#oh snap fourth wall spoiler burn

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 121: New Semester

Previously on BnHA: After an intense shounen throwdown, Kacchan emerged victorious. Then All Might showed up and revealed he had been spying on them. He explained to Katsuki why he chose Deku to inherit his quirk, and told him what happened at Kamino wasn’t Katsuki’s fault. Then he gave him a mini hug, no big deal, I didn’t cry or anything. Anyway, he told Deku and Katsuki that heroes need to have Katsuki’s strength and Deku’s spirit both. And he told them that if they could recognize each other and raise each other up, they would both become the best heroes. At this point that was more than good enough for me, but then to cap it all off, Kacchan was officially inducted into the Club of People Who Know Deku’s Secret, and the circle of trust was expanded. Ugh, this whole little mini-arc has been incredible. Where do we even go from here.

Today on BnHA: All Might lets Kacchan in on The Whole Deal with All for One and all that stuff. Kacchan and Deku become Official Rivals™. Aizawa grounds them and sends them off to bed. The next morning the rest of class 1-A (i.e. the actual good kids who don’t cause trouble and don’t sneak out to beat the living shit out of each other in the middle of the night) heads off to the opening ceremony for the new term. Kacchan and Deku have an actual conversation with no shouting and no crying and no one is getting punched or dying or whatnot! It’s less than ten sentences long but MY GOD PEOPLE IT’S A START. Class 1-B shows up for two seconds to remind everyone that they still exist. Rat Principal gives a long and boring speech and mentions the word “successors” exactly once. All Might is all, “successors, eh?” and has a flashback to when he was first hired by U.A. prior to meeting Deku, and Rat Principal was all “hey we got someone for you here.” WHO COULD THIS MYSTERIOUS PERSON BE.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 151 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.) 

I wonder if I’m emotionally prepared to continue this shit. well here goes

haHA WE’RE STILL IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS SCENE OMG. IT’S STILL GOING. SURE, WHY NOT. I LOVE IT, LET’S CONTINUE

All Might says he’s sorry Bakugou ended up learning his secret. not in a “why does this asshole know” way, but in a “that’s a huge burden to have been carrying” way

so basically All Might understands how heavy that was for him along with everything else, so he’s apologizing

Kacchan says it’s no big and it’s too risky to tell anyone else anyway. yeah no shit

OH MY GOD

HE’S GETTING THE SAME TREATMENT AS DEKU. THE FULL STORY ABOUT ALL MIGHT AND ALL FOR ONE

which, yeah. seeing as Kacchan actually met All for One face-to-face, he knows about that part of it even more intimately than Deku

and also if he understands the whole thing and knows how long it’s been going on, it might ease some of his lingering guilt just a bit more. because All Might’s right, it really was something that was going to happen eventually no matter what

you guys I’m just really enjoying Kacchan being part of the inner circle so much. this means he gets to be in on all important plot-related things from here on out. because you can’t very well trust him with this and then not keep him in the loop moving forward

(ETA: although I’d like them to do a better job of this! granted I’m still like 60 chapters behind, so they might have caught him up on the specific thing I’m thinking of by this point. but if not, I’m officially launching Keep Kacchan in the Loop 2019 dammit. who do I need to get in touch with. what’s Horikoshi’s email)

anyway, obviously they’re not showing the whole scene because IT WOULD TAKE SO MUCH TIME!! but please show me Kacchan’s reaction now

okay good they’re showing it

lol now that he knows, he’s even more annoyed that Deku went and blabbed to him on their second fucking day of school lmao

(ETA: to be fair, it’s only because he went and challenged Deku and practically blew him up and then had a meltdown after. on their second day. and now we have this shit happening at the start of their second term. they still have two more terms and then two more years of this. will they survive?? will we survive?! stay tuned!!)

and All Might’s telling Kacchan again -- because yeah, he already did, but this is important for him to understand -- that it wasn’t his fault

and obviously words alone can’t make that kind of feeling go away completely. but he understands it in full now and knows the whole story, and to hear All Might tell him so firmly should help a lot

and now there’s a character development moment happening! no big. it’s just Bakugou having possibly the single most important and defining moment in his life which is going to change his entire course from here on out haha. it’s cool. I’m cool

(ETA: even higher. implying that Deku is now the one to beat. the goal post. the watermark. just casually acknowledging it. “chosen one.” no bitterness, no jealousy, and no underestimating him or chalking him down as not worthy either. even as he declares that he’s going to surpass him, he simultaneously recognizes that Deku is still going to be right up there with him at the top. of course. he’s the one All Might chose. how could he not be.

yeah, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna bask in this moment for just a sec. I fucking love rivals, guys. I really, really do.)

how fucking great is this. how fucking perfect is this. they hashed everything out and it didn’t wreck their dynamic or make it stale or boring. on the contrary, it now has more potential than ever before. they’re still rivals. they’ll still push themselves to become better while setting each other as the benchmark. and thus pushing each other to become better as well. but the confusion and hostility and resentment is gone. this is healthy rivalry. they’re not going to all of a sudden become buddy-buddy, but they understand each other now, and there’s a balance there that was missing before

YOU SEE, THEY CAN STILL SQUABBLE AND ANNOY EACH OTHER. but it’s so much purer now

THANK YOU ALL MIGHT. THE REAL MVP

can I just say, in hindsight, Kacchan’s emotions were going to come bursting out of him at some point no matter what. you could see during the fight how hard he was struggling to control them and to clamp back down on them, but he kept losing that battle and breaking down. but All Might is the reason he and Deku were able to resolve things so calmly and healthily in the end. he took full advantage of the fact that they both respect him so much lol. he’s such a good dad and I want him to take both of these kids out for ice cream

-- oh my god

speaking of good dads

well actually this one’s more of a mom

children you’ve interrupted this man’s beauty sleep and I’m afraid you must pay

also

can we just stop and appreciate it for a little bit. why does his hair look better in his off hours than it fucking does at work, honestly. were you just bored and wanting a change of pace. I guess it doesn’t really matter does it

does Aizawa’s ponytail have a fanclub you guys. asking for a friend

All Might’s telling him to hold up a sec and that it was his fault! wow taking one for the team

also can we take another moment and appreciate how fucking cute lil Deku and Kacchan are, being sat down and scolded like the troublemakers they are

now we’re having a quick flashback to All Might meeting Aizawa outside

Aizawa’s telling him about the fight, and All Might is all “I think I know what’s going on, can you leave it to me?”

and yes, just a reminder that even though Aizawa always seems to know everything, and even though he’s a trustworthy guy, he doesn’t actually know about One for All (even though I’d argue that he should, since Deku is his student too)

so now he’s confused and asking what this has to do with All Might, and

I fucking love so much that Kacchan gets to be a part of these moments now omfg

good thing All Might is a smooth fucking operator

fucking look at this master at work, though? he sticks to the truth enough to keep the whole thing plausible, and manages to let Aizawa in on the fact that Bakugou’s mental health has been shaky lately, so now he knows about it too and can be on the alert for it if it becomes an issue again. and he even helps make it so the boys will hopefully be in less trouble

so Aizawa looks a bit more understanding now (but like. still Aizawa though), but he says “nonetheless, rules are rules” and that he’ll dole out an appropriate punishment

fifty points from Gryffindor. but at least he won’t fucking expel them lol

who do you fucking think

Kacchan’s owning up to it because he’s a good, honest boy who owns up to his shit and doesn’t try to weasel out

and Deku is also just such a good fucking kid because he immediately adds that he fought back. yeah, after about a whole chapter’s worth of Kacchan diving at you trying to blow you up, and only after he broke down and started fucking crying and you realized it was a therapy fight

anyways. so they’re grounded

TWELVE YEARS DUNGEON. EVERYONE, DUNGEON. SEVEN YEARS, NO TRIALS

lmao this is why he’s the mom. the strict disciplinarian these kids fucking need

I want to read Bakugou’s written statement of regret so bad

(ETA: I imagine it being a single page with giant font containing only two words: “I REGRET.” he feels it’s sufficient. Aizawa just stares for a moment after Kacchan hands it to him. and then he just shrugs and he’s like, “eh. okay.”)

Aizawa’s also yelling at them to go to the infirmary if they need to. because yeah they beat the living fuck out of each other. Bakugou’s face got folded in on itself, and he slammed Deku into the concrete from like three stories up lmao

buuut, he says to “heal your selfish injuries by yourselves” and not to bother Recovery Girl. yeah as if they want to be chewed out by anyone else tonight

what are you going to do with these kids I swear. omgggg I love this

so now it’s morning and news spreads fast

lollll I love it!! so much!! the best!

GIRL YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. IT WAS A WHOLE THING. BUT LONG STORY SHORT, YES

Deku says... it’s hard to put into words. ffff

now Iida’s telling them off. because he also thinks he is their dad. poor BakuDeku dealing with dads scolding them left and right

Shouto’s asking Bakugou what he’s going to do about the provisional license supplementary lessons and Bakugou says it’s none of his business. sorry for caring

but really Shouto don’t worry. he just likes to go about his character development the hard way is all

so now everyone’s leaving

AND WE’RE STICKING WITH THESE GUYS

I have no idea what’s going to happen but I’m loving it so much

BAKUGOU IS INITIATING CONVERSATION!?!?!?!

(ETA: nope, Mangastream got it wrong. it should be Deku asking Kacchan what he thought of his shoot style. I would have just posted FA’s scan here instead, but then my reaction wouldn’t have made sense)

NO I DON’T KNOW, WHAT ABOUT HIS SHOOT STYLE

there’s a really long pause, which it turns out it just Bakugou not knowing how to do this without being awkward about it

nothing to see here, just Bakugou fucking Katsuki giving free advice to his rivalfriend Deku because they have a healthy rival relationship. just a little thing we like to call Character Development. it’s how we do things here in BnHA. we develop our fucking characters

so Deku’s asking him about it, and Kacchan’s like, ‘how can I make sure this is still surly’

heeeeee

:))))

(ETA: and now I am going to post the correct translation though because I love this part.

:))))))))))))

I now have a headcanon of Kacchan following through on his vow to adopt Deku’s “observe everyone else and learn from them in order to get stronger” philosophy by starting his own stalker notebook (in secret. obviously. no one can ever know). because if it works for Deku then he should at least try it, goddammit. only his notebook doesn’t work at all because his observations mostly consist of things like “fuck this asshole” and “her quirk is such bullshit” and “when he punches it pisses me off.” one day the others find it and they’re just like “holy shit Bakugou I can’t believe you have a burn book.”)

I expect we’re going to see a lot of the back of Bakugou’s head during these moments in the future lol. I don’t mind. LET HIM KEEP HIS DIGNITY

so now we’re cutting to U.A.

they’re heading to one of the training grounds and Iida is telling everyone to move swiftly and DON’T BREAK THE LINE!!!

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH

(ETA: he wakes up at night in a cold sweat thinking about this)

ah, interesting. Ochako says Aizawa wasn’t at the entrance ceremony either

(ETA: so far this doesn’t seem to be plot related that I can recall, so I’m going to assume he just wanted to skip out on the boring speeches and have a nap instead)

here comes Monoma. I was wondering when he would hear this news

what are the odds he failed his own damn self

lol Kirishima’s asking the same thing

but Monoma’s laughing

oh snap

oh yeah!? well! our kids had character development! so

lmao Todoroki can’t handle the shame

HE’S LET YOU ALL DOWN

oh my god finally it’s that pony girl from before! I definitely looked at those bonus pages too soon lol

she has a weird accent. it’s cause she’s American, I remember that from her bio

anyway she says that their two classes will have a class together during second semester. like a one-time thing? or like a regular class. because that’ll be nuts

(ETA: I think that maybe this is either happening right now in the manga or just wrapped up, because I feel like there was a lot of class B stuff making the rounds on tumblr over the past couple of months)

Monoma’s whispering something to her

omg

NO DON’T STOP. TEACH HER MORE

oh shit look who it is!!!

Sero says he seems a little “rougher” now. does he? idk

he should have been put in the hero course after the sports festival. and since they’re showing him again and it’s the start of a new semester, can I dare to hope that they’re about to rectify that?

so all the students are lined up for the opening ceremony, and the Rat Principal (whose name I finally memorized in spite of my best efforts. but to me he’ll always still be Rat Principal, so there, Nezu) is waving at everyone

he’s rambling on about how everyone needs proper sleep. wow what a captivating speech

this is followed by a page of All Might and Thirteen, which I’m going to post because it does a great job of showing something I was trying not to get too excited about during the BakuDeku fight

namely, the fact that All Might has finally, FINALLY started wearing clothes that actually fit him omgggg

and the fitted shirt/vest/rolled-up sleeves combo looks damn good on him, I gotta say

anyway, so yet again an authority figure is lecturing everyone about the effects of All Might’s absence and how they’re going to face great difficulties moving forward

honestly, by this point they fucking get it. we all get it. shit’s tough

he’s mentioning hero internships that the second and third-year students are engaged in, and I figured it was just more of the same that the first-years did in the previous semester. but Mina and Tsuyu are whispering to each other, and it seems like they don’t know what this is about, so that’s interesting. maybe they do longer internships in the second and third years since they have their provisional licenses by that point

Rat Principal is still talking. I’ll just post the rest of the speech so I don’t have to paraphrase it

yes, everyone is very invested in making sure the new generation of heroes is prepared for the new post-All Might society. it’s great, but we covered this exact same thing less than ten chapters ago at the end of the provisional exam arc. so this is kind of a retread now

now RP is finally stepping down from the podium and bragging about how he kept thing short and sweet. ahaha. funny. jokes

and All Might is reflecting on RP’s use of the word “successors”

and remembering what Bakugou said to Deku the previous night

and he’s flashing back to, I guess, his job interview with RP when he agreed to come teach at U.A.

flashback!RP is sliding a piece of paper toward All Might

and now All Might’s thinking that U.A. used to contact him every once in a while regarding his search for a successor

oh my god

I’m almost positive that this is the guy with wings that I’ve seen in fanart and shit. oh my god

(ETA: lmao it is not. however, now I’m for reals almost positive that I’ve been spoiled on who the wings guy is, which was bound to happen since it’s been two and a half months since I read this chapter, and I’ve only gotten 30 chapters further in that entire time. and also because once I caught up with the anime I gave in and started reading fanfic. so basically I have only myself to blame)

so Rat Principal thought this guy was worthy of being All Might’s successor, huh. well, he might not be wrong about that. in fact, even though Deku is officially the one who inherited One for All, I’m gradually becoming more and more certain that the next “Symbol of Peace” won’t be a single hero at all, but rather multiple individuals, and possibly a whole new generation. but at the very least, I envision Deku and Kacchan being at the top together, the same way Batman and Superman lead the Justice League and Iron Man and Captain America lead the Avengers. and I can just see the other students from U.A. forming a team just like that, and that team being the new Symbol of Peace that keeps evil at bay and brings hope to the world

so yeah. successors. a whole lot of them. at least I hope so

 haha and that’s the end of the chapter but I guess we have to skip the bonus content since I already posted it! Tsunotori Pony, who has horns similar to Mina and seems to have nothing to actually do with ponies whatsoever, and who is from America. and is adorable

[gumnut-logic]

V. T. Green (Part 2)

Title: V. T. Green

Part One | Part Two

Author: Gumnut

25 Aug – 1 Sep 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: “Did you discover this, Brains?” He frowned. There was something familiar about this. Maybe they had discussed it recently.

