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Council of Heroes: Day 3

(Screenshots from Royal Mike!)

Financier Cookie: Good morning, sir. How was your night’s rest? Financier Cookie: I am sure you have an eventful day ahead. Clotted Cream Cookie: I must acquire more information on that so-called “Soul Jam.” It will be a busy day indeed. Financier Cookie: Understood. I will make all necessary arrangements, sir. Clotted Cream Cookie: Soul Jam… The receptacle of an ancient mystery. Clotted Cream Cookie: A vessel of pure power harnessed by true heroes only. I must uncover your secrets…! Clotted Cream Cookie: Financier Cookie. You have been keeping a keen eye on the matters in the castle ever since we arrived. Were you able to find any traces of our objective? Financier Cookie: I noticed that the Ancient Heroes’ treasured weapons emanate great power, sir. Financier Cookie: However, my primary duty is your safety, sir. I am afraid I possess too few facts to aid you in your pursuit of knowledge. Financier Cookie: If you have any further instructions for me… Clotted Cream Cookie: Ha ha, I understand. Clotted Cream Cookie: Let us step outside! It is a wonderful day for a stroll around the castle grounds!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: The WaffleBots are marvels of Vanillian magichanical engineering! Strawberry Crepe Cookie: A pioneering, innovative, state-of-the-art fusion of enchanting and technology! And I am the only Cookie around capable of keeping everything in tip-top condition! That’s right! Espresso Cookie: Intriguing. Espresso Cookie: What kind of force puts them in motion? Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Oh, oh, you wanna see the schematics?! Espresso Cookie: Let’s see… Outdated formulas… Bah, suboptimal enchanting techniques… Pshh, they could have simply utilized cream as a cooling agent. Espresso Cookie: …Indeed, it’s a marvel that these derelict machines are still functional! Clotted Cream Cookie: Strawberry Crepe Cookie, Espresso Cookie! I have been searching for you! Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Oh! 2% Connivingness! Come in! Clotted Cream Cookie: …Yet again, you see right through me, young friend. Ha ha! Clotted Cream Cookie: Hm, I wonder… Have you ever analyzed any of the Ancient Heroes’ dough? An inquisitive mind such as yourself must have found them rather fascinating! Strawberry Crepe Cookie: I tried, ALRIGHT! But even my superb equipment has its limits against them! Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Some kind of overwhelming power almost fried it! And I never tried again ever since… Clotted Cream Cookie: “Overwhelming power,” you say… Villager Cookie 1: Strawberry Crepe Cookie, you should see this…! One of the Wafflebots broke down while helping us build a house! Strawberry Crepe Cookie: WHAT? Did you feed the robot yucky raisins again?! They are PRECISION TOOLS! I told you A HUNDRED TIMES that you should treat them with CAUTION! Strawberry Crepe Cookie: UGH! Guess I must go and fix it, UH-GAIN! SO LONG! A little later…

Clotted Cream Cookie: The Ancients’ dough… Overwhelming power… What on Earthbread could Soul Jam be? Espresso Cookie: The data we’ve managed to gather indicates that Soul Jam’s main component could be Life Powder. Espresso Cookie: Highly compressed, this Life Powder-enriched jam crystallized into a hard candy-like state bearing the energy of Life itself. Espresso Cookie: However, despite our best efforts, we were unable to identify neither the origin of this substance nor how it was introduced to the Cookie Continent. Espresso Cookie: What we know for certain is that primordial Cookies regarded the Soul Jam as a gift from the gods. Clotted Cream Cookie: Power of an unknown origin… Clotted Cream Cookie: No wonder those who wield it are called “Heroes.” Espresso Cookie: I will summarize our findings in a written report, sir. Clotted Cream Cookie: Thank you. Until next time.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Ser Madeleine Cookie. It is strange to find you here in the Solarium of Unity all by yourself. Were you… sightseeing? Madeleine Cookie: Take a look, sire! Figures of the Five Heroes on the stained glass… Madeleine Cookie: Odd, is it not? The size and shape of these windows, the look of this glass… It all resembles the Republican style. Clotted Cream Cookie: True! Indeed, we are at the origin of our culture, my friend. Seeing with my own eyes where it all began is, by all means, humbling. Wistful, even. Madeleine Cookie: Have you had a chance to meet our home, Mansion Madeleine, sir? I cannot help but reminisce its* azure carpets and airy windows shedding warm sunlight…

*actual text

Clotted Cream Cookie: Home… Clotted Cream Cookie: Ser Madeleine Cookie, I’ve been meaning to ask… What was the reason for you and your… colleague’s departure from the Crème Republic? Clotted Cream Cookie: How did it happen that the two of you- Cookies of great merit without a doubt- were chosen among other Paladins and scientists? Madeleine Cookie: Oh, it happened before your appointment as Consul, sire. I trust you are well aware of the so-called “Light Fragment Incident,” right? Madeleine Cookie: Though it was just the slightest sliver of a Light Fragment, it could have resulted in our glorious Republic being completely wiped off the map! Clotted Cream Cookie: Yes, yes, of course. And it is you and Espresso Cookie we have to thank for our salvation, correct? Clotted Cream Cookie: And in the end, it was confirmed that the Light Fragments were, in fact, pieces of shattered Soul Jam? Madeleine Cookie: Yes, sir. Soul Jam shattered during the Dark Flour War, to be precise. Madeleine Cookie: A war Dark Enchantress Cookie started to gain control of all existing Soul Jam. Madeleine Cookie: Thanks to the Ancient Heroes’ collective efforts, the world as we know it exists to this day. However, pieces of Soul Jam were scattered across the entire continent. Clotted Cream Cookie: Could there be more of these Light Fragments in this land that are yet to be discovered? Clotted Cream Cookie: If such great power were to fall into the wrong hands… Without a doubt, it will cause catastrophic events! Clotted Cream Cookie: If but a small fraction of Soul Jam is capable of destroying the Crème Republic, finding and securing the remaining pieces is a matter of grave importance! Clotted Cream Cookie: Thank you for sharing this with me. It seems like this puzzle is finally coming together… Clotted Cream Cookie: Then why don’t we… Hm? Are you not coming, Ser Madeleine Cookie? Madeleine Cookie: I’d like to stay a bit more and look at the stained glass! Please, do not wait for me and go first, sire! Clotted Cream Cookie: Very well! It was a pleasure, Ser Madeleine Cookie.

Wildberry Cookie: …Ugh… Wildberry Cookie: (I knew I shouldn’t have drank berry juice…) Wildberry Cookie: Perhaps, I should check on the Queen Mother… Sounds from the Outside: Ha ha! Yeah, this shield has seen some fight! But it’s still hard enough to block any attack! Wildberry Cookie: Hollyberry Cookie is outside! Ugh… I feel dry as a bone. I must find something to drink. Wildberry Cookie: Juice… Wildberry Cookie: More… juice… Wildberry Cookie: Juice again…?! Wildberry Cookie: I must… dispose of these.

Dark Cacao Cookie: An unexpected visitor. Dark Cacao Cookie: Clotted Cream Cookie. What brings you here? Clotted Cream Cookie: Oh, I find a good walk in the morning rather beneficial! Besides, there is much I would like to learn about the fabled Dark Cacao Kingdom! Clotted Cream Cookie: Your Majesty has managed to keep the throne for such a long time, warding off dire monsters and beasts… Your Cookies must respect you greatly. And that impressive wall…! Clotted Cream Cookie: The warriors of Dark Cacao are famous for their impeccable discipline. All thanks to Your Majesty, an exemplar of wisdom and strength! Dark Cacao Cookie: Hmm. Our warriors are strong and our blades are sharp indeed. Clotted Cream Cookie: All this time, you have been defending the continent bravely. Our own Republic owes the Dark Cacao Kingdom its safety! Clotted Cream Cookie: Yet, I cannot help but wonder… Where does the source of such great strength lie? Clotted Cream Cookie: Protecting the whole world with nothing but a sword is no simple feat, even for a great king such as yourself. Tell me, what fuels your might? Or is it… the sword itself? Dark Cacao Cookie: !!! Such uncanny interest in my sword…! Dark Cacao Cookie: Are you, too, tempted by its magical powers? Clotted Cream Cookie: …Tempted? No, not at all! I offer my apologies for causing a misunderstanding. I was merely… curious about the secret to your land’s greatness. Dark Cacao Cookie: Great power brings nothing but dangers and hardships of equal scale. Dark Cacao Cookie: Many a covetous gaze has been aimed at this blade, yet none have managed to wrest it from my hand. Dark Cacao Cookie: You too, should not try. Unless you are prepared for the consequences of your actions. Dark Cacao Cookie: Do not query about this sword for you are in no right to claim it. Clotted Cream Cookie: I-I… I apologize for my intrusion. Clearly, my curiosity clouded my judgment. I hope Your Majesty understands. Clotted Cream Cookie: Good day, sir. I look forward to meeting you again at the council.

Crunchy Chip Cookie: Huh? Is your Consul here? Financier Cookie: The Consul is a very busy Cookie. Whatever business you have, it will have to wait. Crunchy Chip Cookie: Nah, I’m not here for that creamy sort! I came to you! Financier Cookie: You see information? Crunchy Chip Cookie: That… spoon… scoon… scone thing you gave me? Believe me, I’m not here to ask for more! Yuck! Crunchy Chip Cookie: Too sweet! BUT! You eat sweets like that all the time, right? I wanna see how you fare in battle! Crunchy Chip Cookie: Thing is, I can’t fight with your Consul Cookie. That’s why I’m asking YOU to spar with me! Financier Cookie: …Hm. You are here to spar with me? Financier Cookie: Very well. I accept your request. Financier Cookie: What was it you said? “Sweets corrupt the mind and hinder the body?” Financier Cookie: I suggest that you demonstrate your best skill. For my battle prowess is neither hindered, nor corrupted. Crunchy Chip Cookie: Ha ha! Draw your sword! Someone’s Tummy: *grumbling sounds* Crunchy Chip Cookie: Huh… What was that?! Financier Cookie: That sound… Cream Wolf: GRR GRRRR!

Financier Cookie: It seems like your wolf is starved. Crunchy Chip Cookie: Eh… Ahem… Right… Not the best timing… Crunchy Chip Cookie: But it’s nothing! For the stoic Dark Cacao Warriors do not fear hunger! Financier Cookie: The animal looks too exhausted to carry your weight. Perhaps, you should consider dismounting. Crunchy Chip Cookie: This wolf is my brother-in-arms! We fight as one! Crunchy Chip Cookie: Hunger? Cold? We don’t know what those words mean! Right, buddy? Cream Wolf: *Whimpers… but growls* Crunchy Chip Cookie: That’s the spirit! Now, draw your sword and defend yourself! Financier Cookie: I refuse to fight. Financier Cookie: I am a Paladin. My code forbids me from fighting the hungry. Crunchy Chip Cookie: WHAT? What’s that you’re saying?! Financier Cookie: No matter what you say, my sword will remain sheathed. Crunchy Chip Cookie: Pshh! What a stubborn Cookie! W-wait here! We’ll have a bite and be back!

Black Raisin Cookie: Phew… GingerBrave: Black Raisin Cookie! Hi! GingerBrave: Huh? Something troubling you? Black Raisin Cookie: It’s just as… I looked at the Vanilla Castle today, and it got me thinking. GingerBrave: It’s VERY crowded lately, isn’t it?! Nice to see this place so full of life! Black Raisin Cookie: Indeed. A lot has happened over the last few days. Black Raisin Cookie: Look around: this land is no longer dangerous, and the Cookies are finally looking into tomorrow with hope… Black Raisin Cookie: I only wish the future were as bright as they think… Ha ha! I must be worrying too much! GingerBrave: Black Raisin Cookie…! GingerBrave: No, no! I couldn’t agree more! We must be brave and keep running into the future! GingerBrave: Ha ha! I feel braver just by saying that! Why don’t we go and see what’s happening around here! Black Raisin Cookie: Alright! Good idea! Never skip a patrol, huh!

Villager Cookie 4: Oh? Mister Clotted Cream Cookie? What brings you to the Magic Academy? Clotted Cream Cookie: I was hoping to talk to Pure Vanilla Cookie. Can I find him here, perchance? Villager Cookie 4: Pure Vanilla Cookie is teaching a class right now. You’ll find him in the lecture room! Clotted Cream Cookie: Thank you kindly. Villager Cookie 4: There he is! But the lesson has just begun. I’m afraid you will have to wait. Pure Vanilla Cookie: …we will finally cover the long-awaited subject of Restoration Magic! Pure Vanilla Cookie: I will now ask you to focus on the object in front of you, think how much you care about it. Then, cast the healing spell. Villager Cookie 5: Rah! Villager Cookie 2: Hyah! Aww… It’s just too hard! Pure Vanilla Cookie: Remember to concentrate on how precious the object is. Why don’t we try the spell on this raisin? Villager Cookie 2: Okay. I’ll try again! Concentrate… Focus… Hyah! Villager Cookie 2: Oh wow! The raisin has become a ripe, plump grape! Villager Cookie 5: Woooow! You must have really liked that raisin! Villager Cookie 2: But… raisins are so much yummier than fresh grapes. How do I turn it back to a raisin? Pure Vanilla Cookie: Good job, students! Keep your enthusiasm and you will become powerful wizards in no time! Clotted Cream Cookie: Ha ha! It must be a great pleasure to study under such a splendid teacher! Clotted Cream Cookie: But I will not bother you. I shall pay you a visit later. Clotted Cream Cookie: Good luck, students! Villager Cookie 4: Come back soon!

