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absentia-if · 10 months

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OOOH! Got this one fromna different IF. But! ROs reaction to drunk MC walking in and just gurgling "Shhh Dont tell *insert RO name here* I love them~" just being heavily drunk xD

Kade/Kara:

"--I love them."

Your dopey smile, paired with the slightly glazed look in your eyes, tells them all they need to know about your current mental state. Hazel eyes take in the almost serene expression, one they hadn't seen in so long, and a smile of their own comes unbidden to their lips.

"I'm certain they love you too, MC," they murmur, mindful of the way you were starting to sway on your feet. "Why don't we get you settled in for the night, okay? You wouldn't want to get injured before you tell them you love them, right?"

At your responding nod, K takes you by the forearm and leads you in the direction of where they hope spare bedrooms are located. Deliberating on if they'd bring this up to you tomorrow and ultimately deciding that they won't-- not now, not in this manner. Everything will happen, in the way it's meant to, given enough time.

Michael/Margot:

The sight of your drunken face, paired with the slurred speech, causes a sense of déjà vu to crash over them; azure blue eyes narrow in concentration, trying to place where the feeling had risen from, but, like the wind, it slips through their fingertips every time they're close.

"Don't tell M--"

At the mention of their name, they react faster than they can think, whipping their hand out to cover your mouth; ignoring the bolt of electricity they feel prickle their skin at the contact. They don't know why, barring the obvious, but it felt wrong to hear whatever you were about to say while you were so intoxicated. If you wouldn't tell them while you were sober, then they shouldn't hear it while you're drunk. Even if their heart was screaming at them to let you speak.

"Let's get you some water and a place to rest for the night, okay?" Taking you gently by the arm, they begin to lead you toward the guest bedrooms. "You can tell me everything, and anything, you'd like to in the morning."

Blaine/Blaire:

"You do, huh?"

A wide smile stretches across B's lips at your admission. The warmth of their gaze almost let it take on a honey-hue, dazzling gold overtaking the brown. They're not certain what manner exactly you meant, after all the saying wasn't uncommon between you both, but the context, and the events that had continuously happened up until now, give them a good indication, which causes their heart to skip a beat. However, they weren't about to let you confess everything while you were so drunk-- above anything else, you were still their best friend, and they were going to protect you.

"Why don't we talk about this in the morning, okay?" They gently nudge your shoulder, before pushing you down onto the couch they had previously been reclined in. "You know how you get without your beauty sleep."

Wren/Wynn:

A hard look flits over their face at the confession. They're more than aware you didn't mean to tell them but, barring their innate concern about how forthcoming you are when drunk, that doesn't make it any better. The knowledge that your feelings were real, that you felt anything for them to begin with, was troubling in itself-- becoming a nightmare when they take into account the way their heart had skipped a beat when they heard the words.

"That's a mistake, MC," they reply, even though they're well aware you won't remember this in the morning. "One that I refuse to let you make."

Standing, they take in your swaying form and an almost dopey smile stretched across your lips, and sigh, they know they couldn't leave you by yourself. Not now. Or ever, their mind unhelpfully supplies.

"Let's get you somewhere safe for the night."

Nicholas/Natalie:

They didn't hear you correctly, they couldn't have heard you correctly. There's no way that you felt the same way about them. It had to be the drinks you've been knocking back since arriving at the party-- something N had only come to because their best friend and you would be attending; parties had never, and will never, be their scene.

"You--" Their mind blanks on what to say, well aware that you were well past the levels of being considered sober. Wringing their hands together, lightly tugging at their sweatshirt while doing so, N offers you a strained smile. "You should get some rest, MC. I think you've had too much to drink."

Before you could protest, N takes you by the arm and begins to lead you towards a quieter area for you to be able to lay your head down. Desperately trying to ignore the way your words kept echoing within their head. You didn't mean it, they think. You couldn't have meant it.

Even if they want nothing more than for that to be false.

