#like sure you interpreted them as brothers but they sure as hel did NOT

[eternalera]

christian linke: so anyways theyre just really good friends, roommates, partners, brothers even, got that?

riot animators:

christian linke: youre not gonna make them gay right?

riot animators:

[asatroende]

my beliefs

note: this doesnt speak for what swedish people are taught, these are my interpretations and personal beliefs as pertains to my faith

these also may be subject to change

general: - i believe that its our right to write new stories and myths that may be assigned canonicity to our practice  - i think that you dont have to be a witch to be religious and you dont need to buy anything to be religious, i think that people who make it seem like witchcraft and paganism are things that Have to be connected for every persons practice are conmen  - i do not believe in divination - i dont believe that you have to be in direct contact with gods or spirits to be “valid” in your religious practice, you arent lesser for not having direct contact and youre not special for having tea with a god - i personally dont think that direct contact is appropriate for my gods, this is not to say that i think people who do have direct contact are doing religion wrong, i just dont personally think its appropriate for my practice, i do however think accepting the possibility of direct contact with spirits like rå is essential to asatro - i believe that not everyone should have to worship the same gods or spirits equally, i live in a subarctic climate that freezes in winter and florida is Very different from southern sweden so my holidays and gods and spirits may not be as appropriate to venerate as other gods that handle hurricanes and idk alligators?  - as a continuation of the last one; even if the same gods and spirits are worshipped in name, it is allowed to worship them for different aspects, like storms of thor might be more generally applied to all weather (if we figured out some kind of thing like the greeks have with epithets thatd be amazing tho)

gods balder: its my interpretation that his death in the literature was only for the sake of dying, i believe that balder is a prophetic god of death that predicts who will die so that their journey to hels halls will be easy and painless höder: the same as his brother i believe hes a god of death, one that leads the dead to Hel just as he did his brother hel: i believe that she is kind and house all sorts of dead in her halls, all from human to gods to giants to animals and extinct plants, i worship her passively because one day ill enter her halls and its just polite  loke: i worship him in his capacity as an outcast, a giant amongst asa who feels blatantly mentally ill, i venerate him in his capacity as someone alive out of spite, someone who thrives out of spite, i do not act in my practice like he is bound under the snake völund: not recognised as a god by the literature i worship him as a god of modern technology and as an inventor, if my ancient pc ever dies his name is the first ill curse oden: i do not worship him and i do not trust him, he is closer to the rules of fae than man and i dont want to step on eggshells around any god of my worship frigg:  it feels obvious to say, but i believe that frigg and freja are two different goddesses, frigg to me is a competitive god whos best in crafts, not as good as elves and dwarves but almost their equal and in most crafts freja: i observe that folkvanger is something like a war settlement after the asa vana war, oden has his halls to collect soldiers and to keep the sides equal freja would also keep such a hall, i also worship her as a winter goddess of the returning light frej: summer god who represents the fertilising of fall harvest as well as the conception of kids around midsummer time as opposed to freja who would be the fertility of spring and childbirth, anthropologically its to be assumed that he goes to be with his frost giant wife for half the year and thats what makes winter but im not sure i believe that sigyrn: i dont worship her but she has my utmost love and respect as a goddess of compassion and kindness, i see her in nurses and loving teachers and in kind old grannies fenrir and garm: good boys

[lokislittlesigyn]

Eyes Wide Open - Loki Fanfiction [Oneshot]

Pairing: None. This is just Loki’s POV!

Warnings: Themes of depression/suicide. No happy ending. No fluff.

Author’s Note: This has been something I’ve wanted to write for a while.. I enjoy writing from Loki’s POV, and delving into his interpretations of things is endlessly interesting to me. Also, darling Cozy wrote an angst piece on this same time period of MCU Loki’s life, so.. Blame her for inspiring me to finish this. <3

we will return to fluff later this week. until then. PAIN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Loki fell, he didn’t look down.

He closed his eyes.

The first time Loki fell, Frigga caught him. He was young then. The brightness of youth still shining in his blue-green eyes, Loki climbed to the top of a tree in the royal gardens. 

“Watch me, brother!” Loki begged, grasping the branches and hoisting himself up. If he climbed high enough, maybe Thor would see him.

But Thor didn’t notice. Loki needed to climb higher. Then Thor would see. 

Loki raised himself to a shaky stand. The upper branches weren’t too far. He could reach them, he was sure of it. Pursing his lips, he reached for the next branch and tugged himself up. Up, toward the top of the small tree, until he laid over a branch, grinning to himself. 

“See, brother? See how tall I am now?” 

Thor didn’t respond, instead whacking away at troublesome weeds with his new sword.

Loki groaned. Pushed himself upright and slid down the branch, toward the end - the next-highest branch was within reach. Below him, the branch trembled. Just a bit farther-

The branch snapped.

Loki yelped, closing his eyes, feeling the leaves and small branches of the tree scratch his skin. He tensed, bracing himself for the fall - or, rather, the landing.

But no harsh landing came.

“Oh! Careful!” It was his mother’s voice.

Loki slowly opened his eyes. 

Frigga was holding him, her breath choppy. “Loki, what ever were you doing?”

“I-I..” Tears silenced him. Loki grabbed fistfuls of his mother’s dress and hair, hiding against her. Breathing in her light, floral scent, the same scent he fell asleep to as an infant. She felt familiar. She felt safe. 

The next time Loki fell, it was Thor who caught him.

By then Loki had grown, though lankiness clung to his limbs, and gauntness to his face. Now his eyes were full of promise - and mischief. He had an awkward build, and a crooked smile, and nowhere near the same strength as his brother. But he had magic, the seiðr his mother had taught him, and he wielded it with expertise. 

They were called to Nornheim, facing monsters the likes of which Loki had only ever seen in ancient books. Onward the troop advanced - the princes, flanked by their fellow warriors. An enormous dragon bellowed before them. Awakened from its home in a rocky crag, the beast now fought them at the top of a gorge.

“Watch out!” Cried Fandral. Loki, having just cast a burst of magic that made the beast retreat, looked up to see its tail whip around to meet them. The swift tail met it’s mark - Loki’s chest - and knocked him into the air, catapulting him backward, off the side of the gorge.

The ground was far away. Too far. Fear gripped Loki’s chest, and regret - again his eyes closed, like they had years before when he fell from the tree. 

Now a weight hit him, but it was not the ground. Instead it was Thor, flying through the air with Mjolnir, delivering them from the angry dragon. They reached the ground safely, and once his feet were firmly on the ground (though his knees still shook), Loki’s eyes opened. 

Thor gave a booming laugh, smacking Loki’s shoulder with a hand.

“Don’t worry, brother. I’ve got you.”

The last time Loki fell, no one was there to catch him.

His should-be red eyes (instead cloaked by magic to be the same oceanic tone as before), full of tears, watched his once-father and once-brother disappear into silhouettes - then to nothing. Then his eyes shut.

Despite the familiar crushing blackness rushing in around him, no warm embrace pulled him back to the light.

No, this was a long fall. Long, and cold, so cold that even his Jotun body felt sluggish.

Jotun.

Laufey’s son.

Loki choked back a sob, but the cold lingered. Cold that snaked tendrils of ice into his bones, cold that yanked the air from his breast. He wished the cold would leave. When it would end - when this fall would end, he did not know.

He hoped when it did, he would end, too.

Perhaps the Norns would have mercy on him. 

They would see the pain he felt, the disgraced and wretched mess of a fallen prince that he was, and put him out of his misery. No golden halls awaited him in the afterlife, he knew that much. He could settle for a quiet unexistence. In fact, he expected it: the bleakness of Hel likely awaited him. 

But then something happened that Loki did not expect.

He fell with purpose.

Rather than falling from, indeed, he was now falling to. To where, he did not know. But as he drifted through the cold, his fall quickened, just as the thud within his chest quickened in turn. Gravity, or something like it, grabbed hold of his body and pulled it down. Or up. He wasn’t sure of the direction. 

All too suddenly, he collided with the ground. The sound alone made him sick - the sound of flesh and bone crushed against unforgiving stone.

There was breathing - damaged, desperate wheezes for air, and it took him a moment to realize it was his. 

He coughed and a warm, metallic taste filled his mouth. The side of his face felt as though it had been caved in. As he winced through the searing pain and gasped for air that stung his lungs, Loki concluded he was definitely still alive. Pain was for the living.

But as his eyes slowly opened, his vision blurred and tinted red, he made out a figure before him. It stood hunched over face half covered with a low hood. The creature tilted its head and growled.

Something spoke. A voice from somewhere else. Deep, and low. “What has chance brought to me?”

“A mere derelict.” The hooded creature hissed. 

Loki winced, slowly sitting up with a grimace. Every sinew of his body shrieked in distaste at the movement, but he had to get upright. Heavy footsteps sounded, and as Loki’s vision focused, he realized a figure was descending the rocky staircase before him. Giant, imposing, cloaked in an air of danger that made his stomach turn.

Loki wanted to go home. He wanted to escape this horrible nightmare; to wake up and find himself in his mother’s arms, or his brother’s care. 

But as the figure towered over him, he realized: 

He was no longer a son of Frigga, and as such no beautiful queen would embrace him. 

He was no longer a brother of Thor, so neither would the god of thunder protect him.

And he was no longer a son of Odin, so no great king would rescue him. 

From now on, for the sake of survival, he would have to live with his eyes wide open.

[gayinfodump]

Baldur

Tis a tale of tragedy.

Yes, we’re back at Norse mythology. Buckle up, guys, gals, non-binary pals, and otherwise.

Because this bitch

is Baldur, the son of Odin and Frigg. And he’s actually not a bitch at all. He was a pretty cool dude.

Well, he started having these nightmares of tragedy and misfortune befalling him. When the dreams returned over and over again, he decided to consult his dad.

Dad, I had a nightmare.

Odin probably groaned and slowly opened an eye. Like any father, he was probably a little pissed at being woken up so early.

But dreams always had meanings, and Odin loved his son more than anything, so he listened.

Baldur described the terrible events of his dream, and Odin knew he had to consult a dream-interpreter. In this case, the dream-interpreter was already dead. Naturally.

She was a Seidr, which was basically the norse version of an oracle (don’t @ me, I’m kind of right).

Well, Odin found her in the realm of the dead, setting up a grand celebration. You know, the kind of feast that was reserved for kings, queens, gods, and special guests.

What is this for? Odin demanded.

The Seidr told him that the feast was being prepared for none other than Baldur, who was doomed to die soon.

Of course she shared this information rather casually, like, Oh, you haven’t heard?

