#sylvie wallpapers
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jiyascepter · 1 year ago
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LOKI | S2E4 'Heart of the TVA'
Lockscreens
Reblog if you save | do not repost
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peachy-ash · 6 months ago
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𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐤𝐢
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seven7arts · 1 year ago
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Loki Season 2 // Disney+
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just-b-wilde · 6 months ago
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gods-of-mischief · 11 months ago
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Wallpaper • Sophia Di Martino
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+ Twitter banner 🌸
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folkszy · 2 years ago
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✧ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐤𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬
• like or reblog if you save
• do not repost
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isharaneith · 2 years ago
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May 2023
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Like, reblog or comment if you save, please
No calendar versions under the cut
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numberonepartyboy · 5 months ago
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OMGGGGGBSANSNAN MY KIDSSSSSSS THANK YOU SMMM 🥺🥺🥺🥺 THEY LOOK BEATIFUL!!!!!
Gooood timezone! My recipient for Ninjago OC Secret Summer is @numberonepartyboy ! Here are his lovely OCs Azora and Sylvie!
Their designs are super cool and I immediately loved their vibes. I immediately wanted to draw Sylvie with their wings. Gotta love me some DR ocs, fankids and kickass found siblings! They seriously look so cool!
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I went through a couple ideas but eventually I settled to have them just sitting together. So Sylvie's got her wings out. I imagine if they're chatting about an upgrade to them. Maybe they're about to make a test. And of course, big bro Azora's supervising.
I struggled a bit with the lighting (as I tend to) but I'm honestly kinda happy with how this turned out in the end and drawing them was pretty fun. I hope you like it, Yun, thank you very much for the opportunity!
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minkdelovely · 8 months ago
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love and power
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chapter three “is this the life that lies ahead now?”
Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie
tags/warnings: drinking on an empty stomach (do not attempt in real life, but this is hell baby), allusions to poisoning, reader is hungover and has a poor appetite, uh oh art thou pining?, slow burn eventual: smut
word count: 2.8k
prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two
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After getting some water you tried falling back asleep to no avail, tossing and turning for at least an hour before deciding to call it quits.
Leaving the hotel in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea, but you felt like you’d start tearing at the wallpaper if you stayed in your room. Cliche as it was, fresh air had always helped you relax while you were living. You thought back to the family garden and sighed. You’d give anything to be able to sit there now.
Your thoughts drifted to your father as you changed out of your pajamas. Things had changed so much in your day-to-day after coming to the hotel that you realized you couldn’t remember the last time he had crossed your mind. You felt a tightness in your throat when you tried to remember what he looked like. It was hazy, but he was mostly there; strong with a brilliant smile. How long would it be before you couldn’t remember him at all? Even the way you heard his voice in your mind didn’t seem completely right, an imitation of a memory.
Was he doing okay? Was he still mourning you? Or did he think you were just missing? Did the money go through? Did he know what you did for him to get it? There was no way to know.
“Can’t sleep?” 
You jumped at the sound of Husker’s voice, so lost in thought and determined to get out of there that you hadn’t noticed him at the bar. It wasn’t surprising that he was still down here, though, being just before midnight. In fact, the real surprise was that he was here by himself. You decided to put leaving on pause and made your way over to him, taking advantage of the rare moment of privacy. Besides, what good would it do to dismiss Husker when he had been so discreet about this morning?
“More like slept too much,” you said, sighing as you took a seat across from him. 
“Could’ve fooled me,” Husk jabbed amiably, turning to grab an empty glass. 
You groaned. “Well there goes my hope of looking better than I feel. I was thinking maybe a walk would help, but—” Husk gave you a look, rightly making you feel sheepish. 
“Didn’t go so hot this morning, huh? Thought you’d have better luck at night?” he said, half-joking, and passed you an amber-colored drink. The worry must’ve been showing on your face, as he cooly added, “Don’t worry, it’s been a ghost town in here for over an hour. It’s still only me and Angel who know about what happened.”
“Is he at work right now?” you asked, relaxing a little and took a casual look around. “I really don’t know how I can make it up to you both. This morning I…,” you sighed again and ran a hand through your hair, feeling the exhaustion seep back in. “I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll just forget about it, or convince myself it was a nightmare or something. But I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”
You recalled your reflection in the mirror before you showered, unrecognizable to yourself under the layer of gore caked to your skin. 
