#the god of happiness series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevebabey · 1 year

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you thought it would be all sweetness??? nooo u got to have a little miscommunication angst before anyone gets any hickies. but they will. in time >:) part one. part two. this is a part three :)

Steve blames it all on the clock.

That stupid cuckoo clock on the wall of the Munson trailer. It's an absolute horror of interior design that would make Steve’s mom shiver if she ever laid eyes on it. It’s probably why Eddie loves it — and the god-awful cuckoo! noise it makes when it goes off.

Because the moment Eddie utters that delightful question, asking for a hickie, the nerve of him, Steve loves it — and Steve is more than ready to oblige him — the stupid clock goes off.

It gives them both a fright, Steve more than Eddie. He gives a whole-body twitch that shifts them both, his head snapping to the wall, a breath forced out of his lungs at the sight of the mustard-coloured bird. Shit. Stupid fuckin’ clock, Steve thinks.

But it seems to break the trance over the room. The sweet tension of their shared closeness is sucked out of the room in an instant. Steve is suddenly aware of the time the popping out bird is announcing. It’s late. Far later than Steve intended to stay over, especially considering work tomorrow.

Without meaning to, the prickle under Steve’s skin rolls through his body. It steals away the comfort that he usually feels with Eddie, tenseness filling his body. Steve hates it — hates how he can’t stop himself from tensing up beneath Eddie.

Eddie notices. He's quick to to retract himself from Steve, pushing up and back, giving Steve his space. He sits beside Steve on the couch, still close. Not close enough to touch.

It helps. The rigidness of Steve's body relaxes just a bit but Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Eddie back on him. Wants his hands gripping Steve’s side. His breath fanning over Steve’s face, cheeks cherry red and pupils blown wide. Steve doesn’t say any of that and he sure is shit isn't brave enough to ask for it.

Instead, he croaks, “It’s late.”

Steve reluctantly pushes himself up from his slumped position, eyes already searching for his scattered shoes. He misses the way Eddie’s face falls, the way he tries to tug his hair in front of his face to hide the hurt. It takes another second to school his expression.

Steve hears a cough and then Eddie agrees with a murmur. “Yeah, sure.”

The words ache. No part of Steve is relieved to have Eddie agree with him. He’s not sure what he wanted; for Eddie to egg him to stay just a little while longer? To prove that their kisses hadn’t been a heat of the moment impulsivity? There's nothing to prove they weren't.

No, it was Steve who said he had to go. It is late. But then again maybe, Eddie wanted him to leave. But, no— Eddie just asked for a hickie, he wouldn’t—

“Don’t you have work early tomorrow?” Steve’s spiral cuts short at Eddie’s voice, tinged with… irritation?

O-kay. Now Steve’s not sure what to think. What had been the source of immense joy because Steve had asked for a kiss and Eddie said yes is suddenly… tilted.

The beginnings of embarrassment begin to cling to Steve like a thick fog. He’s done it again. Been overly eager. Asked for too much, too soon— fuck, that had been Eddie’s first kiss too.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, standing and shoving his foot into the one shoe he can find. He spies the other one under the table and wiggles it out with his toe. He can’t find in it to look at Eddie, not just yet. “Yeah, uh, I should get going.”

It’s all wrong. Steve shouldn’t be leaving — not on these terms. Not when he can’t look at Eddie for fear of what he’ll find. Regret? Steve’s not sure if he could face Eddie again, not if there’s even a trace of it on his face. It would feel like Halloween all over again, a bludgeon on Steve’s too-soft heart. It’ll crumble, he just knows it.

Steve wants to stay. He really wants to. He wants to ask for another kiss, ask for a dozen more kisses. Wants to give the hickie Eddie asked so nicely for and receive one back; matching love bites, like a gentler version of their matching twisted scars adorning their sides.

But he’s always asking for more. Steve always needs more. It’s greedy. It’s embarrassing how much he wants it, how he’s already gotten patient touches from Eddie but it’s not enough. Eddie had sounded a pinch annoyed — even aggravated at Steve.

It doesn't cross his mind that it might be for any other reason. Really, Steve thinks he’s doing Eddie a favour.

“Um,” Steve clears his throat, takes the wobble out of his words. Nods to himself and chances a glimpse at Eddie. The older is staring down at his lap, locks of hair trapped between twitchy fingers. They should talk about it. Steve’s not brave enough to risk his heart tonight.

“Well, g’night.” He says quietly, letting himself out the trailer door. He closes it behind him gently, shoes tapping against the stairs on the way down. It feels wrong, it feels wrong — but it would be selfish to turn back.

He repeats the sentiment over and over, raspy whispers beneath his breath as he climbs into his car. It would be selfish. The engine turns over and he hesitates for just a moment, hoping to catch a silhouette in the kitchen window. It’s empty. Of course, it’s empty.

Of course, Eddie is not chancing for a glance at him on his way out because Steve just asked for more and more and more, and he took Eddie’s first kiss and then— He whispers it to himself again. It would be selfish to turn back.

When he thinks about it on the drive home, Steve’s sure it all comes back to that stupid fucking clock.

Eddie stares in the mirror.

He’s not sure why he was so convinced there would be some radical change in him upon popping his make-out cherry but… well, here he was. Staring in the mirror like he had this morning. Except 10 hours earlier, he had been unkissed.

