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#for most of it the sacred timeline was a thing
musclesandhammering · 4 months
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Friendly reminder that there’s only one multiverse in the mcu. It covers everything- Marvel, Sony, Fox, etc. Those are all universes inside the multiverse… of which there is only one :) :)
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zingaplanet · 6 months
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Here's my take on the loki finale and why Mobius is the only one of the gang who didn't seem to have a conclusive, 'hopeful' ending.
Can't predict what the writers are thinking but the way I understand it is it's a hint that there's no version of reality where Loki is not there with him that will ever leave him fulfilled.
"Most purpose is more burden than glory," he said.
Others are shown finally having the choice to pursue their own "glory"/hope/ happiness. B-15 finds her purpose to lead and protect something she believes in, O.B. gets to live out his science fiction dream, writing a book of a place he now knows to be true and care about.
The end scene with Mobius and Sylvie is fascinating, for instance, because it shows the contrast between them both. Sylvie is different, she's reconstructed her own reality, found her own happines, lived a whole new life in the timeline without Loki or anyone.
But Mobius is the realist out of them all.
Mobius said before that he'd rather not know about his life before as it's easier not to, that the TVA is his whole life, that that's where he belongs. When the TVA changed, he finally left, but now he's there in front of the life he's supposed to have but he's in no hurry to go back, content to just "let the time pass."
I think he knows no matter which purpose he chose, whether at the TVA or getting his memory reinstalled back to him for a life on the timeline, there will always be a 'burden', something left lurking behind.
Maybe he realises he doesn't have a place 'he belongs to' anymore.
Perhaps it also dawns on him then, that it's never about the how (the TVA is changed now, no more prunings, no more sacred timeline, he would've done something he'd morally believe in if he stayed),
or the what (the jet skis, his garden, even his family, it could never be the same. It's incomplete, with all the burden of eons of memories behind him, and the lost of someone who made it possible)
or even the why (he's driven by 'the bigger picture', it's his one saving grace, the one thing he holds on to. He spent eons doing the same thing over and over, protecting the sacred timeline and what he believes to be true, when that turned out to be a bust, he turned his life upside down to protect his new purpose, the multiverse, but all of it is still to waste, they couldn't do it still, not without sacrificing-)
In the end, that wasn't what it's all about. The reason this whole madness started was because of one simple act of his, an insignificant character, to save someone, to be willing to take the leap in trusting one that everyone always dooms to fail. To tell that person, who never had anyone believe in him before, that they could "be anyone they want to be, even someone good."
It was never about the universe. Loki was right. It was never about the how, the what, or the why.
All along,
It was always about the who.
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miakwat · 2 years
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Crying rn I forgot about the Avenge the Fallen posters that came out to promote Endgame and I just saw the Loki one
It’s so weird to me that at the time I had only really cared about Peter
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talesofesther · 7 months
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what once was mine | ch 1
Loki x Reader
Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: A long overdue mini-series for one of my favorite characters of all time. I had this idea when season one of Loki first came out, but never got to writing it, and now with season two coming, I decided to finally do it. There are two important things that need to be said before we head into it though; firstly and most importantly, I will not be following the show's plot at all, this story will only be focusing on the relationship between Loki and the reader, after all that's what it is about and I don't want it to be unnecessarily huge; secondly, this story will be mostly told in moments, which means that not every single scene happening between the characters will be written down in length. Lastly, I do hope you can all enjoy it. <3
Masterlist
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Things felt worthless. Everything suddenly seemed unimportant. His whole life, everything he knew, felt small and frail. Because here, infinity stones were mere paperweights.
Loki scoffed as he pushed himself up from the floor, one hand coming up to tug at the collar still wrapped around his neck. This place made him feel as if his brain was melting, it was all too much, too sudden—sacred timeline, variants. A sense of utter helplessness started to weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.
Yet he couldn't hold himself back from sitting at the single table in the middle of the dim-lit room. The checkered image of the Avengers right in front of him seemed to be taunting him.
This was still the same day, right?
Or maybe not, Loki wasn't certain anymore; it sure didn't feel like the same day.
For a split second, as he looked down at the red, round device resting on top of the table, he thought about how everything here looked so old-fashioned. It was almost ironic, for a place out of time.
Loki couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him eventually. But if anyone had their whole life just a click away, they'd probably do the same.
So he watched, through glimpses passing on a screen, a life that was supposed to be his. He watched his mother die, and then his father; he watched as Thor called him a brother with a smile on his face again, and as they made earth a new home for Asgard. Loki's eyes were already a pool of tears as soon as his mother's lifeless body had appeared in front of him, they cascaded down his cheeks freely, leaving behind a damp path of a lifetime worth of mourning, now seen in less than a minute. The loss somehow felt greater, because now he wouldn't even have those moments to begin with.
But suddenly, amidst the moments of suffering and mistakes, an unfamiliar face appeared. She had a smile on her face most of the time, and even through the static of the image in front of him, Loki could clearly see the glint in her pupils, the crinkle beside her eyes. She was quite captivating, maybe that's why it took him a second to realize she was smiling at him.
A frown etched itself in Loki's eyebrows, he leaned forward on his chair as he pressed play again. Curiosity and... apprehension twirled wildly inside his stomach.
The moments with her were endless. Walks on the beach, shared ice creams, quiet nights watching a movie, dancing together in a dark kitchen, the golden rays of a sunset shining against her hair in a memory tucked away like a treasure; and even a moment of her talking with Tony Stark and the others, while her hand held tightly onto Loki's, the other Loki, that is. All of them looked futile, a simple existence Loki would never have considered fit for him; so why did these moments feel important?
Inside TVA's lonely room, Loki held his breath until his lungs ached. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and his eyes were stinging for a whole new reason. He could feel the shaking of his own hands. That look in her eyes, it was one of love, anyone who saw would know it. But the cause of the sudden lump in Loki's throat was the fact that this look was always directed at him. That love in her eyes, that smile on her lips; was for him.
Several minutes went by with him silently looking at the paused image of her on the checkered screen. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure why yet. If it was for the shock of learning that someone could love him this much; or because of the envy, the longing for something that wasn't even his, not really, he never got there after all.
There was a hole in his chest, a missing piece of something he never had. Loki didn't even know her name, yet a part of him was screaming it anyway.
He eventually moved on, and almost threw up when he watched Thanos take his life from him. Loki watched his brother cry over his lifeless body, yet he wasn't seeing her.
And despite the boatload of information thrown at him, the questions clouding his mind were only; who is she? Where is she?
Lost. Loki felt more lost than he probably ever did in his entire life. He had just watched what was supposed to be the rest of his life, yet... it wouldn't be. So what now?
He sat down on the small stairs of the room, burying his head in his hands.
And then there was this girl; smiling and laughing and holding his hand as if he had been the best thing to ever happen to her. This feeling, warm and heavy, squeezing Loki's heart, was a foreign one—he couldn't quite place why that look of pure adoration in her eyes was directed at him.
He needed to know who she was. He needed to find her and ask her why. He needed to know what she was, or- would be to him.
The sudden sound of the door opening startled Loki, he watched as Mobius walked into the room, his steps overly cautious. "Loki? Nowhere left to run."
Gulping back a sob clawing its way through his throat, Loki took a deep breath. He slowly glanced up, voice calm and defeated as he asked a question he already knew the answer to; "I can't go back, can I?"
Mobius simply looked at him, his eyes holding some kind of sympathy as he spared Loki from hearing the truth out loud.
Loki pursed his lips, his gaze slowly trailed back to the screen on his left that again adorned a paused image of the mysterious girl. Her lips were turned up just slightly, dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she held a slowly melting ice cream in one of her hands. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.
Placing his weapon on the table, Mobius let out a long sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about her."
The words made Loki snap his head towards him, a frown coming to his eyebrows immediately.
"She..." Mobius hesitated, "she is someone almost as annoying as you."
"That doesn't answer my question." Loki nearly sounded offended. He got up then, taking slow steps towards Mobius. "She seemed... important, yet I don't know who she is."
"I'm afraid you haven't met her yet."
"Then tell me who she is."
Mobius grimaced; "I don't think it's my place to say it."
"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, "it's my life we're talking about here."
"How about we help each other then, hm?" Mobius offered, and when Loki only frowned at him, he continued; "a fugitive Variant has been killing our Minutemen."
Loki narrowed his eyes. "And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him?"
A small smirk came to Mobius' lips; "That's right. You help us stop him. I get you an opportunity to meet her and you can ask her whatever questions you want to know."
A meeting with someone didn't feel like much for his end of the bargain, but that same voice inside Loki was still screaming a name he didn't know how to spell. He had to know.
"Deal."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Read ch 2 here
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Loki’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us
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residenthughes · 2 months
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slow sundays - mat barzal
pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader
word count: 1k
tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, no mention of y/n
summary: any day spent with barzal is always good, especially sundays.
notes: a little something i wrote when i should have been sleeping, oops! may write a longer version, may not but i'll definitely write up something else longer for barzy, as well as some other fics that i've started and am very excited to share, hehe! as always, hope this finds u well and that you enjoy this small ball of fluff. much love! <3
oh! forgot to mention, this post is inspired by this post by @novelbear! they spoil tumblr rotten with such adorable prompts! :)
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Sundays are your favourite days of the week. The normal anxieties that creep in from a long lived weekend cease to exist in your timeline, a day defined by slow sweetness and sacred serenity. This year you’ve really lucked out with said day, most of Mat’s games scheduled another time and on the off chance he has practice, it’s before you can even pry yourself from the comfort of your cloud-like mattress. This is one of those Sundays, where you’re tucked away in citrus scented sheets, fast asleep as Mat presses a tender kiss on the bridge of your nose before he goes off to do what he does best, leaving you to emerge from your cocoon whenever you please.
You decide shortly after Mat departs to desert the covers, arranging them neatly with a sleepy pout set onto your puffy lips before starting your share of morning chores. Amidst the array of bits and bobs you cater to around your cosy home, you cook up a breakfast built for two - piping hot and ready to eat by the time Mat’s car pulls up the driveway. 
You drape your arms lazily around his nape, beaming a lovesick grin as you peck your long-time lover. “Good practice?”
“Great practice,” he breathes against you, minty fresh with the faint waft of his accompanying cologne. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer, your body snug in his embrace. “But I’ve got better things waiting for me right here.”
His large hands cup a handful of your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze that involuntarily makes you jump against him, your cheeks crimsoning. “And to think, that’s the thanks I get for making us breakfast.”
Mat releases his grip as you back away, disbelief washing all over his sculpted features as he gives you a cocked eyebrow and a petty laugh. “Says the one who-”
Your hand comes up, an index finger raised. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
Wordlessly, Mat holds his hands up in surrender, brazen-faced as you send him an eye-roll with crossed arms. Despite the circumstances, your hands find the top of his zipper, opening up his coat before you hang it up near the door in perfect routine. The selfless action still warrants one of your favourite kisses from your boyfriend, kisses from side-to-side - a kiss on the cheek, nose and cheek again. A simple action but one that robs you of all oxygen, a lightness in your limbs and a tingle down your spine. You soon turn around with Mat trailing not far behind as you venture back to your spacious kitchen, settling at the quaint table for two - a single vase rose separating your plates packed with all your breakfast favourites.
Before you have the chance to take your seat at your baby blue painted table, Mat comes up from behind you, cradling you in his sugary embrace as he plants a delicate kiss against your temple, your heart overflowing with the magic of your slow Sundays together. “How’d I get so lucky?”
You hum blissfully, a hand delicate against his stubble-ridden cheek as you simply exist together, limbs tangled as you savour the moment like sand slipping through your fingertips. A quick kiss against Mat’s prickly cheek puts a pause on the moment, your grin giddy as your hand takes Mat’s as you direct him to sit, which he does - no questions asked, fuschia dusted upon the apples of his cheeks.
You fall into perfect routine, your brunch a show that consists of all your favourites: Mat’s cutlery glimmering in the soft rays pouring into the windowed kitchen as he cuts his food, ceremoniously offering you the first bite of his food with the same smitten closed mouth smile that he had the first day he met you. Happily, you accept his generous offer and take a bite, beaming with full rosy cheeks as he swipes the crumbs with such an earnest shimmer in his eyes that it makes your heart squeeze with joy.
Your brunch continues in similar fashion, two enamoured partners basking in the company of another as you bond over a hearty plate of food, time lost in endless dialogues and timeless ‘I love you’s. When there’s nothing but crumbs speckled across your ceramic plates, Mat shoos you away before you can get a protest in, you resorting to sulking on the edge of couch as the sounds of plates clinking together competes with the noise coming from the TV. 
When everything’s said and done, the washing up dried and packed away, Mat shuffles into the lounge, falling into the couch with a grunt as he positions himself as close to you as possible. You can never bring yourself to mind, head falling to his broad shoulder once he’s propped his feet against the hickory coffee table with his arm circling your shoulders. Another kiss atop your head tells you he’s settled and you melt into his side, no objections sounding from your long-time boyfriend as reruns of 'The Bachelor' blare from the TV. If anything, Mat immerses just as much as you. Well, as much as the slightly fatigue man can as his fingers absently fiddle with locks of your hair, the gesture a lullaby that aids your sudden drowsiness that links hands with the warmth emitting from Mat’s body that always fits against yours like a puzzle piece.
Before you’re able to drift away into a shallow slumber, a slumber you both shall share prior to your simple plans for the day, Mat’s sleep-laced voice calls out to you. 