Villager Cookie 3: Hiyah! Taaaaake THIS! Here I come! Financier Cookie: More youngsters… And Hollyberry Cookie. Hollyberry Cookie: No no no! You had a perfect opportunity to attack from the right flank! Hollyberry Cookie: And swing harder! At this rate, you won’t stand a chance against a baby Cake Monster! Again! Villager Cookie 3: But my hits are nothing against your shield! Villager Cookie 2: She’s right! Nothing can get past that shield! Hollyberry Cookie: Real enemies will not go easy on you in a real battle! You have to get it your all! Try! Experiment! AGAIN! Clotted Cream Cookie: Your Highness looks preoccupied… We can come another time. Hollyberry Cookie: Oh? Clotted Cream Cookie! As you can see, we were in the middle of a “battle.” Ha ha! Let’s wrap this up, kids! Clotted Cream Cookie: A rare chance to witness this legendary shield in action! That gem in the center has a very peculiar gleam to it… Enchanted, I take it? Hollyberry Cookie: That one is no simple stone! It’s my Soul Jam! Clotted Cream Cookie: Its light is a bit dim… Is something wrong? Hollyberry Cookie: Ah, that? You see, the power it used to hold shattered. Hollyberry Cookie: But with the help of a rather unexpected group of new friends. I managed to retrieve a fair amount! Hollyberry Cookie: yes, well, it may not shine as bright as in its better days, but make no mistake: my shield can still surprise you! Ha ha! I can still protect anyone from any attack! Villager Cookie 3: That’s not fair? How are we supposed to win?! Clotted Cream Cookie: The Queen Mother and renowned Hero herself, yet she still makes time to play with young Cookies. No wonder the Hollyberrians adore you! Clotted Cream Cookie: I simply cannot wait to meet the other two of the Five! Hollyberry Cookie: Golden Cheese Cookie and White Lily Cookie, huh? Hollyberry Cookie: Yes, Golden Cheese Cookie was a fun sort! All shiny and glittery… covered in golden cheese powder! She enjoyed her splendor, her riches. Hollyberry Cookie: Although she never came on time, she was a good friend! Hollyberry Cookie: And White Lily Cookie… Yes, I always felt like her thoughts dwelled someplace else. Even that last time we met… Hollyberry Cookie: She would always disappear out of the blue to wander the world in search of Truth… Hollyberry Cookie: Only to come back when her friends needed her help the most! Clotted Cream Cookie: Parting ways with close friends is never easy. You must be missing them greatly. Hollyberry Cookie: Well, you never know… After all, fate allowed me, Pure Vanilla Cookie, and Dark Cacao Cookie to reunite once more! Hollyberry Cookie: One day we’ll have a chance to greet our dear old friends once more, I’m sure of it! Villager Cookie 2: Hollyberry Cookie! Are you gonna spar with us or not?! Hollyberry Cookie: COMING! Sorry! Looks like I have to go!

Villager Cookie 5: Whoah! Just look at the size of this airship! Villager Cookie 5: Clotted Cream Cookie and Financier Cookie came on it straight from the Republic! Villager Cookie 1: I wanna go and take a closer look! Villager Cookie 5: Whoah! This ship is enormous! How does it even fly?! And look at those sleek and shiny wings! What a beauty! Villager Cookie 1: Will I ever get to travel the world on one of these…? Villager Cookie 1: Ha ha! All abroad! Anchors aweigh! Plot the course beyond the horizon! Financier Cookie: What is going on here? Villager Cookie 1: YIKES! O-oh, sorry! We were just… Clotted Cream Cookie: Hello! How do you like our airship, friends? Villager Cookie 5: S-sorry! We didn’t touch anything! I swear! Clotted Cream Cookie: Ha ha! Don’t worry! You may look around as much as you please! Villager Cookie 5: We can?! Clotted Cream Cookie: Of course! Flying vessels like this one are the pride of our Crème Republic! Villager Cookie 1: Whoah! C’mon y’all! Let’s take a look inside! Clotted Cream Cookie: Hm, the Vanilla Castle is floating in the air… Can you tell me how you got here in the first place…? It… does not seem like you had an airship of your own. Villager Cookie 1: We found a shiny stone in our village down below! Villager Cookie 1: Then a column of light appeared from the stone… Then we used it to come here, yes! Villager Cookie 5: It was just like magic! I think it was magic? Right? Guys Clotted Cream Cookie: “A column of light,” huh… Clotted Cream Cookie: What a curious story! I bet it was very fun! But I am afraid I must take my leave, But I hope you have a great time here. Financier Cookie: Consul, sir. How is it possible to travel via a… “”column of light?” Financier Cookie: I don’t believe we have such technology in the Republic. How did these Cookies…. Clotted Cream Cookie: Luck. Mere luck and coincidence. I surmised the ”stone ” they thought they found was a Light Fragment, a piece of shattered Soul Jam.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Ser Financier Cookie. There is something I must discuss with Madeleine and Espresso Cookie. Clotted Cream Cookie: Could you summon them to my chambers? Financier Cookie: Right away, Consul Espresso Cookie: You wished to see us? Clotted Cream Cookie: A matter of great importance has been on my mind ever since my arrival at the Vanilla Kingdom. And I believe… Yes, I must bring it up at the council. Clotted Cream Cookie: For the betterment of our Republic. Madeleine Cookie: Hmm?! What could it be…? Clotted Cream Cookie: I will be frank with you…

Madeleine Cookie: WHAT?! The Heroes will never…! Clotted Cream Cookie: Then we must find a way to convince them otherwise. If we allow such power to concentrate in their hands only, it will inevitably bring… undesirable side effects. Espresso Cookie: Yes, you are right. I see no other viable option. Madeleine Cookie: What? And you too?! But how…?! Clotted Cream Cookie: Words are a powerful tool. Clotted Cream Cookie: I trust you will support my proposition at the council? Madeleine Cookie: I will try… But I simply cannot see how it can be done! Clotted Cream Cookie: Naturally, it will not be an easy task. But nothing is simple in the world of politics. Yet it still warrants an attempt! Financier Cookie: Consul, sir. The council is about to begin. Other delegates have already gathered. Clotted Cream Cookie: Then it is time to join them. Clotted Cream Cookie: Today’s decisions will shape the future of the Crème Republic and the whole Cookie World.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: It seems like everyone here… Then let the second session begin! Pure Vanilla Cookie: Today, we must decide which kingdom will lead the expedition to the continent of Beast-Yeast in search of Dark Enchantress Cookie. Is everyone of the same opinion as yesterday? Hollyberry Cookie: Of course! We can handle any danger! Dark Cacao Cookie: No, our warriors are better suited for this mission! Clotted Cream Cookie: If I may, please? The Crème Republic has a new proposition. Clotted Cream Cookie: We believe it is in everyone’s best interest to select the fittest candidates from each nation for combined action. Clotted Cream Cookie: Each one of us has their strengths and weaknesses. Playing these cards smart seems to be the optimal course of action. Wildberry Cookie: Combined action…? Crunchy Chip Cookie: Go together with the Hollyberrians? Hm… Pure Vanilla Cookie: What a great proposition! After all, we share the responsibility to save our world! Pure Vanilla Cookie: Our goal is one: protecting Cookiekind from Dark Enchantress Cookie’s evil! Hollyberry Cookie: Then when do we start? Who’s willing to make contact with the dragons?

Clotted Cream Cookie: Before we proceed further, there is another matter I would like us to discuss. Clotted Cream Cookie: As our esteemed Pure Vanilla Cookie mentioned, indeed, we all share a collective responsibility. We must provide the xpedition with everything necessary to ensure its success. Clotted Cream Cookie: These Cookies will need power to fight and protect themselves. But where to find such power? We believe there is a solution… Dark Cacao Cookie: And what is this… solution? Clotted Cream Cookie: There is no source of power greater than Soul Jam harnessed by the Five Ancient Heroes. Clotted Cream Cookie: But what if this Soul Jam could be divided and shared by all? Imagine the possibilities! Clotted Cream Cookie: Yes, it will be no easy feat to perform such a procedure here. But it could be done with the help of the Crème Republic’s technological advancements! Clotted Cream Cookie: So I ask forthright. Will you share your Soul Jam for the greater good? Pure Vanilla Cookie: I beg your pardon? Hollyberry Cookie: What?! You want the Soul Jam?! Dark Cacao Cookie: Are you out of your mind?!

Hollyberry Cookie: Do you even realize what you’re asking for? Hollyberry Cookie: Wars started because of Soul Jam! This is insanity! Dark Cacao Cookie: What a preposterous idea! Dark Cacao Cookie: To share our Soul Jam?! Impossible! Pure Vanilla Cookie: Clotted Cream Cookie. I trust this is not all that you have to say. Pure Vanilla Cookie: There must be another reason for your proposition, isn’t there? Clotted Cream Cookie: Venerable Heroes! Believe me, I understand completely how outlandish my proposition might sound. Clotted Cream Cookie: However, allow me to remind you that one of the main purposes for this council is to find means to guarantee the success of our endeavor. Clotted Cream Cookie: Just a fraction of your strength divided among our forces will dramatically increase the chances of our survival. Madeleine Cookie: Please forgive my interruption, Consul. Espresso Cookie and I have just returned from another expedition. Madeleine Cookie: We have witnessed the might of Dark Enchantress Cookie’s armies firsthand: hordes of monsters from other dimensions under her control! Madeleine Cookie: There are Cookies in dire need of our help all across the world! And we must do all in our power to provide aid! Madeleine Cookie: We have warriors fighting as we speak at the far frontiers of Earthbread. They need weapons, they need this strength! Hollyberry Cookie: Yes, yes, we understand! Of course, we must help everyone! But you are asking us to hand over our Soul Jam to you and your Republic! Why?

Espresso Cookie: Advanced equipment is required to analyze the Soul Jam. Espresso Cookie: Only the Crème Republic has such scientific capabilities. Pure Vanilla Cookie: And you need all three? Just one would be more than enough! Espresso Cookie: We believe that your Soul Jam has neither common properties, nor shows a common activation mechanism. Espresso Cookie: That is why it is crucial to have all available Soul Jam studied before we can distribute it among our forces. Dark Cacao Cookie: Madness! Hollyberry Cookie: Hmm… No, that won’t do. Clotted Cream Cookie: I am perfectly aware how difficult this decision might be. However… Clotted Cream Cookie: The shadow of war is hanging over us! Think of all the Cookies who we may lose to this war: think about our beautiful world we might lose. Would you not give everything to protect all that is dear to you…? Clotted Cream Cookie: Three Ancient Heroes harness the power of Soul Jam. But there are immeasurably more Cookies who risk losing their lives in the war to come! Clotted Cream Cookie: The enemy they will oppose is mighty and knows no mercy. What chance will they stand without the power of Soul Jam? Dark Cacao Cookie: I tire of listening to this nonsense. Dark Cacao Cookie: Enough is enough. Hollyberry Cookie: But you want to take our Soul Jam away for your “research”... Hollyberry Cookie: I’m afraid I can’t let that happen. Pure Vanilla Cookie: …My friends…! Clotted Cream Cookie: …To end the council on such a negative note…

Clotted Cream Cookie: It… was not entirely unexpected, but… I apologize to have caused such a quarrel. Pure Vanilla Cookie: This… isn't your fault. Pure Vanilla Cookie: What you propose… is understandable. Pure Vanilla Cookie: After my return, I refused to become king. All because I wanted to share with my fellow Cookies. Pure Vanilla Cookie: Because I wanted to use my power to create a better tomorrow for the generations to come, not just for a few. Pure Vanilla Cookie: But the power of Soul Jam comes at a cost. The terrible Dark Flour War started by Dark Enchantress Cookie in order to wrestle it from our hands serves as proof! Pure Vanilla Cookie: But it was we and we alone who fought in this war and witnessed its end… first hand. Pure Vanilla Cookie: I’m afraid Hollyberry Cookie and Dark Cacao Cookie will not be easy to convince. Clotted Cream Cookie: Then what of the other two Heroes? What of Golden Cheese Cookie and White Lily Cookie? Clotted Cream Cookie: I heard White Lily Cookie always appeared where and when she was needed the most. Clotted Cream Cookie: Perhaps, she may be able to provide a solution? Pure Vanilla Cookie: White Lily Cookie… will not come this time. Pure Vanilla Cookie: Some way to change my friends’ minds is… your only hope.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Lady Hollyberry Cookie? May we confer? Wildberry Cookie: What matter brings you here? Wildberry Cookie: The Queen Mother doesn’t wish to receive visitors today. Leave or you will be forced to leave. Hollyberry Cookie: Clotted Cream Cookie? Hollyberry Cookie: You want to talk? Go ahead then, speak! Clotted Cream Cookie: I apologize for my words at the council session. I admit, I was overly insistent. Hollyberry Cookie: Oh! Well. At times, words can be sharper than blades. Opinions sturdier than shields. But that’s the nature of conversation. Hollyberry Cookie: However, we cannot agree to your proposition. Hollyberry Cookie: Soul Jam is but a small trinket… But this small trinket caused great suffering in the past. Hollyberry Cookie: My family and I felt that in our very dough. Crumbles like that are not easily forgotten. Hollyberry Cookie: That is why we swore to keep our Soul Jam safe and secure. We simply cannot allow another tragedy to happen. Hollyberry Cookie: Do you understand? Clotted Cream Cookie: Thank you for sharing this with me. Perhaps, there is no other option for me but to think again. Hollyberry Cookie: I’m glad you see it that way! Next time, let’s have some juice together, eh?

Crunchy Chip Cookie: You… It’s you! Clotted Cream Cookie: I have come to speak to King Dark Cacao Cookie. Crunchy Chip Cookie: You dare come here having insulted His Majesty?! Dark Cacao Cookie: I have no time to hear any more of your pathetic excuses. Dark Cacao Cookie: I knew from the moment you pried about my sword you didn’t deserve even a pinch of my trust. And now you have revealed your true nature: conniving, hungry for power…! Dark Cacao Cookie: I know your deceitful kind oh so well! Dark Cacao Cookie: For you are not the first… Clotted Cream Cookie: Please, believe me. Our future is my only concern! After the research is complete, we would have returned the Soul Jam to its rightful owners. Dark Cacao Cookie: Lies! I can see your covetous motives right through those sweet words of yours. Dark Cacao Cookie: Out of my sight! Leave now or my soldiers will make sure no more Cookies suffer from your treachery! Clotted Cream Cookie: …Of course. I hope to see you at the council session tomorrow.

