i did always wonder

5

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM WINCHESTER! 🎈 (Born May 2, 1983)

2

2k make me choose edits:

@downworlld asked: andromeda tonks vs narcissa malfoy

A voice told him where to go, and he went.

Maybe there was a time when the word of a disembodied voice would not have been enough. He doesn’t remember it. He doesn’t remember a lot of things. He remembers a lot of things. He remembers the wrong things.

He is slow. Maybe he wasn’t always slow, but he is slow now. There is no straight line between points. He considers every tree and every flower. He picks apples and catches lizards. He stares at the sky, and chases the stars.

He doesn’t speak much. He’s told he never did. He wonders if it was then what it is now, the way the words taste wrong and never fit on his tongue. Hylian and Hylian and Hylian but it never sounds right to the points of his ears. His first language is foreign and his accent is nowhere. He doesn’t sound like a hero. He doesn’t know what he sounds like, but he knows he doesn’t like it. It grates the way any wrong thing grates. He says nothing, and no one seems to mind.

He catches beetles, and stops to take pictures of fish.

In the burnt husk of a home, he finds a rusted shield. It didn’t do them much good, whoever they had been. He finds them all over, these floors without ceilings, these roofs without walls. He wonders, always: have I been here before? Did I know them, once? This house on the mountain, this cabin in the woods, would they have recognized me? Was this a name that fit on my tongue?

He learns to bake a cake, breaks rock salt and rubies from veins of ore in the earth.

He moves the sails of a raft with a Korok leaf, and he thinks: this should be easier. He wills the wind to move, but there is nothing. He looks out at the ocean and thinks: what might we find there? His raft is dead wood. He is alone.

He catches fairies in his hands, pink light and warmth and a faint ringing in his skin. They never complain. They never speak. He opens his hands to let them go, and they are the wrong color. The Great Fairy laughs, and it’s so much prettier than it used to be. Than it never was. He rolls glass bottles in his hands, but he doesn’t take them with him.

There is something restful in this. He can’t explain it, even if he had words to try. In his long slumber something inside him came unmoored, and he knows things he must not. He is tired. He knows this most of all. There is work to be done. There has always been work to be done.

He lights a fire, roasts a fish, picks at the flaky meat while it’s still hot enough to burn his fingertips.

He thinks of a sister he never had. He thinks of a grandmother he never had. Did he know his grandmother? In the Lost Woods he stares at the Deku Tree, and knows this is not home. There is a green-haired girl on the backs of his eyelids, and she sounds like three notes repeating.

He finds an ocarina made of wood, and runs his fingers over the holes. Three notes, repeating. He plays them, and nothing happens. He checks the shape of the moon and his reflection in the water. He plays three notes, different this time. There is nothing but an ache.

It sounds more like his voice than his voice ever did, and that hurts worse than silence.

He tries to remember Mipha. He wants to remember her most of all. They were friends, he is told. Close, he is told. He has nothing but fragments and a shirt that fits too well. When he tries to remember, he sees blue scales instead of red.

Zelda is Zelda is Zelda. She is the reference point around which the world turns. She is always Zelda, even when she isn’t. Her face is always her face. He is grateful and resentful in turns. There are so many people he would remember, if he could. Instead there is Zelda.

Ganon is not Ganon is not Ganon. He doesn’t know if Ganon has a face. He’s had so many faces. Was this ever a man, this manifestation of malice? He remembers eyes of gold, he remembers snouts. He recognizes the smell of him in burnt cloves and blood.

Fear is red lights and a blue glow. He knows these things were hope, once. He can’t remember it. He can’t remember seeing six metal legs and believing they would save him. Did he always know that it was helpless? It feels like he should have known.

The words are different, but the meaning is the same. He is procrastinating. If he needed an excuse, he would call it training. He would say they need every advantage. He would say they will only have one chance. No one asks for excuses. He says nothing.

Zelda has waited a hundred years. She waits, still.

She remembers a boy who never rushed her. She remembers, the way he does not, his silent patience while she found herself. While she took too long to find herself. She will wait for him to find himself, even if he takes too long. They may doom the world with their patience, but does the world not owe them this? There are so many worlds, and so few of them are kind. What could this world have been, if it had been kind? What might she have saved if it had not demanded saving?

