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mldrgrl · 4 years ago

Note

prompt: Mulder and Scully being competitive with each other over silly things - Jeopardy? solving the case before the end of an episode of some sort of forensic crime show? how many slices of pizza they can eat? a board game? etc.

Loved this one, Anon, thank you so much. And I was in the mood to whip up something humorous. Went to sleep last night thinking about it.

Half and Half

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG

“I’m dying to get out of this suit,” Scully says. “Give me ten minutes and then we can go through the report?”

“I’ll leave the connecting door unlocked,” Mulder says as they exit their rental car and head to the doors to their rooms. “Come over when you’re done and we’ll order in.”

She sighs in relief as she kicks off her heels at the door. She tosses her blazer to the side, unbuttons her shirt, and loosens her skirt. She clips her hair back, washes her face, and changes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

File folders under her arm, she taps lightly on the connecting door before she pushes it open. Mulder is sitting at the edge of the bed, tie off and buttons undone at the neck. His shirtsleeves are rolled up and he’s yelling at the TV.

“What is Mork & Mindy!” he yells. “Mork and Mindy, you idiots. Everyone knows ‘nanu nanu.’”

“We were looking for, ‘What is Mork & Mindy?’” Alex Trebeck says.

“Obviously,” Mulder says. “How did you people even get on the show?”

“What are you doing?” Scully asks.

“Playing Jeopardy.”

“TV Catchphrases for $400, Alex.”

“Book ‘em, Danno.”

“What is Hawaii 5-0,” Mulder yells, just as Scully says, “Hawaii 5-0.”

Mulder makes the sound of a buzzer. “You have to answer in the form of a question, Scully, or it doesn’t count.”

“I still knew the answer.”

“You mean, the question.”

“Do you want to debate the semantics of Jeopardy or go over the reports?”

“Sure, sure.”

“Let’s try Shakespeare Who Said it? for $200.”

“Double double, toil and trouble.”

“Who are the witches?” Mulder answers.

“Who are the three witches of Macbeth,” Scully says at the same time.

“Who is Macbeth?” answers the first contestant to ring in.

“Oh, come on,” Scully says. “You can’t be that dumb.”

“Right?”

“Not quite what we’re looking for,” Alex answers. Finally, the second contestant answers correctly.

“Shakespeare Who Said It for $300.”

“I prithee daughter do not make me mad.”

“Baptista, maybe,” Mulder answers. “Who is Baptista?”

“No, who is King Lear?” Scully disagrees.

“Who is King Lear?”

“Who is, King Lear. Act 2, scene 4, referring to Goneril. And that will lead us to our first commercial break. More to come after these words from our sponsors.”

“I should’ve known that one,” Mulder says, scooting over to make room for Scully on the bed. “$600 to $500, I’m winning.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You lost Hawaii 5-0 to incorrect phrasing.”

“You didn’t establish the rules. $600 to $900, I’m winning.”

“I didn’t have to establish anything, those are the inherent rules of Jeopardy. Everybody knows that.”

“Mulder, I’m here to go over these reports,” Scully answers, holding up the file folders that have been tucked under her arm the whole time. She is still standing.

“How about a little wager?”

“On what?”

“Winner orders the pizza of their choice, loser pays.”

“Come on, Mulder.”

“You don’t think you can beat me?”

“No, I know I can beat you. I just want to get this review done so I can go to bed.”

“Scully, it’s 7 o’clock. The review can wait. Unless you’re just chicken.”

“Very mature.”

“Triple dog dare you?”

Scully held her hand out as though to shake Mulder’s. “We start with a clean slate going in from the commercial and we make our own wagers on Double Jeopardy questions.”

“I’ll keep score!” Mulder leaves Scully’s handshake hanging in the breeze and jumps up to grab the complimentary pad of paper and pen on the motel desk, which she snatches from him as soon as he comes back to sit down.

“I’ll keep score,” she says.

“You are the math geek.”

They sit through contestant bios and Alex Trebek’s vaguely sarcastic comments on the tidbits they’ve chosen to share with the audience. When the game starts back up again, there are two answers left in Shakespeare Who Said It? and every answer available in Civil War Nicknames, The Old West, and American Folklore.

Unsurprisingly, Mulder dominates the folklore category, but they tie for two answers. They both struggle with The Old West more than Civil War Nicknames, but the answers there are easier to decipher within the clues. Mulder is up $700 when the first Daily Double comes up in The Old West.

“$200,” Scully says. “I already don’t even want to know the answer.”

“$500,” Mulder answers.

“Suffering from tuberculosis and alcoholism, this dentist turned gunslinger died in a sanitarium at the age of 36.”

“Who is Doc Holliday,” Scully answers.

“Who is Bat Master..dammit!” Mulder replies just a beat behind her.

“You should’ve known that one.”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head. What’s the damage?”

“We’re tied.”

“All right, next round, it’s getting serious.”

“Prepare to pay for a large vegetarian with extra olives.”

“Ugh, vegetables on pizza is the antithesis to the point of pizza.”

“And what is the point of pizza?”

“All the pepperoni you can handle and then add in some sausage for good measure.”

“You’re a heart attack waiting to happen, Mulder. When was the last time you had your cholesterol checked?”

“In May, actually. Fit as a fiddle. Here we go, round 2.”

“...categories are: Before & After, Science, Word Origins, Potpourri, The Body Human, and finally, Astronomy. ”

The contestants seem fixated on Potpourri and Before & After, to Mulder’s relief. He isn’t ready for Scully to completely smoke him in the Science and The Body Human categories. He figures if he can do well enough in the first two, he might be able to hold firm and maybe they might get to Astronomy where he can make a comeback. Sure enough, she responds so quickly in the first two Science answers he can’t even get a word out.

“Born this year, a sheep named this introduced the world to cloning.”

“Dolly!” Mulder yells, too excited about knowing a Science question he forgets to phrase it properly.

“Who is Dolly,” Scully corrects.

“Dammit!”

“Your rules.”

“I know, I know. Still, dammit.”

Blessedly, the contestants leave Science and migrate to Astronomy and since the first answer is the planet nicknamed The Red Planet, a Jeopardy equivalent of low-hanging fruit, they stick with it. The first Daily Double of the 2nd round hits them at the $800 question in Astronomy.

“I’m up by $1,600,” Scully says. “You have $3,900.”

“I’m going to make it a true Daily Double.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“$600,” Scully says, after a few moments hesitation.

Mulder worries his bottom lip with his teeth and waits for the answer to come.

“This spiral galaxy is named for an Ethiopian princess in Greek Mythology.”

“What is Andromeda!” They both yell.

Mulder realizes he’s sweating after the last question and even though it paid off, he vows not to make that kind of gamble again. Scully berates herself for not being more confident in her astronomy knowledge as she now trails Mulder by $1,700, which may or may not be easy to recover from.

Time runs out before all the clues are revealed and the 2nd Daily Double is never found. By final Jeopardy, they’re nearly neck and neck, with Mulder at $9,100 and Scully at $8,500.

“The final category is: Computers.”

“Good thing The Gunmen aren’t here,” Mulder says. “Gimme one of those sheets of paper and we can write our wagers and guesses like the others.”

Scully rips off a piece of paper and they both take nearly all of the commercial break to come up with their wagers. Scully folds her paper in half with the wager face down. Mulder turns his over and places it on the bed.

“And here we go with the final answer. Born in 1815, this daughter of a famous poet published an algorithm for a mechanical calculator and is believed by some to be the first ever computer programmer.”

Mulder writes his answer immediately and Scully taps her pen against her teeth as the final Jeopardy music winds down. She finally picks up her paper and memorializes her guess before the final note.

“Whatcha got?” Mulder asks.

“I want to see their answers first,” Scully replies.

Mulder bounces his knee in anticipation. The contestant in 3rd place answers incorrectly with Dora Wordsworth, but only wagered $1.

“I hate when they do that,” Scully says. “It’s not The Price is Right.”

“Listen, if the category was Nuclear Physics, I might only be waging $1 as well.”

“Too bad it wasn’t.”

The contestant in 2nd place also answers incorrectly with “Who is ____?” and ends up with $4500. Mulder shakes his head.

“At least put something,” he says.

“Seriously,” Scully agrees.

“And now Judith, our three day champion, currently in the lead with $13,800. What did she guess? Who is Ada Lovelace? Daughter of Lord Byron, known for her work on Charles Babbage’s Analytical Engine, August Ada King, Countess of Lovelace, or Ada Lovelace. And how much did Judith wager? $7,000, bringing her three day total to $65,941.”

“Alright, Scully, moment of truth.”

“Count of three?” she asks.

“Is that one, two, reveal? Or one, two, three, reveal?”

“One, two, reveal.”

“Okay. One, two…”

They both turn their papers around. Both answered Who is Ada Lovelace? They both grin.

“Frohike would be so tickled with your familiarity with the mother of computer programming,” Mulder says.

“Yeah? How does he feel about your familiarity with her?”

“Pretty jealous, actually.”

“What was your wager?”

Mulder turns over the paper again to show her. “$3,000. You?”

Scully bites her lip a little and then flips the fold of her paper for Mulder to see. “$8,000.”

“$8,000!”

“Go big or go home, right?”

“Damn, Scully. You’re a monster. In a good way, obviously. But, damn. So, I guess that vegetarian is on me.”

“Extra olives.”

“With extra olives.” He grimaces and gets up to grab the Yellow Pages in the nightstand.

Scully opens up her file folders and begins sorting the reports for review across the end of Mulder’s bed as he searches for a pizza parlor. He’s on the phone fairly quickly after browsing the phone book.

“Yes, I’d like to place an order for delivery,” Mulder says. “A large. Vegetarian.”

“Half vegetarian,” Scully interrupts without looking up. “Half pepperoni and sausage.”

“Sorry, half vegetarian, half pepperoni and sausage. Extra olives on the vegetarian side, please. Yeah, I’ll hold.” Mulder drops the phone to his shoulder while hold music plays and smiles slightly. “Scully, you interested in a rematch tomorrow night?”

“Depends on how interested you are in buying another pizza.”

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #humor #so competitive #Anonymous

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thanksjro · 5 years ago

Text

Telefunken, A Prequel to Eugenesis: The Future Is Obsessed With Making Babies

All These Materials, And I Still Had To Keep The Wiki Open The Whole Time

This short story was included with the secondary publication of Eugenesis, which happened in 2007, six years after the first run. Yep. He had multiple publication runs. Back when you had to actually go and talk to people about what you wanted published instead of doing everything online. For a novel-length fan fiction about murdering space robots and then having them give birth to tentacle monsters.

I wish I had the friggin’ brass balls Roberts does.

Telefunken as a term doesn’t mean anything in any language, but that doesn’t mean we can’t gain any sort of understanding using context clues.

Tele- as a part of Greek, means “from a distance.” So whatever’s happening is far off. In the future, perhaps? The pre-story quotes certainly seem to imply such a thing.

A couple hundred years into the future, actually. With a list like that, one has to wonder just who the hell can get into Maccadam’s these days.

Funken itself actually is a word- it’s German for spark. So “from a distance” + “spark”. Alright, let’s see where this goes.

Is… is this someone trying to convince someone else to read Eugenesis? Is Roberts making the space robots read this batshit story? Is he threatening them? Because making someone read an entire book’s worth of slaughter of their race sort of feels like a threat.

Okay, moving on to actual story, our narrator starts the day by blinding himself. He turns the input on his optics all the way up and stares at the sun.

I don’t know why.

Once he’s done that, he reflects on the nature of change, and how some things just can’t be fixed.

I see we’ve hit our fascist phase. Because they’re only allowed to enjoy the rejuvenation of the planet if they’re wearing Prowl’s face on their chest, right?

Our narrator seems to have an alternate take on the walls, though- seems more like they’re trying to keep the citizens in as opposed to the ruffians out.

Scene jump, and we’re in the middle of a conversation between two folks about some guy who killed an Autobot and fled. Yeah, no one with dialogue has been properly identified as of yet. All I know currently is that one of the conversationalists is a commander. Something tells me Nightbeat’s involved with the scene.

But that’s just a hunch.

So, looks like the Transformers had a little more room for the war buffet after all, because they’ve had at least two named squabbles in the last couple centuries. Hence, our narrator is off to try and corroborate a rumor that Galvatron is still kicking around.

He heads through the religious sector to get downtown, lamenting that Iacon’s been reduced to a military city-state in order to keep some façade of peace going on. He didn’t go through the hell that was the Eugenesis Wars for this.

Ooh, a dash of fantastic racism to really bring out the acidic taste of Orson Welles 1984. Maybe this is Prowl, actually, which would explain why he hasn’t been explicitly named. Would kind of ruin the whole end of the novel, wouldn’t it?

I’m not saying it’s Prowl because of the racism. More the clean dividing of folks into categories and statistical data.

Our narrator walks through the throng, ignores a homeless veteran, and passes by a crowd of Creationists on pilgrimage, and with that he’s off to Autobot City 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Meanwhile, back with the guys reading this account- yes, turns out they’re outside of this particular story- more details are being revealed.

The Turning, you say.

Vampire robots it is, then.

Back with the narrator, he’s just found what he’d been looking for- an Autobot badge, close enough to the real thing to work for his purposes. He heads inside something called an “ingestion tank”- I’m imagining the fucking eating chairs from IDW2- and oh-so-sneakily adds a few screw-looking bombs to the badge.

Hmm. I’m thinking my guesses are just a bit off-base.

Back at the narrative, our narrator has just arrived at the Ministry, where Sideswipe and his boys are truly living up to the ACAB lifestyle- Sideswipe is literally unloading clips into a crowd of protestors. Apparently this isn’t anything new.

Oh-kay. So. Back in the epilogue for Eugenesis, Wheeljack made an offhand comment about Rodimus wanting to look into streamlining the biomorphic reproductive process, using the power of science. This was something Ratchet really wasn’t thrilled about- he’s the Transformer-equivalent to being child-free, I guess- and let me tell you something: if Ratchet thinks something is a bad idea, it almost absolutely is. But it looks like Rodimus got his way, if our narrator’s cryptic statements are to be believed.