Madeleine Cookie: Ah, great deeds are never easy! Look at my blade! Doesn’t it look tarnished? Time to give it a good polish! Madeleine Cookie: Ha ha! That’s more like it! Indeed, my stunning reflection fills me with confidence! That’s right: the world hasn’t seen another Knight Commander like me! Financier Cookie: Ser Madeleine Cookie. Madeleine Cookie: Ah! Financier Cookie! How long have you been here? Madeleine Cookie: Do forgive me, for my Commander duties never cease to make me lose track of time! Financier Cookie: Hm, “self-admiration” was not part of our curriculum at the Academy… Financier Cookie: Naturally, a renowned Paladin such as yourself must be an example to all. Madeleine Cookie: Hm! Financier Cookie: For our sole mission is to spread the warmth of the Celestial Light to every corner of our world. Madeleine Cookie: Yes, yes! Financier Cookie: Become absorbed in petty everyday matters we must not. Instead, we work hard for the greater good of all Cookies… Financier Cookie: That is what I have been taught. Madeleine Cookie: Words of gold! Those serving an example to all must be perfect in all aspects! Don’t you agree? Financier Cookie: I must have misunderstood you, Ser Madeleine Cookie… Madeleine Cookie: Keeping my light always brilliant and bright is yet another mission of mine! Financier Cookie: Do forgive me, Ser Madeleine Cookie. Financier Cookie: May your strength never fails you, great Paladin. I shall leave you to your daily training. Madeleine Cookie: Ah! Speaking of which! Would you like to spar with me, Ser Financier Cookie?

Clotted Cream Cookie: Ah, GingerBrave! Greetings! Clotted Cream Cookie: What did you think of today’s session? GingerBrave: Clotted Cream Cookie! What you said today… GingerBrave: I could never have imagined you’d ask the Heroes to share their Soul Jam! Clotted Cream Cookie: I believe it is the hard choice we must make for the good of all. Clotted Cream Cookie: You fought against Dark Enchantress Cookie. What do YOU think? Will our forces be enough? GingerBrave: Dark Enchantress Cookie is very dangerous! She has giant Cake Monsters the size of a castle on her side, monsters hungry for Cookie crumbs! GingerBrave: Listen, I was thinking… GingerBrave: If only I were just A LITTLE stronger, just THIS MUCH! I could protect all my friends against Dark Enchantress Cookie…! GingerBrave: Together, we managed to defeat her back then… But if I was stronger, it wouldn’t have been that hard! GingerBrave: I think I understand what you wanted to say at the council! GingerBrave: But the war began because of Soul Jam! We have the Heroes back thanks to Soul Jam! They… won’t give it away so easily. Clotted Cream Cookie: Dark Enchantress Cookie’s return… You were there when she was resurrected, were you not? Clotted Cream Cookie: Can you elaborate on what transpired? GingerBrave: Oh… That… Well…

GingerBrave: Something happened… You know… Clotted Cream Cookie: What…? White Lily Cookie is… Dark Enchantress Cookie? Clotted Cream Cookie: I… I cannot believe it! GingerBrave: I know! We were shocked to find out! Clotted Cream Cookie: Does that mean… White Lily Cookie is no more? GingerBrave: That’s the thing… I can’t quite wrap my head around that myself! I saw Dark Enchantress with my own eyes but… White Lily Cookie’s spirit might still be out there somewhere! GingerBrave: I hope… Clotted Cream Cookie: What you have just told me… Clotted Cream Cookie: …is tragic, to say the least. Clotted Cream Cookie: …You have my gratitude, GingerBrave. I have learned an important truth, thanks to you.

Villager Cookie 3: Everyone is looking so blue! Villager Cookie 2: They were fine before the Council, that’s for sure! Villager Cookie 3: Hollyberry Cookie seems so gloomy! I-I’m too scared to ask her what happened… Villager Cookie 1: Even Pure Vanilla Cookie looks troubled… Villager Cookie 4: Something bad must’ve happened at that Council! Cookies: Hmmmmm… Villager Cookie 5: What should we do? Villager Cookie 5: I wish we could help everyone… But there’s only so much we can do. Villager Cookie 5: Let’s just keep doing our part! Villager Cookie 4: Our part? What’s that? Villager Cookie 3: I’ll prepare a nice hot meal! Villager Cookie 2: And I’ll make sure our inn looks neat and tidy! Villager Cookie 5: Right! Let’s do all we can to help the grown-ups focus on the Council! Villager Cookie 1: Oh! Why don’t we plant some flowers in the plaza? Everyone’s gonna like it! Villager Cookie 4: G-great idea…! Let’s do everything to make smile again…! Cookies: Yeah!

Black Raisin Cookie: I sense tension hanging in the air… Black Raisin Cookie: Both Pure Vanilla Cookie and Hollyberry Cookie… seem so troubled. Black Raisin Cookie: Will this Council end well? Oh, I feel so useless! GingerBrave: Black Raisin Cookie! What are you doing here? Black Raisin Cookie: Ah, GingerBrave! GingerBrave: Huh! Whoah! These are Candy Flowers that grow in our kingdom! Black Raisin Cookie: Hm? Candy Flowers? GingerBrave: Yeah! And they weren’t here just yesterday! Oooh, so nice and smooth! Black Raisin Cookie: (I was so absorbed in my thoughts I didn't even notice them…) GingerBrave: Look, I found a raisin! Why is there a raisin on the ground? Were they going to plant it too?! Black Raisin Cookie: …! The villagers…! Black Raisin Cookie: (Oh… Even the kids are trying to do their best to help! I must pull myself together!) Black Raisin Cookie: (GingerBrave, you have a talent for finding hope in the most unexpected places!) Black Raisin Cookie: Thank you, friend! GingerBrave: Huh? What for?! Black Raisin Cookie: Ha ha, for everything! Black Raisin Cookie: Time for my daily patrol. Care to join me?

Financier Cookie: Consul. Financier Cookie: An envoy from Elder Oyster Cookie is awaiting your audience. Clotted Cream Cookie: From the Republic? What is going on? Financier Cookie: The envoy is waiting inside.

Oyster Cookie’s Envoy: Pleased to meet you, Consul Clotted Cream Cookie. Oyster Cookie’s Envoy: Elder Oyster Cookie extends her best regards. Clotted Cream Cookie: Greetings! You have come a long way. To what do I owe the honor…? Oyster Cookie’s Envoy: Oyster Cookie expresses great interest in your progress. Clotted Cream Cookie: Tell the Elder that I have met the Paladin and the scientist. All goes according to the plan. Clotted Cream Cookie: Besides, I have managed to acquire a valuable piece of information. The situation is developing in our favor. Oyster Cookie’s Envoy: That is wonderful news! Oyster Cookie’s Envoy: Many eyes in the Republic are watching you most eagerly. Did you know? Oyster Cookie’s Envoy: Now, please excuse me. I have fulfilled my duty here. Clotted Cream Cookie: What an exhausting day. But… Clotted Cream Cookie: My work here will become the Republic’s greatest achievement! They will see.

#oyster cookie #financier cookie #Black Raisin Cookie #Gingerbrave #Pure Vanilla Cookie #hollyberry cookie #dark cacao cookie #wildberry cookie #crunchy chip cookie #cookie run kingdom #cr dialogue #clotted cream cookie #espresso cookie #strawberry crepe cookie #madeleine cookie #crk

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coffeepoweredlesbian · 2 years

Text

nate jacobs and agent smith are the same person and I WILL elaborate

okay so you know euphoria? yeah. I’m still a “Nate is into women but is some shade of trans himself and that’s why he’s obsessed with jules” truther. The matrix is also one of my absolute favorite movie series and I have devoted a significant part of my brain to thinking about agent smith ESPECIALLY after the cool new info that resurrections gave us. anyway it’s time to connect my brainworms together in an unholy fusion and subject my mutuals to it.

In both pieces of media, the gender nonconformity/transness of the antagonistic character (Agent smith or Nate) causes distress for them. Agent smith despises his body and wants to be free, but despises his route to freedom (sound familiar?) Nate despises…everything? mostly the way he can’t live up to the expectations of masculinity on him, since he will always be weaker than his father (re. s1ep8). But instead of recognizing that the real villain is the binary cisnormative world that makes them feel distress, the characters channel their fury at not being able to be free onto the visibly/defiantly transgender character. Which results in an obsession that forces the antagonistic character to try and stamp out the transness of their counterpart in the hopes that their own transness will also be stamped out.

Nate hates jules because she represents what he could be. She’s unabashedly, openly trans with a future, with friends who support her, with a father that supports her. I maintain that he doesn’t want her, not in that way (or if he does, it’s secondary to his desire to BE her). But if he allows himself to do that, he becomes Weak. He becomes someone who his father can victimize. Nate learned from a very young age that to be feminine was to be hurt. He saw his father hurt so many feminine people. And when Nate things of jules in s2ep7, he doesn’t see himself with jules, but AS jules. living her life. being abused like she was abused. and he hates her. hates that she’s able to live openly as a trans girl when he has to box himself into increasingly rigid gender roles.

Agent smith is..a bit more complicated since Matrix is already shrouded in layers of allegory. Smith is the representation of internalized transphobia. He hates the world he’s forced to inhabit, he hates his body, and even more than that he hats people that step out of line. He insists that there is no future for neo unless neo accepts himself as cis (as Thomas Anderson), that neo’s identity as being outside the matrix (literally represented as a system failure between M and F in the final credits of the first film) is aberrant. And when neo sets smith free of his body? Smith hates neo even more. Because neo has just given smith the ability to transition, to escape the form he hated for so long. But with that escape comes confusion and fear and smith defaults on his hatred of anomalies. Maybe if he eliminates every anomaly, the only one that will be left is him.

like could it be sexual attraction? yeah probably. it’s not hard to see the subtext between smith and neo’s interactions in Ressurections but it’s so much More than that. because when the antagonistic character feels the pressure of the outside world on them, forcing them to perform a role they hate (for Nate it’s the toxic masculinity associated with heterosexuality and for smith it’s working as an agent for the machines) they don’t blame the system, they blame the people that defy the system. because if those people didn’t exist then maybe the antagonistic character wouldn’t be able to have hope that maybe things could be different for them.

It’s all about hope, really. because if there’s no hope then they can continue hating their life. but if there IS a way out, then they hate themselves for not taking it. so they have to eliminate the anomaly and hope that maybe they will become normal again.

Reminds me of that one song by slipknot: if I can change I hope I never know

#the matrix #the matrix ressurections #agent smith #neo #neotrin #euphoria #nate jacobs #jules vaughn #the matrix analysis #euphoria analysis #euphoria meta #the matrix meta #I subjected my girlfriend to this analysis and I will subject yall to it as well

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the-delta-42 · 3 years

Text

Foundation

Optimus had just finished explaining the status of the Forge of Solus Prime, when a jet that looked like some stealth bomber landed outside. Everyone gathered at the doors, while Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Prowl approached the bomber. As its parts suddenly shift, a bot slightly shorter than Ultra Magnus stood before the Autobots.

“Blaster?” Asked Prowl, frowning, “I take it you followed the energy surge as well?”

“Nope, we just woke up from Stasis,” Said Blaster, his battle mask retracting, “Some humans saw us, Warpath is currently leading efforts in awakening the rest of the crew.

“And the crew are?” Ultra Magnus spoke, raising an eyebrow.

“Myself, Warpath, Jetfire, Afterburner, a few others and Commander Elita One.” Said Blaster, grinning, “I promised to return to them, I think the Humans said it was called something like Griffin Rock.”

Everyone was stunned, “Funny enough,” said Heatwave, approaching Blaster, “My team and I need to get back there too.”

“Prime!” Called Fowler, bursting out of his office, “Turn on the news.”

Optimus frowned, before looking at Blaster, “Can you tap into their broadcasting services?”

Blaster nodded, before his Autobot symbol lit up and started projecting the news, which featured Megatron.

“Your leaders have lied to you, kept our presence secret,” Said Megatron, his face curled into a snarl, “but know this, this planet and everything on it, now belongs to Megatron! The Lord and Commander of the Decepticons! We have already laid waste to Jasper, Nevada and Griffin Rock, Maine for harbouring Autobot Rebels and we will do the same to any city, state, country or continent that continues to do so. As an example of such an incident,” Megatron gestured behind him, when Starscream dragged another Cybertronian forward, Optimus recognised Bluestreak on sight, “has been found in China. Optimus, if you’re watching, know that I don’t have to do this, I just want to.” Megatron levelled his fusion cannon with Bluestreak’s head and fired a single shot into it. Everyone flinched as Bluestreak’s head exploded, while Megatron just grinned sadistically, “Let that serve as a warning to all those who think they can stand against me.”

“Well,” Said Smokescreen, after a moment, “I guess the secrets out.”

“The top brass is trying to mask it as a hoax.” Said Fowler, before Optimus spoke.

“Tell them not to bother,” Said Optimus, his gaze on Megatron’s frozen face, “There will be those who will investigate such claims and, if Megatron feels that his warning has not been heeded, it may provoke a greater attack that could lead to the mass loss of lives.”

“But that would mean your cover has been blown.” Said Jack, from his place next to Arcee’s leg.

“Perhaps, but we cannot allow humanity to live in the dark while our war damages your world, Jack.” Said Optimus, looking down at the human, before turning to Ultra Magnus, “Commander, take as many transports as you can and collect the residents of Griffin Rock, I will contact High Tide, Salvage and Blurr and have then render assistance in any possible way they can.”

“Wait, there are more Autobots on Earth?” Asked Arcee, frowning.

“Salvage and Blurr are from before the war,” Said Optimus, looking at the motorcycle, “High Tide is a Titan Master.”

“A what?” Asked Miko, from Bulkhead’s shoulder.

“A Titan Master,” Said Bulkhead, “basically it’s a Cybertronian with three modes, Bots, vehicle and head. The head combines with a larger transforming frame and forms a Bot so big that it would put our old base to shame.”

“Almost all the Titan Masters were killed in the War for Cybertron, kid,” Said Wheeljack, “we all thought Fortress Maximus was the last one.”

“Until High Tide, apparently.” Remarked Arcee, before noticing the looks on Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet’s faces, “Wait, what’s with the look?”

“High Tide knew Optimus, before he was Optimus.” Said Ratchet, shifting slightly.

Optimus coughed, “While there is much to discuss, you all have your missions and it is imperative that we get to the humans, and Autobots, before Megatron detects them.”

Almost immediately everyone jumped into action, with most of Team Prime going with Ultra Magnus. The Rescue Bots went to follow, before Optimus, addressed Boulder.

“Boulder, if you have a moment.” Said Optimus, making the bulldozer stop.

“Yes, sir.” Said Boulder, facing Optimus.

“High Tide is working on building a city for Autobots and Humans in Oregon,” Said Optimus, looking down at Boulder, “I want you and Graham to aid him in the contruction. I intend of having the refugees from both Griffin Rock and Jasper moved there as soon as it is habitable.”

“Yes, Sir.” Boulder Saluted Optimus and raced off after his team.

Optimus made his way over to the Iron Will, boarding it and accessing the comm system, “Quickshadow, come in.”

