#If it's in quotes it means it's based on a fic which will be linked in the board

[bg-brainrot]

To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick. 

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities. 

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally. 

Alone. 

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence. 

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry. 

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

[actual-changeling]

I have written many meta posts and s3-theories, and read even more, but I got hit by an idea I have not seen before. (If there is another post, please link it!)

After vibrating for an hour and losing my mind in my dms, I have no scraped together enough brain cells to present what is probably my first actual 'main-plot meta'.

Welcome to another edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner, today with a title to honour Crowley's James Bond obsession and the possibility of another heaven heist.

I give you:

From Jesus with Love - You Will Live Twice

Now, let's get right into it.

I think Neil might have told us more about the main s3 plotline in the announcement article than we previously thought. We all got stuck on 'they're not talking'—for good reason—but it is the part before that which has been bugging me ever since then.

The plans are going wrong—and this time that is a problem for earth and humanity. Turning that around, it means that whatever that plan consists of would be the way to go and beneficial for everyone, the opposite of the main plot of s1.

"They need to prevent the Second Coming (SC)" is pretty much the only and most popular idea I have seen, hundreds of fics and metas and whatnot have been written about it, but I think there's a good chance we're wrong. If we're not, well, I will honestly just be happy to be watching season 3.

Whatever the Metatron is planning will have negative consequences for everyone, or as Michael puts it: "And so… it ends. Everything ends. Time and the world is over, and we begin Eternity… forever and ever."

It sounds very much like Apocalypse #1 - Same Old Plan, same expected result, yet if we look at different interpretations of scripture we find that the SC is not entirely about complete destruction and death for all of humanity—it is about creating a new world/migrating to the kingdom of God.

This is taken from the Wikipedia article about the SC

Resurrection and life in a world to come are a direct contradiction to the result Michael is explaining—total annihilation of humanity.

Now, I am neither religious in any way nor have I ever received any sort of biblical education. Luckily, Christians seem to love talking about the bible because there are dozens of bible website to wade through. If I get anything wrong, please point it out, I have never touched a bible in my life.

So, after reading many, many quotes by a bunch of different guys, I tried to create a somewhat coherent picture of what the SC might look like based on the assumption that the end result is positive. I will talk about how they can be interpreted more in-depth later, otherwise this would turn into a string-net very fast.

Additionally, we can also see where these points overlap with the statement Jimbriel gave in the bookshop in episode three.

What is Jesus' job description?

only God knows when and how exactly it will begin/happen, no one else does, including Jesus and the Metatron

a lot of different catastrophes are mentioned or quoted as something Jesus said, like earthquakes and storms -> Jimbriel mentioned a tempest and great storms

there is also the line "All these are the beginning of birth pains." Birth pains dictate that there will be a birth—birth of the world to come perhaps?

dead people will be resurrected/leave their graves so that they too can be judged (I'd say participate in it but that sounds like the Second Coming is a summer camp activity)

there are also mentions of stars and the heavens in general falling from the sky and the sun going dark -> Jimbriel also mentions darkness as one of the signs

great lamentations, as Jimbriel says, are also a part of many different passages, with humans mourning the world as it was

the Lord will descent with the voice of an Archangel and the sound of a trumpet/the trumpet of God; the grammatical structure of that sentence seems to be interpreted differently depending on who you ask, but the voices of angels/an Archangel and some sort of trumpet are common terms

once everyone is in heaven/wherever the 'main even' will take place, a judgement call will be made for every single person in relation to the book of life, which decides whether they will be punished forever or not (one passage talks about a lake of fire and mentions it several times in a row)

And this is where it gets tricky. To figure out what the SC looks like, we first need to understand a) what the Metatron's capabilities are, b) what he has to lose, and c) what exactly would be a threat to him.

If you ask me, all of this comes down to the Metatron wanting to stay and be in power for eternity with full control over angels so he can do as he please, aka keeping the system running as it is.

We know the book of life (bol) is a thing in the Good Omens universe, whether it does what Michael said is an entirely different question. So far, we have also only got confirmation that hell collects and tortures souls—in such large amounts that they are understaffed—while heaven looks completely empty.

The Metatron runs heaven as an institution, he seems to be the highest power any of the angels have access to and the one they defer to. He refers to himself as the voice of God and combines judge, jury and executioner, making him one great celestial dictator.

From what we know of hell, they do things a lot more democratically, having different councils, dukes, and ranks that are responsible for different levels of command.

We also know that that the Metatron wants the world to end, his goals can probably be summarized as the statement Michael makes, which would leave him in charge without any opposing forces.

We also also know that he sees Crowley and Aziraphale as a threat—why exactly remains a mystery for now—and that the success of his plan hinges on having a Supreme Archangel (SA) he can control. Gabriel decided to become princess of hell and Beez' sugar baby, so he was out of the equation, and after the Armageddon disaster, I don't think he wants to risk failing because of an unfamiliarity with earth (plus, y'know, getting our two idiots away from the plan).

It's interesting to me that right at the end, he says to Aziraphale "We call it the Second Coming"—call, not it is or it will be, CALL. We know that nothing Neil writes is a coincidence, definitely not with such an important line.

Just because you CALL something a specific name doesn't mean it IS what you call it, e.g. Aziraphale calls Crowley a foul fiend when we know he very much isn't.

The Metatron is selling his plan as part of the "Great/Ineffable Plan", so any questions can be blocked by saying it's God's will, it's ineffable. Whatever his plan is, he hides it behind the concept of the Second Coming, which angels know just enough about to understand the basics without having in-depth knowledge of what exactly it entails.

It is a good fucking strategy, I'll give him that, and it WORKS because angels—even if they have doubts—do not question. They simply don't; fear of punishment and millennia of conditioning have left them in a horrible place. When they encounter something unknown, their response is "I already knew that" as to not ask questions.

Crowley questions, we know that, and Aziraphale, ohhhhh, Aziraphale ALSO questions, but he does it in a less dangerous and obvious way. The Metatron is vastly underprepared for that.

(Side note: That alone would be its own meta post, but the gist is that he questions heaven's plans and then adjusts his assumptions of what God might want to what he WANTS God to want, e.g. Job, the Arch)

To summarize everything I just said, the Metatron wants to do what Armageddon failed to do—destroy earth and the universe—so he can be supreme dictator of all remaining celestial beings and gorge himself on power.

But instead of calling it his Big Evil Plan, he calls it the Second Coming, making everyone play along without resistance.

We cycle aaaaall the way back to the sentence I quoted—the ACTUAL plans are going wrong since the Metatron's would mean total destruction.

But what is the SC supposed to be if not the Apocalypse 2.0?

When I look at all the different aspects of the SC and assume a positive outcome, then the end result to me would be a new world that is pretty much like the old world, or maybe even literally the old world but with any destruction reversed. Heaven and hell get dissolved since now that everyone has been "judged", they as institutions are no longer needed, they have fulfilled their purpose.

No more judgement means there is no reason to keep track anymore, so why do you need to run celestial corporations whose only job is doing exactly that? You don't—and THAT is what I believe is the biggest perceived threat to the Metatron, losing full control over everyone and everything, losing his position, his title, and whatever else he has.

On top of that, Good Omens has told us again and again that God doesn't seem to give a fuck about good and evil anymore, and that without heaven and hell being all wrapped up in it, humanity would have 100% free will without any consequences.

Maybe the BoL is empty, maybe it isn't real, maybe Jesus stole it to straighten a wobbly table, who knows. There is a chance it is what Michael says, but I would admittedly find that a bit. too obvious and boring since it would boil the plot down to "they save their own asses again" and not "they save humanity at all cost".

Regarding Crowley and Aziraphale's role in this—I have Thoughts TM but those definitely need their own post. In short, they have to get the SC back on track, the real one.

-

If you have made it this far, thank you for working through what I hope are more or less coherent rambles. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Questions? Thoughts? Corrections? Expansions and additions?

Feel free to add to this post however you like (and I can't believe I have to mentions this but if you clown on my post or behave like an asshole you will be blocked).

[ckret2]

If you don't mind my asking, what is your outlining process like? Is it a bulleted list of scenes, or paragraphs describing what you want to happen? How thorough is it, and how much do you just figure out as you go? I'm about to attempt to write a truly longform fanfic for the first time, and I've been a fan of yours long enough that I feel you probably have some sage wisdom on the matter.

You know what, I get this question with some regularity, so instead of trying to remember how I explained it last time, I'll just drop one of my outlines so I can link this the next time someone asks. Here's my full outline for chapters 33/34/35. Copy/pasted from my plotting sessions in discord with my writing buddies.

This is in two parts. The first part is my actual outline, which I ALWAYS had open while actually writing the chapters—I recommend open my outline and the finish chapters side-by-side so you can see just how closely the chapter follows the outline. My outline is VERY LONG and VERY DETAILED, down to exactly what happens in the conversations; this is because I've found that, for me, "write out THE ENTIRE chapter WITH all actions & dialogue (but writing it super badly)" + "writing the chapter well (but not needing to think about actions & dialogue AT ALL") is much, much faster than "do a simple outline (but figure out the action, dialogue, and how to write it well all at once)".

And the second part is a bunch of snippets from other plotting sessions where I was figuring out how to fit the tooth fairy arc into the whole fic, so you can see how I work on overarching plot lines.

Anywhere there's a "####" divider is a separation between different plotting sessions on different days. Anywhere text is in "[brackets]" it's either a paraphrase of something one of my writing buddies said (I don't post direct quotes publicly) or some kind of note to myself.

####

[This part is my actual outline I used to write the chapters]

So! Stan's having breakfast. Bill comes into the kitchen, plops down, "gooood morning—" "go away."

"Haha funny. Anyway! I need you to take me to your dentist." "No. I took you to the mall, you almost made my niece cry, my brother left a Shopliftaholics Anonymous flier on my bed, and all I got out of is was a crummy ring. You wanna go anywhere, talk to Soos."

Nope, it's gotta be Stan. (he doesn't wanna hang out with that loser Soos anyway.) Bill's trying to get fillings, and Stan's dentist does them for free.

Which is true, but it's weird that Bill knows that. Stan's dentist is some weirdo operating out of a back alley, with a weird pay structure. He charges normal dentist rates for regular dental maintenance, but he does gold fillings for free, and he'll pay YOU if he needs to pull your teeth. He's great! Stan hasn't had to pay for dental care in thirty years! Stan also wears dentures now, but hey, at least they were free.

So, since it's Stan's dentist, he's the only one who can take Bill. Stan sees where Bill's coming from; but he says no, because he doesn't wanna.

Okay, bill's gonna try another tact.

Stan, Bill is a simple creature. A simple creature who's used to being coated tip to base in a thin layer of pure, lustrous, 24 karat gold. Having skin makes his skin crawl. He doesn't *need* any dental work done, his teeth are fine, but he'd really, *really* like to have just a *bit* of gold, *somewhere* on his body, so he feels a *little* more like himself in his final days. (you're losing my sympathy by the second, cipher.) ... And then once he's dead, he supposes he'll be leaving behind a corpse with a mouthful of free gold that whoever's disposing of his remains can do whatever they want with, do you catch his meaning Stanley?

That's absolutely *disgusting.* ... But okay, he's bribed! ...... They're not telling Ford about this, right? Right. They're shaking on it. Agreed. They'll take this to their graves. ... Or to Bill's grave, anyway.

Hey, it's free gold that Bill is offering him totally voluntarily. After all the trouble this demon's brought into their lives, the LEAST Stan can get in return is a little financial compensation.

Great! Deal made! Time to go get the cursed friendship bracelets and then they can head out—

Ohhh no, Stan isn't trusting a bit of colored lace and some mystical hocus-pocus to keep Bill contained. They're doing this PROPERLY. He's gonna MAKE SURE Bill can't escape. They're going to Soos and getting the REAL, METAL handcuffs from him. Try to get out of THAT! Now... to the car!

... Bill's right wrist is cuffed to Stan's left wrist. This puts Bill on Stan's left side. How are they gonna get Stan in the driver's seat.

... Does Stan want Bill to drive— NO, no, NOPE, he is NOT letting Bill drive, under ANY circumstances, NOT a chance. Okay fine so how are they doing this.

Cue Stan driving with Bill cuddled up against his right side and Bill's right arm stretched across Stan's chest. It's very intimate. Very romantic. You can practically hear Unchained Melody playing in the background They are both so very very uncomfortable.

[imagine a gif from Ghost]

Exactly like that but imagine them grimacing in disgust the whole time

Definitely one of the worst experiences Stan has ever had handcuffed in a car.

So after a VERY unpleasant drive they park, get out—and immediately cross paths with Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland. Stan's like ah great, last thing they need, police nearby while they're doing something weird. Well, if they don't make eye contact and go about their way—

Bill waves like HI DARRYL, HI EDWIN, HOW'S IT GOING? WORKING HARD OR HARDLY WORKING HAHA and they're like OH HEY GOLDIE HOW'VE YOU BEEN, DID YOU HAVE A NICE SUMMERWEEN and Stan is like "*Bill what do you think you're doing getting their attention, do you want them asking questions*" and Bill goes "🙂 I did not think this through 🙂"

Which is of course when they go "hey why are you handcuffed to Mr. Pines? You need some help there? I bet we've got a key that matches that handcuff model" and oh Stan BETS that Bill would LOVE to accept that offer and go traipsing off into town with the cops, so he goes "NOPE, that's fine, thank you officers, but we're keeping the handcuffs on. ... Because. They're necessary. ... For me. ... Because I'm old. ... It's to keep me from wandering into traffic."

Bill's a quick liar, he goes haha yep that's true!! This guy's cataracts are so bad, sometimes he asks us if he's dying because all he can see is a white light at the end of a dark tunnel. And the way his mind's going, woof—" "(all right you don't have to lay it on so thick)" "—he's so addled it's like he's completely forgotten the last century of transportation advancements, he'll just walk right off the curb and expect the horse-drawn carriages to stop for him—" "Hahaaa, but we won't bore you with my medical history! *C'mon,* Goldie, you're gonna make me *late* to my *heart doctor appointment.* You don't want my life on your hands, do you." "(You know, I think I kind of do.)"

The cops are like, you can't see? didn't we just see you get out of the driver's seat of your car? and they're like ......... Goldie's giving him directions. 😃

Oh! That makes sense. Okay. They'll let them get to their doctor's appointment. They wander off like y'know i think Goldie's a step up from that seeing-eye bear

They look at each other like, all right, good improv, you're not bad. They can respect each other for that. Stan thinks Bill wouldn't be bad to run a con with if he were literally anybody other than who he is. Okay, on to the dentist.

So the dentist's office is a little garden shed around back behind some other totally unrelated business. Whatever business I can think of that would be funniest. It's a ramshackle nightmare. The dentist, also, is a ramshackle nightmare.

[candy store]

He's surprised to see Stan there, on account of the fact that Stan has no teeth. Because the dentist pulled them all. ... he's not mad is he

No, no, the dentures are great! They're lower maintenance! Sort of. In a way. Anyway, he's here to refer a new customer! ... does he get any kind of referral bonus or

Yeah have a uhhh gold coin or something, here. Okay! New customer! What can he do you for?

Fillings! Okay, on which teeth? Whichever he thinks would look best with some! Dealer's choice! Bill's leaving it in his hands! All that matters is that currently Bill's teeth do *not* have any gold in them, and he'd like that to change by the time he leaves.

The dentist gives Stan a look like "is this freak serious" and Stan sorta shrug nods like "yeah he's serious" and the dentist is like okay!!! Super! This'll be fun! Let's see what he has to work with.

The dentist is amazed at Bill's teeth. Wow. So clean. Perfectly white. Did you just get these cleaned, where'd you get it done at? No? Well, looks amazing. And no wear at all, remarkable... Do you mind if he takes a few pictures? Have you ever considered having any of these pulled?

Stan's like yeesh, he forgot how creepy this guy is. He's like a serial killer crossed with a nerd with a tooth fetish.

Well, the dentist is sorry to say that all of these are pristine. Not a hint of cavities—not even plaque. It'd be a shame to drill them. You *sure* you don't want one pulled...?

Stan is 😬 but Bill is handling this like it's a totally normal question for him to be getting. Y'know what, just the fillings today—but who knows, maybe he'll feel naughty and be back in a couple of weeks haha. Just pick a couple of your least favorite teeth to drill into!

Okay, suit yourself. Let's gas you up and get drilling.

This is the first time Stan's had an opportunity to watch the dentist at work. Which is how he learns for the first time that he saves all the little tooth dust & shards off his drill in a tiny Petri dish. Yeesh. He's an even bigger creep than Stan thought.