“Waking up next to you is the best part of my day.”
And you chuckle softly because of the simple fact you know this to be true - evidenced in the way affirmations of love fall so easily from his lips, in the way he never allows you to walk near any busy roads and buys you flowers just because. And, best of all, when your precious Sunday comes and goes, your Monday view consists of your beautiful boyfriend as you reverse out of your driveway, a sleepy smile mellowed into his features as he sees you off, hollering one and the same line wishing you a great day at work, which is nothing but granted if you’ve got him by your side. 
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spacedace · 1 month
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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.
Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.
(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)
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Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.
A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.
It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.
Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.
Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.
But they were still kids.
Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.
Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.
Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.
Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.
They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.
Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.
Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.
They all knew why.
The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.
That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.
Robin II was an Alley Kid.
A true child of Gotham.
Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.
Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.
He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
Bad things happened to good kids all the time.
And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.
Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.
The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.
Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.
Or so the rumors said, at least.
That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.
Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.
And then the news came in.
There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.
Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.
Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.
Alone.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.
The Joker wasn’t most folks.
And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.
Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.
And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.
Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.
But the Bat would find him.
They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.
It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
The Clown still lived.
The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.
No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.
That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.
They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.
And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.
Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.
Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.
Not Robin II either.
Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.
No.
It was a new Robin.
A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.
Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.
The Clown had killed Robin II.
Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.
Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.
The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.
But he never did.
Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.
Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.
And then the Bat stepped in.
Revived the fucking Clown.
A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.
He was a good kid.
He deserved better.
Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.
Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.
It was their turn.
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fqreverwinter · 1 month
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“time-slipping”
— — — —
relationship: loki x fem!reader
summary: you were loki’s teenage love, but he lost you too soon. in his quest to save the sacred timeline, he time-slips to you, not knowing that you are the one thing that could help him.
warnings: none! :)
word count: 2.6k
notes: i guess i’m back in my loki era! this contains some spoilers for season two, so please read with caution if you have not seen it yet!
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The pain was like no other; time-slipping felt like Loki was being torn into a million pieces while being squished into a small box at the same time. Light flashed around him, making him feel dizzy whilst experiencing the excruciating pain. After the blinding few seconds that the phenomenon lasted, Loki finally landed in whatever spot the force thought he needed to be in next.
At first, he was confused. He was surrounded by trees and mountains—no where he had ever teleported to before. Once he got his bearings, he realized where he was.
Asgard.
It was strange. Each time Loki time-slipped, it was to a place that he had unfinished business in, whether it was the TVA in the past or the McDonald's in the way past that Sylvie worked in. He thought he had no unfinished business in Asgard.
He groaned. Unless it was to deal with his brother or his father.
As Loki began to curse whatever force was behind his teleportation for bringing him here to deal with his family drama, he heard a voice off in the distance. He paused, trying to determine where he knew this voice from. Then he heard it again and his heart skipped a beat.
"It can't be," he whispered under his breath, peeking around the tree that he spawned behind. But it was true. There, you sat, the first and greatest love he ever had.
You were on a stone bench in the middle of one of the many gardens of Asgard. Your hair was blowing in the soft summer breeze as you read aloud—your favorite way to read—a Midgardian book. Loki watched as you smiled or frowned with each line you read, taking in all of the features of your face that he missed so dearly.
You and Loki had met when you were teenagers. You lived in a cottage near the palace with your parents, both prominent jewelers in the realm. He came to their store one day with his brother to pick out a pair of earrings for the queen's birthday. You just happened to be sitting behind the counter talking with your mother when they arrived.
As soon as Loki laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to marry you. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. While Thor worked with your mother to find the gift for Frigga, he walked over to you and began a conversation.
Loki came to the shop almost every day for two weeks, asking about you every single time. You never really frequented the store, so most of the time, your parents would turn him away. After his thirteenth visit in fifteen days, your father had enough and finally took Loki back to your cottage, where you were baking, another favorite hobby of yours. Your father explained that this "obnoxious prince" had tormented the store for too long and just wanted the pain to be over, as Loki stood behind him with a sheepish grin. You laughed and invited Loki to sit with you.
The rest became history. You and Loki officially began dating after a few outings, mostly walks along the forest or snacking on fruit in the palace's courtyard. Loki was enamored with you, as you were enamored with him.
But the worst happened just seven months after your relationship began. Loki left the palace that morning with the intention of bringing you to the library within the palace, somewhere you had expressed interest in seeing but never had the chance to visit. He planned a whole day: explore the shelves, allow you to pick as many books as you wanted, then have dinner with him and his family so you could meet them properly.
As he approached your neighborhood, he noticed swarms of people standing outside the perimeters as guards blocked anyone from approaching. Curious, Loki walked up to one guard that he recognized and asked what had happened. The guard explained that last night, a group of bandits had broken into the home of a jeweler with the intent to steal some of the more precious jewelry that they kept there. The family woke up in the process and they slaughtered all three: a mother, a father, and a daughter.
The words struck Loki like a knife. His heart sank as he started to push past the guards, but they refused to budge.
"Your highness, we cannot let you through. They are removing the bodies."
"No! You must! That's my love!" he cried, still trying to push past. But it was no use. He peeked through the gaps between the guards to see if he could catch a glimpse of the scene. The only thing he was able to see was your hand, one that he recognized because of the gold ring you always wore. It was covered in blood.
Loki shook the flashbacks out of his head as he continued to watch you read on the bench. Quite honestly, he never got over that day. It sent him into a dark spiral, one that probably led him to making all the poor choices he did and landing in this godforsaken TVA in the first place. But then he wondered, why would the slipping bring him here?
He tried to move closer to you without being obvious, hoping that there was something in the surroundings that would explain his sudden landing here. As he tiptoed closer, however, he stepped on a branch, leading to a loud crack! Your head snapped up at the noise, and you made eye contact with him. Loki froze, unsure of what to do.
"Loki?" you asked. "Is that you?"
He hesitated before saying, "Uh—Yes. It's me."
You smiled softly. "What are you doing? Why are you hiding? Come here."
You shifted to the side as you closed your book and placed it on your lap. He took a breath before emerging from underneath the tree. He could see you clearly now, and your beautiful face made his heart began to race all over again
How could this be happening? he wondered. How could you be here?
"You look... different. What's with the outfit change? It's so strange," you said through a giggle.
Loki smiled at your laugh, something that he hadn't heard in so long but always brought him comfort. He cleared his throat and answered, "Um, I was trying something new. Do you not like it?"
You shrugged, "I wouldn't say it's my favorite look of yours, but I could get used to it. Come sit next to me. I missed you."
He took another deep breath before sitting beside you on the bench, moving so carefully in case you were to disappear at any sudden movement. You reached over and brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear, noticing a new scar on the side of his face.
"What happened, sweetheart?" you asked with a frown, tracing your finger over it. "How could this have happened since last night?"
"Uh, it didn't," he replied, panicking for a response.
You furrowed your brows. "Then how have I never noticed it before? And why do you look so... different?"
You leaned back and looked at him closely, noticing some key differences. He looked older than you were used to, so much taller and so much stronger. He looked exhausted and frustrated and anxious all at the same time. Something in you said that this was not the Loki you knew.
Loki sighed, deciding to come clean. He could tell you knew something was up. And of course you did; he was foolish to think that he could ever pull the wool over your eyes. You were never one to fall for his tricks.
"The truth is, I'm from the future. I'm stuck in this... bureaucracy that controls the timeline of the universe. Something happened and the timeline is falling apart, and I've been slipping in and out of different places in time as a consequence."
You looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. But when Loki's face didn't change, you stopped.
"You're serious?" you asked with a surprised expression.
"Unfortunately, I am," he replied, hanging his head. "For some reason, I spawned here. I have no idea why. You—You're dead. You died, darling. And I don't know if this is some sort of torture from the bastard at the end of time or if there is some other motive—but it's breaking my heart to see you."
You looked at Loki as he sat beside you, breathing heavily and shaking from the emotions coursing through him. His words sat in your thoughts—you die? Well, obviously, you die at some point, but you die young?
You had a million questions to ask him about this circumstance, but you knew that wasn't the reason he was here. You decided to focus on him instead.
"Loki," you began, placing your hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you with tears running down his face.
"Don't cry, my love. You were brought here for a reason, and I doubt it was torture. What are you trying to do with this timeline? Do you need to fix it?"
He nodded, "We have to stop it from branching or—or this dangerous man will escape and start a war."
"Right," you said with a nod, although the entire situation confused you. "So what is stopping you?"
Loki sighed and looked back down at his hands. "I—I keep doing this time-slipping, and I don't know why. I cannot figure out what I am supposed to do. I've been working at it for centuries at this point, and every time I get remotely close, something happens and it doesn't work. And there's one final option left—but I just can't bring myself to do it."
Your heart broke at his lament. You loved him so much, and you hated seeing him so beat down like this. Then, he froze before picking his head up and looking at you with that mischievous grin that you recognized.
"I know! I know why I was brought here! I'm meant to save you!" he claimed excitedly. "I-I can save you from your death, and that way none of this would have ever happened. I can correct the wrongs of the past and just be happy."
His smile dropped when he realized you didn't return his excitement. Instead, you placed your hand on his knee and gave him a sad smile.
"I don't think that's the solution, love."
"No! It is! It has to be! This is the only place that the time-slipping has taken me to that had nothing to do with the people I met at the TVA. Clearly, I'm meant to prevent your death so that we can live happily together and I never made the mistakes I did."
"Loki," you said with a sigh, taking both of his hands in yours. "You said you had a choice to make, that there was a final option. Why won't you do it?"
He looked at you right in your eyes, clearly confused as to why you wouldn't just accept the fact that he wanted to save you. "Um, well, it would mean I'd never get to see my friends again. Like, physically. I'd be able to see them but they'd never be able to see me. And ever since you have been gone, I have had the hardest time finding a group of people to accept me again. I am not willing to let that go quite yet."
"Love, have I ever told you the story about my old dog?" you asked.
Loki looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Uh, no, I don't think so."
"Well," you began with a smile. "Her name was Daisy. She was this gorgeous little retriever who could brighten anyone's day. I got her when I was just four years old, so we pretty much grew up together. She was my favorite thing in the whole wide world. Then, just a few years ago, Daisy started to slow down. She was tired all the time, and she wouldn't eat or play. So, we took her to the closest animal expert. He said that she was really sick. We had to make the decision to either try a medicine that might work but could leave her in pain for the rest of her life or let her go out on her own terms. Do you know what we did?"
He shook his head.
"My parents left the decision up to me because she was technically my dog. I decided to not try the medicine and let her die on her own. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. I would have loved to have more years with my Daisy, but I knew that she would not be happy. In the end, I had to make the choice that I knew was right, even if it meant losing something I loved."
Loki looked at you with wide eyes, nearly on the verge of tears again. He leaned into your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. Somehow, you always knew just what to say to make him feel better.
"So, my love," you began again, holding him close to you. "Sometimes we have to make the hard choice. Sometimes you have to give up something you love. But in the end, it will be worth it."
You held him for a while, no words spoken between the two of you. You could tell that Loki needed this, he needed to just be around you for a little while longer.
Loki, now knowing what he had to do, just took in the moment for as long as he could. It had been years since he felt you. He memorized every curve of your body, every feeling he had touching you, the way you gently rubbed circles on his shoulder, the way you placed a soft kiss on his forehead every so often.
"Thank you," he finally muttered, sitting up and looking at your eyes again. "I just miss you so much."
"I know, sweetheart," you said. "But look at the life you have without me!"
Loki shook his head with a cynical laugh. "I tried to kill Thor, destroy Jotunheim, then take over Midgard until I was captured and forced into this bureaucracy. I have had no life without you, darling."
You looked at him in disbelief for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to all that. "Well, now you have the chance to make up for all that. Be a hero, my love. What's that thing you always say? Greater purpose?"
He laughed, "Glorious purpose, yes."
"Yeah, that! Do that, sweetheart. I'll love you forever, no matter what happens. You know that."
He nodded and stood up, finally feeling ready to take on his mission. As he rose, he noticed the world around you starting to turn into string. He could not bear seeing you disappear again like he saw all his friends. It would be too much, losing you twice. You looked around in confusion as well.
"What's going on?" you asked with a puzzled look.
"It's no matter. Just look at me," Loki replied. You turned to face him. He smiled, memorizing your face one last time.
"Thank you again, my darling. I love you more than you'll ever know."
You smiled at him one last time.
Somehow, Loki had figured out how to control his time-slipping. He felt it in his veins as he was able to spawn back in the TVA without any excruciating pain or blinding light. He looked around at all of his friends—all the people he met on this journey. He closed his eyes and pictured you, the beautiful you he saw sitting on the bench and reading your book. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and formulated his plan to save the world.
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waywardsummoner46 · 2 months
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‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ Sink Into the Darkness, My Light | One | ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
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──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
"Join us, my Light."
Two centuries ago, the ruler of the Light disappeared, plunging the universe into chaos and disrupting the sacred, unspoken balance of the universe.
The eight rulers of the Darkness never stopped looking for her; their obsession never once waning since she vanished.
Recently, they've sensed something. Never around long enough to pinpoint but so euphoric that it sings within their veins. And since meeting you, well... slowly they begin to understand why.
"Sink into the darkness with us."
──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
「✦」 PAIRING - yandere ot8!ateez x (?)reader
「✦」 GENRE - ancient gods!au, fantasy!au, magical powers!au
「✦」 WARNINGS - mind control, gaslighting, dom/sub, subspace (of a sort), temporary amnesia, manipulation, YANDERE AND DARK THEMES
「✦」 WORD COUNT - 4,343
「✦」 A/N - Long time no see, huh...