Well, Odin hadn’t heard. Not until that moment. And he was not happy.

So, he went back up to Asgard and shared the unfortunate news with Frigg. Naturally, the goddess didn’t accept that her son was doomed to die soon. So, in a desperate attempt to save her son, she personally consulted every thing, living and otherwise, in the cosmos.

Being a goddess, she could do that.

Well, she made sure that every rock, plant, animal, creature, etc. made an oath not to harm Baldur. Not a single grain of sand in the cosmos could hurt a hair on her son’s head.

Finally, she was content.

Now, some legends say that she overlooked the mistletoe, simply because it hadn’t crossed her mind. Some legends say that she chose to ignore it, thinking that it couldn’t possibly hurt her son. Either way, mistletoe was the only thing in the universe that hadn’t given an oath.

Well, the trickster god, Loki, learned about this.

Yes, that’s him. Marvel lied to you. Again. Get over it.

But at least real Norse mythology bothered to make Loki canonically gender fluid. More on that later.

So, Loki fashioned a weapon (some say a dart, some say a spear) out of mistletoe.

Meanwhile, all the other gods were having the time of their lives. They threw rocks and knives at Baldur, and all of them bounced harmlessly off. It was like Baldur had been dipped in the river Styx.

Nope. Wrong mythology.

He brought the mistletoe weapon to the blind god Hodr (whose name literally means Slayer) and suggested he throw it at Baldur.

The guy is invincible now, Loki said. So you can participate in the fun. Go ahead, throw it at him!

Hodr thought this was a fine idea, so he threw the spear (or dart) at Baldur, killing him.

He did not win best friend of the year for that, but neither did Loki. All the onlookers were too shocked to do anything. They all felt immense anguish (all except you-know-who).

Frigg tasked Hermod, Baldur’s brother, with going to the realm of the dead and negotiating with Hel, hoping that she would be merciful enough to release him.

Hel, being her kind and generous self (Sarcasm. That’s sarcasm), decided to strike a deal. She said that if all living things in the cosmos would weep for Baldur, then she would release him. But if any living thing refused, he would remain in the realm of death.

So Hermod brought the news back, and everyone in the universe began to weep for the loss of Baldur. Everyone except one giantess, known as Tokk.

Now, Tokk was actually just Loki (because Loki is a gender fluid shape-shifter). She refused to weep for Baldur, and coldly exclaimed that Hel should keep him.

So, Baldur was stuck in the realm of the dead with the goddess Hel, who did her best to take care of him.

But what happened to Loki? Well, more on that later, if you enjoy hearing about gruesome punishments.

[summoner-kentauris]

What does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir? (You can either just answer or write a lil story if you feel like it)

OOOO now i have thought in my free time a fair amount about what líf thinks of zasha but, and i cannot believe this, i have not thought about what zacharias thinks about líf and thrasir. full disclosure, book III happened to be going on when i formally stopped playing feh. i kept up with the story after that but, theres my obligatory knowledge base disclaimer.

also minor cws through this whole thing because i talk here and there about zacharias and his... mm, canonical relationship to death/selfharm

-

so, i spent a lot of time thinking about this one, and i keep coming back to my gut reaction, which is that i don't think zacharias would like them very much. i dont know why i think that, though.

PART ONE

i think a lot of it would depend on how they approach him, which is maybe why i've spent more time thinking about the reverse of this ask, come to think of it. see, i think zacharias could go any which way in terms of what he thinks of them. i think he could hate them, as two people who killed versions of everyone he ever loved, including metaphorically killing off the two people closest to him.

i think he could love him, having seen the hell (ha ha literally) that they went through. understanding what that feels like. given the way he talks about his suicide attempts, and honestly that he spent most of book I trying to get people to kill him, really his whole relationship to death. i mean the man talks a lot about death and killing. he might not be the feh OC who best understands how manipulative and... whats a good word. alluring? what im trying to say is that besides eir, he might be the one most likely to understand why Hel and hel's offer appealed to líf and thrasir. i feel like this bit has a place here: "With his dying breath...he begged for his life. He called out your names! "I'll do anything you ask! Just let me live!" excepting of course that i still am not sure if i think he said/thought that or not. ive never been sure who really is in control of speaking right then and there. Anyway. Probably he could come to understand Líf and Thrasir's stance, enough that he could care about them the same ways he cares about his versions of Alfonse ann Veronica

on the other hand, i can see him being fully horrified by the choices those two made in response. this bit: Not anyone... This dark god...seeks death. And it cries for the destruction of Askr. Like. Líf and Thrasir are intentionally enacting the same thing as the dark god's desires, in order to correct a mistake they made that, uh, also enacted the same thing as dark god's desires. talk about awkward. and i think Zasha, who has lived with this nightmare in his head for so long, might recoil from people who are so directly aligned with it. who wants to be around someone who has become, who has chosen to become, everything you ever feared you'd be? especially when you're nearly drowning from the effort of fighting to stop yourself.

i could also see him meeting them and it being incredibly, incredibly bad for him. i feel like, he puts a whole lot of... mm. what am i trying to say.here:

Yet it is you that says this, dear friend, and so I must consider it. I see the faith reflected in your eyes. Perhaps it is possible...

SPEAKING OF BUNNY ZACHARIAS I ALSO THINK YOU COULD TAKE THE FOLLOWING:

You never change. All you see is a lofty goal, even if you lack the means to achieve it... The idea that gods would fall by the hand of man is a fantasy... and a preposterous one. This is a goal that even our ancestors Líf and Thrasir could not achieve.

setting aside the obligatory wtf zash i know you know your lore (fuck, maybe there is no killing the gods, maybe all Fire Emblem victories are temporary at best and Zenith is the only one who knows it. but i think, probably not), i think you could spin a very believable scenario where zacharias takes one look at these two ambitious, arrogant posers and absolutely refuses to speak to them any further.

so, part one, i think that zacharias could think any number of things about líf and thrasir. which i suppose means that i think he's fairly neutral on the subject of líf and thrasir. makes sense to me, i suppose. i feel like zacharias | bruno has practice (regardless of whether he's any good at it or not, or whether its any good for him) at holding and maintaining separate personas, so I don't think the fact that líf and thrasir were alfonse and veronica would necessarily be all that important to him.

which brings me to part ii

what happened to dead zenith zacharias

if zacharias is neutral on the subject, I think a lot of their relationship is going to pushed in one direction or another by líf and thrasir themselves.

and, complicating matters (when do I make things simple?), i think their approach to zacharias would of course depend on what happened to their zacharias. correct me if im wrong, but i dont think we have even a hint what happened to him.

there are three ish options I'm seeing. one: as dead world zenith is further along in its timeline and as zacharias claims he's almost out of time with his curse, other zacharias died due to that before the war with hel. i feel like scenario one is the most likely to lead to a good relationship between main zacharias and líf and thrasir.

two: mr. professional "knows plot relevant things out of knowhere" was the one who found out about angrboða's heart in the first place. especially given "As destruction took hold, we joined with Embla to seek the forbidden heart...", which to me sounds a lot like, "hel was kicking our ass then zacharias showed up and said we should go get this mystical plot object from embla". thrasir even says she and líf weren't allies before the world went to shit. anyway. hear me out here:

Yes. The heart is sealed within an Emblian blood temple. If that seal is broken, someone will die each time the heart beats... Those who perform the rite are the first to die.

Now. Líf claims he was the one who broke it open, but he also was present for the war that followed and only after was he killed and inducted into hel's army. so. both of those things can't be true. i propose that the magic mcguffin located in a sealed emblian blood temple was unlocked by our dear zacharias and thats what killed him in other zenith. i think its possible that other veronica was the one who did it, but you know. its all imagination at this point. also, and i forgot this, but thrasir does go off about how she can't lose until she saves her brother, so. something especially tragic happened at least. and oh boy is scenario two a nice fresh tasty tragedy. so that's scenario two. other zacharias directly died as a result of attempts to fight hel

number three thing that could have happened to zach is boring. he's always off doing things, he could have just died off screen. i mean. everyone did, eventually.

frankly he could still be alive for all i know. the heart appears to take the lives of people in the world, not of the world, or else the summoner would have been fine. so, if zacharias was on one of his off world jaunts, he could conceivably be a-okay. well. as okay as someone who's whole world died. i don't think that's what happened, because thrasir is pretty clear about feeling that she failed him, but yknow.

líf and thrasir's reactions to the above

thrasir is i think the most straightforward. i can't really see her approaching main zacharias with anything but positive intent. even if she's only a little bit open, i think thrasir and zacharias will probably have a decently tolerable relationship. if zacharias can come back to a country that exiled him as a kid and let his mother die in a dungeon and then go on to not just befriend but protect and care for a half sister he didnt know before then, then i think he'll find a way to care about thrasir. you know, intsys could have had fun making another perpetual older brother character. as i understand it, xander gets brother'd a lot, he and zach could have talked. could have been fun. a whole, zacharias, a historically traumatized child: *arrives in a world* every currently traumatized kid in a five mile radius: oh shit this one's ours now. you know what im saying? found family except zacharias would very much like it to stop finding him. he's got important brooding to do. but anway, they didn't go that route and its a tragedy.

líf is... more complicated. i think scenario one creates the most positive outlook. i can see him still having guilt over zacharias' loss, but i think any of it would be overshadowed by everything else that happened. in this scenario, líf finally gets back a piece of the world he'd lost. yeah, it's not his zacharias, but still. it is a zacharias, who is living and breathing and frowning and asking why you are staring at me, knight. i think the two of them could get along rather well, although i see them having significant issues with pessimism. inch-restingly enough... the dark curse bades its hosts to kill askrans. and líf is, well. dead. so... perhaps... perhaps líf wouldn't trigger the curse like alfonse does. in that case, not only does líf get someone back he thought he'd never see again, but so does zacharias.

scenario two is just a nightmare. frankly, i initially thought this scenario would lead to líf just ignoring zacharias (out of guilt, pain, etc), but i was rereading the scripts looking for the spelling of angrboða and this came up:

Tell Hel. She'll erase those memories. She'll erase them all...

so, honestly? i think that in scenario two líf just straight up gets hel to remove his memories of zacharias (as an aside maybe this is also why he never ever ever talks about other anna >:{ )

in that case, líf wouldn't really have any reason to talk to this man, who causes this empty deeply sad feeling to well up in him for now discernible reason. and zacharias has no reason (or time) to talk to this standoffish general of the dead. so. that's a real ships in the night moment.

