#he had to disguise himself somehow across dimensions...

[spaceistheplaceart]

more ford and mabel bonding because i said so :)

bonus ford under the cut:

[stovetuna]

CW: character death and Tony lack of self esteem and self preservation. Ignore if not ur jam

(¬_¬) psssttt angst time. post-Endgame Steve accidentally ending up in 616 and meets that Steve and Tony. And after failing to wrestling ANY info about why this Steve is here, 616-Tony figures out other him is dead and this Steve is taking it badly and this has Tony trying to make MCU-Steve feel better by saying something like well that me probably deserved it??? All us Tonys do (This does not make MCU feel better. Nor does it make 616-Steve very happy)

ANON MY HEART! IT CANNOT TAKE THIS! (she says as she mulls over this prompt for DAYS and even snaps out of half-sleep to write a little bit of it)...

but like, imagine it. Somehow or other Steve ends up in 616!universe—a spell of Dr. Strange’s gone awry, maybe, or a clusterfuck while returning the time stone—and he’s ended up in 616!Tony’s workshop. It’s late, he’s confused and disoriented and grieving, and he’s already making for the ratty sofa (thinking fixing this is a problem for future steve) when he realizes there’s already someone stretched out on it.

not someone. someones. together. wrapped around each other like koalas on a branch. one of them is Tony—no amount of darkness can smother that blue light, or so Steve once thought—and his heart is breaking all over again, when the person wrapped around him, partially hidden behind Tony’s shoulder, raises his head, eyes alert, and Steve realizes it’s him. Himself. Steve Rogers, from another dimension. Universe. Tony would know which. 

Rogers snaps to attention and is standing and interrogating Steve and he manages to not wake Tony up the whole time. This Tony sleeps like a rock, or maybe that’s just because of Rogers, and Steve is spiraling over the fact that maybe that’s all it would have taken to make things right—better—in his own universe. He could have been brave, he could have been strong enough for both of them to walk up to Tony and ask him out, kiss him, something. Instead he lied, and hid, and ran. He’s still running. Meanwhile this taller, broader, stronger version of him chose happiness, because what else could life with Tony Stark be? 

Rogers is grilling him in the semi-darkness, asking questions Steve isn’t sure he’s allowed to answer (the rules of the time heist are still fresh in his mind), but the questioning stops when Steve starts crying and asks him how long they’ve been together. If it was enough to stop their fight, and everything that happened after.

Rogers tells him they were too late to stop the Civil War, but they pulled their heads out of their asses eventually. When Steve mentions Thanos, Rogers’ face flashes recognition but not the same level of grief Steve feels like a railroad spike lodged in his heart. Whatever else has happened in this universe, Thanos hasn’t, and this Steve and Tony are together. Steve can’t stop thinking this is all just a cruel nightmare disguised as a tear in the fabric of the universe. 

And then the lights come on at a dim 30%, revealing a Tony Stark who is whole and alive and very, very different from the man Steve knew. While Steve stands there poleaxed in crisis mode (Stark mentions “blue screening” which is a reference Steve does get and he hurts all the more deeply because of it), Rogers fills Stark in on what he knows about Steve, when he showed up, what they’ve talked about. When Rogers mentions Steve’s question about their relationship, something brightens in Stark’s blue eyes.

“Your universe’s Tony Stark is dead, isn’t he?”

Steve makes a sound that is something between a sob and a laugh. Of course Stark would figure it out with the least amount of information at hand. In response, Rogers grabs Stark’s hand. He’s gone deathly pale, as if the very thought of losing Tony is too terrible to imagine, and he shares a look with Stark that speaks volumes, because Stark looks just as grim. Something happened there, Steve thinks—one or the other of them died, or came close enough to put the fear of it in them for life. 

And then Stark opens his mouth and says “If your universe’s Tony Stark was anything like me, and categorically speaking he probably was, he probably deserved it.”

Steve’s gut plummets because Jesus Christ, does Tony Stark not have any sense of self-worth, in any universe?? Apparently he and Rogers are the same wavelength—shocker—because he rounds on Stark with “Tony, we’ve talked about this” while Stark waves him off with a scoff. 

“This isn’t low self-esteem talking, Steve—you know my track record when it comes to near death experiences. How many would you say have been the inevitable result of my own actions?” 

Rogers’s face flattens. His lips and eyes narrow. “Too many.”

“Right. So am I right, or am I right?” Stark asks Steve, but Steve’s tongue has cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Of course, Tony Stark was always able to talk enough for three people, even if two of them were, technically, the same person. “He probably went down thinking he was the only one who could fix whatever was broken, walked right into a coffin he made himself, literally if not figuratively.” 

Steve swallows. “Actually,” he says, thinking of the gauntlet fused to Tony’s armor, which had fused to his arm, “it was something like that.” 

Steve’s eyes laser in on their joined hands, tearing up when he sees Stark squeeze Rogers’s fingers. A small touch of reassurance, stabilizing and loving, to remind Rogers he was still here. Still breathing. Still alive. The look Rogers sends Stark is so warm, so full of things Steve doesn’t have the strength to name, it threatens to shove him deeper into an already devastating downward spiral. 

So of course Stark chooses that moment to look at Steve and be his usual smart self, because some things are truly universal, and Tony Stark’s intelligence and ability to read people is one of them. 

“You never told him?” 

Steve shakes his head. Rogers makes a small, hapless sound, like the thought of never telling Tony Stark his feelings, being with him, is too sad to consider. It is—Steve can honestly say it is, and of the two of them, Steve is the only one who has to live with the consequences of the choice he made (and made, over and over again) for the rest of his life.

Whatever nonverbal communication passes between the two men, Steve doesn’t see it. He’s too busy staring through blurry eyes at the floor of the workshop, wishing this nightmare would end so he could go back to his own universe and not have to be confronted with the life he wishes he could have had with a man who was now dead. 

He’s so wrapped up in his own misery, he doesn’t register movement until two socked feet stop in front of his shoes and he looks up to see Stark standing there, eyebrows knitted in concern and wonder and, worst of all, understanding. Like he’s been where Steve is, lost and bereft, irreparably heartbroken. Did this Tony lose his Steve? How? Rogers is standing right there. But Steve has seen Stark’s expression in his own mirrored reflection every morning for the past year, and while he was never on par with Tony Stark’s genius, he could read people too. Stark knows this kind of loss as deeply as Steve does now.

“We’ll get you home first thing,” Stark tells him, but it sounds like a line to quell Steve’s nerves, which it does, and a good thing too, because Stark is moving into Steve’s personal space as he says it, breathing his air and meeting his gaze straight on. “Nod if you understand?” 

Of course Stark would be considerate of Steve’s inability to speak when they’re this close. Steve nods. 

“Can I give you something, Steve? If I know myself—and I do, really, even if my judgement isn’t always perfectly sound—your Tony would have wanted to give it to you himself. But life wasn’t fair to either of you, I think. Not that it ever is, but, I’d like to correct the imbalance in some small way. Is that okay?”

Steve nods before he realizes he’s doing it, like his body knows what’s coming before his brain does and he’s helpless to resist. 

Logically, Steve knows this isn’t his Tony. Not because his Tony is dead—although that does play a major factor—but because this one is so unlike him. This Tony, Stark—he’s too tall, Steve’s mind supplies, too young, too broad; his hair is too dark and his eyes are too blue. 

But Steve Rogers would recognize Tony Stark anywhere, in any dimension. In any universe. And if it means getting to give Tony everything he was too scared to offer him in life, even for a second—let alone getting some of it back—then so much the better. 

Stark pulls him in for a kiss like it’s second nature to him. Muscle memory. But to Steve, it’s a shock to the system. Every hair on his body is standing on end. He gasps against Stark’s lips and suddenly fingers are buried in his hair, tugging him closer before he can stop and ask them if this is okay, if they know what this means to Steve, if he can actually have this. 

A sob sticks in his throat as he finally musters the wherewithal to kiss back. Stark takes it handily, licking a hot, wet line across Steve’s bottom lip before Steve slants left and kisses him hard and deep, wrapping his arms around the similar-yet-unfamiliar frame.   Kissing Stark, Steve realizes, makes him happy, in a profoundly genuine, comforting way he hasn’t felt in years, and the only way to express it is to wrap a hand around the back of Stark’s neck, just below the nape, and suck the moan right out of his mouth. Even if that happiness is soured by his implacable grief, he can shove that into the back of his mind long enough to luxuriate in the feeling of Stark’s tongue brushing against his soft palate, those hard, scarred workman’s hands sliding up under his shirt to splay soft across his lower back. He feels safe, and happy, and loved. 

And if he imagines his Tony in Stark’s place, no one has to know. And if they did, Steve doesn’t think either of them would judge him for it. His instinct is confirmed when Steve pulls away long enough—breathing hard, just like Stark, who looks for all the world like someone who just fell off a Tilt-a-Whirl ass-backwards—to look over Stark’s shoulder at Rogers, who’s staring hungrily at both of them like he doesn’t know whether to pounce or stay put. The tent in his sweatpants speaks for itself. 

Before Steve can piece two coherent thoughts together—like does he feel weird about an alternative universe version of himself being turned on by this? or does he need to stop kissing Stark before this gets out of hand? how is he supposed to get home? how is he supposed to live without this now that he’s had a taste of it?—Stark is pulling him back in for a kiss that tunes out all the noise and warms him through, tucked in the safe, quiet, happy circle of Stark’s arms.

Steve holds the man and the moment as close as he can, as long as he can, and he’s grateful, for the first time in his life after coming out of the ice, for the silence. 

[nocturna-starr]

Intentional Creation

Prompter: @phantomphangphucker

Prompt: Danny created Phantom intentionally and knew full well what he was doing, the first time.

Words: 1508

In Danny’s totally unbiased opinion, his parents were naive. They were creating a portal to another world! Did they not expect said inhabitants from said world to make an appearance in the living realm? Or did they believe that somehow the very creatures they wanted to study wouldn’t be curious themselves?

“Don’t worry Danno! No ghost would dare cross through Jack Fenton’s portal!”

Sure.

“Danny, your parents are the experts, right? Just leave it to them! Everything will be okay!”

Yep… Nothing to worry about…

“Ghosts aren’t even real!”

Was everyone around him actually this stupid?

He should be playing the newest update for DOOM or studying for Mr. Lancer’s test on the Merchant of Venice. He should not be studying his parents research to make sure they didn’t blow up the house or contaminate him and Jazz again like they did the last time Jack and Maddie Fenton tried to invent a green energy source.

Suddenly Danny heard a knock on the door.

“Danny, it’s Jazz. Aren’t you going to get some sleep? We have school tomorrow!”

“Just looking over some papers.” Danny called. He heard his sister huff, but fortunately she didn’t push the issue forward. No doubt she herself would be up all night studying some new psychology book she had found in the library.

And she said that she was nothing like their parents.

He found himself glancing at the numbers. Math may not be his best subject, but to his untrained eye the calculations his mother made had no mistakes. The machine they were going to finish would certainly rip a hole into another dimension.

Then his dad would tell anyone and everyone who would listen that he would protect them from the threat he himself had created. His dad would go up against the wrong supernatural creature and…

Despite how much his father annoyed him, Danny loved the man. He couldn’t imagine a world without Jack Fenton. His mother, a former cop, might be able to handle the situation slightly better, but even she would become overwhelmed by the ghosts eventually. They needed someone who was on the same power level as the ghosts and who would protect humanity rather than harm it.

Didn’t his parents say that someone had gotten ectoradiation due to their naivety the first time they had built s portal? What was his name again… Paul… Chad? It didn’t matter. Maybe it was possible to replicate something like that! But instead of being contaminated, maybe one could fuse with the ectoplasm.  But who could he convince to give up their humanity for the world?

Danny put down the papers. Didn’t Sam say she wanted to make a difference?

xXx

“Whoa! I can’t believe it dude! Your parents actually made a real portal.” Danny’s best friend Tucker Foley gawked at the expensive machinery in the wall.

“Yeah, if only it worked.” Danny eyed the knobs at the side of the portal. Everything was still in position fortunately. His dad for once in his life had decided not to fiddle with something he had not done.

“It’s actually pretty cool, even not working. Imagine the worlds that are barely out of reach.” Sam sighed.

Danny smiled. Sam was still innocent. He hoped that her optimism, despite being a ghost, would remain. It would suck if he had to repeat the experiment all over again. Tucker wouldn’t be as powerful a ghost. Anyone after that would be a malicious ghost that Jack Fenton would have the honour of destroying.

The goth gently touched the portal, as if it were something sacred. It was like she knew her place of death was here. Tucker snapped a couple of pictures. Danny watched them, noting each soft smile or excited look sent his way. Would they feel this way when the portal took everything they knew in a couple of minutes?

“Wanna look inside?” Danny asked. He felt his heart begin to race. This was the moment that would forever change humanity. In the future, kids would be talking about the origin story of Sammy Geist or Tucker Ghouly. Would they see him as a good person, or a mad scientist? Would they understand why he did this and not judge him only on his actions? Or would they allow his name to fade to time because no one would ever know that the accident wasn’t an accident?

“Sure Danny!” Sam grinned. Without a second thought she walked inside.

“I’m good dude. I’d rather not be inside, and the thing click on.” Tucker didn’t look up from his PDA.

Maybe he should have tried to get Sam to dress in a Hazmat suit. The extra protection could have led her into a false sense of security which would allow for mistakes to occur. The Hazmat suit also could have acted as a disguise. Sam Manson, Amity Park’s most famous goth, would never have been caught dead in one of those.

“What are all of these wires for? What about all these buttons? Tuck you’re the tech guru, you should really come inside.” Sam called.

“Actually Sam, I think you should get out.” Tucker warned. Did Tucker suspect something? Danny had never even written his thoughts down in a journal let alone share them with anyone else! How could his best friend even know?

Why did he suddenly feel so guilty?

“Just a sec Tucker!” Sam called. Her hand grazed a large red button. Danny wanted to tell her to push it or to startle her and cause her to “accidentally” press it. Yet the words refused to come from out of him. Why did he feel so terrible for wanting to save the world? What was one life to billions? It wasn’t like she was actually going to die!

Why was his life more important than Sam’s?

“Hey Sam, I want a turn to see!” Danny found himself calling. He watched as she safely exited the portal. He grabbed the suit his father had made especially for him and put it on.

Sam grinned, ripping off the picture of his dad’s face that he insisted on putting on everything. “You aren’t going in with that on, are you?”

“I guess not.” Danny tried to smile.

“Nervous? Just think of all the cool worlds that this portal can connect to.” Sam grinned.

He nodded, hoping to disguise his dread as minor fear. He took a step in the portal and began walking towards the button that Jack and Maddie Fenton in their infinite wisdom had chosen to keep. Time seemed to slow the closer he got to it. He could hear his own heart beat and feel every breath he took. Once he was transformed, would he miss feeling of breathing?  There was no going back. If he chickened out now, Danny knew he would never build the courage to do this again. Then the world would be doomed.

Once he was close enough, Danny “tripped” and pressed the button. His walk of death couldn’t compare to the absolute freeze in time that occurred just after he pressed the button. The youngest Fenton swore he heard the phrase “All is as it should be…” before the light engulfed him into a world of agony.

He was glad that he didn’t force his best friends to experience it. His essence was ripped apart then sewn back together again. His heart raced before falling into a slow and steady rhythm. He was Danny Fenton, then he was nothing. He was human, until he wasn’t. Everything became dark.

He saw flashes of his life slip by and flashes of the future. He heard the screams of the dying and cries of those who were living for the first time. He felt sudden felt a weight that he had never known fall off of his shoulders. The freedom was only felt for a couple of seconds (or was it years?) before a much heavier weight was flung onto him.

He felt himself begin to walk. A light and a voice beckoned him forward. He felt something grabbing his leg, trying to keep him away. He knew he had to fight against it. If he stayed, then there would be no one to fight against his parents’ mistakes.

As he moved forward, the thing clutching his leg felt heavier and heavier. His steps became smaller and smaller. Maybe it was best if he stayed behind? Just as the it seemed that the thing would win, he broke free. He raced to the light, determined to not be trapped again.

“DANNY! DANNY!” Her heard a woman cry.

As he came closer, the light became a doorway. He smiled and stumbled across.

“Danny is that you?” Sam cried.

It worked?! Danny grinned. Everything would be fine now. Tomorrow there would be problems, but now there could be solutions. Ghosts would attack and he would be right there to stop them. The lack of sleep the previous night and the exhaustion of the portal claimed him. Danny fell into his last peaceful rest.

[aawesomepenguin]

RATING EVERY SONIC FROM THE SONIC MULTIVERSE

How much of a good boy they are? All of this in this thread.

Disclaimer: Of course, this is my opinion. You might feel different. You’re welcome to disagree!

(MAIN UNIVERSE - Universe 1991)

The Sonic from the games, a true good boy. He does things on his way, his own way, he aims to do what he believes is right, hates injustice. He cherishes his freedom above everything.

He loves to explore the world, always running around. Doesn’t have a house.

Doesn’t like to see tears. He also likes to crack some jokes to have fun with his friends. Is a hedgehog of action, usually doesn’t think twice before taking action.

Also has not shown much interest in doing romance.

10/10, this is my favorite Sonic

(UNIVERSE 1991A - 1991 Promotional Manga)

This Sonic is the vocalist of his world’s most famous band, and also has cool sharp fangs. A lot of human girls have a crush on him.There are certain rumors circulating around that he might be dating a human girl named Madonna... could it be true?

He is also a good boy, takes action when he sees others in danger, and is also determined to fight against injustice.

9/10

(UNIVERSE 1991B - American Sonic)

Originally brown, Sonic was a great friend of Dr. Ovi Kintobor, a good human scientist. Kintobor studied the Chaos Emeralds with the intention to get Mobius rid of all evil.