「✦」 TAGLIST - Let me know if you'd like to be added :)
──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
• one • two • three •
──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
“Oh, Ji-Ah! You really didn’t have to, you know.”
   Holding your phone up to your ear, your eyes twinkled as they beheld the gifts your friend had gotten you.
  “Of course I didn’t have to, but it’s your birthday and I… I wanted to.” 
  She quietened towards the end of her sentence, and your heart clenched at the sincerity of the gifts and her words.
  “Ji-Ah…”
  Whilst you were at work that day, she must’ve used her spare key to your apartment and placed all of these presents on your living room table. The book you had been raving over for the past few months was sitting in a brand new giant teddy bear’s lap, all decorated and styled with a bow. A now-opened card sat neatly to their side, a picture of you both from a few years ago on its cover and the sweetest message inside. 
  As much as you appreciated everything and made sure to verbalise that gratitude to her, you both knew that the book was what held your attention the most. You had spent literal months searching for it, ‘The Hidden War Within.’
  When you’d first mentioned it to Ji-Ah, she’d laughed and asked if it was some sort of mindfulness, positive psychology type book. You’d dismissed her playfully, stating that she wasn’t necessarily incorrect but ignored the actual content of the book. ‘The Hidden War Within’ is a novel by a collection of authors over the course of centuries; it’s written from the first person perspective and tells the tale of a lady, every time, who aims to nurture the goodness in people and minimise the evil that could fester. The antagonist, a male whose origins vary, actively dismisses her aims, instead wishing to incite sin and discourse within the people of the land. The  descriptions of the constant battle between the pure aims of the protagonist and the insidious intentions of the antagonist captivated you in an inexplicable way; the applications this has to the human race as a whole really piqued your interest.
  Philosophical topics was something you dabbled in on occasion but the discussion between good and evil being a force out of the individual control of a person and, instead, determined by forces beyond comprehension did cause some discussion between you and Ji-Ah. Mainly, are people born evil or is it an environmental thing?
  The fact that it had been written from numerous authors over the span of centuries was another aspect that only deepened your intrigue. How had authors, all from different parts of the globe and periods of time, collectively written something akin to a timeline of a novel? Realistically, the only thing the stories within the novel had in common was that they discussed the same topic in eerily similar detail just with different historical influences, but that only reinforced the entire philosophical debate of are people born evil.  
  Undeniably, ‘The Hidden War Within’ had wormed its way as a repetitive topic within your friendship and that enabled your obsession with the novel to grow until you were borderline desperate to possess it for yourself.  
  So, as you held it in your hands, tears of unfiltered happiness streamed down your face silently. “Thank-”   “You are very, very welcome,” she cut you off. Then, there was a pause on her line. “To repay me, if you’re feeling oh-so indebted to me, you have to come out with us for a drink tonight.” 
  You knew that the tender moment wouldn’t last long, not with Ji-Ah’s aversion to lengthy emotional situations. 
   Still, you sighed. 
  “Ji-Ah, you know I don’t drink.” You’d had a few in the past, curious to try it out but it never became anything more than just that - a new experience. Alcohol was off-putting to you, it just never tickled your fancy and after seeing what it can lead to… well, fair to say you’d rather stay away from the stuff. 
  Ji-Ah, bless her, was very accommodating to this particularity of yours and always ensured that you were as comfortable as possible at any social event. Hence why her next words weren’t a surprise, “You don’t have to drink-drink, but I am going to have lots of drink-drinks… if that’s okay with you?”
  You laughed softly, shaking your head lightly even though you knew she couldn’t see you. “I trust you, Ji-Ah. I know you’re responsible with it. It’s Jee-Won that I’m dreading, you know how she gets.” 
  Everyone knew how Jee-Won got after a few drinks, especially at a bar where there were plenty of young, ‘attractive’ men to scope out. Her fascination with picking out another guy at every social event was sad because she could quite easily find someone to truly love her and be loved by her. Alas, you might have to resign yourself to her drunken activities and pray that whoever she invited back to the table tonight would be decent and not equally as unhinged as she could be.
  On the other end of the phone call, you could basically hear her thinking of how to convince you to go and as painful as it was to admit to yourself, her persistence was slowly grating at your resilience. 
  The teddy bear sitting on your living room table was practically begging you with its plastic, unseeing eyes. Ji-Ah had bought you all of those gifts and… it was only one night, wasn’t it? And it was your birthday? Surely, it couldn’t be that bad…
  A heavy, resigned sigh escaped your lips and Ji-Ah practically squealed over the phone. 
  “See you at eight! You will not regret this, (Y/N).”
  Somehow, you already did.
──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
  It was her fault really that you were in this situation, really. She couldn’t possibly have expected anything different, right? 
  Maybe she did, maybe she expected you to resist, to battle it off as much as you could but her optimism would be her downfall. 
  The urge was just too mighty, the temptation too unbearable to deny and you, too unfortunately stubborn for your own good.
  Looking down at your tote bag, swimming with an array of different chocolates and a multitude of her favourite sweets, you grinned. She’d definitely kill you for buying these for her but words of thanks just weren’t satisfactory enough. Her gifts had quite literally made you cry; you needed to show her, rather than tell her, just how much you cherished her actions.
  Deep down, you knew that she knew that. It was also just fun to see the outrage on her face when you presented her with chocolates or some flowers whenever she’d gone out of her way to spoil you. 
  Deep down, you also knew that she knew that you knew she secretly likes her efforts being appreciated so much and it always makes for a phenomenal movie night whenever you shower her with a myriad of sweet and sugary specials (not that she’d ever admit to that).
  There was something missing from your horde of tradeable valuables and that was, in fact, a palette of different coloured flowers. With a subtle mischief to your stride, you made your way to your most trusted, dear florist ‘Life Rose On’.
  The name never fails to make you chuckle.
  On Jung-Hee owned the beautiful establishment and had been a friend of sorts since you moved to the area five years ago. When moving into your then-new apartment, you decided that the first step to making the space your own was to liven up each room with different colours and types of flowers. 
  Your idea worked like a charm and really helped to keep you motivated when unpacking. Jung-Hee very kindly took the time out of her day to help you hand select each individual flower (and entertained your ceaseless indecision); from that day, you always made sure to drop by whenever you were in town to say hello and to drop off some soju. The old lady was very open about her love for the stuff, even if you had no interest in it. 
  If it was for Jung-Hee, there’s not a lot you wouldn’t do. You loved the elderly lady like your own grandmother and would also lend a helping hand should she need it. 
  She was similar to you in the way that she always repaid you through gifts for your considerate actions - typically a free bouquet of your favourite flowers. 
  After a nice stroll through town, you reached the florist. 
  Unsurprisingly, the window display was stuffed to the brim with a myriad of floral beauties that looked like Mother Nature’s mosaic. Jung-Hee seriously knew how to capture an onlooker's attention and, judging from how many people you could see in the shop beyond the glazed window, she’d succeeded immensely.
  You crossed the street, navigating the crowd of people on the pavements. 
  You got so caught up in the masses of people that you failed to notice the raised step at the entrance of ‘Life Rose On’ and, ultimately, began falling to your doom.
  Letting out an embarrassing squeak of surprise, you braced yourself for the impact with the floor that… never came.
  Peeling your eyes open in mild confusion,  you barely suppressed your gasp of shock at the kind eyes of the stranger that had caught you. You both stayed in whatever position he’d caught you in - you were too out of it to process that properly - and took the opportunity to analyse each others’ face.
  He had the warmest eyes you’d ever seen, a gorgeous galaxy of chocolatey velvet wrapped up in his irises. His lips, parted ever so slightly and downturned, were rosey red and were porcelain in their appearance, flawless and beautiful. Delicate waves of dark hair lined his forehead and it took all of your energy not to reach up and smooth a stray strand out. 
  It felt like hours had passed with you looking into his eyes and examining his face. You couldn’t get enough, there was something so captivating about him, something that made you want to know more-
  Someone cleared their throat. Both you and the stranger were shocked out of your respective reveries and a light blush dusted your cheeks. The stranger seemed completely composed, in contrast. The person who’d cleared their throat was a customer trying to leave through the doorway but found it difficult with two humanoid obstacles in the way. You were happy to see that the lady wasn’t a regular, so she probably wouldn’t bump into her on another occasion. 
  Huffing at your distracted apology, the lady moved past you and the stranger and out of the florist. Now that you and the man were both standing by yourself and pointedly not tripping over some violent, unseen step, you struggled to maintain a neutral expression when you saw how tall he was compared to you. 
  He was easily six foot tall, and using the door as a substitute measuring tape you guessed that he might be slightly taller than that as well. You cursed yourself internally. Of all the people that had to see and catch you, why did it need to be this man? 
  “I am so sorry, are you alright?” You questioned with an apology written all over your face. 
  And, oh, if you thought his face was perfect, then his voice was enough to cause you to ascend. “I’m perfectly fine, are you alright?” how were you supposed to keep composed when his voice sounded like that. 
  Smiling self-deprecatingly, you responded, “I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for that.”
  “Don’t worry about it.” And you didn’t, not really. Not when he assured you so confidently that there was absolutely nothing to trouble yourself with. “Tell me your name.”
  Instinctually, you went to tell him but something held you back. Possibly the way he’d said it - a demand rather than a question. Possibly something else. Although, It struck you as odd that that was how he’d go about that topic but figuring it was largely irrelevant and most likely you were reading too much into things you gave him your name.
  “(Y/N),” he repeated, your name sliding off his tongue so heavenly. “My, how interesting. I used to know someone with the same name.”
  Your eyebrows raised in polite surprise. “Oh, really?”
  He smiled down at you but there was a pinch of something unpleasant weaved into his expression, “Yes. A very compelling woman, was she.” His sudden emotion made you mildly uncomfortable, feeling as though you’d unintentionally uprooted some harsh forgotten memories. 
  Before you could say anything, though, the man bowed to you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance, (Y/N). My name is Yunho.”
  Yunho. 
  You finally had a name to match his angelic face. It suited him perfectly.
  Smiling, a genuine, light-hearted one this time, you mirrored his bow before you both straightened and simply stood there, on the doorway to the shop, and gazed at each other silently. There was something about this man that made you search his eyes, the very deepest, darkest parts of his pupils to find his soul. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside of you said that Yunho was very unique.
  Very unique indeed.
──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
  Yunho and you had spoken for another twenty minutes before he’d had to leave.
  The entire time, you were hanging off of his every word and couldn’t quite escape the magnetism of his irises. There was something so captivating with the way he spoke; the words he chose, the tone in which they were woven but also how calming his deep voice was. And, oh, his eyes.
  You couldn’t stop thinking about them. 
  Glancing at your phone, the time read 13:26. That left you about six and a half hours before you had to be there, five hours before you had to get ready, four hours before you got some food and only two hours and a half before you went home. 
  Flowers were the last thing on your list, so once you’d picked out a personalised bouquet for Ji-Ah you’d be able to browse whatever other shops tickled your fancy and then go home, to get ready for your “night out”.
  The more you thought about it, the more you regretted your decision to go. Realistically, you’d most likely have a phenomenal time if you allowed yourself to indulge in the experience. But sitting on your living room table was the one thing you’d wanted for months; it was finally in your grasp and you couldn’t even read it until tomorrow (because you weren’t stupid, you won’t be leaving the club until two in the morning).
  Helplessly, you sighed. There was no way to escape your fate. It was inevitable. At least the flowers were pretty.
  ‘Life Rose On’ was, for lack of a better word, a labyrinth. The only reason you could get around as quick as you could was because you’d navigated its maze-like twists and turns for five years and, even then, when Jung-Hee decided that the shop was getting “too predictable”, she’d reorganise the entire shop so that any hope of save journey was futile. The woman loved to keep people on their toes, her distaste for monotony something you admired contrary to the perilous jungle that was her shop.
  The shop was bigger than it appeared; the bleak outside of the shop didn’t do its magnificent interior any justice. As soon as you entered the florists, an archway made entirely of Japanese Wisteria, Mandevilla and Clematis enveloped you with their sweet smells. Each climbing plant twisting so delicately around the foundations of the archway and certain pieces dangling down in a still, flowery downfall; the occasional petal falling to the ground made walking into the shop feel like you were stepping into another realm with only nature’s best caressing you lightly on their way down to join those who fell before them. 
  After the winding walkway, there was the option to take a left or a right turn. Both laid out to be the start of a rainbow - the beginning of each row included dark red roses, amaryllis to name a few and continued down the line with plants including sunflowers, bluebells and lavender. 
  On Jung-Hee loved a spectacle. She was only just getting started.
  The overall layout of the shop was circular. So, after making your choice of left or right, you would be brought to a turn that took you further towards the centre of the shop. Instead of beginning from red and going down the rainbow, Jung-Hee intricately places each and every flower on these stands to mirror the symbol of whatever season of the year it was. For example, for Valentine’s day, she had gathered the flowers and created a phenomenal display of plants made to look like a landscape of a couple sitting on a mountain, overlooking the horizon. 
  What made ‘Life Rose On’ so unique is that Jung-Hee’s life quite literally revolved around the shop and had dedicated her life to making the shop thrive. It was her family heirloom in a way. The building itself had been in her family for generations but she’s been the first to utilise it to its full potential and allow her family home to bloom to its fullest extent. 
