#so i've been taking care of life stuff in the background

[iersei]

may i get a lark reading a book please? (he deserves some peace :') ) thank you :3

[VOTE GLENN CLOSE IN THIS TOURNAMENT HERE AND GET A SKETCH REQUEST]

we're taking it easy right now

(thank you for your patience with my pacing as i work through these requests!)

[neigepomme]

🍎 quick headcanons about the lads guys pt. 2 WOOO!! media added for better experience :9

⋆ most of the couple tiktok videos you do with caleb are actually his idea. his whole fyp is filled with cute couple trends, and he sends them all to you. he really loved when you picked out his outfit for the h.s.k.t trend and has to fight himself to not wear that outfit daily now. his phone background is you two with the lipstick heart trend on your cheeks.

⋆ rafayel never shows up to your place empty-handed. when you tell him it's okay to not bring you a gift (whether it be flowers, some snacks or pastries, a cute handbag, etc) whenever he visits, he looks at you like you offended him before going "yeah, no. no way cutie." he actually started gifting you more stuff after you commented on it.

⋆ even though xavier's jealous nature is really cute and you don't mind it, he tries his best to keep it at bay. by that i just mean that instead of glaring daggers at a guy who's hitting on you, he starts resting his head on your shoulder from behind and dramatically sighing like a kicked puppy. it works AND you pet his hair, so it's a double win. xavier - 1, the guy who hit on you - 0.

⋆ sylus never tells you, but you quickly figure out that he loves it when you care for him and play with his hair when you two are cuddling. he's a big man and typically has you sleeping on his arm (and he loves it), but at one point, he fell asleep with his head on your stomach while you stroked his hair. when he woke up and you flashed him a warm smile, he almost saw god and thought to himself that he really ought to fall asleep like that more often.

⋆ zayne deliberately leaves his dress shirts at your place, in hopes of seeing you wear them. when he drops by to see you at one point and you answer the door only wearing his shirt, his knees actually buckle and he falls on the floor. you got really worried, and he got really embarrassed, but he gave you some excuse along the lines of "sorry, i think my blood sugar is low right now." you didn't miss how his ears turned bright red tho!

⋆ additional headcanon about zayne because he's my favorite, and i've been neglecting him recently: your phone background is his flushed face covered in lipstick marks, your handiwork. the actual video of you kissing him is the greatest thing in your camera roll — it's zayne growing more and more flushed and giggly as you smother his face in kisses. he could die happy!!

ok moving on to loser headcanons i need them to lose some aura rq

⋆ caleb never had a musical phase, he says. guess who knows the lyrics to meant to be yours from heathers tho! because that sure as hell isn't gideon! at one point, he got really drunk at the DAA and was belting it out. he also kissed gideon during that drunk episode but that's a story for another day (spreading my caleb bisexual agenda)

⋆ rafayel has edited wikipedia articles to be right in arguments and is not above pouting like a toddler and making you feel bad when you find out. at one point, he started forcing tears out of his eyes and going "no it's fine! you hate me, i get it, your boyfriend's feelings are less important than trivia night, it's fine!" like. he's a loser but a really pretty one so it cancels out kinda

⋆ xavier's the type of guy to go "huh??" at least 3 times when you explain something to him before he finally goes "ohh i get it". he in fact does not get it but he felt you getting worked up and he decided not to hit you with a fourth huh. his survival instincts are good and he'd rather look it up than have you be mad at him #loverboy

⋆ sylus has a really good grasp on his facial expressions, but he will hit a disgusted face when he hears something stupid. like yeah sure big bad unreadable boss and stuff but one time, he hears some guy on the street loudly say the worst take he's ever heard in his life and he can't help the side eye + disgusted face combo. he also stank faces when he listens to good music

⋆ zayne meows at cats. not elaborating on that it's pretty clear LOL but sometimes he'll think of the really cute cat he saw on the street that morning and quietly go "... meow..." greyson catches it and is so in shock, but no one will even believe him if he talks about what he heard ("yvonne you're not gonna believe this i just heard dr. zayne meow" “girl what the hell are you saying”)

[walkingstackofbooks]

A 9-year-old Julian Bashir who has had nightmares about evil doctors in an alien hospital for as long as he can remember. He doesn't tell his parents though because "he's a big boy now" and nightmares are for little kids, so he knows he should deal with them alone. And even if he'd like a hug sometimes, his mum only gives him hugs for doing well, not for doing badly, so he figures there's no point bothering her

A 15-year-old Julian Bashir who realises that the nightmares he used to have were based on the apparently very real alien hospital his parents had taken him to as a kid, and spends hours trying to figure out what were real memories and what his mind had made up over the years as he slept. The nightmares come back with an intensity, but they're nothing compared with how he's feeling when he's awake, and pretty soon they become a normal background noise of his life.

A 19-year-old Julian Bashir who's finally been moved into a solitary room after his third roommate in as many weeks complained about the almost-nightly screams. His advisor asks if he wants to speak to anyone: he claims they're just night terrors and he doesn't actually remember them. Besides, even if he could talk about what was in them, he probably wouldn't, because he's fine - he's used to them by now.

A 24-year-old Julian Bashir who gets woken from his nightmares by warm hands and gentle kisses, and learns what is like to be soothed back to sleep by the soft voice of Palis Delon

A 32-year-old Julian Bashir who has a different nightmare every night. The last year's been difficult. But then, it's been difficult for everyone, and he knows he's far from the only one to be suffering from nightmares at the moment.

A 34-year-old Julian Bashir who can't stop dreaming about the torture he went through four weeks ago, who's missing Ezri and who Miles is increasingly concerned about. When the O'Briens offer him their spare room for a while, he warns them multiple times about his nightmares, and is pathetically grateful when that doesn't change their minds. "We have nightmares too, Julian," says Keiko. "We can cope with yours."

A 34-year-old Julian Bashir who is confused when, three days later, Miles remarks, "You are having a bad run of those nightmares, aren't you?"

"They've been better than usual, actually," he replies awkwardly. "It's been really nice being able to go back to sleep afterwards, for once -- you and Keiko have been so generous in coming and checking on me."

"Course we're gonna come and check on you," says Miles gruffly. "You woke up terrified. We're not letting you do that alone."

"I'd be fine, Miles," Julian reassures. "I'm hardly going to expect one of you to come in every night."

Miles pauses. "...How long are you expecting to have them 'every night' for?" he asks, with some concern. "I mean, after a thing like this, how long does it usually take them to settle down?"

Julian stares at Miles. "I... have nightmares, Miles," he replies, frowning. "Just like you. Nightmares happen every night."

"No, they don't," says Miles, equally confused. "Don't get me wrong, they can do: after something big then sure, they're like that for a few weeks - a couple of months, even. But eventually they fall down to once, twice a week..."

Julian is looking at Miles incredulously. "That might be how it works for you," he says. "I guess my brain's different to yours. Mine don't stop, they just... mix. Change. Get confused with one another, eventually. I've had more dreams about being genetically modified by Sloan in the Dominion camp than I care to remember, you know?"

Miles' concern has turned into abject dismay. "You're saying you've had nightmares every single night since the Dominion took you?" he exclaims.

"Well, maybe not every single night!" retorts Julian, a little unsure what Miles is getting so het up about. "I do have some days when I don't... But yeah, pretty much. I've had nightmares most nights since I was fifteen, it's just how my brain processes stuff."

"Fifteen?"

...

A 34-year-old Julian who finds out that having nightmares every night for two decades is, apparently, "not normal" and something he should be seeking help for.

If Ezri comes back alive, he supposes he might take it up with her.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Manhunt Chuck Hunt Omega Review

It's been a short and baffling road that's led us here to the finale of Chuck Hunt, but fortunately it's very easy to sum up for anyone coming in blind. Charles Xavier received a distress call from his Shi'Ar daughter Xandra and escaped from prison while affected by a brain tumor. Inconveniencing various X-Men along the way, he resurrected his long dead wife, Lilandra, and brought her up to speed. He's fucking off to space (again) with his imperialist bird wife (again) to heal a sickness (again.) It doesn't make any sense at all, so join me in the absurdity of disconnected action scenes and OOC moments before a big goodbye. Like Game of Thrones season 8, it looks great and makes little sense while blowing stuff up.

Frankly, I've found this event really frustrating. Chuck visited most of the X-books for an issue but the character and relationship payoffs have been slim. Exceptional X-Men handled it best by not having him appear at all, Red Skies Crossover style. Xavier has had a tremendous impact on everyone's life but he's only engaged with them performatively and superficially. It feels like he doesn't really care about the chaos he leaves in his wake, which is nothing new, and the resolution of his mission has been spoiled by solicits. I'm not mad about it, it's so ridiculous that I have to laugh.

In what's becoming a hallmark of From The Ashes, a flashback recontextualises the inter X-Men team dynamics. Scott thinks Xavier should stay in prison; Rogue disagrees and thinks Scott has some scheme requiring his absence, for reasons. Scott's dream speech is hilariously nonsensical while Rogue is just being obnoxious.

Gambit interjects before Scott can finish a sentence and Magik says what I've been thinking - 'what did Scott do?' What's the fucking problem, yo? We've seen in Uncanny that, yes, it is personal. Scott's name has been used as an insult. They relitigate the fall of Krakoa for some reason, with Rogue having an interesting summation. 'Taking out Phoenix' had only the broadest relationship to Krakoa's fall. Xavier surrendered due to ORCHIS sneaking a kill switch into Krakoan drugs, then he forced everyone through the gates. Rogue had the best view of anyone, as she carried Xavier to Krakoa where he broke down over thinking he'd killed everyone. She missed the rest because of Avengers duty.

The characters and the readers are both being gaslit into swallowing this tripe. I don't have room to show it, but Mystique is here to look sad. Mystique hates Chuck, and she should. Melee, Bronze, and the Outliers are here crying over a dude they've never met. Magneto has nothing to say, nor does Juggernaut. X-Manhunt has been a mishmash of discontinuity with motivations changing from page to page, let alone between issues. It's simply unbelievable that anyone would believe the narrative Chuck is selling, but that's what's on the page. There's no resolution here, no nod to history, recent or otherwise. Chuck is leaving and that's that, delusional goodbye speech and all.

I find it helpful to imagine circus music playing in the background of this discussion. Rogue has conspiracy theories, Gambit backs up Rogue, Scott is rendered speechless, and Magik tries to be the adult in the room. The only thing they achieve is a tentative alliance, something they probably had anyway. The best part is that none of this matters even a little bit. By the end they'll all be herded to where Chuck, ringleader of this circus, wants them.

Ilyana has multiple swords now, and Scott powers one up with optic blasts for THE RED SURFER! She could just teleport, but this is looks cooler. Why show tactics when you can go fucking cowabunga dudes! Lilandra is having a yarn to Chuck while giving him brain surgery, lol. It's standard curriculum for all Shi'Ar rulers. Gladiator could do this but he doesn't want to. She talks about her and Chuck feeling pain but it's overwhelmingly his 'children' that suffer. Obviously Yana is blown out of the sky, only to be caught by a demon Kaiju she summoned. Obviously.

Sage appears out of nowhere with John Wraith in tow, who has a robot Kaiju Sage borrowed from Storm. Yeah, Storm has Evangelion shit on her spaceship. Anyway, John speaks entirely in bible verse. They have a Kaiju fight, which wasn't on my Chuck Hunt bingo card, and Magik gets fucked up. SCARLET SCATTERSHOT! No onomatopoeia here - we're naming moves because it's just so 3P1C!!!1! Magik is explicitly said to be bleeding out but nobody takes it very seriously. She'll be fine.

Magik easily teleports Scott onto Mr and Mrs Avian's fleeing ship, so yes they could have done this at any time. In a Hallmark moment, Scott removes his visor with a single tear streaming down his face. That's how we know this is emotional. It's been ten minutes and the brain surgery is nearly done lol, but it's kinda irrelevant because Chuck sends his astral form to just talk to Scott.

Xavier says the most insane shit possible in his speculation as to why he's being pursued. 'I'm trying to bail on all my responsibilities after fucking you all over. Why are you chasing me?' Scott's muzzle is finally removed so he can tell this man how delusional he is. Xavier comes clean about his moronic schemes and then claims that he's sacrificed so much for others. Probably not the best argument for a child soldier whose life you controlled since he was 15. Who's spent his entire life bleeding for your dream, which you're giving up on. Chuck is actually mad that Scott doesn't get it, when he's kept everything a secret. What's more, Scott has zero reaction to this revelation. None. Chuck is leaving and there's no time to payoff even the meagre emotional stakes that were setup. Don't worry, they'll get shit on even further.

Obviously he's yeeted off the ship by an unnamed move. How can we tell what it is? My suggestion would be END OF ACT 2 BEAM! As Scott plummets to his death, the ringleader cracks the whip and X-Men come tumbling out of a clown car. Rogue catches him, in a completely unearned moment of solidarity. It's surprising, yes, in the same way a baby is surprised at peek-a-boo. There's no object permanence here as people just appear where they're needed for the next bombastic moment. Instead of being relieved, Scott feels that he's failed. That they'll be blamed for the mess Chuck left behind. It's a valid position, considering The O*N*E came for them over a lot less than this. He has a panic attack and starts shooting optic blasts everywhere. That's not how they work, but it doesn't matter. Just pretend everyone has a red nose on as the circus music intensifies.

Yep, that's definitely the most appropriate way to handle Scott's very real mental health issues. Stab the motherfucker. Only the homoeroticism of Logan gently penetrating his ex gives it any kind of grace. Circus music clashes with 'intimate violence in the rain' vibes but that's what Chuck Hunt is - disparate scenes that would be powerful with setup and context smashed together to elicit unearned emotional response.

I'm not even going to touch Logan's lengthy Super Saiyan speech. He says some dumb shit then stabs Scott in the gut. Rogue could have stopped this far more safely. The point is that Chuck is gone and they have to make their own way. Scott already knew that, in fact he knew it twenty years ago. Scott's dead and Xavier is in space.

Good news everyone! Scott is totally fine, despite the very lethal gut stabbing. Ilyana too. Xavier's tumor is fixed like the trifle it is and he's back already, having summoned an arbitrary group of mutants for an unearned goodbye. The guard that killed his family and the entire city of San Francisco? Fuck them, somebody else's problem. It takes some gall to make us jump through all these hoops and present dire problems (like Xandra) only to not pay them off at the end. In fact, they never mattered in the first place. Xandra is barely mentioned, just a McGuffin who's probably having her teeth pulled out with pliers.

We also learn that Xavier had some great soup here once. Nice!

Logan doesn't want to fight. Growth! He apologises for the trivial wound he gave Scott, who shrugs it off. I don't care what Brevoort says, this is flirting.

Xavier has the balls to say that mutants are choosing to fight each other, when that's clearly not true. It's also the reason he formed the X-Men - to beat down mutants who weren't behaving themselves. They were fighting because of you, buddy. For some reason nobody challenges this, nor his claim that he never wanted to be a general. Scott didn't either - you made him one. Shit, maybe we're still in Graymalkin and this is all a hallucination. It doesn't look anything like reality. I suppose it's a small price to pay for being rid of Chuck for a few years, but it's an audacious misrepresentation of X-Men history.

It's cost you? YOU? Motherfucker that is a terrible apology. 'Well, it's been tough for me, which I'm sorry for, and that's why I'm leaving. Good luck living in the mess I created. Catch you later when the MCU synergy comes.'

Emma kisses him on the cheek and tells him he deserves it. Why not? It's not like she hates him or anything. 🙄 Kids who have never met him or heard of him are crying but Scott has zero reaction. Nada. Contradicts everything we've been shown, even in this event. If that's what it takes to get rid of Chuck? Sure, see you later dude. Scott should start a school, you say? I know a great place for that, but it's been turned into a ghoulish prison due to someone's actions. Scott is at war with the USA - fortunately DOOM is building schools. Let's go with that. Maybe he's just exhausted with this man and his schemes within schemes. He should have known the chessmaster had a ruse going, one that gave him PTSD and fucked everything up.

There's so many things I could be mad about, but who has the energy? We jumped through flaming hoops to get here and ignored character moments that make any sense in favour of dizzying spectacle. As Gambit does cartwheels, the circus music plays Chuck out, and I choose to clap like a walrus. X-Manhunt wasn't very good - it wasn't trying to be good, but maybe the X-books can figure out a new Chuck-less thesis or identity. Imperial should be fun, and really we're just playing a familiar beat - Chuck bailing to space while the X-Men get on with their lives. Nice to see he's recovered quickly from brain surgery too. Good for him, and nice work Lilandra.

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

The hyperfixation demons are screeching at me to write a comprehensive list of all the reasons I like Fukutora, so today I present to you "Ant ignores their responsibilites and spends several paragraphs explaining why Fukutora is peak despite them having roughly 10 seconds of shared screen time"

1. Contrasting Personalities In general their personalities fit together really well— Fukunaga barely speaks while Tora exclusively shouts at max volume and can't stfu to save his life, Tora's overly-intense and takes everything way too seriously while Fukunaga's cracking jokes in the middle of important games, they're even literal opposites on the court as the two wing spikers. Their differences compliment each other perfectly and because of that I think they'd grow a lot being together, Fukunaga would learn to open up and Tora would mellow out. Another good contrast is how Tora's all about looking cool and standing out while Fukunaga tends to blend into the background, which leads into my next point...

2. MY ROMAN EMPIRE (aka chapter 309) I know it's only two pages out of a 33 chapter match but i dont care, this scene makes me feral. I read the manga after watching Dumpster Battle, so imagine my suprise when my two favorite losers had a moment THAT GOT CUT FROM THE FUCJIGN MOVIE (I'm still salty, it should've been a full season).

Anyways these pages rooted their way into my brain because they show that even though Fukunaga goes unnoticed by most people (both in-universe and by readers) Tora realizes how great he is, and not only respects his play style but views him as a rival on the same level as himself. One thing I appreciate about Tora is that despite him being the stereotypical "strong manly athlete" type he doesn't think his methods are the best or only way of doing things; Fukunaga scoring points without "big fanfare" is just as cool as the shit he and Tanaka pull off. The phrasing "that I hafta surpass" could even imply that Tora sees Fukunaga as more than an equal, as someone who's ahead of him since he doesn't need to be flashy or loud to do amazing stuff.

Look at his smile on page two, bro's just excited to have someone who motivates him to keep pushing himself. And as we've learned from Kagehina: what's gayer than a rivalry?? All in all I think it's sweet that Tora notcies his efforts and admires him when few others do. Side Note, I've seen a translation of these that call them "Nekoma's Wings" and I think that's a sick nickname.

3. Bi Tora and Internalized Homophobia I love a good internalized homophobia arc, and characters like Tora that center so much around girls and manliness are some of the most fun to explore them with imo. You could say he's one of the least likely characters in hq to be queer since he's THE woman-lover next to Tanaka and Noya (and Yachi) but that's what makes it interesting—his gay awakening would hit like a tsunami and send him into life-ruining bi panic for months, especially since he's already such a mess when it comes to romance. He gives me the vibes of someone who has no problem with other people being gay but struggles when it comes to himself since it clashes with his conception of what it means to "be a man" or whatever. My point is he'd have the most intense no homo phase to grace this earth and I think that's both super funny and compelling for his character.