Husk waved his hand, but the softness in his eyes felt like a rock in your stomach. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve both seen crazier shit in our time. But yeah, he’s been gone for most of the day. Said Valentino was having an ‘emergency’ but I have my doubts. He’s always pulling Angel in for dumb shit.”
You nodded and finally took a sip of your drink, shocked by how much you enjoyed it. A pleasant bitter taste lingered in your mouth, and you had to actively fight the urge to chug down the rest of it.
“Valentino’s his boss, right? Alastor’s done a pretty good job of keeping me preoccupied, but I think I’ve heard you guys talking about him before.”
“That’s the simplest thing to call him, I guess, though I prefer to call him an asshole,” Husk grumbled and you both shared a small laugh, the alcohol already making you feel lighter. 
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, Husk refilling your glass as you rested your head in your hand, gazing through the windows to the city below. Would you be able to pinpoint the alley if you concentrated hard enough? Someone had to have stumbled on him by now, right? Like his little sidekick… Did he ever go back for Donny? Something else clicked into place as you thought of him and the events of the morning: unless someone came after you for retribution, you would get away with it. That’s just how life is here.
No missing person report, no investigation, no forensics, no trial, no jail sentence. Weren’t you already “doing time” by being here? It’s not like you could add on to it. Not that you intended to do it again, but it was a step in the right direction of making peace with yourself. Maybe you really would forget about it someday, maybe not. There were some things that stuck with you forever.
The image of your grandmother came to you then, the last time you had spoken with her. She was sitting in her favorite chair near the fireplace in the library, her face set in the ever-present scowl you resented so much. She really was such a miserable creature. You saw yourself place the tray of tea and almond shortbread cookies down on the dark-lacquered, antique coffee table between you, knowing it would the last thing she ever ate. And tried to fight the smile pulling at your lips.
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“It occurred to me in the night that you still owe me something from the butcher,” Alastor said casually, his face buried in the newspaper. Irritation shot through you quick as lightning, but you prevailed against the urge to dump the coffee you were bringing him all over his lap. 
As the grandfather clock in Alastor’s room chimed the hour, the pulse in your head threatened to kill. Apparently hangovers were very real in Hell (because of course they were), and this one was a doozy. Husk had only given you three drinks, but since you had wrung yourself so dry it was  enough to leave you feeling like absolute shit. Beyond some water, the only thing you managed to ingest so far this morning was a piece of plain, burnt toast to try and soothe your aching stomach. It had taken all you had to keep it down. Needless to say, you weren’t starting the day in the best of moods.
Not that you ever thought Alastor would take it easy on you anyway. The look he gave you when you showed up in your new dress was so self-satisfied that it made you want to crawl under a rock. And when he said that you looked like death warmed over, you wanted to use said rock to knock his teeth in. It was the first you had seen of him since the incident in your room yesterday, though you tried not to dwell on the fact that he had returned at some point while you were asleep. In the grand scheme of his behavior you’ve been exposed to, that was really the least of your worries. 
Through the veil of annoyance you found yourself looking at the mug in his grasp, remembering the strength of his hand holding your chin. Your breath shallowed as he brought the rim up to his lips. Fuck. Tearing your eyes away, you did your best to swallow the lump in your throat. This couldn’t be happening.
He was just toying with you yesterday. Nothing new, you told yourself. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes how much he enjoys feeling superior. Not that you had ever seen him pull a stunt like that on anyone else, but who knows? It’s not like you were with him every second of the day. Even in this very moment, he was messing with you. 
Was it your fault that he had only grabbed his clothes off the filthy floor of that alley and left the other bag to rot? Of course he’d see it that way, and if your headache wasn’t as terrible as it was, you might have told him exactly that. Especially considering that you were already out money for the liver, and he was more than likely expecting you to pay again.
“I’ll head out after I’ve finished with your room, unless you’d prefer I go now and clean when I get back,” you answered smoothly, hoping he’d give you permission for the latter. How he had even managed to track in the dirt you saw on the area rug was a mystery. You just knew that it would keep you busy for a decent amount of time and you weren’t looking forward to more scrubbing on your hands and knees. “And if the clothes are ready to be picked up again, I can get those, too.”
Alastor peered over the newspaper, eyebrow raised, his eyes and smile alight with mischief. “My, someone’s eager to be in my good graces today! No need to bother with the laundry, but I hope you won’t mind if I join you going into town. I don’t feel like staying cooped up in the hotel. Go ahead and clean now, I’d hate for those stains on the rug to set. Besides, you know how I despise coming home to a mess.”