Kintobor gives Sonic cool new red sneakers as a gift, and after getting involved in an accident on one of Doctor’s inventions, Sonic turns blue. Eventually Sonic and Kintobor become enemies after the Doctor trips and breaks the machine that stored the Chaos Emeralds, becoming Robotnik.

A good boy, a dude with atitude, also way past cool, and full of 90s charm.

9/10

(UNIVERSE 1992 - Sonic the Hedgehog Manga)

Nicky is a shy boy, he has a younger sister, his father is a pilot, and his mom is a housewife. Nicky is a nerd dedicated to math and all kind of things related to it. He’s very coward and shy, and has a huge crush on Amy Rose.

But, when there’s danger on the horizon, Nicky’s second personality shows up! It’s Sonic, a way more brave dude, and with no reason to be shy! Sonic always fights against the tirany of the evil Dr. Eggman! After his duty of saving people is done, he turns back into Nicky.

Nicky does not have memories of what he did as Sonic, but Sonic retains the memories of what he does as Nicky. Nicky is a VERY good boy, a nerd, awkward and shy, I love him a lot 10/10

(UNIVERSE 1993 - ARCHIE’S SONIC/PRE-SGW) This Sonic is also a good boy. But, differently from the Sonic from the 1991 Universe, this Sonic is more “domestic”.

He has a place where he lives regularly, being it New Mobotropolis. He also has a father, mother, uncle and even a pet dog. This Sonic also does have some interest in dating/romance, having relationships with some girls in the past. But his main love is Sally, someone who he knows since he was a child. Currently dating Sally Acorn. But even with all of those differences, he still has a big sense of justice, always fighting agains Dr. Robotnik’s tirany and also Dr. Eggman’s. Just like some other Sonics, he sometimes allows his emotions to take over, which sometimes makes him do some unfortunate choices, but he eventually sees how he messed up and tries to do his best to fix things. This Sonic also has a certain ego, but he grows and learns as a person more and more as time passes. 9/10, a good boy

(UNIVERSE 1993B - SONIC THE COMIC)

This Sonic at first can see to be a little hard to approach. He has an even bigger ego than the other Sonics, and can say some things that can hurt his friend’s feelings.

But inside he is extremly unsure about himself, and tries to play “tough” in front of others to hide it. He also has shown some difficulty in reading other people’s emotions, which has put him in some complicated situations in the past.

He’s been trying to improve and be more friendly and approachable with others after being yelled at by Tails and Amy.

He has the same origins as American Sonic, being born brown and a friend of Kintobor. This Sonic was wrongly acused of crimes through an out of context video that was shown for all of Mobius to see. He’s been trying to regain people’s trust and show how much he has improved since.

His Super Sonic is an evil entity that has intentions of hurting all of those that Sonic cares about.

He is trying his best, 8/10

(UNIVERSE 1993C - AOSTH)

This Sonic is also a good boy. He’s an excelent older brother for Tails, that in this universe is only 4 and a half years old. Sonic always tries to be an exemplary figure for Tails.

He has atitude, likes to play and mess around, and lives running around Mobius. Just like Main Sonic, he also doesn’t have a house. He lives fighting all injustice wherever he goes through.

But, he can be a little bit of a womanizer, always getting himself a little carried away with the girls he crosses path with in his adventures. A cool dude, 9/10

(UNIVERSE 1993D - Sonic SatAM)

Blue streak. Speeds by, Sonic the Hedgehog. 

He’s a cool dude to talk and hang out with, he’s very chill. He can be a little bit of an airhead and is not very bright-- but in compensation he has a heart of gold, caring a lot about his friends and family. 

He also fights to have his Uncle Chuck back. Just like Archie Sonic, he also has a home. In this case being Knothole. But, now with Robotnik defeated, it’s maybe time to bring Mobotropolis back to its’ glory days.

He also has a big ego, and can be a little bit full of himself. But Sally keeps this side of him in check.

He dates Sally, that acts as Sonic’s conscience a lot of times.

A good boy, look out, when he storms through. He’s the fastest thing alive. 9/10.

(UNIVERSE 1994 - SONIC ADVENTURES)

This Sonic, just like Game Sonic, is full of attitude, brave, and fights against all kinds of evil he finds in his way.

He also becomes friend with an Echidna Lady. He has a thing going on with Amy Rose. He also has a cool mohawk.

8/10

(UNIVERSE 1996 - SONIC THE HEDGEHOG: THE MOVIE OVA)

This Sonic at first can seem a little bit arrogant, but inside he hides a huge heart full of compassion. He lives on a plane that crashed on South Island a long time ago, possibly the coolest house any Sonic has ever had.

Tails is his best friend, and lives together with him. Both usually either relax on the beach or go on adventures to fight against Dr. Eggman.

A very carefree Sonic, that takes action, and very rebellious.

10/10, an absolute good boy

(UNIVERSE 1997 - SONIC: MAN OF THE YEAR)

A Sonic that clearly fights against Eggman’s evil schemes for a long time. Was chosen as the Man of the year, even though he’s clearly a hedgehog.

Eggman ruins his image when disguises as him. I hope he got it back together, since we never got a continuation to this.

Just looking at him, you can tell he’s full of charm and has that Animaniacs flair in his animation, just from this alone I give him a 9/10

(UNIVERSE 1996B - SONIC THE HEDGEHOG: WONDERS OF THE WORLD)

This Sonic, unlike others, is a fictional character even in his own universe. He ends up going to the real world through an invention done by Josh’s dad. Josh is a real world kid that becomes Sonic’s friend.

This Sonic is a good boy, he believes that the powers of the Chaos Emeralds shouldn’t be used so carelessy, and helps Josh fights against his insecurities, while at the same time he saves his world from the evil Dr. Robotnik, that also ran away from the videogame world.

7/10

(UNIVERSE 1999 - SONIC UNDERGROUND)

He swore his mother will be found. He was raised by Uncle Chuck. He also wants to save Mobotropolis. He’s also a prince, being the son of Mobotropolis’ original Queen, Aleena.

He has two siblings, Manic and Sonia, and while they ocasionally fight between themselves, they care a lot about each other.

He also plays musical instruments, he can invoke a guitar through his necklace. Playing music somehow solves his problems.

7.5/10, a good boy

(UNIVERSE 2003 - SONIC X)

One of my favorite Sonics. This Sonic is more calm and reserved. Loves to take naps. He is usually more reserved about his emotions, and hates to show emotional weaknesses in front of others.

He likes to read, hates injustice, and likes to pass most of his time alone. But he is shown sometimes to have a romantic interest in Amy Rose.

Extremely helpful, always tries to do his best to make his friends happy. Ditches a meeting with the president to make his friend happy.

An EXTREMELY good boy, 10/10 for him 

(UNIVERSE 2003B - SONIC: DASH & SPIN)

This Sonic is probably one of the zaniest Sonics there is, he’s pretty up there with AoStH Sonic. He fights against Eggman’s evil plots, that in this universe can go from stealing a bank to using Sonic’s flu to cover the world with his snot (I’m serious).

He also can count with his friends for help, is full of attitude, nothing will stop him. He likes snowboarding.

7/10. 

(UNIVERSE 2013 - ARCHIE SONIC POST-SGW)

This Sonic resembles Game Sonic in a lot of ways, but he is also part of the Freedom Fighters. But he also likes to have his own adventures across his world.

This Sonic, diferent from his other Archie version, isn’t much interested in dating.

He cares a lot about his friends, but he don’t want them to worry a lot about him, usually hiding any signs of weakness.

In general, a good boy, and an excelent friend you can trust.

10/10

(UNIVERSE 2014 - SONIC BOOM)

This Sonic, like Archie’s Pre-SGW Sonic, is also very domestic. He has a house, lives in a calm island, and just likes to have fun with his friends, specially Knuckles and Tails.

He has a huge crush on Amy Rose, and there are a lot of signs pointing that they are boyfriend and girlfriend.

He likes to constantly foil Eggman’s schemes, saving the Bygone Island a LOT of times.

He can lose his patience sometimes due to dumb stuff said or done by his friends or townsfolk; or also with the surreal situations he gets involved.

9/10

(UNIVERSE 2011 - CLASSIC SONIC’S DIMENSION)

After the events of Sonic Generations, the timeline has split in two, thanks to alterations done to the past. Because of this, we’re having brand new adventures with Classic Sonic.

He’s also a good boy, fights against all kind of evil he faces against, and cares a lot about his friends. Doesn’t talk much, prefering to keep quiet during most of his adventures. 10/10, a cute mute wholesome boy

(UNIVERSE 2018 - IDW'S SONIC THE HEDGEHOG)

Passing in an universe after the events of Sonic Forces, IDW’s Sonic is, in a lot of ways, the Sonic from the games.

He has no fixed place to live in, always running around, making this his own way. Is constantly fighting against Dr. Eggman.

He usually believes that everyone can get redeemed or improve. This sometimes can come back to bite him in the ass, though.

A good boy, 9/10. Give him some rest, let him sleep

(UNIVERSE 2020 - THE SONIC MOVIE)

This Sonic found himself on Earth after running away from his home planet. He becomes best friends with the Sheriff of the city of Green Hills. He ends up being adopted by him. Tom is now his dad.

He is super hyperactive, full of energy and can get easily distracted. He is a Sonic that doesn’t have much of a notion on how big the world can be. Some times can feel very lonely. Unlike some other Sonics, he seeks affection and interaction with others, doesn’t like being alone.

An absolute good boy, I LOVE HIM A LOT, 10/10

(UNIVERSE ZERO - ZONIC THE ZONE COP)

Zonic is responsible for patroling the Sonic Multiverse, checking if everything is in order. He takes his profession very seriously.

Works for Zobotnik, as much as he believes that Zobotnik shouldn’t be the one protecting the Multiverse prison.

This Sonic is a lot more serious and mature than the others, but he has shown to have a sense of humor to the Sonic from the 1993 Universe.

8/10. This Sonic isn’t a good boy though, he is a good man.

(ALTERNATE 1993 UNIVERSE - SCOURGE THE HEDGEHOG)

Coming from a mirror dimension from the 1993 Universe, Scourge was born in an extremly peaceful Moebius. His father was a politician loved by all. Scourge felt neglected by him, deciding to become a rebellious punk to tease and provoke his father.

He forms the Supression Squad with Anti-Sally,  Anti-Tails, Anti-Rotor and Anti-Antoine. They decide to commit acts of vandalism and robbery all across Moebius.

Scourge also antagonizes Dr. Kintobor, a benevolent scientist that tries to bring the best for the Planet’s citizens.

Eventually he becomes the King of Moebius, but Sonic managed do defeat him. He plans to have his revenge on Sonic. This one is a bad boy, he’s an asshole Sonic. I kinda like him. 8/10.

(UNIVERSE 1993E - CYBORG SONIC)

In this universe, Robotnik manages to capture the Freedom Fighters, but something goes awry during the roboticization process, and as a result, Sonic and the others ended up as cyborgs.

A lot more stronger than they originally were, the Freedom Fighters decide to end with Robotnik once for all. But, Robotnik roboticizes himself as a last ditch resort, becoming the mighty Robo-Robotnik.

6.5/10, he mostly exists to make The Terminator References

(UNIVERSE 1993F - SONIC BATMAN)

He is the night. He is also the speed. 

8/10.

(UNIVERSE 616 - SONIC WOLVERINE)

An angry Canadian Sonic with claws.

8/10.

(UNIVERSE 697 - FREEDOM FIGHTERS OF THE GALAXY) This Sonic spent a while in space after some circunstances. Thanks to Einsten’s Law of Relativity, when he returns to Mobius, 2000 years have gone by. This Sonic allies himself with the descendants of the Freedom Dighters, and tries to stop Silver Snively and Robotniklactus’ evil schemes.

He’s kinda lame. A 5/10.

(UNIVERSE 1993FT - Light Mobius)

This Sonic accomplished defeating Robotnik, and with Mobius finally in peace, he married Princess Sally. He grew up, became an adult and had kids.

But he didn’t count with the fact that Robotnik had a Plan B-- the scientist sent his inteligence to a space ship, and from space he sent nukes to Mobius-- killing this version of Sonic in the process. This Robotnik would eventually go to universe 1993 and adopt the name of Eggman.

F to pay respects for this Sonic. F/10.

(UNIVERSE 1993FT2 - MOBIUS X YEARS LATER)

This Sonic went through a lot. After having to rewrite his own timeline to save the universe, he had to win back his friends’ friendship and the love of his life, Sally.He eventually marries Sally, has two kids, and lives happily. Can you believe this Sonic is almost 50 years old? He’s 47 years old!8/10, a good dad

[angstyaches]

The Demon Who Knows You

CW: emeto, threat of violence (knife). 

Happens (almost) simultaneously to Pt. 11: The Demon You Know

Swallow the World: The Ouija Board Pt. 12

He didn’t know why the forest and the dark seemed to press in on him more than they usually did. He didn’t know why the idea of Rin and Charlie doing this without him seemed to make the cramps in his stomach even more unbearable.

He didn’t know why he had come to a stop next to a nondescript tree, snapping a nondescript twig under foot.

He didn’t know why his fingers, already inside his jacket pocket, closed around the hilt of the switch knife Elliott had given him. He so far hadn’t believed that it would be any good against demons, but apparently Nancy had said that it would be effective against all entities, earthly or not.

The hair stood up on the back of Shayne’s neck and his breath billowed out into a light fog.

“Nice of you to send me away,” he murmured, rolling his jaw in its socket, “so I won’t have to kill you in front of Charlie.”

He slowly turned around. The figure standing a few feet back from him had long, twisting horns rising up out of its pale grey skull, empty sockets somehow staring at him from the shadows. It towered at about eight feet tall, branch-like arms hanging by its sides.

No demon had ever appeared before him so clearly, with this level of abject beauty and clarity. The thing didn’t move. It didn’t have to. Shayne could still feel himself in its sights, neither prey nor predator, yet inherently both.

“Not that I have to ask,” Shayne said, “but what’s your name?”

He could have sworn he saw a flash of blue across the eye sockets of the demon’s skull. “Charlie.”

That made Shayne clench his fists, bringing his awareness back to the switch knife. “You mean Charlie Two.”

“You know I can only say what I mean,” they replied. “You can call me Charlie Two, if you prefer. But I wish you wouldn’t say it like it’s a curse.”

The figure took a step forward, and Shayne matched it with a step backwards.

“You are a curse,” Shayne hissed. “You uprooted Charlie’s whole existence. And not only that, you somehow stole his name. It’s all kinds of fucked up. A demon killed both my parents, but I still think I hate you more than I hate that one.”

“You never told me that.”

Shayne’s heart sank. The tightening ache in his gut was making him irrational. Shit, he’d never have devoured a demon earlier in the evening if he’d known he’d have all of this to deal with tonight.

“That’s why you always ask for the names,” Charlie Two realised, taking another step forward. “You’re looking for the demon who killed your parents.”

“Shut the fuck up, right now.”

“What was the name?”

“What?”

“It’s been a long time since I was there, but maybe I remember enough to tell you if they’re in the other dimension or not.”

“I – I don’t –” Shayne swallowed, tightening his grip on the blade’s handle. “I don’t know it off the top of my head, but one day, one of you fuckers is going to say it and I’ll recognise it, and I’ll pull them apart into a million pieces and devour the pieces one by one over weeks and months, and –”

Charlie Two took yet another step forward, and Shayne lifted his blade.

“Whoa, it’s okay.” Charlie Two shook their head slowly. “It’s okay. I was scared of you, too, when I first realised what you were.”

“Scared? Don’t fucking flatter yourself,” Shayne spat. “You’re nothing but a parasite.”

“Shayne, I’m not a parasite,” the demon said. “Charlie and I grew up together. We grew up as one. All the things you feel for Charlie, you feel for me too. The Charlie who listens to you, comforts you, worries about you?”

“Shut up.”

“There have been times when I know you knew it was me speaking to you. Things Charlie One might think, but not feel brave enough to say.”

“I said sh–” Shayne’s hand flew to his mouth as he felt liquid overflow from his lips. He hadn’t even realised he’d started salivating. He turned his head to spit onto the forest floor, gasping at the sudden wrenching in his stomach. His mouth kept watering, and he desperately gulped it back. God, this was so fucking weird.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck off.” Shayne waved a hand as he sensed the figure moving a little closer. “No, seriously, don’t – don’t.”

He felt his lips pull back over his teeth, his jaw ready to pop at a moment’s notice, and that feeling in his belly, well, now it was… hollow and clawing and demanding.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never felt like I wanted to devour a demon in my whole life,” Shayne breathed, “until just this second.”

Shayne flipped his blade over in his hand, nerve endings tingling. He shoved the blade into the bark of a tree, pinning Charlie Two to the same trunk with his own body. The demon’s movements were swift, but they didn’t seem all too eager to get away from him.

In reality, Charlie Two was already missing Charlie One’s flesh and the sensation of being on solid ground; in this state, they felt like they might as well have been a puddle of standing water. If Shayne decided he truly wanted to kill and devour them, there was very little they’d be able to do about it.

“Scared of this thing?” Shayne asked, nodding to the knife. “It can really kill you?”

“You don’t want to kill me,” Charlie Two assured him. “You would have done it just now, or injured me. Made me an easier catch.” Charlie Two flicked their wrist, causing the blade to dislodge from the bark with a crack. It hurtled and flipped in the air before landing dully on the forest floor.

“Yeah, well,” Shayne said, stretching his jaw. “Maybe I want to feel you wriggle on the way down.”

Charlie Two chuckled deeply. “Or maybe you forgot I could do this.”