“Oh, no, this is V. T. Green. The man is brilliant.”

Word count: 3161

Spoilers & warnings: None.

Timeline: Standalone

Author’s note: This is one that I have been meaning to write for some time. I hope you enjoy it :D Many thanks to both @scribbles97 and @vegetacide for all their wonderful help with this.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

He didn’t get more coffee because they were called out not five minutes after he swallowed the dregs of what he already had.

Everything was dropped and International Rescue deployed. They were in the air within minutes, Scott in One, Virgil, Gordon and Alan in Two, and on their way to the Canadian Rockies to save a party of climbers caught in a rockfall.

It was pretty standard. Well, as standard as any rescue could be except his littlest brother was stoked on caffeine and did something really stupid.

The climbers were pinned on the side of a narrow canyon. Thunderbird Two landed on bare rock some distance off. Scott hovered out of disturbance range and deployed a drone to get clearer readings on the stability of the area.

Stable wasn’t quite the right word.

“Virg, this is eggshells. One wrong move and the whole north side of the canyon is going to collapse. I’m surprised it hasn’t already. Freeze-thaw fractures all down its length.” A pause. “Looks as if the canyon was formed by a similar movement in the past.”

After some consideration and throwing out of ideas, Virgil decided a helipod and a rescue rig would be the best option. The air was almost ominous in its stillness and the less weight on that north side, the better. The less disturbance, the better. The faster they got down there, the better.

Virgil tasked Gordon with piloting the pod, while Alan assisted Virgil with the rescue rig itself, the ten seats more than enough to grab five climbers off the vertical side of the canyon. Within minutes the three of them were hovering halfway down the crevice, Virgil reaching for the first of the injured climbers.

“Thank god for International Rescue.” The first man literally leapt across the space between the rock and the rig before Virgil could even say hello, much less do an assessment for injury. The party had obviously been climbing further up and had been caught in the first of what was likely to be several rockfalls.

“Lower us down to the next victim, Gordon.” Scott’s drone hovered protectively, following them and monitoring the situation.

The rig shifted smoothly under his brother’s manoeuvring. The second victim was a woman with a broken arm and scratches down the side of her face. Despite this, she was calm as Alan assisted her onto the rig, providing a safety line as she disconnected from her hastily secured piton.

They hurried onto the third victim, who had fallen further and was hanging precariously from a ledge, safety line swinging as they moved.

“No, you must help Jenna first! She’s pinned.”

“Sir, please keep still.” Scott was listing the injuries of the fourth climber as Virgil stabilised the third while he continued to protest. It didn’t look good for Jenna at all.

It was one of those moments of decision all the Tracy brothers hated.

“Gordon, lower us to the fifth victim.”

“What? You can’t leave her!”

“Sir, we are not leaving her. This rock face is fragile. Our priority is to save as many of you as possible, as fast as possible. Jenna will take longer than the fifth member of your team. We must secure them, before tackling Jenna.” Who may not even survive. It wasn’t fair to risk the fifth person because of the fourth.

The man continued to protest as Gordon lowered the rig past the prone Jenna. His yells grew louder and more desperate. There were tears.

“Virgil, I’ll stay with Jenna while you rescue the fifth climber.” And before he could stop him, Alan had fired his grapple gun, disengaged his safety line with the rig, and leapt onto the wall.

“Alan!” His voice was echoed by Scott’s in his helmet. “What the hell are you doing?! The rock face is too fragile!”

“It will hold long enough. Just grab the other guy.” Alan secured his safety line to the unconscious Jenna

“Scott! Give me a scan!”

His brother sent the drone’s read outs to Virgil’s HUD. Shit. “Alan, don’t move!”

“Virg-“

It happened so fast it was a blur.

A sharp crack and the whole rock face was moving, falling. His brother and the limp Jenna with it. “Alan!”

Virgil clambered over the rig, his boots hitting the empty seat pads one after the other.

Alan was falling.

He wasn’t secured, his grapple piton falling with the rock face.

His little brother was going to die at the bottom of this godawful crevice.

No.

Virgil jumped.

And reached.

God, please, no.

His fingers hooked the edge of Alan’s harness just as his own safety line yanked tight, wrenching him hard. Alan’s weight pulled on his shoulder, but it was the sudden addition of Jenna, the safety line between her and his brother snapping tight, that sparked and burned the muscles in his arm and shoulder.

A gasped yell and he forced his fingers to stay closed. Shit. Damn. Ow. God, that hurt.

He suddenly realised his eyes were squeezed shut and he shoved them open.

“What the hell are you doing?!” It wasn’t any of his brothers, it was...”Jenna?! Oh god, Jenna!” The third rescuee.

“Virgil? What the hell?!” That was a brother. Alan.

And then there were more brothers in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut again for just a moment, before rasping out, “Scott, need a hand.”

But there was already thunder far above. A number of breaths later and a shadow passed him, lowering itself into the canyon. His eldest brother’s arms appeared in his field of vision, a safety line hooking Alan to the rescue rig, back up for the pain holding his little brother aloft. “Hold on, Virgil. I will secure the rescuee.” The grapple line supporting his brother lowered, a basket stretcher dangling from it.

“FAB.” It was whispered.

He focussed on keeping his grip on his little brother. The same little brother was swearing colourfully until a sharp word from Scott cut him off. Time passed slowly. A tug here and there sparked white flashes of pain.

He kept his fingers curled.

“You can let go now, Virgil.” His brother’s voice was soft.

“Fifth climber...”

“Already have him, Virgil, he’s safe. Alan is secure. You can let go.” Blue fingers wrapped around his and tugged gently.

His fingers let go and the sudden lack of weight shot up through the length of his arm and shoulder. A sharp gasp deteriorated into a groan as his brother, now held aloft by his jet pack, deftly tucked Virgil’s arm against his side, strapping it to his body with a support bandage.

“Okay, up you go.” And Scott wrapped his arms around him and they rose upwards. A second or two later and Virgil found himself strapped into his own rescue rig.

The third rescuee pummelled Scott with questions about Jenna.

“Sir, she is receiving the best care possible. We will be evacuating to the nearest hospital as fast as possible. Gordon, take us up.”

The next hours became a blur of the green of his ‘bird, his medbay, the white of the hospital and the blue of his youngest brother’s eyes.

Alan refused to speak to him. Gordon hovered and prodded in his usual way, obviously unhappy with the silence. Turned out Virgil had torn several muscles in both his arm and shoulder, almost dislocating it, and wouldn’t be flying for a few weeks at least, so he had to sit behind his aquanaut brother as he flew Virgil’s ‘bird home.

Alan sat in the co-pilot’s seat and said nothing the entire flight.

The moment TB2 came to a halt in her hangar, Alan was on his feet and lowering the hatch, leaving both of his brothers staring after him.

“You need a hand, Virg?”

Virgil, still feeling the effects of the painkillers liberally dealt out at the hospital, unstrapped himself and forced himself to his feet. “I’m fine, thanks, Gordon.” His brother shot him a sceptical expression.

Virgil straightened up. “Good flight home. Don’t forget post-flight.” It worked. Gordon glared at him before turning back to the controls.

A step and he made his way over to the hatchway that had retracted after his brother stormed off and lowered himself to the floor of the hangar. His arm was in a tightly secured sling curled up against his chest. Fortunately, or not, it was his right arm, so his baldric had been able to be removed by Scott at the hospital along with his harness and toolkit, but his sleeve had been taken to with a lasercutter and this uniform was destined for the recycler.

The hangar air was cool on his exposed skin.

A quick visit to his rooms to change and then he would have to face the debrief. A little light headed, he was not looking forward to it.

The elevator wall served nicely as a crutch.

-o-o-o-

“Why the hell did you do that?!” Angry blue eyes stared at him in accusation. “I had it all under control until you screwed it all up.”

“Under control? You were falling, Alan!”

“I had my grapple gun! If you hadn’t grabbed me, I could have spun around and secured myself!”

“If you hadn’t jumped onto that rock face, I wouldn’t have had to grab you!”

He hadn’t made it to the comms room. Hadn’t even made it to his rooms yet. Alan had jumped him just outside the elevator and tried to rip him a new one.

“I had it under control.”

“No, you didn’t, Alan! You caused that slide. You knew it was fragile, why the hell did you risk it?”

“She was his wife.”

“So? You risked yours, mine, the fifth climber and hers because you couldn’t wait a few extra moments.”

“He was in distress.”

“Everybody was in distress. What the hell, Alan?” How his brother even knew the pair were married, Virgil had no idea.

“Sometimes, you are just stupid, Virgil.” It was said quietly, but with malice. It froze the retort in Virgil’s throat. Blue eyes looked up at him with such derision. “Just stupid.” With that his little brother turned his back on him and stormed off.

-o-o-o-

Scott ran his hands through his hair and stared at his brother across the lounge. Gordon stared back, a worried expression on his face. Alan sat to his right, a ball of defiant anger. John hovered in the middle of the room, slightly distracted by something out of range of the holosensors, but frown no less prominent.

Virgil was absent.

Scott hit his comms for a second time. “Virgil? Debrief. We’re waiting for you.”

Nothing.

“He’s in his bedroom.” John’s voice was calm, the hint obvious. “He’s still in his uniform, so I’m still getting partial vitals.” Partial due to the shredded sleeve, no doubt.

Scott sighed. This was brewing to be a nasty debrief. He had put aside his own anger pending an explanation from his youngest brother, but that same youngest brother had obviously not bothered to do the same. Standing, he straightened his shirt. “I’ll check on him. You two stay here. We have a lot to cover.”

Alan just glared as Gordon gave him a single nod. Brains sat in another corner completely absorbed by his tablet. He could feel Grandma’s eyes following him as he left the room.

An elevator ride later, a soft knock on his brother’s door had as much effect as hailing him on comms.

A flick of fingers and he overrode the lock on the door and slipped inside quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had snuck into his brother’s quarters and he had no doubt it wouldn’t be the last, but it wasn’t something he did lightly.

He found Virgil asleep on his bed, curled up on one side, his left arm outstretched, fingers limp and pointing to the tablet face down on the floor.

Scott fought the urge to roll his eyes. Leaning over, he picked up the tablet and tucked his brother’s arm back onto the bed. Virgil, as predicted, didn’t stir in the slightest.

Soft snores danced around the room.

Scott placed the tablet on the bedside table. Disturbed, the screen flickered to life.

With a photo of his mother.

The picture was so unexpected, it jarred him and he found the tablet in his hands again. Brown and smiling eyes stared up at him from a face that echoed her second eldest son’s so much that Scott found himself swallowing. A glance at the man on the bed asked questions that weren’t answered.

Straightening up, his eyes darted back to the photo, drawing in the beloved yet pain-filled details. A blink and he shut down the screen, placing the tablet back where it belonged.

Virgil’s debrief could wait.

He left just as silently as he entered.

-o-o-o-

The room was dark when Virgil finally woke. The blinds were still open, the night sky darkening to a long-lost sunset and it took him a moment to work out what time of the day it was. A blink and his attempt to roll over reminded him of exactly why he was in bed.

“Augh.”

Still in his uniform. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He had just needed a moment. Lightheadedness and the fog of painkillers forcing him to sit down. Sit down had become lie down and lie down had become sleep.

A sigh. At least he’d managed to take off his boots.

He stared at his bedroom ceiling. A long time ago he had taken a brush to it, swirling pastels of greens and blues into a calming abstract for moments such as these. His eyes traced the lines, travelling in a meditative path designed to create calm.

He sought it, but couldn’t find it. His shoulder and arm ached, very obviously overdue for another blasted painkiller. But most of all the disdain in his little brother’s eyes haunted him.

Virgil wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t taking his brother’s words to heart. It was more the thought that his brother thought he was stupid. Sure, he was one of five extremely high achieving brothers. Unlike the other four, he had never felt the need to prove his knowledge or his skill beyond gaining his qualification. He knew what he was capable of. He had thought his brothers did, too. The thought that he didn’t have that confidence cut him to the core.

Had he lost Alan’s trust?

And if so, why?

Perhaps it was just words said in anger. Alan was volatile and had been known to go off the deep end in the past.

Maybe his own response to the situation was poorly considered. Thinking back and seeing his brother falling to almost certain death...no, he couldn’t see another way to react. So, Alan might have been able to fire another grapple, but Virgil had been there. There was no way he was going to leave his brother’s life to chance.

But then perhaps that was what Alan was angry about. Perhaps he should have trusted his little brother to have the skill to save himself.

Shit.

The thought of letting him fall...hell, Alan was his little brother. He’d prefer it was himself falling rather than Alan. From the days of yanking him out of haystacks, through to helping him with his homework, through to dropping him off at the local mall...goddamnit, he was his little brother. If he could, he would save him, regardless. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was a matter of love.

If that lined him up with smother brother number one, well, so be it.

Even if he was the stupid one in his little brother’s eyes.

And yes, that still hurt.

His lips thinned. He needed to talk to Alan.

A blink.

Shit.

He’d missed debrief.

Scott would not be happy.

Grabbing his tablet, he expected to find a firm reminder or a chain of queries for a report.

A frown as one of his favourite photos of his mother appeared as the tablet flickered on.

Mom.

He stared at her smiling face for a few seconds before minimising the image. He had several photos of his mother on the tablet. They gave him strength. Reminded him of where he came from and what was important.

