#he is on an eternal field trip with no chaperones

[dcviated]

@starryskied sent: ❝ So, tell me... ❞ The Elafia paused mid-speech, a brief look of uncertainty flitting across her visage. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, slender brow furrowed contemplatively. Why did she feel on edge? Was it the remoteness of their assignment? Or the heaviness of Mother Nature and her countless burdens? Tsukinogi shook her head briefly, opting instead to add a few extra pieces of wood to their campfire. Dim embers dance around the dry timber, before the wooden logs catch aflame. One hand continually prods the burning sticks, while the other hand rotates tonight's 'dinner' --- a pair of wild caught fish. ❝ Pardon, my curiosity. After the assignment is finished, where will you go? Back to venturing the world and sailing the open ocean? ❞ Curiosity has certainly taken root within her, as the former shrine maiden peeks up at Dogi beneath her lashes.

The fire is tended in quiet reflection. There's a hint of a song under his breath that could be mutters all the same, but it still paired nicely with the warm expression he chose to wear. A good evening if the catch of fish was anything to go by. Wallcrusher lacked in most of the spices and other fixings he'd use for a camp like this but that didn't mean he couldn't try, right? Between the fat, and some oil, and other foraged ingredients maybe they could put together a nice sauce!

"What's up, Tsuki?" The Aegir replies, though attention remains on his own tasks as she begins to make her thoughts known. Where would he go? Well, that sure sounded familiar. A rumbling peal of chuckles as the small pan is set near the fire to heat up the bit of butter he'd slipped in. "Man, how many times have I heard that one before."

He sits back, arms folded.

"Couldn't tell ya! For all those years I was travelling with Adol we more or less went where the wind took us. Across Terra, wherever the chips fell. Sometimes we'd follow a rumor or hear about some other trouble happening halfway across the continent. Set about going there, then end up... someplace completely different! I've come to learn that's how adventuring works though. It's not something you really plan, it's how you live. And once I'm done with this work, maybe I'll get a Messenger job, or maybe Rhodes Island will send something... but if neither of those come up? Maybe I'll make my way towards Higashi."

Wallcrusher grins then, letting a look fall on the Elafia.

"With how you talk about it, it's got me pretty dang curious, y'know? Something I gotta experience for myself!" Merry mood is interrupted by a sizzle on the pan. He jumps up and quickly goes to spreading that butter around with tilts and swivels before tossing on the mushrooms and other fixings. "Whoop! Close one.."

[peaxhxhair]

Hostage || Berlin

Pairing: Berlin x Male (Teacher) Reader

Warnings: Guns, mentions of death(+Murder), spit, etc. (Please tell me if there's anything else)

Summary: M/n isn't very happy with being kept captive

Word Count: 1.6k

Authors Note: Here's part two for whoever's interested

Money Heist Masterlist

Consider buying me a coffee! <3

“Alright kids, in we go!” I called as I led the group of teenagers into the Mint. Originally, I hadn’t intended on being a chaperone for our school’s field trip, however I had been convinced at the last minute by one of my co-workers, so here I am. Luckily, I didn’t have to bother teaching them anything, since the school had booked some kind of tour. 

I was currently standing behind the group, making sure that no one wandered off before the tour ended. I wasn’t at all interested in the tour, but their actual teacher seemed to be, so I wasn’t that bothered about paying attention. Sometimes I wonder whether tours like this are educational if no one’s really listening. 

~~~

“Anne, don’t wander off please” I called as I spotted our newest student walking away from the group, in a completely different direction. 

“Just going to the bathroom” She answered when she actually turned to look at me. She looked a little embarrassed that she got caught, and I almost laughed at the look on her face. I had a feeling that she didn’t really need to go, but I wasn’t about to stop her. As long as we know where she is, then there isn’t really a problem.

“Alright. We’ll all be in the main area, meet us there when you’re ready” I said, and she nodded in agreement before finally walking off to find the nearest bathroom. I felt a little unsure of letting her go alone, but it would be weird if I offered to go with her. Hopefully she’ll find us easy enough…

~~~

Our group was now looking at old photos of money, and what the mint used to look like. The kids seemed a lot more interested in taking photos than paying attention to whatever was being said, and I had to agree with them. At least I’m being paid to be here. 

Though, as everyone gathered around the boards full of photos, the sound of gunshots interrupted our peace. Now, I’m not saying that any amount of gunshots is normal, but this was too many. Way too many. The lights flickered as we all began to panic about what was going on, and some of the students began to run. Those of us who didn’t ended up getting cornered by some guys in white masks that were holding guns. Now, this could be a reason why I didn’t want to come on this field trip, but who was I to know our lives would be at risk. 

~~~

Soon enough, we were all gathered up and blindfolded, which I didn’t like at all. Do what you want with me, but I wanna be able to see.

We were all put into lines, and in the moments of panic, I felt one of the students beside me grab my hand. I wasn’t about to tell them off, since I kind of needed a hand to hold right now too. So, I kept their hand in mine as we waited for something to happen. 

I don’t know how long we stood there for, but it felt like an eternity. At some point we heard a lot of shuffling, or I suppose you could call it struggling. They must have found Anne…At least she’s safe, and alive.

“Hello everyone, I’m the one in charge here” Someone eventually spoke up, and the room seemed even more tense at the sound of the guy's voice. “I apologise for the inconvenience, but you’re now our hostages” He continued, and everyone seemed to cower at the idea of being kept captive by these people. I didn’t. If they wanted to kill us, they could have already done so. There’s no real reason to be scared, at least…Not yet. Who knows what they’ll come up with while we’re trapped in here. 

The guy started speaking about obeying rules, which I had no problem with. Though, the idea that they couldn’t hurt us for whatever reason made me want to mess with them. Sure, I might get shot, but I wanna have some fun before I die. 

They then made us give up all of our stuff, which I wasn’t too pleased with, but I complied nonetheless. I didn’t really have much, just my phone and a bunch of pens in case some of the kids needed one. I don’t know what they’re gonna do with our stuff, so if anything I’m glad that I hadn’t brought anything else. Though, as we all dumped our stuff into the bins that were presented to us, a phone rang from across the room, which made everyone jump. We were then all made to wait while some woman was forced to answer the phone.

~~~

We were eventually allowed to take off our blindfolds, and I basically ripped that thing off of my face, finally getting to see properly again. 

“We’re all trapped inside the same building here, which means we have to work together” That guy started up again, and I scoffed at his words, earning a nudge in the rubs from a guy I had never met. He was wearing a suit, so I assumed he was a worker in the Mint, and not a visitor like my group was. I winced as his elbow connected to my ribs, and I nudged him back a bit harder as some form of a warning. 

“Problem?” I heard from in front of me as I attempted to argue with the guy beside me, who had now stiffened up at the voice that had addressed us.  Sure, it probably wasn’t the best time to argue, but I needed to do something rather than just standing and doing absolutely nothing. When I finally turned to look at the guy in red, I almost laughed.

“Yeah, obviously” I answered, my eyebrows furrowing as I glared at him. There was no point lying to the guy, since he knew that he was part of the main problem. We were pretty much the same height, which made him seem a little less intimidating than what he probably hoped. 

“We would appreciate it if you listened when we’re talking” He looked a little surprised at my answer at first, but he didn’t actually do much about my brewing attitude. 

“Is your ego damaged ‘cuz I won’t listen?” I asked, choosing to mock him instead of doing what he wanted me to. I knew he couldn’t hurt me, even if he wanted to, and that knowledge made it a lot easier for me to stand up for myself.

“You’re going to listen or one of us is gonna shoot you” He said after a brief moment of contemplation, pointing the gun he was holding against my side. I could feel the cool metal through the fabric of my shirt, and it would’ve made me shiver if I wasn’t so focused on his face. I didn’t really believe his words, and when he finally stopped talking, I spit in his face. 