  It was that same ideology that inspired her to make it a florist. Ever the poet, she said that every plant or flower sold was pollen and her customers were the bees, helplessly drawn to its beauty and coming to crave its offerings as sustenance. 
  “You will always be my favourite bee, my dear,” she always said. 
  “And you’ll always be my favourite flower,” you’d respond with an unrestrained smile on your face. 
  After the landscape aisles of the shop, you’d finally reach the centre where the cash register was. Dotted around it, however, were individual stands and displays of flowers that may not have been considered as suitable for the display chosen that month or were simply too big to be practical anywhere more confined. 
  And sitting at the cash register, looking effortlessly in her element would be Jung-Hee. 
  Except… she wasn’t there. A young man was sitting there instead, one you’d never heard of before, let alone seen. Jung-Hee had no children nor did she have any nephews of close relations to anyone of his description.
  You hadn’t seen his face yet, having turned right after the archway you’d reached the centre from behind the cash register so his back was turned to serve the small line of customers there, but you found it slightly odd that Jung-Hee wasn’t at the register she seemed to be glued to six days a week (it used to be seven but you managed to convince her to take Sunday off to look after herself, rather than others for once).
  Biting your lip slightly, you looked down at the collection of blue hyacinths and forget-me-nots you’d collected for Ji-Ah and contemplated coming back at a later date. There was nothing necessarily wrong with having a stranger in Jung-Hee’s place but you had brought along some small things you wanted to give her today and, evidently, you wouldn’t be able to do that. Ji-Ah would still have her flowers and chocolates and whatnot, but at a later date. 
  Thinking about it, it made more sense to kill two birds with one stone at a later date. You wouldn’t be able to give Ji-Ah the flowers until after they’d died anyway due to your schedules being unaligned after tonight and the florist you were looking for was nowhere to be seen.
  Then again…
  “Daisies would work wonderfully with those.” 
  You jolted and looked up to meet the eyes of one of the prettiest, most angelic people you’ve ever seen in your life. Internally, you were mildly shocked at how such a smooth, deep voice could match such an innocent face and yet, somehow the low baritone of his voice was as pleasurable to listen to as his eyes were to gaze into. 
  The irony of his rosy red lips wasn’t lost on you. 
  The man had a birthmark on his cheek, strands of parted black hair framed it like the most cherished picture. Because this man was a work of art, and he deserved to be framed for eternity. 
  Two men. Two heart-wrenchingly handsome men had crossed paths with you in less than twenty minutes. The first one you’d made a fool of yourself to. You’d be damned if you ruined this chance to redeem yourself, even if only to make yourself feel better,
  Meeting his eyes, you took a subtle breath to steel your nerves. “Do you think so? I was debating between purple tulips or just buying them as they are, but I see where you’re coming from.”
  Alright, a slight ramble perhaps but at least you didn’t stumble over your words (or your feet like with Yunho).
  The way his eyes twinkled with sudden interest gave you a bit of confidence. “An interesting choice, but don’t you think the contrast of the daisy’s white petals against the darker purples and blues would only add to the beauty of them all?”
  Contemplatively, you looked down at your hands and imagined the picture he’d painted in your hand. It did make sense, actually. As he said, the contrast between dark and light made a very balanced, very alluring image inside your head. “Ah, you know what? You’re right, that would look lovely.”
  He leant back (you didn’t register when he’d closed a slight distance between you), and looked proud of himself. Dare you say it, the pleased expression he wore was adorable. 
  “I’m glad I could help. My name is Yeosang.”
  Yeosang.
   Just like when you learnt Yunho’s name, something felt so instinctively right about that. Not only did the name suit him perfectly but as though something thrumming underneath your skin calmed after learning his name. 
  “(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for your help, Yeosang-ssi,” you bow deeply so that he avoids seeing the blush dusted across your cheeks. You don’t know what it was, but there was something going on with you today. First Yunho, now Yeosang. Two complete strangers that had affected you more in two minutes than a lot of people had in two years. 
  “You’re very welcome, (Y/N).”
  Yeosang helped you to find however many daisies you wanted (six) and walked you to the register, all while making small talk. It was only when you saw him stand behind the counter rather than in the queue did you make the connection between the mysterious new worker and this kind stranger. 
  Lips parting softly, you placed the flowers into his outstretched hand for him to place them into the bouquet wrapping. “How long have you worked here?”
  His hands worked the ribbon around the patterned wrapping so expertly that you wondered how much practice he’d had at this. “I’ve been here for about two years this month.”
  Two years? Impossible, you would’ve run into him at some point with how frequently you visit the shop. And even if by the very small chance that hadn’t occurred, Jung-Hee would’ve told you of such a development. 
 “How come Jung-Hee never mentioned you?”
  At your question, his hands slowed momentarily but picked up from his slight hesitation as though nothing had happened. “You know Jung-Hee?”
  “I’ve known her for nearly five years now. She’s always been wonderful company and an even better friend.”
  He hummed thoughtfully, “I find it odd she never mentioned me, I must admit.” Finishing wrapping the flowers up, he made eye contact with you again and the sudden tenseness and mild hostility you found in them caught you off guard. “She and I have a very complicated relationship but one that I cherish, nonetheless.”
  You waited for a few seconds for him to elaborate but once he remained silent for the same amount of time, it became clear he wasn’t going to answer further. 
  A part of you still wanted to know where Jung-Hee was today, and you were about to ask when he reached down to something on the shielded side of the counter, hidden from your view. 
  Bringing his hand up, you saw that he’d picked a singular purple rose. He twirled it in his hand for a bit, admiring its rare beauty, before making eye contact with you once again. Slowly, as though giving you the opportunity to step back should you wish, he raised the rose to your head and tucked it gently behind your ear.
   His hand lingered by your cheek for a second longer than it should’ve, especially considering the short amount of time you’d known him… but, you’d be lying if you said that closeness, even the faintest amount of it, wasn’t the best thing you’d experienced in a long, long time. 
  Appearing reluctant, he pulled back. “Goodbye, (Y/N). I hope I’ll see you again soon.” His voice was a whisper but carried the weight of a winter wind. 
  You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. If the slight twitching of his lips was anything to go by, he was well aware of the effect he had on you. 
  You met his eyes, the look he was giving you so tender it made saying this goodbye almost unbearable. “Goodbye, Yeosang.”
  After leaving the innermost circle of the shop, you felt like a weight was settling off of your lungs. You didn’t even recognise how difficult it had become to breathe there, nor had you recognize how unexplainably painful it was to depart from Yeosang only after knowing him for fifteen minutes.
    A rush of something euphoric had spread through you after he’d given you the flower, and coupled with the barest touch to your cheek your emotions had been sent tumbling. You stepped out of the shop and, for the first time in a long time, felt like there was something more to your life again. As though you’d found your purpose.
  Oh, how little you knew.
──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──
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mysticheathenn · 4 months
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What Are Your Obstacles in 2024?
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Pile l:
 What are your obstacles in 2024? (Tarot: Queen of Cups, 4 of Swords, 4 of Wands, 2 of Swords, 4 of Cups / Oracle Cards: Wellbeing, Talent)
“Work, work, work,  work, work, work” By Rihanna played in my head as I was shuffling your cards pile one. The obstacle you will face this year is learning how to rest and take better care of yourself. Some of you are so focused on your goals because you refuse to let another year go by where you are not at least in the same room as what you want to achieve or bring into your life but at what cost pile one. Take a moment and look around, smell the coffee or roses and celebrate your current wins while also going out once and a while and have fun. Don’t take life so seriously this year. You can still achieve your goals while taking better care of yourselves. It’s still January, you have all this year to hit the ground running at full speed and even if you don’t reach your goals this year there is still the next year and the next year and the next. Stop moving on society's timeline and go at the pace where your body, mind, and spirit are telling you. Burnout is definitely a real thing. This side message is for a very few of you but another obstacle you will have is making decisions, difficult ones at that. I didn’t ask on what because the main theme of pile one is to fill up your cup and everything will eventually fall into place. Trust that no matter your pace everything will work out and the universe (god, allah, etc) or those who care for you will step in and help you where you need it most. So go outside touch some grass, hang out with friends, binge a TV series, go to a spa, or whatever it is you do for fun and relax.
Things that could help ease your obstacles? (Oracle Card: Going Forward)
I’m being called to write the passage from the book of your oracle card: “When you receive this card, fertility, productivity, love, health, abundance, and fulfillment are ahead of you. Things are growing and expanding in your life. Keep going forward. Sometimes it may be easy to be distracted by what’s occurring around you but this card indicates that it is important to not let anything hold you back. Step up and know your needs will be taken care of.” – Sacred Destiny Oracle Deck
Keywords: 444, Wellbeing, Earth Signs, Work, Burnout, Faith, Rihanna, Keep Going
Pile ll:
What are your obstacles in 2024? (Tarot: The Awakening, 10 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, The High Priestess, 10 of Wands / Oracle Card: Passion, Strength)
Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys played in my head as I shuffled for your pile, pile 2. This year your obstacles will deal with self-doubt, not believing in yourself, and believing that nothing good ever happens to you. Some of you may feel this way because you’ve had so many months or even years of hardship and you can’t picture this year being any differently. Some of you have given up or even are close to giving up on your dreams and goals not knowing that you are close to the finish line, but overall the theme of this pile is to trust in yourself. Believe that good things can happen for you. Trust where your life is headed and have the strength to make 2024 your year instead of wishing something good will happen and not being proactive about your life. Go make this year your year. Don’t sit back and let life run you over, take it by the horns and make it your b!tch. Find your passions, make new friends or even better friends as some of you even deal with low self-esteem not wanting to cut off the very few “friends” you keep around you even though they put you down. You can’t expect life to magically get great if you don't give it your all or even be proactive about it for those who just keep wishing for life to get better. Life is not a movie or a show where everything magically happens you just have to believe and go make it happen.
Things that could help ease your obstacles? (Oracle Card: Courage, Taking Risks)
Not much to say as it is similar to what I was saying in the first half of the reading. Have the courage and take risks this year and make 2024 your year. If all you do is work, sleep, eat, and stay to yourself of course this isn’t going to be your year. Bet on yourself this year, bet on 2024 being the greatest year yet and it will. Say some affirmations, for a few of you this may help out. I’m mostly just hearing from your guides to find a passion and see where it takes you, you may be surprised where it may lead you.
Keywords: Isolation, lonely, Toy Story, Grand Central Park, Music, Adventure, Travel, New Job, New Friends, 1010, Video Games.
Pile lll:
What are your obstacles in 2024? (Tarot: 9 of Cups, 9 of Swords (reversed), Hanged Man, 8 of Swords (reversed), Queen of Pentacles (reversed), 7 of Pentacles, &  Ace of Pentacles (reversed). Oracle Cards: Beauty, Willpower, Home, Lighten Your Load)
Worrying is your biggest obstacle this year pile 3. Some of you are feeling desperate and want to move or have a change of scenery whether the scenery is moving to a new home, City, country, or even just a change in pace of lifestyle or people around you. You’re biggest fear is being stuck in the same place as everyone else around you. Maybe everyone around you fears success or failure and doesn’t want more than just a mediocre lifestyle and you’re worried that it will rub off on you when you want the best for yourself. There is also a mini-message for some of you to ease up on yourself, you’re doing the best you can with what you have. I feel some of you may probably pick apart your beauty and compare yourself to others and for some of you this is more financial stress. But the theme of this whole pile is fearing being stuck in one place and not getting what you’ve been chasing for so long to come into fruition. Unlike the first two piles which received songs during their shuffling, I felt nothing but anxious energy during this reading. Things will look up. Lighten up. Meditate.
Things that could help ease your obstacles? (Oracle Card: New Beginnings, Change,  Adventures)
This isn’t so much of what can ease your obstacles but more so of believing changes will happen and you have nothing to fear. A change of scenery is in the cards for you. IF not a change of scenery it’s a change of pace meaning if you live at home with your parents or you have a horrible neighbor the dynamic you have with them will change for the better. Some of your neighbors may move or your roommates, parents, etc may be less of a b!tch or overbearing. This change may also not be drastic for some but change but it will make your life feel a bit easier for you to deal with.
Keywords: Vision Board, Manifestation, Meditate, 555, 444, 1111, Apartment, Travel,
Thank you for making it to the end of this reading. I hope you enjoyed it and some things resonated.
Until next time be sure to check out my other readings on my page some small themes in one of the piles reminds me of a previous reading I did.
Stay Safe and Be Blessed 🙏🏾
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percheduphere · 5 months
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LET'S TALK ABOUT MOBIUS'S HEAVY KEYS
I wrote a meta on S1 Mobius here, mostly exploring his interrogation persona and emotional trajectory toward S1E6. I also have a fun little list on all the things I love about him here.
@mitromana posted about how we should talk about Mobius's sass and even cruelty more. @wowwwmobius posted how Mobius realistically would not be doing well post-S2E6 (I wholeheartedly agree), and they and @inwantofamuse shared amazing comments. All of this inspired this meta.
Thank you @mitromana @wowwwmobius @inwantofamuse!
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Mobius's interrogation scenes are him at his most cruel and ruthless. The flipside of being a highly empathetic person is that it is very VERY easy to use this skill in highly abusive, cunning, and powerful ways. This is especially true if the person armed with this skill is exceptionally intelligent and is convinced their motivations are good. At the TVA, before Loki's exposure of the truth, Mobius is both of these things. Worse, he has access to the TVA's more ethically unconscionable technology, which he does not hesitate to use.