She did not save the world. She will not save the world. She saved a single point of kindness who did not ask it from her. She will not ask it from him, but he may save her all the same. He is courageous. He is kind. Please, be careful.

He catches Koroks in durian trees, and chases dragons through canyons.

He jumps off a cliff to land in a stable, and no one there sees the hero he should be. He is no one, he is nothing. He is halfway to a beast, but they’re grateful for his help, when he offers it. He always offers it. He doesn’t know how not to.

His hands are calloused. Sometimes they bleed. He ties up his hair every morning, and does not stop. Swords fit so neatly in his hand. Sometimes he uses them to light fires or carve birds. It’s just easier. A sword is all he knows. He’s trying to be more. This might be beyond him.

Sometimes he growls when he’s angry. Sometimes he rips things apart with his teeth. Sometimes dogs follow him, but sometimes they whine. The shadows aren’t always unfriendly, and he feels them like fingers in his hair. There are eyes like fire in the mirrors at night, but he can only see them in the corners of his eyes.

The first time the Gerudo catch him, it was because he tried to scale their walls. Why did he think that would work? Urbosa would laugh if she knew.

He catches horses, but they’re never the right one. The hooves are wrong, the gait is wrong. They are never a part of him, an extension of his own legs. He rides across fields and they hesitate the way she never did. He whistles three notes, sometimes, but it never works.

He finds it, eventually. The place the voice told him about. Walls without a roof. Has he been here before? Surely he has. It’s night when he arrives. His footsteps make no sound. This is how he navigates the world, now, quiet as the sky. It’s easier this way. He kneels down to catch the latch on the chest, and when it opens, he cannot breathe.

He stares at it for a long time.

The moon is only the moon. His skin is still his own. Eventually, he breathes again.

He almost laughs.

He slides the mask onto his face.

Welp. We went to see Wonder Woman. I cried during the sad parts and some of the other parts. They were the same kind of tears I had on and off through Ghostbusters. Movies with strong women who are fully realized people who are allowed to be sexual but are not sexualized and can also kick ass just make me cry randomly. Though TBH I also cry in LotR when anyone picks up their sword and runs into battle screaming the name of their home. I didn’t even realize how ravenous I was for a female version of that.

lukerchomai  asked:

Hi Cassie! How are you? Can I ask you what do you think about Sebastian? How did you get the inspiration for this character? I always wondered if you liked him as a character or not Thank you so much, love you!

I got the inspiration for Sebastian while reading a book about child murderers. Not people who murder children, but children who murder. The book mused on the idea of children as essentially amoral in that morals and values develop over time, but I was more interested in the ideas it posed about some people simply being born without a moral compass at all: without the ability to know right from wrong. That they just didn’t have it. And what did that mean for them: what do you do with a twelve or even sixteen year old who doesn’t know what good or bad is, and never will? What are morals and conscience: are they ingrained, socially taught? Etc.

So Sebastian developed as a character with no sense of right or wrong, no conscience and no morals. He never had them and he never would. Because it’s a fantasy series, I used the metaphor of demon blood: that it had erased his ability to make moral choices. 

People often ask if I like a character or not. Sometimes I do in the sense that I’d want to hang out with them, but I would not want to hang out with Sebastian. However I found him interesting and therefore enjoyable to write: unless you’re writing didactic moral fiction, you enjoy characters for what they tell you about people, not really in the sense to which you find them morally upright or morally lacking. Sebastian was interesting because he couldn’t tell right from wrong; he wanted to be loved, but didn’t know how to deserve love or give it. He was jealous that his father loved Jace and not him, but lacked the ability to understand why. He wasn’t bad because of a bad experience or a bad childhood – I thought that would have been trite and overdone, and not really true to the inspiration for the character. He just had this terrifying blank space where for most people, conscience lies.

It was a dark and sometimes frightening experience, writing Sebastian. It sometimes felt like getting very close to a vast cold empty space. So did I like him? I think he’s an effective villain, and the story would suffer without him. I think I learned from him about evil and about goodness. I think in the end in the end I mourned along with the characters for the Sebastian that never existed, the one who didn’t have demon blood and could have been someone good. I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley, but one of the the points of stories is to take you safely down those dark alleys of the heart and soul, the ones that are too dangerous and frightening and heartbreaking to explore in real life.