The way he flinched when my spit hit his face made my lips curl into a smirk, and I had to stop myself from laughing as he finally walked away. The rest of his little team all pointed their guns at me, although we were all surprised when he waved them off. 

~~~

They’re making us print money. They’re making us all do the work for them, like we’re in a prison. We kind of are, but I still don’t like it. I had to work through the night, and when I finally got to relax, it was short lived. They then made us help dig an escape route. Dunno why I have to help though, since I’m not gonna be the one using it. Though, I suppose it was nice to see our ‘team leaders’ fighting with the director of the Mint. 

When they finally let us take a break, they presented us with food. I didn’t think that I could continue working without it, so I was grateful that now was the time they had given it to us. 

Everyone was gathered around the main area, lined up beside some tables where our current sheds were standing. They handed us trays of food, and I honestly wondered why I’m eating better in a hostage situation than I do at home. Eating instant noodles everyday was normal for me, so being handed a tray full of food was actually quite nice.

“Sir? Do you think we’ll get out of here alive?” One of my students asked as I sat down near our group. I had to take a second to swallow the rice that I had already shoved into my mouth, before answering.

“Yeah, Definitely” I answered, and it was obvious that they didn’t believe my words. “It seems like they’re not allowed to kill anyone.” I continued, and they all began whispering amongst themselves as I glanced over at where most of the robbers were sitting on the main stairs. Though, I stiffened when I locked eyes with one of them, only really noticing that it was Berlin after a few seconds. 

He ended up raising his hand to wave at me, and I scoffed at the smug action, before showing him my middle finger in response, then looking back towards my group in an attempt to ignore him. The feeling of his eyes on the back of my head was unsettling, though. 

“I reckon he likes you” Anne joked from a bit away from me, and I chuckled at her words, not really believing it at first.

“And I reckon you’re going insane.” I answered, which made her laugh. Though, her words did make me question the criminal for a moment, glancing back towards the stairs, only to find that he was still looking at me.

I chose to ignore what Anne said, although I will admit that the guy has a nice face…It's a shame that he's a dick.

[angelicmichael]

What if Xavier had a kid he didn't know about and he meets them for the first time after he's already a ghost? Maybe there's a kindergarten group that takes a trip to the camp, and he just has this spirit intuition as soon as he sees them and KNOWS it's his child. Do you think you could expand on this idea? I'd love to see what you come up with!

A/N: This was so fun, thank you for this idea dear anon!! I'm sorry it's late but hopefully u like it 😶. Also, I apologize this is so dark and heavy- I didnt intend for it.. it just, kinda happened lmfao. I turned this into a 'x reader' and it starts with Xaviers POV and ends with readers perspective!! First few paragraphs are pretty dark and then the rest is weird.. angst fluff LOL.Hope yall enjoy 💖💖💖

Warnings: First few paragraphs discuss Xavier's thots about dying SO, it highkey gets dark yall I'm so sorry, mentions of anger?? issues, mentions of murder, stops getting dark roughly around paragraph 6 if u wanna skip all that, MAJOR ANGST, reuniting, very brief Xantana reference 😈, mention of kids, bit of fluff.. think that's it :)

In Xaviers eyes; the worst part of being killed in a desolate camp and having to reside there for the rest of eternity; wasnt the fact that he would have to handle Richard Rameriez and tolerate his peers for eons to come. Sure, both of those things required an adjustment period but.. the realization that his life with you was abruptly cut short, was what truly broke him.

It took him being stripped from everything he once knew to truly appreciate how heavenly life once was before Camp Redwood. He had a steady job, good friends, and a relationship with a actual living, breathing person.. Not to shade Montana or anything, of course. However he had taken all of those things for fucking granted; moving to Camp Redwood definetly had made him become humble- at the very least. He was now nothing but a mere shell of the person he once was; nothing to bring him out of this absolute living nightmare he found himself in.. At first this mindset nearly consumed him, it drove him to kill multiple times.

There was no point in trying to conceal the anger he felt, no way of trying to channel it out into a more socially appropriate way and at this point.. there really was no point in trying to do so. Out here in the forest, espically after he was killed, life outside of the forest soon seemed as if it was some type of myth or fairytale- something not real or attainable. Time in the redwood forest felt different- days quickly bled and melted into weeks, and then months.. trying to guess the date was something Xavier gave up on doing after about the first week.

As much as he tried to deny it, being dead and becoming trapped here had completly made him lose his grip on reality and his previous life. Soon enough, the thought that life even fully existed outside of the camp and that there was actual fucking laws against killing (something which was now a leisurely hobby) had completly slipped his mind momentarily in the beginning as well. Out here in the forest, nothing felt real execpt for his anger that he held onto so tightly.

It was really the only thing he had left; atleast for a while.

The pain of losing his partner, (y/n), still remained but letting that grief not consume him was easily the hardest battle he had fought in his life. Xavier realized he still had his friends - and if he really was going to live for eternity, he sure wasnt going to spend it angry.

After so many years of being 'cursed' to spend forever in this forest, keeping track of the time was something Xavier rarely bothered with, but - it was obvious by the suns posistion, and even the slight mist that made the grass wet that it was just starting to cut into morning. Xavier walked through the forest alone, nowhere in particular to go or to necessarily do, only a sudden need to go and be alone. Almost a beckoning, for him to go and be somewhere else. To witness something.

His days were more often than not purely mundane; he had absolutely no excuse to not listen to this odd and sudden attraction he felt toward a very particular spot in the camp.. so, that's what brought him to where he stood now. Close to the road that brought visitors (a nice word for victims) into Camp Redwood, right next to the mess hall which was rarely used close by.

Xavier felt wildly uncomfortable standing so close to the place which previously held so much trauma - and honestly still did.. The place where Chef Bertie died. Xavier paused, about to just say 'fuck it' and just give up and go back to where his friends resided (or atleast Montana) when.. he heard it.

His sign, the thing that seemingly enticed him in the first place.

It first sounded like the old, familar sounds of tires coming across a gravel road - Xaviers mind immeadietly jumped to perhaps this could be new people.. new vistors.. new victims.

His blood ran cold when he heard something else; an eerie ringing of chains hitting against the ground. Something that was mostly a associated with buses.. and hauntingly familar. He had little to no time to think or even act on his suspicion when he noticed that a yellow school bus full, and nearly combusting with children was pulling into the camp.

Xavier wasnt exactly certain the bounds that ghosts had when it came to certain bodily functions like vomiting, but hes sure that under normal circumstances he would certainly be sick by now. Nevertheless he could feel his body tense up and the other natural symptoms associated with anxiety also kicked in. Urging him to clumsily get out of vision; he stumbled behind a few trees that poorly blocked him from sight. He continued to watch in complete and utter horror as the bus came to a stop, and it didnt take long for kids to start pouring out of the bus. Xavier felt his heart drop and his blood run cold every time a kid exited the bus and stepped on the dirt soil of Camp Redwood.

Xavier whipped his head around; scanning the surrounding area to make sure no other ghosts were here to bear witness to this.. Xavier was nearly always down to commit murder, it was really the only thing that kept him from fully going insane from pure fucking boredom but - kids? There was no fucking way he would let anyone touch them.

While he thoroughly scanned the area, he noticed a few adults leave the bus out of his periphery vision. He thought nothing of it, chaperones were to be expected on elementary field trips but.. the strange beckoning feeling he felt ealier visited him again, urging him to turn his head fully and look at one of the chaperones more closely. Instantaneously, he then automatically realized why he felt so compelled to come to this spot.. Why he was meant to be here at this exact moment.. It was you.

At first he thought he was merely hallucinating; you definetly looked significantly different from the last time he had saw you but.. he knew it was you, his partner that he had before his life completly went to shit (minus the catastrophe that occured with Blake, of course). He knew instantly, it was your eyes, your stature and just.. your overall warm and familiar aura that gave your identity away. He couldnt believe that the person he had so fucking desperately wanted to see more than anyone or anything was only a few feet away - and now, that you were finally here... All he wanted for you to do was to leave.

As soon as he saw you he felt a sudden tightness posses his chest and throat which accompanied the formation of tears burning his eyes; hastily blurring his vision. He had to physically restrain himself from sobbing outloud; trying his best to just swallow down his tears. His whole body felt as if it was on fire with anxiety, but he chose to continue to stand still behind a few dainty trees - trying to pull himself together so he could actually have the chance to think critically and choose what the ever living fuck he was going to do next.

While he waited for his blurry vision to clear, he chose to focus on the semi distant figure that he knew was you. He took in the little details; like how the sun highlighted the colors in your hair and your simple but charming outfit. It took him several moments to think of why you would even be here in the first place, with a school bus- and thats when another dreadful realization hit him.

Only parents were mainly chaperones when it came to elementary field trips.. meaning-

No other thought crossed Xaviers mind as his eyes flicked down inhumanely fast to the child where (y/n) stood next too.. and immeadietly he knew.

The features the child shared of both you and Xavier were partially a giveaway, but most importantly.. it was the feeling he had that confirmed his belief. The initial anxiety he felt of the kids arriving still remained but was significantly muted and mostly replaced with a overwhelming sense of pure love. The feeling spread to every fiber of his being, and so did a odd urge to protect this small being which he knew was his.

Not ever in his entire life had he felt this way about someone (execpt for perhaps, you). He felt himself taking a few steps forward, at first completly involuntary but he knew he had to talk to you. Just the idea of reuniting tasted so fucking good but, he knew he couldnt get too greedy if he was going to talk to you. He knew confronting you had to be solely done in order to save you and his child, he couldnt get carried away. He wouldnt.

He tried his best to appear casual as he submerged from behind the trees, his hands held behind his back - the only way he could get them to stop shaking. He tried to relax his shoulders and appear confident as he strided up to you; your back turned toward him. He continued until he was directly behind you, he wanted to tap your shoulder but - touching you seemed out of the question. That would confirm everything, it would make it seem actually real and not like this just some torturous dream.