number three i think líf would still hold the same guilt as in number two, but i don't think it would be as horrifically tragic, so i think it's more likely he'd be willing to approach zacharias. he does appear to have even worse of a thing than alfonse about not opening oneself up to people, but i think that even if he's líf, he once was an alfonse, and being that this is me answering this, i don't think any alfonse can really keep away from a zacharias for very long. its a version of the person who once knew him as well as any other person in the world. like líf can't really seem to stop himself from associating with main sharena, i don't think he could stop himself from reaching out in his own way to main zacharias. and god does that man need some more friends. i think zacharias would probably be a little frightened of líf, and of what an alfonse could become. but i think probably... i feel like a lot of book i issues stem from the fact that, justified or not, zacharias thinks alfonse would risk anything, any harm to save him. i don't know that confronting an alfonse who literally risked everything and did all harm to save his world would be a comfort, but i do think zacharias would get a lot out of having someone who's already done the worst they can do. been there, done that, got the tshirt. i think zacharias would be a little afraid of what an alfonse could become, but i think he would no longer have to be afraid of... no, anxious about it. i think there's a kind of calm in having something confirmed that zacharias could appreciate. healthy? unhealthy? fuck if i know. i also think that in líf, zacharias has a friend who he can't physically hurt anymore. lífs already dead. been there done there got the.... glowing gel torso. i think, curse nonewithstanding, zacharias will always have some degree of tension and fear about hurting people he's in a relationship with, be that because of his issues with abandonment, of abandoning, of harm, etc. but you know. líf's kind of a rock. and he's already hit his rock bottom, now that i'm thinking about rocks. i think that kind of steady, placid deathness could really help zacharias. and i think he would find it soothing, whether or not he knew why.

plus he will be able to know that if the curse gets him, if he dies... he'll still have a friend in the realm of the dead. he doesnt have to be so afraid of leaving and getting left

so there we go! lots of musings. i have been thinkin about why my headcanons are less that and more elaborate branching theories, and i think it is because i would change my opinion depending on which story i wanted to tell or hear or see.so yeah. dunno which one of these answers belongs to the question, what does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir?, but hopefully at least one of them is interesting to read about!

OH also. i think he would be petty-ly annoyed about them cribing líf and thrasir's name. like full on scholar petty. probably showed up to the order in a nerdy huff excited to meet the actual factual líf and thrasir and turns out its just those two, sitting around glowing and reciting death metal lyrics like they're spoken word ballads. dont think he'd get over that ever.

[nygmobblepot-trash]

Untitled Story (part 2 out of ???)

Buckle up for this boys and girls. Apparently I had a lot of pent up anger that I just let out in this chapter. By the time I got to end I was tearing up for some reason. :)

*******************************************************************************************

Strange watched tiredly as his monitors awoke from being asleep for weeks. He was constantly collecting data, reading and interpreting it was another story.

“You’re tracking the Tesseract’s energy?! That’s so smart, you can see every place he goes and for how long. You could make a map and try to figure out if there is a pattern.” Strange watched as Peter’s eyes lit up with an excitement he hadn’t seen or even felt for years. Without looking at the screen or keyboard Strange brought up the map Peter was talking about.

“Oh. Of course you already thought about doing that... sorry.” Peter then became visibly confused. “I-I don’t understand. Why would he still be in the same place? It’s been more than a week. According to your graphs he hasn’t been in more than one place longer than 3 days.”

“You’re must be reading it wrong or the machine is busted.” Strange turned back to the screen to make his own observations.

“No the boy is right. You would have missed your chance if we had not come here and dragged your sorry ass off that ugly floor. Where is the Ant Man? You said we would need him to get to Loki. We should not waste anymore time.” Now it was Thor’s turn to be excited. 

Strange spun his chair around to face Thor. “Don’t be stupid. This is obviously a trap. I know you are used to doing whatever the hell you want, but that is not going to happen while you are with me. I make the decisions here, not you. I will not allow you to make things worse, because you think you need to save that person. He’s not even your brother. He’s just an asshole from a different universe. Your Loki is dead. He is dead and he is never coming back. You cannot and will not use this one to replace what you have lost.” Stephen was not conscious of the words coming out of his mouth if he had been he would have stopped way sooner. When he finally realized what he had done he was standing face to face with the God with his finger placed on his chest.

‘Shit.’ He thought.

Peter stood up and started talking... too fast for Strange to even begin to understand. He was probably trying to talk Thor out of killing him.

Thor just stood there not saying a word. He only smiled. Stephen couldn’t see his eyes behind those stupid black sunglasses Thor wore to hide any emotion. When did he even put those on?

Suddenly Thor came to life and twisted Stephen’s shaking hand. He spoke still with a cruel smile,”Listen here, Wizard. I am not listening to person responsible for everyone who died during that purple bastards war path. You told me you keep a watch list of beings from other realms that might be a threat to this one. You said Loki was on that list and you knew the second he was on Earth. Do you honestly expect me to believe that Thanos was not on that list. You know the guy who made it know that he wanted to collect the infinity stones to kill half the universe. Loki told me there was a bigger threat. I did not listen, but Tony did and he constantly worried about it. Tony worked to fight him. What did you do? Huh!? Tell me Wizard!” With every word Thor and gripped Strange’s hand tighter and tighter then he began twisting it.

“Thor stop, you’re going to break his hand!” Peter desperately pleaded with the God. Strange didn’t think Thor could even hear the boy anymore or even feel him as Peter tried his best to pry Thor away. 

Stephen tried to answer, but the pain was too great. “...I-I.”

It became obvious Thor was not going to release his hand until he received an answer so Stephen tried again with a sharp inhale. “I didn’t think... h-he’d come... so... soon. I-I thought, I thought I had more time!” Strange yelled as the pain became too great.

“You didn’t see him coming?” Thor asked with a laugh. He let go of Stephen’s hand in favor of grabbing him by his outfit and slamming him into the wall. “You had the time stone. What do you mean that you couldn’t see him coming? So either you did not use the time stone to see future threats or you watched him kill those innocent Asgardians, my best friend, and Loki and thought that was perfectly alright because he hadn’t interfered with your precious Earth yet. Or even better you had watched the entire thing play out and only pretended to look at the possible futures for the first time with Peter and Tony.”

“...Yeah why did you wait so long to use the time stone?” Peter had stopped trying to help Strange. 

‘You’re fucked now. Why does he feel so strongly about Loki? If it had been him who died, I doubt Loki would even blink an eye let alone get revenge. He would hide and wait for someone else to take care of the issue. But that is besides the point. Why did you wait?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

“If you could see every terrible thing out there in the world and all the horrible things they could do, knowing that you had no chance in beating them, you would lock the damn thing away, and try to forget the nightmares that would soon become reality. I knew of Thanos. I knew of the Hell he would bring. I also knew we stood no chance. I decided to deal with the more beatable ones until I could figure out what to do. I didn’t tell Stark, because I knew what he would drive himself mad trying to create an armor to save himself. There was no point. Speaking of people who knew. What about Odin? I’m sure the God of Gods knew of Thanos. Why didn’t he try to stop him?” Stephen added the final blow with a smile.

‘Stop digging this hole.’

Thor spoke softer than he had all day. “My father kept a lot of secrets. It seems like everything was a lie or a secret. I thought I knew him, but now I understand I know nothing. Hel Loki knew more than I do. As much as I want to throw you through this wall for insulting him, I cannot defend him. I’m sure he had his reasons, but I do not know what they were. Maybe he was a coward like you or wanted to avoid the conflict for as long as possible. Odin is dead, but you and I are not. We must atone for our mistakes. I regret most of my past and I will do my best so that my future will not have the same fate. You on the other hand want someone to tell you that you did a wonderful job and that you made the right choices. You want someone to take those deaths off your conscience. I will not be that person, Strange. You have to live with your mistakes like everyone else. I hope eventually you will be able to live with yourself again. All the other Avengers are doing that. Quill and the Guardians were able to being Gamora back into their family. Steve lived the life he should have had in the first place. Clint has his family back. Bruce has made peace with the Hulk. Natasha, Tony, and I have not got our happy endings. You took that away. I’m going to make sure it happens and it is not selfish to do so. I do not need you, so if you are going to continue to stand in my way we can settle this here and now.” 

“I’m trying to fix my mistakes Thor. I am afraid to make more. I do not want you to make anymore either. As much as I want everyone to have a good ending, life is never so kind to allow it. There are consequences for everything we do. I do not see how you will be able to achieve all of this without making the universe suffer. I do not want to be the bad guy, but if I have to fight you to make sure the universe does not suffer I will. In one of the futures I saw you bear the gauntlet. What you wanted collapsed the universe. Please listen to reason Thor.”

“Alright then, you made your choice.” Thor said devoid of any emotion.

As Thor released one of his hands to summon Stormbreaker, Peter grabbed Thor’s arm and yelled, “H-Hey! Calm down both of you, please! Killing each other will only make things worse. You both have good points so can’t we compromise?”

“No.” Both men answered in unison not breaking eye contact.

“No shut up! You’re both Avengers why are you fighting each other?”

“As I recall the first time you met the Avengers they were fighting each other.” Stephen was quick to add.

“That’s not fair first of all. Second of all... Thor do you think Natasha or Tony would want you to do this?” Peter’s muffled voice came out from under Thor’s arm as he was still holding on for what seemed like dear life.

“Tony started that fight because Steve wanted to protect the man who killed his parents. I think Tony would be happy if I killed the man responsible for taking him away from his family.” Thor’s voice started to break. “Loki would be angry that it was me who bested the Wizard instead of him.” A sad smile came to Thor’s lips. Strange swear he could see tears start to build up behind the sunglasses. “Heimdall would tell me that I am acting like a spoiled child rather than a wise king.”

“Wait whose Heimdall?” Peter asked lifting his face above Thor’s arm.

“Natasha...” Thor now struggled to get his words out. “Natasha would tell me it is okay and to not worry about her. She would not approve of this either. Strange I will figure out a way to bring them back without damning this universe to Hel. They did not give up on us so we cannot give up on them. I will help you fix what Loki has done, but I ask you to allow me to do something good. You do not have to help me, but please do not stand in my way.”

“I suppose we can work together until what Loki has caused is fixed. After that we’ll see if we can agree on what to do next.” Strange slowly raised his unbroken hand. “Deal?”

Instead of shaking his hand, Thor dropped Strange without another word and slowly lowered the arm that Peter clung to. 

“I guess I’ll take that as a yes.” Strange sighed.

“Thank God.” Peter released the breath and stressed he didn’t know he had been holding and collapsed on the floor next to Stephen. 

