

It turns Beefton black opaque, making it so Sylvie can't be woken up by bright lights of the such, Plus beefton himself is generally more bigger and angrier

he's become a real pain in the ass for Aika and the rest of the magical girls

Lady Devoid's like a proud mom...go beat those magical girls up king

[art-of-a-ghostie]

After three centuries, I am here with art, specifically Ramsey's minions in Epithet Traded (AU where the trio swap roles)!!

Have some fun facts about them under the cut:

Tumult and Omen go by they/them, Omen, Chimera and Yellow by she/her, and Genie by he/him

Unlike Giovanni's Boys they made it in the cut and have been given a captain (Ramsey), the only exception is Yellow, who was instead "transferred" from Arnold and Bugsy' team to Ramsey's (they found her annoying and wanted to get a reason to have contact with Ramsey for his epithet so they killed two birds with a stone by literally abandoning her in the same way a birth parent abandon a baby, leaving her at the feet of Ramsey's team with a card taped on her forehead and the ran away)

The reason why they all have a nickname is not because they impressed their team but because Ramsey didn't want to risk outing them during missions and slapped the first things he thought while seeing them

Also, Ramsey at first didn't really care about them, or better saying, he didn't want to care about them, but they easily got inside his heart anyway. He almost feels bad to have given Yellow such a lame nickname.

They all have matching earrings <3. They are friends :]

They are all mundies except Genie, but Chimera and Omen THINK they MIGHT have one as well, but don't know the word

Genie has the epithet "Manufacturing". It's a mix between "soulmates", "augment", and "parapet". He can create anything at a cost; he must know what materials they are made of and what the procedures are behind the process of their creations. His stamina allows him to do that only three times, and this is why he was nicknamed "Genie" (that and his incredible resemblance to the one in the movie Aladdin)

Omen is like Milo Murphy in the sense that she is extremely unlucky, but has adapted so well that she is thriving. If it's a side effect of an epithet she doesn't know to have, a curse, or just herself, is something she has no clues about. Put her in the same room with Car Crash and you get a slapstick comedy a la Tom and Jerry.

Chimera is similar, but is more a "YAY ADVENTURE :D" and a bit of an adrenaline junkie instead of Omen who is more a "OkayThisIsHappening ApparentlyAndOnlyICanGetMyselfOutOfThisShit ":/" and mostly gets herself in trouble because she wants to.

The reason the rest thinks she is inscribed (she doesn't really think about it) is because she survived ridiculous things in her life, but on the other hand, this is Epithet Erased, and humans are just built differently

I imagine her coming from an eccentric hippie rich family for some reason. Their aesthetic might be the opposite of the Addams Family's, but they would be on the same wavelength.

Her hair is dyed btw. (The rest have natural hair)

Medium is sort of like Sylvie, likes to pretend they are intellectual and the voice of reason, but they are a dork like anyone else

They have a cat they called "Maximus Leopold The Third" they spoil him so much that when they talked about him to their crew for the first time, the crew was thinking that Medium was a teen parent

Tumult is actually the voice of reason, and sometimes the closest Ramsey has as a second in command/therapist, which makes Genie and Medium so pissed because they want to be Ramsey's second in command >:(

Yellow still hangs out with the rest of the Jennifers :] (mentioned in chapter 5 of Bold at the museum)

She also shares a one-sided rivalry with Flamethrower (yeah, he is still a Giovanni's boy) because she is in the basketball team and he is in the male cheerleading club and train in the same gym and she is like "Hey wanna jog with me? :]" and his hot headed ass just assumes this is a declaration of challenge, says yes, and gets even more pissed when she is just "Wow you are so fast :D" because he thinks she is mocking him. (This happens in the normal canon universe too btw).

They all have a music playlist where they put their favorite songs together, and it's a headache-inducing nightmare between ABBA, musicals, meme songs, pop songs, remixed classical music, Nightcore cores edit, and Vocaloids. Ramsey listens to it while he draws commissions.

[kvetchlandia]

So...

I went today to see "A Complete Unknown," the new James Mangold flick about Bob Dylan's early years in the Village, from his arrival in New York City in Jan, 1961 until he went electric at the Newport Folk Festival in July, 1965.

I've been a Dylan nut since I was a little kid. This, I'm sure, has little to do with any genius or musical/artistic insight on my part. Rather, it's probably just a bit of luck that fell my way in having an older sister with excellent musical taste who first turned me on to Bobby.

Don't worry, I'm not going to give away anything, for those of you who might find yourself reading this and who want to see the film but haven't done so yet. I'll limit my comments to a few, very general points.

I've read some reviews that are critical of the film for compressing some events, combining others and flipping some chronologies, as well as for leaving out some people who were important parts of the Village scene in the early 60s. I think such criticisms are silly. We're watching a piece of dramatic art based in reality, not a documentary on that reality. Four and a half years of life can't be squeezed into a bit more than two hours of screen time without taking such license. We're not going to sit through those years in real time. The screen writers and the director have to make choices and they did so in order to tell the story they wanted to tell.

The only criticism I'll share, and I feel sharing it won't in any way way interfere with anyone's enjoyment of the film, is that I wasn't particularly happy with the way Suze Rotolo was portrayed. For those who aren't Dylan fanatics and who don't have a clue who Suze Rotolo was, she was Bobby's first love and muse after arriving in the Village. In fact, at Bob's request (he was involved with the making of the film), Suze's name wasn't even used, because even though she has passed, she was always a very private individual and all these years later, Dylan still wanted to respect that privacy. In the film, she's known as Sylvie Russo. In any case, Suze was a very strong, politically active young woman, a red-diaper baby (as am I), an activist in the Congress of Racial Equality and an artist in her own right. She's the person who introduced Bob to politics, getting him so involved that he was both a participant in the Freedom Summer integration and voter registration drives in the Jim Crow South in 1963 and a singer at Martin Luther King, Jr's March on Washington for Job's and Freedom, also in 1963. It was though her influence that Dylan wrote many of his most powerful early political songs. Due to their rocky relationship and ultimate breakup, she was also the subject of some of his most beautiful ballads from that period. I just don't think any of that comes through particularly well in the film. The writers and director chose to focus more on his time with Joan Baez. I understand why they made that decision. I just think they could have managed to do so without giving such short shrift to Suze.

