#okay so this accidentally ended a bit more gen than i was aiming for but i just really needed to post it

[madwomanwithawarehouse]

Stoncy Week 2023 Day 1 - Spy AU

Surveillance expert Jonathan Byers and weapons specialist Nancy Wheeler are a team. He shoots people on film and she just shoots them. Recruited out of college, they've been a perfect fit since training together for the Agency four years ago. They bonded over a shared pain, the loss of a sibling and a friend respectively - both attributed to Russian involvement. It's not the easiest job, but they do their best to trust the Agency and take satisfaction from their work.

When their next assignment arrives on a tape recorder and tells them that they are to team up with a couple of deep cover operatives, code named "The Scoops Troop," they But things become less simple when Nancy's comes face to face with her first love, Steve, and an old classmate.

Both long presumed dead.

Undercover specialists and code-breakers Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley are a team. He lowers defenses and she gets people to hand them the key to whatever the Agency needs, cracking them as easily as they crack codes. They're good at what they do, but neither of them wanted to be here. There are certain choices you can't make without getting attention and sneaking into a hidden Russian base and uncovering their plot over the course of a weekend is one of them. A gas explosion in a mall is a great way to explain away two missing teenagers. After many pointed threats and a year of training, Steve and Robin went undercover for the first time.

Eight years later, there's no one better. But while they have each other, it's a lonely existence. A fresh face and one from their past might just change things.

...If they can learn to work together.

[lex-n-weegie]

ACCIDENTAL KISS WIRH BLUE BURB BOY PLEASE?! Sorry, I am so hype to read your drabbles. I need some cuteness in my life today. /gen. ~@nikkzships

Oh ho HO sounds like a fun creative challenge 👀 (also that means so much aaaa ty sm 😭)

Kissed

7. accidental

The day was bright and shining, birds were singing and flowers were blooming. A small monster girl with a mushroom cap was practically floating down the sidewalk. Noelle, the sweet girl she is, helped organize a little hangout between her, Palette, and Berdly. Noelle even said she'd run a little "late" to give them some alone time. Palette nearly hugged the life out of her!

It was down by the river, and they all were supposed to bring their Swatches to play some multiplayer games. Palette had a small bag, said Swatch inside along with some of her games. They looked up at the beautiful trees and clouds, a big ol dopey smile on her face. Today was going to be fantastic!

She finally made it to the river, the nerdy blue bird himself already sitting near the edge and watching the water.

"Berdly! Hi!" She called out, catching his attention.

"Ah, my pal, nice to see that you you've arrived!" Berdly smiled, smug as usual. The little mushroom quickly jogged over and placed her bag a safe distance from the lake before sitting semi close to him. "Noelle informed me that she'll sadly be late, but luckily I am here to entertain." He proudly boasted, hand on his chest. She giggled a bit, something that briefly made his heart skip a beat.

"Well, I'm happy to send time with you." She smiled, slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. Well, that was some slight unexpected kindness. Berdly quickly shook the weird feeling off and grabbed his own bag.

"And you'll be even more happy once you see what I have riiiight here!" He brought out a video game with a flashy cover, making Palette gasp.

"You got HareWare Switch it up?!" Her eyes sparkled as she flapped her hands, stimming in excitement.

"Yup! Good grades continue to reward you." His smug smile grew, glad he could insert his smartness in the conversation.

"Yeah they do!" She scooted up closer. "Can I watch you play? Just for a bit?" She begged. Berdly thought about it for a moment, he didn't particularly like the idea of leaving Noelle out. But her big grin and shining eyes...how could he say no to them?

"Why of course! I might even be generous enough to give you a turn." She clapped happily, making a cute squealing noise. A genuine smile took over his face, until the smug look he tended to have. He took out the game from it's case and put it in his Swatch, Palette scooting even closer until their sides were touching. The bird's feathers fluffed up, but he lightly shook it off before finally booting up the videogame.

A good couple minutes has passed, neither of them really knew how long. Palette was just enamored, watching the game intently while Berdly focused on doing his best, aiming to impress. Between the sounds from the videogame, the splashing river, and the occasional gust of wind on the warm day, it was very, very calming.

So was his heart beating so fast?!

Accidentally, he had lost his last life, the level ending.

"Aw, you were so close too!" Palette pouted, looking up at the bird.

"W-well it won't be hard to get back where I was-" Berdly had turned to face Palette, unknowingly closer than intended.

His beak was now right against her lips. Not exactly a kiss, but oh my god their lips were still touching holy crap holy crap-

They both immediately flew back onto the grass as if physically shocked, bright red blush overtaking both their faces.

"D-did we just?!" Palette's face covered her cheeks.

"Uh, Maybe?! I don't know?!?!" His feathered hands gently touched his beak, his heart now so loud he could practically hear it in his ears.

"I-I'm so sorry!! I didn't mean- Oh gosh no I-"

"You're fine you're fine! You're okay it was fine! I-I mean-!" Crap, words were failing him now. Curses!

"Sorry for being late, I'm here!" Noelle called out, smiling for a moment before she noticed both of her friends, red faced and wide eyed.

"Uh...Did I miss something?"

[jaefmin]

Talent hunt - J.JK

DKSDKLSD HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE <33

➳ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female reader

➳ Genre: pure crack✨friends to lovers au, lil bit of fluff in the end, friend!jk, crack!jk, the oc's kinda talentless TUMBLR ADDICT OC FOR Y'ALL!

➳ Summary: Jungkook's filled with talents, just like your snack bowl. He can't believe it, that you do nothing except writing your articles. He wants to find it all in you, because he knows that you've got the energy. Read on to find out what happens between both these characters!!

➳ M.list

“I mean, you would have some specialty at least.” He pleaded, again. “I told you already, Jungkook, I don’t do anything.” You replied for the ninth time, sparks of hope left bursting inside you that he would stop. “It can’t be that way. Every person is special in some or the other way, I know you’ve got something.” Those sparks inside seemed to find their way down pretty quick. You found it pretty annoying, especially when he had to do this between your work. You tried to come up with some reply for him to stop. Once you’d tell him about it, he’d think over it and stop annoying you. After thinking for a while with Jungkook sitting in front of you with puppy eyes, you came up with one.

“Yes!! I have a specialty!!” You bursted out, and Jungkook’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Ha!! I knew it!! Told ya!!” His face lit up, excitement filled inside to know what it was. “There’s this site called tumblr, and it’s GOLD. I have a lot of mutuals over there and they’re the reason I’m alive right now. I’m pretty famous there.” Your chest widened at the amount of notes you had on your posts. Jungkook's expression seemed to change every word of your answer, before he came up with another question. “N-no, Social media-? I didn't mean that.. Any real talent? More of like, uhh sports? Drawing? I bet you’re good at drawing!! You’re that typical type with glasses and you’d look pretty good with a brush.” You doubted yourself earlier on calling Jungkook a crackhead, but it seems like you have to doubt yourself upon doubting Jungkook being a crackhead or not now. ‘It isn’t what it seems like, kook. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.” Jungkook, being back to the moody gen-z he is, rolled his eyes at your comment. “Come on girl!! Don’t be a mom! I know you’ve got this!” He hits you playfully while speaking, at you could have sworn, if he had just applied 🤏🏻 much more force, you would have gone flying ten feet away. “A MOM?!!? EXCUSE ME!?!?” Your tone didn't seem to satisfy him, “Alright, calm down smelly. Since, you’re think good at nothing, we’ll go through a list of things that I’m good at or I know, and then I’m pretty sure we’ll find a good quality from them that you have.” You knew the article you were writing wasn’t going to get anywhere. “One condition.” The man in front of you rolled his eyes once again, “Go on, mom.” You shot a death glare at him and that was all it took; his hands were up in the air, peace written all over his face. “You let me complete my work after we finish this.” Jungkook seemed surprised, “That’s all?” He pauses, “Duh, I’m doing this for you to feel good. I can stop right now if you say.” Being a person who wasn’t contended hurting others feelings, you replied “Alright then, let’s do it.”

He sat on the bed, and you followed him upon it. “Okay, so first question, how fast can you run?” He asks with curiosity. “Hmph, bold of you to think I even get up from my seat.” His eyebrows curl up, and you know that he’s saying something in his head about you, like you’re hindered. “So if you’re saying you don’t get up from your seat, do you only write articles all day?” He questions, “I just told you, you forgetful egg, I’m also on tumblr! And that, I’m telling you, it takes up more than half of my day.” You reminded him, and whenever the thought of tumblr came into your mind, you internally smiled at yourself. ”Jungkook seemed to be in deep thought, and again came up with a question. “Y/N! Yes! You write articles! That’s your speciality!! Your writing’s good!!” Your eyebrows shot up along with Jungkook’s and both of your eyes widened, you’ve come up with something! But the reason you were happy is that this long conversation finished, and you could finally get back to finishing your article. “Yes Jungkook!! That’s the good quality that I have!! So it’s done, we’re finished, and now I’m getting back to my work.” You got up from the bed, and were about to get back to your seat, when Jungkook caught your wrist.

“That’s only one quality Y/n!! I have a lot more things that I’m good at!! It can’t be only one!” You balled your hand into a fist, annoyance filling you up. You tried to calm yourself down instead of exploding right at Jungkook because he’s your friend and you do care about a person’s feelings. You turned, “I know! But I’m so sorry, koo!! I really have a lot of work right now, so mind if we keep this convo for later?” You asked, hoping this would lead to a finished article at the end. You knew this wasn’t getting anywhere, Jungkook would definitely want to continue. “But Y/n,” He placed both your hands in his, “You know you’ve been feeling unmotivated lately, right?” His voice deepened. “It is really important! We need to do this! I understand that your article’s important too, but your mental health should be given more importance. It’s alright if you lose your job, but health-” It’s funny how he makes you think about his duality in every conversation. Sure of the fact that even begging and falling to his feet won’t help in this situation, you intruded his speech. “I understand.” You pressed his hand, “Let’s dive into it!” You were pretty good at fake-smiling and the tone in your voice seemed quite believable, the sarcasm hidden behind. You took your seat on the bed in front of Jungkook. “That’s the Y/N I wanna see!!” You smiled at his innocence, and continued the conversation.

“So, what about any sport that you’re interested in? Maybe something like badminton, football, volleyball, or swimming?” Jungkook’s next question popped up, and it reminded you of the old days. “The last time I swam was when I was ten, because my elder brother accidentally pushed me into the water, and I almost drowned, and like everyone’s parents, even mines were triggered and they pushed me to learn swimming.” Another sarcastic reply made its way through your lips, Jungkook again bewildered by how unattached you are. “And well basketball, I used to like it, but then I almost broke my nose in a match, never found the courage to get back on the ground again. Jungkook was quick to reply, “That’s not called getting triggered, Y/N. They did it because that's gonna help you in some or the other way in future.” Your face went blank at his comment, “Who's being the mom now?” “N-No, I’m not-” Jungkook went red stuttering at every word. "Next thing we’re looking at is… reading! Do you like reading?” He immediately planned to change the topic, your face retaining the blank expression that’s always put on it. Did he just forget that you write articles? Still, boys don’t get these kinds of death glares or eye contacts girls make, so Jungkook stays clueless. His eyebrows furrow up, thoughts muddled up in his mind. After deep thinking for a while, Jungkook strikes. Proudness takes over you, you got yourself a friend who understands girls.

“Nevermind!! We’ll move on?” Your mouth flung open at his reply, a feeling of your hopes shooting to the sky but then immediately bursting out like a firework, sparks falling to the ground. Can someone really expect something from Jeon Jungkook? “I’ve run out of ideas Y/n..” He pouts sadly, and that’s the cue to your happiness. “Okay that’s great! Now I’m getting back to writing my article!” History repeats itself; you get up from the bed to be pulled back down again. Not being someone who can keep their feelings suppressed for a long time, you aim to bawl right at Jungkook, but before anything comes out of your mouth, he interrupts. “Just one more thing Y/n.” The extra amount of innocence spread on Jungkook’s face is something that anyone would give into, and personally you did find him attractive. The way he’s dressed looking all cuddly, you would give into his arms right this second if he asked to. Yes, you did dream about him every night before going to sleep, how fun it would be to have someone like him taking care of you. His duality is out of the question; there’s no one better than him. If it were for him, you’d leave the whole world and give into Jungkook’s arms, but the strings of life keep pulling you back towards them.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize how the time passed by, before you heard a couple snaps in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N???” Jungkook waved his hand in front of you a couple times, bringing you back to reality. Work can be postponed for this angel, just the way you’re punctual. You sat back down and placed your hands above Jungkook’s. He cleared his throat, straightened his back, and began. “Look, people like you, I mean, the ones interested in social media, glasses, look cuddly and cute like penguins,” Jungkook was good, but in some cases you couldn’t guarantee what he would come up with. “I bet you’ve had a boyfriend.” His statement caught you by surprise, your heart racing inside. You didn’t have the courage to reply to him, you are the least interested in opening up. It wasn’t a moment before Jungkook shot back at you, “I’ll tell you what type suits you.” Jungkook’s pretty much of a crackhead, but something urged you not to stop him. You wanted to know which perspective Jungkook looks at you with.

“I think your boyfriend would’ve loved your kisses. I have a feeling you’re a really good kisser, and you would often want cuddles from him. And yes,” He laughs, “You would be a wholesome of cute actions, and there’d be no one else who loved it more than him.” He booped your nose and finished, and not gonna lie, you could drool on him right now. His face was gleaming with compassion, eyes so deep you could drown in them. His lips curved into a tiny smile, the bunny teeth making their appearance. All you wanted to ever do was stay glued to him and keep on listening to those beautiful words that came out of his mouth. His eyes met yours and he leaned you in, a soft expression settling on his face as a stroke of sunlight passed through it. Jungkook continued asking further, “Can I kiss you?” His fingers gently stroked on your cheekbones and his eyes met yours. Faces not centimetres apart, both of your breaths tangled. You locked his lips with yours and gripped onto Jungkook’s neck, your sweet action making him give in. This is what you wanted, and this is what he wanted. You both stayed the same way for a while before separating.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

gon rb and then add the taglist beuase dumblr's mean </3

[hikari-writes]

『Dr. Stone』

Fluff Oneshot

❝ Only To You ❞

Request: Hey! ^^ Can I ask for a scenario where Ryusui constantly flirts with the reader and it's clear that he likes her. But she doesen't like his greedy and capitalist personality but somehow still finds him charming and she's very conflicted and there's a lot of tension (somewhat like tsundere dinamics). So some angst but fluff at the end. Sorry if it's weird >

Pairing: Nanami Ryusui

Warning: LOTSA FLOOF

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1.9k

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE i had trouble making this one ngl,,, I'm not the bezt at making a angst+fluff fanfic 😔 if it's angst, i gotta make it full on angst and if it's fluff i gotta make it full on fluff. So im sorry this has no crumbs of angst 😢 or,,, should i even be sorry??? Do u even wanna angst 😳😳😳 lmao but anyways! I finally finished my last request and I'm drained. Hope you like this,, lotsa love!

“You're looking beautiful as always, Y/N.”

You shot a glare at Ryusui before turning away from him.

"....What do you want?"

"I was just saying what's on my mind. No need to get so defensive," he said as he grins, showing his neatly aligned, pearly white teeth. 

You heaved a sigh in defeat. This man has been constantly flirting with you ever since he first saw you and you *don't* like the attention you're receiving. 

He may have been a popular rich kid back in the modern world with many beautiful women beside him, but in this stone age, you couldn't help but to see him in a bad vision. 

You're not one to mind flirty behaviours shown by others, but what made you truly detest Ryusui is because of his greedy and arrogant nature. It just somehow hit your nerve, and you don't like it. 

"Do you need help with that?" He asked as he pointed towards a pile of fabric you were carrying. They were meant to be sent to Yuzuriha, and you did not wish to waste any more time on Ryusui so you just shook your head in response and quickly left him. 

As you tried to leave, you accidentally tripped on a stick that was lying around and fell flat on your face. The pain from the fall hurts, but it was nothing serious. Rather, you were more concerned of Ryusui who just witnessed your embarrassing fall. 

You turned to face him but he wasn't at his previous spot. You wondered where he went off to when suddenly he appeared in front of your eyes with a concerned face.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked as he cupped both your cheeks in his hands, inspecting every single part of your beautiful face. The close distance between your faces and the warmth his hands were radiating made your face flushed. You completely froze in your spot, not knowing what to do. 

After a few more seconds had passed, you finally snapped back into reality and moved away from his touch.

"Don't touch me so casually, please," your voice came out louder and calmer than you had intended, and you internally praised yourselves for not stuttering at all even though your face beet red.

"I'm sorry about that, but are you really okay? You didn't hurt yourself from the fall or anything?"

The way he asked that in such a concerned and genuine manner made your heart skip a beat. You didn't know he was that concerned about your well-being. 

"I'm perfectly fine. Please excuse me."

You quickly left him alone, more careful this time as to not trip for the second time.

Ryusui watched as your back slowly left his vision before standing up from his crouching position. 

"You really like her, don't you?"

He turned back to see Gen leaning against a wall while looking at him with the eyes of all-knowing. 

"You can ompliment-cay all the women in this world, but in the end, she's the only one you'll ever look at with those eyes."

Ryusui gave a light scoff at his statement. 

"I hate to admit it to you, but yeah, you're absolutely right."

How could he not? You may act cold around him, but he always saw how sweet and kind you can be. How hardworking and stubborn you are sometimes made him smile to himself. How he wished he could hold you in his arms right now. 

~~**~~

You stopped in your tracks as you heard the familiar boisterous voice that belonged to no one other than Ryusui. He was talking with Senku and the others. Probably about something important but you noticed how his charming smile never left his face during the discussion.

You were so caught up in staring at him that you didn't realize the approaching Minami behind you. 

"Who are you staring at, hmm?"

You almost screamed at the sudden surprise but you managed to cover your mouth before then and when you turned around, your eyes narrowed at the grinning Minami.

"Stop scaring me like that, Minami," you said as you glared at her. She only grinned mischievously as a response and looked over you to see who you were staring at.

"I smelled a maiden in love so I just had to. But anyways, you were looking at Ryusui huh?"

Your face turned red at her guess, exposing the fact that you indeed were staring at him. Minami's grin widened as she saw your reaction. 

"I wasn't staring at anyone. Besides, I'm not a 'maiden in love' or anything. I DON'T like him," you turned away from her, covering your face to hide the blush that's forming on your face. 

"I doubt that~ You were totally staring at him. I know you like him, Y/N."

A vein popped on your forehead and you continued glaring at her who seemed to be too excited about someone else's love life.

"Oh, fancy seeing you two beauties here."

Ryusui's voice from behind you made you let out a squeal in surprise. You quickly hid behind Minami, using her as a shield from Ryusui. 

Ryusui blinked in confusion when he saw how defensive you got as soon as he came close to you. A little part of him was a bit hurt because of what you did, but he decided to not pay it any mind and continued smiling at you two. Gen who was near looked at you in amusement. He didn't expect you to get so embarrassed to the point of hiding behind Minami. 

"What were you two talking about?" 

At his question, you glared daggers at Minami, silently warning her to not spill the beans. She just sweatdropped as a response.

"Nothing much," she replied to him nonchalantly. He looked dissatisfied with the vague answer and was about to question more but before he could you had already tugged at Minami's arm, pulling her away from him.

"Sorry, but we're a bit busy. Excuse us."

And with that, you quickly left him all the while dragging Minami along with you. 

As soon as you and Minami were no longer on sight, Ryusui heaved a quiet sigh. He wanted to talk more with you, but with the way it is now, it didn't seem possible. 

"Well, if she hates me then, I'll just do everything I can to make her mine!"

Ryusui declared that loudly, showing his greedy nature to the world. Gen shook his head in disappointment. 