“Why do you guys only call me when you’re trying to kill each other?” A familiar voice whined on the other side of the room.

Scott and Peter looked up to see Scott looking annoyed. Thor still hadn’t moved since he set Peter down. 

Scott waved his coffee around as he talked. “How come no one says, ‘Hi Scott we are going out for Tacos and we want you to come because you’re apart of the time and we like you. It’s kind of our fault that your under house arrest and all so we’d like to make it up to you.’ Don’t get me wrong I would do anything for Ste- I mean Cap. He said I could call him that. Because we are good friends and- hey is he okay?” Scott finally noticed Thor and how he still hadn’t moved. “How you doing Buddy?” Scott asked Thor like he was talking to a 3 year old and started to reach his hand out to pat Thor on the back to Peter’s horror. 

“Scott, you’re here to set up the universe travel thing for Strange... remember? Can you show me how it works?” Peter jumped up and pulled Scott away before he could make contact with the unpredictable mess Thor currently was. He didn’t want to leave Thor and Strange alone together, but leaving Scott in the room would only guarantee a fight. 

“...I guess I could.” Scott slowly made his way past Thor and to the other room where his equipment was. Before he was completely out of the room he glanced back at Thor. “I definitely need to know what is going on with that though. He’s freaking me out.”

“Yeah he’s scaring everyone today, it’s okay.” Peter shoved Scott forward out of the room. “Please behave you guys.” Peter added as he left.

Stephen directed his attention to Thor. “Are you broken or what?” When he didn’t get a response he decided it would be a good idea to throw a loose screw at Thor’s head. 

Throw grabbed his glasses and broke them. He then threw them at Stephen. “I was trying to calm myself. Bruce taught me some breathing techniques to use when I get angry. I told him of course that it was stupid and I would never use it. But now I see the point. He must use it to stop ripping people like you to shreds.” He stretched his hand out to Strange.

“You’d lose.” Strange said standing without Thor’s help.

“I’d never lose to a coward.” Thor smiled and without another word left to join Scott and Peter, leaving Strange and his broken hand alone.

*******************************************************************************************

“-need to test it. I tested it last time, so I’m not doing it this time.” Scott stopped when he realized Thor had joined them. “Hey Thor you look like you’re not scared of death why don’t you test this.”

“Scott-” Peter was in the process of telling Scott of how much of a bad idea that was when Thor interrupted.

“Alright.”

“Awesome, go get your suit on and we’ll see if I hooked this thing up correctly, sound good, big buy?” Scott ran over and grabbed Thor’s suit.

As Peter heard Thor pass Strange on his way to change he heard them say some incredibly not so nice things to each other. “This is a bad idea and we should stop now.” Peter whined as he brought his hands to his face.

“It’s too late for that.” Strange yelled from the other room.

Eventually Thor came back into the room. “Alright just stand on that pad and give me a second. I need to figure out where to send you where you won’t cause damage.

Strange laughed from somewhere else in the Sanctum.

“How about...” Thor proceeded to give a very specific time.

“Why that one?” Scott asked.

“Why not?” Thor shrugged.

“Okay obviously we shouldn’t do that one.” Peter told Scott.

“What’s the worse he could do in a few seconds? It may not even work.” 

“Scott no.” Peter pleaded.

Thor smiled sweetly.

“Aw look it that face. I trust him. You got it Buddy!” Scott quickly typed in the coordinates and time and pushed the go button before Peter could stop him.

“Scott!” Peter yelled.

“Dude i’m going to listen to a God over you. Strange may have a death wish, but I do not.”

*******************************************************************************************

Thor once again felt the familiar pull of being ripped from his current point in time to one that had already unfolded. 10 seconds ago Thor was sure he wanted to do this. Now he wasn’t so sure as he felt his feet hit solid ground again. He didn’t dare open his eyes. He knew the irony of his actions. He had been yelling at Strange all day for being a coward and now he couldn’t open his eyes and witness his nightmare yet again. He couldn’t change anything in the nightmare, but now he could. He just needed to open his eyes and rip off the return switch off his suit.

“Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same.” A voice pierced through Thor’s thoughts. Normally those words would be the last thing he would before he woke drenched in sweat and tears. These words would wake him up again, but instead of seeing his tv displaying a game he fell asleep during he saw a ship on fire and some rubble. 

Thor slowly stood until he could see over the rubble. He had to know. Loki threw his life away to save his. Something had to have happened that Thor missed. It happened when Thanos was giving his speech. 

Once over the rubble Thor could see that he was behind Thanos. Thanos did stand where Thor was moments ago before he dragged past Thor closer to his captive brother.

He looked past Thanos to his goons who were entranced by what their dipshit ruler was saying.

Thor remembered he didn’t have much time left and as searched for Loki he grabbed his return switch. He stopped when he realized Loki was staring right back him. Tears quickly fell from Thor’s tear ducts and made their way down his face.

He wanted to tell Loki not to worry because his big brother would protect him like he promised all those years ago. That everything would turn out okay this time. It was and still is a good idea for Loki to go to Earth.

He watched Loki’s expression change like he had a million times in his dreams. Loki then turned his head to Thanos.

Thor’s finger’s brushed up against his return switch as he felt himself be pulled away.

When he saw Strange, Peter, and Scott all arguing he screamed. “NO, I COULD HAVE SAVED HIM!”

“Thor what did you do?” Peter asked calmly as he could.

“Nothing. I could have if you just let me-” Thor dropped to the floor in defeat.

“No you could have screwed us all. We made a deal. You can’t pull crap like this anymore. I wondered what that time could be. Your lucky I figured it out and pulled you out when I did.” Strange scolded. He then turned to Scott.

“Hey sometimes the button sticks! I tried to pull him out sooner.” Scott threw his hands in the air.

“We know it works now. I would like to get this mission over as soon as possible, so everyone get ready.” Strange said as he walked out.

“Shouldn’t we get more people?” Peter asked when he realized Strange and Thor would kill each other if they went alone.

“You’re not going, kid?” Scott asked surprised.

Peter felt his stomach drop. “I-I...” The fights with Thanos and Beck popped into his head.

Scott quickly put his hand on Peter’s shoulder bring him back to reality. “Hey don’t worry about it. I need help watching and controlling everything anyways. I’m sure those two will be fine.” Scott smiled reassuringly.

Peter looked back at Thor who was still having a break down on the floor.

“I’ll go in there if things get ugly, okay?” Scott pat Peter on the head and walked over to Thor. “We’ll find a way Buddy. Just hold on a little longer.”

Thor cleared the tears from his face and nodded. “Thank you not currently tiny man.”

*******************************************************************************************

[veinereastath]

The Church bathed in sinner’s blood: one-shot.

Here we go, another one. This time with all three brothers, but mostly John and Jacob, because you know me and what I really like. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) WARNING: There is a lot of abuse in it. Also, quite suggestive John and Jacob. Word count: 3416 You can also read it here, on my AO3, along with three other one-shots: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441507/chapters/41331845

    She slipped quietly between the buildings in Joseph's compound, avoiding the sight of the passing Peggies. Conditions were favorable - the night was starless, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds. The only source of light was given by burning here and there bonfires. Good. Even though there were few dogs scanning the area, she managed to slip through them unnoticed. She was favored by the wind direction, which she always paid attention to. Everything was going well. Everything was in perfect order. She didn't see Joseph anywhere - she suspected that he was in the church she was just trying to get into. But she hoped that she was wrong this time, and The Father was somewhere else. She didn't wanted to confront him, not yet, definitely not this night. She wanted to get rid of John and Jacob first. Faith was already just a memory, but Joseph's brothers were still a huge threat to everyone in the County.

    And suddenly she froze in place, laying flat on the ground, near the church. Because among the black, quite sleepy dogs, she could see the characteristic glow of silver fur. A wolf, much larger than the average one. With a red cross on its face and the characteristic aura of Bliss surrounding its body. A Judge. She never saw Judges on Joseph's island. Nearly all of them were in the Whitetails. Two times she saw them in the Valley, once in the Henbane. But here? Did Jacob decide to give his brother a present?

   And then she understood. She saw tho hunters in their red masks, standing near the dock. They were talking to each other, not really paying attention to what was happening around them. They probably felt safe, since no one before tried to slip to this compound. It probably meant getting killed on spot. It seemed that they would shoot first, and then ask questions. Getting so close to this place wouldn't go unnoticed, she realized. She may be able to get into that church without a problem, but what about getting out and escaping? 

  And most of all... If there as a Judge here, and two hunters, something important was probably happening in this place. Maybe the whole family decided to gather around and decide what to do after Faith's dead from the Deputy's hands. Maybe they already decided what to do with her, she could only guess. But at this point she was nearly sure that Jacob was somewhere around this place. Maybe John was too, she didn't know. There were no signs of him. It was too late to go back now anyway. She waited for the Judge to dissapearfrom her sight and silently went around the church. She was looking for a window somewhere. She knew that most of them were obscured, but she hoped that she might manage to get around this problem somehow. And with a mild surprise she noticed that two of the windows enabled her to come inside. She paused for a moment and thought about it - it looked suspicious and it was obvious. But she was also aware that there was something in the church that could change the course of this war and help the Resistance. According to reports, key information about the activities of the Eden's Gate was hidden inside the book that layed on Joseph's pedestal. All she had to do was get the book and quickly disappear from the compound, before anyone will manage to get her. Or kill, if someone decides to shoot her first, and then realizes that maybe it would be better to interrogate her.

    The struggle against the mechanism of the window took her a few stressful minutes, during which she almost got a heart attack several times. In the end, however, she slipped inside, bending her legs to land as light as possible on the wooden floor. The church was empty, illuminated only with the symbol of Eden's Gate on the top of the wall. Emptiness. There were no signs that someone has been here recently. There was a characteristic smell of dust and something sweet in the air - maybe Bliss, she wasn't sure. She didn't feel dizzy, so it might have been something else.

    However, the book of Joseph was in its usual place. It almost seemed to call her, begging her to come closer. Rookie hesitantly approached the pedestal, trying not to make any noise, nervously glancing behind her to make sure that nobody is trying to get inside at the moment. If she was noticed, it would be the end of everything she worked for. This time she surely wouldn't be able to escape. Jacob was letting her to do so because he could always get her back anyway. John, on the other hand, was way to careless, and that's why she managed to escape his bunker after the second kidnapping. But Joseph was quite unpredictable. And she was basically in his home, where she shouldn't be, considering her status in the Resistance. She began to read notes on the actions of the cult, indeed found between the book's pages, feeling their hands tremble. She wanted to get out of here already.