His messages came up, and, sure enough, at the top of the list was Scott Tracy. But the note was kindly, asking him to check in when he woke and a reminder to take his medication. Virgil found a small smile on his lips, a fondness swelling somewhere in his midsection. Sometimes it was nice to have an older brother looking out for you, smother or not.

A quick glance at the rest of his notifications and the fondness switched to awe. Several thousand messages were sitting on his blog.

Hell.

But it wasn’t until his eyes landed on an extensive message from one Dr HH that his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

Dear Doctor Green.

It is with much admiration that I send this request for communication. I have been an avid follower of your work for the last year and feel that your work and mine would complement each other in a great many ways...

And Brains, as it was so obviously Doctor Hiram Hackenbacker, proceeded to gush about the polymer equations as much as he had over breakfast, if not more, adding a number of high-end equations and possible applications. He didn’t quite say the words ‘International Rescue’, nor did he mention any of the proprietary knowledge that existed only on this island, but he did end the letter with...

...It is my hope that you will be willing to join your intellect with mine in the aim to save many lives in the future.

Yours sincerely,

Dr HH

It was as much a fan letter as a genuine request to share knowledge.

The rest of the notifications paled in comparison. Brains saw him as an intellectual equal?

He had been working with Brains for years. They had been swapping ideas forever, but Virgil had always considered the older engineer far above him in intellect. Brains invented the Thunderbirds. Virgil just kept them operational and threw the occasional idea in Brains’ direction.

Hell, Brains had several doctorates. Virgil hadn’t studied anywhere near that level.

It suddenly all became uncomfortable, and a little ironic considering Alan’s earlier accusation.

He dropped the tablet and went back to staring at the ceiling, eyes automatically tracking the lines of swirl yet again.

The moon was rising over the edge of the sea and a breeze had picked up, tossing the palm trees around outside his window.

He knew he had to get up and face the music. Scott wanted to speak to him, he needed another dose of those brain numbing painkillers and he had to talk to his littlest brother.

Instead he lay there lost in thought.

-o-o-o-

End Part Two.

Part Three

[jmespottuh]

❛  if there’s one thing the gods love, it’s tragedy. with wings that burn and boys who fall. ❜

* ╰   brandon arreaga  ;  17 ;  he/him  —— wow, james potter sure has changed. i guess he is feeling isolated from the other gryffindor members. guess you can’t really blame them. i still remember them being so charming & incisive now they just seem dependent & inexorable.  guess being a  pureblood isn’t helping matters much either.  i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.

links: pinterest, stats character parallels: bellamy blake ( the 100 ), shane madej ( buzzfeed unsolved ), jake peralta ( brooklyn nine-nine ), stefan salvatore ( the vampire diaries ), scott mccall ( teen wolf ), steve harrington ( stranger things )

james henry potter ( named for two his two grandfathers, maternal and paternal respectively ) was born on april 4th, 1960 to two of the most loving parents a child could have.

fleamont and euphemia had been trying for a child for years. they’d been together for basically all of time, having been that typical good-looking, well liked couple in hogwarts that everyone always just assumes will get married ( spoiler alert: they did ), however had had to postpone kids due to fleamont’s brief stint as a professional quidditch player for eight years following their graduation. after that, they would try every month for a child, and after many years of disappointment, eventually gave up. it was during this time that fleamont developed the sleekeazy hair potion which only added to their immense wealth. 

finally at age forty-one, they were surprised with the arrival of james. obviously, they saw him as their miracle child, and as such he was pampered and completely spoiled from the moment he was born.

i cannot stress enough how much this spoiled upbringing shaped james into the person he is today. if you’re wondering why he was ever an arrogant prick, it’s because he was always used to getting absolutely everything he ever wanted. he grew up with money, he grew up with fame and with every bit of attention he could garner, and so it was really no wonder he was a bit of an asshole by the time he started at hogwarts.

obviously, james had a pretty cushy childhood, and as such, shit didn’t start getting real until he started at hogwarts. 

it took all of three seconds for the hat to sort him into gryffindor, and i guess you could say he pretty much considered himself to be the gem of the house. he was the absolute epitome of a gryffindor, basically considered him the poster boy and all but expected everyone to love him.

really did not help his ego to know that everyone did.

in typical sterotype-gryffindor fashion, james hated slytherin. he had always been taught growing up that purists were basically the root of all evil, and his father had had no qualms in lumping all these people in with the house of the snakes. james and his friends took a particular disliking to severus snape almost immediately for the poncy way in which he seemed to believe he was superior to all for his intelligence and his house status, and this dislike only grew when lily evans was tossed into the mix, too.

for basically the first four or five years of hogwarts, james really was that stereotypical arrogant asshole that he’s often made out to be. he always got everything he asked for, he was incredibly popular and incredibly intelligent, he had the most amazing friends and his eyes on the most amazing girl. he was set!! shit was good!!

shit was not good, though. definitely was not.

despite having known of remus’ furry little problem since second year, things didn’t really start to settle in james how awful it was until third or fourth year. he hated seeing his friend in pain, he hated that he couldn’t help, and so he rallied the boys to put into action their worst plan yet!!!!

becoming animagi!!!!!!

it took fucking forever, obviously, but by the end of fourth year they did it!! we stan icons

except then in fifth year shit hit the fan again in just, like… so many ways

first, it was the whole severus ‘mudblood’ situation. honestly, james was absolutely furious. he’d always hated snape but this just made everything 1000 times worse. even if it had happened to anyone else, he would have been fuming. but for it to have happened to lily like… yikes. 

this was also a horrible time for james though because lily rejected him for the thousandth time. like, look, what a yikes thing to think when she was just called a mudblood, but frankly he was sick of being rejected and he was sick of being the asshole who kept pressuring her so that was the breaking point — he gave up on her. 

and tbh, he changed a lot from here on out. grew up!! became a better person bc he saw how horrible snap was and decided he was sick of horrible people!! saw, recognised and acknowledged that just bc he was hot and intelligent and rich he wasn’t always going to get everything he wanted ( see: miss evans ) and just generally learned that oh shit the world doesn’t revolve around him!!!

oh and then there was that whole thing with sirius and snape and remus the werewolf and ohhhh boyyyy…. that infuriated him. 

he loves his bros so much and y’all know he would die for them, but to see his friend abuse remus’ pain and suffering for his own gain was heart wrenching. it just pushed him further to pull him in line, to realise that not everything was about games, or petty rivalry, or ‘ getting the girl ’ — life was heartache and mistakes and it was never going to go the way he wanted it to.

now look, this isn’t all to say that james is now a super strict, super intense, brooding weirdo. he’s still a bit of a child, and he’s still a bit of an arrogant prick, but ultimately what wins out is his morals — every time. he wants to lead the world to a better place, without war and without hate, he wants everyone to have the same opportunities he had as a kid and he wants nothing more than for blood purity to be eradicated.

get that shit outta my house!!! gross!!!!!!

now in his final year, james is always flipping between taking his role as head boy deadly serious and turning it into one big game of mischief. he’s still a marauder at heart, after all, and has definitely abused his power sometimes for the benefit of fun and games, but when it comes down to it, he can be very strict and lowkey paternal. the leader really just…. popped right outta him, it came to play and it came hard, and really you’d think he’s minister for magic with how serious he treats it sometimes.

i hate him.

the disappearance of one of his best friends, one peter pettigrew, landed james to flop pretty fucking hard on the side of seriousness. once you spend months without knowing where your best friend is, thinking he’s dead, you’re bound to start to lose a bit of that which once made you smile. it was this piled on top of what james had already been feeling which led the head boy to start finding ways he could join the revolution within the walls of hogwarts --- it’s been bloody hard but james is determined to make a difference, to make sure no one else he loves suffers in a war that they never asked to fight in the first place.

anyway here’s some fun facts that didn’t fit up top

james is a lot less intense with his hatred for slytherin’s. he has come to recognise that not everyone from that lifestyle is going to be the same, not everyone who grew up a certain way or was sorted into a certain house is going to think with a deadly mind, and while he’s still a bit wary, he’s a lot more relaxed about it, especially as head boy ( gotta at least pretend shit’s fair !!! )

he’s very dependent as in like… boi cannot go a week without his friends. he is used to having people to bounce off, that’s always the type of leader he has been, and as much as he would probably be amazing at anything on his own, he’s never really tried. too scared!! i hate him!!!!!

super unforgiving. like, if you have gotten on his bad side…. i’m sorry. it is going to be very difficult to return from there. his moral compass is pretty black and white, you’re either good or your bad, and if you’ve done something he considers bad well sucks to be you, i guess. sorry not sorry.

takes his quidditch very seriously tbh. so many people have told him he needs to be a pro like his dad, but he’s like haha fuck you i know what i wanna do ( hint hint: he wants to rule that goddamn auror office, make that shit far more efficient then he thinks it is now ). but srsly, he’s so intense abt the game and it really like… idk gets him in the zone, keeps him level-headed in amongst all this chaos. 

he’s smart. i guess. straight a’s and shit idk. just very naturally intelligent, finds everything he does easy, like.. really is that asshole who is just good at everything he does.

[passedoverprotagonist]

spoilers, y’all [PT 2]

[part 1]

Hang on now! Key shouted from narrator’s booth, that can’t be the end, they don’t all know the truth! They haven’t solved anything, that is a fact. You can’t end the tale with their dreams un-intact. …so much has to happen before we can wrap :(

/

E.B. and Guy were so aghast that Sam made it a good few steps away from the table before they yelled “Wait!” and dove to stop him.

Sam let them grab him, turning easily with the hands latched onto his arm and around his waist. His smile twitched.

“What do you mean, turn yourself in?” Guy hissed, nervously aware of the attention from the neighbouring table. He was crouched on the floor next to Sam, E.B. draped along the floor alongside him.

She used her handhold to hoist her upper half up off the floor, and said, “You’re just gonna leave?! What the zip!”

Sam and Guy both gasped, and looked over their shoulders for Michellee. Luckily, she was still waiting in line to pay. Unluckily, she sensed them and sharply turned her head. Her arms crossed and she raised an eyebrow, before gesturing for all of them to get up off the ground right now.

E.B. sprung to her feet, sheepishly dusting the skirt of her dress. Guy scrambled up as well while Sam looked angelic, twiddling his fingers in a little wave at the cash.

Michellee looked reluctantly amused and returned to counting out exact bruckles in preparation for the cashier.

Guy hesitated next to Sam, motivation sapped. Their mohawked server was edging in, clearly to angling to bus their table. The group moved to the door to await their fourth outside, dodging with varying success the IANBP’s other patrons and their belongings sprawled into the passageway as they did.

E.B. used her cuteness powers and weaponized politeness to step easily through. Sam clowned his way to victory, as usual. Guy detoured slightly to spend a moment cupping Michellee’s elbow for support. He wasn’t used to having that, it was wonderful and distracting all at once.

E.B. and Sam popped outside, and sat on a bench together outside the restaurant.

They gazed at the moon, and E.B. slid slowly over until she could rest her cheek against the brim of his hat. She already couldn’t imagine life without Sam and Guy, they and Mr. Jenkins had changed everything for her in only a few days.

She was actually outside! Practically unsupervised! Her world was wider than ever before.

Furthermore, her secret wish of expanding her little family had never been so close to coming true.

It had just been her and her mom since as long as E.B. could remember. The adults would do their own thing, but if nothing else hopefully they could come over and be friends. Spending all her summer time with ancient deaf babysitters didn’t give E.B. many opportunities for social interaction.

She really liked Sam. And Guy, but Guy wasn’t the one threatening to get himself locked up. Plus he was terrible with kids.

Except that Sam was trying to ditch them, so maybe he really was just conning them like she thought at Snerz’s trophy wall. Maybe he didn’t like her.

E.B. sniffed sadly.

Sam, who had been happily sunk into a mushy state from the moment she tentatively leaned their shoulders together, came to attention. No child, especially E.B., would mournfully snuffle on his watch.

“Hey,” he said, “what’s going on up there? Are you a-salting my hat?”

E.B. sighed and pulled her knees up onto the bench, tucking in and resting her chin on them instead of Sam. “No.”

“Well why not?” he asked. “It can only improve the flavour.”

“Why won’t you stay?” she asked, cutting to the chase. Sam put his arm around her shoulders and she slumped down to lean her face on his arm.

“Kid, I can honestly say that no one’s ever asked me that before,” he said, dry and tough, like old jerky left out in the sun. “Actually, usually people are begging me to go at this point.”

“But family is the biggest adventure of all,” she sniffled.

Her warm little breaths ruffled his fur when she exhaled. His fingers tightened, drawing her closer. He rested his chin on her hair.

“Oh E.B.,” he said, “I meant it. Your family is the biggest adventure. But it’s your family. You, your mom, maybe Guy if he doesn’t screw it up again, your grandma I guess, unless she’s d- um. What I mean is, I’m not part of it. You’re one of my best friends, but I’ve done a lot of bad stuff. Stuff that wasn’t cool. So now I need to make amends. You helped me see that.” He was starting to tear up now too. He brought his other arm up to hug her for real. “We can be pen-pals.”

“I don’t want you to go to jail. I don’t want you to go at all!”

“I don’t want to go either, but it’s the right thing to do.“

“I don’t care. And anyway, you are family!”

“E.B.—“ Sam loosened his grip.

“You are! You are if you want to be, so just stay.”

“E.B., I…”

She looked up at him with huge liquid eyes.

“I love you,” he said. She smiled, until he continued: “I’ll visit when I’m out.”

Her eyebrows came down in a fierce frown, and she looked up over Sam’s shoulder and nodded decisively.

“Guy, contain!”

“Wh— Hey!” Sam cried, as he was snatched from the bench and firmly tucked under Guy’s arm like a sack of flour.

Michellee flanked, prepared to assist, but her damp eyes required attention. She pulled out two handkerchiefs, one for E.B. and one for herself.

“Wait, you… you conned me?” Sam asked.

“Dang skippy,” E.B. replied.

“I knew you wouldn’t try to escape if it would leave E.B. all alone,” Guy said.

“And I knew if I turned on the waterworks you’d be distracted enough,” E.B. continued.

“I did nothing, but I’ve always been a sympathetic cryer,” Michellee said. “Although I did pay for dinner. Nice work, hon.”