2

Unanswered questions have been nagging at me. Kim is like so many other women, it seems to me, who have grown up with trauma. And yet there is no talk of the long-term effects. I decide to put the question of sexual abuse to her plainly. She tells me that yes, something did happen in the home of a relative when she was a girl, but she doesn’t want to get into the details. She has never talked about this before. She doesn’t want to dwell on the pain. I am saddened by her admission, and the fact that so many years later, she is still so clearly devastated.

And I am saddened that even here, in a place for relaxation and nurturing, she is unable to divest herself, even for a few hours, of the blue contact lenses and blond wig.

“Think about it,” she confesses when I ask her to talk about her experience of skin color. “The girls that [men] dated when I was younger were light-skinned and tall. I’m short and brown-skinned. And I always wondered … how do I fit in?”

Did she ever overcome the feeling of being ugly?

“I really haven’t,” she admits. “Honestly, though, I think being Lil’ Kim the rapper helped me deal with it better. Because I got to dress up in expensive clothes, and I got to look like a movie star or whatever. I think doing photo shoots and seeing all the people respond to me has helped. [But] I still don’t see what they see.”


excerpt from the mask of lil’ kim (the washington post, sept. 2000).

A Grocery Store Saviour

Request: Omg i love your writing sooo much <3 I was thinking if you could do a story based off Michael Buble’s ‘Just Haven’t met you Yet’. I understand if you wouldn’t want to do it but thank you for your time :)

Word Count: 2,852

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous but also tagging @dont-give-a-bother @red-roses-and-stories and @caseoffics


“Next!” You call, back aching and feet sore. Work usually sucks, but today it’s a living hell. Saturdays are the normally busiest days at the grocery store but add the fact that it’s the first day of spring that’s warmer than 50 degrees, and you’ve got yourself a full store. The bustle of people weaving around one another in the narrow aisles meant that you’d been sent to clean up five separate messes and help one bawling seven-year-old find his mother. His snot covered fingers had wrapped around your own until you’d found his mother who’d immediately decided to yell at you for not bringing him sooner. People bumped into you with every turn, resulting in scowls and foul language from some particularly angry customers. You’d had to ask people to repeat themselves four different times because of the clamor and been asked because of that if it were really right for a woman to be working. On top of all that, you wore heels today so your feet want to fall off and the store’s air conditioning hardly works, meaning hot sweat drips down your back and soaks your hairline.

Despite the annoying customers and the math involved, you’re almost grateful to work at the cash register now instead of work on the floor when you hear the horrific sound of gagging nearby. Your coworker Arthur rushes past you, mop already in hand.

Raising your eyebrows at the situation, you shake your head and take stock of everything a middle-aged man in front of you sets on the counter. He wears a dark suit and a cap to hide what you assume is a balding head. He’s muttering something to himself as thick beads of sweat slide down his face, over the patches of red dotting his cheeks and forehead and collecting on his upper lip. Every time he says something, a bead flings off its place above his lip, landing on the counter in front of you.

You cringe but reach for his items and pull them closer. Flipping the page on your notepad, you begin writing the costs of everything down.

“Do you not bother to keep your customers happy here?”

Keep reading

I went to [Tolkien’s] public lectures. They were absolutely appalling. In those days a lecturer could be paid for his entire course even if he lost his audience, provided he turned up for the first lecture. I think that Tolkien made quite a cynical effort to get rid of us so he could go home and finish writing Lord of the Rings.
— 

“He gave his lectures in a very, very small room and didn’t address us, his audience, at all. In fact he looked the other way, with his face almost squashed up against the blackboard. He spoke in a mutter. His mind was on finishing Lord of the Rings, and he was really musing to himself about the nature of narrative. But I found this so fascinating that I came back week after week, as did one other person. I’ve always wondered what became of him, because he was obviously equally fascinated. And because we stuck there, Tolkien couldn’t go away and write Lord of the Rings! He would say the most marvelous things about the way you take a very basic plot and twitch it here and twitch it there–and it becomes a completely different plot.”

- Diana Wynne Jones, author of the Chronicles of Chrestomanci, the Dalemark quartet, Howl’s Moving Castle, on J. R. R. Tolkien’s lectures.

2

I actually combined Day 6 with Day 7 in my last post. Lol. But I wanted to do something separate so I draw another one. I wanted all my entries to be light and cute, supposedly, but…maybe except this one?

