#without the uh. gestures at one million spoilers. all that. yet.

[alien-enjoyer]

up to the end of part 28 spoilers:

YELLOW YOU BASTARD !!!! GET OUT OF THAT FUCKERS HEAD !!! BRO JUMPED SHIP?? IS THERE 3 VERSIONS OF THE KING RUNNING AROUND NOW?? THE KING, JOHN, AND YELLOW?? i figured i hadnt seen the last of yellow but like., that is the worst possible outcome their luck continues to be SO SO SO SHIT !!! jaw on the floor

john wtf did you deal with kayne about. i heard you, while you were sewing up arthur (hello. hello.). which is odd, because generally it’s been implied that we’re getting this story from arthur’s pov. did arthur hear that and pretend he didnt? he’s not above that sort of thing. but i dont think so. i think it’s a bending of the rules for the sake of dramatic irony. in-text that seems like the sort of thing kayne would/could change, it was taken from john’s pov not kayne’s but we.,.., dont know how powerful kayne is. more than john, definitely, for right now. more than the king, maybe. maybe i’m reading too much into it, too used to my pov being an actual presence in the narrative (thanks tma/tmagp), not allowing for the flexibility.

arthur is so traumatised someone tell him a proper meal is not a single apple and a loaf of bread eaten several hours apart. and also murder is. not ok but that one was understandable.

anywya is john the one fully driving cars now, since he has control of the right foot since the island. they havent mentioned that since it happened. the hand yes, that makes sense, hands are more practical. but not the foot. and like, the control. john says he has the left elbow down, full control of that forearm and hand, able to bend the elbow. but when he gets the foot, arthur complains of numbness in his right leg and john just says “i can wriggle the toes” LIKE. thats NOT descriptive. the ankle? the rest of the leg?? come on dude use those adjectives you have so many of. please. and the eyes! the eyes. just the eyes? implied to not include the eyelids. arthur is blinking but if he cant feel his eyes how does he know when to blink? this is my stupid logic brain at it again. a curse and a blessing, i live like this.

erm design note i think. if i ever do fanart. yellow and john should be represented by slightly different shades of yellow. i love the colour yellow i dont get many blorbos that are yellow themed this is a treat. anyway someone should be a ., pale yellow. bright but not saturated. and the other should be saturated. i havent decided which is which though theres pros and cons colour theory and symbolism wise like john is supposed to be the . friend. i paused for a long time there. and generally brighter more saturated yellows are the friendlier colour… but he’s also the guide. the shining light - shouldnt he be the lightest? the sun? and also on like a grander scale, the lighter the colour the more ‘holy’. which would work either way, for either of them. depending on your opinion of who’s more holy. and bright yellow, if you stare at it for too long like any saturated colour you’ll get eyestrain and that’s closer to madness…

then again there’s an appeal to using the same yellow for all of them - john, yellow, the king in yellow. a fucked up appeal, but it’s there.

anyway. i might break again for the night. i did in fact sleep soundly so soundly i woke up at midday and somehow forgot to have lunch. i’ll start season 4 tomorrow. maybe some of these wuestions will be answered and others not.

started malevolent last night and im on episode 5. decided it should actually be called ‘arthur and john’s terrible horrible no good very bad horror/mystery point and click game’

[despairots]

━━━━━━━━ in another another dimension.

1610! miles morales x gn! spiderman! reader x 42! miles morales. angst, and sorta fluff?? also spoilers if u havent seen the movie yet, shit writing since i havent wrote in a long time 👎

where miles morales was your boyfriend and died in your dimension ‘cause you couldn’t save him in time after he was pushed off a building. where earth 1610 & earth 42, you’re dead ‘cause you got pushed off a building.

you couldn’t save him in time. by the time you saw his figure disappear from the ledge of the building, you were already frozen in spot, seeing as if the love of your life was gonna die and it was because of you.

even though you caught him by the chest with one of your webs, the recoil already impacted his head and back, causing him to die. you couldn’t apologize to him after the argument you two had.

“miles… i am so sorry. please wake up. wake the fuck up, miles! this isn’t funny. please tell me i’m dreaming, please tell me you’ll wake me up from a nightmare like before. please, i can’t lose you too…”

he always would wake you up and comfort you after a nightmare, he wouldn’t do that anymore. he would always whisper sweet things in your ear that always made you blush, he wouldn’t do that anymore.

nothing that was only exchanged between the two of you wouldn’t happen anymore, nothing. it was meaningless to you, you missed him. it was obvious to everyone.

your parents, friends, miles’s parents, classmates, teachers, schoolmates. they all knew how much you cherished eachother, how much you couldn’t keep living without eachother.

when he needed you the most, you weren’t there. you weren’t able to save him in time. maybe you could this time, saving him from a hundred other spider people.

EARLIER.

“this your friend, gwen?” a familiar voice was heard behind you making you quickly turn around, your spider sense going off. “miles?” “[name]?” the two of you spoke at the same time, jaw dropped and eyes widened.

“this was the surprise you meant, gwen.” all guilt that you thought you buried long time ago was to much to handle when you saw him, the same beauty that he had when you he died in your universe.

you couldn’t help but hug him tightly, face buried into his chest, he was always taller then you. miles jumped a little bit before hugging you back, his face buried on top of your hair.

you were restraining yourself for crying, small sniffles came from you as you could see gwen lightly smiling at the two of you. embarrassment was the only thing that made you pull away.

“sorry! i— um, have a miles morales in my dimension b - but he died.” you stumbled upon your words, blush on your cheek as miles blinked at you. “it’s fine. i have a you in my dimension but they — uh, died.”

miles nervously chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. it was awkward between the two of you, completely embarrassed that you hugged eachother even though you technically knew eachother too.

when you think about it, maybe you could save him this time… from millions of spider people and being thrown to his earth with him.

EARTH ???.

miles told you to wait in the living to talk to his mother, brooklyn was totally wrecked on his earth. spiderman was gone for just two days or maybe more and brooklyn looked like hell.

it didn’t feel right, you felt uneasy. it felt to surreal, to unrealistic in your opinion. you turned invisible when you saw mrs. morales, miles’ mother, walk out of his room, laughing.

he tried speaking to her before getting cut off by glitching, scaring you. ‘he’s in the wrong dimension.’ miles and you shared a look, signifying the look of terror.

‘the spider that bit him… it wasn’t from his dimension. miguel was right… he was never meant to be spiderman.’ the door creaked open, revealing the man who thought had died in miles’ dimension.

the two chattered, his uncle taking him to the roof as miles looked at you and gestured to follow him. it was shocking, to say the least, watching the two look at a mural.

your eyes widened at the art, instead of miles’ uncle dead, it was his dad and you. until then, you realized, you were always going to die in ever dimension but yours.

no matter how many times, no matter how many dimensions, the universes were working together to stop you and miles from every getting together.

that’s why miles died in yours, you dying in miles, and you dying in this world too. the universes never wanted you two to get together, maybe it was because of the saying:

in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spiderman.

you were too lost in thought that you didn’t realize miles was knocked out until your spider senses tingled, reflexes making you dodged the incoming punch.

your hood (from your black sweater that you wore over your suit) flipped off, revealing the tight frown and scowl on your face. “what the f— miles…” you whispered the last part, seeing him on the floor.

something was poked into your neck, injecting you with something and forced you to sleep. losing authority over your body, you fell to the ground, unbothered by it.

your body didn’t touch the ground, that’s the thing, someone caught you in time. they cradled you softly in their arms, watching your eyes blink in and out if reality before completely closing.

aaron scoffed at his nephew, “that’s not the [name] you knew, they ain’t yours.” his nephew mumbled a yes, watching you sleep with the beauty you still had when you died.

your fingers were twitching, a small habit that you always had when sleeping. he missed you, he missed you so damn much.

and when he saw your face when your hood flipped over, he felt like he got a second chance to be with you.

but when he looked over at the other miles that was over his uncle’s shoulder, he felt hatred. he didn’t want to risk you to his other counterpart, he didn’t want to lose you, again.

and that was the same feeling 1610 miles felt, he didn’t want to lose you again. and for sure, you felt that way too.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

the ghost of unbroken love pt 1

Summary: Thomas pays the Carstairs home a visit once the dust has settled (COI spoilers!)

Read it on AO3 | Fanfiction Masterlist

CW: PTSD, implied child abuse, bullying

thanks to @littlx-songbxrd for the title :) (it’s a line from “silhouettes” by sleeping at last)

Alastair’s eyes widened in surprise when he opened the front door to see Thomas Lightwood standing before him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hello to you, too,” he replied, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Alastair’s hands. “Why do you have a hedgehog?” 

He turned away slightly, gently stroking the hedgehog in his palm. “Excuse you, don’t be rude to Alfred.” 

Thomas gave a slight smile. “My apologies, Alfred. Wait- Isn’t that Christopher’s hedgehog?” 

Alastair’s eyes flared, clearly offended. “He is not! He was merely watching him for a few days.” 

“Ah, I do think he mentioned that. My mistake.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.” 

“Since when do you have a pet hedgehog, though?” 

He tried to focus on the feeling of Alfred squirming in his palms and not on the tall, handsome masterpiece of a man standing before him, or on the memory of what his lips and skin tasted like. “If you’re here to try to change my mind-” 

“I’m not, don’t worry. I just… I thought that perhaps we could talk, now that some of the excitement has passed.” 

Alastair sighed. “Fine, come in, then, before you freeze.” 

Thomas followed him in, shaking some of the melting ice and snow from his hair and hanging up his coat. His nose and ears were red from the cold. 

“It truly would not kill you to wear a hat, you know,” Alastair commented. 

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve a reputation to uphold, don’t I? What would my friends and I be known for if not our aversion to hats?” 

“Besides being a nuisance, you mean?” 

Thomas smirked. “Kit did look after Alfred for you.” 

“Believe me, any time I mention you and your Merry boys, I never mean Christopher.” 

He chuckled. “That’s fair.” Thomas’ eyes drifted to the piano. Alastair cursed silently to himself, realizing that he’d left the fallboard open earlier. “You play?” 

“I…” Alastair hesitated. He certainly used to. He wanted to, again. He could play music from a sheet without much effort, though he was still rusty, but playing written music was never what Alastair had enjoyed about playing. He’d always found his joy in creating, in taking written words and crafting it into a beautiful melody. That had been what he was attempting earlier, before he’d gotten overwhelmed and abandoned the project to fetch Alfred to calm him down, before Thomas had arrived at his doorstep. But it was a lost cause, for the part of Alastair that created, the part that dreamed, had died long ago. “Sometimes. Sometimes I do.” 

Thomas pulled something out of his coat. “I, uh, I brought you something. I thought… Well, I’m not sure what I thought. I’m certainly not an expert in dealing with grief. But this is one of the books I read after Barbara died, and I thought it was a helpful distraction, and I figured at the very least you could amuse yourself with my trying to make sense of it all in the margins.” 

Alastair gave him a small smile while placing Alfred down on the sofa and accepted the book. It was a volume of Sufi poetry, written in Farsi and Arabic. “Thank you, this… it means a lot.” 

The conversation stumbled awkwardly for the next few minutes until finally Thomas made a pensive noise. “May I… May I ask you something?” 

Alastair paused. “You may.” 

“Why are you still friends with them?” 

Alastair cast a dark gaze away from him. “I already told you, I-” 

“You have no friends, I know. But you certainly pretend to be friendly with them, at the very least. You certainly don’t treat them anything like the way we’ve treated you.” 

You don’t treat them anything like the way you’ve treated me, he wanted to say, but he knew that he would be deflecting to bring it up now. The truth was that Alastair asked himself the same questions. Why was he civil with them, friendly even? Why did he placate his father knowing how he would still treat him? He was sure he could see the wheels turning in Thomas’ brain, though his face betrayed none of it, wondering how badly they could have truly treated him if he was able to stay so amicable with them. Alastair, too, often worried if his own memories were lying to him, tricking him. “I can hardly blame them, can I? When I myself have done horrible things?” 

Thomas hesitated. “That- That’s not really fair, is it?” 

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

“Well, it sounded like, at the time, you hadn’t done anything yet. At least, not to them.” 

“What’s it matter? What goes around comes around.” 

“More like what comes around goes around. Life isn’t just some twisted justice system, paying for crimes you hadn’t yet committed. What reasons did they have for treating you the way they did? Have they apologized?” Alastair’s brain stalled as Thomas added, “Do you think they owe you one?” 

Alastair could feel his heart beating, blood rushing to his head, his chest constricting. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded a little too forcefully. “I told you to leave me alone!” 

Thomas took a daring step towards him. “I think you think you deserved it. You think that you’re a monster, that you’re dangerous, a terrible person. You think that means they were justified in hurting you. That’s bullshit, Alastair. No one deserves to go through what you did, even someone who is terrible, and you are not. You’ve done bad things, certainly, but you’ve had reasons for doing each of them, and not one was that you are a terrible person. You are none of the things that you call yourself. You are strong and resilient and compassionate, and you love with your whole heart even those who do not deserve it.” 

Alastair took a step back. “You’re wrong.” He wasn’t. Alastair hated feeling so seen, so vulnerable. He wanted to scream. Why wasn’t it enough, then? His love was never enough to make his father want to change, to get better. It was not even enough to get him to stop throwing things at him whenever the night quit going his way. His love was not enough to make Charles love him back. Even the boys at the Academy, Augustus and the rest, he’d spent so much time and energy trying desperately for them to genuinely like him, but it was never enough. He was fairly certain that it never would be. Thomas was wrong, Alastair was none of the things Thomas believed him to be, he was weak and pathetic and whatever love he held inside of him was broken at its core. “You ask me why I treat the boys from school better than you treated me, but why do you? You and your friends have never given them a fraction of the grief you’ve given me, even Augustus after he hurt your sister so terribly. Why?” 

Alastair could see the defenses light behind Thomas’ eyes. “Don’t talk about Eugenia as if you know what happened!” 

Alastair looked him in the eyes without a hint of expression on his face. “I do, and I know because she told me.” 

Thomas stumbled on his words, unsure of how to respond. 

“I told you why I was cruel to you lot at school, but I did not tell you why I spread that rumor. The truth is that I was hurting and I was scared and all I wanted was for you to leave me alone, but you wouldn’t. And then Matthew came, running his mouth with his endless nonsense, poking fun at the way I looked and reminding me yet again that there is not a single person on this Earth who sees me as anything more than an afterthought. And so I repeated that rumor to him. And I repeated it again, and again, because I was angry, because when Matthew blew up my belongings, my father decided that the cost to replace them was more than simply the coinage at the shops.” Alastair inhaled, pushing away the memory of the fury in his father’s eyes when he came home that semester. 

Releasing a shaky breath, Alastair continued, “And I know. I know that wasn’t fair to him, or to you, or to your parents. But I have been trying to apologize for five months, only you decided without even hearing my apology that I did not deserve forgiveness. What now, Thomas? Now that you know my secrets, you’ve seen my scars? Do I deserve forgiveness? Do I deserve to be hated? Because truly I cannot keep track.” He gestured to the door, his voice now angry. “Who are you to decide what is deserved and undeserved? You do not get to come here and pretend like you understand me or my life. You and your friends think that you’re better than everyone else, but I have a secret for you: you are not morally superior simply because you are less broken than the rest of us. Get out of my house.” 

“Alastair-” Thomas tried, but he was cut off. 

“Leave, Thomas. And put me out of your mind. I left Charles because I did not wish to be his secret, and I will not be yours, either.” 

Thomas looked like he was about to speak, but stopped himself. He looked hurt and confused, something like a wounded puppy. Alastair would not flinch. Finally, he obliged, though he turned at the last moment. “I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice, though not ingenuine. Alastair shut and bolted the door without responding. 

Once the door was secure, Alastair sank to his knees, a million thoughts and feelings flooding his brain, from relief to anger to utter despair. Shaky breath after shaky breath, he attempted to piece the world back together again.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added and, if so, whether for every TLH fic I write or just for this series or something else): @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs 

[hookingminor]

three lessons - mat barzal

a/n: new series idea I just had, spoiler there is filth and the next parts will be as well also im not the best at writing smut so you’ll have to bear with me here. anyway! let me know what you think! comments/thoughts are always appreciated! also, I know it briefly mentions being the younger sister of a teammate, but I know nothing about the isles so its literally just for plot purposes don’t expect much from that and this isn’t proofread sorry

word count: 4.2k

summary: you’re tired of being a virgin, so you hit up Mat to help you with your problem and strike a deal

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

PART TWO

-

This was by far the worst idea you’ve ever had.

In your twenty-one years of life, you’ve never had a worse idea. Your initial plan was crazy in and of itself, but adding Mat to the mix? It’s like you were asking to get your ass kicked.

The original thought came to you a year ago when you were sitting on the couch of your friend’s apartment, four glasses of wine into the night. She was complaining about her latest hookup, raging over the fact that he didn’t know where the clit was.

This is how it usually went between you two.

She was the one who got all the guys, the one who could pick up anyone from the bar and spend the night in a stranger’s bed without a second thought. You, however, were the wingwoman, the person who was left behind when your friend eventually decided to leave with a man.

It didn’t bother you that much. It’s not like you felt like you needed a boyfriend, you were secure in almost all aspects of your life, but the nagging thought in the back of your mind kept saying that you needed to get fucked. And soon.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream or the fact that you hadn’t masturbated in nearly two weeks, but you rolled your eyes at your friend before you finally snapped.

“At least you’ve had someone to fuck the past few months! Be grateful you’re not me and still a virgin at twenty!” You shouted, fed up with hearing stories about how your friend’s sex life was so terrible. At least she had a sex life to begin with.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you apologized quickly, bringing your hand to cover your mouth in shock, “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s hard listening to you talk about this when I can’t contribute to the conversation.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry for always talking about it,” your friend said, eyes softening when she heard how regretful you sounded, “How about we change the subject?”

She didn’t wait for your response before launching into a monologue about how classes were going and her upcoming finals. You tried listening to her, but your mind was still stuck on the previous topic. Of course it was unfortunate that you happened to be twenty and with no sexual experience, but it didn’t bother you before like it was bothering you right now.

Ideas began racing through your head of how you could rectify this, and that’s when the seed was planted.

Now, almost a year later, your carefully thought out plan was almost complete; though, ‘carefully’ could be more loosely translated to ‘reckless.’

You paced outside of Mat’s door, walking back and forth as you fiddled with your hands, working up the courage to knock. This was such a bad idea. You brought your hand up to the door, pausing before your fist made contact before bringing it back down and resuming your pacing.

After another five minutes of deep contemplation, you made your decision. You knocked on the door before you could second guess yourself, now bringing your hands to tug at the strands of your hair.

The few seconds it took for Mat to answer the door felt like a lifetime, and when he opened the door, you were met with a confused look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, peeking his head out of the door to glance down the hallway.

“Hi, I know you weren’t expecting me and you have to leave for practice soon, but I needed to talk to you about something,” you explained quickly.

Mat’s brows stayed furrowed in confusion, but he opened the door further to let you inside.

“Firstly, I just wanted to say that Anders doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d really appreciate it if you never mentioned it to him,” you said as he closed the door behind you.

Mat ushered you into his living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch as he crossed his arms and waited for you to continue.

“This is going to sound absolutely crazy and you’re probably going to reject me but just hear me out,” you said, taking a deep sigh. He was totally going to shut you down, but there was no turning back now.

“I wanted to ask you if you’d have sex with me. You’d be doing me a favor as my friend. I’m kind of… a virgin… and I really don’t want to be anymore,” you took a breath to watch his reaction which was unreadable, “You’re probably thinking it’s a terrible idea, being that I’m Anders’s sister and everything, but I promise I won’t say anything to him. I just want to get a little experience under my belt… it’s kind of embarrassing. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you’d give me a few lessons or something.”

You raised your eyes to meet Mat’s as you finished your rant, worrying about what he was going to say. A long silence fell between you two as he processed what you said.

“Uh… I don’t really know what to say,” he started awkwardly, bringing his hand to rub at the back of his neck, “I’m honored, I guess? That you asked me to help, but I’m just a little confused since we don’t really know each other.”