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While he waited for you to return after freshening up, Alastor took a look around his room, admiring the results of your hard work. You were turning out to be much more resilient than he had anticipated. Though your expression was hardly ever enthusiastic, you’d never be able to tell by the way you cleaned. Someone taught you well, he thought to himself, breathing in the scent of cleaning products that nearly overpowered the floral almond you always left behind. So pleasant.
Though if he was being honest, he was starting to run out of ideas on how to keep you busy. He would mess up the bed, despite rarely sleeping in it, and leave his housecoat, shirts, and bowties draped over various pieces of furniture for you to pick up and put in their proper place. The mud and dirt on the rug had been a last-minute stroke of genius, but it wasn’t something he cared to repeat too often. God forbid he became predictable. 
There was part of his room you didn’t have access to, and Alastor doubted that he’d ever let you see it — nor anyone else, for that matter. It’s not like it was a space you’d be able to clean in a traditional sense, anyway. After the hotel was rebuilt he thought it would be a nice idea to separate his serene bayou from the rest of the living quarters. Remembering how Vaggie had so rudely barged in on him in the past, it wasn’t something he was keen on happening again. And it was comical to watch you glancing at the locked door, pondering what could be behind it. 
He knew he couldn’t keep you cooped up as his personal chambermaid forever though, unless he wanted to be hounded by Charlie and Vaggie about it. Which he decidedly did not want. And he could admit that this cleaning game was getting stale… How could he switch things up before he tired of you completely? How could he get you to show him another spectacle like yesterday?
A knock at the door snapped The Radio Demon out of his thoughts.
“Alastor? Can I come in?” Charlie said from the other side of the door. By the tone in her voice, he could tell she was here to discuss business. He sighed quietly to himself and went to the door, swinging it open with a charming smile. 
“Why of course, my dear! How may I be of service?” Alastor closed the door behind them and led her to one of the chairs by the fireplace, taking the one opposite her and crossed his legs, neatly folding his hands over one knee. “It’s just the two of us. Sylvie left to go spruce up before we head into town,” he said, noting how Charlie was glancing around the room.
“Oh, good!” she sighed, putting her hand over her chest in relief. “That’s, um, kind of what I came here to talk to you about. I know you’ve been…,” she paused, hands dancing as she searched for the right word, “…acclimating her to working here — and I don’t want to step on your toes — but I think it would be really nice if she could join in on daily activities. No one has really gotten a chance to get to know her yet, and I’d hate for her to keep missing out on opportunities to bond with everyone.”
He had jinxed himself, but at least it was only the princess he had to deal with.
What to do? It’s not like he could say that your cleaning skills needed improvement when evidence to the contrary surrounded them; the room was pristine. He could argue that it would be prudent to keep some level of permanent staff unless they wanted to be in a never-ending state of training new hires, but something told him that wouldn’t be the best approach. At least not for now. Alastor had no intention of letting any souls under his contract be taken from him, for redemption or otherwise. Still, seeing the others develop their relationships with each other had been fun to observe. How would little Sylvie fit into the dynamic?
“I suppose I’ve been a bit selfish with her, haven’t I? I’ll be sure to leave room in her schedule starting tomorrow, but I hope you’ll understand that mornings are sacrosanct,” Alastor said agreeably, straightening his coat as he stood up from the chair. “Unless there was anything else, I’ll go and tell her the good news.”
Charlie followed suit, grin wide and eyes sparkling as they made their way back to the door. “Of course! Oh, thank you Alastor, you have no idea how excited I am!” It was impossible not to. Her enthusiasm was nearly contagious. “Vaggie and I are thinking something up right now as a surprise for everyone, but the details haven’t been totally worked out yet. I’ll let you know as soon as possible though — gah! I can’t wait for tomorrow!”
Alastor merely smiled in response and they parted ways in the hall. He wasn’t thrilled to be losing his monopoly on you so soon, but knowing that he now had to be more intentional with his time was invigorating. Curious to see how you’ll react to being invited to group activities, he made his way to your room, already hard at work thinking of new ways to push your buttons.
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You were surprised to see Alastor in the hall when you opened your door, since you had been instructed to return to his room when you were finished touching up. The quick jump-scare he caused sent a fresh wave of throbbing to your head and you hissed under your breath, unable to stop yourself from massaging your temple.
