#its so funny how he got this name like yeah you are one cosmic joke mf | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

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Title: The Battle

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, you and the others fly to Cairo to confront Apocalypse and his soldiers in an attempt to rescue Xavier.

Warnings: Apocalypse being a leg breaking, hero strangling jerk. Characters fighting for their lives, but bookended with fluff from Peter x Reader pairing.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp, @wintwrsoldiwr, @tommy-braccoli, @amourtentiaa

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

———————————

You’d at least gotten to clean up somewhat. Earlier as Hank and the new woman you’d just met, Moira, had worked on readying the jet, you’d found some bit of helpful supplies. Clean rags to wipe off the blood, and bandages that’d you’d hurriedly applied to your shallow claw wounds.

All the remnants of your restraints were gone, and your old, torn clothes you’d just tossed in favor of the thin jumpsuit and lightly armored black flight suit over the top of it. You all wore these suits, commandeered with this experimental jet now rumbling beneath you as you shot off to Cairo together.

There was silence for a good while, after some initial nervous chatter and joking from the others. It would have been too easy to fill this quiet with any of the myriad of questions still rushing through your brain, but you really had just listened and little more when they’d filled you in earlier with the gist of what they’d learned.

All that really mattered was that the Professor was being held captive by a seemingly omnipotent mutant. One that had now declared war on all and recruited his own powerful soldiers. This was a rescue mission, with likely all your lives at stake.

You leaned your head back, wondering if anyone else would really even know or care what had happened to you if you never came back from this.

The escape from Stryker’s lab had been life threatening as well of course, but it was so different when it’d just been one thing after another. Events unfolding too quickly to really develop any sense of dread, it’d been all adrenaline and luck really.

But even in a jet like this, flying all the way to Egypt was more than just a skip and a jump. It was well enough time to dwell on your own inexperience and shortcomings, to wonder if this was the last time you’d ever do anything at all.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice was quiet, just to you, as you glanced over, having been mired only in your own thoughts until that moment.

He was sitting beside you, both of you strapped in these jump seats that ran along both sides of the jet. Vaguely you realized the others had started talking once more as well then. Maybe that was why he felt more comfortable speaking to you again now.

He hadn’t addressed you directly since you’d reunited with the others. Though you wouldn’t blame him if he was just as nervous as you were deep down. But from his self deprecating jokes in front of your friends earlier, about still living at home with his mother, he would at least seem better at hiding fear if he did have any.

“Hey,” You answered back reflexively, looking at him fully again.

“So uh....” He was chewing a piece of gum, as if some part of him still had to stay in motion in order to remain comfortable. “That car, that was pretty sweet. That yours or what?”

Honestly it took you a very long, awkward pause before you could piece together any idea of what he was referring to. But being that you’d only known him since literally just earlier today, there wasn’t anything else he could possibly mean. “The yellow convertible?” You questioned anyway, not really surprised by much of anything now.

“Yeah, I mean, I take the road if there is one. I saw you guys on the way to the house,” He answered, still offering a little explanation regardless. “Looked like you knew what you were doing though.” There was a more sheepish grin emerging. “I was going to stop and say hey I guess. But then I saw the, you know, fireball coming out the house and all, had to go see what that was about. Save everybody or whatever...” He trailed off after a bit, maybe realizing that you were just letting him ramble.

It reminded you of how you’d acted with him during the whole lab fiasco. He seemed the more confident one down there, while you got easily flustered. You really wondered if having your friends here now was making the difference. As if he was more unsure of himself when there was a potential audience to hear what you might say back to him.

It was interesting, getting to put more of those pieces together, or at least starting to be able to when it came to him. For putting on the display of an extrovert, and if you could finally admit it, even him being an outright flirt, you felt more and more sure that that was only skin deep really. That was just the outer layer he protected himself with.

“It was one of the Professor’s cars,” You smiled genuinely, probably the first one since they’d told you where you were going in this jet and why. “We were on our way back from the mall.”

That warmth from you seemed to ease him back into his normal tone, maybe a slight relief in him that you didn’t find it off putting that he’d already taken notice of you before you even knew he was anywhere around.

“Oh, mallrat, huh?” He quipped, “I can picture that.”

He was teasing, but you gave it right back. “There is no way you can tell me that you don’t end up in music stores wherever you live, like a lot.” You hadn’t forgotten his band t-shirt after all. You thought you’d seen him putting away headphones at some point too. “And that leather jacket and pants you had? Come on, that didn’t come from some bargain clothes rack.”

You might have had him for just a moment there. Just a flicker of surprise in his eyes to know you really had paid him that much attention, before he retorted, “Hey, what’s the point of a fast car if it has no style, right?”

“Says the guy who most people can’t even see until he slows down.” But you were purposeful to make clear in your tone that that wasn’t an insult at all, just continuing a little more bravely afterward, “Though their loss I guess.”

There was no mistake then, he really did pause. You could feel the slightest bit of heat in your face again, but you were not about to take that back. Not when you didn’t even know what was really awaiting you all at the end of this flight.

And you were still the next one to speak, that resolve remaining. “If we make it out of this, maybe you can come with me back over there to our mall. Help me pick out some new stuff.” You tried not to make it sound funny, but on some cosmic level it still was. “Seeing as how my room and everything I owned was incinerated and all.”

“Deal.” He said immediately. Only a little afterward seeming to realize that maybe he sounded a bit too eager. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “I mean, I’m pretty good at Ms. Pac Man too. They have an arcade, right?”

“Yes.” You answered, trying not to look too amused, and going along with him to help him feel more comfortable. “I can’t say I’m actually any good, but they do have a Flash Gordon pinball machine I always play. And a couple of air hockey tables. That’s my go-to.” No question with his speed that he would likely annihilate you on both. But the idea of being in a much simpler, safer place like that with him some day was a pleasant one right now.

“Oh yeah. I can show you a thing or two.” He was clearly back in his element then, looking smug once more.

“I’m sure you will.” You could only wonder if the god complex mutant and his lackeys you were now off to go challenge would have any idea that in the back of your mind you’d now be dreaming of a simple date in an arcade as extra motivation to get back home in one piece.

———————————

It wasn’t long before things had started spiraling in quick succession again. You’d all arrived in Cairo to find it essentially destroyed, save for what this fake god had already erected in monument to himself. A huge pyramid in the style of the ancient Egyptians, one he’d taken Xavier hostage inside.

It hadn’t been clear though how much of the destruction was done by this mutant, and how much had actually been at Magneto’s hands as it was with more shock that you’d found him in the middle of this as well. Now serving this apocalyptic mutant.

You knew enough about Magneto to both fear and respect him. Even though his history with the Professor went back so many years, Erik Lehnsherr as he was actually named was always more on the side of peace through violence. While Xavier preached ideals of tolerance and education for regular humans to one day accept mutant kind, Magneto thought them incapable of such, and had no qualms on preemptive strikes against non mutants as well as eye for an eye type vengeance.

But even for Magneto this seemed surprising. He would really just give Xavier up this way? As you’d gotten closer, Jean had sensed that Apocalypse (what you were now calling the new enemy in your own mind) intended to take over the Professor’s body, possessing him permanently to gain access to his mind control powers and become basically omniscient. He’d be unstoppable with everyone as his puppets then. Free will would cease to exist.

“You guys help Nightcrawler get into the pyramid!” Raven called back to all of you as the jet was landing. “Get Charles and I’ll take care of Erik.”

You’d snapped back to attention at the orders, and you saw that Peter was suddenly at her side.

He looked so focused all at once, “I can get you in there,” He told her, referring to the debris field of broken buildings and all else now churning, stuck in a huge magnetic orb with Magneto at its center. When she didn’t look sure, he continued quickly. “I came here for him, let me help you.”

Raven nodded to Peter then in agreement, knowing there was no time for more back and forth. “The rest of you, get Charles on this plane and get him out of here!”

You too knew what was at stake, there was no reason to argue, even if there still must have been concern on your face. You didn’t understand Peter’s change and sudden fixation on Magneto.

But it was only Kurt that spoke up immediately, yelling back to Raven and Peter, “We’re not leaving without you!”

Peter looked back at that, “Don’t worry.” In fact, you realized he was looking directly to you for one moment. “We’ll catch up.”

———————————

While Peter had sped Raven out of sight to try and reason with Magneto, Moira had stayed with the jet and Hank had come with you, Scott, Jean, and Kurt.

But as you all ran along the rubble, trying to make your way to the pyramid, it hadn’t been but moments until you encountered Apocalypse’s other soldiers, mutants set on stopping you all from interfering by any means necessary.

A tall, blonde man with wings made out of metal, a ninja seeming woman with a pinkish purple energy she could wield from her hand like a blade even while also carrying a katana, and a girl nearer your own age with stark white hair and seemingly the most power out of the three as she’d flown right towards you throwing lightning bolts from her hands.

You’d had no choice but to split up. Which you were sure was what they’d wanted even as you’d chosen to try and take the white haired girl’s attention. You didn’t really want to find out what would happen if one of those bolts struck you directly, but you could guess you had the best chance of anyone to maybe absorb some of it in your energy form.

You’d immediately powered up, glowing white as she’d chased you around the sky, both of you darting and flying in some kind of bizarre dog fight.

Your heart had been racing though, no amount of training at the mansion could actually prepare you for dueling with someone who actually wished to harm you. Everything to this point had just been about learning to control your powers, maybe even firing an energy blast at a dummy or paper target or two. But you’d never tried to hurt anyone. Not on purpose.

“Why are you helping him!?” You yelled out to her, swerving again as she tried to get close enough to you to land a hit. You generated an orb of light energy from one hand, letting it destabilize before you threw it towards her. It collapsed into itself, exploding to make a shockwave through the air that pushed her back again.

“He’s going to make it so we never have to hide what we are again!” She growled back in frustration, steadying herself in the air before her eyes hazed over into solid white.

You doubted that could be good, and of course it wasn’t as she raised her arms, a tornado like blast of wind then trying to knock you from the sky. You were able to shield yourself somewhat with your force fields, but the barrage of debris and wreckage that came with the winds made it too difficult to keep track of her as she did nearly land a direct lightning strike then.

“You’re wrong!” You yelled back, even as you felt numb and disoriented briefly, like the electricity surge was messing with your own energy. “He’s just using all of you! He only wants slaves, nothing more! And you’re just going to hand us all to him!”

She didn’t answer back after that, but you knew it wasn’t as if you could change anyone’s mind for them. She’d have to live with her own choices, just as you’d have to live with yours.

After a good while of this tit for tat though, you were really trying to take her out of the sky at last, knowing you needed to find and help the others as this had already been going on for far too long. You started trying to get her in the chest with white energy beam after energy beam shooting from your hands. She was fast, but you were able to at least get her in one shoulder at last as she spun with the force, losing altitude quickly with the hit.

Even as she fell, you could see her already correcting course though, trying to take aim at you again as she glared upwards.

But you didn’t get to see what happened next. A three fingered hand grasped your left arm suddenly from thin air, and then you were collapsing onto the floor of the jet you’d come here in.

“Gotcha, time to go!” Kurt spoke quickly as you looked to him in surprise, that strange burning smell hanging in the air briefly that always accompanied his teleporting. It was as instant a feeling as moving with Peter, but thankfully without the subsequent vertigo as you stood quickly, powering down, even as you were already looking around for the speedster.

With relief you did see Jean cradling the Professor’s head as they sat on the floor, Xavier unconscious but still breathing. But you did not see Peter or Raven.

Moira and Hank were already firing up the jet engines and you grabbed hold to the wall as you felt the craft quickly rising. “What about Peter and Raven?” You called out over the noise of the turbines spooling up faster and faster.

“We’ll have to trust them to figure it out, we’ve got to get Charles out of here now!” Hank answered back, leaving no room for debate.

You felt an unease building in your stomach, but it was true that if Apocalypse got Xavier, that Peter, Raven, or anyone else would then no longer matter anyway. At least for now you could hope Peter would just take Raven and run somewhere far from here. Xavier and Jean could use their psychic abilities to find them later and you could reunite.

But a hard thud above you left you all looking upward as the jet rattled.

“What the hell was that!?” Moira called out.

As soon as you saw that pinkish energy blade emerging through the jet’s hull, you had already powered up again, glowing and ready to shield the others as best you could. Apocalypse’s soldiers were proving too difficult to shake.

Yet Jean had other plans, “Everyone, grab onto Kurt!” She yelled.

You didn’t know what altitude you were already at, but you knew it wasn’t a survivable one for the jet itself if it was ditched now. Yet a fight in this close of quarters with all your powers would likely end in the same result. So her choice wasn’t as irrational as it first seemed.

You reached one hand quickly back, firmly grabbing onto Kurt’s shoulder, even as you kept your other hand raised towards where the metal winged mutant and the blade wielding woman were now trying to force their way in through the breach they’d created in the hull.

“I’ve never done it with this many people!” Kurt warned as you all held to him.

“Get us out of here!” Jean commanded, her desperation bringing out a forcefulness you hadn’t yet seen from her.

But Kurt was still straining, the sound of his opening whatever portal he used clearly heard but not bringing you anywhere as he tried several times.

The man with the metal wings jumped down into the cockpit, now just feet away as you realized what you had to do.

“Go without me!” You screamed over the rush of wind now coming through the hull breach. You let go of Kurt, making direct eye contact with Jean.

You could get out on your own. At least you were going to try. It was the only way. Kurt wasn’t able to take you all.

You felt that Jean was listening, that she heard your thoughts and that as difficult as it was, she agreed just as quickly. It was the only way.

“Do it!” She urged Kurt even through the horrified look he gave you both.

“I’m taking it down.” You also heard her voice say in your head almost simultaneously. That briefest warning to ready yourself before she willed the controls to throw the plane into a nosedive and cause Apocalypse’s soldiers to lose their footing.

The last you saw of your other friends was still their shocked and frightened expressions as they disappeared from right in front of you. But this was your only chance as well, propelling yourself as fast you could, right through the fading cloud of gas they left behind and past the now tumbling winged mutant as all your focus went to that small square of sunlight that they’d cut into the hull.

It was your one window of survival. For just the briefest moment, you felt him try to grab hold of your leg as you flew past him. But you kicked him with the other leg as hard as you could manage, breaking free into the open air as the jet plummeted on without you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw the woman had remained on the outside of the jet, but jumped free from it as well. You lost sight of her as you both fell, focusing only on trying to slow your descent to a survivable speed. It was one thing to levitate yourself up from a neutral position, and wholly another to try and control your energy field around yourself enough to reverse the terminal velocity transferred to you from being within a crashing plane.

The ground still came too fast, too hard. You blacked out on impact, laying alone in the dirt as your light energy faded, receding back inside you.

————————————

An unknown time later, something jolted you awake. You could hear screaming as you opened your eyes. You were laying on your side. Everything hurt and you could taste blood in your mouth.

But you were already forcing yourself back up as you swallowed. Disoriented as you were, you still recognized that voice. It was Peter. He was hurt.

You were looking all around you, and it didn’t take long to see the source and reason for the screams.

Not far from you at all, Apocalypse stood in a clearing from all the rubble. Peter right beside him, half crumpled to the ground. One of Peter’s feet was encased in the earth, trapping him there like an animal in a snare. His other leg was clearly broken, twisted at a grossly unnatural angle.

You felt a foreign rage beginning to burn up inside you, but before you could even physically react you saw the woman with the katana again. Nowhere in your mind did you take any time to consider how she would look so clean and uninjured having just come from the same circumstances as you of barely escaping the crashing jet.

All you saw was her walking towards her master, sword at the ready to finish Peter.

“Stop, (Y/N)!”

Charles screaming inside your head was the only thing that kept you from revealing yourself at that moment.

“It’s Raven! I’m telling you, it’s Raven!” Even Charles was struggling to break through your flaring emotions, as he repeated himself desperately. “He’ll kill you, (Y/N)! Stay in place, I beg you!”

The Professor had never spoken to you in such a way before. You gripped onto the broken wall in front of you, still only just obscured from their view as you saw Apocalypse grab Peter by the hair, jerking the young man’s head back roughly to expose his throat to the woman.

“It’s Raven, please trust her!” Charles did not let go. You could feel him actually starting to control you even, something he had absolutely never done before, though your emotions were exploding like they also never had. He didn’t want you to make a life ending mistake.

“(Y/N), please.” He called again and you realized you were being held in place, unable to move out any further. You were forced to only watch as the woman raised her blade, Peter wincing in fear and pain beneath her as she swung it.

But it was only Apocalypse’s throat that ripped open. Yet even in your surprise, any sense of victory was still non existent. No blood poured from the wound, and it healed completely within moments as he only grabbed his supposed traitor by the neck, holding her up immediately.

Raven’s feet hung in the air while she choked, her blue skin and true appearance quickly returning as she could no longer control her disguise as Apocalypse strangled her.

And it was only then that you felt Xavier letting go of you, in his own shock as Apocalypse tried to bait him out.

“Charles! Come! Rescue your weaklings!” Apocalypse challenged aloud, still dangling the now helpless Raven while Peter stayed trapped at their feet. “Give your life for theirs!”

He was going to kill her right in front of you. You powered up, knowing there was no other choice. You had to-

“No. I’m still connected to him. Let me get in his head, (Y/N), then you can go to them.” The professor spoke quickly, yet with a touch of new resolve.

“Charles! Will you do nothing?” The false god continued to bellow.

This time you listened without being forced to. You did see Apocalypse pause as if Xavier was indeed making contact. It was still an agonizing wait, but when he finally let go of Raven, you allowed yourself some shred of hope. You’d never seen anyone be able to overpower the Professor mentally, once he was fully in.

But that hope was also short lived as just moments later Apocalypse raised his hand abruptly. At will he dissolved the outer wall of a nearby building. You could see Scott and Hank then exposed, themselves just as surprised and staring out. But you knew it could only mean that Apocalypse had used Xavier’s connection against him just that quickly to root out his hiding place.

This could be the end then. You resigned yourself that the only choice was to die fighting if that is what it had to be. But you weren’t as alone as you thought.

As Apocalypse had left Peter and Raven behind, now striding confidently to his prize, two massive steel beams suddenly shot into his path. They buried themselves into the ground, crossing into an X to block him.

You looked back into the sky, glad in this single moment that you had been right about at least one thing. Magneto wouldn’t give Xavier up in the end. Not without bloodshed anyway.

“You betray me?” Apocalypse asked, already turning to deal with Erik instead.

“No. I betrayed them.” Magneto unleashed hell then, every bit of metal he could pull shooting towards Apocalypse in an unending assault as the other raised a shield that incinerated each and every piece as it hit. But doing so clearly taxed him, allowing the perfect moment for the rest of you to join the battlefield.

You got to Peter almost simultaneously as Hank got to Raven. You and Beast were clearly in the same mindset of getting the injured out of the immediate firefight before you would join in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, the Professor froze me,” You spoke in quick apology to Peter, using a small energy blast to break up the earth that had been hardened around his trapped foot. Once cracked, you broke the rest of it free just with your fingers.

He was obviously surprised, grateful, and maybe even confused all at once as you gently lifted him with the help of your powers. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders, trying to mind his broken leg as you helped support him while gliding over to a safer spot some distance away.

“Stay here.” You spoke, sitting him down so his back was against a mostly still standing wall to shelter them.

Hank was sitting Raven down in the same manner beside him as Peter suddenly spoke up to you. “Wait.”

You were still crouched in front of him, you’d been about to stand back up when his hand went around the back of your neck and pulled you in closer.

Before you could register anything else, you felt his lips press against yours. It was a bit harsh, desperate even, and then it was over just as fast as you pulled back in surprise.

“In case we don’t ever get to make it to that arcade,” he responded to your shocked expression that was still evident even in your energy form like this.

You took a breath, now was not the time for verbalizing any of this. But you wanted to show you agreed with the sentiment. You leaned back in, kissing him yourself for one longer moment, one hand gently cupping the side of his face before you stood back up. He allowed the contact readily and you could only wonder what it felt like to him when you were enveloped in light like this.

Hank and Raven just gave you both the most confused of looks, but nothing was said as you and Beast had then rushed back off to throw yourselves into the fight.

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(Continued in next chapter here)

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scones-and-texting-and-murder · 4 years ago

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if you would’ve been the one

(1300 words, rated T, read on ao3)

When it happens, Dean’s so hyped up by the adrenaline still coursing through his system that he almost doesn’t notice. It’s not until Sam dispatches the last vamp and Dean sags a little in relief, only to realize he can’t move. He’s pinned, like a butterfly in a display case, like he’s back on the rack.

It’s almost funny. That he could battle every sort of evil creature out there—demons, monsters, even God for fuck’s sake, only to be taken down by a bit of unfinished carpentry. He ponders the cosmic significance. Maybe there’s the start of a Jesus metaphor here, with that single nail between his flesh and the wooden post, like he’s only up to C-R-U in a fucked up game of H-O-R-S-E.

Then he remembers there is no God, no universe sending him signs or trying to teach him a lesson. Just his own free will and, apparently, shitty fucking luck that’s brought him to this inglorious moment.

Sam doesn’t get it, not at first, promising he’ll run and call for help, do what he can to patch him up but Dean stops him, asks him to stay. Yeah, they could probably do all that but Dean realizes something: he’s tired. And not only that, he’s ready.

Each night since Cas has been gone, Dean lies in bed and turns his name around and around in his mind, like a rock in a tumbler, smoothing all sides of it with his thoughts. It’s not praying, not quite, the intention isn’t there, but if Cas can still sense his longing, well, he's got that in spades. Cas gave his life for Dean, professing his love in a way that couldn’t have been more clear and Dean…he just stood there processing it all.

Dean tried to do what he always does and tucked the stunned grief he felt at losing him deep inside where the jagged edges couldn’t harm him. He rededicated himself to powering Jack up, to killing God, like finishing that would somehow make Cas’s sacrifice worth it. And when Jack became whatever it was that he became, Dean didn’t ask about Cas, even though the question was right there, trying to force its way out of his throat. Instead, he swallowed it back down. Cas had said that moment was the purest happiness he’d ever known and Dean didn’t know what to say next without defiling it.

It’s the shittiest version of waiting too long to text back until so much time has passed that it’s become awkward.

But now, with this piece of metal jabbed into what sure as fuck feels like some important organs, he finds he has some time to think. He’s got nothing left to lose, so he lets Cas’s name become an honest prayer.

The whoosh is nearly instantaneous, somehow closer than even the rushing of his pulse in his ears. It seems fitting that they’re back in a barn, although this time Dean’s the one being impaled. He hears a crackling, but it isn’t the lights showering him in sparks, just the anger flickering off of him, electricity as blue as his eyes.

He doesn’t even say it, no Hello, Dean, and yeah, Cas is pissed and Dean deserves that.

As Cas approaches, Dean realizes Sam doesn’t seem to notice him, in fact he’s faded out into the background so it’s just the two of them.

“You called?” His tone is cold, much closer to the first time they met in a barn than the last time they were together. Cas had been so human, then, emotion choking his words and filling his eyes with tears.

“I, uh, find myself in a bit of a pickle,” Dean says, and already that’s wrong.

Cas raises an eyebrow. “More like a piece of art hung on the wall.”

Dean’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Was that a joke?”

“What is it you need from me, Dean?”

It should be obvious, but Dean can’t seem to say it.

“The stories they will tell,” Cas begins, “of Dean Winchester, the greatest hunter of his time, brought down by a lowly nail.” He sighs, and holds out two fingers. “I can do this but it would’ve been nice if you’d at least kept up to date on your tetanus shots.”