The air was pushed from Shayne’s lungs by some invisible thrust that flung him ten feet off the ground. His back thumped against a tree before he dropped, almost sticking the landing before his legs gave out and he sank to the floor. Pieces of bark rolled off his back, through something longer – maybe a broken-off branch, seemed to have stabbed lightly into the back of his right leg.

The impact had knocked all of that dark, clawing appetite out of him, leaving just the nausea and cramping from his earlier victim. Shayne dug his fingers into the earth and opened his mouth as his stomach rolled, squeezing up acid and short bursts of air.

A rustling in the shadows made him turn his head, and he began to recoil across the ground. He couldn’t see the demon, but it had disguised itself beneath the leaves and he could sense it coming closer. Usually, he could easily trap it with a warding jar, but he’d left them all in the other end of the forest, not wanting to bring any too close to Charlie. Shit.

The thing slithered up out of the leaves and froze, its shadowy face distorting as it was flung back, hurtling into the dark. Charlie Two’s wide, flowing form warped into view, placing itself in the demon’s path. The sound they made was so deafening, so otherworldly, that Shayne curled up into a ball, hands clamped over his ears. He started retching again, though this time nothing left his mouth but strangled coughs.

“Ah – oh, god, are you okay?” Charlie Two gasped, the words abruptly cutting off the warning roar.

“Fucking hell,” Shayne groaned, still curled up on the forest floor. “You can scare them off like that? Then what the hell have I been doing? Keeping the forest clear for no reason?”

“I didn’t know I could, I - I’m sorry I threw you so hard.” They had forgotten how much stronger their supernatural abilities were in this form; they had tempered them for Charlie One’s sake for so long.

“Apologising for defending yourself?” Shayne coughed and slid his weight back onto his legs, covering his mouth with his hand. “You actually might be my Charlie after all.”

A chuckle. “Your Charlie?”

Shayne looked straight up to see Charlie Two standing over him, a hand outstretched. He gritted his teeth as his own poor choice of words. He took the hand, electrical energy pulsing through his skin as the demon touched him. Charlie Two hoisted him up effortlessly. Shayne froze, waiting to see if his stomach had settled. His insides were still riddled with pain, but maybe he could avoid gagging again until he was out of the forest

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up,” he snapped, wrapping one arm around his waist, one hand still clutching Charlie Two’s. “When I said – I meant the Charlie I know…”

“Oh, you know me, Shayne Devine.” Charlie Two’s shadowy fingers stroked at Shayne’s wrist, like they were feeling for the warm back-and-forth of his veins under his skin. “And I know you. You already devoured today, didn’t you? That’s why you’re sick to your stomach.”

“Just shut up,” Shayne said, though the venom wasn’t there. He shook the demon’s hands away.

“Or what?” Charlie Two lightly ran the back of a finger under Shayne’s chin, the cold touch making him jerk his head upright. “You’ll devour me?”

Something in the statement sounded vaguely like a taunt, yet Shayne could almost imagine a mischievous glint in Charlie Two’s hauntingly hollow eye sockets. A glint he recognised from so many glances from Charlie One, some of them nervous, some of them accompanied by a smile. The touch, despite how cold it was, reminded him too much of the way Charlie had turned his head in the kitchen, his eyes soft and loving, before leaning in with his mouth.

He pulled back from the touch.

“I’ll take that as a no, and I’ll try not to take it as an insult.”

Charlie Two reached over to pluck away a piece of dried leaf from Shayne’s jacket. Shayne had never looked so long or so hard into a demon’s face before, yet this felt like nothing new.

“What happens..?” He cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “What happens to Charlie when you’re not with him?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been away from him.”

“He needs you, doesn’t he?”

“We need each other.”

Shayne swallowed, the ache in his stomach turning dull and cold, creeping up around his ribs. “Go back to him. Please.”

“Alright,” Charlie Two whispered. “I’ll be seeing you, Shayne. Even if you refuse to see me.”

Shayne closed his eyes, afraid that he’d be tempted to follow. Part of him hoped to see Charlie Two still standing there with him, waiting to convince him to come back to the house too, but when he opened his eyes, he was alone. He swallowed again, suppressing a shiver as he retrieved Elliott’s knife from the ground and turning to head home to the Devines’ mansion.

[pollylynn]

Title: Some Assembly WC: 900

A/N: This assumes the originally intended airing order, where Poof! You’re Dead comes first and Castle and Gina have already parted ways. This episode makes no sense to me, otherwise.

He can’t figure out what to do with Natalie Rhodes. Not the woman herself. She, thankfully, is long gone. But it seems impossible that such a character—such a very strange seventy-two hours—wouldn’t somehow find their way into the book he’s supposed to be writing. And Gina, in the final analysis, might not have been right about a lot of things, but he certainly he ought to be writing the damned book. He’s not really writing the book though, and at the moment, he tells himself it’s almost entirely because he can’t figure out what to do with Natalie Rhodes.

Part of it is the fact that she’s unbelievable. He taps away, recording literal events—like her “Basic Famous Person Disguise” and the fact that she apparently travels with ready-to sign, full-sized headshots tucked into her cleavage or something—and it reads as some kind of overblown caricature.

That shouldn’t particularly bother him. Everything LA is overblown by New York standards, and he could certainly walk a B-level starlet in and out of Nikki’s world in a cool ten pages. His readers would let him get away with it. But he kind of doesn’t want to get away with it.

It’s partly the brief glimpses of the woman as an actual person. He recognizes the genuine insecurity that feeds the attention-seeking beast, courtesy of his mother, of Meredith, of however many performers he’s killed time with. And Lord knows he relates to the instant, all-consuming infatuation with a certain NYPD Detective.


And that’s also part of it. That might be the largest part of why he doesn’t know what to do with Natalie Rhodes. Because in the critical moment he knew exactly what he was not going to do with Natalie Rhodes, and that’s . . . taking up a great deal of headspace.

Her sudden appearance, bewigged and bedecked in what she must have thought was dead-on Beckett Wear, had thrown him, to say the least. He’d already been warming to her, in both fact and Beckett-irritating fiction as the shine good Detective had taken to her would-be portrayer had started to tarnish. And there’d been some definite appeal in finding himself the sudden center of Ms. Rhodes’ attention, especially after twenty-four hours of being treated like a coat rack.

There’s a logical outcome to all that. There’s a scene that writes itself, where he, having recently escaped the decidedly chilly confines of a decaying relationship with his ex-wife, succumbs to the flattering and insistent advances of a Hollywood starlet—B-level or not—who wants to role-play their current, mutual dream woman.

It writes itself, but that’s not what happened, and he doesn’t know what to do with events as they failed to unfold. He doesn’t know how to explain his No in the critical moment. He doesn’t know who there really is to explain it to, not at this late date, anyway.

He thinks it might come down to a cardboard box. His pen finally begins to move across the page as he tries to make sense of that peculiar thought. He feels the slight weight of the box under his arm, its uncomfortable dimensions digging into his armpit and making his shoulder ache in the few, dazed moments that he held it as he gawked at the vision Natalie had conjured up. He thinks it comes down to the thunk of a mostly empty box hitting tiled floor of the elevator car.

It’s synesthesia, that hollow sound. It’s a too-apt metaphor that captures the critical, illogical, unalterable moment he knew exactly what he was not going to do with Natalie Rhodes, because his dream woman isn’t a dream woman at all. She’s not built up from seventy-two hours and a special delivery box, any more than she’s an invention of his overactive mind and his pen finally moving across the page.

She—Beckett—is irreducible, and it’s not at all Natalie Rhodes he doesn’t know what to do with.

He hangs his head. The lined yellow page he’s landed on is close to full, and it has four or five friends that have come before. It’s kind of pathetic, but it’s more than he’s written in far too long, even if it’s unlikely to do him any good at all. He caps his fountain pen and pushes back from the desk. He gets to his feet then leaves them again the next second.

He plants his butt back in the damned office chair and rolls hard enough into the desk’s wooden edge that it knocks the breath out of him for a long, painful moment. It’s another too-apt metaphor, he thinks as he props the pad off to his left and pulls the laptop toward him.

He forces himself to make something of the scenario. He forces his fingers to move across the keys. He writes Rook into temptation and an overblown, B-level starlet, fresh off the studio-funded jet from LA finds her way into Nikki’s world, along with the emphatic, absolutely unambiguous No. 

It works on the page. There’s nothing illogical or unbelievable about it there. Rook peels the starlet off his body and emphatically says he loves Nikki. He loves her, and his head is not about to be turned by some pale imitation, direct from a cardboard box.

A/N: Little boxes on the hillside. Hmmm.

images via homeofthenutty

[babywarg]

[untitled Ironstrange excerpt]

Note: May be largely offline for the next 36 hours, so I don’t think I’ll be able to finish this over the weekend, but I wanted to put something up anyway. For the bingo square “Water,” but I’m not going to tag the bingo folk for this until the whole thing is done.

I am running very late for my out-of-town bus so...posting this now and apologizing in advance for any typos or continuity/grammatical errors. This will highly likely be edited before it gets finished and goes into AO3.

 ***

Tony wasn't warned that when the sorcerer "died," he was going to haunt Tony's dreams.

"...Well, that's creepy," were Tony's first words upon finding out. “Could’ve told me earlier you can do that.”

“It was a last-minute sort of thing,” was the vague, quiet explanation.

"Does that mean you're not really dead?"

"It means I've found a way to escape being completely banished from this reality,” Stephen calmly explained. “I wouldn't call it 'not dead,' as I don't have a body anymore. I’m still technically around, I’m just not able to interact with anything outside of the dream dimension.”

Tony blinked. “The what now?”

“The dream - “ Wrong approach. He had to make it simpler. “- okay, your dream, specifically. A couple of people’s dreams.”

"You mean I’m not the only one who enjoys this special privilege?” Tony asked with a hefty dose of sarcasm, folding his arms across his chest.

“No,” Stephen answered, deadpan. “I can visit a few other humans. Other sorcerers. There’s Wong, for example - you remember him?”

“Course I remember,” Tony snapped. “He was the one of the only two wizards I know who didn’t let Thanos waste half the universe.”

Stephen paused. A small, frustrated sigh escaped him.

“You’re still sore about that...”

“Yeah, no shit,” Tony replied. “Since you can go bother other people, why don’t you go ahead and do that?”

“I need to talk to you, Tony.”

“Yeah, well, tough.” Tony scowled. “I’m in a life-or-death situation outside of this dream, and I doubt anything you tell me can make a difference.”

Tony’s spite burned, but was far from unforgiving.

There was still a flicker in his eyes, which asked Why? Why did you do it? Why me?

It told Stephen that Tony needed time.

"Don't worry," Stephen assured him. "you'll forget we ever talked when you wake up."

Before Tony could ask what he meant, he vanished, leaving Tony to see the rest of his dream through.

 ***

 But time was something Stephen didn’t have in abundance. He had to hurry it along somehow.

He had to set the scene.

The last time they spoke, in the real world, Tony was in a broken ship, with a daughter of Thanos, millions of light years away from Earth.

The barely-moving derelict’s supplies were running out. The daughter of Thanos, not human, could barely understand Tony’s need for human contact at that bleak, desperate moment.

All this, Stephen learned by observing Tony as he dreamed of soft beds, cheeseburgers, coffee, friends’ laughter, and the warm embrace of the woman he wanted to marry.

In the dream dimension, Stephen couldn’t see into Tony’s thoughts, but he could see Tony’s desires and fears.

Tony was afraid he wouldn’t see Earth again.

Deathly afraid.

Knowing that helped Stephen figure out what to do.

So the next time he and Tony spoke, it was in the premises of a cozy lakeside cabin, facing out into the water.

The house wasn’t familiar to Tony. Not yet. But when he materialized on the porch in his dream, he took to the place instantly.

“I see you’ve redecorated,” he remarked, clearly impressed. “This place isn’t bad.”

“You should know, you chose it.” Stephen caught himself and added, “Well...will choose it. And it isn’t actually you, but Ms. Potts who’ll be doing the choosing. It’ll take you the better part of a year to warm up to it, but you’ll get there.”

Tony said nothing. He was looking out into the placid water. Stephen looked out of it, as well.

“This was - is - will be - your favorite spot.”

“Has anyone ever told you how weird you are?”

Stephen didn’t miss the acid in Tony’s voice. But he chose to ignore it.

“Think of this as a vacation house. A place where you can recover.” He continued slowly, “I know that I left you in a...difficult place.”

Tony snorted. “A difficult place” was a hell of a euphemism for “floating in space with fast-depleting resources and no hope of rescue.”

“You need your strength, so it’s important that you rest,” Stephen said, with undisguised warmth. “We’ll have time to talk later.”

Tony could have had a comeback to that, but he was tired...so tired. He was often tired in real life, but he couldn’t disguise it in his dreams.

And the man who walked his dreams, who could see what he hid inside of them, left him quietly to recuperate.

[tbc]

[chaptersinprogress]

the prank wars  |  day 1

When Tsuna finally managed to catch his breath after his mini-freakout, he sat himself on his bed and asked himself the most important question: What Would Reborn Do?

He had figured out during his training that Reborn’s way of thinking, while certainly unconventional, often lead to the best results. Of course, Tsuna usually had to scale down the sheer amount of chaos when doing so. His sadistic demon tutor existed on another dimension.

Rating: T

Warnings: bad language

Pairings: NIL

Prompt: One can of squeeze cheese down, and I had no intention of stopping - by @short-story-slam

When Tsuna finally managed to catch his breath after his mini-freakout, he sat himself on his bed and asked himself the most important question: What Would Reborn Do?

He had figured out during his training that Reborn’s way of thinking, while certainly unconventional, often lead to the best results. Of course, Tsuna usually had to scale down the sheer amount of chaos when doing so. His sadistic demon tutor existed on another dimension.

But maybe, this time, his tutor’s mindset was exactly what he needed. He was being graded by some of the best in their fields - and they thrived on violence and danger. But while Tsuna had no intentions of causing permanent injury, he certainly could pull off Chaos. And at the heart of every good prank was the Golden Rule.

Confuse, don’t abuse.

Tsuna let a small smile spread across his face. Yeah, he could actually do this. He’d wage the most confusing prank war against the deadliest force in Namimori. And he’d make sure he won.

(Reborn was rubbing off on him too much)

He’d start slow, and work his way into even more Chaos. But what should he start with first...

“Tenth?” asked Gokudera, puzzled by the evil grin he spotted decorating Tsuna’s face as he opened the door. The silver-haired Italian was dressed in sports attire and toweled his hair as he walked further into the room.

“Ah, Hayato! I’ve been thinking about what I’ve been assigned to do,” Tsuna replied. “Where did you go?” he asked his friend curiously.

Gokudera shrugged. “Just to the gym, Tenth. Wanted to get some exercise in to help with the jet-lag.”

Tsuna nodded along, yeah, jet-lag was terri-

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Gokudera shuddered. The evil grin was back. Tsuna remained oblivious of his friend’s reaction, too busy making plans. He knew exactly what he had in mind for the first prank. And thankfully, he had a Vongola credit card and a private delivery service to make it happen. But before that, he had a phone call to make.

At 5pm the next day, an ear-splitting ringing sound echoed throughout the police station.

The police chief’s office door slammed open.

“What is that noise?” asked Hibari in a dangerously low voice.

The poor officer whose area the noise seemed to be originating from, was frantically tossing his things around, trying to locate the source of disturbance. Hibari watched his underling panic with narrowed eyes. After another 20 seconds of futile hunting, the officer managed to find the culprit. As he slammed his palm over the item, the ringing stopped and gave way to dead silence. No one dared breathe as Hibari prowled towards the shaking officer.

“Are you so eager to go home that you set an alarm for the end of work?” he asked slowly.

“N-n-no s-sir,” the officer stammered. “I have n-never owned such a clock before s-s-sir. I have only used my phone for alarms. I-I don’t know where this came from.”

Hibari eyed the man. He didn’t seem to be lying, he was far too terrified of his superior for that.

His tonfa smashed into the clock, shattering it to pieces. The officer flinched.

“Let this be a warning,” Hibari said, straightening up. “I tolerate no such disturbances. Anyone who tries suc-”

The room was filled with the screaming tones of more alarms.

As 11.20pm ticked on by without interruption, Kusakabe let out a sigh of relief as he eyed his twitching leader carefully.

The alarms had been ringing non-stop at increasing intervals of time. After the second batch of alarms had been destroyed by his irate boss, new ones had rung again at 5.05pm, then at 5.15pm, once more at 5.40pm, and every 20 minutes after that.

They had found the cheap clocks in the strangest of places - buried deep the gravel of random indoor potted plants, hidden between the pipes of the pantry sinks, placed above AC vents, and most memorably, ziplock-bagged inside all the toilet tanks of all the restrooms.

There was now a pile of smashed alarm clock parts outside the building. Their search had unearthed nearly 200 of them. And his tonfa-happy superior had taken out his anger on them and during the extra “physical training” he had assigned to the unfortunate underlings. Hibari-sama had not been pleased to discover that no one among the ranks was responsible as it meant that there had been a security breach. And he was even more displeased to find out that the security tapes for the night before had been hacked into and replaced with a blank screen and neon pink text reading “PRANK IN PROGRESS”.

The final nail in the coffin was hammered in at the end of the recording. “YOUR MOVE” was final message that had been left behind by the mysterious prankster. It was clear that a gauntlet had been thrown.

Far away in Italy, the judges and the Ninth watched the montage Spanner had so thoughtfully created for them.

Xanxus snorted, “Heh. Looks like the small trash has guts after all.”

“My, my,” said Timoteo. “Tsunayoshi has really stirred the hornets’ nest.”

Reborn drew his fedora further over his eyes and smirked. His student had learnt well.

“Well played No Good-Tsuna. Well played,” he whispered.

Back at the hotel, Tsuna and Gokudera howled with laughter as they watched the chaos unfurl.