"The both of you are really idiots," he whispered that softly to himself.

~~**~~

"You know that Ryusui likes you, right?"

The sudden question by Kohaku that was aimed at you made you choke on your water. Yuzuriha who was beside you quickly rubbed circles behind your back, easing your coughing. 

"W-where did you even get that idea??"

Kohaku's lips formed into a cat-like smile, amused at your flustered reaction. 

"I mean, it's kinda obvious? He always flirts and compliments you most of the time. Sure, he is like that towards everyone but there's something special that he only shows to you, y'know?"

Your face flushed at her statement, but you never let yourself be indulged in the idea that Ryusui had some kind of special feelings towards you. 

"Don't be ridiculous. He's like that towards everyone. There's...no way he would like me. I keep acting like such a cold person towards him."

Everyone fell silent at your confession. They don't understand how you could be so dense of Ryusui's feelings towards you. And it's clear that you also felt the same towards him, even if you keep denying it. 

"Then, why don't you give him a confession chocolate next Valentine?"

Nikki suddenly suggested that, breaking the heavy silence. 

"That's right! I heard from Taiju that Senku's planning to make chocolate for Valentine's. I think that's perfect," Yuzuriha chimed in, nodding her head along.

"That's...a bit….uhm…."

You tried to find the right word to decline the suggestion but after seeing all the girl's pleading eyes, you just can't bring yourself to say no to them.

"Fine. But I'm just making him a chocolate! No more no less."

The girls all cheered in unison, succeeding in convincing you to make chocolate for Ryusui.

~~**~~

You held the box of chocolate you had decorated neatly close to your rapidly beating heart. You had helped Senku and the others in making the chocolate in hopes of understanding the process better before making it yourself. The taste was pretty good, if you'd say so yourself. 

That night, you searched for Ryusui everywhere. You hadn't seen him at all today. You asked several other people of his whereabouts but they all shrugged their shoulders, not knowing where the greedy blonde was either.

In the end, you decided to just search for him in his tent. Surprisingly, he was there. Although, he's not awake. You saw him peacefully sleeping with his captain hat on his laid body. 

Your heart raced at the rare sight of him without his hat. The peaceful face of him sleeping made him all the more charming and you could've sworn the sound of your heartbeat was loud enough for other people to hear.

You decided to leave the box of chocolate right beside him and leave it at that. However, as soon as you sat beside him, his eyes shot open and he grabbed your wrist with a lopsided grin adorning his face.

"Hmm~ What were you trying to do, Y/N?"

You tried to retreat back your wrist that he's holding but he didn't loosen the grip on it at all. Your face turned bright red once again and you looked down in embarrassment, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Nothing! I wasn't doing anything!"

"Then what's that box you have there?"

You tried to quickly hide the chocolate box after he pointed it out in hopes he'd forget about it but you yourself knew that it's pointless. 

He sat himself up while still holding onto your wrist. 

"Is that for me?" 

He asked, his voice was soft, unlike how loud he's always been. 

You slowly nod your head. There's no use in hiding that now. 

He reached behind you for the chocolate box. Your breath hitched at the closeness of his face with yours. You could feel his breath brushed your face gently. By the time he had already gotten the chocolate box, your face was already as red as tomato. 

He stared at your flushed face. You hadn't realized it since your eyes are spinning from the embarrassment. He softly cupped your cheeks in both of his hands and made you face him. 

"I like you," he softly whispered to you. It was just your gut feelings, but you *know* he meant every word he said. Your heart was filled to the brim and you couldn't be happier to hear those words come out of his mouth.

"I...like you too..."

He gave his signature smile before slowly bringing your face closer to his...when suddenly,

"Hey! Stop pushing!"

"It's not me! It's Kohaku-chan!"

"Lower your voice a bit!"

The obvious whisper-yelling voices of the people outside interrupted your kiss. You pulled your head away from him and turned to the front of the tent.

"All of you can't be more obvious!"

The voices went silent before they entered the tent with awkward grins on their faces. Your face went bright red but no longer than a second later, Ryusui burst into laughter. 

"Well, isn't this great? Everyone here can witness that you're mine."

Then, he swooped you into a loving kiss, surprising everyone with his action, including yourself. 

You felt like you would faint after he pulled away from the kiss and your face was so hot and red to the point there's even steam coming out of it. Ryusui just grinned nonchalantly after what he just did. You swear this man will be the death of you.

The End

[ranmanjuu]

hi! can you do a gen z mc who got injured at the protests and have them elaborate on what the protests were about to the oda forces? i got tear gassed at a protest so your writing is actually helping me feel better!

tw : injuries from police br*tality, heavy r*cism

first of all i hope you’re okay!! i’m so sorry for taking so long i hope you’re still here reading this ehhh,,. i personally don’t know much of ‘getting injured in protests’ other than rubber bullets and tear gassing—and for anyone out there protesting (also considering recent things that have happened in my country,,,), please be safe out there!

ᅠᅠ

—nobunaga:

the first encounter you had, he didn’t really notice it. he had a lot of things on his plate, mostly about his assassination attempt, you know, the usual. 

it’s only when he invites you to his tenshu to know more about his most interesting chatelaine. after all, the moment his life was out of danger, the immediate groan out of you raised a brow.

in your defense, going back from a protest then just sent back 500 years in the past did put you in a pissy mood. the injustice was enough bullshit, you didn’t want to deal with this right after.

and,,, your response was probably too snarky for a man in power like him. but that’s what compelled him to bring you to the castle. maybe it was spite, or just dangerous curiosity. no one’s spoken to him in such,,, rude manners before.

being all past the whole, chasing-you-down-just-for-you-to-come-to-my-sickass-castle, the dragged-500-years-into-the-warring-states-period, constant-wars-everywhere, and everything in between, you’ve managed to,, calm down decently, at least. you’re just really confused as to why he called you in. 

through your slippery tounge, you accidentally let it slip that you’re from the future; great job! mission one from sasuke already failed. but—you’ve dug your grave, now you have to lie in it.

upon listening to the rest of your explanation, naturally, nobunaga starts asking questions.

after a series of them, mostly about general stuff like technology, etc., he hits you with a curveball. “what is that?” he asks, observing the small patch of reddened skin.

you’ve been shot by a rubber bullet prior to the time traveling. you wager that they were aiming for the neck—a highly fatal area to hit, even with a rubber bullet, mind you—but you were lucky enough to only be hit near the collar bone. still—to say it’s inexcusable is an understatement.

“huh—?” you follow his eyes, then trail your fingers on the edge as you show more of your injury, “. . .got injured a while back. asshole cops think they can just. . .fuckin’. . .”

your sentence turns too faint for him to hear clearly, he only knows that you feel anger from your tone. all he does is gaze passively as the steam comes out of your, slowly.

“what happened exactly?”

and with that one question, he’s in for quite the story. you start off in the beginning; what triggered it all. the injustice brought by those who are said to protect the people, the same ones that shed blood because they knew they could get away with it. then, the protests done by the ones who wanted justice, equality, something that should just be the norm at this point.

and then, the horrible attacks the cops’ve done to hose who protested,,, the mere thought gets your blood boiling, really. no one poised any kind of harm, it was a peaceful protest—and yet they still hurted, perhaps even killed. and they get away with it.

“. . .and i sure as hell ain’t gonna die to some bullshit system. i’ll keep on going at it until people can stop dying so. . .needlessly like that.”

he pauses after hearing you. his eyes have a vague sense of scrutinize, but certainly not at you. "and you still continue to go, even if it results in injuries for you?”

you look back at him, determination burning like a passion, “as long as less people will die of discrimination; as long as our cause is heard in the end—i’ll sacrifice anything for it. for equality.”

the silence rings for minutes.

but the hand on your shoulder quickly strays your mind back to him. to your surprise, a daring smile, almost a smirk, pulled his lips, “you are braver than many men that i’ve met. fiery and passionate also. i do believe you’ll be quite the addition here.”

and while you raise an eyebrow to that, your heart settles as he ends it with one final thing, “you’ve earned my utmost respect.”

ᅠᅠ

—hideyoshi:

he would have been highly alerted in your presence—had it not been the fact that your eye was bruised and injured. it was fresh, the patch of skin having not turn purple or black yet, but it was enough to signal that it could be a fatal wound.

medics were sent your way by his command, and given the opportunity, he checked in on you frequently. the culprit of the attempted assassination was yet to be found—so he just assumed that you were a poor civilian caught in the crossfire.

you were rather crude to him, but he brushed it all off. you must’ve been some sort of stressed out after just saving his lord, so he gave you space and went to do other things.

it’s when they reconvene under nobunaga’s order did he find out about the decision for your fate.

“my lord, are you sure we should bring them back to azuchi? perhaps they have a place in a town around here.”

“—not really.” hideyoshi’s eyes filled with surprise and concern as a small response came out of you, with eyes looking away from everyone in the tent with lips bitten anxiously and brows stitched together.

so it ended on you going to azuchi along with them. because really, even if you didn’t want to, what were you to do? you had no place in the sengoku, and you’ve forgotten all about your scouts lessons back in middle school to survive in the forest.

and while you insist on working rather than just be royalty basically, hideyoshi is the one who persuades you to at least rest first. with a sigh, you agree.

from then on, you find him visiting you quite often between his breaks. most of the time, asking how you’ve been, making light conversations over tea, and sometimes fussing over the smallest things. it’s a gradual change you’ll get used to—from the failed assassination to the weird, home-y feeling he brings.

it didn’t take long for his curiosity to push him. one day, with the usual cup of tea, the silence passes for quite the moment until he spoke up, “if i may ask, where exactly,,, did you get that?”

he doesn’t quite point to it, but you know what he’s talking about. half your vision is covered now, from ieyasu’s work on trying to make it better. you stare in the cup, swishing the tea around, “. . .my town had, uhhh, ‘problems’.”

he listened intently as you reworded the current real life events. just change the cops to guard, the bullets to blunt sticks(?), etc. the core of it you kept the same, the discrimination, the unruly deaths and wounds of the innocent.

all the while, hideyoshi looks at you with slightly parted lips and eyes that spell a bit of disbelief. such compassion don’t exist in a lot of people—much less a majority of civillians from a town. he thought he’d’ve heard about it, but you did say it was quite the small one, far away.

as you finish your long explanation, your face was scrunched up in a scowl, remembering the scene at the time. the cops came, a highly dangerous situation; but you weren’t leaving just like that. not until you got hit by a bullet did you go back home—and look where you are now.

“—.” hideyoshi calls out your name, snapping you to reality. you dart your attention to him, his face filled with concern, worry—but also slight anger and a distant sense of fondness.

“. . .when nobunaga unites the country, we’ll be sure to aid you. we’ll stop them from hurting anyone else. so until then, please stay with us.”

the sentiment brought warmth to your heart, but you knew the truth. he wouldn’t be able to, the wormhole was a big separation in that. even so, you shook your head, “i don’t,,, uhh, think i can stay for that long.”

his brows stitch together in confusion, “and why is that?”

“. . .i want to go back as soon as i can. and—i only have one chance to do such a thing, and never again.” upon your answer, his eyes widened a bit. no further questions were asked about that, as your own expression said you didn’t want to talk about it.

“but—you could be in danger if you go back.”

“i don’t care.” the tea is cold as you set it down, “. . .i don’t wanna,,, just escape and turn a blind eye to it, i think. it may be safer for me here, but—i still want to help back there. whether or not i’m injured is,,, a means to an end, for me.”

that’s when every suspicion he could’ve had about you dissolved. the determination and righteousness that burned so brightly in your voice was irreplaceable. along with that, was a very deep respect for you. he serves nobunaga because he believed in equality among everyone, and it seems so do you. even if you’re willing to sacrifice yourself—to see a better world where everyone is happy.

a beat passes. two. with a sigh, hideyoshi’s hardened gaze relents back into the strange warmness, hid hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. “well, i don’t think i agree with you diving into potential danger, but just so you know. if you ever need help, you can always reach to us, alright?”

you breath out a chuckle, “. . .of course.”

ᅠᅠ

—mitsuhide:

your whole entire body was sore even before the wormhole sent you back. not to mention, just after that, you had to carry a full-armored man out of a burning building with someone trying to kill said man.

so to say you were disoriented was quite an understatement.

you didn’t even feel it until days have passed. and at this point, you’ve gone under mitsuhide’s tutoring. being sat down for a long time made it painfully obvious that your body was still healing—but you’ve sang this song a million times before. in which the soreness lingered for a while, and then it’d disappear. you can bear with it.

that is, until he started training you in battle.

the tanegashima practice was fine, if a bit triggering by the gunshots. but you saw it the same as archery. however, sparring on the other hand,,,

yeah. the first break you took, you already felt every single part of you reeling. mitsuhide wasn’t ruthless with you, but you figure he wasn’t being soft either.

in truth, prior to arriving in the sengoku period, your body had taken a hit in a protest. you didn’t get caught in the tear-gassing crossfire, or got shot by a rubber bullet. rather, a police car had arrived at the scene and begun to drive forward into the crowd. it didn’t become a car crash site, no deaths occurred to your knowledge (thankfully).

but you were one of the ones in the front row seats, you fell to the ground and took some damage in a number of places. they were more of inconveniences than anything.

still—forcing your body to fight a trained swordsman was not a good idea.

and the fox has an eye for these things, sensing when his enemies are weak. at least it proves to be a disadvantage if you really are dangerous. his eyes linger on you as you rub your sore spots with the occasional groan. 

“the little mouse seems to be wounded.” he says. it’s clear he’s trying to extract some kind of information about the person who just popped out one day, “pray tell, what might be the cause of such?”

“i got, uhhh,” you can’t say car, those don’t exist yet— “knocked down by a horse.” admittedly, a horse is probably more dangerous than a car—but you deal with what you have.

“is that so.” with the smile and narrowed eyes of his, you knew that he didn’t buy it. but to your defense, your state clearly proves it in some way—so he deduced that you weren’t telling the complete truth.

and he welcomes it. it’d be his absolute pleasure to unravel the mystery.

eventually, he does. in promise to keep your secret away from others, you keep his. 

“so, little mouse,” the night has yet to pass, but you wish it did. your stuff was spilled in front of you, all evidence of you coming from the future, “was that cover-up story about the horse a lie?”

it’s a rhetorical question; he knew the answer already. still, you roll your eyes, “of course, we rarely use those in the future. a police car hit a crowd, and i was caught in it.”

promptly realizing he doesn’t know anything, a lengthy explanation ensued.

“oh my. and you said this, ‘car’ drove into a crowd? that’s highly dangerous, is it not?”

“it is!” your calm words slowly dissolve, your hands now waving in gestures, “and guess what, it’s the cops that do it! uhh—guards in old terms, i guess. y’know the people who’re said to supposedly protect us? yeah, hit us with a car.”

mitsuhide isn’t the most curious about the future. but he is a bit confused about the context.

and so you continue, explaining everything. from the start, to where you were, along with what your thoughts are on the whole situation

through all that, he stays silent, not commenting until you were thoroughly finished. you can’t read his expression—so you stare at him, waiting for even a word.

suddenly, he smiles, “well, looks like our little mouse is quite the something, aren’t you?” before you could respond with anything, he pats you on the head with a strange sense of softness, “pureness and ideals like you are rare in this world.”

in truth, he agrees. he’s someone who’s faced discrimination head on from being in the lower class—and he fights for a world that his lord would like to see. even if he’ll remain in the dark, for his stained, dark hands would only corrupt the purity. at least, so he thinks.

you look back with pursed lips and a slight frown, “then i’ll help make it more common. if it results in people being treated as people, i’ll do it.”

you don’t hear it, but he draws in a sharp breath. his eyes are muddled—with what, you don’t know—but you drop the thought as he lifts the hand off of your head with a chuckle, “i will say, i didn’t quite expect this.” 

they say eyes are the window of the soul. while he had his closed most of the time—you managed to peek in a small bit of warmth and fondness in them.

ᅠᅠ

—masamune:

you came to the sengoku period with a sprained ankle. which, in a time where war was rampant, probably wasn’t a good thing to have. especially when you’re being dragged into battle just for the fun of it.

although you admit you made yourself seem tougher than you were (with you being used to injuries like this before, so you’ve grown used to gritting your teeth), you still curse masamune to hell and back. no, you do not care if you’re on a horse or just in camp, your foot hurt like shit either way.

naturally, you wouldn’t take that for long.

thus the next time he planned to take you along (you could already see the glint in his eye), you snapped at him. well—much less ‘snap’ and more of ‘telling him off rather harshly ft. a sprinkle of swearing’.

“listen, assfart, my ankle’s been killing me, and if i’m going by that analogy, you’re practically desecrating it’s corpse and grave. so for the love of god, stop dragging me into battles!”

an expression of surprise went on his face for a moment, before it morphed to his usual grin, “is that so? seems like out kitten likes to run around and ended up hurting themselves.”

“not my fault they shot me in the fuckin’ ankle. . .” you mutter without a second thought under your breath, which he, unfortunately, heard.

“they shot you, lass?”

seeing his ever so slightly widened eye, you pursed your lips, “yeah. nothing too serious.”

even so, you see the way his eyes narrow with a glint—more so of excitement than anything else, “still though lassie, with you being under nobunaga, i doubt they’ll get away with hurtin’ ya.”

“what does that mean?”

fingers comb through your hair in a wild pat, accompanied with a fanged grin, “they won’t be alive for hurtin’ the lord’s precious lucky charm.”

your lips pursed as a frown pulls upon your brows, “i don’t want them to get away solely for me being nobunaga’s ‘lucky charm’.”

“and why is that, kitten?”

his eyes slightly lit up at your hardened and serious aura as you closed your eyes with a sigh. “the same people who hurt me are the same ones who’ve hurt many others, on the basis that they believe they’re above them; over a stupid thing like race. and i won’t be just letting it slide, even if i can’t fight or anything.”

the flame in your eyes are ones that masamune has grown to recognize; the anger and bitterness as you look back on a memory, only to fill up your heart with passion.

“i’ll die if it means that they’ll be punished and everyone is treated the same.”

silence rings past, the wind slowly becomes a solid aura in the air. stunned, he leaves a small chuckle and pats your head,

“the lord made a wonderful decision to bring ya here, lass.”

—ieyasu:

going by his usual self, he didn’t care much when you arrived, other than you were someone nobunaga picked up from his failed assassination. however, him being an expert in things health related, some things didn’t go by with him.

first of all, your eyes were a slight fade of red. at first he figured it was a leftover from honno-ji’s smokes, but as the days tick by, its persistence is now rather worrying. they should’ve faded away by now, so he thought.

and it became more and more painfully obvious, at least to him. the way you rubbed your eyes sometimes, them tearing up at random intervals—and even you squinting at rare occasions that, unless you had an eye problem like mitsunari, shouldn’t be there.

a seed of worry was planted, although he never expressed it. after all, you were being dragged into battle, where dust and more smoke can easily go into your already bugged eyes.

therefore one day, wordlessly, he took you to his workplace. at first, you were confused; ieyasu hasn’t exactly talked to you a lot.

he picks up a small bottle, along with a cup-like lid, “use this, and wash your eyes with it. and by that i mean just tilt it up and blink when it goes into your eyes.”

you just blinked a few times, stunned more than anything. “,,,, why?”

“you think i don’t notice?” he scoffs, “you’ve been rubbing your eyes like crazy, and it’s past the point where your eyes should even be red since the honno-ji incident. either your eyes have been having problems way before, or you’re just dumber and clumsier than i thought.”

“hey! it’s not my fault, for any of the incidents!”

“so there are multiple instances?”

the judgemental look sent your way was something that your stubborn mind won’t back out from, even if it mean having to somewhat explain your situation.