Dean feels a grinding in his teeth that he probably can’t yet blame on lockjaw. He tries to duck out of Cas’s reach. “Okay, stop.”

With a look of surprise, Cas does.

“Listen, I know I should’ve contacted you earlier. I get you’re mad, I do, but all those things you said…I didn’t want you to come back and realize how wrong you were.”

“So you’ve been looking for a way to ‘let me down easy’,” he says, air quotes and all, and goddammit Dean loves him. He loves his cranky angel ass and his wild hair and stupidly blue eyes the way he’s insisted on leaving Dean affixed to this pole while they talk.

“I love you, too. I have for so long. I never dreamed you could feel the same way, not like that.” Dean can barely breathe now that he's said the words out loud.

“You’re a hard man to pin down, Dean Winchester.” There’s a small smile playing around Cas's mouth now, and the relief has Dean laughing much harder than he would at the terrible pun. It hurts and his laughter turns to a grimace. Cas touches his arm. “Let me heal you.”

But Dean shakes his head, reaching to take his hand instead. “I’m ready, Cas. Ready for what’s next. If you heal me, Sam’s going to stay and keep hunting and maybe that’s what he wants but maybe it isn’t. Either way, he’s never going to decide for himself while I’m still here.”

Cas’s face is as serious as Dean’s ever seen it, but he sees a flicker of hope in his eyes. “And you?”

“Thought maybe you could escort me upstairs and we could spend eternity making up for all we missed down here.” Cas’s face goes soft and Dean bring their joined hands to his mouth, kissing his knuckles gently. “I wish it would’ve been you,” Dean says softly. “Nailing me from behind like this.”

At that, Sam suddenly zooms back into focus, his face anguished. “Cas! Oh, thank God you’re here. Dean’s—“

“Sammy, stop. I’m okay. We got a change in plans, though.”

Confused, Sam looks between them, finally noticing their joined hands.

“We’re free now. Free to make our own choices and for once in my life I’m going to be selfish. I choose Cas. I dragged you back into this life and now I’m shoving you out of it again. You want to keep hunting? That’s up to you. But if you want to go find Eileen and settle down, that’s up to you, too.”

Sam blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Dean, are you sure?”

Dean catches Cas’s eye and they share a smile. “As sure as I’ve ever been.” Dean tries to reach for his brother to hug him, but he’s brought up short. “Cas, could you…”

“Of course, Dean.” With a wave of his hand, Dean’s free and he steps forward to embrace Sam. “Go have the life you always wanted. Have a bunch of fat babies and name one of them after me.”

Cas furrows his brow like maybe he’s seeing the future. “But don’t plaster his name on his clothing. That’s just basic child safety.”

It hurts him to see his little brother cry, but Dean knows this isn’t the end for them. “Tell them how I was the coolest and better looking brother.”

Sam nods. “I will definitely not do that.”

They hug one last time and Dean murmurs in his ear. “I love you and I’m proud of you. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Sam gives him one last bone-crushing squeeze before releasing him. “Take good care of him, Cas.”

“I will,” Cas promises.

Dean gives Cas his best blue steel. “Oh, he will.”

With that, Sam leaves and Dean knows he could never bear to watch him walk away without Cas strong and steady at his side.

Cas must sense the hesitation. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Dean answers him with a kiss.

#spn #spn spoilers #15x20 #coda fic #fix it fic #deancas #destiel #My writing

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vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

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Bird-Isms

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff, Comedy

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Fuyumi Todoroki, Keigo Takami

“Ahh, I shouldn’t be doing this,” Fuyumi scolded herself as she stood in line at a fried chicken joint, patting her cheek and pouting at her weakness. She’d only meant to run to the office supply store to grab more red pens, but the scent of deep-fried chicken tenders had simply been too strong for her hungry tummy to ignore. She’d yielded to its insistent yowls and cramping tantrum, trudging into the small diner with a heavy heart and salivating mouth. Since the new year, she’d vowed to eat healthier, but it seemed that her stomach still clung stubbornly to unhealthy morsels. A cheat day or two isn’t terrible, right? she tried to convince herself as she walked up to the counter.

She was still trying to persuade herself that she wasn’t committing some kind of cardinal sin when the employee handed her a basket of hand-breaded, crispy tenders and golden-brown crinkle-cut fries. Despite her wrestle with guilt, her mouth flooded with saliva at the promise of the salty meal to come. Slurping at her soda as if she could drown her sorrows with it, Fuyumi drizzled ketchup across the fried foods before headed to a table in the corner. As she weaved around the young teenagers and families packing the joint, she kept her basket tucked against her chest to avoid spilling it.

That ended up backfiring, however, when someone cut in front of her and she slammed right into their red-winged back.

Fuyumi released an unflattering sound when the basket flipped up, painting the bust of her skirt in bright red ketchup as the chicken tenders and fries smooshed against her body. Worse, she gripped her soda on reflex, popping off the lid and sending fizzy soda and ice cascading down her hands and to the floor. In her shock, she lost her grip on the basket, and it clattered to the floor. She couldn’t even lament the cosmic joke that was foiled lunch. She just stood there, blinking rapidly with her mouth open, as the stranger whirled on his heels.

“I’m so sorry!” he cried, crimson wings flapping anxiously and ruffling the napkins sitting on the table nearby with their winds. “Ugh, I tell the owner all the time that they need to upsize, I’m always bungling around in her trying not to knock over things,” he groaned while grabbing a fistful of napkins from the nearby container. He blushed a little and gestured to her chest with a meek, “May I, miss?”

“O-oh!” she stammered, his question bringing her out of her stupor. She pulled at the hem of her shirt, stretching the fabric so the man could lean in to carefully scrape the thick globs of ketchup away. His wind-tossed tufts of blond hair bounced with each coordinated movement, and his golden eyes flickered up every so often to make sure that she was comfortable. After her frazzled neurons regained their function to synapse, she let out another gasp when she realized just who was wiping ketchup off her clothes.

“Y-You’re Hawks!”

“The one and only,” he winked and straightened, tossing the bunched-up, soiled napkins into a nearby garbage can. “I would say ‘pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ but I’m sure you’re not jazzed about me ruining your shirt.”

Eyes fluttering, Fuyumi glanced down. Her nice button-up, ruffled white blouse was now blotched with orange-pink stains and smears. She hurriedly looked up, flapping her hands dismissively.

“No, no! It’s my fault for running into you! I should have been more careful!”

“Nonsense,” Hawks insisted, then looked down to the remains of her chicken tenders and fries scattered across the red-and-white tiled floor. “It appears I’ve also ruined your lunch,” he chuckled, looking up at her with gleaming eyes. “We could sit here and argue about who’s fault this travesty is all day, but regardless, I won’t be satisfied until you let me buy you a replacement meal.”

Fuyumi flushed darkly and began to refuse, but the creep of Hawks’ eyebrow up his forehead silenced her. She swallowed her words and nodded meekly, prompting the hero to smile. Dizzily, she fancied that he had a rather nice smile, bright and warm and charming. She was floating on air after the whirlwind encounter, so she offered no resistance as Hawks led her to his booth by a hand on the small of her back. She sank into the pleather seat, slumping into its squeaky embrace, and pinched her thigh to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Instead of the gloom of her bedroom, when she opened her eyes she was greeted with the sight of Hawks sliding into the booth and placing a fresh basket of chicken tenders in front of her.

“Thank you. This is really too much,” she said shyly, squirming and wringing her hands in her lap. With how much her belly was twisting, she doubted she could even manage two bits of the tenders now. Completely unfazed, Hawks plucked a chicken tender from his own basket and waved it around emphatically.

“Please, it’s the least I can do for causing you the trouble of having to go to the dry cleaners,” he smiled. “I insist.” Not wishing to be rude, Fuyumi took a French fry and nibbled half-heartedly on it, giving Hawks a bashful smile. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Fuyumi Todoroki. You work with my father, Endeavor.”

“No kidding?” he said, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he continued to wave the chicken tender around like a baton. “You must take after your mother because a woman as pretty as you sure couldn’t have come from a brute like him.” Fuyumi’s face flushed the color of the ketchup that had just stained her shirt, and Hawks only smirked mischievously, crunching down on the end of the chicken tender at last. “So what do you do?” he asked, the bit of chicken tender wedged into the pouch of his cheek.

“I’m a teacher,” she answered. Though it was intimidating at first to reckon with eating lunch with the number-two pro hero, Hawks’ effortless charisma had already appeased Fuyumi’s nerves somewhat. She found that her stomach had settled so she could actually enjoy the meal he’d graciously bought her. “I teach elementary school not far from here,” she continued as she munched on her chicken. “I didn’t inherit a powerful Quirk, so I decided that instilling knowledge in the next generation was the best way I could serve my community. Besides, I love children.”

“Hehe, yeah, the little rascals are adorable,” Hawks hummed, leaning a cheek in his hand as he casually tossed a chicken tender up, let it land in the basket, picked it up, and repeated it. Fuyumi watched him play with his food with slowly pinching eyebrows; she thought at first that he wasn’t even aware of it, yet his eyes glittered and looked down at his food every few seconds, implying otherwise. She jumped when he suddenly snatched it in mid-air and shoved almost the entire thing in his mouth. “So are you the oldest?” he asked around the large tender crammed in his cheeks.

“Erm… yes,” Fuyumi said, really not sure what to think about Hawks’ odd behavior. “I have a younger brother in college, and then you must know Shoto, who attends U.A.” She tried not to shudder as Hawks chewed and swallowed the chicken tender, making a loud gulping noise. When he looked down at the basket, he picked up a French fry and then inexplicably tossed it at the window. It collided with the glass with a loud thunk, and Hawks cooed in delight, feathers ruffling. Fuyumi hid her chuckle behind her hand, though her amusement showed in the scrunch of her eyebrows. Hawks was completely oblivious to her, bobbing his head a little as he tossed another fry at the window.

He’s a grown man! Is he really enjoying playing with his food? It was so impossibly ridiculous. Fuyumi scolded her students at lunch all the time for playing with their food, yet here was a sophisticated twenty-something pro hero chucking French fries around! Though she should be disgusted, Fuyumi found it oddly endearing; his golden eyes sparkled like topazes as delight filled them to the brim, and a childlike smile adorned his face.

When a snicker managed to sneak out from behind Fuyumi’s fingers, Hawks looked at her quizzically.

“Is something funny?”

Fuyumi debated whether or not she should say anything, but she really couldn’t think of a good excuse for laughing. Besides, she was madly curious.

“Hawks, um… Do you realize that you play with your food?”

The hero blinked at her, then looked down at the French fries and crumbs littering the table. A pink haze blossomed on his cheeks, prompting him to wrap his hands around his face and look at Fuyumi in complete embarrassment. His wings drew close around his body as if to shield him from her inquisition, but he looked so cute that Fuyumi couldn’t help but let out another light-hearted chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed! I’m only curious, that’s all.”

“It’s my Quirk,” he admitted, parting his fingers so he could mutter but still hiding his blush from her. “I’ve got bird tendencies, and one of those is… playing with my food. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Sorry, I must have looked like such a kid! And here I was wanting to impress Endeavor’s pretty daughter…”

Fuyumi blushed at his second mindless flirt but fought past her bashfulness to reach out and pat his arm encouragingly.

“Don’t worry! As I said, I was only curious. To be honest… It’s kind of adorable.” When Hawks looked at her owlishly, she flushed darker and flapped her hands wildly. “I-I’m sorry! That just kind of slipped out. You probably don’t take well to being called something like that; I didn’t mean to insult you, I just— oh my, I can’t believe I just called the number-two hero adorable!” It was her turn to cover her face; she buried it in her hands, wincing at the heat rolling off her flushed skin in waves. Though part of her didn’t want to look at him but rather wanted to melt through the pleather seat, she couldn’t bear not knowing Hawks’ reaction either. Meekly, she parted her fingers to peer worriedly at him.

Hawks’ expression could only be described as “a kid in a candy store.”

“You think I’m adorable, Fuyumi?” he grinned. His wings flapped behind him, feathers vibrating to try to channel the sheer elation welling up in his body. Fuyumi slowly lowered her hands, almost confused by his happiness. He continued to beam at her as he explained, “Everyone always teases me about my bird traits. Nobody understands how hard it is having DNA that’s basically part avian… So it’s really reassuring to hear you call me that!” He tipped his head slightly, scrunching up his eyes as he smiled so hard it was blinding. A warm, fuzzy feeling bubbled up within Fuyumi, making her return his smile.

“Oh, well… I’m glad you feel that way.”

“Hehe, adorable,” he cooed, wiggling his shoulders in satisfaction. Fuyumi giggled again; he really was quite a childish man, but she simply couldn’t help but be endeared by his antics.

Little chirps and tweets of delight bubbled from Hawks mouth as he polished off his chicken tenders and fries. He even finished off some of Fuyumi’s meal that she couldn’t finish. As he was licking the oil and crumbs from his fingers, Fuyumi bowed her head respectfully.

“Thank you for treating me.”

“Of course! My pleasure,” he quipped, popping a finger out of his mouth. He walked out the door with her, despite her embarrassment that someone would see them together. He slipped his hands into his pockets as they lingered on the sidewalk outside of the diner. Fuyumi stood shyly in front of him, clasping her hands while slowly swaying from side to side. “I enjoyed meeting you, Fuyumi. Really,” he said, giving her a serious look that made her heart thrum in her chest. “Maybe this is too forward of me, but perhaps we’ll see each other again sometime?”

Reeling, it took Fuyumi a moment to process before she quickly sputtered, “Yes! I would like that very much.” Her face continued to redden as he gazed at her with lidded eyes, embers burning in the golden seams of his irises. “Hawks—”

“Keigo. Call me Keigo,” he said softly. Fuyumi let out a little gasp, her cheeks growing even warmer. It was an honor to be trusted with his true name, one she wouldn’t take lightly.

“Keigo,” she repeated, enjoying the way it rolled over her tongue. “Keigo, I look forward to when we meet again.”

Ever the devilish flirt, he licked his teeth and tossed her a wink.

“Until next time, then, Fuyumi Todoroki,” he said before diving in to kiss her on the cheek. Before she could even process the brush of his lips over her blushing skin, he was gone, flying into the air in a flurry of crimson feathers. She reached up to cup her cheek as she whirled on her heel, watching him bank around the corner and disappear from sight. The titillation of her nerves was the only proof it had even happened, bringing a giddy smile to her face. She wondered how close she would get to know Keigo and his bird-isms in the coming days…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#huwumi #hawks x fuyumi #fuyumi x hawks #fuyumi todoroki #todoroki fuyumi #keigo takami #takami keigo #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha

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haberdashing · 4 years ago

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Go To The Mirror, Boy!

Post-MAG 200, Martin has an unexpected encounter while going through his daily routine.

on AO3

It hadn't been all that hard for Martin to find a job in this new world, really, even in the middle of London, even without any paperwork to his name. It wasn't the first time he'd had to seek out jobs that didn't ask too many questions, after all, jobs that mostly just wanted warm bodies that did as they were told and paid in cash. They looked at him a little funny, sure, and Martin could imagine any number of reasons why, but he knew better than to pry about the details.

He was starting to get into a routine now. For the first few months he'd brought food from the flat that he was beginning to tentatively call home because it was cheaper than the alternative, but now he'd started eating out on Mondays (as a way to make the start of the work week less painful) and Fridays (as a reward for making it through the week) at some of the cheaper restaurants near his current job site.

Today was a Friday, and on today's lunch break he had decided to check out a little café that had caught his eye a few weeks back, an unassuming hole in the wall that offered a little of everything and didn't charge a fortune for it, going off of the menu out front.

The workers all gave him a warm smile as he entered, and one of them even waved at him--were they all really that friendly, he wondered, or just that desperate for customers? Probably the latter, Martin figured from his own experience working in food service, but it was hard to know for sure.

He looked at the menu and the food on display for a long moment before deciding on a ready-made slice of vegetarian pizza and getting a cup of ice water to go with it, and all throughout the transaction the cashier and the other workers behind the counter kept up with those wide smiles. Honestly, it was to the point where Martin was getting a bit nervous, starting to remember how often in his past a smile had concealed something far worse...

Then, as the cashier handed over his food, they said in a conversational tone, "Boss let you out a few minutes early today, huh? Must be nice."

"Wh-"

Martin didn't have time to finish his thought, though, because right at that moment the bell on the café's door rang out, and in walked... well, in walked himself.

It wasn't a perfect mirror image, truth be told. The man walking up to the counter was missing the scar on his neck, still had hair that was a bright and untainted red (and noticeably shorter than Martin kept it these days to boot), his skin was a bit less pale and his shoulders a bit more slouched... but there was no mistaking that the man walking up to the counter looked uncannily like him, as if they were twins.

Martin knew the reality of the situation, though. Honestly, being twins would be a lot easier to explain than the truth.

Martin took a seat at a table off to the side and began to eat, though he kept glancing at his doppelganger as the man ordered--also getting a slice of vegetable pizza and a cup of ice water, as it happened. Martin wasn't sure if meeting him was a good idea, though the expression on his face (and that of several of the workers) made it clear that he'd noticed the connection, so he figured he would leave the decision up to his other self to make.

The man that looked almost exactly like him didn't hesitate to claim the seat across from him, or to speak up once he'd gotten himself settled.

"...I don't suppose you've heard any weird family rumors about being switched at birth?" The voice was the same as his own, too, and though the man sounded awfully unsure of himself, it was hard to know whether that was a personality trait or just a side effect of the strange situation he'd found himself in.

Martin laughed a little as he shook his head. "Can't say that I have, no. You?"

"No dice." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "D'you mind getting to know each other a bit, in case people end up getting us confused down the line or something?"

"Fine by me. I work a few blocks from here, have for some months now. The name's Martin Blackwood."

His other self let out a surprised exhale, and Martin had to stifle the laugh that started to bubble up in response. "You're joking."

"Don't tell me. Same name, too?"

"Right in one. First and last. What are the odds?"

The odds weren’t that bad, really. Martin should have figured that there would probably be another him out there somewhere in London, working the same sort of menial jobs... but he didn't think sharing that information, getting into how he was from an alternate dimension and had probably helped unleash cosmic horrors into this in one, was his best move here. Instead, Martin just shook his head again and said, "That's wild."

"You're telling me."

The two ate in silence for a moment before Martin worked up the courage to ask his other self a question that had been on his mind since they first locked eyes on one another.

"I wonder if, if we've got anything else in common, like work history, or mutual friends... You wouldn't happen to know a, a Jonathan Sims, would you?"

The other Martin gulped down a bite of pizza, his eyes bulging out. "Jonathan Sims?"

"Yeah, that's the one, is, is that a yes?"

His other self's eyes narrowed, though there was no real fire to their stare. "How do you know my prick of a neighbor?"

"It's... it's a long story, really. So he's your neighbor, then?" A hint of shaky laughter sneaked its way into Martin's voice as he spoke. Part of him wanted to refute that Jon--this world's Jon--was a prick, but honestly... honestly, that wasn't a point he was willing to argue, even if the man had ended up growing on him quite a lot over the years.

"He is, and he keeps sending me these passive-aggressive noise complaints! First he threatened to send an army of cats after me if I didn't stop my dog from barking--I still don't know if that was meant as some sort of bizarre joke or what--and then he offered me harmonica lessons, of all things, but only if I stop playing loudly enough he can hear it through the walls! What's his deal?"

Martin had never gotten a dog, though he had longed to have one of his own all his life, and while he'd picked up a cheap, dusty harmonica at a thrift store once on a whim, he'd never actually worked up the nerve to try playing the thing. Little differences there, facts he quietly filed away for future reference... but that wasn't the most important thing now, was it?

"I don't know if I can explain his whole deal in the course of one lunch break, but..." Martin couldn't help but break out into a grin. "I really think you should take him up on those harmonica lessons."

#tma #tma spoilers #mag 200 #tma 200 #mag 200 spoilers #tma 200 spoilers #the magnus archives #the magnus archives spoilers #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #tma fic #tma fanfic #martin blackwood #personal #my writing #where is jon? is he dead? is he waiting at home for martin? these are good questions

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phykios · 4 years ago

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people on ao3 were thirsty for this fic so... here you go, tumblr ❤

put on the red light M, sex work au, modern royalty au, no powers au [read on ao3]

🌊🌊🌊

Sometimes, she really regrets being best friends with Piper.

Said best friend still gapes at her from across the table, jaw practically on the floor. “Never?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Never.”

“Not even, like, at school?”

“When I would have had the time?” she asks. “I was attempting a five-year program in four years, and then… well, you know.” And she does know, all about the very exciting drama that went down in Annabeth’s senior year.

Piper is still flabbergasted. “Not even high school?”

Annabeth takes a sip of her drink. “I wasn’t exactly a hot commodity in high school.” She’d been passively pretty all her life, but she hadn’t exactly been what some might call Girlfriend material, capital G. She’d stuck to her fifteen year plan to the letter, eschewing most social contact, working herself into the ground to overcome ADHD by sheer force of will and get into Harvard, a plan which allowed approximately zero time for a boyfriend. Not that there were even boys that she had really liked at the time.

The only boy she had ever considered liking in that way, well. She had lost contact with him a while ago.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it or not, Ripley, it’s true. I’ve never had sex. You happy?”

“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, are you ace?” Piper asks. “Because that’s totally cool, of course.”

She shakes her head. “Definitely not ace.” She has a minor collection of personal massagers and insertable devices should she ever need to take care of an urge, and plenty of fantasies she can call on whenever the need arises--a system which has worked just fine for years.

“I just…” Piper stares, unconvincingly. “How?”

Shrugging, she takes another sip of coffee. “Just never got around to it, I guess.”

It’s not something she’s proud of, but by the same token, it’s not something that brings her shame, either. It is what it is; Annabeth, a notable workaholic, has never had sex with another person in her life. In some ways, it sucks, sure, but in other ways, it’s been a blessing in disguise. After all, no previous partners means that there’s no one to spread any dirt on the newly minted Princess Anja Elisabet of Sweden.

But Piper isn’t having it.

“Do you… want to have sex?” she asks. “Like, ever?”

As the daughter of one of the biggest movie stars in the world, she knows that Piper has had her fair share of high profile relationships, something that earned her a little bit of a nasty (and, quite frankly, racist) reputation among the paparazzi, which is ridiculous, since Piper is one of the most effortlessly gracious and classy people Annabeth knows. Piper does not go slinging herself and her partners around in the media like some of her contemporaries; instead, she likes to keep her personal details a bit closer to the chest, sharing them only with trusted confidants, like Annabeth, who knows full well how much Piper enjoys the act of sex. Sex for Piper isn’t dirty or taboo, it’s fun and it’s being close with other people, it’s liberating and exciting and intimate, and she extols its virtues whenever asked to give her opinion.

She makes sex sound really good, but never in a way that makes Annabeth feel ashamed for never having done it. Until now, of course. “Well… yeah,” says Annabeth. “I’d like to. I mean, I think it’d be kind of nice, you know, to do it at least once.”

“But then you’d have to start dating,” Piper surmises.

“Yeah,” says Annabeth, glumly.

Dating is a notorious problem for people in her line of work. Royalty, not architects, that is. Dating for architects is easy; just find someone who doesn’t mind the type A personalities and the obsession with work. Dating for royals is… significantly harder, and not really something she wants to engage with right now. She’s only been a royal for a few years, after all—she still feels like it’s a big cosmic joke, that someone is going to unearth some old documents or reveal a couple of forgeries that will bring the whole thing crashing down, and she doesn’t want to bring an outsider into all that drama, let alone deal with it herself.