Let’s get fucking weird for a second.

Millions of years ago the biomorphic process was decided to be too slow for the colonial ways of the Cybertronian Empire, so morphing centers were created, where protoforms were basically injected with false memories to kickstart their lives. Think MTO programming from IDW, but more mechpreggy. This practice died out when the shortage of energon caught up with everyone, and was left behind for the most part.

EXCEPT FOR THIS. Turns out that Kup actually wasn’t all that old, he just thought he was. Why did they do this? Assumedly for the preservation of their research. Does it factor into anything ever for Kup? Nah, not really. Also:

🄹🄰🄼🄴🅂 🅆🄷🄰🅃 🅃🄷🄴 🄵🅄🄲🄺

Telefunken really is what makes the director’s cut of Eugenesis. This is where all the really weird shit is. If you ever fucking read this nightmare of a book, you better make sure Telefunken is included, because you will be reeling.

Anyway, the planet can’t handle more than a few hundred thousand robots, energon-wise, so the Treaty of Antimorphism was signed- a sort of “no more mechpreg” agreement between the Autobots and Decepticons. Not sure how they’re going to stop someone’s torso from vomiting up a goo baby, seeing as the process appears to be completely random, but they probably know more about the process than I do.

Yeah, that treaty is broken almost immediately. I mean, come on, we know who’s writing this story, it’s amazing that the idea was even remotely considered.

The Autobots decided that they were going to start underground biomorph rings, where Lifers- y’know, the guys who can actually do this sort of thing- spit out protoforms on command to supplement the Autobot forces, in case more war broke out.

They can give birth on command.

I-

I just-

How-

Okay. Sure.

BUT HOW-

Of course, a lot of people had a problem with this, seeing as they already had a solution to the problem of a limited population, in the copies of everyone’s brains Rodimus had commissioned after the events of Eugenesis. Yeah, that’s the root of the problem right there: it was unnecessary. Certainly not the violations of the free will and rights of the poor bastards who got chained to a table and told to start pumping out new robots at what was probably gunpoint in the basement of some bombed out building. Nope! Just that the whole thing was superfluous.

That was about the time that the Anticopyist protests started- how convenient- and the mind crystals were buried, never to see the light of day. Of course, Star Saber might have had a hand in quietly recovering the crystals, but that’s just hearsay.

It’s all going down the tubes, really- High Commands gearing up for the inevitable civil war that’s about to break out amid all this bullshit. Prowl and Nightbeat are trying to put a stop to things, but what are two guys with crippling depression going to do against all this crap? Not much. Especially now that there are Neogens discovering that they aren’t who they think they are.

The slogan is “maximum speed, maximum efficiency.” I’ll let you take a wild guess as to what these weirdos call themselves.

Sideswipe and his goons get done with killing civilians, and our narrator can finally get on with their mission- an interview with Rodimus Prime, who is dying. Again. We just can’t keep our Primes alive, can we? Can’t keep ‘em dead either, but that’s not the point.

But I thought Cyclonus was key.

…I’m sorry, that was dumb.

Anyway, our narrator gets through security, bombs undetected, and prepares to finish his thesis.

These outside conversationalists are kind of morbid, aren’t they? Still, we wouldn’t have the narrative if they weren’t, so thanks? I guess? For being weird voyeurs of terrorist activities?

The narrator makes his way to the basement, where they’ve got Rodimus stashed.

But how are his tiddies? Are they ridiculously huge? Does he breast boobily down the hall towards you? Too bad First Aid’s dead, he’d be all over this behemoth.

You know, last time we saw Springer, his sole purpose in life was getting high. Wonder how he got to this point in just a couple hundred years. That’s nothing to these guys. Guess he traded in the space-heroin for juicing.

Springer, because I guess he’s kind of an asshole in this story, threatens our narrator, saying that he’s got a joor- pretty much an hour- to talk to Rodimus, and one second beyond that he’s throwing his ass out the door. He makes this point very emphatically, and repeatedly. Springer needs to take a chill pill.

With that, our narrator double-checks that his rigged badge is still there- how many times are we going to blow up Rodimus Prime?- and enters the medvault.

Rodimus isn’t doing so hot.

Despite the obvious lag in his brain, Rodimus is happy to be of service to a young student, and invites the narrator to sit and stay awhile.

Now that’s just cruel, Roberts. You gotta give Rodimus something, you already killed his best friend and most of his comrades. No wonder he’s depressed in every continuity, all the writers are mean as hell to our boy Rodders.

Our narrator starts off by asking about Scorponok, and Rodimus takes so long to answer he wonders if the guy just went ahead and died. But Rodimus, ever a good sport, does eventually answer. He talks about all the major Decepticon players, and our narrator smiles and listens, waiting for the point where Unicron is mentioned. He really wants to hear about Unicron, and can practically taste his presence in the room, seeing as Rodimus is still possessed.

You see, our dear narrator is a space-satanist.

Unfortunately, when Rodimus finally utters the name of the robot-devil, nothing happens.

No, see, if the Transformers had Plan B, none of this mechpreg stuff would be fucking happening.

This is where our outside conversationalists come more into play, revealing themselves to be Star Saber- finally entering the story proper- and Great Shot, who I can’t seem to find anything on. We get treated to the security footage from this point on, getting a lovely scene of our narrator yelling at a dying old man, as the two discuss the Turning. It’s a major point of concern for a lot of the troops, and we’re shown why, as Rodimus starts having a Reagan-from-the-Exorcist-level fit about the same time as our narrator drops his bomb. The room explodes, and our narrator escapes out into the world.

From here on, all of the narrative comes from out narrator’s internal recording. He keeps running, beyond the walls of the city and into the Rad Zone, until he hits Eocra. Eocra is where that chunk of space rock from Liars A-to-D was housed. I guess we’ll find out if it’s still there.

He requests an audience with Servion from a member of the Brotherhood of Chaos whom he doesn’t recognize, and is ushered inside.

Into an underground room with a window showing the stars and just packed with Decepticons. Even Blitzwing’s there- I’d figured he’d been one of the POWs who kicked the bucket, but apparently not. Turns out that door he went through was a teleport. They want our narrator’s thesis. He hands it over immediately.

Go for it, guys, his resume from today alone is beyond impressive. He’s done more in the last six hours than most of your top guys have done in their entire careers.

The Decepticons say that they’ll be in touch, and with that they shove him out of the room. Well, that’s that. Guess it’s time to go and see if the rumors about the losers in Kalis are a bunch of bunk after all.

And that’s the end of his datalog.

Back with the ‘Cons, the boys are gossiping about their new hire. Turns out he’s one of theirs anyway- a Neogen, and his name is Tarantulus.

I checked, it’s a valid alternate spelling of his name.

Over with Galvatron- did you honestly think he was dead?- the edgy bastard’s preparing for the Final Purge. Turns out he’s still under Unicron’s thumb, even after all this time. He’s pleased to hear that Rodimus is dying, and recalls being able to corrupt the Lifecode when he needled the Prime during other desperate moments. He decides he’s going to do that again.

Back with Start Saber and Great Shot, the boys are cooking up some tasty treats in their politically-powered lie kitchen. As far as the public knows, Tarantulus was shot to death by the guards when he approached the wall. Prime’s Turned, which sucks for him, but might work out in Star Saber’s favor. Just too bad that that one guard got in between Rodimus and the bomb blast.

So I guess Star Saber being less than piously heroic is just a Roberts thing. Alrighty then.

That��s the end of Telefunken. This answers as many questions as it presents, leaving us at a net-neutral for understanding just what the fuck is going on. Awesome.

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #eugenesis #telefunken #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing

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ageofevermore · 4 years ago

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Who We Are Chapter 10 - Iliad and Odyssey

summery: a hundred years ago earth was destroyed by nuclear warfare. those who could escape did, and those who couldn’t we’re thought to have been burned with the rest of earth. those who escaped primfaya traveled to space, living to tell stories of what earth once was to generations that hoped to see it’s beauty one day. nearly three generations later it’s time. oxygen is running low and life support can’t be fixed. a hundred teenagers are sent to the ground, but is it every really that simple?

Pairings: Olivia Kane x Bellamy Blake

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: hallucinations, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of guns and gun violence, bellivia fluff !

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When Olivia finally managed to pull herself up off the floor, her mind was immediately brought to Bellamy Blake and the fate of his situation. Her mind was working fast to compensate for a reasoning beside what had just occurred, yet the only somewhat bearable explanation Olivia could fathom was that the beans she'd eaten were mutilated with hallucinogenic properties. Earth skills had been very vague when addressing which foods were edible on earth, and Olivia was beginning to despise that irony.

Grabbing the bag of necessities from the floor, Olivia darted up the stairs with itching desperation to confirm that Bellamy was both alive and alright. The very opposite of Micheal Hayes. Olivia's body was visibly trembling as she exited the military base, shoulders barely stable enough to support the lightweight duffle bag of med-kits and blankets. Selfishly, Olivia had already shoved aside three of the softest for her, Octavia and Raven.

Olivia didn't call out for Bellamy in fear of alerting hostile grounders of her presence, so instead she crept through the trees and bushes with hesitation clear across her features. Olivia analyzed hundreds of possibilities within her mind, however she hadn't expected to see Bellamy laid out across a tree, beaten and bloodied with a lifeless body only a few inches from his feet. His chest heaved up and down heavily, his horror etched visibly across his pale complexion.

"Bellamy!" Olivia gasped in pure panic, her feet moving despite the desperate ache to curl up in a ball and just collapse. The world had been against her for so long, she figured it was her time to surrender. Her day had been filled with nothing but soft spoken confrontational battles, and her injures had just been pronounced terminal. "Are you alright, Bell?"

Bellamy broke down into a quiet sob of bleeding pain. The sharp intakes of breath he begged for broke Olivia's heart in two. His pain was so great and yet he put up a facade that could fool them all. She thought she knew Bellamy Blake, and yet she was so wrong. Olivia understood his motives, she could see his perspective, but she knew nothing of the tragedies that made him who he is.

"My mother," Bellamy began with aching breaths that all too closely resembled sobs, "if she knew what I've done, who I am — she raised me to be better, to be good, and all I do is hurt people. I'm a monster." Bellamy's voice trembled as he tried to remain somewhat intact before the completely shattered girl.

Olivia's breath pickup as her mind was brought back to the nightmare she'd been forced to relive just moments ago. Her own actions; attempts to do good and be better, had led her down a path of misery and grey colored grief. She'd lost apart of herself at twelve years old, a part of her that Marcus Kane missed deeply.

"Doing good and being good are two different things, Bell." Olivia whispered, her hands finding his with a desperate need to comfort the both of them simultaneously. "For what it's worth, I didn't know your mother very well, but I saw the way she looked at you, the way she talked about Octavia even. You could be the worst person in the world Bellamy, and as long as you recognized that, she would be proud. It meant you listened to something she said. That's the funny thing about parents, they don't really care about what you do, they only care that you lived and you learned."

Bellamy's hand twitched beneath Olivia's when he realized just how her hands trembled. Her face had lost off its color, her eyes somehow even dimmer then they had been when he left. Bellamy's gut coiled in guilt for not having noticed sooner, his worry immediately drawn to Olivia rather then himself.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy pondered, his voice thick with a blend of emotions that only humanized him more. His eyes were drawn to Olivia's, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on her hand when he felt her body flinch at the question.

"Those nuts, they must have expired. It's a common thing for hallucinogenic properties to secrete from beans and berries; especially on a radiation soaked planet." Olivia rambled shyly, her voice soft as she tried to recoil into herself. Her cheeks flushed at the attention, her hands growing clammy in Bellamy's as tears filled her eyes for the third time that day.

"What did you see?" Bellamy gently brought his hand up to cup Olivia's head, allowing her to melt into his side. He'd never vocalize his needs, but all Bellamy Blake craved was to feel like he was needed, and Olivia gave him that clarity. "Ollie, it's okay." Bellamy panicked when he noticed the way her breath drew in sharply and her eyes squeezed shut. A tear fell down her cheek, burning her skin as it fell.

Olivia's lip trembled, but she figured their was no harm in revealing even more of herself to Bellamy Blake. She had nothing to loose anymore, her will to thrive dwindling as the minutes passed. "Their was a reason why I was accepted into the cadet program nearly three years early, and it wasn't just because of my fathers position on the council."

Bellamy frowned, picking up on the fact that Olivia didn't want to talk about it any more. Olivia squirmed as her eyes landed on the dead body, her hands clenching around Bellamy's as if that would somehow provide her with comfort for not only Dax's death, but Michael's.

"Whenever your ready, you can tell me." Bellamy offered up the advice gently, hating the way his confidence crumbled whilst in the sole presence of Olivia Kane.

The girl had the ability to make even the most guarded person feel as though she could see right through them. Olivia could expose all of Bellamy's weaknesses without hesitation, he's given her enough reason to, and yet time and time again she proved that she wouldn't.

Olivia Kane would be the very reason that the remaining hundred would live long healthy lives on the ground. The hundred wouldn't be happy, but they'd at least have peace. Eventually.

——

Olivia and Bellamy had sat beneath that tree for hours, allowing the dirt to stain their palms and the breeze to wash away their guilt as best it could. The both of them overwhelmed by the memories they'd reencountered. Bellamy gripped multiple bags of guns, Olivia heaving behind him as she carried along her own necessities of med-kits and blankets. Both Bellamy and Olivia had different standards of surviving, yet they weren't opposed to the rightfulness of the other.

Olivia sighed softly as she looked up towards Bellamy, her green eyes clouded dread. Her freckles were a maze in the glistening moonlight, the pure overstimulation of recent events and injuries corrupting her ability to think with a level-head. Despite the facade Bellamy was attempting to rebuild, he bent down, softly squaring his eyes with Olivia's with hopes to connect their unspoken humanity.

"Are you ever going to calm down, Bambi?" Bellamy teased, his words meant to reassure Olivia, and they did just that, her lips twisting upwards into a small smile.