"(Y/n)"? He spoke.

Xaviers breath hitched as he watched you whip around to face him. He studied your features as you went from looking utterly confused to surprised beyond belief.

"Xavier, what-"

"We need to talk".

Xavier quickly grabbed your hand, leading you away from herd of kids and the few sparse chaperones that were amongst them. A few of them gave you two a few odd looks but neither you or Xavier particularly cared, after all this was the first time in years you two had seen eachother. You hastily followed his lead, feeling slightly embarrassed that it was obvious how nervous and simply caught off guard you currently were. Your palms (one of which was still holding onto Xaviers hand) were starting to moisten with sweat. These feelings only amplified once Xavier turned around to face you. The intensity that was in his eyes put you on edge - never in your time of dating or knowing him did he ever look so serious with you.

"What are you doing here"? Xavier spoke, his voice was still in a higher pitch, slightly breaking.

"What"?

After years of not being able to see you, in fact; years of you not even knowing where he went - this was how he chose to greet you?? Automatically your blood ran cold with the sudden realization that something was wrong. Seriously wrong.. but the feeling didnt just apply to your ex boyfriend. It was the entire camp.

"Its not safe here, you need to take the kids and leave". Xaviers voice more visibly shook this time as he spoke; as if his words physically pained him.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sudden pain and anguish starting to fully settle in. You couldnt believe it; after years of not seeing you - this was all he had to say? Was he fucking joking?

"What? A-are you kidding? Xavier, I havent seen you in years- I didnt even know you would be here-"

"I'm sorry (y/n). I'm so sorry but you have no idea what this place is like. You just need to go, and the kids. And promise me you wont come back".

It was torturous to watch tears gather in Xaviers eyes, and watch as they streaked down his cheeks. The sadness you previously felt was now washed away with red, hot rage. The feeling spread throughout your body like a wildfire that he was seemingly rejecting you.. but you knew now this wasnt some pathetic excuse. Something was seriously wrong here; and now it was starting to become too obvious to ignore.

Xavier looked hauntingly the exact same from the last time you saw him. He forever, looked as if he was still stuck in the same moment of time - like in the summer of 1984, which was when you last saw him.

You didnt realize you were still holding onto one of his hands until you reflexively tried to move it to brush away his tears that were still staining his cheeks; but awkwardly.. you chose to do so with your other hand. Squeezing the one hand you were still holding onto a bit tighter.

He winced as you touched him, and as much you tried your damn best to hold it together - you could feel tears starting to burn your eyes as well.

"I cant promise I wont ever come back, Xavier. I need to see you again, and what about-" you said softly, about to reference the child you two shared together.

"No, you'll see me again (y/n). I promise.. okay"?

He brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles; the tears you trying so desperately to hold in were now sliding down your cheeks. Your breathing was now horribly choppy. You were on the brink of full on sobbing but you held yourself back - it was nearly time for you to go.

The fact you would have to go back to go the others and make up some bullshit excuse to leave, put a bitter taste in your mouth.. but your sure Xavier had a valid reason for ushering you to leave. Even if he didnt want to tell you right now; you trusted him with your life.

"Okay.. Fine. I'm coming back though, and I'm sorry I couldnt find you sooner". You admitted.

You dropped his hand that you were still holding in order to wrap your arms around him. To get one final touch to remember him by. You were desperate to fully touch him and to be wrapped in his embrace, something you had desperately and madly missed. As he held you; you tried to soak in his scent, his aura.. just the fact that he was even here seriously with you, in this moment.

You previously assumed Xavier had passed away; that was easier to come to terms with rather than thinking he willingly ran away or.. that something else more sinister had happened. A part of you wanted to be frustrated that you were leaving with more questions than answers but.. you didnt care. Your heart didnt care. You were just happy you were able to see your boyfriend.. no matter the circumstance or conditions it came with. Even though you were stupidly happy, your thoughts kept annoyingly circling back to the same question - how was Xavier here with you, living.. breathing.. in the flesh. How was this possible? You were about to speak your thoughts outloud when you first felt Xavier break away from you. You didnt get as much as a second glance just when you felt something soft on your cheek. Perhaps a goodbye kiss? and then.. just like he wasnt there at all, he was gone. Almost as if he completly disintegrated into the fresh, morning sky.

You felt your entire body stiffen as you realized he was gone.. again. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly how you felt. It was a nasty mix of both grief and anger that left you completly speechless and deathly still. You took a step back to combat the feeling, and attempted to look casual (and not like the person whom you were just hugging had completly fucking vanished). Sheepishly taking a look at the group you had arrived with and making sure none of them noticed your.. odd behavior.

Sure enough, none of them did. They all stood, and continued on conversing just like they were before you had broke away from them. Smiling and laughing as if nothing was wrong; just like they didnt have a care in the world - just as if the love of their life wasnt ripped away from them for a second time.

Even though Xavier was now gone, that odd, unsettling feeling still lingered with you. Like something was terribly wrong here, in Camp Redwood. The feeling wasn't entirely bad though; sure - the overall air in this place reeked of something terrible but.. now you felt something else mixed into it. A comforting essence of safety; Xaviers presence. You knew he wasnt directly beside you anymore but he was somewhere.. lurking. Watching you, as you begrudgingly walked over to the group you came with. Making up a bullshit excuse in your head so you could escape whatever this place was pretending to be.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instincts-baby let me know if u would like to be added!! :)

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

when I was in like 5th grade we had a big field trip to DC and my friend's dad was one of the chaperones and. we were in the big Cathedral. in the basement. looking at the entombed body of a bishop. a priest was giving a whole spiel about it. quiet, respectful moment. and then. my friend's dad's phone started ringing. this already would have not been great. but his ringtone. was the opening to 'immigrants song'. like just the screaming 'ah ah AHHHH AH'. it was just that on a loop. and he couldn't find his phone at first so this just. went on. the 11 year olds, trying their hardest not to laugh. the priests, enraged. the other chaperones, scandalized. the dead bishop, about to rise out of his coffin in fury at the disrespect,

and THEN,

we somehow escaped the cathedral with our lives. we go to our next location on the itinerary. the Eternal Flame. the memorial to jfk eternal flame. we crowd around, looking in wonder. it was a beautiful sight. the concept of forever fire was cool as fuck. also you know jfk is literally buried there. we're being respectful for 11 year olds. the tour guide is impressed. when suddenly. cutting through the quiet air. "ah ah AHHH AH". the kids, choking on delighted laughter. the rest of the crowd, glaring and furious. the atmosphere, ruined. jfk's ghost, probably laughing. the teachers, demanding he put his phone on silent. he promises it will not happen again.

AND THEN,

we go. to see. the changing of the guards at The Tomb Of The Unknown Soldier. everyone packed to the sides to not get in the guards way. they already yelled at someone for being out of line. they continue down the path. they almost are at the tomb. everything is quiet, respectful.

.

.

.

.

.

"AHHH AHHHH AHHHHHHHHHH AH"

[forasecondtherewedwon]

In the Arms of the Anus

Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster Rating: T Word Count: 8883

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!

Summary: While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.

Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.

Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.

The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.

It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.

His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.

He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.

So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.

If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.

The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.

He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.

At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.

What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”

Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.

“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.

All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)

“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.

“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”

As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.

The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.

“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”

Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.

“Wong.”

“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.

“No… You heard that part too?”

“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”

“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”

“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.

God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.

But Wong surprised him by nodding.

“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.

He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...

Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!

“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”

Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.

“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”

“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.

“I could be very hungry.”

“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”

“I could be very, very hungry.”

Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.

When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.

Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.

And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.

“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”

“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”

“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”

Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.

“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”

Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.

“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”

“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Well, good,” Wong concluded.

Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.

“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”

“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.

Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.

—

Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.

But no.

Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.

They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.

Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.

“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”

“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”