Okay, you could give him that. It was true that you weren’t the closest of friends, but you’d met on a handful occasions. It’s not like you were complete strangers, but other than knowing what you were studying in school and that you were Anders’s much younger sister, he didn’t know much about you.

“That’s fair,” you said, “I asked you because, well, you’re obviously hot which I’m sure you know. Also, not knowing each other is what makes this perfect. I’m not attached to you in any way and vice versa. Honestly? You’re one of the few guys in town that I feel comfortable around, so it was either ask you or find a random Tinder hookup and have to do this speech all over again but ten times as awkward.”

Mat didn’t like the last part of that explanation: the whole ‘random Tinder hookup to take your virginity’ part. He may not have known you that well, but he knew you were a nice girl and deserved to be more than just a notch on the bedpost of someone who didn’t care about you.

“I know you’re probably thinking I’m insane, and I get it. I felt a little insane when I thought about this too. But I really feel like you’re the best option. I understand if you think it’s too weird, though,” you said when he hadn’t replied. Your eyes watched him as he sat still as a rock across from you.

“I… I have to leave for practice soon,” was the only thing he responded with.

You felt your heart drop at his statement. Of course he was going to say no, you were an idiot for even trying.

“Yeah, totally, I’ll get going,” you said quickly, gathering your stuff and making your way to the entrance.

When you reached the door, you turned back one last time to see him still in the same position.

“Can you not tell Anders, please? I know this was a crazy, stupid idea but… just don’t tell him, okay? He doesn’t need to know about my sex… well, lack of sex life,” you added before shutting the door behind you.

-

Mat had lost his mind.

Truly and honestly, he had lost his mind if he was even considering your proposition. Which he was. He was really considering your proposition, and he wanted to punch himself for it.

He couldn’t possibly agree to this, could he? You were the captain’s younger sister. Sure, you two weren’t the closest of siblings, but the code still applied. And the code clearly said he was not allowed to fraternize with relatives of his teammates in any way. He hadn’t broken this rule yet, and he couldn’t believe he was even thinking about breaking it now.

Inside his head, he weighed the pros and the cons of sleeping with you. Well, teaching you would be a better phrase. If Mat was being honest, he had blacked out after the terms ‘virgin’ and ‘have sex with me’ fell from your lips. He watched you from his spot on the couch, his eyes following your mouth but not processing the words you were saying. Truthfully, he ran over the conversation a million times in his head and he wasn’t sure he was actually processing them now.

You wanted him to take your virginity. You wanted him to give you experience. You called them lessons.

You were, quite literally, asking him to be your sex tutor.

When you left the apartment, he did what he did best. He compartmentalized. Instead of thinking about the awkward conversation he just had with you, he pushed all thoughts of you from his mind and went to practice. For a whole three hours he focused on hockey. He even had the courage to look at his captain despite the weird interaction he’d just had with his sister.

But then practice was over, and Mat was left with nothing to do but think about what you said. Thinking turned into contemplating, and contemplating eventually turned into pulling up your Instagram page.

Mat typed and retyped the message a million times, deleting it before he could accidentally pressed send. He went back and forth between wanting to say yes and throwing his phone as far away from him so he wouldn’t be tempted.

What could be the worst thing that happened? He thought.

A million bad things could happen. He knew this deep in his heart that it was, for all intents and purposes, the worst idea ever to teach his captain’s sister how to have sex, but his head and desire to get laid had other plans.

So, he picked up his phone one last time and composed the same message he’d written a hundred times.

to @yourusername: does your offer still stand? text me 212-203-3849

-

For the second time in a week, you were pacing outside of Mat’s apartment. You’d received his message almost six days ago, and now here you were.

Your chest nearly collapsed with relief when you’d seen he wanted to take you up on your offer. And then your stomach filled with butterflies, nerves wracking your body as you now had an official plan to lose your virginity.

You eagerly liked the message, dialing his number in your phone so you could hash out the details over text. He promised you two would go over some ground rules in person, saying it felt too weird to have a written contract or something over text. You agreed to his plans and set a date to go over to his apartment that following weekend.

Feeling more courageous than you did a week ago, you knocked on the door with confidence this time. If you were going to lose your virginity tonight, you weren’t going to look like a frightened kitten when you did.

Mat greeted you with a warm smile this time, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. Same as last time, he ushered you into his apartment and directed you towards his couch.

“Do you want anything to drink? I was about to open a bottle of wine,” Mat asked, already moving to the kitchen.

“Yeah, wine would be great. Thanks,” you replied, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

Mat tinkered around in the kitchen for a couple minutes before he joined you, handing you a glass of red. You took a long sip as he settled down, hoping the wine would work fast to calm your nerves.

“So, what did you want to discuss first?” He asked after a moment.

“Well, we should probably have some ground rules. I was thinking that since you’re the expert and all, you should decide how these lessons go. Oh, and I think that we should keep this to a three-time thing. Anything more than that will probably get more complicated,” you answered with ease. Not to say you had spent the past week thinking about what you were going to say, but you definitely did.

Mat nodded in agreement at your suggestions before adding his own.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Also, we can’t tell anyone about this because, you know, your brother and the team and all,” he said. You hummed in response, that much was a given. No one could know about this.

“So, where do we start? Should I take off my clothes or?” You asked.

“No,” he said with a chuckle, “We’re going to watch a movie.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. For now at least.”

You hadn’t known what you were expecting, but it was not a cuddle session on his couch. You imagined that maybe he would’ve just ripped your clothes off the minute you walked in to get down to business, but he was being way more casual than you were feeling. Which was probably a good thing because your heart was beating a thousand beats a minute, so at least one of you had this situation under control.

Mat had told you to dress comfortably as he didn’t plan on leaving the apartment, and he was dressed in a similar fashion as you: gray sweatpants with a dark blue t-shirt. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and a shirt from your college before leaving, making sure to wear at least a nice bralette and pair of panties underneath.

He drank down the rest of his wine before adjusting himself on the couch, moving into a position where he was laying down. Grabbing the blanket folded on the back cushion, he spread it out over his body before patting the spot in front of him. Normally, you would’ve been intimidated by a bold move like this, but the wide smile on his face indicated that he was perfectly comfortable right now, and his ease surrounded you in waves.

Slamming back the rest of your wine, you lay down in front of him, tucking your body against his while his arms pulled your chest closer.

“Anything specific you want to watch?” He asked, using his free hand to grab the remote. You muttered a quiet ‘no,’ allowing him to go ahead and choose. Mat scrolled through the Netflix options before settling on a new action movie.

“So, how much experience do you have exactly?” Mat asked once the introduction credits had finished. It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at you because your face heated up in embarrassment.

“I’ve only ever got as far as making out,” you muttered.

“No one’s ever touched you then?” He prodded.

“No,” you replied, your cheeks on fire. You couldn’t see him, but Mat nodded in response against the back of your head, letting out a quiet ‘okay.’

It wasn’t the first time Mat had been with a virgin, but that hadn’t been since high school and when he also wasn’t that experienced himself. Mat decided to let the movie play for a little bit longer before making his first move.

That time came when there was a particularly slow scene on. Slowly, he lifted up the hem of your t-shirt and slid his hand underneath, tracing small circles on the skin of your stomach. You clenched your thighs together as a warm feeling started to spread throughout your body.

It was happening.

Mat kept his hands there for a few minutes, inching up so slowly you almost couldn’t tell he’d moved at all. When the initial shock of his touch settled, you tried to refocus your attention to the movie.

Another ten minutes passed before Mat made his next move. Almost imperceptibly, he used his elbow to push his torso up before he brushed the hair covering your neck to the side. You felt his fingertips brush your ear, a shiver running up your spine. He brought his lips to your neck a split second later, placing a soft kiss against it.

Your eyes briefly shut for a second, reveling in the fact that Mat’s lips were on your neck. He kissed around your jaw a couple times before the hand on his stomach was shifting you to rest on your back. Your body followed his lead and your eyes met his hazel ones before he was leaning in to kiss your lips.

A heat unfurled in your body the second your lips connected and you eagerly moved yours against his. One of Mat’s hands had moved to the back of your neck to tilt your head at a better angle, the other hand moving further up under your shirt to rest just below your bra clasp. Your body involuntarily arched up into his hands as his tongue slipped out to part your lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue entered immediately, tangling with yours. You and Mat lay on the couch for a good while, making out heavily before you eventually had to break it for air.

“At least you don’t have to worry about kissing. You’re a natural,” Mat commended with an airy chuckle, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his compliment.

Mat’s smile brightened at your laugh before he leaned back in, the heat building in your body at double speed. You knew you were attracted to him, but you didn’t think he would be able to wind you up this fast. Or maybe it was just because you’ve never had a man touch you like this before.

Breaking the kiss, Mat began to trail more kisses down your body, pausing near your collarbone when he heard a particular breathy gasp leave your mouth. Mat continued his path over your shirt until he reached your belly button.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, looking up at you.

“You can take mine off if you take yours off,” you replied with a seductive smirk. Mat pulled back from your body, matching your smirk with one of his own as he tore off his shirt. Less than a second later, he was tugging at the hem of yours, urging you to sit up so he could take it off.

Mat’s hands were back on your body right after he tossed your shirt on the floor. This time, he retraced his path down your torso with his mouth and tongue, leaving no patch of skin untouched. His fingers danced around the edge of your leggings, teasing you until you were lifting up your hips into his face.

“Please take them off, Mat,” you said through gasps, wanting nothing more than to be rid of your clothing. He chuckled lightly against your waistband, his nose tickling your abdomen before he began shimmying off your leggings.

Tilting your hips up, you helped him slide the pants down your legs along with your underwear. Though your cheeks flamed up at the thought of being exposed before Mat, you felt oddly calm (well, as calm as you can be given the circumstances) with him.

“Holy shit, baby. You’re soaked,” Mat noted with a deep groan. He shuffled his body further down the couch into a comfortable position, lifting one leg to hook over his shoulder.

You breathed in shaky breaths as Mat placed gentle kisses on your thighs, working upwards slowly until he reached your core. And when he used his tongue to lick a strip across your pussy, your back arched into the air as you let out a loud moan.

“You gotta stay still, Y/N,” Mat chuckled darkly, wrapping one hand to steady your middle.

“Sorry, never done this before,” you replied in gasps.

Now immobilized, Mat resumed his place between your legs, repeating the same series of licks before he closed his lips around your clit. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive area. God, you would have done this a long time ago if you knew it would feel this good. You weren’t sure if it was too early to feel the heat inside you build up this quickly or if Mat was just too good at this. You hoped it was the latter.

His tongue lapped at your folds, and your hands flew down to grasp his hair in need. You didn’t think you could moan any louder, but then he brought his thumb to your clit to rub in tight circles as his tongue teased your entrance.

“Holy fuck,” you whined out, canting your hips up as much as you could. You could feel his smirk against your pussy at your exclamation, bringing his hand down to slowly enter a finger into you.

You let out a surprised gasp as you felt the first finger penetrate you. Mat kept his attention on your clit, lips sucking harshly at it. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, focusing on how good he was making you feel.

After a few thrusts of one finger, giving you plenty of time to adjust, he added a second, feeling your walls tighten around them. He moved both fingers in and out of you, alternating the pressure between your entrance and clit. Just when he hit the right spot inside you, your hand tugged on his hair tightly, and he took the hint to curl his fingers against that spot.

“I’m so close, Mat,” you moaned, tossing your head back into the pillow.

“What do you need, baby?” He asked, pulling back for a quick breath. You glanced down to meet his gaze, taking in the way his chin glistened from your pussy. The view made you moan lowly, and his eyes darkened at the sound.

“Your tongue, please,” you begged quietly.

Mat heard the words leave your mouth and nestled his face back between your legs, tongue sliding up your slit in response. In rhythm with stroking your g-spot, he sucked at your clit, and it was mere seconds before your body coiled tightly inside. He kept the same pace and before long, you felt yourself crest the peak and then fall.

Mat removed his fingers slowly from your entrance, his tongue licking softly at your folds until he felt your breathing return to normal. It took you a few seconds to regain your sense of self, stars still whirling in the corners of your vision. When you finally felt yourself grounded on Earth again, you opened your eyes to see a self-satisfied smirk on Mat’s face.

“You’re so hot when you come,” he said when you met his gaze, and had you not been riding high on cloud nine when he said this, you might have blushed in embarrassment. But you weren’t embarrassed right now. The only thing you felt was giddy. Giddy because you were one step closer to your end goal.

And while you were blissed out, you dropped your gaze to notice the extremely visible bulge tenting in his sweatpants. Focused on a new task, you sat up quickly before leaning over Mat’s body so you could return the favor. Your lips crashed against his in a frenzy, your hands clumsily reaching down to grasp his length. However, you only got to feel it for a second before Mat’s hand was tugging it away.

“Not tonight, babe. Tonight was about you,” Mat said with a strained voice, breaking the kiss to look at you.

“What do you mean? We’re not having sex tonight?” You asked in confusion, your head still a little hazy from the orgasm.

“No, we’re not,” he laughed, noticing the wantonness in your voice, “You said I’m in charge, right? This was already a lot for one night, so we’ll put off the sex until next time.”

You nodded your head, though you weren’t really understanding. It made sense. Tonight was a very big step for you, and he didn’t want to give you too much at once. But despite that, your pussy was begging for a repeat performance and you were so far gone you were willing to do just about anything Mat would say.

“What about you, though?” You asked, glancing down to the noticeable tent.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. We still have two more lessons. There’s plenty of time for that later,” he replied, though the bulge between you seemed to say otherwise.

“Promise you’re okay?” You insisted.

“I swear, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle.

A comfortable silence fell between you after that, and you couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face. Your eyes sparkled with renewed purpose, and you felt satisfied for the first time in a long time. A smile of Mat’s own slowly appeared on his face as he watched you light up before him. Before you could stop yourself, you threw yourself into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank you, Mat. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You said happily, punctuating each ‘thank you’ with a loud smacking kiss on his cheek.

When you pulled back to give him that award-winning smile again, Mat had one thought.

He was totally fucked.

[magnolia-penn]

Future Vision

Chapter One: A Blast To The Past

Hahaha YEET. Here comes chapter one right at ya. I thought maybe people would be more interested if I shared the actual first chapter so here we go!

Warnings: Swearing, Ocs, Spoilers?(A little later in the series), Oc Death(I Glossed over it tho) lemme know if I missed anything

□■□■□■□■□■□■□

       Love comes from the most unexpected places. You certainly weren’t expecting to find love when you felt yourself suddenly lurch forward and land face-first into some sand.

 

          Sand? You thought to yourself. How in the hell?

 

          You were just in your bedroom, about to be picked up by your friend for a snow-filled weekend at her family’s winter cabin. Sand seemed like a million miles from you, and yet, there you sat, in the sand.

 

          “Look out!” A voice cried from behind you.

 

          In an instant, you were lifted from the ground by the back of your jacket heaved to the side. You were just barely out of the way as a burst of lightning struck where you just sat. All you saw was a flash of purple before you were tossed unceremoniously into the awaiting arms of a man dressed in red robes.

 

He carefully pulled you into his chest as a burst of flames erupted from his side with a … squawk? That definitely sounded like a bird. 

 

You pulled yourself out of the strange man’s chest long enough to see where the fire was directed. There, surrounded by a few other men, was a gigantic swirling mass of colors, seeming conducted by the man on one knee below it.

 

“Don’t look.” The man holding you instructed.

 

You did as you were told and buried your face back into his robes. He was warm, you noticed, in a comforting way. You were at a distance, but you could still hear the words of the man on his knee.

 

“Try as you might, but Liv will bring an amplifier to Lord DIO’s World!” You could feel the piercing stare from the man. “No! That’s not the right one!”

 

You felt an invisible force start to tug at you, pulling you in the direction of the man. There was a sharp tug before it was cut off by a voracious cry from the same purple being that previously pulled you to safety.

 

The colors quickly disappeared from the air as the man took his last breath, beaten to death by the purple manifestation. The man holding you let you go, only to scramble to keep you from falling to your knees.

 

“Easy there, Miss.” He caught you by the back of your legs and hoisted you up bridal style. He gently carried you to where the others stood.

 

They were discussing something when you were brought to them. You took note of all of their appearances. They were a strange bunch.

There was an old man at the center of the group, dressed in clothes you would see adventurers wearing in movies. Khakis, tan short-sleeved shirt, hat, all the works. You guessed it made sense with all the sand. He was grey in his hair and beard, but his broad shoulders and muscled physique left no doubt your mind that he could throw you quite far if so prompted. 

 

He was yelling at a teen dressed in a thick black gakuran with a chain attached to the high collar. He also donned a black hat that was adorned with gold charms and torn in the back.

 

The old man also took the time to scold a man with silver hair slicked up with gel. He was wearing a black, one strapped tank top that barely contained his pectorals and had cute little broken heart dangle earrings. Every time he would whine to the old man, he spoke in a distinctly French accent.

 

“And what are you laughing about?” The old man’s fury was directed at the hardly concealed chortling of the last remaining member of the group. He was also a teen wearing a gakuran, although his was slim fitting and green. His hair was a cherry red and had a long curl that fell in front of his face.

 

You also took a moment to study the man holding you. His body heat and thick robes had you concerned for him, but there wasn't even a bead of sweat on his brow. He didn't show any sign of faltering, even after holding you for almost ten minutes. The most notable feature on him was his interesting… scars? That accentuated his facial structure. 

 

They were all very attractive, you noticed. Each in their own ways.

 

“Um,” You quietly got your embracer’s attention. “What’s going on?”

 

“That will take some time to explain.” He responded.

 

          “Oh.”

 

          You didn’t say anything after that. The two of you stood in silence as the old man continued to yell at the other three.

 

“Yare yare. I don’t see the problem here.” The teen in all black grumbled. “Killing Eli was the only way to stop ‘Receiver’, so I did.” 

 

The old man glared hard at the teen, his left hand twitching with audible metal clicks.

 

“The problem, Jotaro, is without Eli to open ‘Receiver’, we can’t send her back.” He pointed a thumb back at you, still in the arms of the dark male.

 

“He said his sister has the same Stand.”

 

“That’s not the point, Jotaro! She’s also with DIO, and now that we killed her brother, I doubt she’ll want to help us!”

 

The two began to bicker again as the teen in green and the man with white hair slid closer to where you stood, slightly hiding behind the man. The other two fought for quite a while, although it was primarily the old man talking.

 

You asked to be sat down, and the man complied. He was gentle and introduced himself as Muhammed Avdol, and his Stand, Magician’s Red. The other two peeped in and introduced themselves as well. The teen was Noriaki Kakyoin and Hierophant Green, and the man was Jean Pierre Polnareff and Silver Chariot.

 

The fight between the old man and the teen dressed in all black looked like it was about to escalate into something physical before Avdol spoke up.

 

“Mr. Joestar, I don’t believe that this is any way to behave in front of a lady.” He scolded.

 

The old man, Mr. Joestar, suddenly clamped shut and turned to face you. He quickly started to sprout apologies for both him and his grandson, the presumed Jotaro.

 

“It’s alright,” You said with a chuckle. “I’ve had my fair share of stubborn and edgy teens while in school.”

 

“Edgy?” Mr. Joestar repeated, puzzled by the adjective.

 

“Huh? Oh yeah, it’s a term used to describe dark, brooding people who act tough.” You explained. “It’s a dead meme, but I still use it.”

 

“Meme?”

 

“Are you that old? Memes are internet jokes.” You knew that some people weren’t the dankest of meme lords, but you don’t have to be that dank to understand what a meme is. It’s 2020 for crying out loud! Who doesn’t know what a meme is?

 

“Internet? Like the big clunky computer thingamajig?”

 

“Computers, laptops, phones, tablets, gaming consoles, anything with a wifi connection.” For emphasis, you pulled your smartphone from your pocket.

 

There was a collective gasp from the males, concerning you. You could understand Mr. Joestar, but the other young adults made no sense. Anybody who’s anybody has a smartphone these days.

 

Slowly, as you put more thought into it, your face began to drop. You knew about Stands, both from having one yourself and from your friend, Magnolia, who worked at the Speedwagon Foundation and taught you how to use yours. Yet, you could never imagine a Stand being powerful enough to...