"I like it better when you call me, Ollie." She huffed. Never once had she pictured herself being comforted by Bellamy Blake and his obscene nicknames, though something about the way Bellamy uttered Ollie sounded right. "Humor me for a minute, okay?" She asked, anxiety clear in her tone despite her attempts to try and calm herself. Bellamy noticed this, smiling softly to himself before nodding, giving Olivia confirmation to ask her question.

"Any particular meaning behind Octavia?" Olivia shyly pondered, her fingertips tangling within the fraying edges of the duffles. "The only reason I asked is because my father used to read me a book about a King—"

"—A King named Augustus, and his fierce sister Octavia." Bellamy cut in with a large smile, his eyes shinning beneath the stars that had once bought them both so much misery. "My mom and I would spend our nights reading old stories, mythology mostly, Augustus was always my favorite to learn about."

Olivia frowned softly as she looked down. Despite the warmth that spread in her chest at Bellamy's revelations, her guilt became unbearable as his words struck a chord within her chest. "My dad told me all about how my mother loved Greek Mythology. She had an entire collection of stories, her favorite was the Odyssey."

Bellamy's smile fell into place with a sad smirk, his eyes drifting downwards to the guns in his hands. His mother would be horrified by what he's become, though talking about Aurora with someone other then Octavia was liberating. The darkness had reigned within him for far to long. "My mother's was the Iliad."

Olivia finally mustered up enough courage to show Bellamy the tears streaming down her face, her lip trembling for the umpteenth time that day. "My names the only true thing she ever gave to me." Olivia laughed through tears, her own gratitude for Bellamy's understanding presence immense. "She found it in some stupid baby book, but she though it sounded like Olympus."

"It's beautiful." Bellamy offered a genuine smile, nudging his shoulder against Olivia's before he stood tall, the makeshift walls of the camp not far from sight. "Alright, suck it up, Bambi. We've got delinquents to arm."

Olivia rolled her eyes at Bellamy's heavy handed assertion of dominance. His love for order stemmed from an unruly upbringing, one that still haunted him despite the arrogant smirks and mindless gunfires. Bellamy Blake wasn't half the man he portrayed himself as, rather a man who had been broken one to many times. Olivia enjoyed being one of the few people that knew that, finding it even more heartwarming.

"Let the grounders come!" Bellamy announced arrogantly, laying the guns at his feet. Kids crowded around him, naturally drawn to his authoritative presence, though the added essence of guns only added to their captivation.

Olivia spotted Octavia in the crowd, her lips twitching upwards in relief for the familiar face. Despite Bellamy's comfort, she'd missed the feminine touch of his younger sister, who always seemed to know what to say, especially when it came to the heavy hold of pasts. Slipping away from Bellamy, Olivia attached herself to Octavia's side. A gentle smile pulled at her lips, comfort visibly seeping through Olivia's posture as she relaxed into the familiarity.

"You okay?" Octavia whispered, ignoring her brothers speech about surviving against the grounders. Olivia had always been important to Octavia, though seeing the visible affect the grounds had on her, it was as if she grew even more protective for the younger girl who'd never shown her anything but kindness.

"Those nuts were not my friend." Olivia groaned, her head falling to Octavia's shoulder in pure defeat. The day had gotten the best of her, and shamefully she had let it. "It's my birthday." She added noticing the way Octavia inevitably tensed at the reminder of what had happened to Elliott Greyson seventeen years ago. "Everything's just been so messed up today, O."

Octavia sighed, tightening her hold on Olivia's trembling hand. The skin was clammy and cold, the only true signs of Olivia's rising panic. "Just another day on the ground then isn't it?"

Olivia nodded tightly, her eyes avoiding Bellamy's despite his clear gaze on her. Octavia noticed the tense exchange of deep emotion between the two, frowning up at Bellamy before she looked down at Olivia who was clearly fighting back tears. As if a protective switch had been flipped with her, Octavia wrapped her arms around Olivia before leading her away from the crowd.

Olivia Kane was just a broken girl trying to act like she had everything perfectly put together.

——

Just as Octavia had coaxed a very disoriented Olivia to sleep, Clarke came barreling into the drop ship with worry etched across her features. Her hands were trembling at her side, her face pale as she tried to spot out a specific person in the crowd. Octavia stood from the chair she was once sat in, instead moving to meet Clarke in the middle.

"Have you seen Olivia? I just spoke with Kane and Jaha." Clarke asked, her eyes widening as she realized that for the first time in days, Olivia was peacefully sleeping tucked away into the corner. Despite the many long days the junior cadet had spent on the ground, the only time she got any rest was when consciousness physically failed her. It was beginning to grow worrisome, especially for Clarke who'd bore witness to her obscene patterns of grief beforehand.

"She's pushing herself to hard, Clarke." Octavia breathed out deeply. The Blake girl didn't show her emotions often, especially not to people like Clarke, though her genuine worry for Olivia only intensified with every glance down to her bandaged hands. "She's going to end up dead before the Ark can even come down here if she keeps pushing herself so hard."

Clarke frowned at Octavia's observation. The blonde had been so wrapped up in perpetual boy drama, negligence overcame her thoughts when it came to Olivia and her health concerns. "Has she eaten anything? She looks pale." Clarke noted, looking towards Octavia for a moment before stepping closer to Olivia. Her small body was curled up beneath a multitude of blankets, the heavy heat providing her with a feeling of safety.

"She had some of the nuts, but Clarke I think something happened when she was out with Bellamy. The both of them aren't acting right." Octavia muttered feeling less then heard as she stood beside Clarke, wincing when the stubborn blonde pressed the back of her hand to Olivia's forehead. The last thing either girl wanted was to wake Olivia before her body was ready.

"Bellamy just got pardoned for his crimes. He said Olivia talked him into facing Jaha, something about the Iliad, I don't really know what he was saying. Between the guns and the pounding headache I have, everything's a bit fuzzy." The blonde was never one to complain about her own health, but she was too busy fussing over Olivia to notice the words falling from her own mouth, or small smile that overcame Octavia's features. It was something as little as a book title, however it meant so much more to the Blake's, especially Bellamy who carried the words against his heart with everything he did.

"She's a little warm, it's probably just from the blankets though, god knows she never used to be able to have enough. We'd have sleepovers and my mom would worry about her suffocating beneath the duvet's." Clarke's frown broke into a small smile at the memory, though her reminiscing didn't last much longer then a few mere seconds. "Do me a favor, keep an eye on her? I don't want her in here alone."

Octavia nodded, hardly bothered by the task of watching over her friend. They'd grown distant since their time on the ground, an empty ache filling Octavia's stomach with guilt. Olivia Kane had always been gentle as a summer breeze, though the ground was nothing but a brutal midnight hurricane. She put up a strong fight to maintain her peaceful mantra, though it was easy to see surrender was creeping up beside her.

#bellamy blake #who we are #olivia kane #raven reyes #octavia blake #finn collins #clarke griffin #the 100 #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x olivia kane

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iminyourhandskara · 6 years ago

Text

Battles Lost and Won - Karamel One Shot

A rewrite of the season 3 finale.

in this version, winn didn't leave for the 31st century and brainy goes with the legion, it is not brainiac the legion is fighting in the future. enjoy!

________________

“Well you did it. Just like a Greek myth. You went down to the underworld and slayed the three-headed monster and saved Persephone.” Mon-El approached Kara on the DEO balcony, somewhere they’ve found each other pretty often in the last few months, somewhere they shared a lot of advices and conversations only they could have. Kara smiled looking down before correcting Mon-El’s still flattering comment, “Uh, I think in the myth Persephone eats pomegranate seeds and is confined to the realm of Hades forever.”

“Yeah well that just strengthens my point because the Greek Gods have nothing on you.” He continued without missing a beat, overwhelming Kara for a second. “It was far from perfect, for many reasons but..I couldn’t have done it without you.“ He had been the partner she had always dreamed of, ever since he landed on Earth and she took him under her wing. They could understand each other so well and predict each other’s moves with a look: but that ability didn’t come from their trainings or fights together on the battlefield. Quite the opposite. “No, that’s not true. This victory was yours. And it was flawless.” Mon-El had always been so sincere when it came to complimenting Kara, she recognized his honesty by simply looking at his eyes, she swore she could still see the shadow of the boy from Daxam she loved over a year ago.

“What’s on your mind?” “Before we went to Argo, I just had this thought that I could be Kara Zor-El, ordinary citizen..I would feel like I was home. But when we were fighting Reign and the witches, I had this moment, this realization that Argo City is not my home anymore. National City is. Earth is. And my mission is to protect it. My whole life is here.” She took a breath, “Messy. Complex. Balancing Kara and being a hero, that’s…that’s who I am.” Was she satisfied with this realization, though? Was Kara actually happy to give up that girl from Krypton, because Earth had welcomed her? Because she felt like she owed something to this planet? There was no denying that she had no other choice than to be only Kara Danvers, how could she be Kara Zor-El without…

“I have loved fighting by your side. Being there through all of it, the ups and down, the particularly tough days.” Mon-El interrupted her with a broken voice, his eyes were visibly covered in tears; whatever was coming, Mon-El didn’t want to say it, and most importantly, Kara didn’t want to hear it. “You know for a moment there, I thought that maybe this was my place. My time.”

“It is. It is.” An echo haunted both of their minds, it just couldn’t reach their lips. “But I learned some troubling things today about the future.” And finally..the dreaded words, came with a tremble in his voice. “I need to go back.“

His heart shut off, he shut out everything that anchored him to National City, giving voice only to Mon-El the Legionnaire, the Leader. “I can’t abandon the Legion or the world that I swore to protect right when they need me most.” ’Duty over happiness. Duty over love. Earth comes first. I don’t want to go. But I have to go.’

“I know you can’t. You wouldn’t be the man you are if you did, the man I admire so much.” ‘Don’t go. Don’t go. Please. I made that mistake a year ago. Don’t go. We can make it work. Don’t go.’ Looking at Mon-El and hearing what he had to say, Kara relived the day she hated the most. It was like he was repeating the same things she thought to convince herself that back then, sending him away was the right choice.

“Well I guess we both have some saving to do.” ‘There’s nothing we can do. We tried. We belong to different worlds.’ A bitter chuckle escaped his mouth, when all he wanted to do was scream. His feet started to walk away from Kara and Mon-El realized that this really was the end of their story, until he stopped in his tracks and removed his Legion Ring from his finger: “Hey. It’s about time you had one of your own”

He had her necklace, she had his ring. “Thanks.” Tears were forming in Kara’s eyes, inevitably, she almost wanted to yell at him to go away and make things easier: she didn’t want him to know how much it hurt to say goodbye once again, she didn’t want Mon-El to feel guilty of her pain, she didn’t want him to see her being so vulnerable.

“In case you ever need me.” He said so softly, like it was a dying breath, like it was his last caress on her cheek and just like that..he left. Mon-El said goodbye to the world he wished he could call his home, but just couldn’t; Mon-El simply was a piece of a game that was way bigger than him.

In the meantime, Kara cried on the balcony. The city below her feet was so loud, while she had been so quiet. Those words she couldn’t say before filled her stomach like a weight that hurt too much. Why was she back at the same point? Why couldn’t she let her thoughts come out? Why did she let Mon-El go again? Why? Why?

Kara’s elbows rested on the balcony, her hands were covering her face, her sobs barely audible when she felt a touch on her shoulder. “Kara.” “Imra?” She was definitely the person she least expected to see in that moment. “I know it’s a difficult moment, but I wrote this..you need to read it. You deserve to know all the truth.”

The Kryptonian dried her cheeks quickly, confused by whatever she meant, but thankful. “Thank you, Imra.” “You’re welcome.” She smiled before turning away, not wanting to make this more painful than it already was for Kara. “One thing..” “Yes?” “Keep an eye on him for me.” Imra nodded sadly, but determined to keep her word, she knew that the bond they shared was something she couldn’t even comprehend.

"Mom? I know you have to go back to Argo City but... can you please stay one more night? I would like to show you where I live and..I really need my mom right now.” Kara smiled at Alura, but the woman could easily see that something was broken inside of her daughter’s eyes: it didn’t take long for her to figure out what the problem was. “Of course, my dear.” The mother pulled Kara in her arms for a hug; she caressed her blond locks just like she did when she had nightmares as a child, Kara’s head rested on her shoulder as she breathed shakily. “It’s okay,” Alura consoled her, “I’m here, it’s alright.”

Kara opened the door of her apartment, “And this..is where I live. Kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom’s on the left.” She pointed at each room. “It looks cozy in here! What do you usually do on nights like these?” “Nights like what?” “After such a big victory.” Kara laughed as she placed her purse on a chair and her glasses on the table, “I don’t really have..a tradition.” “You should have.” “I’ve only been doing this superheroing thing for a few years, I’ve had a couple of victories like this but..I never had the chance to celebrate.” The grin from her face had disappeared, after realizing that she never felt truly satisfied about those battles she had won: she always had a parallel battle lost. Alura’s voice shifted, she knew that her daughter was thinking about something heaving on her heart, “Come sit here.”