Also as a bi person myself it's kind of frustrating how bisexuality is treated online sometimes. It's annoying when a person's queerness is negated the moment they show attraction for the opposite gender, so headcanoning a character like Tora as a bi while still being openly into women makes me happy.

4. The Stage Play They're so silly in the stageplay. Why is he dragging him around by the feet? Why are they screaming at Kenma? Why is he constantly bopping him on the head in the background? WHY IS HE SERVING FACE IN THE PROMO PICTURES? So silly.

(Ignore how blurry these are lol) 5. Ant's Little Sister Bias This is a me thing, I like ships where one party has an annoying little sister who bothers them, sue me. Its cute. Akane and Fukunaga could have the most adorable friendship if you believe.

6. They Match Each Others Energy My first post about them was me rambling about this so just read that, TDLR they're both energetic menaces who match each other's freak.

7. Kenma's Forced Third-Wheel Purgatory Putting Kenma in a situation where Kuroo's graduated and his closest remaining friends are dating and constantly forcing him to third-wheel is just about the evilest thing you could do to the guy. He may be one of my favorites but this is well-deserved punishment for his crimes.

8. Baffled x Baffling Another ship dynamic I like a lot is when one person is unabashedly weird and the other thinks they're a total freak... but likes them anyways. They don't know why they like them. They can't explain it to anyone. Whenever the person does more weird shit they're like "why tf do I like you." But even so they're whipped as hell. Anyways Tora barely understands a single thing Fukunaga does and I think that makes for a funny crush to have.

9. Fukunaga's "Current Concern" Don't have much to add here, it's just proof to me that they hang out idc. Like why are you concerned about what he wants?? Kinda gay dude. Big fan of Fukunaga whispering to him and Tora answering at full volume so other people hear a one-sided conversation.

10. These Fics Before I knew this ship was even a thing I stumbled on these fics while browsing the Fukunaga tag, that's what got the gears turning:

• My favorite one, third-year shenanigans • Peak, need to be signed in tho • College AU • This one is mostly gen Fukunaga but the few moments they have are perfect (also really fun Nekoma interactions overall)

11. Other Miscellaneous Thoughts • Both of them being public figures/lowkey famous in timeskip is cute, like imagine them being each others' biggest fan before they make it big.

• Chef x guy who eats a lot is peak fiction. In this case they both eat a lot. Their grocery bill is a horror story.

• I know it's because characters are usually grouped by year and Kenma ditches them to sit with Kuroo but they're always together in the stands, pretty gay if you ask me

• I hc Fukunaga as genderfluid so Tora still gets his chance to be a wife guy. Him and Tanaka ranting to each other while Kiyoko and Fukunaga drink tea in peaceful silence.

• I think Fukunaga's the type to enjoy people watching and Tora's always doing something dumb. Observing him like a little bug under a microscope

• They're both so silly looking, cartoony ahh designs. I just think they'd make a funny couple visually, they're so square and stick to me if that makes any sense lmaoo

If you got through this whole post you're a real one, thanks for reading to my brain dump. I think about them every day and need more people to understand the vision

[kittenisstarstruck]

Sick Days

How these sweethearts would take care of you when you get sick. Posting because i've been fighting the worst illness of my life and I need an outlet.

KUROO:

You barely register the sound of the front door shutting. Your head is heavy against the back of the sofa, wrapped in a cocoon of fleece and tissues and general misery. A sniffle escapes you before you can suppress it, and then—

“Hey, kitten.” Kuroo’s voice is warm, like the first few rays of sunlight through your curtains. “Still feeling like death’s less charming cousin?”

You don’t bother answering. Just nod weakly, snuggled deeper into your blanket. The TV plays some quiet background show you’re not paying attention to, more for noise than actual entertainment. He doesn’t ask again—he gets it.

A few minutes later, he’s kneeling in front of the coffee table, carefully ladling soup from a pot into your favorite chipped ceramic mug—the one with a little black cat on it. He holds it out to you, already blowing gently over the top.

“Made you the miso soup you like. The one with tofu and those seaweed things you like even though they’re kind of weird.”

You take the mug with both hands, letting the steam soothe your raw nose. “Thanks,” you croak.

Kuroo watches you like a scientist waiting for an experiment to confirm his theory. When you finally take a small sip and don’t immediately grimace, he relaxes.

“There we go. That’s the stuff, huh?”

You nod. The warmth of the broth spreads slowly through your chest, and for the first time all day, you don’t want to crawl out of your own skin.

He reaches over with a thumb and swipes at your mouth. “Soup casualty,” he murmurs, inspecting his fingertip like it’s part of the job. “Can’t have my patient getting soup stains on my couch.”

You blink at him, a little dazed. “I thought this couch was already ruined from that time you spilled ramen.”

Kuroo grins, entirely unrepentant. “That was character-building for the couch.”

You try to smirk, but it turns into a cough. Instantly, he’s pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders, tucking it gently under your chin like he’s wrapping a fragile parcel.

“You’re alright,” he says softly. “Just need rest. And more soup.”

You lean your head on the back of the sofa again, soup cradled against your chest. He sits down next to you, close enough for his thigh to press against yours, radiating that particular Kuroo warmth.

In a world that feels a little foggier, a little heavier today, Kuroo still manages to make things feel lighter. Sweeter.

Even the soup.

KENMA:

It’s raining outside, just enough to blur the windows, just enough to make the world feel far away. You’re nestled into the corner of the couch, swaddled in a blanket so thick it’s starting to feel like a cocoon. Your head is heavy, your throat aches, and nothing tastes right—not even the tea Kenma made you earlier.

You hear the soft tap of bare feet against the wood floors before you see him. He’s holding a small bowl of soup with both hands like it’s something precious.

“I didn’t know what kind you’d want,” he says, voice quiet like he’s afraid of disturbing you. “So I made the one my mom used to make me when I was sick. It’s... kind of simple. Just broth, noodles, a soft-boiled egg.”

You blink at him from your pile of blankets. “Sounds perfect.”

Kenma kneels beside the couch, placing the bowl on a small tray. Then, wordlessly, he helps you sit up, adjusting the blanket so it doesn’t fall off your shoulders. You murmur something that might be “thank you,” or maybe it’s just a tired sigh. He hands you the bowl and watches as you take a slow, tentative sip.

You hum quietly. “Warm.”

Kenma nods like that’s all he was hoping for.

But then you feel it—the tiniest drip of broth escaping the corner of your mouth. Before you can grab a tissue, he’s already leaning in, thumb brushing delicately over your skin.

“Got it,” he says, eyes still on your face, thumb lingering just a moment too long.

You blink at him. “You’re being really gentle.”

He shrugs, sitting back on his heels. “You look like you’d break if I poked you too hard.”

Despite everything, you smile. “Flattering.”

Kenma doesn’t smile back, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to. He pulls the blanket tighter around your shoulders again, tucking it in like you’re something he wants to keep warm and safe.

“I paused our game,” he murmurs. “I can keep playing solo if you want background noise. Or I can just stay here.”

“Stay,” you say, without thinking.

He doesn’t move. Just leans against the couch, close enough for your foot to brush his leg through the blanket.

You take another slow sip of soup.

In a fevered, foggy world, Kenma doesn’t ask you to feel better right away. He just stays, warm and quiet, until the soup is gone and your eyes start to drift shut. And even then, he doesn’t move.

LEV:

Your bedroom feels like a cave—dark, warm, and completely sealed off from the outside world. The blinds are half-closed, and your phone’s been untouched for hours. All you can do is lie there under too many blankets, alternating between being freezing and sweating, your head stuffed with cotton and your throat sore enough to make even a whisper feel like effort.

And then—

CLANG.

Something crashes in the kitchen.

You groan. Loudly.

A few seconds later, Lev pokes his head through your bedroom door. His silver hair is fluffed from rushing around, and he’s wearing an apron you don’t even remember owning. “Hi!” he says like he’s just come home from a long day and not like he’s been loudly destroying your kitchen.

“Are you… okay?” you croak, eyeing him like he might be carrying another metal pot behind his back.

“Better question is: are you okay?” he says, dramatically making his way over to your side. “You look kind of like a sad burrito. A sick-rito.”

You blink at him slowly. “Lev…”

“I know, I know. I’m not proud of that one.”

He sits carefully on the edge of the bed like you’re made of glass. In his hands is a bowl—some kind of soup. He holds it out to you like an offering. “I made you chicken soup. Kind of. It’s mostly broth and noodles and a suspiciously cube-shaped chicken I found in the freezer. But I tried really hard.”

You reach for it, but your hands are shaky. He notices, of course, because he’s watching you way too closely.

“Wait—no, don’t move. I’ll feed you. I got this.”

“I can—” you start, but he’s already sitting closer, blowing gently over the spoon like it’s something sacred. He raises it to your lips, one hand steadying your back.

You take a sip. It’s… not bad. A little salty. Very warm. Weirdly comforting.

“You’re not dying, right?” he asks, watching for your reaction.

You shake your head weakly. “Not yet.”

Lev grins. “Nice. Because if you die, I’d have to keep your plants alive, and we both know that’s not happening.”

You snort—then cough. He panics instantly, putting the bowl down and grabbing a tissue with so much force it tears in half.

Once you’ve stopped coughing, he tucks the blanket back up under your chin, brushing hair away from your face with a surprisingly gentle hand. “You’re gonna be okay,” he says, softer now. “You’ve got me. And soup. Mostly me, though.”

Your body aches, your nose is stuffed, and your brain feels like it’s been microwaved. But Lev is here, fussing over you with his weird soup and his lopsided apron and his warm hands.

And for the first time since this miserable flu took you down, you feel just a little bit better.

MORISUKE:

You don’t even remember texting him.

You just know that when your shift ended, and you slumped against the wall near the entrance of your workplace, head pounding and vision swimming, your phone slipped from your fingers—and the next time you looked up, Yaku was there.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just takes one look at you—damp forehead, pale face, sagging shoulders—and makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl.

“You should’ve called me earlier,” he says, not unkindly, but with that sharp-edged tone that always means he’s more worried than he’s letting on.

“Didn’t wanna bother you,” you mumble, voice like sandpaper.

Yaku raises an eyebrow as he opens the passenger door of his car and gently—gently—helps you in. “You think driving home half-conscious isn’t more of a bother?”

You blink up at him. “I wasn’t gonna drive. Just rest for a minute. Then maybe nap on the sidewalk.”

“That’s not the win you think it is,” he mutters, buckling you in.

By the time you make it home, your fever’s spiked and your limbs feel like they’re filled with wet cement. Yaku helps you inside with a firm arm around your waist, guiding you straight to the bed with no room for argument.

You think he leaves—but you’re not sure, because you blink and suddenly he’s back, slipping your shoes off with careful fingers.

“Soup’s on the stove. You’re not allowed to die before it’s done,” he murmurs, brushing your hair off your forehead.

You try to joke, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “It’s a please don’t scare me like that again, is what it is.”

Ten minutes later, he returns with a tray—tea, a warm towel for your forehead, and soup in a mug with a little crab on the side. He doesn't hover, but you can feel him near—watching your breathing, checking how much you drink, adjusting your blanket when you shift.

You whisper, “You're good at this.”

Yaku shrugs. “I’ve had to patch up plenty of idiots after volleyball practice. You're just my favorite one.”

Your heart flutters despite the flu.

He sits on the edge of the bed once you're settled, brushing a thumb over your temple. “Next time, just call me right away. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the day or if I’m in the middle of something. You’re not supposed to be out there pushing through this alone.”

You manage a weak smile. “Yes, Nurse Yaku.”

His lips twitch. “Damn right.”

And even though your head still aches and your throat still burns, the pain dulls a little—because Yaku is here, and you’re warm, and the soup tastes just a little better with him beside you.

[jaidenk-nox]

Elizabeth midford

Shitty 2AM rant on the Misogyny that Lizzy has faced since the very start but it's the perspective of someone who has witnessed the horrors of Misogyny in Spanish speaking fandom

I should mention that English is not my first language and I'm not very good with it either, so most of this was done with Google Translate and I tried to correct what I could, I hope it's at least readable

I've never seen enough people point out the fact that Elizabeth midford character also defies the "Girlboss" archetype, she is definitely physically strong and can protect herself, but she is A 15 YEAR OLD GIRL, who manages her emotions like someone her age would and also exhibits many neurodivergent traits. I have always been bothered by the way physical strength is misunderstood as a "girlboss" trait, the simplest example I can think of is Ran Mao, she possesses brutal and superhuman strength. but it doesn't make her a girlboss, in case anyone forgets Ran is a girl who barely reaches 18 years old and is exploited by an opium trader who also seems to be involved in human trafficking (implied in the manga). Is she really a girlboss? girlboss when her physical strength is more of a requirement to SURVIVE while working as an assassin and sometimes seductress (which u can tell she doesn't enjoy much)? Obviously Ranmao's social reality is very different as she is a woman of color from the underworld, unlike Elizabeth, who is a white woman from the nobility. However, her physical strength has always been a double-edged sword for herself. Lizzy longs to get married, like any other girl her age, she longs to be protected but says goodbye to it the moment Ociel returns.

I may seem a bit exaggerated, but the way your sociocultural background affects the way you perceive and treat a character has me slightly traumatized, I wish I could give proof of the horrible and degrading treatment that Lizzy has received from the Spanish-speaking fandom.

I am a trans boy of color who grew up watching my female relatives being encouraged to rip their hearts out of their chest from the moment they turned 8yo for the simple goal of caring for and protecting my cis male relatives. household chores, cooking for them, washing their clothes, taking accountability for their actions. Their freedom and childhood as little girls were taken away from them. but none of that was ever valued, I never saw anyone recognize it as sacrifice.

Elizabeth is not a woman of color, nor does she have those demands as a woman of nobility, but she SACRIFICED stuff to try to protect Ciel on her own way, I have seen many people underestimate her backstory in book of Atlantic because "High heeled shoes aren't reason to cry." Everything Lizzy has done for Ciel is devalued, all her suffering has been minimized. losing so many family members in such a short time, losing the boy you were raised to marry your entire life. People truly forget that lizzy is still just a child, that she has the right to mourn everything she lost that day. She had to mourn publicly as a noble girl,she probably heard that she would never be able to get married or would never achieve happiness, I've never seen any adult to stop and think about how heartbreaking and soul shattering that must have been as a 11yo

I have seen how EVERY thing Lizzy does is judged. how her behavior, personality and temperament are criticized. but other characters like Soma just get a pass while doing the same stuff, but this does not just stop at gender, but also at age. people HATE girls and afabs who act like children when they are literally CHILDREN.

How is it possible that Lizzy has faced such harsh judgment from the fandom when there are other characters like Maam red, Lau, Grell, Undertaker who are universally ADORED or atleast respected in the fandom.

I love u Elizabeth midford but ur character makes me violently ill omfg

[starryeyedstray]

sorry i disappeared without notice. i went outside to touch some grass. take this rk1k drawing over a picture of some sakura i saw last week as an apology.

been away bc my partner came home for a week so i was spending time with them before they go out to sea again (hard cut to me looking wistfully out the window). also been trying to get some irl housekeeping stuff that i've been ignoring (i swear it doesn't matter what country you live in, dealing with car registrations and taxes is always a bureaucratic nightmare). also also i may have unlocked a new hyperfixation which captivated me for like 3 days but i think i have wrangled it under control (pls don't ask about it lmao).

i have a real all-or-nothing sort of personality so it's difficult for me to casually engage with things. so if i don't have time to engage in things for a long bit of time my brain is like you are not allowed to even touch this until you can fully commit to it again. which is kinda problematic and leads me to ignoring anything related to the thing until i have "time".

so completely went cold turkey on dbh-related platforms bc my brain was like if you check it a little you have to catch up on all of it at the same time. which is like no i don't have to do that silly little brain. but alas, i could not fight my brain so i completely ignored discord and tumblr and ao3 for a bit.

but i think i'm mostly back now????? idk we'll see how things progress. i'm trying to get my life back to a more balanced lifestyle so i am less chronically online but still have time to keep up with moots and do the art and writing thing. i missed everyone so happy to be back!!

i forgot how fucking happy i get drawing rk1k. like i love drawing these two android boys just being in love. i was giggling imagining them going out on a date to see sakura together. i focused less on my sketch/draftmanship and more on the colors this time and am happy with how well they match the background. not my best drawing of them but i'm trying to be less precious with my drawings bc everything lately just gets stuck in wip hell. overall, happy with it tho!!!

for those of you who care about things like this, the background is a photo i took while visiting hadano in the kanagawa prefecture! this road specifically is part of はだの桜みち or "hadano's cherry blossom road." it was pretty driving through it and walking around town even though it was cold and cloudy. (i swear it was raining all of sakura season)

[opheliachoii]

ᜊ 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 ᜊ

FEATURING : Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Oliver Aiku, and Itoshi Rin

ABOUT : Them as your long distance fiancé, which will unexpectedly becomes your husband in near time. In which you kept your pain, because you couldn't have the right time to tell them about you and your baby.

Note : These are short scenarios for each characters, I was inspired by the song "When She Cries" by Restless Heart. Enjoy reading!

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Itoshi Sae

— You breathed heavily, as you felt nauseous all of a sudden. Timing, your fiancé Sae called. "Hello? Honey! How are you? Currently in Barcelona Airport, I was gonna surprise you that I was coming home, but I couldn't seem to decide what to bring, so gotta tell you instead! How's our new house in London—? H-hello? Baby? Are you there?" You couldn't respond as you were already in the bathroom puking on the toilet.

"Honey! Hello? Are you okay? Hello?" He kept bugging but you were already in the urge to grab a pregnancy test and took it quickly "Honey, this isn't funny. I hear some rattling in the background, what are you doing?"

You gasped as you saw the results. "Positive." You sternly spoke "Positive? What do you mean pos— oh. Oh. My. Gosh. BABY! PLEASE REST! I'LL BE HOME 6 HOURS IN TIME, PLEASE BARE WITH ME!" You suddenly cried because you couldn't bare the pain you're feeling right now.

Shit. Don't tell me she's..

— Timeskip —

Sae came home just in time, he was carrying a lot of stuff, but he dropped everything except a bottle of water and some pills.

"BABY I'M HERE! I KNEW I HAD TO TRAVEL BACK TO YOU FOR A CERTAIN REASON! I just had a feeling.." There you laid on the corner of the bed, still feeling nauseous.

"Sae, b-baby, I'm.." You stuttered. "Shh.. I know, I'm here. I got water, and some pills to reduce the nausea you're feeling."

He knelt down towards your belly level "So you're coming soon huh? Better take care of your mom here, she's getting dizzy and sick, I don't want that you know" You slightly chuckle "Love, you're so weird." You stated.

"Oh, if I'm weird, I wonder how the little one will be- I'll be teaching this little buddy how to play soccer the moment they come out- but- what if it's a girl— EVEN BETTER!" He ran around the room like a kid full of excitement, this wasn't his typical way of acting, but he was way too excited to be a father. You suddenly cried, "Baby, hey, why are you crying? I'm here now!" He gently sat next you "I-" You sniffled "I thought I was going to suffer alone.. I thought you wouldn't come back.. I thought I would end up being a single moth—"

"Shh" Sae placed his index finger on your lips, signaling you to no longer continue "Honey, I'm here. You're not suffering alone, You won't be taking care of this baby alone. I've been out of the country because of my career, but now, I can set aside my soccer career. Taking care of you and the baby is much more important, don't worry. I've cancelled all my schedules, I'm free the whole year. If I needed to go back to Spain, I'll make sure you'll come along this time. At least I can keep an eye on you" He pecked your forehead as reassurance.