As far as the acting goes, Monica Barbaro is fantastic as Joan Baez and she also does a superb job of singing in Joanie's style. Edward Norton is very good as Pete Seeger. Scott McNairy is heartbreaking in his few scenes as Woody Guthrie, already deeply disabled by Huntington's Disease when Dylan first visits him shortly after arriving in New York in 1961. Timothée Chalamet, of course, has to carry the weight as Bob. He's pretty effective. He doesn't have Dylan's charisma nor is he as stunning looking as the Dylan of 1965 was, but he still pulls it off.

All right, I've said enough. Go see it. You'll like it.

[lupinescribbler]

I’ve been enabled <3 @daltonsnightmare is officially in the top ten people.

Finally made enough art of them to ramble about these blokes. I’ll be tagging posts like this ‘Lupine’s original fiction’ so if you only want to see my generally fandom related content feel free to block the tag.

First off, we got Aubrey, Matthias, and Sylvia.

Aubrey and Matthias are brothers, Matthias is three years older. Growing up, Matthias very much filled the protective older brother role, while Aubrey had his head in the clouds. They were both somewhat antisocial and pretty introverted, so they leaned hard on each other until Matthias enlisted at eighteen-ish. After that, they both had diverging paths. Aubrey pursued art and they kept contact for a few years until Matthias ghosted everyone. Mostly because he'd gotten wrapped up in urban-fantasy hijinks and become a monster-hunter, but also because both brothers have an unhealthy tendency to self-isolate.

Eight-ish years later (still writing the story, so all dates are subject to change lol) Matthias is forced home due to an injury, and has to reconcile with all the damage he's done to his various relationships. My novel mainly focuses on the estranged brothers reconnecting, figuring out how to build back a relationship as adults that has been left to gather dust since childhood, etc etc. Of course it's also paired with an urban fantasy setting that Aubrey initially knows absolutely nothing about but will soon make itself his problem.

Matthias has a very ‘rub some dirt on it’ approach to any problem, mental or physical. A very practical guy, ineloquent, sarcastic, and pragmatic. Even if what he’s doing is irrational, the way he’s doing it rarely is. A lot of his sense of ego is tied to being self-sufficient, being able to take care of the people around him, and being trustworthy/reliable. Despite his abrasiveness, he’s a good listener which will reflect in his actions far more than words. Despite his more callous-seeming traits, he is anything but. He might struggle to say the right thing, but he will always try to.

Aubrey always feels like the outsider. He’s thoughtful and considerate of others, but struggles to form long-term connections. He can also be a bit awkward and soft-spoken unless he’s dealing with his brother in which case he abuses his younger brother privileges to be a petty bastard. He’s deeply obstinate but also chronically gentle. He’s also pretty eccentric, always head in the clouds and when he is two feet on the ground he’s usually single minded on one specific thing which can lead to him being oblivious. His main asset is a freakish ability to commit things to memory, especially visually. This ability incidentally leads to him becoming the strongest living sorcerer by technicality alone (he still can’t actually do magic) but that’s a whole other story.

Sylvia, generally called Sylvie, is a lone werewolf estranged from her pack that Aubrey obliviously let crash on his couch for a few weeks several years before the start of the story. She’s a chronic wanderer, and is abrasive and aggressive (bite first, ask questions later). She’s pretty street smart, but only as a side effect of being defensive, kinda feral, and highly suspicious. She’s well acclimated to a very brutal, instinct driven way of living which means she’s running on adrenaline, spite, and survival instincts all the time. More positively, she’s very loyal and protective over her people, which comes to include Aubrey and — more begrudgingly — Matthias. She also has a soft spot for anyone or anything that she doesn’t see as a threat, such as kids, the elderly, or pretty much any non-fighter. It can be a little insulting, but it’s well meant. She also stands up strongly for what she believes to be right, or more so to oppose what she believes to be unfair.

She is very fond of Aubrey, but mistakenly sees him as kinda naive and helpless (mainly because he let a dangerous stranger crash on his couch, which is honestly kinda fair enough) but he’s a lot more cynical and clever in reality. She has to adapt to see and acknowledge strength in traits other than aggression and ruthlessness.

[phoenixwritessmut]

intimacy headcanons about bottoms (2023)

okay, so i have a lot of feelings about this movie right here. i watched it in theatres with one of my bestfriends, and we couldn't stop talking about it afterwards - more specifically, headcanons we had about the fight club OG members and their reactions to sexual intimacy.

hear me out, okay.

PJ (we start with the queen who started it all): - talks a big game but actually wildly unknowledgeable about everything to do with the female orgasm. - is a bottom. it's in the title, it's in her genes, it's in her jeans. - has a controversy kink (cute cheerleaders, chicks that can make shit explode) and will vehemently deny that she likes the thrill of crushing out on someone she ABSOLUTELY has no business crushing on. - learned halfway through the movie that she's into pain!

Josie (the brains of the operation... sometimes): - pimpy as fuck. she thought she'd be shy and nervous, but when she gets going she's three steps from being the hugh hefner of lesbians. - she's a top, but a service top who will let her girl do the 'topping' if she wants to (and by girl, i mean Isabel). - secret collection of toys "just in case" she needs the help with her stamina (girl just recovered from a broken arm)... spoiler alert, they use absolutely none of them and still run for like four to six rounds. - too embarrassed to admit she used to watch videos to "take notes".