Kara chewed on her lower lip, “I was just thinking..when we beat Non and Indigo we were celebrating, until a pod crashed..and it was Mon-El’s.” “I guess it’s time to bring up that talk we mentioned back then on Argo, what do you think?” She inhaled deeply, “Then last year, we beat the Daxamites but I was more devastated than happy; we used a lead diffuser to have them retreat and I had to send Mon-El away. For months I believed I had killed him. Then it turned out, he actually hit a disruption that sent him to the 31st century and that’s where he spent seven years.. until we found his ship.” “That’s a lot to take in..” “And the worst part of it all, was that for just for one second I thought we could pick things up from where we had left them but.. he got married. Imra is his wife.” Kara had gotten so used to that word, to that phrase she pronounced many times, but it still hurt enough to make her close her eyes. “And are they still together?” “I guess, why do you ask?” “I saw them talking on the DEO balcony before, I saw them hugging but it didn’t seem like a..married couple hug.” “Mom, I appreciate you wanting to make the pill easier to swallow, but—wait. I just remembered that Imra gave me a letter to read.” “Really? What did she say?” “Not much, only that ‘I deserved to know the whole truth’, whatever that means.” “What are you waiting for? Open it!” Kara stood up and walked to take the letter in her purse, “What if I don’t want to read this? What if there’s something that hurts me written inside of this letter?” Her heart started pounding, she couldn’t bear more pain. “Then I’ll be with you, by your side.” Alura had a point, no matter what was written in that letter, Kara didn’t have to go through hurt by herself. She was going to be okay. Taking one more deep breath, she noticed a few crossed words and scribbles, she started reading out loud sitting near her mom: “Dear Kara, I’m writing this in a rush and I know we didn’t really have the opportunity to talk one on one while I was in National City and we often fought over our plans on how to defeat the Worldkillers, but I want to tell you all the things I couldn’t say or..didn’t want to say before. Just know that your example has truly shaped all of the Legionnaires into the heroes we are now, and I’m sorry if I lost sight of what we stand for when my family came in between. And finally..you probably hate the mention of the seven years Mon-El has spent in the 31st century but please, keep reading. You think you know the truth, but you only know the shell of it: when the Blight killed my sister, my parents took all their rage and fury on humans, planning on destroying Earth. This happened not long after I met Mon-El, right when the Legion was founded; we were team mates and friends, he was still suffering and mourning you, not knowing what he had to do to honor you or what you would have done in his place. We had to unite Earth and Titan to find peace, before it was too late. My father decided we had to get married. Mon-El was not in love with me, I wasn’t in love with him, but those were the rules if we didn’t want another war breaking out. Over time, my feelings became more real, and also his: that is, at least, what he wanted to think; we got used to each other but we were never truly in love. Not like you two were. For all those years I’ve seen him fidgeting with his necklace whenever he was depressed, conflicted, in a dark place. His necklace was his only anchor, it gave Mon-El hope in the most difficult times and I suspect you have something to do with it: he never told us anything about it, he’s really possessive of it. Him and I aren’t together anymore, his love for you never faded away, it’s clear to see. He still loves you with all his heart. I’m so sorry new missions got in the way and Mon-El needed to go back. I truly wanted him to stay with you: he’s different, he is happier, he seems healthier when he’s around your team at the DEO. The 31st century deteriorated him, but I promise you we will not let anything bad happen to him. Imra.”

The tears were now flowing down Kara’s cheeks, she didn’t even have the strength to say a word; she was petrified by all the words she had just read, the whole truth had overwhelmed her. Alura was just as shocked, but kept holding her daughter close. It surely wasn’t an easy bite to swallow. “Mom..I thought he moved on.” Kara managed to say through sobs, “Do you know how many times I told myself to move on and be happy because that’s what he did? How many times I had to pretend to be okay in front of them and repeat to myself that there was nothing to do?” Kara didn’t know if she had to be mad at herself, at Imra, at Mon-El, at Rao, at the whole universe that kept bringing them back together just to tear them apart again: she felt every single emotion flowing through her veins, yet she had never felt that weak. Then all at once, the realization: he had never stopped loving her. Kara had been afraid that all the words he had told her in Argo City, in that dream like garden, were just a product of an infatuation based on memories; she believed that was just a spur of the moment thing and he would’ve gone back to his wife, but now, she knew that she had fooled herself. “It’s too late now..I wasted too much time focusing on defeating Reign that I forgot to talk to Mon-El..about us. I should’ve told him to stay, mom..he would’ve stayed.” She threw that piece of paper on the floor. ”Before he left.. I- I gave him your necklace. Do you remember what you told me before sending me away from Krypton?” ”That the necklace would’ve kept you safe and I would’ve been with you in your dreams.” Her eyes closed once again, nodding, devastated. ”Mom, I loved him.” ”I know, Kara..” The brokenness in her voice had become prominent, her pauses were replaced by sobs and there was nothing Alura could’ve said that would’ve made that pain easier to handle.

The next morning, Kara hadn’t really woken up, since she hadn’t slept at all, but her alarm clock momentarily interrupted the tornado of thoughts that haunted her: it was the same cycle starting all over again. Loving someone always ended up with leaving. The regret covered all her face, Kara hadn’t let Mon-El stay. That was the thing she needed the most in that moment: someone who would stay. “I can’t leave you like this.” Alura said worryingly, she knew she had responsibilities on Argo City as part of the Council, but family came first. “No, no, you have to go. You have a city to take care of. I’ll be fine.” “Kara, please stop this.” “Stop what?” “Pretending you’re fine.” She paused, “I didn’t say I’m fine. I said I will be.” “Then let me stay until you are.” “I can’t let you stay here knowing that there’s a planet waiting for one of its leaders.” “Is this Supergirl talking? Or Kara, my Kara Zor-El?” Kara shook her head, not seeing the point in her mother’s question. “What do you mean?” “For a second, stop worrying so much about responsibility and work, stop worrying about what’s morally correct, stop caring about other people. Stop being Supergirl. For a second, be only Kara; now tell me, would you want me to stay? Until I know you’re alright?” That question opened a hole in Kara’s heart, she definitely didn’t expect such a thing: she had stopped seeing herself as “Only Kara” in the moment she put on that red cape, she had never allowed herself to see things from that perspective. Kara remembered what Cat Grant once told her, when she wanted to rescue Mon-El and Lena without hitting the Daxamite ship, “Wanting to rescue them is not selfish, it’s everything.” Feeling love, sadness, anger or wanting someone by her side wasn’t selfish, it wasn’t a favor she was doing for herself, it was everything. This was what being human was all about, it wasn’t about having a normal job and a normal life. “Yes.” With a weak voice, Kara finally replied truthfully.

It had been a week since Alura decided to stay, but since Kara was comfortable again in her daily routine, they both decided it was time to separate. “Let’s not make this more emotional than what it already is, okay? Winn is already working on a new spaceship with J’onn, but until then we have the portal.” Kara smiled, “Thank you for everything, mom.” “I love you.” “I love you, too.” They hugged each other for long seconds, before waving goodbye: Alura smiled back at her daughter and her team, which was also a second family she had loved to meet.

Obviously much time had gotten lost, but they knew now there was so much to spend ahead of the two of them, Kara had been so grateful to receive a second chance with her mom; she wished she could’ve said the same thing about Mon-El. Their second chance passed them by without realizing, one was wondering what the other was thinking, assuming they didn’t love each other anymore and their time was over. The loft was incredibly silent in that evening, a deafening silence she only noticed in the first months Mon-El was gone but then went away with time and help by her friends, whether it was a game or a movie night.

But again, Kara decided to not host those nights for a while, having to get used to loneliness once more: as she was sipping her coffee after dinner watching television, a knock interrupted the quietness; apparently, her friends were too stubborn and wanted to organize a surprise game night, or so she thought, until..she opened the door. “Hi.” Kara almost closed the door again, thinking it was a mirage, a bad prank her brain was pulling on her, but no. It was real, he was real. Mon-El was standing in front of her and she was doing absolutely nothing. except for breathing heavily. She couldn’t even get a word out, so she decided to pull him into her arms and let that do the talking. “How- how are you here?” His hands, just like hers, kept caressing her hair onto her back. “It might have been eight years, but I would never forget where your apartment is.” Mon-El smiled gleefully. “I meant here, in National City, in the 21st century.” “Oh, that! Well..Brainy dropped me here.” They finally walked into the apartment and closed the door, “Wow.” Mon-El hadn’t been in that place in eight years and he was overwhelmed, Kara smiled tearfully at that,“Come sit here.” A strange feeling of déjà-vu crossed both of them, “Tell me what happened.” “I- I don’t even know exactly what happened. All I know was that once we arrived in the future, things were different than what Brainy had told.” “But he’s never wrong, I mean, mathematically speaking at least.” “Yeah, I thought so too. But he said that the past changed because of a disruption, therefore the future had changed too. The enemy we were supposed to defeat had already been dead for centuries, because someone we both know had killed him.” “Wait, who?” “Technically, I’m not supposed to say it because it could change the future, but he has your same glyph but doesn’t wear a skirt.” Kara and Mon-El laughed like they hadn’t in months, both still not believing that they were on that couch together again. A little hesitantly, Kara asked Mon-El: “What made you..come back? I thought you said that this wasn’t your place.” Mon-El knew that that question was coming, he knew he was going to sound like a hypocrite: “In the moment I stepped back there, I realized that I didn’t belong to that place anymore. The Legion was the only thing that kept me there,but I had taught them all I had to teach. I used to call it my home because I thought that was the reality I was destined to live in. It was time to be a little selfish again, for once. Imra is the leader now, I’m not needed anymore in the 31st century. So, that’s why I’m back.” ‘It’s you, I’m here for you.’ was what he truly meant. Kara looked at Mon-El silently for a few seconds: “I..I hit that disruption.” “What?” His eyes went wide, “How?” “I used your legion ring. In the previous version of the timeline, I didn’t handle things well with Reign. I managed to kill her but..she killed my mom and..” “And?” Mon-El’s hand was absentmindedly stroking hers on her knee, something he once did every time he was worried about Kara. “And she hit J’onn too, but you pushed him out of her way. She killed you, too.” Her hand was now on top of his, her gaze lowered. Mon-El grabbed her chin, making Kara look at him. “But you’re here now.” “Now I am.” Both had learned an important lesson about time, and that was it wasn’t supposed to be wasted: his hand dropped from her chin, kissing her softly like the first time, but hunger and passion accompanied his sweetness. Kara leaned naturally into Mon-El’s hands, they were moving in a perfect synch. It was like a lifetime had passed since they last lay on that couch and their lips and tongues met, but not for their bodies that knew one another so well; their touches sent electric shocks down their spines, they could feel these wonderful sensations only when they were together. For so long they believed they couldn’t feel that way ever again, but despite all the odds, Mon-El was now carrying Kara to her bed and giggling between the kisses, high on love. That was definitely going to be the happiest night they’ve had in years. It had become so easy for them to give up on romance as superheroes, to be pessimistic and believe that the worst was yet to come; after all they had been through, thinking that happy endings weren’t meant for Supergirl and Valor had become the safest option. At the end they could see that even if it sounded like a cliché, love could find a way, love did find a way.

_________________

thank you for reading, i hope you guys liked this! i promised myself and all of you that i would've wrote something based on the finale in the moment i watched it, and two months later i finally did it! i apologise for mistakes or repetitions, let me know what you guys think in my inbox and in your reblogs❤️❤️

#karamel #karamel one shot #karamel one shots #karamel au #sorta #karamel ff #karamel fanfic #karamel fanfiction #karamel fanfictions #karamel fanfics #kara x mon-el #kara x mon el #melissa benoist #chris wood #karamel ffs #iminyourhandskara

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writerly-blonde · 7 years ago

Text

Star-gazing

Hey guys, I’m shaking it up a little this time with a Voltron fic! Team bonding, not really shippy, and set before the fever dream that was season three. I don’t see enough fics of the team simply existing so here you go!

Summary: Each of the paladins reflect back on their love for the stars and begin to feel a little less alone in a foreign galaxy.

WC: 3217

Find it on AO3!

Enjoy! ~~~

There are stories in the stars. That has always been one of the constant truths in Lance’s life. Sundays are cleaning days, his niece squeals when she’s tickled, the sun rises in the East, and the stars hold stories.

The constants in his life…gone.

Lance sinks against the navigation console, and stares up at a sunless sky he doesn’t recognize.

“Mijo?” Aleja Mcclain’s voice called out, the screen door sliding closed behind her. Lance tilted his head back from his spot on the grass to watch the upside version of his mom walk towards him. “It’s late.”

Lance returned his gaze to the stars. “Can I stay out here a bit longer?”

She chuckled and settled herself next to him. “It’s a nice night so, why not?” He beamed and she offered him a steaming mug. “Hot cocoa?”

Lance shifted so he was sitting up and nodded, taking it with a grateful smile. The warmth of the drink seeped through his palms. His mom cast a look up. Sighed contentedly.

“I’ve always loved the night sky. All the stories.”

At this, Lance had paused.

She slanted him a look and smiled, pointing at the stars. “Look. Those five stars? Cassiopeia sitting on her throne. To appease Poseidon’s monster, she and her husband sacrificed their daughter and chained her to a rock.”

He was horrified, to say the least.

His mom only gave a soft laugh. “Greeks,” she said like that explained everything. Her hand shifted as she pointed to another cluster of stars. “But look mijo, there’s Andromeda, alive and well after Perseus saved her from the monster.”

His horror faded slowly to fascination as his mom gestured from star to star, mapping the sky in her stories.

“Lance?”

He jerks, scrambling to his feet. Hunk stares at him from the doorway. Curiosity melts into confusion which turned to understanding. His eyes flick from the windows, from the endless sky, and back to Lance, who shoots him an awkward smile.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Like he wasn’t just lost in homesickness.

“I can’t sleep so I thought I would see if anyone else was up and the navigation room is sometimes where everyone goes so I figured I’d check here.”

Lance only has to sort of fake his laugh. “Yeah, of course. I’m not sure if this is the most comfortable place though.” He gestures at the console. His back does ache a bit from the awkward angle he was sitting but…he got a better view sitting on the ground than he did on the chair.

Hunk shrugs, his smile warm. “It’s fine.” He crosses the room and sits down. Lance follows his lead after a moment, the tension in his body lessening the tiniest bit. Hunk glances at him. “So what were you looking at?”

“Just the stars.”

Hunk follows his gaze. Pauses. Stars dot the sky, swirling and shining through bright galaxies and the dark night. It’s breathtaking. Hunk smiles. He nudges Lance.

“I wish my mom could see this,” he says, not taking his eyes off the sky, “She would sit here and paint for hours.”

Lance gives him a look filled with curiosity and slight teasing. “I thought that she’s an engineer?”

“She is.”

Sefina Garett peered up at the sky her son loved with all his heart and raised a brush. Hunk crouched a couple feet away, up to his elbows in his motorcycle. The waves crashed on the beach far behind them. Above their light chatter, the ocean breeze whispered.

“How was school?”

“The usual,” Hunk said with a laugh that quickly faded as something in his bike gave a loud clank.