Piper takes a sip of her drink, thoughtful, then lays out her next question carefully. “Have you ever considered a one-night stand?”

Annabeth stares. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not! People do it.”

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “people. Not me.”

“It’s really not hard,” Piper says, “I’ve done it plenty of times.”

“What, you want me to make a tinder?”

She laughs. “God, wouldn’t that be a riot. But no, I mean, there have to be other single royals or celebs around. Why not one of them?”

“Because they’re all insufferable social-climbing jackasses that make me want to rip my skull out of my face every time I’m forced to listen to them at a state dinner.”

“Okay, then.” Never one to be deterred, Piper pulls out her phone, then waits until Annabeth has taken a sip of her drink, presumably to keep her from immediately disagreeing, before dropping the bomb to end all bombs. “Let’s get you an escort.”

Annabeth snorts iced coffee directly out of her nose.

“Shit! Sorry!” Piper shoves a handful of napkins at her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, do you need water?”

Wheezing, Annabeth shakes her head. “Give me a sec,” she coughs, fingers covering her mouth.

Thank God she’s got her trusty, anti-pap hat on. If anyone took a picture of her like this, her uncle would probably disown her.

“What the hell, Piper?” she rasps when she can finally breathe again.

“I’m so sorry, I should have timed that better.”

“No, I mean—” she coughs again. “The other thing.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The escort?”

“Keep your voice down!” On instinct, she glances around the London cafe, looking for any stray microphones. Satisfied that no one is listening for the moment, she turns back to her insane best friend. “Yes, the… that thing.”

“It’s not that crazy,” says Piper, turning back to her phone. “We’ll find you a really nice one, someone super high class and discreet, draw up an NDA, and then you can cross it off your bucket list. Man or woman?”

“Man, but—" she sputters. “I—I can’t see a prostitute! Can you imagine the scandal if it got out?”

Forget the iced coffee thing. The princess of Sweden, caught with a hooker… Annabeth is nauseous just thinking about the media circus.

“Not a prostitute,” Piper corrects. “An escort.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Same umbrella, but no.” She types away, faster than Annabeth can keep track of. “Pimping is illegal here, but escorts usually have managers.”

“Be that as it may,” because Piper seems to have forgotten the key part of this conversation, “I can’t have sex with an escort.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” The million and a half legitimate reasons not to go through with it all fly through her mind, getting lost somewhere on the way to her mouth. “Because!”

Piper just smiles at her. “I’ll get you a really nice one, promise. Think of it as a late birthday present.”

“It’s September.”

“Early Christmas, then.” And she grins, full of teeth. “Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of it.”

Famous last words, she thinks, popping a bit of scone in her mouth.

***

7PM, the Dorchester Hotel. Dinner first, then… whatever, later.

Annabeth can’t help but arrive early. She’d never been a punctual person before, but apparently now it’s been beaten into her with all the rest of her princess training.

Five-star hotels are still something of a novelty for her, even though she’s stayed in quite a few by now. Thankfully she’s never stayed here before; she’d be too worried someone on staff would recognize her.

She had thought that she’d show up early, psych herself up a little, get emotionally prepared, or at least have a little time to calm her racing heart before her… date… showed up.

Unfortunately, as punctual as she is, apparently, he’s beaten her to the punch.

He’s exactly where he said he’d be, wearing exactly what he said he’d be wearing; black suit, blue tie, gold watch. Her heart is beating so loudly, she’s sure he can hear it from across the room. “Um, excuse me,” she asks, a little more timid than she’d like, sidling up to the man. “Paris?”

At his name--well, she assumes it’s his name, but it’s probably a pseudonym now that she thinks about it--he lifts his head up, his lips already quirking up in a smile that she can only describe as troublemaking. “Bethany?”

Right. She used a pseudonym as well. A second pseudonym—one other than Anja. “Yeah,” she smiles in return, her shakiness easing.

“Hey!” He stands up from his seat in the lounge, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“You too.” She realizes with a pang; he is so tall. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, startlingly green eyes and thick, curly black hair. And… “You’re American?”

“I am,” he says, unashamed. “The accent gave me away, huh? Hope you weren’t looking for something else.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she assures him. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s fine!"

He grins, crookedly, and she feels her heart skip a beat. “I’ll take it. Shall we head to dinner, then?”

***

Dinner was amazing, of course. The food, the atmosphere, and the company, she fully admits—all exceptional. Paris is an amazing conversationalist, she discovers, smart and funny and attentive, even gently teasing her a little. “You’re American, too, you know,” he’d said, sipping on his glass of wine, “so you can’t give me any grief over my lack of an accent.”

“I don’t live here,” she’d retorted, pointing her fork at him, “unlike some people I could mention.”

“Where do you live?”

“Ah, well—” Covering up her hesitation by taking a bite of chicken, she’d thought quickly. “Grew up in the States, but recently I moved to, um, Sweden, to be closer to my family.”

He’d nodded. “Expat, huh?”

“Something like that.”

He’d listened to her, really listened, chimed in at appropriate moments, made surprisingly insightful comments about her job and her life, and, well, he’s kind of perfect. If he weren’t an escort, he’d make an amazing boyfriend. She tells him as much, in the elevator on the way up to his room.

“Aw, thank you!” He smiles at her, a single dimple popping out under his strong cheekbones. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Why do you do this, anyway?” she asks. “I mean,” oh God, that question is some kind of faux pas isn’t it, Christ what the hell happened to all her etiquette training, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to—”

“No, it’s okay,” he says as the elevator door opens. They’re up on a high floor, where the higher high rollers like to stay, and she follows him as he walks confidently down the hallway. “It’s not an offensive question.”

Still, she feels pretty shitty for asking. “I’m sure you get asked that all the time.”

“Most clients honestly aren’t all that interested,” he admits, shrugging a shoulder. “They need something, I can provide it. It can be a little transactional at times, but I’ve met a lot of really cool people, so it all balances out in the end.” Arriving at their door, Paris swipes his keycard, holding it open for her like some kind of butler. “After you.”

The room is enormous, even for a five-star hotel. It is a full-on suite, with a seating area and separate bedroom, a large wooden desk off to one wall, a gorgeous, floor-to-ceiling window that looks onto Hyde Park, full of lights dotted about like mini constellations. “Wow,” she breathes, “look at that view.”

“I never get tired of it,” Paris says, coming up behind her. “No matter how many times I come here.”

“You come here a lot?” she asks. She almost follows it up with a question on how he can afford it, but she ruthlessly quashes that down.

“My clients like it,” is all he says.

“I’m not surprised, all that 1930s deco in the lobby. The façade is a little plain, though, in my opinion.”

“Oh yeah? How would you do it better, Miss Architect?” She gets the sense that he’s teasing her. It feels oddly intimate for the situation—he’s not a friend, or a boyfriend, or even a date. He’s an escort. Providing a service, as he put it. He shouldn’t be so friendly with her.

And yet. “Well, I love Neoclassical, but honestly, I’m not super into hotels.”

“What are you into, then?” Casually, he undoes his tie, sliding it off his neck. She swallows.

“Um.” Focus, girl. “Office buildings, monuments. I dunno. I just want to… I just want to build something good, you know? Something permanent. Proof that I was here, you know?”

“Something permanent, huh?” He speaks softly, a respectable distance away, but she’s drawn in anyway, by his open shirt collar and his easy demeanor and his stupid sea green eyes that remind her so much of— “That sounds really nice.”

Then he steps up to her. His hand, warm and big, draws up her arm, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, and she shivers. He cups her neck, fingering the hair at the base of her scalp, and leans in, his lips parted. He smells like salt, like the perfume of the wine they shared, like the sea on a sunny morning.

“Wait,” she murmurs against his lips.

Immediately, he pulls back. “Is something wrong?” he asks, concerned.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just—” She swallows, her heart racing. “I just need a minute.”

“Of course.” He takes a step back, and she has to stop herself from pulling him in further. “Do you need anything? Water, champagne? They always stock the minifridge.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just, I’ve never… done this before.”

“What, hire an escort?” He grins, rakish. “I can tell.”

“Not that—I mean, yes, that too, but I mean—I’ve never—” She huffs, annoyed she has to have this conversation twice in one week. “I’ve never had sex before, okay?”

That shocks him a little. His eyes widen, taken aback. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Chuckling weakly, she rubs a hand on her arm, looking out the window. “So… yeah.”

“So, don’t take this the wrong way,” says Paris, “but, there are easier ways to get laid than by using a professional. I mean, I’m grateful for the business and all, but, well, look at you.” He looks her up and down, somehow simultaneously respectful and entirely indecent. “I don’t think you’d have a problem getting a date.”

“It’s… complicated.” Understatement of the fucking millennium. “My friend thought this would be the easiest way to… go about it.”

Paris laughs. “You don’t agree.”

“I don’t… not agree,” she says. “I’m just. A little nervous.”

He nods. “I’d bet.” Chewing his lip, he looks towards the bedroom suite, and Annabeth tries not to think about how those teeth would feel on her mouth instead. “How about this; why don’t you take a shower? It might help calm you down a bit.”

“Won’t you be lonely?” she quips, a moment of reckless bravery.

“I have a few calls I can make,” says Paris, eyes dancing. “Go on. Make yourself comfortable.”

***

She has to hand it to the five-star hotels; the shower is always outstanding. Amazing pressure, amazing heat, it definitely rivals the plumbing in some of the castles she’s stayed at. And the robes, always so soft and warm, though a little on the small side. This one just barely covers her ass, which she figures isn’t a huge problem for tonight, but still.

When she steps out of the bathroom, she can hear Paris talking. “Uh huh,” he says. “Yeah. No, it’s going great. Professor Kleio said she’d write me a recommendation. She was really impressed with the last build. Yeah.” She runs her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it back from her face. “No, the conference is next month. Probably. Pretty sure I can get Tyson to help, but I don’t think it’ll get that far before the end of the week. Uh huh.”

Paris had taken off his suit jacket at some point; she can see it hung up in the closet on a hanger, perfectly pressed. He’s still in his shirt, but he’s unbuttoned it, the sleeves rolled up around his forearms. It is effortlessly attractive, even from the back. She coughs lightly, unwilling to startle him, and he turns, giving her another up-and-down, this one decidedly less respectful than the first.

“Hey, I gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow. Say hi to Estelle for me. Love you.” And he hangs up.

“Your girlfriend?” she asks.

He smiles, all soft. “My mom.”

Something in her melts at his tone. “Aw,” she coos. “Is she back in America?”

“Yeah. I don’t get to see her all that often, so I try to call her every day.”

It is so unfathomably sweet, sweet and… humanizing, as weird as that sounds. He’s not just an unbelievably handsome man with a jaw cut like a diamond and a five-star rating, according to Piper, he’s a person with a whole other life that she knows nothing about. It’s liberating, in its own way. She can make mistakes with him, and he’ll understand. He won’t judge her, not against his other clients, or even his other partners.

Swallowing, she slides the robe off her shoulders, slowly, achingly. Maybe he turned the heat up while she wasn’t looking, because all of a sudden, she feels hot all over, from her cheeks to her chest and down, and down. Maybe it’s all coming from him, from the heat of his gaze on her, his pink tongue coming out to wet his lips. She wants it, wants them, wants him, on her and in her and all over her.

But he stays on his side of the room, waiting for her to take the plunge.

She steps up to him, close but not touching, breathing in the heady, strong scent of him, raking her eyes up his body for a change. Even through his shirt, she can tell he’s fit, the exposed skin of his arms tanned a deep brown, thick, coarse, dark hair running up to his wrists. On his right arm, there is a black trident long and straight, crossed by an old, white scar. “What happened here?” she asks, lifting her hand to trace it, leaving visible goosebumps in its wake.

“Sailing accident,” he whispers. “Long time ago.”

There’d been a kid at her summer camp for troubled teens who’d gotten thrown off his boat and hurt like that, once. She remembered so vividly, because she’d been on infirmary duty that day, and all she could think about while wrapping up his arm was how fucking stupid he'd been, how he could have gotten himself really hurt, how badly she’d wanted to kiss him.

She'd moved across the country before she'd gotten the chance, though, and no one else had ever made her feel like that since. Until now. “Got any other ink to show me?”

But instead of answering, he leans down, and he kisses her.

She’s been kissed before. She’s never had sex, but she’s done some kissing in her life. It’s usually pretty awkward, in her experience, too much of one thing and never enough of another.

Nope, not Paris. Of course, he’s also a phenomenal kisser. Why she expected anything else, she’s not sure.

His hands come up to circle her neck again, his thumbs running against her cheekbones. He kisses her, pouring passion and intent into her, his mouth soft and sweet against hers. And then he slips her some tongue, and it’s a whole different ballgame.

“Take off your shirt,” she whispers into his mouth.

He does, effortlessly, without detaching himself from her. It’s a smooth, easy motion, and she is delighted to discover that he is as firm as she suspected he was, the muscles jumping under her touch.

Almost without her realizing it, he backs her up towards the bed, her knees hitting the edge of the mattress. He lays her out against the sheets, his bare chest hot against hers. “Before we go any further,” he says, and she can feel the vibrations of his voice all throughout her body, “tell me—have you ever made yourself come?”

She flushes at his words, the dirty talk which should sound stupid but instead comes out all sultry and sexy. “Yes,” she says, breath hitching as he nips at her neck. “Yes, I have.”

“Good.” He smiles into the skin of her collarbone, traveling down, and down, and down. “I want you to show me how.”

“Isn’t that,” she pants, “your job?”

“Hmm, you’re right.” He pushes her thighs apart with his shoulders, bright eyes staring up at her as he licks his lips. “Let me get to work, then.”

Breathing heavily, she curls her fingers into the ten thousand count sheets, eyes fixed on the ceiling pattern. She can’t look at the dark head between her legs, can only breathe in through her nose as he kisses up the skin of her thigh, higher and higher and higher until…

Jesus fucking lord almighty.

***

“I found the perfect guy for you.”

“Piper, come on.” Theses brunch dates of theirs were starting to get a little repetitive. “I let you set me up with a professional, but I draw the line at a blind date.”

“Have I steered you wrong yet, your highness?” Piper asks, knowing grin firmly on her face.

Annabeth blushes. So what if that night with Paris was the most incredible experience she’d ever had? Doesn’t mean she’s ready for a full-on relationship, yet. “No,” she says, rubbing her temples.

“Great!” Then she does something that Annabeth doesn’t expect—she starts packing up. “So he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, so bright it borders on painful, her nose scrunching up. “I invited him to brunch. But he’s really, really nice, I promise.”

“Does he know about—”

“No, he doesn’t, but if you wanted to spill, he’s a fantastic secret keeper.”

“How do you even know—”

Piper glances over Annabeth’s shoulder, eyes lighting up, waving a hand. “Friend of a friend of Jason, he’s a grad student at Cambridge, he’s doing his dissertation on naval history, so you know the king will love him.”

“Piper!” Annabeth half-calls, half-hisses at her friend as she stands up “Piper, you can’t just—”

“Hey,” says a voice behind her. A very familiar voice. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was joining us.” She turns around. Slowly. “Nice to meet you, I’m… Percy…” he trails off, sea green eyes widening behind a pair of thick, black glasses, beneath dark, curly hair. On his arm, a black trident stood out against his skin, straight and proud.

“Percy, meet Annabeth,” Piper says. “Annabeth, meet Percy. Okay, have fun you two!”

And she waltzes out of there, completely unaware of the absolute shitstorm she left in her wake.

#my fic #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #percy jackson #annabeth chase

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found--family · 4 years ago

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‘Supernatural’ season 15, episode 15 screener secrets: We’re ‘Highway to Heaven’-ing this bitch

[everything is from this Hypable article]

This week on Supernatural, Amara returns and are angels solving people crimes now? Hypable previewed Supernatural season 15, episode 15 “Gimme Shelter,” so read on to find out more.

After a sweet and fun return to ease us back into the world of Supernatural last week, things are heating up pretty dramatically – I knew there wouldn’t be much more time for messing around.

“Gimme Shelter” sees Supernatural dip its feet into what the Winchesters currently believe is their big plan – eliminating Chuck by also taking down Amara, resulting in what they believe will be a cosmic-being-free balanced world. But first, they have to find her. Sam and Dean get a pretty good lead on her location, which results in a very interesting conversation between Amara and the boys – especially with her most favoritest Dean, of course.

Meanwhile, Castiel is persuaded into taking Jack to investigate a nearby case in Missouri – which all three adults suspect is probably the work of a human criminal – for the sake of humoring Jack and keeping him both busy and supervised. On the way home, they have a very interesting conversation of their own.

Spoiler Warning: This article contains generalized spoilers for Supernatural season 15 episode 15, “Gimme Shelter.” If you do not wish to be spoiled at all, do not read this article in advance of the airdate.

The official synopsis for Supernatural season 15, episode 15 reads:

MATT COHEN DIRECTS — Castiel (Misha Collins) and Jack (Alexander Calvert) work a case involving members of a local church. Meanwhile, Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) go off in search of Amara (guest star Emily Swallow). Matt Cohen directed the episode written by Davy Perez (#1515). Original airdate 10/15/2020.

If you want to know what to expect from this week’s Supernatural, here’s 10 teasers plus 15 single word clues from our advance viewing of Supernatural season 15, episode 15 “Gimme Shelter.”

‘Supernatural’ season 15, [10] episode 15 screener secrets

1️⃣ During the filming of this episode (27 January – 5 February) Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles both spent much of the week at home with their families in Austin, a detail which was made clear on their and their wives’ public social media accounts – possibly the result of scheduled time off as they’ve mentioned occasionally requesting? The result is that the episode is weighted much more towards Cas, Jack and the murder investigation they’re chasing than towards Sam and Dean, but on the flip side, the Sam and Dean arc is more crucial to the long game of the show, so what it lacks in minutes, it makes up for in impact.

2️⃣ However, the episode still begins and ends in a grounded family group way, at home in the Bunker – one of those “we know we should be doing this together but there are Reasons we have to split up” situations. This detail, in my opinion, really speaks to the motivation of the creative team towards honoring the four leads as parts of a whole – in earlier days, this kind of episode would have been two entirely non-touching threads. This one is, if not a tapestry, at very least a braid – tied up together at both ends, and intertwined in the middle.

3️⃣ You might have seen pictures or ominous trailer footage of Castiel and Jack digging a hole at the crossroads. We all know what that means! However, don’t worry. They simply want to talk – and the demon they summon has some really interesting – and dare I say positive? – news about the state of Hell under Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Rowena. Let’s just say the demon is actually pretty friendly… and extremely bored.

4️⃣ The two main guest stars on Cas and Jack’s side of the episode are both actors who have been briefly featured on the show before, in a couple of pretty famous episodes – one from season 2 and one from season 5. I don’t think there’s meant to be any meta or Easter Egg element to this, just the usual Vancouver casting industry cycle (see the ‘Weren’t You In Another Episode‘ reference page on the SuperWiki) but one of them is one of those cute “I appeared on Supernatural as a child and now I’m here as an adult” situations, and the other, well… the original character’s very name has become the stuff of Supernatural legend, and if I were in charge of this episode I would have put the actor in a particular piece of footwear and made sure we got a shot of it, just for kicks.

5️⃣ Castiel steps into a prayer circle when the church group members are meant to give a testimony – presumably of their journey so far and their relationship with faith. That’s what Cas chooses to share, at least – in a non-specific, humanized way – and fans of the character will be moved to hear the ways he verbalizes his own growth.

6️⃣ Speaking of growth, some of Dean’s is spelled out for him in the most miraculous way by Amara. After Sam and Dean meet up with her and have a conversation about Chuck that’s ultimately a bit of a non-starter, Dean returns to ask her another, more personal question. Her response gave me legitimate chills. It’s a very weighty mic drop and the combination of the level of impact and the level of clarity (it’s entirely airtight, no room for interpretation) feels like the culmination of all the self-actualization work the show has been doing on Dean in the last four years. (I wish I could tell you Sam got a big special moment like this in the episode, but he doesn’t. Amara’s return was always going to be Dean’s thing.) Amara’s speech to Dean… it doesn’t feel isolated, like the idea of it was invented just for this episode. It feels more like concrete evidence of what the show has been trying to prove for ages. And the funny thing is, Amara is the anti-Chuck, right, and all season, we’ve learned about the version of the story Chuck thinks is good, and we’ve been told to root against that. Chuck’s version of Supernatural isn’t how the writers really feel. But I think Amara’s might be. Dean has obviously struggled to see what she tells him, all in one piece, but here it is – this was the point, laid out on the table, from the entity behind the curtain – both onscreen and off. Amara knew what she was doing, and so did the writers. This was always, always the point.

7️⃣ Even before this massive scene, Amara’s return is just great. Emily Swallow does such an incredible job with this character – she really is the anti-Chuck even without the whole writer comparison. Swallow imbues this character with such an incredible peace and stillness in comparison to Chuck’s histrionics – this was true in the way she spoke and behaved even in season 11, but this Amara also feels kindness and patience and tolerance. She radiates power, even when she’s also slightly goofy. There’s no fight, there’s no antagonism, but the boys in her presence are like little fish in a vast ocean – they quickly realise they have no real control in this conversation. The way that we leave her indicates she’ll be back and has more to say or do, and what she shared during her reunion with Sam and Dean makes me really curious about the role she’s due to play in the show’s endgame.

8️⃣ I’m not very religious but I really like the version of a church group or ‘faith-based community,’ as they say, featured in “Gimme Shelter.” Supernatural has a shaky history in terms of how the show portrays people in-universe who believe. Sometimes they’re treated like a joke, or stupid, or dangerous, or hypocrites, but occasionally civilian acts of faith are shown as great and powerful things, even in a world where we know that what they believe in isn’t strictly accurate. That concept became an even bigger question mark for me when we got the reveal that Judeo-Christian God is not only absent, but our actual villain. However, this was a really nice look at why faith can still be a framework for a good way of life – loving thy neighbor – for some people, no matter the truth about Chuck. The episode also features a callback to writer Davy Perez’ very first Supernatural episode “American Nightmare” in terms of the way that some people have weaponized faith and religion to the detriment and harm of others or even themselves, but this factor does not negate the positive point mentioned above.

9️⃣ Supernatural alum and newly minted director Matt Cohen really got the full old-school Supernatural episode experience when it comes to leaning into the spooky horror element. The murderous case-of-the week featured in this episode is heavy and lingering on the gore and even contains a little bit of a jump scare, so view responsibly.

🔟 So, um, you know that line, in this week’s teaser trailer? The line that a lot of people are freaking out about because it seems to pertain to something important that we know about Cas’ fate that Dean and Sam aren’t aware of? Yeah, it is 100% absolutely not about that at all. It is about something super important, but it’s not that. It’s also the last line of the episode, but trust me – it’s not a cliffhanger and it’s not a red herring and it’s not a twist. The information is gleaned within the episode and you’ll know exactly what Cas is telling Dean about after seeing it – narratively, that’s the reason it isn’t in the episode, because the show clearly assumes you’ll get the picture and can skip a rehash of information. But what you were probably expecting – maybe even hoping for – it’s not that. You’re gonna have to hang on for that one.

Finally, have 15 random yet significant words from this week’s episode without any context whatsoever: Gaia, Ronald, mother, pierogies, cats, philosophy, target, blind, permission, lockdown, Kool-aid, buffet, gift, trial, choice.