“You’re up to something,” you grumbled, walking past him to make your way to the elevators. 
He feigned offense, easily stepping into stride with you down the hall. “Chivalry is lost on you twenty-first-century souls! I don’t know why I bother.”
You glared at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the sardonic look on his face as you stepped into the elevator. It was best not to push your luck with him, considering you still had an entire outing in Cannibal Town to get through. You were about to say something when the elevator stopped after going down a couple floors, the doors opening to Angel Dust. He looked exhausted. 
When the two of you made eye contact, he glanced away, the air in the elevator quickly turning nervous as he walked in. Was it because of yesterday? Maybe Angel hadn’t been as comfortable with it as Husk made it seem… Suddenly he hit a button, stopping the elevator in its tracks. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, steeling himself. 
“Hey, so… you know how you came home lookin’ like fuckin’ Carrie yesterday?”
You felt Alastor’s static humming in the space between you; the first reaction he’s had since Angel came into the elevator. 
“I wanted to apologize sooner but—”
Angel waved his hands, cutting you off. “No, no, please, you don’t have to,” he said, a small laugh escaping him. “Look, uh… I’m only bringin’ it up cuz I just gotta know.” He was actively fighting a smile as he continued, “The trouble you ran into? His name wasn’t Donny, was it?”
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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r
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lucianalight · 1 year ago
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A Glorious Culmination
Let's talk about that perfect ending with its beautiful scenes and epic soundtrack, shall we? Here's all the reasons why I loved it:
The ending answered the question "what makes a Loki, Loki?"
"Authority, independence, style". Sure, but that's not all of it. And it's not the real answer.
So who is Loki? A villain? A loser? What defines Loki?
There are many characteristics that define Loki but one of the main ones that truly sets him apart imo is that he is a catalyst for change. Loki when faced with options he doesn't like, or a problem that looks like doesn't have a solution, makes a new way, creates a new solution, chooses an option that didn't exist before.
He has the power to destroy, like the mythological tale of Ragnarok.
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And to give life. Like how the Ragnarok he brings, means the beginning of a new cycle in Norse mythology.
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-"Yeah it was the best character development. Loki went from wanting a throne to..."
Let me stop you there.
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Loki went from not wanting a throne but thinking he must have it to be considered worthy and an equal to Thor, to taking a throne despite not wanting it, because it was the right thing to do.
The fact that Loki sacrificed himself once again for the people he loved and cared about, wasn't a new character development. In the movies Loki risks and sacrifices himself every time when it matters. For Thor, for Asgard, for the world. The only development here was that this time he sacrificed himself for every universe there is.
And his sacrifice wasn't treated as sth he deserved by the narrative because of every terrible things he'd done. On the contrary the narrative acknowledges that this is the last thing Loki deserves. That he is paying for others' mistakes and wrongs. He spends centuries to save the timelines. He spends a long time trying to stop Sylvie without harming her. And when everything seems lost, he makes a decision to save everyone but himself, he creates a different path. He faces his deepest fear, to not hurt the people he loves.
If there is any character development, it's for the narrative and the audience that finally recognized who Loki actually is.
The Symbolism
I have to say my first reaction to the new Loki costume was:" This is the worst Loki costume ever :))))" also me two days later: "I'm gonna set it as my wallpaper." But I loved the symbolism. The biggest horns Loki's ever worn to show the weight of the crown. His cape that was connected to timelines, to show the burden of a throne. The simplicity in his clothes in contrast with his other outfits. Because this wasn't about the recognition Loki always wanted and deserved. This was about the responsibility Loki decided to literally put on his shoulders and feeling the gravity of it.
His shoes though :)))) I mean
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Either let him be bare footed or give him boots you cowards :D
The Parallels
The fact that how the ending parallels the first Thor movie and everything came back full circle.
How Thor and Loki destroyed sth at the cost of themselves losing the people they cared about.
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Loki doing sth not because of a desperation for acceptance, not because he thought it was sth someone else wanted.
Knowing if he chose the easier way, no one could have fault him for it because it seemed there was no other way.
He did it because he knew it was the right thing to do, because he knew who he wanted to be.
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Loki not giving up, not letting go, not falling down from a broken bridge, but ascending, holding on as he fixes what's broken.