The second drawing is for all the admins and those who liked, commented, re-blogged my YooRan works. This is actually my first time participating in a week event here on Tumblr, so I’m really happy…! Thank you guys!

Day 7: The Morning After/Master and Slave

I found out that almost all of my drawings of Yoosung, he didn’t have his hair clips, I’m sorry.

Return (Pt.1)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary:  (Loki Imagine: Imagine Thanos targeting Loki’s lover to punish him for his failure to get the Tesseract.) Taken from tumblr. Thor finds you during an intense mission with the Avengers. After disobeying Steve’s orders and saving you, Thor is cornered. Who are you? What were you doing there? How did Thor know you? Knowing he has to answer all of these questions, Thor explains everything.

Words: 3447

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7616194/chapters/17336539

Thor looked at her with mixed feelings. At first, he felt shock. It came in waves, raising the hairs on his body. He felt confusion and denial. He thought this must be some illusion and went on with the mission. Then he heard her. He heard her screaming his name as loud as she could.

“Thor! Thor please!” Over and over. Disobeying Steve’s orders, he went back for her. He broke her loose, and grabbed onto her tight. Using his hammer, they flew out of there. Back on the Helicarrier, he knew he was going to have to explain. He was going to have to answer questions. Painful ones. He wished he didn’t have to. He wished he didn’t have to say what he knew about this girl, but now was not the time for wishing.

He looked up from his hands where he tried to hide. He sat in a chair next to her. She was completely knocked out. Covered in bandages and a very big blanket, she laid in one of Tony’s personal hospital beds. He bought some just-in-cases, and kept them in a medical wing of the Avengers Tower. Thor looked in front of him. Natasha, Tony, and Steve stood in front of him, waiting. He felt a little scared, but mostly distraught.

“Who is she?” Natasha asked. The question lingered around the room. His shoulders dropped. He felt the weight getting bigger.

“It’s a very long story, Lady Natasha,” Thor replied. He half-hoped he could leave the answer at that.

“Was she your girlfriend before Jane?” asked Tony. He tried to be polite about it, but Tony had his own way of saying things as always. Thor chuckled.

“No, no,” Thor smiled. “Lady Jane is the only woman who has captured my affections completely. This young woman is more of my sister. I care for her very deeply, but not in the romantic sense.” The three Avengers tried to make sense of what Thor was saying. Natasha narrowed in eyebrows out of curiosity. Steve tried side-glancing at Natasha for help. Tony kept talking.

“Thor, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I think there’s more to this story than you’re letting off,” Tony pointed out. Nat and Steve nodded in agreement.

“You wanted to make sure we brought her back here safe and sound,” Tony walked towards the hospital bed. “We saved a lot of people, but you specifically wanted to bring her back here. Why? I mean, if she is not your girlfriend or anything romantically then who exactly is she?” Thor looked long and hard at Tony, Steve, and Natasha.

“If I tell you who she is, you must promise me to let me explain before taking any action,” Thor’s voice almost sounded like his father’s, like a ruler instead of a friend. The three looked at each other, and nodded in agreement.

“Okay, if she is that important then okay,” Tony said. “Who is she?” Thor cleared his throat and with a very serious voice he said,

“She is Loki’s fiancée.”

After some shouting, some scrambling, and an argument from Tony that was cut short by Nat because Tony said, “Her life shouldn’t be worth that much” and Natasha may or may not have put a knife to his throat and made him swear not to touch her. The four Avengers settled in the living room with some tea except Tony who felt he needed ‘a real drink’ instead. Thor felt their curious eyes on him, and he took that as a cue to start.

“Where to begin,” he sighed.

“How about you start with how you met her?” Natasha’s voice sounded more soothing than usual. She smiled a little, trying to encourage Thor to go on.

“Well,” Thor smiled back finally feeling some comfort. “The first time I met her was when I was with Loki and my friends. We all snuck out of the palace to go and drink at pubs when we were much younger. Lady Sif asked me if she could bring her along her best friend, Lady (Y/N). Fandral agreed immediately because he was dying for more female company. Some planning was involved on Loki’s and Fandral’s parts. They wanted to map out where we should go. My friends, Loki, and I took some horses from the stables and we settled at the first pub while we waited for the girls. Loki was complaining about waiting for them when they came in. Usually, Sif would be in armor, but for this night, she donned a beautiful dress. I will admit I did not want to look away, neither did Fandral or Volstagg. Loki, on the other hand, did not look at Sif at all.