His mom glanced over her shoulder. Dark, intelligent eyes assessing the damage. “Brakes?”

Hunk shrugged and checked. Sure enough, there was a broken link deep within. “Yup, that was it.” As he set about fixing it, Hunk cast a look at his mom. “Man, this just keeps brake-ing.”

There was a beat of silence, and then a long suffering sigh. “For Pete’s brake Hunk.”

“Can’t put the brakes on these jokes.”

His mom laughed, her brush moving as fast as her puns. And just like several nights before it, they spent the hours working and keeping each other company.

Hunk leans back against the console. “She painted the most beautiful nights.”

Lance crosses his legs under him. “Did she paint the canvas hanging above your head? At the Garrison?”

Hunk laughs then, loud and contagious. “The one you convinced me to sneak in? Yeah.”

A knock on the wall behind them has them both nearly jumping out of their skins. They glance at each other before peering around the console. Pidge stands at the door, already walking in, lips curled in a held back laugh at how ridiculous Hunk and Lance look, only their heads visible from the edges of the console.

Hunk is the first to recover. “It’s late, what’re you doing up?”

“You guys talk loud.” She plops down between Hunk and Lance. “And I don’t sleep much.”

Lance laughs. “Join the club.”

Pidge leans forward, pushing up her glasses before resting her elbows on her knees. “Is this a stargazing slumber party?”

Hunk shrugs. “Pretty much.”

“Team bonding,” Lance says. He peers at the two of them before grinning. “The Garrison flight team, back together.”

Pidge groans, but her lips curl up. “I’m forced to join this team bonding, aren’t I?”

“Yup! You rejected all of our other attempts.”

At this, Hunk snorts. “Our attempts? More like you dragging me along to whatever scheme you had planned.”

Lance splutters. He can’t really argue with that. So instead, he shoots back, “Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun!”

“I couldn’t tell over the multiple heart attacks you gave me.”

Their laughs echo through the large room before it fades to silence. Silence that allowed the three of them to simply gaze up and stare. Silence that reduced their conversations to nudging each other at the sight of a twinkling star, or wondering at a foreign planet, or simply pointing out that galaxy right up there on the left.

Silence that was eventually only broken by Pidge tapping them and pointing at a far star, blurting out quick bursts of fact. How that one got its glow. How to really tell a yellow sun from a red sun.

“A yellow dwarf sun is a G-type, while a red dwarf is a K or M type.” Matthew Holt said, leaning away from the telescope to let his daughter peer into it. They were originally trying to find Mars and Saturn but had unsurprisingly gotten off topic.

Katie looked through the telescope. Bundles of stars danced before her as she scribbled down notes. Keeping track of the telescope position and their conversation. “Our sun is a yellow dwarf right?”

She didn’t have to see her father’s face to know that he was beaming. “Correct!” She heard him shift and after a moment, “You take after me with note-taking.”

Katie laughed. “Completely unreadable except to us?”

“Unfortunately so.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her away from the telescope to check it for himself. She stepped away, not at all bothered considering she’s done the same thing to him far more times than she can count.

As he adjusted the telescope, she moved back to her journal. Little columns of notes decorated the sides of her paper, describing everything and nothing. An entire notebook filled with facts she’s learned from both books and from nights like these with her dad.

Katie paused mid-note. “I’m going to miss you.”

He pulled away from the telescope to pull her into a hug. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

She swallowed hard. Tried to keep the tears at bay as she attempted to laugh. “You’re taking Matt with you, you can take your time.”

Her dad held her tighter, calling her out on her lie. “We’ll miss you too Kit-kat.”

“You better bring me back space dust.”

He let her go and gestured to her notes. “Only if you can tell me what compounds make up the moon.”

Katie gave a watery smile and nodded.

“Was the red sun the one from Krypton?” Lance asks, ignoring how Pidge jumps a little.

She pushes up her glasses and wipe at her eyes, voice unsteady. “Uh yeah…yeah, I think it was actually.”

Hunk sees the tears gathering under her eyes and scoots a little closer. He doesn’t say anything, but Pidge still relaxes as if he had hugged her. She gives him a grateful look and takes a stuttering breath.

Lance scoots closer as well and wraps a hand over Pidge’s. “You okay?”

She nods. Leans her head on Hunk’s shoulder while gripping Lance’s like a lifeline. Secure as a hug. It’s been a long time since she’s felt steady. Since she was able to breathe without her family and see the one she’s accidentally made here.

Footsteps from the corridor has all of them freezing. Hunk and Pidge hold back their laughter as Lance gives a long, dramatic sigh.

“Whoever it is,” he yells, “We’re in here and you’re welcome to join us!”

“Uhh…” Keith’s voice echoes back, “Alright.”

By the time he joins them, Pidge feels a little steadier. Keith’s gaze sweeps over them all before he settles himself next to Lance. Next to the spot that still has a little bit of console to lean against.

Hunk chuckles. “If anyone else is going to join us, they missed out on the comfortable spots.”

Laughter rolls through the line of them, half agreeing, half noticing that they aren’t really comfortable leaning up against the awkwardly curved metal. But still, it offers a nice view of the sky and allows them to stretch their legs so it’s good enough.

Pidge leans forward, catching Keith’s gaze. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Not really,” comes the reply, “I typically go to the training deck but-”

“But you heard our awesome conversation and investigated?” Lance says.

“Basically.” Keith’s lips quirk up. “So what are you guys doing here?”

Hunk gestures at the huge windows that take up most of what they see. “Enjoying the view.”

“Sounds nice.” It’s been awhile since Keith truly star-gazed and he’s been meaning to but…things kept getting in the way. So now he scoots forward, away from the group just to be that tiny bit closer to the stars that lazily swirl above them.

“Communication’s down!” Tess announced, flouncing back in her seat.

To Keith’s side, Jason sighed. “Show time everyone. We’re on the clock and I want to get a headstart.” He moved to unbuckle himself. “Keith, please make our landing soft, I don’t feel like getting a concussio-”

Keith’s arm shot out to pause Jason in his tracks. “Or…we continue with the plan.”

The silence that descended over the cabin was oppressive. Jason’s stare burned holes into Keith’s head. “Are you crazy? Section 9 dictates that once communications go down we need to land and get it back online.”

“For what?” Keith was already placing his hands back on the handles. “For them to tell us that we still need to get the parcel?”

“To restore communica-”

“That’ll just add precious minutes to our final time.”

Keith didn’t have to hide his smile as Jason reluctantly buckled himself back in. He cast a glance back at Tess to make sure that she’s secure before taking off once more. Away from the digital planet they were supposed to land on.

Every simulation was more or less the same. Double check every single move with the Garrison. But still get a good time. Keith shook his head, setting his course on the pick up mission. A parcel in which they already know all the details to.

He ignored Jason’s warning and sped off. Towards success, his way, not theirs. He would deal with his officer’s reprimands and grudging respect later. He’d focus on Shiro’s disapproving stare when the time came.

For now, he flew. Letting the thrill of it run through his veins in a way he would never tire of. Towards the stars that he longed for so long to reach, enjoying how they turn to brightly colored streaks that he flew past them.

“What time do you think it is?”

Keith blinks. For the briefest second, he wants nothing more than to get into the Red Lion and take off into the night. Another second, and the feeling passes. He scoots back to the console, watching as Lance considers the question.

The answer he rattles off goes over everyone’s head at first before they convert it.

“It’s freaky how quickly you caught onto Altean time,” Pidge teases.

Lance grins, puffing himself up. “What can I say? I’m pretty and smart.”

The groan that stretches across them only makes his grin grow. He gives a laugh and collapses back against the console, bravado faded back to a level seen only at his calmest moments.

Hunk peers over at the doorway. “Do you guys think we should go get Shiro?”

Pidge fiddles with her glasses, eyebrows knit. “No. He’s probably asleep.”

“Not really,” Keith says, “He sleeps about as much as us.”

The reason why hangs above their heads. A storm cloud no one knows how to address. So they don’t. Instead, Lance gestures dramatically. “Going by how this night is going, Shiro will be here any second now.”

Keith glances at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Watch, he’ll show up.”

“Shiro never comes here at night, he never even leaves his room.”

“I’m right. In fact,” Lance readjusts himself, crossing his legs under him and holding up three fingers. . “He’ll be here in three….”

Pidge stares at him. “It’s nearly statistically impossible for-”

“Two…”

Hunk shrugs. “Just let him have his moment. He’ll learn from it when-”

“One!”

“-Shiro doesn’t show up.”

A new voice joins the fray. “Guys…why aren’t you all asleep?”

There’s silence for the span of a single heartbeat before the three of them suck in a breath and unleash the sounds of victory, disbelief, and incredulity, in that order. It’s difficult to say who screams first. Though, it’s a good bet that it’s Lance.

“I KNEW IT!”

“WHAT? HOW?”

“OH MY GOD LANCE!”

The wall of sheer volume slams into Shiro and in the several seconds it takes for them to calm down, he stands there. Staring. When they finally run out of breath, he blinks. Once. Twice.

“Guys…” What the fuck?

Shiro doesn’t need to say it for everyone to hear it. Out of everyone, Keith is the first to crack. He gives a spluttering laugh that quickly morphs into a whole one that spreads across the line.

Through giggles, Lance notices that Shiro hasn’t moved. He waves him over and watches as Shiro takes a tentative step, as if wondering if they were going to start screaming again. “We were just wondering when you’d show up. Want to stargaze with us?”

Shiro nods. As he crosses the room and sits next to Hunk, he says, “Looks like I’m late to the party.”

Hunk shakes his head. “We’ve all been trickling in.”

Shiro nods again. He sits ramrod straight, posture sure and instinctual, as he gazes up at the stars. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who still loves them.”

Pidge chuckles, the sound nothing more than a simple exhale of breath. “I’ve loved them since I was a kid. I don’t think I’ll get over it.”

Keith catches her eye, smiling. “Me too. I used to want nothing more than to reach them.”

“And now?”

He shrugs, the grin resembling more of a smirk. “I can’t get enough.”

There’s a beat of silence before Hunk chimes in. “When I see them, I see swirled paint and calm ocean nights. It’s hard not to love them.”

Lance leans forward. “What about you Shiro?”

A little boy quietly shoved his window up, glancing back to check that he didn’t wake anyone up. No one stirred. With a book tucked under his arm, and a flashlight in the other, Shiro pushed himself up onto the windowsill.

He climbed up onto the roof, movements sure from experience. Crept a little farther up so that the entire sky stretched above him. With stars that looked so close you could almost touch them and stars that looked so far away that his mind swam with possibilities of what could be out there.

With eyes reflecting the night sky, Shiro opened his book on his lap and clicked on the flashlight. Constellations spread out across the pages, scientific reasonings, and explanations for the universe he knew he was going to see one day.

Shiro peered up at the stars. Compared it to his book. Constellations and positions of them, the names of the stars, everything. He sat there for hours, too enthralled to even care that he wasn’t comfortable.

And when he finally felt his eyes grow heavy, he reluctantly went back inside. Crawled underneath his blankets and fell asleep with the last thing he saw being the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets stuck to his ceiling.

The Shiro in the here and now simply smiles. “I’ve loved them for as long as I can remember.”

The five of them share a smile at their shared past. Until, Lance’s fades. He looks down, swallowing hard.

“Does it…does it bother anyone else that it’s the wrong sky?”

Lance’s words settle over them, bringing back the storm clouds. Pidge is the first to react. She looks up at the sky with a large, sad gaze that says everything they’re all feeling. “I didn’t want to be the first to say it.” She sighs. “I can’t recognize any of it.”

One by one, Hunk, Keith, and Shiro murmur their agreements. A shared love for the stars, the universe brought them here. But what they’ve spent so long staring at, dreaming of, is gone. The stars they knew, the planets they were so used to orbiting their Earth, are so far away it seems like they’re gone for good.

Lance sniffs. “I used to be able to name every constellation in the sky. I could tell you their stories. But now…”

“Lance…” Keith starts, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Whatever he was about to say next is interrupted by Hunk’s gasp. “Hang on!” He jolts up so he can see everyone. “Why don’t we make our own?”

Pidge catches on before everyone else. A slow smile tugs at her lips. “This sky is completely foreign. Who says we can’t?”

“I’m with Hunk and Pidge,” Shiro says, “Let’s make our own constellations.”

And that’s how it starts. The five of them peering up at the stars that are so far from the ones they grew up but aren’t any less their own. Fingers trace out invisible patterns in the galaxies, the planets.

A young boy sitting and a woman pointing at the sky.

A woman painting.

A girl peering into a telescope.

A young pilot flying his ship.

A little boy on a rooftop with a book and flashlight.

In a sky none of them recognized, they mapped out the stars with their own constellations. Because in any sky, anywhere, there are are stories in the stars.

#voltron #my writing #team fic #lance mcclain #shiro takashi #keith kogane #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett #Heather's drabbles

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3ndoftheline · 8 years ago

Text

Savior

Bucky x OFC

Summary: All people want are some answers.

Warnings: language (obviously lololol)

Author’s Note: guess who’s back and as mediocre as ever!!!!!! it’s your average fic writer with a new installment of the sophia and bucky show! this leaves off with a tiny bit of a cliffhanger? idk i don’t think it’s that terrible but then again i know what happens next so…but! as per usual, feedback is encouraged and welcome, so please come say hi!

Sophia vs. Rainbows

Fourteenth Floor, Avengers Facility: Upstate New York

My room was huge.

I knew it was when I walked in, but then once I finished ‘decorating’ my room, I got bored and restless and thus decided to explore the rest of my room, mansion, whatever it was.

The one hallway led to a living room with a leather couch, glass coffee table and flat screen TV that collapsed into the wall if I wasn’t using it. The other hallway was a workout area with all of the state of the art equipment which I quickly got rid of because I did not workout. That was like asking a lion to take a swim. Not going to happen. It was just a blank space for now but I knew I’d find a use for it soon enough.

And the bathroom? It was like the size of a Roman bath but all sleek and modern. It was like the Roman civilization met Back to the Future.