“Thanks,” E.B. and Guy chorused. Guy wished immediately for his hat and both hands to cover his burning face. Michellee was suddenly very absorbed in folding her handkerchief properly, but she had to lift a hand to cover her growing smile.

“Ah, young love,” Sam swooned, “privacy goes perfectly with sweet nothings. I’ll just be making my way…”

“Don’t even try it,” Guy snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re being weirder than normal which is saying something.”

“I think some sleep will do us all some good,” Michellee said, as E.B. yawned. “We can talk more in the morning. Are you two taking the Park-and-Ride?”

“Presumably. It’s late and I’m tired,” Guy said to Sam, “where are we staying?”

“Uhhh…” Sam hedged.

Guy closed his eyes. “We don’t have a place to stay, do we.”

“-uhhhhhhh-“ Sam continued, in the background.

Michellee laced her fingers together, tucked her hair more firmly beneath her hat to bolster herself, and offered, “It wouldn’t be the first time… If you have nowhere else to go, that is. Our room has two beds, we could share.”

“-uhhhhhhhh-”

E.B. gasped:

“Sleepover!”

[zarcake-writes]

Not Alone Together

Hello! So, I mentioned before (I think) that this fic is gonna be a slow burn and it will be long. I’m not sure how long though. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It’s short and features a familiar face.

Warnings: end game spoilers, mentions the beginning of the epilogue

For the past eight years, Arthur’s endured being a werewolf. Every month when the moon is at its fullest for those three days, he shifts. For three nights he roams the wilds, hunting, fighting, and chasing anything, or anyone, he encounters.

The first times he changed Arthur would wake up surrounded by animals he’s killed. There were only a few times that Arthur woke up near a dead body. But he eventually gained some control over that monstrous side of himself. So now, the nights of the full moon are usually boring. But he’s spent those night in his cabin or roaming his territory. This month, however, was difficult.

For this month, he wasn’t home. He didn’t have his comforting cabin or his safe territory. It left him feeling stressed. He didn’t go near Strawberry. There were too many people in that town and around that area. Instead, he went further north, up to Barrow Lagoon. While part of him loved the snow and the enjoyed fighting that bear, another part of him ached.

The ache wasn’t physical, it’s emotional. Both parts of him, the wolf and man, missed the woman he’s grown so used to seeing. He spent most of those nights not only howling for her but fighting himself. The wolf wanted to go to her. The wolf wanted to run across the mountains and stay near her, but Arthur knew that isn’t possible. So, the ache in his heart only grew, and every morning he woke alone and just a little sadder.

There wasn’t just one thing Arthur missed about her. He missed everything about her. Her gorgeous smile and the way she looked after working in her garden all day. He missed her laugh and the freckles that dotted her cheeks. He missed eating dinner with her and sharing whiskey. He missed her smell and the way it felt when she would touch his shoulders and arms.

It was during the day when his body was resting from the night before, Arthur would imagine she was next to him in his bed. Sometimes he imagined holding her against his chest. He imagined smelling her and touching her, feeling her warm body against his. Other times, he imagined being in her arms. Just imagining feeling her fingers run down his arm and over his skin gave him the chills.

On the fourth day, Arthur woke and knew the wolf was content. His body ached and the world felt fuzzy. The burning pain along his chest reminded him of the bear he fought. He spent most of that day resting in bed and sleeping. The only strenuous thing he could do was change the bandages on his chest. He ate all the canned food he packed, along with all those hard candies his neighbor bought for him.

The fifth day, Arthur woke up feeling better. While his body still ached, the wounds on his chest were healed. As he packed up to head home, Arthur realized he had no supplies for the trip home. He had no food for himself, and nothing for his horse.

“Ah, shit. Guess we’ll be going to Strawberry after all girl,” he told his horse. The mare responded with a huff.

The last time Arthur was in Strawberry was almost a decade ago. The town itself has barely changed. There were a few new houses, but everything else was the same. Same friendly people, same muddy roads, and still no saloon. He could even swear that the town’s mayor was the same man.  

Arthur bought the supplies he needed for the road, along with a little surprise for his neighbor and Berry. He shared a few friendly words with the general store owner, who didn’t seem to remember Arthur. Not that he cared, it was better if no one ever remembered him. As he was leaving the small store, he bumped into someone who smelled of hay and farm animals, probably a farm hand from one of the nearby ranches.

“Oh, excuse me,” Arthur said. He didn’t look at the stranger, too busy putting his supplies in his satchel.

“Oh, sorr- Arthur?”

Arthur froze. He didn’t need to sniff the air to know who spoke his name. He could pick that voice out anywhere. After all, it belonged to someone he still considers his brother. Arthur took a deep breath before he greets the man.

“John.” Arthur turns and gives his old friend a familiar smile. John’s beard is long enough that is covers the scars on his face, his hair is shorter than Arthur remembers. “It’s good to see you’re alive.”

“I… I thought you died.” John’s voice cracks, his eyes never leave Arthur’s face.

Arthur lets out a heavy breath. “I almost did.”

John steps forward and wraps his arms around Arthur. He’s breathing hard and his fingers dig into the back of Arthur’s shirt. Arthur says nothing, he only hugs John, not caring that strangers are starring or that John is getting the front of his shirt wet.

The last time Arthur held a crying John was when he was fifteen. Arthur couldn’t remember why, but John ran away from camp and Arthur was sent after him. Arthur found John on a cliff, tears in his eyes and a gun in his hand. The day ended with John crying against Arthur, and Arthur holding him.

John pulls away suddenly and gives Arthur an angry look. “You bastard, why didn’t you tell me you were alive!”

Arthur grabs John and pulls him down the side of the General Store. John pulls away from Arthur’s grip and continues to glare at Arthur.

“You… you were proclaimed dead in the newspaper. Why didn’t you send me a letter?” John snapped.

“Because I was fucking hiding. If everyone thought I was dead, then I was gonna do everything to keep it that way.”

John takes a couple deep breathes. “Why didn’t you tell me though? We’re brothers.”

“Because I wanted you and your family to forget about me. To forget about the past and move on.”

John rubs his chin and nods his head. “How… how did you survive?”

The memories of that night haunt Arthur. He remembers the betrayal, sending John away, shooting the Pinkertons, and fighting with Micah. He shivers as he remembers the taste of blood in his mouth and the burning feeling of bullet wounds. The look of horror on Dutch’s face and the sound of him running down the mountain. Arthur’s remembers it all, but he can’t tell anyone what really happened that day.

Arthur sighs and leans his back against a wall. “I don’t know. I crawled down that mountain, and after that, I did my best to get lost. I mainly stayed up around Ambarino, traveled around a bit. Several years ago, I moved into a cabin in Ambarino, right next to O’Creaugh’s Run.”

John leans against the opposite wall and crosses his arms. “We’ve been moving around these last few years. Went to Canada for a while, but now we’re back down here. I’m working at Pronghorn Ranch as a farmhand, and Abigail is working at the doctor’s office here in town.”

Arthur laughs. “So, Abigail finally got you doing farm work? How’d that happen?”

“I was taking supplies to the ranch, and this neighboring ranch tried to steal the supplies. I only got involved because it was my wagon and horse hey stole. The ranch owner let us stay after that. They’re just happy to have someone around who can fight and shoot a gun correctly.”

“I remember when you couldn’t herd sheep, but look at you now, working at a ranch. Bet Abigail’s happy.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Both men fall silent for a moment. Arthur is fiddling with his belt buckle, trying to think of something to say. Should he say anything? John is looking down at the floor.

“How’s Jack?” Arthur asked.

“Good. Loves to read. He’ll occasionally help out around the ranch. Don’t think he likes me very much. Kid isn’t anything like me.”

“Good. I remember how you were when you were younger.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You like ranch work?”

John lets out a dry laugh. “No. I do all this work and I have nothing to show for it.”

“That’s cause its honest work, John.”

John scoffs and shakes his head. “Yeah, honest work. Look, I got to head back to the ranch.”

“Alright.”

John pushes himself off the wall and starts to walk away, but he stops and turns back to Arthur. “I’m glad you’re alive Arthur. You should come by in a few weeks, I know Abigail and Jack will be happy to see you.”

“I’m glad you and your family are doing fine as well, John. I’ll write to you when I get home and we can schedule something.”

“Alright. I’m going by Jim Milton around here. Abigail goes by Agatha, and Jack goes by Lancelot.”

“Milton? Really?”

“Shut up. I’ve never been good at coming up with names.”

“I know, I remember what you named your horses.”

John and Arthur share a small laugh. They hug, then part ways. Arthur climbs onto his horse and glances back. John is standing outside the General store. He waves farewell, then turn and enters the building.

Arthur sets off for home, an odd feeling in his chest. He never thought he would see John again. He never sought him or any of the other old gang members out because… well, Arthur didn’t see himself as being worthy of seeing them again. He still feels guilty for what happened all those years ago. And in his mind, he imagined they wouldn’t want to see him.

But John, despite his anger, was happy to see Arthur. John even claimed that Abigail and Jack would be happy to see him. But should Arthur meet them? What if he brings a whole mess of trouble for them? What if he can’t control himself and the man he used to be, comes back to the surface? John and his family don’t deserve that. But the thought that troubles Arthur the most is, what if something happens and the wolf inside Arthur comes out.

It's with a heavy heart Arthur wonders if it’s worth seeking out the comfort of old friends. Should he even seek out any sort of comfort in his life? Should he continue trying to form some sort of relationship with his neighbor? All the horrible things he’s done in the past and all the pain he’s caused Arthur knows he doesn’t deserve anything good. He was a monster of a man in the past, and he’s a true monster now, and monsters don’t deserve happy endings.  

[azaisya]

spoilers for ep77 clash at daxio!! [ao3]

When Xanthas smiled, it was a nervous, slippery sort of thing. It was the sort of smile that a man with poor hygiene had, Allura thought idly.

At her side, Kima asked, “How did you even get out of Emon?”

Xanthas tried not to look down his nose at her. He didn’t try very hard. “All due respect, Lady Kima, but I am a very accomplished wizard.”

Allura kept her polite diplomat’s smile on her lips, but Kima didn’t bother. With a loud snort, she said, “Right.”

Xanthas’ face turned an interesting shade of red, and he spluttered, “I bring very valuable information—”

“Which we are happy to receive,” Allura cut in, voice soap-smooth and politician-polite, “Kima, would you mind summoning the General—”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary.” Xanthas straightened his robes, expression mulish. “I’d like to talk to you privately, Arcanist, if you don’t mind.” There was a hint of something in his voice: a hardness, a bit of spite, a dare.

Kima bristled. “That’s stupid. This is a war. You are among allies.”

“With all due respect,” Xanthas declared, somehow managing to look even further down his nose at her, “I don’t know you and I don’t trust you.”

Kima opened her mouth, but Allura put a hand on her shoulder to silence her. Kima’s head snapped around, eyes furious, but Allura didn’t relent.

Her grip tightened—not that it mattered, considering that Kima's pauldrons were solid metal and enchanted besides—and simply looked at her. Kima deflated under her gaze, her frustration—pent-up from waiting for an imminent fight—leaking from her frame. With a groan, Kima turned back to Xanthas. "Fine. But we need her, so don't take too long."

Xanthas smiled, all slippery charm and oily grace. "Of course, Lady Kima."

Kima's nose wrinkled at his snide tone. As they started to walk away, she reached out and caught Allura's hand. Eyes narrowed, expression dark, she said, "Come find me after."

Allura squeezed her hand. "I will." With her eyes, she tried to say, I'll be fine. He's an ally. Don't worry.

She wasn't sure if it worked.

Allura led Xanthas through the fort. Should any look, she was as poised as ever: chin high, robes clean, hair braided—but her anxiety was mounting. As soon Xanthas shut the door to one of Elle's meeting rooms behind him, she asked, "What is the situation in Emon? How does the city fare?"

Xanthas stood in front of the door, eyes slipping around the empty room. "It fares poorly."

"Well, yes." Allura leaned her staff against the desk and pulled open some drawers, searching for paper and something to write notes with. "But what of t;he Council? Is Asum alive, still?" If they could find somebody to confirm Raishan's story. . . .

"Yes, they're all alive. Arcanist," Xanthas said abruptly, "What of this place? What is the plan here?"

Allura slowly looked up from the desk. "Fort Daxio? We intend to. . . ." She trailed off, eyes straying to the wand at Xanthas' side. It was a plain enough thing, just wood with a slight swirl at one end, but something about it made her skin tingle. She'd never seen him with it before, but that along wasn't cause for alarm. Perhaps it was something about his tone, or something about the way Kima had looked at him, but whatever it was stopped her before she shared Vox Machina's plan. Slowly, warily, she asked, "Could you tell me again how you escaped Thordak's sight?"

Xanthas's lips turned down into a scowl. "I worked at the Lyceum. I have my ways."

Allura stood up. "I see." She had never spent much time with Xanthas, but he had never struck her as the sort of man brave enough to run from an ancient red dragon. "And you came here?"

Something flashed behind his eyes. "It is where the majority of Emon's military is located. Surely, should you have been in a similar situation—"

"I would not have come here first," Allura interrupted, ice trickling down her spine. "And you most certainly would not have."

He backed away, towards the door, and drew the strange wand. Allura's heartbeat spiked, and she lunged for her staff. Her fingers barely touched the familiar wood before a blast of cold hit her side. The force of the spell wasn't enough to stagger her, but the coldness seeped into her bones, tiny fingers of ice pressing into her muscles.

Allura's fingers closed around her staff, bringing it up instinctually, but her mind—

Her mind was blank. The last of her thoughts slipped away as she scrambled after them, her spells vanishing into tangled strings of arcane symbols in her mind, and she couldn't think.

There was nothing but her, her voice trapped in her head, and the room around her seemed to shrink, walls growing dark and loathsome, and the elf just stood in front of her and stared and, suddenly, he was further away— no, she was further away, her back against the wall—stone digging into her shoulder blades, shoulder blades digging into the stone—and her breath was loud and rapid in her ears and her eyes burned and oh, gods, who was this elf and why did he stare so and why did his eyes burn and why, why, why, her hands shook and the light was too bright and she didn't know, she couldn't think, she—

She was gone.

Kima waited approximately ten minutes, pacing back and forth in the courtyard and watching the soldiers mill around the fort. It made her feel like a child, but she didn't like having Allie outside of her immediate line of sight. Whitestone, at least, had been relatively safe and Allura had been too busy exhausting herself over the barrier to get into any real trouble. And before that, during the years—fucking years—that Kima had spent in Westruun and Allura in Emon, she didn't have to worry because Allie had been in Emon.