‘Supernatural’ airs Thursday at 8/7c on The CW

#spn s15 #teasers #spn 15x15 #Hypable #preview #thoughts #s15 #15x15 #this gets long as well as spoilery hence the /under the cut/#destiel

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just-random-obsessions · 5 years ago

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Funny Moments In Thor The Dark World

Find Thor 1 here

Find Avengers 1 here

This is the second part of me watching all three thor movies and the avengers movie and comparing the humor pre-ragnarok to the humor in the 3rd Thor movie. And, as before, I’m writing this on my computer where the I and U keys don’t work so sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Tag List: @nikkoliferous @fyrecrafted @lokijiro @miskiett @darthxerik @icyxmischief @iamanartichoke @juliabohemian @official-and-unstable-satan @melodylnoelle @just-another-human-2019 @fandomsfanfiction @mentallydatingahotcelebrity @cateyes315 @burningarbiterheart @imnotacreepijustlikeyou @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alexakeyloveloki

Official-and-unstable-satan and fandomsfanfiction weren’t tagged sry

Anyone who wants to be added/removed to the tag list please let me know! and if I missed someone please also let me know. Sorry this post is so long

~ “Hello Mother. Have I made you proud?”

~ “Please don’t make things worse” “Define worse”

~ “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about”

~ “Just like you”

~ *That smile!!!!*

~ “I’ve got this completely under control!” “Is that why everything’s on fire?”

~ *About the Scary MonsterTM: “All yours”

~ *Thor says hi to the Big Scary MonsterTM*

~ “I accept your surrender”

~ “Anyone else?” *All the people simultaneously: NOPE*

~ “Perhaps next time we should START with the big one”

~ *Odin obviously shipping Thor and Jane* (idk I got a kick out of this)

~ *Jane awkwardly avoiding her date*

~ *Date: hi*

~ *Him awkwardly talking about his ex*

~ “And the fact that she kept sleeping with other men” “NO!”

~ *Darcy being mistaken for a waitress*

~ *Darcy mouthing “Cute” to Jane about Richard*

~ *Darcy embarrassing Jane by talking about Thor*

~ “Is there a point to all of this cause there REALLY needs to be a point to all of this”

~ “That’s what I said!”

~ “That’s what I did!”

~ “He’s not interested” “I’m interested” (Am I the only one who feels like his awkwardness was actually kinda cute?)

~ “He’s my intern.” “You have an intern?”

~ *Intern is fucking adorable like Richard*

~ “I have totally mastered driving in London!” *Has not mastered it at all*

~ *Selvig running around Stonehenge naked*

~ *Darcy keeps calling Ian ‘Intern’*

~ *Darcy calls Jane cause she didn’t wanna shout*

~ God I fucking love Darcy she’s so criminally underrated

~ “I am not getting stabbed in the name of science”

~ “It’s okay, we’re Americans!” “Is that supposed to make them like us?”

~ “We’re scientists-well I am” “Thanks”

~ “That doesn’t seem right”

~ “I wanna throw something! Jane give me your shoe!”

~ *Jane ignores Darcy*

~ “Give me your shoe”

~ “Were those the car keys?”

~ *Ian’s face when he realizes he threw the car keys to another planet*

~ *If you have to bury so many people then you’re doing something wrong you hot dumb fuck* (I mean that’s basically what Heimdall said right?)

~ “Typical” *after being left behind while Jane goes to talk to her boyfriend*

~ *Jane! Love of my life and most talented and beautiful person in the world oh how I love yo-SLAP*

~ “As excuses go, its not terrible”

~ “I know” “You do?” “Do what?”

~ *Darcy interrupts the KissTM*

~ “Um I’m pretty sure we are getting arrested”

~ “How’s space?” “Space is fine”

~ “He’s my intern… My intern’s intern”

~ “Holy shit!” (after Jane went up in the Bifrost)

~ *Heimdall calmly dodges the car*

~ “We have to do that again”

~ “Hello”

~ “What’s that?”

~ “It’s a soul forge” *No I’m pretty sure that’s a quantum field generator*

~ *Jane being ready to fight Odin for comparing her to a goat*

~ “You told your dad about me?”

~ “It must be so inconvenient, them asking about me day and night”

~ “Please meet my mother” *Jane shies away from Thor*

~ Loki casually tossing the thingamajig in the air like the cute little shit he is

~ Lord, he’s so damn pretty

~ *Kurse being like: Lol I ain’t touchin’ that boy with a ten foot pole*

~ “It’s as if they resent being in prison”

~ “There’s no pleasing some creatures”

~ *Loki calmly reading a book while all Hel breaks loose*

~ “You have my word that no harm will come to yo-” nvm bitch die

~ *THAT look between Sif and Jane*

~ *Frigga immediately seeing through Odin’s bs lies*

~ *Heimdall: I have defeated the big space ship!! The bigger one behind him: Bitch you thought*

~ “WITCH!!!!” *Now I know who Loki gets his amazing aforementioned smile from*

~ *Selvig using shoes to explain complicated science*

~ *Selvig then using pencils*

~ “Any questions?” “Yeah, can I have my shoe back?”

~ “What’s SHIELD?” “It’s a secret”

~ *Darcy’s cute af face when she sees that Selvig is in the mental hospital*

~ “Are you sure you wouldn’t just rather punch your way out?”

~ *Loki shapeshifting into the guard*

~ “Mmm Brother, you look ravishing”

~ “Costumes a bit much”

~ “So tight!”

~ “I can FEEL the righteousness surging!!”

~ “HEY wanna have a rousing discussion about truth?”

~ “Honor?”

~ “Patriotism?”

~ “GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

~ “At last. A little common sens-”Bitch are you really fucking kidding me? (What do you mean that’s not what he said?)

~ “I thought you liked tricks”

~ “I’m Loki, you may have heard of-” SLAP

~ “That was for New York”

~ “I like her”

~ *Loki gazing lovingly at Jane in the background*

~ “Betray him, and I’ll kill you.” “It’s good to see you too Sif”

~ “If you even think about betraying him-” “You’ll kill me? Evidently there will be a line”

~ “I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing.” “I said how hard can it be?”

~ “Whatever your doing brother I suggest you do it faster.” “Shut up Loki

~ “You must’ve missed something.” “I didn’t, I’m pressing every button on this thing”

~ “Well don’t hit it. Just press it, gently.” “I aM pReSsInG iT gEnTlY AND ITS NOT WORKING!!!”

~ *Thor starts slamming buttons and it starts working*

~ *Volstagg: Oh fighting is much fun- OH SHIT IM FALLING!! HELP!!!*

~ “I think you missed a column.” “Shut up”

~ “Why don’t you let me take over? I’m clearly the best pilot”

~ *Bitch I’m the one who can actually fly*

~ “Oh dear. Is she dead?”

~ *Thor knocks over a column* “Not a word”

~ “Now they’re following us”

~ “Now they’re firing at us”

~ “Yes thank you for the commentary Loki, it’s not at all distracting”

~ “Well done, you just decapitated your grandfather”

~ *Seriously, whoever wrote the escape scene is a genius!!!*

~ *Loki yelling at Thor about how thIs was a bad idea you dumb fuck- wait wtf are you doing AAAAHHHHH!!!!1*

~ “You lied to me. I’m impressed”

~ *That smile again snfnejaihfeqrqrsbdsalxdjewonjfeq*

~ “For Asgard!” YEET

~ “Nothing personal boys!”

~ “If it were easy, everyone would do it”

~ “Are you mad?” “Possibly”

~ “TADAAA”

~ “Oh yeah, my father. Eric Selvig”

~ “And these” “yeah… those”

~ “How did you find me?” “You were naked on television”

~ “I don’t get paid enough. I don’t get paid at all”

~ “What’s happening? Birds? Birds are happening?”

~ “All right are you ready?” “I am”

~ *phone rings* “It’s not me”

~ “Why are there so many shoes in here?”

~ “I’ll just text her”

~ “So who’s Richard?”

~ *Thor hanging his hammer on a coat hanger*

~ “Where are your pants?” “Oh he says it helps him think”

~ “Loki is dead” “Oh thank God!”

~ “Better get my pants”

~ “Do you even know what these things do?” “No” “…Neither do I”

~ “Ooh get the guy with the sword!”

~ “Oops”

~ *Ian’s high-pitched scream*

~ *Does car insurance cover My Car Was Sucked Into Another Planet Due To A Cosmic Event That Only Occurs Once Every 5000 Years or no?*

~ *Thor and Malekith fighting between worlds and poor little Mjolnir trying to keep up*

~ *The two of them against windows*

~ *AAAHHH*

~ *Awww! Look at the cute little Jotunheim monster! He’s so adorable I wanna pet him so much!’

~ *Darcy and Ian kissing after he saved her life*

~ “Darcy?” “Jane!” “Ian?” “Selvig.”

~ “Myuh Myuh!!”

~ *Thor ends up on the subway*

~ *The girl taking 50 photos*

~ *Thor and the woman colliding into eachother*

~ “I’ve come to accept your surrender”

~ *Malekith gets crushed by his own ship. Now that’s some lovely karma right there*

~ *Darcy and Ian go back to kissing*

~ “He kinda committed treason on our way out” oops

~ Jotunheim Puppy chasing birds

Wow I’m so sorry this was so long. But guess what? It’s gonna get even longer. Sorry, again.

So one of the differences between the first and second Thor movies is that Thor 2 has humor in the climax whereas Thor 1 doesn’t. This is because of the differences with who is the villain. In Thor 1, Thor is having to fight his brother. To quote Avengers, they “played together and fought together” for several millennia. Of course there’s not going to be any humor in it cause there shouldn’t be. The climax at the end of the movie isn’t supposed to be some epic battle between the forces of Good TM and Bad TM. It’s supposed to be tragic that he’s having to fight his own brother because Loki lost his mind due to so many factors. The last joke in the film is “You’re an amazon liar brother, always have been” “It’s good to have you back”. There’s nothing else till the end credit scene. That’s because Kenneth Branagh knew that this was supposed to be viewed at as being sad a hopeless, not some awesome upbeat battle.

Thor 2 on the other hand, is exactly that. Thor has known Malekith for.. what? 2 days? Maybe 3? His relationship and dynamic with Malekith is different than with his brother. To Thor, this is just another enemy attacking Asgard. And I’m not sure whether this was intentional or not (because I remember reading somewhere how Allen Taylor had a bitch of a time in the editing process so I think the movie came out different than he intended) but the lack of any personal relationship will Malekith means the film can make really funny jokes and still have it fit with the film. If anything, I might even argue that the humor helped the film to maintain a very nice positive vibe. Idk I can’t think of the right words to explain it but the jokes actually fit the film very well.

However, then we move on to Ragnarok. With Ragnarok, Thor is fighting his sister. While (just like Malekith) he has only known her for two days, that still doesn’t take away the fact that he is having to fight his sibling. And I’m not a film director but if I had the option of approaching this situation and taking it the Thor 1 route or the the Thor 2 route, I’d go with Thor 1. Because it’s actually incredibly tragic that Hela has been driven to insanity like Loki (though ok a different level) due to Odin’s shitty parenting. She is the horrible way she is because Odin made her that way. And that could’ve been an AMAZINGLY complex story with the audience feeling so much sympathy for Hela like we did with Loki in Thor 1, but the narrative just falls flat for two reasons. 1) Taika admitted he didn’t want the film to be emotionally complex so 2) The humor in the climax completely detracts from the seriousness of the situation.

Also, some side notes: Yes, this is edited from the original. I accidentally deleted everything and then had to go back and add everything back in. So I also had to re-tag people too. And I also added a bit more explanation at the end. I meant to do so when I originally posted but it never got done till now. Sry. Also sry that it’s so long

#dr badass jane foster #anti ragnarok #anti thor ragnarok #my meta #thor the dark world #thor 2 #thor #loki

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dahniwitchoflight · 6 years ago

Text

Candy 22-23

hmm, interesting, so 5 minutes of Terezi time equals about 2 weeks of John time?

What’s the math on that, how many minutes are in a week? 10,080? Neat.

what’s that divided by 5? 2016?

so time is moving almost 2000 times faster for John than it is for Terezi?

a Day for Terezi is literally 5 and a half Years for John by that Math.

All of John’s conversations have been happening over the course of not even 2 full days for Terezi so far, and by John’s estimation that she only ever messages every year or so

that turns out to be like, every 260 minutes for Terezi?? If my math is correct? (525,600 minutes / 2016 = 260 minutes = 4.333... hours)

4 and 1/3 hours.

oh my god, Terezi and John talk literally every 4 hours and 20 minutes that’s hilarious they turned 413 into a 420 weed joke that’s amazing

I wonder if Terezi takes his convo’s seriously or just think it’s an extended prank that their both neck deep in at this point? I mean, they joke with eachother a lot and he literally messages her what seems from her point of view, literally every 4:20 (Trolls understand weed jokes because I said so and because it’s funny)

Does he ever send her pic’s of what they all look like as adults? Does she think it’s badly like, photoshopped or something like what she used to do with Dave?

Or does she really know? Either way is interesting to be honest

Wait, did Gamzee make out Jake’s/Jane’s son Tavros?? Why is John so nonchalant about that?

or is it a different Tavros???

I’m confused, or maybe not, John’s going straight into a line that says take Tavros away from his family. what the fuck is Gamzee doing.

So I guess this is what happens to all non canon timelines? They get torn to shreds by the inevitable cosmic background blender that is the giant black hole thing in Meat?

Oh god Jane made a crockership, yeah we’re in the nosedive of all of Jane’s unsavoury tendencies made manifest

we don’t need a tiara here, this was carefully manifested and nurtured to happen by another guy who all fell into the worst version of himself

Sad to see karkat and dave seperated too, but interesting karkat finally got fed enough enough to lead a resistance

this friend circle is really going down the shits

but then again, kind of was to be expected, i mean, it’s not like they were all actually friends, there wasn’t really much of an extended friend circle for the alpha kids. its a stretch to even say John and Jane were close friends because they didn’t really have much interaction with each other either

Jane and Jake is pretty much a lost cause, Dirk is dead and also encouraging her downfall, and Roxy is totally accepting of everything around her for better or worse, and Calliope and Jane were never close not to mention Calliope seems content to just follow Roxy everywhere

there’s literally no one actually close enough to Jane to have an actual “i care about you’re my friend” conversation with that would actually feel genuine, so it’s kind of inevitable she’d end up like this in this sort of situation with no one to help her steer her course

John’s getting desperate to feel some sense of reality again, that picture of Terezi is almost like an anchor in the storm

he’s only attached to his reality because of his personal investment into it, like he’s too deep in it now to ever escape, not because he really truly cares and is happy I think but because he’s put so much effort into making this all work

Also damn, he’s really gonna kidnap Tavros, but i mean like, I don’t blame him if apparently his sort of father clown figure has been making out with him as part of a religious cult nonsense i hope im interpreting that wrong but he literally says PBandJ again and says Tavros, so like, who else could he mean

Fake redemption nonsense finally going down the toilet where it belongs

but damn, John’s gonna start a war I can see it now, this is gonna pop Jane’s cork and for all we know she could easily use it as an excuse to attack trolls by blaming the kidnapping on them

You know what is so interesting about this though?

Jane was raised by the condesce, and feared alternian society like it was inherent to trollkind

but here she is displaying that same tyranny in the name of humanity, it does a good job of showing this bullshit isn’t inherent to any person or race

but man, it is ironic how much of a mini Condesce Jane is becoming, complete with her own Grand High Blood too, while fighting what she probably considers tyrannical trollkind

It’s cute how Harry talks in a lighter Roxier shade of blue though, unfortunately due to the name I can imagine anything except Harry Potter being their actual child, Harry Anderson as a figure means nothing to me even though I know the reference and the picture that shows up in Homestuck I get the joke

Maybe it’s because it’s also Roxy’s child and she always had a thing for wizards so

Tavros talking in a dark purple is less endearing, because it so clearly shows that despite supposedly being a product of love between Jane and Jake, Gamzee as a weird third interloper has entirely taken over this family

Gamzee being the auspistice for Jane and Jake doesn’t sound good. Weird that he’s seen as like an Uncle figure too. This family is messed up to hell.

mmm.. I don’t think Jake and Jane are in a kismesis...

*UPSETTING CHILD ABUSE CONTENT AHEAD*

I don’t like how uncomfortable Tavros seems to be with an uncle figure taking him up to his bedroom im getting all kinds of bad child abuse vibes, not from john god no but like, Tavros seems so expectant of something to happen and that’s not pairing well with what Gamzee has apparently been doing

“Tavros sighs, his facial expression unchanging. He looks resigned. To life in general, as well as whatever it is he’s expecting from this particular situation. Wait... what is he expecting from this situation, having been led away to a secluded part of the house by an adult? What has he been taught to expect?“

I don’t like this. John please kidnap the child. Even though it’s going to start a war.

No I don’t like where this is going this is getting a big gigantic NOPE for me

Oh fuck okay, so it hasn’t happened yet, big relief there

but almost, still warning sirens going off in my head because

“JOHN: TRAIN you???

TAVROS: Yes,

TAVROS: In matters of combat,,, philosophy,,, life,,, love,,,

TAVROS: I suppose to behave the way a mentor does, as he sees it,,,”

WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT GAMZEE BEING A DIRK GAUGE

Is “Combat, Philosophy, Life, Love” just like symbolism for the four shitty ingredients of Lord English symbolically mixed together? Like yeah they don’t all sound bad when you put it that way but really it’s like

Combat = Physical Abuse = Caliborn

Philosophy = Religious Cult = Gamzee

Love = Obsession = Equius

Life = Dominance and Power = Dirk

Every shitty part of the LE soul combo contributes something bad to the whole

uh oh, they’ve been found out by Jade

Jade’s not exactly gonna throw him to the big bad wolf, but is she just gonna disagree with his actions? Or is she gonna try to stop him.

or argue? argue’s good, sure, not really but sure

Everyone knows Jane’s gone to shit, but everyone’s too cowardly to stand up to her and tell her she’s wrong

oh shit, speaking of

oh, well, that didn’t go how i wanted it to

John got so close to saying something that could break through to Jane, but Karkat was right, she couldn’t get her head out of her ass long enough to listen to what was being said to her, and instead immediately jump to conclusions about what she thinks people are talking about

she probably think everyone hates her suddenly because of her political ideas and thinks its ridiculous thats everyones getting so mad at her for it, head so far up the ass she should be turning into a fourth dimensional pretzel by now

even though this could have all have been avoided if someone just had enough bravery to nip it in the bud, so instead of angry raze the ground retaliatory action she could have just been embarassed and angry in the personal and then gotten over it in a few weeks

but nope, genocidal war in the works now

oof

just big oof

gotta say though, I’m sitting practically eating gigantic mounds of popcorn at the drama (Besides the one part that was implying gamzee was sexually abusing tavros before they made it clear he wasn’t, I could do without that one honestly)

other than that though, loving the drama, feel bad for the people getting the shit end of the sticks though

#Homestuck #Meat or Candy

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ain-t-bovvered · 6 years ago

Text

14x10 Commentary

Zeta and Giuls scream together, and then die.

Me & Zeta will watch together season 14′s episodes as they come out and we’ll do our commentary while watching.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

14x10 Nihilism

-I did not want to see Jack like that again thanks

Zeta: true

- And there was a need for some wings there honestly .

[ comes back crawling]

HERE

Zeta: the bar sceeeene

-.....THAT’S A DAMN SQUIRREL WITH A AVIATOR CAP ON ( also I re wrote squirrel four times before getting it right)

- MOOSE!!!

-......The Moose has a tag with “FAMILY BUSINESS” written on it----lol Jensen

Zeta: What’s her name

- PAMELAAAAAAAA . Damn woman I went a bit Bi there

Zeta: OH YES.

- [Music: and I’m searching for a rainbow] .....WOW

-[on the counter] Daphne loves Fred.

my monkey dirty brain: Daddy loves tips.

-hot. want that.

Zeta: the tequila or the bartender?

Bitch please . both.

- D: “ What are we, savages?”

Zeta: Oh the lips

-Cosmic Cowboy. *chokes*

-FB

-why is it always a ghoul case?

-Lol but who’s the drunk guy tho

Zeta: Bitch, look at her biceps

- some Bi slippage there too I see. FOCUS

Zeta: also indeed. Who is he?

-D:”I’ve never had anything this nice”

Also....I would be like Dean if I had a bar. One for the costumer and one for me! woohoo .

- D: “How come you always have a boyfriend?”

P: “How come you always want what you can’t have?”

[looks into the camera like in the office]

- D: “This is my dream”

I kinda see it tho....old grumpy Dean Winchester being the Bobby while running a bar like that. Yes....I like it.

- I knew it . I wanna see someone closed behind that “closet” *wink wink*

Zeta: Oh oh

Zeta: the slo mo.

-NICE .You are welcome for this gif where I let you enjoy the full over the count jump. Nice healthy middle age man over the fence jump ( nevermind this is an italian oil ad ).

-The blood. So cute

Zeta: I’m famous

- mmm

Zeta: shit

-Hello M boi, I missed you fam

Zeta: Changed clothes

- OMFG are you saying that the Archangel Michael macVanity von DramaQueen really just angel mojo changed into his Peaky Blinder wanna be in front of them?

He’s so flamboyant , I love him .

Zeta: The close up

- M making three men kneel with so much as lift his hands. WHAT A MOOD. WHERE CAN I GET THAT? I WANT 10.

- M : “ I saw everything” Yeah no shit we kinda see that coming too

-DoN ‘T IntERrUPt mE

Zeta: Don’t interrupt me

-I’m-

I’m so bothered right now. Dom Michael for the win

-OH WOW

- Sam just “assbutted” Michael lol.

Castiel : Sam....did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?

Sam: uh ....No?

- HE ANGRY

- Dean’s not home right now...

Zeta: Please leave a message

*giggling* I love him

Zeta: His voice GOD DAMN

-yes

- Castiel hair tho.

Zeta: Do you? Cocky much

-but needs to play it cool. Can’t risk to mess up the pomaded hair.

- S:” We the angel cuffs on , Michael is under control”

M: “Keep telling yourself that “ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

I *clap* LOVE *clap* HIM *clap*

- S: “Dump him in the trunk of the Impala” ... DUMP HIM .ahahahahaah

-Garth is in the trunk

Zeta: it’s a big trunk

-M: “ It’s a party!”

- J: “ It’s not like any of us can fly”

M : “ Well one of us can”

S: “ STFU”

- J:” Sam, are we gonna die here?” ... wow Jack...babe...stfu

-Yes OMG I forgot about the stalky reaper

Zeta: You mess up so many things

- it ain’t wrong

- [in john Mulaney’s Trump voice] we locked Death away and enslaved the reapers

Zeta: Poor Cas

- ok but WHO....death? Michael is asking himself that too.

-Yes , put him in the dungeon. HOT

Zeta: shit

-I can hear you

Zeta: Shit

-Ahahahahahaahah

Zeta: SHIT

-I’m loving this

Zeta: Bring back Crowley.

Zeta: We left Garth in the trunk looool

- that....everytime we don’t see a character for long that’s it...they are in the trunk.

Zeta: Castiel

-CASTIEL . so strange, I love him, he’s such a sarcastic asshole.

- M: “Yes, uh, put a chair against the door”

Zeta: This pretty smile as I rip you apart

-I’M SHAKING. YAS.

Zeta: Control yourself

- S: “Cass this is all we’ve got”

Zeta: Again?

- well it is a loop.

-MORE SHOTS. (me)

Zeta: The only thing missing is “heat of the moment”

- what if the woman is his conscience trying to get him out and if he sign he’s out? ...like....testing his resolution?