“Aw man,” said Tsuna as he flopped onto the bed. “Hibari-san’s gonna be super mad now. But I don’t think he’s gonna look for me yet.”

“Yeah,” chuckled Gokudera, wiping away tears. “He’d probably think that some local delinquents are the ones responsible. Whacha gonna do next Tenth?”

Tsuna hummed. He had technically announced that Hibari-san would have to make the next move. But then he might as well take advantage of the fact that no one would expect him to attack again. Especially if he did so when everyone had just let their guard down. That would definitely make Hibari-san pay attention.

He turned to his best friend and said, “I have a plan. But we’re gonna have to head to the next town’s shops.”

Gokudera smirked. “And we’ll need disguises.”

At 4am in the morning, as the duo crept to the building, Tsuna signalled their arrival to Spanner. Spanner was helping them remotely, looping the footage of each corridor one at a time to prevent the movements of the guards from not showing up. That would be a clear indicator that someone uninvited was there. They split up and slipped past the patrols to their respective destinations.

Tsuna cracked open one of his cans of squeeze cheese and emptied it into his targets. He had no intention of stopping now; he had committed himself.

They worked their way though through the building top down. Luckily for them, most of the guards had been sent home and the rest were nodding off from exhaustion of the day and their punishment.

Tsuna paused as he passed by Hibari-san’s office. He should make sure that Hibari-san understood that it was meant to be a prank war so that he wouldn’t go around beating people up. His luck was somehow still holding as he found the office deserted.

Finished with his handiwork, he stepped backwards and grinned. He couldn’t wait to see how Hibari-san would react.

[videogamelover99]

The Pine Tree

A/N: Heyyy guys long time no see? Yes, writing this latest chapter was like wresting a rattlesnake while balancing a few ceramic plates on top of my head, but here it is! Plus I already started working on the new one, so hopefully it’ll be out relatively soon. In the meantime, enjoy this small detour before the plot rears its ugly head again. 

Au by @doodledrawsthings, based on Flat Dreams by @pengychan.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

“Hey, who’s the new guy? He’s kinda cute.”

Dipper tore his eyes away from the book he was reading to stare at Wendy in mute horror. She was glancing from the corner of her eye at Bill, who had taken the opportunity to rearrange all the snow globes on the shelves as a petty way to spite Grunkle Stan. Why they even let Bill into the gift shop was anyone’s guess. So far, all he managed to do was to scare away customers and give everyone a headache. No one recognized him so far, which was a good thing, but most of these people were just passing through the town anyway, and had no idea about the disaster that took place last summer.

Wendy had just come back from a hiking vacation with her family, and since nobody expected her to be back so soon, they had no idea what to do with Bill. Dipper assumed they would have to tell her eventually, seeing how she was a regular employee, and was definitely smart enough to connect the dots by herself at some point. Better to warn her ahead of time than to wait until she dragged in an exorcist or something. Not that Dipper though it would work. At all.

But Hearing his past crush call the devil in disguise “cute” was something vaguely traumatic. And it showed, because Wendy suddenly looked concerned. “Hey Dipper, are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen Stan in his underwear again.”

“I-uh.” the boy cast a look at Bill, who was now stacking the Mr.Mystery bobbleheads into a pyramid, humming something under his breath. He would have to tell Wendy. Better do that sooner than wait for her to find out on her own. “Wendy, I gotta tell you something-”

“HEY RED! PUMA SHIRT OR PANTHER SHIRT?” Dipper froze.

Wendy turned to look at the demon, who was now wrestling two hangers in his hands, and squinted a bit. “Dude, just buy both. That’s what the mayor did.” The teenager turned back to look at Dipper, then did a double take. Her eyes traveled from Bill to the bobblehead pyramid he constructed, then back to Bill.

Dipper grew more worried, hoping to stop, or at least control the train of thought the girl was aboard. “Uh, Wendy? I gotta-”

“Sorry Dipper, you can tell me your thing in a sec.” she looked as pale as a sheet, and before Dipper could stop her she leaped over the checkout booth, a murderous glint in her eye. Oh boy.

There was a scream, followed by lots of yelling, cursing, and flying merchandise. Dipper winced, hiding behind the cash register just in case.

…

“So you don’t know why he’s like this?”

“Dipper, if a month ago you would have told me Bill Cipher would be living under our roof, I would have had an aneurysm.” His great uncle pushed up his glasses, a habit that Dipper had learned was a pondering one. Then he frowned, his his gaze distant. “Did, did she tell you anything? Any information about this situation we have?” Dipper sat up straighter.

“Uh, no?” he answered, shrugging uncomfortably. “I mean, she told me a lot about how her stuff works. And to be honest, it kinda looked like she wanted to...get rid of us? Not in a bad sense!” he corrected himself at the scientist’s questioning expression. “Just, I kinda think she wanted to...talk to Bill? So she sent us off? I mean, from what I could tell it looked like the two had history. And knowing Bill, it probably wasn’t good. So, uh, yeah?” The teen fidgeted in his seat, staring at his unfinished cup of tea in silence.

“I see. And the scissors?” Grunkle Ford looked deep in thought, chewing on one sparkly pens Mabel had gotten him for Christmas.

“Mabel has them. You gotta ask her.”

“No no, that’s quite alright. She can keep them for now.” Stanford stood up, the unfinished tea, which had probably cooled by now, still in front of him. “Well, if there’s anything concerning you, feel free to share it with me. For now, I feel like it’s about time I graded some papers.”

Dipper hopped off his chair, straightening his hunting hat. “Same goes for you, Grunkle Ford.”

“Of course, of course.” The man gave him a forced smile, and Dipper had a feeling Grunkle Ford was just waiting for him to go. Far from being offended, the boy kinda understood. Sometimes a guy just needed to think, and other people tended to distract from that. Dipper turned to leave with a parting wave, and had just reached the elevator doors when he heard a familiar, yet very unwelcome voice echo through the wide expanse of the room.

“Wow, this place is a mess.”

How had Bill even gotten down here without running into Dipper? Was he like, lurking in the shadows? Because that was seriously creepy.

“What do you want now, Cipher?” Grunkle Ford sounded tired. Dipper probably shouldn’t be hiding around the corner, spying on...whatever was happening. But curiosity was a temptation Dipper could never resist, so he stayed anyway.

“Like I need a reason to visit an old friend.”

“Have you forgotten the part where you betrayed me and tortured me?”

“Huh, kinda. But considering that you literally set me on fire,” there was a loud creak as Bill sat down in the chair Dipper had been occupying not even a minute before. “you could say we’re kinda even.”

There was a long lasting silence as Stanford glared at the man across from him. “Have you come here just to bother me? Or is there something you want?”

“Hey, what’s with the cold shoulder, Fordsy? You’re actin’ like I just threatened your friends and family right in front of ya.”

“Cipher.” there was a dangerous tone in Ford’s voice, something that even made Dipper have chills down his spine. In a flash, Bill’s whole demeanor changed, the causal, teasing mood replaced by something much more serious.

“Fine. Where are the scissors? I need them.” So Bill wasn’t lurking around during their conversation. That was good, at least.

“What for?” the dangerous tone was still there. “And if you think we’d just let you go prattling into another dimension, you’re greatly mistaken.”

“Wow, haven’t slept in weeks, and you still manage to sound all heroic and stuff? Kudos to that.”

“What do you want them for?” Stanford tried again, this time sounding a bit more forceful.

“Noneya business. But I’m guessing you don’t have them.”

“If you’re thinking you can just-”

“Well, BEEN NICE TALKING TO YA. Even WITH THOSE AMATEUR PRYING EYES RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER.” Bill jumped off his seat, and Dipper scrambled for a hiding place. Seriously, how did Bill do that? The boy scrambled behind a tower of dirty cardboard boxes, hoping they were enough to cover him up. He watched Bill pass him buy, and the demon suddenly shot a wide grin in Dipper’s direction, his eyes boring into the teen’s. And then he was gone.

Dipper breathed deeply, trying to calm down his racing heart. It was fine, Bill was just messing with him. It’s not like the demon could actually hurt him. The guy got decked by Wendy a few days ago, if that didn’t say something. Nevertheless the boy shot out of his corner, rushing to get to the elevator before Grunkle Ford saw him, and planning to get far far away from the Shack for a while.

...

Dipper chewed on his fifth pen for the day in frustration, glaring at the makeshift web he had drawn in his journal. The boy adjusted himself so that the ridges of the birch tree he was sitting against weren’t digging into his back, and crossed out a few lines. No amount of thinking could calm down his bundled up nerves, beacause nothing about their current situation made sense. Okay, so Bill Cipher was back. Great. How? Just a few weeks ago he was a piece of rock in the middle of the woods. Now he was alive, not only that, but a human, stealing their soda and sabotaging the Mystery Shack on a daily basis. Hanging around...around...

The boy’s fist clenched the pencil a bit to hard, making the fragile wood crack under his palm. Mabel. It was pretty obvious that Bill was trying to manipulate her, to somehow get the more trusting twin on his side. Dipper had absolutely no idea what the demon had planned. But whatever it was, he would make sure Mabel wouldn’t be a part of it.

The boy turned the page of his journal, his eyes falling on his newest illustration. Seven eyes, drawn in black ink, stared right back. There was the other mystery that needed solving. Meeting Jheselbraum the Unswerving made Dipper understand even more why his great uncle was so fond of her. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly she did with just one journal entree at hand, but visiting the dimension below the mountain gave both of the twins, along with a bagpipe, a discovery of something much more interesting, interesting enough to even warrant a fall into the bottomless pit.

All the natives they had talked to turned out to not be natives at all, but refugees from other dimensions. Or, more importantly, the dimensions that Bill took over previously. And all of them had absolutely no idea where their oracle had come from, only that she was the one to take them in and care for them. The oldest one, a creature who looked like a cross between a lizard and a bird, claimed to have been there for several thousand years, and still could not give them any new info about who exactly his caretaker was, only that she had welcomed him and had been nothing but kind. As far as this old geezer can tell, he had said, she’s been there since the dawn of this place.

Well, that was all nice and good, except that Dipper still didn’t know who or what the being that saved his uncle’s life was, and how exactly she was connected to Bill. And there was definitely some kind of connection.

Dipper slammed the journal shut, getting up to stretch from the uncomfortable position he’d been in for the last hour. The twin made a glance toward the birch tree he had just been sitting against, shivering as he felt the eyes that littered the white cracked bark stare silently back at him. Of course, Bill couldn’t spy on them anymore, not when he was in this state, and yet the eye-shaped ridges still gave Dipper the creeps. The boy quickly turned away from the tree, heading deeper into the woods, away from any sign of the demon. He needed to think, and recently he found out that walking aimlessly through the shrubbery was a good way to do just that.

The younger Pines twin tripped over a couple of roots, jumped over a small stream, and chased away the hungry mosquitoes aimed for his face. Okay, so maybe nature was just as friendly as he’d remembered it, but at least there was no-

Dipper froze in his tracks, the blood freezing in his veins as he realized what clearing he’d stumbled upon.

There, across the small patch of grass, it stood there like some sort of twisted monument, just as overgrown as it’d been before. Dipper wanted to turn back, to run toward the shack as fast as possible, because no matter how ridiculous and creepy the Bill Cipher there was, this one was just plain terrifying. It didn’t matter if the statue was just a piece of rock now, something in Dipper’s instincts just screamed danger about it. Maybe it was Weirdmageddon taking a toll on him, or maybe it was some other, supernatural reason, but what the Pines twin needed to do right now was get as far away from that thing as possible, and the sooner, the better.

But there was the other, slightly more familiar part of him that wanted to come closer. Because as far as Dipper knew, that statue could explain everything. Why, and how, Bill survived, the Oracle, and maybe even why his uncle was acting so weird lately. Somehow, simply by shaking his hand, Mabel had managed to bring Bill Cipher back to life. But that made no sense, there had to be something else at work than a stupid handshake, something-

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

The unmanly, high-pitched squeak that tore out of Dipper’s throat was something he would later deny he ever let out. The nearby resting birds flew up into the air in a crying swarm as the boy jumped, spinning around to face the creature he’d not so long ago wracked his head over. “B-Bill, I, what?”

The demon grinned back at him, looking strangely cheery despite the deep, sleepless bags under his eyes. “Pine Tree, Pine Tree, Pine Tree. Finally, someone I could count on to be an obsessive nerd over just about, well, anything.” Bill strutted over to him, and the boy shivered under the piercing gaze, struggling to keep his heartbeat under control.

“B-Bill, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Coulda asked the same thing, but then again, can't really blame ya.” The demon moved away from him, and the lack of proximity helped Dipper calm down a bit, which he was pretty thankful for. Bill pat the statue fondly, before leaning on it with one arm, the ever-present grin still on his face. “So what got ya poking around my dead body?”

“Your-” Oh. Right. This was the body Bill had created for himself, wasn’t it? The one he left behind when he died. Gross.  

Bill scowled at Dipper’s silence, flicking his hat to the side. “Houston, we've got a problem, Pine Tree’s officially lost in the exosphere! What's with the blank look kid? Not gonna lie, kinda miss those times where it's a look of pure terror instead.” The demon leaned on the statue once again, his fingers tapping lightly against the stone. “So what's got those cockroaches in your head running around?”

“Why are you like this?” Dipper blurted.

Bill rolled his eyes. “Ha! If I had a negative twelve dollar bill every time somebody asked THAT I would have owed-”

“No! I mean why are you a person?” Was he a person? It was kinda hard to tell, considering that most of Bill consisted of nightmare fuel and dead baby jokes. And okay, asking outright wasn't really the best strategy, but what was the worst that could happen? Bill refusing to answer, spouting some nonsense?

Dipper missed the way Bill suddenly stiffened at the question, too busy running scenarios through his head. When the demon answered his voice was a lot less bombastic than before. “Why? Why are you?.”

Dipper blinked. “I- because I-”

“Exactly.” Wow okay.

Bill’s attention was now turned to the stone hat, which he tapped on absentmindedly. “Man, kinda miss the hat, not gonna lie.” The demon finally noticed Dipper’s stare. “What?” His hand left the statue as he folded his arms over his chest.

“You’re patting your own- you know what, nevermind. This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen.”

Bill took a moment to look offended. Then he straightened up, no longer leaning on his statue, and strolled right past Dipper, not even bothering to glance back. “HAVE FUN WITH THAT, KID. And if you’re here too break it, good luck! I’ve tried already.”

The boy turned around to Bill’s retreating back, his train of thought once again disrupted. Why would Bill want to break his own statue?

“BY THE WAY!” The demon called out once again, his voice echoing from somewhere beyond the tree line, “16 °C to 18 °C, NO HIGHER THAN 24 °C, SEE YA!”

...What.

…

“Candy! What do you think?” Mabel held up a black and white flannel shirt.

“I think you should get yellow.” the girl answered, squinting at the apparel in thought. Somehow, through his sister’s amazing talent of conviction, Mabel had not only told her friends about the demon living in the Shack, but also convinced them that going clothes shopping for Bill Cipher was somehow a good idea. Dipper needed to know what mind controlling powers his twin possessed, because there was no other explanation to how come Candy and Grenda were not running away in terror from the creature that had destroyed their home town only a few months ago.

Speaking of which, where was Bill? The boy swallowed down the brief panic at the image of some poor store owner set on fire, and frantically searched for the subject of Mabel’s fashion spree.

He found Bill leaning over the counter, harassing the poor cashier girl manning the register. “So that’s why clothes made for human females have no pockets!”

The girl, who looked a few highlights away from being crowned queen of punk rock, stared at him open mouthed. “Holy shit. And here I thought it was for some horrible design choice or something. Joke’s on them, I’m sewing my own damn pockets.”

“Atta girl! Don’t let those corporate idiots control your consumerist needs! THROW THEIR OWN DISGUSTING MASTER PLAN BACK IN THEIR FACES.”

“Yeah!” the punk rock girl suddenly took out her purse, throwing it on the ground viciously. “Screw you, Coach, for making me buy your horribly overpriced purses!”

“Uh…” Dipper wondered what the probability of Bill somehow finding someone just as insane as him in a mall full of normal people was.

“Could have done without the dramatics, to be honest.” the boy jumped at the new, yet strangely familiar voice next to him. Dipper looked up to see a young, dark haired woman somewhere in her early twenties. She was staring at the scene before them with something between amusement and annoyance, and he couldn’t help but think he’s seen her somewhere before. The woman then looked at him, and the uncomfortable amount of perception in her gaze gave Dipper involuntary shivers. It was like she knew something he didn’t, something important, and was letting herself be slightly smug about it. The boy looked at the ground, searching his memory for where he’s seen her before, because the feeling of deja vu was not leaving him alone. Dipper turned back to ask-

The woman was gone.

That...okay that was seriously creepy. Even for him, and Dipper dealt with the supernatural on a daily basis.

“DIPPPERRRR! Where’s- oh. There he is.” The boy jumped as Mabel suddenly leapt at him from behind, yelling excitedly in his ear. Dipper rubbed his forehead as the girl rushed past him, capturing Bill’s arm and dragging him to one of the changing rooms, the demon expressing only slight protest at being manhandled. That was also weird, how easily Bill got along with Mabel now. Dipper decided to dismiss it as Mabel’s magnetic personality, and worry about other things instead. Like how to prevent all of them from wreaking the store.

...

“Soo, what do you think?” Mabel asked, watching Bill stare at himself in the mirror.

“Still a horribly limiting fleshsack.” the demon responded, fidgeting with the buttons of the bright yellow cardigan he was wearing. “This needs a bowtie.” he decided, and Mabel groaned behind him.

“No it doesn’t! Stop ruining my masterpieces with your awful fashion sense!” Bill had the nerve to look offended.