The road to evil is paved with good intentions. Mobius strolls onto this road more than once, but he manages to not stay on it because two people curb this risk: Loki and, yes, Sylvie.
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Take in Loki's words and posture in this scene. The words alone are a frail and weak comeback for a silver-tongue God of lies. They do nothing but reveal Loki is in FACT scared. His arms are crossed tightly over his abdomen, a primal protective response. He's leaned as far away from Mobius as possible. This is the best Loki can come up with in the face of a boring man in a boring suit, really?
You can see why Mobius was moved into the position of Analyst from Hunter. He may not be able to prune children, but he can literally bring a God like Loki to the ground, breathless, confused, and frightened, with nothing more than WORDS. And this is with a variant Mobius likes. Imagine what he can do to a variant he hates.
For HWR and Ravonna's purposes, Mobius is the perfect weapon to get whatever they want out of whatever variant they capture before sending them off to get pruned. How do they keep him from questioning anything?
Memory-wiping (more than once), brainwashing, propaganda, and:
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A little something for Mobius's identity, something that fulfills his intrinsic need to take care of others while also gently stroking his ego.
Yes, the genocide of multiple timelines over the span of eons is horrifying. But Mobius is capable of being complicit with it as long as his environment feeds his intrinsic psychological and emotional needs. The people on the Sacred Timeline become his new children, and he will do anything ANYTHING to protect them.
There was one thing HWR and Ravonna didn't anticipate: that this man's empathy for a specific Loki would be the very thing that liberates the multiverse and his own bondage from a corrupt bureaucracy.
However...
I don't believe Mobius ever anticipated becoming emotionally compromised when he advocated on Loki's behalf. He likely genuinely believed that after centuries of studying Loki, he knew him well enough to make him useful for the TVA. But the subconscious, oh. That is a different story, and in Loki's own words, Mobius has a gift for lying to himself.
I discuss the interrogation scene and Sif loop scene in depth here, so I won't repeat myself, but I'd like to draw our attention to the 2 gifs below, framing my analysis:
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Imagine where Mobius's mind must be at:
I spent centuries studying you and believing in you. I waited more centuries for your nexus event to come. I tasked every hunter to inform me of your arrival immediately, no matter what I was doing, no matter where I was. I abandoned a case. I ran to your trial. I put my job, reputation, and eons-long friendship with Ravonna on the line. I tested your theory. I brought you with me on the field. You talked to me. You challenged me. You made me proud. You made me laugh.
I gave you daggers and you stabbed me. You STABBED me. When all I wanted to give you was--
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Mobius cracked hard and fast. Applaud Owen Wilson for THIS interpretation of the script and THIS delivery.
Thankfully, the very person who put Mobius in this fragile state of mind is also the person Mobius deeply wants to believe in. Even after being betrayed, Mobius still wants to believe in Loki and his capacity to be a wonderful person. And so he looks at Ravonna's TemPad, decides Loki deserves to be with whoever he wants to be with (even if that person will never be Mobius himself), frees Loki to help him save the woman he loves, and gets pruned for it.
Mobius survives thanks to plot-armor. And who is the first person he meets?
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The bane of his existence.
And Sylvie wastes no time driving a knife into a very fresh wound. Mobius, however, only recently unleashed all his rage. His reservoir for compartamentalizing has refreshed, so he can take Sylvie's truth bravely, without a flinch, and acknowledge that truth with one of his own.
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Mobius owns it. He doesn't deny it. He tacitly agrees with her and gives her a reason why.
We should remember how dangerous Mobius can be. He is currently sitting in a car with the variant he is most likely to hate. Sylvie is strong, clever, and resilient, but her ability to regulate her emotions is weak, especially if she is triggered. Mobius can destroy her very easily with his words.
But Mobius can't hate her. He can't. She was right and he was wrong, but most importantly Loki loves her.
He won't hurt the person Loki loves most. No. He will take her to him instead. He can stomach the pain, the disappointment. He's good at that. Loki's well-being, his happiness, comes first.
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In fact, Mobius stomachs Sylvie's knife twists a second time and chooses not to defend himself. I don't doubt a large part of him agrees with her. Nevertheless, he can't help but hope Loki might stand up for him in that moment. He tries, and fails, to make light of it by rolling his eyes and turning to his friend. When Loki leaves him not explaining why, his true feelings about this interaction surfaces on his face.
Aren't you going to say anything?
The saddest thing is that this is the LAST intimate moment THIS Mobius has with Loki before Loki crosses the gangway and never returns. This is it. This is what he's left with: the thought Loki didn't care enough to defend him and Loki leaving.
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HE doesn't get to hear that he's just trying to see in the dark and is doing everything he can to keep the surviving timelines alive. SYLVIE does.
HE doesn't get to hear Loki tell him he saved his life. DON does.
HE doesn't get the final goodbye and "thank you, Mobius", his PAST SELF does. And if Mobius happens to remember this moment in the present, he will know that he was the one who propelled Loki to bear this massive burden ALONE.
My worry for Mobius post-S2E6 is that he is more than talented at ignoring his own needs and addressing his own problems. He is infinitely better--a master, even--at taking care of anyone else. It's a devastating flaw, but it comes from a very raw place:
His heart, his soul, will always remember being a single parent.
Being a parent at all is hard to begin with. There are only so many hours in a day, and the majority of it is devoted to putting someone else's needs before your own. Being a single parent is even harder. You might have a few people to help you, but ultimately, there's no partner to share every high and low intimately. To be a single parent of not one but TWO children?
Game over.
Some viewers have interpreted Don ignoring his sons' phone calls at work as negligent. Honestly, I don't think that's the case. He will call them back. Don is Mobius and Mobius is Don. He will take care of them. But refusing every beck and call at work is the only personal boundary he has. He cannot have many boundaries for himself at home or anywhere else. He has to decline not one but two calls for his own sanity. Nevermind that he works Monday through Saturday, nine to five, to make enough money to keep them healthy and happy. Where is the break? There is none. This is Don's glorious purpose.
Mobius leaving the TVA is understandable for two crucial reasons: One, it is a reminder of all his horrifying acts and complicity. Two, it is a reminder Loki is no longer there. But by leaving the TVA, Mobius separates himself from his only support system. That's not good. That is decidely unhealthy. The fact that it doesn't cross B-15, Casey, or OB's minds that this is a very bad idea tells you everything you need to know about the number of genuinely close friends Mobius has.
Mobius has two. He walked away from one to be with the second, and the second walked away from him, too. TWICE.
But he still loves him anyway.
When you take a man like this and take away everything that's kept him functional: the TVA, Ravonna, Loki, and then show him a content life in which he cannot even be with his own children because another version of him already exists, what do you think will happen to him given we've seen how violently Mobius can snap?
And guess what: only one person has ever seen Mobius snap on more than one occasion. Only one person understands the triggers and how to handle them. I'll give you three guesses as to who it is.
Mobius "has a happy ending" is absolute bullshit. He is at risk.
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ellipsiseffervescent · 7 months
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I am once again going to talk too much about Rebellion
and how people don’t understand Homura. Here I would like to address the reasons why people call Homura evil/the antagonist, which is usually their reason for disliking Rebellion. My blog has basically morphed into an obsessive discussion on why that movie is my favorite and elevates the story, so I’ve covered a lot of these topics before, but I hope to make things more comprehensive here.
I’ve seen some people call Homura “corrupted” by the part of her that is a witch. Two thoughts on that:
Rebellion goes out of its way to show you that witches are not inherently evil. They have experienced serious pain and are spreading that pain before Madoka’s sacrifice. However, if this meant that witches were inherently evil, then why are Sayaka and Nagisa not? They are still witches- that’s why their witch forms are still a part of them.
Also, in Rebellion, Sayaka warns Madoka’s essence to not fear Homura, as “she’s the one who’s most hurt”.
I think that people misunderstand the theme of what a witch is overall. A witch is an inevitable reality of magical girls because being a girl in a patriarchal/Kyubey system is CRUSHING. The transformation into a witch is a coming-of-age step into womanhood. It comes from the culmination of mistreatments and systemic oppression girls inevitably become overwhelmed by. This isn’t to say that all women are forever overwhelmed, but it is an unpleasant reality that most women become awoken to. Think of the resolution of the Barbie movie, for instance, where (BARBIE SPOILERS) the characters need to “wake up” the others to the suffocating reality of living in a patriarchy. Same principle, honestly.
I also think that people sometimes interpret the Christian imagery in a stereotypical “good vs evil” way than looking at the situation, especially when it comes to Homura’s demon label and Madoka’s sacrifice.
I’ve talked about this a lot so I won’t go into too much detail, but I believe that the series is going out of its way to create its themes around the dark reality of the self-sacrificing nature of girls. For a brief recap:
Making wishes for someone else is considered taboo
Madoka mattered as a girl. Throughout all iterations of pmmm and its sequels, Madoka laments on the tragedy of magical girls vanishing from the world without anyone knowing and says in Rebellion that she would never want to go anywhere where she couldn’t be around her friends and family. Her mom had plans for them when Madoka grew up, her brother remembers her, and it drives Homura insane that she’s the only person who remembers the other timeline. Madoka was always worried that she wasn’t good enough at anything to have a place in the world and I truly have a hard time believing that this series is saying that young girls who don’t feel they have value anywhere else are best served to sacrifice themselves into oblivion. That’s basically been the history of women, forever.
Homura calls herself a demon because, “[Madoka] was sacred as a god and I couldn’t help but pull her from heaven and undermine her.” Throughout the Wraith Cycle, Homura commits herself to honoring Madoka’s sacrifice and new world order, so the phrase “and I couldn’t help but pull her from heaven undermine her” is, I think, more of a reflection of her self-loathing for going against Madoka’s wish and less of a true admission of evil, because I don’t think that Madoka’s erasure from the world was ever an okay thing. I think people get too hung up on “demon-bad” without thinking of the nuances of the imagery. I don’t believe that Madoka’s godhood is inherently good, and I don’t believe Homura’s demonhood is inherently bad. I think that Madoka’s godhood is more an alignment with self-sacrifice, and Homura’s demonhood is an alignment with desire, and I think that too much of either is a bad thing. It’s why they both needed to come together to eviscerate the Kyubeys.
I think that the label of “demon” makes Homura irredeemable to people and I think that people are deeply unforgiving of the not so pretty things that make us human. I’ve seen that a lot of what I assume are younger users are completely unforgiving to girl characters who go through things and make mistakes. I’m not even talking about Azula defenders (though I think there is a nuanced conversation there) but the Catra-type haters. As others have pointed out, ya’ll about women’s wrongs until a girl suffers a time loop to try to save the love of her life (who, lest we forget, begs Homura to shoot her in one timeline) and her friends and almost loses her mind by being the only person to remember the love of her life in the timeline that ya’ll think was the good one. I even hesitate to call it “toxic yuri” until the last movie comes out. Now, this isn’t to say that Homura has made no mistakes. I think the fact that her rewriting of the world to include the Kyubeys is going to be a BIG mistake on her part, and she did pull the identity of Madoka away from the Law of the Cycle against her wishes. But I think that to take everything Homura has done to try to save Madoka and even give Madoka the power to become the Law of the Cycle and say that she is irredeemable or toxic because she is traumatized…. It’s heartbreaking to me.
Moreover, this perception of Homura as irredeemable flies in the face of all this Christian imagery. Throughout the entirety of Rebellion’s ending (and as you’ll see further down) Madoka assures Homura that she loves her no matter what, that she is always there for her. Madoka in her fullness can see in intimate detail what Homura endured for her- literal YEARS of suffering yet never giving up- do you really think Goddess Madoka can’t and shouldn’t forgive Homura? Are the “good” guys in Christianity not all about forgiveness?
And finally, the real reason I made this long ass post: Homura and Rue from Princess Tutu are parallels. For those who don’t know: in Princess Tutu, the character Rue transforms into an “evil” persona- Princess Kraehe, daughter of the Crow. While Rue is convinced that she is now an agent of evil, the main character Ahiru/Duck insists that she is not. Also important to note is Rue may not rewrite the universe, but objectively commits more women’s wrongs than Homura. She rips the shards of emotion from her lover’s breast and tries to sacrifice innocent people’s hearts to her father, but the story does not paint her as condemned or irredeemable. She’s been lied to, groomed, and traumatized. She’s not an evil person, she’s a girl trying to navigate horrible circumstances, like Homura. Rebellion creates these parallels because Homura is forgivable and it wants you to know that.
So anyway, first parallel is the outfit. Demon Homura is SOOOOO inspired by Kraehe it HURTS:
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And finally, Rebellion went so hard to reference this scene:
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PLEASE put on sound they translate it differently but here she says "homura chan is homura chan"
so yeah if you stuck around thanks! love u muah
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Something about the fact that the Loki writers have confirmed multiple times that his variants all look so different because of their inherit chaotic nature.
Something about the fact that it says in the show that the universe wants to be free so it manifests chaos in the form of Lokis.
Something about the fact that Loki is the TVA’s most common variant because every version of them refuses to adhere to their ‘destiny’.
Something about the fact that there was a scene in the show where Ravonna said “this is about order & chaos. I’m order-“ and then a loki variant violently burst in, implying “I’m chaos.”
Something about the fact that the entire story arc of the Loki series was about him choosing to free the sacred timeline & embrace all the anarchy & endless possibilities- positive & negative- that came with it instead of continuing to enforce the absolute order that would keep them all safe.