“He was looking at (Y/N). I never seen him so engrossed with any girl before. He had kissed and danced with other girls, but this was different. He looked at her as if she was a book he always wanted to read. Sif introduced all of us to her. (Y/N) smiled with such grace and warmth; she was as beautiful as ever. I remember her first words to me. ‘Sif was right about you. You do look like a hero.” Thor had smiled for a bit allowing himself to return to the memory.

“Sif introduced her to Loki last. You remind me of her, Lady Natasha. Sif was very protective of (Y/N) at that time. She looked like she didn’t want Loki to even breathe the same air as (Y/N). Loki stood up and offered her his seat, but before she could sit down, Sif narrowed her eyes and said ‘Don’t you dare even try’ and sat her next to Hogun. That did not matter though, Loki always gets what he wants.” Thor chuckled.

“How so?’ Steve asked.

“Well, it was only the first pub of the night,” Thor continued with his natural talent of storytelling. “We were all drinking wines and meads, experimenting what tasted better. At the second pub, Fandral kept flirting with Sif, so she was preoccupied while Volstagg, Hogun, and I started a drinking contest with each other. I was determined to out drink both of them even though Volstagg was much bigger than me. No one paid attention to Loki drinking with (Y/N) alone. He whispered little things into her ear and she smiled. He didn’t touch her, but his fingers were always inches away from her. The 3rd pub was extremely crowded. It was so late in the night that many people were drunk, singing songs, and fighting all around us. No one had noticd who we were or how old we were.

“Sif ended up sitting on Fandral’s and my lap. Hogun went home after not being able to hold his own very well, and (Y/N) sat in Loki’s lap. He kept whispering things into her ear, and she would whisper right back. Loki had his arms all over her. Sif didn’t look too happy at what was happening. She asked the pair several times what they were talking about, but neither would reveal the subject. Then, as we went home, the sun was rising. Volstagg carried a passed out Fandral on his horse, Sif was falling asleep on mine. Loki had (Y/N) on his horse. Both of them were drunk and laughing. I remember watching him kiss her as he escorted her home. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was hers.” Thor smiled at the warm memory.

“What else do you remember about her?” Natasha said. She and Steve became excited to hear more of his memories. Tony stayed back, not yet enchanted by Thor’s words or stories about Asgard.

“So much,” he began. “After the pub night, she was around the palace more. As much as I enjoy Sif’s company, (Y/N)’s company was much more pleasant. She was the complete antithesis of Sif. Where Sif would train for days on end with the Warriors Three and me, Lady (Y/N) would spend her days dancing, reading, and have etiquette training. At balls, she would dance with such grace and ease. Her conversations were always interesting and knowledgable. Once I jumped in one of her ‘famous conversations’ at the wrong time.”

“Was it about something dirty?” Tony asked out of the blue hoping to find interest.

“No, it was about something disgusting, I’m afraid. All I remember is her describing how she cleaned horse shit off the gown she was wearing. She thrived at balls. I did not get to dance with her as much as I wanted to, but when I did, it was always wonderful. Loki would hardly let any other man dance with her. He became very possessive after an incident.”

“Incident?” Steve arched his eyebrow.

“(Y/N) finished her education, and therefore it was time for her to find a suitor, at last according to her parents. At one particular ball, Loki noticed a young man dancing with her for most of the night. He was the son of a respected member of the council. At the end of the night, the young man kissed her cheek and told her how beautiful she was. She blushed. Loki was furious. His face went red, and he kept pacing back and forth until he stormed off. Later that night, (Y/N) came up to me and asked where Loki was. We searched for him, but there was no trace. (Y/N) felt worried and slightly hurt. The next day I hear my father scolding Loki for playing a nasty trick on the councilman’s son.

“What did he do?” Tony smiled, suddenly interested.

“He gave the poor boy a horse’s nose with hooves to match.” The four Avengers laughed out loud, and Tony sat with Steve and Nat to hear more. They shared their drinks with each other and Thor continued on. “Loki would read with her in the library. He drank tea with her every day. He dueled with weaker opponents to make himself look stronger in front of her. They had a very strong friendship. (Y/N)’s famous conversations at balls turned into Loki and (Y/N)’s famous conversations. Everyone who knew them thought they would be a great match for the other. It was very hard to get him to admit his feelings for her.”