"I will never leave you, so don't cry, it hurts seeing you cry and suffering with pregnancy. I love you okay?" He kissed you once again and you nodded as you felt reassured everything was alright.

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Michael Kaiser

— You and Kaiser were happily talking with each other through the phone, as you were sipping tea in your balcony floor, admiring the view from there as you talked with the love of your life.

"Once our final game is done meine liebe, I'll come home straight to you and we'll binge watch your favourite series the whole night, how does that sound? Hmm?" His voice muttered from the other end of the phone "I'd love that schatz, I'll be wait—" "Baby? Liebe? Hello? You were saying?" Kaiser's eyes widen as he heard vomit noises from the end of your line "Baby? Are you okay? Hello?" Your voice echoed the bathroom as you cried, you hated the feeling when you puke, it was the worst "Liebe? Are you vomiting?" Kaiser was already too worried "Baby I think I'm—" You continuously vomited. "Ahh!! Where's the pregnancy test?" You yelled.

"Preg— PREGNANCY TEST?!?! SCHATZ DON'T TELL ME.. Fuck." He ended the call immediately.

You didn't noticed he ended the call because you were too stunned from what you saw right in front of you.

"P-positive? No way.. It can't be.. He's still away for three months.." You felt nauseous once again and went back to the toilet seat to puke.

— Timeskip —

"Shit, shit, shit" Kaiser cussed as he was packing stuff in his luggage. "Michael? Where are you off to?" Ness barged in without notice "I'm going back to Germany." Kaiser coldly spoke "Huh? But our training has not completed yet- besides, what's the rush? You told your fiancé that you'll be back after three months."

"Correction, my wife. And she needs me, soccer can wait. Tell Ego, I'm heading out, I'll make it all up, but cannot promise as well. For now, my liebe needs me." Kaiser seriously stated as he finishes packing.

"I'll be going now, tell Yoichi he's in charge now, ciao!"

"I- but-" Kaiser didn't let Ness finish and he slams the door from behind. Ness sighed "It's like he's having a baby or something-" He just shrugged and went off to tell everyone what happened.

— Timeskip —

Kaiser arrived just in time. He unloaded his luggages and extra stuff from the back of his car "Gosh, I hope these stuff will help her.."

He arrived towards your room, he sees you resting peacefully in bed. He caressed your cheeks and kissed your forehead "I'm home meine liebe." He scanned around the room, and saw your leftover tea outside the balcony, and he took it and closed the unclosed sliding door from the balcony.

He surveilled the bathroom as he saw what a mess it was, and he saw a pregnancy test lying on the bathroom counter "Fuck, it's positive?! YAHOO!!" His loud voice woke you up.

"Micha?" You swore you heard a familiar voice. "Liebe!" Your ears rang as you heard it clearly.

You jumped from startledness as Kaiser came out the bathroom with the pregnancy test in his hand. "SCHATZ?!? WE'RE HAVING A BABY!!!?" He jumped for joy as he immediately pounced himself in bed with you kissing you non-stop.

You suddenly cried. "Liebe, why are you crying? I'm here!"

You suddenly laughed "Micha.. It's just that, I thought you would come back much more later.. I did not expect you to come home so early.. I'm overwhelmed.." You spoke lightly.

"Oh my süßer Schatz, I can already sense, wait no, I felt you were in need, especially you're carrying our mini us. It's unacceptable if you're suffering alone" His words made your tears fall "Aww Micha.."

"Now now, you want ice cream? As soon as I landed, that was the first thing I bought for you" He proudly said, which made you laugh "That's the pretty smile I wanted to see, now I'll go get it okay? I'm sure little one wants one too hmm?" He spoke to your belly. He kissed your tummy and your lips "Ich liebe dich, schatz. Remember that. I'll go grab the ice cream and extra snacks and we'll watch the series? Like I promised" He winked at you as he left the room to grab the food he mentioned.

You simply laughed, too lucky to have loving fiancé, or should I say, husband, and a father of your future child.

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Oliver Aiku

— You were cooking ramen for your dinner, as a way to stop your stress over your fiancé Oliver Aiku. He was quite a pain in the ass, but, despite your fiery anger towards him, deep inside you were wishing he would show actions as a proper fiancé.

As you were cooking, tears started to flow. Mood swings suddenly hit you out of the blue. You wiped your tears, turned off the stove and went to the dining room to eat. You were thinking your menstruation was coming up, so you didn't bother to worry.

You were alone, as usual. Aiku has been very busy with his soccer career, and he's always either with Shidou or Sendou. You didn't mind because both were also your friends and constantly updates you wherever they are when Aiku couldn't.

Sendou sent a voice message using Aiku's number saying; "Hey Mrs. Aiku~ your fiancé is at it again, so many people interviewing your bae, what a busy man he is, don't worry, his fangirls won't be able to approach him because I lead them to me and Shidou instead! And damn they're hot!"

You simply let out a small chuckle as you were listening to their update, but at the same time you sighed, wishing Aiku himself would update you instead.

You left your phone open as you went to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

— Timeskip —

You came out the bathroom looking fresh as you just came out from showering. You were about to grab your novel to read when your phone rang, it was Aiku's number, you prayed it was Aiku who was calling this time, but sighed as you saw Shidou instead. "What now?" You let out a tone of annoyance "Hey bae! Just wanted to call on behalf of your hubby, he asked how were you?" Shidou spoke.

"Eh? He could've just told me directly- is he really that bus—" You paused for a bit, as you swore you felt a painful twist in your stomach "Really that what?" Shidou asked "I said is he really that busy to the point he couldn't ask me direct—" You paused again.

"Bae, if you keep on pausing on a wrong timing for fun- stop it, it's not funny" He sassily rolled his eyes "Wait- I need to go to the bathroom real quick.." You went to the bathroom and leaned your phone near the mirror, still on video call with Shidou.

"Uhm- bae? You good— oh my goodness-" You vomited and cried "I'm not feeling well Ryu.. I don't feel good.." You vomited once again "Oh shit- SENDOU!! CALL AIKU IMMEDIATELY! HIS WIFEY IS PUKING RAINBOWS AND SHIT-" Shidou panicked.

You cared less on what's happening on call, you couldn't think straight because your stomach really hurt and the nauseous feeling is taking over, you suddenly cried because of the pain your feeling right now "Shit, must've been the ramen that I ate.." You gaslighted yourself "Bae! When was the last time you had your period?"

You paused for a moment..

"NO! IT CAN'T BE!" You yelled as it echoed around the bathroom as you intensely find a pregnant test somewhere in the room.

"Bingo! Shit, this can't be." You groaned as you took the test.

Silence took over the atmosphere "Uh- Bae? Hello? Sendou! She's quiet!" Shidou panicked again. "Huh? Hello? Our beloved Mrs. Aiku! You good there?" Sendou asked from the end of the line.

You suddenly let out a sharp scream "DAMN WOMAN- CALM DOWN!" Shidou yelled back.

"I'M FUCKING PREGNANT.. IT'S POSITIVE!" You cried "Well shit, I'm telling Aiku, if he ain't listening I'm going to smack the shit out of 'em" Sendou spoke as Shidou ended the call.

You sat there in the bathroom floor spacing out, you soon started crying, knowing that Oliver wouldn't be able to be by your side during your pregnancy days. You sighed and suddenly felt nauseous once again and felt to urge to vomit once more.

— Timeskip —

The front door has been slammed open, with running feet speeding up the stairs.

"My beloved!" Aiku barged in the room, looking for an nauseous fiancé. He checked the bathroom and saw how messy it was, and the smell of vomit was still a bit humid.

"Shit. Where is she?" He scanned every corner of the room until he spotted you spacing out on the couch of the balcony, your eyes being lifeless looking. He soon felt guilt all over him.

He slowly opened the sliding door leading outside the balcony "Baby? I-I'm sorry... I'm here now.." Silence. Silence was the only reply he got from you. "Is it true? It's positive? I-I'm going to be a father?" Still silence.

He sadly sighed and knelt down to see your eyes "My love? Please, talk to me.."

Your eyes soon teared up "You're the one to talk." You replied coldly. "Baby, I'm at fault here I know, I just wanted to clarify if I'm gonna be a fath—"

"WHO SAID YOUR GOING TO BE A FATHER? AFTER HOW YOU TREATED ME?" Aiku went silent. "You asked me to marry you and I said yes, and this is the treatment that I received?!! I feel the mockery Oliver.." You cried.

Oliver gulped "I'm sorry okay? I've been so busy, relying that I finally got a soon-to-be wife, but I forgot to give time.." Your tears continuously flowing.

"Hey baby, don't cry, it's not healthy for the baby.. I don't want to harm you and our child.. You want me here? I'll do it. I'll sacrifice my soccer career. I'll be a proper husband and a father." He stated.

"All you do is talk. Not a single action shown." You replied with a weak tone, tears still flowing.

A few seconds you felt surprised because Aiku is now carrying you in bridal style "Hey! Put me down!" You demanded "You said wanted some action, I'll show you what I just said, I mean it. Again, I'm sorry my baby, can you forgive me?" He asked in a pleading tone.

"Make me." He suddenly kissed you, a soft and warm kiss, which melted your heart. He pecked your cheeks, nose, and forehead after "Now can you forgive me?" You chuckled. "Fine, but I'm still mad at you. I only ate ramen for dinner just so you know." Aiku's eyes widened.

"Am I hearing it right? Ramen?! I don't think so, that's not healthy for the baby. I'll make you soup, it's much more healthier" He demanded "Pfft- since when can you cook?" "Pardon me? I can cook, I just couldn't show you because I was too busy, now I'm here, you'll know" He winked.

You couldn't help but to giggle over his cheesy expression.

A few minutes passed he came with the soup as promised "Here my love, served warm and tasty~" He said as he sat next to you on the bed. He soon fed you spoonful of the soup "Mmm! Tasty indeed! Wow honey, you do cook! Cook for me some time please!" You praised "From now on I'll cook for you everyday!" "Promise?"

"Promise."

— Timeskip —

Shidou and Sendou arrived with extra foods and drinks, "You almost lost the keys- we could've been locked outside-" Sendou said "Eh- they're here anyway, they can open up for us" Shidou replied.

"What if they're asleep-" Sendou added as he placed the paper bags filled with foods and drinks. "Nah they're still up, LOVEBIRDS WE'RE HERE!" Shidou yelled.

"Oh for crying out loud Shidou keep it down!" Sendou spoke sternly as they went up the stairs.

"I told you they're still— awake.." Shidou lowered his voice as he approached your room "See what I mean-" Sendou stated.

You and Aiku were comfortably sleeping in bed cuddling and Aiku continuously caressing your hair. Aiku slowly opened his eyes and spotted his friends and did the "shh" expression, as a sign to keep it down.

Both gave him a thumbs up and Shidou quickly took a pic of you two peacefully resting and swiftly went back downstairs.

Aiku had enough of his friends mischief, he checked up on you and saw you calmly resting, a smile plastered on his face.

"I'm never hurting your precious soul again.." He whispered and gently gave you a peck on the forehead, and he gently went back to sleep.

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Itoshi Rin

— You finally rested as you've just finished your spring cleaning. You let out a sigh, opening your phone with no notifications from him.

"As usual, no update from him.." You closed your phone and decided to read a novel to pass the time.

The novel you read made your tears drop as you relate to the main character of the story, having a cold and airy fiancé is quite hard.

You closed the novel and stared at the ceiling blankly. You thought of something on how to get Rin's attention. But you suddenly remembered, he still has that caring and loving side. Suddenly your phone popped up an notification, it said;

Rin : [ Hello love, I'll be coming home later in the evening, what do you want for a souvenir? ]

You let out a small chuckle, you seemed so contented and happy from a single notification from him.

Your brows suddenly furrowed, as you felt nauseous and weird, you tried to brush it off with a smile. But as you were replying, that uneasy feeling came back again.

You felt the urge to vomit so you quickly went to the bathroom and threw your phone to the bed, but as you threw your phone out of impatience, you accidentally pressed the call button.

But, Rin immediately answered it. Which was a miracle, but he wasn't the type to really ignore you, he proposed to you for a reason, he loves you.

"Hello? Darling? Uhm- your camera seems to be facing the ceiling-" Rin felt confused "So- uhm- about my question- you kept typing, I expected a long message but—" He paused as he heard a vomit from the end of your line "Honey?!" His tone suddenly changed "Hello?!?" He kept calling your name but no response, instead he keeps hearing you vomit from a distance.

"Shit, never knew this time would be coming.." He said as he ended the call.

On the other hand, you tried to gasp for air. You couldn't help but sob "What is going on with me?!" You cried.

You spaced out for a bit and vomited again.

You went back to bed to see your phone laying on the spot, you noticed some notifications, so you continued messaging Rin without knowing what happened before.

You : [ Anything Rin! I'll accept anything! Thank you for asking! Your presence is what I need the most tho :( ]

After messaging Rin, you decided to take a nap.

— Timeskip —

Rin finally arrived, barging in as if someone was chasing him. "Darling?!! I'm home!" He yelled as he placed all his stuff down and running up the stairs panting.

"HONEY!"

"AHH-" You gasped as you immediately sat up from your slumber "Rin?! What happened?!" You worriedly asked.

Rin ran towards you with a worried face "Are you okay? I brought everything you need" You suddenly felt overwhelmed as his actions were different so suddenly. "H-huh? Rin? Is everything okay?" You seemed confused.

"Oh my gosh" He grabbed a pregnancy test from his pocket "Here take this." He said as he assisted you all the way to the bathroom "What is this? H-hey!" He shuts the door for you.

A few minutes passed as he was walking back and forth from the bedroom, waiting for you to come out, when you did, he immediately checked up on you "So?"

You gulped "I-I'm.." You cried "Shh.. Hey.. Tell me" He sweeps a stray tuft of hair off your face so he could see you clearly. "I'm pregnant.." He went silent for a moment and gave you some space.

You were scared, so you silently cried.

"WOOHOO!! I'M FINALLY GOING TO BE A FATHER! I'M TELLING NII-CHAN!!" He happily yelled as he hugged you tightly.

"Why are you crying? Hey, I'm happy.. Finally.. I'm sorry if I couldn't be here in time.." He kissed your cheek.

You cried even more now, your a crying mess "I just wanted you here!! I'm so lonely in this huge mansion.." He suddenly chuckled "I'm sorry, you know there's a reason why I'm always away right?" You nodded. "I missed you a lot too, I'm just- not good at expressing on what I feel. I'm sorry.."

You went silent for a moment. "I'm sorry for not knowing that.. Why don't let's help each other hmm?" You suggested.

"That's a good suggestion darling, great timing. I won't be away for awhile, so I'll be here doing husband and father duties." He coldly stated, but you felt the care in his tone at the same time.

"I love that!"

"I love you." He said as he cupped your cheeks to kiss you warmly.

[gemapples]

my new year's artwork won't be done until tomorrow, but i at least wanted to make a little post celebrating it before it turns! see you in 2025 ❤️

going into a personal ramble about my year under the cut. im mostly just talking to the void but feel free to read if you want!

this year has been. wow. if i had to put the definition of an emotional rollercoaster it would be this year for me

so much happened, yet so much DIDN'T happen simultaneously?? i don't really know how to think tbh 😭 i think above all i'm relieved it's over and i get to (hopefully) have a fresh start again

i got a lot accomplished this year. i graduated and got a degree which is a huge thing!!! i went for and accomplished lot of difficult things i had to do that i wouldn't even think about considering last year, and i feel my mental health has been beyond improved from it. last year i took note of how i consistently put myself in a box to make others happy, and i noticed i significantly improved in regards to how i see myself and made sure to put my own health first. there's still MUCH more to work on, god, and i've still been struggling with it, but i've been taking steps and that's all that matters to me. i want to continue taking better care of myself next year

on the downside though.. a bunch of personal stuff i had no control over happened in july and to put it in a way, i was scared for my life. it's settled now, and even got better, but i haven't been that terrified in a very long time. it was so difficult for me to cope with and i'm very grateful it's not something to worry about anymore, but i would be lying if i said i wasn't scared for what horrific event next year will bring for me. i noticed the past few years, something awful happened that made me seriously question, doubt or even straight up hating myself :') and i'm not looking forward to experiencing that again next year in the slightest. but at least, i'll try to get better at it

i've felt pretty disappointed and unhappy with my art this year as well, for whatever reason. it was mentioned to me that it could just be burnout (i HAVE been drawing more consistently than i ever have throughout this year, especially due to college, which makes sense) but whatever i try to do experimental-wise, i just can't be happy with it. i think the major reason is the way i've been shading, because i might be instinctively holding myself back. i don't want my art to be too eyestrainy or give people headaches by looking at it obviously, but i feel like as a result i've been making my art feel too "muddy" for my liking. so! i decided one of my new years resolutions will be to be way more spontaneous with the way i use colors and try not to put that box on myself. one thing i can say is, i tried a Lot of new things with art this year, including working on complex backgrounds, putting in way more effort into pieces enough to be full illustrations, etc etc. and i hope to break a ton more boundaries next year too. regardless, i can't thank you enough for your continued support. it seriously means a ton to me. i know i repeat myself a lot but i always mean it

hopefully 2025 will bring us more kirby too! we haven't had a full year without a new kirby game since 2021, and even then forgotten land got revealed! so i get the feeling something HUGE is coming. also looking forward to pokemon legends z-a too (im insane over it). and the hypothetical manager magolor plush. <- copium.

thanks for reading, and i hope 2025 is a fun, enjoyable year. hopefully it'll be nice to us

~ mac ❤️

[redladydeath]

Gonna pull a Proto Vox post and put all my "Vox's kids die as children and reunite with him in Hell" stuff here so the reblog chain doesn't get too long. All the prompts included are from @storm-ismyusername.

Okay, so, the "Vox's kids die as children AU." I came up with the image of Vox keeping his kids in a fish tank first, but upon further reflection, I've realized that it doesn't really line up with the timeline I've established.

Vox's children were 7 and 10 when he died (1957)

Vox worked under an overlord for 3 years after his death until he broke free, started his own business, and met Alastor (1960)

He and Alastor were friends for 6 years until they fell out (1966)

Vox gained official overlord status 2 years later (1968). By the time Vox had the resources for the fish tank plan, his kids would've been 18 and 21.

The only window of time where Thomas and Sarah can die and still be children is 1957-1961, so it would have to happen when Vox was still in the employ of his overlord. I actually think the idea of struggling single dad Vox is really charming, so let's go with that.

With that background, I'm not sure if Vox would feel the need to do the fish tank thing since they went a decade without anything going wrong. Maybe it exists, but Sarah and Thomas aren't confined to it 24/7. Everyone already knows they exist, so they're allowed to move around the tower as they please (they are absolutely not allowed to go outside, though).