“w, well, there have been several uhm.... arson crimes in my town, i can’t help but be in the vicinity.”

if arson crimes translated to tear gassings, yes, there were many.

“arson crimes? your town is,,, jeez.”

“it’s not the citizens’ fault, look to the fuckin’ guards of our village for that.” the tone had immediately shifted from a kind of flustered banter, to immediate bitter undertones.

immediately, the silence rang on. ieyasu sat there, looking into you as much as he could, with his bare bones knowledge of you. the pieces were there, and it wasn’t hard to put them together. for a moment, he wondered if you were more than the unfortunate one to be pulled into this mess. but if your town was as much a mess as that. . . perhaps it was for the better.

“. . .then you’re planning to stay here, right?” he had his own opinions and thoughts of someone taking advantage of a high-powered lord taking them in, but eh, he thinks, people will do what they have to do to survive—

“not really. assuming nobunaga would even let me go in the first place.”

ieyasu stood there, stunned, “. . .you’re planning to go back to your own town? even from all the danger there?”

“yeah.” you look at him with a slight imbalanced expression, “i don’t have anywhere else to go, other than there, so. . .”

“but why not stay here? it’s safer, you do know that right?”

“of course,” you sigh, “but it’s still my home, all things considered. yeah, there’s a whole lot of corrupt things going on but, they’re still humans, the people i live with. i don’t wanna run away from it, i’d just. . .i’d like to try and help them also.:

ieyasu stays silent as you lean back to the wall, looking out the door with a fond and melancholic gaze, “the,,, guards in my town are doing this just cause of their stupid beliefs and whatever. superiority complex and whatnot. and people are dying because of it, only for things that they can’t control and. . . it’s just so bullshit.”

you turn back to him, with a strong light blaring in your eyes; filled with hope and determination, “wouldn’t you want to go back and help them? even if i get injured, as long as people will be treated the same and won’t face death for something miniscule, i consider it worth it.”

you’ve never seen him surprised at you; at least not in this sense. usually it’d be surprise at some mistake you did, making an offhand crude comment to it but here. . .here it’s partnered with the smallest bit of sparkle. like a hidden respect for you behind his uncaring persona.

you only look as he slowly stands up, his shadow befalling on you. with the same, yet subtle, amount of shine in his eyes as in yours, he sighs softly and takes your hand,

“at least if you’re gonna go into that kind of battlefield, let me teach your ditzy self how to take care of injuries first.”

—mitsunari:

your sudden arrival already aroused questions, as you’d appeared before nobunaga sporting a bloodied cut on your cheek. at the time, they took the assumption that the assassin did it to you.

and although it was fussed for a bit, it was quickly covered up with some cloth fitting for the period. and then, everything went as normal.

taking up job as mitsunari’s personal caretaker wasn’t one you’d reject, because really, how bad could it be? but the man himself kept insisting that you don’t, added that not only were you a special charm of nobunaga’s, you were also injured from the night of honno-ji. he couldn’t do that to you; not after such a stressful night.

and yet you were stubborn as well. with the final decision being up to nobunaga, which you accepted wholeheartedly, of course, you now had the role to take care of mitsunari.

although his. . .clumsy nature was one that you should be worried for, you find it that he often checks up on you, apologizing each time he could’ve potentially hurt you. and each time, you waved it off and assured him that yes, you were fine.

but you can see it in his eyes, the tint of guilt and worry that lingers on before he succumbs to his reading trance. truth is, the injury is just a mild inconvinience of pain, so there really wasn’t much to fuss over.

in his eyes, your degree has gotten much higher than before. whether your wound would’ve affected your job didn’t matter to him; it was the fact that you were hurt in the first place. you shouldn’t have to take care of him when you needed to take care of yourself! or so is what he thinks to himself.

and so he tries to make it up to you. you need reading lessons? he’ll try to squeeze it in his schedule! or maybe it’s time for a break, he’ll tour you around in the bustling city of azuchi. it feels like whenever you need something, he’s always there next to you, and you can’t help but feel charmed by it.

mitsunari isn’t one to notice details about a person if it isn’t in a situation like in battle. but he’s gotten very sharp at seeing the slight reactions and how you’re doing; and here’s what he’s picked up on:

other than the wound on your cheek, your stomach area seems to be bruised or something close to that. you might’ve not told anyone about it, cause he hasn’t heard a peep of that anywhere, not even when he kept asking politely (or bugging, in the man’s eyes) for ieyasu’s information.

so fuck it, he just decides to ask you one day.

“why do you have an injury on your stomach area?”

it was a lesson hour, you didn’t expect him to throw,,,that curveball. maybe more of, what does this character mean? or how do you write this word? but. . .

“uhm—an incident that happened before the whole honno-ji thing.”

“and you never told anyone, even lord ieyasu?”

“n, no, kinda.”

he’s serious than before, and yet there’s something in his eyes that’s very inviting, inviting you to tell your feelings and story, inviting you to a hug of warmth and safety.

and you succumb.

“. . . things have been happening in my town before i came here.” then what was once a lesson sessioin, turned into you explaining what you and the world was going through before coming to the sengoku, with many phrasings replaced of course.

“is that so. . .” he mutters, “i haven’t heard a case like this, although i don’t doubt there aren’t any. . .i should do some reasearches.. .”

“i-it’s fine, really. . .!”

you managed to convince him that it’s fiiine, he shouldn’t read up on it and just focus on his works (since it would render your story false pretty quickly,,).

“but you still haven’t explained how you got the injury.”

“oh yeah. i got kicked down by one of the guards and then i got this as a result.” you pointed at the covered up wound, now probably just a scar, on your cheek. mitsunari goes silent, then a slow and silent hum resonates in him.

you’ve never quite seen the look in his eyes as you did. they were sharper, even if you weren’t situated in a battlefield, and you could see the gears turn in his brain. for what, you’re not quite sure.

“mitsu,,,?”

and with just your voice, his clouded eyes clear up, and he sends his angelic smile your way, “it’s fine now, lady—” his voice rings gently like bells, “you’re now safer. .even if you want to go back there. but i’ll be here by your side to protect you always, so please remember.”

“. . .heh, alright. of course i will.”

[momentofmemory]

FICTOBER 2020 - day thirty-one

Prompt #31: “I trust you.”

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall.

Words: 2218

Author’s Note: an underappreciated aspect of chess culture? games played for fun are called Skittles. set post 5B, Scott & Stiles take a break to play a game of chess, and wind up talking about a whole lot more than just a game. Gen fic, Scott & Stiles focus. Stiles POV.

>> j’adoube (i adjust)

Stiles tosses his pen in the air. Watches it flip, twice. Catches it, barely. Toss and repeat.

“Hey, Scott.”

Scott, who’s sitting across from him at the desk, just grunts without looking up. They’ve been going over scholarships together for the past three hours, and it’s the most mind-numbing use of a Saturday Stiles has had in a very long time.

Which, considering most of his Saturdays have been more of the terrifyingly bloody variety, is probably still preferable. But still.

“Scoooooooott.”

Scott flips to the next page. “Mm?”

Stiles throws his pen at him and smacks him squarely across the face.

“Ow, Stiles—what?”

Stiles flips over onto his stomach, triumphant to have finally gotten Scott’s full attention. “You wanna play a game?”

Scott puts his own pen down and leans back in the chair, stretching and popping in a way that suggests being hunched over for that long is unpleasant for even a werewolf. “What kind? Board game?”

Stiles grins.

Board games, to his mind, are sacrosanct.

Not necessarily because he loves them—given a free range of choices, he’d rather do just about anything else—but because it’s so easy for them to suck.

Yahtzee, Monopoly, Shoots and Ladders, Candy Land, Sorry, even Risk—there’s just too much luck involved for his taste. Draw randomized but predetermined cards, roll uncontrollable dice. And that’s not even touching the disaster that’s Life, where the only two choices that ever matter are college or career, kids or no kids.

Absolutely nothing about bite or no bite, or possession or no possession.

Or ‘betrayed by a monster that gets your best friend killed and your crush of five years committed to an asylum,’ but.

Either way, it’s a joke.

There are better board games. Clue or Scrabble, which still rely on the hand that’s dealt, but at least can be salvaged with enough knowledge and strategy.

But he has the best one in mind for today.

“Chess?”

Scott’s eyes light up with a competitive glint Stiles feels like he hasn’t seen in ages, and he knows he’s won.

“I could do a round or two,” Scott says.

“Oh, thank god—”

“But, then we have to get back to work on these.”

“Yep, uh-huh, absolutely,” Stiles says, rolling off the bed and hunting underneath it for his set.

He fully intends to bribe Scott into playing way more than that, but one thing at a time.

His fingers close over the wooden case and he draws it out, blowing a bit of dust off the top. He turns it over in his hands.

If board games are sacrosanct, then chess is the holy grail.

Most people don’t get the attraction, and he respects that. It takes a certain level of concentration to be good at chess, and considering how many strategy books he’s read on the topic—even if he rarely remembers them—he can beat a casual player without too much effort. Plus, most people prefer games that don’t require much thought, perfectly wiling to just roll their dice and move their mice.

Stiles respects that a lot less.

What he likes about chess is that it’s the one game that’s completely and totally winnable every time—with no variation from chance or random dealing. He might be outmatched, but he’s not outnumbered.

Every choice he makes is fully his own.

It’s the best game.

The only marginal difference is that white has a slight advantage, as it gets to go first, so as Stiles tosses the set onto the bed he says, “I can be black this time.”

Scott barely glances up from the scholarship he’s still worrying himself over. “Hm? No, that’s okay, I don’t mind. You can take white.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and flops onto the bed. “You’ve been black the past like, eight times we’ve played. You’re white this time.”

“Stiles, I really don’t care if you want it.”

It’s an innocuous statement, but Stiles’ temper flares because all he can hear is that Scott thinks he needs the advantage—even if it’s one that, statistically, barely even matters. “What, because you don’t think I can beat you otherwise?”

“What? No, Stiles, I—” Scott falls silent, and it’s enough to instantly cool Stiles’ frustration. “I just—never mind. I can be white.”

Stiles hesitates for a few beats, then turns the board and starts setting the pieces up so the white ones are facing Scott.

He pauses. He’s been trying to pay more attention to Scott lately, but it’s hard—Scott tends to fold pretty quickly on smaller issues, and he tends to—

Well.

Not.

“Then again,” he tries, “I guess it doesn’t really matter—”

“You asked me to play white, so I’ll play white.” Scott’s voice is flat. “You were right; we haven’t switched it up in a while, so it’s only fair. Just give me a sec to finish this.”

“…Okay.”

Stiles toys with the edge of the board as he waits for Scott to finish restacking the papers.

One of the reasons Stiles likes chess is because it makes for a surprisingly good Rorschach test, and he’s played it with every member of the pack at some point or another.

Liam’s not much of a challenge, mostly because he’s made it clear he doesn’t care. The one time they played, he’d started strong—aiming to capture more than aiming to secure—but his failure to consider long-term strategy had gotten him into trouble almost immediately. With Malia, she has a good concept of how to control the center of the board, and favors trap-based strategy, but her ability to pay attention to her opponent’s gameplay is usually her downfall. Lydia tends to focus on a bishop and pawn strategy, which works very well for her mostly because it infuriates Stiles—his own strategy relies heavily on a more spontaneous approach to movement, and her method thoroughly demarcates most of the board. That’s probably why he enjoys playing with Kira, whose strategy rotates every time they play—as soon as he’d introduced her to the game, she’d started binging chess tutorials at speeds that put his own research to shame.

He hasn’t had the chance to play with the new pack members, but he has his guesses as to how that will go. Mason will play circles around him, but be super nice about it. Hayden will either trounce him thoroughly if she cares, or lose terribly if she doesn’t, and there will be nothing in between. Corey… Corey will probably favor the knights, which will make him hard to beat on the front end, but almost impossible to lose to in the endgame.

But he can work with that. All of those strategies make sense; make it easier for him to understand and categorize them.

He looks down at the white and black pieces, standing silently in anticipation of the match.

He can’t think of any reason Scott would want to reject the advantage, unless it was just for his benefit, but he hadn’t appeared to be lying.

And now Scott probably won’t tell him because he’d snapped at him instead of just asking.

Stiles winces and rakes his hands through his hair.

It’s just a chess preference. It’s not like it matters.

Except it does, because everything between them feels so fragile after Theo.

Stiles’ thoughts are interrupted when Scott vaults onto the bed, accidentally knocking one of the pawns forward as the board lists to the side.

“Whoops,” Scott says. The tiniest of smirks appears on his face as he moves to fix it. “J’adoube.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to announce that that’s not your move when I can clearly see what just happened.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Scott says, adjusting the piece. “You’ve definitely called me out for less in the past.”

“You tried to change your mind after wrapping your whole hand around a bishop! How is that less?”

Scott shrugs, and Stiles is relieved he doesn’t seem to be bothered about the pieces anymore. “I’m just saying. Can’t be too careful.”

“A mindset I would normally endorse wholeheartedly, however.”

Scott laughs, then settles in cross-legged and stares down at the board, elbows resting on his knees and face furrowed in contemplation.

Stiles glances at Scott, then at board, then back at Scott again.

Scott doesn’t move.

Suddenly, it’s really bothering Stiles that despite having played with him more than anyone else, despite knowing him better than anyone else, Stiles still doesn’t understand why Scott plays the way he does.

It’s not that Scott’s exceptionally bad, or that Scott’s exceptionally good. It’s that he’s both.

When he plays with Stiles, he matches him step for step, pivoting his goals almost as quickly as Stiles does. But the few times Stiles’ seen Scott play with others, that ability seems to vanish—his level of competence almost directly mapped onto the level of the person he’s playing with, above or below where Stiles would expect it.

It doesn’t make sense, but that’s just Scott. Stiles had long since acknowledged that there were always going to be some things that didn’t make sense about his best friend.

That was before Theo. Before everything that was Scott & Stiles fell apart.

And also, Scott still hasn’t moved.

“Hey Scott?” Stiles waits until he glances up at him, chin still resting in his hands. “You gonna go, bud?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. He blinks down at the board. “There’s just… a lot of options.”

“Okay, right, that’s true,” Stiles says. “But it’s also just the first move.”

“Yeah.”

Scott reaches out and touches the pawn from before. He hovers there for a moment, then retracts his hand—the pawn still unmoved.

Stiles clears his throat.

“Really? You want me to—” Scott sighs. “J’adoube.”

“Technically, you’re supposed to say that before you touch it.”

“And technically, you said I didn’t have to say it earlier, so that one could count for the one I just did.”

“Bro,” Stiles says, because this is getting ridiculous. “Literally just move the pawn. Or a knight. Or any of the other pawns. There are zero other options.”

“I know, I know,” Scott says. “I just… what if I move this piece, and then you move like your knight or something, and it turns out I made the wrong move?”

Stiles squints at him. “It’s your move. Why would my move, which comes afterward, make yours wrong?”

“Because I have to stop your plan.”

“Right, but like.” Stiles tilts his head. “What about your plan?”

“That is my plan.”

Stiles’ brain short circuits, and he spins rapidly through every game he’s ever watched Scott play. “So—so wait. You mean every time you’re playing you’re just… trying to figure out your opponent’s plan? You’re not making one of your own?”

“I mean, kinda?” Scott reaches for the pawn again, then pauses before touching it. “J’adoube.”

“Yeah, whatever, just move the pawn,” Stiles says. “So earlier, it wasn’t about wanting me to have an advantage; you wanted black because… it’s to your advantage?”

Scott spins the pawn around in a slow circle, then lets go of it without moving its position. Again.

“I guess,” he says. “You like playing white better and I like black better, so it just… makes more sense to let us play the ones we actually prefer.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

Scott shrugs. “It just seemed like it was important to you, and I… I didn’t want to argue.” His eyes drop, and so does his voice. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”

Something clicks in Stiles’ mind. “J’adoube.”

“Uh,” Scott looks pointedly at the pieces, which are still unmoved, and his hands, which aren’t anywhere near them. “What?”

“‘I adjust,’” Stiles says. “That’s what you’ve been doing. Adjusting your plan to match mine, or—or anyone else.”

Scott picks at the edge of his sleeve. “And that’s bad?”

“Um.” Stiles hasn’t gotten that far. “No? I mean like, you’re clearly very good at it. You’ve definitely beat me enough times doing it.”

“I sense a ‘but.’”

“See, there you go, anticipating me again. You’re a pro.”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay, the point.” Stiles glances down at the chessboard—and then at the pile of scholarships, too. “Look, I’m just saying you gotta just take the shot sometimes. Or move the pawn. Whatever. My point is, it’s okay to make your own plans.”

Scott shifts a bit to look behind him at the paperwork, something both worried and hopeful in his expression.

“And then, y’know,” Stiles continues, “you can always adjust them later if you have to. But you don’t have to start out that way.”

Scott picks up the pawn and turns it about in his fingers. He bites his lip. “And… you trust this to work?”

“Nah, man.” Stiles settles back against the wall and nods towards the board. “It’s the first move; I have no idea how it’ll play out. But… I trust you enough to know that you can handle it if it doesn’t.”

Scott’s eyes get suspiciously bright, but Stiles doesn’t comment. “I trust you, too.”

(And, well.)

(If Stiles’ eyes get a little bright too, no one comments on that either.)

Scott moves the pawn to e4, and lets it go.

[bigskydreaming]

With the meta gen thing in the young justice season 3, i started to wonder, which power would each batfam member have?

Okay, so Dick’s is a bit of a cliche, perhaps, and I’m not the first person to think of this for him, its just….its necessary, lol, as nothing else even comes close to being as good a match. So for him, gravity powers….able to make himself lighter than air and thus massively boost the height and distance of his leaps or just float in the air, reorient himself so he can walk straight up walls or upside down on ceilings, multiply his own mass so his punches or kicks do ten times the damage, toss out out gravity grenades or pulses that wipe out the gravity in an area and make everything weightless, unanchored and floating, unable to find any kind of footing anywhere, or perhaps the opposite, tossing out gravity pulses that intensify the gravity in an area, weigh everything down until its impossible to move.

Jason’s power would be something he calls blowback, or maybe a ‘damage bounce.’ Basically an extremely localized reality warp which causes the actual harm or damage caused by someone that’s fighting him or fighting someone nearby him, to be shifted back onto the instigator. So shoot him…you end up the one shot. Beat up someone in his field of view, and all the damage you would otherwise be inflicting on that person ends up displaced onto you. Etc, etc.

Tim’s power is to make leaps forward and back along his own individual timeline. Its not true time travel, he can’t change events that have happened or anything like that, its more like he can at any given moment swap himself out with another version of himself that exists at a different moment in time. So he can kind of shapeshift in a limited, unexpected way…by swapping his current self out with an older version of him from much further along his personal timeline…..with most people unlikely to recognize him with an extra ten to twenty years added to the age and appearance they expect him to have. Or he can heal quickly in a combat situation…by changing places with an uninjured version of himself. And so on and so on.

Cassandra’s power is to piggy-back on the senses of anyone she’s close enough to, effectively letting her see and hear anything they do. She’s not really a telepath despite it involving a psychic component… essentially her power lets her overlay her own mind and senses on top of someone else’s, so from her POV she’s basically seeing through their eyes….but its purely about increasing or adding vantage points for her….she can’t read the thoughts of whomever’s senses she’s sharing, nor can she influence them………..though she can still read body language via someone else’s borrowed senses, just as easily as with her own. She’s begun experimenting with the possibility of reversing the feedback loop….letting someone see through her eyes instead, as a kind of destabilization technique, rendering an opponent temporarily wtf-y, or like, to loop her siblings in on the same intel page, etc.