“It looks good.” Candy said thoughtfully from Mabel’s side, hand on her chin.

“TRIANGLE MAN IS FIXED NOW.” Genda whooped, patting his sister on the back.

“I was never-” Bill’s rant was cut off as the three girls shoved more clothing in his hands, pushing him toward the dressing room.

Dipper had to admit, he wasn’t feeling very sorry for tagging along after all. Watching Bill Cipher get manhandled by a bunch of teenage girls was hands down a highlight of the summer. A few customers gave them odd looks, and as Dipper spotted a few familiar faces, suddenly his mind was on something else completely. His paranoid, overly nervous brain took care to remind him of the one giant problem that was now arguing with his sister over ties.

While the Mystery Shack took the demon’s return relatively unscathed (scathed, but relatively un), the town would not be as okay about it. Or at all, to be honest. If any of the townsfolk found out Bill Cipher was not only back, but camping out in the Shack, it wouldn’t matter if Stan was the town hero or not. They would come running with torches and pitchforks, ready to get rid of that yellow menace for good.

And judging by how easily Mabel and her friends managed to subdue him, the demon wouldn’t even stand a chance.

Bill and Mabel were looking like they were about to tear apart the whole accessories section. Candy and Grenda weren’t much help, observing the argument at a safe distance, eating the stash of chocolate his sister had given them as a reunion gift. They weren’t the only spectators. Seems like security finally noticed the disturbance in their store. “Oh man,” He needed to get over there and prevent any further disaster from happening. And quick.

Dipper narrowly missed running into a coat rack, and ran as fast as he could to the source of the chaos: his sister, and the murderous entity they had somehow brought back from the dead.

“We’re not buying a bowtie for you, Bill!”

“You’re limiting my freedom of self expression. How’d ya like it if I burned all your sweaters, huh?”

“First off, leave my sweaters out of this! At least they’ve got a whole lot more pizzaz in them then you ever will!”

Bill’s eyes flashed dangerously, and Dipper would have been a heck of a lot more frightened by that if what he was angry about hadn’t been that ridiculous. “Shooting Star, do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“Someone with like no taste.”

There was a quiet -ooooh- from Grenda, and Dipper had a feeling that if he didn’t defuse the situation fast enough, the whole mall would probably go up in flames. “JUST LET HIM KEEP THE STUPID TIE AND LET’S GO.”

…

He collapsed onto the bench in exhaustion, watching as the group made their way to the food court, and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion creeping into his limbs. Dipper hadn’t even realized how little sleep he actually got, at least not until the caffeine he had consumed during breakfast had run out of his system. The sleepless nights were all Bill’s fault anyway. That stupid riddle, if it could be called that at all, would just not leave him alone. What turned out to be Dipper’s best effort to ignore something that seemed like just a jumble of nonsense had quickly turned into a burning curiosity because what if it somehow made sense. Probably not, because expecting Bill to give straight answers was like expecting a penguin to learn to fly. Yet there he was, trying to figure out a puzzle which probably had no answer in the first place.

“Mind if I join you?” Dipper jolted in his seat, earlier frustration momentarily forgotten. The woman he saw a few hours earlier, the one that mysteriously vanished, was now looming over him, something between amusement and awareness in her gaze. The boy spent a few more seconds picking his jaw up from the floor, swallowing thickly. “S-sure! I mean, I don’t mind? I mean-”

The woman laughed lightly, nothing mean spirited about it at all. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She sat down, and Dipper shifted in his seat awkwardly, trying his best to avoid her gaze. “So, uh, what’s up?”

The lady smiled. She seemed to smile more with her eyes than her mouth, something the Pines twin found strikingly familiar. “Nothing much,” she glanced to the side, “Just came to visit an old friend, that’s all.” Her eyes were focused on something that completely escaped his vision, and Dipper was getting that itch, the tingly feeling in the back of his head that told him that he was dealing with something supernatural. The woman looked convincingly human, but the more he observed, the more he started to realize that something about her appearance was off. It was like watching someone put on a fancy suit, yet completely ignore all manners. Like the time Mabel tried to dress up as a mermaid for halloween, but the elastic fishtail she had shoved over her legs did nothing to disguise the fact that those were still legs under it.

It was like the stranger next to him was dressing up as a human, but didn’t necessarily know how to act like one.

“Friend huh?” The boy’s voice came out a bit too high. “Not from around here then?” Please tell me she’s an alien and I’m not just crazy.

“You’re not just crazy, Dipper.”

“Oh thanks I- what?” The boy scrambled back onto the edge of the bench, pressing himself against the potted plant next to it, the wide, bright green leaves blocking the edge of his vision. “How did you, are you a-?!”

“-Mind reader? No.” Then she winked, and Dipper had definitely seen that gesture before, not done with two eyes, but…seven.

“Jheselbraum?”

The woman winced slightly. “That’s actually not how you- nevermind.”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, you, why are you- how are you-?”

“Why I am here is because your uncle requested I come. I believe he requires my help on something urgent, and I’m more than happy to comply.” She smiled, her gaze so calm that Dipper found himself relaxing a bit more. “As for my appearance, I doubt humanity would be thrilled in seeing an alien species walking down the street. Especially after what happened in this town last year.” Her tone darkened slightly. “So I asked for a small favor.”

“A favor.” he echoed, “So you’re not a shapeshifter?”

“Oh, of course not.” the woman sounded a bit indignant. “I’m an oracle.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dipper frowned, looking away. The thrill of meeting the extra dimensional being again was slowly fading, and the boy found the situation getting more awkward than anything else. “Wait, why would Grunkle Ford-?”

“Well, well, look who the frilly salamander dragged in.”

Bill’s voice cut through the crowd, as unpleasant and unwelcome as it usually was. Dipper watched as Jheselbraum’s expression instantly turned stone cold.

The two beings just stared each other for several seconds. The Oracle’s air was still unreadable, but harsh. Bill, for his part, still had that sarcastic smile pasted on his face. Dipper felt the tension in their little corner flare up, something unspoken once again rearing its ugly neck between these two. The twin was ready to excuse himself, and run as fast as he could toward his sister, where at least he wouldn’t feel like he was sitting on a ticking time bomb.

“So what happened, Seven-Eyes? I thought you were pretty clear on the whole ‘never wanna see your face again’ thing.”

“I never said that. Or anything like that, really.”

Bill looked away. “Nice makeover, by the way. What, did the giant pink know-it-all decide to curse you too?”

“I forgot how unpleasant your voice is.”

Bill stiffened, looking ready to fire back another retort. Just then, thankfully, Dipper’s sister chose to demonstrate her impeccable timing. “Hey guys! Why the heck are you all over- oh.” Mabel froze, standing dead still between Dipper and the two interdimensional beings that were busy having one of the most intense staring contests both twins had ever seen. Nora was the first to break it, turning to the newcomer with a sudden pleasant smile on her face. “Mabel, it’s nice to see you again.”

Dipper could visibly see the gears in the girl’s head turning. “Wait, hold on…” His sister squinted at the Oracle suspiciously, before something clicked, and her face split into a giant excited grin. “It’s about time you showed up! Grunkle Ford’s been getting reeeally paranoid, you know. ‘Cause of this jerk over here.” She pointed her thumb at Bill, who by some miracle remained silent throughout the exchange.

Jheselbraum raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been expecting me?”

“You promised to visit.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Wait,” Bill interjected loudly, “Why the heck are you-”

Nora cut him off. “I believe your friends are waiting for you two.”

Mabel and Dipper whirled around, spotting Candy and Grenda, who slowly made their way towards them, pushing aside shoppers and stepping on heeled toes. The two girls came to a stop in front of Mabel, both breathing heavily.

“Where did you go?” Candy asked, straightening her glasses. “We were looking all over for you and-”

“Oh my gosh guys you have to meet someone. This is-” Mabel turned around, gesturing at- empty space. Dipper blinked.

The Oracle was gone again.

“Alright, have to give credit for that disappearing act.” Bill muttered under his breath.

[journeyinthetardis]

Synopsis: While traveling in the far future, a robot suddenly manifests itself inside of the TARDIS. This turns out to be the equivalent of junk mail, as it advertises the "Psychic Circus" on nearby Segonax. The Doctor decided it would be fun to go, but Ace is hesitant. She is frightened of clowns.

They land on Segonax, finding it a mostly barren desert planet with a single road. They pass by a woman running a fruit stand, but she warns them about going to the circus. The Doctor ignores her and presses onwards. Along the road, they encounter others who are traveling to the circus, including a rough biker named Nord, and an interplanetary explorer named Captain Cook, along with his female associate Mags.

The two travel with the Captain and Mags along the road. They encounter a deactivated robot that comes to life and attacks them, then find an old abandoned bus with another robot inside that attacks them. In both cases, Cook sat back and let the others deal with the threat, so the Doctor and Ace decide to go on without him.

When the two finally reach the gigantic circus tent, it's mostly deserted. They are greeted by a ticket-seller and taken to their seats by a clown. The only other occupants in the circus are a very stoic mother and father with their young daughter. The ringleader comes out, and announces the 'talent show'. He points to the Doctor and Ace, announcing that it's their chance to show off their skills. The Doctor seems delighted, but Ace is creeped out by the clowns escorting her and runs away.

The Doctor is taken backstage, only to find himself locked in a cage. Captain Cook, Mags and Nord are there as well, having gone through the exact same set of circumstances. Cook calmly explains to him that their very lives are at stake, as if they do not entertain, they will be killed on the spot. Cook is cunning, though, and tricks Nord into taking his place in line.

When they overhear Nord being killed, the Doctor and Mags decide to team up and escape. Cook, still so calm, decides to stay behind. Ace, meanwhile, has been caught by the leader of the clowns. He wants to know where she found the strange earring, which she had picked up in the desert. When she doesn't answer, he locks her in a room full of creepy clown robots.

The Doctor and Mags find tunnels beneath the circus, where they come across a vast pit with an ominous eye staring back up at them from within. They are then surprised by the appearance of Cook behind them, who has led the clowns directly to them so they may be recaptured. It's their turn in the talent show, after all.

Ace overcomes her fears and disables the robot clowns. Then, she finds that a young man named Bellboy is also in the room. He is the creator of the robots, and he comments sadly that the circus used to be wonderful until they arrived on Segonax, where things somehow became twisted. He helps her escape.

The Doctor, but not Mags, escapes from Cook and meets up with an insane young man named Deadbeat. When he and Deadbeat later meet up with Bellboy and Ace, Bellboy briefly recognizes that Deadbeat used to be the leader of the circus, Kingpin. Both men, however, have their minds fractured and are acting with not much sanity.

Kingpin takes them back to the pit with the eye,  where he reveals that it's controlled using a pendant that he has. However, the pendant is broken and is missing a piece, and a friend of his was killed trying to get the last piece. That is where the earring that Ace found came from. The Doctor sends Ace and Kingpin off to find it, while he returns to the circus ring to act as a distraction.

The Doctor once again meets up with Cook and Mags in the cage, and suggests that they might have a better chance at surviving if they all go out at once. They both agree, but then Cook turns on them once the show begins. He has the stagehands turn on a spotlight that is shaped and coloured like the moon. This has a frightening effect on Mags. It turns out that she is a lycanthrope, and transforms into what can only be disguised as a 'werewolf'.

Cook's plan doesn't quite work out, however, as Mags then turns around and attacks him instead. He falls to the ground dead as the spotlight goes dark. Mags returns to normal and runs off with the Doctor. He quickly briefs her on his plan, sends her off to find Ace, and then makes his way back to the circus tent. Mags eventually runs into them, though she is being chased by the clowns. The good news is that they found the missing piece of the medallion, and Kingpin has regained his sanity and memories.

The Doctor, meanwhile, enters through a hidden passageway, and travels to another ring in the same location, but a different spacetime. There, he confronts the real identities of the stoic family, the three Gods of Ragnarok. It is they who have taken control of the circus and are using its performances for their own entertainment. Now, with no way to escape, all the Doctor can do is try his best to entertain them.

However, he is secretly buying time. He is banking on the hope that one of his friends on the other side will toss the medallion into the pit with the eye. Ace, Mags and Kingpin encounter opposition, not only from the clowns, but from Cook as well, whom the Gods reanimated from the dead to attack them. Luckily though, they are able to get the medallion into the pit, where it goes through to the Doctor's side. He uses it to deflect the deadly beams from the Gods. The Gods fall over dead and the entire structure begins to crumble.

The Doctor calmly makes his way out as the dimension destabilizes, meeting up with Ace, Mags and Kingpin once more. Though they are the only four left alive, they are glad that the menace from the circus is gone at last. Mags decides to stay behind with Kingpin and rebuild the circus into the fun, entertaining thing it once was, while the Doctor and Ace bid them farewell.

Thoughts: Tis the end of Season 25, though this one was a touch confusing. It was better than The Happiness Patrol, but still a little tough to follow.

The setting was fantastic. It's hard to go wrong with a creepy circus and creepy clowns. The actor playing the lead clown was phenomenal, and he was our favourite performance from the serial. Mags was a fun character and she had a fantastic design, especially her hair. It was also nice to see a bit of Ace's vulnerable side, with her phobia of clowns.

That said, it was definitely confusing. Scenes cut away a bit too fast and jumped from location to location, making it hard to figure out what was going on. The backstory of the circus was difficult to piece together at times, and there was a bit of poor sound mixing in this particular serial as some actors' voices simply couldn't be heard.

A so-so serial, all in all. We're approaching the end, my friends...

[scarletwix]

y'know that parallel universe thing you did and i adored? could you do something with the kids meeting the nightcrawler from XM2??

Fair warning this is 14 pages long at my last count. I hope you like it, despite the wait!!

Sanctuary

Read on AO3

Kurt was teleporting faster than he ever had before. His feet would barely touch the ground before he was off again, his mind spiriting him away to the next place, and the next.

Yet, still the sentinels gained. He could feel the air at his back distort with the force of their movement, with the closeness of their grasp as mechanical fingers closed around empty air when Kurt teleported again.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to escape. It was okay, of course, he might have been the fastest messenger that the resistance had, but he was not, by a long shot, the only capable messenger in the field. He was not even the only one carrying this message back to the base, where his mother and the professor waited to break the code that the Anti-Mutant coalition was currently using. (His mother may have long since lost her abilities to shape shift, but that did not make her blind to injustice, or to the predicament her brethren faced.)

He continued to teleport, exhaustion bearing down upon him like a physical weight. It was true that his demise would not call for the end of the resistance, nor would it do more than impact the few people that he had left. They would grieve, but they had not stopped grieving since the first attacks. Kurt had not been himself since the sentinels took the twins from them, and now, as he teleported as fast as his limited ability would allow, he felt that it was a cruel irony almost that meant that the sentinel squadron that had taken Pietro from him would be the ones to take him down as well. After all, they were the only ones that would be fast enough to keep up with him.

And keeping up they were. Every time Kurt's feet touched the barren and scorched earth, he was convinced that it would be the last time. He wondered abstractly if he would see Pietro again when the sentinels got to him. The thought comforted him. He had missed so much about Pietro, from the glint of his hair as he ran to keep up with Kurt, to the gentle way his fingers would curl around the back of Kurt's neck absentmindedly. He missed it all. He'd loved it all, and it had been torn from him too soon. They were meant to die together or live to see the day the sentinels were defeated.

And now Kurt was alone and waiting to die at the same hands of those that had torn the love from his heart, even as they tore Pietro apart.

He teleported again, trying his best to keep going, even though all he wanted was for this to end. All he wanted was to see Pietro again. He teleported-

And something went wrong.

The world tilted as it always did, but when he resurfaced from his splintering pocket dimension, the sentinels were gone. He was alone.

Or, not really alone. He heard voices, a slight distance off.

And the ground beneath him had grass.

Grass.

There were trees to either side of him.

It was... Beautiful.

The charred barren wasteland that the sentinels left in their wake had left him empty. He'd forgotten what the color green looked like, and it was overwhelming his senses now. Part of him wondered, absentmindedly if he'd somehow teleported into one of the human sanctuaries.

Even by teleporting in, he would have set off motion sensors and blaring alarms immediately. Here, there was nothing. This area didn't even appear to have a guard tower or an electric fence surrounding the perimeter. Surely this couldn't be one of the oases, either? Those were just myths to give the mutant children hope and keep the human populace scared. A place where humans and mutants coexisted? The idea that the humans had been in the wrong while committing their mass genocide? That was a terrifying idea for everyone.

He was still attempting to discern the nature of where he had landed, when a martyr landed in front of him.

Warren Worthington III was known across the globe, but the stories people told about him didn't do the man justice. His wings were spread wide as he glided to the ground, their span bathing Kurt in shadow. And now, kneeling before him, his entire body humming with the force of his exhaustion, Kurt understood why they called him the "Angel." Posthumously, it was the only name he was known by, as the entire world knew that his father had championed the Cure, even going so far as to test it continuously on his mutant employees. No one with any respect for Angel called him by the name that man had given him.

This was the man who had looked a Cure in the eye and jumped to freedom- spreading his wings, presumably, for the first time.

Warren had gone back, allegedly, to destroy the Cure that had later been proven both temporary and fatal. No one else was ever "cured" and the humans quickly put the sentinel program into effect, declaring their genocide of the mutant populace publicly, this time, rather than disguising it as a cure, but after that night, Warren was never heard from again.

"What are you-" Angel's eyes widened at the sight of Kurt, lingering on the brand over his eye, the harsh burn that was in such stark contrast to his curling Enochian marks, "Kurt?"

Kurt wondered how Angel knew his name, but the exhaustion was beginning to seep into his vision, now spots were disrupting the idyllic image before him. Perhaps he was dead? This could certainly pass as heaven, he thought.

"Am I...?" he wondered aloud, "Did they catch me? Am I dead?" Angel's face went slack with shock and a vague horror.