Bill doesn't handle the gas well. It's not that it makes him sick or anything. He just forgets how to human. The dentist tells him to hold his mouth open and he holds his eyes open until they water. He keeps forgetting his mouth is occupied and talking to the dentist while he trying to drill. When he's let go, he heaves himself off the chair and immediately falls on the ground because he expected to float. Stan has to support him to the door and he keeps trying to walk sideways. Bill doesn't mind, he feels great! Waves at the dentist as they leave. Thanks for the gold, Atlantis is rising as we speak, you have seven years to prepare for the plague, tell the little lady he said hi! Byyye! Stan is desperately trying to drag him out the door, he turns to Stan like "I made up the bit about Atlantis" "okay now shut up and stop saying weird things"

But not the plague part

The fic *does* take place in 2013

They're driving home. Smushed together all intimate-like. You can almost hear Careless Whisper playing. Except this time Bill is loudly and terribly singing along. He keeps trying to take the steering wheel and turn it like a kid playing in a toy car and Stan has to keep swatting his hand away. Bill's like "I can't feel my tongue at all! I bet I can chew it off!" "Don't do that." "The last time my mouth was this numb, my girlfriend had just gotten done with me, haha. I was almost blind for the next hour from all the spores—" "I swear if you don't shut up—" "I just realized I haven't gotten any action since I died. Wow. This isn't a weird time to bring that up, is it?" "Bill if you say ONE MORE weird thing you're riding home on the roof of the car."

Bill is quiet for three seconds. "Your arm's really beefy! What's your favorite flavor of cancer?"

Mabel: "why are you on top of the car?"

Bill, eyes wide, hair disheveled, one arm hanging through the driver's door, sprawled out desperately clinging to the roof like his life depends on it: "I don't know, it's all a blur." (Note to self, mention Mabel and dipper are heading out for a sleepover or something)

Well, *that* was fun! 🙂 Bill thinks it was fun, anyway. Stan doesn't agree. Anyway, where's Soos? They need the key to the handcuffs.

Soos is having dinner with Melody's family this evening. They call him to ask where the key is. Haha, sorry dudes! He totally forgot he still had it. Yeah, it's on his keyring. Is that, like, gonna be a problem, or...

Well—pff—when are you gonna be back?? Uhhh he's not sure, kinda late maybe. Well, can he duck out and bring them the key? Uhhhh he WOULD but, he's REALLY worried about impressing Melody's parents, and the casserole's about to come out, and he thinks they might judge him if he leaves, and it would probably ruin dinner... Okay FINE, then what if they drive over to get the key? ("STAN CAN I DRIVE THIS TIME—" "ABSOLUTELY NOT") Oh sure, they can drive over if they want—anyway Melody's parents' place is in Portland.

Which is waaaay outside the barrier around Gravity Falls

Welp. That ain't happening. Looks like they're stuck.

... They could call Blubs and Durland—?

NOPE Stan is NOT calling the cops for help NUH UH, he'll WAIT ALL NIGHT if he has to. ... so. What do they do until then.

Cue them grumpily watching a game show together. Bill refuses to sit in the living room with Stan so Stan's on the couch and Bill's sitting in the entryway on the stairs and their handcuffs are strung through the doorway. Hey Stan, still glad you went with the handcuffs instead of the friendship bracelets? Shut up.

Bill's shouting out the answers to every question on the show almost sooner than they're displayed and eventually Stan is like, man, we'd clean up if we put you on this show. No one would ever figure out how you're cheating. And Bill's like HA, listen to you!! If you were Ford you'd be mad that I'm giving away all the answers before you can guess!! That's the great thing about you, Stan, you don't get irritated at Bill for stupid little reasons, you're more fun. HEY FORD DID YOU HEAR THAT, STAN'S THE FUN TWIN— And Stan's like shut up you idiot ford's in the basement he can't hear you. And what are you talking about, you irritate me all the time. I'm constantly infuriated by you. And Bill's like, oh, well, i guess i just don't care when you're irritated then lmao.

Stan's like what's with you anyway, why are you so obsessed with Stan's brother. And bill says SDFHFJF?? DSFKLGLJ??? FLKJFHGD???? EXCUSE M. EXCUSE ME?? OBSESSED??? MOI???? I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT

Is it OBSESSION to SOMETIMES PAY ATTENTION to the one person in the house he HAPPENS to know best and to whom he HAPPENS to be a teacher and muse and friend— and Stan's like oh that's a load of bull, you're not ANY of those things to him. Friend?? Friend???? HE WANTS YOU DEAD and Bill's like WELL IF THAT'S *SO* then doesn't it also make plenty of sense to keep an eye on, you know, THE GUY THAT *KILLED* HIM, like there's nothing mysterious about why he'd focus a *little* on that person—

THAT'S IT, THAT'S JUST IT!!!! There are TWO people who killed Bill, remember? That was a two-man con he fell for! But he keeps treating Ford like he was the only one there! If Ford's in the room, he's the only person Bill talks to, and if he ISN'T in the room then Bill's yelling across the house for him, and Ford wants less to do with him than anyone else, what the heck, it's creepy—

Only *one* person killed Bill. Stan's not the man who killed him; he's just the place where Bill was killed.

And that baffles Stan into shutting up a second.

Bill's like, do you even remember what happened in your brain?? and Stan's like :/ so Bill's like LMAO!! We were both trapped in there when Ford fired the gun. Completely powerless. Stan was weeping and begging for a way out even, but there was nothing Bill could do by then— and Stan's like all right I KNOW that THAT didn't happen! so Bill's like fine fine okay all right you got me, we actually had this big psychic laser fight, imagining up all sorts of fantastical weapons. And Stan's like, ehhhh, all right, that sounds more like me. And bill says but it was all IMAGINARY, it was a vast illusion, at that point there was nothing I could do to you and nothing you could do to me. We were just two victims locked inside a burning house as it came down around us. YOU didn't kill me, you didn't have the POWER to kill me. And Stan just, gives him this discontented look. Hm.

Oh, oh wow, okay, Bill sees what's going on. Stan's jealous, isn't he. He thought offering up his body to be the scene of a murder finally made him a co-star instead of a sidekick. All their lives, Ford got more attention from daddy, more attention from the teachers, more attention from the WHOLE WORLD—and Stan finally thought he'd at least get a little attention from the big bad living nightmare. Just because he let his brother shoot him in the head. You weren't special enough for anyone else, why do you think you're special enough for Bill?

Oh yeah?? Well he bets he's special enough to break Bill's face— jerks him by the chain into the living room, fist raised; and Bill immediately pulls back as far as he can and tries to shield his face.

As a helpful reminder, Bill's death actually went like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0D3adyJQDqI so 1) he is VERY much lying to Stan, and 2) getting punched in the eye by Stan in the living room is still echoing in his nightmares.

So there's a split second where Bill is absolutely blind with terror, gets out a strangled "NO—!" and then they both freeze and stare at each other. Stan knows what just happened. And Bill knows Stan knows. And Stan knows Bill knows Stan knows.

Bill immediately plays it off, "come on, I just got all this dental work done, at least give me a couple days to enjoy it before you pound it in. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mine having a flatter face, all these bones and cartilage jutting out never did feel right—"

Stan feigns a punch. Bill flinches. Stan laughs at him.

And what's Bill gonna do? Fight him? He is not trained in 3D brawling. He tries, very hard, to explode Stan with his brain. This usually works on people who are annoying him. But alas. "If I had one billion-billionth of my power back I'd have already destroyed you—!" "But you DON'T, sucker!!" Bill screams in frustration and stomps off to go sulk somewhere

Aaand is immediately jerked back because of the handcuffs. Whoops.

"... Whatever I don't even care about your stupid aggressive mammal posturing. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I'm calm. You're just making yourself look stupid. ... I wanna go to bed."

####

So!! Attempting plotting. When we left off, Bill wanted to go to bed. Which is a problem since he's still handcuffed to Stan

Cue Ford going "Bill. Why are you sleeping on the floor in front of my bedroom door."

Well you see, STAN got them handcuffed together until morning, and Bill tried to be accommodating, but Stan doesn't want to sleep in the attic and won't let Bill sleep in the guest room— (Stan yelling "and Mr. Accommodating here refuses to sleep in the living room") —so the best compromise they've got is sleeping on the floor with the handcuff chain strung under the guest room door, see. Does Ford want in? It'll take a little coordination to get the door open but they've done this once before—

Ford's not messing with this. He's sleeping in the basement. Good night.

At some point in this I've gotta establish that Mabel and Dipper are out of the house for the night. Maybe they're just leaving as Stan and Bill get home. Anyway the point is Bill and Stan are effectively at home alone for the night. Maybe Soos's grandma is still there, she's a little old lady, she wouldn't be much help in a fight

So. Somehow I've gotta get them from being asleep to getting woken up by the dentist being in the house, with the tooth fairy. There's some transitional material I'm missing that I've gotta fill in later.

Maybe Bill wakes up with the dentist's tools already in his mouth, ready to pull. Waking up at 2 am to invasive dental surgery. Bill's like, hello, very forward of you.

[horrified face]

That WOULD be a more appropriate reaction, if Bill weren't so weird.

Bangs on the door to wake up Stan, WE HAVE VISITORS, WAKE UP

Dentist realizes that Bill is stuck in place with the chain, pins him against the wall, and tries to go for his teeth. STAN SURE IS TAKING HIS TIME— Stan gets the door open just in time, Bill tumbles into the guest room, Stan goes wtf why is the dentist here?

The dentist goes uhhhh he just wanted to check on Bill's fillings, yeah, he thought one of them might be a little loose— Bill's like cut the crap, your boss put you up to this, what the heck does the little lady want with his mouth?

Stan's like what? What "little lady," this guy is self employed, what are you talking about— and Bill goes the TOOTH FAIRY, genius, why did you think your dentist pays YOU to pull your teeth! Who'd you think was funding him?! And, well, Stan can't say he ever put much thought into it. He just sort of took this whole thing at face value. But like the tooth fairy is fake right, like that's just stupid—

Which is when a fairy wearing baby teeth jewelry pops her head out of the dentist's bag. Stan's like oh well never mind, just one more crazy thing happening in this town. And Bill's like oh shit she's actually HERE, the situation just escalated significantly.

I've decided the tooth fairy's name is Pearl E. White.

Bill skips straight to addressing her by first name, which disconcerts everybody, not least of which is the tooth fairy herself. Lady, if you were toeing the line of your treaty any harder, you'd be tripping across it. What are you doing here and what do you want?

She's WELL within the bounds of the treaty, she hasn't laid a hand on Bill and she's not about to start, and she's been offering MORE than adequate financial compensation— Bill's like oh yeah I bet the queen would have something to say about you ordering your helper to rip out someone's teeth in the dead of night— and Stan's like hi, question, what the Fuck are you all talking about

Oh Bill can explain, Bill knows lots of things! So this fairy here has a *thing* for teeth. To the extent that she got into a habit of stealing them straight out of humans' mouths! And went so crazy over it that she actually dragged a fairy court into a war with humans over her teeth-stealing habits! Currently, she's only allowed to accept *already freed* teeth that are *voluntarily* offered to her by the owner, which is why she started bribing kids with money.

She starts getting into a gray area working with hired dentists—once a tooth has been handed over to a dentist, that dentist becomes its "owner," and can give that tooth to the tooth fairy—buuut the fact that he *extracted* the tooth puts it on shaky legal ground. Really, Bill thinks the only reason she's been getting away with THAT racket so long is because nobody's raised a legal challenge to it yet. Probably because most humans don't know it's even happening. And with the price of dental work being what it is, yeesh. But—by *any* reading of the treaty, hiring a human to nonconsensually rip out teeth on her behalf is beyond the pale. So she'd better have a good explanation for this!

Yeah, she does have a good explanation for this. SHE WANTS BILL'S TEETH! She'd do ANYTHING for one of his teeth! They're the most amazing teeth she's ever seen!!!

The dentist is like, holding her back from lunging at Bill's face

Okay, great! Fantastic! Bill's not above a little bargaining and he's not too attached to this body—so how much gold you got on you, kid?

Oh no, she's not bargaining. Bill already knows too much, she's NOT about to get blackmailed by a human, and she's not going back to fairy jail. So here's what she's gonna do: she's gonna have her guy rip out every one of Bill's teeth, and then rip his head apart to destroy the witness, and the only negotiating Bill gets to do is on whether or not her guy uses the local anesthetic. What's it gonna be?

Stan cuts in like hi, hey, listen, he'd love to see Bill's head get ripped apart, but—crazy thing—it turns out there's 50/50 odds that killing him will lead to the end of the world, so maybe let's talk this out—

Tooth fairy points at Stan like he's got nothing left of interest to me. He's a witness. Kill him too.

Right, cool cool cool, hey Stan you know that spell Ford's got on Bill? Well if Bill casts it on the dentist, can Stan handle things from there?

Yeah, Stan sees where Bill is going with this. The dentist & fairy don't expect Bill and Stan to lunge for them; Bill casts the can't-use-doors spell on the dentist, Stan drags Bill with him into the hallway, Stan slams shut the door, and now the fairy's bellowing OPEN THE DOOR YOU IDIOT and the dentist is yelling HOW????

They retreat to the entryway. From there they can go out the front door, into the kitchen, into the living room, or upstairs. I need to keep them from just going out the front door, I'll need to think up an excuse for that later. Something magic maybe idk. I also need to keep them out of the kitchen, but that's a likely dead end unless they feel like climbing over the kitchen table to break a window. Basically, I need them to be limited to the living room or upstairs.

The living room is the better option—it has a door to the gift shop, and the gift shop has a door straight outside, as well as doors to the mystery shack museum & the hidden elevator to the basement, lots of great options in there. But Bill drags them upstairs instead. Bill you idiot what are you doing, this is obviously the worse direction??

Shut up we're going this way and Bill doesn't care what Stan thinks about it.

Why are we going this way?? How the heck do you expect to get out of here from up in the attic?! Bill doesn't know, it just seemed like a better idea! There should be a ladder in the storage over the kids' room, maybe they can take that and get down out a window, come on

Meanwhile the fairy is hollering about how YOU DON'T DESERVE THOSE TEETH, THEY'RE TOO GOOD FOR YOU! They're the most beautiful, pristine, unblemished, perfect teeth she's ever seen in her life. (Bill's like "are they really that great?" and Stan's like "eh, a little asymmetrical, honestly.") She's NEVER seen adult teeth so pure and HE'S RUINING THEM by carving out chunks of PERFECT TOOTH to put in unnecessary fillings! He doesn't have the right to those teeth, she deserves them! ("Hey Bill so you knew my dentist was working for the tooth fairy?" "Yes." "And you knew she goes crazy for nice teeth." "Yes." "And it didn't occur to you that she'd be outraged by you carving up your new teeth." "It's in the past, Stanley, focus on the present.")

—and she doesn't even KNOW how he got MAGIC TEETH! Fully adult teeth in a fully adult mouth but SOMEHOW they're barely a month old! It's unbelievable! She couldn't believe it herself until she saw his mouth with her own two eyes! She MUST have those teeth, as soon as possible, so she can preserve them like this, who knows if she'll ever find such a novelty again— Ahhh, so THAT'S what's motivating her. Welp, nope, sorry, Bill didn't see that one coming at all.

... hey, she's been buzzing around shouting at them but they don't hear her trying to help her dentist OR coming after them directly, what's she up to? Stan leans out the door to look into the main attic.

Huh, weird. She's just flying in a circle with what looks like a container of veggies from the fridge?? He thinks it's the sliced portobello mushrooms

WHAT!! OH THAT LITTLE CHEATER IS MAKING A FAIRY RING, THAT'S NOT FAIR—

Aaand poof, the dentist appears in the ring. The fairy must have already made the matching ring downstairs.

The dentist still needs a dumb name

[Drilliam]

Dr. Illiam. It was william but the W fell off his sign

[any relation to dr acula]

Went to dental school together. Dr. Acula kept mislabeling teeth, he always thinks the canines should be longer

He switched career tracks and became a phlebotomist

and speaking of drills — Fairy yells GET THEM, the dentist reaches into his dental tool bag, and pulls out a drill. Not a dental drill. A drill.

They slam the door. The dentist goes AW, F— AGAIN??? The tooth fairy's like JUST BREAK THROUGH IT, YOU HAVE POWER TOOLS

Bill has an idea. Stan, open the window, Bill's tying bedsheets (from Dipper's bed) together. Bill doesn't expect them to climb out that window, does he? No, he expects the *fairy* to think they went out that way, and they can hide in the closet until the fairy and dentist are past them so they can run downstairs.

Stan doesn't like the idea of hiding like cowards instead of fighting. Bill's like I can see a dozen futures that end with our brains splattered across Mabel's dolls you do NOT want to fight against power tools now COME ON

So they hide in the closet. It's uncomfortable in here. They're trying to stay quiet and listening to the dentist mauling his way through the door. Okay smart guy now what? What'll they do when they get downstairs?

Whispering at each other, "Why that way? Why not the living room, it's a lot faster to get out through the gift shop." "... Yeah. Fine—" "What's the matter, Bill, you got a problem with the living room?" "What? No, I SAID fine. It's fine." "It took you a long time." "I was trying to figure out if that was the fastest way out—" "Oh, really??? You sure you aren't SCARED to go in there with me? You think I haven't noticed how you bolt out of the living room any time I come in? Or how you flinch every time I raise my hand?" "... I don't know what you're talking about." "Do you REALLY think I don't remember how you died." "..." "As if I could forget the best moment of my life. Watching you on your knees, begging for mercy, while I put my fist through your face like a cheap mirror—" "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" "ADMIT IT! ADMIT THAT I KILLED YOU TOO! I PLAYED JUST AS MUCH A PART IN IT AS HE DID!" "YOU DID *NOT* KILL ME, YOU *COULDN'T* HAVE KILLED ME, I'M NOT *CAPABLE* OF BEING KILLED BY SOMEONE LIKE YOU!" "*THEN WHY ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME!*" "*I'M NOT AFRAID—*"

Unsurprisingly, the dentist puts a drill through the closet door.