 

“Avdol?” You called out quietly. “What year is it?”

 

“1989.”

 

“Excuse me a second.” 

 

With that, you stepped away from the group and crested a sand dune. As soon as you got out of sight, you cover your mouth with your hands and screamed out a muffled, but still quite loud, 

 

“HOW IN THE ACTUAL FUCK!!”

 

You took a moment to scream wordlessly into your hands before regaining your composure. You turned to walk back up the sand dune when a green head popped up from the side where the men were.

 

You recognized it as Hierophant Green, Kakyoin’s Stand. You sent it a reassuring smile and activated your Stand. Your Stand, Chemical Romance, was an incredibly short-ranged Stand that allowed you to touch, talk to, understand, and locate other Stands. You extended your arm to allow the emerald Stand to enable it to climb up it, a gesture you often offered to Magnolia’s serpentine Stand.  It took the Stand a second to process what you were doing, but as soon as it did, it raced up your arm and wrapped itself loosely around your neck.  

 

You gave it a gentle pat on the head and giggled when you heard Kakyoin yelp from the neural connection amplified by your Stand.

 

You slid down the sand dune and almost tripped at the bottom, your embarrassing face plant postponed for another time because Hierophant Green used his coils to catch you. You cast a haphazard smile to the group before picking the Stand up and off your shoulders. Hierophant stretched and turned to a semi-solid mass, the same way cats do when picked up, and you could see Kakyoin shiver from the amplified feeling of ghost hands.

 

“Sorry about that, I needed a minute. How much of that did you hear?” The priceless looks you got confirmed that they heard it all.

 

“So, uh, what’s the issue?” Polnareff asked hesitantly, not wanting to set you off again.

 

“Nothing much. Just the fact that I was dragged 31 years into the past.” You replied innocently.

 

Your words received a couple of nods, and a sigh of relief as the meaning of what you said glossed over their heads. You didn’t say anything, knowing their reactions would be hilarious when it finally hit them.

 

It was Mr. Joestar who broke first.

 

“OH MY GOD!!”

[wolftraps]

Nessie

I’ve been plotting something like this since I posted chapter 3 of The Reverb in These Holy Halls. Sasha asked if the Loch Ness monster existed, and Jon said “not technically” and walked away all smug. There are spoilers up through like chapter 8 and references to things that happen in the Reverb+ fic(let)s, so probably don’t read this if you haven’t read Reverb, but you do you. Warning for: fear of drowning

“L-look, I know you’ve probably got like a million statements about it, but I swear, I—”

“Mister Ziegler, please, if you—”

“I saw it! I—”

“Yes, Mr. Ziegler, but I cannot look into your statement if you don’t allow me to take it.” Jon’s trying so hard not to snap, but this feels a bit too much like he’s back in his first year as Head Archivist. His actual first year.

“R-right. Right, of course.”

“Now, if you’ll just have a seat?” The man drops into the spare chair in Jon’s office, shaky. A recorder clicks on. “Alright. Statement of K…” Jon stops himself before the name actually gets out. Full introductions haven’t been done.

“Uh… Um, Kyle. Kyle Ziegler.”

“Statement of Kyle Ziegler, regarding a sighting of…”

“It- uh… well… Nessie.”

“... Right… Regarding a sighting of the Loch Ness Monster. Statement taken direct from subject, April 23rd, 2036. Statement begins.”

“Right, so. I think first I should say, I’m not actually a believer. Or… Well, I wasn’t. The whole cryptid thing is fun, but it’s not real. They’re modern-day mythical creatures. Real things being explained by people who didn’t quite understand what they were seeing to people who are trying to picture the thing from a disjointed narrative. Is it a yeti or a bear? Almost always, it’s a bear.

“But my brother, Cameron, he’s real big into all of it. Has been since he was like 6, when he

says he saw a tatzelwurm when we were visiting cousins in Germany. Everyone else in our family kind of laughed at him for it, but, like I said, it’s fun to think about, even if I don’t believe. So every summer we schedule a couple weeks that we both take off work, and we go explore an area that’s had a cryptid sighting.

“We’ve been doing this for just over a decade, so you’d think we’d have been to Loch Ness by now, but it’s so well known, we didn’t want to go and have to deal with all the tourists. The ‘casual’ believers, as Cam puts it. And things usually ended up booked in the summer. But with those freak tornadoes a couple weeks ago, I guess people were a little more reluctant to make the trip, and we got a good deal.

“The first couple days of every trip we spend scouting the area. Mapping where sightings have been; what areas people are less likely to go, and more likely for a cryptid to be able to hide. It might be my favorite part of the whole thing. We spend hours talking about what sort of creature it is, what it might eat, where it might get that sort of food. What sorts of camouflage or defenses it might have. All sorts of speculation. It’s just fun.

“It also involves a lot of hiking in places that are not easy to hike in. The point is that people don’t go there, after all. Day three we rest, which I get more and more thankful for the older I get. We sit around and eat too much and make a plan of attack.

“We were in this little restaurant that looks out on the lake, laughing about I don’t even know what, when I saw it for the first time. It was distant, hazy. It caught my eye, but it was pretty easy to wave off as a trick of the light or something. When Cam looked he didn’t seem to see anything, so I told him I just got lost in thought.

“Day four we rented a boat. We figured start in the middle and sort of spiral our way out, as much as you can with a lake that’s so much longer than it is wide. A boat for the deeper water, then switch to kayaks for the shallower waters around the edge. It’s a very, very big lake, so we’d spend the rest of the first week in the same inn, renting the boat each day. We have our own kayaks, so after that we’d make as much progress as we comfortably could each day and then find the closest inn or hostel wherever we ended.

“I… might have seen it on day four. It was in the distance, again, and gone when I pointed it out to Cam. I wrote it off, like the day before. But day five it was closer. It was still hazy, a dark blur, almost exactly like it looks in those supposed photos, but there was definitely something there. Cam never saw it, and it didn’t seem like it was following us or anything. It just popped up, just too far to clearly see, a couple times.

“I still didn’t think it was Nessie. Something man-made, maybe. Or my mind playing tricks on me. When your brain doesn’t process what you see, it does its best to fill in the gaps. You see what you expect to see. And while I didn’t actually expect to see Nessie, it was what was on my mind.

“Day six, I didn’t see it at all. Day seven and eight, just flashes. A dark object in my peripheral vision, gone when I looked straight on. By the start of day nine, we’d done a few laps in the boat and made it about a quarter of the way along the shoreline by kayak. And then I saw it. Like, really saw it, for the first time. Not well enough to identify it for sure, but I could tell it was something large and alive. It moved and dove. It seemed like the pictures, like a head atop a long, snaking neck. And it was definitely following us.

“Still Cam never saw it. It disappeared any time I tried to get his attention. It didn’t matter if I yelled ‘look over there!’, or only made a subtle hand-gesture behind my back. Somehow it knew, and it would always dive. I’ll admit I was going a bit spare at that point. I kept running into rocks and nearly beaching myself because I couldn’t stop staring back, watching as it moved, trying to tell if it was actually getting a bit closer every time it dove and resurfaced or if that was my mind playing tricks on me as well.

“Cam asked me that night why I hadn’t tried to take a picture of it, and I felt like an idiot. We got those special water cameras for a reason. I’d been so caught up, I hadn’t even thought of it. Though, now that I did think of it, I was sure the thing would be able to tell when the camera was pointed toward it, same as when Cameron looked.

“The morning of day ten was rainy, but the forecast said it would clear up later in the day. So we let ourselves rest a bit. Hydrated. Once it seemed like the rain had truly stopped, sometime in the early afternoon, we set out, and it all seemed to be going well. It was still overcast, but there were hints of the sun and not a single sign of anything strange following us.

“I wasn’t entirely convinced the whole thing had been in my head, but I definitely wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t. The longer the day went on without a glimpse, the more I realized how tense I’d been, anticipating seeing the thing again.

“By all accounts, Nessie is harmless. No one claims to have been attacked, no mysterious drownings attributed to it. It’s called the Loch Ness monster, but no one’s telling horror stories about it. So, logically, I had nothing to worry about, even if it was Nessie. And yet something about it had been making me nervous.

“Now I was finally starting to relax. I started taking pictures of the scenery just because it was a good view, not because I was trying to catch a fictional creature. I actually got some really good shots of some seals. But… I got distracted, and when I turned to talk to Cam, he wasn’t there.

“It was a pretty deep area of the shoreline and there was a curve about a quarter-kilometer ahead. It didn’t seem like he should’ve been able to get that far in the time I was looking away, but maybe I’d gotten more distracted than I thought. I yelled out for him, but if I couldn’t see him, it was doubtful he’d hear me. I tucked the camera away, and grabbed the paddle, but as I did, the clouds parted, and I caught the flash of a shadow beneath me.

“I couldn’t breathe. I knew, I just knew, that it was right below me. I froze, caught between pulling the camera back out and grabbing the paddle and getting out of there, to shallower waters, as fast as I could. Like I said, there was no reason for me to think it would attack, but I was sure it would. I started seeing more flashes, and then a large shadow, swimming around me. Circling, like a shark. Now and then, part of it would break the surface, and it looked… it looked like a seal’s coat would, if seals had the coloring of a raven. Mostly black, but shifting dark, shiny blue and green and purple in the light.

“It was waiting, I think, for me to make a move. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I waited until it was as far as it seemed like it would get, and then I grabbed the paddle and moved as fast as I could toward that curve, yelling for Cam the whole while.

“It bumped the kayak, and I felt the paddle brush against something solid but giving, like flesh. I had no hopes of outrunning it, but maybe it was just toying with me. Maybe it would leave off if I could just get somewhere too shallow for it to swim. No matter how far I moved, though, it seemed like I couldn’t get any closer to the bend ahead. I yelled for Cam again, and there was this… this sound. This reverberation. I couldn’t so much hear it as I felt the vibrations in the water through the kayak.

“I wasn’t going to get away, so I changed tactics. I set down the paddle and grabbed the camera. And then it was gone. Just… disappeared without a trace. Even the ripples from its occasional surfacing were gone. I wrapped the strap of the camera around my wrist and paddled as fast as I could with it swinging and getting in the way. I was sure if I actually put it down, that thing would be back.

“I yelled for Cam again just as I reached the curve and finally heard him call back. I nearly cried. But I breathed that sigh of relief a moment too soon. Just before I rounded the bend, something rammed into my kayak from underneath, and I capsized.

“I was underwater so fast I didn’t even have time to take a breath, and then it was like the surface disappeared. I’ve never really been one of those people who can keep their eyes open underwater but I tried. I tried to look for the light of the sun, to swim toward it, but it was like it was coming from all directions, or none, at once. Every time I swam one way, it felt like I was going deeper, so I’d switch directions and still be going deeper.

“I was almost resigned to drowning, and then I felt something grab my leg. Like teeth sinking in, and I was being pulled. Deeper, it felt, like before, like the surface didn’t exist anymore. I tried to feel for the jaws clamped around my leg, but it… it felt more like claws. And when I tried to get free, that long neck swatted at me, except it seemed more like… like a tentacle, or a tail.

“Finally I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. I figured up was probably the direction opposite where I was being pulled, so I reached up. I don’t know why. I was so oxygen-deprived… it made sense to me at the time.

“And then a hand grabbed mine and the things dug into my leg were gone and I was breaching the surface of the water. Cam helped me back into my kayak and towed me to shore, to the beach just around that curve I’d been trying so hard to reach.

“He didn’t see the thing that tipped me. Still, after everything. He said I’d been distracted in rocky waters; that it seemed like I’d hit a rock and lost balance. There must have been some kind of plant or something that I got tangled in. He said it all so reasonably and never once seemed to believe me. Like suddenly he was the skeptic, and I was the one always trying to chase aliens.

“You’d think that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t. Every time I looked out at the water, I could see it there in the distance. It stopped disappearing when Cam looked, but he still couldn’t see it. I refused to get back in the kayak. Our mobiles had no signal, and my leg was still torn-up and bleeding, but I refused to be left behind, so he had to support me as we hobbled our way to the nearest town. We spent a good while in the closest A&E, getting stitches in my leg.

“I saw it out in the lake before I went to bed that night, and I saw it out in the lake when I woke up the next morning. I told Cam I wanted to leave, and with my leg and all he didn’t argue. I watched that thing in the lake until I couldn’t, but right before it left my view, I swear it waved at me.”

“… Statement ends,” Jon says, already fighting the urge to sigh and rub at his eyes. “Is your leg alright?”

“It still hurts. They’re more like scratches than bite marks. The doctor said it looked like I’d been caught by a giant cat.” Kyle pulls up his pant leg and unwinds a bandage just enough to show the lowest of the wounds. It does indeed look more like a deep scratch than a bite. “But he thinks it should heal just fine with no lasting damage.”

“Good… good. Do you think you could mark on a map where you were when you capsized?”

“Yeah, I actually brought the coordinates with me…” He hesitates. “There… there is one other thing.”

“Yes?”

“When I was underwater, I guess I accidentally managed to take some pictures. Most are blurry and of my arm or body, but there’s one that got my leg. The one that was caught. But it’s… well, there’s no way that’s what was actually there. It’s impossible. I brought a copy, you can keep it.”

“Thank you. Obviously I can’t promise to prove something that no one else has been able to in over a hundred years, but we will look into it. If you leave your contact information with the front desk, we’ll let you know if we find anything.”

Shay is sitting on a desk in the main archive and quickly offers to show Kyle out while very determinedly avoiding meeting Jon’s gaze. There’s a conversation to be had there, but Jon knows Shay isn’t really the one to blame. With a sigh he returns to his office and knocks on the wall beside his door, which is now a door as well. And then he sits and looks at the photo he was handed and finally gives into the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“Ooooh. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that face,” Sasha says. “What have I done right, now?”

“The Loch Ness monster, Sasha? Really?”

“It’s your fault.”

“How is this my fault?”

“You had to be all mysterious and coy when I asked if it existed! ‘Not technically’ you said, and you walked away all smug. Well, now, technically it does!”

“That was twenty years ago!”

“Was it really?” she asks, “That doesn’t sound right, but time is fake. Anyway, it required some preparation.”

“Don’t think we’re not talking about you using Shay in your plots.”

“Daisy knew.”

“Daisy…” Jon sighs yet again. “Alright, fine. How about this: you told me you didn’t know where any of Patrząc’s kittens ended up.”

Sasha shrugs. “I lied. Will you believe me if I tell you that Nessie’s the only one I know about?”

“Not now, I won’t!” Jon looks at the picture again and tries so very, very hard not to laugh.

“Oooh, is that the picture? How did it turn out? Is it good? Who am I kidding, of course it’s good. I made it. Can I see? Please?” Jon takes one last look at the image of a man’s leg, caught in the mouth of a giant, brightly-colored catfish, and poorly feigns reluctance as he hands it over.

Sasha’s laugh rings so well that Martin can hear it through his webs from the floor above. There’s the sense of a question, and then Jon can feel Martin’s laughter as well, as the image appears in his mind.

“That came out even better than I thought it would! Can I keep this? Can I?” Jon doesn’t even have to nod; she reads him too well. “Excellent! I’m getting this framed. It’s going up in my halls.” She immediately turns to her door, still staring proudly at the picture, and then seems to remember that they’re still in the middle of a conversation. “Sooooo?”

“So, what?”

“Come on, Jon! You can pretend to be put out later. Just say it.”

Sometimes Jon resents that he can’t regret a single one of his choices. “Yes, alright, it was good. Very entertaining.” He tries to make it sound sarcastic, but there’s not really any point.

“Yes!” Sasha grins her too-wide grin and kisses him on the cheek, and then literally dances through her door with her prize.

There’s a meow at his feet, and then Patrząc is jumping up to lay across his shoulders, and he quickly closes the eye on his neck. Tattoo or not, cat hair in an eye is irritating.

“This is your fault, too,” he tells her. She grooms his hair in a way that feels like a pat on the head and purrs proudly. Which, really, is about what he expected. He scratches her ear in return.

[anistarrose]

Illusion (Pokemon x Gravity Falls One-Shot)

Summary: When you're afraid you'll never have a chance to hug your brother again, there's only one thing to do.

Word Count: ~2300

Warnings: Some self-blame and self-hatred

[Can be read without prior knowledge of Pokemon. However, it may be helpful to know that (caesar ciphered for vaguely implied spoiler) Crurdun kdv wkh delolwb Looxvlrq, zklfk ohwv lw glvjxlvh lwvhoi dv rwkhuv.]

July 2nd

It’s only the beginning of my third week in Gravity Falls, and already, I’ve encountered far more strange Pokémon than I could have ever anticipated! Just this morning, Decidueye and I nearly captured a strange creature wearing a decorated rag over its body, as if to mimic a Pikachu! Based on how easily it escaped the trapping power of Spirit Shackle, I’m tempted to classify it as a Ghost-type, but the attack also seemed to do no damage whatsoever to the Pokémon itself, only busting its disguise. We’ll be keeping an eye out for this “shadow of a Pikachu” to show up again it to show up again, of course, in hopes of exposing its true form!

Beheeyem has also been especially delighted lately — I can’t help but wonder if it senses the presence of other extraterrestrials! Perhaps that’s even the origin of all the anomalies in this town?

Stan buried his head in his hands. He’d reread the damn journal four times now, and it was still half useless information and half information he was too stupid to make any sense of.

His Pokémon — except Gyarados, for obvious reasons — were milling about the basement, unsure of what to do to help but too loyal to leave. Pangoro sat cross-legged in front of the portal, as if guarding it, while Persian slowly paced around the room, sniffing things he had definitely had time to sniff before. Even Gabite, who hated the cold and would definitely rather be upstairs under a pile of blankets, was lying at Stan’s feet, wrapping his fins around Stan’s leg for warmth.

And then there was Zoroark — good old, reliable old Zoroark, who’d gotten him through more rough points in life than Stan could count — who leaned over his shoulder, offering a faint murmur of reassurance. There were no words, but twenty years of time spent together made the message clear:

You can do this. We believe in you.

But Stan was tired, so tired. His brain was crying out for coffee, but his limbs felt too heavy for him to get up and make any, his mouth too dry for him to ask any of his Pokémon to bring it to him…

He was tired of being the dumb twin, tired of being the failure twin, tired of being the twin who wasn’t good for anything but protecting others and ultimately just ended up doing the complete opposite. He was tired of being seen as a shadow, as a poor pathetic imitation of something better. He was tired of Ford and everyone who saw him like that not being wrong.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have, because a hand on his shoulder was suddenly shaking him awake.

A six-fingered hand.

“You’re not a failure,” Ford told him gently.

“And you’re not real,” Stan responded.

“I’m saying what he would say if he was here.” Ford’s nose twitched slightly, in a very inhuman — yet still familiar — way.

“Pretty sure just about the last thing he said to me was that I’d never done anything worthwhile in my life. And he was right.”

“He was angry,” Not-Ford replied. “Angry and wrong.”

He gestured around the basement, to where Stan’s Pokémon had all drifted off into sleep. “Was all the time you spent with Persian and Gabite and Pangoro not worthwhile? Was training Gyarados up from a weak little Magikarp you found stranded on the beach one day not worthwhile?”

He rubbed his shoulder, where his trench coat was singed — though subtly, in a way that Stan might have missed if he didn’t know exactly what it meant. “Was convincing your parents to adopt me and Vulpix off the street in the middle of the winter not worthwhile?”

Stan closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “No, it was — it was worth something.”

Still wearing Ford’s appearance, Zoroark wrapped his arms around Stan and hugged him tight, in just the same way that Ford always had. Stan hugged back, and a sob caught in his throat, just in front of his heart, blocking any other sound from coming out.

“If Ford was here right now, he might still be angry,” Zoroark told him. “But I know he wouldn’t say that any of those things were worthless. You’re not worthless, and you can figure this out. We all know you can. That battle won’t be the last one Ford will ever have with us, and calling you worthless won’t be the last thing he’ll ever say to you. I promise. You’ll get to hug him again for real.”

“Thank you,” Stan choked out as the illusion melted away and Zoroark buried his long black snout in his jacket. “You’re right, buddy. You’re right.”