Damian’s power is switch teleportation. Like castling in a game of chess…he can effectively teleport anywhere within his field of vision….but only by exchanging places with something or someone at the end point he’s aiming for. Used strategically though, this power is as much a tactical advantage as it is a means of transportation or a quick getaway.  It affords  him a variety of ways to end up inside a location he’s trying to infiltrate even while simultaneously leaving the guard locked out on the wrong side of the door he’s meant to be guarding….he can sow enormous confusion with this in combat, randomly switching his way through a crowd of enemies all trying to cut him down and just ending up doing more damage to their own allies instead….and by combining it with his grappling hook and the right timing, he can launch himself off rooftops and halfway down, just lock eyes with someone like Bane, standing at the roof’s edge far above him….and now the one falling in his place, moments later, instead,.

Stephanie’s power is something she calls her spoiler punch (haymaker, uppercut, anything else along those lines). She’s not a precog herself, capable of seeing her own future, but via skin to skin contact, she can deliver a vision of anyone’s future to them. She has no control over what they see, and only gets the vaguest glimpse of it herself, via a kind of psychic echo - and its not always set in stone. Some of the visions end up coming true, some are averted, some accidentally end up fulfilled by attempting to avert it. However, the visions are always intense, a shock to the person’s system, so as a Hail Mary measure, just slipping off a glove and punching an opponent bare fist to bare cheek can give her all the distraction and advantage she needs, at the very least….and in some cases, such a punch isn’t merely distracting to them, but downright demoralizing.

Duke’s power is essentially just one aspect of his canon power….just pushed further. Instead of his ghost vision, here his power is just the amplifying aura he manifests, that boosts the powers of other metas nearby. Except in this version of it, that amplifying aura isn’t just limited to boosting meta powers….he can focus and channel it to amplify any energy source near him at all. Amping up the ambient light in the atmosphere to create blinding flashes as a diversion…..amping sound waves so a carefully and deliberately boosted snap of the fingers can rattle walls and shatter windows. Boosting temperatures so the heat generated by friction in just the right time and place ends up sparking an actual fire, or just boosting the electrical impulses firing off in a person’s nervous system as just part of its regular synaptic activity….now amped up enough to cause a surge those synapses weren’t prepared for and overloading a person’s nervous system, just enough to knock them out.

And last but not least, since I’m still stumped on something for Bruce….Barbara’s power would be a kind of telekinetic programming. Broad spectrum telekinesis that can perform any number of feats….but that rather than exercise it consciously, like Jean Grey or other telekinetic superheroes are most known for doing….Babs’ telekinesis is run by her subconscious, even as her conscious mind focuses on her hacking and information gathering as Oracle. Essentially, Babs writes ‘code’ for her telekinesis….programming various activities, feats and routines for her telekinesis to accomplish….while her telekinetic programs are being run and enacted by just her own subconscious mind. 

This way, Barbara is able to devote her conscious attention to her duties and routines as Oracle, the same as she typically does at various points in canon…..while at the exact same time, in the background of the Clocktower, her telekinesis is going through the motions of conducting various investigations all at the same time and without any requiring her conscious oversight. Her ‘pre-programmed’ directives and the code she’d written for her own psychic powers to use as its operating system, are more than capable of handling various minutiae and the physical activity portion of sorting through the piles of evidence and categorizing it properly, etc. 

And thus even while busy as Oracle, Babs can have all of that happening behind her, with her subconscious and her telekinetic powers basically acting in concert as though her Clocktower is a fully staffed and busy precinct, as active as any actual precinct might appear….with just the difference that this particular ‘precinct’s hustle and bustle was the work not of actual manpower, but rather, more like an army of invisible, intangible robots dutifully fulfilling her objectives…..orchestrated by nothing other than the machinery of her subconscious mind, and the psychic powers she’d programmed to need nothing more than that in order to accomplish whatever tasks she set for them to accomplish.

[fangirl-ramblings]

Ooh! I love the prompts 😍 I can't wait to see everything you're going to do!! How about misc 1 with Javier, gen-neutral or fem reader (up to you!), please? 💕

Misc #1: “Have you been crying?” 

Pairing: Javier Escuella x gender-neutral reader

Word Count: 936

Notes: Angst that turns into fluff

Eeeek - I’m so nervous excited to write for you. I hope I’ve done it justice 😘💖

~* Prompt List | Tumblr Masterlist | AO3 *~

Finding a quiet spot in camp was never easy, but the area behind Javier & Charles’s tent was always peaceful enough. You sat yourself down, dangling your feet over the cliff edge as you let your mind wander.

How had you fell in with this group of outlaws? Only a few months ago you were still living at home, surrounded by your family, but now you had no idea where they were. That’s if they had survived of course.

Thinking back on that night you felt the sadness well up inside & a stream of tears beginning to fall down your face. Suddenly distracted by the sound of the other camp members beginning to wake up & start their daily routine, you quickly wiped your eyes & tried to shake the unpleasant thoughts from your head, choosing instead to focus on beautiful landscape in front of you.

Of course, there were worse places you could have ended up; laying dead in the middle of Valentine’s mud soaked main street was very nearly a reality after you had once again drunk far too much & decided to start a fight with some random guy. He had quickly drew his revolver, taking aim at you causing you to freeze in terror at the thought that this could be it for you. Luckily, another man had came out of nowhere to “accidentally” knock into first one before he had chance to fire that fatal shot between your eyes, and all that you could do in your drunken stupor was stand and watch as a small scuffle broke out between them two instead.

It seemed like a hazy dream at the time, but you distinctly recall seeing the smaller man pull his knife out and ask your would be assassin “quieres que te corte la garganta cabron? Vamos!” Neither you or the first guy knew what was actually being said, but you both understood the threatening tone behind it. This had caused the bigger man to run off in the direction of the sheriffs office, while your hero walked over to greet you and check that you were okay.

He introduced himself as Javier & asked for your own name before kindly offering you a ride out of town. It was just as well he did as you couldn’t for the life of you remember where you’d hitched your mount. It also didn’t help that at this very moment Sheriff Malloy had appeared at the top of the street demanding to know who was disturbing the peace in his town. As Javier helped you on to his American Paint, he asked if you were staying nearby, or if there was anywhere he could take you to. You shook your head telling him “I have nowhere & nobody”. He simply nodded sympathetically whilst kicking his horse into action, disappearing in the opposite direction to the Sheriff’s booming voice.

Attempting to make small talk on the journey, he explained to you that he and his friends could provide you with a place to keep your head down for a while. They were based in an area known as Horseshoe Overlook, which was only a short ride away and that you’d be welcome to stay as long as you needed to.

He was right about it not being far away and you had soon arrived at the enclosed site which housed several tents. Dismounting from the horse that you had heard Javier call Boaz, you were met with many bemused expressions from his fellow camp mates, yet the one thing that struck you most was the warmness of these strangers who all seemed to be some kind of lost soul like yourself.

Over the next few weeks, most of the people there had treated you kindly, but you couldn’t help but feel a special bond with your saviour Javier. You’d often stay up into the small hours, usually fighting your tiredness, to listen intently as he entertained the camp with songs sung in his native tongue. And you were more than honoured whenever he asked you to go a fishing trips to a nearby quiet spot along the Dakota River.

It was here you both opened more to each over. He learnt parts of your history & he responded by telling you of his childhood in Mexico. It was on these trips that, slowly over time, you both realised that you had developed feelings for each other and soon the fishing was forgotten about, replaced by stolen moments of just enjoying each others company away from the hustle and bustle of camp

🎵🎻🎵🎻

You were brought out of your memories by the sound of a gentle melody coming from nearby. You turned your head to see your beloved Javier sitting with his eyes closed strumming his guitar. Lifting yourself up, you made your way over and gladly sat next on the ground next to him. Feeling your presence nearby, he simply smiled to himself and whispered “You looked so peaceful sitting there. I didn’t want to disturb you, but I thought you might like some company.” Slowly opening his eyes to look at you, he abruptly stopped playing and took your hands into his own. “Carino? Que de pasa?” he asked with concern, wiping your tear stained cheeks “Have you been crying?”

“I was just a bit homesick.” you admitted, leaning your head into the palm of his hand ”But I’ve realised something. My home is here now – with you” He softly kissed your forehead, wrapping an arm around your waist, as you rested your head on his shoulder

Translations:

“As long as we have each other, that’s all we need” he whispered.

Quieres que te corte la garganta cabron?= Do you want me to cut your throat open bastard?

Vamos – Get gone

Carino? Que de pasa?” = Darling? What’s wrong?

[tren-fraszka]

Past Imperfect 2019 Letter

Dear creator,

Thank you for taking your time to check my requests. I know my requests can sound a bit tricky, but please don’t be discouraged. I wish you will have good time writing first and foremost!

My AO3 is Tren, if you wish to check it out.

Likes: comedy, casefics, canon compliants, AUs, time loops, bodyswaps, roleswaps, “being hoisted by your own petard” plotlines, snark, pettiness, rivals, enemies to friends to lovers, violence, friendships and character bonding,

DNW: explicit sex, A/B/O, mpreg, rape depicted as positive (so no “it’s okay, because the other person enjoyed it/it was what they truly wanted”), trans headcanons, soulmate AUs, stories ending with surrender to fate/destiny, fourth wall breaking in canons where that doesn’t occur, character has cancer or other real life terminal disease AU, word “queerplatonic”.

Also, I included what ships I’m okay with in each fandom. Please do not include any ships that aren’t canon and I have not allowed in those sections (if you feel really strongly about a ship I haven’t mentioned, you can always ask through mods just in case).

Additionally, while I almost never request fanart as possible medium, because I prefer my main gift to be fic, I would be very okay with receiving fanart treats. On another note, feel free to use my old letters if you get your hands on them. I never stop being interested in fandoms, and if I requested something once I will still want it in the future.

                                               REQUESTS

A general note on time travel: feel free to get bloody if you want. Aside from Revue Starlight which isn’t a violent show by nature, I don’t mind characters dying and getting hurt during the attempts to change the timeline. I also don’t mind characters not succeeding in their attempted goals, as long as the fic doesn’t have a complete downer ending. I’d rather the heroes won at the end of the day, but I don’t mind if you make it a bitter victory. Good endings are, of course, fine too. I also love the trope where the attempt to change the events through time travel results in the canon timeline.

TALES OF SYMPHONIA 

Lloyd Irving, Lloyd Irving & Kratos Aurion

This party gets so many things wrong on their journey to save the world that almost half of it is in ruins when they are done saving it. Needlessly to say I think there is a whole lot that our party may want to fix using time travel.

I'm partial to the idea of time traveller Lloyd because he would be so terrible at it. He's just so earnest he would accidentally reveal he has a whole lot of knowledge he shouldn't possess. Give me future Lloyd who returns to the body of his younger self who has only just started on his journey of regeneration and who keeps struggling not to call Kratos dad. Or future Lloyd returning to the past with his own body, who is desperately trying to stay incognito and fix the timeline rather than accidentally breaking it even more (bonus points if future Genis and Yuan have some sort of magical connection with him and are constantly screaming at him about what he should and shouldn't do). I would also love future Lloyd pretending before the party that he is just a mysterious swordsman by emulating Kratos.

I'm also fine with other characters travelling in time, I just don't have concrete prompts for them. But you are free to have fun with them. I'd rather the Kharlan Heroes weren't the ones time travelling since their charm is in the fact that they are absolute dumbasses who keep failing to account for the consequences of their actions (aside from Kratos who spends way too much time being apathetic, only to regret absolutely everything when he does manage to pull himself out of his depression), but if you have some good ideas for how they can fail even more by time travelling I won't mind (maybe they can accidentally get into way of some other time travelling characters). I just want them to keep being ancient disasters. If they suddenly became competent enough to fix the timeline it would feel weird. Unless it's Martel who somehow time traveled into the future and proceeds to fix everything by slapping all other Kharlan Heroes and telling them they are idiots.

As for how much the timeline is fixed, I would prefer for Yggdrassil to get defeated and the worlds to be merged at the end, but if the characters' efforts don't amount much to actually making things better than the original timeline, I won't mind. You are even free to make them fail even more. Honestly, stopping Kratos from gallivanting into space is the only fix-it that actually matters to me and I would love if it gets included into the story. 

Also, you are free to go for some darker moments with Lloyd time travelling back to when his mom died and trying to save her, but failing to do so.

As for the ships, I'm fine with: Lloyd/Genis, Genis/Presea, Lloyd/Genis/Presea, Zelos/Colette, Colette/Sheena, Zelos/Colette/Sheena, Anna/Kratos, Yuan/Martel, Kratos/Yuan (as "useless widowers who only have each other left" ship). Please don't include any ships not listed here, even if they are 2/3 of a threesome.

Time Loop/Groundhog Day

Time Travel Fix-It

Mental Time Travel to Past - Replacing Past Self

Mental Time Travel to Past - Sharing Body With Past Self

Time Travel Fix-It - Time Traveler Fixes Things By Accident

Uncontrollable Spontaneous Time Travel

Time Travel to Fix Problems Caused By Previous Time Travel

Multiple Travelers - Get In Each Other’s Way While Trying To Achieve Different Goals

SHOUJO KAGEKI REVUE STARLIGHT (ANIME)

Yes, I really am okay with any characters from this show. I love all girls in this theater school, so I'd rather you focused on the ones you enjoy the most, dear author. I admit I just want more shenanigans around Banana's time loop. Give me all more or less successful attempts to break out of it. Maybe Maya becomes aware of the time loop and starts to view Nana as a rival much to Claudine's frustration. Or Kaoruko's increasing frustration with the fact that she's the only one who remembers time loops other than Nana finally spurs her to put effort into bettering herself. Or maybe Giraffee's POV as it gets increasingly frustrated with the repeating performances and tries different indirect approaches in hopes of stopping Nana. Feel free to use any other idea you have, I'm just interested to see your ideas!

I'm playing Re-live game so you are free to borrow characters and ideas from it. Maybe rather than Hikari it's some other stage girl that comes to Seisho and gets caught in the time loop? Or one of the characters travels into the future and they end up having three days to learn for their role, because they don't share memories with their future self. 

You are free to ship any girls from the anime as you like. My only request would be that if you decide to borrow Michiru from Re-Live that she will not be shipped with anyone.

Breaking a canonical time loop

Canonical Time Loops

Time Loop/Groundhog Day

Multiple Travelers - Accidentally Get In Each Other’s Way While Trying To Achieve The Same Goal

Multiple Travelers - Get In Each Other’s Way While Trying To Achieve Different Goals

Time Loop - Unexpectedly Living With The Consequences Of Actions During Final Loop

Time Travel For Pranks And Petty Mischief

Trying to not break a canonical time loop

5 Minute Long Time Loop

Outsider POV Of Strange Events Caused By Time Travel

LORD EL-MELLOI CASE FILES

I’ve watched anime and read the first volume of the novel. I also know way too many other Fate properties if you want to use them or the characters from them.

Waver Velvet, Gray

This canon is perfect for all sorts of magic induced time travel shenanigans be it time loops or time travels. I would love for Waver and others to stumble into some sort of time distortion and have to figure out how to escape out of it.

I requested Waver and Gray, because I feel like they would be the most interesting characters to be involved in time travel shenanigans, but if you want, I also wouldn't be opposed to Flat, Reines or Callum in that role. You may make the situation as serious or as mundane as you wish. This fandom is great for all kinds of stories. Whether it be Gray caught up in a time loop that always ends up with Waver ending miserable and trying to change that, or Waver having to watch death of people important to him. 

The loop could be caused by magical accident or be a ploy aimed to Reines faction. Or maybe Flat created a time loop because he couldn't finish his homework on time. Or someone from Waver's class brought a cursed artifact to the class and now they need to figure out who it was. The possibilities are endless. I also think that a character from the future using magecraft to communicate with those in the past could work really well here. 

If you know Zero, then I would also be very much up for Gray travelling back in time to see the fourth Holy Grail war. Whether she changes anything, or if she remains a bystander by accident or choice isn't really important to me. I'm fine with both. Though I think it would be really sweet if she got to comfort Waver after Iskander's death.

I love this fandom for all the gen relationships, so I would love if you went in that direction. When it comes to pairings I would be okay with Waver/Melvin or Reines/Gray, but don't feel forced to write them in.

Time Loop/Groundhog Day

Time Loop - Unexpectedly Living With The Consequences Of Actions During Final Loop

Time Loop - Only looping character is aware of the loop

Time Travel For Pranks And Petty Mischief

Unusual Ways To Communicate Through Time

Accidentally Built A Time Machine

Uncontrollable Spontaneous Time Travel

5 Minute Long Time Loop

Meeting your hero in the past

Multiple Travelers - Accidentally Get In Each Other’s Way While Trying To Achieve The Same Goal

Parallel Universes

Outsider POV Of Strange Events Caused By Time Travel

MY HERO ACADEMIA 

I'm reading the chapters as they come out, you are free to incorporate any new developments.

Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Uraraka Ochako, Tokoyami Fumikage

Unlike other canons I requested, for this one I have a very strong preference for one of the characters I requested to be the time traveller. I love most of the cast, but this is one time I'm gonna play favourites.

This canon is great for characters going back in time to fix stuff with everybody having heroic motivations. How well their attempts go is up to you. Feel free to put the characters through some hell if you want. 

Since I would enjoy similar scenarios for all characters I feel like it would be more helpful if I focused on the reason why I chose this specific characters:

- Uraraka - one of her biggest strengths is her ability to read and influence others. It would be interesting to see her change the events using her talents. She's not very powerful and charismatic compared to some of her classmates, but she has plenty of tricks of her own to use instead. Also, she has determination to spare.

- Tokoyami - I love him and Dark Shadow. It would be very interesting to see how the loyal and hard working Fumikage deals with suddenly being thrown into the past. He would surely want to help his friends, but at the same time he seems to believe in fate to some extent. How would he be able to reconcile those two drives?

- Aizawa - on the one hand as a teacher he can do much more, but on the other one now he has to save his thirty students from all the dangers lurking before them. Needlessly to say, it's no easy task to keep all the problem children of class 1A safe. He's an experienced hero, so it would be interesting to see how he uses his knowledge and skills to overcome the obstacles in his way.

For the pairings I enjoy Bakugou/Uraraka, Todoroki/Deku and Aizawa/Hizashi. I don't have strong shipping preference for Tokoyami, but I would be okay with shipping him with Deku. Feel free to ask through mods if you feel strongly about shipping him with someone. As far as Uraraka's feelings for Deku are concerned I'm okay with her crush being mentioned, but I'd rather it wasn't the focus and definitely not an endgame. I like the idea of the two of them dating for some time, but realizing it isn't working for them and staying friends instead or a scenario where Uraraka never conveys her feelings and they sizzle out through years.

Character Receives Letters from Their Future Self

Character's Health Worsens the More They Time Travel

Time Loop/Groundhog Day

Character Meets Their Own Earlier/Later Incarnation

Time Loop - Looping character trying to save another character's life

Uncontrollable Spontaneous Time Travel

5 Minute Long Time Loop

Alternate Universe - Canon Character Is Secretly A Time Traveler From The Future

Multiple Travelers - Accidentally Get In Each Other’s Way While Trying To Achieve The Same Goal

Mental Time Travel to Past - Sharing Body With Past Self

Mental Time Travel to Past - Replacing Past Self

Mental Time Travel to Past - Merging With Past Self

[jercythesiscrying]

Five Times Hinata Was Hit In The Face (& One Time He Wasn’t) | Hinata-centric, Gen, G, 1.3k

NaNoWriMo Day 9: 5-and-1

Summary: What it says on the tin ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Warning for this poor kid's face getting hit all the time for the sake of this fic. RIP in peace Hinata Shouyou.

Read on Ao3

A/N: Un-beta'd but quite frankly I was astonished I managed to even finish on time. Thank you to the 18+ YOI Server for the cheerleading ♥♥♥

.: 1 :.