The screen flickered into life, revealing a femme with a slight smirk on her face, “Optimus, it’s certainly been a while.”

“I need you to head to Griffin Rock and rendezvous with the Autobot forces heading there.” Said Optimus, making Quickshadow’s smirk widen.

“Reclaiming it from the Decepticons?” Questioned the spy.

“No, we are evacuating the humans there,” Explained Optimus, “There is a family that I want you to protect, the Greenes.”

“Any particular way I can find them?” Asked Quickshadow, frowning.

“Speak with Prowl, he will guide you to them.” Said Optimus, his tone serious, “Good luck, Soldier.”

Optimus cut the transmission and departed the ship.

Quickshadow internally grumbled, the salt from he under water walk was causing havoc for her axels. She pulled to a stop at a red light, only for a massive convoy of assorted vehicles to drive past. Quickshadow spotted the Autobot crest on the side of a blue semi, before running the red light and sidling up to Ultra Magnus, “Commander.”

“Quickshadow,” Said Ultra Magnus, not bothering with a greeting, “I see that Optimus wasted no time in contacting you.”

“Ooh, so harsh,” Flirted Quickshadow, “I do love a mech in uniform and I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

Ultra Magnus suddenly swerved, as Quickshadow cackled.

“We agreed to never speak of the night, Soldier.” Reprimanded Ultra Magnus, not noticing Arcee pulling up between them.

“Now you’ve got me interested.” Said Arcee, alerting them to her presence.

“That is none of your concern.” Snapped Ultra Magnus, speeding up.

“He does know that we can out pace him, right?” Asked Quickshadow, as Prowl passed her.

“He does, he just doesn’t like anyone.” Said Prowl, before turning his sirens on and speeding past them. Chase and Heatwave followed suit and took off after Prowl.

“Ooh, the good boy are bad boys.” Snarked Quickshadow, as Boulder crept past her.

“No, we just have family where we’re going.” Said Boulder, sounded exhausted, “I really need to re-scan.”

“Speed isn’t everything, Boulder.” Said Arcee, turning her attention to the bulldozer, “Just ask Blades.”

“I can hear you; you know.” Complained the helicopter, as Bumblebee shot past the femmes, “Okay, that’s not cool!”

Blades sped up, while Blaster flew above them, “You three do know that you’ve been slowing down for the past twenty nano-cycles, right?”

Arcee suddenly became aware of Bulkhead passing her, “Thanks Arcee, I’ll be enjoying that energon.” Arcee shot off, “Ah, scrap.”

“Hey, Bulk,” Said Wheeljack, keeping pace with his fellow Wrecker and ignoring Smokescreen shoot past, “What’s Miko got going on with that human Prime kid?”

“What, Jack?” Asked Bulkhead, keeping pace with Boulder, “They’re just friends the last I heard. Why?”

“The Doc was grumbling about something called ‘kahoo ties’, said he heard it from Raf after Jack smashed his face into Miko’s.” Responded Wheeljack, laughing as Bulkhead suddenly fell behind.

“Jack kissed Miko?” Screeched Bulkhead, catching back up with Wheeljack.

“So that’s what it’s called.” Said Wheeljack, as Quickshadow suddenly stopped. The two Wrecker transformed and skidded to a halt, “What’s the hold up?”

“No road.” Said Quickshadow, frowning, “Where’d the Rescue Bots go?”

Bulkhead spotted a human walking towards them, he was wearing a suit like Fowler’s, but he was wearing glasses and looked like he was in a bad mood, “The ships are still an hour out, apparently getting a few ferries is beyond the abilities of the US Navy.”

“I’m sure they can wait a little longer,” Said Wheeljack, crossing his arms, “Blaster didn’t say they were in trouble.”

The agent shook his head and walked away, leaving the Autobots nonchalantly standing waiting for the ships. Once the ships arrived, the Autobots and transports boarded and continued their journey to Griffin Rock Sanctuary.

“They should be in here,” Said Blaster, as he led the humans to the cave, “Unless they’ve all gone into the Axalon.”

A large white Cybertronian stepped out and paused when he saw the Humans, “Warpath, it looks like more humans have arrived!”

“They’re here to evacuate the Island, Jetfire.” Said Blaster, as Warpath, adorned with small, giggling children, came out.

“About time, too.” Grumbled Warpath, as Prowl brushed past him.

“Cody?” Called Prowl, looking around for his charge.

“Over here.” Said Cody, covered in dirt, “We tried excavating the ship.”

“Turns out too much of it buckled when we landed.” Said Afterburner, ripping a piece of metal out of the rock, “It’s a minor miracle that no one was killed.”

“We’ve come to collect everyone,” Said Prowl, kneeling in front of Cody, “The Islanders are going to be put in with the Jasper evacuees, at least until we finish fixing the damage.”

Cody gave a small smile, as the people were led out by the military, each of the Burnses were reunited with their partners, Frankie and her family being placed with an Autobot called Quickshadow. Before long, everyone was on a ship taking them to refuge area that housed other people that had their homes taken by the Decepticons.

“The secrets out.” Said Prowl, standing next to Cody, as the ship rocked, “Humanity as a whole now know that we exist and, subsequently, are demanding to hear from Optimus Prime.”

“What happens now?” Asked Cody, as Quickshadow walked over to him and Prowl, Frankie not far behind.

“Optimus has plans for a joint Human-Autobot community,” Said Prowl, frowning, “he had hoped Griffin Rock would be that community, but obviously that didn’t pan out.”

“In a way,” Said Frankie, stopping next to Cody, “It did, the Autobots that we found in the Sanctuary were able to get help from Humans and vice-versa.”

“Even the mayor warmed up to them.” Laughed Cody, remembering how Kup and thrown a ‘cy-gar’ at the mayor.

“I think that was because he was scared of what Kup would do to him.” Said Frankie, as Jetfire, Afterburner and Blaster flew above them, performing arial displays to keep them entertained.

“Boulder and his human have already started designing the architecture for the community.” Said Quickshadow, as the silence lapsed, “I believe they plan on calling it ‘Autobot City’.”

“Let me guess, they’re going to have Metroplex act as the base for it?” Was Prowl’s sarcastic response.

“I didn’t ask.” Said Quickshadow, “But, it would provide homes for everyone that was affected by Decepticon attacks, past, current and future.”

“Your family could be the responders for that city too.” Said Frankie, giving Cody a nudge.

“I can’t wait to hear what Raf thinks of this.” Smiled Cody, as the ships made it to port.

“You’re going to be seeing him soon,” Said Prowl, transforming, “so, you don’t have to wait long.”

“Can I go with them?” Asked Frankie, looking up at Quickshadow.

Quickshadow shrugged, “It’s Prowl, so you’ll be safe.”

Frankie grinned and climbed into the seat next to Cody, “This is so cool.”

“I believe you’ll get along with Miko.” Said Prowl, driving off the ship.

“This is amazing, Boulder.” Said Graham, looking over the schematics of the City Optimus was building.

“Yeah, Optimus already has Blurr and Salvage helping High Tide with its construction, with the added Bot power coming their way, the City itself should be finished in the next couple of years, especially once Fortress Maximus makes his way over from China.”

“Who?” Asked Graham, confused.

“Sorry,” Apologised Boulder, “Fortress Maximus is like High Tide, except he transforms into a city. He’s one of few Titans left after the War for Cybertron.”

Graham frowned, “How many of the Titans are left?”

“Not including Trypticon, jut Fortress Maximus and High Tide,” Said Boulder, carefully watching the road, “Metroplex sacrificed his spark getting the Ark off of Cybertron and any of the other that left Cybertron are likely to have gone offline from energon depletion.”

“So, Fortress Maximus and High Tide are the last of their kind?” Asked Graham, as Boulder slowed a little.

Boulder’s silence spoke volumes.

Miko sat and spoke with her host parents, as the trucks began to drive into the City that Optimus was having built.

“Whoa,” Gasped her host mother, “it’s massive.”

“Probably so the Autobots can fit inside the buildings.” Dismissed Miko, before spotting a group of Autobots scanning vehicles. A red one with two giant cannons on his arms scanned a GMC Topkick, while one the size of Bulkhead scanned a 4X4, “Ooh, there are Brawn and Ironhide.”

Her host parents looked over and saw the pair of Autobots transform into their alts and join the procession going into the City. The truck they were in came to a halt.

“Alright, kids,” Said Hound, getting their attention, “You have reached your destination, thank you for choosing Autobot Bus service as your method of travel.” Then, without warning, Hound Transformed and looked over the city, “Eh, could use a few drinking places.”

Miko laughed, before spotting a blond-haired boy the same age as Raf.

“Cody!” Yelled Miko, running towards him.

Hound watched Miko run off, when Ironhide threw a pipe at him, “Give us a hand with this, ya ungrateful slacker.”

“Why? Fortress Maximus is going to be here soon.” Muttered Hound, recoiling at Ironhide’s glare.

“I heard that.” Grumbled Ironhide, as he stomped away.

“What crawled up his aft and died?” Asked Hound, looking at Brawn.

“I don’t know, ask Kup.” Grunted Brawn, lifting a piece of metal and walking off with it.

“Is he here yet?” Asked Cody, climbing on top of the wall.

“Fortress Maximus is still an hour out,” Said Prowl, picking Cody up and placing him on his shoulder, “Don’t worry, you’re not going to miss his arrival.”

“It’s a shame that Frankie couldn’t be here for this.” Said Cody, getting comfortable on Prowl.

“He’s early.” Said Blades, suddenly.

Cody and Prowl watched at a fortress on wheels slowly moved towards the City.

“You see that links?” Asked Prowl, pointing to crevices in the city, “That’s where he’s going to be, he’ll serve as our new base of operations and ‘council building’.”

“Noble.” Gasped Cody in awe.

The crowd of Humans and Autobots watched as the fortress guided itself into the holes and locked itself into place. The fortress started transforming, before settling on a series of skyscrapers that where all fused together with the Autobot crest proudly emblazoned on the side.

“Fortress Maximus is online.” Boomed a deep, robotic voice.

A panel dropped down, revealing a group of Autobots, a silver one taking a single step forwards and falling to the ground. There were some screams as his head rolled off. A foul looking Autobot glared at the head, before a smaller bot ran forwards, picked up the head and yelled, “Head lob!”

As if by magic, the headless Autobot jumped up and started chasing the smaller bot.

“I want to feel sorry for Cogman, but seriously, he shouldn’t do that in front of Glyph.” Said Prowl, shaking his head.

“How’s he able to do that?” Asked Cody, looking at his guardian.

“They’re headmasters,” Explained Prowl, “You know High Tide is a Titan Master? A Headmaster is more or less the same thing, except its small robot and head, no extra mode.”

Cody grinned, Ratchet had joined in the chase, no doubt trying to get a tool back from a Mini-Con, “Do you think Bumblebee and his team will join in the celebrations tonight?”

Prowl looked at the fifteen-year-old, “I’m sure they’re already getting ready for it.”

Cody grinned, gripping tightly as Prowl started walking.

Frankie grinned at the sight of the finished Autobot City, a large number to Autobots were already there, most likely the crew of the Axalon, along with Team Prime and the Wreckers. Everywhere was built for Humans and Cybertronians, schools, hospitals, even police stations. Some of the Autobots had left Earth after defeating Megatron, restoring the core of Cybertron and starting to rebuild the formerly dead world.

The Rescue Bots, the crew of the Axalon and some members of Team Prime had opted to remain on Earth. Frankie jumped out of Quickshadow, running inside the new Firehouse, giving a quick greeting to the Rescue Bots, and running to the Command Centre.

Quickshadow waited for Doctor Greene, his wife and youngest daughter to get out before transforming. The spy smirked, “I must say, it’s really shaped up around here.”

“Nice to see you too, Quickshadow.” Said Prowl, nodding at her and going back to his work.

Quickshadow started chuckling, before a loud klaxon sounded throughout the City. Prowl froze, before swearing and yelling, “Autobots, Mobilise! Get all the Humans to the safe zones, The Decepticons are attacking!”

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spn-mediabigbang · 4 years

Text

Title: Not Natural

Author: tfw_cas ( @punk-is-notdead )

Artist: @anyreiart

Betas: mugglerock

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jo/Hannah

Rating: E

Word Count: 38,206

Genre: Action/Comedy/Romance

Source Material: Galaxy Quest

Summary: As the star of the fantasy show Not Natural, Dean Winchester used to be a big name; at least he was before the show was cancelled after season five. Now he and the rest of the cast spend much of their time at conventions, reliving the glory days, and trying not to fall out with each other… or is it just Dean they don’t get along with?

When the fantasy world of the show suddenly comes crashing into their real lives, they’re required to help a group of angels who believe that the show is real, and that Dean and the crew are actually hunters. As their mission becomes increasingly dangerous, the cast must band together as they once pretended to do on the show, to stop Loki’s determination to destroy Heaven. This is particularly important to Dean, as his affection continues to blossom for Castiel, the angels’ enigmatic (and extremely attractive) leader.

Preview: She either didn’t hear him, or was set on ignoring him. She dodged past a group of men and women all dressed in the show’s classic angel garb of grey suits and white shirts, whose presence Dean completely failed to notice until they stopped him in his tracks. Goddamit.

Dean tried to skip past them, but the guy in front stepped right in front of him, blocking his way pretty effectively. Unlike his companions, he was wearing an ill-fitting trench coat over his suit, and his blue tie was slightly twisted. Dean took in the rest of his appearance, noting that he had the kind of wind-blown hair that Dean would like to run his fingers through, gorgeous pink lips, and the most startling blue eyes he had ever seen. “Dean,” he started, in a rich, gravelly voice, that was so deep it felt almost otherworldly.

Despite the attractiveness of the guy, Dean didn’t really have time for this, and he gave the man a firm, “Excuse me,“ before sidestepping him.

The guy wasn’t easily deterred, it seemed, and he tried again, “I must speak to you. It is a matter of supreme importance. We are angels, come down from Heaven, and we need your help.”

Realizing these must be the people who had booked him for tomorrow, Dean made a hand gesture indicating for him to lower his voice. “Whoa, whoa, is this about the gig tomorrow? Hammer out the details with my agent, and make sure there’s a limo at my house.”