***

From the moment the memory gun slipped out of his hands and clattered to the ground, the end of Ultramageddon dragged on and on for Ford like some kind of eternal punishment, even as it only registered in his memory as a series of blurred and disjointed images. He barely registered the bricks of the Fearamid flying out from underneath his feet as he grabbed Dipper and Mabel and Decidueye and Ninetales and held them tight as stared up to the chaos that was the sky.

The Ultra Wormhole closed itself like cracked glass being melted down into one cohesive whole again, colors streaking from horizon to horizon and until they finally, finally subsided to a uniform blue dotted with white clouds, a faint rainbow forming above the falls in the distance.

Ford thought, for a moment, that he saw the silhouette of a winged creature above that rainbow, lit up from behind by the blazing summer sun — but he blinked and it vanished, and he had a million other things to worry about, the most horrible being the man who wore his face but was no longer his twin.

It wasn’t hard to find Stan (he almost wished it was), because Zoroark, whose bright red mane stuck out in the woods like a sore thumb, was waiting by his trainer’s side, standing down on all fours like he hadn’t since he was a Zorua and whimpering faintly as the others approached.

Mabel, wonderful blessed optimist that she was, ran up to Stan, returned his fez to his head and and was greeted by a confused smile and a question. “Uh, hey there… kiddo. What’s — what’s your name?”

“Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked. “Grunkle Stan, it’s me! It’s me!”

“We had to erase his mind to defeat Bill,” Ford explained, the words sounding hollow in his mouth — because no explanation could ever make this any better, could ever lead to anything but more sadness. “Stan has no idea, but — he did it. He saved the world.”

Ford let out a ragged breath.

“He saved me.”

Not a full minute ago, he’d made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t expect Stan to still be Stan, wouldn’t expect him to behave like his brother would, wouldn’t say anything to this poor confused man that we wouldn’t say to a stranger.

But he’d known, in his heart, it would been a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. All of a sudden he was hugging Stan and crying, tears seeping into his own trench coat, the coat of the man who should have taken the fall.

“You’re our hero, Stanley.”

Stan remained limp and silent, not making any move to return the embrace.

I’ll never hug my brother again, Ford realized. I haven’t in forty-three years and I never will again.

Soos joined them on the way back to the Shack, his Bibarel tailing after him, and Stan just blinked at them slowly. Zoroark pressed his nose to Soos’s shoulder and let out another mourning whimper, as Soos’s smile melted away and he wiped at his eyes with the end of Zoroark’s tattered mane. Waddles waited for them at the doorstep of the Shack, as if he’d known they were coming, but his expression remained as blank and innocent as a Pignite’s could be as he followed them inside.

Stan settled into his chair in his chair comfortably, his expression a little brighter, a little less confused-looking, and for a moment it was as if a stream of pure oxygen was being blown at the last spark of hope in the back of Ford’s mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of Stan left —

“Hey, what’s wrong? You guys look like you’re at someone’s funeral!”

And then it was gone, extinguished by the deluge that was reality, and while Ford knew the kids needed him, that their Pokémon needed him, he couldn’t stay, couldn’t keep looking at this — this shadow of a brother.

He remembered the time when he’d convinced himself that Stan had always just been his shadow, an inferior imitation, and hated himself for ever thinking it. He deserved to be hated for thinking it. If anything was a shadow, a warped reflection, a mockery of what it was supposed to be, it was the stranger sitting where Stan should have — which wasn’t fair to this amnesiac man, Ford knew, but he couldn’t keep looking at his once-brother like this, couldn’t stay here —

Hurriedly, awkwardly, he excused himself and rushed to the wreck of a kitchen, where sitting amongst the rubble was… Stan.

Except it wasn’t, because this Stan’s suit was singed and ripped over his left shoulder. The place where Ford’s Ninetales had struck Zoroark with a far more powerful than intended attack in the heat of that fateful battle thirty years ago, an attack that still left a scar to this day.

“Why are you doing this?” Ford blurted out. “Why are you being him?”

“I don’t know,” Zoroark replied, voice close to that of Stan’s yet somehow different, as if with a very faint accent. “Denial, maybe? I — I miss him. I miss him a lot already.” The sorrow in his voice, on the other hand, sounded very, very believably human.

Ford flinched as Zoroark leaned towards him, only to be drawn into a hug just like the one he’d hoped so desperately that he’d receive from Stan back in that clearing.

This isn’t real, he told himself. It’s just an illusion. It’s not really Stan.

But he also hugged Zoroark back.

“He didn’t hate you, you know.” Zoroark murmured between sniffs. “Was frustrated by a lot of things you did, maybe. But he forgave you for all of that in the end.”

Ford nodded slowly. “Do you want to go back to Stan? Together? The kids… the kids need us.”

“Mmhm.” Zoroark let its illusion fade away and withdrew from the hug. When the two of them got back to the living room, Mabel was sitting on Stan’s chair with him and crying, flipping through pages of a scrapbook.

“This’ll work! This has to work! Here’s the first day we came to Gravity Falls, Grunkle Stan, and here are the seals I used on my ball capsules that ended up blinding you!”

“That time we went fishing with you and Gyarados?” Dipper offered. “That time a giant Aerodactyl kidnapped Waddles and you punched it in the face?”

Stan shook his head sadly.

“I’m sorry,” he told them, “but I don’t know what any of this is, or who you are — ah, quit it, Waddles, I’m tryin’ to remember my life story here!”

Ford nearly collapsed with relief, and next to him, he felt Zoroark jump.

“What did you say?” Dipper gasped.

“I said get Waddles off of me!”

“It’s working!” Ford exclaimed, rushing over to Mabel’s side and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Keep reading!”

“Skip to my page! He needs to remember our boss-employee relationship!”

“Hey, just because I have amnesia don’t go tryin’ to give yourself a raise, Soos!”

From somewhere above them, something let out a caw, so loudly that it had to have been from an absolutely giant Pokémon. Between the cracks in the roof of the Shack, Ford could see a rainbow of colors in the sky — and for just a moment, a giant red and white winged creature flying past.

Ho-oh, the Pokémon of rainbows… and revival.

“You okay, uh… Ford? You’re Ford, right?” Stan asks. “My brother? Or is that just short for somethin’, or —”

“No, that’s my name — and I am fine, now. I just…”

He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not important —”

Stan frowned, and met eyes with Zoroark, who also frowned.

“Alright, fine. Could — could I have a hug?”

Stan got a strange look in his eyes, but Zoroark nodded to him, and he stood up and let his head rest over Ford’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” Ford told him, and for a moment Stan was quiet and Ford was afraid he’d said something wrong, triggered some unpleasant memory to come rushing back without context.

“I don’t know why,” Stan finally said, “‘cause as far as I know I’m the only one who got my mind wiped lately, but… I missed you too. I don’t know what happened, but… I get the sense I’ve been really worried about you lately. And maybe, uh, not on the best terms with you.”

He sniffed. “But I’m… I’m really glad you’re here.”

Ford nodded. “It’s thanks to you that I am. You and your team.”

Overhead, Ho-oh cawed again, and a single feather drifted down between the crack in the roof, shining in red, white and green.

“To new beginnings?” Ford asked, catching it.

“To new beginnings,” Stan agreed.

***

Thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated as always! I definitely have plans for more stuff in this crossover, but also some other fics I want to prioritize over those, so it may be a while.

[k-l-neidecker]

One Person’s Take on what the Infinity War Pitch Room Conversation was Like — K. L. Neidecker

One Person’s Take on what the Infinity War Pitch Room Conversation was Like

A week or so back, I finally broke down and watched Avengers: Infinity War.

It took me a long time to get around to it. I’m not sure, but I think, perhaps, I’ve seen the requisite number of superhero movies one must watch to be considered a happy and productive human in modern society. Check that box, one piece of being an American consumer fully in place, now on to the next strange trend…

Not that I hate comic book movies. In fact, I enjoy them. Just, hey, a few dozen a year is more than enough, thanks! And let’s not even mention that we are stuck with Marvel movies as DC seems to be having…trouble…making movies that don’t suck since the third movie of the Nolan Batman series.

So, considering the spoilers about Infinity War which assaulted my eyes for months, and the fact I knew what was going to happen…the supposed “big moment”…I simply felt no great rush to see it. Sure, I’d see it sooner or later, but it was way down on the the list of things to do—somewhere below a visit to the proctologist and spraying out the inside of the garbage cans.

But, hey, I figured it would be fine for a movie night.

And from minute one, I knew I made a terrible mistake, one which proves karma is a bitch and in a past life I must have been a terrible person. Maybe Attila the Hun’s third cousin twice removed, Bob the Hunnish.

I’d like to present to you my imaginings if what the pitching and brainstorming room must have been like as they planned Infinity War out.

Neon lights flicker and highlight nicotine stained drop ceiling panels. The energy is high, the air buzzing with electricity, though that could always just be the faulty wiring buried in walls which have been privy to so many great ideas in better days…

“Ok, so me and the boys have been talking,” Jim said, gesturing to a pile of sock puppets discarded in a dingy corner, button-eyes staring blankly into the distance, “and we got some ideas for the next Avengers movie.”

The writer’s room hushed in anticipation. A head writer for Iron Man 2, an artichoke heart pickled in brine, wetly rolled from its perch.

“Ok, so we open with a battle! Action is good, right? People love that stuff.”

A cricket farted in the distance, the mating call falling on dead ears.

“I mean, just some fighting, on a space ship. In space! Bunch of stuff happens. Sure, it will be confusing, and maybe some viewers will wonder, hey, did I miss an entire movie or something, because this scene feels like it’s part of some larger whole…

“And then we kill off some important characters! Yeah, baby, yeah! That will get people invested.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the room, taking the form of various belches and the whisper quiet rustle of a nostril mined for ore by a probing digit.

“Ok, and then the Hulk enters the picture, a being so powerful he’s been sent into space because of how dangerous he is to have around…but Thanos mops the floor with him. And guess what? That’s the last time we see the Hulk for the rest of the movie!” Jim leaned back and placed dirty boots on the table, grinning.

He continued, “So, no Hulk, because hell, who needs him anyway, and it fixes the plot hole where he would simply own Thanos early on, end of movie.

“Then, we add in every Marvel hero we have into the mix. So many, in fact, that they all only get five minute snippets on screen, and we just keep cutting between everyone fast enough to send a third of our viewers into epileptic fits. Thank goodness for CGI because we need a half-thousand sets to marionette these characters over.

“Thor, even though he’s been around multiple earthlings over a bunch of movies, will act dumb as hell and confused about words like ‘moron’”

Moron twitched in his sleep, the sound of his name nearly pulling him out of his comfortable dreamland.

“Also, some of the best characters in our universe, the space cadets from Gargantuans of the Galaxy or whatever it was we made a few years back, will run into Thor at random in the almost infinite reaches of the unfathomable soul sucking emptiness that is the ever expanding universe. Good timing!

“Let’s see…ah, right, Thanos just keeps winning non stop, and our heroes simply throw the same tactics at him over and over to no avail. You know, like punches and missiles and some Kung fu or some shit. Hey, the dude owned Hulk, so why wouldn’t Captain America try punching him in the gob?”

Tim, the newest writer, one not yet broken in by Marvel and not yet fitted out for his Marvel Brand Gimp Suit™, broke his silence when he could take no more. “Hey, uh, this all sounds great and all, but don’t you think—“

“No, I try not to, Tim. Thinking is the direct cause of migraines and bed wetting. Ok, so, we have wizards doing the circle things with their palms, some space folk bopping around almost disconnected from the rest of the story, Avengers not calling other Avengers even though fifty percent of the life of the entire universe hangs in the balance…damn, what else was I going to say,” Jim grasped a bong like an infant would a bottle and ripped on it before smashing it on his own head in victory.

“Right. The love story. Every great tale needs a love story: Romeo and Juliet, Ren and Stimpy, all the greats. So, we have a budding relationship between Vision and whatsherface. Let’s make the viewer care, get them invested.”

Tim nodded, “Right, that’s a solid idea man, sounds—“

Jim cut him off, “Of course, with fifty main characters and a two hour runtime, we won’t actually see any of this love or whatever. We’ll just hint at it a bit, you know. Gotta save screen time for purple ballsack, er, I mean Thanos, to wax laconically about how nice a bro he really is on the inside.”

“Hey, no, I don’t think—“ Tim stuttered.

“Good, my man, good. I think you’ll fit in here with that attitude. So, then let’s kill of all the fun characters. Let’s start with the people of color. First scene to last scene, let’s off some green folk, dissolve some Wakanda heroes, let’s go for broke.

“Again, no Hulk. Just Bruce in a CGI suit, so it’s kinda like the Hulk but suckier. You know, we wouldn’t want that actor to actually be in the movie or anything. Just CGI his ass at all times. Note to self, can we just completely CGI his likeness and not have to have an actor at all?

“Let’s have Dr. Strangelove or whatever his name is willingly hand over the one item his entire order was formed to protect… You know, stay true to the characters.”

The sounds of shattering glass echoed from wall to wall as two writers leapt naked through the windows, fist-bumping one another and shouting, “Brooooooooo!”

“See, Tim,” Jim said, “that’s the kind of energy we need here. Get your shit together. Ok, and lastly, let’s dissolve all the interesting characters we have left. Black Panther for one! Oh, and did I bring up the White Wolf? No? Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have an arc in the movie anyway. Hell, no one needs a character arc here. It’s only half a story, after all, and doesn’t need to stand alone or anything.”

Joseph the Randy Donkey brayed a lonely song at the water cooler before defecating a sad pile on the floor.

“Damn, I love that donkey,” Jim said while cleaning his left ear with his right big toe. “So, you see where I’m going here, right? For year people have complained we are formulaic, but look at us being all badass and breaking the mold! We will take a decade worth of characters and squash them together, making half a movie that means nothing on it’s own, simply designed to set up our next million dollar movie in a year, needlessly kill off dozens of the best characters in a way that means nothing and will be reversed within the first quarter of the next movie, dabble in romance sorta, and wipe out half the life in the universe to save everyone from running out of food and stuff!”

The room erupted in cheers and whoops. Three men dueled to the death in celebration, Moron awoke from his long slumber in time to vote in the midterms and drive without using his blinkers, seven Hollywood executives took time away from sexually harassing the donkey the stamp and squeal in delight, a motley mob of slatterns boxed with a dusty group of heroin addicts in a mock Walmart, and the seventh seal was opened in the distance.

But a hush fell on the room like a smothering pillow as Tim cleared his throat.

“Hey, um, if Thanos can control time and matter with a mere thought, wielding enough power to kill fifty percent of all living things at the blink of an eye…why doesn’t he simply will infinite resources into being instead of killing untold trillions due to limited resources?”

The silence in the room laid so thick in the air that a large housefly, fat and well fed on over-ripe Hollywood movie drech, collapsed like a crumpled piece of tinfoil from the mere pressure in the room.

Lucky for the brave writers of Infinity War, there was a handy and already broken window to defenestrate Tim from before calling the seventy-five actors and warming up the computers for modern CGI magic.

https://klneidecker.com/2018/10/22/one-persons-take-on-what-the-infinity-war-pitch-room-conversation-was-like/

[fanfictionlive]

Infinity War Epilogue, or Three Superheros Walk Into a Bar

This is my first and probably last foray into fan fiction. It was prompted by my wife and teen complaining that two of our favorite characters from the Marvel universe were finally together in a film but didn't have the opportunity to get snarky with one another, which we all felt was a missed opportunity. I decided to do something about it. They enjoyed the results and I hope you do too.

PS: In case you couldn't tell by the title, huge spoiler alert, duh. Do not read if somehow you haven't watched Avengers: Infinity War yet but want to.

“To Olaf, who did slay two dozen Saxons before taking a spear straight through the heart. He died with a song praising the All-Father on his lips!” the large Viking called out, raising his drinking horn. Up and down the great feasting hall, hundreds of others raised their drinking horns to Olaf’s glory. Olaf jumped to his feet. “Yes! And I would’ve slain three dozen, had an arrow not hit my leg! Damn distracting, that.” He sat back down as hundreds of Vikings drank to his glory.

“Thass true,” a Viking slurred into Dr. Strange’s face. Ah used tu be ‘n adventurrur lak him, ‘til ah tik a arrow to the knee. Didn’t heal right, ended my warrior days.”

Dr. Strange looked at the doubled vision of the old man talking to him. “Huh?? I thirt, thought I mean, that only warr’rs ut died fighting got ti Valla, Val, Valhalla,” he said, feeling inordinately proud of having finally gotten the word out right.

“True! Lucky fer me, mah village got ranshacked ‘n uh died fightin’.”

Dr. Strange nodded slowly, which he hoped looked wise and sagely. The truth was that the world was spinning, and he didn’t think he could move his head very quickly without falling out of his chair. A Valkyrie smiled and refilled his drinking horn, then moved on. Dr. Strange slurred his way through a few mystic syllables and gestured absently, and the mead briefly glowed a golden hue. The mead was vile stuff, Dr. Strange thought to himself. But being a master of the mystic arts has its advantages, he thought as he raised horn now filled with 1954 Dom Perignon Rose’ to his lips.

His drinking buddy looked at him with the intensity that only the truly drunk can muster. “Say, my fiend, I mean friend. We don’t get mannnny of yerkind around here. Whadaya doin’ here? Yelost?”

“I, sir, am a mister of the mastical arts.” He sniffed. “It doesn’t get more mastic-mystic than death. Ah c’n go wher’n ah want.” Dr. Strange matched the intense stare with a glassy-eyed intensity of his own. “I’ve bin strait-lassed all m’life. Aftern’ savin’ the cosmos, figgered ah deserved a drink or two.” He paused to consider. “Or three hunrd ‘n ninety-too. Whin yer alreadeee ded, guess you can just keep on drinkin!” He started cackling, then paused, suspecting it didn’t look very dignified. But his friend was laughing too, so he just let himself go.

“Saved the cosmos, did you?” asked a smooth, sardonic and entirely too sober-sounding voice behind him. “Some of us don’t think letting 50% of everyone die qualifies as saving the cosmos. You must be a glass half-full kind of guy.”

“Thasss right,” Dr. Strange said, without bothering to turn around. “Ah saw the one in seven million and whatever-ty whatever ways to lose, and ah made sure we’s on the one, um, the one, what wash I saying?” He started to raise his drinking horn to his lips.

“I think you’ve already had more than enough mead already,” Loki said, putting his hand over the drinking horn. “The 50% you think you saved? They weren’t on the slate to die. You saved nobody, Dr. Strange. Nobody!”

Dr. Strange jerked his drinking horn away, spilling some of it on his cape. The cape snatched a napkin from the table and started wiping itself clean, while the collar managed to convey a withering look at Dr. Strange despite not having a face to express with. Dr. Strange turned to regard Loki with supreme condescension. “Ah did safe ‘em. Yer just too stupid to unnner stand it. And also, sisn’t mead.” His sweaty face smiled beatifically at Loki and tossed back a deep drink—and immediately spat it out all over the half-eaten steak in front of him.

“Told you it was mead,” the God of Mischief said, cocking an eyebrow. “I was right about that and I’m right about this. You may be too drunk to realize it, but you saved no one. Look where you are, Strange. You’re in Valhalla. Look how crowded it is. That’s not victory, you mortal boob. This is death!”

Dr. Strange stared at his drink, lips pursed in puzzlement, contemplating the cosmic meaning of finding mead in his mead horn.

“Strange!” Loki yelled, clearly frustrated.

Dr. Strange looked up, annoyed at having his contemplations interrupted. He glared at Loki. “Shome god you are. Didn’t even make it to the feenal beetle. Battle. You did before Thansos even got to errth.”

Loki bent down and whispered into Dr. Strange’s ear.

“No, Loki, you aren’t still acshally live. Yer in Vallalal. Doncha know your own afffter-life? It’s er mithhhlogy,” Dr. Strange said haughtily. And loudly.

“Shhhh! You nit! Don’t you know what spoilers are?!? That I’m alive is a secret. That’s supposed to be a secret from the fans!”

A figure in red and black with two swords on his back walked up and smiled. But nobody could tell. Mask, duh.