####

For now though: Drilliam is drilling. Bill and Stan are screaming. Bill's shouting IS THIS WORTH IT?? WAS GETTING YOUR DENTAL SCHOOL LOANS PAID OFF WORTH THIS?? DO YOU WANNA BE A MURDERER MAN and he's sobbing I CAN'T STOP NOW, I'M IN TOO DEEP this man is having the worst night, like sure he's obeying the tooth fairy but it's clear she's the bloodthirsty one here

Okay count of three Stan and Bill are kicking the door open. Bill falls flat on his ass and has to scramble back up but they manage to wedge the dentist behind the door in a corner with his drill stuck in the door. Waving at their faces, menacingly. Stupid cordless magic-powered drill. The fairy's buzzing in their faces making them swat at her, the dentist starts to wiggle out, they give the door one last hard shove to knock him off balance and then run for the stairs.

And, of course, they continue the most important discussion as they go. "WHY DOES IT MATTER to you so much whether Ford killed you or Ford *and me* killed you? Why is it SO hard to admit that I threw a punch that took you down?!" "You DIDN'T kill me, you CAN'T have killed me because YOU DON'T MATTER. YOU AREN'T IMPORTANT." "Dsklfslkjf NOT IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO *KILL* YOU?! HOW DOES THAT EVEN MAKE SENSE?!"

And Bill senses he's found a weakness he can needle. "It's true! I've looked into countless universes and you just don't matter! No matter where you go or what you do, you just AREN'T IMPORTANT! If *anything*, all you ever do is make things *worse.* You know, I first tried to work with Ford in a universe where *you don't exist*? And I couldn't do it! He wouldn't give me a chance! Because YOU weren't there to ruin his life and make him desperate enough to turn to an alien, and YOU hadn't spent your whole childhood *training* him to put up with a manipulative con artist's lies—so he'd be *ready* when he met me. Isn't that funny, Stanley?"

Bill's dragged them to a stop now so he can rip into Stan: "You were stillborn in that universe. Your brother had to grow up without a twin watching over him—so he actually learned how to make friends. Your mother was DEVASTATED that she'd lost you—but you know what's funny? I think your family loved that dead baby you more than they EVER liked the disappointment you turned out to be—"

And That's When Stan Punches Bill As Hard As He Can

Bill goes DOWN. There is blood everywhere. Oh shit Stan didn't mean to do that much damage are you okay?

And THAT'S when Stan realizes that they're in the living room. Right where Bill died. Bill goaded him into it

And Bill holds up a tooth, like, thanks for the tooth fairy bait. (Staring Stan dead in the eye with this look like, SCARED OF YOU, AM I?? WHO'S SCARED NOW)

And Stan... Stan is really big on macho, "face your fears," "stand up for yourself," "fight back" displays of masculinity. Stan's figured out Bill isn't much of a physical fighter. He might never be able to throw a punch. He's got tiny little baby hands. But—but—if his response to "I think you're scared" is plunging himself directly into the situation he's scared of, making it as terrifying as possible, and taking it without flinching... Stan, grudgingly, has to respect that. He doesn't WANT to respect that. But it's the kind of thing he respects. [when it comes to fighting, he might be able to dish it; but he can take it]

So now he kinda sorta grudgingly respects Bill. ... But also kind of feels bad for Bill? for reasons he can't quite specify. (Because it's the kind of desperate-to-prove-himself stunt that a younger Stan would have pulled, when he was scared and alone and homeless and trying to earn his fortune and a macho mask was the ONLY thing he had going for him. And he's never seen Bill like that before—all he ever saw was Mr. Big Shot Triangle who always had everything under control up until he was tricked into dying. It's never occurred to him that Bill is scrambling too. That Bill might also be lost.)

(It doesn't escape Stan that, in Bill's efforts to get under Stan's skin, Bill slipped up and called *himself* a manipulative con artist.)

But no time to wax poetic, Stan's not an introspective guy. Tooth fairy bait! A whole entire tooth! What are they gonna do with it?

I still need to figure out this part. They've gotta set a trap to catch a fairy, they've gotta separate her from the dentist, and they've got to do it extremely fast, because being stuck behind a door in the attic isn't gonna hold the dentist for THAT long

What kinda stuff traps fairies. My initial thought was "salt rings" but no i think that's demons. Not sure that works on fairies too

[iron. Not a clothes iron]

idk, chucking an iron at a fairy's head...

Like that post that's like "i know traditionally it takes a wooden stake to the heart to kill a vampire, but i think we oughta give hitting them with a pickup a shot"

It'll probably be something in the gift shop, since they're getting corralled that way. Stan hears them coming and shoves Bill through the door and follows after him. This is a very baffling experience for Bill, as the door was previously closed, and Stan didn't open it, and yet Bill is going through it, and he does not understand enough about doors to make sense of this. (It's a swinging door, it doesn't lock or latch.) The dentist is coming at the door ready to drill it (he doesn't understand swinging doors either) and obviously if he tried to hit the door it'd just swing open which would be bad news for them so Stan is like HOLD IT, that door is LOAD BEARING, if you start hacking holes in it the WHOLE SHACK COULD COME DOWN ON US! And the dentist pauses like. Now that doesn't sound right, but i don't know enough about doors to dispute it.

A load bearing door. ... that swings.

The fairy's like WHAT ARE YOU STOPPING FOR YOU IDIOT, HE'S LYING, DOORS DON'T WORK LIKE THAT— and Bill's like HEY CHECK THIS OUT. Waving his tooth around. YOU WANT THIS???

She's so outraged, YOU KNOCKED IT OUT, what if you CHIPPED IT, she's zooming for it

And Bill chucks it in... something. Undecided. Maybe I'll decide what it is later and then cleverly find a way to foreshadow it earlier in the chapter. Anyway it's totally an effective fairy trap, possibly made out of iron.

BAM, now she's TRAPPED. The dentist is dropped down on the ground to peer through the gap under the door (there's like a three inch gap at the bottom of the door) and goes NO and pounds the door. It swings a few inches open. He stares in bafflement. It swings back and hits him in the forehead. At least Bill's no longer alone in his suffering re: the mystery of doors.

Right! Looks like they've got a proper hostage situation here, don't they! If Drilliam would please drop the power tools and back away from the door. Very good. Stan picks up his bag, holds the dentist at drill point, and tells him to get walking, he'll escort him outside. Stan doesn't trust Bill with power tools, so he can stand guard over the fairy.

... which means Bill is alone with the fairy.

*So*. Bill believes they were negotiating? 🙂

She's not negotiating ANYTHING with him. Look at what he did to this poor tooth. She's hugging it.

SHE'S obeyed the letter of her treaty, even if not the spirit, and when the fairy court hears tell of this they'll back her up and come free her, and oh, THEN Bill and Stan will be in trouble—

WAIT I JUST REALIZED. HOW CAN STAN LEAVE IF HE"S HANDCUFFED TO BILL.......................

See this is wh. This is why i outline. This is. The reason i do it. Invaluable process.

Maybe the handcuff broke when Stan punched Bill. Turned out it was a cheapo flimsy chain. Maybe they're still handcuffed together and I'm just gonna have to dial back how much Bill can say to the fairy because he knows Stan is listening.

I feel like separating Stan & Bill's cuffs would be a cop out, unless I can make it a really good moment

You know what, if bill had an opportunity to talk to the fairy alone, he would've tried to rope her into getting him some help that i do NOT know how to pay off. I was gonna have him promise a tooth off of his stone corpse in return for Assistance (As Yet Undecided), but i feel like giving Bill an in with some nebulous organization of fairies might be giving him too much power too soon?? Like, "what COULD he do with a huge favor from a fairy" versus "what do I want him to currently be ABLE to do" + "what do I want people to THINK he can do," a fairy favor might be too much??

I'll try rolling with them still being chained together, see how i like that. Okay so ignore what i just said, Bill is going WITH Stan to kick out the dentist—they just shove him out the gift shop door and he stands out there making sad puppy eyes at them—and then go back to negotiate with the fairy.

And her buddies are gonna be mad when they come to get her!

Bill's like, but that's assuming they come for her, which they might just not, once they hear where she is. IF they hear where she is. She DOES know where she is, right? (Sure she does, this is the Mystery Shack.) And she does know who owns it, right? (Sure she does, he's right there—) Who REALLY owns it? (...) Are you *sure* they'll come for you here?

It doesn't matter who owns this place, HE'S been gone for decades— Oh, has he? You sure about that? You didn't think it strange that an odd person with magical teeth and weird eyes—a real bonafide freak—happens to be in this shack, getting escorted around by handcuffs? That didn't make you ask any questions?

Stan puts a threatening hand on Bill's shoulder like *hey, easy how much you spill*—most people don't notice Bill doesn't look quite human until he points it out—and seeing *that* gesture terrifies the fairy more than anything else Bill said, like oh shit, he's not bluffing, she's been hunting somebody else's prisoner.

So how about this. If *she* promises to leave and never harass them again, *they* promise not to wake up the jailer and ask how he wants to deal with her. Because Bill just wants to be left alone, and he assumes Stan just wants to go back to bed—but *him,* oh, he wouldn't hesitate to pin her wings to a board. Sound fair?

Yes, yes, it's fair, she'll leave them alone! Just let her go!

Great. 🙂 Oh, and one more thing. His payment for that tooth?

She gives Bill a gold tooth. 😠 And they let her go. She's a fairy, her word's as good as law. If she promised not to bother them again then she won't. Can't lie.

... so. What was all that about the true owner of the shack?

Oh haha yeah! Fordsy's got a bit of a reputation around the town's paranormal community. He actually wasn't much more personable with the freaks he was studying than he was with the other humans in town—he had a tendency to catch, study, release. One or two times he *didn't* release. Rumors grow with time. And well, if it's useful to pretend to be one of his specimens...

The idea of keeping a person (a person!) prisoner to study does Not sit well with Stan. "You're *not* one of his specimens." "No? Has he been studying me?" "Of COURSE not" but now he's thinking about it.

... Well. Back to sleep? ("Are you gonna let me sleep in the guest room now?" "*No.*" "Aww, I thought we'd bonded a little!" "After all the horrible shit you said earlier??" "Haha you're too sensitive.")

......... WAS the horrible shit Bill said true? Or did he just say it to get a rise out of Stan.

Naaah, he just thought it would be funny to make Stan mad. He never saw a universe where Stan and Ford weren't inseparable as kids. But then he never dug that hard. It wasn't one of his priorities.

Stan doesn't think Bill's telling the truth now; but Stan doesn't think Bill was telling the truth earlier, either. Bill's not telling Stan what the multiverse is like; Bill's telling Stan how he wants Stan to feel. Bill *could* have said everything he'd said was true, but he didn't.

"You're not a half bad liar, Cipher. It's too bad you're a lousy dirtbag bent on world domination, or you could've made a decent partner-in-crime." "Yeah? Well, my schedule's clear, I'm bored, and running a two-man con sounds fun. Let me know." "Don't count on it."

The end.

Epilogue: next morning Ford goes "did you two sleep well?" (He's not actually asking Bill he's just asking Stan. He hopes Bill got an annoying crick in his neck that'll never go away.) "Oh yeah, no problem. Got comfortable and didn't move all night." "We barely even noticed the handcuffs. Slept like babies." Well, Ford's relieved nothing weird happened last night.

There's a knock at the door. He'll get that.

It's a very sad and bedraggled dentist. Can he please have his ability to open doors back? He had to sleep outside last night. 8,C

... only the person who cast the spell can lift it. Hey Bill, get in here. "Slept like babies," huh?

The end end

####

[everything after this is various points in other conversations where I was discussing the where & how the tooth fairy arc would fit with the overall story, to show you what kind of plotting-over-time I do for the big elements of a story.]

You know what I'm gonna go with a tooth fairy. The show's featured gnomes, mermaids, subterranean dinosaurs preserved in tree sap, and Cupid. A tooth fairy works.

A dentist who worships the tooth fairy. The fairy gets a glimpse of Bill and goes "WOW I've never had ALIEN TEETH before! *Bring them to me.*"

[hell yeah alien teeth]

####

And probably the chapter after that is gonna be Stan Takes Bill To The Dentist. Where Bill goes "you don't have to worry about me running off, we can use the friendship bracelets." "Oh ill friendship bracelet YOU. And I'll do it WITHOUT MAGIC." *slaps actual real handcuffs on himself and Bill. Loses the key.*

####

He played himself. I think I'm gonna have them be handcuffed through the ENTIRE tooth fairy arc. I think it would be really funny.

Ford like "Bill, why are you sitting in the hallway outside my guest room."

"Because SOMEBODY decided to HANDCUFF US TOGETHER and then LOST THE KEY so I have to SLEEP IN THE HALLWAY with the HANDCUFF CHAIN STRUNG UNDER THE DOOR. ISN'T THAT RIGHT, *STANLEY.*"

"Right. ... I'm going to sleep in my lab tonight."

####

Things going on:

- Stan unwillingly getting dragged into his "befriending the evil triangle" arc. Woe, friendship be upon ye.

- Bill copes with traumas by setting himself up to relive them until they stop hurting. Burning down your dimension devastated you? Become a serial arsonist, stare into the flames over and over again! Flinch every time the guy they punched you to death raises a fist? Goad him into following through, now it's not scary anymore!

####

Where I am right now: Mabel has just won Bill's loyalty forever. Where I need to get to: the next "episode," which is *probably* gonna be Stan taking Bill to the dentist and getting tangled up with the tooth fairy, unless I come up with another plot I think might be more appropriate to come first. I feel like I can't just hop straight into the next episode, because Mabel's JUST befriended Bill, so I need to spend a little time showing them BEING friends so that that convincingly sticks. And I can't "just" show them hanging out coloring pictures or whatever, I've gotta have something, like, *happen.*

####

Today's mission: figure out how to jigsaw in all the plot points I need to establish before the season one finale (when [SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS].)

I've made a list of all the things I'm pretty sure need to happen:

- Bill makes progress on lucid dreaming 

- Stan emotionally invests in Bill

--- ( this will be the Tooth fairy arc)

- Ford decides Bill isn't gonna kill them

--- the eclipse

- Ford likes Bill a tiny bit

- Dipper decides Bill is harmless

--- (I'm planning a gag where bill gets accidentally locked in the bathroom all day, this'll achieve that)

- Dipper decides Bill might be useful

--- (The eclipse)

- Bill makes contact with cultists

--- (cultist visits shack looking for bill)

- Bill finds a way to sneak outside

- conversation with dipper about the third dimension

- Fiddleford finishes the gun

--- (this will probably necessitate another Fiddleford visit)

This isn't everything that COULD happen before the season 1 finale, but it's the BARE MINIMUM everything that needs to get done.

####

There's plenty of other things that could happen before or after this, but i might need a better idea of how I want to shape season 2 before I can decide what to put before and what to put after

Like, the monster truck plot. I'm toying with whether I want it before the s1 finale (which would mean Bill can use Gideon to make contact with his cultists) or after (which would mean [SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS])

Somebody else put this together into a coherent plot arc for me o|-<

I keep pushing back writing the tooth fairy arc because i keep going "no wait, i thought of something else i need to do first—" and part of that is because, i feel like, once the tooth fairy arc happens, that kicks in gear Bill interacting with Gideon (because then he's got a gold tooth), which naturally leads to the monster truck arc, which is a big event, so anything that needs to happen "early" in the fic needs to happen before then—but if i do decide to push the monster truck arc to later on, that's less of a concern. Instead I could spend more time on foreshadowing Bill messing with Gideon.

[vote push it back]

you may have a point. The main thing is if i push it back, it would make the most sense to go in season 2 (when [SPOILERS SPOILERS]), BUT: one of the things I'd *like* to do with the finale is [SPOILERS SPOILERS x100] which needs Gideon. (Alternatively, I could make up some new, lower-key method for Bill to get Gideon under his thumb without meeting him at the monster truck rally—but I'd have to think up some Whole New Plot that's Interesting enough for that.)

####

Okay so i think my rough roadmap is. Tooth fairy plot -> Gideon chapter -> the axolotl eclipse -> the season finale. These four events contain most of my "MUST be done before the finale" events

####

I think the "makes progress on lucid dreaming" can be achieved during the Gideon chapter. I can bookend the chapter with a couple of his efforts, to show how he progresses over the chapter. *Maybe* I can shove one into the tooth fairy chapter, have a dream be interrupted by the dentist waking him

Yeah, there are two dreams I know I want to happen; a replay of Bill's mom dying where he "remembers"/admits that when he realized he hurt his mom, he *kept on pushing*; and a second replay where he seizes control of the dream and rewrites it so that it's like a big fun gory game (and thus re-burying the traumatic reality of what happened). I can put those at the beginning and end of Gideon's chapter.