Dean couldn’t say why he did it, but he took hold of the lead ‘angel’s’ tie and straightened it. The guy said nothing, but he tilted his head and squinted his eyes at him. He’s fucking hot, but they’re a real strange bunch, he thought, glancing at the others, who stared back at him blankly. A limo is the least I deserve.

“Last time I did one of these gigs, they shoved me in the back of a Toyota,” Dean continued, giving the ‘angel’ a searching look.

“Certainly, but-” he tried once more.

“And remember: mum’s the word,” Dean interrupted. Adding a “Shh, okay?” With a finger to his lips, he left to find Jo. He did not need these nerds talking to Sammy and the others, and pissing them off again.

He could hear them all repeating the word, ‘mum,’ as if it was some kind of sacred word, as he walked away. It was lucky they were paying him, because… wow! Weird didn’t quite cover it.

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Comedy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Based On Galaxy Quest, Angels, This Isn’t The Loki From Marvel Or Supernatural, This Is The Real Loki, And He’s Pissed, Dean Is In Over His Head, Sam Has One Job, Crowley Is Done, Bobby Is A Cool Customer, Jo Is Angry, Ash Is Scared, Angel!Castiel, Actor!Dean, Actor!Sam, Everyone Is An Actor, Except The Angels, Who Are Clueless, Ghostfacers, Conventions, Nerds Save The Day, Kissing, Smut, Galaxy Quest Has No Smut, But I Made It Smutty Anyway, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, The Book of the Damned, The Samulet, Hands Of God, Werepire, Creepy Galaxy Quest Creatures, Minor Character Death, SPN Media Big Bang 2020

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#submission #author: tfw_cas #artist: anyrei #destiel #spn mbb #fanfic #fanart

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bebraveridethedragon · 4 years

Text

I’ve Got No Fucking Clue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings: There are no warnings for this chapter.

Chapter 3

All of the Avengers, plus Thor although he might be considered an Avenger now, were standing in a room with a monitor in it. They watched as Fury threatened Loki.

“In case it's unclear. You try to escape. You so much as scratch that glass.” Fury pressed a button that opened up the space beneath Loki’s glass cage.

“Thirty thousand feet, straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?!” Fury asked. “Ant,” Fury points at Loki, “boot.” He points at the button.

“It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me.” Loki smirks.

“Built for things a lot stronger than you.” Fury says.

“Oh trust me I know.” Loki’s smirk turns towards the camera. In the observation room Douxie and Bruce tense up. Archie starts growling at the screen, at Loki or Fury, Douxie doesn’t know.

“The mindless beast and the last master wizard on Midgard. How desperate are you, that you call upon such lost beasts to defend you?” Loki asks, no longer looking at the camera.

“How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill ‘cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.” Fury responds.

“Ooh. It burns you to come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what real power is. You would’ve come closer to power if you had used the wizard, his magic is extremely powerful.” Loki taunts.

“We thought about it once, I’m glad we didn’t, he’s a good kid. Let me know if Real Power wants a magazine.” With that Fury walks out of the room.

“Not a kid.” Douxie mumbles as the screen turns black.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Bruce asked sarcastically.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Archie answers with even more sarcasm.

“Shit! I forgot you could talk.” Tony startles.

“Loki’s gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what’s his play?” Steve asked.

“He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not of Asgard or any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.” Thor uncrosses his arms.

“An army? From outer space?” Steve looks incredulous.

“Wouldn’t be the first one I’ve seen, although the last one was fighting for us not against us.” Douxie says.

“Ignoring what Douxie said for a minute, this means Loki’s building another portal. That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.” Bruce says.

“Selvig?” Thor asks.

“He’s an astrophysicist.” Bruce answers.

“He’s a friend.” And oh, Thor must’ve met him when he came to Earth a few years ago.

“Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours.” Nat says, she gets a regretful look on her face. The only ones who notices are Douxie and Archie.

“I want to know why Loki let us take him. He’s not leading an army from here.” Steve says.

“I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats, you could smell crazy on him.” Bruce says.

“Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother.” Thor says.

“He’s killed eighty people in two days.” Nat points out.

“He’s adopted.” Thor defends. Douxie gives out a little snort that cause Nat to look at him. She gives him a soft smile before looking away again.

“Iridium, what did they need the iridium for?” Bruce asks.

“It’s a stabilizing agent,” Tony says walking in, he turns to Coulson, “I’ll fly you there. Keep the love alive.” He turns back to everyone else, “Means the portal won’t collapse in on itself like it did at SHIELD.”

Tony turns to Thor, “No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing. Also, it means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants.”

Tony turns to the crew on the Helicarrier before speaking again, “Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails. That man is playing GALAGA! Thought we wouldn't notice. But we did.” Tony put a hand around one of his eyes and looks around.

“How does Fury do this?” Tony questions.

“He turns.” Maria Hill says causing Douxie to snort.

“Well, that sounds exhausting. The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick start the cube.” Tony waves his hands around.

“When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Maria asked.

“Last night. The packet, Selvig's notes, the Extraction Theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?” Tony asked.

“I read them, I understood most of it but some things were confusing.” Douxie said. Tony looked at him with approval.

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Steve asked.

“He's got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.” Bruce answered.

“Unless, Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.” Tony contradicts.

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet.” Douxie says.

Tony smirks, “Finally! People who speak English.”

“Is that what just happened?” Steve asks.

“Yes, although you probably don’t understand it because your old.” Tony says.

“I don’t think age has anything to do with it, I think it has to do with the fact that he was trapped in ice for 70 years.” Douxie says.

“You think an old man could keep up with what we just talked about?” Tony asks.

“I mean I did, and I’m the second oldest person in this room.”

“Your like 19, that’s not old.”

“I’ve been 19 for 900 years.”

“What?!” Multiple people shouted.

“Wizards can choose to stop aging at any time.” Everybody but Nat and Thor looked surprised at this.

“Holy shit that’s so cool.” Nat rolled her eyes at Tony’s antics, even if it was a bit cool.

“Can we get back on topic? We can question the wizard later.” Bruce says.

“Right, it’s good to meet you, Dr. Banner. You're work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.” Tony shakes Bruce’s hand.

Bruce looks uncomfortable while he mutters a thanks.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him.” Fury says walking in.

“Let's start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.” Steve says.

“I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys. That’ll be Hisirdoux’s job though.

Douxie nods, ignoring Tony’s snort of amusement when he heard his full name.

“Monkeys? I do not understand.” Thor says.

“I do! I understood that reference.” Steve exclaims. Tony rolls his eyes while Douxie claps his hands sarcastically.

“Shall we play doctor? Harry Potter your coming with us too.” Tony says before he grabs Douxie’s bicep and drags him out with Bruce following.

“Let’s play some.” Bruce says as they walk out.

“I can walk myself thank you.” Douxie says while taking his bicep out of Tony’s grip.

“I know, but we wouldn’t want the old man to throw out his hip while walking.” Tony smirks at him.

“I’m technically still 19, I’ve just stayed 19 for 900 years.” Douxie glared.

“Wait, so you’re physically 19 but mentally you’re 919?” Bruce asks.

“No, he’s physically and mentally 19. Even if he has acquired a lot of knowledge over the past 900 years he still has the maturity of a 19 year old.” Archie says.

“Excuse you, I am very mature.” Douxie tried to defend himself.

“Just last week you were arguing with Seamus and Claire about who had the coolest special magic.” Archie deadpanned.

“I was born with the ability to control fire and to see the future, that’s one more than either of them have by themselves.” Tony and Bruce looked confused as the wizard and familiar argued.

“Who’s Claire and Seamus?” This was Tony that asked.

“And what is special magic?” That was Bruce that asked.

“Claire and Seamus are my apprentices, they’re also like my little siblings. And special magic is magic that you have to be born with. Every wizard is born with regular magic, but there’s also certain magic that you have to be born with to do.

“There’s shadow magic, necromancy, elemental magic, healing magic, and future seeing magic. I was born with the ability to control fire and see the future. Claire can control shadows and even create portals with them. Seamus was born with healing magic.” Douxie said. They had arrived at the lab and were sitting down now.

“Wow, that’s kinda cool.” Tony says. He and Bruce start working on finding the Tesseract. Douxie walks over to the staff and holds his hands above it.

“This is weird.” Douxie states.

“What is?” Bruce asks.

“It doesn’t feel like magic, it feels more like raw energy.” Douxie looks confused. Bruce walks over with a scanner thing in his hands. He holds it out over the staff and moves it around. Tony hasn’t moved from where he’s solving equations.

“The gamma readings are definitely consistent with Selvig's reports on the Tesseract. But it's gonna take weeks to process.” Bruce says.

“If we bypass their mainframe and direct a reroute to the Homer cluster, we can clock this around six hundred teraflops.” Tony says.

“All I packed was a toothbrush.” Bruce states. Tony smiles at Bruce and Douxie.

“You two should come by Stark Tower some time. Top 10 floors, all R&D. You’d love it, and we could use magic to make the best inventions ever.” Tony says.

“If I come, I’m bringing a friend. He’s only 16 but he’s a genius when it comes to technology.” Douxie says.

“What’s his name?” Tony asks.

“Krel Tarron.” Douxie tells him.

“Hmm, I’ll have to look him up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Has he done something terrible.”

“He’s not from around here.”

“Is he an immigrant?”

“Kind of.”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to go, the last time I was in New York I kind of broke...Harlem.” Bruce says, ending their conversation.

“Well, I promise a stress free environment. No tension. No surprises.” Tony says right before he pokes Bruce with a mini electrical rod. Right then, Steve walked in, looking pissed.

Bruce yelps in shock when Tony zaps him. Tony looks at him closely.

“Nothing?” Tony asks.

“Hey! Are you nuts?” Steve exclaims.

“You’ve really got a lid on it, haven’t you? What’s your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?” Tony continued to question.

“Is everything a joke to you.” Steve asks Tony.

“Funny things are.” Tony deadpanned.

“Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny. No offense, doctor.” Steve says.

“No, it's alright. I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things.” Bruce says.

“You're tiptoeing, big man. You need to strut.” Tony tells Bruce.

“And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark.” Steve says annoyed.

“You think I'm not? Why did Fury call us and why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables.” Tony says.

“You think Fury’s hiding something.”

“He's a spy. Captain, he's the spy. His secrets have secrets. It's bugging them too, isn't it?” Tony points at Douxie and Bruce.

“Uh...I just wanna finish my work here and...” Stammers Bruce.

“Doctor? Douxie?” Steve asks.

“I’m kinda with Tony on this one, sorry Spangles. He knows everything about me but all I know about him is his name.” Douxie shrugs his shoulders. Steve looks disappointed.

“A warm light for all mankind, Loki's jab at Fury about the cube.” Bruce begins.

“I heard it.” Steve cuts him off.

Bruce points at Tony, “Well, I think that was meant for you. Even if Barton didn't post that all over the news.”

“The Stark Tower? That big ugly,” Tony gives Steve a look, “...building in New York?”

“It’s powered by Stark Reactors, self-sustaining energy source. That building will run itself for what, a year?” Bruce turns towards Tony.

“That's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now.” Tony says with pride.

“So, why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?” Douxie asks, catching onto the point Bruce was trying to make.

“I should probably look into that once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files.” Tony says to himself.

“I'm sorry, did you say...?” Steve asks.

“Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours we'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide. Blueberry?” Tony holds out the bag towards Douxie and Bruce. Both of them take a couple and Douxie hands some to Archie.

“Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around?” Steve says.

“An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not possible.” Tony retorts.

“I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them.” Steve, the good soldier he is, says.

“Following is not really my style.” Tony says.

“Not really mine either.” Douxie states.

“And you're all about style, aren't you?” Steve smiles condescendingly at Tony, completely ignoring Douxie.

“Of the people in this room, which one is; A. wearing a spangly outfit, and B. not of use?” Tony asks annoyed.

“Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?” Steve looks hesitant at Bruce’s question, but quickly shakes it off.

“Just find the cube.” Steve says before leaving.

“Well that was fun.” Douxie says sarcastically.

“That's the guy my dad never shut up about? Wondering if they shouldn't have kept him on ice.” Tony says.

“The guy's not wrong about Loki. He does have the jump on us.” Bruce points out.

“What he’s got us an ACME dynamite kit. It’s gonna blow up in his face, and I’m gonna be there when it does.” Tony says.

“And I’ll read all about it.” Bruce says back.

“Uh-huh. Or you’ll be suiting up like the rest of us.” Tony tells Bruce. Douxie’s starting to get bored of this conversation so he starts picking at his chipped nail polish.

“Ah, see. I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed, like a nerve. It's a nightmare.” Bruce mutters.

“You know, as awesome as this conversation is, I’m getting bored. So I’m going to go repaint my nails and call Claire.” Douxie sticks his tongue out and flashes devils horns before leaving. They wave at him as he leaves before starting their conversation again.

Douxie walks to Nat’s room. She’s just getting ready to leave when he walks in.

“Can I borrow your nail polish, I left mine at home.” Douxie asks. She nods and hands it to him before they both exit the room.

“Where’re you going?” Archie asks.

“To talk to Loki, see if I can get information out of him.” Nat replies. Douxie and Archie nod before they split paths with her.

Walking to his current room, Douxie sits down in the desk chair. He unscrews the bottle and starts to paint his nails. He also gets his phone out and calls Claire before putting it on speaker.

“Douxie! Finally, it’s been two days since you left. What happened to calling?” Claire asks as soon as she picks up.

“Sorry C-Bomb, it’s been a busy few days. We’ve captured the guy that stole the Tesseract but we still don’t know where it is.”

“Who stole it anyways?” Claire asked.

“Loki, Norse god of mischief. He plans to use it to make a portal and summon an army to take over Earth.” Douxie didn’t think he should be telling her this but he didn’t care.

“Shit, your not hurt are you?”

“No Claire, I’m fine. Although this team does not get along very well.”

“I’m fine too, thanks for asking.” Archie says.

“Oh! Sorry Archie I wasn’t aware I was on speaker.” Claire apologizes. Archie just chuckled.

“What are you doing right now?” Claire asks.

“I’m painting my nails, Archie’s trying to take a nap on my pillow I think. What are you doing.” Archie purred in response.

“Homework. Me, Jim, Krel, Seamus, Steve, and Toby are having a study session because we have a test tomorrow. They all say hi by the way.”

“Tell them I say hi too.”

“I did, Toby also needs an answer for his history homework and he can’t find it in his book.”

“What’s the question?”

“Hey Douxie!” Toby says over the phone.