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 1-Dying 2-Going to Hell 3-Reuniting with your dead Dad (who now has a TV for a head) Would any of their Sinner features be different? Is it weird I can see Vox being more fatherly to Sarah and Thomas than he was in his human life? So when Sarah & Thomas die as kids does Vox find them before or after his big fight with Alastor? If before, what would Alastor make of the situation?  How long does Sarah and Thomas fend for themselves in Hell? A few days, a few weeks, a month, a year?  Did someone find the first? Did Vox only learn his kids were in Hell when someone was using them as blackmail against him? Did Sarah and Thomas watch as their father brutally murder their kidnapper in front of them?  Maybe another Overlord (like Carmilla, Zestial, or Rosie) found them and gave them to Vox because they felt threatening children was beneath them and drew the line at hurting kids. Wait what if Alastor found them first? What would he do with them if he did?

Okay, so Sarah and Thomas die somewhere between 1958 and 1959. They still drowned, maintaining their aquatic theming, but I'm not sure how exactly– could've been from their mother driving under the influence and crashing the car through a bridge's guardrails, could've been just regular drowning at the beach or something. Their mother survives, so they land in Hell alone (I have no idea what an 8~9 and 11~12-year-old could've done to get sent to Hell, but let's just move on).

Not sure how Vox finds them. In the main AU, they found him by recognizing his voice in an advertisement and seeking him out, but at this point, Vox is just some random nobody. Let's just assume he got extremely lucky and happened to come across them 1-30 days after they first arrived, but before anyone else thought to scoop them up. Vox is horrified that they're dead and in Hell and privately swears to permakill his wife for letting this happen if he ever sees her again. He brings them back to his shitty little apartment and starts trying to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to take care of children in Hell.

Despite the circumstances, Vox is actually a better father in Hell than he was on Earth. He has nothing to his name other than a shitty errand boy job, a tiny apartment, and his two small children who he thought he'd never see again. While the stress of having to provide for them is a beast, losing everything sort of forced him to get his priorities in order regarding them. They become far more tight-knit than when they were alive as Vox is forced to spend more time with them and get creative when it comes to meeting their needs.

It's all quite the adjustment for Thomas and Sarah. Dying and trying to survive on the streets was as traumatizing as you'd expect. Reuniting with your dead dad and having to adjust to living in poverty is also a lot to take in. Every day, they're stuck in a one-room apartment with gunshots constantly going off outside and explicit instructions from their father to be as quiet as possible and not open the door for anyone– very different from the upper-middle-class suburbanite lifestyle they were used to. Eventually, their dad will come home with cheap food, they'll spend some time together, and then all curl up in their shared bed and try to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a comfortable life, but it's definitely more intimate than how things used to be. Thomas starts letting go of some of his resentment of Vox since he can tell he's actually trying now, and Sarah's view of him as A Good Dad, Actually solidifies.

Eventually, Vox secretly kills his overlord, starts his first business, and is taken under Alastor's wing. Things become more comfortable for the three of them, with Alastor being something akin to a weird but fun uncle to the kids. Things are looking up for the family as Vox starts to build power and wealth. It's horrifying for the kids when Vox comes home one night without a head and swears vengeance on Alastor, but that incident only adds to Vox's upward momentum. After ten years of struggling in Hell, Thomas and Sarah (or rather, Fineas and Ondine) find themselves back in the lap of luxury as their father claims his title as the Overlord of Television.

—

Lowkey enamored with the idea of struggling single dad Vox. Have some miscellaneous ideas:

Vox doesn't have a functional mouth yet, so the kids are the only ones who have to eat. He tries to figure out if he can use his electricity to cook/heat up food.

He's at work all day, so Thomas and Sarah are stuck alone in the apartment with very little to do. Thomas teaches Sarah to read up to a 5th-grade level. They might have a radio to keep them entertained. Whenever Alastor's doing his "screams of dying overlords" broadcasts, they're supposed to shut it off.

Vox has to rediscover some long-forgotten sewing knowledge since the kids need clothes that aren't falling apart.

When he's around, he'll play things on his screen for them as a form of entertainment. It's sort of like making up a story on the spot since Hell doesn't have any television broadcasts for him to tap into yet.

It's always a treat when they're able to go out as a family, usually for dinner. Vox feels bad that he can't provide them with anything nicer than fast food, but the kids are just thrilled to be out of the apartment, eating something "good," and spending time with him.

Due to cabin fever, the kids are much more rambunctious than they were when they were alive.

Vox is trying to decide whether he should let them acclimatize to Hell or continue treating them like human children.

Once Alastor enters their life, Sarah adores him (that is, after she gets over his initial creepiness).

Sometimes the kids will ask Vox why he pours all his time and money into building a television from scratch (and why it has to take up so much of their precious floor space). He tells them florid stories about how, once it's finished, it'll make them the richest sinners in Hell. Thomas helps him with it sometimes.

The kids' chosen sinner names change every other day.

Vox has a whole system worked out to make sure the kids have the building's communal bathroom all to themselves in the mornings (i.e., just play lookout and hypnotize anyone who tries to enter into walking away).

Tom and Sarah have devised some sort of cockroach/bug-killing game during their days stuck in the apartment.

Vox struggles to come to terms with the fact that his kids are never going to grow up. They're going to be 11 and 8 forever, the same way he'll eternally be just a week away from his 38th birthday. 

He's pissed at God/Lucifer/whoever for letting this happen. What could children possibly have done to deserve Hell?

Exterminations are difficult. Vox used to be able to just hide in the electrical grid and wait it out, but now he's got two small children who can't dematerialize like he can.

Sarah has nightmares about losing her dad again, for good this time. The trauma of losing a parent isn't undone by getting said parent back.

Both kids actually feel like they know their father now. He's no longer this distant figure in their lives who only emerges to give them expensive gifts, show them off at parties, tell Tommy he's not doing [whatever] right, and get in screaming matches with their mom. Vox isn't a great dad, but at least he's trying now, and that goes a long way in Thomas and Sarah's eyes.

—

Made Vox's apartment in the Sims

—

Nice touch that the toys are made of paper, something Sarah & Thomas probably made themselves (with a little help from Vox) since I can't imagine there's a huge (children's) toy industry in Hell. A bat on the wall in case of break ins. Various stains. AC. The TV Vox is working on. The bed looks bigger than I imagined, but I guess Sims did have too many options. A bucket of toiletries in the corner to take with them on their trips to the communal restroom. A box full of (all of their) clothes. Two pairs of shoes (presumably Sarah & Thomas'). Oh it looks like Vox managed to find a stuffed rabbit plus for Sarah! Where did he find that? Did he make it himself? An ironing board (makes sense). A small closet with a mirror. A calendar. And a power box (considering Vox's abilities it makes sense to have one near)!

They either got the bunny from a store catering to Hellborn children or made it themselves (Vox is rapidly relearning how to sew, and Sarah has a bit of sewing knowledge from her home ec classes). Vox's income usually goes towards only two things– keeping the three of them alive and building the TV– but occasionally, the shame of barely being able to provide his kids with anything gets the better of him and he'll "splurge" on small gifts. Sarah was delighted with it; she'll take any comfort she can get in this place.

Regarding the bed, yeah, the Sims only has double, single, and toddler beds. It would need to be a decent size in order to fit all of them though. Sarah and Tom are child-sized, but Vox is seven feet tall and has a CRT for a head. If he didn't already have one, he would've needed to get his hands on a bigger bed unless he wanted to sleep on the floor.

It's funny, the Sims only has two options for calendars: a dog one that's a bit too cutesy to really fit the vibes of this place, and a "Sims in uniform" one. Before the kids showed up, Vox's calendar having a bunch of succubi in sexy costumes wasn't an issue, but now that they are here, that thing's going in the trash... until Vox realizes how hard it is to find non-risque calendars in Hell.

—

I can totally see Sarah (& maybe Thomas) calling Alastor “Uncle Alastor”. Would they call Rosie “Auntie Rosie”?

Vox has them call him "Mister Alastor." Regardless of how emotionally invested Vox is in their relationship, he's very afraid of coming across as overly attached and scaring Al off. Having his kids refer to Alastor as family feels wrong, so having them keep things respectful, yet formal seems like the better option. Rosie would definitely tell them to call her "Auntie" if she ever met them, though.

I wonder what nice things Alastor would do for the kids? Do you think they sometimes appear on Alastor’s radio show? Oh now I’m picturing Alastor and Sarah singing “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile”! Soooo Cute!!! Maybe that’s how they find out about Sarah’s Siren abilities?

Depends on if Alastor does shows that aren't just live audio of overlords being murdered. If he does, then I can see Vox offering to lend him a hand with it and Alastor, in return, telling him he can bring his kids along. From there, yeah, it'd be absolutely adorable if Alastor put Sarah on a stool to reach the mic and sang a song with her ("Never Fully Dressed" wasn't written until 1976 but shhhh).

Would Vox ever give the details of his and Alastor’s falling out? (Though I think Sarah & Thomas would eventually connect the dots.) It would be funny if Alastor was still super nice to the kids even though he and Vox are rivals.

No, I don't think Vox would ever elaborate. Explaining it to the kids would require him to reflect on why it went wrong to begin with, so he just... never does. Alastor remains respectful and friendly if he ever runs into the kids again, but those occasions would be few and VERY far between, given how possessive/protective Vox is of them.

Vox being a good dad to his kids is so sweet!! Nothing brings people together like shared misery!! I can see a cute bonding moment where Vox teaches Sarah how to tap dance (since his leg is fine now).

Oh, no, Vox is never teaching either of his kids how to dance. Singing, piano, stage presence, maybe, but never tap dance.

—

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 4-Your Dad scooping you up and locking you into a fish tank for decades. 5-Valentino

It's... weird when Valentino enters Vox's life. They hit it off immediately, and as time goes on, Vox wants to incorporate Val into more aspects of his life. The kids throw a spanner in the works, though. Messing with children is the one line Valentino won't cross, but he's still not exactly the type of person you want around your kids. Vox can only listen to his better angels for so long, though. The two of them make a deal where Val agrees never to do anything to harm Vox's kids in exchange for [something], and Vox introduces them (he's lowkey planning on moving in with Val eventually, so they might as well get it out of the way instead of springing it on them).

Val's charming and fun when he first meets Fineas and Ondine, but it doesn't take long for them to realize that he's not a good guy. Those misgivings solidify once the tower is built and they all move in together. Vox works hard to keep his kids as sheltered as possible, but it's hard to keep certain things on the down low once you're all living together. It's a lot to come to terms with– realizing that not only is your dad in a relationship with another man, but said man is a violent, sexually exploitative monster who's constantly breaking up and then getting back together with him. Val's generally decent with the kids, but he's still this uncomfortable, looming presence in their afterlives. They wish Vox could've just stayed friends with Alastor instead; he was kinda scary, too, but they'd definitely prefer him as a "step-dad" over Valentino.

Would they stay mentally children or be mentally adults in children’s bodies? I honestly don’t know which is worse. (I do think the former’s more interesting though.)

Sort of an in between. They're eternally stuck as children maturity-wise, but they have decades of new experiences continuously being layered over that stunted baseline. Sinner children generally come across as kind of unsettling in a vague, undefinable way. They're clearly still kids, but there's something about them that's just... off.

What do they think of Vark? The metal image of child Sarah and Thomas riding Vark like a horse will not leave me.

Ondine loves Vark (and all of Vox's other sharks). Fineas is scared of him but tries to act tough about it. This is why Ondine is the favorite /j

If Sarah still discovers her Siren powers would Vox still try to find a way to capitalize it?  Now I’m thinking of Vox forcing Thomas, Velvette, Valentino, and maybe his employees to watch Sarah sing and to clap every time. 

Depends on how skittish Vox is about putting his kids in the public eye in this scenario. He wants his family to become sinner aristocracy, but literally broadcasting your weak point to all your rivals isn't exactly a good idea. If he decides to throw caution to the winds (and can compartmentalize his own childhood trauma), I can see him putting them in his shows. Sinner children are fairly rare, so if a piece of media needs kid characters, their only options are Hellborn kids or sinners who look like children for one reason or another. If Vox decides to keep them cloistered, then yeah, mandatory "watch the CEO's daughter sing" meeting at 3:00. Everyone's docile and spaced out afterwards, but that's a bonus! (at least, Vox says it is)

I can see a scenario where Valentino is screaming at the kids and Vox attacking Val to protect his kids, or in general calling out Val & Vel anytime he sees them treat his kids poorly.

Val and Vel know better than to do anything to threaten Vox's kids, although, yeah, there are probably some times when they snap at them and then get into arguments with Vox. Not a good time for Ondine, give how conflict adverse she is. Hearing her dad raise his voice at all always evokes a fear response in her. Bad memories.

How often would Sarah and Thomas be allowed to be kids? To be silly and goofy and have fun? (I’m assuming not often.)

They're not really able to do anything but be kids once Vox has the means for them to live comfortably. They're never going to grow up, both physically and mentally, and Vox doesn't really push them to act like adults. It's not quite a "Claudia from IWTV" situation, since any frustration would stem from being stuck doing the same thing for decades rather than not being able to age, but there's elements of that.

How much would Vox try to hide the more inappropriate stuff from his kids? How long until you think he gives up?

Vox tried to keep them pretty thoroughly sheltered during the first decade or two, but yeah, eventually he resigns himself to the fact that this is just how Hell is. He doesn't let Val flaunt his sex stuff in front of them, but if someone swears in their presence, he's not going to reprimand them (unless they're an employee and he's feeling petty).

Do you think Vox would import cartoons, books, and toys from Earth for them?

He can't import physical objects from Earth, but he can replicate them as best he can based on the Earthly broadcasts and descriptions from newly arrived sinners. There's probably at least one VoxTek employee locked up in a sweatshop somewhere who's stuck building toys for their contract-holder's children.

Would Vox bother with giving them a proper education?

To the best of his ability. Vox was actually "homeschooled" back when he was touring with his parents, although in reality, his education was put on the back burner, and once he finally started attending real school at age ten, he was reading at about a first grade level. During that first decade in Hell, he'd try to teach Sarah and Thomas things here and there, but he didn't really have the time to commit to it. Thomas ended up teaching Sarah a lot of stuff during those days stuck in the apartment, but given how he died at age 11, they only got so far. Once Vox hit it big though, yeah, he was definitely hiring tutors to finish their education. In 2024, Ondine and Fineas are better educated than most adults, despite being eternally stuck at ages 8 and 11. Sort of adds to their uncanny vibes, despite how cute they appear.

Once Vox becomes an Overlord do you think he buys/customizes a robofizz to act as the kids nanny/bodyguard? What would the kids name them?

Oh yeah, totally. The kids have non-synthetic tutors/nannies/bodyguards, but it gives Vox some peace of mind to have one who he knows he can "trust"/control completely. The kids might name it "Sparky," after their dog, but "Claudia" would also be fun, just for the reference. 

...or fucking renesmee. ondine would be behind that.

Possible reasons Sarah & Thomas are in Hell: 1-They’re mother (& father) told them to keep silent to certain illegal things she(/he) does, so they’re technically accomplices. 2-Partially responsible for the death of someone, which could count as manslaughter. 3-Accidentally ate human flesh, cannibalism. 4-Killed a puppy by accident, puppy killing’s pretty evil.

Sdfghgfdfg. I can see Thomas accidentally shooting an animal with a BB gun (or doing it on a dare from his friends). Right now, I'm leaning towards Hell working on The Good Place rules, where your destiny depends on the net impact you had on the world. Poor Tommy and Sarah got sent to Hell just for being rich, privileged, White children from the 1950s with bad parents.

Man, Exterminations must have been terrifying. I can imagine them huddled in the corner together, hearing the screams of Sinners and hoping they aren’t next. Does Vox try to explain the Exterminations to them? How would Sarah & Thomas react to finding out Angels come down to murder everyone each year? Such a contrast to what they were taught Angels were like.

Definitely. It was so much worse back before Vox had the resources to build an Extermination bunker. Vox can go incorporeal, but the kids can't, so he had to find hiding places for the three of them that weren't already taken up by other sinners. Thomas and Sarah probably watched their dad get at least one person permakilled by hypnotizing them into giving up their spot and walking out into the onslaught. Once Vox becomes an overlord, it's less stressful, but it never stops being scary. Sarah especially struggled with the idea that angels can be cruel; the Oxrights were your typical church-going 1950s family, and Sarah used to draw a lot of comfort from religion, particularly after Vox died.

—

Now I need an in depth view on Sarah’s newly broken view on Angels. If she had a chance to talk to an Angel, what would she say to them? I want to see Sarah interact with all the Angels in the now (Sera, Emily, Lucifer, Vaggie, Lute, Adam, etc.). I need to lock Ondine & Sera in a room together so Ondine can ask Sera how she can slaughter thousands yearly? What would Sera’s reaction be? How would Sarah react to Adam, the first man, is the leader of the Exorcists and is all around a terrible piece of garbage? How would Sarah react to realizing Lucifer, The Devil, is actually kinda nice (or at least a more pleasant person to be around than Adam)?

By the time Ondine and Fineas would have an opportunity to meet most of those characters, they've been in Hell for 65 years, so the idea that demons can be kind and angels can be cruel has had plenty of time to settle. Sera probably wouldn't handle having a sinner child questioning her morals very well. She'd most likely react in a similar way as she did when Emily discovered the truth, insisting that she was only doing what she had to. The fact that Sera and Sarah have nearly the same name is making things even more uncomfortable.

For some reason child Sarah and Thomas meeting Lucifer sound hilarious, how do you think that would go down? Would they even believe he’s The Devil? It would be extra funny if Lucifer’s great with kids and they get along swimmingly. “He's pissed at God/Lucifer/whoever for letting this happen. What could children have possibly done to deserve Hell?” When Lucifer visits the Hotel would Vox scream at him why his 9 & 12 year old kids were sent to Hell? (If he recognizes him as Lucifer) How would Lucifer react? (Or would Vox do that to Charlie when he realizes she’s The Princess of Hell? Charlie would probably be in tears afterwards)

If Lucifer and Charlie were ever confronted with the "Why are children able to be sent to Hell?" question, they wouldn't take it well. Lucifer tries to defer responsibility, saying that it's not within his control: he doesn't decide who does and doesn't get into Hell... but it is still his kingdom, and he's chosen to stick his head in the sand instead of doing anything to help his most vulnerable "subjects." Charlie, yeah, she'd be devastated realizing kids can be sent to Hell for no clear reason and no one has tried to do anything about it.

–

Mental image that refuses to leave me: Vox walking in on Fineas about to shoot an apple off his terrified assistant’s head as Ondine watches apprehensively. He takes the bow and arrow from Fineas, scolding him… and then hands him a crossbow instead. Way more fun that way.

–

The kids are kind of afraid of Valentino, but they think Velvette is the coolest person in Hell. Ondine likes to follow her around like a shadow whenever she's working on her fashion lines, and Fineas maybe sorta kinda has a tiny little crush on her. Velvette hates children, but she can't tell them to fuck off unless she wants to get into an unnecessary fight with Vox, so she has to tolerate them when they try to interact with her.

–

How much has Sarah and Thomas' morals decayed? How much empathy can they show to a regular Sinner? Do they still see regular Sinners as people and not toys or pets?