Loki regarded Deadpool. “What are you doing here?”

“You went meta and broke the fourth wall. I’m the only one allowed to do that. I’m here to tell you to knock it off. Quit breaking the rules.”

“I’m the God of Mischief. It’s my divine right to break the rules.”

“Copycat.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Xerox.”

“I’ve seen your face. Trust me, nobody wants to be a copy of you.”

“That was a low blow, man.”

Dr. Strange looked at his drinking buddy. “Do you even knowsh what they’re sayin’?”

The Viking shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like anything to me.”

Deadpool looked at the Viking. “Hey now, knock it off. We’ve got enough cross-overs here. Dr. Strange in Valhalla. Me here with you guys. And now West World? Three’s too many. Let’s not get carried away.”

“Four,” Loki said. “There was a Skyrim one earlier.”

“Four,” Deadpool corrected himself. “That’s crazy even by my standards.”

Dr. Strange, wrongly concluding that sobriety would help matters, murmured a few words, dispelling all traces of alcohol from his body. “Look, I don’t know who this Spiderman-looking guy is, Loki, but you’re not alive like you think. ‘God of Mischief’? God of Denial seems more like it. If this were Poltergeist, I’d be telling you to look for the bright light, Loki. Because you’re dead!”

“Spiderman? Really??” Deadpool chimed in.

“Shh! I told you! Spoilers! Stop it!” Loki cried.

Deadpool looked at Loki. “Hey man, don’t get your panties in a twist. If there’s one thing I know, it’s bad writing. And this writing is so bad, it’s screaming ‘fan fic’ the same way your mom was screaming out my name last night. These aren’t spoilers. These are just fan theories.”

Dr. Strange looked at the Viking for help.

“Doesn’t sound like….” He started, then caught Deadpool’s glare and fell silent.

Meanwhile, Loki’s eyes narrowed at Deadpool. “My mother’s dead. And I’ll thank you to only speak of her in respectful tones.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I was respecting the hell out of her last night, especially when she put on the extra-large strap-on.”

Simultaneously, Loki and Deadpool drew blades, Loki’s daggers to Deadpool’s katanas. The Vikings nearby roared their approval, and a chant of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” emerged, and side bets started getting placed. But Dr. Strange, rolling his eyes, decided to put Loki on ice before any damage could be done. “Looks like you could use another 30 minutes of freefall, my friend,” he muttered, opening a dimensional doorway below Loki’s feet and another above his head.

Loki, standing on top of the golden dimensional door and patently NOT falling through it, spared Dr. Strange a quick smirk and wink, then turned his attention back to Deadpool, who was charging forward with his katanas spinning. Loki dropped into a knife-fighter’s stance and raised his daggers, bracing to meet the charge. Deadpool, having survived far worse than a few knife cuts, barreled full steam into Loki, but met nothing but air.

And that included underneath his feet as he stepped onto the weird golden glyph under Loki. Deadpool started falling. And falling. And falling. Just endless falling into blackness.

Suddenly, he emerged from the ceiling of Valhalla. Happy to be among the living (er, dead) once again, he smiled, braced for impact… and fell through the glyph on the floor again, back into darkness. “That’s not even fair!” he yelled as he continued to fall. “That was just a tease! You didn’t put out! You’re just like Jennie Jones at my junior prom! Except worse—you didn’t even kiss me with tongue!”

Dr. Strange watched the illusion of Loki standing on his dimensional door vanish as Deadpool crashed into it. Realizing what had happened, he began looking around the room for the real Loki. Seeing him approaching through the crowd wearing an obnoxious grin, he quickly passed his hands through a familiar mystic gesture, placing another dimensional doorway under Loki, who calmly kept smiling and walking. “’Fool you once, shame on me, fool you twice, shame on you’, isn’t that what they say? I just wish you were more of a challenge. Now that you’re sober, do you think that feeble brain of yours can follow what I’m trying to say?”

“You!” Deadpool yelled as he briefly fell through the physical reality between the two dimensional portals.

“Feeble brain?” Dr. Strange bristled. “I’ll have you know I set a record at Harvard Medical School for fastest student to ever complete the medical program, I was the pre-eminent neurosurgeon in the world and after my accident I went on to become—”

“A mister of the mastical arts, yes, yes, I heard,” Loki finished for him. “Try to keep up. I’m not dead. I’m a god of, what was it? Oh yeah—mischief! And trickery! You might have noticed I have some talent with illusions,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanos DIDN’T kill me. I set him up to THINK he did, so that I could continue to operate under his radar and try to turn things around. Is any of this getting through, Strange?”

“Ass!” Deadpool yelled as he passed through again.

It was Dr. Strange’s turn to smirk. “Okay, so you’re not dead. Congratulations, you saved one guy, yourself. Way to go. I reviewed all the millions of possible timeline outcomes of the conflict with Thanos, saw that there was precisely and only one that led to his defeat, and that was to let him have the first battle, let him think that battle was the war, and keep Tony Stark alive because he has the key to turn everything back around.”

Loki replied, “That’s…. actually, not bad, Strange.” Loki looked uncomfortable in the wake of having given Dr. Strange a grudging compliment.

“Hole!” Deadpool yelled as he passed again.

Dr. Strange shrugged. “Well, you know, if what you say is true,” he gulped, and looked like he was eating a tart lemon, “About being alive and all I mean, that’s pretty good for facing Thanos, I didn’t manage it. I am dead.” Dr. Strange and Loki both continued to look uncomfortable. Then their looks of mutual discomfort slowly gave way to mounting horror.

Loki said, “Wait, did we just complement one another??”

Dr. Strange said, “I think we did. Do you know what this means??”

Loki started screaming in alarm: “Do you think it’s too late to—”

A terrible rending in the fabric of the universe destroys everything.

THE END

(of everything)

submitted by /u/Rimblesah [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/2mdESba

[mysticorigamipaper-mcl]

MCL: Kentin’s POV - Ep. 30

WARNING: SPOILERS

Disclaimer: The following events take place in My Candy Love’s episode 29. All characters, script and images belong to and were created by Chinomiko. I only wrote what Kentin may have been thinking as the episode progressed, giving us his point of view rather than Candy’s. This piece also has the answers to earn Kentin’s image at the end of episode 30.

Enjoy!

——————————————————————————————-

Kentin remembered waking up feeling a bit bitter. His anger from his and Candy’s fight yesterday hadn’t fully died down and it left knots in his stomach as he got ready for school. All he could think about was what Candy said the other day, how she wanted them stay very distant with one another while the parents attended the expo. It was already hard enough to keep their relationship hidden, but....to avoid each other completely? It was as if she didn’t want him around at all. Was she embarrassed of their new relationship? Did she find him embarrassing? Even after he worked so hard to improve himself, to be a better person, was it not enough? He made himself upset with these thoughts as he headed out the door towards school. Even though it was a bright sunny day, it seemed like his vision of the world was dull and dreary.

He decided to take the long way and pass through the park for some fresh air to calm down, maybe he’d pass the shops to grab something from the dollar store to eat real quick. As he strolled down the street, he didn’t notice there was someone familiar nearby who recognized him.

“KEN!”

He didn’t hear them at first and kept walking.

“KEEEEENNN!”

Suddenly a hand grabbed him by the arm. He whipped around in surprise to discover Lucy....oh no. What was she doing here? He gently pulled his arm out of her grasp.

Lucy: “I thought that was you! I almost didn’t recognize you. I’m still not used to your new look.”

She gave him a big smile and her eyes almost looked like they were twinkling.

Lucy: “What’s with that face, Ken? Did you forget who I am already?”

Kentin: “N-No, Lucy, I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all. And don’t call me Ken!”

Lucy: “Right, right, sorry.”

Kentin: “Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I need to get to school.”

Lucy: “Oh me too! I was heading to Sweet Amoris with Candy to help with the art expo thingy…but we got separated and now I don’t know where to go…hey wait! We could walk there together! I’m sure Candy is waiting at the school.”

As much as he didn’t want to, he gave in. Kentin shrugged and gestured for Lucy to follow him.

They walked together for a few minutes before finally arriving at the school. Once they did, there was someone standing outside on the curb, looking up and down the street and slightly frantic. It was Candy. Kentin felt a pang in his chest from seeing her. He let Lucy race on ahead and he slowly walked towards the entrance of the courtyard. Seeing Candy so suddenly reminded him of their conversation from yesterday and now he was feeling saddened and frustrated all at once. Why was it so difficult to shake these emotions?

Candy turned their direction, but only seemed to notice Lucy.

Candy: “Lucy! Gosh, how did we lose each other?”

Lucy: “I got a little distracted when I saw the store windows not far from your place. I’m sorry.”

As they continued to talk, Kentin tried to quietly slip past them to get into the school.

Lucy:  “Well, I managed to find my way, see?...But I’ll admit I did ask for help.”

Lucy turned around and pointed at Kentin. Candy looked surprised to see him. He should have run. He was too slow and now he’s been spotted. Crap.

Lucy: “Ken led me to the school! It was too cute.”

He really wished she would stop calling him Ken...or just stop talking in general.

Kentin: “It’s Kentin, not Ken!”

Lucy: “Oh yeah, sorry. But it’s a habit, you understand, right? You’ve changed again since the last time I saw you...”

He became very uncomfortable...he didn’t like the look she was giving him. It was the same look she had when they bumped into each other earlier that morning. The same look she gives any boy she “falls in love with.”

Lucy: “You’re even cuter now, I’ve almost forgotten how you were before.”

Lucy was now blushing. Oh god, no. He needed to leave. Not only was he near Candy after their fight from the other day, but Lucy was openly flirting with him in front of her, and Candy looked too stunned to say anything. He felt slightly trapped. He began to inch his way away from them both.

Kentin: “Right...”

Lucy: “Come on, Let’s make up...Kentin.”

As fast as lightning, she grabbed his arm again and kissed him on the cheek. Kentin and Candy both froze and instinctively looked at each other. What the heck had come over Lucy? What was happening? His head was spinning.

Kentin: “Uh...hmmm. Yeah, well, don’t go overboard either, Lucy. I have to go.”

With that he speed walked into the school without a second glance back at either of them. Once he was alone he had to take a few deep breaths.

What a mess. He didn’t think his emotions would get to him so badly this early in the morning. He felt so conflicted. On the one hand he so desperately wanted to be near Candy, to just talk to her like they always did. He even found himself daydreaming of them not having fought at all and the two of them hanging out in the morning in secret, but that was not reality unfortunately. On the other hand he was still upset with her about how far she wanted to go with hiding their relationship...and it pained him a lot. They would have to work through this somehow. Maybe they could try to reconcile later after the day was over. Maybe she would calm down once the parents were gone. He could only hope at this point.

As he sat in the library trying to pass time, Kim’s mom, Audrey, suddenly burst through the doors, startling him. She proclaimed she had found him and whisked him away to the classroom that had served as his and Candy’s groups sewing workshop. She then tried talk him into wearing their project...in front of people at the expo. He was not having it.

Audrey: “It was made for you! No one else could model it, don’t you understand?”

Kentin: “That’s easy to say. You aren’t the one that will be embarrassed in front of everyone!”

Audrey: “Be proud of what you’ve done! It’s very...”

Kentin: “Unique, I know...I’ve heard that a million times. Unique doesn’t exclude ridiculous!”

After several more minutes of arguing and convincing on Audrey’s part, Kentin somehow caved and agreed to wear the jacket they made, mostly so he could leave the room.

Once he was dismissed, Kentin made his way to the courtyard for some fresh air. He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings once outside until he heard a familiar voice not far off. He noticed Candy and Iris admiring some of the artwork that was already on display. But then, something else caught his eye. A third person he had never seen before. A guy with blonde hair pulled back into a messy up-do, standing a little too close to Candy for Kentin’s liking. An uneasy feeling built inside his chest. He decided to listen in from a slight distance.

Iris: “I’m so proud of us! It looks great, right?”

Candy: “Not bad, yeah…but it’s a bit intimidating!”

Dake: “It’s scary, yeah. Did you do this?”

Candy: “Oh, no. The painting workshop did. Iris, Castiel and Violette. You don’t like it?”

Dake: “Well…you know, I don’t know much about art.”

Candy: “Oh…”

Then why was here?

Iris: “I can’t wait for the parents to arrive!”

Candy: “It’s going to be eventful…”

Dake: “So, I’m going to meet your parents?”

The guy flashed a mischievous grin at her. Kentin noticed a panicked expression on Candy’s face after he mentioned this, and his uneasiness grew into a type of anger he was not familiar with. Jealously maybe? Obviously Candy was not comfortable with the idea of him meeting her parents, whoever he was. That gave him some peace of mind....but not a lot. Should he step in? But he promised to stay away...

Dake: “Don’t freak out! They are going to love me! You’ll see.”

Just then, the guy pulled Candy against him and tousled her hair. A switch flipped in Kentin. That feeling of anger had boiled up inside him rather quickly. Before he could stop himself he marched, or rather charged, towards them.

Kentin: “No way! Who do you think you are?””

All three of them froze and turned their attention to Kentin. The guy gave him an arrogant smile, but looked confused.

Dake: “Uh...hey?”

Kentin: “Don’t you feel like you’re being a bother, by chance?”

Who the heck was this guy anyway? And why was he trying so hard to act like he and Candy are close. Kentin could tell she was trying to keep her distance, but to no avail. Obviously the guy couldn’t take a hint.

Candy: “Good luck making him leave…I’ve been trying for an hour…”

Dake: “You must not have tried hard enough.”

He continued to have that cocky smile on his face, then the guy put his arm around Candy’s shoulders. She tensed.

Kentin: “He’s looking for trouble...he’s really looking for it!”

His patience was wearing thin and he was seething.

Iris: “K-Kentin, what has gotten into you?”

Dake: “Hey, chill…We can’t even have a little fun anymore…”

Candy didn’t appear to be having fun...not at all. And this jerk either didn’t care or just clueless. Thankfully, the guy let go of her and turned to Candy.

Dake: “Well, I’ll see you later Candy…when your friend has calmed down.”

Don’t count on it buddy...

Kentin: “I’ll advise you not to come back!” He barked after Dake as he left...finally.

Candy let out a sigh of relief and Iris remained speechless. Then Candy looked at him, a wavering sadness in her eyes. Kentin couldn’t bear looking at her yet. Especially after how he acted just now. Thankfully, no one else was around to witness this. He turned away and headed back into the school to try and calm down before his parents arrived for the expo. But now he was left with a million questions that made that task a bit difficult. Who was that...that pompous asshole? How does he know Candy? Did they meet while he was away at military school? How often do they see one another? Did they go out at some point while he wasn’t at Sweet Amoris?

While lost in his thoughts, he almost failed to notice Candy approaching him. Her face was flushed with concern as their eyes met.

Candy: “Kentin…”

He was not in the mood to be told off for how he acted. He broke his promise. He overreacted in front of Iris. He didn’t need her to remind him that they agreed they would stay away from each other today. His heart hurt....

Kentin: “Did you change your mind?”

She began to stammer, looking perplexed.

Candy: “I-I...”

Kentin: “Because the parents are going to be here soon, so you should probably stay away from me.”

He hated every word that came out of his mouth.

Candy: “Please, listen...I’m sorry for what I said yesterday...I went too far.”

Yes...yes she did. And he was glad she realized that. But he kept his mouth shut to let her continue. He would hear her out.

Kentin: “…”

Candy: “It…it really upsets me that you’re angry with me.”

The hardened look he had on his face fell. He no longer felt a seething bitterness in the pit of his stomach. But rather, a twinge of guilt mixed with a hope that she finally understands how she hurt him.

Kentin: “Listen, it’s just that...”

Just then, the loud speaker started crackling.

****Your attention, please! The school will soon open it’s doors to welcome your families and other visitors for the expo. We are counting on everyone to welcome them properly.****

He and Candy looked at one another, a little unsettled. But right now, there was no time. And that’s exactly what they would need to talk this through and get past this.

Kentin: “Well, we should talk later. I have to go see my parents.”

Candy: “O-Okay. See you later.”

Kentin left before her and found his parents almost instantly in the courtyard. He barely had time to greet them before everyone was herded into the gymnasium. A lot of people actually showed up for this expo.

As other parents began to mingle and eat snacks from the buffet that was set up for the visitors, Kentin’s dad was talking and pointing to different people in the crowd. But Kentin wasn’t really listening to what his dad was saying. Instead his head was swimming, the noise around him dulled as he zoned out while battling his internal thoughts...his feelings forming an internal cyclone. Then there was the sight of Candy being upset burning a bad visual into his memory. It bothered him deeply to see her like that. Then there was his inability to find time to talk to Candy about this whole mess. Needless to say, he quickly found himself in a foul mood as a result.

He snapped out of his stupor momentarily to listen to the principal who quieted everyone in the gym to speak.

Principal: “Thank you all for coming! The exp is now able to start. Certain pieces are displayed in the courtyard, and others in the basement. You can complete your visit in any order you like. At the end of the expo, Mr. Patrick Savin will announce the best piece. This project will be displayed at the school and will be the first piece to a hopefully beautiful collection.”

The crowd dispersed and Kentin led his family out to the courtyard as people stopped to take a look at the work displayed. He noticed it was the painting from Castiel’s workshop and the sculpture piece from Lysander’s workshop. A voice to his right cut through the murmur of the attending the crowd.

“Oh gosh! That’s horrible! I wouldn’t want that in my living room.”

It was Nathaniel’s mother. He noticed Candy near her father on the other side.

Amber: “For real. So ugly…”

Kentin did his best to ignore the bratty princess. Even though he wasn’t a fan of Castiel, he had to admit his group did a good job. Though how could they do a bad job if they had Violette with their group? She’s such a natural, he wouldn’t be surprised if she did most of the work. Kentin also thought his own group did a good job, he just wished he didn’t have to model the final product later on. Oh god, he almost forgot he had to do that soon. Kentin took a fleeting glance at Candy while his parents took a closer look at the art work…only to discover that she was gone. Her father remained behind, talking with Iris’ mother. Where did she run off to?

As family and friends wandered between the courtyard and the basement and stopped to catch up with others, Kentin was found by Audrey to get ready. He excused himself from his parents as he unenthusiastically followed Kim’s mom to the now empty classroom where he put on the dollar bill jacket his group made. He tried one last time to protest but to no avail.

Hesitantly, Kentin walked out into the courtyard sporting his sewing workshop’s project to portray the vice known as greed. He was so embarrassed. He didn’t like being the center of attention, and yet here he was with Patrick and the rest of the growing crowd, all watching him attentively. He did his best to remain stoic and not let it bother him.

Val: “Can you turn a bit? I can’t see the back.”

It was Castiel’s mom. Kentin let out an annoyed sigh and turned around for her.

Castiel: “Very becoming. A real little part-time model.”

Aaaaand now it bothered him. Kentin had no patience for this crap today. He snapped.

Kentin: “I dare you to say that again!!”

Guy: “Is there a problem, redhead?”

Kentin’s mom spoke up.

Manon: “Calm down, it’s no use getting…”

Val: “Cassy was just having a laugh. There’s no use to make a mountain out of a molehill.”

Guy: “Well tell your ‘Cassy’ to have a laugh somewhere else!”

Castiel’s dad stepped forward.

Jean-Louise: “Come now…we have to show a good example for our children.”

Principal: “What is going on here?”

As if his day couldn’t get any worse. First he had to avoid his new girlfriend who wanted to keep their relationship[ a secret, they’ve been on bad terms all day long and have barely found time to try and work this out...Kentin was so tired of this fight already. It was exhausting to stay mad at her. Then he was forced to model his workshop’s project in front of the whole school...and his own dad. He couldn’t even imagine what his dad thought of him dressing up like a doll to be gawked at. And then there was Castiel pushing his buttons and his parents getting into an argument on his behalf. He just...he just wanted this day to over.

Once he was finally told he was done modeling, he ran back into the school as quickly as he could and removed the jacket in a flash, storing it in a cabinet in the classroom. Afterwards, he met up with his parents and the rest of the crowd in the basement where photos from the photography workshop were hung on the wall. He was a little shocked to see all the photos were of Melody. Closeups of her with different expressions which ranged from her usual smile to something....almost dark. They were interesting but, also a bit unsettling.