Something about Loki literally sacrificing himself so chaos could reign.
Something about the fact that Loki tried for years to beat He Who Remains through playing by his rules, and was only able to do it when he came up with a solution so insane that HWR didn’t anticipate it.
Something about the fact that messing with people’s minds & using tricky and unorthodox means of fighting has always been Loki’s Thing.
Something about the fact that at least one loki variant has the natural ability to rewrite the laws of time, space, and reality.
Something about the fact that Loki is literally the god of chaos- in the series, in the comics, and in Norse mythology.
And also..
Something about the fact that all of Wanda’s variants look and act exactly the same.
Something about the fact that the TVA never mentioned Wanda whatsoever despite her being a Reality Breaking Cosmic Anomaly.
Something about the fact that Wanda fans thought her reading the Darkhold caused the multiverse to open but Kevin Feige confirmed it was Sylvie killing He Who Remains that opened the multiverse, and in turn allowed Wanda to hear her kids through the Darkhold.
Something about the fact that Wanda almost always uses her ‘chaos magic’ to control people/events & bend reality to her will, which directly contradicts the meaning of chaos.
Something about the fact that Wanda has never once had any sort of symbolic arc or subplot or character dive directly linking her to chaos as a concept.
Something about the fact that the only thing about Wanda you could consider overtly chaotic is her propensity to go on destructive rampages when she doesn’t get her way.
And finally..
Something about the fact that, in the mcu, Wanda is constantly awarded with the chaos moniker- they decided to keep the ‘chaos magic’ name from the comics, fans call her the queen of chaos, and she gets credited as the token reality breaker pretty much constantly… while they’ve never even acknowledged on-screen that Loki’s the literal God of Chaos.
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sheliesshattered · 6 months
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I've seen some posts going around expressing frustration with Loki not telling Sylvie how he feels, at least as of the third episode of season two. And I'm not saying you're wrong, but like, can we just take a minute to think about this from Loki's point of view?
When they fought in the citadel at the end of time, the last thing Loki said to Sylvie was that he just wants her to be okay. Nothing else -- not power, not a crown, not the ability to rewrite time to his desires. He just wants Sylvie to be okay.
And in response, she kissed him. For those of us who ship them, obviously that was The Moment, and it probably felt like it to Loki, too. But then Sylvie immediately pushes him through a time door and kills He Who Remains, exactly what Loki was trying to keep her from doing.
We don't really know how Sylvie feels about Loki, but from Loki's point of view? That wasn't a kiss because she has feelings for him too, or even to acknowledge his feelings for her. That kiss was a trick, just as much as Loki creating a double or Sylvie enchanting someone. She used it to get him out of the way, because she realized she couldn't kill him and she couldn't convince him. So she kissed him to distract him long enough to get rid of him.
Loki has to have realized that pretty immediately. His face after she pushes him through the time door certainly looks like he knows exactly what Sylvie just did, and why. He tells her he just wants her to be okay, and she betrays him with a kiss. He looks appropriately heartbroken.
He then spends the first two episodes of season two trying to find Sylvie. Not just because the TVA is falling apart, but because he still wants to make sure that she's okay. She killed He Who Remains, she completed the one goal she'd had for so long, and Loki knows she would have been alone at the end of time after killing He Who Remains. Even before the TVA crises start piling up, he wants to find Sylvie, just because he needs to know that she's okay.
We as the audience get to see how desperate Loki is to find Sylvie, and it's obvious to everyone at the TVA, even Brad who has been off on his own on the sacred timeline for however long.
But when they finally find Sylvie, she really doesn't seem happy to see Loki. Her face falls, her posture is distinctly cold and defensive. When they talk, she tells him that she just wants to be left alone. She tells him that she's happy living there in that branched timeline, that she just wants to stay there, alone.
And once Sylvie makes that clear to Loki, he backs off. His feelings for her haven't changed -- but from his point of view, she's just reinforced that the kiss didn't mean anything to her. Because he loves her, Loki just wants Sylvie to be okay. And she makes it clear that she is okay, living a quiet life of her choosing.
Personally, I read Loki's behavior in the most recent two episodes as him intentionally respecting Sylvie and her wishes. All he wants is for her to be okay. All she wants is to be left alone to live the life of her choosing. He loves her, so how could he do anything other than give her what she wants?
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psych0m3try · 3 months
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there’s bi intellectuals (me)
and then there’s straight people (that one person in a tiktok comment section who said that the Loki ending was weird and made no sense so i then had to explain in a 2-part reply that mobius’ comment “let time pass” is meant to indicate the fact that HIS “glorious purpose” used to be maintaining the sacred timeline for the TVA, but now he can live out his secret underlying dream to simply exist without the burden of a purpose (hence the quote “purpose is more burden than glory”) and how in DIRECT contrast to mobius, loki (who has always longed for a glorious purpose) also gets what he wants as he now has arguably the most glorious purpose of them all)
warning: if you encounter a bi intellectual, said bi intellectual may or may not inform you that the reason the audience visits s1 e1 with loki in the finale is because at that time, mobius wanted to be free of the burden of purpose and loki wanted nothing more than to have some glorious spot in the universe, but by s2 e6 neither want those things anymore because of the influence that they have had on one another, but end up getting them anyway in one of the most complex tragedies between two people ever
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loki-cees-all · 3 months
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Ch. 4 - Hope Against Hope {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}
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Previous Chapter / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter
Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader
Summary : After you and Loki do the deed, Loki does a little soul-searching.
W/c : 4.7k words
Content / Warnings : Smut (p-in-v), angst (knife-in-heart), mentions of a future addiction for the reader (nothing specific is mentioned, and no actual use of illicit substances ever takes place), and Loki rifling through all of your stuff. It's fine, though! He has a good reason!
Author's Note : Apologies this is so late! It really, really got away from me, and I was absolutely struggling to get it done. But, it turns out I was just trying to do too much in one chapter, so once I cut it off at what was the halfway point, it became much more manageable. (Major shoutout to @infinitystoner for helping me with that. I love you!) Anyway, happy reading!
18+ Only - Minors DNI
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⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
Date : June 26th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]
Throughout his thousand years of existence, Loki had witnessed a great deal of beautiful things. The golden shine of the palace he’d grown up in was the first; its light reflected brighter than the birth of a newborn star, shining down with a brilliance unrivaled to anything short of divine intervention. 
Every morning, he’d awake in awe of its splendor, and every night, when he laid his head upon his pillow, he’d wonder if anyone else ever noticed the terrible irony of such a gorgeous place containing the harshest of people. 
The exquisite gardens of Asgard had always been his favorite place to be. Carefully tended to and guided by his mother’s loving hand, they contained every species of flower from each of the Nine Realms - meticulously organized by the shade of their petals, and perpetually in bloom thanks to her seidr. 
It was the perfect place for reflection; he had spent many late nights in those gardens, wandering up and down the rows, taking in the sweet aroma of the flowers and pondering his lot in life. And during the worst of Thanos’ many tortures, he’d often imagine he was back there inside Frigga’s gardens - shielded and protected, and lost in majesty instead of in pain. 
And the stunning destruction of the Bifrost would haunt him for the rest of his days. The explosion’s light caught the shards of the Rainbow Bridge and almost blinded him, illuminating nothing but his many failures in the most glorious of ways as he fell into its wake. The Bifrost had faded into golden dust, and clouds of sapphire and ultramarine had swirled together beneath him, and it was so magnificent that he almost forgot about the look of sheer disappointment upon his father’s face. 
But none of those things, not a single one of them, could ever compare to the sight of you coming undone beneath his devoted tongue. 
Loki continued working, his mouth and eyes eagerly taking in the evidence of your pleasure. His hands gripped your waist tight, as if to squeeze out every ounce of it that he could, while his lips and tongue lavished your clit. He’d never tasted something so divine, and he never wanted your pleasure to end. 
You cried out his name like the holiest of prayers, and Loki moaned its accompaniment. He could almost see the light radiating off your skin as your back arched off the bed, and the blood in his veins surged with want as your thighs trembled against his ears. He desperately needed more, to keep you sated and satisfied in euphoria for as long as he could - but he also needed to be careful. 
Because as far as you knew, Loki was just another simple mortal - one that had a job, and a family, and paid taxes. A human man, one that played rugby on the weekends, someone who was going to die in about forty years - when he was actually the furthest from anything that even resembledbanality. 
Ordinarily, in situations like this, Loki’s seidr would be on full display - to set the mood by lighting the fire in the hearth and the candles on the nightstand. To keep the wine flowing in their glasses, and the sheets warm against your bare skin. To remove his clothing in a flash of green light, just so he could bury himself inside you the exact second he wanted to. 
And Gods, how he helplessly wanted to be inside you again. 
Loki hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since the night in the alleyway. It had been feral and hurried, dangerous and reckless, to take you against that wall and in public, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t the best he’d ever had. And it was so foolish of himself to think he could get by with only having you once, and so incredibly selfish to take you again while knowing what he knew about your future…
But even still, Loki’s cock ached underneath his trousers, throbbing in sync with every single beat of his heart. Desire coursed violently throughout his veins, mixing with both heat and adrenaline as he continued ravishing between your legs. He could feel you clenching rhythmically, your fingers tangling in his hair and your hips grinding upwards, and he could never deny you what you wanted. 
You were just past the height of ecstasy when Loki began to crawl up your body, following behind his lips as they worshiped your skin. He kissed his way up your belly, gazing up at your ethereal expression as your head lolled back and forth on the pillow. Aftershocks washed over you, one by one, and your lips parted with desperate breath and pleasured murmurs. It was beautiful, and perfect, and of nothing but sheer divinity. 
Loki kept his gaze locked on your face as he slowly kissed along your ribs, and your feet flexed, pressing into his hips as yours continued writhing. Your fingers curled tighter around his hair, a silent plea to urge him on, and he couldn’t believe that even after all of this, even while completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, you still wanted more of him. 
His initial plan had been to take you as slowly as possible - to savor, and to idolize you. He’d never been wanted like this before, and he didn’t know if this would be the last time he’d get to experience it. A lifetime of neglect had taught him affection was ever fleeting, and he should always relish it whenever it came. What little patience he had was quickly disappearing by the second, soon to be nothing but a distant memory of the time before he was whole again. 
Your eyes stayed closed as his name tumbled from your lips, and Loki knew this was the moment. He kept one hand clutched tight around your hip, and brought the other down to his belt, unbuckling it just enough to make a sound before his seidr dissolved the remaining clothing from his body and transported them to the floor, as if they’d been tossed aside in a hurry. 
He moved upwards again, and when he reached your nipple and pulled it into his mouth, you whimpered in pleasure and dragged your nails across his scalp. A deep groan rumbled in his throat and he began to suck harder, flicking his tongue wildly against the stiffening peak. This time you let out a sharp gasp, and your feet planted on the mattress to arch your back even more and press your hips against something, anything, of his. 
Loki graciously slid his thigh up to soothe the ache between your quivering legs, and you eagerly locked on to it, grinding your swollen clit against his taut muscles. You had been more than wet when he had gone down on you before, but now you were positively drenched with arousal, and Loki loved that about you. He’d never been so hard in his life, precum dripping onto your belly from the head of his glistening cock as the musk of sex filled the room. 
Your head tilted back into the pillow and your thighs trembled violently, supported only by your tiptoes and your upper back as another orgasm ripped through you. Loki cupped your other breast, his thumb circling its nipple as he sucked even harder on the first, trying desperately to hold back his own ecstasy until he was buried deep inside you. 
But that battle was becoming more and more difficult to win, and his equanimity was dissipating with each and every one of your breathless moans and whimpers. Loki moved his hands to carefully guide your feet flat, and then massaged your calves and thighs into relaxing as he carefully pulled his lips away from your nipple. 
As he moved closer, your hands shifted to cling to his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Anything you could read, everything about him that was solid and real. He wanted so badly to assure you that he was, to shout it from the rooftops that he wasn’t just real, that he was - in fact - yours, and that was the only real thing that mattered. 
Loki’s lips were on your collarbone when he finally coaxed your legs into position, relaxed but open for him. You were making unintelligible noises and your body continued trembling, but your hips kept rolling as he slowly settled his weight onto you and pressed his hips against yours. 
“Loki…oh my, God, Loki…” you gasped breathlessly, sliding your hands up along his neck to his hair, to tangle in the mess of matted and sweaty curls against his scalp. 
His breath shuddered as he gazed upon you, eyelids fluttering open and shut, and pupils dilated so wide to take him all in. His lips hovered just a touch above yours, inhaling as you exhaled, leaning in as you pulled him closer. He wasn’t running or cowering away, there was no fleeing or escaping. For the first time since the Tesseract had slid to his feet in the lobby of Stark Tower, Loki was exactly where he wanted to be. 
“Yes, my darling…I’m here, just breathe…” he whispered, dragging his nose along the edge of yours. His voice shifted into a groan as you wrapped your legs around his waist; the soft skin of your thighs burned against him, branding a reminder into his flesh that this was where he belonged, and the soaked heat between your legs beckoned him back home. 
The two of you were as naked as the day you were born - one born on Earth, and one born on Jotunheim. Dark green and satin sheets lay beneath you, twisted and tangled upon your bed. The air inside your room was almost overwhelming, a delicious mixture of heat and musk, and despite the very early morning hour, the city of London still bustled just outside your window, cruelly unaware of the magic that was about to happen above them. 