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He holds and carries the whole universe on his back. It's not only a beautiful Atlassian tragedy, but also parallels Norse mythology in more than one way. Yggdrasil, the tree of life in Norse mythology, the one that Loki holds in his hands in the finale, wasn't the only parallel in the ending.
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There's a subtle and beautiful nod to Norse mythology. The tale of Loki being bound till Ragnarok. The myth that says when Loki gets freed, the end of the world begins.
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What a marvelous tragedy. And what a glorious culmination.
It's not all tragic though
Loki now is literally the most powerful and heroic character in MCU. He's holding the universe in his hands and keeping it alive. You can't top that.
And it makes his portrayal in the recent movies in which he was unfairly underpowered, even more ridiculous than before and that makes me happy :D
There is also a possibility to see Loki again and I'm not talking about the other variants. Marvel now has the best dues ex machina through Loki. He might be able to appear in any universe as an illusion to warn about dangers or help the characters. He might figure out a way to keep the tree alive without being there himself. That way he can find Thor in the sacred timeline. Or maybe the Loki who survived Thanos and is still in the sacred timeline finds Thor. Maybe there's still hope for a good reconciliation and a good story for Asgardian siblings.
So to sump up this was an epic, symbolic, beautiful and tragic ending. And yet hopeful. I loved it💚
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jiyascepter · 1 year ago
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LOKI | S2E1 'Ouroboros'
Lockscreen
Reblog if you save | do not repost
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peachy-ash · 2 months ago
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lockscreens
loki
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miss--soapy · 1 year ago
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Hi, my name is Sophia! I take HL photos & make small mods!
[Link Tree] - TikTok, Ko-fi, Twitch, Ashton SP & Discord (SFW, HL themed, but open to all games!)
A little quick info:
I do SFW content only.
None of my photos are edited, masked or AI generated. They are all taken in game with in-game reshade.
I'm mainly on TikTok @ miss__soapy
Yes you may use my non-commissioned photos as pfp/wallpapers. If you use them in your content, please credit me. But please do not use any of my commissioned photos for content! That belongs to the client!
[COMMISSION STATUS: OPEN]
Links:
[📸 Photo Commission Info]
❓"What camera mod am I using?"
❓"What is Ashton's mbti?
❓"How to add facial expressions to poses in the new Otis update?"
Nexus mods:
Other NPCs In Portraits 🖼️
Dog Ears Mods 🐶
Loki & Sylvie Horns
Boba Fett & Mandalorian Helmets
Mirror of Erised - ROR Object Replacer
Artist Set - Quill, paint brush, Easel
King Viserys' Crown
The Toadstool Hat
Odd Sebastian Sallow Replacers
Masterlists:
[Photo Dump Masterlist] - Non commissioned photos. Stuff I would take on my off time.
[Mod Photo Dump Masterlist] - Non commissioned photos of the random mods I've made!
[Photo Commission Masterlist Pt.1 & Pt.2] - Commissioned photos 💚
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harrowitzer · 10 months ago
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Mobius looks away from the report on his screen, up to the clock on the wall by the emergency exit. It takes a moment before the hands swim into focus. Four fifteen. The long, dark tea-time of the soul. Too early to slip out unnoticed, too late to start anything new. He rubs his eyes, which burn from the light of the screen and the flickering fluorescent overhead. He takes a deep breath and puffs out his cheeks as he blows it out, pursing his lips to make a sound like a miniature whoopie cushion.
"Who let the baby elephant in?"
His head snaps toward the owner of the voice. It's Ravonna, standing on the navy-grey speckled carpet outside his cubicle in her stockinged feet, one hand in her cardigan pocket and one holding a steaming mug of tea
Mobius turns back to his desk and collapses his chin into his palm. "Just trying to get these reports done. Seems like I'm behind a desk more often than not recently."
"That's what it's like at the top, Mobius. If you really want that promotion to Research, you gotta put in the paperwork time, just like the rest of us."
"The ole' ladder of success is greased by bureaucratic ink, huh?"
"Sure is. Keep it up, day's almost done." She raises her mug to toast him, then wanders off.
He calls after her, "You know, when I signed up for this, I didn't think the most dangerous part of the job was getting papercuts!"
She gives a laugh from several cubicles away but doesn't turn back.