The worst one, by far, is during the first practice against the Neighbourhood Association when Asahi-san spikes the ball into his face.

Shouyou flies at the impact, an embarrassing wail escaping his lips. He lands with his back on the floor, completely unable to stop himself from falling.

When he finally comes to, he’s met with a blur of faces hovering above him and dozens of voices talking on top of each other.

“Hinata, are you okay?!”

“Shouyou, holy shit!”

“Hinata!”

“Jeez, you really flew there, huh?”

Shouyou shakes his head, trying to clear out the fuzziness. He assesses the damage: his cheek feels like it’s on fire from the pain, but (aside from his pride maybe) at least nothing’s broken.

He assures everyone that he’s okay—not even dizzy, really!—because he desperately wants to continue playing. Takeda-sensei gives him a look, but otherwise acquiesces so the match can finally finish.

.: 2 :.

It happens again when they’re all practicing serves for warm-ups one morning. Shouyou would almost think it’s a cruel way to start the day, getting slapped in the face as a way to wake up.

But no. The worst part is that it’s Kageyama’s killer serve that hits him.

“GWAH!”

He goes down like a tower of blocks knocked over, collapsing to the floor.

“Not again!”

“Hinata!”

“Dumbass.”

“Shimizu, grab the first-aid!”

He’s definitely a little more out of it than usual since it’s still early in the morning, but otherwise he’s fine. Shimizu didn’t even need the first-aid kit like they thought, though somewhere in the background Shouyou can hear Tanaka-senpai and Nishinoya-senpai groaning that they can’t watch Shimizu caring after someone now.

He’s helped off the floor by Kageyama, who mutters, “Watch the ball, dumbass.”

“I know that!” He pouts—he doesn’t need Kagayama telling him that.

“Clearly, you don’t.”

“Well, next time don’t aim for me!”

“Are you saying you can’t receive it?” Kageyama smirks, and Shouyou can’t help but rise to the challenge.

“We’ll see about that! I bet I can receive one of your serves before the day ends!” he insists.

“Loser buys yogurt?”

“You’re on!”

(Shouyou doesn’t win, and he begrudgingly buys Kageyama a vanilla yogurt after practice later that day.)

.: 3 :.

He and Shimizu-senpai are trying to teach Yachi how to do a simple serve one afternoon. The two managers came a little earlier than the rest of the team, and Shouyou was the first to arrive after them. With the net set up and a cart full of balls ready at the sidelines, Hinata shows Yachi an underhand serving position. She does her best to copy him after his demonstration: her elbows are slightly bent, and her entire body is shaking, but otherwise she looks alright to Shouyou’s eyes.

(He doesn’t see Shimizu behind him biting her lip, definitely sure that Yachi’s doing it incorrectly.)

Yachi throws the ball up, her right hand swinging into it, making good contact with her palm —

SLAM!

The next thing Shouyou knows, he’s lying on the floor, cheek throbbing. During the disorientation, he can hear the other two speaking:

“HINATA-SAN! I’M SO SORRY! OH MY GOODNESS, WHAT IF YOU’RE CONCUSSED? I’M SO SORRY –”

“Haha, it’s okay, Hitoka-chan! I don’t think he’s that injured –”

Shouyou sits up, rubbing his cheek. “I’m okay!” he announces. “Maybe grab the first-aid kit?”

“YES, I WILL GO DO THAT, I’M SO SORRY HINATA –”

Despite himself, Shouyou giggles. “It’s fine, Yachi-san! It was one heck of a serve to knock me out!”

.: 4 :.

Shouyou doesn’t see it coming.

He’s on his way to see Kenma, Nekoma having finished their match with Shinzen to rest at the benches, when he hears someone yell:

“OI, WATCH OUT!”

He turns just in time for a volleyball to hit his face nose-first.

“BWAH-BAH!”

Shouyou falls backwards at the impact, feet slipping underneath him, and he slams into the gym floor in a clatter.

“Shouyou!”

“SORRY!!”

“Hinata-kun!”

“CRAP!”

“Hinata!”

“Oh, shoot, he’s bleeding...”

“SOMEONE GET FIRST-AID!”

He’s fine by the end of the ruckus, simply given a wad of tissues to help with his nosebleed. After the commotion, he sits next to Kenma on Nekoma’s benches. At the blonde’s disapproving frown, Shouyou laughs, waving away his concerns with a dismissive hand.

“I’mb okeh!” he insists, words slurring a bit with his nose plugged. “I’mb used doo gedding hid in da face now!”

Kenma’s frown only deepens. “That’s not comforting, Shouyou...”

He shrugs, still laughing. “Id’s fine, really!”

.: 5 :.

There is one time where it is entirely his fault. He’s doing his best with overhand receives during free practice one evening, Yamaguchi helping out by throwing ball after ball. He alternates between tossing them directly at Shouyou or against a wall tucked into the corner of the gym. Shouyou’s improving according Nishinoya-senpai, but he knows he has a long, long way to go.

He gets distracted by someone calling his name, and he automatically twists his head around, trying to see who.

SMACK!

The ball makes perfect contact with his right temple, and he grunts at the impact.

“Oof!”

"Hinata!”

“Idiot.”

He doesn’t get completely knocked out—just a little unsettled on his feet, and a pounding at the side of his head—which is extremely fortunate for him because he thinks he’s getting almost as many injuries from balls accidentally hitting him as he is from regular volleyball practice. He rubs his head instinctively, moaning at the pain.

“Dumbass,” someone says, and when Shouyou looks up he sees that it’s Kageyama calling him. The smirk on the setter’s face kind of kills the mocking tone he’s going for, but Shouyou pouts at him anyway.

“It’s your fault for calling me!”

“You should be paying attention to the ball no matter what, idiot.”

“Shut up,” he whines, glaring away.

He turns back to Yamaguchi, who fails to hide a snicker behind his hand. “W-well,” he giggles, “he’s not wrong, Hinata.”

“Hey!”

.: &1 :.

“Okay,” Nishinoya-senpai continues, “so after you get into position, make sure that you receive with this part.” He points to the flat of Shouyou’s hands where they’re clasped together, and he nods.

“Got it!”

Nishinoya looks across the court, where on the other side of the net Kinoshita-san is ready with a ball. “Alright! Hisashi, serve!” he calls out, a palm cupped around his mouth.

Kinoshita throws a thumbs up, doing a soft overhand serve rather than the jump floaters Shouyou has seen him practicing lately. He immediately runs up, positioning himself as best as he can underneath the ball. Unfortunately, his timing is off, and it smacks against his wrists than his hands, the ball flying sideways and off the court.

“Aw!” he whines, frustrated.

“Hm,” Nishinoya considers. “You might be too fast. Try running up a little slower so you can get under the ball better.”

Shouyou nods, and the three of them restart to do everything again.

Slowly, Shouyou’s receives improve (10 out of 25 today!), but he knows he still has a lot of work to do before he’s even better than Tsukishima, much less as amazing as Nishinoya-senpai is.

They close the day with free practice, and Shouyou continues practicing his underhand receives while Yamaguchi tests his jump floaters on him. At one point, the ball hits Yamaguchi’s palm incorrectly, and he yells, “Crap!”

The ball flies on a straight trajectory towards him instead of floating over the net the way Yamaguchi had been practicing. Shouyou watches the ball with intensity despite the familiar sight of a projectile heading for his face, backing up before squatting into an underhand position. It hits his clasped hands in a satisfying smack! before flying towards the net where the setter would be positioned.

“Woah!” Yamaguchi calls out. “Amazing, Hinata, nice receive!”

“SHOUYOU!!” He looks to where Nishinoya-senpai is jumping for joy, fists pumping in the air when he screams, “NICE RECEIVE!”

Shouyou beams, whooping in success.

(More notes on Ao3.)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Nocturne (12/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen (variety later to come)

Summary: In which Cor Leonis loses his temper, accidentally acquires a kid, and tries to single-handedly dismantle the Lucian immigration system – and that’s before he and his lawyers find out about this Prophecy business. If the Astrals think Cor’s going to let his kid’s best friend die without a fight, they’ve gotten the wrong cheetah ‘taur.

(a young adult novel set in @kickingshoes’ ‘taur AU)

—————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————

“I don’t like this,” Iggy whispers to Gladio, who squeezes his hand.

“It’ll be okay,” Gladio assures him. He’s not entirely sure that’s correct, but he’s going to say it anyway. Iggy’s mom is helping direct the efforts to evacuate civilians and set up a resistance force – the Niflheim ships have started arriving in full force now, dropping bombs and MT soldiers and everything, and the Captain of the Coast Guard, a red fox ‘taur named Desidero, recruited her immediately when he saw her ordering people around with her usual bossy calm.

Six, Gladio loves the Scientias. He can’t think of a better family to be going through a crisis with, except of course his own.

But his dad told him he needs to be strong and good and save lives because he needs to be a proper Amicitia Shield, and he’s gonna be.

Well, as soon as he gets a chance, anyway.

He glances at Iggy’s mom, who is now entirely preoccupied arguing over a map with Desidero and his lieutenants – they seem to be discussing where to move the few anti-aircraft guns they have, or at least the cannons they had for sea warfare that they’re repurposing for anti-aircraft uses. That’s keeping her pretty busy, which is why she’d asked Desidero’s wife and husband to watch over them because she was busy and the Crownsguard was busy and they weren't particularly martial themselves.

Ielena and Tomaz are very nice, but they’re also trying to watch a whole bunch of other kids at the same time, so they're not really paying attention.

Yes, now would be a good time.

Gladio tugs on Iggy’s hand and Iggy turns to look at him.

“I’m gonna go out and see who I can help,” Gladio whispers to him.

“That’s a terrible idea and you shouldn’t do it,” Iggy hisses back.

“I’m a Shield,” Gladio reminds him. “My dad told me to save some lives, remember? I’ve gotta!”

Iggy hesitates.

“C’mon,” Gladio begs. “We can just go and check out how it’s going outside – we’re nowhere near any of the main fighting – if there’s nothing to do, we’ll come right back in –”

“Oh, okay,” Iggy gives in, and Gladio does a little leap of joy, then starts tugging Iggy towards the door before he changes his mind.

The street outside is filled with smoke and shouting.

Gladio leads the way towards where the most noise is coming from, sticking close to the wall with Iggy right behind him; he’s sure he’ll find people to help there. He clutches at his little sword – more of a large knife, which Cor called a ‘machete’ when he gave it to Gladio for his eighth birthday and which Gladio’s Dad called ‘more trouble than it’s worth’, but which is the best he’s got right now. He can wield bigger swords – he has in the training grounds – but he doesn’t have any of those with him now.

There’s a lot of people running around – some Crownsguard that Gladio recognizes, moving from one place to another, leading additional militia to shore up more defensive locations – some civilians that are still evacuating –

Gladio notices some movement down one of the alleys. At the very far end, there’s this one guy, a big bear ‘taur, who’s gotten stuck under a half-collapsed building, and a wolf ‘taur wearing a Crownsguard trainee shirt is frantically trying to help tug him out.

And behind the wolf ‘taur, right in his blind spot, there’s an MT sneaking up on him.

No!

Gladio charges, leaving Iggy behind, and he leaps for the wall, using it to push himself off of and bringing the machete down on the MT’s neck, just like he would’ve if it was a practice doll back in the training grounds at home.

The wolf ‘taur spins around with a shout of surprise – the MT staggers back –

Gladio lands on the ground and swings for the MT’s knee.

The MT’s joint crackles when Gladio hits it, so he hits it again, and the MT falls over backwards; Gladio rushes forward and tries to stab it in the chest, but the MT swings its sword at him, though luckily it does it pretty slowly since it’s lying at such a bad angle, but it does mean that Gladio has to duck down around the sword to avoid it.

While the MT’s distracted, though, the wolf ‘taur leaps forward and buries a dagger into the MT’s chest control unit.

There’s a lot of sparks and crackling for a minute, but then the MT goes quiet and dark.

“Hey, he was mine,” Gladio protests.

“Don't worry, you definitely saved my life, kid; I just lent a hand in finishing it,” the wolf ‘taur says, then squints at him now that he’s got a good visual. “Wait a sec, what the hell, how old are you? Twelve?”

The guy thinks Gladio is twelve. Gladio proudly puffs up his fur a bit.

“He’s eight,” Iggy snaps from the shadows of the nearby building. “Gladio, get back here already!”

“Didja see what I did?” Gladio asks him.

“I did,” Iggy says. “And we need to get out of the way before more MTs come – they usually travel in groups, remember?”

“That’s right,” the wolf ‘taur says, running his hand through his braided hair, mouthing ‘eight’ to himself with a weird expression. “But Libertus is still trapped –”

Iggy, who was right in the middle of hissing to Gladio that he was going to march off back to the headquarters with or without Gladio and it’d better be with Gladio or he was telling his mom, suddenly freezes.

“Your friend’s name is Libertus?” he asks.

“Yeah,” the guy says, blinking at him. “And I’m Nyx.”

“Your friend’s name is Libertus,” Iggy says again, his voice sounding kind of weird. “And he’s a bear.”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Has he ever considered introducing himself as Li-bear-tus?” Iggy asks.

Ugh, Gladio should’ve known it’d be something like that. Iggy loves puns.

Nyx snorts. “Um. No. But clearly he should.” His smile fades. “But I can’t get him out from under the rubble.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Iggy says. “You’re pushing on the wrong side – here, watch me –”

“Wait, no, hold up, I’m not letting an eight-year-old –” Nyx starts, but Iggy’s already gone hopping up the rubble.

“He’s actually only seven,” Gladio offers helpfully. “I’m a year older.”

Nyx covers his eyes. “Oh, Ramuh’s many beaks, I’m a terrible person. Accepting help from kitlings.”

“Hey! Don’t forget I’m the one who saved your life!”

“Watch out below!” Iggy calls, and does – something, Gladio’s not quite sure what, but somehow the entire building just falls apart, the spare wall sliding right off like it’s got wet clay under it, and suddenly Libertus is free and very surprised-looking about it.

“Libertus!” Nyx shouts, and leaps forward, helping his friend up. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay,” Libertus says, clapping Nyx’s shoulder. “It wasn’t weighing on me, it just squeezed too tight for me to get free, that’s all. How’re you?”

“Embarrassed,” Nyx says wryly, though Gladio’s not sure why. “But I’m okay. We need to get back to my house – my selena’s there –”

“Selena?” Iggy asks.

“My sister,” Nyx says. “Her name’s Hemera –” He bites his lip, looking just short of frantic. “I don’t know if she got out during the evacuation –”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Gladio asks. “The alarms –”

Nyx makes a face. “I don’t know if Selena even saw the evacuation alarms; she might not be looking. She’s deaf, you see, so she can't hear them – she usually sees the red flags when she looks out the window, or gets a visual text on her phone, but she stayed up all night doing her Crownsguard entrance exams, so she might still be asleep – we’ve been trying to get back to her since this whole thing started but –”

“We’ll help you,” Gladio says, aiming for a tone firm enough that no one will argue the way Iggy’s mom always manages.

Judging from the look on Iggy’s face, he knows exactly where Gladio got that tone from, and he’s not impressed.

“You’re just kids –” Nyx starts.

“Let ‘em come,” Libertus interrupts, shaking himself all over. “We don’t have time to argue - there are MTs on the way. We can drop ‘em off somewhere safe later. Let’s go.”

Iggy takes one look at him and leaps onto Libertus’ back, probably because he knows his little ibex legs aren't designed to keep up with a full run even if he was in good enough fitness for it, which he's not; Libertus doesn’t even notice and takes off at a galloping sort of run, Nyx and Gladio right behind them.

“The sky’s still clear,” Nyx says as they run.

“So what?” Gladio asks. He’s panting a little bit, but he’s still doing okay keeping up – his dad was totally right to insist on all of those endurance lessons.

“That means - the alarms - I don’t understand why the sea’s doing this! It’s going crazy like there’s a hurricane coming now – at first the tsunami alarms went off and I figured it was a freak event, and then I realized it was to warn us about the Niflheim attack rather than the weather – but now the sea is also going nuts –”

“Oh, that,” Gladio says. “That’s probably because of Leviathan.”

“Leviathan?”

“Yeah,” Gladio says. “She’s being summoned.”

“Wait, what?! Why would anyone do that? She’s not all that fond of humanity regularly!”

“Well,” Gladio says practically. “Would you want to be flying over those seas right now?”

“…point.”

They get back to a nice little house and Nyx barrels through the door, shouting Hemera’s name, which doesn’t seem to make sense since he told Gladio that she was deaf, but maybe it makes him feel better.

“She’s not here!” Libertus shouts. “Nyx!”

“You think she evacuated?”

“Does she look like you?” Iggy demands.

“What?”

“Your sister! Does she look like you?”

“Yes! Like me, a wolf 'taur, just with pale-colored fur on her lower half – do you see her?”

Iggy points across the street at what used to be a small corner store. The front of the building collapsed, and there’s a female wolf ‘taur beating frantically at the glass. Iggy's right: she does look like Nyx.

“Hemera!”

Nyx rushes over to try to pull away the rubble, but there’s too much. She starts moving her hands frantically – at first Gladio thinks she’s just panicking, but then he recognizes a few of the signs from when Prompto was young and didn’t talk much. It’s LSL, Lucian Sign Language. Well, it makes sense, since she’s deaf.

“What’s she saying?” he asks.

“She’s saying that there’s no way out,” Ignis translates, because of course he’s learned LSL. Gladio's going to have to do double-time just to catch up, isn't he? “The door is blocked and the windows are boarded up, and – oh dear – she says there’s a bomb in there!”

“A bomb?”

“I don’t know the word she uses before it –”

“Unexploded,” Nyx says shortly, working together with Libertus to try to move it. “So far, anyway. She says it’s about to go off.”

Hemera signs some more.

“An MT squadron came through here earlier,” Nyx translates, clearly functioning on automatic instinct. “They came to the house – she ran away to the store through the window – they blew up the door, but then the Crownsguard came and chased them out.” He pauses, suddenly struck by horror. “If they hadn’t been here…”

He goes quiet.

Gladio tries to tug at some of the rubble. If only Dad were here! Or Noct’s dad, he could’ve used the warping to jump, or maybe used his lightning power to blast straight through –

Gladio gets an idea.

It’s a terrible idea, but it’s starting to occur to him that he really doesn’t want to be out here, especially with poor Hemera all trapped and all the MTs coming and bombs dropping, but he knows they can’t leave without rescuing Hemera.

So maybe it’s worth a shot.

He tugs at Nyx’s pants. “Hey, hey,” he says. “Your shirt – you’re a Crownsguard trainee?”

“Well, technically I’m aiming for Galadh Coast Guard once I pass boot camp, but yeah,” Nyx says. “Why?”

“Have you done the whole oath-to-the-king thing?” Gladio demands.

“Uh, yeah – we did that when we joined –”

“What’re you thinking?” Iggy demands.

“I can do the channeling thing a little bit,” Gladio says. “The lightning and fire and stuff. Like Dad – he taught me how.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Iggy says, wringing his hands together. “You remember what he said –”

“Channeling?” Nyx interrupts, looking between them. “Channeling what?”

“Magic!”

“You can use magic?”

“It’s the King’s magic,” Gladio explains. “But I’m an Amicitia –”

“Glacian’s tits, he’s an Amicitia,” Libertus moans. That’s very rude.

Also, isn’t the swear for the Glacian ‘Glacian’s jewels’…? That's how Gladio's always heard it.

“– and I know how to channel it,” Gladio finishes, deciding to think about it later. “Well. With help.”

“Will it get us in there?” Nyx asks, getting straight to the point.

“I think so.”

Nyx crouches down next to Gladio. “Then how can I help?”