That had been almost as safe as it got, until—

Well.

Kima stopped pacing, frustrated. She was being ridiculous, but she'd never done well with waiting and she'd never liked Xanthas and Fort Daxio was hardly as safe as Whitestone had been.

She was just about to give up and go looking for them when a shout came up from the outer wall. Horns—Daxio’s horns—sounded, deep and booming. Immediately, the soldiers around her began running for weapons or battle stations, voices rising to a tumultuous cacophony.

Kima snatched the arm of one of the soldiers running past. “We’re under attack?” He nodded, eyes wide, and she ordered, “Run down and alert General Elle and Allura."

She grabbed the hilt of the Holy Avenger and raced towards the nearest access to the wall. A steady thrum of power emanated from her holy symbol, the familiar chill of Bahamut's power spreading towards the hand that clutched her sword.

She'd nearly gotten to the top when she heard a voice shout, "Lady Kima!"

Kima whirled around, almost tripping two soldiers, and peered down the stairs. "What?"

A soldier—not the one she'd sent—sprinted up the stairs towards her, face red and chest heaving. "Lady Kima!" He stopped several steps below her and doubled over, panting. "It's Lady Allura—"

Ice filled Kima's veins, and her eyes flashed silver as alarm sent her heart thundering. Oh, Bahamut, please not Allie. Not her. "What happened?"

He just shook his head, eyes huge. "You should come." He turned and went running back down the stairs, towards the heart of the fort.

Kima didn't even hesitate before running after him.

Even though they were running against the flow of traffic, the soldiers running for the wall gave her a wide berth, cowed by the murder in her eyes and the holy light that shimmered over her skin in a brilliant promise of violence.

"She's here," the soldier babbled as they turned a corner towards one of the many meeting rooms in the fort, "We don't know what happened, and we can't find Xanthas anywhere." He pointed to an open doorway and the trio of soldiers clustered around it. "In there."

"Right." Kima hesitated just a moment before shoving past the guards. "Allie, wh—" The words died in her throat.

Lying curled up on the ground, knees drawn to her chest and arms clamped over her head, Allura trembled. Her shoulders shook violently with silent sobs, eyes screwed tightly shut and body angled away from the door. A fourth soldier knelt by her, his helmet tucked under his arm and one hand extended.

Gently, as if speaking to a dog caught in a trap or a horse by a storm, he asked, "Arcanist Vysoren? Can you hear me?"

Allura flinched violently away from him, curling tighter into herself, and sobbed.

Kima's blood froze. Quietly, voice heavy with command and fury, she said, "Everybody leave."

The soldier by Allura looked over his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

Kima just stared at him. She knew Allura, knew her like she knew nobody else in this world. Despite the fifteen years that stretched between them like a chasm, despite all their arguments and their mistakes, she'd seen Allura at her best and her worst. She'd seen her after four weeks of trekking through a murky swamp without a bath. She'd seen her after a dragon had scorched her to death. She'd seen her wild with panic and half lost in memories after a night terror.

But she'd never seen Allura like this.

Even when in the darkest depths of her fear, there was always a spark to her eyes. A hint of the magic that swelled beneath her skin, of the sharp mind that could harness it, of the terrible power she hid behind sweet smiles and delicate braids.

But now there was nothing.

"Everybody leave."

Hastily, wordlessly, the soldiers filed out of the room.

Slowly, hesitantly, Kima stepped in. The light faded from her skin and constricted into a cool knot in her chest, pulsing against her holy symbol. "Allie?" she called, voice soft.

Allura uncurled slightly, her arm shifting so that one blue eye could peer out. It flashed wildly back and forth, flicking rapidly around the empty room before settling on Kima.

"Allie," Kima whispered, her heart breaking at the emptiness in that familiar blue gaze, "Can't you hear me?"

All of Allura's breath escaped her in a gasp, and suddenly she was on her feet, a flash of blue robes and pale hair hurtling across the room. She hit Kima with a crash, nearly bowling her over, and Kima instinctively brought her arms around Allura's waist, holding her tightly. Allura was lighter than she remembered, thin from exhaustion and stress, and her narrow frame trembled with sobs.

"Allie," Kima began, bewildered, "Allie, please." Allura buried her face into the crook of Kima's neck and shook. "What happened?" She looked over Allura's shoulder, searching the room. A couple of the desk's drawers were pulled out, but she couldn't tell if anything was missing. Allura's staff laid on the floor, half knocked under the desk, but it lacked the familiar glow of a recently cast spell.

She tried to pull away, but Allura's arms were locked around her neck and she couldn't move.

"Allie, what happened?"

Meaningless sounds escaped Allura's mouth, and she moaned and shook her head.

Kima closed her eyes, fighting back the panic that beat at her heart. Allura just made more senseless sounds, her fingers flickering over Kima's back, and Kima gritted her teeth. "Allie, I don't— Are you hurt?" Her arms tightened around Allura, her eyes roving around the room again. "I don't know," she hissed, frustration and terror racing in equal parts through her mind when Allura still didn't answer, "I don't know how to help."

A loud boom shook Daxio's walls, and Allura let out a tiny shriek, shoving herself away from Kima and pressing her back to the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her abdomen.

Kima took one look at her tear-streaked face and felt rage coil in her gut. "It was him, wasn't it?" she demanded, "I knew it. I knew that slimy bastard Xanthas—"

Allura sobbed, and Kima grit her teeth.

"I'm going to get him," she snarled, energy thrumming through her words, "and I will tear his heart from his body, Bahamut be my witness."

She stepped forwards, holding her hands out, and Allura eagerly grabbed them and pulled Kima closer.

Her hands shook.

"I don't know what this is," Kima said helplessly, "I'm sorry, I don't— I'm so sorry, Allie." She had nothing, no power to banish whatever had stolen Allura from her. She could feel her own frustration prickling at the corners of her eyes and bit her lip to fight her own sobs. "I'm sorry." She sent a pulse of holy power into Allura's frame, seeking to heal whatever she could.

Allura just flinched away from the light, and Kima's heart broke a little more. Another boom rent the air, and a tiny wail escaped Allura's lips.

Fury and helplessness swirled in Kima's chest, and she squeezed Allura's hands. "Can't you tell me what to do?" she whispered, even knowing it was useless.

Allura just stared at her, blue eyes huge and vacant.

Screams and the sounds of metal against metal, though distant, reached Kima's ears. She turned towards the window, ignoring the sick feeling growing in her gut. Beyond the wall, wyverns circled in the sky. Arrows flew thick through the air, and the soldiers of Daxio fled through the gates.

Through a gap in the wall, towards the top, Kima saw a glimpse of familiar green robes.

Her breath froze. Xanthas.

Kima didn't know much about arcane magic or ending curses, but she did know one thing. Killing the caster was one of the best ways to end a spell.

Allura whimpered, and Kima's eyes snapped back to her. She was still pressed to the wall, as if that might protect her, and her eyes locked onto Kima's with all the desperation of one drowning.

"I'm sorry," Kima whispered, helpless and hating her helplessness, "I need to go." She tried to pull her hands free, but Allura clung to her. "Allie—"

Allura shook her head violently, braids whipping back and forth, and Kima closed her eyes against the tears that traced down her cheeks.

When she opened them again, her mind was set. Voice still gentle, she said, "Allie, I need to go. I'm going to kill the fucker that did this to you, and then I'm going to bring you his head." She pulled her hands free and stepped towards the door. "Stay here. Stay safe." Another step. "I'm sorry." Another. "I love you."

Without another word, she whirled about and sprinted towards Xanthas, the vision of Allura's terror-wracked face burned into her mind.

(After that, nothing else mattered except that Xanthas was dead and Pike could help Allura and Allura was fine, she was fine, she was fine)

Afterwards, Allura couldn't keep her hands from shaking. She wandered around the fort, helping where she could. She cleaned wounds and collected the dead. She did what she could to protect Fort Daxio and what soldiers remained.

(Every once in a while, she would automatically reach for a spell, Mending or Prestidigitation or Telekinesis, only to stop as if stung, remembering the way she'd called for her magic and the way it'd fled like droplets of water spilling away from her hands, and then she'd have to take a deep breath and steady herself against a wall as a familiar panic threatened to overwhelm her)

The entire time, Kima trailed after her like a silent shadow. By the time the night had faded into early morning, Allura looked over her shoulder and said softly, “You can go get cleaned up if you want.”

Kima shot her a look so full of hurt that Allura put down what was in her hands—she was too tired to care what she was doing anymore—and stopped moving.

“Only if you want,” she murmured, although even to her it sounded weak.

Kima’s expression shifted into outrage. “If I w— Allie!”

Allura blinked at her. “Kima?”

Kima stomped forwards, hands balling into fists. “You’re so dumb, Allura.”

Allura just stared. Kima hadn’t called her Allura in years, not since their terrible parting after Thordak’s initial sealing in the Plane of Fire. “What?” she asked, trying—and failing—to keep a plaintive note from her voice. She’d been awake for so long now that her mind was starting to fray at the edges, and she certainly wasn't collected enough to even begin trying to decipher the complicated emotions in Kima's face.

Kima snapped, "I thought I lost you. I'm not letting you out my sight again."

Something deep within Allura's heart broke, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I hadn't realized—" She stopped, painfully aware that she hadn't realized because she hadn't been thinking at all.

She hadn't wanted to think about anything, much less the helplessness and fear she'd felt under the feeblemind spell, and so she'd drowned herself in work.

Classic Allura, she thought bitterly, feeling the familiar bite of guilt in her heart.

Perhaps Kima saw that, for the anger faded from her face, replaced with a bone-deep weariness that Allura felt in her own frame. "Come on," Kima said, "Let's go get cleaned up and sleep."

Allura wavered, desperately wanting to keep moving and desperately afraid of the sort of thoughts nighttime drew from her.

Kima stepped forwards, mouth set in a grim line. "It's okay, Allie." She shifted, bringing her hand forwards. "You don't need to be strong all the time."

Allura instinctively reached out to grasp her hand with both of hers, squeezing tightly and grounding herself in the familiar warmth. "Okay," she whispered, voice trembling, "Let's go."

Kima's lips twisted into a small smile. "Yeah, let's go." As they walked together through the fort, stepping carefully to avoid rubble and what few bodies hadn't been collected yet. Kima's eyes drifted to the bodies, and Allura could hear her praying under her breath. That, too, was familiar, the chant of words both Draconic and Common almost as comforting as the memory of Allura's mother singing lullabies as the sun fell.

She almost didn't notice as Kima led her into their bedroom, fumbling one-handed at the lock, until Kima pulled her hand free so that she could light the sconces.

"Do you want me to call for a bath?" Kima called, even as she began stripping her armor from her frame. When Allura didn't reply, she stopped. "Allie?"

Allura's fingers flew upwards until they pressed white-fleshed against her lips, trapping her breath as it beat butterfly-rapid against her lungs.

"Allie?"

Her heartbeat pressed to her lips, pattering thumpthumpthump through her veins, and the room blurred around her as the flame Kima lit vanished against the shadows that crept, ice-cold, dark-cold, death-cold, past her skin and sank its fingers into her flesh. She could feel a pressure in her chest, a hand that grasped her heart and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and her magic—her magic—was gone, slipping away from her and spilling, spilling, spilling—

"Allie." Two hands—small but warm and oh so familiar—grasped her hands and pulled forwards. Allura was speaking, although she was only half-aware of it, words spilling white and rapid from her lips even as they swelled around her throat and choked the air from her lungs.

Light—pale silver, the light of stars and of platinum and of Kima, of Kima, of Kima—bloomed around Allura's vision, slipping over her hands and up her arms and cradling her in its embrace.

The tightness in Allura's chest shattered, and she sucked in a gulp of air.

"Allie," Kima was whispering, grey eyes wide but expression burning, "Can you hear me?"

Distantly, Allura realized she was on her knees. She simply had to look forwards to meet Kima's burning eyes.

"Allie," Kima repeated, her fingers tightening around Allura's hands.

Allura nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered, breathless and horrified all at once. "I didn't mean to—"

"Shhh." Kima's thumbs rubbed circles over Allura's knuckles, her pale grey eyes bright with worry and sorrow and guilt.

"I'm sorry," Allura repeated, "I'm sorry." Her breath stuttered in her chest, and she pulled her hands free to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Kima shook her head, hands clenching in her lap. "Don't say that, Allie."

Even through her tears, Allura couldn't help laughing softly. Even when they'd been young and foolish, she'd always been apologizing—for nothing, for everything.

Kima had never had any patience for her self-deprecation or her guilt.

"Sorry," she said, again, just on instinct.

Kima's body tilted forwards and then back. "Can I—?"

"Yes," Allura said, emphatically, and Kima immediately threw her arms around Allura's shoulders and held tightly.

"You're okay," Kima whispered, "I promise."

And, just like that, Allura's breath caught in her throat. "Promise?" she repeated, breathless and vulnerable and longing.

Kima pulled away just far enough to meet her eyes. Their noses nearly touched, and Allura felt herself wavering as Kima's warmth and the exhaustion of the day pulled her towards sleep. "I promise."

"Oh." Something warm blossomed in her chest, a tiny seed of hope planted so many years ago. Promise, said Kima, with that tiny, confident tilt to her lips. A promise from Kima was never a light thing; it was writ in stone, in the shadow of the Platinum Dragon himself. "Alright," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Ever so gently, Kima pressed a soft kiss to Allura's lips. "Want me to draw up a bath?"

Allura laid her head on Kima's shoulder and shook her head. A bath sounded like too much work right now, and she wasn't sure if she could stay standing for much longer. She was just so tired. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a full night's rest.

"Alright then." Kima hugged her again, tightly. "Let me finish doffing my armor."

Allura let her pull away and just sat watching while Kima unbuckled her greaves and pulled off her boots. She knew this dance, knew this routine. She knew how Kima liked to untie her braces, how she took off her gauntlets first, how she grumbled over the new dents and scratches. Something in Allura's heart felt very small and bruised. She loved Kima. That wasn’t an easy thing, not when Kima was so adamant in throwing herself at large things with teeth and claws.

Kima was going to go fight Thordak, and there was nothing Allura could do.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Allura asked, so quietly that she wasn’t sure Kima heard.