-Little insulting

Zeta: you’re nothing

Zeta: Why is he so perfect in this?

- J: “Dean---is strong”

M *disgusted face*: “ Is a gnat “ . WOW

-OH SHUT UP OOOOH

Zeta: Emotional abuse.

- M: “ he was not happy, but he didn’t care-- Cause you are not Sam, you are not Cass.”

[ me looking smiling to the Castiel/Misha hateclub]

-M: “You are a weak helpless thing”

- Jack , babe ....get away tho

Zeta: LISTEN TO YOUR DAD

- M: “no I’m not and I can still hear you”

Zeta: Prick

- Love that prick..... literally

- I care so little for the others I swear

- M: “Look at you, play nursemaind for a nephilim”

-C: “You are confusing loyalty and compassion for weakness”

Zeta: Damn what am I watching?

- [looks into the camera like in the office] Sexual tension

Zeta: so done. this. Close up

- M “and now...that I’m in here, I know why”

-CHUCK

Zeta: He churn our draft after draft

- M speaks like he’s singing and mocking you at the same time. He has this musicality in his speak and I love it

- C: “Why would he do that?”

M: “BECAUSE HE DOESN’T CARE!”

- good lord I swear all the angels are just brats throwing temper tantrum because they have a trash dad.

- M: “But now , I just want to burn every one of his little worlds until I catch up to the Old man”

Zeta: Even god can die.

- oh ok....overachiever much

Zeta: Hurt Jack

- No no Jack babe...keep your fucking soul .

Zeta: Cool science project

- Michael’s mind: if you mess up my perfectly combed hair Cass I swear-

- M: “ I give it a solid B- .....uh oooh”

me nervously: .....wtf lol

- M: *snorts* Oh Cass, I believe in you.

So rude...so nasty

- j: “ What should I do?”

Zeta: Pray

-Thanks Cas, that’s-......that’s great

Zeta: You are all mine

- ..... YESSIR TAKE ME

Zeta: Dean’s mind.

- ..... if it was a funny episode they could have made so many jokes about being empty lol.

- me looking around haters mind ^

Zeta: This is what you are gonna become

-omg

- THAT WAS DEAN IN HELL.

- Dean’ “NOOOO “ at Castiel death is vibrating into my bones.

- S: “Dean is strong”

- C: “Sam, we’ve been through a lot and Dean is more than strong”

- S: “Dean thrive on trauma.”

WE’VE BEEN KNEW

Zeta: Smart moose

- Somebody has been reading some meta tumblr posts

- P: “You really know how to talk to a lady don’t you?”

me already at Castiel’s feet : wha

- That’s us fans watching 14 seasons of supernatural ^

-Bloody Cass is 100. *licks lips*

- P: “get me a shot. With your braaaain”

Zeta: Well hello.

- C:” That was- that....DeAN ThAt WaS An ACcidENT”

Zeta: Babyyyy

- them baby faces

- C:” WE NEED YOU TO COME BACK”

- S:”POUGHKEEPSIE”

- Dean’s mind : [ old modem sounds]

-M [Slow clap it out.] : Hey Fellas

-AND THE HAT IS BACK

Zeta: I’m you

Zeta: He gripped you tight and raised you from perdition

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH I’M DYING SO BAD.

-BITCH I’M DEAD AND GIGGLING I CAN’T.

-but also....but the fuck is Mary at?... like wow.

- also....everything that Micheal is saying right now is causing me actual fucking pain.

- Ok and both Sam and Cas faces? well thanks

Zeta: He’s buying time

-WOW. Slow smile, oooooH

-S: “So in here, you are all talk”

- oh that’s why he doesn’t use his powers. Serviceable .

Zeta: So happy. Fuck

Zeta: Prove it

- Um...yes hello 911?

Michael getting his hands dirty is too hot for me.

-Fucking Tiger man.

-Come on baby

Zeta: Jack will do something “stupid”

- Well he is his parents’ son *shrug*

Zeta: that

- D:” Then we don’t kick him out, we keep him in”

-oooooh M goes in the closet, lol

Zeta: Oh my god.

- ....Well that was stupid AHAHAHAAH

- I can’t stop laughing .

- M [ROAR]

me: ....

Zeta: I’m the cage.

-HE IS THE CAGE. That doesn’t seem right tho...come on.

Zeta: So now Dean has Michael locked up

-ooooh the magic hurt him. Forgot about that. My baby.

Zeta: Concerned Dad.

- The way Cass say : “you understand?” killed me....so soft...so worried...

- The little smile! Kill me now.

Zeta: He’s not ok.

-Dean is not ok.

Zeta: [henley alert]

-He’s like....naked. ( still has another tshirt under it tho)

-Oh he’s mad

- I’M CRYING . HE LOOKS LIKE MY CAT WHEN I REFUSE TO LET HIM OUT .

amazing.

( Sorry for the not that clear gifs but I wanted to cut and past all the bits of that because it’s amazing)

Zeta: He’s suffering so much.

-That troat

- That door is not that sturdy tho

Zeta: Oh hell no

- oh hello death .

-Aw hell naw.

- Death :” Except one”

-AW HELL NAW

Zeta: Which one?

- UGH

Zeta: No

-NO

Zeta: NOOO so much hurt

-OH FUCK

Zeta: Actual literal pain in my chest

YA KNOW WHAT?....I DON’T LIKE THAT LOOK .

NOT ONE BIT.

- lol I don’t even wanna look at tumblr now

Zeta: well you know me....I have

- of course you did

post gifs comment: I didn’t do my crack gifs for now, but they will be done in a separate post.

If you want to get tagged in the future ones send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @destiel-honeypie @mariekoukie6661 @dragontamerm @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @mattiecat @bunnybaby121115 @aliaitee @jacks-word-of-the-day @4evamc

#spn episode commentary #commentary #nihilism #14x10 #spn 14x10 #supernatural 14x10 #14x10 commentary #spn gifs

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dutifully-secret-bouquets-stuff · 6 years ago

Text

A little Kastle I want to work on....

“I gotta walk out of here, Karen. And you can’t do it with me.”

His words play over and over in my head, a constant reminder that he had chosen a other war. Frank had chosen another life that I could not be a part of. He didn’t want me. And no matter how hard I try to pretend that he did it to keep me safe, the ache in my chest is a reminder me that it was not the case.

His pleading eyes haunt me, and every time I blink I can see his face. Bruises and cuts, scars from a fight with Russo. His eyes red rimmed and swollen, begging me to understand his choice, and of course I did. I knew what Frank had to do, and why he was doing it. He could not live without a fight, no matter how much I wanted it be different. No matter how many times I begged for an “after” his choice would always be the same. But even knowing this, I had searched in his warm eyes for a maybe, a fleeting hope, that maybe after this was over we could figure it out together. Searching for an admission, that,yes, he wanted an after that included me. But all I could see was pain, and a lingering longing. Longing for peace, redemption, for his family. Frank’s eyes were those of a broken man. A man with nothing to lose. Because really, what more could he lose? His whole family was gone, and his best friend had betrayed him.

So I walked away, made sure that Frank knew that I would never stand in his way. With my heart breaking and a lump in my throat, I stepped aside. No matter how much it broke my heart, I would respect his choice, even if in the process, my whole life came tumbling down.

Even as my heart cried out to him, my breath came a little quicker, and tears rimmed my eyes, I would do anything to help and protect the Punisher no matter how much I was hurting. So I left my shoes behind, and the hope that Frank would ever want a normal life.

But even still, I remember the elevator shaft, the way his blodied body felt against my forhead. Like time stood still to grant us one moment of peace, one moment together. So the more his last words repeated in my head, the more I try to convince myself that the longing in his eyes was not for me. That my touch had no effect in him. That if we would have gotten more time...maybe…

I have to convinve myself that Frank Castle feels nothing because I cannot keep tearing myself apart wishing for a future that will never be a possibility. I have to believe that Frank sees me only as Karen Page, paralegal, journalist, and nothing else. Maybe that way I can cope with the rejection. Maybe that way the sting will fade a little quicker. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I walk away from the chaos, I walk, and walk until the hospial alarms are only a faint echo in the distance. I turn to look at the police cars and ambulances that rush to the place I was escaping, and with one last glance, I mumble, “Goodbye, Frank.” Quickly turn and pray that Frank has made it out alive. That Madani’s plan worked, that the police uniform was enough. I hope, and wish that Frank, and the girl, Amy, are safe.

Involuntarily I shiver, and I run a hand up and down my… Ow! I gasp as soon as my had made contact with my right elbow. The fire extinguisher, I remebered. And as I take a peek at my hand I see the blood, and internally curse. Shit. Crimson bubbles from the gash on my hand. Blood pools in my palm. I gingerly poke at the cut and wince. It is a deep wound, I might need stiches, I laugh. Oh the irony, I think, leaving a hospial, only to need it a few minutes later. If this incident did not completely sum up my life, I would have laughed. But life has a funny way of making me realize that my life is a mess. That everything I touch, not matter my intentions, always blows up in my face, sooner or later.

I look at my hand covered in blood, and I follow the drops that are running down, and landing on the ground with a plop.

I tilt my had, and all the accumulated liquid rushes to the floor. As the blood continues its decent, my feet become warm and sticky.

“Mom, look! That lady has blood all over. Is she okay?!” a shrill voice calls out.

“Kevin,” the mom, I guess, calls out. “Get away from her.”

Kevin’s name snaps me out of my daze. I look around, and a crowd has gathered around to spectate the freak show that Karen Page has become.

“Sorry,” my right hand goes up in an attemp of apology.

“You are still bleeding, miss.”

Yep, that I am. Still bleeding. So I do the first thing I can think of. I untuck my blouse, and press the silky fabric against my injured hand. I hiss at the contact, and within seconds my hem is coated with blood. Turning away from the crowd I frantically search for my car.

Jesus Karen, get yourself together, I scold myself. Where did I park? Oh yes, I remember. So I run to my car, and as I get closer, I fumble inside my purse for the keys. I fish them out with my right had, and jump inside.

Once inside, I search for a bandage, anything. And of course, I find nothing. So I do the only rational thing, I rip the bottom of my shirt. The silk comes undone in a second, and as best as I can, I wrap my pounding hand. Blood drowns the white.

With my hand wrapped and delt with, I lean towards the passenger seat and find my running shoes. I dust my feet, and jam those babies in. At least I got a good use out of them.

I feel much better. Karen Page, full of blood, and with no socks, how is that for a cosmic joke.

As I laugh at how much the universe hates me, my phone rings.

Frank I immediately think. And without looking at the caller ID, I answer. “Hello?”

I expect to hear the gravel voice that is Frank, I am momentarily taken aback when the one who answers is Matt.

“Karen, hi. Where are you?”

“Hey Matt,” I sigh.

“Karen, are you okay? Where are you?” Fear fills his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I try to sound reassuring.

His tone shifts slightly once he hears that I am okay. “Well you missed lunch with me and Foggy, and you were not answering your messages” - “or mine,” Foggy chimed. - “then we saw the news about the hospital and…”

I cut him off, “Matt, I am fine, I just forgot, and my phone was on silent,” I lie, “but I will be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

“You forgot, why? Is there someth….”

“See you later,” I say before hanging up.

I take a deep breath to calm down my serves, and without a second thought start the engine. I drive for what it seems to be hours, with Frank still in my head. The more distance between us the more my chest hurts. The more I wish he were here. I take a other left, and I am greeted with Nelson, Murdock, & Page painted in white letters on the glass door of our new offices.

It is not big change, but it is an upgrade from our old offices. Looking at the new letters, I momntarily remember how I got here. I see myself with Matt and Foggy being payed witn chickens, and how then my investigating skills with Frank’s case, one way or another everything leads back to Frank, earned me a spot in The Bulletin, and how that we to shit when I failed Ben. And now here I am again, right back where I started.

Without another thought about my shitty life, I climb out of my car, carefully as to not touch my hand, and head for the door. The smell of drying paint assaults my nostrils. God, we really need some airfreshners, I think.

“Hi Ms. Page, good to see … Ms. Page, are you okay?” Samantha, our part time office manager, questions.

“Yeah, great. I’ll be in Matt’s office.”

“But, Ms. Page…” Sam hesitates.

I ignore the worry in her voice, and follow the smell of food. Once infront of Matt’s office, I lift my chin, and open the door. Inside are Matt and Foggy, enjoying Chinese take out. And man, it smells delicious.

“Damn, that smells fantastic. I hope there’s some for me.” At the sound of my voice two heads turn to me. They take in my state, and Foggy’s eyes widen.

“What?” I say.

The first to speak is Matt.

“Karen, oh Karen.”

“What Matt?” I counter.

“Well for starters you smell of blood, and from what I didn’t hear, you aren’t wearing your heels. In fact you are wearing sneakers with no socks. Does that sound about right, Foggy?” Matt turns to Foggy, expecting a response.

“How did you realize that I wasn’t wearing… Right, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” I chuckle.

Foggy cannot say anything, he is frozen in place. A look of utter horror plastered on his face. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, and his eyebrows up to his forhead. It was quite a sight, except for the fact that it was me he was looking at.

#kastle fanfiction #kastle ff #kastle #karen page #frank castle x karen page #frank castle #matt murdock #foggy nelson #the punisher #mcu #netflix #s2 #frank x karen #hope you like it #i tried #tell me #what

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margarittet · 7 years ago

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Sam “Men of Words” Winchester supporting his brother Dean “I struggle with words” Winchester.

This is a theme this season. Dean (and Sam, Cas) vs communication. (Actually, it started last season.)

Dean constantly confuses “we” with “I”, mixes “need” with “want” and “love”, gets the words wrong (it’s pronounced ca-pi-chu-lum, Dean!), and is in pain even thinking about books (“aka the written word”), but he has no problems analyzing facts and reports, and pictures, and data, and numbers and everything else.

Dean uses post it notes (aka a tool of communication, albeit simple communication), but turns them into a joke, puts them where Sam can’t read them, and in the end dismisses them for the sake of yet another mission at hand. Dean uses funny words like dum dum, or jinkies, or “whack”, but he has problems pronouncing French or Latin (aka “serious words”). In the meantime Sam and Cas (who speaks every language possible and “doesn’t get the words wrong”) are on the other side, waiting for Dean to catch up - to start using his words correctly and without struggle. Cas is pissy because he asks questions, but gets bullshit answers. Sam is supportive, but he feels there is so much Dean is not sharing or struggles to share (”I don’t know what you are!”). Dean is in pain because he can’t get the words right. He is definitely not a part of a “speakeasy”, as Sandy put it. In the beginning of the episode he is pretty overwhelmed by the need to find the right words (in the books), and that’s why he hates them so much at the moment.

So many methaphors for communication problems in this episode (13x17):

- previously mentioned post-its that Sam cannot read unless he REALLY tries (and somehow he doesn’t figure out that removing a layer of clothing would actually help the communication here - smart, since the fifteen layers of flannel have always been a symbol for hiding oneself);

- Sandy is both gagged and not gagged in the cold open (she is gagged in every second frame), so she either can’t speak at all or screams in fear;

- Dean is practically overwhelmed by the amount of books around him (they are EVERYWHERE, in the war room, in the kitchen, in the archives, in the corridors, in the other bunker’s office...) in the beginning, before he finds a case (aka Sandy chained to the alter) that removes the pressure to work with words for now - and the books magically disappear (they are even gone from the war room when they come back to the bunker while in the beginning Sam sleeps there surrounded by them);

- when the boys explain the future to Sandy, Dean shows her his car (aka his mean of transportation, of moving, of acting), while Sam shows her his phone - his way of communicating with the world;

- the other MoLs attack and kidnap first, ask questions later (literally), which is such a sign for bad communication skills. They are hooded and silent the whole first time the boys meet them! If only they started by talking to one of the guys, for example on his way to the bathroom - since once they kidnap Sam all they do is TALK TO HIM, not hurt him - the whole case could go so much smoother and fewer people would die;

- the older waitress talks to herself, and in the end compliments Marco for being such a great conversationalist (”You always make me laugh!”), even though he doesn’t say a word;

- the younger waitress, Amy, is obviously happy with the attention given her by the young boy, Buck, but she still doesn’t give him a clear “yes” or “no” - until later in the episode when she does indeed say yes, and agrees to go out with him (but he dies to protect her and she is left behind, alone)(what a tragic love story!)(like a Hallmark movie!)(foreshadowing? what foreshadowing?!)(smh);

- there is not-so-subtle-storytelling, and there is Dean Winchester chained to an undergound altar to be sacrificed to become the male-half of a (het) romantic couple, and when he tries to protest his voice is literally taken away, until he liberates himself, kills the monster, and can speak again/breathe again. Yeah, mr Perez. Subtle. (Almost as subtle as the story of two lovers separated by the rift, or the person being stabbed from behind, through the chest, by the bad guy/girl in front of Dean to trigger his trauma);

- speaking of being gagged/voices being taken away - Gabriel is mute the whole time he is on screen, his lips physically sewn together, and even when Sam cuts the threads, and Gabe is able to open his mouth, he is still unable to share his experience due to the years of abuse, being locked away and forced to be silent. Again, subtle;

- there is A LOT of focus being put on asking questions/getting answers. Asmodeus doesn’t get information because he doesn’t ask. Ketch asks again and again (a nice huge Cas mirror that he is in this episode) why he was called, why he is there, what does Asmodeus want from him, what is the nature of their relationship; one of the post-its on Sam’s back says “I’m stupid - ask me!”. Dean pronounces in front of Capitulum VII - “You ask questions, you get answers.” I hope soon he will give people around him the honest answers, because so far he is trying to avoid it at all cost;

- speaking of honest - everyone is surprisingly sincere in this episode, and I hope it’s a foreshadowing for the better communication from now on. People who asked questions, got answers, and that’s great. Dean is trying while still struggling, but it seems the general idea is that he is getting better, and he has Sam’s support;

- even Sandy questions WHY they are not more willing to discuss her newfound existence - why don’t they ask questions? Why are they not more surprised? Sam starts asking questions then - simple, basic questions - and he finds stuff out while Dean has no interest in talking to Sandy about her misfortune (words vs not using his words again). I would also like to point out that Sandy seems to have all the memories of her vessel - unless she made everything up which I doubt. I wonder if it will be important in the future;

- also, when the attack on the diner (aptly named Krispy’s, with a K instead of C) happens, all the phones are dead, including the landline. All the means of communication are dead for now, and Dean has no ways to communicate with Sam, and he turns to violence - preparing Molotov’s coctails that he never actually uses. Sam on the other hand, who TALKS with the MoLs, manages to regain control over the situation, using HIS WORDS, and not force;

- Sandy dies when her mouth (and her screams) is shut again by Yokoth’s tentacle. While in her body, the god kills people by sucking their hearts out, and their souls dry with a deadly tentacle shooting out of her mouth (nice visual there!).

Miscommunication has been Davy Perez’ pet theme since 12x12 when the whole thing started - Cas using his words, and Dean staying silent. We are over a year later, and Dean got better, but these words still need to come out. In 12x15 Davy made sure to show us that not using your words gets people killed (and for sure it did get Cas killed in the finale of s12). BTW, 13x12, 13x14 and 13x17 have a lot in common, and it’s really interesting to do a little compare and contrast with these three episodes - Yokoth, Glythur and Perez together again, maybe I will (ten)tackle it some other time. They are showing us that asking questions is the way to go because (eventually) you will get your answer. We have seen how since 13x06 Cas has wanted to know why he was brought back, but the answers he got were misleading at best - so he got to the wrong conclusions, and the whole merry-go-round of Cas feeling not loved and leaving started again. BECAUSE DEAN PAL-ZONED AND NEED-ZONED HIM AGAIN DUE TO HIS INTERNALIZED COMMUNICATION ISSUES. The season needs to end with Dean vocalizing how he feels - he has been making such a huge progress that I can’t see it go any other way. However, I fully expect that once he does say out loud what has been sitting inside him for years (to Cas and to Sam as well), the universe will go “oh no you didn’t!”, and will interfere with the force of a raging cosmic entity (or a raging archangel). And we will have new issues on the table. Tragic. You know - like a Hallmark movie.

#Dean meta #communication issues #spn 13x17 #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #kinda #but for blacklisting I will tag it #the thing

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corystssides · 7 years ago

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Roommates, Part 6

Words: 2885

Summary: “I thought you guys were trying to like each other now?”

“We are trying, it’s just...things don’t change overnight, you know?”

Warnings: Swearing, arguments, family troubles, OCs, mildly inappropriate jokes, I think that’s it but lmk as usual.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Logan walked into Astronomy on Wednesday already tired. He wouldn’t have thought that 8 am classes would be so exhausting, especially since his high school had always started at seven, but with calculus as the very first class of the day, it was miserable. And he still had chemistry to go. And, since he wasn’t seeing a sudden increase in his bank account that would cover the amount of his tuition this month, probably a call to his family later today as well.

“Gurl, you wouldn’t even believe--Logan, what’s up? You look like hell.”

“Good morning, Remanuel,” Logan said. He was surprised his lab partner was already here. Usually the guy showed up 30 seconds before class started.

“Listen, dude, I’m gonna have to get you to start calling me Remy, kay? I tried the full name gig for a few weeks, but I have to say, I’m not digging it.”

“Certainly, Remy,” Logan said, dropping his backpack and pulling out his notebook.

“Anyway, Char, I was at lab yesterday with Logan and we’re trying to position the scope but it’s being old and stupid, so James the TA came over to help, and afterwards we were talking about stars and shit, and he pointed at a plane, and he tried to convince me they were shooting stars! He’s like ‘oh yeah, you see those lights? Those two white ones moving together? Those are double shooting stars. Really rare. They always travel together at that same distance.’”

“You looked like you believed him for a second there,” Logan said, grinning.

“I almost did, for a second! I was like, ‘no, surely James is not trying to pull something that obvious over on me!’ But he was, and it was really funny after about two seconds of total confusion.”

“So what did you observe?” Charlotte, one of Logan’s other lab partners asked.

“We observed some cluster thing, y’know, one of the letter-number combination things. And we also observed Vega. That’s all we got though, because the lab got mobbed by a bunch of 101 students who needed moon observations, so we left.”

“Wait, what did you observe?” And there was Alex, their final lab partner.

Remy repeated what he’d just said, then added, “Logan’s got the papers. He seems less likely to lose them than me.”

“Sounds good,” Alex said. “Charlotte and I can start on the report then, since you guys did observations.”

“Do you want the papers?” Logan asked him, pulling the sheets out of his backpack.

“Sure. I’ll scan them and make a group folder on Google for them, sound good? That way we can all access them, and if we lose them we can just print another.”

“That is a genius idea, Alex,” Remy said. “Oh, and, off-topic, but do you pals wanna hang out on Friday? I’m going to a little music show downtown with my partner and some other friends, super cheap, like ten bucks, it’s this local band called The Cosmic Brownies.”

“I’m working, sorry,” Alex said.

“You’re always working,” Remy said. “It’s at eight.”

Alex shrugged. “I’m working until eleven.”

“I’m going home this weekend,” Charlotte said.

“To see your lizard?” Remy asked.

“Hell yes,” Charlotte said.

“What about you, Logan? You gonna join my squad on Friday?”

“Sure,” Logan said. “Where’s it at?”

“Easier question: where do you live? I’ll just pick you up on Friday.”

“Sanders Hall.”

“Great,” Remy said, pulling out his phone. “Wear like, casual clothes, like t-shirt and jeans probably. And contacts if you have them. And earplugs.”

“Why would I need contacts and earplugs?”