Tonight, the difference shows. His lips are rosier than usual, a swell to them given by hasty sweet kisses. It’s the only evidence of his spit-sharing moment of passion with Steve on the couch. The rosy colour is already beginning to fade.

Eddie sinks his teeth in. He doesn’t want the only physical proof that he even got to kiss Steve to be gone so soon. Even if that fact seems terribly bitter now.

“What the shit did you do, Munson?” He murmurs to himself in the tiny bathroom mirror.

It’s got toothpaste specks splayed across it. Eddie stares past them. Stares into his own face, reading every change in his features as emotions inside him churn. It’s heading for a distraught expression, the upturn of his brows and quiver in his lips giving him away. He always was a crier. Eddie really wishes he wasn’t.

“Idiot!” He pairs the word with a bang on the wall beside the mirror, frustration leaking out. The toothbrush on the sink shudders in its cup with a clink.

Eddie hates the welling in his eyes. He hates that he ruined the first fuckin’ good thing to happen to him in this town. Loathes that he drives away the first person who actually knows him and still wants to kiss him.

Well, wanted to kiss him.

Eddie’s pretty sure Steve scampering out of the trailer is more than a big enough sign. It’s a blazingly bright neon sign — light up words that say ��This was a mistake!’

Except, it hadn’t felt at all like a mistake to Eddie. It had felt wonderful, better than anything he had thought, the soft curve of Steve’s lips, the grip on his hands on Eddie’s face, the heat in his face, the— Eddie growls, wiping his hand down his face to shake the thoughts. Too good to be true was what it was.

It’s because of what he said. Of what he asked for. It had to be that. But— but Steve had looked eager and almost excited and then the stupid clock had gone off, scaring the shit out of them both. Maybe it was then that Eddie’s words had sunk in and Steve realised what he’d gotten into— and who he’d gotten into it with.

“You had to ask for more, huh?” Eddie scolds himself angrily, wiping his cheeks harshly when a tear streaks free. Another follows, just as fast. Eddie wipes roughly at his face to clear them. Doesn’t care about the streaks of red he leaves on his cheeks. Another trembling reprimand comes out. “You just had to push it, huh? You fuckin’ idiot.”

Eddie can’t stand his reflection anymore. He tears his gaze away as he spins and heads straight for his room.

The button on his stereo is sticky and it takes a few forceful clicks to turn it on, but when he does, he cranks it. It’s loud enough he’ll surely wake some neighbours. Eddie can’t find it in him to care, not even when the neighbours dog starts off with its incessant barking. Anything to stop hearing himself cry.

“Something’s up with Eddie.” is the first thing Robin says when she comes in the front door.

Steve’s mid-yawn when she does, a result of a night of tossing and turning, and he somehow manages a strange choke at her words. In a haste to shut his mouth, he chomps on his fingers covering his mouth — then hisses, pulling it away from his face. He ignores Robin’s perplexed expression, shoving the hand deep in his pocket. His ears feel a tad hotter.

“What? Why? What makes you think that?” Steve asks the questions in rapid succession. Very chill, he chides himself. At this rate, Robin would have him all figured out 10 minutes into their shift.

And it’s not like— well, Robin’s advice is usually great. A bit cut-throat, sure. She doesn’t have a problem trodding on his feelings on her way to tell him the hard truth. Usually, it’s fine. Steve could probably do with a bit of ego-bruising.

Today, he’s… It’s different. That’s what Steve tells himself. This thing with Eddie, he wants to fix it himself. And with too much meddling from Robin’s advice, even if it was with the best intentions, might mix things up too much. It’s hard enough keeping his half-baked apology that’s been brewing since last night in proper order in his mind.

Thankfully, Robin doesn’t comment on his odd demeanor. She just bustles into the back room — there are a couple sounds of her dumping her stuff. When she comes back out the front, she’s fixing her Family Video vest. It looks perfectly straight to Steve.

He checks his own — it’s sitting askew, part of the collar flipped over. He hastily fixes it, running his hands down the front to smooth it a bit.

“Just,” Robin starts, talking as she sits in front of the computer, beginning to take a crack at the admin she managed. She likes doing things as she talks, Steve knows. Helps keep her from letting words run away from her.

Steve’s thankful for it now because she isn’t looking at him when she says, “I think he might have had a bad nightmare last night, or something of that sort. I don’t know. Maybe I’m way off — you know how I am with trying to read people, Steve. I’m not good at it! But when I saw him, he just seemed…”

Robin seems to take an extra moment to deliberate her word choice. Steve’s really glad she’s still facing the computer so she can’t see the myriad of emotions that show on his face.

“…Off.” is the word she decides on.

Which means bad. Steve feels like he’s swallowed a stone. It sinks deep into his stomach. It burns, sour and scorned, twisting up his gut. It means Eddie is bad — it means disappointment, means he regretted it. That Steve had been right; that he’d been too eager, too soon. Too much.

Right. Of course, this happens again. Really, Steve had brought it on himself by asking for so much. It had been one thing to ask for a hug — who actually has to do that? — and then to expect he might get Eddie to kiss him too? What a overstep. Christ, he's an idiot.

“That’s not…” He hears himself say, still lost in his thoughts. It's only when Robin turns on the stool, brows raised, that Steve realises he hasn’t finished his sentence. “Good. That’s not good. To hear.”