Hazel (my baby, she is everything to me): - is baby girl, but is also daddy depending on her mood (and what PJ is into at the time) but is precious none the less. - refuses to turn the lights off because she likes to watch you both during and after the throes of passion. - lowkey but also kind of highkey enjoys public displays of affection after the kiss that started the straight up murder of an entire football team of teenage boys (also enjoys shoving it in Tim's face that she's got a girlfriend, and he's got... Jeff!). - ridiculously good at what she does but doesn't brag... instead PJ brags to everyone for her, and she ends up with a reputation.

Isabel (shiny, shiny, shiny, shiny): - first time she slept with Josie, she lost all hope that a man would ever know how to satisfy her - or another woman for that matter. - seems like she would be a pillow princess but is actually extremely into giving, and fights with Josie all the time over "topping". - gets turned on watching Josie break people's noses (it's happened a few times, all to the same effect) and isn't ashamed to admit it. - went to Hazel for tips on how to do things, before word even got out that Hazel was a pro... Isabel just had the feeling that Hazel knew.

Brittany (token straight girl... literally the token straight girl): - since turning down PJ, has kissed more girls than the entire club combined (it doesn't help that half of them are all into each other). - wavers on the border of being bi-curious, but just didn't know how to turn down PJ gently, also just not ready to fully come out yet. - definitely fantasizes about women while she's with her boyfriend though. he knows and doesn't really mind about that. - stands by Hazel deserves better than PJ, and if she were just five percent more into women, she'd steal poor Hazel away in a heartbeat.

and to a lesser degree, we had some headcanons about everyone else...

Stella-Rebecca (the regina george, only nicer): - looks like a pillow princess, absolutely is a pillow princess. - into some crazy ass shit; things that the rest of the girls won't even search online for until they're at least twenty-five, married, and bored in their current intimacy lives.

Sylvie (let's crowdfund to get this girl some help): - looks like she'd be in charge, is also a pillow princess, but is completely unashamed to admit that she prefers receiving. - has been hooking up with Annie since the second meeting of fight club. only Hazel knows, but she isn't a snitch.

Annie (you fool nobody, you a freak my dear): - has been hooking up with Sylvia since the second meeting of fight club, when she very concerned about the girl's homelife asked her out for dinner to "talk" and then they ended up spending the entire night together, before they kissed and fooled around a little bit, and Annie told herself for the longest time she was only doing this to make Sylvie happy because the girl is wildly unhappy, only to realize that she's the unhappy one and Sylvie makes her happy. - doesn't know that Hazel knows about them. she aint a snitch.

and for extra bonus points... we had lots of feelings about this.

Jeff (i'm saying he counts, so there): - has never found THE spot, ever. - had to practice with Tim on how to take a bra off because he kept getting confused by all of the buckles and "why is there so many straps? why do they even need these things? can't i rip it? what if i just buy them a new bra after? okay fine." - genuinely does not realize that Mrs. Callahan's daughter Hazel goes to his school and knows his girlfriend, until he is confronted by them. - falls asleep thirty-six seconds after he finishes like a lazy ass.

[liies]

a little tva au that lives in my brain so i guess this can live here too . notes under cut:

agent "blank", aka simply Agent -- a variant of my shield agent original character, a demolitions expert whose love of explosives is as vast as her patience -- that is to say, it's infinite, thanks to a quirk of her mutation. here at the time variance authority, this variant of agent primarily works in the testing field to try out new equipment developed by r+d. she's often sent out on assignments to prune branches, or sometimes simply to watch over new prisoners ( or new workers. perhaps both. ) often works with agent "sharp", but has been given work orders to keep an eye on loki here and there when he and mobius aren't busy working together. she is perhaps the only person who is endlessly patient enough to truly accept all of his antics... though she can tell there's clearly some sort of plot forming in their mind. namely, it seems like they have some sort of interest in agent sharp.

loki variant L327, "agent viathan" -- you know him. he is the loki of this blog's fame. obviously has a fair bit of similarity to the canon loki, though they're more willing to cooperate with the time variance authority in order to unravel the mysteries and secrets it holds. has agreed to take on a position as an agent / analyst for now in order to effectively schmooze his way into learning more information, especially after noticing strangely edited discrepancies when it comes to the tva's file on himself -- namely, the time he spent living in victorian london is partly missing. if the first season had been longer, i really wish it had shown us more of loki working with the tva and traveling with mobius in order to slowly learn more about sylvie / 'the variant's' plans. so here he is. his codename comes from the official loki arg that kind of went off the rails and became more or less defunct. we may never know what they were planning to do with that.

agent "sharp" -- ( a ) theo bell from loki: where mischief lies' fame. he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he's here for all time. always. he'd said it himself before: shakespearean love tends to end in tragedy. there was no place for theo on the sacred timeline -- if he had still been there when loki went back for him, it would have changed things irrevocably. the events of the mcu would likely never have happened, so he was taken by the tva. like other variant workers, he has no memory of his life other than being an agent, but certain little things still bleed through from time to time. he's met plenty of loki variants in his day -- this person, whoever they may be, seems cosmically destined to end up here -- but L327... they seem familiar for some reason. he doesn't know loki. but he feels like he should.

[pbandjesse]

I was really tired all day. Like to the point I was spacing out a ton. But it wasn't a bad day. I'm just beat.

I slept alright. I struggled to fall asleep and Sylvia woke up suddenly at 130 and startled me. But after she ate I was able to go back to sleep pretty fast.