Gladio puts his hand on Nyx’s chest, right over his human heart the way he does with his Dad, and he focuses on the place inside of him where the magic comes. Dad told him that everyone who swears an oath to the King of Lucis has a direct line to the King’s magic; it’s just that most people can’t use it. But Amicitias can, and Gladio’s pretty sure Iggy will be able to, too, one day. He’s always been able to feel the magic.

“Hey, my chest is feeling warm,” Nyx says. “Is that normal?”

“You can feel that?” Iggy demands.

“Uh – yes, I think so – ”

“You can access the magic!” Gladio exclaims, surprised.

“Good,” Iggy says. “Then he can throw the fireball instead of you!”

“Fireball?” Libertus asks, sounding interested.

“Gladio, you know your dad said you shouldn't channel things like that until you were older,” Iggy says, ignoring him to focus on Gladio. “And not just because what you can do is dangerous, but because your body is too young to process the power properly –”

“I’ll do it,” Nyx says immediately. “Just tell me how.”

Gladio tells him.

Nyx nods, and stands. He signs something to Hemera, who nods and backs away, then he holds his hand behind him, like he’s going to throw something, closes his eyes and concentrates.

And then he throws his hand forward.

A giant fireball zips away from his hand and blasts into the door.

“Holy crap, Nyx!” Libertus exclaims.

Nyx is gaping. “I just did that. I just – I just did that –”

A second later, Hemera jumps out through the smoking pit of the door and rushes forward to embrace her brother. She’s a wolf, like Nyx, but where his wolf fur is dark greys and blacks, hers is a pale grey dappled with spots of white and tan.

Then the entire building explodes right behind her, sending them all staggering back.

“Hemera,” Nyx yelps, clutching at her tighter. “Oh, selena, my moon – it just – it –

She kisses him on the cheek, then pulls back and signs something.

“Yeah,” Nyx says, staring at the building. “You definitely told me so. That explosion is a bit more imminent than I thought you meant, that’s all.” He shudders. “If we didn’t get you out…if we hadn’t been able to open that door in time…”

She hugs him again, and even Gladio can interpret the next few signs as “but you did, so it’s okay.”

Nyx shakes his head. “I thought I’d lost you…”

Hemera smiles at him – and then suddenly the smile goes wicked, and she signs something else.

Nyx suddenly flushes bright red. “I didn’t steal children! They came to me! I don't even know where they came from!”

She signs some more, still grinning. Gladio mentally vows to learn LSL.

“Yes,” Nyx squawks. “Of course I’m planning to put them back!”

King Hasdrubal the Third of the lost and sunken Atlantioi, which apparently isn’t nearly as lost as it’s supposed to be – though Prompto does have to concede that it is, indeed, sunk – is an octopus ‘taur.

Which is pretty cool, Prompto hadn’t even known that ‘taurs came in pure aquatic forms before now. Sure, Cor told him about old Weskham the Walrus ‘taur, since he’d been an old friend of Noct’s dad and Gladio’s dad and he travelled around with them when Cor was just a kid, and he’d said something about there being plenty of aquatic-like mammal ‘taurs over in Accordo – bears and water shrews and otters and stuff, which is probably why the group that got sent to rescue them was composed of ‘taurs that were comfortable on both sea and land – but this is totally different.

Prompto never even imagined that there could be ‘taurs who were octopuses-es. Octopuses? Octopi?

“Is it octopuses or octopi?” he whispers to Noct, who shrugs.

“It’s actually ‘octopodes’,” King Hasdrubal says, which means Prompto’s whispering wasn’t as quiet as it might’ve been.

Oops.

“However, we generally prefer cephalopodaetaurs,” the king adds with a smile and a shrug, which itself is a complicated business involving all eight of his tentacles. “The cephalopodaetaurs have reigned in Atlantioi for generations – very nearly since the original sinking.”

Honestly, Prompto thinks this whole thing is really cool. They travelled by bubble. They arrived at a gigantic underwater city, made of stone and non-rusting steel and other things, and most of that was under a bubble, too, which meant that they could walk inside and breathe, even though there are all sorts of super-aquatic mammal ‘taurs like manatees and seals and even dolphins and whales everywhere.

So cool.

Noct thinks it’s pretty cool too, to judge by his grin.

“On that note,” Noct’s mom says in her best regal tone, “I believe I have some questions…”

King Hasdrubal holds up his hands (just the hands, not the tentacles), though, looking grave. “I understand,” he says. “We will have time to discuss many of them, including why we have lived in secret all these many years, whether we can open up diplomatic relations between our two nations, and what benefits we both might obtain from this meeting. But now is not the time: Leviathan has risen. Come – behold.”

He beckons them forward, so they all go forward – Prompto glances at Cor, who’s focused on the whole room, and then at the very nice hippopotamus ‘taur named Dido who nods encouragingly at him. She’s dark-skinned, like Maero and some of the Crownsguard and a good portion of the Galahdians and also King Hasdrubal, but the rest of the audience room – all filled with aquatic ‘taurs, like seals and walruses and hippos and otters and even manatees – is as diverse as Lucis, which is good.

Cor always says that he doesn’t trust people who discriminate by nationality, color or fur, and he especially hates people that try to pretend that all three are the same when they obviously aren’t. According to the pre-Solheim records they’ve found, people used to assume that where you were from said something about your color (presumably skin color, since they didn't have fur? weird - there's a lot more fur colors than there are skin colors), but anyway that was way back before Solheim, which had something called a Right of Travel or something, and everyone got all mixed up everywhere, and that’s how they stayed even after the radio-action of the Astral’s war made them all into ‘taurs and split them into separate countries again for the first time in generations.

So if these people don’t discriminate, that’s got to be a good sign, right?

Noct’s favorite is clearly Bomilcar, the capybara ‘taur, instead of Dido the hippopotamus ‘taur that Prompto thinks is amazing, but Bomilcar – who’s standing next to the throne – is nodding approvingly as well, so they go trotting up forward with the adults.

King Hasdrubal is gesturing at some sort of giant mirror, but Prompto’s attention gets a little distracted.

“I really like your parrot shrimp,” he tells him, pointing at the tank next to the throne.

“Giant mantis shrimp, actually,” Bomilcar says, smiling a little.

“That’s not giant, it’s barely the size of a parrot, I've seen bigger for eating –”

“Shhh,” Noct says, elbowing Prompto, and so Prompto turns to look at the mirror, which it turns out isn’t actually a mirror at all but some sort of television screen.

It shows the beach of Galahd, with all the Niflheim airships fleet above it, and the waters gone all raging and everything even though the sky is still barely catching up, cloud-wise. And then, from the churning waters of the deep, something massive breaks through the water’s surface.

Leviathan rises.

Leviathan has always been the least humanoid of the Astrals: the great and fearsome Tidemother, with the head of a serpent-dragon instead of a human torso, a long scaled neck and fins instead of a torso and arms, and her gigantic body underneath, with its long snake-like tail, the claw-like fins…

Huh. Maybe Prompto shouldn’t have been so surprised about aquatic ‘taurs after all, in the land famously sunk by Leviathan in a rage.

In the mirror, Leviathan’s snake-like head rears up dramatically, except of course the Niflheim airships are in the way and she promptly bonks her skull on the underside of one of the ships.

Prompto bursts into giggles, which in turn makes Noct – who was barely resisting before – do the same.

“It’s not funny, children,” Aulea says. “She’s a very dangerous goddess – Cor, are you laughing?”

“No,” Cor says, but he’s definitely smirking. “I am not laughing at the massive snake-goddess bonking her head like a tall person hitting the ceiling of a too-small room.”

“Technically, she hit an airship,” King Hasdrubal says, but he’s got an expression like he thinks it’s pretty funny, too.

And then one of the Niflheim ships – out of automatic reaction, or maybe out of stupidity – decides to fire on Leviathan.

“Oooh, bad idea,” Cor says.

“Very,” Aulea says.

“Oh dear,” King Hasdrubal says.

“This is gonna be awesome,” Noct says.

Leviathan turns and opens her mighty jaws. The airship is bigger than she can swallow, but she can grip it with her teeth and, with a strong toss of her head, fling it at one of the other airships – and, indeed, she does just that.

There’s a giant booming explosion when the two airships hit each other.

“Yaaaaay!” Prompto exclaims, leaping into the air and barking, his tail wagging furiously.

The last big airship turns to face her, leaving the smaller ships to the business of attacking Galahd.

Leviathan looks at them for a long moment, then suddenly the air is filled with streaming water spouts, all shaped like Leviathan –

“The other heads of the hydra!” Noct exclaims, clapping.

“He has to defeat – that?” Noct’s mom says faintly, watching the ship get ripped apart by the heads. "My baby?"

“Fun,” Cor says, but that’s because Prompto’s Cor is the best. “Can’t wait. How do we get her to come here, instead of where the Oracle is summoning her?”

“That will not be a problem,” King Hasdrubal say, and waves a hand. A handful of the retainers head off. After another minute of watching Leviathan screaming with rage at the Niflheim fleet ship she’s kicking the ass of, very effectively, there’s a big boom that shakes the room.

“What was that?” Noct’s mom yelps.

“An underwater concussion bomb,” King Hasdrubal says. “It will attract Leviathan’s attention – she has always paid special attention to Atlantioi.”

Sure enough, Leviathan turns away from savaging the Niflheim ship and slowly sinks beneath the waves again, although her watery secondary heads continue to wreak some serious havoc.

“Hey, why’re her other heads hitting the buildings on shore?” Prompto asks, frowning at the mirror. “She’s not just hitting the Niflheim ships.”

“Leviathan does not like ‘taurkind,” King Hasdrubal says solemnly. “She hasn’t since before the fall of Solheim – it was only her notion of duty that kept her in line with Bahamut and the others against the insurrection of Ifrit. That is why wise ‘taurs fear to raise her, for, like the coeurls of the Galahd interior, she attacks them indiscriminately. That is why it is unwise to summon her.”

“We were aware of that,” Cor says dryly. “We thought it worth the risk, especially since we needed to raise her anyway for the Covenant.”

“Which, it occurs to me, you still haven’t explained how you know about,” Noct’s mom says pointedly. “Or about Noctis.”

“Our connection with the sleeping and now-risen Leviathan is closer than other lands,” King Hasdrubal says. “She speaks to us, sometimes: she spoke of the end – the coming of the Chosen King – and six years ago, she said, in a tone that shook the sea, ‘He is Come At Last.’”

“The sea shook on your birthday?” Prompto asks Noct, duly impressed. “I thought you just had a star in the sky.”

“Cool,” Noct says. “Must’ve been uncomfortable to be in, though. Like being in a bottle of water that someone's holding while they're running or something.”

“It was fine, though I appreciate your concern,” King Hasdrubal says, sounding a bit strangled – kinda like the way adults sound when they’re trying not to laugh. “Perhaps you should bend your mind towards your upcoming meeting, young Chosen King.”

“Prince,” Noct says crossly. “My Dad’s still around, you know.”

“She is coming,” Bomilcar says, looking at the mirror. “We should go to the Goddess’ Balcony.”

The Goddess’ Balcony turns out to be just a regular old balcony, looking out from the palace over a giant stadium, except with no roof and one giant wall missing, which makes a lot more sense once Leviathan slithers down to fill the space.

Then the place becomes positively cosy. Leviathan is very large.

“You seek the Covenant, Chosen King,” she says, her hissing voice deep and booming and coming from all directions.

“Prince!” Noct exclaims.

Leviathan blinks her big eyes at him, clearly not having expected that response.

“My Dad’s still alive,” Noct says, crossing his arms. “That makes me a prince, not a king. Duh.”

In Prompto's view, Noct has a point there.

“You are…” Leviathan hesitates. “Younger than I was expecting you to be.”

“We decided not to wait,” Cor puts in. He seems relaxed, but his hand is on his sword. “Didn’t seem like it’d do any good, waiting for a tragedy to come.”

Leviathan considers this for a moment, then shakes her mighty head. “It matters not. You dare to summon me –”

“Technically Luna summoned you,” Noct points out. “And she’s the Oracle; it’s kinda her job, isn’t it?”

“That is beside the point! You dare demand the power of a goddess!”

“It’s in the Prophecy,” Noct protests. “It’s not my fault that I have to come talk with all of you! Take it up with Bahamut if you’re angry! He's the one who predicted it!”

Leviathan hisses at him, which Prompto thinks is very rude.

“You are weak,” she says disdainfully. “Weak and unworthy – no more than an insignificant speck!”

Noct takes a step back. He looks like his feelings have been hurt.

“That’s not nice,” Prompto says. He doesn't like it when people hurt Noct's feelings.

“There is nothing in you that is worthy of my power,” Leviathan spits. “Small and stupid, like all of your kind – forgetting your place, for my power is as far beyond you as I am – even if you had waited as you ought, until the fullness of time, you would never have defeated me!”

“That’s really not nice.”

“Pathetic,” Leviathan sneers. “Just like all of humanity –” That’s an archaic word, as old as pre-Solheim when people used to actually be humans rather than 'taurs; the preferred word now is ‘taurkind. “– you, little Chosen one, are nothing more than a waste of space, a waste of time, one which should never have been born –”

She stops abruptly.

After a moment, she says, in a very different tone of voice, that very same sort of adult-strangled-maybe-kinda-trying-not-to-laugh voice that King Hasdrubal had earlier, “What does the puppy think he is doing?”

“He appears to be biting your fin,” Cor says. He’s taken his hand off his sword because he’s put his face in his hands – Prompto can just see it over where his mouth is filled with fin from where he’s leaped over the balcony, his both sets of paws scrabbling for balance on her slick scales. Luckily, she’s big enough that he’s able to find some hold with his fingers and all four paws. “Ma’am.”

“I…see. And why is he doing this?”

“I think he’s trying to get you to stop speaking in that manner to Prince Noctis,” Noct’s mom says. She also has her face in her hands. Maybe it’s a grown-up thing? “Prompto, please come back.”

Prompto releases the fin. “No!” he barks. “She was being mean. You’re not supposed to be mean to people! They said so in kindergarden!”

“That doesn’t mean you can bite them, Prompto,” Cor says, sounding long-suffering. “We’ve had this conversation before. Remember pre-school? I thought we were over this. No biting people.”

Prompto turns to look at him, putting his hands on his hips – his paws slip a bit when he does, but Leviathan catches and steadies him with another one of her fins, and that makes it much easier to stand. “You said that people need to be kind to each other,” he says fiercely. “Kindness among ‘taurs – that’s the only way we’ll ever be good people. You have to try to be nice, even when you’re upset, because you don’t know what other people’s lives are like. The only time it’s okay to be mean is when you see someone attacking people who are weaker than they are, because that makes them bullies, and bullies have to be stopped. And she was being mean to Noct for no reason even though she's much stronger!”

“You have a very loyal companion, young Prince,” Leviathan says to Noct.

“Prompto’s the best,” Noct says, frowning at her. “But he’s right, you know. You’re a goddess, aren’t you? Then why are you being so mean? You’re so much more powerful than we are, and powerful people attacking weak people – well, Prompto's right. that just makes you a bully.”

“The Tidemother is not a bully,” King Hasdrubal says, sounding vaguely horrified.

Noct crosses his arms. “Well?” he says to Leviathan. “Are you a bully or not? Because you’re being awfully nasty, and all the ‘taurs up in Galahd and in the Port and even back at home, they all celebrate you once every year, and I don’t know why they do that if you don’t even like any of them.”

“Humanity is weak,” Leviathan says, but she sounds almost puzzled.

“So?” Prompto says. “Lots of people are weak. I’m weak.”

“You are anything but weak, Prompto,” Cor says, clearly functioning on automatic, because Cor doesn't let Prompto say nasty things about himself, not ever. “Your inability to lift more than thirty pounds at a given time is just because your muscle tone is underdeveloped – it doesn’t say anything about you.”

“That’s not the point, though,” Noct says. Noct understands what Prompto means, he always does, even when Cor sometimes gets confused; that’s why Prompto loves Noct the absolute best and that’s why they’re gonna get married when they grow up. “What he means is – so what if ‘taurs are weak? That doesn’t change how you should act. Both a bully and a hero have power: the difference between them is that a bully uses his power to be mean to people who are weaker, while a hero uses his power to protect them.”

He glares up at Leviathan.

“This is nothing to do with us,” he says. “This is all to do with you. My dad always says that who you are isn’t something that’s the same all the time, from birth. Who you are is shown by the choices you make, every day, and it’s always up to you in the end whether you’re going to stand tall and be good, or if you’re not. Which one are you, Leviathan?”

Huh, now even King Hasdrubal has his face in his hands. Definitely a grown-up thing.

But then the fin under Prompto’s paws starts to shake and he has to leap back to the scales to try to get a handhold so he doesn’t fall. That means it takes a few seconds for him to figure how what’s happening.

Leviathan is laughing.

“You speak the truth, young Prince,” she says. “If you had appealed to me on behalf of humanity at large, I would have repelled you – I would have attacked, for I care nothing of the humanity which built for itself the greatest monuments and then in their recklessness and weakness destroyed them, humanity which hurts and injures and destroys each other and also the world in which they live in without care for the consequences. But you ask me to judge myself, lest I myself repeat in myself the behaviors which have led me to despise humanity.”

She shakes her giant snake-liked head.

“I will not be like those I despise,” she says. “I will be better than they, even to those who I do not think deserve it. You may have my blessing, young Prince.”

Noct blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Huh. Cool. Really? That's cool.”

“Out of the mouth of babes,” Leviathan says, sounding long-suffering.

“Hey!” Noct yelps. “I’m not a baby!”

“You’re my baby,” Noct’s mom says firmly. “Now take the win and say thank you to the – uh – to the nice goddess.”

“Thank you,” Noct says obediently.

“Yeah, thanks,” Prompto says, and pats her scales. “Maybe you’re not a bully after all. And it was really cool what you did with the airships – especially that part where you threw one into the other and they went BOOM!”

“I concur, young companion. That was indeed very, ah, cool,” Leviathan says. She still sounds amused, and then she gently rears up and turns her fin diagonally so that Prompto tumbles back down onto the balcony. “Go well, little one – and believe in your guardian. You are not weak.”

“Awww, thanks,” Prompto says.

“However, your jaw strength is indeed very weak. Do not bite people in the future.”

“Oh, fine,” Prompto grumbles. No one seems to appreciate it when he bites people.

“Maybe it’ll actually stick this time,” Cor says with a sigh, gathering Prompto into his arms. He doesn’t sound like he believes it, though.

Leviathan chuckles again and withdraws from the watery stadium, and she settles her great form down into a gigantic ditch until her head is fully hidden and all that can be seen is a positive mountain of scales.

The water goes quiet.

"Leviathan has return to her slumber," King Hasdrubal said. He sounded impressed.

Prompto wags his tail hopefully. “Does that mean we can go home now?” he asks.

“Yes,” Noct’s mom says. “And we are never doing that again.”

[wheregayeldhidsthewips]

You Can’t Stop Yourself From Falling

Dude, I don’t even remember writing this.  I also don’t remember why I stopped, because I made a point of getting these SPN Summer Gen stories finished.

WIP, like everything else here.

Title: You Can’t Stop Yourself From Falling 

Author: Wouldn’t you like to know <ljuser=”gayeld”> 

Recipient: <ljuser=”kaethe”> 

Prompt: A case involving a literary or mythological character. 

Disclaimer: Mine. No, seriously, mine. Prove otherwise. Unless you’re Eric Kripke or, you know, the CW, Warner Bros, then, uh, my bad. 

Summary:  <--Oops?

   “Dean! Come on, Dean, please, I just need you to step back a little, okay. Just a couple steps… Please. NO!” 

 --- 

 Sam stood in the dusty junkyard, listening more to the sounds that weren’t there than the ones that were. No music, none of the rhythmic tapping that normally accompanied Dean at work.  No whisper of the stupid, loving pet names his brother usual lavished on the car. Just the muted sounds of tools on metal. 