"Holy shit." Angel muttered, instinctively reaching out a hand to Kurt. "Are you okay? Can you stand?" Kurt nodded and moved to his feet, but he stumbled, the full weight of his exhaustion hitting him suddenly and melting down to his core. His vision blurred and Kurt realized that he couldn't be dead. Despite Angel's appearance, there was no way he would still be experiencing the fatigue from his messenger run if he were truly dead.

Angel looped an arm beneath his shoulders, hoisting him to his aching feet, and Kurt leaned against him, grateful for the support.

Kurt knew that he had to be slipping in and out of consciousness, because most of the walk was fragmented in his memory, shots of the grass, the gazes of worried mutants, only a few of whom would meet his eyes, a large oak door that haunted his dreams. And things solidified for a moment, only a moment, when a pair of wide, dark eyes met his. The ring that hung around his neck burned against his skin. He knew that it was in his head, that something was wrong, that this must be the final gift that his mind was giving him. And still, his knees buckled, dull pain lancing through him as he hit the floor, his eyes never once leaving the other man's, even as darkness raced in to cloud his vision, his mind finally incapable of keeping up.

"Pietro?" His voice was small, but it echoed in his ears as the darkness finally wiped out the image of his dead husband.

Kurt dreamed, as he always did, of the twins. He dreamed of volunteering to go as their third, instead of letting them leave as a pair. He dreamed that he hadn't trusted their abilities to fight as much as he had and insisted that they bring someone along for backup. He dreamed of fixing it, of the moment Pietro died and Wanda was sent into a grief so strong she pulled the entire city down with her. He dreamed, as he always would, of dying with them.

Not once had he ever really given any thought to what life would have been like if the twins had survived. Too much would be different. Too much of it would just be painful to imagine. He just thought about what he should have done.

He regained his consciousness slowly, voices filtering in through his ears before he even registered the fact that he was lying in a bed far more comfortable than anything he'd been in recently, or even the past fifteen years.

"What do you mean 'your real name'?" He heard a harsh whisper sound from somewhere to his left.

"I meant my birth name! Obviously 'Peter' is a real name, and since I've been using it for over twenty years, I'd definitely say it's my name, but it's... anglicized? I think that's the right term." Came the answering hiss. It was a voice that Kurt would know in death, years younger, full of frustration but undeniably alive. It made something deep inside of him ache. He wanted that voice to be closer, he wanted that voice to be his.

"Why would you go by a name that isn't really yours?" the first voice asked, and if Kurt wasn't wrong, it sounded as though the owner really cared about the answer.

"Listen, I go by "Peter," my baby sister was never taught Sinti, and we don't brag about being different. The town I grew up in wasn't exactly a bastion of acceptance!" Something inside of Kurt knew that the voice wasn't his, and that it never would be.

"He's crying." came Pietro's voice again, and it was so close, so incredibly similar, that if he wanted to, he could let himself be fooled. "Should we wake him up?"

"No need. He's already awake."

Kurt figured that there was no point in denying the truth. He cracked his eyes open and turned straight to the Pietro that wasn't Pietro.

There were clear differences, Kurt could see that now. This Pietro's hair was longer, though it still had the silver sheen that Kurt knew so well. He was definitely younger, lacking the lines around his eyes or the visible scars that his Pietro wore like medals. But perhaps the most striking difference of all was that this Pietro looked like he still remembered how to smile.

He was seated in a chair next to the bed Kurt was lying in and leaning forward, toward Kurt with his elbows resting lightly on the knees of his ripped jeans. He looked like he had a question on the tip of his tongue and was holding it back by its ears.

That Kurt recognized.

Next to Pietro, unquestionably, was his father.

That had Kurt confused. Why wouldn't Erik already know Pietro's birth name? And where was Wanda?

The distinction was clear. His Pietro had grown up in a world on the edge of a war, this one hadn't.

Kurt tried to smile. He wasn't sure how it turned out, but Pietro didn't flinch or run away, so Kurt counted it as a good sign.

"Ask." was all that Kurt said. It was all that he had the energy to say. He tried to make it sound encouraging, but he was almost certain that he fell short of the mark.

"How long have I been dead?" Erik turned toward his son sharply, clearly expecting that question as much as Kurt had been.

"Almost three years, the last time I checked." He replied, keeping his voice low to keep it even.

"And Wanda?" Kurt hesitated.

"She... ensured that no one made it out."

"She went berserker?" Pietro snorted. "I keep trying to tell her that her emotions are going to be what get her killed." Kurt blinked, surprised again, but Pietro barreled on. "What about the twins?"

"The twins?" As far as Kurt was aware, Pietro and Wanda were the only twins that he knew. Pietro must have seen the blank confusion on his face because he hesitated before elaborating.

"Billy and Tommy? My nephews?"

"You don't have nephews, Pietro." Pietro stayed frozen for half of a second that must have been an eternity for him until, in a streak of silver, Pietro shot to his feet, immediately pacing and muttering fast enough that Kurt was almost comforted by the humming noise his words made. This was something that his Pietro had done often, to think through a problem at hand, or strategize the best way out of a situation. Absently, Kurt began to fiddle with the chain around his neck, closing his eyes and letting the familiarity soothe his rattled nerves.

"-Was there to stop her from running away, so in that universe she decided against keeping them, and she never had the twins," Pietro concluded, slowing down, much to the relief of his father, who had been clearly startled even as Kurt was soothed by the motions. "which means that I never...." Pietro trailed off, his eyes wide, staring down at Erik. "I never went after you, because the Professor never came to me." He turned his blazing eyes on Kurt, who leaned forward, searching for differences again. They were much harder to find, with Pietro like this. "You're from the future with the sentinels." Pietro flicked his gaze toward Erik, who was narrowing his eyes at his son. "Which I know nothing about because I absolutely didn't eavesdrop on Hank and Logan and absolutely didn't ask Logan anything about it."

Silence reigned again, and Pietro didn't try to break it. Instead, after a moment, Erik spoke.

"I'll.... go get Charles."

"Yeah, go get Charles." Pietro parroted absently.

"Peter?" Erik asked. Pietro wasn't looking away from Kurt, and Kurt wasn't about to stop looking at Pietro, whether it was his Pietro or not. His eyes had left Kurt's, though, and had drifted down to his neck. Kurt followed his gaze to the ring he refused to get rid of.

"I have one more question I need to ask." Pietro turned to look at his father. "Don't worry, I won't do anything reckless."

Erik seemed to find this answer satisfactory, as he turned and walked out. He didn't give the awkward silence any time to fester or grow, jumping into his question the moment the door clicked shut.

"So." Pietro began, "How long were we married before I went and screwed things up by dying?" There was no point in lying, Kurt decided.

"Five years, but I'm rounding up. It took a lot of convincing for you to get through to me."

"I wasn't like, creepy obsessive about being in love with you, was I?" Kurt laughed, the words were almost exactly the ones his own Pietro had asked when Kurt had agreed to date him.

"You were fine, I just had a lot of reservations about..." Kurt hesitated. He'd grown up inside of a church, thinking that two distinct parts of himself were inherently sinful: being a mutant, and being gay. The Enochian marks could only do so much to alleviate those feelings. "Dating in general. Years of basically being a monk made the transition difficult for me."

Pietro slumped down into a chair.

"Well, that's a relief. I've been known to fixate." He picked at a loose thread on his jeans with a frown. "It figures though, that there's actually a future where you and I are together, and I had an active hand in preventing it."

Kurt blinked, nonplussed.

"You mean we're not...?"

"You barely know who I am, dude. But it's cool, I mean clearly it doesn't end well, and you deserve better than that. " His tone suggested a second meaning to the sentence that Kurt was all too quick to comprehend.

"Better than you." Kurt finished, half livid at the very suggestion. Pietro ran his tongue over his lower lip, clearly trying to figure out how to deny it without outright lying.

"Yeah," he conceded at last, and before Kurt could respond, or tell Pietro off for being so massively ridiculous, the door opened and Professor Xavier wheeled in, Erik hot on his heels.

Once again, the Professor was unmistakable, but ages younger than Kurt had ever had the pleasure of knowing him. Without the context that Pietro and the mansion provided, Kurt would have had no reason to recognize the Professor, no matter how obvious it seemed with what he knew.

"Incredible," the Professor breathed, and Kurt knew that he wasn't going to get another moment alone with Pietro for a while.

The next several hours involved the Professor picking his brain, both literally as well as figuratively. By the time he'd gotten through as many questions as he could think of, and Pietro had called for a break twice so that Kurt didn't find himself in the awkward position of beheading a telepath he looked up to in front of an alternate version of the man he loved, Kurt was exhausted once more. Pietro, Erik, and the Professor left him alone with the swirling thoughts in his thoroughly picked brain, and all he could think of was that this was the universe that he wasn't in love with Pietro.

Of all of the universes he could have landed in, this was, by far, the bleakest.

But when the familiar sound that Kurt knew accompanied his teleportation (something that he was nowhere near able to manage in his current exhausted state) sounded in the corner of the room, he was neither shocked nor surprised.

He'd be curious too if he heard that there was another version of himself locked in the room down the hall. And if the similarities between his Pietro and this one were anything to go by, then he wouldn't have been able to hide anything from someone he loved.

Kurt kept waiting for this other version to make a move, to say something, to demand answers, but nothing came. He seemed content to simply sit there and watch Kurt breathe.

"I hope you don't think I have no idea you're there." He stage whispered, amused. There was a startled movement from the corner the familiar noise had emanated from.

"Ah, no?" The other version of himself squeaked, stepping forward to where Kurt could see him.

Kurt had expected it, the sight of himself, blue and covered in Enochian marks, but it was one thing to expect it, and another entirely to see it. For starters he expected something closer to what he saw in the mirror, and that had not involved….

The Kurt he'd expected had been like him, world worn and older than his days or his face revealed. The Kurt that stood before him looked young, scared, and too small to have the volume of visible marks on his face. It very nearly broke his heart.

Kurt pushed himself upright, very obviously clearing a space for his younger counterpart, who gingerly climbed into the space provided.

"So you're… me?"

"Pietro seems to think that I'm a version of you that is from a future that doesn't exist."

"What did you say to him?" The other Kurt asked, sounding even smaller than he looked. "Peter was in here for hours and now he won't even look at me." That must have seemed very strange to this Kurt, who had been getting besotted gazes from Pietro, or Peter, as he seemed to want to be called in this timeline, likely since they had met. Of course, now Peter was operating under the impression that he had stopped the course of events that got himself and Kurt together, and that would hurt him enough that looking at his Kurt would be nearly unbearable.

"I told him about the world that I came from. The one that he helped to erase." Kurt slumped forward, trying his best not to visibly pout. Something about the expression rang as familiar with Kurt. He kept talking, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Peter was slightly unreliable in his ideas of how this Kurt felt about him. "He said you barely knew him in this world." Kurt said nonchalantly. "Why would you mind if he didn't look at you?" Kurt shifted, his face falling again.

"I thought that maybe... he at least considered me his friend."

"I know he does. There are just parts of my past that he wasn't expecting to discuss. He just needs time to think."

"In your future, were you and Peter friends?" Kurt considered, for a moment, concealing the truth, but the idea that Peter had, that there were versions of themselves that weren't meant to be together….

He didn't like it. He didn't agree, because there couldn’t be a version of this timeline where Kurt wasn't in love with Pietro. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stop before he told this version of Kurt that they were meant to be together forever. If Peter felt that he'd given up his feelings to this Kurt, he'd never forgive Kurt.

"Yes, we were. We were very good friends."

"Oh." He seemed almost disappointed by Kurt's answer.

"Would you have rather I said we were enemies?" Kurt asked, raising one eyebrow slightly, already half certain he knew what this other version of himself was going to say.

Sure enough, the other Kurt's eyes bugged, his spine going ramrod straight.

"No, no of course not! I'm glad to hear it, it's just-"

"You want to have hope that he returns your feelings, don't you?" Kurt asked quietly, knowing, beyond any reasonable doubt that he was right. There might have been a universe out there where the two of them didn't belong together, but Kurt wasn't about to let this one be it. Panic stole over the face of his younger counterpart, and before Kurt could get out any words of comfort, he was gone, as though he'd never been there in the first place. Kurt scowled at the empty air in front of him, before coming to the conclusion that clearly they wouldn't get together without a fight.

Well, he thought, it was a damn good thing that he'd trained with the best fighters in the mutant resistance camps.

"I teleported into a live war zone with a nuclear bomb strapped to my back." he grumbled into the darkness. "This should be easy."

It was not easy. Getting out of the room was one thing, he'd spent enough time in the mansion before the sentinels took over to know the layout, but once he was out, he had to avoid everyone.

Beast had questions. The Professor had questions. Magneto had... a seemingly endless supply of glares.

Kurt didn't want to know what that was about. At least this version of Erik wasn't afraid to look him in the eye.

The only people he didn't seem to see were the ones he was looking for.

The third time he escaped his room, he made it as far as the end of the hallway before he ran into someone.

"Are you trying to escape?" Kurt looked down at the girl who had spoken. She was seated just below an open window, her legs curled beneath her on top of a bright yellow jacket. Her hair was pulled into pigtails, and she was smiling at Kurt like she didn't have a care in the world.

"Um-"

"'Cause if you are, I'm going to have to call for the Professor." Kurt blanched.

"No, no I'm definitely not escaping. I just needed out of that room." The girl was not a telepath, and as such she had no reason to believe he wasn't telling the truth. She beamed, an expression dazzling enough that it was like concentrated light. If Kurt looked at her too long, he was afraid he might get a headache.

"Good!" She chirped as she maneuvered herself so that she was still in the strongest patch of sunlight, but now there was a space next to her where Kurt could sit. He did so, curling up small enough that she had more room if she wanted it. He had barely hit the floor when she was off again. "Now, I know you're probably sick of questions, but can I ask you one teeny tiny question?" Kurt resisted the urge to tell her that she just had. He nodded instead, not wishing to alienate any of the friends his other self had made. "Why did Peter say you 'were a Maximoff' when he was vouching for you, and are you going to be getting in the way of my eight step plan to get Peter and the elf together?"

"Uh," Kurt said again, "Who?"

"Well, I can't call him Kurt around you, because you're Kurt too, and that would be confusing, and you've both got the elf ears, but he thought it was funny the first time I called him an elf, so I'm going to call him that." Kurt brushed off his lingering confusion.

"Eight step plan?" He asked instead.

"The elf and Peter have feelings for each other. They aren't going to do anything about said feelings, so I am going to force them to acknowledge that they feel the same way about each other. Your turn."

"I don't know why Peter would call me a Maximoff-" Kurt began, but another voice cut him off.

"Liar." The voice was delicately accented and the bright pigtailed girl beamed when she saw the speaker.

"Ororo!" Kurt turned and froze.

He couldn't help it, he was suddenly overcome, for the first time since he'd arrived, with a feeling akin to homesickness.

He hadn't seen Storm since her mission in Wakanda had separated the resistance into divisions. She'd gone with Logan, the Professor, and Magneto (who hadn't even been able to look at Kurt after the funeral, never mind that he'd been thrown into the same situation Erik had. They'd both lost the twins, but the difference was that they both blamed Erik). Kurt had joined his mother, Illyana, and Kevin to try and discover the plans of the Anti-Mutant groups and to find a way to disable the Sentinel Program permanently.

He would never see Storm again.

His future was dead, doomed, and for all he knew, she hadn't made it much further than he had. He tried to stop looking shell-shocked as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the other girl's cheek.

"Hello, my little lightning bug." She turned back to Kurt, a wary look melting into a sympathetic smile as she took in the look on his own face. "I take it you know who I am?" Kurt's lips twitched.

"In my world, you and Jean Grey stopped me from assassinating the President. I'd hope I knew who you were." She stared at him, as if trying to separate the truth from the joke, and seemed to give up after a moment, settling into the space he'd left, curling the other girl into her arms. At least, it seemed, in this world she wasn't going to let herself waste away pining for a man who didn't deserve her.

"I'm sure we had a good reason."

"You did." He assured her. "The two of you saved me. I just wish I'd had a chance to return the favor." The girls looked at each other, worried. Ororo turned back to Kurt slowly.

"I... died in that other universe?"

"No, Jean did. And she took about half of San Francisco with her. Unless you believe the Professor."

"What does he say?"

"He says that Jean Grey died at Alkalai Lake, and the girl who came back was the physical embodiment of Jean's Phoenix energy. The side of her powers that she couldn't control." Kurt hesitated before continuing. "I like his version better. I didn't know Jean long, but I know that she wouldn't kill Scott. Or, I'd like to believe that."

"Right. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't, she loves him!" The bright girl stated, bolstering herself. Kurt stopped himself before he could say that sometimes love was the only motive behind a murder. Storm looked at the girl and then back to Kurt, steeling herself.

"Now, you were lying to Jubilee about Peter when I walked up. Please tell her the truth." The girl, Jubilee, leaned forward, an expectant look on her face and Kurt sighed, reaching up and tugging the necklace his wedding ring was attached to out from where it had been hidden beneath his shirt.

"In my universe, we were married. Peter likely views me as part of the family because of it." Ororo's eyes went wide, and yet another grin spread across Jubilee's face. "You mentioned an eight step plan? If I promise I won't get in the way, will you let me help?"

"You solemnly swear that you don't want to steal Peter for yourself?"

"My Pietro is long buried. I no more want to steal this one away from my other self than I'd want to face my father in law."

"Solid." Jubilee said. "I'll take it."

Jubilee's plan was either genius or the work of some kind of god.

Still, Kurt was able to help her revise it significantly, so that it went from an eight step plan to a two step plan.