“Hi Tobes, what’s you’re question?” Douxie smiles.

“How did the Black Death start? I can’t remember and I can’t find it in the book.”

“Have you tried googling it?”

“Yes! All it tells me is the number of deaths it caused.”

“Well, people think it was transmitted from rodents to humans by the bite of infected fleas.”

“Oh thanks! Your a life saver.”

“No problem Toby.” Douxie finished painting his last nail before using magic to dry them. He goes into the bathroom, taking his eyeliner pencil with him. He continues to talk to Claire for a few more minutes before they ended the call.

He looked into the mirror and sees bags under his eyes. He sighs before leaning forward and applying the eyeliner.

“How did you forget nail polish but remember eyeliner?” Nat asked. Douxie jumped, luckily not poking his eye or messing up his eyeliner.

“I’ve got no clue.” Douxie says before going back to his eyeliner.

“Hurry up we have a situation.” Nat says.

“What’s going on?” Douxie asks.

“Loki plans to unleash the hulk.”

“Fuzz buckets.” Douxie mutters. He quickly finishes his eyeliner before putting his pencil down and picking Archie up.

Archie yawns before going back to sleep in Douxie’s arms. Nat and Douxie walk out of his room and make their way to the lab.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

This fic is also on AO3 if you want to read it there.

I do not own anything other then the parts you don’t recognize.

#wizards #tales of arcadia #douxie #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #marvel #avengers #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #nick fury

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pictures-from-the-universe · 3 years

Text

There is another post....

I always ask myself why I'm so good in romantic things and where I got all these ideas from, but look at this guy, with his wife in one and his baby in the other hand and the sunglasses in her face, just smiling with a deadly cool ☠️🆒 smile, like:

The last, or better the post bevor the last, post ends with an foto of my parents kissing each other under a tree and this is soooooo romantic!

,,Oh jeah, I know exactly how i get that happy and how to win the prettiest and smartest girl of all but ohhhh nooo too late for you because I already have her and she has me and everything else is a lovestory!"

Jeah, sometimes I know exactly, how he had feel.

But this wasn't the point im want to. I just want to write how romantic I am but I think it's to hard to bring in a post, because it is nothing you can really touch... So jeah... Sentence with an X, doesn't was something. I'm a big fan of german phrases in english language. I mean what else is more romantic than candles and roses. But not only things are romantic... Like, walking with your girl (or boy or whatever you want, I don't care) through the park and tell her a joke and when she starts to laugh, then kiss her short and intense and then just go on with the walk. And tell her something about the tree you see and what makes it so special and then hold her hand and let her do this one dance spin everybody likes or just tell her something false (nothing big, just a information about ducks or something like that) and laughs when she believes it and when she get angry and hit you soft or makes these ,,aaaarrrr, don't you!!!!", Then she likes you. Laying in bed all the day can also be romantic. When you touches each other very soft and tell each other storys about your life or your dreams and hopes and everything that is in your head and you laugh and kiss and make even more of course and then you eat some fruits or something else that is sweet and healthy or just light, so vegetables are okay, but not as romantic as fruits. Strawberrys and pineapples are a good idea. And nobody goes out of your room, only for the toilet or something like that, because beeing so long (a full day) and so near to each other, without thinking about your work or your ,,normal" day routine is very romantic.

I like romantic a lot. Just as I like physic and emojis. Safe more than emojis, but not sure if I like it more or less than physic. I mean there is sometimes not even a different between these two things. Do you know stars 🌟? Jeah, these things, right there in the universe (yes, the same universe, you are a part of). You can look at them and tell the girl beside you storys about gods and people who love each other so hard, not even the gods can hold them back. All these stories are pretty dislogical and from far far away but you look at millons of giant nuclear fusions and there are real, so why should gods and love doesn't be real and then you mind can think about dreams that are usually ways to abstract and you don't even believe in them, but they are this giant nuclear fusions and when they are real, why shouldn't your dreams be??? Ohhh stars are sooooooooo romantic 🌟❤️🌟❤️🌟❤️🌟❤️🌟!!!!

So this picture is in romania. There's a long street we are drive on and we take a break so my friend, who is the driver, can make a short sleep break and I take my book and my notice block, sit down and look at exactly this panorama. Behind me was a little river and I think i don't have to explain you why rivers are romantic too. I wrote a, like 11 or 12 sides long, loveletter for my (now ex-) -girlfriend and in my autistic world I was somewhere else, but not at some rumainian rest stop in the middle of nothing. I played that I was an soldier or agent or maybe just an adventure guy (oh that's funny, because I'm really a adventure guy 😋), who's writing a letter to his, now far away waiting for him, wife and I write how much I miss her and something about the natives and what they look like or doing and that the nature is so big and old and magical and omg it was just romantic ❤️.

So it's 22.22 o'clock (what means someone thinking on you (jeah romantic hits again!!!)) and I'm more tired than I'm want to write (and this means a lot, because I love writing and I have even wrote a book (only 12 sides long) and then I start the next book and the first book's name are ,, mein Buch" what means translated ,,my book" and I always ask the people if they have read my book and they ask which book and I say ,,my book!!" And this goes on and on and it will never stop beeing funny!)

Sooo jeah... I wish you all an romantic evening 🌆

Bye ❤️🌹 (it's not the real Bye, at the end of my pots, this one is under the ape with the rose!!)

Lol its an ape...

Emojies are cool😂

Bye ❤️🌹

#autism #autism blog #autistic blogger

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bellsybuilds · 4 years

Link

[Part 2 of the Truck Stops and Tribulations series (link)]

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The way home - chapter 4 (T rating and warnings will change)

Din Djarin, Paz Viz(s)la, Baby Yoda, Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels, Agent Ginger Ale (modern AU, all human, road trips, found family, family reunions)

Jack claps, bringing the child’s attention back to him. He smiles indulgently. “Come to Papi.”

“Don’t do that,” Din growls.

Ginger stares at the lines of text spilling down the length of her monitor and releases a heavy, trembling sigh. Her hands hover at the keyboard. Her vision is blurring and she's starting to feel light-headed from all the missed sleep of the night before.

After helping Jack with his after-hours family emergency, she had some personal things to address. And these things had a deadline.

A glance to the clock in the bottom right of her monitor has her heart jump with a shot of adrenaline. 6:50AM. Already? Sucking in another quick breath, she forces herself to release it over the count of four slow breaths. Again, in and out, even slower this time, counting to six. By the third slow exhale, she’s drawing air without the feeling of invisible weight on her collar.

The application is almost complete. She just needs to write the concluding remarks on her cover letter… and then get Jack to endorse her nomination to field agent.

Swallowing thickly, her fingers curl to loose fists.

"Ginger?"

She jumps from her chair and whirls, monitor shielded with her back, hands splayed wide.

From the doorway, Jack has poked his head through, an eyebrow raised in question. Ginger didn't hear the latch open. Freshly shaven and bare of his customary moustache, Jack doesn't look like himself. That's the point, though it's unsettling. Jack hasn’t been without it the entire time she’s known him.

This Fall will mark her seventh anniversary with Statesman as an analyst.

He frowns at her suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"Just--" Ginger waves a dismissive hand and hopes she's angling herself to block her work. Her cheeks heat with embarrassment. "Some personal admin."

"Well, finish it later and get moving. These halls will be busy soon and I don't want an audience."

Her heart skips a beat, chastised. "Right. Right, I'll--" She turns to quickly save and close her work, locking down her station.

Out in the hallway, they fall in step, Ginger moving quickly to keep up with Jack's longer stride. From the corner of her eye, she watches him draw the back of a self-conscious hand across his upper lip.

"It looks all right," she tries to encourage him, voice light.

His lip curls, grumbling. "I feel naked as a fresh baby's bottom."

"You look younger." Like a fresh recruit, but with broader shoulders.

Jack seems to agree because he sighs, pushing through a tight jaw, “That ain't a good thing, Ginger."

Leaving the secure wing and emerging onto the grounds, Ginger sharply inhales the cool blast of the dawn, eyes watering. Datapad clutched to her chest, she looks to the pale grey sky and sucks in a deeper breath, willing herself awake. The fresh air tastes cold and clean. She'll need all her senses for the task ahead.

Just a little bit of conceit: like a preliminary mission to demonstrate what she's capable of.

Entering the public buildings of the estate, she waits for Jack as he draws the door shut behind them. He always tried to be a gentleman… it’d be nice if he also didn’t yell so much.

Continuing on, Ginger has to clear her throat twice before she trusts her voice won't crack. The heated, recycled air feels almost too warm after the brief passage outside. "W-when we're done here, I could use your help with something."

Jack raises an eyebrow at her, the expression quickly slipping into his genial charm when they’re spotted by the front guards at reception. They both nod back in greeting. "All right," Jack's tone is dubious.

"Your endorsement, actually," she clarifies, throat tightening with sudden nervousness, and she keeps her eyes ahead as they turn the corridor to guest accommodation.

Up ahead, she can hear the tinkle of dishes and the soft murmur of chatter from the cafeteria.

Beside her, Jack has straightened his shoulders, expression drawn tight. After a long moment, he finally speaks, halting, "Look, darlin'--"

The flip of her stomach makes Ginger rush to interrupt, turning on him with a bright smile. "Just think about it! Wait here." She gestures to the storage closet as they approach. "And I'll go get him."

Marching away with the datapad tight against her side, she willfully blocks out any sigh or stray comment that might reach her ears. She doesn’t want to hear it right now. She can’t afford to. It's probably unbecoming of Statesman agents to run from potential criticism considering all the other things they would face in the field… but first, she has to get into the field. Right now, Jack is the only thing standing between her and a re-classification.

Nobody else at this site could possibly compete with her training or hours invested in the lab and as mission support. She knows this branch inside and out. She is the next best person equipped to protect its interests from the front lines. And she can do the job just as well as Jack.

One hurdle at a time.

Thankfully, none of the sparse crowd in the cafeteria give her a second glance. True to Jack’s assumption, the men she’s looking for are awake. Ginger spots them seated by the far wall, affording one of the best vantages of all the tables and counter of food assembly.

The two men are seated across from each other, emptied plates of breakfast before them, though she can see Din occupied with a smaller plate, pushing something around with his fork. On the chair beside him, the child sits with his legs splayed, blinking up at Din with more patience and curiosity than she has ever witnessed in a toddler not falling asleep. Barely eye level with the table in its over-large onesie, his tiny fingertips barely peek beyond his thick, padded sleeves and the brown collar bunching around his shoulders. These men either don’t know how to dress this child or are low on options.

Ginger has no place to judge.

Drawing closer, she catches the end of Din’s terse, “What the fuck are fairy lights?”

The taller man, Paz, turns his phone and, over Din’s shoulder, Ginger sees the portrait of a car’s front interior at night: small lights thread across the cloud grey roof of the cabin like softly haloed stars. One of the cords trails down the open passenger side window like a lead back to the real world from the dream of the whimsical refuge. At the photo’s lower end, someone is holding an unfolded map open to the camera’s eye: an invitation to adventure on the open road.

Din frowns, shaking his head and decisively spears another small portion of waffle. On the chair beside him, the child snaps to attention and bounces, gasping with excitement, small arms waving at the fork’s approach.

Despite Ginger’s exhaustion from the long night, a smile tugs at her mouth. What a beautiful child.

“Sit still,” Din orders, holding the fork hostage until the kid looks back into his face and splits into a pure, bright laugh at whatever he sees there.

Paz glances up from his phone, looking between them. A slow smile curves his mouth, small and private. His relaxed slouch is a far leap from the hostile bodyguard who towered over Ginger last night, shoulders squared, suspicious and domineering. He only cracked in the moment the baby cried at the sight of the needle. If they had met under different circumstances, Ginger would have even called him handsome with his plaid lumberjack sense of style.

“I think he would like them,” Paz is encouraging, appraising the photo again.

“We don’t need it.”

“They’re free.”

“From where?”

Ginger finally clears her throat and holds her datapad against her side, smiling with an apologetic shrug when they both sit back, looking up at her. Jack’s brother nods politely in greeting. Under his worn cap, Din’s eyes look heavy and red-rimmed, shadowed with the faint bruise of exhaustion. Maybe Ginger isn’t the only one who lost sleep last night.

Across from him, Paz looks spry by comparison. He’s not wearing his cap this morning, and his dark hair gleams wet from a recent shower. But something subtle has shifted in his expression. The soft smile has slipped away. His gaze narrows and he straightens in his chair. This one will be watching her.

At their mutual, undivided attention, her mouth is suddenly dry.

“Good morning,” she says.

The kid catches the neck of Din’s fork and hums when he retreats with his prize of waffles, eyes crinkled happily. A drip of maple syrup escapes from the corner of his mouth.

Ginger has to resist the impulse to lean over and wipe it away.

Paz does it for her, reaching across the table to thumb it from the kid’s cheek and wipe his finger on the napkin by Din’s plate. The kid doesn’t miss a beat, already rising in his seat to reach for more of the dissected waffle from Din’s plate.

“Morning,” Din says it like a sigh, and Ginger feels that weary sentiment in her bones. She doesn’t take it personally. “Ginger, right?”

“Agent Ginger Ale,” she corrects, then nodding, “Ginger is fine.” At least she hasn’t left an impression as the scary woman with the needle.

“Good morning,” Paz echoes, tone surprisingly bright. For some reason, Din frowns at him.

“I hope you both had a chance to try their hash browns,” Ginger says, glancing back at the food counter and the few staff milling around this early in the morning, easily distinguishable by the IDs dangling from their lapels. “They’re my favourite.”

Din’s arms fold on the table before him, gently closing around his elbows. The child frowns when the gesture pushes the waffle plate farther from his reach. Stepping carefully along his seat and holding onto the table’s edge for balance, the child tries again, eyes narrowed in intense concentration. From across the table, Paz watches, mouth curving with a fond, amused quirk.

With a glance at the counter, Din nods. “The food was fine.”

She flashes a quick smile at him again and hopes it doesn’t tremble. Small talk isn’t her strongest suit. “We’re ready for you two.”

Din straightens in his seat. “Now?”

The kid stills with a tiny handful of waffle like he’s been caught. “Beh?”

She nods, stepping back to give him space. “You and him.” She looks at Paz and finds him already watching her. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to wait out here.”

Paz looks from her to Din, slow and considering. “How long will you be?”