When I woke up this morning I was exhausted. James was putting baby down and told me to try and get more rest but I didn't want to throw off the routine I like. I would get up and told Sylvia, who was awake and smiling at me, that I would be back for her soon.

I got cleaned up and dressed. Made the bed. And finally got baby out of her sleep sack.

I got her dressed and told her about our day. That we would go sit in the living room before moving to the studio. And when James got home we would go outside.

James was getting the oil changed in the car. Some filters. General maintenance. And thankfully it didn't take as long as it has in the past.

While we were home alone I would do some sewing. Some tummy time with baby. And just enjoying the morning. Sylvia would take a nap and I tried but I couldn't turn off my brain, even though my body was so tired. Like I was just laying in the studio and feeling absolutely disconnected to my body.

I texted James that I was feeling weird. Confused. And when they came home we talked about it and decided to reach out to the therapist we met at the tummy time. I don't think a therapist is what I need, I think I need someone to help with my medication. I think the Zoloft is working but I also think I'm having some side effects. Brain fog and confusion and memory issues. Everyone wants to blame that on 'mommy brain' but I don't think it's that.

James and me would go for a walk soon. I wanted to try turning Sylvia's bassinet stroller into the seat version. My thinking being that she's much sturdier now and she likes sitting. When she's laying she just falls asleep. And she would still fall asleep on this walk but I felt like she was engaged more. Being able to see her face and she ours, I think helped a lot.

It was a really nice walk honestly. It was the best, most present, I felt all day. I loved seeing baby's face when we went under trees. Her eyes get so big.

When we stopped under a willow tree we stopped and I was surprised there was someone walking behind us. So I got out of there way and he made a comment about how we were uncomfortable with him behind us. But I didn't even know he was there! He was like an old motorcycle man. I wasn't uncomfortable, just surprised I hadn't hear him.

Sylvie started to fall asleep again so we started heading home. I was excited to have a salad when we got back. We got the salad dressing I like again.

And so when we got home I brought baby in and James got her bottle and she had lunch before we did.

I sat outside and tried to embroider but I was having trouble focusing. Just to tired. So I played on my phone and rocked on the porch swing and eventually had my salad.

The crow came back. I gave them a crouton. And soon James was coming to get me to go to Haley's.

It wasn't a bad drive out. The GPS took us through the tunnel though and we got to see that the other direction was completely at a stand still because a tanker truck tipped over. Oil spill. Wild. It would effect us badly on the drive back to the city. But for now it was just nice to go visit a friend.

Hayley and her wife are moving next week. But even with all the boxes it was so lovely to hang out. Her baby, Ari, is a month old and very cute. It was interesting hearing her birth story and comparing notes. She had originally wanted a fully unmedicated natural labor, but with a breech, two week late baby, with a cord tangled around his torso, and 28 hours of labor, the whole thing quickly became an emergency c section. So she wasn't as prepared as I had felt going in. But she made it through and I'm excited to be on this journey with her.

Her sister Jess and her wife Ellie would soon be there too. And it was nice to all hang out and chat. Mostly talking about the babies. Their development and our healing and things we have been doing. It was a nice two hour hang out with promises to come back together soon. We can see their new duplex!

Our next stop was to see Anne. But because of the tunnel all the traffic was backed up everywhere. So it took us more then an hour to get to her. When it should have taken less then a half hour. James had had the forethought to feed Sylvia before we left, and I made sure she had a fresh diaper. And honestly it wasn't terrible. Just quiet time in the car, listening to a podcast. Watching the world go by.

When we got to the house it was good to see Anne. To give her something to smile about, holding and cuddling baby. We talked more real about Tucker. About what happens. A little him being cremated and putting him in dime bags. Creating a poster for his obituary. The party which has now become parties. How Anne keeps finding herself in the fetal position. To having to identify his body for the funeral home. To how much this all just sucks. But we try to be there for eachother. James had brought her a fresh loaf of bread. I made her laugh a few times. And gave her a very good hug, and didn't let her cut it short.

We would go home though, we still needed dinner and it's a baby bath night. So off we went.

When we got home me and Sylvia would go sit in the backyard. Her in her bouncer chair, me on the porch swing. James made me dinner and brought it outside. And eventually Sylvia needed more cuddles because she was getting tired. But we had to wait for the second loaf to come out of the oven before we could give her a bath.

But the bath would go fine. The getting dressed lead to a meltdown. Real tears, not breathing, scream crying. Mostly because the first onside we put on was to tight going over her head. And she just absolutely fell apart. It took multiple minutes of holding and shushing to soothe her to be able to eat.

And when I had to readjust and the bottle fell out of her mouth she was quick to cry again. Just going through it.

But I fed her half the bottle. And James the other half. And now she's snoring in her bassinet next to me. Just a little sweetie.

It's almost 9 now. And I'm so tired. I am going to try hard to not just scroll on phone for hours. I need to get some sleep. Like I feel nauseous I'm so tired.

Thankfully tomorrow is mostly a chill day. I don't have any real plans until 5. So I hope to work on collecting some gardening stuff. And just enjoying being out and being home with my baby.

I hope you all have a nice night. Sleep well. Hug your loved ones. Goodnight!