    "Have you read these words before?"

    She froze, recognizing the voice of Joseph. She swallowed hard and closed the book, turning her eyes to him, seeing him approach her. Instinctively, she took a step back, extending her hand towards the bow suspended on her back. Joseph was unarmed, without his goddamn shirt on, looking at her through yellow aviators. He didn't seem angry. He was neutral, but cautious.

    "Have you tried to understand them? Their meaning? Did you feel something in your heart clench, when you realize the truth behind them? Behind my Word?"

     "Interpretation of literature has never been my strong point."  She answered, trying to remain calm. She was here alone, just with Joseph, who was indeed unarmed, but he had this disturbing aura that make her felt naked and helpless, even though she had also a pistol and a knife in her thigh holster. She grasped the bow with her fingers, trying to take it off her back, ready to take even the most risky actions. One arrow could make it all end. One arrow and probably her life as well. Cultists would kill her in a most painful way imaginable when they would see what the had done. Was it worth it? Probably. Did she have courage to do it, though? She wasn't sure. Deep inside, she was a coward. No matter how many life she took, how bravely she tried to act, refusing to confess or trying to win the fight with Jacob's conditioning. There was always fear inside of her.

    But soon she realized that she couldn't kill Joseph, because he wasn't alone. John came out of the darkness like a stray cat, with his hands behind his back. His blue eyes shone ominously in the half-light. He looked at her enigmatically abd she was not sure if he wanted to kill her at this point, or to torture her first. She knew, however, that she was in a bad situation. She didn't think she would find John in compound. She saw two hunters and Judge before, evidently indicating that the eldest of three brothers was here. Where was he then?

    She already knew.

    Taking two more steps back, she stepped off the platform, slowly turning her head back. Jacob blocked access to the exit from the church. Deputy understood that she had no chance for escape. Tensing the bowstring and getting the arrow on it would take her maybe a second and a half. Too long - Jacob had a knife and his characteristic red gun in his holster. John probably hid something under a long trench coat. She had no chance. They would react faster.

    "You have deviated from the path that is right for you, but do not worry, my child. We will help you find it once again."  Joseph's voice was calm, too calm. Sweet and disturbing, it made the woman sick. Her hands trembled a little, so she clenched them into fists. She already knew what was coming. She realized it when she glanced at John, only to see his eerie smile. He seemed amused and she knew why. He will get what he wanted. He will get to put a knife in her body and make her scream.

    "No."  She denied with a growl in her voice. She looked behind her back again, seeing that Jacob come closer. Instinctively, she tried to reach for her knife - she didn't make it, though. The oldest Seed brother was faster and painfully grabbed her wrist, throwing the knife aside, also depriving her of the pistol and pulling off the bow of her back. He grabbed both of her hands, holding them in an iron grip behind her. The woman tried to struggle, gritting her teeth furiously. "I do not agree to take part in your fucking rituals." She hissed, still trying to remain calm. Bark, hiss, but without shouting, without screaming. It would only please them, she knew it. She throwed her head up, trying in this way to brush away the strands of hair falling on her face. "You know very well who I am and that you can't change me. YOU KNOW IT."

    Joseph didn't react in any way. He looked at her calmly, then turned to his brother. "Jacob."     The Soldier tried to pull her down. However, when Deputy didn't give in, he painfully kicked her in the inner side of the knee. The woman clenched her teeth, suppressing the scream and forced to kneel, still feeling Jacob's hands gripping her iown, painfully twisted behind her back. She looked to her right, out of the corner of her eye noticing his thigh holster. So close, yet... So far away. She was sure that Jacob was smiling mockingly, even though she couldn't see his face.

    And then John started to come closer. He had a knife in his hand. And oh god, he was smiling, as always. She would give everything to wash that smile of his face. He knew what she was thinking, somehow every member of this damn family always knew what she was thinking about and they surely were proud of it. Always one step ahead of her. Always on top. Kings of the world.

    "Hello, Deputy." The youngest Seed kneeled in fron of her, still smiling, playing with the knife in his hand. "I truly missed you. And I realized... I still don't know your name." He looked at her curiously and clicked his tongue, then asked mockingly. "Will you do me the honor and reveal this secret?"

    She smiled coldly at the corner of her mouth. "Not in your wildest dreams." 

    Youngest Seed closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. Jacob shifted from foot to foot, apparently not too interested in the conversation, even a bit irritated. "John, don't play with food."  He muttered with a hint of amusement, squeezing the woman's wrists harder as soon as she tried to struggle again. "Especially that this one likes to bite."

    "In that case, I will cut off her teeth."  He replied nonchalantly, then with one stroke of the knife he cut the left arm of her t-shirt, then pulling the blouse off her shoulders. He looked her in the eye. She felt trapped in his - the light blue iris of his had an almost hypnotizing effect. "This is really gonna hurt, my dear."

    "Pain for pain."  She replied bitterly, smiling slightly, mockingly. "Yours is gonna be much worse. This is the promise I can give you."

    "I would like to see you try."  And this was the last thing he said, right before he drove the knife into her collarbone, slowly engraving the first letter in her body. The pain hit her suddenly. The woman hissed, suppressing the squeak of a frightened child, nailing her fingers in Jacob's hand that held her wrists. She let the air out of her lungs slowly, feeling the warm blood run down her chest. Joseph stood at the back, looking at everything calmly. John, on the other hand, was incredibly focused on his task - as if he tried to make the letters perfectly straight. She thought that he wanted to disfigure and embellish her at the same time. Maybe he actually saw it as a one and the same thing. SHe didn't know. He was one big puzzle. Each brother was drastically different, and she wasn't able to fully decipher them. Deputy had a feeling that during those few weeks in Hope County she only touched the surface and knew basically nothing about the threat that they posed.

    She knew that the scuffle wasn't worth anything at this point. She gave in, breathing heavily, feeling the sweat running down her skin. She lowered her head and narrowed her eyes, hissing quietly with each stroke of the knife. Feeling the fascinated gaze of John Seed on her body, adoringly staring at the bloody picture that he painted on her pale, wet skin. On her collarbone, then both of her arms and the last one on her back. Four sins. Four out of seven.

WRATH.

PRIDE.

GREED.

ENVY.

_________________________________________________

      "Aaaaah. Perfect."  He stood up and stepped back a few steps, looking at Rookie. Blood trickled down her body, coloring her clothes with bloody red. Jacob stood behind her, unmoving.

    "It's over, my child." Joseph said gently and came closer, then looked toward the exit. "Now, take her where she belongs, brother."

    "Get up."  Jacob's order was icy, and it effectively forced her to get up, despite the tearing pain. She didn't fight him; she wanted to stay calm. She allowed him to move her out of the church. When they went outside, she saw the first rays of the sun leaning out from behind the horizon. Early dawn. It seemed that she managed to survive another day, though how was it possible, she couldn't understand. Joseph still believed she could be saved. Be she didn't even want to. Not to mention that the didn't believe in God's existence.

    Peggies watched her from a safe distance. The silence was interrupted by their whispers and barking of dogs. Judge, whom she had seen before, growled in her direction. She didn't pay attention to any of it. She just waited. Waited for a good moment to react, because she knew where she was going to be taken to. They would close her in one of the bunkers, in the deepest darkness of it, to make sure she will never escape again. She would spend the rest of her life in there, with no chance to escape. Forced to imagine all those things the cult would do to the innocent people in the county.

    "Go to hell, all of you."

    And this one time in her life, she turned out to be faster than Jacob. She broke free of the weakened grip, pulling out the knife from his thigh holster, turning it between her fingers and quickly trying to cut his thigh. The soldier avoided the attack, however, knocking her hand to the side. She growled as the pain in the fresh wounds spoke with another dose of dull pain, but she clenched her teeth.

    "Kill the sinner!"  Peggies whispers turned into surprised and furious cries and commands. "CULL THE HERD! KILL THE HERETIC!"  One of Jacob's hunters got his bow, ready to shoot.

    "No!" Jacob protested, spitting to the side. "She's mine. Step back, all of you."

    And so they did. No one would dare to disrespect the Herald. He seemend somehow amused that she did what she did. Almost like he expected it, waited for it. He even smiled slightly, looking at her ominously. 

    "And there you are. You never cease to amaze me." He growled, than sighed. "Still, you're nothing but a lost cause, honey. You're only putting off the inevitable."

    "I'm not gonna be your slave. Not yours, or anyone else's."  Deputy spat, breathing heavily. She had a pose typical for a predator, though uncertain whether it intended to attack or defend itself. Jacob saw this hesitation and chuckled darkly, flashing his white teeth for a split second.

    "Don't have such a high opinion of yourself."  He replied mockingly, standing in front of her, casting his shadow on her. She felt overwhelmed. Like an animal in a cage trying to fight for freedom. "You are not a slave, you are only a tool. And you belong to me."

    It took him just two steps to get to her. He rolled his fingers into a fist, wanting to hit her again and this time to knock the knife out of her fingers. However, she jumped back. The bear fought with the wolf. Or was it really a wolf's fight with a lamb? She circled him in a semicircle and tried to cut his wrist. They both knew that the hands were crucial here, and damaging it could weigh on victory. Out of the corner of her eye she saw calm Joseph standing at the entrance to the church. John was silent as well, even though his eyes were full of rage, watching everything from the side.

    And Jacob turned out to be not only strong; but also extremely fast. The woman knew that her only chance was to fight for time. It will be better to launch an attack when her opponent gets tired - especially since he has again parried her blow without much difficulty. The tearing pain in her body still tormented her, but she didn't give up. She tried to transform suffering into strength. Turn the brothers' weapons against them. Jacob snarled and took advantage of the opportunity he was just given - he slammed the woman's feet, knocking her off balance. She didn't fall to the ground, but she lost valuable time trying to keep upright. And the soldier didn't hesitate - he hit her right into the stomach, taking her breath away and sending another injection of pain over her whole delicate body. She moaned, bending even more in herself, but at the same time tightening her grip on the knife she tried to stab the man's thigh with. Or at least she wanted him to believe it. And he believed - he tried to move his leg out of her reach, while the knife suddenly changed its trajectory and cut the skin on the left side of Jacob's ribs. The worst part, however, was that he didn't seem to mind it. He just hissed, apparently not very impressed, but it sure boiled up his rage. Rookie jumped two steps back, quickly trying to return to a state that would allow her to breathe normally. She saw drops of blood running down the knife's edge. It slightly lifted her spirits. She achieved at least this.