####

Okay I think my current road map is:

tooth fairy -> bill figures out how to sneak out/dipper finds bill locked in the bathroom -> Gideon (+lucid dreaming) -> (Bill talks to Dipper about how he perceived the universe, leading to) The Eclipse -> Ford brings home a copy of Flatworld, letting the kids learn more about Bill's backstory/Fiddleford tells Ford the gun is ready, leading to -> the season one finale.

We're in the final stretch! No more random diversions, probably!

####

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

FourRaccoonsInACoat Masterlist

Thanks for stopping by my masterlist, I am thrilled there are people who are interested in my writing! You may be asking, did I really create a logo for a nonexistent book series that only exists in the BG3 universe and features Malta the crime-fighting cat, all for the sake of a gag?

Yes. Yes I did. I will speak no more on the matter.

My fanfiction is centered around Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge. The Durge MC in my works is based on my first BG3 Durge, a female half-drow warlock named Eli. I currently have one ongoing chapter fic, as well as a few one shots that all take place in the same universe.

I write fanfiction for myself as a way to decompress from life and because I enjoy sharing my stories with others. It legitimately makes my day when someone is entertained by my writing, so thank you for every comment, like, message and kudo. Much love and appreciation to you all!

Also, if you're here for BG3 Incorrect Quotes, follow that link for the masterlist.

____________________

AO3 Account - All of my works are crossposted to AO3.

Ongoing Work

Head Full of Ghosts:

Current Rating: M

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Eli has spent a lot of time combing through her fractured psyche, trying to piece together any semblance of facts about who she was before she awoke on a mind flayer nautiloid. In all that self-reflection, she has concluded there are two things she is very good at. Killing people and drinking.

Neither of which is proving very useful as she tries to navigate interpersonal pitfalls after being appointed leader of a ragtag group of maladjusted misfits who are trying to source a cure for the illithid tadpoles in their heads. As if that isn't problematic enough, she's also having to contend with the growing affections between herself and the group's resident vampire spawn, Astarion.

Between fanatic cultists, goblin raids, murderous urges and cryptic memory loss, Eli figures a relationship is the last thing she ought to get herself wrapped up in. And from what she's seen of Astarion, the cavalier rogue seems to have his own breeds of specters haunting his steps.

Neither one of them has any business mucking about with romance. But, neither one of them is particularly good at staying away from things that entice.

____________________

One Shots

In chronological order:

Fall for Me ---> Faint of Heart ---> Midnight Prayer

Fall for Me

Rating: E NSFW18+

Astarion wakes from a nightmare and goes to Eli, seeking reassurance as he struggles with the denial of his feelings. The last thing he wants to do is give someone else control over him, not after he’s so recently regained a taste of freedom. Over the past 200 years, every relationship Astarion was involved in had been nothing more than a means to an end, with Astarion either playing the role of manipulator or the one being manipulated. Attachments were leverage, giving someone a hook they were able to dig their claws into in order to gain ground. Isolating himself from connecting with others was how he had survived.

This, however…this was different. 

Rating: M

Faint of Heart

Somewhere along the way, more and more truth has begun to slip into the words Astarion has been using to charm Eli into his bed. He's not sure when it started, but sometime between their passionate nights and hard fought days, genuine feelings began to stir.

It all comes to a head after the crew stages a prison break out of Moonrise Towers. Now, during a rare evening of respite, Astarion is determined to make a confession, regardless of his fears over the fallout.

Rating: M

Midnight Prayer

Neither Eli nor Astarion knows what they're doing when it comes to romance. Their combined histories with healthy relationships adds up to an unsurprising total of zero. Astarion once admitted to Eli that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she can't remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers are nonexistent…at least…

At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.

[ickmick]

Novelvember week 3

prompt: yet another incorrect quote, which is at the end of the fic :3

duo or ship: tango/grian with plenty of impulse & grian interaction!

A certain pesky bird goes poking through the local dungeon master's storage unit. After getting caught red handed, he flees to tell a fellow hermit, seeking advice for his rising feelings.

OR

Grian has a gay panic over Tango making out with him and tells Impulse all about it before promptly deciding physical touch is not currently Fun.

ao3 link | week one | week two

pssst... wanna see the full drawing? click here! <3

breif warning for a sort of anxiety attack at the very end. its not described in much detail, mostly just discomfort with physical touch.

Pacing the length of the entry room in Impulse's base, Grian grumbles a bit and checks his communicator again. The device was silent, cold metal pressing into his palms as he gripped it. Where is he? It's already been ten minutes, and the avian had thought Impulse was nearby. 

As he starts typing out another DM, the sound of rockets got close. Grian perks, wings raising as he looks for the source. There, incoming fast on glossy metal dragonfly wings, was the man of the hour.

“Hey! Sorry for taking a while, you know how Zed gets after cuddling,” The daemon calls with a chuckle when he's close enough. Through Impulse's many mentions of it, yes, he did know. There had been a few times he'd seen it himself, too.

Distantly, he recalls years long past where Tango had teased both Zedaph and Impulse for it. An uncomfortable jealousy rises, despite not having any reason to be. Not only was Tango very much not dating the two anymore, but Grian didn't have a connection like that to any of them. So it didn't make much sense to feel this way.

Impulse lands with an oomph next to Grian, furry whip-thin tail stretching out in an instinctive balancing act. It brings the avian back to the now relatively quickly. “How are you?” 

Frowning, he stays quiet for a second as the taller man closes his elytra and pushes his flight goggles up. “I think you know that,” Grian replies finally, a whine in his voice.

“Is it that bad?” Impulse asks, furrowing his brows while trying not to look too amused. When the avian just groans and turns away to keep pacing, he rolls his eyes fondly. “Come in, come in. Do you want a drink or something to eat, maybe?”

They go inside, and Grian hops up onto the island counter in the kitchen while the taller man gets out two glasses. Swinging his feet lightly, he sighs again. Heavily.

“Grian… buddy, I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I may give decent advice, but only when I know the situation.” Pouring water for them, the daemon walks over and holds one glass out. “Come on, what'd Tango do?”

The amused look on Impulse’s face only serves to make him more pouty. But after taking a long sip of water, Grian indignantly flaps his ear wings and looks away. “Well, it's confusing! He's confusing! He kissed me!”

Raising a brow, his friend sat in one of the bar stools. “Doesn't he, uh, always do that?” Pointing a finger limply at Grian, he adds, “I thought you two were in a loose QPR or something?”

“Yeah-!” Exasperation laces his exclamation, and his wings poof up. “But this was different!” His cheeks got warm, and he quickly took another gulp of water.

“How so?” Impulse tilted his head, elbow leaned on the counter as he looked up at him.

Flustered, the avian set his glass down and waved his arms about. “Usually it's an agreed on moment! He just went for it!”

This seemed to surprise Impulse, as he sat up straighter. His expression got a bit dark, voice serious. “Wait, went for it? He didn't disrespect your consent, did he?”

Face blanking briefly, he quickly shook his head. “Coders, no! That was- I didn't word it right. I promise it's not like that.” As the daemon relaxed- glad his pseudo brother wasn't causing actual problems- Grian looked away and traced the lip of his cup. “I mean that usually I'm like… Usually I'm there with intentions of garnering affection. But I was just, uh, sort of there this time.”

“Sort of there?” The taller hermit tilts his head. “Oh,” he smiles, “you were stealing from his storage again, weren't you?”

“Borrowing,” Grian sniffs, wings relaxing behind himself. “Those eggs weren't going to-” he realizes he's mumbling and stops, indignantly chirping.

“Eggs?” Impulse grins, all teasing words and smile-narrowed golden eyes.

Swatting at his arm, the avian groans. “Shut- forget I said anything!” He hops down from the counter, frowning deeply, only to be caught around the middle by a laughing man. A little gasp escapes him, but then he turns to glare heatlessly.

“No, I'm sorry,” He pulls him over to his side, words warm, “Tell me what happened. I'll try not to tease more.” Impulse carefully tucks a bit of fluffy hair behind his friend's ear, admittedly making the avian feel much more at ease. It was easier to talk when he wasn't in ‘playful older brother’ mode. 

He supposed the habit must be pretty strong, seeing as Impulse had both a little sister- Gem- and a little brother. Albeit, Tango wasn't actually related to him- that'd be really weird considering their past- and was only a month younger, but the point stood.

“I doubt that,” Grian mumbles in response, getting onto the stool next to him anyways. “But fine. Since I'm already here.” That, and they both knew even Zedaph didn't know the two's ex well enough to tell what he was up to. If Grian wanted in-depth advice regarding Tango, Impulse was the only one to ask.

“Sure,” the daemon hummed, arm falling to the side as Grian sat. His smile softens, and he urges him to go on with a brief hand motion.

Thinking about where to start, he stares down at his nearly empty glass. “Well, I just needed a few more bits and bobs for a build. And obviously, Tango has a lot of those.” As he speaks, he moves his hands about animatedly. “So, I figured, ‘ why not skim off the top? ’” His voice is hesitant, and he shrugs casually. Yes, this will do, easing into just what happened.

Impulse offers no response outside a little nod, allowing Grian the space to speak. So naturally, he does. “I've done it plenty, and he doesn't ever care because, you know, it's just little things.” Pausing, he hums and adds nonchalantly, “Even then, he never seems to mind when I take anything.”

It was probably a bigger deal than he'd assumed, as Impulse gave a big grin. Still, he says nothing, so with a nervous little chirp, Grian continues. “Anyways, he's been busy, so I let myself in and went downstairs…”

✮✮✮

Grian had hummed a soft, happy tune as he'd gracefully glided down into the belly of Tango's base. It had been a little hard to navigate with all the redstone, but he'd been down there enough times to narrowly avoid imminent death. At least for today.

The avian landed in the large doorway, and shook out his wings before folding them. He looked around, thinking over what he'd come for. It took a minute, dark brown eyes scanning the signs. Having recalled it, he set out for the chests he'd been sure had the right little things.

Something thudded a few minutes later, the distant sound of metal whistling through the air following it. The avian had frozen up, mid looting of some less than useful chests. As far as his build went, Grian had no use for the things he'd been grabbing.

He'd glanced between the room's entrance and the armful of eggs he'd currently held. Amongst them a few bits of gold shone, and a decently sized chunk of lapis had been tucked against his side. Conflicted between knowing he should get the hell out and his own instinct to take the precious items, he remained kneeled in front of the chest.

As the metallic elytra clinks a few times and makes a soft scratching as it shuts, Grian frowns and slowly scoots towards the bag he'd dropped on the floor for whatever he ‘borrowed’. It was his own bag, at least, empty outside of a few little miscellaneous items. That and the copper he originally came here for.

Carefully unloading his last haul of mostly eggs and shiny bits with a pleased chirp, he wonders why the other man hasn't walked in yet. He had heard him land, right? That wasn't his imagination? Admittedly, it should figure that he'd make it up.

So after another pause to listen, he shrugs and continues, poking into a few other chests. A soft trill leaves him as he finds some red wool, and he gently tucks it around the eggs. Can't possibly blame him for obeying his bird brain. 

He does some more back and forths between tucking a myriad of items around the eggs and snagging half slabs of copper. At some point he'd resumed his delightful tune. Then, someone clears their throat. Grian freezes, wings poofing up. As he hears a familiar snort, he scrambles up onto his feet and turns around.

Tango is leaning on the door frame, arms crossed. His metal elytra is folded behind himself, golden yellow magma-filled sections glowing in a way that imitates the man's own fire. “Whatcha up to, G?” The blaze watches him, raising a brow. There was a faint amusement to his tone, but he seemed a bit too tired for this.

“Uh,” looking down at the near full bag, he smiles, “Just helping you clean your storage, of course!” Over his shock and now in his usual mind of mischief, Grian puts his hands on his hips, inclining his head playfully. “There were some weird things in weird places, Tango.”

Seemingly giving him a moment to process what he's said, Tango offers a sharp grin. “Oh really?” He inquires in an unamused tone that says; ‘I don't believe you for a minute’. “The automated storage unit that I built myself is broken?”

The avian falters, glancing around at the room. It didn't feel like banter suddenly. “Y-Yes.” Confirming his shoddy alibi, and therefore sealing in another task for the other, he nods. One of his ear wings moves to cover part of his face, feeling shameful.

“Hm,” Tango hums, pushing off the wall and slowly walking over. He glances down at his bag and snorts again before turning to the open chests. “And which parts would you say are broken? I'm awfully tired, but if you say it's acting up…” The blaze spoke in a quiet sneer, knowing very well that his friend was full of it. But he didn't seem angry per se. 

Hesitating, he slowly turned around to look at the chests he'd raided. “Uhm, you see,” Grian trailed off, nibbling at his lower lip. He could feel the taller man stare down at him, and slumps a bit. Stealing ultimately unimportant items was one thing, they all did that regularly. Giving another hermit more work to cover up a lie though, that made his stomach twist. It just wasn't right.

Tango didn't say anything as the avian processed, tail idly flicking back and forth. He didn't speak up when said man leaned down and started to close the chests either. “Nothing is broken,” Grian quietly says, guilty. Hearing Tango cross his arms more than he really saw it in his peripherals, he cringed. “Sorry. If you'd like I can put everything back, I know you've been busy.” 

And yet he still swung by. He wasn't at all surprised to have been caught either. Rather, he'd been surprised by the sour turn of events. Tango seemed much more exhausted than one would imagine. Then again, he did build an entire game so… maybe it hadn't been a good idea to come pester him.

“I don't care about the items,” the blaze says after a moment. He grabs the back of Grian's sweater and pulls him back into a stand, making him look up at him. Behind Tango's irritated expression, he could see fatigue in his icy blue eyes. “What I care about is that you lied about it.”

Feeling rather small under his gaze, Grian looks away again. “I was only joking,” he weakly defended. It had in fact been another tease, one he knew he'd see through. Although– 

“That doesn't change the fact that you lied after, when I asked about it.” Tango’s voice lilts up towards frustration, arms crossed again. He'd practically spoken the shorter man's thoughts aloud. “Obviously I knew it was a joke, Grian.”

“Then-!” The avian tosses his hands up, cutting off his own shout to groan. “Why are you scolding me, then?”

Furrowing his brows at the weak glare, Tango's soul flame tail swishes in annoyance. “I just told you,” he says firmly, clearly attempting to remain calm. “Can we not do this right now? I have things to do.”

Now agitated as well- despite not having the right to be- Grian rolls his eyes and puffs his wings up to seem bigger. “You started it! Come on, shout back! You're clearly upset!”

The blaze stares, clearly riled if the crackling flame on his tail tip was anything to go by. After processing, he stepped closer, purposely looming over Grian now. “You should stop while you're ahead, birdie.” The nickname was startlingly out of place in the moment, said with such strained warning.

“And why is that,” he prods, feeling a bit childish for how he essentially was throwing a fit. It wasn't clear even to himself what was going on at this point.

“You're in my base,” Tango reminds him, grabbing his chin, “and you've stolen my items. I couldn't think of a better reason.”

This had all turned weirdly intimate, their faces inches apart as they seethed at each other. Deep down he sort of knew it was going to be fine, somehow finding warmth hidden in the other's gaze. Tango's voice had lowered, but not in the dark and angry way. It was almost sultry.

Flustering, the avian taunts, “Oooh, you wanna kiss me so bad!” It's entirely immature. And very out of line, had either been angry enough. But he desperately wanted to soothe the tension, chest tight from even the vague argument. So he did what he did best, make stupid, borderline flirtatious, jokes.

And for a second, Tango stares at him as if he was a fool. Which, he really was, so it fit. But then the blaze's cheeks warm and he seems to have an internal conflict of sorts. “What?” He finally mutters, brows furrowing again. 

Grian stares right back at him the whole time, utterly embarrassed but sticking by his own idiocy. “I said, ‘Oooh,’” he speaks slower, and a bit low, “‘you wanna kiss me-’”

He doesn't finish his echoed sentence, being grabbed by the arms and pulled close as Tango all but smashes their lips together. The taller hermit makes a noise akin to a growl, tail lashing. At first he's frozen, bewildered. It wasn't exactly the expected response. 

It seems like Tango is about to pull away, seeing as the avian had yet to do more than stare. But then Grian shuts his eyes and tosses his arms around his neck, kissing back. The blaze makes a quiet purring in response, tail moving to wrap around Grian's ankle instead of aggressively thrashing.

The kiss brimmed with burning passion, a shocking thing to occur between the two. This was so unlike their usual soft and gentle affections that Grian could feel his skin buzzing. His wings were spread out behind himself, twitching a bit as Tango nipped at his lower lip. Even his significantly smaller ear wings were raised, doing small flaps now and then. He tilted his head a bit, both to pursue a deeper kiss and to wordlessly try and figure out what the blaze wanted.

Another nip, then a hand grabbing the sides of his jaw and lightly pressing in a silent answer. Tango licks the avian's lips this time, making it even clearer. So with a muffled chirp, he parted his lips, letting him explore his mouth.

Simply holding his arm apparently was not enough. The blaze wrapped one of his own around Grian's waist, pulling him flush against his chest. He moved the other to rather gently pet the spot between his wings. It was a melting bliss. He made a mix of a groan and a trill, hearing a responding pleased grumble.