I sat on my bed as my room was again transformed into a forest. I felt calm as I listened to the stream that gurgled around the edges of my room. The sun had begun to peek over the tree line, turning the room into a husky gray haze. As the sunlight hit the bubbling water, the mist produced from the water hitting the rocks was enough for a small rainbow to form.

I watched as the light flickered from red to blue in the mist as my thoughts were drawn back to the documents Tony had shown on the north wall.

The symbols that were shown in the documents talked of experiments and research in an unknown subject that wasn’t of this Earth; if the symbols meant what they did. My stomach churned at what other experiments Hydra was conducting and who was next on their hit list as they struggled to find the perfect candidate.

I didn’t like that Hydra was suddenly able to write in such an ancient form of Greek, especially being able to translate a language into an indecipherable script. I could think of a few people and creatures that had the ability to do such a thing, and the few that came to mind made my skin crawl.

With anxiety gnawing at my stomach, I released a heavy sigh and stepped towards the rainbow that flickered in the mist. From my pocket I produced a drachma – a silver coin with the head of Athena on one side and an owl on the other. I rubbed my thumb over the head of Athena and then stepped closer to the rainbow.

“Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow and Messages and…uh–”

“The sea and sky,” a nasally voice interrupted me as the rainbow swelled.

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Obviously. Yeah, sea and sky. Could you–”

“What else?”

I paused. “What do you mean? Isn’t that it?”

“Isn’t…is that it?” The voice all but screeched. “I am so sick and tired of all you heroes and gods and goddesses using me for your little text messaging services when I know that cell phones exist, they’ve existed long enough for you deities to know how to use them. So don’t come here to one of my rainbows just to disrespect me and–”

“Link to humanity!” I all but yelled as the rainbow got bigger and bigger. I could almost see the pissed off face in the mist.

“Finally, gods.” The voice muttered as I breathed out a sigh of relief. Iris was cool, she was one of the lesser known goddesses but had those moments (a lot of moments) where she felt underappreciated and used. It really, really pissed her off when people couldn’t remember her full name. It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember my own name, never mind a deity’s full name. I was surprised she even allowed me to use her messaging system any more.

“Yeah, sorry Iris. Been a long day.”

“Long day? Long day? At least you get to walk around, free and unbothered. I’m stuck in these stupid rainbows like it’s my–”

“Just – just please accept my gift to you.” I flicked the drachma into the rainbow and watched as the drachma disappeared into the mist. I threw another in just in case she decided to come back. The nasally voice didn’t snap out again, so I figured I should be safe. “Show me Colette Thornwall at the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center. Please. Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow and Messages and…the sea…and, uh, shit–”

The mist shimmered and twisted before I could finish until an image began to form. It showed a girl about late-twenties with a sharp, angular face typing furiously on a control board. Her dark eyebrows were knitted together as she tapped her foot impatiently against the tile floor.

“Lettie,” I hissed, unsure if anyone else was in the room with her. No response. “Lettie…Colette.”

“Christ!” She yelped and jumped a foot in the air as she whirled around and finally locked eyes on my form covered in mist.

“Wrong god,” I quipped as her mouth gaped open. It took her about two seconds before she snapped out of her stupor and her words began running a mile a minute.

“Sophia? Where the hell have you been? It has been – what, three months? Three fucking months since you’ve decided to drop off the face of the planet. Do you understand how worried I’ve been? Not to mention that, but Crooks has nearly flown off the handle three times because he is completely incapable of doing anything on his own because he’s actually a child who needs constant guidance which I do not have the patience for so –”

“Colette,” I interrupted before she forgot to take a breath. “Breathe. Gods, I’m fine.”

“And what the hell is this?” She completely ignored me and waved her hand to the image of mist that I knew she was staring at.

“I just Irised you. It’s a type of communication since I can’t be there right now.”

“You just what?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “You know what, forget it. I don’t even want to know. But why can’t you be here? You always just…show up.”

I glanced down at my socked feet. “I can’t leave, Lettie.”

“Can’t leave where?”

“The Avengers facility.”

“You mean you’ve been kidnapped by the Avengers? As in, the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes Avengers. Those Avengers.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, those Avengers. I haven’t been kidnapped. I’m sort of on…” I struggled to find a word to describe the situation I was in. “I’m on house arrest, if you will.”

Colette threw her hands up in the air and pulled a chair towards her with her foot before she plopped down. “That’s it. You need to give me a full explanation. I need a full report, start to finish. And don’t leave anything out.”

“Lettie, you’ve got a mission to–”

“Don’t try to sidetrack me with my job, as if you suddenly care about work ethic.” She snorted and threw her Bluetooth earpiece onto the control board. “Besides, my astronauts are sleeping and the two other flight controllers have gone to go fuck in the bathroom so I’m all yours.”

I sighed and sat down on the soft grass and twirled dandelions between my fingers as I told her everything. From my trip to Boston, to being captured by Hydra, being found by the Avengers, Hades little pit stop and everything in-between. I left out the parts about Bucky. I couldn’t really deal with her reaction at that moment.

After I was finished, she was silent for a moment. “Wow. You just love to fuck with your personal safety, don’t you?”

I gaped at her. “Did you miss the whole I got kidnapped by Hydra part or are you just stupid?”

“I heard you. I’m not deaf yet.” She glared at me. “But you went back to your apartment in Boston. You know what happened there last time. Are you really surprised you got jumped?”

I shivered as the beginnings of a dark memory began to show itself but I quickly shoved it away as I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. It happened, it’s over. We’ve got other problems.”

“Yeah we do. Zeus’ jar of evil got stolen and Pandora’s jar.”

I sighed as I rolled my neck to relieve the aching muscles. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a problem.”

“A problem? Soph, this is major. And it explains a lot.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

Colette sighed and glanced behind her before she turned back to me. “Things have been…weird here.”

“Weird as in you actually participating in the graveyard shift weird, or bad weird?”

“Bad weird,” she snapped though there was a hint of a smile on her face. “There have been some stirrings. We don’t know what yet, but there has been some restlessness coming from some quiet galaxies and some monsters have been making a reappearance that really shouldn’t be. It’s like everything evil is slowly coming alive again and it’s really causing an uprising.”

“Is it manageable still?” A knot tied tightly in my stomach as the dandelions in my hand withered slightly.

Colette nodded. “For now, yeah. I don’t know. It may be nothing. But from what you’re telling me, I think it’s connected. The stealing of the jar and Pandora’s jar. It’s caused something. Something’s happening we just don’t know what.”

I frowned as I threw down the now dead dandelions. “What’s our status on Min-Yen?” I asked and Colette tilted her head in confusion.

“That creep? Dunno. Nothing major though. He’s been out of the picture for a while.”

“Start monitoring him again.”

Colette nodded and spun her chair back as she tapped a few buttons on the panel. “You think he’s connected?”

I frowned even heavier as my mind started churning. A plan was forming in my mind…a scheme I hoped with every fiber in my being that it wasn’t true. “I don’t know. But if anyone is…it’ll start with him.”

Colette’s face was grim as she finished the command then wheeled back to me. “So, you’re alright over there? Do I need to bust you out and kick some Avengers ass? I know how to fly one of their quickjets so I’m qualified.”

“Quinjet,” I corrected with a smile. “Maybe if you’re gonna bust me out you should at least be able to pronounce what you claim you can fly.”

“Leave me alone, will you? I’m running on three hours of sleep and seven cups of coffee. That fact that I’m even this functioning is a miracle.”

I laughed and it felt so good to laugh. “You don’t need to bust me out,” I assured her as I glanced at the rising sun. “I should stay here. They need me for something, I don’t know. Maybe they can give me some answers, too. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“Yeah, same here.” Colette sighed as she tapped at the control board. “I miss you, you know? It’s so much quieter with you gone. I actually miss your stupid jokes.”

I grinned broadly. “I want you to remember this moment next time I make a fantastic joke and you start yelling at me.”

Colette rolled her eyes before a movement on one of the monitors captured her attention. She cursed softly. “I gotta go, those idiots in the bathroom just tripped an alarm so I have to stop the entirety of Langley from storming in here thinking we have a security breach.” She shook her head and looked at me as if to say don’t you miss this? “I’ll talk to you later, Soph. Don’t be a stranger. And I’m glad you’re okay. Next time you decide to go AWOL, send a postcard or something.”

I smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you, Colette. Save some lives, yeah?”

She mumbled something under her breath, but it was too quiet for me to hear as I wiped my hand through the mist and the image dissolved.

Things have been weird here.

This day was already starting off just wonderfully, I could already tell.

With a tired groan, I fell back against the grass and stared up at the ceiling. It was white, nothing special. But when I closed my eyes, I saw galaxies.

“Unsub. Mr. Barnes requests access to the fourteenth floor.”

I jumped at the mechanical voice that snapped me from my star-gazing as I shot up. I glanced around for the source of the voice until I realized it was the AI – FRIDAY.

“What the hell is an unsub?” I asked out loud, without even realizing it.

“Unknown subject,” the robotic voice responded and I laughed out loud. I didn’t know why it was so funny to me, but it was amusing.

“Cool…uh, yeah, he can come up.” I replied. FRIDAY didn’t respond and I figured that was the end of our enthralling conversation. I leaned against my bed until my doorknob twisted and the door swung open.

“You should really keep your door locked.” His voice sent a spike of warmth down my spine and I found myself immediately relaxing.

“You should really learn to knock,” I quipped back. Bucky shut the door behind him and his eyes took in the room. He didn’t look as floored as he used to, which was a start.

“I can actually see the forest. Did you do the thing?”

I snorted at his perfect description of manipulating The Fog. “No. I actually turned this place into a forest. It’s real. Not just a part of my reality. It’s yours too, now.”

Bucky nodded though he still looked confused as he hung by the door. He was dressed in a black Under Armour long sleeves and running shorts. His hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun and the pieces that fell out were limp against his face. He looked so good it was painful.

“You can sit,” I laughed as he eyed the room carefully. “Nothing will bite you unless I say so.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to say something but he kept his mouth shut as he walked over to me and sat down a few feet away. His eyes took in his surroundings as he watched the stream giggle and curve over the rocks.

“Has Tony got you tracked yet?” Bucky made a sour face at his own question and I shook my head.

“Nah. The tracking device he had set up wasn’t going to work so I think he’s figuring something else out. I’m not really sure.”

Bucky nodded and seemed pleased though I wasn’t too sure. He eyed the shadows along the edges of the room and I had to hide my smile from his searching eyes. “He’s been in his lab all day.”

“He’ll probably have to go old school. Y’know, ankle monitor and all. I’ll look like a real criminal.”

“You’re not a criminal, Soph.” Bucky frowned and I tried to ignore how my heart stuttered in my chest when he called me Soph. I mean, it was still my name so what did it matter? “Besides, Tony won’t go with an ankle monitor. That’ll bruise his pride too much.”

I shrugged. “It’s the only way it’ll work. Nothing can be put into my blood, it’ll dissolve.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. “Why?” I quickly realized that he wasn’t in the lab when I cut my hand open with the celestial bronze so I explained the whole debacle as quickly and efficiently as I could. “So…you have golden blood?”

“I mean…well, yeah. I guess that’s the best way to put it.”

“So. You’re blood. It can dissolve metals and certain tracking devices. Can it hurt…mortals, or people, or whatever you call us?” Bucky’s lips were turned down in a pout and I found it sort of endearing and entirely too adorable for him. I swallowed thickly and gazed down at my hands.

“I’m not sure. You’re enhanced so you may have some immunity against it. But if you were to ingest my blood you’d spontaneously combust so if you have an inclination to become a vampire I wouldn’t suggest me being your first victim.”

Bucky chuckled as he leaned back against my bed. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” He was quiet for a moment. “What else?”

I turned to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“What else is different about you?”

I stiffened immediately and had to force myself to relax. There was so much, so much that he couldn’t even try to understand. It was all on the tip of my tongue, my heart begging me to open up and tell someone. To let someone else in on my secret. Instead, my brain steered me away and reminded me why only a few people knew, why no one else could know. I forced the lump down my throat and shrugged again. “Um, metal doesn’t harm me.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows for me to elaborate. “I, uh, I’m not affected by the metals that you use here. So bullets, knives, arrows, whatever weaponry you have won’t hurt me.”

“You’re invincible?” He gaped at me and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hardly.” I grinned. “Celestial bronze and imperial gold can do some pretty nasty damage. But regular bronze? Steel? Titanium? Won’t leave a scratch on me.”

Bucky blinked at me a few times before he seemed to snap out of his stupor and stared at me. His whole body was stiff as a rod and his voice was clipped when he spoke. “Is celestial bronze…is it, is it popular?”

“Popular? I mean, it doesn’t show up on the periodic table if that’s what you mean.” I grinned in hopes of relaxing his stance but he didn’t budge. “But, no. It’s the rarest element on Earth and imperial gold is even rarer. And to craft it into something usable and capable of damage requires an expert blacksmith. And since no army is blundering about with huge bronze swords, the job has sort of dwindled out.”

Bucky visibly relaxed as he sagged against my bed. He mumbled under his breath but I couldn’t hear what he said though a part of me wondered if I really wanted to know. “You did well yesterday,” he murmured.

I quirked an eyebrow. “Well, a little birdy told me that if I didn’t speak up I may or may not be subjected to some unspeakable amount of torture by the big bad government. So I figured I’d better toss my two cents in somewhere.”

A smirk quirked on Bucky’s lips and he didn’t look apologetic whatsoever. “Look where it got you. Your own floor and Tony’s admiration.”

“I’m not too sure about the second part of that sentence. But you’re damn right about the first part, how nice is this place?”

Bucky glanced around the room. “I think you confused interior decorating for landscaping but it doesn’t look too bad.” He smirked and my stomach clenched at the sparkle in his eye. I gaped at him in mock offense as I waved grandly at my room.

“Well, excuse you Mr. HGTV. Does your room have a river? No, didn’t think so.”

He shrugged. “No. But it does have a real kitchen.”

“That’s a low blow and you know it.”

Bucky laughed. A full body laugh that filled every corner of the room and rivaled the sun that flashed through the panes of glass. It made me laugh too and I wasn’t even sure why, it just did. He was still smiling when he looked at me, but his eyes were bleak and ice-gray. “Can I ask you a question?”