Steve turns and starts shuffling around the films on the returns cart, picking them up at random. He stares at a copy of ‘The Princess Bride’ in his hands, a new release, and forces out a causal question.

“What made you think that?” He asks, shoving the film into an empty slot, like he was arranging them. He’s relieved when Robin’s clicking on the keyboard resumes, along with a dramatic sigh.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can be trusted to read anyone’s emotions correctly at any given time, honestly. Remember that old lady? I thought she was being sweet that whole time and then you told me she was being rude! And I couldn’t even tell…”

Robin’s ramble is comforting and helpful to Steve in a way he didn’t know they could be. He presses the cart out, finally getting a move on with it, but delivers a quick nod to Robin when she’s looking to let her know he’s still tuned in. He listens to her get distracted by another topic and leaves Eddie’s name in the dust. It’s a silent relief.

It’s a task to multi-task, listening and devising a plan, but Steve has all shift to find the balance. It’s sometime between finishing re-stocking the action section and starting the romance that Steve decides he should apologise. He should go over today and apologise.

Eddie’s a big boy but Steve’s fairly certain now, if he regretted it, Eddie had probably felt obliged to kiss him back. Probably hadn’t minded the first kiss but- but— Something sticks in his brain; it was Eddie’s first kiss.

It makes Steve feel worse. It doesn’t matter, really, Steve should say sorry for all of it. God, he’s such an idiot.

By the time he’s clocked out, it’s all set in place. He’s got a dozen different apologies running in a loop in his head, reciting the words in time with his anxious tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not a long drive out to Forest Hills Trailer Park. The drive is well-known now. Steve tries hard not to wallow in what he might be losing today. What he lost because he’d been too greedy with want.

The sight of a brown van parked roadside yanks him from his thoughts. Eddie’s van. Steve’s stomach turns, nerves gnawing faster. He slows, trying to catch eye of the other boy as he rolls to a stop behind the van. The sun is beginning to dip closer to the horizon, the temperature going with it.

At the same time, they see each other; Eddie’s head popping around the raised hood to see who had stopped, right as Steve pops his door. Eddie retreats in an instant. Steve's chest grows a bit tighter.

Gravel crunches underfoot as Steve takes a few wary steps closer. It doesn’t take more than a couple before Eddie calls out. He doesn’t bother poking his head out again.

“Go away, Steve.”

Steve swallows thickly. Yeah, okay, he deserves that. He deserves probably worse than that. But more importantly than that, Eddie deserves to hear this. And Steve... needs to not lose Eddie.

“Can I… can we talk?” Steve asks, taking a couple steps closer. A car whizzes by on the road, hidden from Steve's view behind the van. He still keeps his distance, hovering. His hands clench nervously at his sides. Steve shoves them deep in his jean pockets, wiping the sweat off them as he goes.

“What part of ‘Go away’ isn’t clear enough for you?” Eddie snarks back. He still doesn't stick his head out, still won’t look at Steve. It stings.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve starts, another instinctive step forward taken. “I-I just, I shouldn’t have left like I did last night. I wanted to apologise.”

There’s a clattering from behind the hood like Eddie’s dropped a tool. He swears. Steve wants to take another step, wants to see Eddie — wants to read every emotion and apologise for causing any of the ugly ones.

“Well, apology accepted,” Eddie responds. There’s a bite in his words. His next words are grumblier, quieter. “And message fuckin’ received.”

What? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That—” Finally, Eddie steps away from the van, rounding the hood to march up to Steve. His arms cross over his chest, a wrinkle set between his brows that pull his face into a glare. Robin was right; he is off. This isn’t normal Eddie. Fuck, Steve had fucked up bad.

“That means message received, Steve.” Eddie seethes. He uncrosses his arms to gesture wildly. Steve misses the wobble in his bottom lip. “Message received loud and clear! I get it!”

And all Steve wants to ask is: get what? He doesn’t ask that. He should know what. That would be an idiotic question, would make Eddie more irritated. Lord knows, Steve has been enough of a fool in the last day. So, he doesn’t ask.

“Look, I just…” Steve starts, words a bit weak. They die in his throat as he tries to recall a single apology he had practiced all day and comes up empty. “I’m just- I just wanted—look, I’m sorry I took your first kiss!”

It’s not exactly what he means to say, but Steve certainly is sorry for it. Eddie’s expression wavers, some anger slipping away. Confusion takes its place.

“What?” Eddie says with a tone of bafflement. “What are you talking about?”

“And I’m sorry I kept… kept asking for more.” Steve continues on, pulling on the thread inside him, connected to the terrible stone he swallowed earlier. He tugs it. Hopes pulling it will unravel the guilt sitting heavy in his stomach.

Steve scrunches his eyes shut and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I know, okay? I know that I can be a lot.” He sighs and drops his hands.

“But I didn’t mean to… shit,” He wrenches his eyes open. Eddie’s a bit wide-eyed now, brown eyes watching him intently. Steve doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing, can’t tell if it’s good or worse. He continues, soft words scraping out his throat.

“I didn’t mean to be like that with you.”

Eddie searches Steve’s face, eyes darting and wild. He licks his lips. His hands are in motion, fingers twisting rings, quick and fast. It’s a nervous action.

“What do you mean by ‘like that?’” Eddie asks, voice gentler. It's lost its snarl from before.