 Jesus, he didn’t know what to do. Dean was scaring the shit out of him and everything he’d done to try and help just seem to push his brother further away from him, closer to the edge he’d been dancing around ever since dad had died.  

 Maybe bringing him another hunt so soon after the last was a mistake. All the hunt for the Rakshasa had done was widen the rift between them and leave Dean more worn around the edges than before.  

 He could call the Roadhouse. Ask Ellen if she could pass this hunt on to someone else.  

 “What do you want, Sam?” 

 Dean looked drawn and tired, the circles under his eyes deeper than they’d been at dinner last night and Sam had to bite his lower lip to keep the words from slipping out. I want you to be all right. I want us to be all right. I want you to let me help you with this. 

 “There’s been another one.” 

 “Same as the others?” Dean wiped his hands on a dusty rag and shoved it in his back pocket before reaching for the stack of printouts in Sam’s hand. 

 “Looks like it.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Dean’s and was grateful when his brother didn’t pull away. “Coroner’s office ruled it death by misadventure, accidental drowning.” 

 “And the body was near the river?” Dean flipped quickly through the pages, stopping at a picture of a smiling couple. 

 “A place called Cat Island. It’s in the middle of the river, between Arkansas and Mississippi.” He took the papers back, shifted through them until he found the one he wanted. “Coroner’s report says the bones had evidence of bite marks but they were unable to match them to any known species.” 

 “Yeah, sounds like our kind of thing.” Dean sighed and rubbed a weary hand across the back of his neck. “But I am not taking that freakin’ minivan. I will walk to Arkansas first.” 

 “It wasn’t that bad,” Sam couldn’t help laughing at the sour look on Dean’s face. 

 “Dude, I would rather drive a Gremlin,” Dean replied, disgust evident in his voice. 

 “A Gremlin? Man, I had no idea you swung that way.” Sam danced away from the fist Dean aimed at his shoulder and started back toward the house, feeling lighter than he had in days. 

 --- 

 “I hate you.” 

 Sam bit back his laughter and followed his brother through the parking lot. “There’s nothing wrong with it.” 

 “It’s a Volvo, Sam.” The horror on Dean’s face made every penny Joseph Perry had spent on the rental worth it. 

 “They’re very safe cars.” 

 “They’re pieces of crap. Ugly pieces of crap.” Dean scowled as he opened the door to the police station and ushered his brother in. “And they faked all those crash test results. So, really, they’re ugly, unsafe pieces of crap.” 

 “Dude, you used to love that one Bobby had in his yard.” Sam reminded him with a grin. 

 “I did not. Besides, Bobby’s was a classic. A 1962 P1800, not—” Dean hooked his thumb back over his shoulder as he strode past Sam. “—a piece of crap.” 

 “Whatever, dude, you know you loved that car.” 

 Sam couldn’t help smirking as Dean glared at him before stopping in front of a battered desk, manned by matronly looking woman in a police uniform. 

 “Can I help you boys?” she asked, eyeing them warily. 

 “I certainly hope so, ma’am,” Dean replied, turning on the charm. “I’m Warden Tyler, this is Warden Kramer, I spoke to an Officer Kramer on the phone earlier and—” 

 “Oh, you’re the Fish and Game boys, the ones looking for the swamp monster.”     

“I don’t know that I’d put it quite like—” 

 “Files are over there.” She pointed to a beat-up box sitting on the counter behind her desk. “One of you’s gonna need to sign a receipt for them.”  

 Sam leaned over the desk and signed “Warden J. Kramer” as illegibly as possible while Dean grabbed the box of files. “Can you point us in the direction of the Coroner’s Officer?” 

  --- 

  “Man, I hate the Coroner’s office.” Dean shed his jacket and tie, tossing them carelessly in the direction of the nearest chair before belly-flopping onto his bed. “It’s gonna be a week before I get rid of that smell.” 

 “The body or the Coroner’s assistant?” Sam dropped a stack of folders on the small table next to the door and plopped down on the second bed, kicking his shoes off and breathing a sigh of relief. “What the hell was that cologne he was wearing?” 

 “Ode to dead skunk,” Dean mumbled into his pillow before turning over. “You catch those mark on the bones?” 

 “Yeah.” 

 “Look like any animal you ever seen?” 

 “No.” Sam scooted up on the bed and jammed a pillow under his head before turning to look at Dean. “They looked more like human teeth marks.” 

 “Only pointier.” Dean flashed him a half-hearted smile, all teeth and no humor. 

 “So, something humanoid? Another Wendigo, you think?” 

 “Nah.”  

 “Too far South?” 

 “Too much meat left on the bones.” 

 Sam groaned and rolled over to plant his face in the pillow. “Too much information, man.” 

 Dean sniggered and Sam could hear him getting up and moving around the room followed by the sound of the shower coming on, the familiar sounds lulling him to sleep. 

 “Sam. Sammy, wake up. Pizza’s here.”  

 Sam wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that it was fully dark outside the windows as he rose and crossed over to where Dean had balanced the pizza box across the folders spread out over the table. “You get any sleep?” 

 Dean ignored the question, which Sam took to be a no, and gestured toward the map in front of him. “Looks like whatever it is it’s moving steadily down river.” 

 “You think it’s headed toward the ocean or just trying to spread out its kills to keep the cops from picking up a pattern?” Sam dropped into the second chair and pulled out a piece of pizza.  

 “It’s hard to tell without knowing what it is.” Dean shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “I figured tomorrow you can hit the library and see if you can find any local legends.” 

 “Uh huh. And what’ll you being doing while I’m doing all the research?” Sam asked, a note of challenge in his voice. 

 “I thought I’d go down to the river and see what—” 

 “What? No way, Dean.” 

 “No way what?” Dean looked up at him, confused. 

 “You’re going down to that river alone.”  

 “I—Why the hell not?”  

 “Why the hell not? Dean, people are being eaten!” Sam threw his hands up in frustration and stared at his brother. Jesus, what was so hard to understand about that. 

 “I know how to take care of myself, Sam!” 

 “I didn’t say you couldn’t, but—” 

 “But what, Sam?” Several files slid off the table, scattering their contents as Dean jumped to his feet.  

 “But that’s no reason to take stupid chances.” 

 “Are you calling me stupid?” 

 “Damn it, Dean, stop putting words in my mouth!” Sam returned his brother’s scowl, with interest. “You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Long seconds past as they stared angrily at one another. “Fine, you think it’s so safe to go out there alone, you go to the library and I’ll go out to the—” 

 “The hell you will!”  

 “Why not, Dean? Huh?” Sam asked, stepping up to his brother. “Why is it all right for you to go, but not me?” 

 “I didn’t say—That’s not—Whatever.” Dean turned away and started gathering the fallen pages. “Fine, we’ll both go to the library, Nancy Drew.” 

 “Fine.” Sam dropped back into the chair and stared disinterestedly at his pizza, picking aimlessly at the toppings until he realized that Dean had frozen over something out of the spilled files. “Dean? What is it?” 

 “I—Nothing.” Dean shoved what Sam could now tell was a photograph back into the folder and slammed it shut.  

 “Dean.” Sam leaned forward and pulled the folder out of his brother’s hand and flipped it open. On top lay a picture of a car smashed beyond recognition.  

 “One of the victims was in a car accident a couple months before he was killed and—” Dean gestured awkwardly at the file. “The police station must have gotten that file mixed in with the rest.” 

 “Yeah, I guess.” Sam closed the folder and set it carefully back on the table, an uncomfortable silence settling between them. 

 ---   

Sam held back a sigh as he pulled his boot out the thick mud with a sickening squelch. The library had proved useless, too many tall-tales and legends built up around the river to be any help, at least until they had more information. 

 Which left them slogging through the mud and debris along the river, the air between them still thick and silent in the wake of last night’s argument. 

 “Sam.” Something yellow fluttered on the breeze, flickering in and out of sight between the trees, and Sam followed with a quick nod. 

 Police tape, one end left tied to a tree, marking the site where the last body had been found. 

 Sam ducked beneath a branch and crouched next to where Dean was examining marks in the soft soil. “What are those?” 

 “They look like bird tracks, only bigger.” Dean outlined the print. “Where wasn’t anything about a killer emu in those legends, was there?” 

 “Dude, how do you even know what an emu is?” Sam snorted and bent closer to the tracks. Dean was right, they looked like they’d been made a bird, a really big one. “Thunderbird?” 

 “Nah.” Dean gestured at the thick, intertwined braches over their heads. “No way one would fit in here.” 

 “Then what?” 

 “I don’t know.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and cocked his head to the side. 

 “What?” Sam looked around the clearing and tried to listen for whatever had caught Dean’s attention. 

 “You hear that?” Dean rose slowly, stepping out the clearing and toward the river. 

 “No, man, what?” Sam caught up to him, cocking his own head and listening intently, but only heard the rush of the river. 

 “I—Nothing, I guess. It was just—” Dean shook his head and gazed blankly at Sam for a long moment. “Nothing. We should get back to the room, see if we can find out what Big Bird is up to these days. Big yellow bastard always did creep me out.” 

 ---   

“Anything?” 

 Sam sighed and closed the laptop. “No. There are plenty of legends around here and things that prey on humans, but no birds that I can come up with.” 

 “Something imported?” Dean slid the last piece into the gun he’s been cleaning and looks over to toward the window, frowning. 

 “Maybe, but that leaves the field wide open.” Sam watched his brother for a long moment and tries to put his finger on why the picture in front of him seems wrong, off. There’s an air of distraction around Dean, something other than the pain and grief that’s been clinging to him since the accident. But instead of bringing relief, Sam feels something clench tight and worrisome low in his gut. “Dean, what is it?” 

 “Huh?” Dean turned back to him, the same blank look that he gave Sam down at the river, before shaking his head and smiling. “Just tired, I guess.” 

 “You sure?” 

 Dean shrugged and looked out the window. “Go to bed, Sam.” 

 ---     

A soft rustling brought Sam instantly awake and he rolled quietly to his side, checking the bed next to his for his brother.  

 Empty. 

 He scanned the rest of the room, almost missing the silent figure at the window. “Dean?” 

 Dean turned away from the window and Sam felt his breath catch in his throat at the depth of sorrow reflected back it him before Dean seemed to shake himself out of it. “What’s wrong?” 

 “Nothing, Sammy. Go back to sleep.” 

 “Don’t tell me nothing, man.” Sam rolled out of the bed and crossed to stand next to his brother. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from the river this afternoon. What’s going on?” 

 “I told you, Sam, it’s nothing. I just—” Dean shrugged and looked out the window again. “Let it go, Sam. It’s not important.” 

 “If it’s keeping you up at night, then, yes, it is.” Sam leaned into the window and tilted his head, trying to meet Dean’s eyes. “Dean, what did you hear down at the river?” 

 He shrugged again, still gazing into the night. “Nothing.” 

 “Dean!” 

 “Sam, please, just go back to sleep.” His voice was soft, imploring, and Sam was torn between giving his brother the space he was asking for and the worrying knot in his gut. “I swear, Sam, it’s nothing. Just a weird dream.”  

 “Was it about Dad?” 

 Dean’s head drops forward and Sam holds his breath, silently begging his brother to trust him with this. 

 “No, it was—“ Dean rubs a hand across his face and sighs. “It was Mom, she was singing, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying and—“ He shrugs and looks back out the window. “I woke up.” 

 “Oh.” Sam didn’t have an answer for this, didn’t even know where to start. Mom, her loss, had always been a touchy subject, an unspoken pain shared between Dean and Dad that Sam had never felt the way they had. 

 “Let’s get some sleep.” Dean dropped onto the edge of his bed and rolled away from Sam, burying his face in the pillow. 

 Sam stood, a moment longer, and watched, wondered how you could know someone your entire life and still not know what to say to them. 

 --- 

 Alkonost – Russian/harmless? 

Bennu – Eygptian/benevolent 

Camulatz – Mayan, ate heads 

Harpies – Greek, various myths, angel of death, bringer of death 

Quetzalcoatl – Aztec/too big 

Raven – Native American/Trickster? 

Roc – carried off and ate elephants?? 

Sachamo – Chinese, feeds on bears?/too big 

Simurgh – Persian/benevolent 

Sirin/Siren – Russian/Greek, lure sailors to their deaths with song? 

Swan Maiden – shapershifter/skinwalker? victim in mythology 

Thunderbird – Native American/too big 

Ziz – Talmudic/too big 

 Sam ignored the cramp in his hand and scanned the list of creatures once more. So much for getting more information. It may have narrowed the field some, but not enough to be of any real use. 

 “Find anything?” Dean sat heavily in the chair across from him and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 “Lots of things.” Sam closed the book on Asian mythology and leaned back in his chair. “Too many. Most of them are too big, too small, not known for eating people, not—” 

 “Yeah, yeah, I get the picture.” Dean waved a hand at him, leaning further back in the chair. “We need to talk to the families, see if they can tell us what the victims were doing down at the river in the first place.” 

 “You sure you’re up to this?” Sam already knows what Dean’s answer will be, but he can see the bags under his brother’s eyes, the tired slouch of his body. 

 “I’m fine, Sam. Let it go.” 

 “Right.” Sam shifts through his pile of notes until he finds the list of victims. “You want to start with the most recent ones?” 

 “I already called the mother of the last victim, Katie Tyler.” Dean stood slowly and paused, tilting his head to the right. 

 “And?” 

 “What?” Dean startled, looking at Sam as though he’d forgotten about him. 

 “You called the last victim’s mother?” Sam prompted, gathering his notes and stuffing them in his backpack. 

 “She said it was no problem if we came by.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, eyes drifting toward the nearest window.  

 “Are you sure you’re all right?” That knot Sam had been trying to ignore since he’d woken, to find Dean once more standing at the window gazing out, tightens even more. 

   --- 

 “Is he all right?” 

 Sam looked over his shoulder to where Dean was standing on the sidewalk, a distracted frown on his face, his head once again tilted to the side as if he were listening to something. “I don’t—Why do you ask?” 

 “He just—something about him makes me think of Katie in the days before…” her voice trailed off as they both watched Dean for a moment longer. “It’s probably just my imagination.” 

 Sam nodded  ��

  Will 

Brenna 

Jennie 

Lucy 

[notagreenlantern]

An AU I’m not writing

Seruiously. I am not gonna write this post-apocalyptic AU story. I know I accidentally wrote 3000 words of it tonight. But it’s just a one shot (leaving more questions than it answers, also you mention monsters but they never show up. You kind have to... Shut up). I am not gonna write it. Also, I haven’t worked out how most of this story makes sense. I don’t know why the end of the world led to everyone adopting a 19th century clothing aesthetic except for how that’s been on my mind a lot lately. I do know why electricity isn’t in use anymore in this AU, but I forgot to mention it in the narrative (the monsters are drawn to electricity. Why? Because I the writer didn’t want electricity for plot reasons)... Also I am not writing this story! I haven’t worked out the logic of this universe... I have other things to write... Enjoy this. It’s Guy and Kyle’s first meeting in this world. Warnings for homophobic language from an OC.

The sun was beating down, the air dry, and not a hint of a breeze. It was still midday, sun high in the sky, which meant there was still a lot of time left to find shelter for the night, so if he found water he could probably take a break, he was sweaty, and dusty from the ride, and his horse, a chestnut named Dex,  could use a drink. He could always make camp if he didn't reach another small town, the monsters that stalked the night preferred the ruined cities, and Guy knew how to make a campsite secure enough to catch an hour or two of sleep, it wasn't ideal, but could be done.

He wiped away some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and tipped the stetson further forward over his eyes. His duster was in one of the bags, and he was considering taking off his waist coat as well and only ride in shirt and jeans, but it didn't add that much warmth so he let it be.

His horse's tack clinked a little, but besides that the dull thud of Dex's hooves on the ground, and the occasional rattle of pebbles rolling over the ground, the desert around them was quiet. In the distance there were mountains, and even further away he could make out the ruins of a larger city. The old map he had looked at had indicated that he would be passing what was left of the city of Phoenix. It had been four days since he left the burned down remains of Albuquerque, but he'd been lucky in finding smaller towns along the way, some in secured older buildings from before The Fall, but one brand new little village which had been built on the border between what used to be known as New Mexico and Arizona, now days the border between states had very little meaning. New borders were being drawn all the time, mostly in the north east, the south and the west being left mostly to take care of itself.

An hour later he pulled the reins to stop at the top of a low hilll. Below a large area of dead grass spread out in front of him. The desert had spent the last sixtyor so years reclaiming the old golf course, but it was unwise to ride through it, the grass had grown long before wilting and dying, making it the perfect place for animals to hide in, and with no way of making sure his horse didn't step into a hole and stumble, well, Guy turned the horse north instead. He'd ride around, and then carry on west. He would have to head north anyway eventually.

He continued to ride and soon enough could spot buildings in the distance, most of them new, and Guy suspected it was another new settlement. He was still a kilometer away when he heard the shouting. Urging his horse into a trot instead he rode towards the sounds. Getting closer he saw three people, two of them beating and kicking the third who was on the ground. The monsters might only show up in the dark – Guy thought – but men had no problem being monsters at any time during the day.

He held the reins in one hand, riding closer, the men too busy with their beating to hear him. Guy reached over his shoulder and pulled the rifle from it's sheath. Dropping the reins entierly, he sat down deeper in the saddle, and his horse slowed down. Steadying himself in the stirrups, he lifted the rifle, butt of it against his shoulder he took aim, and fired a warning shot above the shoulder and past one of the men's heads.

The men in front of him spun around. Guy let his horse walk closer, moving the rifle away from his shoulder, but still in a grip so that he could quickly start shooting again.

“What's goin' on here?” Guy asked. He was a couple of feet away when he stopped. The man on the ground was struggling to sit up, but one of the othr men put a heavy boot on the man's chest.

“None of your business,” one of the men said. Taking a step towards Guy, who trained his rifle on the man's chest.

“I'm makin' it my business,” Guy said.

“He's just some worthless faggot,” the man spat. “His kind's an affront to God.”

Guy frowned, and he felt that familiar anger rising, starting with a burning in his gut.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” Guy said, “but God abandoned us a long time ago, and that wasn't because of our ability to love each other.”

The man growled and reached for the holster with his gun.

“Ah ah ha,” Guy said, and moved his rifle a little bit up and down. “I only have to squeeze the trigger and you get to find out whether or not there's a heaven, though I can't see you endin' up there. I suggest you and your friend take off.”

The man glared, and cursed at Guy, but then turned and waved for his friend, and the two got back on their horses and galloped away towards the buildings in the distance. Guy watched them leave, before sliding the rifle back in place and getting off his horse, his own gun belt around his waist jingling when he landed on the ground. He walked over to the man on the ground, who managed to sit up with a grimace of pain on his face. Guy crouched down next to him. The man sported a black eye, a split lip; his shirt was torn, and his torso already showing brusing all over.

“You okay?” Guy asked.

“Yeah, think so,” the man said. “Thanks for the save. They surprised me, I'm usually better at defending myself.”

“just happy to help,” Guy said. “I'm Guy.” he reached out a hand, and the man took it with a smile, and Guy felt his heart skip a beat, the man had a very nice smile, even with a bloody lip.

“Kyle.”

And that was how Guy Gardner met Kyle Rayner. He'd tell that story many times during the years, although he never told the actual real story, always embellishing, exaggerating, or straight up making up shit on the spot. He got particularly inventive whenever Kyle could hear him, because Kyle would smile whenever Guy made up extra outrageous claims – there was a dragon once.

“Well, Kyle,” Guy said. “I assume your horse is still left where they grabbed you?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said with a sigh, before pointing towards the buildings in the distance. “They've settled in the old golf resort over there. Even have a massive wall protecting them.”