Ginger tilts her head, scanning the room as she considers the time it will take them to get back. Do the swap. Get in the lab. Hope nobody stops them and then get the kid on that table... “An hour. Maybe less.”

Paz looks back to Din. “I’ll go check on Missy.”

Din just shrugs a shoulder, seeming noncommittal.

Ginger blinks. “Missy?”

“It’s his cat,” Din rises and scoops the kid up under his armpits, then blinks wide, startled at the squawk of indignation in his ear because the motion made the kid drop his waffle.

“Cat?” Ginger hasn’t seen a cat in person in so long. She misses cats.

“She’s waiting,” Paz explains, also rising to his feet. “In the car.”

Oh. All by herself? No, it’s not her business. Focus.

“When you come back, tell the front desk you’re here for me and Jack,” she tells Paz.

Din hands the child another portion of waffle, syrup-free, and watches him shovel it into his mouth with an expression between judging and amused, shaking his head quietly. Wiping his hand on his worn jeans, Din meets Paz’s gaze, and his smile fades slightly. It could be Ginger’s imagination but in that space of a heartbeat, the air seems to thicken with a strange tension.

And then Din looks to her. “Give us a minute?”

“Of course,” she shakes her head, palms raised. No problem. “I’ll be right out front. But please be quick.”

///

Din waits until Ginger is out of hearing range, white coat rippling behind her. When he looks to Paz, he finds the man smiling at the kid, gently pinching his cheek.

“You don’t have to,” Din says.

Paz’s gaze flicks to him, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Come back. If you want to head on your way now. You got us this far. That’s enough.”

Paz pauses, glancing to the child wiping his mouth against Din’s shoulder. Paz is hard to read, but Din is pretty sure the rapid blinking, searching gaze means ‘kind of stunned’, yet he still arrives at, “Yeah. Okay.”

A fist inexplicably closes around Din’s lungs. “Yeah?”

Paz nods, hands coming to a rest on his hips. “I mean. I’m in no rush, but... we got you back to your brother.”

Din almost snorts a laugh. The reunion with Jack is not something he’s celebrating.

“And if you feel safe here….”

Din frowns, but doesn’t correct him. Safe? Getting here wasn’t about safety. Jack had resources they needed. There are too many bad memories wound up in this place and Din will be out of here as soon as they’re done. But he won’t need Paz for that.

“We’ll be fine,” Din says, rather than dispute him. Paz has done more than enough for them, and Din doesn’t like being indebted to people. He shuffles the kid higher against his side, freeing his right hand. He offers it to Paz. “Thank you.”

Paz has many different smiles. Din wonders if the man knows that about himself. This one is… difficult to name. Paz considers the hand Din has offered him and chuckles under his breath. The hand that clasps Din back is firm and powerful, but unlike their first handshake, doesn’t pretend to crush him in his grip.

That was only funny the first time.

They had just met. Paz had emerged from the dark of the Waffle House’s lot like some kind of hellish spectre, spewing fire and barking at Din to get down. He’d placed the flamethrower in Din’s hands so he could take the wheel once aboard his truck. Din promptly turned it on him. And Paz had just put up his hands, fearless, gaze serious.

“You can roast me later, but I can get you far from here.”

Paz hadn’t held it against him. Trust was earned. Everyone and their dog had been chasing this child. And Paz was the only one laying cover fire; well-equipped for a private citizen. Din might have been more suspicious if Paz wasn’t clearly just from the country and living on the open road. If Din had space and means, he would be doing the same.

“The honour was mine,” Paz insists with that rare, quiet gravity that always made Din feel like the air was clearing, like he was peeling a shade of the world back on something significant but could never hold it long enough to understand what he was seeing. Paz releases him and gently cups the back of the kid’s head. The little one twists around for a better look at him. “Look after him, kiddo.”

The kid frowns, lips parting in a soft shape of confusion. Din wonders if he’ll even remember Paz in a week’s time.

Belatedly, Din realises they still have the mess of their breakfast on the table before them. As though reading his mind, Paz shakes his head, waving him off.

“I’ll clean this up. You go. That woman sounds like you're in a hurry.”

Din’s heart thuds in his chest. They’re never going to see him again and it feels… abrupt. Seven days of sharing meals, of waking to the rock and sway of the road beneath him and Paz at the truck’s wheel, that darned cat nuzzling against him for space on the cabin’s small bed. It’s been so long since he travelled with anyone. Did saying goodbye always feel this heavy? And unfairly easy?

“Are you sure?”

Paz is already turning away, collecting their plates. He waves Din off. “Go on. I’ve got this.”

They’re just ships passing in the night. That has always been his life. Din nods mechanically and feels the child’s small hand clutch at his collar.

“Thank you.”

Thank you for taking a risk for us. Until our paths cross again. Be safe.

Arms tight around the child, Din turns and leaves. The child yawns in his ear and Din takes the reminder to take a deep breath, putting their new friend behind them. Maybe some goodbyes just have to be understated, no matter how big they feel.

"Din."

His heart thumps hard and his breath catches in his throat. When he looks back, Paz nods with a two-fingered salute. His smile is kind.

"Good luck."

"Ehn," the kid complains, twisting in Din's arms and flopping overbackwards, almost falling right out of his hold, what the hell, kid?

Heart leaping, Din catches the kid just in time, mentally cursing and wondering why-- what is wrong with this kid-- but he shoves those thoughts to the side and gives Paz a tight nod of thanks. The guy’s smile widens, and Din rushes from the cafeteria before he can embarrass himself further.

"Hey," Din commands, bouncing the whining kid to get his attention. "Settle."

The kid sags in his arms, and his head hangs with a pout.

Ginger smiles when she sees him (what does he do to keep earning that from people? Must be the kid) and leads them to a storage closet of all places.

It's larger than it looks from the outside: several shelves deep full of industrial cleaning supplies and equipment. It smells of bleach and dust. Overhead, a fan whirs noisily from the air vent. In the clear walking space before them, Jack stands by an empty steel chair set on a small square of tarpaulin. He smiles brightly upon seeing the kid, arms spread wide in welcome.

“There he is!”

Meeting Jack’s eye, the kid bursts into delighted giggles and curls away, hiding his face against Din’s chest. Kids are weird.

Jack catches Din’s eye and nods. "Sit. You can hold him.”

The door clicks shut behind them, and Din glances back to see Ginger standing guard.

Din frowns, eyeing the familiar tool in Jack's hand. "What's going on?"

"We're taking care of that tracker," Jack slaps the seat's back as though it's a prized ride. He brandishes the hair trimmer. "But first you need a haircut. Time is short. Sit and I'll explain.”

Ten minutes later, Din is freshly shorn (uncomfortably so), and testing the give in the shoulders of his new outfit. Jack’s clothes are heavier than they look, warmer, too, but loose.

“Did you gain weight?” he frowns at his brother.

Jack sneers at him, lacing up his boots. “Or did you just lose too much muscle?”

“Why’d you have to shave your moustache?”

Jack straightens like a shot and glares at him, offended. “Hey, I thought you shaved yours, too, all right! It’s been a long night.”

“Feel naked,” Din grumbles, mournfully rubbing his bare upper lip. It doesn’t feel right.

Straightening side-by-side, the two brothers size each other up, clothes exchanged, groomed to match, a near perfect mirror image. Din stares at the beaver blend cowboy hat and slowly puts it on with a groan.

“You’re not standing right,” Jack says.

“We don’t all have a stick up our ass,” Din mutters.

Jack points at him accusingly. “Fix your stance, or we’re goin’ to get nowhere real fast!”

“Shh!” Ginger hushes, looking specifically at Jack with alarm. “Keep it down!”

“Fine,” Din mutters and cocks a hip out, hands on his waist in his most insulting impression of his brother’s dumb bravado at rest. “How’s this?”

Not at all deterred, Jack takes a different tact. “Well, let’s find out.” He turns to the child waddling through the short tufts of hair strewn from Din’s haircut on the tarpaulin. “Hey, Green Bean.”

The child looks up with a questioning sound, a small hand wrapped around the chair’s leg.

Jack smiles. “C’mere.”

And something in Din rails watching his brother in his clothes, holding out his arms, smiling as Din never would (or could); and his heart kicks in his chest when the child totters towards him with a happy noise, arms lifting up.

No, Jack hasn’t earned that.

"Kid,” Din orders in the same voice he always has, irrationally hoping the kid will recognise him: the one who has watched over him these past days, fed and washed him, let him drool against his shoulder, and kept him from gnawing on their weapons.

The kid halts halfway to Jack, and looks back at him, searching his face. He squints adorably.

Din almost smiles, but thinks better of it, imagining how unnatural it would look. Instead, he points at himself. “Who’s this?”

“Ehn?” The kid blinks, turning more fully to look at him. Din knows he’s only a child, but something in his expression is more aware, more articulated and mature than any child has a right to be. Is that what people mean when they say they see an old soul?

Jack claps, bringing the child’s attention back to him. He smiles indulgently. “Come to Papi.”

“Don’t do that,” Din growls.

Thankfully, Ginger chooses that moment to step back in. “Jack, it’s almost eight. Come on.”

Sighing with disappointment as though he’s been deprived of his game, Jack rises back to his feet and unclips his ID, offering it to his brother. Just as Din is about to take it, Jack holds it back, and makes sure he has his brother’s undivided attention.

“Din’ika, I’m trusting you not to commit crimes against the state in my name while you wear this. It’s a big responsibility which I know you know ‘cause you couldn’t run from it fast enough.”

Scowling, Din snatches the ID and clips it to the chest pocket of his suit jacket. It’s a different set of clothes from what Jack wore yesterday, but he doesn’t think either of these two went home. The thought that they worked through the night for the kid is the only thing staying his tongue, and discomfort squirms again in his chest. Jack will hold this debt over him for a while to come.

“Need to go over the plan again?” Jack asks, looking between Ginger and Din.

“We get in the lab, Ginger removes the chip, we come back, swap, and we’re out of your lives,” Din says. He watches the child around Jack’s knee, the little one sliding down to his bottom, grabbing a fistfull of short, brown hair and throwing it to the side in a full body motion. Giggling, the child does it again, watching the strands scatter and flutter like grass.

“Sweet and simple,” Jack smirks, but claps a hand round his brother’s shoulder, focuses on Ginger with intent. “You do everything this woman tells you, all right? You don’t speak to anyone. You don’t go anywhere or touch anything ‘less she tells you to.”

Din meets Ginger’s slightly startled look and cocks his head with a shrug. “You’re the boss.”

Jack fixes him with a raised finger in warning. “I would never say that.”

“It’s okay,” Ginger assures Din, as though she’s brushing Jack aside. “I’ll take care of you.”

But as his brother is turning away, something else occurs to Din. He doesn’t know why he thinks of it.

“Wait.”

Jack gives him an arched look. Din gestures between the two of them and thumbs the thin necklace of leather at his neck. “Should we….?”

Should they swap this, too?

Jack’s sober look wipes all other emotion from his face. He hesitates, eyes falling to Din’s neck. Something hardens behind his gaze. “Ni trikari, ni ne'lise.”

Din shouldn’t have asked in the first place. He nods, palming the shape of the steel amulet beneath his shirt. He can’t see any impression of Jack’s through his, but Din knows his twin must still wear its counterpart. No matter what else has passed between them, this one thing would not have changed. “Gar serim.”

“Hey.” Jack clasps his shoulder firmly, voice quiet. “No one will look that far. Trust me.”

Gratitude warms through the tight feeling that had briefly clenched his chest. Even the thought of parting with his own makes him tense. He doesn’t have many personal effects, but the pendant….

Ginger is watching them with a curious frown. “What language is that?” she asks gently.

Din’s stomach swoops. He glances at his brother, but sees none of his own wariness reflected back. It makes him feel better.

“An old one,” is all Jack says, then claps his hands together. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.”

#truck stops and tribulations series #the mandalorian #Kingsman: the golden circle #din djarin #paz vizsla #paz vizla #baby yoda #jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent ginger ale #paz/din #din/paz #found family #family reunions #road trip #all human AU

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callunavulgari · 4 years

Text

Year-In-Fic | 2019

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount?

This year I wrote 41 fics (technically 40 as the last was published today, but I wrote it in December so I’m counting it), for a total of 96,689 words. For even more interesting numbers, of that 96k, a little over 70k of them were written in the month of October alone, so I’m pretty proud of that.

Fic Roundup!

children of dust and ash | Bartimaeus | Bartimaeus/Kitty(/Nathaniel) | 1,801 words | Kitty summons Bartimaeus on a chilly fall day in her thirty-eighth year.

sweet music playing in the dark | DBH | 1,102 words | “I noticed some time ago that you seem to have an appreciation for jazz.”

Radio Ga Ga | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,143 words | There’s always another party in Hawkins, Indiana. It would be almost boring if it weren’t for Steve Harrington.

Sunlight | Marvel | Loki/Thor | 765 words | They aren’t quite out of the solar system when Loki appears at the arm of Thor’s chair, hair shorn short and a furious snarl on his face.

like the bough of a willow tree | Detroit Become Human | Hank/Connor | 1,214 words | There’s a human lost in his woods.

knocking on heaven’s door | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,748 words | “Just, get in the fucking car. I’ll drive you home.” Billy looked at him, very seriously, and said, “What if I don’t want to go home?”

no more dreaming like a ghost | KH | Axel/Roxas | 813 words | He is in the kitchen, the stove top still warm under his thighs, and everything smells of cherries. The pie is cooling on the windowsill, the sun slanting in warm and buttery, and it is like a dream. A memory. A wish.

Cheers | DBH | Hankcon | 6,368 words | “Are you coming in or not?”Connor blinks, jerks his eyes up and away from those hands and-The bartender has blue eyes. They match the spinning LED at his temple perfectly.

bury a friend (try to wake up) | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,587 words | Steve digs up Billy’s body on a Tuesday.

won’t be too soon ‘til I say… goodnight moon | KH | Riku/Sora | 4,549 words | The house was built in the fall of 1882.

you’ll never know what hit you | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 5,379 words | “C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

make this chaos count | EOS 10 | Ryan/Akmazian | 724 words | “You really should stop looking for me,” Akmazian tells him, fingers creeping across Ryan’s ribcage, mapping the architecture of his ribs.

eat you up whole | The Witcher | Geralt/Regis | 2,527 words | “How many mouthfuls do you think I could take from you before it had some effect?” Regis whispers, lips against his throat. Geralt can feel the pinprick of fangs. “Four? Six? Ten? More, even?”

forget the horror here | DBH | Hankcon | 4,390 words | “Hello,” the android says, it’s chest heaving, the gleam of its heart brighter, bluer than before.

summoning demons (and other bad first date ideas) | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 3,868 words | “If I let you out of that circle,” Ryan says, slowly. “Are you going to eat me?”