Patrick: “Well, the projection is going to start! It’s time to show you the work from the video workshop. We are going to need some chairs so everyone can be comfortable. Boris must have brought them to the gym. If you don’t mind, I’m going to ask the students to help me bring them here.”

Guy: “We can help too! We aren’t that old!”

Patrick: “Anyone who would like to help is welcome, seeing the number of chairs.”

Kentin followed his dad. Most of the other students and some other parents also came with to the gym where they found a large stack of folding chairs. He was actually kind of interested to see the projection, since Armin was part of that workshop. And Armin had given Kentin some inside information about how the film was all about Amber...in her true form. Kentin didn’t want to miss this. Perhaps she would finally be exposed for what she is. He was about to take a stack of chairs himself and head back to the basement when he noticed Candy heading towards the locker room...with the blonde guy from earlier. Kentin had an uneasy feeling all of a sudden and decided to follow them. Everyone else was busy grabbing stuff to take back that no one noticed. He cracked the door a bit so he could hear them talk.

Candy: “What is going on?”

She sounded a little annoyed and apprehensive.

Dake: “Haha! Nothing, don’t worry.”

...Now Kentin was worried.

Dake: “Actually, I think something about you has changed. I’m not lying when I say that you’re even more attractive than before.”

Candy: “Dake…”

Though Kentin could not argue Candy was indeed attractive, hearing it come from another guy like this brought back these aggravating knots in his stomach.

Dake: “And you know that you’ve had quite the effect on me since we met at the beach…”

The beach? Is that where they met? How long ago, he wondered. This definitely happened while he was away at military school.

Candy: “Hmm, uh…yeah?”

She sounded uncomfortable.

Dake: “Well, I know that you aren’t always very receptive of my advances…”

Candy: “Dake I appreciate it, but…”

Dake: “But you’re scared because I’ve never kissed you.”

WHAT?!

Candy: “E-Excuse me?”

Dake: “If you let me…”

Kentin barged into the locker room in a flash, the door slamming shut behind him as he rounded the corner to find Dake entirely too close to Candy for his or her comfort. Kentin has had it. With this day, with this fight and now with this jerk that wouldn’t leave Candy be. He lost it.

Kentin: “This time you’ve gone too far!”

Dake: “Hey what’s your...”

Kentin: “Get away from her right now!”

Dake: “Hey, calm down. She doesn’t belong to you, that I know.”

He was right, Candy didn’t belong to him or anyone else for that matter. Including Dake. And Dake had no right to try and force a kiss on her without her permission. Kentin was ready punch him if he tried.

Dake: “Unless...”

Dake looked at Candy and his expression changed instantly when he saw her face. Her eyes kept darting to Kentin and then the floor.

Dake: “Oh…I get it. I didn’t know.”

Kentin: “I don’t care what you do or don’t know. Get out of here!”

Dake: “Alright, chill, chill. I got the message.”

Kentin kept his eyes locked on Dake as he took a few steps towards the door…then he turned around.

Dake: “Actually, Candy…if ever you change your mind…you know who to call.”

Candy: “Oh gosh, Dake…”

Kentin glared daggers at Dake while muttering to himself, trying to convince himself not to hit him unless he tries something first.

Dake: “I’m going, I’m going!”

At last, Dake cleared out. Kentin took a deep breath and turned to face Candy, wondering if she was alright. She looked at him timidly.

Candy: “Kentin, I swear nothing happened between him and I, he just came to tell me…”

Kentin: “I know.”

He trusted Candy with everything he had. But he had a hard time trusting other guys around her. And she could be naive.

Candy: “Oh...S-So why are you...”

He didn’t let her finish her sentence. In that moment he took Candy in his arms and kissed her fiercely. After the day he’s had and not being able to be around her all day long, Kentin wanted nothing more than to be with Candy. Just hold her, talk to her, kiss her again and above all to put this stupid fight behind them for good so they could move on. He missed her even though they were never that far away from one another. But they had been emotionally distant all morning. Mostly he had been, and regretted being so nasty towards her instead of talking it through. He let his frustration and insecurities get the better of him to the point where he forced himself to avoid the one person he waited so long to be with. All of this washed away in that kiss, and the dark cloud that followed him all day had disappeared.

After their brief moment of bliss, Candy looked up him, visibly stunned by the surprise kiss but also relieved.

Candy: “You’re not mad?”

Kentin: “Not with you in any case.”

Candy: “Even for what I said yesterday?”

Kentin: “You know I can’t stay mad at you for long. And...”

He smiled at her warmly and gave her a loving look.

Kentin: “I understand you, in a way. I think...I do think you took things a little too far, but now...you seemed to have recognized that.”

Candy: “Yeah...we can hide our relationship without avoiding one another...”

He felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Kentin: “I think so too.”

Candy let herself fall into his arms and Kentin found himself in a state of bliss for the first time since yesterday. He wanted to stay here with her a while longer. Heck, he even had an inkling to ditch the expo and take Candy to the park. They could walk around in the sun for a bit, hold hands and lay in the shaded grass while they talk, just like during their picnic. But Kentin knew better. 

Kentin: “Do you want to get the chairs? I want to see the projection.”

Candy: “Oh yeah! The Projection! Let’s hurry.”

They left the locker room and gathered a few more chairs. There were still a few other people in the gym taking some back as well. As they walked down the hall, someone came around a corner rather quickly and almost collided with Candy.

Candy: “Oh gosh!”

It was a young girl with blonde pigtails and a black frilly dress. Without so much as a word or even an apology to Candy, she rushed off towards the staircase at the speed of light.

Kentin: “Someone is in a hurry, gosh...”

Candy said nothing.

Once they made their way to the basement, they set up the remaining chairs to face the wall where the projection would be played as students and parents began to try and find places to sit.

Candy: “I’m going to go join my dad…”

Again, he wished they could sit together but he would rather avoid her dad after their last run in.

Kentin: “Okay. I’m going to see my parents, they’re probably wondering where I am.”

She glanced behind Kentin to look in their direction. He followed her gaze and turned around. To his surprise, they were talking to Capucine’s parents. Or rather, they appeared to be arguing about something, judging by the looks on their faces. Maybe is had to do that dollar bill jacket. Capucine was in his and Candy’s group after all...He turned back to Candy.

Kentin: “See you after the projection.”

Candy: “Yeah!”

Candy gave a reassuring little wave before she walked over to her dad, and Kentin marched over to his folks.

Mr. Faraize: “Ahem, can I please have your attention? The projection is about to start in a few moments.”

He turned off the lights in the basement. Ms. Dalaney started the projection. Kentin couldn’t wait to see this. Amber was the star of the project, which he was 110% sure she demanded. And Armin told Kentin that he and Priya had filmed Amber in secret in between takes to capture the true essence of their chosen vice, Pride. Armin wasn’t kidding. As a result this film captured Amber with her less redeeming qualities. Tantrums, fits of anger and cries. It made Kentin both cringe and feel vindicated that her true colors were finally being brought to light and people would finally get to see her personality.

The film ended and there was a few seconds of hesitation. Someone started clapping slowly…then faster and faster. It was Amber. A few people followed in clapping, but the applause remained hesitant.

Adeline: “I am so proud of you. You perfectly represented pride. You really have a gift for acting. Especially since it’s much harder to embody and idea rather than a character!”

Amber: “I improvised everything from beginning to end.”

Kentin hung his head in defeat and let out a quiet, disgusted sigh. How did she keep getting away with it? Her mom was as delusional as she was! Ugh.

After some more chit chat and mingling once the lights came back on, everyone was being directed out of the basement. Announcements of the winners of the expo would be taking place in the courtyard in a short while. There was a short break before hand though. Kentin wanted to try and talk a little more with Candy prior to the announcement but he overheard Mr. Faraize recruit her to help find Patrick. So he passed the time by chatting with the twins until everyone began to file outside. Shortly after, Patrick arrived with Candy in tow.

Patrick: “Thank you all so much for coming! I would like to thank all of the students who made this day happen. You were all very creative, and some quite bold, as well. I’m very pleased. Choosing a winner was no easy task, but there was one piece that really stood out…”

Kentin was just happy the day was over. He was curious who won though.

Patrick: “The winning piece is a sewing project which represents the theme of greed. Congratulations to Rosalya, Kentin, Candy and Capucine.”

Wait.....wait, what?! They actually won? Because of that jacket?

The crowd applauded the winners as Kentin’s mother brought him into a tight hug saying she was so proud and his dad saying congradulations while giving him a firm handshake. Across the courtyard Candy looked overjoyed, while Rosa and Capucine swelled with pride.

After the crowd had settled down a bit, Patrick continued to speak, but Kentin found it hard to pay attention. He noticed Candy suddenly leaving the courtyard, running towards the curb outside the school. Where was she going? He started to make his way through the crowd, unnoticed by his parents. Then, he heard Candy yell.

Candy: “LYSANDER!”

There was a high pitched shriek and a squeal of tires. Kentin bolted for the entrance, alarmed and fearing Candy was hurt or in trouble. But as he arrived on the scene just outside the courtyard, he stopped dead in his tracks next to Candy who was standing the sidewalk. What he saw was Lysander...laying unconscious in the middle of the street...bleeding.

Kentin: “....!”

Dalaney was also nearby on her phone calling an ambulance, her voice trembling.

Kentin: “Y-You left so quickly...I was worried and I...”

This scene was hard to process at first. It was like he was in a fog. Candy remained in stunned silence, and Kentin tore himself away from the sight to look at her. She was in complete shock. Kentin realized she must have witnessed the entire accident. He instinctively took her in his arms and covered her eye, trying to shield her. Passersby started to congregate on the sidewalk as sirens could be heard off in the distance, drawing closer to the school.

[ablackbirdsinging]

I wrote a thing

@azrielsiphons  This is the fic I was telling you about! 

Like Calls to Like (Chapter 1)

Nina Zenik/Sturmhond  Will get to be pretty mature (explicit??), but not yet. Spoilers for everything Leigh Bardugo has ever published. Don’t read any of this if you haven’t finished Crooked Kingdom and the entirety of the Grisha Trilogy. 

If you’d rather read this over on AO3, here’s a handy link for you.

Nina stood at the bow of the ship with Genya, taking measured breaths of the briny sea air. Between the ship’s crew, the refugee Grishas, Kuwei, the members of the Triumvirate, and Matthias’ still body in the ship’s hold, Nina was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

As she often did when she stood above deck, Nina felt Sturmhond’s eyes on her, assessing her the way he assessed everything - the sails, the stars, the weather, his crew.

She was no stranger to the gaze of men, but there was something cool in Sturmhond’s eyes which made Nina think him impervious to the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts.

Frankly, it was a relief.

He picked his way across the deck, murmuring words to the sailors and the Grisha working up top.

“Morning,” Genya said, looking up with a smile as he approached.

“We should be pulling into port by the end of day tomorrow,” he said by way of greeting. Nina loosed a relieved breath and he eyed her curiously. “Not much of a sailor, Zenik?”

“I’ll just be glad to set my feet back down on Ravkan soil again,” Nina replied. A wide smile broke across Sturmhond’s face, softening his sometimes strange features.

“Me too,” he murmured as he walked away. “Me too.”

Nina turned back to Genya who was watching the privateer’s retreating form almost sadly.

“I’d thought he’d be… bigger.” Nina said. Genya huffed out half a laugh.

“He used to be, once,” she said with a shrug.

“Do you know him well, then?” Nina asked.

“Not well, exactly. Our history is…complicated.” Nina raised a sharp eyebrow.

“Not like that!” Genya laughed. “We never, I swear! But I’ve known him a long time. Before…and after.”

“The war?” Genya bit her lip, her eye thoughtful.

“Yes, that too.” Nina didn’t press the subject. She didn’t know what role Sturmhond had played, exactly, but she was familiar with the things the Grisha had endured during the Ravkan Civil War. The war had changed people, changed the country she loved. And it seemed even the coolest and most confident of privateers hadn’t been immune to its horrors.

—-

Nina hadn’t wanted to even go back to the Little Palace once they returned to Ravka. She was eager to find another ship to take her and Matthias’ body to Fjerda as soon as possible. But Zoya and Genya were insistent that she rest at the Little Palace for a while. Only there would they be able to find a healer to prepare Matthias’ body for another long sea voyage. Genya had done what she could before their trip to Ravka, but her knowledge on the subject was pretty limited. So Nina reluctantly agreed to return with them to the Little Palace before setting out again. She had to admit the idea of a couple weeks with solid ground under her feet again sounded nice.

“And besides, the King will surely want to be briefed on the happenings in Ketterdam, right?” Genya and Zoya shared a conspiratorial look.

“Right,” Genya said with a small laugh. She was practically hopping from excitement to see David after her time away. The thought of Genya and her Fabrikator love lightened Nina’s heart as they approached the palace walls.

—-

The day after Nina’s return to Ravka, she was called before King Nikolai. Genya had already secured a new kefta for Nina to wear, and she smoothed it nervously as she walked through the King’s throne room.

Darker than the typical Heartrender red by a few shades and embellished with swirling black embroidery along the back, the beautifully-crafted garment belied Nina’s new dark affinity.

The King watched her as she approached with a suppressed grin. Of course he didn’t need to be briefed on the happenings in Ketterdam, as he’d been there himself wearing Sturmhond’s face. But his Grisha Triumvirate was insistent that he continued the ruse, even in the midst of their own trusted Grisha.

“Miss Zenik,” Nikolai said as she came close and sketched a stiff bow. She had always seemed at ease around Sturmhond’s ship, if a bit reserved with the other travelers. It was strange to see her dressed up in the Grisha formal wear with her dark curls piled atop her head. “Squaller Nazyalensky has been filling me in on the events of the last several weeks. It sounds like we have you to thank for the recovery of several expatriate Ravkans, as well as the safety of Kuwei Yul-Bo.”

“Of course I didn’t act alone,” Nina demurred. “And of course it wouldn’t have been possible without Zoya, Genya, and Sturmhond.” Zoya nodded in her direction, but Genya was missing from the room. Nina suspected she and David were still enjoying their reunion at the Little Palace.

“Still, your actions were very admirable in the face of the challenges in Ketterdam. Will you be returning to your role in the Second Army, now that you’ve returned to Ravka?”

Nina rubbed a slippered foot awkwardly on the floor tiles in front of her.

“Actually, Your Majesty, I have a personal matter to attend to first. My -” she cleared her throat uncomfortably. “My close friend lost his life in the fighting in Ketterdam. I wish to return his body to Fjerda as soon as possible.”

The King’s golden eyebrows rose up into his hairline.

“I don’t suppose I need to tell you that Grisha such as yourself are not well-received in Fjerda. We’ve suspended the ships on our northern trade route in light of the tensions abroad. There are of course no passenger ships going out to Fjerda either.”

Nina shook out the stiff cuffs of her kefta.

“I was hoping I might convince Sturmhond to take me actually.” She said quietly. “He seems to have only a sliver of self-preservation. He might not find the trip entirely impossible.”

King Nikolai’s hazel eyes lit up a bit.

“No, I suppose he wouldn’t find it impossible at all. Shall I make a formal request on your behalf?”

Nina’s cool formality lifted like a veil at that.

“Oh, could you?” She looked like a girl again, staring up at him with so much unbridled hope that Nikolai suddenly found it hard to meet her eyes. He shrugged.

“He owes me about a million favors. I’ll send a letter right away.”

“Thank you so much, Your Majesty.”

“Of course,” Nikolai nodded. “If that’s all, then you may go. I’ll be in touch when I hear from Sturmhond.” Nikolai could almost feel Zoya rolling her eyes from beside his dais.

Dismissed, Nina turned to go and the rooms’ torches shone upon the back of her kefta. Black embroidery crept from the hem toward her neck in a dark, swirling riot amid the rich, wine red fabric. The sight sent a shiver up Nikolai’s spine. His fingers itched inside his ever-present gloves. It felt, suddenly, like the twist of scars and the dark shadows in his blood had reared up again. His arms, his chest, the backs of his shoulders suddenly felt too hot, too constricted by his finely tailored clothes. As the dark Heartrender swept from his throne room, Nikolai’s eyes watched her go with an intensity he hadn’t felt in years.

—

Two nights later, Nina had just returned to her room after dinner when there was a knock at her door. Some of her old classmates had been stopping by since her return to hear about her adventures being captured by the druskelle, then gallivanting around Ketterdam for a year.

But when she pulled open the door, Sturmhond was leaning against the door frame.

“Hi,” she said, somewhat awkwardly. His mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile.

“Hi,” he responded. “Uh, can I come in?”

Nina cast a backwards glance at her small room, and shifted to block it from Sturmhond’s line of sight.

“Can you give me a minute?”

“Yeah that’s fine,” but she was already shutting the door in his face.

For someone who arrived in the country with almost no worldly possessions less than a week ago, she had amassed a giant collection of shoes, dresses, tunics, capes, hair ties, and undergarments which were currently strewn across every available surface of her room. There was also more than one serving tray of days-old tea and pastry crumbs haphazardly stacked on the small desk.

Without a second thought, she swept as much of the clutter behind the dressing screen and anything that wouldn’t fit got kicked under the bed. She straightened the quilt across the bed and fluffed a pillow, then her hair. There was no help for her clothes - a drab and ill-fitting tunic and olive leggings, but he had seen her in worse aboard the ship. Her new kefta might have helped a bit, but it was somewhere buried in the heap of clothes relocated to the corner of her room.

With a deep breath, she yanked her door back open. Sturmhond was still lounging in the same position she’d left him in a moment before.

She plastered on her best “House of the White Rose” smile and gestured to the room behind her.

“Come in. Welcome to my humble abode.”

His calculating gaze swept over her room.

“It’s very… homey.”

“Well, we can’t all call a shockingly well-appointed and lavishly furnished pirate ship home.”

“It’s privateer, actually.”

“Alright, shockingly well-appointed and lavishly furnished privateer ship.”

“That has a nice ring to it actually. I’d like that engraved on a plaque,” he said as he perched on the edge of her desk beside a cup of yesterday’s tea with a dead flying floating in it. He poked the cup with one gloved finger and watched the fly slosh around.

“I didn’t know the serious pirate captain could make a joke.” She fixed him with a wicked smile, a challenge.

“Privateer, dear. And I’m not joking. You’ll know when I am because it will be hilarious.” He looked up from the disgusting tea cup and returned her wicked smile. Nina couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and out into the small space.

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you had a proposition for me.” His ruddy eyebrows arched into his ginger hairline in an expression that was vaguely familiar. Nina had enough good grace to blush at the innuendo.

“You got the King’s letter?”

“Actually, I showed up before he’d had a chance to send it. But he filled me in and suggested that you wouldn’t be discouraged from the task. He assured me that you were already well aware that your plan to show up in Fjerda was pure madness.”

“I’ve been told you’re an expert at mad plans,” Nina said coyly, picking at the hem of her tunic.

“By whom?” She could hear the smile in his voice without looking at him.

“By the other expert of mad plans.”

“Kaz Brekker, I assume?”

“Of course,” and he looked up to meet her eyes. They were shining with that light again, that hope that he had seen in the throne room. He shook his head to clear his mind.

“He humbles me. We’ll take my smallest and fastest ship.”

“Wait, what?” Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears.

“Honestly, I’d rather take one of the flying craft but the weather that far north is too unpredictable. Maybe if we waited till spring, but still, if we went down in Fjerdan waters and couldn’t get airborne again, we’d be, well, fucked. So a traditional ship is our best bet. We’ll take a skeleton crew and I won’t force any of the Grisha to travel with us. I’ll ask for volunteers, of course, but I can’t guarantee that any of them will want to take the risk. In the last month the situation in Fjerda has become even more unstable.”

“I understand,” Nina said. A relieved tear spilled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, when the King asks so nicely…”

“Right,” she sniffed, “because you owe him a million favors.”

“Did he say that? Ridiculous. He owes ME a million favors.” Nina shook her head, laughing.

“I guess I don’t really care why you’ve decided to help -” but he cut her off.