“It’s gonna be loud. Don’t worry, you’ll still be able to hear the music. And you might wanna mosh, I dunno, so bring contacts if you have them so you don’t have to worry about getting your glasses knocked off.”

“Okay, class, good morning!” the professor said, walking in. And on that note, Astronomy began.

After Astronomy, Logan headed over to the dining hall on that side of campus. It’s full name was Home Cook’t, but everyone just called it Homes. He got in line after putting his backpack in one of the storage cubbies, and saw that Virgil was already way up in front. He glanced over the rest of the line. No sign of Patton yet, which meant that he’d probably gone back to the dorms after his 8 am instead of the library today.

Patton, Virgil, and Logan had all started eating lunch together on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays about a week ago, once they finally compared schedules and realized they all had an hour of free time from 11-12 on those days. Virgil and Logan were already on that side of campus at 11, while Patton had class at 12:20, so he came over for lunch and then went to class. Roman joined them once, but since all his MWF classes were in Stoker--on the same side of campus as Sanders--he usually didn’t feel like walking all the way across campus to Homes, and instead ate at Talon Hall with theatre friends and then did homework at the dorms for a bit before returning to Stoker.

Once Logan had gone through the food lines and gotten a hamburger, some salad, a soda, and some cookies, he scanned the dining hall for Virgil. He spotted him at one of the tables by the windows, and walked over. Virgil barely glanced up and said hello. His focus was on his phone and whatever he was furiously typing at.

“What’re you doing?” Logan asked.

“Chem quiz.”

“You haven’t done that yet?” Logan asked.

Virgil flipped him off without taking his eyes off the screen. Logan rolled his eyes but stayed quiet, letting Virgil concentrate. While he waited, he tried to plan what, exactly, he’d say to his parents when the phone call inevitably came. And what he’d say if they told him that they weren’t going to pay their agreed part of the tuition anymore. And what he’d say if they told him that he was a miserable excuse for a son and they never wanted to see him again.

Then he realized he was catastrophizing, and tried to quit that line of thinking. It was illogical to be thinking like that. No doubt Dad had just forgotten that it was Wednesday and he had to transfer the money to Logan’s account today. Nothing to worry about at all.

Virgil finished his quiz about five minutes later, less than 30 seconds before Patton showed up.

“Hey guys!” Patton said, plopping down with some pizza and french fries.

“Hey Pat,” Virgil said, slipping his phone into his pocket. Logan waved, not wanting to talk with food in his mouth.

“So Makayla just texted me, and she and Jenny aren’t going to make it,” Patton said. It’s just going to be the four of us tonight.”

“Whose dorm, then?” Logan asked.

“Depends. How clean is your guys’ dorm?” Patton asked.

“Spotless,” Virgil said. “Logan can’t stand anything less.”

“I’m not the one who was sweeping at two a.m. this morning,” Logan said.

“Yeah, but you would be the one who complained after stepping on popcorn when you got up.”

“Let’s do your guys’ dorm then,” Patton said. “Roman’s working on a project right now that’s kind of taken over the dorm, and it would be a project in itself just to clean it up.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I have Risk, so we could play that.”

“I brought Monopoly from home,” Patton said, grinning. “We can switch games then, if one gets too heated.”

Logan nodded. That would be a better idea than trying to stick to one game or calling the night off.

“My moms also sent over some tofu loaf, so as long as neither of you are allergic to soy, you guys get to experience my mother’s cooking, which, by the way, is the bomb!”

“Neither of us are allergic to soy,” Logan said. “Virgil’s lactose intolerant, though.”

“It’s not super severe, but straight-up milk will mess me up. Cheese is usually okay as long as I don’t have too much. So like, I can still eat a slice of pizza usually,” Virgil said. “How do you even know that? I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

“You told me in one of the first few emails we sent each other, after I asked if there were any dietary restrictions I should be aware of,” Logan said.

“I don’t remember that at all,” Virgil said, pulling out his phone to see if he really had emailed that at one point.

“It was one of the emails that had fifty or so questions in it, so it’s unlikely you would remember everything I asked,” Logan said.

“I’ll be sure to remember that, Virgil,” Patton said. “I’d feel terrible if I got you sick. On that note, though, are you allergic to anything Logan?”

“I have seasonal allergies, but I don’t have any food allergies, no.”

“I remember this email now,” Virgil muttered. “I forgot about the food question because the most memorable part of this email was me freaking out because I misinterpreted the question where you asked if I wanted the top bunk or the bottom bunk.”

Logan made a noise of amusement into his soda. Patton looked confused. “How do you misinterpret a question like that?” he asked.

“Uh, don’t worry about it, Pat,” Virgil said, as Logan actually started cracking up.

“No, I want to understand the joke! Tell me!” Patton said

“Don’t think about it as asking about bunks,” Virgil said.

“Top or bottom...not bunks? I don’t under--ooohhh,” Patton said, earning a fresh set of snickers from Logan. “Okay. I get it now.”

“Immature humor at its finest,” Virgil said drily. “Hey, what are you guys doing on Friday night?”

“I’m going on a date, why?” Patton asked.

“I’m looking for an excuse to get out of going home this weekend,” Virgil said. “Dad doesn’t work Saturday, so if I can’t go home Friday I’m set.”

“Just tell them you have too much homework,” Logan said.

“That doesn’t work on them. They just tell me to bring it with me.”

“Why don’t you want to go home?” Patton asked.

“I just want to relax on the weekend, you know? But since I’m not at home during the week, everyone in the house wants to hang out to an excessive degree and then I come back even more tired than I was.”

“Have you actually had a relaxing weekend at the dorm yet?” Logan asked.

“Shut up Logan,” Virgil said, with almost no bite to it. “What are you doing Friday?”

“Do you want me to shut up or do you want me to answer the question?”

“You know, actually I changed my mind. I think I’ll just go home instead,” Virgil said.

“I’m going to a concert with a lab partner and some of his friends,” Logan said, deciding that Virgil wanted him to answer the question instead of shut up. “It’s the, uh, Cosmic Brownies?”

Virgil gave him a look of disbelief. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I was invited?” Logan said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but Cosmic Brownies is like, the least ‘Logan Pensive’ style of music on this earth. Why would you even want to go?”

“So you’ve heard their music before? What style is it?”

“It’s shitty, tuneless, loud, punk rock kinda stuff. I had an ex who really liked it, trust me, it’s not your style of music.”

Logan shrugged. “I may not enjoy the music, but usually outings with friends are more about the friends than the outing.”

“You have friends? Wild,” Virgil said.

“I’m just as surprised that you’ve managed to have an ex,” Logan said.

“Wow,” Patton said. “You guys are mean today.”

Both Logan and Virgil paused for a moment. “You’re right, Patton, my apologies,” Logan said.

“We’re just tired, and that makes us both bitchy,” Virgil said.

“We shouldn’t let that affect our interactions though,” Logan said. “Maybe we should move to a different topic. Uhh, your date on Friday, maybe?”

Patton laughed. “That’s a very smooth transition, Logan.”

Logan scowled, feeling that he was being made fun of. “So who is this date of yours?” he asked.

“Tinder date. Hopefully not an axe murderer or something. We’ve been talking for about a week now.”

“You’re using a dating app?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah? How else would I be looking for love?”

“Join a club and pine hopelessly after someone nice looking until they notice?”

Patton laughed again. “Oh come on Virgil, this isn’t fanfiction. If you want love, you have to seek it out yourself.”

“Hm, have to agree with Patton on that,” Logan said. “It’s unreasonable to put the responsibility for noticing attraction on the other person. Best to be upfront about it.”

“Have you ever actually dated someone, Logan?” Virgil asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, I have!” Logan snapped. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not really in a good mood for socializing. I think I’m going to go back to the dorm and take a nap or something until we have to go to chemistry.” He pushed back his chair and grabbed his tray.

“Are you going to be alright for game night?” Patton asked.

“I don’t know. We’ll see. I’ll see you later.” And with that, Logan left.

There were a few moments of silence where Virgil and Patton just ate their lunch. Finally, Patton asked, “So what’s going on with Logan?”

“He’s just bitchy,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “He needs like a billion hours of sleep and to be in bed by 10 pm and total darkness and no roommates trying to do their homework.”

“I thought you guys were trying to like each other now?”

“We are trying, it’s just...things don’t change overnight, you know?”

Patton frowned. “Well, I suppose so,” he said. Then, he thought of something. “Maybe you should get him one of those mask things for sleeping. That way he can have his total darkness and you can do your homework.”

“Ha!” Virgil said. “He’d probably take that as some kind of insult.”

“Maybe I’ll buy him one of those mask things for sleeping,” Patton said, grinning. “Then he’ll see it as just a gift.”

“I don’t know about that,” Virgil said. Patton was already pulling out his phone and looking up different masks. Virgil made a note of amusement. Patton was just so determined to make them get along.

“Do you think we should play Risk or Monopoly first?” Patton asked, scrolling.

“Probably Monopoly. We don’t want to end the night by ruining friendships.”

Patton laughed at that, and Virgil grinned.

When Roman got to the dorm, he thought Chemistry must have been cancelled, because he could hear Logan arguing, and who else would he be arguing with besides Virgil? Not wanting to miss this newest development in Roommates-not-Friends-ville, Roman quickly unlocked his door and slid into his dorm.

Logan was loud enough that Roman could hear his exact tone, but not quite loud enough to be clear. What was clear, though, is that he couldn’t hear anything from Virgil, and he doubted that Virgil would just stand pretty and let Logan yell at him. Roman really shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he was so darn curious. If it wasn’t Virgil that Logan was mad at, who could it possibly be? Logan always seemed pretty calm when it came to anyone else. Shoot, he was even pretty calm around Virgil. Roman didn’t think he’d ever heard Logan sound this angry.

He grabbed the plastic cup that was holding his pencils, shook the pencils out, and put it up to the wall to listen.

“--so was there an actual reason you called, or do you just want to complain about me?”

Muffled voice from the phone.

“Yeah, I figured. Somehow money’s always tight when it comes to the things I want to do, isn’t it? By the way, did you get that new Smith and Remington or whatever that you were talking about this weekend?”

Logan’s voice was very bitter, and very cold. The voice on the other end was outraged, but Roman still couldn’t make out what it was saying.

“I’m literally in training to be a scientist, and that’s still not enough for you! That’s what! God damn, a little support would be nice once in a while! But no, you and Mom are so miserable that you can’t see anyone else being happy or successful, and you have to ruin it for the rest of us!”

Oh shit, this was family issues. Yikes.

“Well maybe I don’t want to go to Thanksgiving either! Jesus Christ!”

Definite anger on the other side, though this time much quieter.

“Yeah yeah, I’m the family disappointment, absolutely shameful that we actually get a Pensive with thoughts of his own. Whatever. I have class. Say hi to Mom. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

There was silence for a moment, and then a quiet “Fuck.” Then it was followed by several more strings of swears that were angry and regretful all at once. Then there was some shuffling and a door shutting, which was presumably Logan getting on his not-so-merry way to class.

Something told Roman that game night was going to be a stressful event.

#logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sleep sanders #roommates #ask to tag #after one bajillion months i have finally updated this thing #i have edited this thing so many times pals #i still don't like it but it gets the job done #my fics #published: jun 7 2018

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aftermathdb · 6 years ago

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DEATH BATTLE Review: Optimus Prime vs. Gundam

Giant Robots. Y’know what?- I dig giant robots.

Anyone remember that?- god, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen a good giant robot battle show.

The second time that either combatants’ franchises are entering the arena. With the last time a transformer being used was back when Starscream fought against Rainbow Dash, and the last time someone that piloted a Gundam was when Zechs Merquise fought Tommy Oliver, this is bound to be a fun matchup.

During the introduction, they mention that the Transformers were originally Japanese toys, meaning that this isn’t an East vs. West battle. It’s more like… East vs. Adopted East.

Optimus Prime′s Preview.

So, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.

I think most people who grew up in that time period knows who this guy is.

(Yeesh, with experience like that, Amuro is going to need a crapton of firepower to get past that).

We get a history on the Autobot Decepticon War, and how the ‘Cons are basically a bunch of people who love military dictatorships. And how they gunned down a guy named Orion Pax. And as Boomstick said, Robot Gandalf rebuilt Orion into the much more iconic Optimus Prime.

And we get to see his Vehicle Mode get a card too! After all, Optimus is in fact a

Robot in disguise.

So that.

And a nice little notecard tells us what happens to the trailer when Optimus transforms.

(The question has finally been answered!)

And for those of you wondering what’s up with that Action Master and Powermaster stuff that’s under his Transformations tab, here’s what’s up (more or less):

(Man, this got really complicated).

Regardless, they go on to explain a lot of Optimus’ feats and stats. Like his arsenal of weapons…

Oh, and the Matrix is given it’s own explanation. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get it’s own page, but what’s there to know?- It’s a piece of Robot God.

And it appears that Optimus has a sense of honor. Which could lead to a weakness, as he does not like sacrificing others.

(But desecrating their bodies?- That’s nothing).

Optimus’ feats gives him a massive edge too. Overall, it just feels like there’s a lot going for Robot Jesus.

And you know that scene in the original movie where Optimus is all “One shall stand. One shall fall.”?- That’s the end quote. And I gotta say:

That makes me want to DARE! Dare to believe we can survive! DARE! Dare to keep all my dreams alive!

………

Optimus is a badass, and that was another movie reference.

Amuro Ray′s Preview.

If they were trying to get people invested in the Gundam series, then I’d say that they did a pretty good job. After all, it’s a show that uses giant robots to fight Nazis. Who doesn’t like seeing Nazis getting their asses kicked?

But… If they were trying to simplify things, then they didn’t do that great of a job.

(This is an average of at least 4 models per medium).

But thankfully, they are only covering the OG Gundam, and any model that it could scale to.

(I think the size advantage is what prompts people to think that Gundam would win).

Regardless, Amuro Ray’s backstory is… actually quite intense. He’s a civilian who got drafted into a war?- That’s rough. Almost as rough as being a civilian who got gunned down and turned into a commander- Oh!- Another Optimus comparison.

Amuro gets his own page, and he has an… interesting set of codenames. Going over his own skills is also impressive too.

He gets a system that’s similar to the Epyon, only significantly less intense and PTSD-inducing.

The arsenal is also impressive. Especially the Beam Rifle. Like Boomstick said, it’s like a hundred tanks in the form of a single pistol. Unfortunately, like a pistol, the Beam Rifle has limited Ammo. So Amuro might want to be careful when using it.

(Here’s hoping that Amuro doesn’t have to use this feature).

And Amuro’s psychic powers are given a rundown. and given that so far we’ve seen a radioactive spiderbite, a floating head in a tube granting teenagers their abilities, and special fruit giving people powers, I have to agree that the reasons behind why Newtypes have theirs is really really dumb. Couldn’t have been cosmic radiation, I guess.

But that last part is really really funny.

I want to know who was behind this, because I want to give them props.

Amuro’s Newtype powers would certainly close any speed gap, similar to Naruto’s sage powers or Kenshiro’s Toki.

And the feats are a sight to behold. Though, when comparing it to the stuff Optimus has blown up or survived… It’s not looking good for Amuro.

Especially since the suit has no real defenses against intense heat, outside of a one-time use shield.

I have no real way of judging the end line. It doesn’t feel as impressive as Optimus’.

The Battle Itself.

Since Torrian is moving over to RoosterTeeth to do Gen:Lock, this battle is primarily being animated by Kristina and several other animators. Optimus will be voiced by Richard Barcenas, while Gundam RX-78-2′s pilot Amuro Ray will be voiced by David Matranga. Sayla Mass will be voiced by Lindsay Jones (Watch your cheese puffs, Amuro). Audio led by Chris Kokkinos and Music by Therewolf, and is called Wings of Iron.

So, the battle starts with Amuro breaking into the Ark (because the Transformers series is known for their subtlety (Optimus constantly dying and coming back to life, and the ARK?- Seriously? How about they add some more bible references while they’re at it?)), and Optimus attacks Amuro.

And partway into the fight, we find out why Optimus attacked: He mistook Amuro for a Decepticon. Makes sense. Amuro mistook Optimus for an enemy robot suit. So there’s a good reason for each of them to be fighting each other- They mistook the opponent for an enemy.

The battle starts in space, where both of them are firing at each other, and using their melee weapons against the other. With Amuro using his totally-not-a-lightsaber beam sword against Optimus, and Prime using his energy axe right back.

Amuro is constantly using his Newtype powers to keep up with Optimus, as he does claim that Optimus holds the speed advantage.

And we get this beautiful clash between the two combatants. It gives me goosebumps.

It helps that the music, Wings of Iron, give the battle a very 80s vibe. It really helps the overall fight sequence and makes it feel like a clash between icons.

Plus, Prime constantly transforming throughout the battle just reeks of fanservice. But, in the good way. It’s not often that the Transformers use their vehicle modes when combating an opponent, and it’s just really nice to see it in action.

Optimus even cuts through Amuro’s shield in the battle, and renders Amuro defenseless.

And the battle finds its way to earth (because what battle in space doesn’t find its way to earth?), and the battle rages on.

And if you’re worried about Torrian’s absence will mean no flips, then don’t worry! They have flips.

(Ahh, flips. It doesn’t feel like a 3D DEATH BATTLE without ‘em).

And after a brutal clash (And a good ol’ Optimus one liner), we get to the final clash.

Finishing blow in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Well, Amuro… Just tell Death that Optimus sent you. Those two are basically drinking buddies, so Death should have a a beer that he’d be willing to share with you.

Verdict + Explanation.

So, Optimus held the experience advantage, obviously. But, there were many other advantages. And Optimus’s stats are just…

GodDAMN! That is just… Absurd. And they go out of their way to disprove the Refinery feat being an outlier, by referencing the cartoon, and another bot of similar power.

And as for being able to fire into space from the ground…

There’s a notecard for that too. It looks like Optimus Just had the Touch! He had the power!

YEAH!

Overall impression.

For this being a few new animators first time being the primary animator on this project, I originally felt the need to go easy when it came to the animation. Turns out, I didn’t need to. The animation is really solid, and it feels like two robots battling it out instead of just two humans with CGI robots over their bodies.

The music is really awesome, and the explanations that they give for their math feel really solid. I was prepared for Optimus to lose, and to have to make a morbid joke about it, but it actually feels like there was some awesome math behind it all.

The rundowns are fun to watch and listen to, and as a person who can’t really hate Rodimus, I have to commemorate them for not making a cheap shot at the guy (I blame Hasbro for Optimus’ death, not Hot Rod).

Solid animation, plus awesome music, add in a fun rundown, and a pinch of awesome statistics, and you get a good rating of 9.2/10.

Next Time…

This battle is a long time coming. And with the new media surrounding the two, I’d say the way the battle’s going to be portrayed will be really great.

(Ignore Optimus’ hand please).

Because it’s going to be live action!

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

Blüdhaven Bird vs. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

#Death Battle #Deathbattle #review #screwattack

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unfurledwings · 7 years ago

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Good evening!

So, awhile back, some of you may have noticed that I put up a commission post for all of you lovely people. My good friend @myrainydayloves commissioned me for a piece with her F/O, Sho, and this is the result!

So, if any of you are still interested in requesting a commission from me, I hope this helps you make a more informed decision about the whole thing! ^^ And, if you just want a good story involving Annaka and Sho, I hope you enjoy this piece too. :3

Title: Lovedrunk in The Rain

Fandom’s Involved: Persona 4 Arena Ultimax

Rating: A slight T, since both characters get naked to dry off at some point, but nothing sexual ever becomes of it.

Pairing(s): Annaka/Sho.

Summary: Normally, a car throwing water all over you would lead to a bitter end for most dinner dates. Thankfully, however, neither Sho or Annaka are ordinary people.

“Ah, shit.” Sho half-hissed at the rain pouring out onto the world. He and Annaka had been having so much fun during their dinner date that he hadn’t even noticed when it had started to drizzle, much less when it was coming down like it was the second Flood. For the moment, he and his lovely, dark girlfriend were protected by the little overhang outside the restaurant, but the moment they tried to leave for home, they’d be under a watery siege, and if that rain was cold, it’d feel like a million daggers were stabbing into them, which might prompt Sho to start a serious fight with the rain and force Annaka to calm him down, despite her misery and exasperation. “When the hell did it start raining?! It’s nothing but a paining.”

“Calm down.” Annaka replied, her voice as rich and warm as her skin, as she searched around in her handbag, a smile full of ninety percent love and ten percent amusement on her face. “There’s no need to make awful puns. I brought an umbrella with me.” As Annaka pulled out a large, blue umbrella with white polka dots and a wooden handle, Sho gave her a warm smile, his eyes glimmering like a tomcat who knows that it’s up to no good.

“Really? Thanks, Annaka. I might have been a Dark Messiah, but you really are my personal savior!”

“C’mon, Sho..” Annaka sighed, opening up the umbrella and resting it between the crooks of their shoulders, though they still had to huddle together like freezing penguins to keep the rain off them.

“What?” Sho replied, grinning from ear to ear as they started walking down the street. “It’s true! I wasn’t jokin’ about that. I really wouldn’t be the person I am now if it weren’t for you.”

“And you’re not going to deny that ‘paining’ is a horrible pun?” Annaka asked, her cheeks warming, and her radiant smile so full of love that even a sunflower would have been jealous of it.

“Of course not! It was great! I really don’t know what all of you have against my excellent jokes.”

“Maybe we’re against them because they’re not that great.” At that, Sho scowled, but Annaka just continued on. “If you keep raining puns down on people-“ She started, indulging in a pun of her own, though she was never able to finish it. At that moment, a truck came speeding down the road like all the Shadows in the world were after it, flinging water about left, right, and center, and just as Annaka was about to finish her sentence, a wave of cold, muddy water hit her dead in the face, soiling her blue dress. As Annaka glared at the world, Sho bit his lip, trying to control himself, but he could only hold it together for a moment before he started laughing like a hyena, desperately trying to hide his mirth by covering his mouth with his hands. “What’s so funny?” Annaka asked, her voice even more frigid than the rain as she tried to fish around in her handbag for a tissue one-handed.

“It-isn’t it obvious?!” Sho cackled. “You look like a puppy that just got tricked out of a treat!” As Sho moved onto a fresh fit of giggles, Annaka wiped her face, still looking less than amused about the whole thing.

“More like someone just ruined my nice clothes by driving like an idiot. You see what damage your puns can do, now? I tried to use one, and look at what the universe did to me!”

“That’s because you were using a pun to mock their existence! Of course there’s going to be cosmic justice for that!” Sho replied, still chuckling as he ruffled Annaka’s hair. “And don’t worry about your clothes. It’ll wash out. Besides, you look good in anything. Hell, it’s raining so hard that no one would mind if you were out in your birthday suit!”

“Sho!” Annaka yelled at him, her face as red as a cherry, as Sho burst into another fit of giggles, holding his stomach like it’d fall out if he didn’t contain it. “I’m not going out in public naked!”

“Are-oh, Jesus Christ!” He yelled, his feet moving him out from under the umbrella, his mirth moving him about like a puppeteer. “Don’t-don’t glare at me like that! You’re so cute that it’s hilarious!” As Annaka tried to think of something good to throw back at him, a completely different car came speeding down the road in the opposite direction of the truck, throwing its own wave of water onto Sho, and silencing his laughter as quickly and as easily as if it were fire itself.