Steve blinks, a scrape of teeth worrying his bottom lip. He murmurs his admittance lowly, just one word, “Selfish.”

Eddie doesn’t try to hide his surprise; it ripples across his face in a wave. Confusion melts away into something closer to, Steve hopes desperately, relief. Steve can feel his own heart thudding hard inside his chest — can feel the beat it skips when Eddie steps closer.

“Steve?” Eddie says, sounding unlike himself. Steve’s never heard his voice that small. He nods, wordlessly. Eddie searches his face once more — wide brown eyes scanning and devouring. Steve can’t help but do the same.

He drinks in the details of Eddie’s face; the soft scruff along his top lip, the darkness of his lashes and the way they kiss in the corner that Steve adores. The pink of his lips. The familiar ache to kiss Eddie surges up within him, still as violent and strong as it had been the night before.

Steve should really stop looking at Eddie’s lips. He’s supposed to be apologising. He drags his eyes up and meets Eddie’s gaze full-on, prepared for whatever he might say. Except, he’s not expecting him at all to say;

“Can I... try this again?” It comes out a ragged breath, Eddie's scared eyes conveying the weight behind his words.

And this time Steve doesn't even need to ask what because he knows. Because Eddie's hands are reaching up and holding either side of Steve's face so gently. Steve can't recall a time he's ever been held so softly. His own hands come up slowly, draping around Eddie's wrists to hold them, to keep them there.

Eddie's thumb traces. It draws a sweet line of that familiar fire beneath Steve's skin along til it's settled on Steve's bottom lip, resting. The blood under Eddie's thumb thrums, gloriously warm, aching with want. Yes. Steve thinks. Yes, yes, yes.

"Yes, please." Steve breathes, so sincere the words comes out as a kiss against Eddie's thumb.

So, Eddie kisses him.

now with a part four !

tags below! sry if i tagged u and u didn't want it just tagging everyone who replied <3 @they-reap-what-we-sow @impeachy @anaibis @resident-gay-bitch @ediewentmissing @newtstabber @original-cypher @invisibleflame812 @hunterbow04 @leather-and-freckles @dracoswifeandlokispet @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @lfaewrites @sundead @call-me-big-eyes @the-redthread @goblinmanifesto @etaka @bishopextractions @ketterfuck @persephone13 @beckkthewreck @maya-custodios-dionach @autumnal-dawn @yourstrulyjoko @gleefully-macabre @princess-eddie @savory-babby

#EHEHE SORRY I CANT RESIST A LITTLE BIT OF MISCOM ANGST #MORE SWEETNESS COMING THO!!!#on god eddie needs his hickie #and im gonna GIVE HIM ONE #AND SO MUCH LOVE!!!!!!#BEST BOYS NEED TO BE HAPPY IN LOVE!!!!#maybe one more part :)#i had only one more idea for the can i's and i BET u can guess what it might be <3 #and it needs to draw back to touch cos that was the POINT of this fic originally #IM ALL BOUT PARALLELS BABEY #hope u find this delicious #gay ppl in my phone... this for u #can't wait to write the relieved kisses w the 'YOU THOUGHT WHAT???'#they're such goobers <3 #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #can i series #HOW MANY CAN I'S CAN U SPOT THIS TIME !!!#ruby writes steddie #steddie angst #steddie fluff #uhhhh don't flop challenge #or do flop. i can't control the masses #hopefully this hits the brainrot just right

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waterlilyvioletfog · 1 year

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See the thing is, you read HtN and like yeah, obviously lobotomizing yourself so a dead girl’s soul doesn’t get cannibalized is completely fucking wild and you probably have to love someone at least a little to do that, but Harrow has spent the whole book having tension with Ianthe and fervently claiming to be in love with the Body— and then you get to Act V and Harrow is literally weeping wailing feral about Gideon, constructing Prince!Gideon AUs (which, she doesn’t know about Gideon’s paternity!! She is simply drawing upon a (romantic!!!) genre trope!!!) and role reversal AUs and fucking coffee shop AUs about Gideon, and she’s refusing to go back to her own body, and Abigail and Magnus and Dulcie so obviously and completely believe that Harrow is in love with Gideon because they directly compare them to Abigail and Magnus, and she says she’s saving the last dance. Agh!!! Aggghhhhh!!!!!!

#when I tell you that harrow’s final chapter is fucking euphoric she’s so happy. I swear she’s so happy Gideon’s alive it’s insane #the locked tomb spoilers #tlt series #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #htn spoilers #tlt spoilers #tlt #the locked tomb series #harrowhark nonagesimus #griddlehark #I just re-read htn. it’s wild.#to be honest the river bubble plotline is so wonderful I’m so glad harrow got to have that.#abigail loving her. Magnus and dulcie. ortus apologizing for his role in her life etc. the ghost gang!!#fun fact: I want a TV show about the ghost gang. ortus pro marta and nonius vs the world. TELL ME you wouldn’t watch that shit #like the whole book is so miserable and act v is especially miserable but the bubble plot in act V is just. god it’s so good.