#absentia #ask #asks #kade lewis #kara lewis #michael steele #margot steele #blaine ellis #blaire ellis #wren cassidy #wynn cassidy #nicholas paxton #natalie paxton #scenario asks #somestuffonmymind

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quitealotofsodapop · 5 months

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Since Dasheng had a nightmare over the thought of having multiples, how does he feel about the twins? Zhanshi and the others sounds excited about it at least.

Referencing: Dasheng's nightmare. >:)

This monkey is Terrified.

By this point he's babysat the Gold and Silver Demon Twins, and he still has the calabash burns from the incident. So this monkey dad scared at the possibility of more than one chaos infant at once.

The HiB fam have also experienced Xiaoyun's tense hatching/first few years. The preemie cub required a lot of attention and extra care in the first months. When news of the twins comes about, Xiaoyun is about three years old and finally starting to run around on his own. The fam are very proud and very tired.

Then while chilling around Kingdom of Women on an adventure, they notice something off about Zhanshi's reflection in the river water...

Dasheng faints when the explanation clicks. Zhanshi shrieks with joy.

More so because they didn't know they could make kids. Being "outside the natural order" (as the Buddha explains in Jttw) doesnt really give you much idea of how you're *supposed* to reproduce. Both monkeys thought it was randomly-spawning Stone Eggs only.

Then again, considering how *ahem* amourous ReboundedHeroes are on eachother, Dasheng is relieved only one of them got pregnant. (Except Pigsy when he fell in the river, but that was resolved).

Dasheng is scared. But more for his mate. Zhanshi has always been his right-hand warrior - and to see her experience the unpredicable symptoms of pregnancy freaks him out.

Zhanshi: *starts sobbing* HiB fam: *all in attack-mode* Dasheng, ready to murder: "WHO HURT MY WIFE!?" Zhanshi, sniffling/laughing: "Sorry love. There was a dead wasp inside this fig and it made me sad." Dasheng: *picks up the discarded fig and glares/eye-lazers it to dust* Zhanshi, cravings activated: "...now I want barbeque." Pigsy: *concerned squeal?!*

She also gets very fatigued, a far cry from her usual self. She essentially spends the last few weeks bedridden from tiredness, bored out of her mind while her mate paces their home like a guard dog. Pigsy is a surprisingly great help during this time, pulling out the pipa for some music and stories whenever the warrior feels too tired to read.

At the end of the day, Dasheng would be happy with any number of infants if it they and Zhanshi come out of it healthy and happy.

The twins come out, surprisingly not as copies of their LEM, but as a duo of little coconut macaroons. Like their baba, their baby fur is a messy mix of white and brown streaks. Its only when they get older does their hair darken to a deep red-auburn. Their six ears and deep violet eyes still give clear indication who their mother is.

They're both curious and chirpy, and are already trying to climb over their big siblings (Liuer and Shui Lian were delighted). Xiaoyun is introduced cautiously, and immediately curls around the new babies in a mixture of wonder and protectiveness.

Dasheng cries (and faints) with relief that his twins are not Jin and Yin-level monsters. Like Xiaoyun before them, The Twins have their dear baba wrapped around their little fingers the moment they reach out and grab at his face. Dasheng can do nothing but pepper his growing family with kisses. X3

I feel like these twins end up named after nuts/trees because of their furs. Or maybe the themed route (Liuer = little flow/floats, Shui Lian = water lily, + Xiaoyun = little cloud), and their named them after water phenomenon like rain or snow depending on how chaotic Zhanshi's magic made the weather XD

#monkey king hero is back #hib au #reboundedheroes #pregnancy tw #jttw inspo fan children #jttw inspo ocs #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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Congrats on the 1+k followers! I've only recently found you but I enjoy your opinions and the way you write <3

I was wondering if, for the prompt fic ideas, you would be interested in writing Sylvie and Loki exchanging magic lessons in an enchantment for enchantment kind of way.