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

Thus did the Hair Bear Bunch explain themselves to Peter Potamus

Back at the La Jolla divers' camp of Peter Potamus, and by the fire pit of same even, only with the Hair Bear Bunch, preparing for a return to their Malibu Secret Surf and Dive Spot--again, in discussion with the ever-intrepid hippo:

HAIR BEAR, getting to explain himself: You know, Peter, with us bears, things can't help but become fascinating, and then some, with ourselves, especially since having to leave the confines of the faltering Wonderland Zoo some years back--and I say "faltering" in the sense that such was falling apart big time! SQUARE BEAR, adding to the whole: And blame two rather inept zookeepers named Botch and Peevly for more or less driving the zoo to the ground--deferred maintenance, mismanagement, blaming us for all that was going wrong-- HAIR BEAR: And before long, the zookeepers were having such a breakdown big time that they had to go into a sanitarium such as forced the zoo to close more or less. PETER POTAMUS, fascinated: I assume this explains how you managed to discover more of your inner bear, if I may say so? BUBI BEAR, ever the whippersnapper: Geez, you're certainly ever correct the clyde, what freedom, what release from those ever-intoxifying Botch and Peevly, beyond the constraints of the zoo! And what surfing, what diving, did we discover with former child actress Twinkles Sunshine! HAIR BEAR: Who, I will have you know, was actually Sylvia Barbanna, to use her real name; it turns out the Pinchpeny Pictures studio was faltering, especially after "Twinkles" had to be let go from her contract when her voice broke, followed by a hasty bankruptcy and her parents, who only wanted to see their Sylvie in the movies just to buy themselves out of welfare, being killed in a motor accident soon afterward ... and she was put up with foster parents for want of "fit and proper relatives" who could care for her ... and saw in her much more than a former child film star, especially suggesting that she take up surfing and diving! PETER POTAMUS: So that's where the surfing and diving angle was learned! SQUARE BEAR: Yeah; she was certainly quite a teacher in such fascinating crafts! HAIR BEAR: And she helped us find our secret spot to the north of Malibu. PETER POTAMUS: But then again, what explains your sexual prowess, especially those mating season road trips into "bear country"? HAIR BEAR: Credit "Charlie," more or less. As in she who lead the CB Bears in assignments all over; she lives now close to the Yosemite country, and Square, for some reason, led us through his Invisible Motorbike to her quarters out of whim ... eventually to discover the very wonder and delight as sex is, and as sex ought to be ... I can still recall my first time with "Charlie" sexually, thinking about it now ... she just felt so wonderful to mate with, what release from my loins was to ensue with her! PETER POTAMUS: And before long, such began the mating season road trip experiences, especially so the orgies! BUBI BEAR: Oh that's right, that's just a fascination and delight to be had, just letting those--[Square Bear puts his forepaw over Bubi's mouth] SQUARE BEAR, in the circumstances to hand: Uh, what exactly was Bubi saying? HAIR BEAR: Oh yeah, the mating season road trips just can't help but feel so interesting, just sensing the relaxing effect sex can bring about, as well as some diving on "the morning after the night before," as it were.... [And more where this came from, the sort unlikely to be of interest to the average reader and Old Hanna-Barberian]

[melodyfsoul1]

Okay Loki S2 E5 Reaction/ Review Time

SPOILERS AHEAD BEWARE

"Science / Fiction"

OH MY GOD THAT TITLE

I cant believe I was right about all of them being scattered across different time line branches, Loki having to get his friends back and them not having memories of him :O

Also the fact that the fans predicted Casey to be a dangerous / criminal because he was always so gentle in the TVA and then we see him breaking out of freaking Alcatraz?! And the fish references too XD

B15 being a Doctor was so freaking wholesome, she really just wants to help people whetevee she is :D

OB being a Scifi Author and Scientist was just perfect XDDDD

AND WE FINALLY GOT MOBIUS ON A JETSKI THIS IS A WIN FOR THE FANDOM

And again, the fact that the fans immediately predicted that Mobius was a (single) dad in his life, because they spotted a couple toys in front of the house in the mid season trailer :D

(I could literally hear the fanfiction authors melt into a puddle at the potential of Loki x single dad Mobius XD)

And the fact that he isnt just a Dad, no he is a SINGLE FATHER of TWO SONS

The freaking parallel of Mobius' two sons and young Thor & Loki?!

One being a lil mischievous prankster and the other (most likely the older) one who has to keep him out of trouble?! And the fact that he said he loves snakes?!?! That is just straight up a Thor reference?!

No wonder Mobius knows how to deal with people like Loki XD

But as much as I like the parallel of the two sons, I also feel kinda weird about what it could imply for Mobius, like does that mean he is supposed to be a mirror or opposite of Odin? A version of a dad that didnt mess up with their parenting? That this is why Loki feels drawn to Mobius? Is that what we were supposed to conclude from that?

I know we joke about Loki liking older men, and of course Loki has his daddy issues, but if Mobius is an opposite of Odin then what does that mean for Lokius?

Now to some more lore related stuff:

Can I just say that the spaghettification effect is absolutely terrifying?!?! (as stupid as it may sound) Seeing people get spaghettified fills me with just as much dread as the Dusting from the Snap, but it is so much more horrifying because it looks so brutal compared to how "gentle" the Dusting effect is....

Then Loki & Sylvie's talk about being selfish, about their own wants & needs

"Whats wrong with wanting sth?" -  she asks Loki, but in reality, has Loki ever gotten anything he truly desired? (At least L1130 hasnt, man went straight from the Events of Thor 1, to Thanos to the New York attack, he was never able to mend his relationship with Thor or find friends...)

Now... Sylvie, she still frustrates me.... I do get that she wants a life, but you cant just stab or ignore your way out of everything... plus their world is still ending as a matter fact...

It literally took her fav lil branch getting wiped out, to realize that she was wrong, that Loki was right all along, and that was AFTER she had just convinced Loki to give up his quest... because "wanting his friends back" would make him just as "selfish" as her wanting a life... But the difference is, that while Sylvie would chose her life, instead of helping fix everything, ignoring the casualties it brings, Loki would be self sacrificial enough to give up his own needs, which he literally was about to do, until Sylvie got back because she finally wanted to help avoid the impending doom that threatened to destroy them all.