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0yorixu · 1 month

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secret life stuff and I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to draw etho's hair in a way I liked

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todayisafridaynight · 2 months

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[sketch reward]

#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku 7 #yakuza series #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 #like a dragon #koichi adachi #makoto date #oh i forget their ship name again OOP #snap sketches #this commissioner is singlehandedly making me fill the date/adachi tag vjELRKVJELKJ god bless em #i never get tired of drawing these two sillies ... lmao .... i love old people ...#its like a gift whenever i get comm'd from them too like its always shit im happy to do AHAAA #ok im in class fjLKFJKJ BYE

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tapakah0 · 1 year

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"Bring me back to bright days" Little gift(?) with Big thank you to @somerandomdudelmao for bringing me happiness over little things

(References)

#cass apocalyptic series #Just thank you I can't describe it with other words I feel so much while reading it because I think oh god it's funny oh god wait #it's bad no oh god she'd already thought about it from the beggining! I wanna them to be happy...#I'm waiting on a miracle #please #rottmnt #rise of the turtles #rise of the tmnt #somerandomdudelmao

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smolvenger · 6 months

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Yggdrasil (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: Your husband, the god of mischief, has made the ultimate sacrifice for his friends, and the world...he lives, but now he is alone...that is until you choose to join him in his solitude and make a life there.

Warnings: MAJOR spoilers for the ending of the Loki series. Angst, but fluff and hurt/comfort. YN becomes a goddess in her YN-y moment. Brief mentions of sex and pregnancy, but no smut at all. Fix it Fic goodness. Canon and Norse mythology is not a code and more like a guideline. Is it accurate? I don't know. And this is fic world. Accuracy don't mean shit. I just want my boy to be happy after all that and do my part as a Loki fic writer after...THAT.

Word Count: 2K

@fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

You walked over to the tree. It was incredibly beautiful. The vines reaching out. The colors are everywhere. The trunk of it twisting, twisting round. The blueness and soft greens that surrounded you. Light purple flowers high up, blossoming. You had heard of it in stories. Maybe dreamed of it once. But here…here in person it was even more beautiful.

“Hello there, Yggdrasil.” you greeted with a smile.

There was a breeze in the wind. It rattled the leaves above. The starry sky. It didn’t feel too cold here- it felt sweet, crisp. An early autumn night. You took several steps closer until you were right before the trunk. Your voice lowering.

“But I know who you really are…who is in there…” you continued.

The search had been long. It had been a month. A month since you saw him. The look on his face, and felt his sacrifice, his steps going forward. Now here it was-in person. Here he was.

It shivered in response. You went up, gently placing a hand on the bark.

You felt the curves of your lips to a gentle frown. A voice that was not begging…only requesting. Soft, but grounded. As grounded as the tree was though in it’s magic it seemed like it floated where it grew.

“Please…take me to him…it is all I want, all I wish, all I ask for…please allow me to see him…even if it’s only once…”

Was your prayer answered? Even heard? You sucked in a breath, feeling your chest grow tight with anticipation. The delicate lines of both despair and hope on a thin line.The golden band around your finger felt tight- shimmering amidst the dark wood of the tree.

The vines relented. They thinned and opened up- as easily as silk. There was a glowing opening within the tree. You felt it- a stillness. As if you were waited. Expected.

Inside it, you took your steps into the heart of the tree. It felt like the cool mist, the light rain as you walked through-like the light rain that poured the first night you let him into your bed. Your heart raced, your palms clammy.

Was this a mistake? The wrong one? It had to be…it had to! It couldn't have done that unless… it was really…no- was this it? Would Yggdrasil kill you? Destroy you for knowledge so intimate, so secret?

Branches, vines, leaves- so much wood here. There was a green light that glowed about it, shining everywhere- how perfect for him, you mused.

Your head turned. Throat going dry and tight with dread, fear. You searched around. Eyes skittering through the thick vines.

You looked around-nothing but the greenery…

Then…there was a voice. Breathy, baritone, low, rich-and it whispered your name in echoes.

The greenery opened up. You saw first horns. Then…

There, on a throne, surrounded by vines, there he sat. Pale and handsome. He was always handsome to you. Despite the lines of care, his drooping eyes…it was him. You knew that face- caressed it, kissed it so many times.

His eyes then lowered to you. Its blueness seemed darkened, dimmed. Then he looked at you, squinting. He whispered your name again, to you. You felt everything in you freeze. You wanted this. Processed it. It was real- very, very real.

“Is…is that…” he began to whisper.

Tears brimmed up your eyes and you cupped your mouth, as you felt them drop down your hand already.

“Loki it’s you!” you cried out.

Sobbing hard, you ran into him, almost tackling him into a hug. Crying so hard your whole body shook with each tearfall. So much your face felt hot, even as it scratched against his cloak- against the long vines. You felt his hands wrap around you. And you heard him just say your name again- an incantation. A spell to bring you back. A spell that worked. You cried as he held you, the vines around him shivering.

“What…what is it…why…why did you come here?” he asked.

You released the hug. Wiping off your tears with your sleeve like a little child. Your tone returned to the old teasing.

“You silly man! What kind of wife abandons her husband?”

Loki’s mouth opened, but he said nothing. His face was in awe.

“I came here for you! I figured out how- and I did!” you replied.

He let out a deep sigh. He lifted his white hand, caressing your cheek. You leaned into it, enjoying the intimacy, his touch that you had been deprived of, that he had been deprived of too for so long.