“You have a lot of heart, Zenik. I like that. And I think what you’re doing for Matthias is very honorable.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “I have some business to handle for the King over the next week or so, but I’ll start making preparations for the journey. I’ll send correspondence when I have a better idea of our sail date.”

He hopped off the corner of the desk where he’d been perched and headed for the door. Nina followed, wringing her hands.

“Thank you for this, Sturmhond. Truly.” He shrugged.

“Call me Niko.”

“Niko?” There was a devilish light in his bright green eyes.

“You didn’t think my mother named me Sturmhond, did you?”

“I didn’t know people like you had mothers, actually.”

Sturmhond - no, Niko’s - laughter echoed down the hallway as he walked away, leaving Nina to her small, disheveled room again.

—-

“This is a terrible idea.”

“I haven’t asked for your opinion, Zoya.”

“You’ve barely been back a week and already you want to go off gallivanting for no reason.”

“I still haven’t asked for your opinion, Zoya. And besides, it’s not ‘no reason.’ Not to her. She made a promise.”

“A promise that has nothing to do with you.”

“I like when people keep their promises,” Nikolai insisted stubbornly.

“Believe me, we all do, Nikolai. It doesn’t mean you have to be the one to take her.”

“There’s no one else who can.”

“If it’s truly that dangerous then all the more reason that you shouldn’t go,” Zoya stomped her foot to punctuate her point.

“Do not treat me like a child, Nazyalensky.”

“Then stop acting like one. You’re no longer the spare second son who can waste his time playing pirate captain. Privateer, I know I know. Don’t waste your breath. I shouldn’t have to tell you that you’re the King now and -”

“Yes, and as the King -” But Genya cut him off.

“Can you two stop arguing for a moment so I can concentrate? If you keep scowling like this I’m going to end up marring one of your beautiful features. On accident, of course.” Genya was removing the Sturmhond tailoring he’d asked her to work up a few hours before. Her hands worked across his face, returning his features to that of the King.

Zoya bit her lip and restrained herself for a whole minute before she started talking again.

“Your people need to see you on the throne.”

“My people need many many things from me, Zoya, and I cannot give all of them all of what they want. But in this specific instance, I can give one of my people exactly what she wants. And I’m the only one who can.”

“Are you fucking her, Nikolai?” Genya’s hands on his face stilled.

“Really, Zoya?” Genya said as she shot a critical look at the Squaller.

“I apologize. That was uncouth. Are you making sweet, passionate love to her, Your Majesty?”

“If I was, that would be my business alone. Not a matter for the Triumvirate. But the answer is no.” Genya’s hands stilled on his face. “What? Spit it out Safin.”

“Well, do you want to?” He could have sworn Zoya was biting her lip to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

“Do you two plan ways to gang up on me, or does it just come that naturally to you?”

—-

Nina made her way to the Corporalki workshops the next morning. She was meeting with a Grisha named Annushka who had taken on the task of preparing Matthias’ body for preservation and eventual burial once they returned him to Fjerda.

Nina had once called the Corporalki labs home when she was a student at the Little Palace, and not much had changed. She picked her way to the desk Annushka called hers.

“Nina, it’s great to see you again.”

“Hello, Annushka. I got your message. Did everything go ok?”

“Yes, all went to plan. The body is prepared and one of David’s apprentices brought a box over just yesterday. It will keep the humidity stable aboard the ship to make sure everything stays intact on the journey over.”

Nina swallowed thickly and nodded her thanks. She never imagined she’d be barely an adult and preparing to bury her first love.

“Would you like to see him before we seal the coffin?”

“I - I don’t think so, if that’s alright.” She had said her goodbyes in Ketterdam.

“Of course,” Annushka reached out to grip her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss, Nina.”

“Thank you, Annu.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Nina bit the inside of her cheek. There was something else she was wondering.

“Genya said you would be the best to work with Matthias’ body because you’re particularly well-suited to working with the, um, dead.”

“Yes, I’ve always struck a bit of a balance between the Heartrenders and the Healers. Not interested in killing, but not best equipped for medicine and healing, either.”

“I see,” Nina tapped her foot nervously. She liked Annushka, but she wasn’t sure how much she could confide in the Grisha seated across from her. “As you know, I trained as a Heartrender here a few years ago before leaving to join the Second Army.” Annu nodded. “But recently I’ve found that my power has changed. I’m much more in tune with the dead, than the living. In fact,” she dropped her voice low, “I’ve found that I can actually move the dead.” Annushka, to her credit, kept her expression carefully guarded.

“Bring them back, you mean?”

“Not exactly,” although she remembered the moments that she’d tried and almost succeeded with Matthias. “More like, re-animate. I could cause a corpse to get up and walk around, like a marionette. Have you ever heard of other Heartrenders with such affinities?”

Annushka shook her head.

“Not exactly. My own power is much more limited. In the most basic terms, I can isolate and arrest the decomposition of the dead cells. That’s why I’m well suited to the work you needed done with Matthias. But I’ve heard of others who possess a stronger affinity for working with the dead. Those who can manipulate the appearance of a corpse, extract internal organs for study, or even transplant, from the dead. But nothing as large scale as what you’ve described. To re-animate a corpse.” She let out a low whistle. “The power that must take is astronomical.”

Nina shrugged off the praise.

“Well thank you, Annu, for everything. The work on Matthias’ body, as well as the extra information. I’d appreciate if you could keep this confidential. I’m still working through what my new abilities mean.”

“Of course, Nina. If I hear of anything else on the topic, I’ll let you know.” Nina nodded her thanks again and headed back to her own quarters, with thoughts of Grisha who worked with the dead milling about in her head.

—-

Nina was a little bit drunk. She swayed down the hall laughing with two other Grisha her age, on their way to their rooms. Maybe she was more than a little bit drunk, actually.

Suddenly Naomi beside her froze.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a tall, red-headed man friend, Zenik?” Sturmhond leaned against the wall across from the door to her room, his gloved hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

“Oh him? He’s no one. Just renowned sea captain and scourge of the seas, Sturmhond. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”

“Saints, Nina. Send him to my room when you’re done with him, then.” The women giggled as Nina left them behind to approach Sturmhond.

“Did you just call me ‘scourge of the seas’?” He asked her in a low voice as she sauntered toward him. She nodded with a smile. “I take back what I said about calling me Niko. I only want you to call me that from now on.”

Nina laughed and opened the door to her room, gesturing for him to follow.

“Your wish is my command, Most Excellent Pirate Captain, Sir.”

“I like you like this, Zenik.” She turned to him with mischief in her eyes.

“Like what? Drunk? Reeking of kvas and pickled herring? Wearing a low cut dress that barely contains my tits?”

His gaze lowered very slowly to her cleavage and then very slowly back up to her face.

“I was going to say ‘laughing’ but now that you mention it…” She laughed louder at that and stepped away from Sturmhond to reveal the disaster of her room.

“Did you get in a fight with a Squaller? It looks like a tornado came through here. Did the Little Palace fire all of their housekeeping staff?”

“Austerity measures,” she said with a shrug.

“Well I’m glad they’re not skimping on kvas in the dining room, at least. You do smell like liquor and pickled herring, you know.”

“When in Ravka?” He smiled, looking around for a place to sit. With every available flat space covered in clothes and clutter, he sat awkwardly at the end of her unmade bed. She bounced next to him.

“What business, then?”

“The ship and crew are almost ready. We can leave in two days.”

“Wonderful, I’ll start, uh, packing my belongings.”

“You’d better start right away. It looks like it could take a while,” he said surveying the mess.

She leaned in close to him, until her messy curls were nearly brushing his shoulder.

“As soon as I get you out of my bed, I’ll begin.” He loosed a ragged breath and ran one gloved hand over his red hair.

“Are you doing this on purpose to unnerve me?” His gaze was steady on hers.

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Yes!” They laughed together, fierce blushes crossing both of their faces.

“I’ll see you in two days, then.”

“Two days,” he confirmed with a nod.

As she walked him to the door, Nina puzzled over something.

“I thought you were going to send me a letter about the plans,” she said as he started to walk out the door. He paused, shoulders stiffened. Then without turning around to look at her, he shrugged his shoulders.

“I just wanted to see you again.” And then he was gone.

That night, for the first time since Matthias’ death, Nina did not dream of snow and pines and wolves and blue eyes. Instead, on the waves of sleep, she sailed with the green eyes and clever smile of the boy she called the scourge of the seas.

[mattymattymerduck]

Into Infinity (Pt. 2)

Summary: Imagine randomly being pulled through a portal. When you awake, you find yourself in the Marvel Universe. More specifically, Tony Stark's lab. Guess this is what happens when Tony Stark 'examines' an Infinity Stone.

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 1800

A/N: There’s not a lot in this one, but I hope you guys like it regardless! The next chapter has a bit more plot to it, and things’re gonna ramp up from there :D

"I'm sorry, the last time you fooled around with alien technology you created a blood-thirsty robot, and you didn't learn anything from that?" This scene was looking terribly familiar to you, except there were so many more people in the room than when Tony announced his plan to create Vision, and this time you were actually in the room with them. It was ultimately nerve-racking, having all these superheroes you daydreamed about glaring at you like some sort of alien pathogen ready to infect their society. You couldn't help but nervously raise your hand - there was no way you were gonna be a smartass under this pressure without permission.

"What?" Bruce asked, distrust and wariness edging his normally soft tone. You slowly brought your hand down and glanced around the room.

"Well it's just that, in all fairness, Tony also made Vision - more or less - and he turned out pretty worthy. Also, Ultron was a genius, the only flaw there was that he had his own identity. If he hadn't gone rogue because of his individual thoughts you all would have seen peace in your time. Like, just imagine what he could have done if you implanted say, Steve's moral code." You wanted to continue, but their glares weren't getting any softer and you just accidental diluted your first point by siding with a villain. Oops.

"The point is, we don't know who she is or what she's capable of. And you just teleported her straight to us?" Steve clarified, staring hard at Tony and making you pray Civil War wasn't about to unravel right before your eyes.

"Technically, no. It was the Infinity Stone, while I was out of the Tower, and we don't think it was a teleportation device, she's from a completely different universe."

"Or so she'll have us believe." Natasha's eyes never left you for a second; her voice just as distrusting as her gaze.

"I'm sure I can prove it." You blurted out before you had the chance to think about what you were saying. Every pair of eyes fell on you again and you regretted opening your mouth to begin with.

"I mean, in my universe or whatever, all of this is fictional. Like, comics and movies and whatever. I can tell you guys all about every moment of screen time you've had - mostly Steve and Thor and Tony though. Bruce maybe a little bit, but they recast you for the Avengers so it's a little iffy. We're still waiting for the Black Widow movie to be put in production, the Russo brothers said they'd love to make it but Marvel's not really on board yet so..." You trailed off again when all you were getting back was raised or furrowed brows and disbelieving gawks. You turned to Steve, knowing it could prove something if you could recount all his misadventures from the 1900's.

"Ask me something about you before you were frozen. If it was in the movie I should be able to answer, but choose something that wasn't recorded in the Smithsonian or somewhere where I'd be able to find it if I were from here." Even if Steve didn't quite trust you, he couldn't say no to your pleading eyes. He took a moment to dream up a question you shouldn't have been able to answer.

"Where did I first meet Howard Stark?" He felt a little intimidated when a broad smile cracked across your face.

"Well the first time you really met him was when you were getting injected with the serum, but the first time you saw him was the hovering car exhibition with Bucky and those two girls the night before he was shipped out. That was the same night you got recruited by Dr. Erskine I think." Steve's jaw dropped open and Tony stuck his arms out to you in a gesture that screamed, see?

"That was easy, someone give me something harder." It was like playing a trivia game, and suddenly you were having fun instead of being intimidated and starstruck.

"My brother, is he in these movies of yours?" Thor boomed effortlessly and you spun around to meet his blue curiosity.

"Loki? Oh yeah, he plays a bigger part than Odin or Jane."

"Then tell me where he is right now." Your mouth went dry. Of course you knew that he was impersonating Odin on the throne in Asgard, but Thor thought he was dead. You didn't know how telling him that would affect this world, but you could guess altering the timeline wouldn't be good.

"Well, I-uh," You were struggling to word it in a way that wouldn't allude to Loki being healthy and whole.

"She has no idea. This is ridiculous Tony, she'd just some crazy history buff."

"That's not true, I can answer it's just, well, spoilers." They weren't catching on though, so you huffed and said what you knew Thor knew.

"You think Loki's dead. There was a bunch of fake betrayal where he pushed you down a hill and pretended to cut off your hand, Jane was super confused and he ended up sacrificing himself for you. The last words you said to him were about telling Odin about it but he said it wasn't for him and then he died in your arms. His body's still there somewhere." It wasn't actually, but you weren't about to go meddling in matters that you had no part in.

"What about the rest of us then?" Natasha spoke up again, still not entirely convinced that you weren't a really well informed Hydra agent.

"I can tell you that when Wanda used her magic on you you saw the Red Room, dancing and going through 'initiation'." You frowned a wordless apology and turned to the others.

"Steve saw Peggy and all the other soldiers he fought with. Thor was back in Asgard with Hiemdall telling him he doomed them all. Tony saw all of you dead because of him,  and Clint wasn't touched by it. Nice job by the way, that was an awesome scene."

Bruce sighed because this was insane, but you had an answer for every question and there just wasn't any other possibility. The other members of the team shared a glance and seemed to unanimously agree to believe you. That didn't mean they had to trust you though.

"So where you're from, we don't even exist?" Tony clarified, still trying to wrap his head around that thought.

"Well, your actors do. and your characters, but no, not they way that you exist here. Do you think our worlds have the same timeline? Like, I've already been here for four hours, have I been gone from my world for four hours or do you think everything paused and it'll just pick up where it left off when I get back?" The worst thing about all this was that it was literally all grey area. The most you knew about dimensions, alternate universes, and time travel were from the various movies, shows, and books you'd read. There was no actual science to back any of it up, so in a way you were in uncharted territory.

"You know about as much as I do at this point, but I'm sure JARVIS and I can crack this whole thing open with a bit of time." Tony shrugged and you felt your stomach drop a little, like there were a bunch of wires suspending it and one of them spontaneously snapped.

"Okay. I guess I should find somewhere to bunk until then. How hard do you assume it'll be to get a job when I haven't technically existed for more than a few hours?" You ran a hand through your hair a zoomed through all the things you'd need to do if you were going to be around for a while.

"You want to get a job? What for?" Steve asked, clearly not trying to hold back his confusion.

"Well yeah, I'll need to be able to pay the hotel I crash at. Plus, I only have one pair of clothes and food isn't free. If I'm gonna be here longer than a day I'll need a couple bucks to my name."

"There's tons of room here, you're welcome to hole up on one of the billion floors if you want." Tony offered and for once, you were the one sporting a confused look.

"Really? But I'm a stranger. What happened to not spreading my crazy germs around your Tower?" Obviously there was nothing you wanted more than to get settled in the same building as all the Avengers, but you didn't want to impose, and you could only begin to comprehend how weird it must be for all of them, having a living wiki page walking around, knowing a great deal of their past and their secrets. Then again, maybe that's why they didn't want you wandering the streets.

"It's not all that crazy anymore. I mean, it is, but now you're an anomaly instead of a genderbent Norman Bates. And it'll be easier to run tests if you're only an elevator ride away."

"Makes sense I guess. But only if you're all okay with it." You looked around the room and saw nothing but nods and shrugs.

"Looks like you're in kid, just don't try to cut any throats while we sleep, you won't make it to morning if you do." Clint was entirely serious in his threat and you laughed nervously under his heavy stare.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, but I got it. I promise I won't try to assassinate you."

"Okay, now that the threats are over with, I'll have Pepper get you settled." You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep in an excited squeal.

"Pepper Potts? I get to meet The Pepper Potts?" You were practically bouncing and it made Steve laugh seeing someone so utterly happy.

"Yeah? Maybe I'm getting the wrong message here but you seem more excited about meeting her than you were to meet us." Tony mentioned incredulously and watched you bite your lip in anticipation.

"Yeah, I mean I love you guys but Pepper is like, your whole world! She's amazing, and she's perfect for you. Like sure, Darcy's a good match too, and I've seen so much FrostIron it makes my head spin, but Pepper's a whole other level. She tops Stony a million times over."

"FrostIron...?"

"Stony?"

"You really don't want to know; believe me." You chose to ignore the strange look both Thor and Tony were giving you and stuffed your hands into your pockets anxiously. "So, Pepper, can we do that now?" There was too much raw hope in your eyes for anyone to deny you, so Tony called his girlfriend up and sent you on your way.

"Oh, one last thing." You called down the hall before getting into the elevator. Tony spun around on his heel to see your raised eyebrow.

"When are you gonna tell Fury about this?"

Tags: @wellfuckbuck @thiscuriouslymiss @bootsthemonkeykat @borderline-person @ultimatefandom-imagines @hownottodie101 @thesalsafic @captainninjabunny @ishipmybed @scaly-manfish @avengerofyourheart @stephie-senpai @violentlyfarts @pleasecallmecaptain @waitingfortherightpartner @officialcaptain-marvel @procrastinatingvirgo @buchananbarnestrash @hijikira @wydari @generation-hated @kinqshley @march-mallow @price-devant-la-cage @neverenough24 @beccaanne814-blog @tatortot2701 @heismyhunter

[umbrahighpriestofgiratina]

Rude Awakening Chapter 5

In which Palkia does internal dialogue.