I think we all kinda knew Loki's drive wasnt necessarily saving the TVA, but wanting/ needing his friends back and wanting to keep them save, but Loki actually admitting that he "wants his friends back, that he doesnt want to be alone"

THAT BROKE ME

Especially with the motive of "no one deserves to be alone" but the Lokis only ever having themselves to find comfort, and if they tried to change that, the TVA showed up to prune them, loneliness was literally what drove Classic Loki out of his hiding and into the arms of the TVA.

And Loki saying "Without them (his friends), where do I belong?"

I didnt know it was possible, but that broke me even more... he just wants a place where he is wanted and safe...

Then the time slipping, Loki being able to Control it?! IS THAT HOW THE MCU INTRODUCES LOKI BEING A WORLD WALKER?!

Loki realizing "Its not about the when, where or why. Its about the Who" (god that part was so sweet, right in the FEELS, it was so over for me, my heart cant take much more of this)

And finally Loki chosing to rewrite "The Story"... actually "Play God" thats now full confirmation of Loki God of Stories right?! RIGHT?! I wanna see my boy, God of Stories Loki is one of my Fave Lokis :DDDD

[cleabellanov]

Swifties!! You know coney island (feat. The National) right?

Well, hear me out.

Spoilers for Loki season 2 ahead!!!

For short, it's so Lokius (or just Loki's fate) after the end of season 2 it hurts.

And for long...

"Break my soul into two looking for you/ But you're right here".

Loki is looking over his friends...especially over Mobius, since we heard his voice echo at the end of time and making Loki manage a heartbreaking smile of acceptance. They're both looking for each other, because they're now separated, but they're RIGHT HERE at the same time.

"If I can't relate to you anymore, then who am I related to?"

The clear discrepance of Mobius's life at the TVA is given by him meeting Loki. After he leaves, there's no point for M to stay there anymore. So he leaves, because who is he related to now?

"And if this is the long haul how did we get here so soon"

OUUUCH! The long haul=a journey that takes a lot of time and effort. Isn't that what happened in S2E6, with Loki trying again and again to fix the Loom and save everyone? Oh yes it is! But it still seemed too soon when he had to leave, and to protect everyone with the cost of remaining alone.

"I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island, wondering 'where did my baby go' "

Mobius, at the end of the season, standing alone, letting time pass. He wasn't exactly on a bench in Coney Island, but I swear that's what he was wondering.

Sorry for not making you my centerfold

So, in the song, this apology is meant for something that is already over, a cause-effect situation.

But in my perspective, it can also be a resolution. Because Loki DID make the people she cared about the centerfold. And not only them, but those people, those lives HWR didn't care about. Now, they're the top page of the story Loki chose to rewrite and the burden he chose to bear. Until that moment, it didn't work out, no matter how hard he tried. But then the realisation hits in, after the conversation with Mobius in the time theatre. And the hardest, impossible choice is made.

Over and over

Lost again with no surprises

Dissapointments close your eyes

And it gets colder and colder

As the sun goes down"

The repetition both "over" and "colder" in the chorus feel like a call back to the finale's events. How, over and over, for centuries and only he knows how many tries, Loki tries to rewrite the story. To save his friends, yes, but also the existence of the Multiverse.

And that didn't work. Now, that the sun doesn't shine (BUT IT WILL. IT HAS TO.) it gets colder and colder. It's very important to note that the sun did shine on Mobius and Sylvie...but Loki wasn't there.

"Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?"

First, some synonyms, for better understanding (evermore will be evermore)

rogue=a dishonest person, a villain; coaxed= persuaded into doing something

This is the exact opposite of where we see Loki now. He's a hero. He's THE hero!! But the beautiful thing about this is how he evolved, how their character has one of, if not even the biggest, arcs in the MCU. The part I want to point out in this lyric is the first one, the question: Do you miss? Does she, without ever wanting to change anything, miss that rogue, the self that got her here? The one in Ragnarok, who was finally working things out with Thor? And the "left" too! Because he's here now, but there's...no one left next to him.

OK HERE IS MY FAVOURITE ONE

"Cause we were like the mall before the internet it was the one place to be

THE MISCHIEF, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams"

The mall before the internet? Like this disconnected place where you lose the notion of time? Like the TVA, with Loki and Mobius together, working on that TemPad, for example. It is the one place to be for them, and when together, they both try to protect it.

The mischieffff. Loki's betrayal, choosing to leave with Sylvie when Mobius trusted him in this mission. Him being the literal God of Mischief. The "Come on, you're the God of Mischief" from Mobius in s2e2. And this is not even the only mischief regarding them, it's the whole TVA in season 1 and how all of its workers were being lied to.

The gift wrap as an imaginery for them traveling through timelines to find Sylvie, then Ravonna and Miss Minutes. When this is sweet at first (or sticky as cracker jack hehe) but it turns out to be more. To be difficult. And overall, the whole theme of the song remisces their story and its beautiful, irregular flow.

"Were you waiting at our old spot/ In the tree line, by the gold clock/ Did I leave you hanging every single day?"

Our old spot.

In the tree line, by the gold clock.

What a charming way to hear Loki's choice to stay, and the place that happened, be described. Also, the timelines look like a tree. The gold clock, also representative for the tva.

PLUS Loki's throne at the end of time is literally the tree of life (Yggradsil).

"And when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name"

Because before Loki left, and walked up to the "podium" down to the loom, he didn't say goodbye. We got that in season 1. Not now.

"When the sun goes down / The sight that flashed before me was your face"

The sun going down is at a present time. It's still there, but it will be gone soon.