From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.

“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.

Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”

The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.

Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.

He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.

Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”

Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.

Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.

“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”

Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.

“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”

“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”

“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”

“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.

Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.

“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”

“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.

Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.

Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.

Of all the times to trip, he thought.

—

The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.

The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.

It was rough.

He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.

Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.

“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”

His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?

Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.

“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.

Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?

The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.

He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.

A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”

Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.

But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.

Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.

“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.

“Harass,” she answered flatly.

The angel chuckled.

“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”

“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.

That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.

“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”

She shrugged.

“Trash.”

“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”

When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”

“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.

He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.

The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”

Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.

“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.

“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.

“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”

Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.

“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.

“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”

He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.

“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”

The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.

“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”

“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”

Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.

“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”

The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.

“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”

He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.

“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”

With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.

It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.

“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.

“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”

Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.

“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”

“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”

“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.

This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.

“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”

“Class!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.

But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.

“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”

“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”

“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”

“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”

Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.

“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.

“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.

“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”

Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.

—

It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.

The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.

At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.

In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.

He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.

Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.

He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she’d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.

Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.

If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.

—

As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.

Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.

With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.

The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.

Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.

For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.

Still, no one answered.

Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.

He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.

Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.

“Is he here?” Roger demanded.

Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.

“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.

“I thought we had developed a rapport.”

Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.

“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.

“We’re friends.”

“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”

“So when is my birthday?”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.

“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”

None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.

When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.

“What do you know about the Anus?”

The Sorcerer blinked.

“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.

“The Anus.”

“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”

Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.

“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.

“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”

Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.

“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.

“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”

The Sorcerer stroked his chin.

“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”

“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.

“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”

“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.

“…Yeah.”

Roger glanced from one man to the other.

“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”

The Sorcerer stared at him.

“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”

The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.

“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”

“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.

“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”

“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”

The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.

“What?”

But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.

For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.

Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).

He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.

Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.

“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”

Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.

“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.

Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.

“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”

“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”

[gildedmuse]

So now that our boys actually found themselves a ninja to terrorize, let's review some of those requests.

And, yes, I'm going to treat you all as children. Because, well, the way you act. But also don't think I didn't notice Franky was the only one not to throw a question at this poor man. He standing their like a chaperone on a field trip. And his students are....

Luffy: Okay but in a fight who win!?

You're just asking to see his like, basic attack. Wait. What am I saying? Ahh, of course that's what you want to see. You're a little bazooka terrier.

Chopper: In my picture book at home back with my mommy....

And of course this fluffy soft boy wants to see something so serene and naturey. At career day he'd be the one asking the Fire Fighter if they really do save kittens and if so are all they super cute!? I'll bet they are ALL super cute!

Usopp: And ALSO! And ALSO! And ALSO!

Luffy? Chopper? Usopp hears your first question our the gate and he's like, nah, you boys are not thinking nearly big enough. Hey, ninja! Show us some actual magic powers!

And then just decides to one 180 that into WEIRDLY personal. I mean, first of, don't even know what the dude is into. Maybe he's not into the female of the species. Or, hey, even if he is maybe he's got one of those "don't date other doctors" types of rules. Maybe Raizo like guy Samurai (that would make sense actually, he sure hangs out with a lot of them.) Point is, you don't know this man's life. Stick to asking about scrolls filled with ancient secret techniques and shit.

A giant what now?

Well... Uh.... He did live-in the jungle with Herclues'n so...?

Yeah. I've got nothing, you guys.

Law: Actually, I'm referring to the original manga from the weekly publications, but I'm not surprised you would assume the 2010 anime that popularized the genre.

Yeah, honestly, Law? This just sounds to me like something your over powered, magic as fuck, New World bullshit devil fruit can do.

If in a middle of a battle, Law put up a room and yelled this and could suddenly duplicate any organ or... create a second version of you but sickly or... I don't even know... preform survey on a shadow. It's like, yeah. Sure. What the hell? Why not. He can switch people's personalities into different bodies, remove organs and limbs with no consequences, swap random items for one another at will, and - oops, almost forgot - grant the power of eternal life. So you know.... He could claim this was a power of the Op Op no mi at any point and my reaction would be hmmm.... That checks out.

Just roll with it.

Usopp: AND ALSO!

Let the other kids ask a question, Usopp!

Zoro: Can I hold your gun? Can I fire it? At someone?

Everyone: *Asks their sweet little questions, eyes filled with boyish wonder*

Zoro: You're a ninja?

Zoro: Yo.

Zoro: Let me stab you.

Franky: WHAT? Not SUPER Zoro! What did we say?

Zoro: What? I've always wanted to stab a ninja.

I love you bae. You scary sometimes.

[mythgirlimagines]

What do you know? Tuesday is here, and I’ve prepared a talentswap for you all! Grinding her way into the inbox, it’s Myth, the Former Ultimate Skateboarder!

——————————————————

BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Throughout Skateboarder!Myth’s middle school and high school life, Myth didn’t feel like she fitted in any of the niches that were provided at school. That was until, on her way home from school, she happened upon a skate park. Luckily, all of the regulars at the skatepark were willing to teach this aimless wallflower the ways of the board. With assistance from the skater boys and girls, Skateboarder!Myth managed to surpass all of them. Several videos of Skateboarder!Myth were uploaded on the internet, boosting both her fame and her ego. When she was invited to join the Hope’s Peak roster as the Ultimate Skateboarder, she decided to do a complete overhaul to her image, opting for a more punkish vibe for her look. She is willing to give out skateboarding lessons to those who simply ask. She kept the punk look and skateboard even to her college years and subsequent invitation to chaperone the new Ultimates on their Kibo-Con field trip.