I shrugged. “I really don’t know why you ask anymore. We all know that even if I say no you’re probably going to ask it anyway.”

Bucky grinned as he turned to face me. “Who were you talking to earlier?”

I raised an eyebrow as I tried to mask my shock. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier. I um, I was here before. I was going to knock on your door but I heard you talking to someone. So, I didn’t want to interrupt. But, I’m just wondering. Because I know Tony didn’t give you a phone and I know you don’t have one on you.”

He at least had the right to look sheepish but it was a weird look on him. He normally was pretty confident when he spoke with me, or at least was direct. It was odd to see him bumbling over himself.

“I didn’t peg you as an eavesdropper,” I mused. Bucky ducked his head as he focused on his hands.

“M’not,” he mumbled. “I just…wrong place wrong time I guess. I didn’t mean to, I swear. I didn’t hear anything.”

“Liar,” I immediately called out. “You have super-soldier hearing, pal. Don’t even pretend like you didn’t hear what I was talking about.”

Bucky winced and his mouth twisted into a frown. “Alright. Yeah, I did hear. Doesn’t mean it makes any sense.”

I tilted my head as I stared at him. His forehead was wrinkled slightly as he seemed to think extremely hard about something. My stomach twisted as I thought back to me and Riley’s conversation. “Well, I think if it did make any sense it would mean you’ve been in my head. And that’s never a good place to be.” I tried to joke around, either to get Bucky off the subject or redirect my mind from overreacting. It didn’t work.

Bucky looked at me and I didn’t hear his sigh but I saw it. “Sophia. Who is Min-Yen?”

I swallowed sharply. Dark memories began to unfurl around me and I had to shut my eyes to quell the cold air that threatened to freeze me into place. “Consider yourself lucky that you can ask a question like that.” I couldn’t keep the venom out of my voice. Instead, I released a deep breath. “He’s…he’s a bad person. He’s someone you don’t want to know about.”

Bucky’s mouth twisted into a thin line as his gray eyes regarded me carefully. “But I do. You asked about him when I went to Indonesia. If he is going to affect missions I–”

“He won’t,” I interrupted quickly, my voice tight. I hope. I clenched my jaw and turned my gaze to Bucky. “You have enough to worry about. Let me worry about this, okay? If it starts to affect you I’ll let you know. I swear.”

Bucky didn’t look happy but this was one of the few things I wasn’t going to budge on. “Okay,” he acquiesced begrudgingly.

I wrung my hands together nervously as I stared at the dead grass around my legs. I needed to learn how to control my emotions better or I was going to destroy my new place before I had even lived in it. “Level four friend, okay?” I whispered. Bucky seemed to understand that as he nodded his head.

“What level am I at?” He asked though there was a hint of a smirk across his lips that nearly made me jump for joy. I managed to control myself. Barely.

“Hm,” I pretended to ponder deeply, like I was considering the meaning of life. “I would say…level one point two-five.”

“What?” Bucky gaped at me, affronted. “You’re joking.”

“I would never joke about something like this,” I gave him an overly-serious look. “Besides, you’re always scratching around my life. You haven’t given me a chance to ask questions.”

Bucky’s smile faltered and I knew. Despite my teasing voice, I had struck a chord. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence that I hadn’t asked any questions yet. He didn’t even pretend to act dumb, which was refreshing. “Didn’t know you were interested,” he mumbled.

Just kidding, apparently he was going to act dumb.

I rolled my eyes. “Please, Bucky. You’re an enigma why wouldn’t I be interested?”

He squirmed in his seat and my heart crunched at the anxious look that crossed his face. He seemed to be at war with himself as he ran his palms over his short clad thighs. “Alright,” he swallowed. “What do you want to know?”

I raised my eyebrow in an effort to mask my shock. “What’s something you’ve never told someone before?” I asked. “Y’know, like I’ve never told anyone that I can eat cottage cheese out of the container like nobody’s business.”

Bucky scrunched his nose up. “That’s disgusting.”

“Hey! Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Bucky furrowed his brow but luckily didn’t say anything. He tapped his finger against his knee and I was distracted by the muscles in forearm. Even through his black long sleeved I could see the muscles shifting and the tendons rippling. Shit.

“I can cook.”

“Huh?” I stuttered eloquently as he broke me from my revere.

“I can cook.” Bucky repeated. If he saw me staring he didn’t say anything. That didn’t make my intense blush lessen. “Like, really well. I like doing it too.”

I suddenly had an image of Bucky in an apron with his hair up and flour all over his face. I had to stifle my laugh as I stared at him. “Really? What do you cook?”

Bucky shrugged. “Anything. I like to experiment.”

I curved an eyebrow and grinned excitedly. “Prove it.”

Bucky cocked his head slightly at me. “Prove it?”

“Yeah. If you’re really such a great cook you should be able to cook something. Unless, of course, you’re not as good as you claim to be.”

Bucky grinned wickedly and a spark of excitement danced in his eyes. “You’re on.” He bounded from his spot in the grass and practically ran to the kitchen. I smiled and turned my attention to the dead grass. Yellow and cracked. I frowned and waved my hand and watched as the grass shriveled tighter then burst in a fountain of green.

“Uh, Soph?” Bucky called from the kitchen. “I can’t cook if you don’t have any food.”

I grinned. “What did you plan on cooking?”

Bucky furrowed his brow. “Well, I have to go to the grocery–”

“Bucky,” I repeated his name more forcefully. “What do you need?”

He regarded me with cautious eyes as he glanced at the empty fridge. “Um. Meat, steak. Peppers, onion, garlic. Curry. Uh, some Greek yogurt and spices too. Like the usual. And rice, or couscous. Salt and pepper too.”

I nodded and flicked my wrist. On the counter, every item he requested appeared in a flourish of vines and leaves. Bucky blinked at the counter before he turned to me. “What–”

“Consider it another specialty,” I explained for him. I wasn’t ready – and frankly neither was he – for the full explanation.

“Okay.” Bucky stared at me before he seemed to snap out of his stupor. He moved towards the counter and began to become looser as he focused on the task. If I wasn’t terrified of being totally mortified, I would’ve sat and watched as he bumbled around the small kitchen. His huge frame looked almost comical by the tiny counter-stove and even smaller oven. Instead, I turned away and walked to the huge windows and took in the changing light. Dark amber rays began to peek over the trees and the sun washed the grass at my feet in a dusty gold haze. Particles floated in the weak light and I welcomed the warmth on my face.

The air outside shimmered but I knew it wasn’t hot, it was coming to autumn. The heat of summer had long since wilted away. It was The Fog. Barely noticeable only to someone like me, and I had to truly look. I knew if I looked in the forest there would be more than just trees and squirrels. There would be creatures of a different time period, creatures not even the most imaginative person could create. There would be creatures like Min-Yen, posing as a human and lurking in the darkest corners just waiting to strike. I shivered as a frown twisted my features.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bucky’s voice sounded by my ear and I nearly jumped out of my skin. He shrugged apologetically but his eyes remained on mine.

I sighed as I crossed my arms across my chest. “How long do you think I’ll be here for?” I asked softly.

Bucky shrugged again. “Dunno. However long they want you here, I guess.” He was silent for a moment. “Why, you’ve got somewhere to be?”

I frowned as I thought back to mine and Riley’s conversation. “Something like that,” I murmured. Things have been weird here. I didn’t like that sound of that at all. While weird was something I dealt with daily, but when it was coincidentally weird, that’s when I started to worry.

“You’re doing it again,” Bucky said. I hummed in question, too far away in my own mind to give him a coherent response. “The grass…it’s dying.”

I looked down and realized, with a start, that the grass surrounding Bucky and I were almost gray. I swallowed and tried to conceal my blush as I waved my hand and the grass shriveled and turned vibrant green. “Sorry,” I muttered as I turned my gaze back outside.

“S’alright.” Bucky was quiet as we stared out onto the grounds. “Does it happen a lot?” He asked.

“Does what?”

“Everything around you dying when you get upset, does it happen every time? Or only when you get really, really upset.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, really upset?”

“You’re forehead,” he pointed towards the middle of my eyebrows, “gets all scrunched up. And you frown while biting your lip, sometimes you pull at it. You were doing it when you saw the documents. That tells me that while you may or may not know exactly what those documents said, you have a pretty good idea and whatever that idea is; you don’t like it.”

I touched my forehead and felt that, in fact, my skin was basically folded. I immediately used my thumb to smooth out the wrinkles. “Anything else you want to tell me, oh wise one?” I tried to tease but my voice came out bitter. I tried to smile but I was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace.

Bucky shrugged with such nonchalance I wanted to punch him. “Maybe,” he mused, “but not yet.”

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms and tried very hard to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t want the grass to give me up again. Or my face. Or whatever the hell else he was using to pick out my emotions.

“Then what’s the point?” Bucky tilted his head curiously at me. “What’s the point? Why are you here? If you know so much, yet you don’t want to say much, then why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” he frowned and I felt a slight spike of satisfaction when I saw his brow crease a bit. At least I wasn’t the only one who looked like an old lady when they thought. “First thing is, I don’t know anything. I have guesses, hopes, and questions; mostly questions. I guess, I just, I want to hear them from you.”

“Hear what from me?” I finally snapped, glaring at him. Bucky didn’t flinch and I realized that he was one of the world’s deadliest assassins. I could glare at him all I want but it would literally do nothing. He probably thought I was having an aneurysm or something, or was thinking too hard. Again. “I don’t have answers, Bucky. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this.”

“See, this where I have to disagree with you.” He leaned forward as he looked at me but I quickly averted my eyes. “I think you do have the answers. You may not know it yet, or you’re not ready to admit that you do. But I’m willing to wait, for however long, I’ll wait.”

An indignant spark flashed in my stomach. “Well, it’s a good thing you never age. Because you’ll be waiting a long time,” I laughed bitterly as I turned my face away from the rising sun. The golden rays made me feel sick. I think you do have the answers. God, who did he think he was? Acting like I was some sort of search engine that when he typed in a keyword I’d immediately begin spewing out information. It pissed me off. Irrational, probably, but still valid.

“Will I?” Bucky whispered and I took a deep breath to hide the snarl that threatened to rip out of my throat. We were quiet for a long time, me trying to regulate the raging storm inside of me. I didn’t know what Bucky was doing, and frankly I didn’t actually care.

Before I could do anything, FRIDAY broke the silence. “Unsub; Mr. Stark requests your presence in building four, sublevel 5.”

Thank the gods, I wanted to mutter. “Thanks,” I mumbled to the AI with no response. I quickly spun around and hurried towards the door.

“Sophia,” Bucky called. I wanted to keep walking, but it was like whenever he said my name I couldn’t help but stop. “Come back soon, alright? Don’t want your food getting cold.” He nodded towards the stove where something was sizzling.

“Let it,” I muttered before I turned my head away and pulled open the door, letting it slam shut behind me.

As the door came to a close behind me, I felt my chest tighten and my face harden, like my emotions had become marble. And behind me, the entire room turned to black, as the walls fell apart and everything died inside, leaving Bucky behind with a simple bed and a stunning view. And a black, black room.

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theoldestsoultrilogy · 6 years ago

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“From the beginning, I did not believe one word of his. He preaches mercy, but is in truth an ice-cold, sly, Machiavellian, and, what is worse – he lies.”

These are the razor-sharp words of a cardinal within the walls of the Vatican as recently reported by the German magazine Der Spiegel, one of the most influential political magazines in Europe. This is utterly unprecedented, guys. There can be no doubt now that we have entered a time unlike anything the world has ever seen before.

As I chart what I’ve excitedly dubbed the elite apocalypse and do my part to help tear down the dark prison pyramid and usher in the liberation of this planet from the evil control forces who’ve held it “through child abuse,” to quote Sinead O’Connor, many of you know I keep a very close, and critical, eye fixed on The Holy See.

And for very good reason. The the Roman Papacy is by all prophetic accounts the main stronghold of the old control world, and it’s fall will usher in the New Earth.

It’s no secret that, just like Sinead, I am no fan of The Vatican and regularly take jabs at the man I’ve decided to start calling (for reasons I explain below) “FRANCIS THE LAST”

https://twitter.com/Tiff_FitzHenry/status/1034551589053374467

https://twitter.com/Tiff_FitzHenry/status/1036262068838690816

https://twitter.com/Tiff_FitzHenry/status/1048034135359574018

Yeah, I know I can be a little brutal. But look, “the church” has presided over the largest child abuse cult on earth, which has committed the most mass crimes against humanity in the history of civilization on this planet. And I happen to really love children and humans for that matter, so that’s a big problem for me. My snarky tweets are more than justified considering the scale of pure evil we are talking about here.

I also despise the hijacking of spirituality (which we humans are naturally wired for) to centralize power which is then wielded extemporaneously, all over the planet, for the further centralization of even more power held by even fewer individuals in a closed elite system all while hoarding the planet’s wealth, secrets and knowledge. Something about that just that really grinds my gears.

The elites who lie to and subvert humanity are my mark, and I am possessed to destroy them.

I know in my bones that the “closely guarded secrets of the Catholic Church” will soon be revealed and that this will torpedo the Roman ruling state as we know it. But what I didn’t know, until a few days ago, was that there are four different very well-known prophecies which all predict that Pope Francis will be the final pope, that his fall is guaranteed, and with it will take down the Luciferian bloodline cabal, the Roman Empire, once and for all.

Yes guys, this is BIG! Get excited!

We’ve all been meticulously, intentionally, and repititiously taught that “the Roman empire fell,” however that didn’t actually happen. Surprise! Yeah, we were lied to. Can you even believe it? LOL 🙄 Anyone else sensing a pattern?

The truth is that the seat of power that was Rome never abdicated its throne, it merely changed forms. That’s another subject for another post just something you need to know going forward.