Your lips met again, and even though the kiss was just as hungry as that night in the alleyway, there was something else now with it - a touch of familiarity, of knowing and acceptance even though it couldn’t really be - not with all the lies he’d been telling, and the truth he’d been withholding. Loki kissed you harder, trying to push those thoughts out of his brain, and you happily reciprocated. 
As you introduced your tongue to the kiss, Loki cupped the back of your skull with one hand, and brought the other between your hips as he began to rock against you, dragging himself against your entrance and teasing you both into oblivion. Neither of you needed any further teasing, but he did it anyway, just to add the final touch of urgency. You whimpered and opened your hips even further, and on the next push, he was inside you again. 
Suddenly, everything made perfect sense as the entire universe opened up before him. Loki let out the hoarsest of groans as he pushed deeper, and your lower back arched even more beneath him. Your fingers curled even tighter around his hair, your lips fell from his to moan his name again, and you were so wet and warm and safe that he felt like nothing could ever hurt him again. 
All he ever wanted was to feel like this, and he slowly pulled himself out, just short of all the way, before sinking himself back inside. Your hips writhed uncontrollably as he did that a few more times, and Loki realized that you also needed the reminder that even if he pulled away or left completely, he would always come back to you. That he would never not be thinking of you, or of this. 
Loki was already ruined before he began thrusting even faster, and there was absolutely nothing that could have ever stopped him. He buried his face against your neck and arched his back more harshly, pulling all the way out before pumping back inside. Your muscles squeezed around him, and your voice was nothing but breathless and incoherent gasps and moans as you took him in over and over again. 
He snaked one arm around your back and the other around your waist as he moved faster, grunting and groaning against your skin as your fingertips scratched at his scalp. His muscles tensed as yours did, and he could tell by the sound of your voice that you were getting close already. His own orgasm was just seconds away, coiling around in his belly, stretching and yearning to break free as he drove himself harder, faster, deeper. 
The tension broke simultaneously, and you cried out together, curling tightly around each other’s bodies, clinging for dear life as you came together. Endorphins and hormones coursed through Loki’s veins as the universe came into being, with stars exploding and dust swirling to form the galaxies and planets and realms that could stretch longer and further than anyone would ever know. 
You clung so tightly to him during it all, as if you could see what he saw, but somehow he was the only thing that mattered. How could that be, that while an entire universe was being born, that the goddess of a mortal underneath could only look up at him? 
Loki didn’t understand it one bit, but he didn’t need to, because all he could feel and see and smell was you. His hips continued rocking, shallower now that he was absolutely spent, and his sighs were heavy in the crook of your neck. He was in total and complete bliss when you let out a choked sob against his ear, and it instantly brought him back to reality. 
“Darling…darling, what’s wrong?” he murmured, kissing your neck and squeezing you tighter. Had he done something wrong? Had he unintentionally hurt you in some way while lost in his own pleasure? 
He could feel you shake your head, even as another sob escaped you. He could feel the tears streaming down your face and coating his own cheek, but your limbs still wrapped harder around him. Slowly, Loki lifted his head even though he was terrified of what he might see upon your face. His heavy eyelids fluttered open, his blurred vision effortlessly obscuring the tangled limbs and sweaty skin you both shared. 
But when your face finally came into view, there was a smile beneath the tears on your cheeks. Your messy hair framed your face like an untidy halo - disconnected from, but still beautiful and fitting for the angel who wore it. Loki would never forget that smile and its tears, so happy and yet so sad all at the same time. 
“I don’t know why, Loki…but I’ll be fine, I promise…” you answered in a voice that was so floating and breathless and light.
He could tell you meant it, and it should have reassured him, but it didn’t. The image of that newspaper from 1983 suddenly flashed before his eyes, and Loki remembered the initial reason he had come home with you last night. 
⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
Date : June 27th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]
Loki wasn’t exactly sure what he was searching for, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. 
The sun was just beginning to encroach over the horizon, sending its rays over the city and into the bay windows of your high-rise flat. He padded cautiously into your living room, thankful for the plush white carpets between his toes to mute his exhausted steps. 
There was nothing he wanted more than to slip back into bed with you and sleep the day away, but he had to take this opportunity while he still had the chance. 
Loki could still see you, sleeping soundly in the arms of the duplicate he’d casted so as to not rouse any suspicion while he snooped. It felt so wrong to be doing this now, so soon after the night you’d just shared together, but the guilt of your future was driving him forward, egging him on and eating him away so badly he wouldn’t be able to have another decent rest even if he tried. 
And it was odd, feeling jealous of something he’d conjured to keep you distracted, and in bed. It was, technically-speaking, him…but it wasn’t him- and he was the one who desperately needed the rest. Loki hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since well before Thanos’ capture, since he had lived in the palace on Asgard, and he had no idea when he’d be able to have it again…
Nevertheless, Loki shook his head and rolled it back and forth between his shoulders. His joints popped and cracked as he stretched his arms up over head, extending and pulling and desperately willing his limbs to fully awaken for the task at hand. He opened his eyes wider to take in more light, and he filled his lungs with as much oxygen as he could muster, held it for as long as he could, and released it slowly through his nose. 
If anyone else could see him, they’d say he was stalling. Deception ordinarily came easy to him - Odin had taken advantage of that many times - but this was different; in fact, this was much, much worse. And he knew he wasn’t going to like what he found, but it needed to be seen anyway. He had to know if he was the cause of your future addiction, or if had already started before you’d even met. 
Loki began his search in the kitchen, opening up the cupboards and pantries, quietly sliding items aside so he could see any possible illicit substances hidden in the back. He checked on top of the refrigerator and deep inside the freezer for excessive quantities of alcohol. He even looked through the drawers of silverware and utensils, the mail on top of the counter, the pockets of your coats hung by the front door for something, anything, that hinted at your painful future. 
But he found nothing, just like he was afraid of. And it wasn’t because he wanted you to have an addiction, to be suffering silently and hiding your pain away from the world - he didn’t want that to happen to you at all, ever. But the more he searched, the more it became apparent that he would be the eventual cause of it. 
And if he did manage to find something, he could offer you the help you needed. He could take care of you, instead of hurting you. He could be of use for something good, instead of the destruction he normally was. 
From the kitchen, he returned to the living room, shoving his hands between the couch cushions and underneath the sofas. He flipped through the magazines stacked on the coffee table, and pulled the books off the bookshelves. All the while, trying so hard not to think about how he was going to eventually make addiction a reality for you. 
Loki could tell you were eager to learn more about him, to know him more than just as a man who kept you company at night, and it was getting harder to dodge your questions. He knew you would have more when you awoke, and it wasn’t that you didn’t deserve to hear the answers, because of course you did. You deserved everything happy and safe and beautiful there could ever be, and Loki truly wanted to be the one to give all of that to you. 
But Loki didn’t know what to tell you, because that had never been the truth of his reality. So what was he supposed to tell you? That he was the monster that parents told their children about at night? 
That he’s an alien being from another realm, who could travel through time and space? That there were different versions of every single person living within multiple universes, and that in 35 years his past self would try to lead an alien army to violently take over New York City? 
At best, you wouldn’t believe him at all, and at worse, you’d absolutely hate him for it…even if doing that is exactly what brought him to you in the first place. 
After the last book was slid back into place, Loki sighed and turned his attention to the living room as a whole. Everything was clean and organized, everything had a specific place to be and was already there, and absolutely nothing was amiss. Nothing and everything was wrong, all at the same time, and the realization almost brought him to his knees. 
Loki was going to ruin your life eventually; the only question now was how he was going to do it, and when he was going to hammer that final nail inside your coffin. Was it going to be as soon as you woke up? Was it going to be because he finally told you the truth? 
His fingers pressed into his eye sockets as he collapsed onto the sofa, rubbing away furiously as he pondered his options. Truthfully speaking, how much time did you two have left together? The Loom was still on the verge of total destruction back at the TVA; his friends were back there right now, working tirelessly on a solution while he selfishly snuck away to see you again. To coddle his own emotions and guilt, when none of that would matter if they were unable to save the timelines at all. 
And what was he supposed to do if they managed to prevent the Loom’s destruction? Keep sneaking away to come see you like a long-distance lover? Make up a pretend job for himself, never tell you the truth, and force you to perpetually linger in the liminal space between his crafted persona and who he actually was? 
Not even he could keep a lie that massive forever. You would eventually discover the truth, or perhaps you would realize that there even was a truth different from the one he was selling you. Maybe what the truth was actually didn’t matter; maybe what mattered was that you couldn’t keep living a lie, and that was all it took to break you. 
Loki leaned forward on the sofa, his elbows digging into his knees while dragging his fingertips down his cheeks and over his mouth. His palms pressed together in a silent prayer as his eyes roamed over the room. His eyes filled with tears as he realized this would have to be the last time he ever looked upon it. He would have to leave you, before either of you fell too hard - and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to save you more than it would destroy him. 
His expression was solemn as he stood back up from the sofa. He hoped he’d been overthinking your expression in the alleyway a week ago, in the club the night before, in your bed as you’d come together. His heart broke as he prayed that you didn’t actually care about him as much as he already cared about you, that this would actually be easy for you. That you still had the strength to pick up the pieces and carry on with your life. 
As Loki turned to leave the living room, to start the long journey back to your bedroom and kiss you goodbye, his eyes caught the painting above your dining room table. His frown shifted into a smile, although his eyes were as distraught and disillusioned as ever. He stepped closer and pressed his fingertips across the frame, thinking about all the stories this single painting told. 
You were so unbelievably talented; every brush stroke had been as carefully placed as the belongings inside your flat. How he wished he could see this tree that you loved so much, and how he longed to feel the same kind of permanent comfort that it seemed to bring you even now. He’d never felt such everlasting solace in his entire life, and he’d even happily settle for being able to provide that kind of love for you some day. 
But it just wasn’t meant to be. And for now, all Loki could hope for was that your father or your friends could help you still move on. 
He reluctantly pulled away and returned down the hallway, training his eyes straight ahead to avoid the beautiful and happy photographs plastered all over the walls. He tried desperately not to look at the candelabrum on the narrow bookshelf. But of course, the morning light caught it, reflecting off the polished brass and right into his anguished gaze. 
Loki couldn’t help but pause in front of it, right outside the doorway to your bedroom. He could hear you breathing in your bed, slowly and peacefully, in the arms of his duplicate. You were so close, and yet so far, because he couldn’t tear himself away from the hall and its haunted reminder of his past life. 
He’d seen that candelabrum before, but he didn’t know how it had found its way here. Surely, it had to be a coincidence, right? That the asymmetrically curved pieces swung upright to form the horns of the golden headpiece he used to wear before the TVA had taken him away? 
Devil’s horns, the enemies of Asgard used to call them. The Dökkláfar of Alfheim had considered them omens of death, but it wasn’t in the same way they had feared Odin’s power, or his brother’s hammer. Those items could always be seen before striking down their enemies; their power was out in the open, demanding to be witnessed, and punishing for their disobedience to the throne. 
But by the time an enemy ever saw Loki’s horns, it was already too late. The damage was already done, secretly in the shadows and hidden upon layers and layers of deceptions and lies. His enemies were already dead by the time Loki finally revealed himself and his Devil’s horns, and their last few seconds were usually spent wondering which trick it was that struck the final blow. 
So what were they doing here, in this young woman’s flat? In London, in 1977, where he’d never been before and surely would never return to again? Surely there was no way you knew what they actually represented. No, it had to just be an unhappy coincidence. 
Back on Asgard, Loki had been repeatedly regulated to operating within the shadows. In his younger years, he had believed it was simply because that was where he excelled. But then he knew better; he knew that Odin had kept him in the shadows intentionally, that he was fit to exist in the light. And now, he was being forced to recede into the shadows yet again, to be nothing but a hopefully wistful and fond memory of yours. 
He had only just found you. He had only just come to know the caring touch of peace, and already he was having to give it back up. 
Another tear rolled down Loki’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. He let out a sharp breath, steeled his jaw, and stepped back inside your bedroom, not at all ready to do the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. 
⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
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pansear-doodles · 1 year
Text
RW Shipping Name Masterlist
F2U Shipping Emotes Shipping Emote Discord Server Invite Scug Shipping Tierlist maker
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Considering the influence I have over the fandom, I will be using this position to create concrete naming proposals for RW Ships.
If there are any suggestions/reworks in mind, please reply to this post! Not all ships will be included but they can be added later by request (and I will intentionally not include problematic/weird ones). On the polyamory side of things, there are so many variations, so I'll just be grabbing some I've seen. (Feel free to suggest any too)
They MIGHT be ordered by popularity/frequency based on my observations (I watch the rain world hashtags on both twitter and tumblr like a hawk; and I also check the fanart discord channels). This isn't me saying that your favorite ship isn't popular or bad.
Ship names are best determined by how well it reads, if it rolls the tongue good enough and how frequent the community uses it. (Alternatively, there can be unique ship codes/descriptors if decided majority by the community)
This list isn't perfect of course, which is why I encourage people to contribute to it! It will be periodically updated.
Please be respectful to each other and be open-minded, especially considering that each of us have widely different portrayals of the characters. The RW Artist community is the most respectful shipping space I ever been on, and I want to keep it that way!
If shipping is not your taste, good for you! Let's respect each others' ideas of how we portray the characters in general.
Let us assume they are all adults in similar age ranges and nonrelated (until proven otherwise by canon) in this case please. For iterators, we will assume all are nonrelated (except Moon and Pebbles as they are heavily coded to be siblings). All shippers ignore the timeline canon the game gives generally.