——————————————————

RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Public Speaker

Myth knew Wyre back in her middle school days, where Wyre would regularly attend the school’s assemblies and give loud and passionate motivational speeches to all of the students. Wyre, in a way, was a bit of a role model in Myth’s life. So imagine her elation, when said role model, wounded up in not only Hope‘s Peak, but also was willing to chaperone the Ultimates alongside her.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Thief

For someone who’s talent revolves around stealth and silence, Scar, or as she christened herself, “The Host of the Portal Palm”, was loud and had a flair for the theatrics. But deep down, Myth can see a concerned teenager who was dealt a poor hand in life. The Host of the Portal Palm remains gobsmacked at how The Host of the Speed Spirals managed to see directly through her charade.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Class Representative 

Apart from Fusion‘s repeated scoldings of “Don’t skate indoors!”, Myth and Fusion have quite the chill relationship. Fusion has this paternal air around him that reminds Myth of a couple of her skater friends back home. Myth and Fusion regularly exchange stories about their respective friend groups (Myth’s skater friends and Fusion’s class) , over a couple mugs of hot cocoa. But Myth could help but sense a bit of an inferiority complex in this strict, yet well-intentioned and kind-hearted class rep.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Stenographer

Despite their different talents, Myth and Fusion II winded up bonding really quickly, due to their similar laid-back and snarky personalities. They both are content with simply sitting on the sidelines and snarking at their eccentric comrades. Yet Myth can’t help but see a bit of her herself within Fusion II, which only makes Myth sympathise with Fusion II even more.

 Just Anon, Ultimate Cadet

From the moment that Myth met Janon, Myth couldn’t help but chuckle as this kid an inch shorter than her tried to use his title to intimidate her. Much to the dismay of the diminutive drill sergeant. Myth regularly teases Janon for not only his tryhard and wannabe-edgelord personality and adorable appearance, but also for his apparent soft spot and protective spirit for the two Jr. Ultimates. But deep down, Myth can’t help but ponder how a life in the military managed to affect a kid his age.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Kickboxer 

With Sparkle’s flashy and bombastic personality, and Myth’s laidback and sardonic personality, Myth and Sparkle have a relationship that can best be described as Sans and Papyrus. Myth regularly teases and pokes Sparkle’s buttons, but in the end, they have one of the strongest friendships, right up there with Myth and Wyre. What Sparkle doesn’t know, is that Myth has a recorded clip of Sparkle trying to use her kickboxing moves to kickflip, and ultimately failing. 

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Model and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Puppeteer

With Egg being one of the most famous NB models in recent history, of course Myth was bound to recognise them, much to the ire of Egg’s lesser-known twin, Wet Sock. Myth regularly flirts with Wet Sock as a bit of a confidence boost, because she knows that they need the ego boost, even if Wet Sock regularly denies it. Sometimes, Myth wonders just went wrong in the twins’ life to twist their minds to such cursed levels. 

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Tap Dancer

Myth found it easy to socialise with Curious, on account of their polite and courteous attitude. Myth regularly manages to convince Curious to say the weirdest stuff to other people with a completely straight face, all while she is cackling in the background. Myth definitely knows why the diminutive drill sergeant has a massive crush on them. However, Myth couldn’t help but shake her head at Curious’s density to Janon’s feelings towards them. Does she really have to be everybody‘s wingwoman?

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Soccer Player

Myth and Nerd have a “tease-tsundere” relationship, with Myth regularly saying stuff that gets Nerd all blushy and bothered. Myth also knows that Nerd‘s hostile and competitive personality is hiding a massive soft side, and she regularly tries to get him to show his soft side in any way that she can. The regular punches and cleated kicks she gets from Nerd would all be worth it in the end, when she manages to get Nerd to confess.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Waiter

From the second that Eldritch and Myth met, Eldritch instantly didn’t trust Myth for whatever reason. Eldritch regularly yells out that he doesn‘t trust her and that she is hiding something from him. Perhaps Eldritch managed to pick up on Myth’s more intuitive side. Maybe being Eldritch’s wingman would manage to make Eldritch trust her. 

Dream Anon, Ultimate Tailor

In contrast to Eldritch’s distrusting first impression, Dream was bouncy and cheery from the start. Dream regularly lets Myth model her self-tailored sportswear, and in return Myth gives Dream skateboarding lessons. Myth is currently trying to get the cowardly waiter to confess his feelings to the hyperactive and sunny tailor.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Graffiti Artist

Iris really loves giving new paint jobs to Myth’s old and chipping skateboards, and you can totally bet that Myth gives Iris skateboarding lessons along with Dream. Iris’s hyperactivity and optimism managed to endear a lot of people, even if she regularly tags the walls and other people‘s belongings without consent. But Myth couldn’t help but feel as though Iris’s eternally-positive demeanour is hiding something traumatic beneath it.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Cellist

Even if Myth isn‘t much of a classical music person, she can’t deny that Purple composes some chill tunes on her cello. Regularly seen hiding behind Fusion, Myth can’t help but be reminded of her past self when she gazes upon Purple. So Myth has took it upon herself to make the timorous musical prodigy come out of her shell.

This talentswap series is basically about a smarter-than-she-seems skateboarder acting like a bit of a therapist for the various Ultimates, with all different types of hidden baggage.

——————————————————

APPEARANCE

Skateboarder!Myth has midback-length brown hair that is dying with several purple highlights. Her bangs cover her right eye and are pulled back on the left by a neon pink and neon green barrette. On her head, she wears a grey beanie that conceals an ahoge. She also hall four grey earrings and two gold star studs. She wears a dark blue denim jacket with several colourful patches and pins over a yellow band t-shirt, She has a purple skirt, held up by a brown belt with a golden buckle. In order to prevent accidental pantie shots, she wears pink torn leggings. On her feet, she wears black boots with gold soles. —————-—————————————

PERSONALITY

Skateboarder!Myth may act carefree, sassy and is basically a massive flirty tease. But in actuality, this personality is just a facade. Beneath her air-headed and laidback facade, Skateboarder!Myth is actually really intelligent, both academically and emotionally. It’s next to impossible to hide how you feel from Skateboarder!Myth, for she has amazing intuition and knows just what makes you tick. This makes her simultaneously an amazing friend, and a nightmare of an enemy. Despite her constant razzing and ribbing of the more easily-triggered Anons, she always knows what to say to boost your confidence up and she dispenses great advice to boot. And admittingly, she‘s still a massive nerd underneath all of that punk rock fashion.

——-————————————————

What do you think about Skateboarder!Myth as a series? Let me know what you think of this talentswap in your reblogs, and you could even expand on the AU if you want! 

-Fusion Anon

[cssns]

Event Roundup Time!!!!

I am SOOOOOOO sorry y’all!!! I completely forgot to do an event roundup!!! Please forgive me!!! Fanmail from @killianjones4ever82 brought it to my attention and I’m so glad she did! We had an incredible summer and we need to have a post that can be easily accessed with all the fabulous fics and gorgeous artwork that dropped for the event! So without further ado, here we go!!!!

Under the cut, because this is gonna be a LOOOOOOONG post!!!

Here is a link to the entire collection of fics on ao3.

@welllpthisishappening opened us up this year with her first fic for the event, All the Subliminal Things. Rated T with four chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke.

Emma Swan does not believe in soulmates.

Or so she says. Because if her soulmate did, actually, exist, he should have shown up by now. So, she must be a fluke, a broken cog in a system that really doesn't make much sense anyway. It is, she figures, why she agrees to meet David's friend before Regina and Robin's wedding. This guy doesn't believe in soulmates either.

She's intrigued.

Until she hears him talk. And everything flips after that.

At the end of June, Laura posted All Was Golden In the Sky. Rated M and we have five chapters left. Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke, extra artwork by @distant-rose and @optomisticgirl can be found on Laura’s chapter blog posts.

Magic is dying.

Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away.

To New York City.

And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.

@darkcolinodonorgasm posted One Day, a LadyHawke AU with artwork by @sherlockianwhovian. Rated T and we are two chapters in. 

By day, Emma is the beautiful swan gliding over the waters of Misthaven's pond, but when night falls, the voice of the wolf the people living in the little town hear is Killian's cry. The curse was meant to be forever, to keep them always together yet eternally apart. No force in Heaven would be able to break such spell, nor any force on Earth. Or so Emma and Killian thought.

Towards the end of June Sara posted Hidden Paths Between the Moon and Sun, the sequel to her Hades and Persephone AU, Until the Stars Are All Alight. Artwork by @sherlockianwhovian. Rated M with one of six chapters so far.

The King of the Underworld has never taken a vacation before, not a proper one and not one that lasted more than a few months. Now that his firstborn is capable enough to take the throne ad interim, Killian can finally show his beloved Queen the world, giving her the honeymoon they never had the chance to have. But the King’s plan doesn’t stop quite there.

@allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 posted original art Killian Falls for Siren Emma

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea,

My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.

and Paranormal Photographers/Reporters.

When you hear the knell of a requiem bell Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell Restless bones etherealize Rise as spooks of every size

@donteattheappleshook posted Just Human Vol2, the sequel to her submission last year, Just, Human. Artwork by 1 2 by @djlbg. Rated M with five chapters. COMPLETE.

A continuation of last years CSSNS story Just Human. Now that Killian is a ghost and Mary Margaret knows everything, what does life have in store for a group of supernatural misfits? With the threat of Gold gone, Emma learns that sometimes just being human is the most complicated challenge of all.

@thislassishooked posted Wake Me Up Inside. Rated M with three chapters so far. Artwork by @tennant-the-tigger.