    Her satisfaction, however, was short. Too short to be noticed at all. Another punch that Jacob had sent straight hitted her right to the neck. She couldn't avoid this, she was too slow and too weak. She began to suffocate and fell to the ground, dropping the knife and grabbing her throat with both hands, choking silently.

    "Enough?"  He asked, coming closer. And the woman made a mistake - she tried to jump on him, despite her tragic state. She only managed to gouge her nails in his neck and aim a not very accurate, or severe blow to the man's face. His head slightly bounced off to the side, but at the expense of this small success she got a strong kick in her abdomen that sent her to the ground again. She was kneeling in front of him now, still choking. It was pathetic, she knew it - but Jacob certainly liked it. John as well, because she heard his loud, mocking laugh.

    She howled when a strong hand was tangled in her hair and pulled her up. She tried to grab Jacob's arm with hands to minimize the pain, but it didn't help. He lifted her to his own level, and she lost ground under her feet.

    "You are weak." He muttered hoarsely, almost disgusted. She felt as if he spat on her. Maybe he even wanted to - but apparently he stopped himself. He dropped her, watching her fall down just before his legs, curling up, fighting for the possibility of breathing, and trying to stop the urge to howl in pain at all costs.

    She lost.

[aurorawest]

⭐️Can you please also do a director's commentary for "Foundations" chapter 3? Thank you for your commentary on ch. 2, that was fantastic btw, :D I love that chapter!!

Yes! Thanks for asking! Link to AO3.

I used to write such short chapters, haha. This one is under 2500 words! I talked a bit when I did chapter 2 about why I wrote Foundations. Chapter 3 was actually the first chapter I wrote. It was The Scene (you know, the one you see in your head that’s the whole reason for writing the thing in the first place) for this fic, but when I write, I usually write The Scene first, haha.

Loki shifted in his camp bed, reaching up to pull the orb of light floating next to him closer before he turned the page of his book. Wind rattled the walls of the tent, but the storm outside wasn’t enough to drown out the rising and falling swells of sound from the impromptu feast that had sprung up several tent rows over. 

I remember really struggling to get the atmosphere of the setting of this chapter...mainly because I didn’t really care that much, haha. I wanted to write a fraught conversation between Loki and Thor and what to you mean I need to describe where they are? Though I actually think it turned out well in the end.

He paused for a moment, listening, knowing the right thing to do—the expected thing to do—was to be there himself. Eating, drinking, bragging and inflating whatever deeds he’d accomplished in battle that day. And singing, apparently, if the sound he could hear was any indication—and if one was extremely generous with their definition of ‘singing.’

I don’t think I’d come up with my head canon yet that Loki hates to sing at this point.

They were on Alfheim, one of the Nine Realms, which was facing a minor insurrection; nothing that Asgard’s forces couldn’t put down in a week or two. 

Sneak peek! Alfheim features prominently in the sequel to The Real Asgardians of the Galaxy.

They’d been there three days and the tide of the war was already turning in their favor. Still, it had been a shock when the Bifrost had brought them there. Years ago, Mother had taken Loki and Thor to visit, and Loki had found the planet breathtaking. Asgard was beautiful, of course, the pinnacle of the Nine Realms, but the lacy architecture of Ljosalfgard and the forests twinkling with lights was captivating. Thor had wanted to capture a unicorn and ride it; 

I draw a lot of inspiration from the comics when I write about Alfheim, since we’ve only seen one very brief shot of it in the MCU. Ljosalfgard is the capital (Ljósálfar is Old Norse for Light Elves). Unicorns are native to Alfheim in the comics.

Mother had forbidden it, and added for good measure that if he was gored, he’d have to sit in bed for the duration of the trip and wouldn’t be allowed to have any fun.

The forests were nowhere to be seen now, though. Or the unicorns, for that matter, though during that long ago visit, neither Thor nor Loki had gotten anywhere near one, anyway. The rebel army was moving towards Ljosalfgard, burning everything as it went, and the tall, graceful trees that had fascinated Loki as a child were nothing but smoldering stumps now. Whole towns had been reduced to rubble, with the bodies of those who had been unable to flee lying amid the wreckage.

In the last such ruin they’d passed through, Loki had stopped to stare down into the face of a dead elf. Her legs were pinned under the collapsed wall of a building, crushed beyond repair, but what had killed her was the discharge weapon that had been fired into her stomach. Tarry blood, turning black as it dried, was spread around her. Not a quick death, or a painless one. He’d knelt down and closed her eyes, but he couldn’t do anything about the howl of pain that twisted the rest of her face.

I added this paragraph about the dead elf during editing, feeling that my description of war was too impersonal and sanitized. Since writing this, my body count in my fics has multiplied. Now I kind of look for excuses to describe corpses.

A crack of thunder brought him back to the present with a jolt. He realized he’d been staring at the same sentence on the page, reading it over and over again. 

Mood, Loki.

With a yawn, he closed the book and set it aside on the small, ornate table he’d carted to Alfheim from Asgard. 

My pocket dimension head canon wasn’t as well developed at this point. I was imagining the table physically being carried. I’ve actually always intended for this table to make an appearance in my fic again, like Loki chucked it in his pocket dimension and sort of forgot about it, but I try to limit the amount of Asgardian stuff he’s got in there for angst value, so I’ve never had it show up again.

The book was a treatise on astral projection, wherein the author theorized that with the proper source of power, the range of the projection could be amplified infinitely. 

I still think this is clever, haha. This is a reference to Infinity Stones! Specifically the scene in Avengers where Loki astral projects and talks to the Other. I head canon that Loki really can’t astral project very far (maybe, maybe, a mile or two), but that the Mind Stone allowed him to do so in that scene.

Interesting, but not the lightest reading after a day of battle. He’d brought other books—and been roundly mocked for it

Whether Loki was being mocked or teased is open to interpretation. He can’t see it as anything other than mocking, though.

—but his focus was shot to hel. Whatever he picked up, he’d only end up sitting with it open on his lap while his mind wandered.

At that moment, the tent flap burst open, letting in a spray of wind and rain. “It’s pissing down out there,” 

The fact that Loki and Thor both have English accents makes me desperately want to make them speak British English, but I don’t because they don’t in the movies. Sometimes, sometimes, I allow myself to throw something in.

Thor said, apparently to no one in particular, because when his eyes fell on Loki, he added, “Ah. I thought I’d find you hiding here.”

“I’m hardly hiding,” Loki said. “Anyway, I was tired.” He flicked his light orb higher and expanded it with a twist of his hand so that it illuminated more of the space. 

This is the first time I wrote about this spell of Loki’s, which I now use alllll the time. It’s one of my go-to spells for him. If you’ve followed me for any length of time you’ve probably seen me talk about this fic I have where Strange goes into Loki’s mind (still unposted)—this spell is actually a major part of one section of that fic.

Thor looked at it, shook his head a little, and switched on the lights on his side of their shared tent. “What?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

Generator? Asgardian tech? Who knows!

Glancing at him, Thor replied, “Tricks.”

Uh oh.

With a slight smile, Loki said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, brother, but one of my tricks prevented an axe from lodging in that thick skull of yours earlier.”

Thor snorted. “Not so tired that your wit’s dulled, I see.”

“Well, no. Never.”

Obviously, I try to capture the characters’ voices when I write, especially their dialogue, but I do it to the point where if there’s a kind of really distinctive delivery of a line, I’ll take that and turn it into almost like, a verbal tic? You know how you’ll catch yourself saying certain things a certain way, little phrases, that sort of thing? This is an intentional echo of Loki’s line in Avengers, where Thor says, “You think yourself above them,” and Loki responds, “Well yes.” I use this one all the time.

Removing the vambraces from his forearms, 

The amount of time that I have spent looking up what different pieces of armor are called, UGH. And I never remember. When I edit, I always have to double check. The only one I know for sure now is demi-gaunts because I use it so often, haha. Those are the things Loki wears on his hands in Ragnarok.

Thor chuckled, then said, “You should have joined us. No party is complete without your troublemaking.”

Loki put a hand over his heart, a grin twitching at his mouth. “I’m touched. I had no idea I was so appreciated.”

“That,” Thor said, “and the fact that Fandral couldn’t stop bragging about how many more rebels he slew than the both of us combined. I could’ve used your help knocking him down a peg or two.”

I wanted to show a few things here. One: Loki is used to Thor being dismissive about his magic, and he doesn’t actually dwell on it too much in conversation. Two: Thor’s attitude about Loki’s magic isn’t actually awful. He could certainly be nicer about it and have more respect for something that Loki is really good at it, but this isn’t something that Thor feels really affects their relationship. He’s mildly contemptuous, and he forgets immediately. And three: Thor enjoys Loki’s mischievous side. The two of them still have a decent relationship, though the cracks are showing.

“Mm. Sorry to disappoint you,” Loki said.

Thor snorted. Removing his cape and slinging it over a chair back, he asked, “What are you reading, anyway?”

With a glance at the book, Loki said, “I don’t think it would interest you.”

“I don’t think so either.” Thor smirked at him. “I’m just trying to show some interest in the things my little brother’s interested in.”

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Loki said, “Ah, I see. Mockery, then patronization. What a day.”

Thor chuckled and came over to pick up the book. “Astral projection,” he said, then looked at Loki. “You already know how to do this.”

Really trying to hammer (haha, pun intended) home the point that Loki is an extremely unreliable narrator. Thor asks Loki what he’s reading, then shows that he knows what Loki can do. And then:

Loki raised an eyebrow. It was always a surprise when Thor demonstrated that he knew what Loki was capable of. 

Yeah but, is it, Loki? Is it?

“You already know how to swing a sword, but you still train.”

“Hm.” Thor put the book down. “Once Father gives me Mjølnir, I won’t have to.”

Still pre-Mjølnir.

Right. Mjølnir. It had been heavily implied, when Father had sent them to quell the uprising on Alfheim, that the reward for success would be Mjølnir. For Thor, of course. For Loki, well, he supposed the reward was the satisfaction of a job well done. Once, when they’d been children, the two of them had snuck down to the weapons vault to see if they could lift the hammer. Thor hadn’t hesitated; he’d strutted up to it and yanked on its handle. It had come off its stone pedestal easily, and Thor had crowed and brandished it while Loki had stood there grinning.

Then, Thor had set it down and said, his face flushed with happiness, “You try it!”

Loki had reached for the handle. But he’d stopped, his arm outstretched, and closed his fingers around nothing but air before withdrawing his hand. What if he couldn’t? What if he wasn’t worthy? 