His own hands moved to grasp at Tango's hair, gentle but firmly there. Thankfully he isn't on his tiptoes, since the taller had been the one to initiate the kiss and had leaned down for it. Otherwise he may have accidentally tugged, what with how his legs felt wobbly. Though with how heated this all was, it may not have been an unwelcome action.

Tango occasionally catches Grian's lip between his teeth, rather pointy canines digging in before he'd let go and pass his tongue over the offended spot. Each and every time he earned a whine, and could hear the shorter hermit’s wings flap.

Then finally they break apart, lung capacity spent. They only leave inches between their faces, panting breaths mixing in a humid puff. Grian's eyes are lidded, staring up at the blaze with a befuddled mix of wonder and confusion. All that he gets in return is a huff and the electric look in Tango's gaze.

Flustered and red in the face, the avian sputters out a few breathless syllables. He wants answers to the many questions in his head, unsure when their energy went from purely frustrated to almost charged. It's a bit hopeless as his mind is reeling, and most of his noises are little trills. The blaze grins at that, like it was a victory on his part.

And then, Tango much more calmly leans down further to kiss his jaw softly. Grian gasps, fingers flexing in the other's hair, then tilts his head to the side as a go ahead. Safe to say this was all unexpected. It wasn't even that they'd never done any of this before. Just that the energy was so different, so much more intense.

Feather light kisses are peppered down his neck until Tango can't pull his turtleneck away any further. So he trails back up, pressing just a little more. Grian's hands are gripping tightly to his cape covered shoulders, thick fabric bunched between his fingers. He gasps as the blaze nips at his jaw, then lightly whacks him in the face with one of his ear wings. Mostly by accident.

“Hey-” Tango grunts, frowning a little as he pulls away enough to meet his gaze.

Taking a moment to regain coherent speech, Grian looks to the side. “Hey yourself,” he mumbles, a complaint in his voice.

“Too far?” The blaze asks, softening. He glances between Grian's blown pupils, smile a bit too smug.

He slowly nods, cheeks still hot. Then he looks at Tango again, taking in his red lips and heavy stare. “A bit. I'm not even sure where that came from.”

“Oh,” Blinking, he seems to think back, then snorts. “Probably from you saying I wanted to kiss you. Because I did.”

Wings puffing up in embarrassment, Grian makes a shrill noise, glaring heatlessly. “It wasn't an invitation.”

“You sure don't seem to regret it though. Can't say I do either, you look pretty all red lipped.” The blaze easily replies, smirking and leaning a bit closer.

Grian surges forward to hide his face against the taller man’s shoulder, grumbling as his face flushes all over again. He doesn't reply, hiding away as he ignores the festering pool of emotions in his chest. And the other doesn't seem to mind, rubbing his shoulder idly.

The moment is disturbed by Tango's communicator pinging, making the blaze pull it out from his robes. Grian pulls back slightly, then folds his wings carefully so he can turn in the man's arms and look at the device with him. He'll happily latch to a distraction.

It's a message from Zedaph, having another trophy challenge for him to participate in. Grumbling a bit, Tango starts to type a decline, but the small avian catches his wrist.

“Go, I have things to do too.” He leans his head on his friend's arm, looking up at him with a small smile. “And I know you want to, underneath your foggy instincts.” 

The funny thing is, Grian was easier to fluster and get entranced, but also returned to normal faster. This wasn't the case for Tango, who lingered in his emotions longer. Admittedly, this was mostly because the avian tended to ignore said emotions, but still.

Frowning, he stares at him before realizing he's right. So he deletes the draft and instead confirms he'll come. “Only because you're busy.”

“Liar,” The avian teases, narrowing his eyes. But then as Tango blushes, he looks away and sighs. He may want to ignore how he feels about a lot of this, but the guilt was returning. And that he didn't want to leave untended. “Hey uh, I'm sorry for lying. And generally for getting annoying about it after.”

Tango doesn't reply at first, putting his communicator back into some hidden pocket. But then he gently pulls Grian off of himself, turning him around to look at him properly. He's got two fingers under his chin, tilting his head up to meet his smiling face.

“It's fine, I already forgave you. I know you didn't mean anything by it.” Then, the blaze leans down and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. This is what their intimate interactions were usually like, soft and comforting. And yet this simple kiss serves to fluster Grian beyond belief.

“O-Oh!” He had chirped when his friend pulled away. “Great! Then, uh, have fun! Bye!” The avain promptly fled, just barely remembering to grab his bag on the way out.

✮✮✮

“And then I messaged you,” Grian finished, hands falling into his lap. He had tried to explain in as little detail as possible while still properly retelling the event, yet still felt a bit winded.

Taking a second to really soak in just what he's been told, the daemon takes in a breath. He smiles, sounding a bit surprised, “That's a lot to unpack, isn't it?”

“Yeah! It is! If you somehow missed that part, we all but made out!” He had left out the intimate details, of course. But it was hard to not mention how Tango had certainly wanted to continue. Grian's cheeks got warm just thinking back on it.

Now seeing just what was going on in the avian's brain, Impulse grins widely. “We? So you kissed back?” Grian flushes, silent aside from a nod. “Did you enjoy it?”

“What kind of question-?!” He squawks, eyes widening as he whips his head to the side. Getting only a smug look, he wrings his hands. “I mean, yeah? I wouldn't kiss him near regularly if he wasn't good at it.”

The daemon snickers, shaking his head. “That's not entirely what I meant.” Seeing as Grian still didn't get it, he sighs and takes a small sip of his water, finishing it off. “G, when you two usually kiss, does it feel the same as today?”

He thinks about it, brows furrowed in confusion. “Um, I mean, no. But we haven't ever made out. Not fully, anyways. Our relationship is…” Grian trails off, waving a hand idly as if beckoning his thoughts forth. “I don't know, softer? This was more aggressive.”

“Well you did bicker seconds before,” Impulse points out, leaning on the island counter. “So then, was it a good different?”

“Um,” The avian squints at him, as if expecting the taller man to have an ulterior motive. That one he had to properly consider. He'd been so caught up in the why that he hadn't even considered how he felt about it. 

Tango had held him so close, grip firm yet somehow still gentle. And there had been a fierce passion that sparked between them for the first time. Sure, there was always affection and genuine love in their usual exchanges, but… that was always platonic.

It hit him at about the same time Impulse waved a hand in front of his face. Blinking rapidly, he looks up at his grin and flushes a bright red. “I suppose it was,” he finally answers.

“Looks like you have it figured out now,” Impulse murmurs, a spark of pride in his eyes. “Knew you'd get there eventually!”

“Yeah,” the avian breathes. It's been a very long time since he's fallen for someone. It all feels so bizarrely foreign, complicated and messy. It's a bitHe doesn't have the time to fully let it sink in, wings puffed up in embarrassment. “Thanks, Impulse.”

“Anytime, bud,” he easily replies, patting his shoulder. “I'm more than happy to help out, you know that.”

They have tea, easing into unrelated topics. Grian keeps zoning out as his friend rattles off The Soup Groups latest goof. He doesn't mean to, genuinely interested in what Impulse has to say, but he's a bit weary after all the emotional processing he's done today. 

There's a lot of questions in his head. Namely, does he feel the same? A dreadful sort of itching crawls up his spine at the idea of it. It takes hold just under his wings, making him drag his clawed fingers over the spot over and over.

When he'd confessed to Doc a while back it wasn't anything like this. The creeper hybrid had gently turned him down, and that was that. They just returned to being purely platonic friends. And they still are. So why was Tango so different? Was he really so attached to the blaze already? 

“G?” The daemon taps his arm gently, thin tail folded over on his lap. He's smiling softly, a concerned twist in the corners. His brows furrow as Grian jolts, warm hand remaining on his arm. It feels like it's burning.

Taking a breath, Grian looks up from his empty tea cup, meeting the other's gaze. “I'm okay, don't worry.” Then the combination of burning and itching is too much and he pulls his arm away.

The avian looks out the window behind Impulse. “Sorry. I should get going,” he shakes out his wings a little, then hops down from the stool, out of the other's reach.

“Oh, well alright.” Standing as well, Impulse refrains from stepping back into his space. He's not totally sure what's wrong, but it isn't the first time Grian's gotten like this. He trusts him to self regulate, and he doesn't seem to be doing horribly.

“Thanks again for the advice,” He smiles, tone warm and genuine despite the unsteady shake in it. “See you.”

“No problem,” The daemon replies, idly itching at the base of one of his short horns. He frowns slightly as it makes Grian shiver. But before he can say anything else the shorter hermit is leaving the room, footsteps gaining speed as they become fainter. 

Maybe he should have Mumbo check in with the avian. Scar would be too quick to try to hug him, and Tango is… well he's out of the question for now. 

Nodding slightly to himself as he distantly hears Grian take off, he picks up his communicator and sends a quick message to the lanky redstoner. Then he gets to cleaning up the kitchen, brows pinched.

-

heres the quote of the week! I laughed so hard when i found it, I couldn't just not use it

a few things as well, incase i didnt make it obvious in the fic! tango used to be in a triad with impulse and zedaph a while back... things happened and now hes purely just friends with them! impulse became like an older brother to him, and zedaph got back with impulse ^^

and this is (clearly) set before scar, tango, and grian got together LOLL

more is to come on all of this, im very normal about it! (lies) and i have a lot of ideas for their relationships and everything :D

anygay, thanks for reading!! have a great week!! I'll be back on Sunday!! <3

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 3: The Twins

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when Easy Company finally starts getting settled in 2023?

Words: 3,440

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's Note: (Link to picrew in collage) Hey everyone!! I just wanted to say that part of this chapter mentions irl Easy Company and I wanted to emphasize that this work means absolutely NO disrespect to the real veterans - this work of fiction is based solely on the characters in the TV Series 💖

“Well, how do y’all like 2023 so far?” Zay asked over her shoulder, the three arriving at a pair of elevators.

“It’s certainly… something,” Joe replied hesitantly, causing Zay to let out a quiet giggle. The trio made their way back to the emergency room, Zay leading them back to the beds. The nurse stopped at another desk similar to the one Liebgott and Speirs saw before, asking which bed Malarkey was in. After the short conversation, Zay led Liebgott and Speirs through the maze of hospital beds and patients before finally arriving at the rest of Easy Company. They saw Malarkey laying in his bed, the top half of the bed raised so the soldier was sitting up. The rest of the boys were spread around his bed, some in chairs, others standing and leaning against the wall. Zay could barely contain her shock and excitement - ten people from the show that she has seen way too many times, honestly she could probably quote each episode word for word, were right before her. Surveying the men, Zay smiled and put her hands on her hips.

“So this is Easy Company,” she mused before all of the boys who were sitting compulsively shot to their feet, quickly reminding Zay of the strict etiquette rules of their time. She let out a laugh before she said, “Oh sit please! No need to stand on ceremony!” What Zay did not know was that the men were utterly enamoured - they did not know what to make of the nurse. She was unlike anyone any of them had ever met; she was bright, bubbly, outgoing, but exuded an air of openness and authenticity, something that made the boys feel safe and at home, even in such an alien place. One by one, the boys who were sitting slowly sat back down.

Suddenly snapping back into his leadership role, Dick stepped forward and outstretched his hand. “Ma’am, I’m Richard Winters, thank you for meeting with us,” he said politely, trying desperately to hide his nerves. Dick felt something he had never felt before - simultaneously, he felt safe and comfortable, but incredibly nervous, as if he was going to say something wrong. Zay smiled and shook Dick’s hand with a gentle but decisive grip - he could have sworn there was a spark.

“Azalea Bennett! You can call me Zay though,” she introduced herself to the captain. “And I think I know everyone here…” Zay took a survey around the small area sectioned off by rolling curtain dividers. “Looks like we have Lewis Nixon, George Luz, Bill Guarnere, Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Doc Roe, an injured Don Malarkey,” she pointed to each man as she named him before turning to look beside her. “Joe Liebgott, Ron Speirs,” Zay finally turned to the quiet leader before her, “and captain Dick Winters.” There were mixed reactions from the boys. Most of the company were impressed and amused by the nurse’s memory, while Guarnere and Toye kept their guard up.

“How the fuck do you know our names?” Guarnere asked defensively.

“Don’t swear around the lady Gonorrhea!” Toye scolded as he smacked the man’s arm.

Zay let out another laugh before Guarnere could retaliate at his friend. “Okay, first, I don’t give a fuck if you swear around me,” Zay commented. The twenty eyebrows in the room shot to the ceiling when they heard the lady swear so casually - maybe they might like 2023. “And to answer your question… I’m not really sure how to tell y’all this,” she buried her hands in her shirt pockets, looking at the ground. “So… um…” Zay tried to find her words, the eight soldiers waiting anxiously. “There’s this TV show, called Band of Brothers, that follows the soldiers of Easy Company and all of their missions and challenges as they fight the Germans in Europe.” Zay meekly looked up to survey the boys, trying to gauge their reactions. Some looked at her with their jaws on the floor, unable to believe her words. Others were staring into space, attempting to process the revelation. Speirs and Liebgott were surveying the reactions with Zay, while Malarkey spoke up.

“So, here, we’re all just characters in a TV show?” There was a certain quality to Don’s voice - it almost sounded like disappointment. Back home, or at least in Europe, they were fighting the war to end all wars. Here, they were just some characters on television.

“Well, not exactly,” Zay explained, “your characters are all based on real people that really fought in Europe, y’all are portraying them in the show, telling their stories.”

“So if we looked for them, we could find people with our names?” George asked from beside the hospital bed.

“Well… you’d have to look in cemeteries,” Zay replied solemnly, “the war was eighty years ago, I don’t think anyone from Easy Company is still alive.” Heads nodded in understanding to Zay’s statement. “Do y’all know how you got here? Or how to get back?” Zay asked the men, scanning their faces with her ultramarine eyes. Her eyes may have been framed by her glasses, but they never obscured the authenticity that shone from her expressions.

“Hate to say it, but no, we have no idea how any of this happened,” Nixon spoke up from his spot leaning on the wall.

“So what exactly happened?” Zay replied, stepping a bit closer to the group. The men looked around at each other… who was going to tell her what happened? Would she believe them? Would this be the breaking point?

Eugene spoke up after a beat of silence, “Well, we were in Bastogne, and we started taking hits, so of course I dove into a foxhole. Except, I never hit the bottom…” the medic looked down at his hands, as if this was painful to remember. “It was probably only a few seconds, but honestly, it felt like I was falling for ages, and everything was pitch black,” he mumbled the last part under his breath, “it was terrifying.” Roe took a deep breath and shook his head, shaking away the painful memories. “Next thing I knew, I was landing on the concrete, and all these boys were falling from the sky.” Roe pointed around the room with a small smile on his face, earning a sparse chuckle from the room.

“I saw him fall in and not come out, so I jumped in to try and see what happened, then the same thing happened to me,” Liebgott spoke up from behind Zay. “Then that one landed on top of me,” he pointed at Bull with a smirk. “Don’t know how I didn’t bite it.” The group laughed as Bull shot Joe a wink.

“You’re welcome,” Randleman replied with a laugh.

“Toye and I went in after Bull,” Guarnere chimed in, “then I think Lieutenant Speirs tumbled in after us.” He looked over to Ron, who has been leaning on the wall next to Nixon.

“Yeah, a blast threw me backwards into the foxhole,” the officer explained.

“When I saw him go in I wanted to make sure he was okay, so of course I followed,” Nixon added.

“Of course I couldn’t let him go alone,” Winters interjected with a laugh, giving heart eyes to his best friend.

“When I saw the captain go in, the bombardments finally stopped, so Luz and I ran over to make sure he was okay, but of course that didn’t go as planned,” Malarkey shot a playful glare to Luz, who was sitting on the floor near the foot of his bed.

“I said I was sorry!” Luz held up his hands in surrender. The group let out another laugh - everyone could tell that they were starting to relax in the unfamiliar environment.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how we could get back to our own… time, do you?” Dick asked the nurse, looking at her with shyer eyes than he had intended.

“I have no idea, but I’d be happy to help you figure it out!” she said with a smile, the brightest smile any of the men had seen. “Do y’all have a place to stay?”

“Can’t say that we do,” Winters answered, glancing back at Nixon - the officer nodded his head, affirming Winters’ statement.

“If y’all want, you’re more than welcome to stay with me and my sister,” Zay offered bashfully, her eyes going to the floor. “My sister watches the show, so she’d know you guys too.” Everyone looked to captain Winters to see what his decision was. No one would admit it, but each of the men were hoping that their CO would agree to stay with the blue-haired girl.

Dick took a moment to think it over before he replied, “I’m not really sure if we have any other option.” He smiled and nodded his head at Zay, a silent acceptance of her offer for a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep.

“Great! My sister’s actually on her way, I’ll talk to the doctor and see if we can get Malarkey discharged,” Zay replied happily, a bounce appearing in her step as she walked off to the desk in the middle of the room.

“I think I might like 2023,” Luz spoke up with a smirk.

“Hey! I saw her first!” Liebgott spoke up indignantly, sending a glare to Luz.