Killian Jones has lived longer than any man has a right to live. Most would argue that what he was doing was not living, but merely existing. The day he lost the love of his life was the day he lost the will to live, but instead of ending his life he inadvertently became the strongest being on earth and unfortunately indestructible. His mortal enemy followed him into immortality and craves the power only Killian possesses. With his brother by his side and the help of a quirky, blonde hematologist, who makes him question whether he is ready for death after all, he will fight against evil, but more importantly, for the cure.

@let-it-raines posted Not Your (Soul)Mate. Rated M with sixteen chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork 1 2 3 4 5 6 by @captainsjedi. 

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

@shireness-says posted A Drowning Soul Will Clutch at Any Straw. Rated T one shot. Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

Though this is far from Killian Jones' first encounter with a mermaid, he's never met any quite like this blonde siren. Together, can they break a cruel curse?

@snowbellewells posted her first fic for the event, Face to Face in the Broad Daylight, her sequel to last years Run to Me (In the Dead of Night) in early July. Rated T with five chapters so far. Artwork by @branlovestowrite.

Here we have a sequel to my werewolf, alternate season two and beyond fic from last year’s CSSNS. You probably want to read that story "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)" first, or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting. I hope you will enjoy. 

Marta also posted at the end of July A Story Told at Last. Rated T with three chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork by @branlovestowrite.

Historical Literature Professor Henry Mills has the chance of a lifetime before him. He might finally uncover the truth of a folktale that has intrigued him for years. But, when the whole story comes to light, will he be able to accept the story that needs to be told?

@thejollyroger-writer posted her first fic of three for the event, Love After Death: The Afterlife Hotel. Rated T one shot with artwork by @captainsjedi. 

Emma Swan has spent sixty years in the afterlife believing she was never going to meet her real soulmate, after believing in the wrong name tattooed on her wrist. But when she keeps seeing the same new guest of the Afterlife Hotel around, might she be able to learn how to love again?

Megan’s second fic for the event was What Happened in Berkshire. Rated G with two of three chapters posted. Artwork by @captainsjedi.

When Emma’s boyfriend leaves her for the woman he’s been cheating with, she accepts an offer from her hospital to move to England. While she is out celebrating her thirtieth birthday with her friends before they head back to America, she drunkenly kisses the statue of Captain Hook in front of Eton College, and he comes to life. Together, he and Emma try to figure out what this curse means for them by searching for the witch that cursed him in the first place — are they really True Love, as he wants to believe they are, or did Emma’s magic go awry?

Megan’s third fic for the event was Falling Paws Over Heels. Rated T one shot. Artwork by @captainsjedi.

Captain Killian Jones -- the notorious Captain Hook -- has heard all kinds of stories during his travels around all of the realms. But the story that has always interested him the most is that of the enchanting sorceress of Storybrooke, a small town in the Enchanted Forest's Misthaven, the sorceress who takes men to her bed, but will only give her heart to the man who befriends her cat. Will Killian be the one who finally has what it takes?

@gingerchangeling posted Luck of the Irish. Rated M with one chapter of seven so far. Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke.

Emma needs parent volunteer hours. So she offers to chaperon Henry's upcoming field trip to the museum. Its just a pack of prepubescent angst ridden children, an exhibit about dead people, and a rock used in blood sacrifices with a curse carved into it. What's the worst that could happen?

@jarienn972 posted A Simple Spell. Rated T with six chapters so far. Artwork by @cocohook38. 

This story is my entry into the 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event and is my first venture into AU territory. Storybrooke remains our setting but I've switched up some of the characters and familial relations to better suit this tale of prodigal witch Emma who returns to her birthplace to learn lots of secrets about herself and cast a spell that could change everything.

@profdanglaisstuff posted The Very Witching Time. Rated M with six chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork by @gingerchangeling. Extra artwork by @mariakov81 can be found on Saira’s chapter posts on her blog.

Emma Swan is a hereditary witch, last in a long line of wise women who for centuries have guarded the coast of Maine and the small village of Storybrooke with their homemade cures and their ancient magic. She holds the delicate balance between magic and mundane, but now that balance is threatened by a new foe, one capable of bringing an end to everything Emma is and everything she loves. To defeat it she will need all her power, help from her friends and neighbours, and the loyalty of a very unusual dog who answers to the name of Killian.

@searchingwardrobes gave us the first of two fics for the event, An Education in Southern Gothic. Rated T with two chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

Fact: there’s a graveyard between the football field and the science building. Debatable: a ghost haunts the halls of Misthaven Hills High. Emma Swan is about to get an education. Killian Jones is about to get a whole lot more.

Melanie’s second fic was titled Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee. Rated M with eight chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

Every night, she traces the contours of his body as Killian whispers words of love against her skin. But can Princess Emma ever be fully happy with a husband who only comes to her in utter darkness? A Captain Swan AU of the Roman myth of Cupid and Psyche.

@spartanguard posted Sick of Love. Rated M with three chapters. COMPLETE. Artwork by @sherlockianwhovian.

If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more?

@snidgetsafan posted Whom the Gods Love Die Young. Rated G (for the moment) with one chapter so far. Artwork by @tennant-the-tigger.

The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

David and Emma travel to the Underworld to claim back Snow after her untimely death. In order to do so, they're going to have to face the dark and mysterious God of the Underworld and complete his challenges.

Seems simple enough until you add magic, divine quarrels, and the worst thing of all: feelings.

@eastwesthomeisbest posted original artwork, The Love of the Samodiva Pts1 and 2.

In Bulgarian folklore Samodiva is an ethereal female wood nymph. She is unearthly beautiful and eternally young. Her hair is blond and long, her waist is thin and petite, her eyes can bewitch and dazzle or even kill. Any man who lays eyes on her instantly falls in love. Samodivas’ attire consists of long white gowns and shirts and a rainbow-coloured or green belt. They have a white mantel, also called a shadow, in which their power lies. They like to ride deer, using twisted snakes for reins and often carry with them bows and arrows.

If a huntsman accidentally kills a samodiva’s deer, she will make him blind or give him a disease which will inevitably lead to his death.

The wood nymphs live in dark forests, in big old trees, caves or forgotten huts which are near water sources, wells or rivers.

Samodivas can be spotted from spring to autumn. In winter they live in the mythical village Zmeykovo, which is located at the edge of the world and is a home to many mythical creatures. When they are on earth they are active at night and disappear immediately when the sun comes out, because they fear it.

At twilight, the samodivas go to fresh water sources, strip naked, wash themselves and their clothes which they lay out to dry in the moonlight. They keep a watchful eye on their drying clothes, because if a man steals their mantle, where their power lies, they turn into normal women and have to obey the man. After washing themselves and their clothes, the samodivas gather around and start singing and dancing. It is known that the samodiva’s songs are the most beautiful and their dances are the most graceful. If a late traveller sees the samodivas’ dance, he is enticed to join them and dances with them from midnight to dawn. When the sun’s rays appear, the nymphs disappear in haste and leave the traveller to die from exhaustion. The samodivas love music and often kidnap shepherds, so that they can play kaval (shepherd’s pipe) for them while they dance.

Samodivas are not always harmful. Sometimes they appear like normal working women and help with the harvest. They would especially help women with children. If a man does something good for a samodiva, she becomes his patron or a sworn sister. Sometimes, a samodiva can fall in love with a human and bear him children, who grow up to be great heroes.

Samodivas are forest creatures and therefore knowledgeable about herbs and cures. However, they never share their secrets willingly. The only way to obtain their knowledge is to eavesdrop on one of their gatherings.

@courtorderedcake posted two fics for this years event. Hallow rated E with eight chapters so far with accompanying artwork 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11.

"The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent. Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King's will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time."

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Roses, rated E with two of four chapters so far. Artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest.

A CS retelling of Tam Lin, the classic fairytale. Liberties taken. Magic and Fae BS in play.

@pirateherokillian posted Wanderer Redeemed. Rated T with just the prologue so far. Artwork coming soon from @tennant-the-tigger.

Emma, Goddess of Hope and Happy endings, finds herself in need and her only real chance of ever getting what she desires comes in the form of Killian Jones, a shunned outcast of their kind. A Modern-Day Gods Captain Swan AU written for CSSNS.

@ilovemesomekillianjones posted The Soldier, the Witch, and the Dragon. Rated M one shot with artwork 1 2 by @spartanguard.

When soldier Killian Jones shows up on witch Emma Swan's doorstep, two worlds will collide. He will learn of worlds and wonders he never imagined possible and she will learn that true love might just be in the cards for her. Witches, Dragons and Magic, Oh My! A CS story for the 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event.

@whimsicallyenchantedrose posted Until the Stars Are All Alight. Rated T with two chapters of twenty so far. Artwork by @clockadile.

CS LOTR au: When Emma Swan steals a yellow Volkswagen Beetle, she has no idea it will lead her toward an adventure filled with danger and intrigue, sacrifice and a love stronger than anything she could imagine. Tasked with bringing the Savior home, the elf, Killian Jones of Misthaven travels to the Land Without Magic. Can he convince Emma to fulfill her destiny before the Dark One regains power and takes over all of the Enchanted Forest?

And last but certainly not least, @teamhook posted Rionnag Dorcha Gorm (Dark Blue Star). Unrated with two chapters so far. Artwork by @hollyethecurious

It is said that evil is not born but made. This is how an act of kindness is twisted into a story about revenge. Emma and Killian are childhood friends until a tragedy separates them will another reunite them.

I’ve read all of these fics and they are all absolutely FANTASTIC!!! It’s been so much fun reading all these wonderful fics and staring at the gorgeous art that went with them!! Be sure to let them know how much you’re enjoying their hard work! The WIP’s will continue updating until they are finished and I will be back at the end of the month with everything that has updated in September! Until then folks!

[halfvampirehalflycan]

Warwagced's Selene and Michael for the ship meme

@warwagcd

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - 