“Want me to go get it?” Guy asked. Kyle turned bak to Guy and smiled again, not as wide and close mouthed this time, but there was warmth and surprise in his eyes.

“It's nice of you to offer, but I suspect I might have to move on without her,” Kyle said. “I don't know what they find more offensive, me or you talking about there not being a god.”

“Guess that means you need a lift from me,” Guy said. “Where're you heading?”

“Oh, you can just drop me off at the next settlement,” Kyle said. “I'll get a new horse and be on my way.”

“Sure thing,” Guy said. He turned and whistled, and his horse came over. He dug through one of the bags and pulled out a shirt for Kyle to wear, since his own was in tatters, it was a bit large on him over the shoulders.

Guy sat up, and helped Kyle get up behind him.

They took a detour to get past the golf course settlement, no need to get too close Guy figured, and then headed west again, towards the border to what had once been California.

“So, Guy,” Kyle said, from behind. “Where you from?”

“The north,” Guy said. The signs had all said Baltimore,  but no one ever called it that. Baltimore was a place from the past, a past Guy had never been part of. He was a first gen. One of the kids born after The Fall, too young to know what things had been like before, and old enough that he was starting to see kids born to his own generation. Kids to parents who had never known another life than this one.

“Long way from home,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, well I heard you could make money hunting monsters, so.”

“There are still monsters in the north isn't there?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah, well,” Guy said. “I needed a change of scenery.” He wasn't in the mood to tell Kyle about seeing people he had called friends turn in front of his eyes. What he had left were bad memories, and he had needed to get as far away from them as possible. “Where are you from?” He asked. Changing the subject.

“New LA,” Kyle answered. “It's where I'm heading now actually. Mum's still there, and I've been down in Mexico, looking for my father.”

“You find him?”

“Nah,” Kyle said. “Not a sign of him. Still not sure how I'm gonna tell mum.”

“She'll probably just be happy you're still alive, and not turned into one of the monsters.”

“Yeah, she wasn't exactly thrilled when I said I wanted to be a hunter.”

“You a hunter too?” Guy asked, unable to hide the surprise.

“Yeah, why's that so surprising?” Kyle asked.

“You don't look like it,” Guy said with a shrug.

“Oh, I'm sorry we can't all have biceps larger than our heads,” Kyle said.

Guy lifted the hand not holding the reins, flexing his arm a bit while looking at it with a considerate expression, mouth pursed a little bit.

“Hm,” he muttered. “I don't think they are bigger than my head. Though you are right, they are impressive.” He turned a bit so he could look over his shoulder at Kyle, and grin. Kyle gave him a crooked smile and snorted. Guy laughed.

“We were a group actually,” Kyle said, his tone slightly wistful. “We split up a few months back. Wally wanted to go back to the midwest, Dick went with him. Connor followed me to Mexico, but we parted ways at the border, since I was heading back home, and I don't know where Roy and Donna went off to.”

The carried on riding, talking and even laughing. Guy found himself really enjoying Kyle's company. He'd been mostly alone now for months, and it was nice to have another type of interaction than just ordering drinks or paying for a room.

Eventually though, as the sun started to inch its way lower in the sky, and they were stil surrounded by nothing but desert Guy was starting to wonder if they were going to have to make camp out in the wild. Having Kyle along should make it safer. When Kyle, who had been given Guy's binoculars, exclaimed.

“Hey, there's a barbed wire fence that way.” He pointed to their right, and Guy started to steer them in that direction.

“A farm?” Guy asked.

“Probably,” Kyle said, and returned the binoculars to one of the saddlebags.

It turned out to be a farm. The tall main building located on top of a hill, overlooking the grounds, a dirt road leading up to it from the gate in the fence, a fence which was at least a foot taller than Guy's horse.

“You hunters?” The farmer asked. He was a young man, looked to be at least a few years younger than Guy.

Guy and Kyle stood on the ground, horse between them, behind them was the first gate, which had been easy enough to open and close again behind them, in front of them stood the second gate, which was locked with a heay chain and two large padlocks. The farmer, on the other side of the gate, eyed them suspiciously.

“We are,” Guy said, with a smile. “You been havin' any problems recently?”

“Not recently no,” the farmer said. “So I'm not going to hire you to protect anything. I've got all the protection I need.” He patted the guns he had hanging off his hips, and on his back, much like Guy, he had a rifle.

“We were more interested in a place to sleep,” Guy said.

“And, perhaps if you had a horse to sell,” Kyle said. “Mine got spooked and ran off,” he lied easily, with a smile that if Guy had been on the other side of it, would definitely have managed to convince him of anything.

“We'll see about that,” the farmer muttered. “You can sleep in the barn if  that's okay with you?”

“I've slept in worse places,” Guy said. The farmer frowned.

“I'd need to test you.”

“Of course,” Guy said. Both he and Kyle stuck their hands thrugh the metal slot, for the blood test. It wasn't a  hundred percent sure fire test, but unless someone had recently been bitten, it would prove that they weren't about to turn as soon as darkness fell.

After confirming that both Guy and Kyle were still very much human, and a discussion about payment for the privelige of sleeping in the farmer's stable – all technlogical progress over the past 100 years gone, but money was still an important part in the broken society they lived in, though it had lost its value in some ways, and bartering was once again a huge part of how business worked in many parts of the country – they were allowed through the gate and started walking up the hill.

It was a small farm, besides the main house, and the barn, there were a couple of smaller buildings, two sheds one larger and one smaller, a long, one story building which had been built to house several families who had moved in after The Fall. In the yard a couple of kids played with a kitten, watched over by a teenage boy.

“It was my grandparents place,” the farmer, Mr. Jones, explained. “I never met them, my mum raised me here.”

They continued towards the stable, and between the buildings Guy could see the fields. Only a small portion of the grounds seemed to be used for growing crops.

“We only grow enough to feed ourselves,” Jones explained. “And sometimes we get enough to sell to any of the nearby settlements. Though they tend to have farms closer by.”

The stable wasn't very large either, but there were three horses inside. A massive clydesdale gelding, which completely ignored them as they walked inside, but the two quarter horses, one palomino and one black, eyed them and Guy's horse in particular with curious eyes, and ears perked up. One of them even made a small noise.

Guy took care of his horse, while Kyle explained to Jones how he had also lost all of his belonging when his horse bolted, Jones hadn't seemed entierly convinced by Kyle's lies, but did go to the main house and rustled up a sleeping bag for Kyle.

Guy carried his bags up to the hayloft, and joined Kyle there.

“You do this a lot?” Kyle asked.

“Hm?” Guy looked over at him. “Oh? Crash in some farmer's barn? Yeah, sometimes. In particular if they have had problems. I offer to keep guard of the animals. Can usually catch a bit of a shut eye as well, and since the farmers are more interested in keeping their home and live stock safe they aren't much interested in the money.”

He always tried to split the reward money evenly but most of the time they were so grateful they let him keep all of it. More often than not though, the farmers already had a system in place to protect themselves, and so Guy would just pay to crash in their barn.

“When we were a whole group we could pretty much get a whole night of sleep every other night,” Kyle said. “And Mexico had a lot of underground settlements.”

Guy nodded. The fact that the monsters only showed themselves during the night often meant many sleepless nights of hunting, and of protecting themselves. Having some place secure to sleep every now and again was vital for a continued survival.

Guy brought out the beer he had in his bags, and they drank and ate some of his provisions. They talked late into the night. Kyle telling Guy stories about the group he had travelled with, and about their hunts. Guy told exaggerated stories about hunts he'd done since he came out west. By the time they fell asleep, curled up in their sleeping bags, with the soft noises from the horses below, Guy found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind spending more time with Kyle.

In the morning Kyle convinced the farmer to sell the palomino. Kyle bought it with Guy's money, when his own cash wasn't enough – “I'll pay you back,” Kyle said – and once outside the gates again they both mounted.

“I've been thinking,” Guy said as they let their horses start walking. The sun still rising, and the sky  dull blue-ish pink, the air cool for now.

“I've only known you a day, and that still made me worried,” Kyle said. A teasing smile on his face.

“Shut up,” Guy growled without any heat. “How would you feel about riding together?” Guy asked, not looking at Kyle, but when he didn't answer right away he looked over. Kyle was giving him a scrutinizing look.

“I know you don't prefer riding alone,” Guy said.

“I'm just surprised you don't,” Kyle said. “You seem like you would be the 'lone wolf'-type.”

Guy shrugged, and didn't answer. Instead he looked away from Kyle.

He kind of was a lone wolf, at least ever since he came out here, but he liked Kyle. It had been easy to talk, and to laugh with someone again. He had missed that. Had missed having a friend.

“Sure,” Kyle said. Guy looked over at Kyle, who gave him a small smile. “If you're willing to go with me to New LA first.”

“Sure, I've never been.”

“You haven't missed much,” Kyle said. “It's a dump.”

“The whole world is a dump,” Guy pointed out, which made Kyle laugh.

Guy smiled – yes, this would work – the thought.

[dr-fumbles-mcstupid]

avengers rec list mostly Tony/Steve centric

so I have had this massive avengers fic rec list on my dreamwidth for years, but dreamwidth is a dead space so I figured Ishould post it on tumblr.

First some helpful links.

A history of marvel comics that has to do with tony and steve

Slashy moments in comics list

A tony/steve ship manifesto that summarizes a lot of major arcs that deal with tony and steve

An Issue by Issue Guide to The Avengers for The Iron Man / Captain America and Ficcing Fan They rate comics by content relevant to tony and steve

An iron man centric reading list starting from disassembled all the way through siege

A rec list sorted by universe

A second tony/steve rec list sorted by rating and length

and without further ado, the rec list, sorted by universe. Anything with a star by it is something i really enjoyed

link to the 616 universe rec list 

Link to the Ultimates rec list

Link to Marvel Adventures + Vids rec list

MCU

Armed and dangerous series

(Now with podfic for the first story by me)

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Bucky/Tony later Bucky/Tony/Steve

summary: Bucky wakes up. Tony takes a liking to him. Steve frowns a lot. Also, there is some Avenging going on. And tech porn.

my notes: The first story is short and sweet and the second one is long and plotty, overall a very good read.

Be No Stranger (All Your Saints and Soldiers Remix)

(Podficbu Fire_Juggler and Paraka)

Universe:MCU

Pairing:Steve/Tony

Summary: That's the twenty-first century love song, baby. Glitz and glamour and every one of us is a liar.

Bedtime stories

Universe: MCU

Pairing:Steve/Tony

Summary: a series of Not!Fics focusing on steve and Tony's adopted son

My notes: short and sweet, some are hilarious and others a little bit heart breaking.

Bruce and Tony Accidentally Kill Tom Riddle, for SCIENCE! ... Er, Magic

(with podfic by adistantsun)

Universe: MCU HP fusion

Pairing: bruce/tony

Summary: Slytherin Tony and Ravenclaw Bruce are assigned to be Potions lab partners in 7th year. They just want to win Slughorn's prize, but things get very strange, very quickly. And Tom Riddle sucks.

My notes: a super adorable and fun fic.

Dreaming electric

Pairing: pepper/tony, tony/steve

Universe: MCU with inspiration from 616

Summary: New York City is still rebuilding in the wake of the Chitauri army when the biotech virus Extremis is released, upgrading a lone domestic terrorist into a posthuman threat. Tony would’ve been happy to keep going on playing with alien tech in his lab, saving average citizens as Iron Man, and pretending not to notice these other people moving into his tower, but sometimes a person just can’t have nice things.

My notes: a really good update of the extremis arc for movi everse. Also Bruce and Tony talk bout D&D and that is awesome

Drinking games

Universe:MCU

Pairing: Peter/Tony,  Tony/Steve UST

Summary:  "Okay, house rules,” Clint said, leaning back against the backrest of the booth they were seated at. “It can't be a random celebrity, or something. It has to be someone you actually know. Someone you'd go to if you suddenly found yourself gay and then had to have sex right away."

Steve thinks drinking with the team will be a good bonding session for their newest Avenger, but, as usually happens with his people and alcohol, things go kinda sideways.

My notes: super hilarious, kept me smiling the whole time

First impressions ( are a work in progress)

Universe: MCU

pairing:steve/tony

Summary: Howard had wanted Tony to be more like Steve, which only adds to the tension between Tony and Steve as the team comes together. Tony enjoys pushing Steve's buttons in order to make him seem less perfect. Eventually, though, they start working things out. There's a nice slow build to the relationship, and both Tony and Steve are well-characterized. This was published just pre-movie, so some things aren't totally in line, but it's excellent

My notes: a good story that takes our boys from atagonistic to friends and more!

Free floating in space

Universe: MCU AU

Pairing:Steve/Tony

Summary: Tony runs a small salvaging business in the backwater territory of Outer Centaurus. When scavenging a long abandoned space station leads to an unexpected find, it begins a long journey for Tony, Steve, and the rest of the Iron Bird crew as they stand on the edge of war.

Ironsides

(with podfic by exmanhater)

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Summary: Antonia Carter Stark takes no shit and no prisoners.

My notes: Girl!Tony is one of my favorite things in the whole world and this story just really nails it!

Just a broken lullaby

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Gen or pre-slash

Summary:  When a mission goes wrong, the Avengers find themselves the unlikely guardians of a six-year-old Tony Stark.

My notes: a really good team fic. I especially love the way Natasha is portrayed

The Last Love Song of Anthony E. Stark

Universe:MCU

Pairing:Steve/Tony

Summary: After contracting an Asgardian virus, Tony starts forgetting things. And people. And Steve.

My notes: lets just say this one is so good it made me like established relationship fic. It also really flushes out the world of asguard, plus distressed/ sick tony is the best!

many names in history, none of them are ours

Universe:MCU

Pairing:steve/tony

Summary: Steve's not sure if he'll ever understand Tony Stark, but it's good, living here. If he still wakes up sometimes convinced this was all a dream, well, it's better than it was before, and that's something, isn't it?

The Avengers live in a world that both glorifies and fears them, but they know each other now behind the scenes.

The modern world is awesome and so are you

Univers:MCU

Pairing:gen with hints of tony/steve

Summary:When Steve wakes up, SHIELD wants him to spend some time talking to therapists and visit some doctors and acclimate him slowly back into the world in the healthiest manner possible. They're waiting to introduce him to the modern world until they're certain he's stable.

Tony thinks it's taking too long and is boring and he just really wants to show Steve all the cool shit he's missed out on.

My notes:  Short awesome fluff

One foot in and one foot back Universe:MCU Pairing: Steve/tony Summary:This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to Tony, but it's in the top five. or the one where tony and steve imprint on each other, and nothing is ever easy for tony My notes: an awesome take on the soulbonding thing. Steve sees it as something magical and tony sees it as a defect. Lots of angsty along with some fluff!

Paparazo

(now with podfic by opalsong!)

Universe:MCU

Pairing:Peter (old spiderman movies)/Tony

Summary:So, Iron Man apparently needed better surge protection in his suit. He was falling, straight out of the sky into the middle of Manhattan, and Peter could only hope--only hope--only shoot his web and yeah, his aim was true, and yeah, Iron Man bounced as lightly as a golf club on a windscreen, but the webbing held. Peter fired again, snaring Iron Man and easing him to the ground as strand after strand of web broke in a beautiful display of applied physics.

They landed in an alley between two buildings. "Are you okay?"

My notes: adorable and lots of fun

Put My Guns in the Ground (I Can't Shoot Them Anymore)

series

Universe: MCU

Pairing: steve/tony

Summary: There's no magic answer, no single moment of catharsis that will make it all go away, so all you can do is keep walking and make it work.

My notes: a two part series one story from Tony's POV and one from Steve's. tony's Story deals with his PTSD from afghanistan and Steve's deals with his adjustment to the modern world. The story is pitch perfect and I love it. Even though it is dealing with PTSD it doesn't get too dark, it stays light in tone and has a sweet happy ending.

tales of the bots series

(now with podfic by reenajenkins!)

Universe:MCU

Pairing:Tony/Steve

Summary: When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

My notes: super adorable and fluffy but with angst and ahsjslsjsj! You will have lots of feels.

Raw footage

(With podfic by kalakyria)

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Gen

Summary: “Clint Barton has sent me a photograph of his glory,” Thor said, and handed Natasha his phone. Quirking an eyebrow, she glanced at it. “This is a courting custom?”

My notes: Glorious crack!

Red, red, gold

with podfic by ironyman

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Summary: Her name is Tasha Stark, and you won't break her.

The road to hell

Universe:MCU

Pairing: Steve/tony

Summary: in which no one has super powers and Steve is Tony's PA after Pepper gets promoted

My notes: super ridiculous and adorable.

Running to keep in the same place

(with Podfic by recordscratch)

universe: MCU

Pairing:gen

Summary: Tony's the only one of them who has to wrangle two jobs and he's rapidly running of time for, like, everything.

My notes: a short sweet Hurt Comfort story where Tony is overworking himself and steve and bruce step in to help.

The Spaces (Silences) Between

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Summary: A sudden accident leaves Tony unable to speak.

My notes: a wonderful piece, you can really feel tony's frustration and Steve's heartache.

Tech support

Universe:MCU

Pairing:Gen

Summary: (Kind of AU in which Stark Industries doesn't exist (anymore) and S.H.I.E.L.D. is akin to MI6); Pre-slash Tony Stark's day job is resident genius. Since he has an entire computer system into himself as a remote operating system, his other day job is running S.H.I.E.L.D.'s R&D with Dr. Banner (BROS 4EVA), trying to make Director Fury cry (close, but no cigar) and flirting with All the Agents, All the Time. Agent Iceberg (AKA Super-perfect Super-soldier Double-Oh-Awesome Agent Rogers) is immune to many things, apparently, and Tony is one of them.

My notes: the beginning of a really awesome AU, just a snippet into the life, I really wish there was more.

This Wasn't What the Brochure Promised

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Summary: "Do you think this is still a training exercise, or did we just get our asses handed to us by actual bad guys?" asked Clint.

Tony, Steve, Clint and Bruce spend quality time together in a cave. Tony does not build another arc reactor (even if he sort of needs one). Steve is all Protective Leader. Clint is terrifyingly good with a knife. Bruce bleeds and snarks. There is banter and embarassing amounts of schmoop and the boys get very touchy-feely.

Turn Around (Three Times Before Lying Down)

Pairing: tony/steve

Universe: MCU AU

Summary:  Everyone knows that Tony Stark is a playboy, billionaire philanthropist, but what they don’t know is that he’s also a werewolf. When a government agency known as SHIELD finds out, they use this information to force Tony’s hand and bring him into a new elite lycan field team, codename The Avengers Initiative.

Suddenly Tony finds himself playing host to a bunch of lycans, a misplaced God of Thunder and an experimental supersoldier that isn’t as dead as everyone assumed. Can his week get any worse?

My notes: the relationship feels a little rushed, but the story has a plot beyond werewolf fic and has a lot of found family feels.

Two is the one for mel

Universe: MCU

Pairing: Tasha/Tony/Steve

Summary: What my darling brother means is that he’d like a threesome. Or the one where tony has a twin sister and they both like steve.

My notes: hot and sweet. A fun short series. I really like the dynamic between the three of them

Weighing of the heart

Universe:MCU

Pairing:tony/steve

Summary: Steve Rogers hasn't really had a particularly easy life. He's struggled along, he's proud of himself, he's self-sufficient and capable and he works damn hard. He has friends and a purpose and he's only a few semesters from graduating college. He's managed, but his life has been far from easy. That's mostly because of a slight filing error. The last thing that Steve needed was someone to watch over him. The only thing that his Guardian Angel needs is a second chance to make a first impression.

My notes: super adorable, and hilarious in turns. Sometimes slightly heartbreaking. A wonderful ride that left me smiling all day.