Chapter 5: Awkward Relations Panne burst into Libra's room. "There you are, manspawn! There's something you need to know about-" She skidded to a stop in horror upon seeing Virion already there with Libra. "Panne! You could help us!" said Virion. "We suspect there's something... suspicious going on with the Cincinnatians!" Panne twitched. "I already know." Libra raised an eyebrow. "Taguel ears?" "More like seeing the one posing as one of my own kind turning into a dragon to consort with Naga." Virion paused. He slowly took a bottle of wine from a nearby shelf, poured some into a cup, and sipped it only to promptly spit it back out in delayed-reaction shock. "A dragon? Consorting with Naga? How?" "Quentin, who is apparently truly known as Dialga, claimed to her to be a god from another world," said Panne. Libra rubbed his chin. "So my worries about them causing a metaphysical disruption may be correct..." "No, this is preposterous!" said Virion. "This Dialga may very well be a false god!" "It's a possibility," said Panne. "He showed Naga strange technology I could not fathom." "Question is, whatever he and the others are, what are they doing here?" said Libra. "Should we report this to the others to find out?" said Panne. "If they are hostile, a public outing might incur their wrath," said Libra. "We should investigate on our own for now." Panne looked at Libra, then at Virion, resisting her urge to grit her teeth at the latter. "...Alright then. Let's see what's going on with the alleged 'Cincinnatians'." The three all left the room to go look. Unbeknownst to them, a small imp-like creature was looking out of a hoop-like portal from under the room's bed at them, and hurriedly ducked down and closed it to address a certain large, six-legged dragon. <They're onto us! Oh crap oh crap oh crap Giratina what are we going to do?> <Calm down, little fella, we can think of something...> said Giratina. <What? I doubt swaying them with burritos and a musical number will work this time!> <Maybe not,> said Giratina, <but straight-up throwing them off might.> Hoopa paused, then gave a mischievous smirk. <...Let's discuss. I feel I can provide some valuable suggestions for that kind of game.> -------- Meanwhile, Palkia was standing by Robin's door as he poured over maps, pressing herself to the wall as she had an internal argument with herself. He's busy! Do you really want to interrupt him while he's busy? You Torchiced out every time he wasn't busy! Why are you so fixated on getting to know him anyway? It's not like you're in love with him or anything. Well, he's pretty cool in his game and even better in person and he helped me out of a traumatic situation, so yeah, It'd be great if I could be like, friends with someone I admire. Then go talk to him already! Well that doesn't mean I'm not nervous! Stop being nervous! You're a goddess, you can handle this. I don't wanna overdo it though... Just... Go in there and act natural! ...You know what? Okay, fine, challenge accepted, me, I'm fucking going in! Ever so slowly Palkia peeked her head around the door. "Er, hi, Robin?" Robin lifted his head up from his maps and gave a small smile. "Hello, Valentia. Do you need something?" "Uh, not really, I just wanted to talk." "About what?" Palkia paused. After what seemed like a million years of hesitation she leaned over Robin's maps. "Whatcha doin'?" You idiot! she told herself immediately after. That is not how you leave a good impression on him! He'll think you're hitting on him! Robin blinked, then turned back to his maps. "Tactical planning. It may be peaceful right now, but we've always got to be prepared." "Er, right," said Palkia. She looked over the maps and noticed one she recognised in particular, pointing to it. "These Valm guys sure seem like a bunch of troublemakers and time-wasters if you ask me!" Robin raised an eyebrow. "Valm? That continent has its own problems, I don't think they'll bring them to ours." Palkia opened her mouth to retort. Spoilers! She snapped her mouth back shut and started looking over the maps again. "Er, sorry about that. You seem pretty thoughtful. And organized." "Really?" said Robin? "I feel like this is a mess." Palkia shook her head. "No, I can tell you've put a lot of thought into it! I mean, you've got every nearby country laid out and what's going on where! That takes dedication." Robin smiled slightly. "Heh, thanks." There was a another pause that seemed like a million years for Palkia and about an hour for Robin before the latter finally spoke. "You seem kind of nervous, Valentina." Palkia gulped. Great, he knows I'm on guard! What do I do?! Just... Tell the partial truth? Without the fine details? That's suicide! Not as much as telling the whole truth. Just tell him how you feel! Okay, fine! Palkia took a deep breath before replying to Robin. "...Yes. Yes I am. Because you're this super-great tactician leading this super-great army and I'm just this washup from Cincinnati who admires you and wants to be your friend but feels like she can't." Robin stared a bit at Palkia, then smiled reassuringly. "You're one to talk about washups considering how I wound up with the Shepherds." Palkia blinked, then smiled and nodded. "Oh, right! They told me - lying unconscious in a field?" "Precisely. I've managed to do fine ever since. You've been doing fine, Valentina. And almost anyone who's with the Shepherds is a friend to me, including you." Palkia relaxed noticeably. "Thanks, Robin." "You're welcome, Valentina." Robin shrugged. "Besides, I'm not even the real leader. Chrom is." "Well, glad you're not trying to show off to the new girl at my expense," said a voice. The two jumped and yelped in surprise to see Chrom standing and smirking behind them. "How'd you get in here so quietly?!" said Robin. "You were both pretty distracted," said Chrom. "Anyway, Robin, I was wondering if we could both look over some swords we got from a shop." "Oh, if that's the case sure thing," said Robin. He then turned to Palkia. "Though... Is it alright if Valentina comes along?" Palkia froze in place before stammering out a reply. "M-Me?" Chrom blinked. "Well, as a valkyrie I'm not sure how much she would know about swords." "She could afford to learn," said Robin. "If you bought these from a shop so could any bandit with enough pilfered money, or an enemy nation for that matter. Yet if she's from an exotic nation she might not know what she's up against." Chrom rubbed his chin. "Well, when you put it that way, sure she can take a look. Valentina, I'll show you the ropes." "M-Me?" said Palkia. "But I-" She was interrupted by Chrom taking her hand and pulling her from her seat, and immediately after was standing next to Robin and Chrom as they led her down a side hallway. Fantastic, thought Pakia. I know nothing about how to take care of a sword, at least nothing I can remember. I was getting chill with Robin but now I'm not going to embarrass myself in front of not just any of his other friends but his best freind, what do I do what do I do what do I do Meanwhile, Chrom leaned in slightly and whispered to Robin. "Glad you finally found someone." Robin raised an eyebrow. "Um, no?" "Damn. She seems nice." "...Not like that." "Very well. Let's see if she can learn her swords." ---------- In a particularly dingy room in the barracks, Chrom, Robin, and Palkia were looking over an assemblage of swords on a table. Palkia picked up one katana-shaped one. "I know this one! It's a Killing Edge, right?" "Yes, precisely!" said Robin. Palkia picked up a curved, odd-looking blade and swung it around a bit. "This one looks familiar too..." "That's a Wyrmslayer," said Chrom. "Particularly effective against any sort of dragon." Palkia started and quickly put the blade down, rubbing her hands together gingerly. "S-Sounds convenient! Heh, pesky dragons, eating thatched-roof cottages and burning cattle, who needs 'em, right?" After a long pause she looked over the assemblage of blades as a whole. "So... What are we looking for in particular?" "Defects, wear and tear, that kind of thing," said Robin. "Right... and how's this batch doing in that regard?" said Palkia. Chrom sighed. "Not very well. All of these blades are very dulled and past their prime." Palkia looked the blades over. "Huh, you're right." "These things only have so many uses before they break," said Robin, "but it seems we won't even be able to do that with these! Who bought them anyway?" A voice called from upstairs. "I got them at a discount! I needed to have money left for the really good sweets, Bubbles!" "Dammit," murmured Robin, "who picked Gaius to go weapon shopping again?" Chrom cast him an aside glance. "You did." Robin's eyes widened as he suddenly blushed profusely. "...Oh, right. I did." Palkia sighed and looked the swords over herself before an idea struck her and she stood up smiling smugly. "I may have just the trick, boys." Robin looked over to her. "Oh?" "You know how a lot of my spells can bend space, right?" said Palkia? "Yeah?" said Chrom. "Well, I know just the thing!" Palkia pulled a spellbook out of her bag and put her hand over the swords. Her hand, the book, and the swords all started glowing teal. "Now shrink them along the Z dimension just right..." The swords all began to change shape, growing thinner along their lengths as more of their material became stretched out. When they were done, Palkia gestured to them proudly. "Ta-da! Thinner swords, sharper swords - and they're still durable!" Chrom took one of the swords and sliced at the leg of a wooden chair with it. The chair was quickly felled by the blow, and Chrom turned to Palkia with a grin. "It worked!" Robin gazed in awe. "Palkia, you're a genius!" Palkia blinked. "I am?" "Yes!" said Robin. "In all my time studying magic I'd never have thought to use it to modify the properties of weapons on such a simple but effective level! It's brilliant, thank you!" Palkia gave a fangirlish giggle she quickly muffled before giving a nervous wave of her hand. "Eheh, it's nothing, glad you appreciate a good old Cincinnati spell!" Chrom looked between the two of them and crossed his arms, smiling. "I think after today we could all do something special." Palkia and Robin looked to him expectantly. "Oh?" they both said. ------- At the top of the castle tower, Robin, Chrom, and Palkia stood as the sun set over the vast expanse of Ylisse before them. "This is your first time up here, isn't it, Valentina?" said Robin. "Yeah," said Palkia, "It's really nice..." "And I brought snacks," said Chrom. He produced several strips of jerky he passed among the three of them, which they all began munching eagerly. Palkia thought to herself as she chewed the jerky and gazed out at the landscape. Aaaaaaaaa I'm hanging out with Robin, and Chrom too! This is glorious! What'll you do next? Um, I dunno, hang out with them, or at least Robin, some more? I'm in the clear here, I don't wanna mess it up. You gotta be more defined than that. Hey, going on the fly worked this time, didn't it? Well, not always. Sometimes you gotta be prepared. What, and force it? Me and Robin have to do things naturally. Well we still have to account for- Palkia swallowed a hunk of jerky. "Will you two be quiet? I'm trying to enjoy this moment." Robin and Chrom stared at her akwardly. Palkia noticed and gave a nervous chuckle. "Oh, sorry, that was nothing. Just me talking to myself." ***

[that-writer-girl5]

A Letter to Rose {Part Five}

{4/21/13 - 4/30/13}

“About that. What’s with that?” He looked at me as though I had two heads. I hadn’t exactly forgotten what I was here for, but I loved the look on his face when he didn’t know who I was and it wasn’t time for me to tell him. It didn’t matter what his face looked like. The reaction was always the same.

“Spoilers!”

“Okay, then, Ms. Song, if it will give way to spoilers, then why say question provoking things?”

“I do love a mystery. Don’t you, Ms. Tyler?” I looked at her and she pursed her lips, showing a lack of amusement with me. “Okay, Okay. I suppose it won’t hurt anything. Considering.

"Doctor, I am your wife, as Ms. Tyler here pointed out to you. Not yet though, but some day.”

“Uh huh and how do I know this?”

“You saw the letter, didn’t you? Why would you write something that wasn’t true?”

“Anyone could have written that letter. Even you.”

“After, what is it, ten incarnations, your handwriting never changed. You know you wrote it, and I know you wrote it. Plus, I have a security blanket of information as proof,” I stared at him for a second, waiting for the revelation to take hold. “Care for me to elaborate, Sweetie?”

His eyes grew wide as he realized what I meant. The fact that I knew his true name. “The answer to the question he’s been asked a million times before, ‘Doctor Who?’”

“Don’t, River. Just don’t.”

“Oh, it’s River now, is it? We’re on a first name basis, are we?”

“I believe I got your point. Just don’t.”

“Okay, okay. So, this is Rose Tyler. Nice to meet you. Sorry about the little mix-up here. I’m just here to fix things.”

Rose appeared to be speechless, but managed to squeak out, “What does she mean? She knows your name? You’ve known me for a lot longer than you’ve known her, and even I don’t know that bit of information.”

“Rose, in her timeline, I’ve known her a lot longer and I can’t tell anyone my name unless we’re married. I haven’t told anyone. I haven’t even told her yet.”

“Don’t take it personally, dear. Great things are to come for you.” Of course, I was talking about the years to come in her timeline. It was to be many years before she would reap the benefits of the great things she had to come. There would be a loss, a regeneration, years of building and research, a discovery, another loss and then a lifetime of happiness. I felt sorry for her, in this moment, in particular, because even though she did have a great life ahead of her, she would suffer great misery and pain before that would happen.

“Yeah? And what might that be?”

“Spoilers!”

“Thought you’d say that. Is she for real, Doctor? I mean,” turning to me, “what are you doing here?”

“I told you. I’m here to fix things. The TARDIS, the precious girl, called me to fix what you’ve done,” I said and pointed at the Doctor.

Rose looked at the Doctor again. “The future me,” he explained.

“See, the next you, wrote a letter to Rose here. One of many as Rose discovered in her nightstand drawer. He sent, what was it, four letters to you?” She nodded in the affirmative. “He always placed them in the nightstand drawer after writing them, under Rose’s diary-”

“You have a diary?”

“It was a gift from Mum the Christmas before I met you.”

“May I finish?” I continued without waiting for an answer. “Under Rose’s diary and the TARDIS was tired of seeing you so sad and lonely,” I said gesturing to the Doctor. “Lonely mind you, and you’re married to me.”

“I am sorry about that. So very sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s not the you now, and I understand how he feels. I’ve grown accustomed to dealing with it. Anyway, the TARDIS sent those letters through a rip in time in Rose’s room. It’s quite small and mendable with a sway of the sonic.” I pulled out my home-made sonic and showed them. “So, apparently, after my Doctor, the other one, wrote the last letter, he sent me a message wanting to see me. I thought it was just one of his normal get-togethers and it was, until I got there and noticed I was given coordinates to Rose’s room. I saw him peering into the drawer, and when he heard me there, he looked up and all he could say was, 'What have I done?’ I asked him what he meant and he explained that he had been writing you letters over the past several months and after he wrote the last one, he put it under the diary as he had done on several occasions. He made his way to the Console Room. While he was waiting, the TARDIS told him that she sent you the letters because you needed to know that he loved you, even after all this time.

"He got angry that she did that, because you know, paradoxes and all, and begged her to fix it. According to him, he went back to your room, the letters were gone, and that’s when he contacted me. He asked me what he should do, and I told him not to worry, that I’d fix it, because we can’t have him running into you, can we?”

“So, you love me, Doctor?” Rose said with a wide smile. He didn’t respond, but instead he looked at me.

“How will you fix this, River?”

“I have a little trick. I’ve met every face you’ve ever had thus far. Even this one, but not yet to you, I’m afraid. The reason you don’t remember is because of this.” I held up a spray-nozzle vial. “This is Mnemosine Recall-Wipe Vapour, and it will make you forget all of this.”

“Doctor, I don’t want to forget that you will love me. That’s the worst possible thing to forget,” Rose said, as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Rose,” I said, as I walked to her, smiled and took her hand, “there will come a time when he will tell you and it will be the perfect time. It will be a time that is right for both of you. Remember those great times I mentioned? That’s one of them. Trust me. If there is one thing that is worth waiting for, it’s for the Doctor to tell you he loves you. I’m still waiting for my time.”

“Can I have a minute with the Doctor, before-” she asked, nodding to the vial in my hand.

“Of course.”

I pulled him into my room and shut the door. By now, I knew we were miles away from the library, but I wanted to be sure she didn’t have supersonic hearing or something.

“Doctor, you know the letter I showed you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you say in there that you love her. She’s not me, but you love her. She’s still waiting for her time. You are married and she is still waiting. Should she see the letter so that she knows? I know how it feels to love someone and not ever hear it back.”

“You have to say it first to hear it back.”

I smirked at him and continued, “Should I give it to her?”

“I know what you’re saying, but Rose, you heard her. She said it’s worth waiting and if he hasn’t said it yet, it’s probably because he doesn’t think she needs to hear it, that she already knows.”

“Not everything can be said with actions, Doctor. Us mere humans like words too.”

“I may not know her, but if there is anything about the woman I do know, it’s that she is not just a mere human and neither are you. I don’t think we should do anything. Just let it be and he will tell her when the time is right.”

It felt as though his words were explaining away the reason he hadn’t told me yet. He was waiting for the right time. The time River talked about. If there was anything I was sure off, River was right. Those words were worth waiting for.

Of course I loved her. I loved her from the moment I saw the compassion and love she showed for everything and everyone she met. She was mesmerized by all of this. She hadn’t grown bored of this life. The running, missing her Mum, of me. She was my Rose and always would be and that was confirmed in that future letter.

No matter what I was up to, what I looked like, who I was married to, she was still my Rose and I still loved her, even if I couldn’t tell her and even if we were about to forget all of what had happened today, in just a matter of 58 minutes and 10 seconds.

I looked at her and wondered if I should tell her, but decided against it. Why would the perfect time be when we were about to forget it.

I knew neither of us wanted to forget this day, but we both knew we had to. For no other reason than to keep things in order. If we both knew today that we loved each other, how would that alter the future? If the heart-wrenching truth a couple feels when two people are in love was enough to send the world off-kilter and create paradoxes beyond belief, then the love between the Doctor and Rose Tyler was meant to do much more than that. It was meant to be fantastic and brilliant and it would be, one day, but not now.

My mouth turned into a little smirk and I think Rose noticed because hers did too. It was as if we were thinking the same thing. There was no way to tell.

“I’ll race ya there.”

“You’re on, Rose Tyler.”

“One, two, three.”

“Run!” We both said at the same time.

Rose and the Doctor came back into the library about an hour later. I had been sitting on one of the many couches reading about the planet Clom.

Rose was out of breath and in hysterical laughter, her face red with exhaustion. The Doctor was laughing right along with her. “Have fun, you too?”

“Oh, yeah, we raced from my room all the way back,” Rose said.

“I won,” he said. “I didn’t have to stop every ten minutes to catch my breath.” He puffed out his chest and patted it with both of his hands, to point out that having two hearts helped with that sort of thing.

I rolled my eyes as I always did when the Doctor went on one of his superiority rants about being a Time Lord with two hearts. “I’m going to explain what is going to happen, okay?”

“Okay,” they both said.

“First, you two sit down on the couch. You may choose to sit on your own because you will end up lying down and I’m not too keen on having to move one of you to the other couch.” They both made their way to their own couch, facing each other, as I expected. “Then I will spray this in your general direction. You will pass out for a little bit, wake up and not remember why you are here or how you got here. I will do my best to remedy this by giving you a book and making you think you just fell asleep. I won’t be here when you wake up. Rose, the letters?” Rose handed me the letters, and I brought them to the burning candle on the coffee table near the couches. The paper began to curl and then turn black and fell off. I brought the remaining white sheet to the nearest bin and threw it in to let it finish burning.

“Are we understood?”

They both nodded. I walked up to Rose first, looked her in the eye and said to her, “Remember, if nothing else, you can remember that great things are to come. That doesn’t spoil anything. It’s just the truth. Hold on to that and take good care of him.”

“I will.” I sprayed her face, and she instantly fell off to sleep.

“And you, Doctor. You remember to take care of her. We will meet again, soon.” I sprayed his face, and as he nodded off, I whispered in his ear, “Goodbye, Sweetie.”

I made my way to the section of books that hadn’t been written yet. I chose “Summer Falls” by Amelia Williams. I knew now that Rose wouldn’t know that name, and I thought she would quite enjoy the subject matter. I opened it to chapter two and put it in her hands.

For the Doctor, I chose the book I was reading about Clom. He did like to catch up on his history of any and all planets.

I walked the hour to Rose’s room and opened her drawer to make sure nothing else was in there except for her diary. When I was satisfied with my lack of findings, I walked over the chest of drawers and moved them slightly out of the way. I saw the rip in question, took out my sonic and closed it. I replaced the drawers, took another look around the room and smiled, saying out loud, “See you soon, friend.”

I pushed a few buttons on my Vortex Manipulator, setting my coordinates to the TARDIS Console Room, several years after this one and felt myself being pulled to another time and place.

Before River left, I told her I’d be waiting for her in the Console Room. I knew she’d get the job done. Any job ever given to her, she got done, whether it was to kill me or to save me, giving up her remaining regenerations.

I heard the familiar crack of the Vortex Manipulator entering the room and I ran to her.

Before I could say anything, she said, “Hello, Sweetie. Job’s done. I’ve sorted it.”

“Brilliant. Now…”

Cutting off my sentence, “You know I never miss getting a job done, don’t you?” She said with a wink.

I blushed, because it was true. “Yes, well, yes. True, true. Now that that’s all sorted, what do you say for a trip to old Paris? A little dining and a walk under the stars?”

“Sounds great, my love.”

He set the coordinates on the TARDIS to Paris, France, The Café Terrace. He explained to me this was one of the places he took my mother, Amy, on their visit to France. That was also the trip in which my mother and the Doctor met Vincent van Gogh, who, in my opinion, was the greatest artist of all time.

His eyes lit up when he talked about past companions and it always made me happy, obviously, to hear stories he would tell about my mother and father, whether I had heard them before or not.

After we finished dinner, we took a walk down the streets of Paris. It was romantic. It gave me the feeling I had always when I was with the Doctor. This feeling always was the sole cause of my love for him intensifying and just served to make me an even happier married woman.

“Doctor, I’ve a question.” His look invited me to continue. “Why was it that you never told Rose how you felt? She deserved to know.”

“Oh, but River, my darling. He did tell her. He told her at the perfect time,” he said, echoing what I told Rose right before my departure. “He told her when it was right. He was starting a new life with her. It was a life I couldn’t give her, that meta-crisis version of me, of course. That’s why I wrote the letters, really. It was an apology and a hope that she did accept him for who he was and is, which is me. Don’t get me wrong. I do and always will love Rose, but he can love her in a way that I can’t. I told her that no one could ever be her, comparing the two of you, and that’s true. You are River Song and you’re brilliant. No one could ever be you and no one could ever be her. I wasn’t lying about that. Besides, I had other plans for my life,” he nodded to me, then went back talking to the air in front of him. “I didn’t know it yet, but I did.

"I can rest now though. I can’t speak to him or her, but I know she’s happy. I can sense it, River. I can sense it now. I couldn’t before though. I was blocked to that reality because I was afraid of what it meant. I was afraid it meant I was letting her go forever. Not just her, but him. The other me. I know now, though. I know what I did was right. He is part human and she is human. He can be that for her and I could never be.” He shifted his body to face me.

“See you and I. We’re different. You understand all this stuff. The time travel and the wibbly-wobbly and the things and stuff. You get it. You and I will always be okay. You are a Child of the TARDIS, after all. See, she needed more, but you and I. We get each other and that’s why I love you. You get me.”

I smiled. Daft idiot didn’t even realize that he had just told me he loved me for the first time. I grabbed him and pulled him into a hug and kissed him. “I love you too, Sweetie.” This was my perfect time and it was definitely worth the wait.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who.