(She hadn’t been able to protect Ghenn, either, when Thordak snapped their head from their body with a single bite. Or Dohla, roasted alive as she drew Thordak’s attention from the binding ritual. Or Sirus, brutally snatched from the air and swallowed whole)

(She’d nearly broken the ritual, then, and ran for Kima, a tiny spot of silver hacking away at Thordak’s feet)

(Nearly ruined everything because she was so afraid and so desperate and so

Helpless.

She was never in the right place never knew the right things never had enough power never strong enough never smart enough never enough never enough never enough)

A hand touched her cheek, snapping her out of her spiral. Eyes wide, she found Kima staring down at her.

Kima’s expression was so very gentle.

“Come on, Allie. Let’s get you to bed.” She began unlacing Allura’s dress, practiced fingers darting over the delicate ties and buttons with ease.

Allura caught her hands. “Wait.”

Kima immediately froze. “Wait?”

“I should’ve stopped him.”

Kima’s jaw hardened. “You had no way of knowing. None of us even suspected—”

“You did.” Allura shuddered. “You know something was off, but I just thought it was nerves. I should’ve known. I should’ve—”

“None of this,” Kima interrupted, expression fierce, “is your fault. Do you hear me, Allie?”

Allura just looked away.

Kima grabbed her shoulders. “None of this is your fault.”

Allura wrapped her shaking hands around her abdomen, feeling sick. She was never perceptive enough, never quick enough, never smart enough—

“Allie—”

“I must’ve missed something,” she babbled, “It was just so much, and I’d never written an arcane ritual that complicated before, and I messed up the casting, and I wasn’t even in Emon when he came back. I could’ve done something, I should’ve—”

“No. Absolutely not.” Kima’s fingers tightened around Allura’s shoulders. “We were kids, Allie. We did everything we could—”

“But I—”

“No. Nothing. You did everything you could.”

“He escaped—”

“I don’t care! You put so much magic into that spell you fucking died. You gave everything you have to this realm.” Kima drew her arms away, hands clenching into fists. "You still give everything."

Allura bit back the bitterness that rose in her throat. “It’s never enough.”

Kima shook her head. “Bahamut, you’re so— look at Whitestone! Your magic is stretched over that entire city.”

“Gilmore—”

“—is amazing and talented and we all love him, but that would not have happened without you. You’re literally the most trusted source of arcane knowledge in the continent. The Arcana Pansophical sought you out when you were twenty years old. You always do what’s best for the realm, even though most people don’t know half of the shit you pull.” Kima gestured loosely at the rest of the fort. “Xanthas—may his soul rot for eternity—singled you out because you’re the single most powerful person in this entire fucking fort. You’ve always been enough.”

Allura only stared, stunned into silence.

Kima took a deep breath. “You did everything you could to lock Thordak away forever and you did really fucking good. You won the realm fifteen years of peace. Nothing we did—nothing you did, nothing Ghenn or Dohla or Drake or Sirus did—was in vain."  Kima laughed, shakily, and Allura realized that she was crying. "Gods, Allie. You're the smartest, most powerful person I know."

Allura squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a low, shuddering breath. "Oh."

"I know you don't believe me," Kima said, quietly, "But I want you to know that it's true. I just— I want you to know that you're incredible."

Kima's familiar warmth drew away, but Allura chased her with her lips, stealing one last kiss even as she reached deep into her core to find her magic—present and powerful, simmering just beneath her consciousness despite Xanthas' spell. She nearly laughed at the ease of it, at the way it leapt to the forefront of her mind and the tips of her fingers with all the enthusiasm of lightning chasing the storm. With a twist of her fingers, she drew threads of power over both herself and Kima, power running like so many beads of static over their skin. Sweat and dried blood and dirt evaporated into the air, burning away at the merest touch of Allura's magic.

When she pulled away, she was breathless.

Kima laughed, a note of relief in her voice. "You're amazing, Allie."

Allura smiled.

Kima tilted her head, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair behind Allura's left ear. "Are you okay?"

Allura leaned into her touch, eyes slipping shut again. She could feel her magic, now, thrumming just beneath her skin, and she was nearly giddy with relief. "I'm better."

"Good." Kima wiped her eyes and got to her feet. "Let's go to bed, Allie."

By the time Allura finished changing into her night dress, Kima was sitting on the bed. Allura fell into her arms, and Kima pressed a kiss to her brow and held her tightly.

"Night, Allie."

"Good night, Kima." Allura squeezed one of her hands. "I love you."

Kima's arms tightened around her. "I love you too."

[nikokova]

Changes: Chapter 3

Hi guys, it’s me. The anxious writer. So, as this security guard at my school keeps yelling, I’ve only got 15 days left before finals. So I might not update on the schedule that I want, though I will try!

Feel free to send me an ask about the story. I'll try to answer as long as it doesnt give away any spoilers!

Prologue Previous

Summary: Logan Summers: One friend, a 4.0, and a huge secret. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Virgil Mathews: barely surviving high school, let alone possibly being moved away from his one and only friend just so he gets to experience what its like to “Have a family”. Patton Pennington: can’t remember having a friend in real life, hopes that his parents taking in a foster kid can change things for him. Roman Royal: Arguably the most popular boy in school, but when he hears that the high schools are merging next year, will he be able to mend his checkered past?

Pairings: Slow-burn Analogical and Royality

Warnings: Foster system, food/drink, anxiety/nervousness, some self-deprecation, puns, injury, mentions of getting beat up, bad writing skills. Let me know if I missed any!

Word count: 2087

Tag list: @zaisling @heir-of-the-founders @rainbow-sides @3-14l59265358979323846 @spazzz32 @sanderstalker @confinesofpersonalknowledge @black-out-wonder @phlying-squirrel @scorching-scotch @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @theotherella @toujours-fidele @hamster-corn @misslilidelaney @alkimara @ccecode @nienna14 @sylveon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @smileydog101 @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @an-anxious-acquaintance Just ask if you want to be added!

***

To say that Patton felt excited was probably an understatement. He didn’t know a word for how he was feeling. Some sort of mix of happiness and nervousness that bubbled in his stomach making him simultaneously thrilled and nauseous. It was only a week since school had ended, but he had felt really lonely. At least at school, he was surrounded by other people, even if they didn’t care to notice he existed. At home, it was just him and his online friends. Who each had a life and their own in real life friends. He craved friends more than he would even admit to himself. When he imagined going out for ice cream, movies, staying up late at sleepovers. He felt selfish. It wasn't other people's fault that he felt the way he did, or their job to make him feel better.

He sat up and looked around in an attempt to change the subject of his own conversation. His eyes scanned the walls that had been yellow since he was a baby, some spots still had crayon and finger paint that his mom refused to wash off because of “memories”. He had never really thought of wiping them off the wall, especially because it made his mom happy when he asked if she knew the story behind a certain scribble. Usually, she did, sometimes she would make something up to make him laugh.

The other things he had on his walls since childhood was a collection of pun posters. The biggest was taped above his dresser, it had two bananas drawn on it with the quote, “Why did the banana go to the doctor? He wasn’t peeling well.” Seeing the posters always made him laugh, or at least smile on a rough day. His personal favorite was the rainbow deer, bubble letters spelling out “Oh deer! I’m queer!”

His room was one of the only to not be completely reorganized in the past week. HIs parents had wanted the house to be presentable when the boy arrived. Not that it wasn’t already pretty clean, but his parents worried. Part of Patton was glad that his room had been left untouched, another part wondered if a change of scenery would improve his state of mind. He had read somewhere that being exposed to yellow for a long time made people depressed. Or was it blue? Either way, maybe a different color would make him happy? No, that was silly.

His eyes moved to the corner where a mirror stood out like a prep in Hot Topic, being one of the only things not covered in childhood stickers. In it, he could see his brown eyes contrasting with the bright white of his skin. He had tried to tan before, it resulted in a painful sunburn that returned to its natural color in two weeks. What bothered him though, was that he had no freckles. Almost every redhead he knew had freckled, but him. Patton loved adored freckles. He developed a crush on almost all of his male classmates who had them at one point or another.

“Patton!” His mom's voice snapped him from his thoughts,

“Yeah?” He hopped off of his bed and took a deep breath, plastering a smile on his face.

“Can you do me a favor?” She asked, her voice seeming louder as Patton opened his door.

“What do you want me to do?” He questioned, walking down the hall and looking through all of the open doors. He stopped in the guest, well his new brother's room, where his mom was wrapping the vacuum cord. She looked up at him and smiled,

“Do you think you can wipe down the window for me?” The window looked spotless. “I need to vacuum the living room.” for the fourth time this week. But Patton could see the stress and worry behind her smile. He widened his own smile and slowly took the vacuum from his mom.

“Why don’t you go grab some lemonade from the fridge? He might be thirsty when he gets here, and the living room is squeaky clean.” He reassured, her brown eyes softened and she gave him a small smile.

“Alright, I’m overworking myself, I get it.” She giggled and headed to the door, “You want any lemonade?”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Once his mom was gone he deposited the vacuum into the halls closet. He walked back into the room to look for the window cleaner, only to see a car parked in front of the house. He ran up to the window, placing his hands on the glass, before taking them off and scolding himself on the imprint it left. The driver's door opened and a tall woman climbed out. Her grey hair tied in a bun that matched her suit. Heart pounding, Patton raced out of the room and down the stairs. He could see the lady and his parents on the porch as he crossed the dining room.

“Virgil really doesn’t like being touched, especially right now. He got a little beat up this morning, he’s not violent of course. Just other kids usually get jealous when another gets adopted or moved to a home.” The voice seemed extremely cold for someone who works with kids. Patton chose to stand next to Ryan as they all listened to her.

“Is there anything we should do about it?” Ryan asked, running a hand over his black hair.

“Honestly, the best thing is to ignore it. He probably feels self-conscious about it.” The lady shifted, clearly uncomfortable with standing in the heels she had on.

“Where is he?” Patton looked around curiously.

“Oh, he’s in the car. Maybe you can show him around while I talk with your parents.” The lady suggested,

“Only if you’d be ok with that kiddo.” His dad added,

“Yeah, I’m ok with doing that!” Patton smiled,

“Great.” The lady responded monotone before turning on her heels and walking over to the car. She opened the back door, and it seemed like a couple words were exchanged before a tall boy dressed in all black stepped out of the car. He was quite a few inches taller than the lady, and it became obvious he was only a little taller than Patton, who was only around 5’8. He stayed on the stairs even as the lady came up to them on the porch. His hood was pulled over his head, hiding most of his face.

“Alright Virgil, this is Ryan,” Pa waved a hand, “Cathy, and Tom.” His mom and dad waved respectively.

“And I’m Patton!” The boys blue eyes looked him over in a way that made him nervous. He had blown it already, hadn't he? He moved to the door and held it open, “I’m gonna show you around while they talk.”

“O-oh, okay..” The deep voice stuttered, maybe Virgil was just as nervous as he was. The taller one walked around the group of adults before ducking through the door. Patton closed the door behind himself and noticed that Virgil only had one bag hanging off his shoulder.

“Is your other stuff in the car?” He asked, the taller one's eyes widened a little.

“No, this is all I’ve got,” Virgil muttered, almost too quiet for Patton to hear. It didn’t help that he had his hand in front of his mouth as he bit his thumb.

“Oh, well… This is the dining room. If you couldn't tell.” Patton attempted to lighten the mood. Virgil only nodded, eyes flying back and forth behind his dark bangs. Almost as if he were a scanner. So, Patton pointed to his left, towards the room with a large couch and medium-sized TV. “That's the living room, and the kitchen is up here next to the stairs. I’ll show you that and the bathroom first before we go upstairs, if that's ok with you kiddo- wait oops.” Patton's face grew warm. Did he really just say kiddo? Maybe he spends too much time with his dad. But now Virgil must think he’s so lame. I mean only old people use ‘kiddo’ anymore.

It was a light laugh that yanked him out of his thoughts. He looked over to see a smile on the boys split lip, and a laugh escaping from between. The laugh was bubbly and much lighter than Virgil's voice. It still held the same softness, however, and it made Patton smile despite his heart ramming into his chest.

“Sorry, my dad calls me that all the time. It just sort of, slipped out I guess.” Patton allowed himself to join in with his own laugh.

“It’s ok, I don't mind,” Virgil stated once he had managed to stop laughing, a small smile tugged his mouth to one side.

“So you, don’t mind me calling you that?” Patton repeated, trying to be sure.

“I mean I guess not, even though we’re like the same age aren’t we?” Virgil's brows furrowed,

“Well, I’m 16 as of January.” Patton shrugged, sure that the boy would be younger than him.

“I’m 16 too, as of last December.” Virgil moved the bag from one shoulder to the other, some part of him itching to move.

“Oh, so you're the oldest. Well, I guess I’ve always wanted to be a younger brother.” Patton muttered, walking towards the kitchen that was to the right of the stairway. Virgil slowly started to follow,

“Umm, if you could, not say it in public. I guess, then I’m ok with you calling me kiddo.” He mumbled causing a genuine smile spread across Patton's face.

“It’s a deal then,” he turned to glance at Virgil, “kiddo.”

>>>

“So your room is across from the bathroom, mines at the end of the hall, and my parent's room is next to the bathroom, across from the closet where our cleaning stuff is,” Patton explained as they walked up the stairs. He was extremely glad that the other teen seemed to be warming up to him quickly. Once they reached the top of the stairs he quickly struck a pose to present the room. Virgil rolled his eyes at this but walked into the room. It had light grey walls and a large window across from the door. Virgil set his bag on the bed and approached the window. Out of it, you could see the roof of the porch, his hands reached up and unlocked the window before pulling it open.

“What are you doing?” Patton asked, walking over to stand next to Virgil.

“Shh, listen.” So he did, and he could hear the adults talking.

“Is there any other things you think we should be aware of?” It was his Pa asking, he was always asking questions and trying to make sure everything was planned out fully.

“Well, usually every day after school Virgil would spend time at the library with this boy. We aren’t sure if they were dating or not, but the boy is the only person Virgil really ever hung out with. He seemed to be really anxious about moving away from the boy.” It was the lady's voice that said this. Was Virgil gay? Virgils face was as red as a tomato and he quickly moved to slam the window shut, barely giving Patton enough time to get himself back into the room.

“So are you really gay?” Patton asked, his stomach buzzed with excitement.