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the pouring rain as Sho glared at the passing car like he was considering ripping it thirteen new assholes, and Annaka tried to contain herself in turn, though she couldn’t stop herself from smirking, her cheeks full of held-in laughter. “That son of a bitch.” Sho growled, wiping the muddy water off with his sleeve, despite the fact that he was now being soaked by the rain, now that he was out of the umbrella’s protection. “I oughta kill him and burn his goddamn car to the ground. And why are you laughing?!” He yelled, turning his attention back to Annaka, who’d burst out laughing the moment he started talking.

“I’m sorry!” She cried, though she sounded and looked anything but. “You just-you look like a cat that someone just forced to have a bath! It’s priceless!” As Annaka kept giggling, Sho pouted a little. Normally, he might have liked to stay mad, but..it was nearly impossible to mope and hiss when Annaka was in a good mood and laughing, even if that laughter was at his expense. So, Sho tried to sigh out his irritation.

“Peh. Well, I guess it really is raining cats and dogs out here.”

“I guess so, in a way!” Annaka replied, her laughter dying down as she took the umbrella down, which just made Sho look puzzled. Not that he couldn’t go without it, but..

“Are you gonna be alright without the umbrella?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine!” Annaka chirped, stepping next to Sho and taking his hand, sharing a bit of warmth between them. “There isn’t any reason to keep it up now if we’re both soaked. Besides, a little rain won’t kill us.”

“Well, that’s true.” Sho replied, smiling a little as he bent down to kiss Annaka on the top of her head, before they started walking down the street again, their hearts warmer than their bodies. For a few minutes, they were both quiet as they walked, enjoying each other’s company and the warmth they shared, but, after awhile, Annaka a couple of bars that Sho didn’t recognize, though they sounded playful and happy. “What are you humming?”

“Oh..it’s Singing in The Rain.” Annaka replied, pausing for a moment so that she could focus more on her beloved instead of the tune racing through her head. “It’s from a musical of the same name.”

“Well, how does it go, then?!” Sho asked, his face lighting up like he was a little kid who’d just tasted chocolate for the first time in his life. “C’mon, you gotta sing it now! Let me hear it, Annaka!”

“Alright, alright!” Annaka laughed, putting up her free hand to stop him. “It goes like this.” Annaka murmured, her voice as rich and warm as melted gold, before she started to sing the opening tunes, her body swaying and her feet tapping in time with the music playing in her head, and while Sho had never head the song before, he still tried to keep up with his adorable girlfriend, smiling even when he made a mistake, since..it was impossible to hate his lack of dancing skills when Annaka the Angel was singing in all her glory.

As Annaka moved onto the main lyrics, singing about how she was happy again, she kissed Sho on the cheek, and for once, he flushed, though he honestly wouldn’t have cared if anyone pointed it out to him. The more Annaka kept singing, the more they danced together, and while neither of them knew how to tapdance, they still tried to keep up with the song while improvising, spinning each other close and dipping the other while sharing an indulgent look, and waving goodbye to imaginary crowds the next.

They neither noticed or cared about how cold they were as the rain drenched them. They just splashed up puddles and danced as well as they could, never letting go of each other’s hands, the biggest grins on their faces, as Annaka kept singing, with Sho joining in during the refrain. Whenever they got too close in their spinning, bouncing, dipping dance, they would just kiss each other softly on the mouth, their love warmer than a million fireplaces, and even when Annaka finished singing, the two of them kept dancing, their feet pounding away together in the rain as they laughed, simply enjoying every single solitary second they were together, each other thinking how lucky they were that the other had managed to come into their life.

They were enjoying themselves so much that they didn’t even notice that they were near home until they were three buildings past it, which was just another reason for them to laugh together as they went back and entered the lobby of their apartment building, ignoring anyone who gave them weird looks in the elevator. Even when the elevator spat them out onto their floor, they kept dancing, finally noticing just how cold their bodies were, now that they were indoors, but ignoring it, since their spirits were still burning bright with love. Sho even picked Annaka up and spun her around for a few minutes, despite her quiet, half-protests, and while they probably should have kept things down so that they didn’t bother the neighbors, they couldn’t help but laugh, completely drunk on each other.

“See? I always knew you could fly like an Angel.” Sho murmured, his voice sweeter than sugared peaches on a summer evening.

“Only because of you, my love.” Annaka replied, her voice just as honeyed as his. As they bounced over to their front door, Annaka tried to fish her keys out of her bag with her one free hand, which wasn’t easy, especially since she was still holding onto her umbrella, but neither of them was willing to let go just yet, like some magic spell would be broken if even one of their fingers slipped out of each other’s grasp. Eventually, though, Annaka managed to pull her keys out when they were just a few steps away from their door, and while Sho felt an immediate impulse to grab them and playfully toss them down the hall, he kept himself in check, despite how much he wanted this moment to last.

Even when they unlocked the door and went inside, though, they still didn’t let go of their hands. Not as Sho closed the door behind them and Annaka put the umbrella back into it’s stand, not when she set her bag on top of the kitchen counter, and not even when they went into their room to fetch new, warm, cozy clothes to wear.

“You know, I probably don’t say this as much as I should,” Sho said, setting his clothes in the corner so that he could start to undress, “but I love you.”

“I love you too.” Annaka replied, setting her clothes on top of the toilet lid. “I love you more than all the raindrops falling right now in the world.” Once again, Sho’s face flushed as he gave his love a gentle smile, softly kissing her wet lips once again before pulling back so that they could properly undress and hang their clothes up to dry. When they were buck naked, though, they helped each other dry off, pressing kisses to each other’s skin whenever they could, and even putting the other’s clothes on for them, wanting to be as close as possible, wanting to show the other just how much they loved them. If they could have melted away into one being at that moment, they would have.

When they were finally dressed, Sho ruffled Annaka’s hair, and they both went into the kitchen for some coffee before heading into the living room, setting their cups down on the table and snuggling together on the couch, watching the cold rain fall and enjoying the peaceful warmth and love of their bodies.

#self-shipping #self-shipping community #self-insert #f/o #Persona 4 #Sho #Sho Minazuki #fic #fanfiction #my writing

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marypsue · 8 years ago

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@blogg-saron Just remember: you asked for it.

Reincarnation Blues (95,096 words, published April 2, 2015, completed September 26, 2015)

This fic was the product of an idea that absolutely would not leave me alone. I’ve mentioned before that originally Rosa was the centre of the piece, with Ian as a supporting player and partner in crime in her bid to take over the world by being adorable and popular. Rosa Darling, Taylor Swift’s Evil Twin, crawled fully-formed out of the first time I heard Delta Rae’s ‘I Will Never Die’, at least two months before I ever wrote a word of Reincarnation Blues.

Ian didn’t actually have a name until I decided to write a short fic based on these characters who just wouldn’t get out of my head; he was a generic, grinning-evil Devil Went Down To Georgia reference with a fiddle but no name playing backup in Rosa’s band and lending her supernatural firepower when necessary. As originally conceived, he knew exactly who he’d been and used it to his full advantage. I decided on 'Ian’ after considering ‘Liam’ as a name that referenced ‘William’, but not as obviously as a ‘Bill’ or ‘Will’, and then deciding that would give the game away too soon. I also just plain didn’t like the name ‘Liam’ as much. It was only later that I found out that the man responsible for the absolutely stunning art direction on Gravity Falls is named Ian. And I just found out now, looking up Delta Rae to see when ‘I Will Never Die’ was released, that one of the band members is named Ian. This is...typical of the experience of writing this fic.

Mira came into the picture after I gave up on finishing the fic I was working on at the time before giving the RB characters free rein on my imagination, and decided to write just a short one-shot, just to introduce them. (Hah.) I’m not sure, exactly, when or why I ended up deciding that Ian shouldn’t have any knowledge of his previous incarnation (I think it was somewhere between Brown Bird’s ‘Blood of Angels’ and the short burst of Alex!Bill popularity), but it ended up being a good decision. It would’ve been around that time that I decided I needed to put him into Alcor’s path in order for his previous incarnation to come out, and that the best way to do that was to put him into the orbit of a Mizar. Deciding to have them date was purely a ‘hey, wouldn’t it be funny if...’, with an added touch of ‘oh man, Dipper would hate that’. Mira basically started out as an amalgamation of Mabel traits and fashion that I like, and a lot of her arguments with Dipper came out of my trying to figure out just what the heck was going on in her head. (Also, her social media presence is a little bit based on Manzi, who Alex was dating at the time, because I followed her on here for a short while before realising we had practically no interests in common and she posted a LOT of stuff that wasn’t cosplay. )

And now that the stage is set:

Chapter One

This began life as a one-shot that was meant to exorcise these characters from my head. Ninety-six thousand words later, we can all see how that turned out.

I wrote a good chunk of this chapter from Mira’s perspective, but it just wasn’t working, and I realised around the point where Dipper flips out that if I wanted to keep it as a short, I needed the readers to know whether Ian was really evil and scheming like Dipper suspected, or if he was just as clueless as Mira was. Now, I think I might have stuck with my original plan and left that ambiguous, because that would be a nice, tight little horror story. On the other hand, ninety-six thousand words later...

Given the opportunity to do a complete rewrite, though, I would adjust Mira and Ian’s introduction as a couple. Their first interactions seem really, really stilted and forced to me now.

Chapter Two

I actually wrote a short fic for the TAU blog based on a prompt about Ian and Dipper learning to tolerate each other and Ian pitching a show based on Dipper and Mabel’s experiences in Gravity Falls before I decided I was going to expand the, at the time, one-shot into a full multichapter fanfiction novel. It actually was part of what convinced me that I still had a lot of stories to tell about these characters, and that it should be expanded. That short fic also introduced Ian’s prosthetic eye, which he didn’t, at that point in Reincarnation Blues, have. I got to answer a couple of asks with axolotl gifs and feel like a real creative mastermind.

There were a couple times while I was writing the climax that I actually considered killing Ian off, because it seemed more likely with the state of each of the characters and also just so that the Toby plot could still work, but because I had made this short fic of events taking place after the events of RB and Ian was still alive in it, I decided that meant I’d made a tacit promise that he’d survive. I didn’t really want to kill him off anyway, so it made a good excuse when I was weighing my narrative options and they all seemed to be sliding towards Death.

A lot of this chapter was influenced by the surge of human!Bills in the fandom at the time, and especially of human!Bills (and human-shaped!Bills) who had flashy, obvious, fire-based powersets. I felt like Bill Cipher’s real power lay in misdirection - the flash and the fire, in canon, always only distracted the main characters from Bill’s real objectives, and, arguably, what he was really getting out of their interactions. To my way of thinking, it was far more likely that a human Bill Cipher would have some kind of mentally-based powerset, if they had a ‘powerset’ at all, and weren’t merely very quick cogitators who could think big and put themselves one step ahead of everyone around them. At the time, there were precious few authors and illustrators who seemed to have come to the same conclusion - none that I ran across, anyway. (There still aren’t, but the flood of billdip-based Cool Human Bills With Fire Powers seems to have slowed to a trickle.)

It also came in response to Toby, who was invented by the Transcendence AU’s very own Mod Z and exploded in popularity almost instantly. He was a sweetheart, a genuinely good, kind, little kid, who was facing enormous cosmic retribution for a millennia-long previous lifetime as a liar, monster, and snappy dresser. Toby is great, his creator manages to milk all the hilarious irony out of the situation, and there are some authors who’ve done really good and clever things with him. I’ve just never been all that interested in purely Good characters who just keep getting kicked in the teeth by a cruel world, and it struck me that Toby was the perfect setup for Bill to sneak in close to Dipper and do...something vicious. (I don’t think, at this point, that I knew exactly what Bill was planning to use Ian for, but I definitely knew that Bill was planning something, and it was going to blow up spectacularly in everyone’s faces.)

With those things in mind, I tried to imagine some realistic flaws or weaknesses that a near-omniscient, immortal demon forcibly bound to a decaying, imperceptive meatsack might potentially develop. Ian’s anxiety and nihilism(-lite?) and self-destructive tendencies all come from there. I settled on the feelings of insignificance and impermanence as the two major issues Ian had to face mostly because those were two things that Bill had never had to consider, would never have had to consider if he hadn’t ended up human himself, and would never have been able to satisfactorily reconcile with his own omniscience and indelible influence on human history/trail of destruction across several dimensions. It was not long after I settled on this and really committed to it (I believe it was a few chapters later than this, though) that Alex did a twitter Q&A where he talked to a fan with anxiety and...basically laid out that he suffered from very similar fears, and had developed very similar coping mechanisms to the ones I’d decided to give Ian. I initially only made Ian look like Alex for the sake of the joke, but as the fic progressed it became more and more clear to me that, by writing a version of a character who Alex Hirsch had once gotten in a ‘which character are you’ online personality quiz, I had inadvertently tapped a vein of similarity that was only gonna get wider.

If you’re reading this, Mr. Hirsch: I am so sorry, and I swear that I did not and do not stalk you. I know my icon of cartoon Dana Terrace kinda makes this harder to believe, but still.

Chapter Three

The first Mira-POV scene! Also the first appearance of Rosa!

I think this was the chapter that really cemented for me that I was doing this, that this 'short one-shot' was now a fully-fledged multichaptered fic and I was in it for the long haul. This is the first chapter that starts to set the plot in motion, and the first chapter where I really knew that there WAS an overarching plot thread and where, in a more specific sense, it was going. I believe this is also the chapter where the fic got its title (the previous two oneshots had been posted without titles).

...her punk-bluegrass act, the Savage Peace...

Oh yeah! I never mentioned these guys again. This was the duo that Ian and Rosa played together in, before Ian left to go into animation and Rosa went solo. The name is a riff on the Civil Wars, another excellent bluegrass duo who split up due to differences of opinion on their future direction. I love the Civil Wars.

I searched last.fm for 'punk bluegrass' after this chapter, because I had a very specific idea about what Rosa's music sounded like (like Delta Rae but with more electric guitar and bass, pretty much) and I wanted to see if anyone else had made it a reality. I did not find what I was looking for, but I did find Wood Spider, a band that plays bluegrass music with screamo vocals. I recommend 'Is It Strange?' because it is a very, very Ian song.

In case you hadn't noticed yet, a lot of the making of this fic was heavily influenced by music. I really need to make another playlist for it at some point.

Also, there's been some confusion amongst TAU peeps regarding Rosa's hair. I intended it to look like P!nk's blonde fauxhawk. Word Of God has spoken.

"He knows what I like and don't like, what matters to me, even things I don't tell him. He pays attention to what I say and do, and he remembers. He just does nice things for me sometimes when I'm least expecting it, and it's always exactly what I didn't even know I wanted."

This line was meant to show how Bill's 'ALWAYS WATCHING!' shtick might, under a very different set of circumstances and put to a different use, actually be a good thing. Post-Escape From Reality and Mabeland, it also takes on a vicious irony which I really appreciate. Successfully predicting what'll be ironic in the most painfully angsty way before canon even gets there: The Mary P. Sue Advantage!

I think this scene is where Mira actually coalesces into her own character for me, rather than 'a Mizar who is dating an r!Bill'. This is where she gets to show some of her own strengths and values, and to oppose and conflict with Dipper on her own terms, rather than because of Ian. I made a conscious effort to make sure this fic passed the Bechdel test, but I feel like even though this was a conversation with a dude, it was equally important in giving Mira a voice and an interior life separate from the men (well, okay, man and demon) in it. It also shows off the two sides of her - she's picked up a lot from Dipper, as evidenced by her nonchalance about cult-busting, but she's also still empathetic and compassionate, as shown by how she handles the kids. She's stuck between Dipper and humanity, and this is the first place where that's really shown, rather than talked about. It's one of my favourite scenes in the fic for exactly those reasons.

The last scene in this chapter is also where Mira and Ian start really feeling real to me as a couple, too. I really think this is just the chapter where I found my stride and all the pieces started to come together.

Chapter Four

I don’t have a whole lot to say about this chapter. It mostly exists to set the scene for what comes later, to get the reader more familiar with the characters, to set the cogs in motion. I am very pleased with Ian and Rosa’s friendship in the first couple scenes, though - I think it’s pretty natural.

Rosa looked up at him, her expression completely neutral. “Beale, I am goin’ to steal your girl.”

At the time I was writing this, there had been - I remember it as several, but it really must’ve been like, three - Gideon reincarnations (and preincarnations) in TAU who had gotten weirdly possessive about Mizars and had caused All Of The Plot in their respective fics by trying to make her their own. We’d also - if I recall correctly - received an ask basically proposing that Gideon’s soul would always do that, any time it came into contact with a Mizar’s, no matter what else might be going on. I...wasn’t a fan of that idea. I believe I’ve mentioned in a previous thing-where-I-talked-too-much-about-RB that Reincarnation Blues’ major theme is determinism versus individual identity. That was why I felt like this was the perfect place to kind of deconstruct that idea that there could be no r!Gideon who wasn’t an epic jerk. Right from the beginning, I intended for Rosa to get fixated on Mira, to set events in motion by doing a bunch of stuff that was beyond the pale to try to ‘steal’ her from Ian, and then to have to face the consequences of her actions. The goal was to see if she could grab a clue, if knowing what was going on and what she had done would give her a chance to look at her life, look at her choices, and make better ones the next time.

That’s right. I was redeeming Gideon before it was canon cool.

(There’s a whole lot I could get into about what I’m meaning when I say ‘redemption’ versus ‘apologism’, but...I won’t, here. Suffice it to say that I wouldn’t have wanted any kind of redemption plot for Gideon - or, indeed, any character, anywhere - that didn’t acknowledge that they started out in the wrong, and, though I usually disagree, I completely understand people not wanting to see certain villainous characters get a second chance.)

“... So - noose joke. Think that can ride, or are the censors gonna flip?"

I made a Mistake here. I was referencing the cut storyboards from Scary-oke where Dipper finds Ford’s ‘Zombie Survival Kit’ and all that’s in it is a noose. It was a suicide joke. (Well, I mean, suicide wasn’t the joke, but - well, whatever.) I should have referred to it as a suicide joke, or chosen a different deadly weapon. Instead, I referred to it as a ‘noose joke’ and it became a meme on the TAU blog, that Ian would be hiding nooses in the backgrounds of scenes all the time.

It was only, like, a month into this that I realised what the noose has historically, in the States, been a symbol for, and that without the context of a cut storyboard presented at a con (which might not necessarily be widely known) and then taken out of the context of a scene where the character is making storyboards (thereby removing the storyboard reference link)...yeah. I have to apologise for this one. Nobody has said anything to me about it, but in hindsight and with some consideration, I would word this differently if I were to rewrite the fic today.

I had a loooot of fun writing sleep-deprived Bill-like Ian here, and I hope to do more of it at some point.

Chapter Five

The introduction of Sun-mi! Sun-mi was a last-minute addition because I realised Mira had no female friends and panicked, and also because NWHS came out and I fell even harder in love with the character of the Author, and figured that tossing an r!Author (we didn’t at the time know that he was named Ford) into the mix with an r!Bill would be fun. This...is why Sun-mi’s role is small (though, I think, still important enough to justify her inclusion) - it was added to the plot post-outlining.

While I was writing Sun-mi, I was thinking of her with a voice much like April on Parks & Rec. This is not particularly relevant information to anything, I just see her as being very deadpan in that same way.

“So, not that one. How about Tam Lin?”

The mention of Tam Lin - one of the Child Ballads, in which a girl rescues her fairy lover on the night his soul is to be sent to hell as a tithe, and restores him to humanity, by holding him fast, and fearing him not - was a blatant nod to how the fic was going to end, and nobody picked up on it. It is also just a great, classic fiddle tune, though, and apparently it's not widely known that it's in the same time and key as St. Anne's Reel and so the two can be played together?

(I also answered a question about what each of the characters would have on their iPods, and said that Mira would have the Kerli song ‘Chemical’ on hers. If anyone had looked it up, they would have found out that it’s got a refrain that goes ‘This love is more than chemical’, which also directly references how the fic ends. I took every opportunity to hide spoilers for this fic in plain sight. It was so much fun.)

Stamped into the starry void around them like an artificial horizon was a massive ring, parallel lines glowing red like gashes cut into the dream to reveal an inferno on the other side. And between those lines, all around the horizon, burned familiar symbols.

Most of Ian’s nightmare is based on what I thought Bill’s experience of the Mystery Shack, from the mindscape, must have been like. This bit, though, is based entirely on a nightmare I had which involved Bill Cipher. I was practically contractually obligated to include it here.

Chapter Six

I have to preface any comments I make about this chapter with a disclaimer. Normally, I loathe miscommunication plots, especially ones where characters who ostensibly love and trust each other just flat-out refuse to listen to the other's explanation of a situation that looks bad. However, that's...exactly what I've written here.

I feel like the saving grace of this first scene is that, one, it doesn't constitute the entire plot, and two, it's more of a symptom of larger, deeper problems that they're having, rather than manufactured drama so that there can be some conflict and a tearful reunion in the third act. Sure, things end up hinging on Mira and Dipper trusting one another, but things are already strained between them, and this one miscommunication isn't the only problem they face, it's just the straw that broke the camel's back. Clearing up this one particular misunderstanding also doesn't magically solve all of their problems. I could, of course, be totally wrong and this miscommunication plot could be exactly as painful as every one I've ever seen on a made-for-TV romcom.

Had this whole thing been a colossal waste of time?

And here we see the product of Rosa's machinations! My thinking behind her slightly-absurd recruiting of Sun-mi to investigate Ian's past lives in an earlier chapter was that she thought that, any negative information Sun-mi turned up, she would share with Mira, and it wouldn't look like Rosa herself had deliberately sabotaged Ian and Mira's relationship, so she'd still have a shot with Mira. Devious.

(It occurs to me that both of the two characters who were the initial inspiration for RB started out as evil masterminds in concept, but ended up being sympathetic characters who got redemption arcs in the actual fic. There's some kind of irony about this.)

Trying to work out how the historical record might represent the Shack so far in the future was also a lot of fun. I know that the worldbuilding on this fic isn't sufficient for something that's meant to take place a full thousand years in the future, that the rate of change is so rapid that the society - and even the landscape - of the world Ian and Mira live in ought to be near-completely unrecognisable. On the other hand, I just wanted to write a fun story about character interactions, and I couldn't really set it any earlier or I'd risk 1) Dipper still having a clear thread of niblings around to anchor him, 2) things not having progressed far enough to actually have something like preincarnation testing, and 3) it being too early for Bill to have recovered from his 'defeat'.

(Also, I'm pretty sure that this, here, is the first use of the word 'preincarnation' in the TAU.)

He was still himself, more or less, he wasn't like Bill - !

Dipper is a little (or a lot) less human in this fic than in some of my others, but the thing is, he isn't really aware of that. This is the scene where it gets hammered home. It was a lot of fun constructing the scene where he eats Ian's nightmare so that it could be deconstructed here, to put all of the pieces of his real motivation and plans on display and show just how much like Bill's his modus operandi has become. (It also explains how he's able to get into Ian's head to offer the deal he does right at the end of the fic.)

Chapter Seven

aka "Shit, Meet Fan".

If you asked Dipper what seeing the future was like, he'd probably say it was like a beach.

I lifted this metaphor from Terry Pratchett's The Carpet People, a book which I strongly suggest for anyone who is interested in high fantasy, slightly deconstructed, and set among a race of teeny-tiny people living in the hairs of a carpet. He wrote it at seventeen and then came back and edited it as an adult. The result is...not quite A Terry Pratchett Book, but also not your average Extruded Fantasy Product Tolkien knockoff. He deploys the metaphor a little differently, and I can't remember how exactly he phrased things, but the concept of seeing possible futures as grains of sand on a beach came from him initially.