“Men, she is our host here and you will treat her with respect,” Winters scolded his men in a firm tone. Nixon and Speirs could not help but let out a scoff at Dick’s words, both of the officers quickly going to cover their mouths. “What?” Winters prodded, becoming slightly defensive at their antics.

“Dick, we all saw how you looked at her earlier,” Nixon responded in earnest. Before the captain could reply, their modern-times hostess returned to the group.

“Y’all are all set to go! My shift ends in a few minutes, so as soon as my sister gets here we’ll head out,” she explained happily, bubbly energy exuding from her.

“Thank you for helping us,” Eugene spoke up, a humble and thankful expression on his face, “I know you kind of know us, so to speak, but still, to take ten strangers into your home is one of the biggest acts of kindness I’ve seen.” Zay blushed a bright red and turned her gaze to the floor, unable to hide the smile spreading across her face.

“It’s nothing, really,” she replied shyly, “but that means a lot to hear from you.” Zay met Roe’s gaze for a moment before going back to the floor, her blush nearly matching her hair in regards to the saturation of the color. Before anyone could chastise Roe for his (what Roe would call unintentional) flirtations, everyone heard an odd sound come from Zay’s pocket. Only Zay knew that the sound was her cell phone’s ringtone, Somebody to Love by Queen, but all Easy Company heard was an unfamiliar song and the voice of an angel. The nurse pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up to her ear. “Hey! Are you here?... Great! I’ll meet you by my car! See you in a sec!” Zay tapped the lit-up rectangle before putting it back in her pocket. “My sister Chrys just got here! Stay here, I’ll get my things and then we can head out.” She turned on her heel, her signature bounce appearing in her step. Liebgott waited for the nurse to be out of earshot before turning to the medic seated next to Malarkey.

“TaKiNg StRaNgErS iNtO yOuR hOmE-” Before Liebgott could finish his mockery of Roe, the medic spoke up to defend himself.

“Hey! I’m just trying to be nice!” Eugene rebutted, voice laced with his trademark Cajun accent. Liebgott, Luz, and Roe began to bicker over flirting with Zay, Guarnere and Toye leaning back and watching the show with amusement. Bull looked on at the three arguing as well, waiting to see how things would turn out. Before things got too out of hand, Zay returned, a multicolored backpack slung across her shoulder.

“Alright! Malarkey is free to go! Ready boys?” She asked, clearly trying to contain her excitement. All ten boys felt their hearts warm at the sight. Roe helped Malarkey out of the bed, the redhead starting to stand on his own. Zay led the men to the elevator, the eleven of them packing in like sardines. Zay wound up squished between the corner, Winters, and Luz. She pushed a button on the side with the label “Garage” beside it before she smiled shyly at the men, backing up against the wall as much as she could. Luz and Winters tried to give the girl as much space as they could, but of course, said space was quite limited. While Winters kept his gaze firmly affixed on his feet, as if he would lose them if he looked away, George snuck a glance at Zay, returning her shy smile as he noticed the blush on her cheeks. As soon as her eyes met his, Zay immediately shifted her gaze to the floor, now staring at her shoes just as intently as Winters. Luz had to bite his lip to keep his smile from growing wider. All too quickly the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the gray concrete of the hospital's parking garage. The boys filed out quickly, waiting for Zay to lead them to her car.

To anyone else, the group would look like little lost ducklings following their colorful mother duck. A mixture of emotions swam around the group - some were relieved that they found someone who not only knew this time period, but also knew them and liked them. Others were still coming to terms that something as fantastical as time travel happened to the company. How were they going to explain this to the rest of Easy? Or to Colonel Sink? Others in the group continued to be wary of Zay, especially Speirs and Guarnere. While they were greateful for the help, how did they know they could trust her? As for Zay, a mixture of emotions coursed through her body - excitement that she was about to spend time with the people who lived in her head rent-free, joy that she could help people who were need, and a hint of doubt that this was all actually happening… if she told anyone about this, would they believe her?

Zay led the group before everyone noticed the lights illuminate on a yellow car with a soft roof. The car had an emblem with a running horse on the back of it, something that only Zay recognized as a Ford Mustang. As if on cue, a bronze, sleek sports car came around the corner and stopped near the men. Zay put her backpack in her car's trunk before greeting the driver stepping out of the newly arrived Nissan Z-Car. The driver was a woman with short, curly black hair, the bangs and tips dyed bright firetruck red. Her look was punctuated by a pair of minimalist snake-bite piercings beneath her lower lip. The girl was wearing a set of auto-mechanic’s coveralls in classic navy blue, the name “Chrys” embroidered in cursive on the front. Zay engulfed the newcomer in a hug, earning the nurse a mild scolding.

“Zay! You’re gonna make me fall!” the girl laughed before loosely returning Zay’s ambush hug. Zay simply giggled and pulled away enough to talk to the girl, Zay’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder.

“Sorry Chrys! I just got excited,” Zay replied, turning her head to look at the group around her car. “Boys, this is my twin sister Chrys! She was kind enough to take the rest of the evening off work to help y’all get settled,” she announced, looking at Chrys with a proud smile. Chrys offered an awkward wave and a “hello” to the rest of group, not expecting the introduction. The boys replied in greeting before Liebgott spoke up.

“Shit! Captain Winters, we need to get our weapons from up front,” he reported urgently. Zay gave the group a confused look before Joe explained further, “We weren’t allowed to bring our weapons into the hospital, so we stashed them in the bushes up front, we put our helmets there too so we wouldn’t have to carry them.”

Zay nodded in understanding before turning to Chrys, “Do you wanna take half in your car and half in mine, then one of us can put their weapons in the trunk?”

Chrys nodded, turning to the group in front of her. “Alright guys, we gotta split up into two groups for the cars, who wants to go with who?”

“I’ll go with Zay!” Luz volunteered, all too eagerly.

“Me too!” followed Liebgott, glaring at Luz.

Nixon chuckled and shook his head at their antics. “I can go with Chrys,” he offered, meeting her eyes for the first time. Just like that, he knew he needed to know her.

“Me too,” Speirs chimed in. He refused to be in the same car as a bickering Luz and Liebgott.

“Can I just have a front seat, whoever I ride with?” Bull asked around his Emotional Support Cigar.

“Yeah sure, I think my front is roomier,” Chrys replied, Zay nodding along.

“Malarkey, do you and Doc Roe wanna come with me, so that you have medical support just in case anything happens?” The two men nodded in response to her question. Winters simply folded his arms, trying to mask his disappointment with focus. “And then captain Winters can take the last seat in my car, so that we have the officers spread out?” Dick’s eyes lit up at Zay’s offer, trying his best to just act casual.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he rambled out. “That leaves Guarnere and Toye with Chrys, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Guarnere responded. He looked at Toye for his response, who nodded along.

“So it’s Nixon, Speirs, Bull, Guarnere, and Toye with Chrys, and Winters, Roe, Malarkey, Liebgott, and Luz with me, right?” Zay said, confirming the riding arrangements.

“Sounds about right,” Chrys agreed. “Now, just so y’all know, we each only have four seats technically, so someone is going to have to lay across three of y’all in the back.” Some of the men’s eyes grew wide, while others laughed at the notion.

“Enjoy figuring that out, boys,” Bull mused while walking to Chrys’ car. After a few more minutes of discussion and bickering, moderated by Winters, the seating arrangements were agreed upon. In Zay’s car, Malarkey would ride in the front, with Winters, Liebgott, and Roe in the back, Luz laying on top of them. In Chrys’ car, Bull would be in the front, with Nixon, Speirs, and Guarnere sitting in the back, and Joe Toye laying across them. Everyone shifted into their assigned seats/positions, some more willingly than others.

“Someone’s gonna fucking die…” Toye muttered under his breath as he laid across the three men, anger exuding from every pore in his face. Speirs and Nixon were able to keep a straight face, albeit with substantial effort, while Bull simply turned his face away and focused on his ESC. Guarnere, however, could not help the giggles that befell him. The harder he tried to suppress them, the more intense they became. Toye made a mental note to get Gonorrhea back for this…

Meanwhile, in the yellow mustang, Luz was getting situated on his human couch, inadvertently sticking his ass right into Liebgott’s face. “Hey! Watch where you’re sticking that thing!” Joe yelled as he tried to evade touching George’s ass with his face.

“Yeah! That’s a dangerous weapon!” Malarkey called out from his seat up front. Everyone in the car erupted into laughter, save for Luz who shot Don a playful glare.