“So what if I am? It’s not like there's anything wrong with that.” Virgil hissed. Patton's waved his hand frantically, trying to figure out how to explain that he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

“Of course there's nothing wrong with it! I’m gay too, I was just excited. To have someone like me, for once…” He mumbled, his voice getting softer at the end. Virgil's defensive look melted and he frowned,

“I, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have lashed at you like that.” he apologized, Patton pulled on a wide smile.

“It's ok. I should've said it a different way.” Patton shook his head, “so, do you have a crush on that guy?”

“I-it’s none of your business,” Virgil whined,

“Awwww, what's he like?”

“I mean, I guess… Well, he’s short.” A smirk spread across Virgil's lips. “He’s also the smartest person you’ll ever meet. He always wears jeans and a polo with a tie, like a nerd. But its cute-” he cut himself off realizing what he was saying. Before he could spout out apologies Patton interrupted him.

“He sounds great! I can’t wait to meet him kiddo!”

***

Hey so, in case anyone is confused.

Tom= Pattons biological father

Cathy= Pattons biological mother

Ryan= Pattons Pa, aka his not biological dad

Virgil and Pat will be sort of the main focus for the next couple chapters since thats where most of the story is developing. Though there will be updates on the other two.

Next

[aoimikans]

Title: Progeny

Chapter 2 of 2: Departures

Summary: Every king wishes for an heir.

Links: [Ch 1] | Ao3 | FFnet

A/N: Contains manga spoilers. Anime-only fans may not understand some of the references.

Hisashi Midoriya smiled softly at the sleeping boy. Reaching down into the crib, he cradled his son's face in the palm of his hand and lightly twisted a lock of Izuku's curly hair.

Hisashi pulled a lock of his own hair down in front of his eyes and laughed as it bounced back above his forehead.

"You have my hair, huh?"

Izuku mumbled in his sleep, pressing his face into the warmth of Hisashi's hand.

Hisashi brushed his thumb over Izuku's cheek, and lifted his hand, pulling at the bottom of his lip in thought, "So much potential in such a tiny body. I wonder who you'll take after."

The door behind him slid open, and Hisashi turned, grinning bashfully, "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

Inko laughed and rubbed at the back of her head, "Thought I heard him crying, but I guess it was just a dream."

Hisashi's brow rose, "I finally got him to stop crying," he grinned and leaned against the crib, "Though I imagine he wore himself out first."

Inko chuckled and nodded, "Were you chatting with him?"

Hisashi hummed, "Something like that. Just wondering whose quirk he'll get."

"Well..." Inko's cheeks colored, and she mirrored his position, leaning against the doorframe, "He's just a baby, so it may take a while..."

Hisashi grinned and stepped closer, excitement fluttering in his chest despite his worries, "What do you think he'll get?"

"Hm..." Inko looked up into Hisashi's eyes with a wry grin, "A fire-breather would be a bit difficult."

"Ha-!" He flinched and slapped a hand over his mouth, glancing back at Izuku. Sidling up to Inko, he whispered, "And a baby who can pull any small object towards them wouldn't be?"

Intertwining their fingers, Hisashi pulled her close and grinned cheekily, "God forbid he's left alone in the kitchen! Imagine the mischief!"

Inko paled and jerked back, "Y-you don't think-! I didn't manifest mine until three, so there's time, but Hisashi oh dear what if he already has one!  I need to baby proof the kitchen! Nothing sharp… Goodness! Our picture frames! No glass. He wouldn't know better. Hisashi- Wait! What if he gets the hiccups and has your quirk! What should we-?

“Why are you laughing?” Inko huffed, cheeks reddening, “This is serious."

He couldn't help it. Laughter bubbled up from his lips, and he struggled to contain himself. He doubled over, laughing silently as tears pricked his eyes.

“Hisashi…”

He could hear the pout in her voice.

Gasping for breath, he looked up and grinned, “You’re cute.”

Inko spluttered and turned crimson, shying away from his gaze.

He chuckled, straightening up, and reached for her hand.

He felt something he hadn’t in a long time.

“Who knows? He may surprise us,” Hisashi said softly, pulling her closer and leaning down to kiss her brow, “He might not have either of ours…”

Hope bloomed hesitantly in his chest.

“Maybe something even better!”

“It’s best to give up on that.”

Izuku choked, sitting pale and rigid on the stool as his toy clattered to the floor.

Inko’s heart clenched, “No! There must be some mistake?”

Her arm reached out in an attempt to steady her son, “The other kindergartners have all started showing signs, but…”

Hisashi, where are you? Work can’t be more important...

Dr. Tsubasa hummed, “Pardon my asking, ma’am, but you’re fourth generation, yes? As far as quirks, I mean…”

Inko stiffened, glancing away, “Yes, of course… I can pull small objects towards me,” she said, demonstrating with Izuku’s fallen All Might figure, “And my husband can breathe fire.”

We both have quirks. She swallowed, looking to Izuku, who hadn’t moved an inch, So why...?

“By the age of four,” Dr. Tsubasa began, tapping the x-ray of Izuku’s foot, “A child should manifest either one of his parent’s quirks or a composite of the two. However, early quirk research discovered one important finding.”

Inko’s heart dropped.

Dr. Tsubasa continued, “It has to do with the presence or absence of the extra joint in the pinky toe. Know about this?”

She knew.

“Humans have no need for parts they don’t use, you see. And those without the joint represent the next stage of evolution.

Don’t say it.

“Izuku here has two joints,” Dr. Tsubasa leaned back in his chair, “It’s becoming quite rare nowadays, but…”

Please!

“He possesses no quirk at all.”

All for One slammed his fist into the wall.

Quirkless!

Tile and drywall cracked and fell with a clatter.

Blood dripped from his knuckles as his shoulders heaved, his vision painted red.  

Again…

He knew the chances. Failure after failure highlighted them clearly.

“It's simple genetics.” the Doctor stated.

I know…

He had watched - watched and waited as doubt prickled at the back of his mind. The child had shown no signs.

He’s still growing, a part of him had reasoned - hoped. Inheritance is tricky business.

He had stepped back, drowning himself in his work, distancing himself from the crippling disappointment of another failure. Inko could handle things alone for a while.

Out of sight out of mind as they say.

The Doctor snapped him from his thoughts, “Both you and the mother must have the recessive quirkless gene. In other words, a one in four chance of a quirkless child."

"With a 75% chance of a child with a quirk, yes I know!” He shot back, “This isn't my first time. That's exactly why this is so... Infuriating!"

He could laugh. This was not what he wanted.

“He’s not the first child I-” His lips twisted with rage, "All of them, Doctor. Quirkless."

A weight in his chest left him hollow.

I'm tired.

The Doctor regarded him quietly, careful with his next words, "... You could always give the child a quirk."

All for One grit his teeth, suppressing a shudder, "No."

No.

Past failures haunted him - quirks too volatile for the new bodies they inhabited.

Blank stares.

Lifeless.

Incapable of rational thought.

He rubbed the divot centered in his palm, unable to forget, unable to halt the memories of his greatest success...

Their eyes, sharp and hateful, swearing their life away in order to stop him. A power honed to defeat him.

To kill him.

He would not, could not risk another.

Especially with the child’s fixation on… All Might.

He straightened up, pulling at his sleeves despite the burning pain in his knuckles.

The damage was already done.

He couldn’t give the boy a quirk.

He didn't need a lifeless child and a distraught mother clinging to his side.

Too much attention. It couldn't be his.

I need something untraceable.

Abandoned...

A memory of a fluttering cape, dark hair, and a bright smile tugged at the back of his mind.

A quirk that took hold successfully...

A bloodied hand lying in a pool of gore.

A child with no connection to him.

“So nobody came to save you, huh, little one...?”

A flicker of satisfaction settled in his chest, and he pushed aside his worries, locking them away.

"I know that look of yours..." the Doctor hummed and canted his head to the side, "What are you planning this time?"

"Contact Kurogiri and pack your bags, Doctor," All for One turned his back to the man and stalked to his work station, "I've grown tired of playing house."

"Ah, your little investment. I do wonder how he's grown... But what of your current child?"

All for One regarded him with a blank stare, "Hisashi Midoriya never existed. I have no child."

"Right, right," the Doctor nodded, "I'll begin preparations. I have my own family to deal with."

All for One hummed noncommittally, and the Doctor departed with a harsh laugh.

Waiting two beats, he sighed and cradled his head in his hands, pressing at his eyes with a quiet groan.

He reached into his pocket.

A sudden promotion overseas.

Can't refuse.

You’ll be taken care of.

Ignoring the fourteen missed calls and voice messages, Hisashi Midoriya dialed home for the last time.

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Moffat Era Rewatch: The Day of the Doctor

On the last day of the Time War, before he made his greatest mistake, the man formally known as the Doctor is given a vision of his future...

Warning: Spoilers Sweetie 

Awww, the classic titles.

Coal Hill School before they ruined it by turning it into an academy. Fuck you, David Cameron and your Big Society, you fat pig fucker. 

“Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one. Marcus Aurelius.” Clara teaching her students about her pinups. Later she teaches them about Jane Austen. Clara just uses her job to bag about all the people she fancies, doesn’t she? 

Most epic TARDIS entrance made by someone not named River Song. 

There goes the Doctor breaking the fourth wall again.  

That book has a little TARDIS on it.

Clara Oswald, so amazing she is able to snap her singers while wearing leather gloves. 

Kate’s ringtone is the TARDIS noise.

Hello, Osgood. 

“Nice scarf.”

You’re terrible at having a job, Doctor. You show up out of the blue, do a few days work and the disappear without even handing in your notice. You only get hired because you never claim a salary. 

“No more.” 

“Time Lord art. Bigger on the inside.”

The Last Day of the Time War... 

The Time War is like the War of Wrath from The Silmarillion, it’s just too big and epic to ever depict on screen in a satisfying way. Which is why it is a good thing that this episode doesn’t show us the actual war. We just get a glimpse of its end, after all the big battles have been fought and lost, the Time Lords are on the their last legs, and Rassilon is hidden away like Hitler in his bunker, ranting and raving and blaming everyone else for his own inept leadership.  

“To hell with the High Council. Their plans have already failed.” So does this take place just after ‘The End of Time’ or at the same time? If it’s the latter that means the Tenth Doctor is simultaneously destroying/saving Gallifrey

“How do you use a weapon of ultimate mass destruction when it can stand in judgment on you?” 

The barn. We thought it was just some random location, but it turned out to be so much more. 

I love the War Doctor. So much so that I wish there had been more secret Doctors played by the type of big name actors you know the show could ever get full time.  

“It's nothing. It's just a wolf.” Welcome back, Billie Piper. 

I wasn’t that keen on Billie coming back because I’m not a fan of Rose, plus I was a little resentful that she was the only former companion being brought back. But I ended up really liking her in this episode, probably because she wasn’t playing Rose. 

Still disappointed that no other companions came back, though. Not that I think this should’ve been a big reunion with companions showing up left right and centre. The last thing this needed to be was another ‘Five Doctors’. Moffat should really be commended for his restraint, because this could’ve easily been a mess if he had gone overboard on the fan services and Easter eggs.  

Still, would’ve been nice if just one classic companion had been there. I bet is Elisabeth Sladen was still alive they would’ve asked her to appear.

“Stuck between a girl and a box. Story of your life, eh, Doctor?” 

No one expects a fez. 

So was that horse Arthur? 

Look, it’s David’s controversial not as spiky as it should be hair. God, I don’t even want to know how many angry Tumblr posts were written about that. 

“I'm not English.” No, David John McDonald, you’re not. 

“You're a Zygon.” He’s probably been waiting his whole life to say that. I bet Moffat didn’t even have to persuade him to be in this, he just had to said “Zygons, David” and he ran back to Wales as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.  

“Whatever you've got planned, forget it. I'm the Doctor. I'm nine hundred and four years old. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I am the Oncoming Storm, the Bringer of Darkness, and you are basically just a rabbit, aren't you? Okay, carry on. Just a general warning.”

The long awaited return of the Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Doctors. 

“Now, I want this stone dust analysed. And I want a report in triplicate, with lots of graphs and diagrams and complicated sums on my desk, tomorrow morning, ASAP, pronto, L O L. See? Job. Do I have a desk?”

What was so special about this fez that they needed to lock it away in the Under Gallery?  

The Doctors comparing the size of their, ahem, screwdrivers.

The face(s) of a man who just realised he made out with a Zygon. 

“There's two of us. I'm reversing it, you're reversing it back again. We're confusing the polarity.”

“Why are you pointing your screwdrivers like that? They're scientific instruments, not water pistols.” 

“Brave words, Dick van Dyke.”

“Oh, the pointing again. They're screwdrivers! What are you going to do, assemble a cabinet at them?” Not every day you get scolded by your younger self. 

“Timey-wimey?” "I've no idea where he picks that stuff up.” Rule 1, the Doctor lies. 

I could honestly watch these three bickering all day.  

“Shall we ask for a better quality of door so we can escape?”

The Black Archive, home of all the Easter eggs.  

“Think about it. Americans with the ability to rewrite history? You've seen their movies.” Trump isn’t letting a lack of time travel stop him rewrite history and erase the Obama Administration. 

“Help to pass the timey-wimey.” 

The man who regrets and the man who forgets.

“Hang on. Three of you in one cell, and none of you thought to try the door?” This is Doctor Who in a nutshell. The Doctor is so consumed by how clever he is that, unlike the companion, he fails to notice the bleedin’ obvious.  

Those creatures? Has Osgood not read up on UNIT history? 

And this is why you don’t fuck with a Tudor. 

“Is there a lot of this in the future?” “It does start to happen, yeah.” Wait until you meet your future wife, then there’ll be a lot more than kissing. 

Who doesn’t love the round things?  

“Oh, you've redecorated. I don't like it.” He’s so offended. How dare this stick insect not like his TARDIS. 

Just how dangerous are River’s heels? 

“Somewhere in your memory is a man called Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart. I am his daughter.” And that is the exact point that Zygon Kate knew they were fucked. 

“You tell yourself it's justified, but it's a lie. Because what I did that day was wrong. Just wrong.” And yet a lot of people do try to justify it simply because they don’t like that Moffat undid it. 

“Peace in our time.” And that worked out just as well as when Neville said it. 

There you go, Doctor, a big red button. 

“Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame.”

A lot of people really hated the shots of the children playing. I think they preferred it if Time Lords were all just evil people so it made it okay that the Doctor killed them. 