Mobius picks up a kush ball off a stack of books and yo-yos it absentmindedly by one elastic cord. He glances around his cluttered desk at an array of more fidget toys, pens and paperclips, office supplies and folders and binders. His kids, holding a soccer ball and a trumpet respectively, peer out with fake smiles from a "World's Okayest Dad" frame. He smiles. It was a father's day gift, his ex probably bought it out of spite. He doesn't begrudge her, though. He loves it. He glances at the clock again. Four seventeen.
It's not like going home early would be any better than being here. It's not his night with the kids. He'll just heat up a lonesome microwave dinner and watch something mind-rotting. Maybe catch up on his reading.
He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck, then straightens himself at the keyboard. Might as well finish the report. Maybe knock off another after this one, too. Burn some midnight oil. It'll look good if he's still at his desk when Ravonna leaves, anyway.
. . .
Mobius opens another set of double doors and enters the space. It's another large empty room, hastily abandoned or never occupied. Lights half off, and a glowing exit sign paints the far corner green.
He hurriedly sets out across the room, but stops suddenly in the middle.
The carpet is a navy blue-and-grey static pattern that looks strangely familiar. He looks up. The walls are a tone of warm gray he knows well. Mobis takes a step forward. Then another. In a few more steps, he's standing under a flickering fluorescent light. He stops and turns.
There are the indentations on the carpet where the walls of the cubicle should be. There are the five points of the wheels of his chair. He looks toward the exit sign. There, on the wall, is a circle of brighter white - as if something was hanging there, blocking the light that yellowed the wallpaper around it. A clock.
This is the the SCP office where Mobius works.
Only that's impossible. It couldn't be this cleared out. He was just here earlier this afternoon. Wasn't he?
What day is it?
How long have they been in this place?
. . .
Or: AU in which Mobius is an SCP containment officer, Loki is an SCP, and they get lost in the backrooms of the SCP building (it's bigger on the inside). The Polybius game, Sylvie and Hunter B-15 are intragal to the plot.
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burnthatbridge · 1 year ago
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time will pass, darling (but my feelings, they won't)
lokius | M | 15k | angst, domestic, getting together Loki visits Mobius on the timeline, but he can never stay.
A year’s worth of time passes before Mobius sees Loki again.
Maybe exactly a year, maybe not. Mobius couldn’t say. The immediate days after Loki made his sacrifice, saved the TVA, saved them all, had passed in a blur. Mobius at the TVA, still, but not present there, not really, caught in that last moment before Loki vanished through the rift and haunted by the prospect of what to do next. If you never look, you’ll never know.
After he leaves and returns to the timeline, his timeline, it’s not particularly any less of a blur. He looks. He knows. Knows what he was taken from, knows what was stolen from him. A family, a home.
It hurts more and less than it should.
He tells Sylvie he’s going to wait there for a little bit. And he does. He waits, and he doesn’t admit to himself what he’s waiting for. He knows this too, but he won’t permit himself to think it. Futile, foolish hope: it would cut him worse than any blade he has faced.
He waits, though not exactly in the spot Sylvie leaves him. It turns out, when Don heads inside, and the sun sets, and his sons are tucked into bed, that it gets chilly out on the dark street. That, and several dog walkers have looked askance at him, standing there, hands on his hips, staring at the house across the street, his house, and seeing something else.
He gets a motel that first night, the next few. Sleeps fitfully, grateful to, lest he dream of all he has gained and what he’s going to do about it. Lest he dream of all he has lost and how he’s going to live without it.
The TVA — Casey specifically — had appropriated some funds for Mobius, to get him on his feet. That, and paperwork that gives him the alias Matthew M Mobius (and the M doesn’t stand for Mobius anymore, so he’s down two out of three). He can’t be another Don; it’s odd enough that his doppelgänger moves in on the same block without their names being identical too.
Because that’s what he does. It’s not perhaps the best of ideas, but he doesn’t know what else to do. The TVA wasn’t fulfilling for him anymore, not like it is for B-15, but he doesn’t crave life the way Sylvie does either, isn’t content to head off into the sunset and never look back. Isn’t content at all.
The house he rents is comfortable enough, even if it is the worst on the block, not like the one Don, he, owns. It’s small and the interior is tired, faded wallpaper and scuffed floors, and the garden has run wild with neglect. But it has everything he needs: a bed to sleep in and a table to eat at and a roof over his head to shelter him. But despite the sun streaming through the windows, even with the thermostat turned all the way up, the chill never seems to leave him.
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gods-of-mischief · 1 year ago
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New wallpaper • Sophia Di Martino
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