It's weird. Vox has been encouraging them to dehumanize those under contract with him+the other Vees for decades; they signed up to work for them, so of course the kids should be allowed to do whatever they want to them. Since they died so young, Fineas and Ondine's morals are malleable, plus they both want their dad's approval, so they just... do as he says.

Ondine doesn't enjoy hurting people, but she can still be a bit of a handful in this verse. If she wants to play dress up with random tower employees that day, well, they have no choice but to drop everything and be her dolls until she moves onto something else. She'll also occasionally use her siren powers to make people do silly things (Vox loves it when she does this; he's been teaching her to hone her hypnotic abilities for years and is always so proud when she manages to successfully bend someone to her will). It comes from a place of genuine playfulness rather than malice, but that's cold comfort to the people she's messing with.

Fineas has much lower empathy than his sister and is far less squeamish. If he wants to play a game that could end in someone getting seriously injured, he does it; if he's in the room when one of the Vees is mauling an employee, it doesn't faze him. The fact that these are people, not toys, doesn't really register to him because, well, his dad said it was okay for him to do this, so what's the big deal?

If Charlie could get them away from Vox, she could probably teach them that just because you can treat people like rag dolls doesn't mean that you should, and that a person's feelings aren't automatically less important just because they sold their soul. They're not bad kids at heart; they're just children who've been taught to be careless with people because their dad gets a kick out of it.

"The kids are kind of afraid of Valentino, but they both think that Velvette is the coolest person in Hell." This is so cute!! Does Sarah get into fashion design?

As much as she can. She's only 8, so she doesn't really have the attention span/ability to fully commit to it, but she thinks it's fun. Velvette might actually end up spending some time with her because Ondine came up to her with a notebook full of drawings and Vel decides that picking apart this third grader's doodles was a good use of her time. She's not nice about it, but eventually it turns into more of a genuine critique than simple roasting since Ondine won't leave until she's looked at all of them.

–

When video games arrive in Hell, Fineas— as you would expect from an eleven-year-old boy— is enamored. If you play online games in Hell, there’s probably been at least one time when you’ve heard a pre-pubescent boy’s voice in VC, spouting the most obscene series of curse words you’ve ever heard in both English and Spanish. He has all the rarest gear in the game and will threaten to have his dad send snipers to your location if you grief him.

-

After a few decades, Vox starts lying to his kids that he somehow checked with Heaven and knows for a fact that's where their mother is. It's easier to let them think that than have them start asking about them finding her in Hell, and it gives him an easy cover story if he ever manages to find her and follow through on his plans to permakill her.

-

Vox uses his status as a “family man” to further bolster his public image. It’s a narrow tightrope to walk, trying to project humanity to the customer base and invulnerability to his colleagues/enemies, but if you ask him, he’d say he does it well. It helps that it’s not entirely a lie: Vox is a vicious, cutthroat overlord, but he also has two small children who he’s ironically much closer with in Hell than he was on Earth.

-

Imagining Vox teaching Ondine how to hypnotize people is just the cutest thing to me. He's trying to explain these abstract mental concepts to an eight-year-old. She doesn't fully understand that what they're doing is wrong; she just likes spending time with her dad. Vox is literally glowing with pride whenever she manages to do it right. They might sing together since that's how Ondine's powers work. Adorable evil daddy-daughter bonding is killing me.

[spaceorphan18]

How an animated series saved Remy LeBeau (again)

It's a bit of a hyperbolic title, but catchy, non?

I was looking over my comic collection as I've decided to reread X-Men's 60 year history over the course of the summer. And it got me thinking about a dead period of 616 canon that I've never actually read. Around the time Rogue hooked up with Magneto and scooted off to the Avengers, I decided I'd be done with comics for a while. And didn't start again until Rogue (and Gambit) came back to the X-books in 2017's Astonishing X-Men. But it made me wonder -- What happened to Gambit in that time??

Well, after his solo ended, he flitted around to X-Factor and hung out with X-23 and then kind of went 'poof' for a good long while.

Why? I can only guess the same reason this is a running motif with Gambit. There's something about him that drives the X-Office crazy. I'm not here to speculate what or how or who of it all. I don't know enough about the back end of Marvel to give concrete answers. But I think what has surprised me (recently) is that he's definitely a fan favorite character.

[Yes, I know he can be a divisive character. Yes, I know elements of his character from the 90s have not aged well. Yes, I know there are those of you who can't stand him. Don't really care - you can get off my lawn, thank you.]

Which got me thinking -- Gambit's original popularity, I believe, stemmed from the original X-Men Animated Series. He had just started showing up in the comics at the time, and had barely any kind of page time. And the X-Men TAS swung and was a hit. And so was Gambit.

I don't really know that Gambit would be around today if TAS hadn't done its thing. Would the X-Office have kept him around? I really have no idea.

But they did try to get rid of him. That was the point of leaving him in Antarctica. And things were just never the same after that. Claremont tried his best in the early 2000s. And then Deathbit happened. Carey's run wasn't bad. But Carey clearly had an agenda for other things... And then, Gambit just kind of faded into the background. (I hear his run as a side character for Laura (X-23) was good - but I haven't read that.)

Bless Kelly Thompson (always) for sparking life back into him with (and his relationship with Rogue). And bless the fact that she actually married him to Rogue. Yes, I understand comics -- my god look what they did to Peter and MJ, no one really gets to be happily married except Sue and Reed. He and Rogue are now really tied together in a way that I don't think is going to be undone any time soon.

Even if the X-Office still isn't thrilled with the guy. Krakoa era has been less than ideal. (I can't comment on it fully - I haven't read much of it, as I'm behind on my comic reading.) But I've heard rumors that one reason Thompson was let go was that she didn't want Gambit killed off. And she didn't like the direction they wanted to take the character.

Which leads me to X-Men 97. Killing him off sucked. Really. As a fan, it really sucked. But - my god, the reaction to it. Gambit was amazing. And all I've heard lately is good things about the character. There's been a Gambit resurgence in the best way. He may have went out -- but he went out with a bang. X-Men 97 made an emotional impact with people. And that changes things.

Gambit is cool again.

And I love it.

What's even more exciting is the fact that the X-Office has changed hands again and Gail Simone on Uncanny who (if her Twitter/X feed is to be believed) is really enjoying writing the character. Which means (hopefully) at least another year or two in the comics of some (hopefully) great Gambit stuff.

And maybe there will be some changing of hearts and minds in the X-Office.

It's actually very exciting.

And, guys, I really (really, really) doubt he'll be completely gone from X-Men 97, too.

Because Remy LeBeau never stays down for long.

But as a fan, it's nice to see him be on top again. And I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon.

[hbheavensent]

Blitzo/Millie/Moxxie

Ohhhh I.M.P, I have to say these are probably my least favorite redesigns (BUT I LOVE MY MILLIE, MILLIE I LOVE YOU!!)

Starting with Shitzo, I realized I actually do like his signature look a lot so a majority of it boils down to giving him a new outfit that reflects that he grew up in greed. Oh and making his scars look a touch more like real scars, and blinding him in one eye. I thought it'd be interesting down the line that while Fizz suffered the worse injuries, he could be accommodated properly while Blitzo doesn't really have the money to be able to. Also in my vision, Blitz is a "crossbreed", his mother being who we see in the show- an Imp from Greed who cheated on his abusive father with a Succubus. It also gives Cash a reason to give Fizz more attention and for Blitz to face a bit more strife. I also imagine that before Blowing Up And Acting Like He Don't Know Nobody (ref), he had small Succubus wings, so his trauma literally clipped his wings! Also I've killed off Barbie Wire, she's dead. Sorry gamers. But! That only gives Blitz more of a reason to force himself not to get attached to anyone. For the STOLAS and Blitz stuff, it can all still happen relatively the same without them meeting in childhood. He breaks in, Stolas sees a opportunity to talk to ANYONE outside of his awful situation regardless of circumstance, Blitz tries to steal the book and ends up fucking the bird- Though it is soon after this that Stolas tracks it and Blitz down. Stolas suggests the arrangement of sex for book, because THAT was the best and only good sex he's ever had, and Blitz agrees. It's made more clear that at the start they BOTH see this as a transactional thing with Stolas gaining feelings later and Blitz not letting himself. I should probably save all that for another post though lmao-

For Millie I wanted her theme of being sorta downtrodden like the rest of I.M.P to focus on her background of having a working class Imp family in Wrath. Like most people in Wrath, they provide for the Forever War, a manifestation of Satan's rage which all Imps have a duty to keep at bay unless it overwhelms the ring. This manifests itself as shadows of humans fighting, tanks, dust storms, etc. Millie has been primed to do this all her life but what she really wants is to make a name for herself much like Blitzo. She could meet him in the same way, being a somewhat famous hired mercenary but not really assassin. I like what they did with her in Ghostfuckers (even if I don't LOVE that ep..) and I think her having that emotional intelligence is important with her coming from a big family. I want her arc to focus on her doing things selfishly and doing things for others and what the right balance is for her. She somewhat selfishly left her sister behind to take care of the farm at a critical moment when her parents were starting to get too old to handle it, but now she compensates for that guilt by throwing herself at other peoples needs like Blitz, Loona, and Moxxie. Also I notably made her less "thicc" and more plus sized/farm strong. It makes more sense to me for her to be properly sturdy. Also I thought it'd be cute if a rarer trait of Wrath Imps was to have cow/hog-like tails. <3 Moxxie, my beloved loan shark baby who looks just like his papa. I'm SO fine with a running theme of the show being generational trauma and how it cascades, but I wanted to tweak Moxxie a bit for sure. I love that he's a theater nerd, which I imagine his mother was too and why they bonded so much. His father can still be a misogonistic and questionably very homophobic asshole, I think it adds to it really. But I am making Crimson a loanshark, which also would give Moxxie something in common with Blitz and why Blitz took him on. Very much seeing himself in Moxxie and visa versa, it was more of a bonus that Moxxie is crazy good with guns. I still like his arc being along the lines of him learning to be confident and not rely on external validation. Anyway I love Moxxie, honestly my main inspiration for changing up his background was because he looked SO much like Millie that it was bugging me.

Also as a teaser, this is what I have stored up for you guys <3

[darcytaylor]

You may be tired of this discourse and in that case, feel free to skip this lol, but I was thinking about some things today after rewatching S3 and seeing the new pap attack on N&JD and Tom H getting fed up with Zendaya being swarmed by fans, and I was thinking, what would I do if I was in their position or I was the normie partner of a celebrity? Like, I can't even imagine dealing with something like that, but if I had to, what would I do?

I was also thinking about why I was really put off by A's latest photo dump and I've come to some realizations. I was aware of her existence early on but I wasn't deep into the fandom until May, so I wasn't phased by the stuff with her and L that came out after. I didn't look into her much because frankly I wasn't interested and I was very vocal about people giving her grace or barring that, at least ignoring her. I felt like whatever she did, the fandom would find a way to hold it against her, so she might as well live her life. That is why when people spoke of her "playing SM games", I scoffed at it and interpreted her posts as typical GenZ SM activity. But that started to change for me when she posted those two stories where she literally bent over backwards to show us that L was her phone background, and resurfaced again with the latest summer dump, where she went out of her way to post parallel photos with L when he'd made every effort to make this paid-for promo as free of any hints to his private life as possible. And I started to think, why would she do that, especially if it was a sponsored post (which, mind you, is still up), which he would be expected to be professional about? If I was the partner of a celebrity and they clearly wanted us to be private, and made every effort to make it so, why, out of everything I could be posting, would I post things that would be sure to rile up a trigger-happy fandom and heap further hate onto my partner? Why, after everything that's happened, would someone do that? The only reason I can think of is - they care more about the attention they're getting from being with that person than the person's actual wellbeing.

Both him and his entire friend group changed their posting behavior post-Sorrento. Everyone... Except A. Now, I don't know what goes on in her comment sections, I don't go there nor do I wish to, so I don't know what she might be responding to with her posts. However, when everyone else in their circle has pulled back and learned lessons about fame and unhinged stalker behavior, why hasn't she? I used to make the argument of, well, she's a model and dancer, and therefore she has to maintain an SM presence to book jobs. Yet... These kinds of posts - the hints, the random limbs, the implied company, the specific timing and locations... These are things that contribute nothing to her professional aspirations. Most of them are empty landscapes and very generic photos without her in it. There's no purpose to them other than to maintain a back-and-forth with a small but captive audience that's build up around her. I now realize that I got this all wrong because to me, desiring and actively seeking out attention or fame is an alien concept - I don't understand why anyone would. But something about watching Portia say "my girl" to Pen after her speech and then remembering that that's exactly what A's mom commented on the papgate pics made me realize that I need to look at this from the POV of her having gone on a talent show and having a dad who's a DJ and how chasing fame (or in A's case, it's moreso notoriety) might not just be normalized, but perhaps even the "done thing" in her household. If my mom saw me plastered all over the tabloids with me and my partner looking freaked out and miserable, I'd really take issue with her if that was her reaction. What about that sordid incident was to be celebrated??? I understand now why so many people felt strongly it had been staged.

So now that my lens has shifted, I've been analyzing her actions from the POV of - what if they're calculated? And while L isn't entirely without fault here, he has course-corrected, so what's her endgame here? Both of their careers seem to have suffered. If I'm not mistaken, she used to be able to book better gigs, and while the Hollywood downturn is something that is happening, one has to wonder if all of this drama hasn't impacted L's ability to book roles, especially when compared to his costars' bookedness and busyness.

I was also thinking about all the WT-related events that she awkwardly tagged along to and what I would've done if I was in a situation like that, getting bombarded with hate from strangers over my very existence, but I liked the person and I wanted to stay with them. And honestly? I wouldn't have gone. Or at the very least, I would've been as discreet as possible. And while it's clear that it's L who had to invite her and he's the one who waffled on launching her until someone else did it for him, she could've conducted herself differently and at least flown under the radar more. Yet she elected to be photographed on red carpets, stepping out of cars with his family, knowing that people would pay attention to that group of people. What did she think would happen? That the public would swoon over her, someone with very little to her name? And it's like, at this point, she could stop. She should stop. L, R, S all have, to the best of my knowledge. But she can't seem to help herself. She had to make it known that she was in Spain with him, and for a second time, too. At this point I can no longer reasonably attribute these patterns of behavior to her age or inexperience. She's not changing her ways because she's feeding off of this. I mostly wasn't paying attention, but I was also naive, because I don't think like people who desire fame think. I just wonder where L is at with all of this and why he's going along with it still, is it rose-colored glasses? Does he feel guilty for everything that's transpired? Is he now stubborn and feeling petty, so he'll keep indulging her and trolling the fandom by proxy?

I was thinking about how there are so many celebrities whose partners I couldn't pick out of a lineup - I know they exist, but they aren't front and center. Some even have rabid female fanbases, yet they've managed to keep their private lives on the DL. I couldn't tell you what David Tennant's wife looks like, or Dan Stevens', or Jamie Dornan's, to name a few. There are actors who have been with their partners for a long time but almost never take them to events and they're still fine. So, I don't know if N&L landed in the spotlight too late in life so they still think of themselves as regular people and couldn't really anticipate this, but in A's case, given everything I know about her now, I'm honestly done giving her the benefit of the doubt. My biggest question now is - why does L continue to? And for how long? Is he complicit in these games or does it not even occur to him that's what they are, like in my case? I guess if we don't look too closely at things, we can't see them for what they are.

Anyway, I hope you're having a fun rewatch like I did and I hope our faves are safe and happy and DM burns to the ground, amen.

I wasn’t too sure if I wanted to respond to this ask because I was concerned it might add unnecessary drama to this whole situation. However, I thought about it and realised that you seem to be approaching this with a lot of empathy and depth, which I really appreciate. Your long, drawn-out paragraphs (which I definitely appreciate!) tell me you’ve put a lot of reflection into this.

You raise some interesting points about navigating a relationship with a public figure, especially when the partner isn’t someone in the public eye (and maybe they want to be and their family wants it for them as well). It’s understandable to wonder what someone would do in that position, especially when you see posts that seem to clash with the other's desire for privacy. Something about it feels like it's part of a social media game - or even a subtle taunting of the fans/fandom.

I do like that you questioned if it could be Antonia being Gen Z and that it might just be part of that always-online mentality, where sharing life moments (even indirectly) is natural, without considering public repercussions. But at the same time, if you’re dating a public figure who wants privacy, it would make sense to be more mindful. Part of being in the public eye is knowing that people will observe your every move, and when those closest to you don’t understand that reality, it will create issues.

I understand the shift in your perspective. When actions repeatedly go against someone’s implied boundaries, it raises questions about motivation and whether they’re prioritising attention (self-image or fame) over respecting the relationship they are in.

I noticed the change in the friend group after the Sorrento trip as well (I think I also mentioned it somewhere in a blog post), and while I will say Antonia did change her habits a bit (she deleted a number of Instagram posts of her trips with Luke), I agree that out of everyone, she’s still the one who continues to post and make it known that she may be with him (but then fan's also imply and spiral over the smallest things as well). It’s strange to continue doing that when you know these posts will only fuel ongoing speculation rather than help reduce it. And honestly, I think that, at this point, reducing speculation could only be beneficial for Luke. Antonia's posts seem more detrimental than supportive.

I’m sure fame would be hard to navigate, and I think it’s fair to say that, in certain situations, some people might see an opportunity to maintain or even leverage attention, regardless of how it might play out publicly.

In the end, I have no idea why any of the people in this situation continue to do what they’re doing, or why they keep posting things that only fuel more drama. I’ve mentioned before that maybe this is Luke’s way of not letting the fandom dictate his life - but, like you said, maybe he’s seeing things through rose-coloured glasses, or even feeling a sense of guilt or responsibility to make Antonia happy given the amount of hate she’s received. It could be any combination of loyalty, stubbornness, or simply him wanting to show support, even though the public perception won’t be positive. Luke could be trying to balance his desire to keep things private with Antonia’s approach, which may be different. But we won’t know for sure without knowing him personally (or being him!). It's all speculation and guesswork.

In the end, these kinds of things are complex, and I think reflecting on why people make the choices they do is absolutely valid and normal. But like I always say, there are so many possibilities for why things are taking place and unfolding the way they are. There are countless options and scenarios, both now and in the past, that could explain each action. Even if something seems clear, as fans, we don't know anything about motivations or anybody’s relationship status.

I really enjoyed reading your ask - it offers a lot to consider about how fame and notoriety affect both personal and professional lives, especially when someone’s actions seem intentional or at odds with their partner’s approach to privacy. So thank you!

I am having fun with my rewatch! I also wouldn't mind if DM burnt to the ground!