I imagine them bickering each other with "Pff... That is too easy." and "Come on, that didn't take me so long to learn...", but they would also encourage with some "I know you can do it!". (oh god, now I picture them teaming in some prank against Thor... xD)

Thank you so much, @enabi-seira. Sorry this is a few days late, but it took me awhile to get going. Also my intention was to have something kinda cute and snarky but it ... didn't really end up that way, bc of who I am as a person. I hope you enjoy, regardless.

Summary: Sylvie gives Loki a lesson in enchantment Word Count: 2340 Author's notes: More or less inspired by the blanket scene, but with less awkward and more soul-bearing, bc well, why not.

It wasn’t until she let him into her mind that Loki saw himself in Sylvie.

At first, he thought it hadn’t worked, because all he felt was nothing. There was no sound, no air. But when he opened his eyes he found himself in what, at first glance, was Idunn’s orchard on Asgard. He stood at the center of the orchard, underneath the shade of one of the largest trees. In the distance, he could clearly see the golden spires of Valaskjalf and, looking up, Loki felt a twist of homesickness so strong it nearly knocked him off of his feet.

It took him a moment to get ahold of himself and, when he did and began to take a closer look, he realized that he wasn’t on Asgard at all. The orchard did not have enough trees and no golden apples swung from their branches. Valaskjalf’s spires did not glint in the sun; the gold was instead dull and flat. Everything, in fact, was much too dull and flat.

A chill broke out across Loki’s skin because while he was not on Asgard, he did know this place. He’d built it himself, had begun planting the trees and laying the foundations of deadened grass and dirt when he was still just a child. It was his in-between space, the pocket between dimensions into which he retreated when everything else was simply too much.

“How do you know this place?” he asked. His voice, rough with confusion, seemed far too loud with nothing to anchor it. “It’s mine.”

“It’s ours,” Sylvie corrected. Her voice came from somewhere to his left; Loki turned and saw her approaching, dressed not in the black and green attire he’d grown so familiar with but in a deep purple gown traditional of Asgardian formalwear. Her hair was longer, the top done up somewhat elaborately in several slim braids.

“I thought your enchantment would bring me to a memory,” he said.

“What makes you think this isn’t a memory?”

Loki opened his mouth and then closed it again, choosing instead to merely gesture at the void surrounding them. “Because this place isn’t real. I created it. As an -”

“An escape,” she finished for him. She’d been looking out over the orchard but now she turned her gaze on him, something sad and knowing behind her green eyes. She nodded. “So did I. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It’s as real as you and I are, and I remember it.”

Goosebumps tickled his arms and the back of his neck. Loki looked away, turning in a half circle as he took in the sight of what he used to simply call the gray place, a place he’d thought had been lost; he’d not thought of it in years, could no longer remember quite where it was. The grey place had all but collapsed into the recesses of his mind, along with countless other memories he’d collected and subsequently lost along the way.

Loki looked up at the tree that still shaded them from the sun, although the sun itself was not very bright, nor warm. Everything was so still. Absently, Loki reached out and swiped his fingers along one of the lower branches. “No apples,” he said.

“Nothing grows here.”

“The space grows,” he countered. He plucked a few leaves from the branch and curled his fingers around them. “Grew. Each time I came here, it seemed bigger. It stopped being Asgard and grew into somewhere else.”

“It didn’t really, though, did it,” she said. She walked around him, circling the tree trunk. “Get bigger. It was only that we got lonelier.”

Loki looked at her sharply, but found he couldn’t refute her words. “You were much lonelier than I,” he said instead.

She shot him one of her Sylvie looks, her expression both indignant at what she perceived as a slight, and annoyed at his being right. She disliked when he figured things out about her, but he’d seen that expression more and more as the days passed, which meant that he was getting closer to her core.

Either that, or he was just annoying her more frequently.

“What makes you think so?” she challenged.

He gestured vaguely at the space around them. “Yours is farther along than mine was.” Now that he was getting used to this - both being inside of her head, and grounded firmly in the gray place - he could see the differences. There were more pathways in the orchard, fuller tree branches. In the distance, past the palace, he could make out the beginnings of a rainbow bridge. All things Loki had thought of bringing to the gray place, but adolescence grew into adulthood and Loki created new hiding places, buried deeper in the spaces between worlds.