“I said I was sorry like a million times!” the radioman yelled, sounding very much like a little kid. Once both sisters knew everyone was situated, they drove out of the parking garage. Stopping briefly to place their once-hidden belongings in Chrys’ trunk, the two cars made their way to the twins’ apartment complex. Something that blew the boys’ minds while en route was how the girls played their music during the drive. At first, the men assumed they just had a radio in their cars, which they thought was neat already. However, when Chrys and Zay explained to their respective soldiers how “the cloud” and Spotify work, their minds were utterly blown. This was all the twelve kids talked about as they made their way home.

~~~~~

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

As always thank you so much for reading!! Chapter 4 will drop next week 😁💕

[textsfromthetva]

Ok forget what I said... I found an interview that the director from EP02 said the Brad Wolfe in mcu is different from the comic....

Soooooo Brad Wolfe won't be possessed by demonic entity like in the comic... this makes theory that X-05 dispose the real Brad even more dark... oh man.

I was about to reply to your first message and tell you that I'm basing every one of my opinion and ideas on series canon only, but you beat me to it 😅

the implication in this interview here is that X-5 stole Brad's life wholesale, and that means Sacred Timeline Brad has to be, um, gone... funnily enough the head writer being interviewed seems wholly uninterested in the details.

Quote from the link: In episode one, when he picks up Mobius’ Jet Ski magazine, he seems to realize, “This is something from the timeline. Wait a second, I have a life down there, too. I need to go check mine out.” And so he went and did that, and he ended up realizing, "Oh, this is pretty cool. I want to live that.” So he got into that life, and he’s been enjoying it for maybe a couple years.

'So he got into that life'... what does that even mean, Eric Martin? What happened to the original Brad Wolfe, Eric Martin? why don't you care, Eric Martin??

well I obviously care, and I'm going to make it everyone's problem

PS: as you said in the first ask (which will remain unpublished) Brad fans really do like the idea of torturing him even more in our fics, what's up with that? that's a rhetorical question, it's because whump is a thing, and arrogant characters are perfect subjects for that genre.

[uniquevoidflowers]

@onceuponaladye, you wanted a fic based off the words, wander and threaten.

Here you go:

The captain was having a stressful day, almost losing one of their own to poison. They were in his era, and Warriors had a *ahem* reputation with the citizens. Let’s just say…he was not…liked around certain parts of his Hyrule. During the War of Ages there was a lot of loss on the people’s part, soldiers lives were lost, and unfortunately Warriors was the target for all the vengeance the people were trying to achieve. So the captain had concluded that one of the people saw the veteran and him hanging out and being friendly and wanted to aim for Warriors’ loved ones. Which greatly upset Warriors. That meant there will be somebody lurking in the shadows, plotting to bring him to his demise. This put both him and the chain in danger. He was sitting in camp, trying to prepare for if his suspicions are correct. “Captain?” Time’s voice reached his ears.

“Yes?” Warriors responded cautiously, hearing the slight panic and worry in the old man’s usually deadpan voice.

“You know how the veteran decided to wander earlier?” Time replied.

Warriors grew concerned and turned around to see Time standing there. “I do. Get to the point Sprite.” 

“We got a rather mysterious note, telling us that Legend has been taken. We can’t find him anywhere, and his charm isn’t responding to Wind’s.” Time explained. 

Warriors paled and sat frozen in horror. He was too late. All this stressful planning and the enemy had already managed to get to him. “Show me the note, please.” Warriors begged.

“I’ll grab it.” Time obliged and left.

A few minutes later he reappeared with a piece of paper in his hands. Warriors grabbed the paper without hesitation and read it over.

To Link:

We’ve found you. And we’ve taken someone that you seem to care about a lot. We’ve kidnapped the pink haired lad and if you don’t come and surrender yourself, well, the boy will not come back to you alive. We will happily send you back the corpse. We better see you at dawn at the tavern. You know which one. See you soon.

“Damn it all!” Warriors yelled the cruel note slipping out of his hands and landing softly on the ground.

Time stood there with an extremely worried expression, brows furrowed. “What does this mean captain? Are they addressing you?” 

“Yeah…Look, I don’t have a good relationship with the people of my Hyrule. They blame me for the deaths in the war, and do anything they can to try and kill me.” Warriors informed the old man, squeezing his eyes shut with dread.

Time’s eyes widened and he picked up the note and reread it again. “But you…you can’t surrender yourself.” 

“Ultimately, it may came to that. But, we can strategize here. If you all could come in after I ’surrender myself’” The captain curled his fingers to emphasize the quote. If they were going to threaten the lives of both the captain and the veteran, Warriors couldn’t let them succeed. “Then you might be able to rescue both me and the vet.” Warriors decided.

“You’re right. They’ll pay for this, and I do have extra back-up.” Time nodded. 

“The…mask?” Warriors guessed.

“I shouldn’t have to, but if I must, this is a sure way to stop them.” Time affirmed. 

The captain agreed. In the War of Ages, Time used the Fierce Deity Mask nonstop, and it was honestly terrifying. It consumed Time like he was nothing. The two elucidated the plan to the rest of the heroes and near dawn they set out for the tavern the note alluded to. It was that shady place that the captain had gone to once when he was tired and stressed just after the war. He hadn’t known about the people’s fury with him, he had just wanted to settle down and drink. The captain was ambushed and beaten until he had managed to escape. But just barely. This time he was armed, prepared, ready to take on whatever was thrown at him, and to save the dear vet. He swung open the wooden door and kept a hand on the hilt of his blade, eyes darting around and waiting for the enemy. “Well, well, well, ya actually showed up!” A manly voice chuckled darkly. 

Warriors spun around behind him to see a Hylian man, standing there with a cigarette in his mouth and a smirk spread on his face. “Surprised?” Warriors gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing at the man. 

“Pffft of course not! Now, now, let’s git ta business shall we? Drop yer weapons and I’ll show ya what it’s like ta lose someone.” The man had a stupid sadistic grin on his face. 

The captain resisted the urge to snap at the man and dropped his pouch and blade on the ground, then some other guys grasped his hands. Warriors glared at the ground, wishing that he didn’t have to do this. But he had to, for Legend. He was led to the back where he found the veteran hero sitting in a cell, hands tied and mouth covered. The hoarder was unconscious, and there was a concerning amount of blood around him. Warriors was tied up accordingly and he watched as they grabbed Legend and the captain panicked a little. What were they doing? “Pay close attention hero.” The man spat the word hero maniacally and grabbed a dagger.

Warriors’s eyes were wide, terrified. He knew they had a plan, but it was too hard not to be afraid. The captain desperately hoped the others would arrive about now. The man readied his dagger and was about to impale Legend when he made a startled noise and fell over backwards, his knife clattered to the ground, and he landed with a thud. The perpetrator was none other than Sky, the last hero Warriors expected to see. The two big guys that had tied him up cried out and lunged at the skyloftian. But Sky dodged them swiftly and stabbed them with grace. The captain gaped. “There’s no others, right?” Sky asked.

“I don’t think so.” Warriors answered, numbly. 

Had he made too much of a fuss? “Good. You’re not harmed, are you?” Sky questioned.

“No, no.” Warriors shook his head. 

The chosen took a sigh of relied and untied both Warriors and Legend. “Mission successful!” Sky called out. 

The traveller rushed in almost immediately and scooped the veteran up. “They did a number on him.” Hyrule cursed under his breath. 

“Let’s go.” Sky demanded and they quickly walked out, the others following suit. 

They sprinted back to camp and Legend was quickly laid on a bedroll, being attended to by the traveller and the old man. The captain sighed and sat down, feeling ashamed. Sky had easily defeated the men, and Warriors had made it seem like the enemy was as great of a deal as Cia was. Warriors could’ve probably taken them on. Abruptly Sky sat next to the captain and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey are you okay?” The chosen asked.

“M’fine. Just feel stupid.” Warriors mumbled.

“Why do you feel that way?” Sky tilted his head.

“You defeated those guys so easily, yet there I was terrified out of my mind, making the whole thing a huge deal.” Warriors admitted.

“It was a huge deal Wars. Legend was about to be killed, you had surrendered yourself, so you had no weapons and you were tied up. They had a weapon, a knife, and they were trying to put you through hell. Wars, I killed a god, I had weapons, I had an advantage there, of course I defeated them easily. That didn’t make it any less of a threat. Plus, even if it didn’t seem like it, you were so brave. You had the courage to walk up in there and fulfill your part of the plan. You did great.” Sky comforted, a warming smile written on his face.

The captain thanked the skyloftian quietly. Sky had made so many good points there, and Warriors felt a little bit better. Hopefully Legend would recover soon. 

[acetone4veins]

About me and links to my writing and hcs!!

Andi, she/her, 20

Latina - fluent in English and Spanish

Currently studying Behavioral and Cognitive Neuroscience

This blog is primarily for all iterations of mean girls

Will also probably post anything related to Reneé, including slocg

You can find me on my main blog here where I mainly reblog random text posts or things for other fandoms I'm in

Multishipper!!! You'll see me reblogging posts for a variety of mg ships because I love all of them

Always willing to talk so feel free to send me messages or asks or prompts about anything!!!

Click read more for an updated list of my works and hcs!

Navigational tags

#andi speaks for text posts #andi writes for fics #andi answers for responses to asks

was i born with this longing inside me? (will it ever go away?)

30k word Regina character study about her relationship with touch over a span of 10 years, no ships but explores her relationships with her parents, little sister, Janis, and the plastics, lots of angst and hurt/comfort but happy ending

all i want is her to get lost in

Regina/Janis established relationship, 4k oneshot, fluff and minor hurt/comfort, scenes of them and the five love languages plus a bonus at the end, this is literally so soft

feel the music more (when i’m with you)

Regina/Cady, multichapter au, cady’s a dedicated student who has to learn how to dance in order to get into her dream college, regina’s a former prodigy who’s been missing from the dance scene ever since an injury, based off the movie Work It on netflix

someday i'll be falling without caution

Regina/Gretchen, 1.9k words where they talk about what they mean to each other before senior year, hurt/comfort with a hopeful ending

Cadina Week Works

that's what scares me the most (knowing that you could just let me go)

Regina/Cady, 7.2k oneshot, day 1: tutoring/jealousy, fluff and hurt/comfort, cady starts tutoring a mathlete girl during senior year and regina doesn't take it well

so sweet with a mean streak (nearly brought me to my knees)

Regina/Cady, 5.9k oneshot, day 2: college, fluff, academic rivalry, regina's rivalry with a girl in her chemistry lecture escalated beyond just a rivalry

as if i'm not what you're waiting for (like i'm not in your ending)

Regina/Cady, 8.8k oneshot, day 3: bed sharing/reunion, emotional hurt/comfort, regina shares a hotel room with cady after not seeing her for eight years and old emotions resurface

i'm the wreckage and all of the damage

Regina/Cady, 5.4k oneshot, day 5: hurt comfort/scars, post bus fic where cady can't help but fixate on the new scars regina has

i'll meet judgement by the hounds

Regina/Cady, 1.8k oneshot, day 6: au/touch, short introduction and set up for a medieval au in which regina is a princess and cady is the assassin sent to kill her

Headcanon posts

Regina angst Regina fluff Gen Regina hcs Regina's chronic pain Gretchen's anxiety ADHD Regina Autistic Cady Rejanis Autistic Regina More autistic Regina Enby Regina Gen Gretchen hcs Autistic Gretchen Gretchen + giving people nicknames in Spanish

Characters/Relationships + quotes I relate them to

Part 1 Part 2

I'm always happy to accept requests and prompts, or even just asks about hcs for certain characters or ships - and like I mentioned before I am a multishipper! Willing to write for pretty much any combination of the female characters (including poly ships!!), especially any Regina ships since I find it easiest to write from her pov. Also willing to take asks about slocg! If you're wondering whether I'd write for a certain ship - go ahead and send it and I will tell you!!

[freedvmrouge]

Dynamic Duo Spectulation: Oct 2, 2024

I'm posting this for posterity (and even if it doesn't happen, I'm interested in writing a fic based on it). I initially wrote this all to @beemotionpicture the afternoon she sent me the announcement, which I then spiraled into several news articles in my rush to verify. This has been heavily cleaned up for clarity lol

Links to the sources should be attached to the screenshots.

I think it's fascinating that they titled it Dynamic Duo actually, because that's typically what Batman and Robin are referred to as.

This gives me hope of a really good relationship between Dick and Jason, though. Like, you wouldn't be nicknamed DYNAMIC DUO if you didn't get along. Also, it IS NOT connected to Battinson or the Penguin TV canons.

This quote makes me think that Dick is going to be Jason’s Batman. It's going to be a unique Batman and Robin story, and yet articles continuously describe the animated film as a Robins story. They've both been Robins, but only one has been Batman in an official capacity (do not talk to me about Battle for the Cowl).

As such, I think it's going to be sort of an amalgamation of Jason, Tim, and Damian's stories.

Side note: I think, because animated works need to be planned out in so much more detail, make sure every frame counts, they can't go implementing long-winded explanations you could get in live-action or even comic books with supplementals. For instance, Batman: The Long Halloween. The reason for the Holiday Killer's tenure is different in the comic book and animation because the real reason would be too long-winded and complicated for a one-shot film. The reason why Jason was resurrected is also different in comic (superboy prime) vs. animation (lazarus pit).

Jason was the second Robin, he was what made Robin a legacy. Most people don't even know that there's more than one Robin to begin with, so DC might as well start from the (relative) beginning.

Tim and Dick in canon are more friendly and brotherly, and Bruce being gone was what forced Dick to become Damian's Batman.

Bruce is not going to be in the Dynamic Duo movie bc there are already two other movies with Batman in them (Batman II and Batman: Brave and the Bold with Damian—which, side note again, I thought was going to be Dick and Damian again like in the DCAMU briefly), which forces Dick to be the newly minted Robin Jason's Batman.

Then: “...becomes tested by their diverging ideas for what their future should be.” This seems to support my idea that it's going to end up being a Robin Dick ideology vs. Robin Jason ideology.

It could start off as Dick telling Jason what a Robin should do, how a Robin should be. But then they clash and Jason makes Robin his own, that kinda thing.

They both love Robin, but due to their different backgrounds, priorities, and experiences, they would have different ideas for what the future of Robin should be.

However, I think that they'll already be friends/brotherly before this transition even happens.

So, the switch up in roles is going be an exploration of what Robin means to Dick as the original holder and how it means to Batman, now that that's him. But along the way, it showcases what Robin means to Jason, the current holder, because this Batman and Robin duo are naturally going be vastly different to the Batman and Robin of Dick's tenure.

If you've read this far, thanks ✌️

[pregstiel]

do a directors cut for the jack fic you wrote. the miserable one

gaze into the distant sky my beloved >:3. more general stuff out of the way first -- it was originally part of a completely different series! The Route of Flowers was conceived entirely separately as just a deconstruction of the beekeeper cas thing. when i first thought of gitds (way before i wrote it), it was supposed to be part of a 4 part exploration on how tfw 2.0 feels about the bunker (sam feels like he's been buried alive, cas is a visitor who is literally being slightly repelled by the warding, dean is having a great time). the jack fic had the strongest central imagery in comparison to the other ones, which was why it was the last man standing. then when i wrote The Route of Flowers after, i had gitds On The Brain, which is why they ended up being linked.

also for this fic i did so much research on ground nesting birds in minnesota. for no reason. whether or not this bird species is realistic has no relevance to anything in here.

on to more detailed stuff. i got the title from an anne brontë poem that i actually hadn't read before researching for this fic. i just couldn't think of a title so i googled poems with captive bird imagery until i found one that worked for it 😭. innovation.

"Dean doesn’t go on “pointless milk runs” with Cas, and Jack won’t either then."

i <3 when conspiring with the father won't save the daughter from her mother's fate. dean dismissing cas in front of jack and jack internalizing it because he wants dean's approval is SO important to me.

"Sam had already narrowed down where the vampire’s base could be to a small area, and he’s back in the motel room, listening in on the park rangers’ radio"

the product of me needing sam to Not Be There because this is between dean and jack. just throw in any explanation and call it a day

"It’s easy, Jack knows, the easiest hunt in the world, but he still can’t think about it without his breath speeding up and his heart pounding."

an important thing for me in this fic (which is also in the opening but that quote was too long), was that jack's ability to deal with the cognitive dissonance of monster hunting has been severely impacted by him losing his grace and now having to deal with the instinctive reactions of his body. when he was powered up he still felt these emotions, but he didn't have to deal as much with the visceral feeling of his heart spasming.

"He does it the way Cas told him: count to four on the inhale, hold it for seven, exhale for eight."

cas is the kind of father who will teach you a breathing exercise for your anxiety but won't stop you from going on a solo hike in the woods with your abusive stepdad <3. keep addressing the symptoms and not the cause, surely that will work out eventually!

"He had thought that at the very least, he wouldn’t have had to worry about that anymore, now that he was human."

this as a jack emotion for the central imagery of this (birds in a trap) wasn't something i thought of when i first thought of this fic, it only came in after i watched a ton of jack episodes.

" '– I mean, even with the boots, that’s going to go clean through' "

when their priorities are so different. when jack is focused on his guilt over almost crushing the chicks and all dean cares about is the hunt.

" 'Listen Jack, this head in the clouds shit is fine when you and Cas are doing… whatever you guys do together' "

again, dean being casually dismissive of cas to jack. really undermine his authority as a parent to his child.

"Jack doesn’t get the joke."

he's just like cas

" 'They don’t make miniature bears. Similar concept though – it’s a leg-hold trap, some asshole was probably trying to catch a fox or some shit.' "

the trap as a central metaphor for this fic was pretty important. sadly i conceived of it prior to really thinking of the logistics of it, and then drove myself crazy trying to make this more realistic. did you know they don't really make leg-hold traps with huge spikes anymore? sad but true. in general they don't really work like i needed them to in my fic, so i just said fuck it and gave up.

" 'Is it safe then? For the birds.' Jack rushes out, half-worried Dean will make fun of him for it, but Dean instead pauses for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he crouches down to examine the trap. The screaming of the fledglings increases in pitch as Dean comes closer."

jack does care about the birds as their own entities. but also relates to them and can't look directly at it. also when the birds don't like dean approaching. funny that

" 'you are not sticking your fingers in there. We’re not ambushing a vamp if your hand looks like it went ten rounds with a blender, and Cas’ll be pissed if any grievous bodily harm happens on my watch.' "

i wanted to at least try and thread the needle with this fic and not make dean a cartoon villain. we're in jack's pov and he's stressed the whole time, but dean is genuinely trying to be helpful here. dean can be nice to jack! he can be fun to be around! the issue is all the times he isn't.

"He balls his hands into fists, lets his nails bite into his skin – it’s not helping, and Jack wishes he could just shake his arms out, but Dean told him that was weird to do in public and he doesn’t know if the forest counts as public"

jack casual self-harm with the nails. like it could be innocuous for another person, but in the context of the show and jack's propensity for it i wrote it as self-harm; get all the emotions out through physical pain. also, the second part this was my attempt to gesture at jack stimming. this isn't the fic, but i again think that's something he would pick up once he lost his grace and had less of a shield in his body.

" 'Why would – why would their mother do that? Why would she build a nest somewhere so dangerous?' "

jack voice: i cannot get angry at cas. let me process by projecting on this bird instead.

"There’s a smile on Dean’s face, Jack knows. He doesn’t look away from the path in front of him to see it, even as he makes the corners of his mouth lift, answering Dean in turn."

again, i didn't want this fic to have cartoon villain dean. dean snaps, and then he tries to apologize and paper over it. the issue is that a.) jack is already constantly walking on eggshells and trying to keep dean calm due to The Incidents, so any display of anger is upsetting and awful and b.) dean doesn't care enough here to actually understand why jack's upset or comfort him. he just tries to make a joke and move on.

"Dean always ends up being right, in the end"

lines inspired by me being mad that the writers bend the world of supernatural to dean's whims.

"like that time when Dean told Cas that there was no way Led Zeppelin would let Beyoncé sample them"

in retrospect, i don't know if this part flows as much? i don't know. it feels a little jokey in comparison to the rest of the fic, but it does serve the important purpose of giving jack an inconsequential "dean being wrong" incident to cling to so it has to stay as a bridge. also again, dean dismissing cas. this whole thing is definitely vaguely inspired by the life skills cas discovering lady gaga section, but in reverse.

"He’s liked them ever since Cas started taking him on walks before Dean and Sam wake up so they can watch the falcons and sparrows swooping while the sky is orange and pink."

cas and jack bonding while the winchesters sleep is so important to me.

"Jack knows a lot about birds, and he knows that those birds knew, about the trap. How could they not? How could they live every day between steel jaws and not know that one day – maybe not now, but soon, that those jaws were going to snap shut, and devour them?"

i love jack projection so much. i love when he can't look at his situation directly and has to displace it, because if he thinks about the fact that one day, any day, he will be killed for being a "monster" his life will be untenable.

"Jack doesn’t know how their mother could do that to them. He knows what Dean said, and he doesn’t think it’s true, but he can’t think of another reason either. She has to love her babies. But if she loves them, why would she let them hatch somewhere dangerous, let them grow up afraid all the time? Jack can’t understand it."