Jubilee admitted that it was very heavily influenced by the play "Much Ado About Nothing." All they had to do was get one or the other, or, preferably, both of them to confess their feelings for each other within earshot. Eight steps had been rendered unnecessary when Kurt had appeared, because at least four of the original steps involved getting a telepath on their side.

All Kurt had to do now was find his younger counterpart and make him angry enough to talk about Pietro.

This fell to him because of all people, Kurt knew which buttons to press to get himself riled up and angry to the point of yelling his feelings to the heavens.

There was only one problem.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't sit there and make this younger, better version of him get angry and confess in a fit of rage. There would be too much loathing in the words for the little one to believe that there was any hope.

And the half terrified glare that he received when his younger self opened the door was more than enough encouragement for Kurt to abandon the plan. Instead he reached out and wrapped him in a hug tight enough that Illyana would have been uncomfortable, and was greatly relieved when it only took a few moments for the little elf to hug him back. When he felt comfortable enough to speak, he did so quietly, hoping that Kurt could hear the honesty in his words.

"It took me five years to come to terms with how I felt about Pietro. Your world might not be in the middle of the biggest war Mutants have ever seen, but I don't want you to have to be missing those five years when you think back on how long you’ve been together. If I'd been willing to believe that those feelings were real, that they were as pure as any love could be from the very beginning... I'm not sure what would be different, but I know I would be happier with the time we did get."

"It just-" He trailed off, but Kurt knew what he was trying to say.

"Everything we were taught was wrong. I know it's hard to believe right now, but the people who care about you? They aren't the ones who are going to be telling you that your salvation is at the wrong end of a knife."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because the last person to tell me that they thought I was a demon and the world needed to be cleansed of people like me, branded this into my face," he ran a finger over the grotesque "M" that the Anti-Mutant group he'd been captured by had branded on all of them, "and then they said the exact same thing to the four-year-old boy next to me." The other Kurt flinched and Kurt could tell that he'd gotten through to him.

"What if you're wrong?"

"Then God is a lot crueler than he has any right to be." The little one winced again, and Kurt knew that it was because it hurt to hear those words, in such a stark violation of what he'd grown up believing, and coming from himself, it must have been harder to hear. Hopefully, however, hearing it from himself would make it easier to believe. "And Pietro? What do you feel when you think of him?"

Kurt watched as the boy beside him fought down a smile.

"I feel a lot of things. But mostly I feel happy. He makes me happy." Well, Kurt thought, it was a start. "I think, what you said the other day was right."

"Oh?" Kurt asked, wishing he were a telepath so that he would know for certain that Jubilee had Pietro in position.

"I did want to have some sort of hope that he returned my feelings, but..." Kurt hesitated. "But you are a completely different person than I am, and the version of Peter that you had must have been a different person, too, so it wouldn't have mattered if you two were together in your universe, because it wouldn't mean anything. If my Peter loves me the way that I love him, then it's because it's how he feels, not because some other version of us claimed that we were meant to be together." Kurt found that he was pleasantly surprised by this answer, and he knew that this version of himself would become everything he'd never gotten the chance to be.

“Maybe you should tell him that.” He replied with a smile, and the other Kurt narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious.

“Why? What do you know?”

“It was just a suggestion.” Kurt replied, doing his best to placate the young man before him.

“I don't know...” He murmured, still clearly suspicious.

“Just think about it.” Kurt stepped away, toward the door and had it halfway open before the other Kurt spoke again.

“Thank you.”

“I'd say ‘anytime’ but I'd prefer we have different discussions in the future.” He quipped, letting the door fall shut behind him.

Jubilee and Peter, as it turned out, were not in position. When Peter had realized how close they were getting to the younger Kurt’s room, he panicked and bolted.

Allegedly, on his part.

Kurt found him sulking in the room that he’d commandeered, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He glared at Kurt when he entered the room, but it was slightly undermined by the fact that he was still pouting.

“What did you do?” Peter asked, zipping to the door and making sure it was closed as Kurt forced his weary bones to not collapse on the floor, and take him to the bed instead. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kurt muttered into a pillow, wishing for nothing more than to sleep his troubles away. He knew the likelihood of said troubles being gone when he awoke were slim to zero, but he also knew that he was one and a half minutes away from shoving Peter and the little elf into a closet and forcing them to talk about their feelings.

“Don’t lie to me.” Peter sighed, flopping back on the bed. Kurt had forgotten the seemingly genetic dramatics that Pietro and his family tended to engage in, which should have been impossible, considering his family consisted of Wanda Maximoff, a literal witch with a flair for the dramatic, and Erik Lensherr, who once escaped prison by having Kurt’s mother inject a guard with pure iron and spent a few extra moments gloating with his witty one-liners.

“He came here and accused me of stealing you away from him because you seem to be avoiding him,” Kurt paused to look pointedly at Peter, who now refused to look at him. “Are you avoiding him?”

“Not on purpose. It’s just every time I look at him, I think about what you said, about how, in your future, I died and ruined everything. I can’t let myself do that to him, because he deserves to be happy, you know? Well, obviously you know, but if he can be happy without me, then who am I to try and keep that from him?”

“That is quite possibly the worst excuse for avoiding a relationship that I’ve ever heard.”

“What?”

“And I spent five years married to you. Well, a version of you. He tried to pull this shit once, too. Notice how I only said ‘once’ because believe me, if he’d tried it again, he would have died much sooner than he had.”

“I- what?”

“I’m saying that ‘what’ this is is bullshit. You love him, don’t you?”

“Well-”

“It’s a yes or no question, Peter Maximoff.” Kurt snarled, and Kurt could see the second that Peter realized that he was angry. Angry because this version of the man he loved was willing to give up everything they had on the off chance that he would die too soon. Angry because, yes, Kurt’s Pietro was dead, and he was never coming back, but this version of himself was being deprived of a happiness that Kurt never would have thought to dream of in his war-torn world because this version of the man he’d spent years adoring didn’t want to take a chance.

Silence filled the room, a heavy third presence that Peter was clearly finding difficult to interrupt.

“Yes.” He choked out, and it occurred to Kurt that this was the first time Peter had let himself say it aloud. The thought sobered him slightly, smoothing down the rough edges of his anger at the despondent man before him. “I love him.”

“Then tell him that. No, better yet, show him that.”

“But-”

“You died in my universe, yes, but that future is long gone. You are not him, and you never will be, because you’re entirely different people. You can’t be afraid of a ghost that never existed to begin with, and you can’t let a war that will never be fought hold you back. The little elf deserves to be happy, yes. But so do you, Peter.” Peter was quiet for a moment, which Kurt knew must have been the show of more than one hours’ worth of restraint.

“So what do I do?”

“I happen to know that Jubilee has some ideas.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

Kurt didn’t expect to run into his mother. He wasn’t sure why, but he still hadn’t put together the fact that everyone he knew in his world existed in some incarnation, living or dead, in this one, but on his way to meet with Jubilee, Ororo, and Peter to discuss what he needed to do next in the Grand Plan to woo the other Kurt, he ran into a petite blonde girl with Hank.

It took him an extra minute or so to place why she looked so familiar. And why she seemed slightly scared. When it clicked for him, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting the one thing that had kept him so confused.

“Why are you so short?” He asked, placing his hand flat out from the bridge of his nose to the few inches of empty air between where his mother currently stood, and where she should be. “And why are you blonde?”

“Excuse me?” She asked, her confusion turning quickly to bewilderment.

Jubilee appeared in the doorway to the living room and waved to him. He squinted down at his mother, and he quickly realized what he had been missing.

Everything had changed from what he knew.

“Of course.” He dragged a hand across his face. He was still exhausted. He suspected he always would be. “You still have your abilities. Es tut mir leid, mutter.” He said, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past her. He heard her squeak, and Hank sputter indignantly for a moment as he followed Jubilee into the next room.

“What did he just call you?!”

Jubilee’s ideas seemed to range from the “hopelessly romantic” to the “borderline ridiculous.” He realized as the four of them began to discuss what Peter should do next. Kurt insisted that just talking to the elf was going to be the best course of action, instead of, as Jubilee kept suggesting, blasting music from a boom-box like that scene from Say Anything.

Peter became increasingly hard to read as the discussion went on. Kurt couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong, but he knew that something was, and it wasn’t until Peter spoke up again, that Kurt realized just how uncertain Peter was about all of this.

He still didn’t believe that the Kurt in this universe could possibly be in love with him.

“I think, maybe, that Blue is right?” Peter and the others had also taken to calling him “Blue” instead of Kurt, because, to them, Kurt meant the little elf. Given the fact that he was the one outside of his regular universe, Kurt couldn't complain. He actually didn't mind it, as it was probably the tamest of the nicknames he'd been given throughout his life.

“I should just talk to him, right? Like that seems like it'd be the best plan. As much as I believe that music could probably bring about world peace and all, I don't think it's the best course of action here.”

Not to mention, Kurt didn't say, he could back out if it looked like things weren't going his way.

He couldn't claim that he didn't understand why Peter was scared, but it didn't much help the situation when Kurt knew he was right. Instead, it was just sort of frustrating.

“Peter,” Jubilee began, clearly sharing Kurt’s skepticism.

“I want to tell him. I’ve spent so much of my life facing other people’s problems, I think it’s about time that I handled one of my own.”

“I don’t know that I would call this a problem-”

“Oh, believe me. If you’re a Maximoff, feelings aren’t just a problem, they’re the problem. My twin sister spent three years in love with an AI that we stole and gave a body, and now she’s pining after some alien, I think. My nephews only exist because she didn’t listen to reason and ran away when she realized she was pregnant, and my mother fell for Magneto after three days. That’s not even going into my relationship history. Feelings equal problems. Pretty sure that that’s the family motto.”

“No it isn’t.” Kurt snorted, and he could tell that Peter was about to keep going and try to prove him wrong when there was a clang! From just outside of the room. The group looked at each other warily before getting up and wandering to the hallway. Outside, the other Kurt was struggling against the weight of what appeared to be four trash bags layered together. Kurt had a slight suspicion that he knew what was in the bags.

“What’cha got there?” Peter asked, clearly surprised at the sight before him. The younger Kurt’s eyes flicked to Kurt, who smiled and nodded at his counterpart supportively.

“Just... stuff. When I got my things back from the circus, there were a few items that I realized I no longer needed.” Kurt poked Peter in the side before the silence that followed the other Kurt’s words could grow.

“Looks heavy. Do you need help?”

“That would be wonderful!” The little elf proclaimed brightly. “I’m just taking it to the incinerator.”

��We have an incinerator?” Jubilee whispered, and Ororo shrugged. “Well, you two enjoy that.” She grabbed Ororo’s arm and nudged Kurt backwards with her shoulders as she spoke again, louder, “We’re going back to our scrabble tournament. You should join us when you come back.”

“We will, I’m sure!” the little elf said, still looking positively ecstatic. Kurt wasn’t sure if it was due to the fact that he was getting rid of the items that had caused him such pain and turmoil in the past, or because Peter was paying attention to him again, or some combination of the two, but Kurt felt impossibly happy for him. The trio retreated into the room again, and waited an impossible few moments before they unanimously decided to get back up and follow their friends.

“Looks like we do have an incinerator.” Jubilee whispered as they stood outside the door to the device in question, hardly daring to peer inside as they eavesdropped.

The bag rested on the ground between the two, and Peter was awash with light from the incinerator. Kurt could see the half-awed, half terrified expression on his younger self’s face and knew that whatever Peter said next needed to include a confession, or else they both might just lose their nerve.

“There’s not a body in this bag, is there?” Peter joked, and Kurt and the girls watched, enraptured as the little elf laughed and shook his head, pulling open the incinerator door.

“No, the equipment I had can get a bit heavy.” Kurt said vaguely, drawing his eyes over Peter as the speedster bent over and picked up the trash bag. “I’ll tell you about it later. The others-”

“Are busy playing scrabble.” Peter finished for him, “They won’t notice if we’re gone a few more moments. But,” Peter hesitated, disguising the hesitation well as distraction from throwing the bag inside of the machine, instead. “I needed to tell you something. And I swear we can pretend this never happened, I’m actually really good at pretending things never happened,”

Kurt had to watch the exchange through his fingers, certain that Peter would change his mind at any moment, but the little elf kept looking at Peter encouragingly, and something told Kurt that Peter was going to make this work no matter what.

“Peter,” The little elf murmured, and that was all it took to get Peter back on track.

“Sorry, I’m a little nervous. Um,” Peter went red, his right hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. He maintained eye contact with Kurt, though, clearly trying to show Kurt his sincerity, despite his faltering words. Peter took a step closer to Kurt, and the trio in the doorway leaned closer to catch his words. “Listen, Kurt, I have feelings for you. Like, more than friendship feelings. More than friendship feelings of the ‘I want to date you’ way.” Before Kurt had a chance to respond, Peter put his hands up in front of himself in the ‘I surrender’ position, “And if you don’t feel the same way, no big deal, we never have to talk about this again. Heck, we never have to talk again, I just-” He lowered his hands, seeming to realize that the stunned look on Kurt’s face was still blindingly happy, and that Kurt hadn’t teleported or run out of the room yet. “I really wanted you to know. The other version of you that came here, he helped me realize that there isn’t enough time for any of us to worry about whether or not things are going to go our way. There wasn’t enough time for me to be afraid, and I could die tomorrow for all I know, but I realized that dying without telling you how I felt about you would be doing you a disservice. I mean, sure there’s the slightest possibility that you feel the same way, which would be awesome-”

“I do.” Kurt blurted, cutting off Peter’s increasingly verbose speech.

“Huh?”

“I do feel the same way. I want to date you, too. But I would prefer it if you didn’t die tomorrow, if it’s all the same to you.”

Kurt got to see as the smile crossed Peter’s face, matching the elf’s in intensity, but that was all before a strong grip on his arm began to drag him away from the doorway.

“They did it, now we need to let them have their moment!” Jubilee hissed when they were far enough away. She held Ororo in a similar grip, but the other girl wasn’t being dragged, instead she seemed to be letting herself get pulled along, humoring her girlfriend with a contented smile on her face.

“Well,” Kurt said, only half teasing. “It looks like my work here is done. The universe can swallow me up now and solve the paradox.” Storm snorted at his words.

“Not a chance. Like Peter said, you’re a Maximoff. You’re stuck with us, now.” She said, breaking Jubilee’s grip and moving to Kurt’s other side, dragging them both away from their abandoned scrabble board and towards the kitchen.

Compared to sentinels on his tail, and the possibility that his friends and family would die at any moment, Kurt would take a million abandoned scrabble games. Being stuck here couldn’t be considered a bad thing in the slightest.

[silkhuikj]

silk

Silk

by Hui Kj 

****************************

Bailey, 

Not the twins or fish rot find faces, and I did not know exactly until after your submarine redirected their mirror lipstick, which is hardly possible to get the subjects more gleeful until your Atlantis: where identity is scanned by [redacted] and your group will be occupying in the sea training, all your ladies from your power shedding but please, for not much longer for such a way is different here now; you can come back to our home planet and your ladies will remember you as I have over such awhile.

For me, motel to motel: lights and backflip, scanning stress, heart rate normal but tried - and what I fear now is your capture and to see locked portals when you teleport into some planet’s virus that shows how you just refuse to be predictable and become hologram trickery, and friendly your way thru in disguise and that is my meaning to advise against your risk taking, besides the mere admiration I have: to avoid but of course promptly applaud on how you adapt across intimidating lines, and what I fear is that you have been brought here and there in your own way of time, yet by my traces shaping, and /Silk/’s gambling habits and you remain invisible one day at a time. Forget old-key monuments; not in this phase of life. 

/Silk/ with their gene, file pile separation operation for animal evolution, brain swapping and to sense-evolve: being able to see the scent in the lab: see thru fog - or hear their sigh as crickets choir to a song of freedom outside the bases on acre-vastness maybe noticed. See undo modern garden and me as fuck up then with the modern tree with extraction for our potions that remain classified, and I fuck up edit-copy-send and refuse to supply 100% of my own intel piles - there is a kingdom getting more difficult to fight for. 

Sometimes there are branches French kissing or cloud faces turning to see: all too addicting but they remain when I break eye contact and that is why we seek out identity because identity is everywhere if you hunt metaphysics or any bloom or trail. My curtains are closed now - and the powers are wearing off since I removed myself out of fear. 

A joke would be fireworks if we do not see each other but the cosmos specks are stories: the static riot and all the Rains, and all the Noahs, and all the Summers; shame for the tongue at the edge of worlds to wait on but deniable recruitment statuses, or a wise one does not have the knack or interest for our history and maybe even any history neither. You bite your tongue. If subject is at truth then it is ice cold when they are older yet you help them from the sea. Game but will title. So, when crazy B? 

/Silk/ is very serious about when green is black there is orange. If God knew of what you said that day then…..this is why I am alone and gave my office to our good pal Garcia who you teamed then but you were sent elsewhere because of the so many blueprints. He might of stole information like I did so, but he is an artist - I have not been back for almost a year, and I will not get current-tied; not again because you are already there and anywhere often but away. They remain a vision tilt opus all in all frequently, and that is /Silk/ while we can write these letters but somehow are separated by design tally planets away, mild difference with submarines, airplanes, or again classified means…(teleport), but you do not think that is true and your letters tell me that each person planted should envy each other and collectively better the world - /Silk/ is good but it all separates us. Jolie amour, I need to see you. /Silk/ is sending me someone - Godspeed. . .

- K.Well

***********************************

Bailey, 

Did /Silk/ call for a virtual huddle when the scan came thru? I do not know if heaven cheers or if the sky is the first to go dark - I am not in the system anymore. My den is poison-lights straining me with puzzle strings if void is nothing or everything lately. I meant something else about teacher-twins. [Filter]: sonder not bombers; they are not reporting on recruits from planet: Sneurnka: make sure /Silk/ knows different hums are different revivers and then learn it.. all subjects will be tested about planet flexibility and I will send spies on my own if I must. 