[taffywabbit]

[kind of a longwinded vent post i guess, i was gonna just make a sort of tired joke post but then it actually wasn't a joke oops. don't feel obligated to read this, i just need to put my thoughts somewhere]

man. i am wayyy too damn busy this week to be getting hit with as many heavy thoughts and potentially entire-perspective-on-life-altering realizations about my identity and mental health as i have been. why can't i ever have important stuff to think about during literally any time when my life affords me the time and energy to think about it properly. it just ends up being loud background static behind my existing stress every time because it's like... i obviously do have tangible stuff i NEED to prioritize, and it's reasonable for me to put that first, but i still end up feeling like i'm somehow being cowardly or irresponsible by putting off the internal processing that's demanding i pay more attention to it.

i'm literally just living that one post that's like "i'm probably nonbinary but i have a job so i don't really care about that right now" or whatever, except i'm already trans so swap that first part out for a growing list of possible untreated mental illnesses, an increasingly-hard-to-ignore identity crisis, the looming dread that i cannot keep treading water in my current stagnant career forever. also, most notably, a general sense that i have no idea where my life is going or what i want from it now that i've finally broken down my mental wall labeled "you can't pursue anything else you want until you get your ass in gear and start transitioning already", gotten some joy out of that, and then realized there wasn't much else it was actually obstructing. and it's like. breaking that wall DID at least give me a clearer view of things and now i have plenty of other important stuff i could unpack, but it feels like i'm just stuck on a nonstop conveyor belt of "actually i don't have time for that because i'm behind on work again" that prevents me from making real tangible progress in figuring my shit out, even now.

like i am aware this is very much a "GOD i need to talk to a therapist" type situation but guess what! seeing a therapist costs a lot of money (yes, even in canada) and takes time and effort to set up, and if i want those things i'd better get my work done! except oops now i'm once again too busy to do anything BUT work, because i burned out and slowed down and the work took too long again and now i no longer have the time for the genuine proper break i needed in order to do anything for myself besides earn money.

one of the most frustrating parts is that HRT has seemingly made me a lot more emotionally sensitive and outwardly reactive (as it reportedly does for many people), and instead of that being the cathartic experience it should be, it usually just manifests as all my shit very visibly unraveling at the seams as i spiral and make an ass of myself and push people away, where i previously would've at LEAST been able to hold it together a bit better. so not only do i feel like i'm not making progress, it's constantly taking all the energy i can spare just to avoid crashing out and burning all my bridges and leaving myself with no external supports. my friends are kinda all i have right now, and i'm painfully aware that the more i procrastinate sorting out my issues, the more danger there is that i'll damage my relationships with those i care about if any of this internal pressure leaks out at the wrong time. which then becomes yet another fear to add to the pile of stuff i'm not equipped to deal with right now

idk. i was about to instinctively say "i'm fine tho" and that's very clearly a lie, but like. i WILL continue to manage at least. i'm not in any physical danger from myself or others, nothing is gonna happen to me, you don't have to worry about anything like that. i'm just overwhelmed and exhausted, and i don't have any good outlets for talking about this shit anymore besides just dumping it on friends at random, which feels shitty and i would really prefer not to make a habit of it. i just feel like i'm waiting for some kinda stroke of good fortune to come along and perk me up and give me enough of a jolt of extra energy to start doing things differently, kinda like last year when i suddenly stumbled into getting my transition stuff started and then THAT gave me enough confidence and excitement to seek out an ADHD diagnosis a couple months later. just something to break me out of this routine temporarily and help me feel unburdened enough that i can do SOMETHING, y'know?

but in the meantime i feel like i just need to like. signal in some way that i am Really Going Through It, if only to counter my own instinctive efforts to always maintain this illusion of perfect functionality and never cause any problems or allow anyone to worry about me or be annoyed by me ever. professionalism be damned, i make art for a living, i do not have the luxury of separating my job from my self-expression and trying to pretend everything's going smoothly in terms of work will always kinda inherently come at the cost of trying to convince myself it's going smoothly in my personal life too. to some extent i suppose MOST people don't - the shit that affects you at home is gonna affect you at your office job too, sooner or later - but in my case the false wall of work-life balance is like a two-way mirror, because drawing is also my most treasured hobby and lifelong source of comfort, and any outward-facing concept of professionalism i construct only exists for my audience. there's no fooling myself with this stuff, it's all i have and all i do and the only difference is that sometimes people pay me for it so it becomes "work", but not the kind i get to clock out of at 5pm on weekdays. if i'm going to talk about what i'm going through and be open about my feelings at all and encourage people to see me as a living breathing person, it inherently is going to make me look like i'm also complaining about my job, because my job is to make art and my art (paid or not) conveys a part of who i am. i cannot present myself as brand-safe and a human being at the same time, at least not without driving myself (more) insane

anyways this isn't an essay or anything, i don't have a conclusion? thank you for being here i guess. i feel like i'm at least breathing like 5% easier after getting all that rambling out of me, so that's something at least? i will now go buckle down and try to finish my remaining art obligations and then hopefully when that's done i will make a responsible choice and wait long enough before piling more work onto myself to just like. breathe for a sec and seriously consider if there's perhaps a better way to be doing what i'm doing so it does not make me crumble into dust. and also maybe pick like ONE life-shattering realization or crisis to poke at a little bit, if i feel up to it. hey btw did you know this whole post was originally going to just be a very short one where i half-jokingly reflected on the possibility that i might actually be autistic, but then started thinking way too much about why my brain refuses to latch onto that thought and keeps pushing it aside with a big stick labeled "who cares, i'm tired" and this post happened instead. yeah. anyways that's the most recent small addition to The Pile in case you were curious, yippee

[strawwritesfic]

Male!Loki x Female!Light Elf!Reader: With Dying Colors

Summary: Not everyone gets the chance to change their fate. Loki Odinson does so by accident, and finds the place he has been searching for all his life.

Rating/Tags: G (Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War; Not Canon Compliant with Loki; References to Loki's Gender Fluidity; Mild Hurt/Comfort; Mild Language; Florence Nightingale Syndrome; Homesteading; Depressed Thor; Background Platonic Relationships)

Word Count: 11,465

Requester: Anonymous

Request: "Hey could I plz request a Loki fem reader? Loki somehow manages to escape Thanos (cause we’re all still in denial of his death) but gets separated from the rest of the Asgardians on the way to Earth. Severely injured he chances it and uses magic to escape and lands in the forest somewhere. He wakes up in a warm cozy cabin all healed but remembers bits of his time here…being fed, washed and nursed back to healthy [sic] by a woman. Reader is an earth witch/half light elf who was banished for her human side and takes care of him but now he doesn’t want to leave cause he starts falling for her. Coincidentally her forest meets up with the forest near the Avengers Compound so she sends them updates on his health, but she also protects him cause Ross wants him locked away in the Raft. She’s more powerful so no one really dares trespass on her land."

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: Wow, it sure has been, like, half a minute, right? This took me a long, long time to write. I had to add scenes; I had to research homesteading; I had to do some adjustments after discovering I was writing a completely different theme towards the end...I've been working on it so long that my own mother started throwing shade at me for it. I don't know for sure if I'm back-back, but I am making an concerted effort to get back to doing things I love. I did my best to complete every aspect of this request, and I think I managed it in a reasonable fashion, save for not telling the story via flashbacks. As the author, I do have some veto power, and I just didn't think the story warranted that.

Ao3 Version Here

With Dying Colors

Lights. Ever-swirling, ever-flashing, ever-sparkling lights. An array of dancing colors surrounded Loki Odinson. He could see the endless shifting of them even with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The lights danced around him—no. A more apt description would be that the lights rushed around him. He could feel them all moving so rapidly past him that his long, dark hair blew out behind his head, though there ought not be any wind in space.

If this was dying, death was not so nearly as horrible as he'd feared.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Upon further rumination, dying was plenty painful. Thanos must have decided crushing Loki's windpipe had not been punishment enough. Now the Mad Titan sought to crack Loki's skull open with Mjölnir. For Odin's sake, Thanos had already cast Loki to the floor like refuse! Must he suffer further indignities before being allowed to pass?

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Evidently so. The lights having faded into a void of black, Loki pressed his eyelids still tighter as the pain lanced through his head.

—just get it over with already, you overgrown prune, is what Loki intended to say. But he didn't even get the first two words out in understandable form. Trying to do so made him feel as though someone had stuffed his throat with shards of broken glass. A metallic taste filled his mouth, accompanied by some sort of warm liquid. He coughed the molten stuff out from within his burning chest.

"Shhhhhh," someone nearby murmured.

Whoever they were, they weren't Thor. That the voice belonged to a woman made that obvious; Thor had never shared Loki's predilection for swapping genders like clothing. Another of Thanos's monstrous children, perhaps?

Something wet prodded Loki's pounding forehead, and he lurched away—or attempted to. Once again, he found himself with little control over his own body. His shoulders whacked against a hard object that similarly could not be Thor. Even his brother wasn't that flat and unyielding.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Oh, for the love of—" the same voice said crossly.

The cool, damp thing near Loki's face vanished. He heard a squelching sound, then rapid footsteps crossing a floor—a distinctly not metal floor.

Bang! Bang! Ba—

A door opened.

"Miss [Name]," barked a new voice—not an Asgardian accent, Loki noted, and belonging to someone wholly unfamiliar to him, "if you don't—"

"I would request that you keep your voice down, Mr. Secretary," said the woman from before, albeit in a much cooler tone than the one she'd used with Loki.

A thump. Boots on wood, if Loki was not mistaken. His head hurt so badly even the softest noise felt like another blow, but he thought he could identify that much. Whoever this man was, he was now in the...room? Home? Escape pod? Loki finally had to know.

Though his eyelids felt welded shut, he pried them open to find himself somehow miraculously no longer aboard either the Statesman or Sanctuary II. Instead, the sight that greeted him was that of a small room. Night dark as pitch pressed against the windows, leaving only a multitude of candles burning on seemingly every surface to light the place. Their trail his eyes followed all the way to a doorway where two figures stood: a pale-skinned biped with a mustache towering over another biped entirely swallowed in shadows.

"And I," said the mustached one, "request that when I summon you, you come to see me. And if I have to come retrieve you, I request that you open the door at once."

"Mr. Secretary, I would remind you that I am under no obligation to follow your 'summons' at all."

"The Accords clearly state—"

"I may have signed your Accords, but I am not one your chess pieces to be moved at your whim. There were provisions put in place for people like me."

"People like you. Not people like him."

The man pointed in Loki's direction without taking his eyes off the woman. Had Loki been able to speak, he might have had a snide response prepared. But he couldn't, and he didn't, and the smaller figure stepped in front of the finger to shove the man's arm down.

"Please try to remember whose territory you are on, Mr. Secretary. Those provisions do allow me to act in self-defense," she said.

"Self-defense! Aiding and abetting more like." The man let out a scornful laugh. "That man is an intergalactically wanted war criminal!"

"Some might say the same of you in the near future, Mr. Secretary." The woman made to step away, but the man reached out to grab her shoulder before she could get very far.

"I have every right to take him into custody," he said.

The woman wrenched her bare, [color]-skinned shoulder out the man's grasp. "He is in no condition to be moved, especially not to your godsforsaken rock. Do you also have the right to watch him die?"

Though the man said nothing in response, Loki could see a mutinous glitter in his eyes despite the flickering candlelight surrounding all three actors in this little drama.

"He won't receive proper medical care at the Raft. We both know you taking him would be as good as a death sentence."

"I couldn't care less if the little bastard dies!" the man burst out. "How many of our good men and women have died because of him? And you think he ought to be allowed to make a full recovery and murder more?"

"How many more might die without him?" The woman's voice had dropped, and yet she sounded so firm that there could be no question that she meant what she asked. The man stared down at her, speechless once more, but this time his eyes had gone wide. "They're already here, aren't they, Mr. Secretary?" she went on in an innocent tone. "The monsters looking for the Stones? How many of your precious Avengers have already gone missing?"

A shock of ice-cold lightning flashed through Loki's very core. Stones? Avengers? Could he really be so cursed? Whatever stroke of luck had seen him use enough dark magic to escape Thanos with his injuries had been no luck at all. He'd only gotten away as far as Midgard, where at least two damned Infinity Stones waited for their master to claim them. Worse, by the sound of things, Thanos's children had already arrived and already won.

As his heart and mind raced, a burst of white light filled the room. The glare of it burned Loki's already aching head and left a smear of purplish blue across his vision. Terrified, able to breathe only shallowly without bringing more blood into his mouth, he blinked as fast as he could to recover his vision. He could do nothing but accept his fate now, whether that be at Thanos's hands or those of the angry man's, but he preferred to retain some semblance of dignity either way this go-round.

When at last he could see clearly again, however, Thanos did not stand in the wreckage of the building. Nor did any of his children, Loki realized, nor the man from before. Only one person remained, and that was the woman. She had her back toward him as another white light surrounded the door she stood in front of.

Then she turned her face to him. Their eyes met across the dark room. Her angry expression melted at once.

“Oh,” she said, “you’re awake.”

Loki didn’t even manage to open his mouth to answer before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out from pain and fear.

******

Next Loki woke, he found himself in an airy, well-lit room. Day had broken, and clear sunshine beamed through the many windows on the walls. It was the same place he had woken in previously. The extinguished candles clustered across every visible flat surface were proof enough of that. He could also see the same door from before. Only one other shut door led away from where he lie. Nothing moved around him. Birds chirped outside at such a decibel that he could hardly believe he'd slept through their incessant racket.

Except that he still hurt. Bor, he hurt. But Loki had not lived this long without knowing, generally, what sort of situation he had gotten caught in. Throbbing, stabbing, straining, burning, he pushed himself into a seated position against the stack of pillows behind his head. His gasp for air when he made it felt like a knife lodged deep inside his throat. There would be time to catalog his injuries later, perhaps, and less of a chance of that if he didn't seize this opportunity to take note of where he was.

What he saw surprised him somewhat. Though tidy, the one-room structure held a lot of clutter. In between all the candles sat hunks of rocks and crystals, some polished, others rough. Many were Midgardian in nature, but others Loki could tell at a glance weren't local at all. Piles of books in varying conditions littered the polished wood floor. Every window held at least one plant, each different, each in obviously robust health. Perhaps strangest of all was the mound of pillows and knitted blankets a few feet away from his resting place—the only messy thing in the entire place.

Not that it mattered. This homey little cottage would not last long with Thanos on the way, if he had not arrived during Loki's second bout of unconsciousness. Rather than sitting around and admiring the cleaning job, he needed to be finding a way out. His leg screamed in pain as he forced it out from underneath the sheet and put his foot on the floor. He ignored it. What was a little pain now compared to what he would feel when Thanos got ahold of him again?

"You're not strong enough yet for that sort of nonsense," someone said.

He sucked in a breath so swiftly that it triggered another coughing fit. The taste of blood flooded his mouth once more. His head spun with pain. Something rustled softly over by the door. Then Loki heard footsteps for a second or two before he felt a hard object against his mouth. Before he could gather his wits about him enough to shove the object away, a cold, bitter liquid flowed across his tongue and into his waiting throat. Loki spluttered as much of it entered his lungs, and yet even as he did the pain in his chest subsided somewhat.

Once his breathing evened out, the concoction stopped pouring into his mouth. The hard object vanished. Loki inhaled tremulously.

"I told you that you weren't strong enough," said the same voice from before. Now that he thought about it, Loki recognized the voice as belonging to the woman who had kept him safe the last time he'd been awake.

It was she that sat beside him now. His eyes met hers consciously for the first time—beautiful, sparkling, [color], and indignant. Definitely indignant. How women across so many realms and cultures could master the same look was a mystery for the ages. She didn't give him a chance to ask. With a snort, she stood and bustled over to the door through which the mustached man had burst before. After she'd gathered a weaved basket into her arms, she stepped over to a nearby kitchen hung with shining copper pots and bouquets of drying herbs.

"That was hardly my fault," Loki said into the silence. "You startled me. I didn't realize I had company."

The woman smiled at him over her still-bare shoulder. "You don't. You're company. And from the stories I've heard, Loki of Asgard ought to be a little more difficult to catch unawares."

"You'll forgive me if my near-death experience put me a little off my game."

Again, she said nothing. The sink turned on without a touch as you unloaded dirt-encrusted vegetables from the basket. Interesting. Though the room held many trappings of the bog-standard Midgardian witch, Loki had never seen a Midgardian perform any sort of magic, mundane or not.

"And to whom should I direct my thanks for saving my life?" he asked pointedly.

"Me. Mostly."

"Yes, and who is me?"

She paused in unloading her foodstuffs to give him a pursed-lipped look. Then her head whipped back away from him again she replied, "[Name]."

"[Name]." The sound of it tasted interesting on his tongue. "Thank you, [Name]."

"Don't thank me. I wouldn't say you're out of the woods yet."

Loki lifted a hand to his ruined throat. "So I've noticed. And may I ask..."

Well, now that he thought about it, he had a plethora of questions. A given name hardly got him anywhere. But before he could select a single query from the dizzying array crowding his mind, you supplied an answer him:

"I don't know."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know what happened. The cards have been cryptic." Was that a note of annoyance he heard in your voice? "All I've got from them is something about Thanos and the Infinity Stones. I don't even think you’re supposed to be here."

He hardly registered that last sentence. The mere mention of the Mad Titan made Loki feel very cold even underneath the considerable bulk of his blanket. His voice sounded even raspier when he spluttered, "Are they—has he—"

"He's not here."

              "How would you know?"

"I'd know." You dropped your now-empty basket onto the gleaming wood countertop. Perhaps you spotted the horror in Loki's eyes as you turned to him, because you went on, "And if I didn't, my next-door neighbors would let me know."

"Neighbors?" Loki squeaked. Clearing his throat only made his vocal cords throb.

You didn't remark on that, just nodded slowly. "They're the ones that brought you to me a few days ago."

At last, something that Loki could latch on to! Even the vaguest of clues as to his location would aid him in working out a spell. He'd escaped from Thanos once; he could do it again.

"And where, exactly, might your neighbors have found me?" he asked.

You opened your mouth. Loki leaned forward in anticipation. Before you could utter a single word, however, someone knocked on the door. The noise was a far cry from the incessant, head-rending banging of earlier. Still, he noticed that your normally [color] skin paled several shades at the sound.

"That's probably them now," you said.

That didn't quite explain your change in color or the jittery way you rushed over to the door. Loki's eyes followed you there. Too late did he think to pull the blanket over his head to hide himself. In his current condition, it would have been a struggle to do so before you opened it to reveal —

"Steve? Natasha?"

At least you sounded as horrified as he felt by the sudden appearance of two Avengers on your doorstep. They could be no other, though they didn't look quite right. The former had dark hair now, as well as a beard, and the latter had turned blonde. But who else could it be? Who else would show up at Loki's weakest point?

His alarm increased as you threw your arms briefly around Natasha. The alarm swiftly turned into suspicion when he noticed she made no move to throw you off.

"I don’t understand," you said, as you released her and allowed the two to enter your home. "Why are you back? Where's Tony?"

"We're not sure," Steve answered.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than did his and Loki's eyes meet across the room. Loki noticed that Steve's gaze had changed just as drastically as his appearance in the intervening years. Much of the sadness was gone. Now there was just some blazing hardness dampened not at all as he took in Loki's injuries. Loki knew that Natasha was looking at him, too, but he was too busy with his staring contest with Steve to pay her much mind.

Oddly, he felt no satisfaction whatsoever when Steve broke their stare off to return his attention to you:

"How's your patient?"

You didn't miss a beat. "Not well."

"Can you leave him?"

"No."

"Is moving him an option?"

"Absolutely not."

"Better question." Loki started painfully at the sound of Natasha's voice right next to him. She'd come to stand beside his bed, arms crossed, the look in her eyes even colder than Steve's had been. "Do we care what happens to him?"