Yet the flash is in the past : it was. For the God of Stories, time is infinite, but that one "let time pass" from Mobius is SO important it got to Loki and made them smile. HE FUCKING SMILED. (alright maybe smile is not the word but if I choose to make myself believe that for my own comfort then so be it)

Alright, that's kinda it. I'll never listen to this song the same way <3

[musclesandhammering]

Kang is the World’s Most Ambitious Conman

Well, here we are. The end of the season. No idea what I’m gonna hyperfixate on when this is over. But since it’s the day before the finale, I wanna go ahead and get my final prediction out. This is what I genuinely think is going to be revealed in canon. If it doesn’t happen, feel free to clown me.

My theory is that there was never anything special about He Who Remains whatsoever. He wasn’t a particularly good inventor, he wasn’t a particularly good fighter, he wasn’t particularly powerful- he was just damn good at using other people as stepping stones.

I think he created all the technology in the TVA by reading A.D. Doug’s old books and papers and stealing his ideas. The “army” that he led in the multiversal war was really just variants of regular people he kidnapped from their timelines, and it wasn’t even led by him, it was led by Ravonna. He never “tamed” Alioth.. he used a Loki variant to enchant Alioth. After he did all this, he wiped all of their memories, threw the Loki variant back into the time stream, and kept the rest of them around as his military police, essentially- there to enforce his will and keep him in power.

Now as for what I think his plan was in regards to episode 1x06…

By now, it’s fairly apparent that he wanted to be killed so he could reincarnate (via a variant) and continue the cycle. But how exactly was that supposed to go?

Well, I think his plan was for Loki/Sylvie to become the quasi-leaders of the TVA after they killed him. He knew the loom meltdown would happen, and he specifically counted on Loki/Sylvie recruiting Victor Timely to help them stop it. That’s why he passed on his contingency plan to Miss Minutes. Because of she and Ravonna’s meddling in Victor’s life, by the time Loki/Sylvie came to him, he would already be primed to take HWR’s place. After the loom was saved, with Miss Minutes and Ravonna’s help, Victor was supposed to betray Loki/Sylvie and take power for himself. After that, there would still be the issue of all the other Kangs out there, so Victor would do exactly what HWR did before him: use OB’s tech, the TVA’s army, Ravonna’s leadership, and Loki/Sylvie’s magic to win the war. And there you have it! He’s right back on the throne as the next incarnation of He Who Remains.

That plan isn’t going to work in the show though. And there’s two main reasons:

Victor decides he doesn’t want to be an evil dictator. You can see in his face the moment Miss Minutes says “You’ll never be him.” that he perceived that with determination, instead of the disappointment she intended. As in: “you’re right, I’ll never be him. I want to be someone good.” And immediately after that, he goes and does something heroic to try to save everyone- and ends up dying for it (for now). And my how poetic it is for HWR to be foiled by one of his own variants expressing free will and choosing to be better than the story that was written for them.

Loki’s timeslipping. He Who Remains planned for one or both of the Lokis to kill him. He didn’t know the exact specifics of it. So Sylvie pushing Loki through a time door into the past TVA (which is what I think caused his timeslipping) probably isn’t something he anticipated. The timeslipping, of course, has a snowball effect, because it will eventually (as I’m sure we’ve all guessed by now) lead to Loki becoming the God of Stories. And the God of Stories will be strong enough to save the TVA, then assemble a team and defeat the rest of the Kangs.

It’s all very epic and convoluted and poetic. I think it makes perfect sense *guy applying clown makeup.jpeg*

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Another post-season ficlet

Last one before the finale (probably). Obviously spoilers for Loki.

Give Me a Choice (Let Me Choose You)

He finds Mobius, alone, sitting at his desk. He isn’t doing anything, just staring at the items on its surface, at the writing on the wall. The peaceful hum from the monitor at the other end of the room provides a reprieve from its previous heralding of the Loom’s explosion. The imbalance of the timelines is over, and a calm Loki struggles to appreciate has settled over the TVA.

“Are you ready to go?” Loki asks him tightly. He isn’t ready, himself. He’ll never be ready.

Mobius doesn’t look at him, just continues to stare at the contents of his desk. It unsettles Loki; he hasn’t known Mobius to take the time to be sentimental about anything except jet skis. 

“This is the only life I’ve ever known,” Mobius says softly. “I don’t know how to leave it.”

“He Who Remains took your life from you,” Loki says. “He took your memories from you. You didn’t get to choose this life.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t choose it now.” 

“The TVA has destroyed entire timelines’ worth of lives. It’s time to take a new path, and that starts by returning you all to your lives.” Loki says.

“Are you so eager to be rid of me?” Mobius’s voice rises, and he looks at Loki at last. 

“I didn’t say that,” Loki replies, surprised by Mobius’s sudden anger.

“You said you brought us all together in the past. You said you were trying to reverse the effects of the Loom exploding.”

“It didn’t work. It didn’t work, because that’s not actually what I was doing. I was being selfish. But now we’ve fixed the Loom, and the timelines, and it’s time to stop being selfish–”

“Those aren’t your words,” Mobius interrupts, eyeing him. “She told you it was selfish, didn’t she?”

Loki feels the irritation build in him now. He sees the old distrust return to Mobius’s eyes, that resentment of Sylvie he’d held when interrogating him after the TVA picked him and Sylvie up on Lamentis. He can hear the accusations, of conspiring with his other from the beginning, of betraying Mobius, of falling in love with Sylvie. He’d thought they were past this. 

Sitting here now, minutes before he has to say goodbye to Mobius forever, it hurts far more than it did then. Before he’d been confused, still sorting through his feelings for both of them. Now he is sure who he loves, and that person is glaring at him and using the last conversation they’re ever going to have to pick a fight with him. 

“So what if she did, Mobius?” He snaps. “She was right. I was selfish. I am. But I have to stop thinking about what I want. What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Who is she to accuse you of being selfish, when she caused the timelines to disintegrate? She refused to accept responsibility for her actions and the Loom exploded and she still thinks she can dictate what happens next for everyone. She told you everyone should return to their pasts, too, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “How is that any different than what He Who Remains did?”