“You know I cannot leave this. Ever. I…I must do this, my love…I had to…to save all of them…to save you…I…I must make sure…their stories all…all are happy…are managed, well…even yours.” he voiced. His face serene, though a tear fell down across his cheek.

You then took his hand and clutched it.

“Loki, the many times you comforted me when I cried. Stood by me. Protected me when I was in danger, scared. Saved me, even. And you know how…how lonely I would get in Asgard. Who else would run to my side to comfort me…but you. I shall do that for you!”

His eyes widened.

“But…you cannot give up your home, your life!” he replied.

You shook your head.

“I will make a new one here- we will make a new one here…Thor and Frigga gave me their blessing before I left. They saw how happy we made each others…and that is what they want. I told them what you did. The people you saved…and they’re…they’re proud of you.”

He blinked rapidly, more tears falling down. You lifted two of your hands- cupping his face lovingly. He had no choice but to look in your eyes.

“When we were married, we promised, before the AllFather and AllMother to always stand by each other...I will honor the vows I made on that altar, as you honored your vows to me,” you declared.

The wind rustled above. Inside, there were a few violet buds that dangled, moving slightly. Willing the flower to open.

“My darling….Asgard will lack its princess.”

“A mere consort? No! I am not an heir to anything! A mere accessory to a throne, a part of a painting…and nothing eles? And alone? Loki, I don't need a palace, gold, riches, and titles…I only ask to be loved and safe…and Loki…you will be alone…now- you won’t be. I will stay by you. We will face this new part of your life together!”

There was a slight grown from the wood. Both of you looked about, your hands dropping. He nestled into the green cloak he wore around him. His helmet perfect for him- never once slipping off his head.

“It’s quiet here…there’s no one…nothing…a life of nothing…but making these stories” he mused.

“Then let me stay…let me help…if only…if only to be with you…I will live here. If not near- then give me access. I will stay here, come by every day. Visit for hours…just to be with you.”

“My darling…sweet, sweet wife…I was alone and I…I don’t have to…”

There were tears in his eyes.

“Thank you…thank you, my dear…”

He pressed his forehead to yours. The cold metal of the forehead touching your own. You only held hands. Felt each other- the love in your systems bursting forth.

A vine went to you, grazing against your arm. You lifted a hand.

“Which one is this?” you asked.

“This one…a man named Steve…or Marc…he’s three at once, it’s very complicated….” Loki explained.

You lifted a finger to touch it. There was a ripple. The vines shook, some of them went to you. You wondered…you lifted a hand. It allowed you to touch it. There was a small, reddish glow, it went up and through.

“You just…just…made something happen…something will occur for Steve…he’s about to learn what gifts he truly has…my dear…has this happened before?”

“No- not until now…”

“You think that…you have a certain…gift?” he asked.

The vines reacted in turn. You realzed as you touched them, you could help move these stories. Turn them- touching made something happen and Loki would tell you.

“My dear…you have a gift. One of fate…”

“Then…I guess I cannot leave now. You will help with stories. I will help with fates. We both have work to do.”

He smiled.

“Asgard now has a new goddess…” he said. You went up, and kissed him. You cried as your lips touched. And there was a shudder that went through the trees and rattled through the forest like a wind.

It was an adjustment. Making a home just outside of the remains of the earth. Fortunately, you knew enough magic to get by. To transport and conjure food. Even gather some from the nearby village. Enough to make a garden, a home.

And every day, you walked out to Yggdrasil. Vanished for hours. Then returned.

For the villagers, it was odd that a goddess of fate was just going about the streets getting groceries among them. You merely shrugged and laughed it off.

You said your husband was busy. Quite busy. He had an important job-crucial one. Yet people wondered at you- the mysterious goddess who lived in a cottage by the woods, whose husband never appeared, and vanished into the forest. The forest at the end of the world, mind you- every day and returned with a smile on her face as if nothing happened.

It was quiet and simple. No opulent balls and feasts of Asgard. But no fathers with clear favorites and tears and bloody battles with countless corpses and heartbreak either.

How often you polished the horns on his helmet and washed his cloak by the river. Then he would tell you all about what happened. Fates and stories. You would mend them, mind them. Determine what worked, what did not. And you would laugh and cry so hard over every story on earth of each person you would feel like a rag rung out…yet in a good way.

And you would wrap your arms around him. Sit on his lap on the throne, as you did back then so many times before. Kiss him and nuzzle into him. Feel his touch- remind him through the brush of your fingers through his dark curls. I am here, I am here, I am here.

It was like being remarried- A honeymoon fortress of oak, willow leaves, and flower petals. The newness of your husbands role, his abilities. As well as yours. But without everything else…no, you didn’t need anything else. Only each other.

It was a month later, you knew the change. You felt it. The suspicion. The inkling you felt since you began your journey. Counting on your fingers from when it last happened, and your journey to him began, the timing was right. The intuition. The small ringing of a bell in the back of your head getting louder, and louder with each passing week. The one reason on the backburner that was never confirmed. And now it was. You both wanted it. Hoped for it. Now, though the circumstances could have never been guessed, you would both receive your wish. The confirmation long awaited.

On Yule, you teasingly adored the tree in ribbons. Loki inside scoffed, rolling his eyes. But it only made you laugh harder. In Spring, you collect its flowers and put them in vases. In Summer, you cooled beneath it’s shade. Loki made sure your story was hte one most preciously protected, guarded. You made old charms from the flowers with his magic- for your safety and good health. Flowers worn over your head in crowns, on your neck. And in Autumn, you watched as they oranged and swirled. How lovely they were surrounding you as you held each other.