Of course. Of course Loki had escaped the greatest threat the universe had ever seen—for a given value of "escape," he had to admit—only to die at the hands of the so-called heroes his brother had considered his friends. At least Steve's presence was likely to ensure Loki's death came swiftly. If Thanos's children were already scouting out the planet, perhaps Natasha would even be doing him a favor.

"Rhodey wouldn't have told us he was here if what happens to him didn't matter," Steve said.

"If he can't help us, I fail to see what benefit there is in keeping him alive."

"Help you with what?" you cut in, voice as sharp as steel.

Natasha stepped away from Loki. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Relaxing his muscles made the blood rush through his body so hard it made him dizzy—but it did not distract him from hearing Steve's answer to your question:

"We're going to Wakanda. They can remove Vision's Stone there without killing him."

"We hope," said Natasha.

"It will work."

"Sounds great." You didn't sound like you agreed with your own sentiment. "What do you need either of us for to do that?"

"They'll come, [Name]. We'll have the last of the Stones with us. They'll all come. Maybe even Thanos himself."

"You'd be a huge asset," Natasha added.

"We could use all the help we can get. And that includes Loki."

Suddenly, all eyes were on Loki. He licked his lips. "And why should I bother to help you all?" he rasped at last.

No one looked surprised by this question. Steve's eyebrows lifted slightly before he said, "It's your universe at risk, too. And from the sound of it, you wouldn't have made it very long if Tony and Rhodey hadn’t brought you here."

"Oh, yes, thank you.” His lip curled; he hoped that Steve could not hear his wildly beating heart. "Thank you so much for the rescue. And just in time to be obliterated along with the rest of reality! You shouldn't have."

"We're going to do our best not to let that happen. What about you, [Name]?" he asked as he turned back to you.

Loki felt rather than saw your gaze on him, searching and gentle. He found that he could not lift his head to meet your eyes. Then, in a soft tone full of regret, you said:

"I can't."

"If we lose this, there's a good chance he'll die anyway," said Natasha.

"He'll die for sure without anyone here to look after him."

She opened her mouth, but whatever nasty remark she planned to make next, Steve silenced her with a hand on her shoulder.

"We understand," he told you.

You nodded.

Without another word, the two Avengers left the cabin. You watched them go until Natasha pulled the door shut behind them. Silence buzzed through the room like electricity. You did not move. So long did you stare at the door that Loki half-expected it to burst into flame; the same could be said about the length of time he spent staring at the back of your head. He opened his mouth, found it dry, licked his lips, and tried to speak evenly:

"If you hurry, you could still catch up with them."

You shook your head, turning to head back to his bedside.

"Truly," he said. "I can make it on my own. Why, I only feel mostly like dying now instead of completely like dying."

"And you only feel that good because I've been here to take care of you." From the silver pitcher on the bedside table, you poured some smoking, purple concoction into the nearby cup. Then you sat down on the edge of the bed and held it out to him. "Speaking of, drink this."

A delicate sniff of the cup thrust toward him indicated that this was the same bitter brew you'd forced down his throat earlier. He did not take it. "I am a god. I can take care of myself."

"If I leave, you won't make it until tomorrow. This stuff doesn't keep, and you can't make it yourself." When Loki made no move to take the cup from you, you rolled your eyes. "Same thing if you won't drink your medicine."

He wrinkled his nose, but accepted the glass. Instead of swallowing the foul-smelling stuff, he cradled it in his hands. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"I don't think even one life should be given up if I have the power to save it. That's all," you said.

"Even if they could die anyway?"

"Even if they could die anyway." You cocked your head to one side, regarding him quietly for a few moments. Then you stood again. "Drink up, and get some rest. Hopefully the rest of the world will still be here the next time you're awake."

A sudden surge in pain obliterated Loki's desire to retort. Steeling himself, he lifted the potion to his lips and gulped it down as quickly as he could. The relief came over him almost at once, so heady that it made his head spin. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision. Before he could wonder if this was Thanos's victory, natural sleep overtook him. Perhaps dying this way would be easier, he thought, than what might face him later in that tiny cabin.

******

The potion’s effects only did so much for him after that dose. Loki slept fitfully, plagued by a leaden weight in his stomach that even sleep could not dispel. His dreams ended in exploding planets, in melting cities, in scorching pain. All the magic sedative coursing through his system did was drag him along from one cataclysm to the next. Try as he might, he could not tear himself into the hellscape of his reality—not until a loud clang issued from somewhere nearby.

“Owwww!” Loki snapped as he forced his eyelids open. At least this awakening did not hurt as badly as the last two had. The clear, watery light of morning only worsened his headache a little as opposed to a tremendous degree.

And he knew where he was. That helped. Though the panic searing the inside of his rib cage did not abate, he doubted that anyone observing him would be able to tell that at a glance. At least he managed to refrain from throwing himself out of the bed this time. This allowed him to maintain some dignity as he searched for the source of the noise.

And there you stood in the kitchen. One of those copper pots sat steaming on the island. As though you could sense his eyes on you, you looked up from your stirring.

“Congratulations. The rest of the world is still here,” you said.

How little he cared about this backwater rock when Thanos could set the entire known universe on fire should he succeed in wresting the last Infinity Stone from Steve's all-too-human fingers. Biting back this retort, Loki struggled into a seated position. He was pleased to find himself recovered enough to do so on his own.

“So I see,” he said at last, once he noticed you watching him. “So did your friends…” he didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence. He didn’t quite know which question he wanted answered, or what answer he wanted to hear either.

You shook your head. “I won’t hear back from them unless they get back.”

“Not even your precious cards could tell you?”

“Even if they could, I wouldn’t ask. All I can tell you is that you and I are still standing.”

‘In a manner of speaking.’ Loki took a moment to glower at his weak legs. “Yes. How much longer will that be the case, I wonder.”

“There’s no use fatalizing about it. Would you like some porridge?”

The gears in Loki’s mind took several seconds to adjust to the abrupt change of subject. Unfortunately, the moment he gave any real thought to the sweet aroma wafting from the pot, his stomach rolled so badly he couldn’t open his mouth to reply. Who knew what sort of muck might pour out of it, given all the strange things you’d forced down his throat during your short acquaintance?

“I’ll add something to your medicine to help with nausea.” A note of sympathy had crept into your voice. “We need to get something solid in your stomach before too much longer.”

Making breakfast, gathering food, healing him—what good would all of this effort do in the end? Probably you just wanted a distraction from the inevitable doom you both faced. Thor’s ragtag bunch of misfits had defeated Loki, but he was in no condition to consider himself a threat the same level as Thanos. The Avengers didn’t even have Thor anymore.

Loki’s eyes suddenly burned, and his throat felt all over again the pressure of Thanos’s enormous fingers. The thought of what might have happened to his brother in the aftermath of Loki’s escape would not bear thinking about. Time to focus on other things.

There wasn’t much else to focus on but you, however. He watched as you doled out a serving a mush into a waiting wooden bowl. You ate it quickly. Then you took your pot and carefully spooned the rest of the food into a line of glass jars sitting on the countertop.

Loki noticed that you moved differently than other Midgardians, now that he could stop and take the time to observe you at length—more graceful, more intentional, with no wasted movements whatsoever. Mortals could be taught to replicate such movement, but they could never achieve the same kind of ability as beings superior to them.

Only when you’d easily hefted the heavy object over to the sink did he finally say, “You’re not human, are you?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, expression guarded. “Half,” you said at last, then shifted some hair away from one of your ears. Doing so revealed that ear to end in a perfect, delicate point.

“You’re a light elf,” Loki said wonderingly.

“Half,” you said again, before returning to the chore of cleaning your dishes.

“What are you doing so far from Alfheim?”

“The whole half-human thing? Yeah, it didn’t exactly endear me to my family there.”

“But why here? There are light-elf communes in the realm.”

“Those jackasses at the North Pole declined to house me as well. One human per pole, apparently. And half-humans count.”

“There’s an entire galaxy out there. You could have gone anywhere.”

“By then, I’d figured out I was better off on my own.” Water continued to run over your hands and bare forearms, but these had stilled. Your gaze was fixed on some distant point in time. Then it snapped back to his face. “It was a long time ago. I went to SHIELD, traded a few goods and services for secrecy. And Howard Stark let me build a place near where he was stationed. I’ve been here ever since.”

“That sounds…lonely.” Lonely in a way that Loki understood; lonely in a way he’d always felt growing up, although he hadn’t understood why—lonely in the way he’d been after he had discovered his true heritage.

You shrugged flippantly. “It worked pretty well up until the Accords. Now I’ve always got Ross breathing down my neck.”

“The Accords?”

“It’s an Avengers thing, or at least Ross wants it to be.”

“So you—”

“Are not an Avenger.” Finished with cleaning, you tipped the pot onto the counter upside down, dried your hands on the waiting towel, then turned to face him. “I’ve never been one, and I’ll never be one.”

Loki found his body loosening somewhat after this revelation. Strange. He hadn’t noticed he’d been so taut to begin with. “And yet they came to you for aid,” he pointed out.

“I do aid them, sometimes. But not because some Midgardian law says I have to. Like I said before, if I have the power to save one life I’ll do it, whether or not my neighbors believe that life is worth saving. If anyone can get rid of Thanos, it’s them. But they couldn’t save you.”

“Is a single life worth saving if they can’t?”

“I guess that’s up to the person whose life it is.”

“And the life Thanos leaves them with.”

He noticed then you had gone very still. You cocked your head to one side and regarded him down your nose. “Do you regret it? Being saved?”

Loki inhaled sharply. How could he answer that question? For all the aggravation and fear he felt about his present circumstances, to reply in the negative would be terribly rude. Your bedside manner left much to be desired. Your skill in healing, on the other hand…

The sudden disintegration of half the plants in the room saved him from having to voice his thoughts. Your eyes locked onto his. Neither of you breathed a word. Somehow Loki still knew your thoughts to be the same: The Avengers had at last done the unthinkable. They had failed.

******

Some things Loki grew accustomed to over the years following what came to be called "The Snap." He grew accustomed to the new, permanent roughness of his voice. He grew accustomed to the slight limp from his injuries becoming more pronounced when the wind turned cold. He grew accustomed to eating food only available seasonally, to working for that food, to sharing a smaller space than he'd ever lived in before. He grew used to braiding his lengthening hair each day. He even grew accustomed to the smell of the chicken coop.

That day, the stench was worse than most others. An unexpected rainstorm had blown in overnight, and left everything damp or dripping, from the branches overhead to the edges of the roof. Loki shook his hood back as he made to the door, scuffed his worn boots on the welcome mat, and entered the cabin.

"Breakfast," he announced, somewhat breathless after his run for cover.

You stood already working at the stove. He placed the basket he carried in an empty space near your elbow. After a quick glance at his sodden figure, you reached under the piece of cloth he'd placed over the eggs, pulled two out, and cracked them over the skillet. Only once the food was sizzling did you offer him a warm smile.

Instead of saying anything, Loki swallowed and did his best to avoid your gaze.

"Thanks," you said into the silence.

"I had no issues with gathering eggs for you this morning. I wanted to check on Gunnhild myself."

"How is she?"

Loki hummed noncommittally as he went to a drawer for cutlery to set the table. He couldn't quite put words to the worry he felt nowadays over so much as Midgardian hens of all things. Perhaps he felt obligated to keep alive as many beings as he could after Thanos had taken so much. After finding one of his ladies so lethargic the evening prior, he'd spent a long, sleepless night fretting over her condition until he could trek to the pen under the pretense of helping with the morning meal. Truth be told, Gunnhild had seemed livelier then, but still, his thoughts continued to linger over her when he sat down in one of the two heavy wooden chairs.

The sound of a plate being placed in front of him snapped Loki from his musings. He did not know if he liked the understanding look you shot him as you slid into your own seat across from him. His stomach twisted painfully until he looked away from your face again.

Add that to the somewhat shorter list of things Loki had not grown accustomed to since the Snap.

"I'll put a little something extra in the feed today. She'll hardly know she had a respiratory infection."

More and more often lately, Loki found himself unable to meet your eyes, and when he did force himself to do so, his insides would suddenly feel hot. Had he been a younger or more ignorant being, he might have been inclined to blame the numerous concoctions you forced him to drink (some days with more arm-twisting than others) even this much time after his near-fatal injuries. You seemed to have magic for every aliment known, for chicken and Jotun alike. Why not a philter as well?

But he had been alive long enough—been in love often enough—to know the truth. These physical sensations had nothing to do with your talents, and everything to do with his...isolation? Rescue? Maturing?

He had never believed himself to be one of those fools capable of falling head over heels for someone for no greater reason than that they had nursed him back to health. What a pathetic way to return the kindness you had shown him—all the panaceas grudgingly swallowed; all the staggering walks contemptuously taken; all the nights you'd slept in a makeshift nest of quilts when Loki disdainfully refused to leave your bed.

The sudden lack of people in the world had not put the responsibility of his rehabilitation on your shoulders. You had taken that on willingly well before the Snap. But he did believe that, had Thanos not succeeded, you might have happily ended up without such of a chore of a lingering houseguest. Every morning he woke began anew a day you could decide Loki had overstayed his welcome. His only consolation was that, surely, these feelings would fallow once he no longer came in contact with you.

But then surely, too, his body would fall apart without your aid. So Loki kept his mouth shut. Cohabitating with you while keeping his growing romanticism a secret was difficult; he shuddered to think of the alternatives left to him in this half-empty universe.

Once again, you interrupted his thoughts, this time with a wry observation of: "You're overthinking something again."

His rough gulp hardly helped his case any more than the following, "I am not."

"You are."

I should think I know my own thoughts better than you do."

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Loki of Asgard isn't nearly as difficult to read as he thinks he is. Your mouth gets these deep wrinkles at the corners, and..." Trailing off, you frowned before you leaned forward to grasp the hand he had resting on the table. "Is that what this is about?"

You must have seen his split-second grimace when you'd referred to him in that mocking way of yours. If you'd noticed that, he had no doubt you'd spotted the way he stiffened when you touched him like that as well. Be that as it may, you kept your fingers lightly resting against his as you went on:

"We need to talk about it."

“I don't have the faintest idea what it is there is to discuss," he answered firmly.

You laughed. The sound made Loki's chest ache. "You do."

"I assure you I do not. And if you're going to insist on this level of condescension, I'd much prefer to get some work done than sit around listening to your riddles. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"Why don't you go ahead and admit that you were eavesdropping when Natasha visited last night?"

If your iron grip hadn't been enough to keep Loki rooted to his chair, your question would. He felt blood rush to his face, try as he might to fight the urge to blush. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, knowing all the while that he would not hit quite the right note to express his feigned incredulity.

You did not answer. Neither did your hand loosen. A staring contest ensued, though it did not last long. Loki knew better than to argue when he spotted the familiar gleam there. What would be the point in lying anyway, when this Borforesaken rasp had so ruined his famous silver tongue? After another moment or two of internal debate, he finally wilted.

"If you already knew I knew, why not say something sooner?" he asked.

"You'll need to learn someday that those who eavesdrop often hear things they don't like."

"And those who refuse to eavesdrop often hear nothing worth hearing at all."

"You could simply quit lurking around and speak with us face-to-face."

"And risk the conversation turning to naught but insults targeting me? You'll have to forgive me for preferring to 'lurk' for what morsels of information your friends deign to offer you in secret."

"There was no secret."

"Oh?" Trapped as he was with his hands bound to the table, Loki's only escape was to avert his eyes to the rain-streaked window near the table. "If it was common knowledge, why not bring it up yourself without having to pry it out of me?"

You let go of him and held your hands up in a galactic sign of surrender that he could only see out of the corner of his eye. "I did not wish to upset you unduly."

"Upset me? Is that what you think? You think that I'm upset that my people have established a settlement in this Realm and are attempting to move on?"

"Aren't you?"

"Obviously not!"

Once more, Loki felt instead of saw your probing look. He folded his arms across his chest and carefully avoided so much as turning his head in your direction. This seemed to succeed in getting you to drop the subject; you said nothing else. Then you pushed your chair away from the table with an almighty screech and a firm, "Let's get you packed, then."

He couldn't help rising to his feet after you in his panic. "What?"

"Let's get you packed," you repeated. "New Asgard awaits the coronation of its king."

"Let it wait! Forever, if it must!"

"Why should it? Natasha's told me all about how badly you want to rule."

"Wanted. Wanted. That was a different time. A different me!"

Loki's heart had not hammered so hard since the moment of the Snap. Distantly, he realized that the exertion did not cause him as much pain as it used to. But would it be enough?

You did appear to notice his desperation, for you paused in some gesture that seemed to have caused his toothbrush to float out of its cup. Silence fell. He realized you were waiting for him to explain himself. Of all the cruelties you had enacted upon him, this perhaps might have been the cruelest of them all.

"New Asgard—" His breath hitched. Loki licked his lips and tried again, "New Asgard little needs yet another descendant of Odin on the throne. Let Brunnhilde keep the crown. I want it not."

Though admitting as much made him in ache in a way Thanos's assault had not, Loki knew the years since that assault had changed him. Between his inglorious defeat on this very planet, the series of humiliations leading up to Ragnarök, and his near-death among the Asgardian refugees, he had learned to see himself more clearly. Leadership did not suit him as he'd once convinced himself it had. And besides, what good would it do for what remained of the spirit of his childhood home? Being among his people again would only remind him more sharply of what he'd lost—their true ruler amongst the most grievous of those losses.

"Then what do you want, Loki?" you asked softly.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Thought hard about his answer to your question.

It came without as much thought as he'd expected. So few of his responses were even possible anymore. But those that were surprised even himself. He wanted to learn the subtle ways of Midgardian magic. He wanted to memorize the patterns of the stars in this Realm. He wanted to eat vegetables and fruits and grains grown by the power of his own hands. He wanted to look after his chickens until they died at venerable ages. And to do all of that, any of that, there could be only one reply:

"I want to stay here," he whispered, so quietly he did not even know if he wanted you hear him.

But hear him you did. A dazzling smile the likes of which he'd never seen before spread across your face. Then, without giving Loki a chance to grasp the meaning of such an expression, you rushed forward and threw your arms around him in a suffocating embrace.

"Then stay," you breathed in his ear.

The surprise he felt at your sudden closeness dissipated rapidly. Soon, Loki wrapped his own arms around you in turn. He did not know how long the two of you stayed tangled up like that before you finally released him. But when you did, you looked so smug that he couldn't help but add:

"It's not as though I have any choice in the matter. I'd die in a week without your care."

"Oh, that." The smug smile transformed into a smirk. "I've been giving you placebos for months now. You're as mended as you'll ever be."

His jaw dropped nearly to the floor, causing a glorious peal of laughter to tumble from your mouth.

"You whined so much. What else could I do?" you asked by way of explanation.

"You fox!" he said, though he couldn't find it himself to be truly enraged. It was the sort of thing he'd have done to his brother, after all. Who would have thought he'd have found a kindred spirit in the middle of nowhere on Midgard of all places?

You neared again, now gazing directly into his eyes. "But you love me."

"That," Loki said as he cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb over the [color] skin there, "I believe to be unequivocally true."

******

More time passed, on the Podunk little rock Loki had once schemed to make his own just as slowly as it did in the greater, emptier galaxy. Seasons passed. The half-obliterated woods around the cabin grew thicker and greener every summer. Native creatures once sparse in the area returned in larger numbers.