Plain text means its not yet decided or used by one person Italicized text means its being decided or used by few people Bold text means its fully decided or considered by the majority (supported by dedicated hashtags if ever)
SEMI-OUTDATED (doesn't contains all the ship codes so please reply to this post with suggestions)
Contains Downpour spoilers
ARTIFICER SHIPS
Artificer x Hunter - Artihunter/Girls Who Kill/Cherry Bomb/Violent Lesbians/Red Velvet/War Criminals
Artificer x Saint - Artisaint/Death Pop/Argument/Pegasus
Artificer x Gourmand - Artimand/Gourificer/Popcorn/Barbecue/Gore-Bomb/Strawberries n’ Cream/Parentshipping/The Moms
Artificer x Spearmaster - Spearficer/Boomstick/Hotshot/Firecracker/Sparkler/Death Notice
Artificer x Rivulet - Rivuficer/Artilet/Fireboy and Watergirl/Missile/Bathbomb/Rarefacton Cell/Toasterbath
Artificer x Survivor - Survficer/Redvelvet
Artificer x Monk - Artimonk/Sunnysideup
Artificer x Enot - Enotficer/Paprika/La Bomba/Pipe Bomb
GOURMAND SHIPS
Gourmand x Artificer - Artimand/Gourificer/Popcorn/Barbecue/Gore-Bomb/Strawberries n’ Cream/Parentshipping/The Moms
Gourmand x Spearmaster - Spearmand/Kebab/Pin Cushion/Fruit Ninja
Gourmand x Hunter - Gourunter/Huntmand/Honeyham/Cherry Pie/Baby Back Ribs
Gourmand x Saint - Saintmand/Goursaint/Fluffball/Wooly Mammoth/Mintcaramel/Sacred Feast/Shamrock Shake/Ice Cream/Furball/Big Bush/Fat Blunt/Apple Pie
Gourmand x Rivulet - Rivumand/Gourmet/Fastfood/Seafood/Pufferfish/Fish and Chips/Bullfrog
Gourmand x Survivor - Survmand/Gourvivor/Marshmallow/Snowball
Gourmand x Enot - Enotmand/Gournot/Bathbomb/Scrambledeggs/Suspiciousstew/Black Licorice
Gourmand x Monk - Gourmonk/Cheesewheel/Big Cheese
Gourmand x Nightcat - Nightmand/Full Moon
RIVULET SHIPS
Rivulet x Spearmaster - Spearvulet/Fishstick/Swordfish/Speedpaint/Narwhal
Rivulet x Hunter - Rivhunter/Cotton candy/Fisher/Piranha
Rivulet x Artificer - Rivuficer/Artilet/Fireboy and Watergirl/Missile/Bathbomb/Rarefacton Cell/Toasterbath
Rivulet x Saint - Rivusaint/Speedscugs/Floofish/Fluffy Axolotl/Marine Snow/Waterdancers/Bubblefruit/Seaweed/Holy Water
Rivulet x Gourmand - Rivumand/Gourmet/Fastfood/Seafood/Pufferfish/Fish and Chips/Bullfrog
Rivulet x Survivor - Survulet/Tapwater
Rivulet x Enot - Rivunot/Speedrun/Ploink/ADHD/Explosion :3
Rivulet x Monk - Rivmonk/Monkvulet/Lemonshark/Banana Boat
Rivulet x Nightcat - Nightvulet/Deep Sea/Lanternfish
SPEARMASTER SHIPS
Spearmaster x Rivulet - Spearvulet/Fishstick/Swordfish/Speedpaint/Narwhal
Spearmaster x Saint - Spearsaint/Saintmaster/Spearmint/Icicles/Holy Stick/Thornbush
Spearmaster x Gourmand - Spearmand/Kebab/Pin Cushion/Fruit Ninja
Spearmaster x Artificer - Spearficer/Boomstick/Hotshot/Firecracker/Sparkler/Death Notice
Spearmaster x Hunter - Spearhunter/Huntmaster/Love Message/Thorn Bush/Grape Fruit/Grape Juice/Broadcats
Spearmaster x Survivor - Spearvivor/The Fighters/Glowstick
Spearmaster x Enot - Spearnot/Lagspike
Spearmaster x Monk - Spearmonk/Cheesestick
Spearmaster x Nightcat - Spearnight/Nightspear/Shadow Force/Vampire Bat
SAINT SHIPS
Saint x Artificer - Artisaint/Death Pop/Argument/Pegasus
Saint x Spearmaster - Spearsaint/Saintmaster/Spearmint/Icicles/Holy Stick/Thornbush
Saint x Gourmand - Saintmand/Goursaint/Fluffball/Wooly Mammoth/Mintcaramel/Sacred Feast/Shamrock Shake/Ice Cream/Furball/Big Bush/Fat Blunt/Apple Pie
Saint x Rivulet - Rivusaint/Speedscugs/Floofish/Fluffy Axolotl/Marine Snow/Waterdancers/Bubblefruit/Seaweed/Holy Water
Saint x Hunter - Saintunter/Cherrybush/Watermelon
Saint x Survivor - Survaint/Toothpaste/Mint Ice cream/Pistachio
Saint x Enot - Saintnot/Chaos/Godmode
Saint x Monk - Saintmonk/Monsaint/Peacemakers/Banana Split/Sprite Lemon Lime
Saint x Nightcat - Nightsaint/Holy Night/Nightshade/Chocolate Mint
HUNTER SHIPS
Hunter x Artificer - Artihunter/Girls Who Kill/Cherry Bomb/Violent Lesbians/Red Velvet/War Criminals
Hunter x Rivulet - Rivhunter/Cotton candy/Fisher/Piranha
Hunter x Gourmand - Gourunter/Huntmand/Honeyham/Cherry Pie/Baby Back Ribs
Hunter x Saint - Saintunter/Cherrybush/Watermelon
Hunter x Survivor - Survunter/Hunter Gatherer/Candy Cane
Hunter x Spearmaster - Spearhunter/Huntmaster/Love Message/Thorn Bush/Grape Fruit/Grape Juice/Broadcats
Hunter x Monk - Huntmonk/Monkhunter/Apple Juice
Hunter x Nightcat - Nighthunter/Bloodmoon
Hunter x Enot - Huntnot/Counterstrike/Hard Boiled
SURVIVOR SHIPS
Survivor x Gourmand - Survmand/Gourvivor/Marshmallow/Snowball
Survivor x Artificer - Survficer/Redvelvet
Survivor x Rivulet - Survulet/Tapwater
Survivor x Spearmaster - Spearvivor/The Fighters/Glowstick
Survivor x Hunter - Survunter/Hunter Gatherer/Candy Cane
Survivor x Saint - Survaint/Toothpaste/Mint Ice cream/Pistachio
Survivor x Nightcat - Nightlight/Oreo/Yin and Yang/Nightvivor/Survnight/Zebra Cake/Riceball/Onigiri/Starrynight
Survivor x Enot -Survivenot/Reversal
MONK SHIPS
Monk x Hunter - Huntmonk/Monkhunter/Apple Juice
Monk x Nightcat - Nightmonk/Solar Eclipse/Moon Cheese
Monk x Rivulet - Rivmonk/Monkvulet/Lemonshark/Banana Boat
Monk x Spearmaster - Spearmonk/Cheesestick
Monk x Artificer - Artimonk/Sunnysideup
Monk x Gourmand - Gourmonk/Cheesewheel/Big Cheese
Monk x Saint - Saintmonk/Monsaint/Peacemakers/Banana Split/Sprite Lemon Lime
Monk x Enot - Monknot/NachoCheese
NIGHTCAT SHIPS
Nightcat x Survivor - Nightlight/Oreo/Yin and Yang/Nightvivor/Survnight/Zebra Cake/Riceball/Onigiri/Starrynight
Nightcat x Enot - Enight/Enotnight/Nightnot/Error 404/Black Cats
Nightcat x Monk - Nightmonk/Solar Eclipse/Moon Cheese/Midnight Sun
Nightcat x Gourmand - Nightmand/Full Moon
Nightcat x Saint - Nightsaint/Holy Night/Nightshade/Chocolate Mint
Nightcat x Rivulet - Nightvulet/Deep Sea/Lanternfish
Nightcat x Artificer - Nightficer/Artinight/Fireworks
Nightcat x Hunter - Nighthunter/Bloodmoon
Nightcat x Spearmaster - Spearnight/Nightspear/Shadow Force/Vampire Bat
ENOT SHIPS
Enot x Artificer - Enotficer/Paprika/La Bomba/Pipe Bomb
Enot x Gourmand - Enotmand/Gournot/Bathbomb/Scrambledeggs/Suspiciousstew/Black Licorice
Enot x Rivulet - Rivunot/Speedrun/Ploink/ADHD/Explosion :3
Enot x Spearmaster - Spearnot/Lagspike
Enot x Saint - Saintnot/Chaos/Godmode
Enot x Hunter - Huntnot/Counterstrike/Hard Boiled
Enot x Survivor - Survivenot/Reversal
Enot x Nightcat - Enight/Enotnight/Nightnot/Error 404/Black Cats
Enot x Monk - Monknot/NachoCheese/Moon Cheese/Midnight Sun
ITERATOR SHIPS
Pebbles x Suns - Redpebbles/Sunstone/Hot Rocks/Fallen Suns/ Fallen Sunset/Pepper Volcano/FPS
Pebbles x Sigs - Sigpebbles/Ragequit/Gamer Rage/Rock and a Hard Place/Synthesizer
Suns x Sigs - Sunsigs/Traffic Light/Therapy Session
Suns x Moon - Sunmoon/Eclipse
Sigs x Moon - Sigmoon/Lilypad/Neuron Spam
Moon x Sliver - Slivermoon/WaningCrescent/Fallen Gods/Harvest Moon
Sliver x Wind - Sliverwind/Windy Fields
Wind x Innocence - Windocence/Content Warning User Interface
Pebbles x Suns x Sigs - Sigsunpebs/Cold Ones
MISC. PAIR SHIPS
Artificer x Scavenger Chieftain - Artiking/Regicide
Artificer x Hunter x Rot - Artrothunter/Explosive Hunting
Survivor and Monk's Parents - Mayo Ketchup/Salsa Rosa
Artificer x Hunter x Scavenger Chieftain - Artihunterking/Triple Threat/Triple Red
Robin x Carl - Corbin
MULTI-SHIPS (3)
Artificer x Saint x Hunter - Artisaintunter/Spicy Pesto/Tri-Force/Cyberbullying
Artificer x Hunter x Spearmaster - Artispearunter/Girls Night/Murdercat Trio/Murdercats
Artificer x Hunter x Gourmand - Artihuntermand/Heartwarm/Homebound/Sunrise
Saint x Rivulet x Gourmand - Saigourmulet/Seasoned Fish Fillet/Ice Cream
Artificer x Rivulet x Saint - Artisaintvulet
Survivor x Gourmand x Spearmaster - Gourvivaster/PB&J
Spearmaster x Rivulet x Saint - Spearsaintvulet/Crazy Straw
Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster - Artispearsaint/Dangocats
Hunter x Survivor x Nightcat - Survnightunter/Neapolitan
Artificer x Spearmaster x Rivulet - Artispearvulet/Ultrakill
Rivulet x Hunter x Monk - Rivuntermonk/Sonic Heroes/Red Waters
Saint x Hunter x Rivulet - Saintuntervulet/RGB
Hunter x Rivulet x Spearmaster - Huntvuletmaster/Pufferfish
Rivulet x Spearmaster x Gourmand - Rivmastermand/Fish Kebab/Luau/Seafood Kebab
Spearmaster x Artificer x Gourmand - Spearficermand/Spitroast
Saint x Gourmand x Enot - Goursaintnot/Fluffy Ball of Chaos/Digital Yarn Ball/G Fuel/Choking Hazard/Mountain Dew/Divine Dining
Survivor x Enot x Nightcat - Survnightnot/Oreo Sunday/Lightswitch (System related)/Monochrome
Saint x Enot x Nightcat - Saintnotcat/Cheats Enabled/Glitched Cycles/Ascended cycles/Repeating Fates/Starry Mint
Spearmaster x Hunter x Monk - Spearuntermonk/Juice Box/Apple Cider
Rivulet x Saint x Gourmand - Rivusaintmand/Surf n Turf
MULTI-SHIPS (4)
Artificer x Saint x Hunter x Spearmaster - Artispearaintunter
Artificer x Hunter x Spearmaster x Rivulet - Artispearuntervulet
Gourmand x Spearmaster x Saint x Rivulet - Goursaintmastervulet/Sushi/Popsicle
Gourmand x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Hunter - Gourspearvuletunter/Fish Fry
MULTI-SHIPS (5)
Artificer x Saint x Hunter x Spearmaster x Nightcat - Artispearaintnightunter
Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand - Artispearaintvuletmand/Speartigourmrivsaint/DP Gang
Artificer x Hunter x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Saint - Artispearaintvulenter/War Crimes
MULTI-SHIPS (6)
Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter - Artispearaintunervuletmand/Rainbow/Tie-dye
MULTI-SHIPS (7)
Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter x Enot - Artispearaintunternotvuletmand
Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter x Nightcat - Artispearaintunternightvuletmand
MULTI-SHIPS (8)
Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter x Nightcat x Enot - Artispearaintunternightvuletnotmand (phew... *accidentally summons satan* FUCK.)
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