Likewise, we’ve all been socialized to believe that the institutions which currently exist on our planet should all be there—that just because they’ve always been there that means they always should be. I mean, says who? Right? We’ve also been brainwashed to believe that these massive institutions can not ever fall. “Too big to fail” trained us well on that thought pattern, right? But this too is a grand hoax. Nothing and no one is too big to fall, or fail, especially when they have failed us. When they have forsaken their people and their purpose. Just ask Harvey Weinstein, whom I have it on very good authority is penniless at this very moment, and who will spend the rest of his life in a jail cell and die broke and alone—as the vile monster should.

We need to start to become VERY comfortable with the concept that the largest institutions on Earth will and are falling, right before our eyes.

We have entered a new era, ready or not. This is a time like nothing that has ever come before. It is an age of authenticity, where the truth about what these institutions actually are is all being pushed to the surface. And the Vatican is no exception.

So, what did all these prophesies and visions say? What will all this look like and how is it going to end? I’m so glad you asked!

Let’s start with St. Malachy and his Prophecy of The Popes.

Malachy was a 12th century Irish Bishop who made a prophecy that there would be 112 Popes (FYI Francis is the 112th). He wrote short prophetic descriptions of who each of the 112 Popes would be based on certain identifying factors such as name and birthplace.

His prophecy was long ago officially approved by the Catholic Church and stored in the Vatican archives, in spite of the fact that it predicted the future destruction of Rome. It remained a closely guarded secret for centuries.

Here is Malachy’s prediction of the 112th Pope in full is:

“In the final persecution of the Holy Roman Church there will reign Peter the Roman, who will pasture his sheep in many tribulations, and when these things are finished, the city of seven hills [i.e. Rome] will be destroyed, and the dreadful judge will judge his people. The End.”

Alright now, calm down. I know that sounds scary as heck but remember, this is The Elite Apocalypse we are talking about—the end of their dark reign over our beautiful, sacred divine world. The destruction of the good moral righteous humanity is not at hand. We haven’t been the secret Luceferians deceiving humanity for centuries, brainwashing them on a mass scale, hoarding all the wealth and resources of the planet and stealing and eating babies, right?

Remember, this is the judgement and the destruction of the wicked. This is the judgement, and expelling of evil and darkness. When you think about it, we’ve already been living in our own personal apocalyptic hellscape of darkness for millennia.

Alright, back to Malachy. He prophesied the 110th Pope, Pope John Paul II, by saying “From the labour of the sun / Of the eclipse of the sun.”

Scholars confirm this prophesy by noting that the sun was in eclipse during the day and very moment of Pope John Paul’s birth on May 18, 1920, as well as and during his funeral on April 8th 2005.

Yes guys, that is very freaking weird.

Ok, let’s look at Malachy’s prophecy concerning the 111th pope, Pope Benedict. The prophecy says of him, “Gloria Olivae,” which means “the glory of the Olive.”

The Order of Saint Benedict, the chosen name of Ratzinger, is also known as the Olivetans. In choosing this patron he was quite literally the ‘glory of the olive’ personified.

Well, alrighty then. Now that it seems this Malachy guy was indeed legit let’s look at who he said this final pope will be, “Peter Romanus,” or Peter the Roman.

Pope Francis, a.k.a Peter the Roman

Pope Francis, originally known as Jorge Mario Bergoglio, was given a birth name that is quite telling. Bergoglio is derived from the word “berg” which means “mountain” or “large rock” in German. Mario is derived from the Latin name Marius which comes from Mars—the god of war. Jorge translates to George who is most associated with St. George “was a Roman soldier of Greek origin and a member of the Praetorian Guard for Roman emperor Diocletian” who was venerated by the Crusaders.

The prophecy points out that “Peter Romanus” is identified as the last pope. Like Bergoglio in Italian, Peter, means “rock” in Greek, just as Romanus translates to “from Rome”. Hence, Jorge Mario Bergoglio’s own name points to the fact that he is the very last Pope of Rome. Even his middle name — Mario — refers to a tendency to warmonger.

Plus, the father of the current pope was Peter, or Pietro, and was from Italy even though the family moved to Argentina.

Francis is Peter of Rome.

NOSTRADAMUS

He predicted that the last pope would flee Rome in December when “two suns” seem to appear in the sky.

Nostradamus said:

The great star for seven days will burn A cloud will make two suns appear The big mastiff will howl all night When a great Pope changes his territory. 2:41

Here is another interesting Nostradamus prediction regarding the destruction of Rome.

NOSTRADAMUS QUATRAIN #10-65

Oh vast Rome, thy ruin approaches,

Not of thy walls, but of thy blood and substance;

The bite of thine utterings will be such a horrible snip,

The point of the blade thrust all the way to the handle.

In Quatrain #10-65 Nostradamus predicted the ruin of Rome as the result of an inflammatory statement made by the pope against the enemies of Rome, that would result in a backlash and the ruin of Rome. The ‘enemies of Rome” are The People. Recently the Pope has repeatedly called for ‘silence’ in the wake of revelations that have taken decades to surface. This has enflamed the masses and promped two letters calling for his resignation.

Nostradamus however, tells us that Rome’s buildings will not be destroyed, only its occupants and idols.

Hmmmm very interesting stuff. I keep visioning the spoils of Rome being redistributed amongst the victims of abuse. Let’s all picture it and see what happens!

So, what did Edgar Cayce, the sleeping prophet, say?

Edgar Cayce

During the time of the Soviet Union, Edgar Cayce predicted that Russia would one day be an ally of the United States. He said:

“…for changes are coming, this may be sure—an evolution or revolution in the ideas of religious thought. The basis of it for the world will eventually come out of Russia. Not communism, no! But rather that which is the basis of the same as the Christ taught—”

The prediction came true after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, which Cayce also predicted.

Edgar Casey predicted that there would be one final papal reign after John Paul II, that his reign would be short, and that there wold be no further papal reigns after that. In other words, that Benedict would be the last pope to begin and end a reign and there would be no further Pope to complete a reign ever again.

Yeah, pattern alert! Ok now let’s talk about Fatima.

THE VISIONS AT FATIMA

The Three Secrets of Fátima consist of a series of apocalyptic visions and prophecies which were supposedly given to three young Portuguese shepherds, Lúcia Santos and her cousins Jacinta and Francisco Marto, experienced the apparition of Mary, starting on May 13, 1917

Of the three secrets, two were revealed at the time. The third and final one—kept in an envelope by the Vatican—was not made public until mid-2000.

Sister Lúcia chose not to disclose the third secret in her memoir of August 1941. In 1943, Lúcia fell seriously ill with influenza and pleurisy. Bishop Silva, visiting her in 1943, and suggested that she write the third secret down to ensure that it would be recorded in the event of her death. Lúcia was hesitant to do so, however. At the time she received the secret, she had heard Mary say not to reveal it, but because Carmelite obedience requires that orders from superiors be regarded as coming directly from God, she was in a quandary as to whose orders took precedence. Finally, in mid-October, Bishop Silva sent her a letter containing a direct order to record the secret, and Lúcia obeyed.

The third part of the secret was written down on January 3, 1944. In June 1944, the sealed envelope containing the third secret was delivered to Silva, where it stayed until 1957, when it was finally delivered to Rome.

It was announced by Cardinal Angelo Sodano on May 13, 2000, 83 years after the first apparition of the Lady to the children that the Third Secret would finally be released. In his announcement, Cardinal Sodano implied that the secret was about the 20th century persecution of Christians that culminated in the failed Pope John Paul II assassination attempt on May 13, 1981, the 64th anniversary of the first apparition of the Lady at Fátima.

The text of the Third Secret, according to the Vatican, was published on June 26, 2000:

“The third part of the secret revealed at the Cova da Iria-Fátima, on 13 July 1917.

I write in obedience to you, my God, who command me to do so through his Excellency the Bishop of Leiria and through your Most Holy Mother and mine. After the two parts which I have already explained, at the left of Our Lady and a little above, we saw an Angel with a flaming sword in his left hand; flashing, it gave out flames that looked as though they would set the world on fire; but they died out in contact with the splendour that Our Lady radiated towards him from her right hand: pointing to the earth with his right hand, the Angel cried out in a loud voice: ‘Penance, Penance, Penance!’. And we saw in an immense light that is God: ‘something similar to how people appear in a mirror when they pass in front of it’ a Bishop dressed in White ‘we had the impression that it was the Holy Father’. Other Bishops, Priests, men and women Religious going up a steep mountain, at the top of which there was a big Cross of rough-hewn trunks as of a cork-tree with the bark; before reaching there the Holy Father passed through a big city half in ruins and half trembling with halting step, afflicted with pain and sorrow, he prayed for the souls of the corpses he met on his way; having reached the top of the mountain, on his knees at the foot of the big Cross he was killed by a group of soldiers who fired bullets and arrows at him, and in the same way there died one after another the other Bishops, Priests, men and women Religious, and various lay people of different ranks and positions. Beneath the two arms of the Cross there were two Angels each with a crystal aspersorium in his hand, in which they gathered up the blood of the Martyrs and with it sprinkled the souls that were making their way to God.”

Along with the text of the secret, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, (the future Pope Benedict XVI), published a theological commentary in which he states: “A careful reading of the text of the so-called third ‘secret’ of Fatima … will probably prove disappointing or surprising after all the speculation it has stirred. No great mystery is revealed; nor is the future unveiled.”

HOWEVER….

Critics such as Italian journalist and media personality Antonio Socci claim that the four-page, handwritten text of the Third Secret released by the Vatican in 2000 is not the real secret, or at least not the full secret. The argument is based on the following:

Written on one sheet of paper: the text of the Third Secret released by the Vatican is handwritten on four sheets of paper. Father Joaquin Alonso, official Fátima archivist for sixteen years, reports in his book that, “Lucy tells us that she wrote it on a sheet of paper. In a taped interview, Charles Fiore quoted Malachi Martin as saying the following regarding the text of the Third Secret: “I cooled my heels in the corridor outside the Holy Father’s apartments, while my boss, Cardinal Bea, was inside debating with the Holy Father, and with a group of other bishops and priests, and two young Portuguese seminarians, who translated the letter, a single page, written in Portuguese, for all those in the room.”

Written in the form of a letter: another reason why critics argue the full Third Secret has not been released is because of indications that the Third Secret was written in the form of a signed letter to the Bishop of Leiria and the text of the Third Secret released by the Vatican is not written in the form of a letter. Lúcia was interviewed by Father Jongen on February 3, 1946. When Fr. Jongen asked Lúcia when the time would arrive for the Third Secret, Lúcia responded, “I communicated the third part in a letter to the Bishop of Leiria.” Also, Canon Galamba, an advisor to the Bishop of Leiria, is quoted as saying, “When the bishop refused to open the letter, Lucy made him promise that it would definitely be opened and read to the world either at her death or in 1960, whichever came first.”

Contains words attributed to the Blessed Virgin Mary: the text of the Third Secret released by the Vatican contains no words attributed to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Socci asserts that the Third Secret likely begins with the words, “In Portugal the dogma of the Faith will always be preserved etc”, words which Lúcia included in her Fourth Memoir, but which are included only as a footnote to the text released by the Vatican.

Contains information about the Apocalypse, apostasy, Satanic infiltration of the Church: in an interview published in the November 11, 1984 edition of Jesus Magazine, Cardinal Ratzinger was asked whether he had read the text of the Third Secret and why it had not been revealed. Ratzinger acknowledged that he had read the Third Secret, and stated in part that the Third Secret involves the “importance of the novissimi“, or ‘END TIME’ and “dangers threatening the faith and the life of the Christian and therefore (the life) of the world.” Ratzinger also commented that, “If it is not made public – at least for the time being – it is in order to prevent religious prophecy from being mistaken for a quest for the sensational.”Also, a news article quoted former Philippine ambassador to the Vatican, Howard Dee, as saying that Cardinal Ratzinger had personally confirmed to him that the messages of Our Lady of Akita and Fátima are “essentially the same.” The Akita prophecy, in part, contains the following: “The work of the devil will infiltrate even into the Church in such a way that one will see cardinals opposing cardinals, bishops against bishops. … churches and altars sacked ….” On May 13, 2000, Cardinal Sodano announced that the Third Secret would be released, during which he implied the secret was about the persecution of Christians in the 20th century that culminated in the failed assassination attempt on Pope John Paul II on 13 May 1981. In a syndicated radio broadcast, Malachi Martin stated that the Third Secret “doesn’t make any sense unless we accept that there will be, or that there is in progress, a wholesale apostasy amongst clerics, and laity in the Catholic Church …”

You know, exactly what we are seeing right now.

FINAL BONUS SIGN

If for some bizarre reason you’re still in need of further convincing that the nazi pedo pope, Francis the last, a.k.a Peter the Roman, will soon preside over the collapse of the Vatican state and the unholy Roman empire once and for all, here’s one last thing to consider.

Just hours after Pope Benedict’s shock resignation, lightening stuck the Vatican, hitting the top of St. Peter’s Basillica. Not once. But TWICE.

So, what is my take on all this?

Well if you’ve studied theology you know that Jesus had a brother named James. Many scholars believe that James was the first leader of the church. I believe James knew what Jesus truly came to teach, messages of love, liberation and the truth about the powers of our humanity. What Jesus came to teach was POWERFUL. But it was powerful to the individual and to the collective, empowering them in their direct connection with the divine source of all life, and counter intuitive to the entire concept of institutions.

So “Jesus” as we know him, and in particular what was supposed to be the intirety of his message, was hijacked by the unholy power hungry Romans, who stoned James to death and installed Peter as the first Pope. I believe Frances (ie Peter of Rome) will be the final Pope, the Rome’s rule of darkness will have been from the first Peter to the last, and his fall will usher in the destruction of the Roman Empire (cabal, Luciferian, control matrix, pedophile darkness) once and for all.

THE END.

Which will actually be the beginning 🙂

In Love & Truth,

Tiffany

Tiffany FitzHenry is a Hollywood Whistleblower and Author of The Oldest Soul Trilogy

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Is This The Last Pope? 4 Historic Prophecies Say Yes. “From the beginning, I did not believe one word of his. He preaches mercy, but is in truth an ice-cold, sly, Machiavellian, and, what is worse – he lies.”

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