There were no servants to lay out his clothes, nor banquets with food-laden tables as far as the eye could see. But there were fruits and vegetables brought forth by his own hands, homespun tunics created with care, and fresh eggs in abundance from his ever-increasing brood of chickens. There was bright sunlight by day and warm candlelight by night. But best of all, there was you.

Well, most of the time you kept close to the cabin you both called home. Nearly five years to the day since the Snap, Loki stood alone in the kitchen. He hardly ever wandered far afield those days. What reason had he to do so? Surely Ross had not been the only Midgardian eager to see Loki pay for his crimes, and Loki was hardly a welcome visitor at the Avengers headquarters on the other side of the forest—which was the second most common place to find you, and where you'd traipsed off to during the still-dark hours that morning.

Loki found himself worrying over his pot of stew more than he'd have liked to admit now that it had grown dark once again. Not about the stew, not this time; he felt he had accomplished making a perfectly edible, if not very exciting, stew with produce from the garden you and he had canned that fall. Given that he'd hardly been offered much opportunity to create purposefully edible meals as Asgardian royalty, no one could deny this to be a culinary accomplishment on his part.

You hardly ever kept him waiting this long for you to return from the large, ugly compound. He could not begrudge you going to see friends. On the other hand, he knew how the remaining Avengers still felt about him. It was the same way he felt about them. If any of them had the silver tongue he had had once...

Before he could spiral into the possessive behavior he inclined toward despite your frequent admonishments, he heard the sound of footsteps—barely. Light elves moved so lightly he would not have heard your approach had he not been listening so closely for it. The door swung open shortly after this noise, and you stepped inside the room already filled with lit candles.

"I'm home," you said cheerily, and unnecessarily.

"So I see." Loki gave the pot below him a pointed stir. "Did you enjoy your time with your...friends?"

"If you're going to be a sourpuss, I won't give you your surprise."

"I hardly want whatever gift the lovely Natasha might have sent along with you."

"It's from me. Do you want it? Yes or no?"

He knew better what you meant by the appraising look you shot him: Play along, or pay the price. "Please," he said as flatly as he could. Though you never used your considerable powers to hurt, he knew that an outright refusal on his part would probably wind up with him sprouting a pair of donkey ears for the foreseeable future, or something equally annoying and hard to explain when your neighbors inevitably came by to mock him.

You grinned despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm. One of your fingers made a series of shapes in the air. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, your familiar basket appeared next to Loki's elbow. A simple blue-and-white checked towel covered its contents.

"Open it," you said when all he did was squint at you.

It wasn't moving, so Loki took that to mean lifting the fabric would not be dangerous. Nestled underneath sat a pile of off-white mushrooms with brain-like knobs atop the stems.

"We went a little over during the meeting. I knew you'd have already started dinner. When I stumbled on these little guys on my way home, I picked them up for you as a treat."

All fear of Natasha finally convincing you to give him up died away for the moment. Loki pressed his lips together in a smile. "They're the perfect addition," he said, pulling the recently-cleaned cutting board toward him and starting to chop.

Your smile grew as you walked around him to gather bowls. "You're welcome."

"So what went on that took so long? Rewatching footage of Captain America's glory days?"

Instead of chastising him for his snide tone, you simply answered: "I thought you said you didn't want to be involved in anything we got up to."

"I don't."

"Then let's not talk about it anymore."

Loki spilled the sliced fungi into the pot with something of a startled expression. You would normally find something of note to tell him after a two-hour conversation with the Avengers, and yet you had nothing to relay after being with them all day?

"[Name], what are you hiding?"

"Is the stew ready yet?"

"You're trying to distract me."

"No," you drew the word out as you sat the last utensil on the table. He caught a flash of mischief in your [color] eyes. You bared your teeth in a wicked grin. Then you sauntered forward and looked him up and down before you slid your hands up his shoulders to interlock them behind his neck. "This is me trying to distract you."

You pressed your mouth to his without sparing him a moment to retort. Loki did not forget the thread of the conversation, per se, but kissing you back seemed of greater importance than pursuing the matter. Who cared about the inconsequential scheming of those who had already lost everything? Certainly not him, not when, egged on by his enthusiastic response, you smiled against his lips and surged forward. He had no choice but to let you push him onto the nearby counter to allow you space to work.

"Still curious about what I got up to this afternoon?" you asked during a brief pause.

"Not in the slightest," Loki said honestly. He cupped your face to pull you closer to him again.

By all rights, it ought to have turned out to be a very good day: a stew with fresh mushrooms; your eagerness to touch him, even simply as a distractoin. Loki might have been perfectly content to remain distracted had something not slammed open the door just as something besides dinner began to heat up.

You whirled to face the intrusion—but you moved no further, frozen, it appeared, by the massive shape moving through the doorway.

"Thor?" you asked.

"Thor?" Loki echoed, bewildered.

The shape crossed into what little light the multitude of lit candles allowed, and still Loki could not believe it. Whoever had burst in could not be his brother. His brother was dead, not to mention Thor would never let himself go to such a degree. This being looked thicker and flabbier than Volstagg on his worst days. They also had stringy hair and a scraggly beard that obviously had not been washed in some time.

"You followed me?" You sounded outraged, which typically spelled trouble for the offending party.

Thor—or whoever the shape was—did not spare you a glance, terrified or otherwise. Their eyes remained fixated on Loki's face, and as Loki met their gaze, he felt a spark of recognizing flare hot and painful somewhere deep inside his stomach.

"I had to see it for myself," the apparent stranger rumbled.

And that was all it took. Loki slid off the counter and stepped around you. A torrent of emotions constricted his chest. The room around him spun. After a minute or so of thick swallowing and struggled, he managed to open wide his arms and step in Thor's direction.

"Brother, you're alive!"

Thor did not meet Loki's cheer with any of his own. "So this is where you ran off to hide."

Loki felt his smile slide off his face. "Pardon me?"

"I thought you were dead. I mourned you."

"As I did for you. I thought surely Thanos—"

"I should have known your vanishing was nothing more than yet another trick!"

"Well, I confess to using a smidgen of magic to get me here, but—"

"We needed you. The galaxy needed you. I needed you!"

With every statement, Thor's voice grew louder and louder. Rarely since his brother's exile had Loki seen him so enraged. He stared as the noise washed over him, and allowed his arms to drop to his sides. These stayed there when Thor took another step in Loki's direction.

"Perhaps it was a lie. Perhaps you always intended to aid Thanos in achieving his wicked goal."

You stepped forward to put yourself between the two men. "Hey. He was in no condition to fight. If he'd gone to Wakanda, he would have died for sure."

"As he had me believe he already had for five years. My brother chose his own life over half the galaxy." Thor's eyes flicked disdainfully between you and Loki, a gesture at odds with the bright red of his face. "But I should not be so surprised. Loki has always been a coward."

"Don't you—"

"[Name]."

Loki spoke the word softly, but his tone must have gotten through to you. Now you spun to gape at him. He merely held his hand out in a quelling gesture and told Thor:

"You're right."

It had taken a long time—eons, really—for Loki to accept the truth about himself—a long time and nearly dying more than once. If he could go back and change things, he would. How different would things be for everyone if Loki had never spent that time being coddled by the Grand Master, or masqueraded as Odin for so long, or agreed to invade Asgard, or even led Laufey through the secret passages to the palace? Always he had served himself. What argument had he that a different choice would not have saved untold lives just as Thor claimed?

But as things stood, Loki could not even change Thor's thunderous expression with his admission.

"You have changed, Brother, and not for the better."

"Perhaps I have changed," Loki conceded. "But is this not what you have always wanted for me? Living quietly, not causing trouble? Happy?"

"Happy at what expense, Loki? At least I am still trying. I am still fighting!"

"Are you? Judging by the state of your facial hair, I'd hazard a guess that's a more recent development."

"Loki," Thor growled through clenched teeth.

"You say I've changed for the worst? Fine. No one is inviting you stay for dinner and to get to know the new me or the person I've chosen to stay with."

Silence rang audibly through the dark cabin, punctuated only by the bubbling stew. Thor inhaled slowly. His shoulders migrated to up around his ears. Loki braced himself for a tirade that would have made their father proud. Instead, Thor's voice was flat and emotionless as he said:

"As usual, I will clean up your mess, Brother. And if in doing so, you are the one lost, perhaps this time I will not feel the grief of it."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than did Thor leave. He slammed the door behind him with such might that the whole cabin shook and several candles blew out. The sound of Thor's heavy footsteps faded quickly into the dark woods beyond.

"Loki?"

He had not realized he'd been staring at the place Thor had stood until you spoke his name. All he did in response was blink. Your warm hand enveloped his own, though this did nothing to quell his sudden tremors.

"Loki."

Words failed him. For the first time in his memory, Loki could think of nothing appropriate to say. Pain did not hold his tongue, nor injury, simply the fact that nothing would come to mind; nothing seemed to matter. But speak he must, or he risked standing there in the dark forever.

"How long?" he asked.

"What?"

"How long, [Name]?"

The fingers around his tightened.

"How long have you known my brother was alive?"

At last, he wrenched his hand free and turned to look at you. Tears sparkled in those eyes that had only a little while ago been gleaming with affection. That told Loki enough. He no longer needed you to answer.

"All this time," his mouth felt thick and clumsy, so he tried again with little improvement: "All this time, you knew. You knew Thor lived, and yet you allowed me to go on assuming otherwise!"

"If you'd just let me explain—"

"What is there to explain? I've spoken to you of the guilt I've felt over his death. You, of all people, knew what he meant to me. You could have freed me from all of that, yet you did not! What, did you believe I'd choose him over you? That I would flee to New Asgard the moment I realized my last remaining family member lived?"

The words were not as sharp as they once could have been. The tone itself was no longer smooth as velvet. They rose and fell like an overused axe. But the blow landed. You flinched.

Loki found he did not much care whether you did so because his words were true or his hysteria had been laid plain his voice. His throat throbbed where Thanos's fingers had once crushed it. Perhaps Loki should have let him. Dying that way would have hurt less than now, here, by the phantoms of everyone he had ever hurt.

You said his name again. He shook his head. Almost blindly, he stumbled through the shadows to the door, yanked it open, and stepped outside. Loki stood there on the step for a moment or two, breathing in the acrid smell of burning stew behind him before he pulled the door shut. Then he staggered off toward the quiet trees with little idea of where he was actually going.

The cold quickly leached beneath his tunic, but that he could handle. What he was not so sure of was his ability to handle any more heartbreak that night or, indeed, for the rest of his life.

******

Loki returned, for where else had he to go? The idea of turning to the Avengers for shelter he found laughable, and surely Thor wouldn't want him anywhere near New Asgard. Besides, Loki would miss his chickens—and he'd been in enough relationships during his life to know that an occasional nighttime walk did wonders to cool his head.

Wonders, yes; miracles, no. Although each sunrise since the Snap had felt like a miracle to him, the days following Thor's sudden reappearance twisted into a discomfiting slog. Each day followed the same routine: Loki would wake in an empty cabin with a neatly folded pile of quilts on the floor near the bed; he would eat the single roll on the counter; and he would gather his things and move mechanically through the chores that needed done even when he felt as though he were limping through a void. These would fill his time until he returned to the vacant bed to start again.

Two days he followed this routine before it grew too tiresome to ponder continuing for the rest of his life. What if his path led nowhere but to day after day after Borforsaken day of banal work and loneliness? Loki might have been prepared to accede to Thor's claims of his cravenness; he had not been so prepared to consider death at Thanos's hands may have been the better option for him.

And so he turned to the one activity that could stop him from thinking about the end of life: The beginning of it.

The cool spring midmorning appeared perfect for transplanting the pea seedlings he had picked up from their growing space on a windowsill back in the cottage. He knelt on a flat cushion of sorts in the midst of the mostly-bare garden to get to work. All he could hear was the chilly breeze blowing through the surrounding trees, their new leaves still too young to provide any noise of their own. His pale fingers worked the freshly-tilled dirt as he mentally measured the distance between plants.

Perhaps if Thor had had occasion to see Loki like this, elbow-deep in homemade chicken compost, he might have understood things a little better.

"Loki."

He did not turn away from his work at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" he asked evenly.

This was the first time you'd approached him since the argument. Obviously, you'd returned home a number of times, but only after he'd fallen asleep, and only to disappear again before he awoke. Loki half-expected you to leave again. A long pause followed his question before you surprised him by asking:

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

"I think that's the best way to open up negotiations, yes."

"Negotiations?"

Loki carefully piled a small mound of dirt around a recently-planted sprout. It waved back and forth as if to say thank you.

"I'm sorry," you said.

He adjusted the bamboo trellis embedded in the dirt behind his peas.

"I should have told you as soon as I found out about Thor. I didn't know for long. Natasha only told me when she knew he'd be coming to help them out, but it wasn't fair to you to keep it a secret."

Slowly, without moving his head at all, Loki sat up. His filthy fingers curled around his knees.

"I didn't want you to leave. I knew how much Thor meant to you, and I knew you'd go to New Asgard to see him. And what then? Would you ever come back?"

"That's hard to say when I was never given a choice in the matter."

Another length bout of silence. This time, however, Loki could hear something else over the wind: A soft sniffling that nearly had him moving to comfort you—nearly.

"You were right, Loki. I was scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked.

How could you be scared of anything? He himself had witnessed the power at your fingertips more than once, and Steve and Natasha certainly had tales to tell of your prowess. Surely nothing on Midgard existed to threaten the likes of you after all this time.

Now he risked a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. Never before had he seen you distraught. Flustered, yes. Angry, absolutely. Undone, perhaps fewer times than he'd have liked. But he could tell even from a distance that you hadn't slept since your fight a few days ago. Pronounced bags clung the bottoms of your eyelids, and you rubbed your hands together in obvious agitation. The urge to go to you grew stronger still.

"I've never belonged anywhere before you came along," you said in a rough whisper.

All his willpower shattered at the moment your voice broke. He half-rose, twisting toward you, unable to feign absolute disinterest any longer. Perhaps he might have drawn closer to you, had you allowed him. But you held out your hands with the fingers wide to indicate you needed him to keep his distance. Loki did, although he said softly:

"[Name], that's not true."

"I kept trying to find a place, but no one wanted me."

"You have the Avengers."

"They aren't—" You gripped your elbow tightly in the opposite hand as you turned your face away. "They aren't home."

Before he could speak—whether to dissuade you, or ask for more details, or even to put an abrupt end to this tête-à-tête, he had no idea himself—you barreled onward, apparently under the impression that if he did not let you say all this now, Loki never would.

"I've been here for a long time, a very long time. People move into that building. People move out. Sometimes they bother to get to know me. Most of the time they don't. It doesn't matter either way, because they all leave in the end. Steve, Natasha, Rhodey...they'll all leave permanently someday, too."

So intent on listening had he been that he flinched when you looked directly into his eyes.

"You're the only one who's ever stayed.

He could think of nothing more to say than, weakly, "If you're so desperate for company that someone too injured and cowardly to leave is appealing—"

"You are not a coward, Loki."

"This is not about me," he said, then added, "unusual though that may be. For now, we are talking about you."

"I don't know what else it is you need me to say."

Truthfully, he needed nothing. An apology had been all he desired, and you'd returned with that and an admission that he'd been in the right. So slowly, as though he were trying to sneak up on a snoozing Thane Regin with a pair of shears, he stepped in your direction.

"Pretending for one moment that your attachment to me is anything other than imprinting on an admittedly very charismatic invalid—"

You snorted.

"—why not tell me? Why not come to New Asgard with me?"

The hand on your elbow went pale with the force of your grasp. "I am not as Asgardian."

"Neither am I, as you well know."

"I am tired of trying to figure out where I belong. I tried just about everywhere. I will not be cast out again." You blinked at him fiercely. "If you want to go, you should go. Be with your people. Reconcile with your brother. I only wanted to let you know that you are precious to me, even if I acted poorly because of that."

The spell your gaze cast on him snapped. You both averted your eyes. It did not take Loki so long to recover. He found himself drawing in a deep breath of remarkably fresh air before closing the remaining gap between you. When he took the hand dangling your side, you inhaled sharply as you looked up at him. Encouraged, he squeezed your fingers.

"I will reconcile with my brother, when he is ready. But you're my people, [Name]. You ought to know that by now. Maybe I will desire to visit New Asgard someday. Know this, however: As long as you want me, I shall always return to you."

After another pause, you returned the squeeze. "I think it's safe to say I'll always want you. But I might be glad for an occasional break, now I think of it. It would be nice having my bed to myself from time to time."

"Without me to warm it, you won't sleep a wink."

Rather than reply, you broke into a smile as dazzling as the sun hanging over the forest. He felt the familiar warm hook of your palm at the back of his neck, then you pulled his lips down to yours for a long, lingering kiss.

"I love you, you realize," he murmured once you parted.

"Oh, my gods," you said breathlessly through a half-open mouth.

"Yes, I am rather impressive. It comes from centuries of practice. Why, my last partner—"

You cuffed him lightly on the back of his head. "No, Loki. Look!"

So he pulled away and did as you instructed—and what he saw took his breath away as well.

Where his sparse rows of tender pea shoots had been only minutes ago, now a multitude of plants threatened to crowd one another out. Extra trees and their roots intruded on the edges of the garden. Bees, butterflies, and birdsong filled the clearing in which you and Loki stood.

He felt his throat contract, but no words left his mouth.

You, meanwhile, lifted shaking hands to your mouth. "They did it."

"Who?"

"The Avengers."

"Did what?"

"They did it!" Now you shrieked, practically dancing in place. "They figured it out! They got the Infinity Stones! It worked!"

"The Infinity—is that what you were all doing that day?"

"Tony and Bruce made a time machine. We weren't sure that it would work, but..."

"It did," Loki finished for you, somewhat dazed himself.

It was back. It was all back. He did not have to leave this place to know that not only had Thor and his friends done the impossible to bring plant life back to this planet, but that beings of all natures would be returning across the entire universe.

But, of course, the galaxy never had been willing to give Loki Odinson a lingering period of peace and happiness. Every time he felt he stood once more on solid ground, the realms tilted on their axes. This occasion would be no different. No sooner had he realized the sparkling tears of joy in your eyes were reflected in his own than did a shadow fall—literally—across the entire woods.

Above, soaring through the once-radiant blue sky, winged a great, dark ship.

Thanos had returned.

In the span of a breath, you bounded in the direction of the Avengers' home. Loki felt all the blood rush from his face. That he remained standing was itself a miracle. He felt suddenly dizzy. His heart rushed. Black crept into the edges of his vision.

Just before you disappeared into the newly-thickened forest, he managed to croak, "Where are you going?"

You stopped to look over your shoulder at him. "You don't need me this time around. I'm going to go help them fight."

Loki pressed his shaking lips together. He could stay. He could stay, and be as safe as anyone could be when Thanos and his children arrived. With a shake of his head, he crossed to you.

"I'll always need you. We'll go together."

You smiled again. Then you both ran, hand in hand, towards the clangor of battle erupting from not too far away. What would come of this whole affair, Loki did not know. What he did know was that if this was dying, death was not so nearly as horrible as he'd feared.