I really did think they were going to push the button and kill them all. I was so relived when they didn’t. Committing genocide would really not have been the best way to celebrate 50 years of Doctor Who.

This here is why the companions are so important and why the Doctor must never travel alone. If the Doctor had been alone he would’ve pushed that button and killed them all. But Clara was there, representing all those who came before her, to remind the Doctor not only of the many innocent lives he about to take, but also who is he. Not a warrior, not a hero, but a Doctor. 

“Then what do I do?” "What you've always done. Be a doctor.”

“Never cruel or cowardly.” "Never give up, never give in.”

“Gentlemen, I have had four hundred years to think about this. I've changed my mind.” This isn’t seven years of character development being wiped away, this is the result of that development. 

“Oh, Bad Wolf girl, I could kiss you.” "Yeah, that's going to happen.” 

“No, sir. All thirteen!” Capaldi intensifies. 

“Geronimo!” "Allons-y!” "Oh, for God's sake. Gallifrey stands!”

“So I won't remember that I tried to save Gallifrey rather than burn it. I'll have to live with that. But for now, for this moment, I am the Doctor again.”  

“I suppose it makes sense. Wearing a bit thin.” Miss you so much, Sir John. 

You fucking smoothie, Ten. 

“I don't want to go.”  If David returns for the 60th will they find another way to make these his final words again? 

Tom!!! My favourite Doctor. Still wonderful after all these years.

Can’t describe how happy it makes me to see my two favourite Doctors together on screen. 

“Oh, it's entirely up to you. Your choice, eh? I can only tell you what I would do if I were you. Oh, if I were you. Oh, perhaps I was you, of course. Or perhaps you are me." 

“Clara sometimes asks me if I dream. Of course I dream, I tell her. Everybody dreams. But what do you dream about, she'll ask. The same thing everybody dreams about, I tell her. I dream about where I'm going. She always laughs at that. But you're not going anywhere, you're just wandering about. That's not true. Not any more. I have a new destination. My journey is the same as yours, the same as anyone’s. It's taken me so many years, so many lifetimes, but at last I know where I'm going. Where I've always been going. Home, the long way round.” 

Yeah, the effect isn’t that great, but this shot still brings a tear to my eye. 

Next Time: The Time of the Doctor

[randomname1689]

Enchanté, everyone. My name is Slyn Vulpes the story-teller, and this is my second fan fiction. to read this story, i recommend you know pretty much every game of the franchise, because there will have spoiler of every game so far, even BOTW. Also, OC. If you don't like, don't read. Beside, he will be the main protagonist.

Enjoy.

At first, everything was black, only darkness could be seen. Then, three coloured orbs slowly emerged from this darkness, and weakly, spoke in unison:

"After all... you returned... but too late... the ancient evil of this land has returned again... but this time not alone... powerful opponents will be on your way... be careful... You, who bear ours last hopes".

Their speech over, the orbs start to fade away with the darkness. And our protagonist, an young-looking man who were wearing a silver and gold helmet, dark pant and boots, and a white tunic with a red cross on it slowly wake up in a dark hallway. Of course, he didn't know where he was, neither how he end up here, all he remember was that he took his portal, but after that… nothing. After some quick look around him, our knight starts to explore his environment. It seemed that he was in the castle of some evil lord. How he could tell? By the bats, the dark purple paint of the walls, and also because after a few minutes of research, he end up in a room where was imprisoned Link. It's not a joke, and there was no doubt about it, Link, the Young hero of time, was right in front of him, unconscious, and after this, our hero knew where he was, when, and more important, that he will need to run.

And that was what he did, he run alone in the darks hallways, while looking for a way to get out of Ganondorf's castle. Or maybe it's Ganon's? He doesn't know and he doesn't care: neither forms are friendly; neither is going to let a danger like the hero of time, being free to put an end to their schemes. That probably the reason our hero has maybe the whole army of the castle who try to hunt him down. But thank god… I mean the goddess, he finally found the exit. With no hesitation, he used his gauntlet on his left arm, and creates a round shield, which he immediately throw at the giant door, before jumping on it and use it like a board. Soon he reach castle town, were some ReDead were waiting. Of course, when they see him they try to freeze him with their screams, and he simply smile at that. After all, there is no way it's going to work against him, and even if it does, he will be still moving because of his shield. The screams didn't affect him just like he thought. How? Well the answer will be waiting, because our skateboarder hero is now blocked by the drawbridge of the town. He didn't have time for this, so he took back his shield, and turn it into a crossbow mounted on his forearm, Still using the power of his gauntlet, he charge it with an arrow, before fires it on his obstacle. Then he looks behind him: the army was nearly there, and the ReDead… has only move of four steps. Our protagonist faces again the drawbridge, and with a snap of his fingers, he blew it up with his arrow, reducing it into ashes. But when the smoke dies down, our hero sees he has no other choices but the fight. Maybe all the monsters of Hyrule, except the Deku scrub and the wall masters, were here, waiting for a fight. Our encircled hero, knowing there was no other choice but the fight, walk to his enemies, and put his right hand on the sword of his back, meaning he was ready. You are maybe thinking that he knows he's not going to make it and he want to die like a warrior. But actually, he wasn't afraid of dying or something. Oh no! He was just annoyed by the fact he will have to fight, knowing he will be vanquisher. And even if they cannot see his eyes, all monsters could sense, if it's not feel, his might in his dreadful, invisible, look. Seeing that, some monsters, thinking they could take him down with ease, decided to attack him, so they will being see as powerful ones by their lord; a very bad idea. A slash too fast to be seen later and they were just bones on the floor. The monsters took a step back of surprise, not sure of what happened, but before others fools could do anything stupid, a very well know voice of this franchise, spoke from the sky:

"Impressive, young swordsman!"

Everyone looked at the proprietary of the voice, as he landed in front of our hero, he was exactly like any of his human incarnation, his only notable difference was his white armor. But it doesn't matter, what's matter is that our protagonist is face to face with Ganondorf himself, and both seem ready to clash theirs swords until one bites the dust.

"I would have killed them anyway, because they didn't respect my orders... But I have to say, I merely see you draw your sword, more than impressive."

"..."

"So, now young fool, you're going to tell me, WHERE IS THE HERO OF TIME!"

Our silent hero just tightens his grip on his sword for all answer.

"It seems I will have to get the information I need by force. My minions! Capture him alive!"

Of course, more afraid of their lord than by our knight, all monsters obeyed and rush over our hero, except one shadow behind our antagonist, who stopped it with his hand. A shadow our protagonist recognize pretty fast, it was, without doubt, Zelda. She was different, more like a porcelain doll than the joyfully princess he remembers. But, you can figure it out why easily: she was controlled by the evil king. The monsters where only at two inches of our knight when he understand it, and I think they didn't expect to be send flying away by a powerful wind coming from him, instead of his blade. The princess Zelda stayed still, because of her mindless state, and Ganondorf smiled at first, thinking it would be interesting, but his smile faded and became a puzzled expression when he sees the dark aura emanating from our hero. A dark aura that was actually pure anger, an anger which was so powerful that our hero wasn't able to contain it physically, an anger that could be seen in his now glowing blue-greens eyes. Our angered hero finally speaks solemnly:

"GANONDORF, REINCARNATION OF DEMISE, YOU HAVE DARED TAKING THE CONTROL OF THIS KINGDOM WITH COWARDLY METHODS, KILLED MANY INNOCENTS, AND TOOK AWAY THE CHILDHOOD AND THE INNOCENCE OF THESE CURSED CHILDRENS. FOR THAT, I, SLYN VULPES THE HYLIEN, PROTECTOR OF THIS WORLD, WILL MAKE YOU PAY."

The wind became more violent as our hero speak, the grass started to burn, while the temperature drop until ice could be formed on the armor of our antagonist. As the mighty army started to feel fear, Ganondorf seemed amused:

"So you can talk, I started to think you were mute."

He laughed a bit, and continued:

"And you are the protector of Hyrule I been warned about? The mighty Slyn Vulpes? "

"I AM, BUT NOT ONLY OF HYRULE, I'M THE PROTECTOR OF EVERY SINGLE KINGDOM ON THIS WORLD. AND I WILL PUT YOU DOWN ONCE AND FOR ALL"

"Well, this is promising! I was told you are strong enough to be able to slash a failing moon in two. Let's see if you are really that strong! My minions! Kill him!"

All fearful, the army hesitated. But, knowing they would die if they disobey, and could maybe survive if they obey, they chose the logical choice and attacked. They didn't last long, burned by the fire storm our hero made out of his anger, leaving nothing but burned floor and red heated weapons behind. Now, our really pissed off protagonist, charged once again his crossbow, and targeted his opponent with a new kind of arrow. Zelda, still a puppet in the hand of the evil, put herself between the arrow and the Targeted to take it instead. But, the grin behind the helmet of my friend tells me he expected this cowardly maneuverer. And so, the arrow crossed Zelda without hurting her, before hitting his target, right on the heart. But of course, it's wasn't enough to finish this story on the first chapter, so our sly hero fired dozens of the same arrow as quick as he could, each time, the puppet tried to protect the puppeteer, and each time, the arrow simply crossed by, hitting the still off guard Ganondorf. But the shock didn't last long enough for the last arrows to hit, blocked by their target. Ganondorf fired multiple magical orbs to our hero, who send them back with a strike of his sword, before being blocked by the puppet princess. Her screams fueling the anger already without equal, of our crusader swordsman. Ganondorf repeated the attack, but our hero wasn't named Slyn for nothing, and so he send back the attack again, but before anyone react, he targeted Zelda with his gauntlet, and fire a clawshot to the princess, stopping her before she could block the attack. Our antagonist changes his tactics, and attacked with a sword, distracting our hero who blocked the attack with his gauntlet in shield mode, before going into a sword fight. The two enemies clashed their swords with all their might, and our hero nearly win, but a light arrow cowardly fired on his back by the puppet princess weakened him, and leaved only a quarter of heart before he falls on the ground. Ganondorf laughed at the view of our fallen knight, and then he continued his speech between two laughs:"So it was true. The mighty servant of the light has for weakness his own master!"

He grabbed our hero by the collar, and looked right into his glowing eyes before he continues:

"And you thought you: a foolish, pitiful Hylien could defeat me? Mandrag Ganon, the king of darkness itself?"

Weakly, our knight simply shrugged his shoulders and said:

"I'm the protagonist of this fan fiction after all."

A bit caught off guard by the answer, Ganondorf stared for a while at the fourth wall breaker, once more puzzled, before throwing him on the ground. Then, he prepared his sword for giving the last strike. But before he could say farewell to the hero, he received a light arrow that made him fly away. Still on the floor, our hero with glowing eyes mockingly noticed:

"Those arrows are like my first girlfriend: they cheat on you with another man, before trying to cheat on him with you."

Ganondorf ignored the remark, and concentrated on the shooter: Zelda. She was weakly standing with her bow, facing the evil king, and tried with all her might to shoot another magical arrow, but passed out before she could archive it. Our hero rushed to her, and stopped her from violently failing on the ground, while his adversary could only mutter:

"She should not have being able to free herself, how…"

"Because of my arrows."

The answer came from our knight, now back at full health.

"You see, they're not arrow which you can find anywhere or make by yourself, no, these arrows judge, and cannot harm innocents."

He slowly put Zelda down, while adding:

"That also include spells, curses, and unfortunately, inanimate objects as well. After your spell received all the arrows I fired, the light of her own arrows finished to free her mind."

A silence took place between the two fighters, but it didn't take long before the mad laugh of Ganondorf break it. It was one of those laughs, who make your whole body trembling with horror and terror, thinking you're going to put every ounce and fibre of your being to survive against him, or in the case of myself and of my friend, it's one of those that give us the sentiment that we are going to have a long day.

"HE warned me about you, HE told me about your might, HE told me about your tricks, your regenerative abilities, and even your weakness, and yet, you still manage to surprise me!"

"And… I make you laugh."

"You can sarcasm if you want, it still laughable."

He continued to laugh like it was the most funny thing on earth, while our hero searched the answer to a question which keep tormented him, but still keeps his guard on, in case of some trick. But the curiosity overcame the fear of the answer, and our crusader finally asked:

"So? Who told you about how awesome I am? Maybe the same one who permitted you to conquer Hyrule in this time-line? "

"Oh! Our common friend? "

At the simple combination of words: "common friend", our hero could think of only one foe : an person maybe as ancient than time itself, who have in his entire lifetime, only seek the all mighty power of light, and killed, destroyed, annihilated everything that was in its way, including universes and butterflies. And to stop him many impossible warriors must have paid the highest price. Only the think of this horrible man bring back our poor hero into deep, painful memories: an happy life, disturbed; an eternity of tracking, mixed into a war without alike; a battle between two infinites armies, with great consequences; a multi-verse finally safe from danger, but all his saviors only able to cry on the dead bodies of their beloveds; and an immortality of guilt. But it could not be this man: he's dead and buried ... right?

"The only name he gave me was: "the light". But, I think we had enough talks and laughs for now. After all, we usually say: less talking, MORE KILLING!"

Ganondorf attacked once more, this time by firing a laser of pure light, way too fast for our caught off guard knight to dodge; and so he took it, surprised by the fact that this holy weapon are in the hand of this dark man. Taking no risk, our villain dashed to the weakened warrior, ready to finish the battle here and now. Our hero tried to raise his shield, but miserably failed. Only centimeters was between the two opponents, when a miracle happen: an holy golden wall blocked the attack, forming the all mighty triforce with our hero and the princess inside. Well aware of what will happen next, Gannondorf let his rage express itself; while howling somewhat like a dragon, he tried to slice with all his might the holy protection. But even if he managed to cracked it, the golden shield never failed. The two target of the raging monarch vanished under his red eyes. When our dark monarch was able to reach them, they were long gone. The only person left on the desolated world was an enraged Gerudo, screaming out his fury.

What will happen next? An encounter with the golden goddess. And also, the explanation of the story's name. Everyone here speak Hylian, not English, Spanish nor French. As for the arrows of our protagonist, like he said, they cannot hurt innocent, and that implies object as well. For short, if an object is on the way of the arrow, the arrow will not hurt it if the object wasn't used for a evil deed. But if it was used, for example, to kill someone, the arrow will be able to touch it.

If you have read any errors, please notice me.

Critics are welcome.