Loki huffs and gets up, turning to leave. He doesn’t want this to be how they part, but there’s a lump in his throat, and crying in front of Mobius isn’t how he wants to end it, either. 

“Yeah, go back to her.” Mobius mutters darkly. Loki opens his mouth to respond, but finds he has nothing to say to that that won’t come out broken. 

He gets two steps to the door before he sees Sylvie in front of him. She stalks forward, halting his retreat.

“Sit down,” she orders him. She gives him a firm look that leaves no room for argument, then fixes the same expression on Mobius to keep him in place. Mobius looks frustrated but remains in his seat as Loki drops back into his own chair. Sylvie sits on the desk, glaring at both of them.

“First of all, don’t use me as an excuse to turn your heartbreak over leaving each other into a fight.” She says. Loki glances at Mobius, who meets his gaze briefly, looking a little guilty. Loki frowns at him apologetically before returning his gaze to Sylvie. 

“Second of all, I was wrong.” She says this to Loki. “You aren’t selfish for wanting to be with your friends. I’ve spent so long running, so long wanting to be free to just stay in one place, so long without anyone in my life that I’ve convinced myself I don’t need anyone. I assumed everyone else would want that, too, as soon as they knew the truth about He Who Remains and what he did. 

“I thought the right thing was to send you back to your past,” she says to Mobius. “But you’re right, not offering you a choice is just the same thing He Who Remains did, in reverse. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry. You should make your own decision.”

“What made you change your mind?” Mobius asks.

Sylvie frowns, embarrassed. “I was speaking with B-15. She’s staying, by the way.” Then she looks between them. “Don’t waste what might be your last words to each other by fighting. Seriously.” There’s a worrying look in her eyes, like she’s remembering something, and Loki isn’t sure he wants to know what it is. 

She gets off the desk and starts to walk away, but pauses. “Oh, and for what it’s worth,” she adds, glancing at Mobius. “There isn’t any romance here.” She gestures between herself and Loki. “Never has been.” She raises her eyebrows at Loki, and he smiles and shakes his head in agreement. Then she leaves them alone.

Loki forces himself to look at Mobius, though with Sylvie gone, the awkwardness in the cubicle has somehow increased. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki says, at the same time Mobius does, too. They smile tentatively at one another. 

“What do you want?” Loki asks him softly, heart in his throat. He isn’t sure he wants to hear Mobius’s answer, but just a moment ago he was arguing with his best friend, and before that, he had been convinced he was coming to tell Mobius goodbye. 

“What do you want?” Mobius counters.

Loki huffs, but it’s gentler than before, and he doesn’t break eye contact. “I asked you first,” he says, tone betraying his nerves as it shakes. He sees in Mobius’s gaze that the other man notices.

“You’re staying here.” Mobius murmurs; Loki nods, swallowing. Mobius searches his face, and then his eyes widen a fraction at whatever he sees there. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” Loki frowns, unable to look away, unable to even consider what Mobius could mean by that. Please, just tell me. Break my heart or restore it to life. I can’t wait any longer.

Mobius’s gaze softens impossibly further. “Loki. I love you. I have for a while, probably since before I was pruned. I want to be wherever you are, if that’s something you want.”

Loki stares at him. “Mobius,” he breathes. Suddenly, the distance between them is too much. He doesn’t know how he was ever going to let this man go back to the timeline, when the mere inches between their chairs is too far for him. He gets up, closing the distance between them. 

Mobius must be able to see his feelings on his face, because the agent reaches up when he’s close enough and cradles his face. Loki leans into the touch. “I love you, too. I want you to stay. I want you to stay with me.”

Mobius leans forward and kisses him. 

“Do you want to know something?” Mobius murmurs against his lips when they break apart, his eyes still closed. Loki hums in response. “There’s not a chance in hell you were going to get rid of me, even if I got as far as the timeline.”

The admission makes Loki’s heart twist in a wonderful way, and he kisses Mobius again. “I’m glad to hear it,” he whispers, “because I didn’t know how I was going to say goodbye to you again.”

Mobius frowns at the quiver in his voice and brushes his thumb over Loki’s cheek. Loki realizes he’s crying. 

“How many times did the timelines die?” Mobius asks softly, brows knitting together in concern.

“I lost count.” But he’d meant Mobius being pruned, too, and leaving him to go to the Citadel, and maybe even following Sylvie onto Lamentis. 

“It’s over.” Mobius assures him, pulling him down into an embrace. “And I’m staying.”

[katenepveu]

Palisade 25 spoilers behind the cut.

To borrow from my Discord posts:

Positive thoughts:

The moon side was amazing. Dre and Sylvi are killing it. I'm so excited for where their characters go--and taking Gur as a disadvantage-causing distraction? I gotta assume there's a plan to free him in some way, which will also be excellent.

I was really impressed with how seamless the slide into the outro was--I realize this seems like damning with faint praise, but that's a technically difficult thing to do!--and the outro itself was so satisfying.

Negative thoughts:

I mostly didn't enjoy the sun side. As I mentioned before, the amount of rules-lawyering arguing was not fun to me. And I couldn't get emotionally involved in Phrygian's impending death because of the certainty -- in a way it was like listening to S.I. at the end of PARTIZAN. Also I missed Ali who barely was involved at all, which made sense under the circumstances but was just another way that the whole thing was skewed.

And then after all that, Austin still had to bail them out with STEREOMA, so the rules-lawyering wasn't even that effective? (To be clear: I don't think he shouldn't have! It just made what led up to it feel even more futile.)

I'm not sorry the whole mission concept was attempted but I didn't enjoy the way it was executed. Hell of an outcome, though.