Into eternity, obviously. With both Michael and Selene being immortal beings, they will last through the end of time

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - 

Surprisingly fast, for Michael originally being a lycan, and Selene harboring major prejudice against the lycans. After only a few days, Selene knew she would do anything for Michael, and the same for Michael. He knew he would give up his life if it meant protecting his mate.

How was their first kiss? -

Hesitant, and in Selene’s mind (out of denial), just out of trickery. Of course when she kissed Michael the first time to chain him to the chair, it was just to trick him into being off guard so she could chain him up. She couldn’t have felt anything for him. Her heart didn’t skip a beat at how soft his lips were, nor did she feel like a school girl with a crush afterwards. Michael was hurt by what she did, but he dwells on that kiss, insisting Selene would have found another way to trick him if that was the case. 

Wedding:

Who proposed? -

Michael did, though they had been discussing it for some time before this actually occurred. They agreed that it was probably best for Eve if they married and to make their thing ‘official’ in lack of better words. Being mated was great but both of them agreed it would be nice to have more to that name. When Michael finally got down on one knee, there was little question to what her response would be. 

Who is the best man/men? -

Lucian was the best man. The lycan had somehow survived the fight in the tunnels, and Michael was all too happy to ask him to be his best man, claiming that there was nobody else he would rather be as the best man at his wedding. That being said, David was one of the groomsmen, feeling obligated to have him there. 

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? -

Eve, due to the fact that she was too old to be a flower girl, and Selene knew her daughter deserved to have a part in the wedding. Selene knew that she didn’t really have many other women in her life (besides Lena), so her daughter was the Maid of Honor, and Lena became her bridesmaid. 

Who did the most planning? -

Michael did. He knew that ruling the coven was very taxing on Selene, and she didn’t have the patience to sit down and plan aspects of their wedding so that was all down on Michael. He didn’t mind, after all, their wedding wasn’t going to be that complicated. It was more a way for them to make what everyone knew was there with them being mated official

Who stressed the most? -

Selene did. She was constantly worried that her role as elder would cause parts of their wedding to become chaotic, or have to be postponed because she would have some important business to take care of. She stressed that something would happen and everything would come crashing down. She actually lost a lot of sleep because of her worries.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? -

The entire council, pretty much the entirety of the lycan pack.

Sex:

Who is on top? -

They flip. Michael does have a tendency to top Selene more often than she tops him, but she has topped him several times. It’s something they love, being able to flip positions easily. 

Who is the one to instigate things? -

Selene. It’s not always intentional (though it usually is). She’ll make some snarky comment or touch Michael’s leg, a little high up, and then normally she’ll walk off, well aware that she set him off and she would just have to wait before Michael would pin her to the nearest surface or take her into bed and ravage her. 

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now (Let’s be honest here, they probably have sex a lot)

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? -

Depends, really. The can go at it for hours really if they so wanted (obviously several rounds long), but they normally don’t. 

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? -

Definitely. Michael is focused on making sure Selene orgasms as many times as he does, the desire to see her face as she climaxes is overwhelming. He finds her probably at her most beautiful, completely at his mercy. Similarly to Michael, Selene loves to make sure Michael has the same about of orgasms as she does. 

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? -

At least three. Michael wants a large family, and worked to get Selene to finally agree. They have three total children after about twenty years together, Eve being the oldest, followed by a son who is born when Eve is fourteen, and last another daughter who is born when Eve is eighteen.

How many children will they adopt? -

While they never officially adopt any children, whenever the coven finds abandoned vampire or lycan children, Michael takes them in to take care of them until another couple is willing to adopt. He becomes a foster dad in his own right, and Selene finds herself wanting to adopt some of them, but her time as an Elder leaves her with little time to care for more than her own children. That being said, she always checks up on the children once they were adopted, and many of them have taken to calling her ‘Auntie Selene’.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? -

Michael, but not because he was forced. It was his part of the deal. Despite his senses being far more sensitive to the smells, he offered to take care of the diapers since Selene had to breast feed the babies and was still running the coven while that was going on. 

Who is the stricter parent? -

Selene. Michael is a total softy when it comes to their children, and finds it incredibly difficult to say no to. Selene is still wrapped around all three of their children’s fingers, that being said, she is a lot stricter, being the one who set the rules for them and enforces the rules when Michael has a harder time doing that. 

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? -

Michael does. He had been the kid who got hurt a lot because he decided to try all the stupid stunts. He knew how painful it could be, even when their children were hybrids. He would always seem to know when one of them was going to try something stupid and stop them relatively quickly.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? -

While none of their children attend school, Michael is the one who tends brings his kids blood when it’s time for them to feed. Selene does it when there is nothing going on around the coven that requires her attention, and the children always get so excited when Mummy brings the food. 

Who is the more loved parent? -

Selene. That isn’t to say that they don’t adore Michael, but all three of their kids seem to love Selene a little more. It’s because spending time with Selene is always a gift, because she is constantly busy with things going around the coven. Michael is always around, while Selene is constantly working, and while she tries to find time for her family, it grows harder. 

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?

If their children attended school, it would be Michael. He’d be active in their children’s school life, between chaperoning field trips, PTA and volunteering in the classroom, he would be the ultimate school dad.  

Who cried the most at graduation? -

Selene would, because, for her, she never had an opportunity to go through schooling. She grew up in a time where girls never went to school. They learned basics, but her focus was to be on the home. Eve ended up going to college and when Selene saw her daughter, who had gone through so much hell, get her diploma, she couldn’t keep from crying. She was so proud that Eve had the opportunity to have this life for herself and any opportunities she didn’t have. 

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? -

Selene, if only because she wants to keep their secret under wraps and if any of their children get in trouble with the law, it risks exposure for them and for the entire coven. That being said, once they get back to the coven, all three of their kids believe that they would have preferred what the result would have been with the law. 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? -

While neither of them can eat, Selene is actually the one who gets the blood for her and Michael. She knows that if she didn’t do that, he would just continue to put off feeding until he became close to a bloodlust state. 

Who is the most picky in their food choice? -

I mean, both of them have very very limited options for what they can eat, blood. So neither is really picky in that sense. They could just die if they had anything else.

Who does the grocery shopping? -

Michael, technically, before they moved into the coven where they had the steady stream of blood bags, he would steal bags from the hospitals he was working out to provide for him and Selene. 

How often do they bake desserts? -

Never, eating it could kill them. Michael wished he could though, because he misses chocolate with an intense passion.  

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? -

Meat, if they could have anything. In theory, Michael has considered the option that he could consume meat as long as it wasn’t season and it was bloody. He wasn’t willing to put it to the test.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? -

Michael. Although not much since there could never be a real meal, Michael often goes out of his way to surprise his mate on their anniversary with as close to an anniversary dinner as possible. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? -

Selene, hunting is something she knows is important as Michael is still part lycan. They go out together on some nights and hunt some animals in the woods for their blood. 

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? -

Selene, if she ever tried cooking, she’d probably burn the coven down because she had no real idea on how to cook. She learned over six hundred years before all of this.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? -

Michael. It gives him something productive to do during the day. While at night he works in the coven infirmary, during the day when sometimes he finds himself unable to sleep, he ends up cleaning up the room. It keeps him occupied when he really struggles with sleep. It surprises Selene when she wakes up and sees that their room had been cleaned up.

Who is really against chores? -

Neither of them, really. Both were raised in households where chores were necessary, so they were never against it. While there are certain things that one would rather not do, the other is more than happy to do it instead. 

Who cleans up after the pets? -

If they ever get a pet, it’s actually their children’s job to clean up after it, because the pet would have been for them. Michael does catch himself cleaning up after the cat though fairly frequently, much to his dismay. 

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? -

Selene, just out of a lack for time. When she cleans, usually it’s something that occurs last minute and she has to get it done as quickly as possible. She’ll find places for things until she can actually find the time to clean it all up, which she never really does.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? -

Neither of them really stress. They figure that whenever guests are coming, they aren’t planning on visiting their private quarters, so the coven is fine on its own. 

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? -

Usually Michael, and he ends up putting it into a jar just to see how much money he can build up from it. He’s already gotten up to about twenty dollars just from finding cash in between the couch cushions. 

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? -

They normally take showers together, so the timing is usually about equal. The few times they shower separately, Selene takes longer because she ends up getting a lot filthier during the day and needs to spend more time cleaning off from the grime and blood that gets on her during missions. 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? -

Selene takes Michael out for constant walks. Michael tends to be the one to find time to walk the dog, plus he often goes for runs with said dog, so he’s usually the one out on walks with the dog. 

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? -