To this day, this bit hurts me. I find it so relatable. If you try, you might fail, so maybe it’s better to not even try? At least you won’t feel like a worthless failure that way. And on a broader character note, this is Loki as a child already feeling that he isn’t living up to expectations.

So he shook his head and had said, “Father will be angry if he finds out we came down here.”

This was a thin excuse to put off learning something about himself that he didn’t want to learn, but even at a young age, Loki had been all-too-cognizant of his own failings. Thor had looked crestfallen, which almost made him feel guilty enough to try lifting Mjølnir, despite his misgivings.

HE’S NOT THOR. This is something that I definitely address in my fic series, this idea that he’s not Thor, so he’ll never be good enough. And yes...it is something that he gets over. He stops worrying about the fact that he can’t lift Mjølnir. He begins to see the value in his way of doing things, and not in a defensive way, but in a way he’s actually proud of. He realizes he doesn’t need to be Thor because he’s Loki.

But this is waaaaaay before that, haha.

Almost.

Rain beat on the tent, which luckily was imbued with enough Asgardian technology to keep all of it outside. Winter on Alfheim, at least in this hemisphere. If the blood didn’t turn the battlefields to mud, the rain would. Loki glanced up, his brow furrowed, as thunder rumbled and a gust of wind made the canvas billow like a sail. “The weather could be better.”

“If it doesn’t stop, it will just make the battle more glorious,” Thor said.

Smirking, Loki said, “I think I find dry clothing more glorious than battle.”

Thor shook his head at Loki, looking like someone had just told a wonderful joke, but only he was in on it. “You enjoy it, admit it. You can pretend you’re above it all you like, but I see it in your eyes.” He paused, clearly wanting his punchline, or thesis, or whatever this was, to really land. “That’s the rage of battle, brother.”

This was the first bit of dialogue I thought of for this fic. I remember it coming to me while I was sitting in bed one night.

Loki somehow hadn’t expected that. Taken aback and hoping it wasn’t showing, he said, “You’re mistaken.”

[...] Thor chuckled and laid down, his hands laced under his head, but Loki remained sitting, staring at the opposite wall of the tent and fidgeting with his hands. The rage of battle. Ridiculous. If there was one thing that Loki was good at, it was not letting his emotions get away from him. 

OOF. If you thought to yourself while reading this, That doesn’t sound like the Loki I know, then you are correct! Frigga has that line in TDW where she says, “So perceptive about everyone but yourself,” and that line is one of my guiding stars for writing Loki. He’s very, very good at reading other people...but terrible at knowing his own mind. And then his read of what other people think of him gets filtered through his skewed perception of himself.

Anyway, I very much believe that Loki is horrible about keeping his emotions in check. He absolutely, when agitated, thinks entirely with his heart and not at all with his head. Here’s the thing...

He was as collected in battle as he was any other time. 

He wants to be a Good Asgardian. So in his mind, it’s controlling your emotions in battle that’s important. Other times? Not so much. As long as he does it in battle, nothing else matters. And Loki is very good about keeping his head in battle. He’s an amazing warrior, just as good as any other Asgardian.

To lose your head was to invite costly mistakes. Absently, he ran his thumbnail over his other fingernails. He feared losing himself, anyway. Sometimes he thought it would be all too easy, when he wasn’t always sure who he was to begin with.

This is one of the core elements of Loki’s character to me. He doesn’t know who he is. He fears a loss of control. I absolutely keep these things in my head at all times when writing him. These things affect everything in his life and hold him back from things he wants. Love? That’s a loss of control.

“You’re quiet, brother,” Thor said.

Loki glanced over at him. “Just thinking.”

“You think too much.”

“Possibly.”

Another intentional movie dialogue echo. “Are you mad?” “Possibly.”

Propping himself up on his elbow and facing Loki, Thor said, “This is war, Loki. You get up, you slay the enemy, you drink, you feast, and then you go to bed so you can do it all over again the next day. There’s nothing to think about.”

Life was definitely simpler for Thor back in the day.

With a slight smile and a mirthless exhalation of laughter, Loki said, “I’m not like you, Thor.”

“Really? That’s so shocking, whatever could you be talking about?”

Loki gave his brother a sidelong look. Once in a while, Thor displayed a snideness that came directly from Mother. While Loki was truly their mother’s son, some of it was bound to rub off on Thor, too. 

I’ve never liked the idea that Thor is stupid, and I do like those moments where he’s sarcastic and clever. “I thought you liked tricks,” from TDW comes to mind, and obviously a lot in Ragnarok. Loki has a tendency to think in binaries. Father=Thor, Mother=Loki (in the sense that they take after their parents, not like, Loki is maternal). He has trouble seeing that Thor also takes after their mother...and he has even more trouble seeing how much like Odin he himself is.

“I don’t mind battle,” he said. “I’m perfectly happy fighting to protect Asgard and the Nine Realms. 

It’s really important to me to show that Loki isn’t squeamish about killing people, but also that he sees it as a duty.

But you know I’d rather be sitting by the water, reading a book.”

“The water” is what I’ve come to call the body of water that surrounds Asgard’s land mass. It’s not an ocean, it’s not a lake. Here, I’m literally just saying ‘sitting by the water’ the way you’d say that if you were like, sitting on a dock or on the beach or whatever, but since then it’s become my official name for it. I like the idea that Asgardians really do see themselves as superior, and this body of water sitting around their planet is The Water, like there’s no other water.

“Or causing mischief,” Thor said without missing a beat, which made Loki shrug in acknowledgment of this point. Thor stared at Loki for a minute, and then he said, “Perhaps you should…” But then he trailed off and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Perhaps I should what?” Loki asked, a sharp edge to his tone that he knew would put Thor on the defensive.

A flicker of irritation crossed Thor’s face. “Perhaps you should take greater pains to be more like a warrior. We’re Asgardians, Loki. We don’t hide in bushes and cast spells. We face the enemy head on.”

Aaaand there it is. Thor definitely feels this way, but he’s also more of a dick than he has to be, because Loki purposefully needled him—and Thor’s quickness to anger is one of his flaws.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “A dead rebel is a dead rebel. It doesn’t matter if I stood in front of him and ran him through with a sword or if I distracted him with an illusion while I threw a dagger through his windpipe.” Tilting his chin up, he said, “And I hardly ‘hide in the bushes.’ Don’t be insulting.”

“The men talk,” Thor said, still sounding prickly.

Loki is the one we think of as being the one who feels like he doesn’t fit in and as though he has to maintain an image of someone he isn’t...but I’m really partial to the idea that Thor feels the exact same way. The two of them have actually had this in common their entire lives, but they never talk about it or see this basic fact about each other. They’re both trying to live up to something, and it isn’t who either of them are.

Ah. So that was the issue. There Thor had been, just trying to get drunk with the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif while they compared body counts, and it had been interrupted by the troops questioning Loki’s prowess on the battlefield. Or perhaps even his commitment to the battle itself. What an inconvenience. How embarrassing. “Do they,” Loki said, his tone flat. “And do you defend me, brother? Or do you let them talk?”

Thor rolled his eyes. “Don’t start this.”

Does Thor not really answer the question because obviously he defends Loki, or because he doesn’t, and it embarrasses him? I left this purposefully ambiguous here. Loki certainly knows what he thinks.

Loki held up his hands, his eyes widening a little in an expression of sarcastic innocence. “I thought you started it. Didn’t you just tell me to stop hiding in the bushes?”

With a frustrated sigh, Thor said, “You take everything the wrong way.”

“Perhaps you should choose your words more carefully,” Loki shot back.

Their whole relationship, summed up in two lines.

For a long moment, Thor glared. Loki tried to return it with a look of cool haughtiness. Finally, Thor said, “Of course I defend you. But when even Hogun and Sif—”

At this, Loki’s mask dropped, he knew it did, and he knew that for a split second, the hurt showed on his face. Thor’s glare slipped as well and guilt flashed across his features. 

They’re so good at hurting each other. It’s exactly what they’re trying to do, and then they instantly regret it. But it doesn’t stop them from doing it again.

Well, Loki had just told him to choose his words more carefully. It would do his brother good to listen. Otherwise you ended up saying things that other people didn’t need to hear.

Loki snorted derisively, a hard twist of a smile on his face. “I see.” The fact that Sif was bad-mouthing him stung more than he cared to admit. His feelings towards her toed the line between platonic and something more on and off for years, though he knew he’d never stand a chance with her. 

Loki definitely had a thing for Sif for a long time. He’s being wishy-washy here.

Thor was her type. Blond, muscle-y, typical Asgardian male. 

Loki’s type, when it comes to men, certainly involves muscles, just not the like, bulging bodybuilder muscles.

Which made her just like everyone else. Loki held out his hand and snapped his fingers shut, and the orb of light hovering over him snuffed out.

“Loki—”

“Good-night, Thor,” he said, his voice tight. Anger and resentment coiled in the pit of his stomach like a viper, slithering up his spine to the base of his skull so that it sat there, an intrusive otherness scratching at his mind. 

Some purposeful snake imagery; and the use of ‘viper,’ which has connotations of treachery, was also deliberate.

As he laid down, he knew it would keep him awake, and that Thor probably wouldn’t be fooled by his stillness. He could cast an illusion, so that it looked like he was sleeping, and then leave his slumbering form here and roam the dark encampment, if he wanted to.

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to not feel like an outsider amongst his family and friends. He wanted ‘Asgardian’ to encompass his particular gifts too.

Loki is definitely arrogant about his abilities, which is an interesting thing to balance, since he’s also so deeply insecure. A lot of his bitterness comes from the fact that he knows he’s good at things, but they aren’t the right things. And even when they are the right things—like being great in battle—he doesn’t do it the ‘right’ way.

“Loki,” Thor said again.

He ignored his brother and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, Thor would have forgotten about this. Thor never had any trouble forgetting the things he said and did that wounded Loki. 

This is true. Thor thinks before he speaks, but he also puts more stock in actions than words. Loki is the opposite.

That was a gift, he supposed, his face twisting in the dark. A very particular gift to be able to let go of words that hurt, one which he both hated and longed to have. Of course, Thor didn’t need to remember hurtful words, because the only person who ever flung any of them at him were Loki himself, and very little that Loki said was worth remembering in the eyes of his family and friends.

This is not true. Loki is being an unreliable narrator.

Fine. Thor would forget. Loki would try to, as well.

Thank you so much for asking!! 😄 

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[inthedusksynria]

Thoughts on Book 4. Gonna highlight the positives.

i liked the potencial of the ending. it was interesting in a way. 

While i definitely agree with the critics of atrocious pacing, the dream within a dream within a dream inception, and the weird “hey there buddy” Peony, i thought the possibilities presented were cool.