Sylvie’s gray place felt like a place that had been visited often. Perhaps she even still visited, escaping through dimensions as easily as she slipped through apocalypses.

Her features looked pinched as she dug her fingers into the trunk’s bark, pulling at a loose layer. “When did you build yours?” she asked, instead of answering directly. “Start building it, I mean.”

Loki shrugged, leaning against the trunk. “I don’t know. I was young.”

“Tell me,” she pressed.

He glanced over at her and, despite himself, smirked. “Are we exploring your mind, or mine?”

Sylvie arched an eyebrow and then her features relaxed. “Beats me,” she admitted. “Seems they’re one and the same, doesn’t it?”

Loki’s nod was slow, thoughtful. He looked up, toward the endless gray sky. “I remember having nightmares as a child,” he said, and wasn’t sure if he was answering her question, or simply speaking in order to fill the silence. Her presence seemed to have that effect on him, regardless of whether they were together in the world or together in her (their?) mind.

“It was always cold in those dreams,” he went on. “Bitter, the kind of cold that gets under your skin. It was cold and it was dark, and there were never any monsters or dragons or - not the kinds of things children tend to have nightmares about. For me, it was that there was nothing. Just myself, and the cold, and the dark, and this intimate knowing that no matter what I did or how loudly I screamed, no one would ever hear me.”

She’d circled around the trunk again as he spoke, and now she leaned against it next to him, sliding down until she was settled on the grass at the base. “I don’t think I had nightmares, not like yours,” she said, “but I always had the sense of being wrong, somehow. When my parents told me the truth about what I was, and where I’d come from, I thought it would make the wrongness stop.”

“But it didn’t,” Loki guessed as he sat down on the ground beside her.

She looked over at him, meeting his gaze directly before she shook her head. “It’s in me still. At least now I know why.”

Loki didn’t say anything. They were sitting close enough together that he’d only have to lean in a bit and their shoulders would be touching, but Loki let the observation go without acting on it. Instead, he pulled at a few blades of grass, gaze settling out toward the far end of the orchard which, were this the real Asgard, would have led directly into Frigga’s gardens.

Instead of lingering on that thought, Loki turned his attention to the enchantment itself. It was very strange, the method she’d learned. Their bodies - their real bodies - were out there in the physical world, holding hands to establish the physical connection they’d needed for the enchantment to work, but they were also in here, and he could feel the ground beneath him and the the tree bark digging into his spine and the solidity of the space she took up beside him. He would have assumed that sliding into someone else’s mind would feel like a dream or a vision - not quite real.

“That’s when I began creating this place,” he said, realizing that he’d started telling her about his nightmares for a reason. “To escape after the dreams.” He’d chosen the warmest, safest place he knew then, which was the orchard, and he’d begun creating his duplicate.

“I don’t even really know where it was,” he admitted, with a short laugh. “All I had to do was think of it and, suddenly, I’d be there.”

It had started with the nightmares, but somewhere along the way it had become much more than that. Loki could remember disappearing into the gray place after arguments, or when he was frustrated and felt lost, or even just when all of the things inside of him - the dark things he’d never been able to firmly identify - became far too much and he felt like he would explode from the sheer force of them pressing against his skin from the inside, seeking a way out.

In Sylvie’s mind, all of the details were exact and clear, just as he remembered and more. Loki felt something hollow and cold in his core as it sank in - really sank in - that he and Sylvie were variants of the same person. The same soul, with the same dark things inside. What’s me is you, and what’s you is me.

The full weight of the realization should not have made him feel so lonely, but it did. For the first time since he’d met her, looking at Sylvie felt like looking in the mirror, the way one did when he was examining himself from every angle, identifying and hating every flaw he discovered.

“I know that look,” she said, and Loki blinked. He’d been staring at her, he realized, and felt his cheeks warm. “It’s hitting you, isn’t it? How we’re the same.”