again. jack voice: I CAN'T GET MAD AT CAS. he knows cas has to love him, but if he does why did this happen? why is jack here? also another jack moment here is taking responsibility from dean? if that makes sense? like of course dean will one day kill him. the sky is blue. dean can't change. what could change are the circumstances cas and jack live in, and their physical proximity to dean. but not dean himself. the idea never occurs to jack

"clearly does leave, since Jack didn’t see her. But that’s – that’s selfish of her."

the thing about them not wanting to pay misha collins. is that the situation is so horrible for jack. what if cloth mother kept leaving on week long trips and you were trapped in the dark all alone and scared until she came back

"Jack tries not to dwell on it, when he’s around. He tries to stop thinking about the nest altogether."

jack in this fic tries so hard to prioritize everyone else's feelings -- dean more out of trying to placate him, cas because he loves him and doesn't want to hurt him by being upset. but as a consequence jack has no real space to process or fight back or even say what's bothering him.

"It’s not Jack that scares them. They know he’s going to help."

contrast between how the birds react to dean vs jack. also jack voice. yeah these birds definitely exist in a space of constant terror and panic

"If he’s lucky, he’ll even see the mother return, watch her fuss over her babies as she feeds them insects she’s found. Jack can’t tell if she even notices the difference."

i keep saying this. but god jack can't get mad at cas. he also can't really see the ways cas is trapped too. cas is an adult, jack thinks he could do something if he wanted to, that it has to be thoughtlessness or ignorance that has resulted in this situation, instead of the reality where cas can't extricate himself either. and to be clear, it's not jack's fault that he can't realize this, but it is another tragedy.

"Steel snaps. The peeping stops."

i really struggled with how to end this fic. i knew i wanted to end it on sublimated suicidal jack, and for discomfort to linger, but i had trouble writing it. if i remember correctly i had other versions with more description, but i think cutting it down definitely helped.

[cha-melodius]

Hi!! Just finished your firstprince spies fic and GODDDDD THAT WAS SO SO SO GOOD!! i absolutely loved everything about your story❤️ i really liked how detailed you were when describing all of their missions and i could totally picture henry being a all professional and closed off at first with alex being the one to break his walls with his fierceness hahahah

I loved the way the story evolved and how they got together!! the way they so clearly cared for each other from the very beginning ((the way henry flew to him and the moments they shared when he told alex he was good??? MY HEART BROKE I LOVED IT))!!

I really appreciate how much work you put into the story, it was absolutely amazing❤️ and the part of last chapter from henry’s pov was such a special treat!! i love reading and seeing things through his eyes so it was just *chef’s kiss*

Well, to stop the ramble: i fell in love with this story and them in this setting and it was amazing!! I live and breathe spy aus so thank you for creating this!!

Every time I go into my inbox I discover asks I meant to reply to days ago and completely forgot about. Which is to say, thank you so much for this lovely ask, and sorry it took me a bit to write back! The good part about having no short-term memory is that I get to delight in these lovely comments all over again.

I'll also take this opportunity to say that Nova, Baby has seen an uptick in readership lately thanks in part to some truly gorgeous CIA/MI6 AU art posted on twitter, which was not based on my fic but some very kind souls have linked the fic in the replies/quotes and I am so grateful to them. So thank you all so much for the love for my ridiculous spies, it means so much to me that people enjoy the fic that much.

(When I tell you I was half worried the fic would flop because there was very little like it in the fandom, especially pre-movie... 😅 Seems kind of silly now but it was a very real fear at the time given how much I put into it!)

[alphabetquest]

FAQs

Who is running this thing?

Hi, it’s me 👋🏻. @princessmisery666

What is the prompt schedule?

Sign-up opens on May 29, 2024, and will close on August 29, 2024

Prompts will be posted on the first of each month beginning September 1, 2024. 

Prompts can be filled and posted at any time. Submissions for a prompt can be made within a different month than the prompt was posted.

There is no deadline for submissions.

Cut-off to be included in the prize draw is May 31, 2025.  

Do I have to sign up for the challenge?

Yes, if you want your work reblogged to the @alphabetquest blog and my main blog. We all know Tumblr’s tags aren’t the best so something could be missed. I need to know which blogs to check.

Can I use a prompt from a different month?

Yes, once a prompt is posted, you can use it whenever inspiration strikes. However, please give credit and tag the blog. 

What characters can I write for? 

Here is the list of characters/fandoms that can be used for this challenge. If it’s not listed, just ASK. 

What other characters can I include?

Reader inserts, OCs, and crossovers are all welcome.

What kind of prompts will there be? 

Prompts are open to interpretation, but please feel free to ask if you are unsure of a prompt’s meaning or its spirit of intent.

Quotes and song lyrics quoted - should not be amended

Songs - use all or part (e.g., lyrics used as dialogue, soundtrack for fan video, or art based on the song’s vibe). Using the song title as the title of your piece is fine, but the content also needs to connect to the song in some way.

AUs, kinks, single-word prompts, etc. - use as you’d like based on the guidelines.

Can my creation include ships?

Yes. Except for m/m. Ships such as the following will not be accepted: 

Stucky (MCU) 

Bucky/Buck (Masters Of The Air) 

Hangman/Rooster, Hangman/Bob, Maverick/Rooster, Rooster/Bob, Hangman/Coyote, Maverick/Hangman (Top Gun Maverick)

Eddie/Buck (9-1-1)

Wincest, Dean/Cas, Sam/Cas, Sam/Lucifer, Dean/Benny. (Supernatural)

If you have a question about a ship’s eligibility, just ASK.

What types of prompts will be posted?

Tropes, songs, lyrics, dialogue, and random words. Each letter will have 9 prompts. For example, A will have 3 songs, 3 dialogue, and 3 tropes.

Does the relationship of the main character(s) have to be romantic?

No. Platonic, gender-neutral, sibling, and parental relationships are also acceptable.

Can I combine prompts?

Yes, but each one must be easily identifiable within the works. 

Can I combine a prompt with another bingo/challenge?

Yes, if the other bingo/challenge allows it too. Please make the prompt easy to find, such as by putting it in the Author's Notes. It needs to be clear, or it will not be accepted.

Are crossovers allowed?

Yes. But one of the listed fandoms/characters must be the main feature of the work.

Can I use the same prompt multiple times?

Yes, as long as the fic follows all the other rules and it's not a duplicate fic with the slight changes e.g. character changed.

Can I use the prompts in a chapter of an existing fic?

Yes, as long as the fic follows all the other rules.

How do I submit my work?

All creations must include @alphabetquest in the Author’s Notes. Use the hashtag #AlphabetQuestsSubmission in the first five tags. You can also submit the post’s link to the submission channel in Discord.

Where will my posts be reblogged?

Submissions will be reblogged to the @alphabetquest blog within a week. If you do not see your post reblogged within a week, don't hesitate to contact the @alphabetquest mod on the Discord server or ask in the @alphabetquest DMs. I will also reblog on my main blog (@princessmisery666), but I have a queue set up so it may be more than a week.

If you have any questions that haven’t been covered, please ASK. 

[onekisstotakewithme]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

you AND @youngpettyqueen both sent me this which 💜 this just means ten deranged self-recs because. deranged. i'd like to pretend this will be a diverse collection of recs, but. lmao.

1. None of Us are More Than Caretakers (The West Wing)

I wrote this whole story in about six weeks, and I loved every minute of it! About my only real complaint for season 7 of TWW is the transition stuff was so largely focused on the incoming administration, and I wanted to focus more on CJ and Danny (and the secret relationship!) and it overall turned into a little thing about legacy. And all because Gerald Ford happened to die during that time frame IRL! The alternative title is "what if I spent this whole fic setting up the events of Institutional Memory".

A snippet:

“Off the record?” Danny laughs, leaning back against the headboard. “How exactly would you expect me to quote you on this, CJ? The president’s chief of staff, while sitting in this reporter’s bed eating ice cream after sex, was quoted as saying…” CJ smiles too. “Force of habit.” “Sure.”

2. Don't Bet Your Future (M*A*S*H)

My most indulgent, most SILLY passion project. The combination of my love for M*A*S*H + Back to the Future = "Don't Bet Your Future". Essentially, it's a retelling of Back to the Future only BJ is Marty, Daniel is Doc, and... in 1955, Hawkeye is Daniel's son whom BJ has never heard of. This was the best thing I've ever written if only because it was so much fun. You should all write a fic based on your favourite movie, actually. 🥰🥺 (someday, sequels...)

Snippet:

And then a minute later, “What year is it?” BJ scoffs a little, turning on his side. He can just see the outline of Hawkeye in the dim of the room, a negative space with a warm voice, “Don’t laugh, I’m serious.” “It’s 1955.” “And who’s the president?” “Ronald Reagan,” BJ says grumpily. “Can I go back to sleep now, or are you gonna keep making me think about Ronald Regan?” “Is he a good president?” Hawkeye asks curiously. BJ thinks of AIDS and grimaces, his reply a little shorter than he means it to be. “No.”

3. What Unites Us (M*A*S*H)

One of my favourite gen fics I've written for MASH! Essentially, all of the letters sent back to the 4077 post-party. 🥰

4. Ties That Bind (Star Trek: TOS)

The Journey to Babel tag because Jim and Spock accidentally being linked by Amok Time and only finding out because Sarek lets it slip can be so personal (my first K/S day fic)

5. xenia (M*A*S*H)

The first time Peg meets Hawkeye, as seen through a classical lens (aka I wrote this one December while procrastinating studying for a classics final. Triad-ish, Peg's POV.

[ellorypurebloodculture]

I used to respect your work despite the bit of arrogance that appears in the way you reply to the commentators and consider yourself the absolute best - which isn't of course- using famous verses for titles doesn't mean you are on the same level. Now, all you're doing is selling yourself cheap I mean that 'I chat and Do Ask For Money on Tumblr' is getting old. Of course you'll consider this a hate message but it's not. Just try to reflect on the ellory of five years ago.

Hi Anon!

The first part of your message genuinely confuses me. How does thanking someone for taking the time to comment and saying I'm glad they enjoyed the story arrogant?

I have never once considered myself the absolute best at anything. Especially not writing. I've deleted tons of fics I've written because I think they're awful. And I choose titles, which I credit, based on what I think fits a story. I definitely do not consider myself on par with e.e. cummings or similar writers. Liking a quote is not the same thing as thinking oneself equal in talent to the author who penned it.

You shouldn't be so quick to judge people you don't know.

AO3 doesn't have a chat feature or many options for interaction between writers and readers, so I link to my Tumblr so people can chat with me here and participate in ask games if they want.

And, to be perfectly clear, I have never once asked anyone on Tumblr for money. Ko-Fi and Patreon and commission fics are optional, if someone so desires.

No one is the same as they were five years ago, Anon. The Ellory of five years ago wasn't even writing fanfiction. I spent several years retired and didn't come back to fandom until late 2019.

I hope you have a good rest of your weekend, Anon, and that you and your loved ones are healthy and happy. 😊

[silverstarfics]

Me? Posting this a day late? Nooo, totally not. Shhh, it’s definitely still the 21st June and I absolutely haven’t missed @thunder-pride bisexual day...

Okay, fine. I started writing at 23:30 and by the time I finished this I was too tired to proof it. But hey, it’s finally here! Welcome to the Scott/Tycho fic that was meant to be funny but somehow ended up being angsty? Why am I even surprised anymore...

AO3 link

Tonight was a classic example of why Scott hated PR events. Nearly everybody was fake – letting expensive labels speak for them or sucking up in the hopes of a power grab – and there were eyes everywhere. There was no escape.

And it should have been easier because at least this time he’d had an ally in the room, only they couldn’t be seen to be talking because the press were already sniffing around and they both knew that their relationship would be a big conversation.

Scott was determined to keep it private for as long as possible. He’d been through this before. Every time the tabloid headlines proved too much for his partners and the relationship inevitably crashed and burned. He refused to let it happen again. Not this time. Especially not when he’d really started to fall for a certain person.

“Are you still sulking?” Tycho discarded his suit jacket as though it were a used tissue rather than a very expensive example of Italian tailoring. “Because if anyone has the right to sulk, it’s me. I had to watch a lot of very pretty women flirting with my boyfriend.”

It was a relief to be home. Scott finally let the tension drain from his shoulders as he glanced at Tycho over the kitchen island. Tycho flopped grandly onto the couch and offered him a sunny smile which proved that he wasn’t truly annoyed. If anything, there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Five hours,” Scott complained. It was possible that he was being a little overdramatic. “Five hours of corporate bullshit. Do you know what’s even worse? I had to flirt back. Just for appearances’ sake. Because the PR team say I have an image to maintain.”

“Business is better when the CEO is hot and single.”

“Yay,” he deadpanned. “So, I have to pretend to be perpetually single. Great.”

Tycho leaned back against the couch with a fond smile. “I feel like you’re focussing on the wrong part. Take it as a compliment.”

“Nah, Scotty’s crap at that,” Gordon piped up, seemingly materialising out of thin air. It was approaching one in the morning, so there was no reason for him to be in the pool, but he had a yellow towel slung around his shoulders and was steadily dripping water onto the floorboards.

Tycho jumped. “How many times do we have to discuss this? Stop sneaking up on me.”

Gordon’s grin was full of teeth. “It’s an initiation process. When you get used to it, you’re officially a part of the family.”

“Do I want to be? Seems like a nightmare.”

“Oh, yeah, it totally is,” Gordon confirmed. “But dating Scooter means you get all of us too. It’s a joint package. It’s great fun! Just wait until John does creepy shit like randomly appearing above the holoprojector in your room at five in the morning.”

“Gordon,” Scott sighed.

Tycho raised a brow. “John’s going to do what now?”

“John is not going to do anything,” Scott cut in with a meaningful glare at the nearest projector.

Even if their Eye in the Sky wasn’t awake, EOS would undoubtedly pass the message along. It was bad enough dealing with his planet-based siblings, let alone John’s various schemes. The second his family had realised he was actually serious about this relationship, they’d taken it upon themselves to check if Tycho was suitable, to quote. It was funny right up until Kayo’s overprotective streak had made an appearance. Tycho probably still had nightmares.

Gordon sidled across the floor, then whispered something to Tycho. Scott knew that distinctly mischievous grin. He knew it all too well. It was always the precursor to trouble. It was made so much worse by the way Tycho’s face lit up with a slowly dawning smile.

Scott eyed them suspiciously “What?”

“Nothing,” Gordon sing songed. “I’m just… you know. Catching up. Becoming besties. Reminding Tycho of the way you become a flustered mess whenever someone you genuinely like flirts with you.”

Scott stared at him for a long moment. “That’s such crap. And why are you even here? Go to bed and stop bothering us.”

“Uh huh. Okay. Sure.” Gordon made no attempt to move. “You are the worst at taking compliments.”

“I am not-” Scott took a steadying breath. “I get compliments all the time. Such as this evening.”

“Nope. Doesn’t count. I’m talking about genuine compliments.”

“Shut up, Gordon.”

“No, no.” Tycho had a wicked grin on his face. “Keep going.”

Gordon let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, really? Well then. Scott will have, like, an actual meltdown if you tell him-”

“Gordon, I swear to God, I’m gonna disinherit you. I’ll do it. Just one more word and I’ll call my lawyer.”

“Do it, I dare you.”

“You think I’m bluffing?”

“I think you’ll turn the same shade as Three if Tycho says you did a good job tonight.”

The situation was swiftly spiralling out of control. Scott let out a loud, obviously fake laugh and tried to play it off as casual. He glared at Gordon, trying to communicate an increasingly desperate hope for him to leave, because sure, maybe this was hilarious to the squid, but Scott kind of wanted to sink through the floor and maybe burn up in the Earth’s mantle right now.

It was made worse by the way Tycho’s smile faltered as he glimpsed Scott’s genuine unease. “Wait. This isn’t just a joke?”

“Can we not… not do this?” Scott gripped the edge of the counter until his knuckles paled. His voice sounded horribly strained even to his own ears. “I’m sure it’s really funny, but I think I lost my sense of humour about three hours ago. So. Can we just… not?”

Gordon’s amusement faded. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care what you meant, Gordon.” Scott cursed the hint of betrayal which had crept into his tone. He snatched his discarded jacket from the counter and shouldered past his brother which hadn’t been his best idea to date given Gordon was still soaking wet. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Scott,” Tycho called, voice pitched with honest concern.

“Scooter? C’mon, I was just joking around. I didn’t mean it seriously.” Gordon’s bare feet smacked against the floorboards as he broke into a jog to catch up. “Hey, Scott! Jeez, would you wait up for a second?”

“What?” Scott whirled on him. Gordon’s eyes widened as the shout faded in the dark corridor. For all the times he’d driven Scott up the wall, it was still rare for him to actually snap. “What is it now?”

Gordon hesitated. “I just wanted to-”

“Wanted to what? Make another joke? At my expense? Jokes are supposed to be funny. I don’t know, maybe you do find it funny. It’s hilarious that I can’t take compliments because the only time anyone gives me one is when they want something from me. Go ahead and laugh. But I’ve had a shit evening so I’m having a few problems seeing the humour in it.”

The silence dragged on for a painfully long minute.

“You never told me that,” Gordon whispered.

“Then congrats. Now you know.”

Scott wasn’t angry as such – mostly just hurt because Gordon’s jokes rarely crossed the line into downright cruel – and so still experienced a rush of regret because his little brother looked as though he’d been slapped.

“Get some sleep, Gords,” he muttered, more softly this time. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, Scott, really. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, bud,” he sighed. “I know you are.”

“Are we okay?”

“Are we…? Of course we are.” He shook his head at the sight of Gordon’s relieved smile. “Dumbass.”

What might not have been alright was his relationship, but that was an issue he didn’t want to consider until he’d slept for a few hours. He retreated to his room and finally changed out of the cursed suit. He was still trying to coax creases out of the jacket when the door closed and he sensed another’s presence in the room. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“I considered giving you some space,” Tycho began cautiously, “But then I couldn’t help myself.” There was something unbearably gentle in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Scott didn’t look up from the jacket. He’d crumpled more creases into the fabric by curling his fists in it but he didn’t know how else to control the wealth of feeling in his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Gordon poked at a subject he knows I’m uncomfortable with, that’s all.”

He could sense Tycho standing just a few feet away, uncertain as to how to proceed. It was the wrong side of too late to even think anymore, but Scott was reluctant to postpone this conversation until tomorrow. He’d done this before. He knew how it went.

People liked the idea of him – the persona carefully curated for the public – but fled as soon as they glimpsed the broken pieces beneath the mask. But he hated how much it was going to hurt this time. It was almost enough to make him turn around and pretend that there’d been no harm done, that it had just been an overreaction on his half, anything to give him just a few more hours of being loved.

“If you want to leave,” he said heavily, “I won’t hold it against you.”

Tycho visibly double took. “Sorry, what? Why would I want to…? I’m very confused right now, which is rare for me. What is this? What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you an easy out. I won’t judge you for taking it.”

“I don’t want out. I want you. I’ve made that very clear over the past couple of months.”

“Yeah, well.” Scott still couldn’t look at him. “Everyone wants me until they realise- I’m not easy to love. I get that. There’s always a point when people recognise that I’m more than they signed up for. And they leave. So, if you’re going to do that, I’d rather you did so now, because it’s already gonna hurt like hell and it’ll only get worse the longer you stay.”

“Scott.”

“I’m not going to do… this. Just- Okay, it’s late, so don’t leave, but there’s a spare room down the hall. I can drop you home tomorrow.”

“Would you let me get a word in edgeways?” Tycho’s fond exasperation was tainted by concern. He stepped closer to brush a hand against Scott’s arm. “It’s very easy to love you. It’s a little harder to know you, I’ll admit that, but only because you’re constantly trying to keep from letting anyone in. But loving you? That’s not a challenge.”

Scott searched for his voice and found only a pathetically small croak. “Okay.”

Tycho’s tiny huff suggested that he was trying to hold back a laugh. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Look at me?” Tycho’s murmur seemed so very loud in their silent room. And that thought in itself was a rush because when had his become theirs? “Please?”

Scott finally dropped the jacket onto the chair and twisted to face him. He was hyperaware of his own heartbeat – frantic with fear because vulnerability was so much worse than a dangerous rescue – and the burn behind his eyes. Tycho took a final step closer, running a hand up his arm to cradle his face – no judgement, just pure affection – and he wasn’t sure what to do with that acceptance.

“This entire time,” Tycho continued softly, “I’ve been worried that you’ll call this off. Because the first time we met, you were risking your life for mine. How can I possibly match up to that? If you look up hero in the dictionary, you’ll find your name beside it. Now, me? I have ideas. Fantastic, revolutionary ideas. But I’m not selfless. I don’t pretend to be. So, it baffles me that out of the two of us, you’re the one who believes he’s difficult to love.”

Scott lowered his forehead to Tycho’s shoulder. Fingers curled around the nape of his neck, easing away tension, moving to run through his hair. He exhaled shakily and let himself be held.

“You’re clever. You’re compassionate. You’re remarkable. I could go on for hours.” Tycho’s smile was audible in his voice as he added, “Oh, and by the way? You did a great job tonight.”

Scott swatted him half-heartedly. “Shut up.”

“You know I had to say it.”

“Hmm.”

“I love you,” Tycho promised. “And I’m not going anywhere. Even if your brothers do try to give me the shovel talk every time I visit.”

“Oh, god.”

“Alan’s the worst offender which makes it harder because I always want to laugh. He’s just not intimidating in the slightest. That being said, I do agree with them. If I hurt you at all, I will happily hand myself over so that Kayo can complete her oddly specific list of threats.”

Scott gave a tired laugh. “They mean well.”

Tycho shot him an affectionate smile. “I know they do. They love you. And so do I.”