Freyja was definitely a highlight. I really enjoyed her arc as a villian. She had awesome designs, was a threat both in game and in story, was shown multiple times on how she operated as a villian, her perspective on humans and fairies. While her “redemption” was rushed, i enjoyed the progression of her character, and how she had an “arc”.

From obsessed with her brother (maybe also experiencing some sort of degenaration(akin to like...Anankos/Duma/Mila)) -> He sacrificing himself and dying -> having to deal with the source of her obsession dying and the desesperation that came with it -> becoming a foil to the summoner in the sense of someone precious to them dying but summoner still going foward while she was stuck -> being left with nothing and wondering about her fairies loyalty -> frank convo with Triandra -> slowly realizing that hey... triandra and plumeria were important to me/being confused about what she felt towards them and their loyalty towards her, even as she realized they were the only thing she had left after her brother died -> realizing she cared abt them and not wanting them to die possible also inspired by what she saw of Peony/Askr Gang -> sacrificing herself for them and saving their lifes, dying while understanding why her brother felt that way towards humans and feeling a similar way(but towards her fairies instead of all humans).

I thought it was pretty neat this arc(or at least its bare bones’s idea). Like a horrible paced mess, but the concepts were interesting. After Hel and Surtr who had no arcs besides “...evil”, this progression was pretty cool.

Freyr: pretty bland, but i liked how he took iniciative to stop Freyja and sacrificed himself. Pretty cool design too. He was more of a plot device but i felt he did his job well enough.

Peony & Sharena situation: That was also super cool! It was rushed too, but Sharena despair over possibily not being the OG Sharena, and Peony confrontation with her were pretty cool. It felt emotional to read the dialogue between them. I wish this book could have focused more on them instead, bc this situation was really interesting. Abused kids playing together, Peony and Sharena switching places so many times, they were basically the same, and finally Peony taking the nectar to both a. stay togther with her sister b. protect Sharena because of all of them, Sharena was the only one who had a family who would be sad if she disappeared(Alfonse). (it kind of confuses me that people said it wasnt stated who was who, bc while it isnt explcitely stated, Peony gives a reason only the OG Peony would have had (Sharena having a sibling that cares for her and not wanting to break their bond, in contrast to OG Peony who would stay with her sibling if she took the nectar) to drink the nectar. And then, Peony being ready to sacrifice herself and conforting Sharena was also very cool.

I also got confused on people wondering how Peony survived, because Freyja sacrifice was to revive/save the fairies, and while she only talks to Plumeria and Triandra, i took as since she is the god, her death being able to save ALL the fairies even if the priorities were Triandra and Plumeria, and thats why Peony appeared in the end.

i could of course have interpreted wrong, but that was my reading.

Triandra:

“Wow since Plumeria story was paced nicely i cant wait to see Triandra being properly paced like that”

“New heroes one screen dialogue: BITCH YOU THOUGHT”

I found her backstory and relationship with Freyja fascinating and i wish she had had more screentime. Definitely my favorite of the 4 fairies even if she got the third shortest stick of them all. There was so much potencial, like. big sister to Peony who straight up murdered their abused parent to protect her sister, took the nectar to be powerful and a hero and not let more harm come to her sister, came to genuinely cares about Freyja who saved her and Peony, and thus is loyal towards all to Freyja. It kills me they never let her properly react to Peony, bc it would be so interesting!! Like!!

Who would she pick: the one who saved her and her sister  or her sister who she did everything to. And explore all the possible feelings she could have had towards her situation!! Does it haunt her she had to resort to murder?(i got the vibe that not) is she ever resentful that Peony got the happy dreams and she the sads and thus she is always surrounded by sadness? is she alright with the sad dreams as a contrast to Plumeria who hates her lewd dreams?  Why does she sides with Freyja instead of Peony(while triandra explains why she is loyal to Freyja, she never gets to say why her loyalty is stronger to freyja than to Peony) ? she ultimadely started to care for Freyja more than Peony over the years separated?  How does she feel over Sharena/Peony switches? Did her loyalty to Peony diminished bc of that?

There are so many interesting hooks but alas.

Alfonse & Summoner situation: It was interesting i guess. i liked the still art. and the meme.s. stil wish we focused more on peony & Sharena but erk

Story x Game mechanics: SO COOL. WEAPONLESS FREYR?? “”SUMMONER”” WITH SAME STATS AND SKILLS THAT ALFONSE?? “---” i love gameplay storytelling. First time being done and it was pretty cool.

negative thoughts under.

Plumeria: ..... the pacing of her story was good. Her backstory was also super heartbreaking.

I wish i could like her but i cant stop thinking on how miserable her existence is. Like i feel it would be better  if even if she still hated it lewd dreams, she could still claim some sort of agency by making them painful in humans or always degenarating them into despair/nightmares, thus reclaiming a sort of control over a power she hates but

IS voice: god forbid she have complex feelings abt it right,

Outside of that i would love a xenologue where she and triandra deal with freyja sacrifice and death and it explores her feelings.

Mirabilis: ....she sure did exist huh. DIsliked her design, her color palette and just ehhhhhhh. 

conclusion:

Favs of the arc: Freyja (T-poses in has an arc) > Triandra > Freyr.

Book score: 6/10. Interesting concepts, better pacing if still atrocious, gamEPLAY STORYTELLING BRUH.

if i would tier i would put something like

book 3 > book 4 >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> book 1 >= book 2

although i do think book 4 did a lot of more interesting things (arcs/gameplay storytelling) than book 3, book 3 does holds some special place in the heart

[philosopherking1887]

Ooh. I'm feeling this one: Leave a “Join Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character giving another character an offer [be it a proposal for an alliance, asking them to join them in an activity. Feel free to go wherever, but I'd love Loki talking Thor into a devious, Machiavellian scheme. Thor knows the outcome is necessary/good but doesn't love the means to achieve it. Naughty Antihero Loki.. yum. *evil grin*

Well, this doesn’t follow the prompt exactly, but having recently seen Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, I was inspired to run with my idea from Abyss that Loki met several of the Guardians during the year between Thor and The Avengers (Rocket and Groot during his criminal career, and Gamora and Nebula while in Thanos’s clutches). This is what came out. Enjoy! (P.S. I didn’t know what Sam Wilson’s military rank was so I went with lieutenant because it’s lower than captain but still sounds cool.)

The official meeting between the Avengers and the Guardianshad been called to a close, and now the members of both teams had dispersedaround the room and were talking to each other in twos and threes. Gamora andNebula—having greeted Loki already, the one joyously and the other grudgingly—seemed to be commiserating about something with the women of the Avengers, the Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch. Vision was chatting animatedlywith Groot, and seemed to have no trouble at all understanding him. Barton andQuill appeared to have discovered that they had a great deal in common, whichLoki was charmed and amused to see, though he still felt a pang of regret thathe could never have a truly warm relationship with Barton. Captain Rogers wastalking with—or more accurately being talked at—by Drax the Destroyer, andlooking distinctly unhappy; he looked across the room to his friends Barnes andWilson, clearly pleading for rescue, and they exchanged a few words and thenlaughed, just as clearly having no intention at all of coming to his aid.

Amid all this camaraderie, Rocket had crossed the table(quite literally; he walked across it) to Loki. “Hey, Lucan, or whatever yourname really is,” he began.

‘Lucan’ was the name Loki had used when he was operating asa criminal in the Andromeda Galaxy and pretending, more or less, to beXandarian. “It’s Loki,” he said.

“Eh, close enough,” Rocket replied. “I have a proposition.”

“Oh?” Whatever it was, this should be good.

“I wanna convince that guy that Groot really hates him andwants to fight him.” He jerked his head toward the Falcon.

Loki did not need to ask why he wanted to do that; heunderstood that Rocket simply thought it would be humorous, and he had to admitthat he concurred.

“And what is my role in this charade?” Loki asked, amused.

“Well, since you and your brother have that Asgardian All-mouththingy, I need you either on board or out of the room. And that purple guy,too.” He waved a paw at Vision. “And knowing you, I was pretty sure you’d geton board,” he added with an exaggerated wink.

Thor was standing just a few paces away, speaking with T’Challa,the grave-faced Wakandan king, whom he had not met before this gathering. Loki regardedhis brother consideringly, debating whether to involve him in the scheme orsimply find a pretext to dismiss him. He relished the idea of drawing Thor intosome bit of mischief as he so often had when they were boys; and as much ashe always had insisted to Loki, after they had been caught, that it was entirely Loki’sidea and therefore his fault that they were being punished, Loki recalled thathe had never been all that reluctant to join him in the roguery.

“Thor, would you come here a moment?” Loki called, raisinghis voice just enough to be heard by those standing close by.

Thor excused himself politely, inclining his head to hisfellow royal, and T’Challa inclined his head in turn and went to join Rogers;Loki was unsure whether he had noticed the captain’s predicament and hoped to assisthim, or whether he was walking unawares into the ‘conversation’ with Drax.

“What is it, brother?” Thor asked, sounding somewhatapprehensive.

“Rocket here has an idea, but he needs our cooperation. Hewishes to convince Lieutenant Wilson that Groot does not like him and wants tochallenge him to a fight.”

Thor frowned and looked askance at Rocket. “Why do you wishto do that?”

“Because it would be hilarious!” Rocket said with theexasperation of one always being compelled to state the obvious. “No one hasany idea what Groot is saying except me, you two, and Mr. Ex-Robot there. Hewould be so confused, and Groot will be insisting that he said nothing of thesort, and he’ll get madder and madder at me, but everyone will think it’sbecause he really hates the bird man. But I need one of you backing me up,because if it’s just me saying it, Quill and Gamora will smell a rat.”

“No pun intended, obviously,” Loki added sotto voce.

“Huh?” said Rocket.

“Never mind.” Loki turned to Thor. “It seems to me that thiswould work best if you support Rocket in his interpretation of Groot while Idraw Vision away. The Avengers are even more suspicious of me than yourcompanions are of you,” he explained to Rocket, “while they expect nothing buthonesty from my shining paragon of a brother here.” He gave Thor the sweetestof smiles.

Thor still looked skeptical and somewhat disgruntled. “And whyshould I aid you in this utterly dishonorable enterprise?”

“A sense of fun? A collegial bonding exercise? The sheer Helof it?” Loki suggested. Then, more quietly, almost sincerely, “Old times’ sake?”

As he regarded Loki with a strange hopeful sadness, Thor’sfrown softened, then one side of his mouth twitched upward. “For old times’sake,” he agreed.