Michael is the one who insists that they decorate for the holidays, which Selene and the other elders find ridiculous, until all the coven children (especially Eve), finds great joy at the Christmas tree that seemed to just appear in the coven floor. It becomes a yearly tradition for them, and about two years later, a menorah got added in for any vampires who, in their mortal days, were Jewish. 

What are their goals for the relationship? -

Honestly, during the beginning of their relationship, it was just survival. All they wanted to do was make it through day by day, and hopefully survive. Now, it’s to live in peace. Michael has been discussing an offer for peace with the lycans, claiming that he wants to raise his children in a time without war, he wants to rid the coven of judgement so he and Selene could be together without the stares. While Selene agrees that it would be nice, she reminds her mate that the idea is still several years away at least. 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? -

Michael, just because he’ll be working in the coven infirmary at all hours and is lucky to find sleep at a reasonable time. When he gets to sleep, he’ll sleep like the dead for hours to Selene’s dismay. She doesn’t sleep. She’s constantly on alert from her six centuries of being a warrior. She can never sleep. 

Who plays the most pranks? -

Neither of them play a whole lot of pranks, but Michael has been one who pulls a few more on Selene than she does to him. Though he’s learned quickly that he needs to be careful because if he plays a prank on her when she’s in a bad mood, he will be sleeping on the couch for days. 

[cssns]

Hello everyone! We are BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!

It is that time again! Time for the monthly roundup for July and to look ahead to what’s coming up in August! 

So y’all buckle up! We will start with those fics and art that dropped in July, then highlight the MC’s that updated in July. We will end the post with what we have to look forward to for the rest of the event! We had some INCREDIBLE fics and art drop in July and we have a lot more to look forward to in August! Make sure and let the authors and artists know how much you’re enjoying their hard work!!! So without further ado, HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

@snowbellewells started us off this month with Face to Face in the Broad Daylight, a sequel to her CSSNS submission from last year, Run to Me (In the Dead of Night). Beautiful artwork by @branlovestowrite! Rated T with 4 chapters so far.

@thejollyroger-writer gave us Love After Death: The Afterlife Hotel. A one shot and a bit of a different take on the soulmate trope with absolutely perfect artwork by @captainsjedi.

Emma Swan has spent sixty years in the afterlife believing she was never going to meet her real soulmate, after believing in the wrong name tattooed on her wrist. But when she keeps seeing the same new guest of the Afterlife Hotel around, might she be able to learn how to love again? Rated T

@gingerchangeling presented us with Luck of the Irish with lovely artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke

Emma needs parent volunteer hours. So she offers to chaperon Henry's upcoming field trip to the museum. Its just a pack of prepubescent angst ridden children, an exhibit about dead people, and a rock used in blood sacrifices with a curse carved into it. What's the worst that could happen? Rated M with 1 chapter so far.

@jarienn972 gave us A Simple Spell with beautiful artwork by @cocohook38

This story is my entry into the 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event and is my first venture into AU territory. Storybrooke remains our setting but I've switched up some of the characters and familial relations to better suit this tale of prodigal witch Emma who returns to her birthplace to learn lots of secrets about herself and cast a spell that could change everything. Rated T with 3 chapters so far.

@profdanglaisstuff presented us with The Very Witching Time with incredible  artwork by @gingerchangeling and extra artwork by @mariakov81.

Emma Swan is a hereditary witch, last in a long line of wise women who for centuries have guarded the coast of Maine and the small village of Storybrooke with their homemade cures and their ancient magic. She holds the delicate balance between magic and mundane, but now that balance is threatened by a new foe, one capable of bringing an end to everything Emma is and everything she loves. To defeat it she will need all her power, help from her friends and neighbours, and the loyalty of a very unusual dog who answers to the name of Killian. Rated M with 3 of 4 chapters so far.

@searchingwardrobes gave us An Education in Southern Gothic with some seriously spooky artwork by @hollyethecurious

Fact: there’s a graveyard between the football field and the science building. Debatable: a ghost haunts the halls of Misthaven Hills High. Emma Swan is about to get an education. Killian Jones is about to get a whole lot more. Rated T COMPLETE

@spartanguard presented us with Sick of Love with lovely artwork by @sherlockianwhovian

If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more? Rated M with 2 of 3 chapters so far.

@snidgetsafan gave us Whom the Gods Love Die Young with beautiful artwork by @tennant-the-tigger

The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

David and Emma travel to the Underworld to claim back Snow after her untimely death. In order to do so, they're going to have to face the dark and mysterious God of the Underworld and complete his challenges.

Seems simple enough until you add magic, divine quarrels, and the worst thing of all: feelings. Rated G (for the moment) with one chapter so far

@snowbellewells gave us a second fic this month as well! A Story Told at Last with gorgeous artwork by @branlovestowrite

Historical Literature Professor Henry Mills has the chance of a lifetime before him. He might finally uncover the truth of a folktale that has intrigued him for years. But, when the whole story comes to light, will he be able to accept the story that needs to be told? Rated T with a prologue so far and two parts yet to come.

@thejollyroger-writer gifted us a second fic this month too! What Happened in Berkshire. Artwork coming soon by @captainsjedi.

When Emma’s boyfriend leaves her for the woman he’s been cheating with, she accepts an offer from her hospital to move to England. While she is out celebrating her thirtieth birthday with her friends before they head back to America, she drunkenly kisses the statue of Captain Hook in front of Eton College, and he comes to life. Together, he and Emma try to figure out what this curse means for them by searching for the witch that cursed him in the first place — are they really True Love, as he wants to believe they are, or did Emma’s magic go awry? Rated G with one chapter so far. Part 2 coming soon.

We also had original art drop from @eastwesthomeisbest called The Love of the Samodiva Pts1 and 2.

In Bulgarian folklore Samodiva is an ethereal female wood nymph. She is unearthly beautiful and eternally young. Her hair is blond and long, her waist is thin and petite, her eyes can bewitch and dazzle or even kill. Any man who lays eyes on her instantly falls in love. Samodivas’ attire consists of long white gowns and shirts and a rainbow-coloured or green belt. They have a white mantel, also called a shadow, in which their power lies. They like to ride deer, using twisted snakes for reins and often carry with them bows and arrows.

If a huntsman accidentally kills a samodiva’s deer, she will make him blind or give him a disease which will inevitably lead to his death.

The wood nymphs live in dark forests, in big old trees, caves or forgotten huts which are near water sources, wells or rivers.

Samodivas can be spotted from spring to autumn. In winter they live in the mythical village Zmeykovo, which is located at the edge of the world and is a home to many mythical creatures. When they are on earth they are active at night and disappear immediately when the sun comes out, because they fear it.

At twilight, the samodivas go to fresh water sources, strip naked, wash themselves and their clothes which they lay out to dry in the moonlight. They keep a watchful eye on their drying clothes, because if a man steals their mantle, where their power lies, they turn into normal women and have to obey the man. After washing themselves and their clothes, the samodivas gather around and start singing and dancing. It is known that the samodiva’s songs are the most beautiful and their dances are the most graceful. If a late traveller sees the samodivas’ dance, he is enticed to join them and dances with them from midnight to dawn. When the sun’s rays appear, the nymphs disappear in haste and leave the traveller to die from exhaustion. The samodivas love music and often kidnap shepherds, so that they can play kaval (shepherd’s pipe) for them while they dance.

Samodivas are not always harmful. Sometimes they appear like normal working women and help with the harvest. They would especially help women with children. If a man does something good for a samodiva, she becomes his patron or a sworn sister. Sometimes, a samodiva can fall in love with a human and bear him children, who grow up to be great heroes.

Samodivas are forest creatures and therefore knowledgeable about herbs and cures. However, they never share their secrets willingly. The only way to obtain their knowledge is to eavesdrop on one of their gatherings.

As you can see, we’ve had wonderful fics and art drop this month! And we also had several fics from June update, and also 2 fics from last years event!!!

@welllpthisishappening updated All Was Golden in the Sky many times! The story is complete and she updates regularly on Tuesday and Friday. We are about a third of the way through the entire fic. Ch 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke and chapter art 1 2 4 5 6 7 8 9  by @distant-rose 

@let-it-raines had been updating Not Your (Soul)Mate chs 4 5 6 7 8 with artwork 1 2 3 by @captainsjedi.

@darkcolinodonorgasm updated One Day for us ch2 with gorgeous artwork by @sherlockianwhovian

Our two updated fics from last years event come to us courtesy of @kymbersmith-90 Divine Intervention ch7 with artwork by @hollyethecurious 

and 

@seriouslyhooked Lost Souls and Reveries ch19 with artwork by @shipsxahoy.

So that is all the fics and art that dropped or updated last month! And now, let’s look ahead to what we have to look forward to for the rest of the event!

Tomorrow @courtorderedcake will be dropping her first fic for the event Hallow with accompanying artwork. Her second fic, Roses will drop on Aug. 24 with artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest.

@searchingwardrobes will be dropping a Cupid and Psyche AU on Aug. 6, Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee. Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

@ilovemesomekillianjones will be dropping a soulmate AU on Aug. 8. Artwork by @spartanguard.

@pirateherokillian will be dropping a modern day gods AU on Aug. 15. Artwork by @tennant-the-tigger.

@thejollyroger-writer will be dropping a THIRD one shot for us on Aug. 18. Artwork by @captainsjedi.

@wyntereyez will be dropping a werewolf Killian fic on Aug. 20. Artwork by @gingerchangeling.

@kymbersmith-90 will be dropping her fic on Aug 22. Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke.

@whimsicallyenchantedrose will be dropping a Lord of the Rings inspired AU on Aug. 27. Artwork by @clockadile.

@lizzyc807shipscaptainswan will be dropping a vampire guardian angel fic on Aug. 29. Artwork by @courtorderedcake.

@teamhook will be closing out the event with her fic dropping on Sept. 2 Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

Ohhhh my WORD!!! Do we have some good stuff coming up!!!! I can’t wait for all this!!!! And of course, our other WIP’s will continue to update as well! Make sure that you let the authors and artists know how much you are enjoying their work! Sometimes it’s exactly that that keeps them motivated and posting! I’ll see you back here in a little over a month for the event roundup with links to everything that’s been posted since we started in June! Until then y’all!