"I'm Alcor and I was wrong

I'm singing the Alcor Wrong Song..."

Dipper's apology is, of course, based on the Stan Wrong Song, which I thought was a nice touch to show that he was still thinking of Mira in terms of his life with Mabel in Gravity Falls. You gotta give the boy credit, though, he's trying.

I also think that Dipper will never be over his fear of puppets, partly because of Sock Opera, but also partly because we never got the Labyrinth episode. Until Dipper and Mabel have a siblinghood-affirming adventure in a giant, glittery maze with a mess of Muppets and a David Bowie guy, Dipper Pines will forever fear all puppetry.

"Well, we're all going to die."

Ian is really, really, profoundly bad at being comforting. (Unless you're worried about having embarrassed yourself or messed up your future, in which case, your ultimate insignificance in an eternal and uncaring universe and the inevitable certainty of your eventual complete eradication can sometimes be comforting.)

Ian hummed along as he turned on the faucet. "Dream a little dream of me..."

Annnnd here we go.

I decided that Ian would like folk and bluegrass music, partly because of the initial character concept and the Rosa connection, partly because I thought it was a genre that would remain resistant to introducing synthesised music even in the hypothetical future, partly because then I could make 'The Devil Went Down To Georgia' jokes. I decided he should also be into jazz music mostly because of the incredible His Name Was Billy Mischief, which is probably one of my favourite GF fics of all time and also highly recommended for anybody who liked RB. The author's inclusion of 'Someone To Watch Over Me' was both inspired and led to me looking up more jazz music, which led to finding a surprising number of songs that could be easily read as referring to Bill. It's not jazz, but Alex's inclusion of 'We'll Meet Again' in the finale still made me kick my feet in vindicated glee.

This scene was in the works from chapter 2 onwards, and it's another of my favourites - I think with good reason. I've had a lot of feedback from people that this was the most viscerally effective scene in the whole fic, and somebody drew me fanart for it! It was a little challenging to get into initially, because I was so excited to write it and I had to restrain myself somewhat to keep it taut and tense and simmering, instead of just explosive from word one. I think - I hope - that it succeeded.

Chapter Eight

“I’ll be looking at the moon,

but I’ll be seeing...you!”

I found Billie Holiday's version of 'I'll Be Seeing You' somewhere around chapter three or four and I instantly knew I had to write this scene and use it as a backdrop. I'd love to see this on film; Mira looking through the empty apartment, the slight and subtle wrongnesses adding up as a sinister bass note slowly builds from under the song to nearly drown it out, only to vanish on the final line as the camera overlooks the sink abandoned in the middle of a task and the phone left docked on the wall, letting Billie's voice echo, alone, over the unnatural stillness, before the song ends and all is left in perfect, fragile, ominous silence -

Anyway. Sometimes my mind is unnecessarily cinematic, and sometimes I profoundly regret not being able to score and soundtrack my fics.

“Do y’all mind?” Rosa asked, holding her phone away from her head. “Can’t hear a word my friend’s sayin’.”

This scene was originally even longer and more obnoxious. I really wanted to give people a reason to like and root for Rosa. Okay, so I also thought it would be badass. Thankfully, I have long trained myself to sacrifice cool awesome character stuff when it needs to be sacrificed for the sake of the story.

Are you done laughing yet? No? Okay, I’ll give you a couple more minutes.

Please ignore literally everything I had to say about the wards, because it is all bullshit. I think I said that anything less than an SS-class demon would be bounced back from Mira's wards, and that Ian, once 'active', shattered one of them completely on his way out, but that Dipper could go past them without having any effect on them at all? Which would require him to, like, probably use his powers to recreate them after he passed through...? I don't know how any of that was supposed to work.

I am, however, very, very pleased about opening a scene with Dipper missing Mabel's absolute faith in him, and immediately taking it into Mira accusing Dipper of murdering her boyfriend because Dipper's just such a demon. Juxtaposition!

The 'highlight reel' is equally if not more bullshit than the wards. I think this chapter is where I just gave up on trying to give Dipper a balanced powerset and decided to just go with whatever best served the emotional, character-arc thread. Sometimes you just have to play to your strengths.

Dipper didn't like other people knowing things he didn't. ... If he wasn't that guy, then - well, what was he?

A good brother! A real scrapper with a heart of gold and a will of adamantium! A sarcastic little shit! Dipper's focus on being The Smart Guy getting deconstructed and his realising that that isn't the be-all end-all of who he is was a wonderful good awesome character arc, even if it ended up being kind of understated in comparison with some of the more in-your-face character development that, say, the Stans got. TAU kind of does a similar thing with Dipper's arc, giving him All The Knowledge but making it come at the price of his family, which makes him reconsider its value...but it doesn't address that particular thing in the same way as canon, so I can see Dipper still getting hung up on this even thousands of years later. (Also, there are a lot of interpretations that indicate he may be kind of mentally frozen at the age he 'died', which I kind of love and subscribe to.) Hence, this line!

(I bet Dipper haaaaaaates when, like, The Slang and memes change. He has all kinds of arcane knowledge, but just what exactly the kids are talking about when they say something that looks like a random combination of syllables is beyond even his eldritch comprehension, and he can't figure out the nuances of how the new words are used, and - argh.)

"I tried to set things up so you'd find out something awful about Ian and break up with him so I could date you instead!"

There was a beat.

"That's it?" Mira asked, carefully.

One, I personally still think this is hilarious.

Two, this is the thing about Gideon - in a world of supernatural, outsized threats, he's really quite mundane! His whole shtick is something that can and does happen in real life! And he's the second-worst antagonist in the whole show! I front-loaded the redemption arc in this fic and gave Rosa a little more self-awareness and a quicker leap to recognising that what she was doing was shitty, so how funny the mundanity of 'I want you to be my girlfriend and I don't care what you think' as compared to 'a literal demon is going to try to blow up the whole of reality' is can really shine, but, like...it's still terrible, and giving it outsized supernatural consequences doesn't make it worse or better than it is when it happens in reality. Do any of these words make sense? Who knows.

My one explicitly lesbian character in this fic being manipulative and predatory in her affections? Mmmmmmaybe not a choice I'd make again. But I do like how this storyline played out.

Chapter Nine

I'm still not entirely sure who knows what about Bill and why. That was another thing that I'd change, given a chance to do a rewrite - I'd solidly establish Bill's position in history, myth, and public consciousness in this particular future right up front. That way, it might actually make a lick of sense when the characters react to hearing his name when there's not...like...any evidence that they have any idea who the fuck he even is.

Don't set your stories in a future where magic has been real for a thousand years if you don't have a lot of experience or interest in worldbuilding, guys.

This is the chapter where Mira is just completely fucking done with absolutely everyone's shit, and I love it.

"...They used to have to take my pulse manually every time. ..."

I decided that Ian wreaks havoc with medical technology because his Ooo Weird Demon Soul Energy is, like, an actual electromagnetic weirdness that hangs around him. This is also why the viewscreen for the peephole goes all fuzzy on him in chapter seven and why, in some extracanonical material, he can't get his storyboard files from his tablet to talk to literally any other piece of technology. It's also why Rosa can tell his energy's 'weird' and why Mira's mom thinks his aura's like a hole.

"... Remember Paloma Heart?"

... "I don't."

I should have mentioned Paloma earlier. That's all.

Brown really did think that he had Ian figured out, that he knew Ian back to front, just because he knew Bill Cipher. ... He wasn't expecting Ian Thomas Beale.

Ian, here, is thinking he's making Brown nervous, making Brown think that he's up against some semi-omniscient, potentially-omnipotent extradimensional being who knows more than he does and can do more than he can, in hopes that Brown will get scared and angry and slip up, give away information that Ian doesn't actually have yet (like how Bill sent Ford that nightmare in the beginning of TLM that really had no purpose except to send Ford running scared for his defenses against Bill, and which also led to the brainwave-encryption machine being destroyed and Ford taking Dipper into his confidences and growing closer to him and ultimately seeding the rift between Dipper and Mabel that ends with Bill getting the rift...). Just how in control is Ian of his own actions here? Debatable, since what he ends up actually doing is getting Brown scared and angry enough and believing enough in Ian's 'powers' to, eventually, let Bill out. Oh, the irony.

Area 51! For someone who's never been big into aliens, I sure have put this dang place into a lot of fics.

(I also wanted to give Mira a chance to one-up Dipper in the Smart Guy department. And do something nice for Dipper. He deserves a bone thrown his way.)

Chapter Ten

Mira is one of the only people - if not THE only person - in this entire fic who has exactly zero ulterior motives. She does exactly what she means to, goes for exactly what she wants to, directly and without hesitation. I kind of love that about her, it's a breath of fresh air.

Here, however, it does probably make her immediate job a little harder.

"It just kills you, doesn't it?" he said ... "Not knowing?"

#getrektIan

I am unreasonably proud of the jet-skate Ladies of English Lit roller derby team as a method of mass destruction.

This scene originally had Dipper taunting Mira about killing mooks lead into the 'mooks' turning out to be magically mind-controlled people, which Mira found out very graphically and horribly when she wrenched the helmet off the guy who tried to choke her out to jam her fingers in his eyes and saw the sigil on his forehead - but that dragged me down a rabbit hole of Is Mira Actually A Good Person etc, and it was both too late to introduce this thread and would have muddled the plot. I might revisit the idea sometime, but then again, I might not.

Chapter Eleven

Janice!!! Janice is one of my favourite backgrounders and I almost wish I hadn't killed her off so quickly. Almost.

I have a boatload of headcanons about how the Society of the Blind Eye worked, how it was originally a secret society designed to stop Bill but Bill used Fiddleford to co-opt and disable it and then used Dipper to destroy it, most of which ended up finding a home in Raising Stakes. This is one of them. There's just no way, in-universe, that the Blind Eye is so deliberately similar to Bill's in design just by chance. (Out of universe, of course, it makes perfect sense for the gravi-team to maintain a consistent aesthetic, but still. My convoluted headcanons can still be supported by textual evidence!)

There was a circle in the middle of the room.

Goodbye, Ian. It was nice knowing you.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and his outstretched wings flickered with stars, surveillance footage, images of the fight that had just happened, an apple tree in a forest of pines, a blueprint, a wide-eyed alien-looking creature...

Dipper's wings flickering is meant to parallel Bill's face flickering in Dreamscaperers, and, like Bill's face flickering in Dreamscaperers, it contains spoilers! The surveillance footage refers to how he and Mira eventually find Ian (through the central control room, on a security tape), the apple tree in a forest of pines is a reference to Henry's antlers and his tree over his grave in Gravity Falls and also a metaphor for him being part of the Pines family, the blueprints refer to the wards on the structural components of the facility, and the alien's just a reference to the fact that it's Area Fifty-freakin'-one.

"For the love of - are you actually twelve?"

Nyahahaha.

I love the bounce castle. I love Mira and Dipper's dialogue immediately post-bounce-castle. I think I have Dipper rip the doors to the soul tree room off their hinges and then later have Mira say she should've closed them, whoops.

I have nothing particular to say about the last scene except that I'm very proud of how it turned out.

Chapter Twelve

The summer Ian had turned fourteen, one of the artists his mother represented had gone triple platinum, a record-breaking heatwave had hit the West Coast, and Ian had tried to kill himself.

I like this scene too. I like montages, bullshit experimental purpley prose, and expressing emotion through place. I also like that this nods to what they're trying to do to Ian - they can't bring Bill back proper, but they can dredge up all his memories, theoretically creating a powerless, more controllable human with all of Bill's borderline-infinite knowledge and no requirement of making a deal or dealing with demonic senses of humour to get at it. All of Ian's own memories bubbling to the surface is part flashback, part the spell dragging up something old and dead and long-buried and dislodging Ian's memories as it rises.

I also should've established Ian's father's death earlier, I think, though now that I'm staring it in the face again I don't dislike it as much as I did just considering it as a concept. I could've mentioned it more concretely earlier on, but bringing its full impact on Ian out here, where everything he's tried to forget is being dragged out of him and everything he is is being stripped bare, is not the worst narrative decision I've ever made.

The soul tree (or ‘tree of knowledge’, as Janice calls it, because haha, it bears apples and it’s a research project) is a product of me looking at what they’re doing to Ian and trying to work backwards, to see what kind of other things they might be doing to research souls, if this is how they decide to deal with Ian. It was also a nice opportunity for a great big hunk of angst, and a good excuse to give Dipper the powerup necessary for all the heavy magical lifting he’s going to have to do. Three for the price of one cool-looking plot device!

“We’re not going anywhere,” Brown said, taking his hand away from his earpiece. “We’ve still got -”

Janice gave him a pitying look. “It’s Alcor,” she said.

Janice is...probably a little bit of an Alcor fangirl. (Not the Twin Souls kind. The watches-doumentaries-about-serial-killers-on-her-days-off kind.) She is perfectly aware of, and starstruck by, the fact that he can kill her with barely a thought. She would just love to get him under a scalpel or energy blade of some description, but she’s also not a complete idiot. No one who’s ever tried to summon Alcor for anything like the kind of research she does has ever lived to tell the tale. She probably just has a wall of newspaper clippings all about Cool Shit Alcor Has Done.

“Wanna know what your future has in it?” ... He blinked, once, slowly, deliberately, and said, “Exactly three minutes!”

This is a self-fulfilling prophecy. It also probably wouldn’t have worked if Ian hadn’t already played at being Bill for Brown earlier. BAM. PLOT.

Ian glanced over at the timer as Brown brandished the tablet. The last few seconds drained away just as Brown pressed a finger down on the screen.

The house from Ian’s nightmares crashed down around him.

This is another one that I can see as a scene, animated or filmed; the room beyond, the ‘real world’ with the circle and the magitech and the terrified people suddenly vanishing from Ian’s viewpoint when a wall drops in front of it, no, slams down in front of it, shaking snowglobes and pine-tree trucker hats off the shelves and putting huge cracks between the boards, settling slowly into place like it was just dropped by a tornado even as blue light starts to spill up through the floorboards and the cracks start to widen as gravity fights for every board and nail...

Man, I wish I could make the moving pictures. (Though I guess if I’d put my time and energy into learning to make the moving pictures, maybe I would know less about making the words go. And, like, I’ve managed to just blither some seven thousand words about Making The Words Go. So I might actually have some modicum of skill at that by now.)

Chapter Thirteen

Mira hadn’t said anything since they’d left the room where Henry’s soul had been imprisoned, and Dipper was starting to worry.

TAU’s creator and Mod Z mentioned to me after this chapter was posted that I could’ve held off naming Henry as the owner of the soul until Dipper is forced to admit it, out loud, to Mira, and I’m still kicking myself that I didn’t think of that before posting the chapter because it’s a great suggestion and would have been very effective.

“See, at least we just kill people.”

Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t get into the ‘moral dilemma of Mizar’ aspect in this one any more than I did.

“You’re my best friend, you know? And I don’t want to lose that.” She glanced down the hall, back the way they’d come. “But if this is going to work, then sooner or later, you’re going to have to trust me.”

WHOOOOA THESIS STATEMENT

Everything from Mira and Dipper breaking into the control room straight through to Mira landing in the hospital was pretty much written in one straight shot, without stopping. This was the part I'd been itching to write since, like, chapter two, and it was GREAT to finally have it all fall together. The reactions I got to Bill's appearance - even though I think everybody was kind of expecting it by the time we got to this part - were all awesome and priceless.

I do want to make sure it's clear - the whole Bit in Area 51 was set up to approximate the circumstances under which Dipper became demonized. We had 1) an enormous, elaborate spell being worked, 2) ancient spells in the foundation of the building which had been in place for more than a thousand years, 3) all of which were destroyed, releasing all that pent-up power while 4) demonic energy and knowledge was being forced through and into a fragile puny human with an intrinsic tie to the physical plane.

It seemed like it made sense at the time, okay.

"AND PUBERTY! REMIND ME TO GIVE THE EVOLUTIONARY PROCESS THAT DREAMED THAT ONE UP A SWIFT KICK IN THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST!"

I love writing dialogue for Bill. That is all. Most of my favourite lines did actually make their way into the fic, but I still ended up having to scrap some that I really liked, just because I couldn't make the dialogue work with the plot and the other characters. A shame.

I honestly don't think I could be happier with how the scene with Bill in the centre of the circles with Mira turned out. Choreographing it was a bitch, though.

"Give Ian back, you son of a -"

"AH AH AH, LANGUAGE!" Bill interrupted, with a wink. "TRYING TO PRESERVE THAT Y-7 RATING HERE!"

this is my favourite fucking joke in the entire fic

can you imagine how much funnier it would've been if I actually had kept the entire fic Y-7 rated

"Why does everyone keep forgetting I'm Mizar?"

#getrektbill

Chapter Fourteen

I really don't have anything more to say about the rest of the scene in Area 51. I think the writing actually says exactly what I want it to say, how I want to say it. It all flowed easily and beautifully, and I barely had to edit it at all. I was and still am pleased as punch about how it came out.

Everything was floating.

This fucking scene, on the other hand.

I rewrote this entire scene from scratch no less than three times (and it was probably actually four). This scene was a righteous pain in my ass. I had one goal with it - I had to get Dipper to offer Ian the deal that would remove all outsiders' memories of Ian being an r!Bill, in exchange for eating all of the Bill-memories left in Ian's head. Usually, that's a good thing. Usually, knowing the purpose of a scene makes it pretty easy and straightforward to write.

This motherfucker, though. This scene was like pulling teeth. I'd get about halfway through Dipper explaining the deal to Ian and why it was important, and then I would just stop. I couldn't go any farther. It was like I was on the end of an imaginary rubber band of Actual Ability To Make The Words Go that I could stretch only so far, but no farther, and only with a great amount of struggle, before I'd be snapped back to the beginning and have to try to start again from there in a direction where maybe I could make it to the next scene before I ran to the end of my rubber band again. I tried over and over and over with no luck, no success, and no small amount of frustration.

I don't know what tipped me off to the fact that, one, I had to actually deal with the demons I'd pulled out of Ian's head, and two, there was so much more I could do with the mindscape than the literary equivalent of talking head panels, but once it clicked into place, it was like that imaginary rubber band just vanished and I wrote the whole thing all the way through in forty-five minutes without stopping. It also required minimal editing, and it is now one of my favourite scenes in the entire fic.

A little while after I finished this chapter, I saw a quote (from Clickhole, so obviously fake, but) attributed to Haruki Murakami, which basically said, "If you can set a scene in the basket of a hot-air balloon, do." It was a joke, of course, but I also, since writing this, think it's genuinely excellent advice.

Also, I managed to sneak in references to used-car-salesman!human!Bill, stylised-skinny-smirky-pretty-boy!human!Bill and how I felt he was kind of a caricature and a lot of versions of him that looked like that also flattened out the depth of the character, and to the apocalypse tapestry, which I actually don't think I've seen mentioned anywhere in the fandom since Escape From Reality aired! Huh. Too bad, it was cool.

Chapter Fifteen

...and the forest outside with all of its eyes is burning, burning -

I just really like this line, I don't know.

The news story about the Nordwext group that's playing when Ian wakes up for the first time is, one, yes, a reference to the Northwest family, and two, a callback to the girls in the factory who Dipper hadn't been able to help back in chapter five. This is him trying to do something that will actually help them and make a difference in their lives, instead of just lighting people on fire from inside out and getting them in trouble for summoning demons.

"... another such facility located under the former Ellens Air Force Base in Idaho."

Ellens Air Force Base is entirely fictional. It was invented for an episode of the X-Files, Deep Throat, where Mulder actually sees a UFO up close and personal (before having it wiped from his mind by the government). I couldn't resist.

I actually researched eye removal for this chapter. It took a lot of psyching up and then realising I could probably start with Wikipedia and click though to their sources without ever having to brave the minefield of Google Suggested Images.

He'd never seen this ring of trees (aspen? Birch?) in his life...

When I wrote this, I had the clearing where Gideon first summons Bill in mind. I also deliberately used descriptors, when Ian looks over and sees he's holding hands with himself, that could apply to either Ian or Bill.

"Oh, demons ... We can deal with demons."

I love Mira's parents.

Guess whooo put in a Twin Peaks reference without knowing basically anything about Twin Peaks!...okay, I could not pass up the opportunity. Besides, you know Ian watched Twin Pines at a formative age, and nearly flipped when he found out they were resurrecting it as Twin Pines: The Returnening.

He’s also a big fan (and friend) of Lauren Mephistopheles, but there is absolutely nothing that will make him actually watch more than ten minutes of Friendship is Prestidigitation. Sorry, Lauren. Some things are too terrifying even for an ex-demon in human skin.

And here we have the culmination of the Rosa Darling Redemption Arc! Ian telling her that Bill played all of them is, as she correctly deduces, a test - if she took the out as offered, played off her own responsibility, he’d know that he really couldn’t trust her to recognise what she’d done wrong and try to fix it. At that point, he probably would’ve had to ask Dipper to remove her memories, too. It’s a lucky thing for both of them that she got a clue!

“State-of-the-art prosthetic.” Rosa clasped her hands behind her back. “This model’s so new it’s not even on the market yet. Which, uh, would mean that technically you’d be part of a clinical trial -”

“A guinea pig,” Ian said, softly.

Just like Bill made Dipper into! I’m a genius.

“You’re not my father,” Ian says at last.

Ian’s father shrugs. “Does it matter, if I’m right?” He puts his glasses back on, light hitting the lenses just so that Ian can’t see his eyes. “Does any of this matter?”

Ian thinks.

“Yes,” he says.

Hi, my name is Mary, and I love Terry Pratchett’s writing.

“You know what,” Ian said, still looking up at the ceiling, at the hoist that dangled over the bed and the dark bulb in the reading lamp, “it’s been - three days? Four days? A couple days since we narrowly escaped death and you haven’t kissed me even once.”

“You haven’t kissed me either,” Mira said, with an affronted look, but there was a hint of laughter in her voice.

Remember how I said they started out forced and stilted? Yeah. I think that was just inexperience and a lack of familiarity with the characters. Let this be a lesson unto me: write the whole damn thing, then go back and rewrite the first, like, until it starts sounding natural again.

“Mira, don’t call me nerdface,” Alcor grumbled, coalescing out of the dark and fussing with his cufflinks.

“Okay, dorkbreath,” Mira agreed, just to hear Alcor’s long-suffering sigh.

Case in point.

Epilogue

Toby!

Everybody loves Toby. I guess I’m no exception. I am a sucker. Also I really wanted to show how the whole Ian thing affected Dipper’s relationship with Toby, while not actually causing it to deviate at all from what had already been established as TAU canon.

“Fragile neurological attachment, huh?” Dipper said, under his breath, and then, loud enough to hear, “Well, now you’ve got me.”

That’s all, folks!

Some more RB-related song recs, before I go:

- The Garden, by July Talk (This ain’t Johnny Carson/I got thoughts that ain’t my own/I’m talkin’ black souls dressed in red and things that I shoulda never known)

- I Run Roulette, by Boots (I’ve been tricked into a thousand different ways/to slide myself away right down the drain)

- Better Not Wake The Baby, by the Decemberists (make your moan of your lot in life, split your mind half-crazy/gouge your eyes with a butter knife)

- Tic Toc, by Mother Mother (the Sandman told me, there’s no use in listening)

and because shush, it’s a great song and I had it on repeat for writing a decent chunk of the middle bits

- Out Of The Woods, by Taylor Swift (but the monsters turned out to be just trees/when the sun came up you were lookin’ at me)

#chatter #reincarnation blues #holy hell why am I so long-winded and opinionated #blogg-saron

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