I love you Bailey. When you turn on Church Street out-under, do you crack from the suicide I have caused? The admirers… I am trying to preserve this for you from me, or just my depictions made some crazy when they were fine and it was misguided when the risk was absolute zero but was taken as contradiction. Garcia told you; so you can know my pain: weary agent uncurling. Me for earth - you at Atlantis - /Silk/ unknown: we want to save Sneurnka. Although, there is a raptured fever held and kept to a butterfly and your data fraction was saved and I have it here with me. (Reference: Garcia: code: Wolfman.) He sent me a letter about green suicide: not too far away from me now. It is someone - possibly an old subject, and I found him and invited him to coffee…. Ah, we need a double against old friends, find my chip; last buffered 492582 and even what did I Mrs. then? - in hiding for this. The subject will collapse in will offer up himself for the Sneurnka attack; the issue is all he knows is snow just pressed diction and fear for coming back - he is 30 minutes away. 

I will try spelling it out for him ad submerge lightning in honor of your sector with options for placement. My cup of tea is psychosis even though I remember how brave you were in training, even outlining the teacher’s alien drawings and it was impossible for you to not get promoted and promoted on. You helped me, and /Silk/ gave you that noble internship and when God showed your eyes were shut because one of the Noah’s turtles went blue; /Silk/ was zapped by God, and extraction is what I am trying to get to you but it is tangible unlike our computer army that I refuse to reopen those blueprints and be discovered  )))))))))))))))

((((((((((((((( Subject 1 brought his cousin to the cafe. She (2) told me to be sick six times. It made it seem that things were reserved for the last: they had cuts on their arms and around their body and even mentioned they would sometimes slice each other to feel - /Silk/ is interested because of their undeniably unique aesthetic with the moodiness, enigma spy, and they told me the uncommon fight is how glow is glow and I am guessing /Silk/ will offer these two help and if it is incest then many things could be of disturbance to the code and DNA of any of our bases. They just do many drugs; mostly meth for telepathy access. Denial they would throw pennies at me but you would be the cousin’s Queen. It is just their mayday. ))

— 

The subjects told me how their vibration is grey but remain investigating. My jaw dropped when they spoke of death wishes, and without hesitation I offered up a planet Sneurnka visitation. Their grey rain in a season and meeting destiny accidentally: subject 2 spoke up, I need /Silk/ to stay away from this kind of plotting: her filter exposes and forfeits progression 00000 doom but they will be away at Sneurnka to learn about spite, and you are the one I trust B - if you go there you could have your position changed: I know asking for more of your help is painful both ways, but new subjects contact me swiftly but urgently throughout my months data scanning. You could help these subjects, and you have dearly planted productivity at Atlantis. Your tracking will be up again once you arise. Thanks for all you do.  

K.Well

*******************************

Bailey,

Wolfman dimension Q swayed your findings and concerns for you to report to Sneurnka, even though your 7th sent me a direct postcard from London - thank you for writing my dear: I am jazzed even if everyone else just knows your badge. In your letter, I must say, you misplaced something: ‘cat9’ which the code has changed and now only means, ‘Virginia, Vegas fathers’ - which Wolfman has drafted your report so all in all to /Silk/; you have your clones pretty and handsome: bravery; as you are always and everyone fears you for ethics. 

Your dyed your hair black and your profile ‘Xxxx-00000’ is equivalent to the April trinity: tho all scanning winter, summer, spring, and still in progress. You always told me you just wanted to be normal, and I do not know if I can fix that: you bring peace and if you are tired of retire daydream then I will contact /Silk/ and see if they can give you a vacation in Z and electrify a twin to achieve points Sneurnka or not, and if you never see me again: it is because Wolfman said I was crazy and rebellious and evil for deactivating my will to get out - this matrix is a doorbell: but I am afraid the only nerves is that nobody will show. I have merged my clones for a greater cause  and /Silk/ is not only guarding you but slowly casting virus walls in my chips thru our line. Yet, you are the invisible one, and maybe you will frenzy to freedom without my help. 

Wolfman is dialing…)))))))))))))))))) 

((((((((((((((((((((( So,…. /Silk/ has found a C in America, Earth. so your 9 was correct: well done! Wolfman wanted me to tell you about this important art: XXXXXXX by XXXXXXX, and that was all. B, my eyes on you will stay to protect but I am no host. Turn around if you feel anxious, but I know that is wave oriented and you are so bold and infinitely inspiring. You said in your letter that Atlantis is in order. I will be scanning in Sneurnka for awhile while you train C - remember, Earth’s eye is violent but Sneurnka is worse - Wolfman will assist with……))))))))))))))))

(((((((((((((((( 

(

I cannot scan any finds; undetectable information walls - your parents are dialing my phone but my phone is under. Reading about the suicides - oh no B. I can not send anymore blueprints and there is no clearance for you to know about the Wvm-virus that slipped out from my lab…. - unplugging, updates thru my brother only, he is on Mars. 

Bailey, if we had matching shoes…. You will be hearing from /Silk/ soon I predict. I am weak and they know about me but not you. I am sorry. I love you. Goodbye for now! ~~~~~~~~~~ <3

- A.Well

*************************************

1 year later —————

It was to attempt to think in front of me and it was awkward now without subjects coming to see me - I never left the motel room and have not seen daylight. There are dreams of crows and the roar of trees of winds that I called peace but the crows from my bad dreams. I kept busy sifting thru war crime data and I have not heard from /Silk/ - would refuse jobs anyway. The thought of getting a bicycle was like heroin, and nobody could make out my face - even tho Sneurnka acutely invaded parts of here maybe two hours out.

My doppelgängers expired - Wolfman in the news but Bailey hail for peace never seen but remarkable invisibility. It is difficult to see forward; never had a track on her, my brother on Mars never alerts me, /Silk/ sends shocks to my chip twice a day but everyone uninvolved from past status and now I am an utter waste…. 

C might rival with Bailey, and Wolfman may end up like me: depressed and heartbroken without a seeming purpose but to tune into war and unable. He never made a death wish, and neither did I, but my eyes were red then. There is always the surrendering of brain in a /Silk/ lab, but seclusion has made me mad and any action at all seems like suicide - ah, trapped but was a villain. Earth has spun, and Sneurnka the action needed - /Silk/ will conquer the galaxy and imprison me as something official, differing from now in motels. 

***************** (mental hospital)

Daniel! I know you! I know you Daniel! Hey! I know you!

**************************

Doctor Frances floated him to sleep thru his veins……

[itsiotrecords-blog]

http://ift.tt/2sE49gH

Have you ever dreamed of getting insanely rich overnight? Well, of course you have. Everybody wishes he or she could wake up and never have to work another day, having everything one could ever want or need. That’s why the lottery and gambling are so popular and ‘get-rich schemes’ on the internet are endless. People fall for these scams in the hope that they might be the one to get lucky to find the gold to prove that the odds weren’t against them. What about searching for a hidden treasure? Wouldn’t this fulfill every childhood dream you had? You might be surprised to find out that there are still hidden treasures out there all over the world. Things that have never been found. There is gold hidden by pirates, old artifacts stolen, golden owls hidden away for fun, yellow Indian diamonds missing, crazy expensive necklaces with thousands of diamonds, and so much more, all waiting to be discovered.

#1 Forest Fenn’s Hidden Artifacts Forest Fenn was a rich collector who was diagnosed with kidney cancer in 1988. So, with only a year to live, he went to the Rocky Mountains and hid many treasures and old artifacts estimated to value about one to three million dollars. It’s like an old adventure film. He left instructions in the form of a riddle to help people find his treasures. “Begin it where warm waters halt And take it in the canyon down, Not far, but too far to walk. Put in below the home of Brown.” Seriously! How generalized and unspecific did he want his riddle to be? No wonder no one has ever been able to find it.

#2 The Golden Owl Have you ever tried to drive someone crazy? Well, this is the way to do it. A man went by the name Max Valentine and in 1993, he claimed he had hidden a treasure, a golden owl in the French Country Side. He said if anyone managed to find it, he would reward them that person a million dollars. People went crazy trying to find this. Some even burned a church down in pursuit of this golden owl. In an interview, Max Valentine stated that the owl was still in place as he had gone back to check on its location. He said people had gotten close with obvious signs of searching nearby. Unfortunately, Max Valentine is now dead and no one knows whether the owl is even still hidden. Imagine if this man just made up the whole story to draw attention to himself and give the impression to everyone in the world that he had enough money to play games with it. We can only guess.

#3 Thomas Beale’s $63 Million Thomas Beale was a miner who discovered about $63 million worth of gold with a few other men in 1816. They wanted to make sure their children and all their descendants got this money so they left it hidden. Thomas Beale wrote three codes describing where the treasure was, what the treasure was, and the names of the men and their family, so that they would know who the treasure belonged to. He gave this code in a box to a man named Robert Morris who was supposed to open the box after ten years. Thomas Beale was supposed to send a key for the codes if he wasn’t able to return, but he never did. Robert and a friend tried their best to translate the code, but the best they could do was understand what the treasure was. No one has found the treasure to this day.

#4 Pearls In The Salton Sea In 1612, a ship was sailed by Juan De Iturbe across the Pacific Ocean. Rumor has it that the ship sank in what is now known as the Salton Sea, in the Mojave Desert. They say there were loads of expensive black pearls on the ship. The pearls are believed to be worth millions of dollars. The men say they were tossed off the boat into Cahuilla and had to leave the ship and hike on foot all the way to safety. No one has ever claimed to find all these pearls, so people believe that they are still out there somewhere. This legend has grown in fame, so much so that they even made a movie about the treasure being found in 1870.

#5 Diamonds In London This treasure has a greater chance of being discovered since it was only lost in 2009. Graff Diamonds is an expensive jewelry store in London that was robbed in 2009. The two men who robbed the place had extensive disguises. They had gone to a makeup artist for four hours before the robbery, changing their faces and hair. They said to each other that even their own mother wouldn’t have been able to recognize them. They went into the Graff store pretending to buy jewelry and then held an employee at gunpoint forcing the store to give them 43 pieces of jewelry worth up to about $65 million. These jewels were never discovered even though both of the men were eventually caught by police. So there is $65 million worth of jewels and diamonds out there somewhere. Although, if you did find these stolen jewels, you would still have to return them, as each one is marked and chipped with the Graff code.

#6 Flor Do Mar Put on your scuba-diving gear and get ready for the underwater experience of your life. A nobleman, Afonso de Albuquerque, had a large Carrack filled with gifts for the King of Portugal. The boat had traveled around the Indian Ocean, but unfortunately sank in November, 1511. This was one of the biggest Carracks in existence for its time, weighing 400 tons. So when you hear that it was full of treasure, you know there had to be a lot. This treasure was taken from the Sultan of Malacca’s palace. The ship sunk during a storm leaving many men dead. It sunk in the Kingdom of Aru, Sumatra off Timia Point. Alfonso lost all of the treasure. The boat and its treasure are still to be discovered. Portugal, Indonesia, and Malaysia are all fighting over who actually owns the boat if it is found, so you might have a hard time keeping this treasure even if you discover it.

#7 Mosby’s $350,000 Colonel John Singleton Mosby (is that not the longest name you’ve ever heard?), also known as the Gray Ghost because of how quickly he disappeared, was a commander in the Civil War in Virginia, fighting in the Battle of Bull Run and the Peninsular Campaign. He had outstanding skills in disappearing and blending into things to avoid being caught. As a child, he was weak and frail and was often bullied. He always tried to fight back and would lose. He shot a kid that was attacking him, without killing him, and ended up in jail for a year. Perhaps this is what taught him to disappear and hide rather than attack face on. He took $350,000, but then almost got caught so he and his men buried the treasure. He sent men back later to collect the money, but they were all caught and killed. So John Mosby never ended up going back to collect his treasure.

#8 The Irish Crown Jewels People are still trying to work out how the Irish Crown Jewels went missing back in 1907. The cleaner who worked in the Dublin Castle discovered the safe wide open with the jewels gone, while the inner door had been secured with the library key still in the lock. The Jewels were said to be worth around £1,340,000 in 2015 and contain the “jeweled star and badge regalia of the Sovereign and Grand Master of the Order of St. Patrick.” The safe was moved in 1907, but the dimensions were wrong and so it couldn’t fit in the strong room, so they had to store it in the office of the King of Arms, Arthur Vicars. The keys were all held by the Vicars and staff. They were very relaxed about this. The Vicar got drunk once and awoke with all the precious jewels on him. This might not have been an outside job. Perhaps it was carried out by those who protected the jewels. People say these jewels have probably been broken to pieces and sold off or hidden away somewhere.

#9 The Florentine Diamond This mystery feels like the sort of thing you find in many novels. The Florentine Diamond is a beautiful yellow diamond with origins from India that was valued at $750,000 during World War One. The stone dates back to at least 1476. During the 1700’s, the jewels were placed in the Hapsburg Crown Jewels after Francis Stephan of Lorraine married Empress Maria Theresa, bringing the jewel to Vienna with him. During WWI, the Austrian Empire fell. Thus, Charles I took many jewels, including the Florentine diamond, into exile to Switzerland. This diamond was stolen by an unknown subject around 1918 and was taken to South America. With no clue of its whereabouts, some claim it may have been cut up and sold in America after it was stolen in 1918. If it wasn’t cut and resold, it would be an extremely impressive jewel to discover and would be worth a great amount today.

#10 Oak Island Mystery The Oak Island Mystery is a baffling one. While many critics believe there is no treasure on this island, there have been countless books written about this mystery and even a documentary that was aired in 2014 about finding the hidden treasure of the island. The Oak Island is located in Canada in Nova Scotia’s south shore. There are so many different theories as to what’s hidden in these islands, mostly ancient artifacts and numerous locations the supposed treasures could be. Mostly, treasure hunters like to look at a few specific locations—the “Money Pit, a formation of boulders called Nolan’s Cross, the beach at Smith’s Cove, and a triangle-shaped swamp.” They say that the Money Pit has already been excavated and nothing has ever been found, but people continue to go to these islands to search.

#11 Patiala Necklace This is a pretty amazing necklace. It contains 2,930 diamonds. Not only that, but it actually holds the world’s seventh largest diamond known as the “De Beers,” some rubies, and seven more diamonds with 18 to 73 carats. The necklace was made for Bhupinder Singh of Patiala in 1928 by the House of Cartier, and then later given to Maharaja, also of the state of Patiala. Somehow, in 1948, the necklace disappeared, but the famous De Beers diamond reappeared in 1982 by itself at Geneva auction being sold for $3.16 million. The rest of the necklace later surfaced in London, but was of course missing all of its large diamonds and rubies. Cartier decided to buy the necklace and remake it. It took them four years, and they only made a replica, probably realizing the danger of making such an outrageous necklace. They filled the missing jewels with cubic zirconia and made a fake De Beers diamond for the centerpiece.

#12 Alamo Treasure In Texas USA, the lost Alamo Treasure is hidden. The Mexican army fought 100 men from Texas and destroyed every single one of them in the battle of the Alamo in 1836. Reportedly, the Alamo had hidden treasure of gold in its grounds worth millions. The treasure was brought to help free the Texas people from Mexico. They hid the treasure in case another war arose and they needed supplies. The theory is that the treasure was hidden in the bottom of the well, though others believe there isn’t any treasure and that if there were, they wouldn’t have hidden it in a well during a war, as that would have dirtied their only access to clean drinking water in the instance of a siege. The Alamo was a fortress and also used as a Roman Catholic mission. The building was actually designed for educating the newly converted Christian American natives. The front street has already been excavated in search of the lost treasure. The building is now a museum.

#13 Poland’s Royal Casket Poland’s Royal Casket was made for royalty in 1800 and was said to contain seventy-three prized relics “including gold watches, chains, silver rosaries, ivory boxes and silver cutlery.” It went missing during the World War II after it was sent to Sieniawa in Southwest Poland. They tried to hide the treasure in Poland, but ended up losing it. Some people say that its whereabouts were given away in 1939 by a local named German Miller who told the invading Nazis where to find the hidden Royal Casket. To this day, none of the missing relics have been found. It’s possible that they are all scattered throughout Germany hidden in various places.

#14 Ivory Coast Jewels $6 Million The Ivory Coast Jewels were stolen only in 2011. The museum in the capital of Ivory Coast was robbed during the Abidjan battle. They believe this robbery had help from the inside as none of the windows or glass boxes were smashed and the doors weren’t even open. The museum hasn’t been able to recover a single thing. The museum has managed to mark most of the stolen things in the Interpol database, so that if anything surfaces, they will know that it’s stolen. They didn’t just steal things of monetary value, these artifacts contain Ivory Coast’s precious history, with some of them being from as early as the 17th century. “Among the stolen artifacts were 35 gold pendants dating from the 18th Century, 12 traditional necklaces from the 17th Century, six miniature gold boxes from the 18th Century, a 19th Century royal sabre, and an Akan king headdress, which could come from the Baoule or Anyi kingdoms.”

#15 Jean Lafitte Jean Lafitte was a pirate from France. He and his brother worked together during the 19th century to steal treasure off boats in the Gulf of Mexico. They were hardcore pirates. They had a warehouse set up where they would bring the treasure to sell it. Many people believe that Jean and his brother, Pierre Laffite, had so much treasure that they weren’t able to sell it all. Instead, they began to bury the treasure to keep it safe. Whether this part is true or just a legend is hard to really know. Rumor has it that the treasure was buried in Lake Borgne and still remains there. This is located near the coast of New Orleans. Jean died in 1823, right before pirates basically became extinct in the Gulf of Mexico. There are also many rumors and legends about his death. No one is really sure how it happened.

Source: TheRichest