A year and a half went by before you knew it, as swift as mortals lives. the cottage had an infant girl living in it. She had dark hair, and your skin and eyes. And she was starting to walk. You held her up by both hands in the grass before the forest.

“Come along Freya! There’s a good girl! A step at a time!” you cooed at her.

Who knew what her powers would be. What she was goddess of. But here, she wasn’t a goddess. She was just a baby.

She was Babbling as the grass tickled her feet. The loving, green dress you tucked over her. You held her tiny, chubby hand as she experimentally bent her knees. Then she made a sound of triumph.

Motherhood was not going to stop your gifts and powers as a goddess of fate. You touched the vines and turned fates however. But you had to give happy ones to the friends of him. The ones who meant so much to him, did so much for him. For Mobius, you made sure his sons grew up healthy and strong and happy, with long vacations by lakes and oceans. For Ouroboros, you gave him several awards and successes as a writer and the inspiration and motivation to create, pour water into his own well, and never lose the joy of it. You made sure they all were safe and content.

You scooped little Freya up your arms, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. She was behaving well- not crying loud to wake the whole village. Needing perhaps a cradle from the vines of Yggdrasil again in Norns Know what time of night if she was especially fussy.

You walked her again to the tree. She looked out with her wide eyes. One hand trying to touch the leaves, the vines, the branches. A thing of flowers bloomed for her. One leafy vine went over to graze her cheek. She kicked in enthusiasm, giggling in such pure joy.

You smiled at her and then at Yggdrasil. Seeing the portal open once again.

Knowing he was inside again- to see her. Meet her. Hold her as he did when she was a swaddled newborn to be brought- for him to just hold her. Despite the great loneliness of Loki’s inital fate, you all did everything to change it. He would meet Freya and watch her grow up. He would see her, hold her, love her. Again. Again. And again.

You turned your face to the baby with a smile, and then to the portal door and the god of stories waiting inside.

“Freya- let’s go see your father.”

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melonimili · 2 months

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more drawings of these two because they make me so emotional :(((

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #melon's art #melon's art: ace attorney #and now for ramble time...#i am currently in the final chapter of tgaa2!!!! this game was so damn long but OH MY GOD every single hour was worth it #that game is my everything... it is so dear to me and soon i will have to say goodbye to everyone :(#but on the good side. after that i will finally play AA456 and i'm really looking forward to it!!!!!!!#i love this series it makes me so happy

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natbaumer-blog · 5 months

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Oh it’s almost Christmas 🎄

#percy jackson #pjo fanart #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo hoo toa #annabeth percy jackson #books and libraries #heroes of olympus #drawing #percy and annabeth #percabeth #annabeth chase #procreate #pjo series #chalice of the gods #christmas #happy holidays

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mewtwo24 · 4 months

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I finally finished reading the fourth volume of svsss in full, and thing is--the first time through I only read the bingqiu content because I was ravenous for more of their happy ending.

Turns out that was a perilous mistake.

Because I started reading the airplane extras. And I swear to god. MXTX is trying to kill me

What do you MEAN demon lord Binghe was sitting on his big fucking throne. All stoic and forbidding. Surrounded by his demon generals who don't know shit about human courtship. Asking them what he should do, fully demoralized by constant rejections from sqq, only to have airplane tell him to act more pathetic and needy. Which is already hysterically funny and insane, UNTIL LBH'S RESPONSE IS THIS, KILLING ME INSTANTLY:

LUO BINGHE. WHY DOES HE SAY IT LIKE: "I already tried that, didn't work--nothing works :/ not mean, not maidenly, not housewife, not spicy, not capable disciple. Is doubling down on clingy really all it will take? What's a born hater with only one love in his life to do????"

The dichotomy of him sitting there like 'how can I reach the unfathomable depths of shizun's heart?' A HEART HE'S ALREADY WON OVER, MIND and then in the Holy Mausoleum solving the puzzle without blinking and being like 'oh yeah you just have to hit the acupoints, no sweat.' Literally the comedy writes itself I'm so--

How am I supposed to be normal about this. MXTX understands the juicy quintessential queer joy of a person with the world's power at their fingertips wishing only for love. Willing to do anything to earn that love, when unbeknownst to them it's already been freely given. Totally not screaming and yelling and clawing at the walls

And that's not even touching airplane's uproarious account of events. The way he's like 'lol what's next, lbh and sqq are best friends now? smfh' only to see lbh TACKLE SQQ LOVINGLY. FOR SQQ TO BE BASHFUL ABOUT IT BUT SO SO FOND OF THE LITTLE SCAMP. This when we've been experiencing sqq's constant inner monologue of 'I'm so cool and so dignified about my role, truly the epitome of propriety and poser-level fortitude.' Meanwhile, in their universe:

Airplane constantly flaming???? Sqq and lbh in his observations????? His absolute bewilderment and confusion????? Legendary. No notes every single second of this shit was hilarious.