“He was scared of rejection wasn’t he?” Steve interjected.

“Yes,” Thor answered right away. “I don’t know why. I tried telling him to just tell her or she feels the same way, but he never believed me. I wanted to tell (Y/N) myself, but then I didn’t have to. My father took us on more dangerous missions and places. An adjacent kingdom was going through a civil war. My father thought it was time for the Warriors Three, Sif, Loki and I to fight in our first war. My mother and (Y/N) were so terrified. My mother argued with my father up and down for two weeks about it. She even threatened to go on a hunger strike, but it was time. We had to do this. Both of them had a very hard time saying their goodbyes. (Y/N) didn’t look Loki in the eye as he said goodbye to her. He misunderstood it as apathy. What I did not know until later was that (Y/N) grew more scared every day for Loki. She would read his favorite works and she wore green hoping it would bring him luck. When we came home, she hugged all of us very hard and crying for joy until she saw Loki.

“She stopped everything and ran to him crying even harder. She grabbed him and kissed him in front of everyone. I think that’s when Loki knew. We had a small celebration that night, and sometime during the middle of it, (Y/N) and Loki disappeared. Fandral found them in the gardens. Sif wanted me to come along and spy on them because after all this time, she did not believe Loki’s intentions to be good. And she was proved wrong. Loki confessed his love for her, and they embraced. It was endearing, and I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Nat said not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “Of your brother?”

“He had true love, something I did not understand or want yet, but he had it,” Thor continued. “Loki was always much more mature, level-headed, and intelligent than I was. Of course, it would make sense for him to find something like that before I did. But he was happy. They were both so happy after that. In fact, I caught them sneaking into his room that very night. She did not come out until the next morning.”

“You mean?” one of the three said.

“Oh yes, Loki made me promise not to tell Sif or anyone for that matter. He begged me not to, and (Y/N) ran away from his room before anyone could put the pieces together. They were deep in love. The day he asked for her hand was so glorious. It was her name day, and he made an intricate puzzle box that when it opened it revealed a beautiful ring and he recited a poem to go along with it. She said yes, and I gained a sister. There was no one more honorable or more worthy than she was. Everything was so wonderful until the Frost Giants.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the time you were exiled here?” Tony asked. “I remember your files.” Thor nodded his head.

“During that time, Loki found out his true parentage, and that Odin would never give him the throne. He seized Asgard as his own, and (Y/N)’s parents became scared of their impending marriage. So, they hid her away. Sif and the warriors three helped, all of them in fear of what Loki would do to her.”

“Do to her? Did he threaten to hurt her?” Nat asked.

“No, he would never hurt her, but I was the only one to believe that. He became more violent. More unhinged. Sif would tell me how (Y/N) would cry every night because she only wanted to help Loki and that he needed her. She didn’t understand that he succumbed to the darkness around him. He sent out parties to find where she was hiding. Eventually, he had her parents thrown in the dungeon because they would not say. Then, our fight happened, and Loki killed himself, or so we thought. (Y/N) became so heartbroken, she considered suicide as well.

“Sif would visit her every day, and her parents had arranged for her to marry someone else. Until Loki was spotted on Midgard.”

“Germany,” Steve said.

“Yes, Heimdall burst into the palace informing everyone about this. Odin immediately allowed me to go to Midgard and try to bring him home. As I left, I had hoped to bring back my brother. What I did not expect was to lose a sister when I came back.”

“She attempted—

“No,” Thor looked to the ground in defeat. “She was taken by Thanos. After Loki failed him, Thanos’ men were seen at (Y/N)’s residence. They took her, and she wasn’t seen again. No one could find her, not even Heimdall. Sif went on a rampage. I have never seen her so angry or so saddened. My heart broke to think my almost sister was taken so suddenly, and I let her slip through my fingers. Loki had no idea until his trial after New York.”

“Loki didn’t know she was taken?” Nat asked. “He had no idea at all?”

“No. I will always remember the look on his face when he found out. He was terrified. However, this did not stop my father from rubbing this loss in his face.”

“And you haven’t seen her since until tonight?” Nat replied.

“Yes,” Thor nodded. “We all assumed she died. That Thanos murdered her as punishment for Loki’s failures. Loki was sick to his stomach for weeks in his cell, or so I am told. To see her here, to know she is alive.” Thor’s voice trailed off.