Loki nodded. “It’s this place. I was remembering why I made it, and what drove me to disappear here. It must have been the same for you.”

“Let’s see.” Sylvie drew her knees up a little, adjusting her skirts so that they wouldn’t drag against the grass. “The wrongness of existing. Falling short, no matter how hard I tried. Always found wanting, compared to my brother. And, yes, loneliness.”

“Thor,” Loki said. His voice sounded so flat, even to his own ears, that Sylvie shot him a strange glance. He tugged at a few more blades of grass, pressing his lips together. He’d never asked her about her Thor, because he didn’t want to talk about his - the one who had ceased to exist when the TVA first arrested Loki in the desert and erased his reality, along with everyone he’d ever known and loved. Versions of them existed, of course - the ones who walked the sacred timeline, exactly where they were supposed to be, but those versions belonged to another Loki - a far away Loki.

He had his reasons for not bringing up Thor, but he didn’t know why Sylvie, likewise, had kept her Thor to herself. “Tell me about him,” he heard himself say, dropping the blades of grass from his hand. “Your Thor.”

“I don’t remember much of him, either,” Sylvie admitted. “More blips, like my parents. He’s more of a feeling than anything else - a presence. He took care of me; he pushed me to be better. I could never measure up to him, but I remember he wasn’t the one who was comparing. He loved me.”

“Yes.” Loki was hardly aware of speaking until he heard his own voice. “Mine, too.”

They exchanged a long look, and then Sylvie cleared her throat and turned her attention to the grass. “Could do with a bit more green,” she remarked. “It’s awfully dull, isn’t it?”

“I could -”

But she was already pressing her fingers into the dirt and, as Loki watched, the blades began to darken and bloom as lush grass sprouted outward, rolling from the palm of Sylvie’s hand to stretch in every direction until all of the dead grass had been made new again. Only then did Sylvie pull her hand back.

“Not bad, right?”

“Not bad,” he agreed. “Still feels very plain, though. I’d have added a little shading, a little variety. Perhaps a few more shrubs or rose bushes.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

The corners of Loki’s mouth tilted upward. He extended a closed fist, focusing, and then spread open his hand to reveal a tangled ball of colorful magic, blues and greens and yellows and reds all flickering and shimmering. Wordlessly, Loki tossed the ball; it landed several feet away and dissolved into tiny, colorful flowers, which spread swiftly over the grass.

Loki glanced at Sylvie, quickly enough that he caught the awe on her features before she realized he was looking; immediately, boredom swept over her face. She lifted one shoulder, carelessly. “Where are the rose bushes?”

“You are impossible,” Loki informed her.

“So you keep telling me. Come on.” She pushed herself to her feet and extended a hand, which Loki took without pause. “Lesson’s over for today.”

A split-second later, the gray place was gone entirely; once again, there was air to breathe and tiny sounds in the distance. Loki’s head throbbed; he opened his eyes and let go of Sylvie’s hand in order to press his against his temples. “Ow.”

“Yeah, return trip’s a little rough until you get used to it.” Slyvie - once again looking like Sylvie, draped in green and black - leaned back, watching with some amusement while Loki squeezed his eyes shut, rubbed his temples, and tried not to throw up. “Maybe next time we’ll journey into your mind. Probably’ll pack less of a punch for you.”

“I can handle pain,” Loki countered, finally letting go of his head. “My mind is off-limits. We’ve been over this.”

“For now,” Sylvie agreed.

“For always.” Loki arched his eyebrow at her. “Now. What lesson shall we tackle next?”

#various disclaimers: i'm basing my interpretation on how enchantment works on sylvie and c-20's scene #where there were clearly existing in *a place* together from c-20's memories #no idea if i've gotten the whole of it right or not but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also be gentle i'm rusty re: writing quality #charlotte writes #follower celebration prompt series #loki+sylvie(bffs)#loki pokey artichokey #loki fic #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki tv series spoilers

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