Airplane's comment that sqq + older adolescent lbh traveling together was just watching a couple in their honeymoon phase. OR the fact that lbh is exceedingly petty and refuses to share their food in the wake of airplane's interruption of their time together, until sqq relents sheepishly and insists airplane eat what's left (ONLY AFTER PLACATING LBH WITH MORE FOOD FROM HIS PLATE, SOBBING)

Watching airplane salivate over Mobei-Jun and acting like that's totally normal behavior. Finding out mbj and airplane got together first. Finding out sqq encouraged airplane. LIKE THIS. WHILE HE IS STILL IN DENIAL ABOUT HIS OWN FEELINGS:

Mobei-jun clearly thinking their arrangement is a forever thing, heartbroken his human abandoned him with all the hapless fury of a scorned wife swept away by false promises of fidelity. Airplane writing demons to be the type to beat up their crush lovingly and still unable to connect the dots about mbj's feelings. Mbj letting him go and respecting his wishes, only relenting when there's indication airplane was poorly processing his own feelings and didn't actually want to leave. Mbj caring for him and listening to him as soon as airplane voices what he needs directly and with clarity. None of these gays are functional and it's everything to me

Unrelated, but I physically can't hold this information in anymore:

I'm still reeling from younger lbh having his sexual awakening from the image of sqq wrapped in the immortal binding cables. Condemn me as you like he was so, so real for that.

And no I will not be taking any comments about how luo bingge couldn't bear to see luo binghe cherished in ways he never got to have and all the haunting implications of that. I will also not be taking any comments about luo binghe's instinct to look for sqq in that alternate universe, only to be shaken to the very core to be unable to find his shizun anywhere. The unspeakable and latent horror of his relentless mind likely piecing together what happened, but unable to say it; to suspect what is true, and live with the harrowing confusion of his double's actions. To blame himself, to assume that he had let his anger get the better of him in that world and result in unspeakable folly...

I also refuse to talk about how heartrending it is to hear Tianlang-jun weakly say "In the end, I really can't bring myself to hate humans." The implication that the foolishness of that hope and bright-eyed fondness--the very thing that put him through such unspeakable agony--couldn't be beaten out of him entirely. To discover that his faith in Su Xiyan hadn't been misplaced, to the contrary: his beloved hadn't scorned him at all, but rather fought to the miserable end to protect the fruition of their genuine feelings of love when she couldn't protect tlj or herself.

How MXTX has sqq deliberately draw parallels between their situation and that of ygy+sj and tlj+sx; desperately wishing it might not be too late for them. The concept of breaking cycles of abuse and harm pervasive throughout the newly devised story, how it evolves for the better only when love takes the place of power, pride, and domination. How the moment sqq chooses vulnerability instead of saving face, the genre shifts to the so-called "cringe" girly genre where most if not every character is more fulfilled, more true to themselves. How the "male-oriented" former genre was aimlessly sensationalized and sexualized, how it was a sustained performance of aspirational toxic masculinity. How men objectify other men without end. All of the unspoken gendered implications that come with that.

Anyways. Going to go put my head in a sandbox and try to process everything I just witnessed because even a second reading is not enough to find a modicum of closure.

#svsss #bingqiu #moshang #i swear to god this series is just 'gay man who doesn't know shit inflicting his delusional reality on everyone else and inciting chaos'#and literally it's slapstick levels of hilarious every single time; mxtx never change #also i fully agree that we did not get NEARLY enough mobei-jun and sqh/airplane content #the amount of mental illness to mental illness communication going on there was astonishing #mobei-jun being afraid of his uncle and bringing sqh because that's the only person he trusts fully (WAILING NOISES)#sqh having a tantrum but running away because for the first time he was honest about his needs + his dissatisfaction with catering to other #how that reflects his narrative compulsions and how he felt forced to warp more creative story paths for the sake of survival as a writer #how sqq's restoration of much of his original intent--as well as mobei-jun's acceptance of his needs--helps airplane begin to heal #how his happiness begins; how just like sqq he wanders in such confusion and denial before he's forced to realize what truly matters to him #SHREK VOICE: STORIES HAVE. L A Y E R S #it feels like modern day shakespeare and when i say that i don't mean it in a hollow elevating sense i mean it more like #mxtx just hits that perfect balance of poignance but also hilarious concentric circles of botched communication and brainworms #okay but real talk for a minute? .........;-;#the way lbh constantly struggles with such a crushing feeling that he'll be abandoned over any little mishap/thing/problem #really hit me where it hurts??? if only because its so clearly an anxiety that stems from original goods' upbringing #the way it becomes even more heartrending when you think back to all the sect leaders clamoring that he should have been killed as an infan #that he should have been aborted as a fetus--insisting right in front of him that his birth was a mistake and a disgrace #over having demon blood in his veins. like my god that scene is so viscerally upsetting i struggle to read it #the way its so easy to see the demons as a manifestation of otherness in precipitated form #how both sqq and sqh are influenced by human rhetoric without evening meaning to--assuming the worst against their better judgment #how both sqq and sqh both struggle with their own otherness in different ways and only find solace when they begin to accept who they are #how their lovers (lbh and mbj respectively) both are willing to navigate those confusing waters with them #how both demons love them as they are--accept them as they are despite how difficult forgiveness of perceived betrayal is for them #ty mxtx for changing my brain chemistry #as i get older i have such a fondness for the messiness of thematic queer self-discovery and growth into self-acceptance #that and how youth can so easily be defined by perfectionistic self-harm and the violence of repression

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