“What do you want to do now?” Steve asked. “You wanted to explain before we took action.”

“Lady (Y/N) is a kind, loving soul,” Thor said. “I don’t know if she still loves Loki, but please do not place judgment on her. She is good. Please do not punish her because of Loki.”

“Done, but I want to ask her a few questions about Thanos and where she’s been,” Tony took the last sip of his second drink.

“And we must tell Loki that she is alive and here.” Thor ordered, sounding like his father again.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Nat said.

“This woman is everything he ever loved. Everything he ever wanted is her,” Thor said. “Before New York, before he found out his true heritage, there was a time where he would have gladly given up the throne and power for her. I love this woman as my own sister, and I am so relived she is safe. Please extend that courtesy to my brother. He deserves to know his love is alive.”

The Avengers took it to Fury, explaining the situation. SHIELD had their say and laid out rules. Loki had to be in chains, escorted by Thor at all times, and he must obey every order given to him. Loki was brought to the Tower somewhat confused, but apathetic. Loki donned some Midgardian-like clothing. He did not know what to expect until he reached his brother’s mournful face.

“Did that old oaf finally die?” Loki’s venomous words made Thor inhale sharply.

“That oaf is our father—

“Your father,” Loki corrected. “So, did he or did he not?”

“This is not about the Allfather, Loki,” Thor tried to explain, hoping his brother would listen. “This is about someone entirely different.”

“Who then?” Loki asked. The chains clinked slightly as he moved. Loki smiled wickedly. “Is it your Jane? Or your friends? Hm?” Thor frowned at Loki.

“This is about Lady (Y/N),” Thor said. Loki froze. The wicked smile deteriorated and anger grew in its place. His nostrils flared. His eyes stared daggers at him.

“What about Lady (Y/N)?” Loki spat. “Do you wish for me to remind you of what I know? Is that why you brought me here? So you can show your little friends how everything is my fault again? Do you wish to gloat how your lover is safe and sound while—

“She is alive, Loki,” Thor cut in.

“What?”

“(Y/N) is alive,” Thor pointed to the room behind him. Behind a glass wall lay (Y/N). Her hair spread out on the pillow. She breathed steadily, and all cuts seemed to be healed. Her body covered in blankets.

“I found her during this last mission,” Thor explained, hoping to ease the shock. “I don’t know how she got there, but she was there. Loki, she was so cold. Her whole body was ice.” Loki stopped all talking at once. His breathing hitched, and he started walking towards the glass wall. He dragged the chains behind him and studied her. The way she slept, the way she breathed, her hair, her hands, everything. Tears formed in his eyes.

“Thor,” Loki said in a low voice. “I may have caused you pain in the past, even threaten your loved ones, but this? This is cruel. This is a very cruel trick, brother.”

“This is no trick.”

“She died, Thor!” Loki shouted at him. “(Y/N) was murdered! She was taken from her safe abode and was murdered because of me! I failed! This was Thanos’ punishment! I failed him! I murdered her!” Loki’s crying hushed everyone around them.

“Loki,” Thor started. “I thought she died too, but look at her. That is her. I know it is. We found her during a mission. She is alive. I assure you that is her in there.” Thor took his brother’s shoulder and massaged it. Loki pressed his forehead against the glass.

“I have to know. I need to make sure it’s her, please,” Thor looked at Tony and Steve for clearance. Steve immediately nodded his head. Tony exhaled.

“Let him in, Tony,” Pepper said quietly behind him. Tony nodded his head as well, giving in to the pressure. Thor escorted Loki into the room. They both stepped carefully closer to her bed. A steady beep of the heart monitor and Loki’s nervous breathing were the only things that could be heard. He reached the side of her bed, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. After the gentle touch, Loki put his hand down. His lip quivered, and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. Loki broke down over her, sobbing hard.

It always breaks my heart to hear the story of Eric and Dylan getting tampons covered in ketchup thrown at them. I know how Dylan reacted when he came home that day because Sue talked about it in her book. I will always wonder what Eric did that day he came home from school that day I wouldn’t be surprised if he went to him room and cried. It’s just heartbreaking that they had to go through that.

Ten giving us “Cherry Bomb” spoilers since 170320: “If u happy and u know just clap your hands”

4

these are kind of old and kind of blurred but.