Itch | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims | 1,440 words | The boneturner takes from him two ribs - one for him and one for Jon.

the salt water sting | Dishonored | Corvo/Outsider | 2,163 words | The ship wrecks several hundred miles off of the coast of Karnaca.

a skeleton of something more | SGA | Rodney/John | 3,072 words | “John?” he murmurs, still coasting on the pain. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, if cotton were also made of glass.

in the woods somewhere | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 4,570 words | Stiles buys a house in Virginia.

Wake Up | The Magnus Archives | Martin/Jon | 550 words | “If you wake up,” Martin tells him, experimentally. “I won’t go through with it. You can tell me what a stupid idea it was, and we can laugh about it, and everything will be normal.”

Pas de Deux | KH | Axel/Roxas | 506 words | Roxas doesn’t remember what the sky looks like anymore.

try to wake up | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,226 words | They do not, in fact, bone down and praise Satan.

too late to come on home | LoZ | Gen | 1,391 words | “You look familiar,” the boy says in his strange, haunting voice. “Are you lost?”

patron saint of the lost causes | Harry Potter | Draco/Harry | 4,203 words | “Can’t you just, y’know,” he waves a hand and makes an obscene gesture, his cheeks flaring red. “Shag it out?”

wouldn’t you like to see something strange? | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 1,571 words | “I’d say you make my heart pound, but well…” Stiles nods meaningfully to his chest, where if you look hard enough between the slots of his ribs, you can see the lump of muscle that once was his heart, pointedly not beating. “You know.”

the night is softly, sweetly calling | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 2,938 words | Here’s the thing that Stiles never tells the Hales: his mother was strange too.

Haunt | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 1,486 words | Ryan couldn’t remember a time when the world didn’t believe in ghosts.

bite my tongue, bide my time | PJO | Nico/Percy(/Annabeth) | 1,376 words | “What’s wrong with you?” Nico asks, cowering when Percy places a gentle kiss on his collarbone.

Bird Song | Raven Cycle | Ronan/Adam, Gen | 1,445 words | On a dreary Sunday in early January, Ronan dreams himself a pair of wings.

kiss me hard until you’re done | Star Wars | Reylo | 3,082 words | He looks up at her from under heavy lids, dark hair sweeping forward to frame his face. “May I have this dance?”

beauty in the dissonance | Marvel | Tony/Loki | 1,411 words | When Tony dies, it isn’t for forever.

like real people do | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 2,808 words | “I’ve got the sight, man,” he says with a small shrug. “And look, I feel for you. You’re dead and I’m not, and that sucks, but unless you’re planning on doing something about it, I’d really appreciate it if you could stop feeling me up and let me get back to sleep.”

i’d rather drown in your ocean | Naruto | Itachi/Shisui | 1,630 words | The Uchihas are an odd sort. Everyone says so.

catch your breath | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien/Sam | 2,588 words | Mark had never assumed in a million years that he would ever see Damien again. He hadn’t factored in zombies.

Nightmare | The Magnus Archives | Martin/Jonathan | 1,424 words | “All right,” he says, taking Jon’s still outstretched hand. “Let’s give the dream what it wants.”

dreaming of the crash | Gravity Falls | Mabel & Dipper | 484 words | When the end of the world comes, they’re under the bed.

don’t we love it now? | Kingdom Hearts | Sora/Riku/Kairi | 1,784 words | When Kairi is eleven years old, she gets lost in the woods.

all this, and love too, will ruin us | Star Wars | Reylo | 1,102 words | Rey is awake to watch the sunrise

open the walls, play with your dolls | Coraline | Coraline/Wybie | 2,886 words | Halloween at the Pink Palace is a lot like any other time of year.

in every golden trace | Queen’s Thief | Costis/Eugenides/Irene | 4,645 words | For as long as Costis can remember, he’s had two names scored across the skin atop his ribs, one on either side of his rib cage, nearly perfect mirrors to one another.

a different kind of danger in the daylight | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 6,930 words | Sleeping with Holland was never part of the plan.

Best story I wrote this year: Probably the night is softly, sweetly calling. I wrote this for the 18th of October, and it’s the much awaited third part of a Teen Wolf/Addams Family fusion that I wrote back in 2014. A lot of people have asked me to continue this series over the years, but I never did because I felt my writing style had changed too much and then I fell out of the Teen Wolf fandom completely. But I’d written another Teen Wolf fic a few days before (more on this later) and I was just... very nostalgic all of a sudden. My style of writing had changed, but to offset the change of tone, I wrote the story from Stiles’s POV instead of Derek’s and it made all the difference. I was pretty pleased with the result, and hope that it made everyone happy.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. patron saint of the lost causes. There were a couple fics that I think I did a really good job writing this year, the one listed above and below included, but I think that this one was my favorite. Writing Drarry was a surreal experience, because even when I was in the Harry Potter fandom I didn’t really write for it (well, I didn’t publish what I’d written for it) and I was surprised by how easily it came to me. I tried to channel a lot of the feeling of men who had mothers when I was writing this one, because it seemed very right.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. All right, so technically my stats are all messed up this year because when I posted the third part of the Addams/Teen Wolf fusion, I also posted a chapter to Que Sera, Sera since so many people were subscribed to that story. So. From a purely stats standpoint, Que Sera, Sera was the most popular because it has a total of 25,790 hits, 2973 kudos, and 115 comments. BUT, I did not actually write anything new for that one so-

in the woods somewhere was the first fic I’d written for Teen Wolf since I wrote take me to church in August of 2017. It has over 900 kudos and some 5000+ hits. When I decided to do Dark Month this year, I knew that I wanted to revisit some of my old fandoms, so Teen Wolf was always going to be a given. I wrote take me to church as a cathartic goodbye to the show, the fandom, and of course, Stiles and Derek. It was my soft epilogue for the boys.

in the woods somewhere has a very similar feel to it. It’s post-canon, obviously, and features Stiles buying a house in Virginia and Derek slowly working his way back into his life. It is also very much in the ‘soft epilogue’ genre, leaning heavily into the magical Stiles Stilinski trope while maintaining the FBI agent direction canon was leading us in. Also it has a lot of comfort things for me - judicious descriptions of food, a packed witchy cabin in the woods, and warm shower kisses. Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Possibly either won't be too soon 'til I say... goodnight moon or all this, and love too, will ruin us. The first of these two fics is almost 5k of spooky season Riku/Sora that was strongly inspired by Uzumaki-sama’s old fic Goodnight Moon. It was the second day of October and my prompts for the day were moon cycles, nightmare, cage, lookalike, mirrors, and glowing eyes, which was just asking for fic exploring doppelgangers and old haunted houses. I loved writing it, and maybe I should have expected it since Kingdom Hearts is such a quiet fandom nowadays, but it honestly stung that it didn’t get more attention.

The second of those fics was a Reylo fic (yes, yes, I know, it’s an awful ship, etc. etc.) that was very much written to be slow and melancholy and kind of surreal. Sometimes my smallest fics are my favorite, and I really liked this one. But alas, some things were not meant to be.

Most fun story to write: I had a whole lot of fun writing summoning demons (and other bad first date ideas). A lot of the fics I wrote this year, particularly during October, were really fun and easy to write. I missed writing every day. This one in particular though was about 4k of Ryan accidentally summoning Shane (the demon) while Shane was standing right next to him in his human suit. It let me play with a lot of body horror tropes that I don’t explore usually, and Buzzfeed Unsolved is a very fun, fresh fandom to dig around in. This is the second of the three (I think it was three, at least) fics that I wrote for the fandom during October and I had so much fun with it.

Story that could have been better? I don’t know about better, but Sunlight and Bird Song were both supposed to be significantly longer. I wrote Sunlight shortly after watching Endgame, and it was always going to be me working my way through my issues with that movie (Loki not really coming back, weird wonky time travel, Thor leaving his people after his whole arc was him learning how to be a good king) but I got distracted and had to go somewhere that day and just never got back to it.

Bird Song is actually a fic I’ve been meaning to write for years. Ages ago (and we are truly talking ages ago, like September 2015 ages ago), @kaikamahine gave me a prompt for E, 17, and hymnal, which basically balanced out to Ronan, churches, and wings. So day 20 of October was going to be Raven Cycle (with such prompts as stacked deck, darkness, wings, and fight fire with fire, it was begging for it) and I was finally going to write Ronan wingfic. It was going to be great. There was going to be Calla and Ronan interaction and found family themes and there was going to be a church, because obviously, but then I wasn’t doing so well and ran out of time, SO. Definitely could have been better.

Story I wrote to fix things: beauty in the dissonance, the 24th fic of October, was a Tony/Loki flavored story where both Tony and Loki are, in fact, alive. Sunlight was written as a direct response to Endgame, even if it was never finished properly. make this chaos count was the 4th day of October, and written because I’m still not fucking over Ryan and Akmazian. And then knocking on heaven’s door was written just after viewing s3 of Stranger Things. It was uh, less of a fix it fic and more a wallow in your grief fic, but it still applies.

Oh, and a different kind of danger in the daylight was technically fix it fic? I’m generally okay with how Shades of Magic ended, despite my favorite character dying because it came off as a good death. However, the recipient of my Yuletide gift wanted no character death and I wanted to write something post-canon, so presto, fix it fic.

Longest completed fic this year: a different kind of danger in the daylight, followed by Cheers. Both are hovering between 6 and 7k, which isn’t technically long, but since about 90% of my fic this year was written over the course of a day each... I’ll take it.

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year: I had a lot of fun with Buzzfeed Unsolved and The Magnus Archives, but I also had fun dipping briefly back into Harry Potter and Teen Wolf.

Favorite character you wrote this year: I had way, way too much fun writing Geralt and Regis in eat you up whole. I have literally no idea if it translated into good fic, but it was fun and just shy of porny and I just really like Geralt. I also had a lot of fun writing Lila in the Shades of Magic fic.

Most memorable comment(s) this year: I got two comments from @kaikamahine about a week ago that honestly made my day. @faorism reread one of my older Stranger Things fics and left a comment, which made me reread it, which was just very good. Every single comment I got on the new Teen Wolf fics with some variation of ‘missed you’ or ‘so glad you’re back’ made me fucking melt. The two different comments where the reader wasn’t even familiar with the material, just read and enjoyed because I wrote it. The comment on one of my Stranger Things fics that just reads, “What the FUCK this SLAPPED.” The comment directly above that one that is from one of my favorite writers in the fandom. The several comments on the single PJO fic I wrote this year which were different variations of “oh my gosh it’s you” and “it’s been so long.”

And of course everyone losing their collective shit over some of the grosser October fics. Namely Itch.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t: For the most part, the fics I wanted to write but didn’t are the same as last year- Sabriel AU, Enjolras/Grantaire fic, found family Dishonored fic, bodyswappying Reylo, Sterek Bioshock and Carmilla AUs which I am likely to post as is sometime next year.

I still want to finish the Castlevania OT3 fic, the giant canon-divergent Bright Sessions AU where years after the series ends, Mark ends up running into Damien again in a small town in the middle of nowhere only to realize that he has a daughter, a farm, a life, and is just so drawn to it that he keeps coming back. I have the Wolf 359 post-canon fic where everyone has feelings and found family is a general theme and maybe Eiffel smooches an AI. I also have the smuttier Wolf 359 fic that’s been lurking in the back of my head for months where Eiffel and Kepler er, basically eiffel tower Jacobi.

Oh, and I have the Reylo fic where Rey (and Ben, through the bond) sit through General Organa’s funeral and keep coming back to each other afterwards. And that Final Fantasy 15 fic where Dino and Noctis do the nasty. And the Hera & Jacobi fic from October. And uh, the post episode 9 fic that’s been lurking about in my brain.

Oddest story: Probably i’d rather drown in your ocean? It was pretty spot on aesthetically for me, but it was weird to write Itachi and Shisui again, especially in a strange modern day vampire context? Also Itch and Nightmare were both Magnus Archive fics that were super gross (Itch) and just plain spooky and bizarre (Nightmare) but they were so fun to write. Hardest story to do: Cheers gave me some trouble initially but got a lot easier as I went on. I hit writer’s block pretty bad with the Shades of Magic fic too, but that seems to be what happens when I come up on deadlines. Easiest story to write? Most of October’s fics were a blast to write and super easy besides. Basically all of the Kingdom Hearts, Stranger Things, and Teen Wolf fic. And the Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Most mining of your own history in one story: Probably either open the walls, play with your dolls or no more dreaming like a ghost. Not in any way that really matters, but there are a couple familiar details.

Themes, or absence thereof: Mostly either spooky scary things or fix it fics. Sometimes both.

Where did you publish/archive your stories? Ao3, as per usual. Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: The only thing that I currently have planned is the post episode 9 fic and a couple things that I’ve had planned for a while that may or may not come out.

Sexiest moment (excerpt): “How many mouthfuls do you think I could take from you before it had some effect?” Regis whispers, lips against his throat. Geralt can feel the pinprick of fangs. “Four? Six? Ten? More, even?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Geralt murmurs, and Regis laughs.

“I would,” he agrees.

“So, why don’t you find out instead of boring me with all the details?”

Regis pulls away from his throat, far enough that Geralt can meet his eyes again. He swallows at what he finds there. Amusement, yes, but also hunger, brighter than the moonlight reflecting in his eyes.

“A taste, first, I think,” Regis says in a low, cool voice, and then closes the space between them.

Geralt had forgotten the blood on his lip, but he remembers it when Regis catches him in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s wet and bruising, and Geralt is responding before he remembers he shouldn’t, fighting back the only way he knows how with the rest of him indisposed. He claws at him, bites at him, and the vampire laughs when Geralt catches his plump lower lip between his teeth and bites down. Regis gives his mouth one last darting swipe of the tongue before he is pulling away.

There’s a flare of color high on Regis’s cheeks and his ears are distinctly more pointed than they were five minutes ago, the sclera of his eyes gone red.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been bitten by a human before,” Regis tells him, leaning close like he’s divulging a secret. “It’s a rather exhilarating experience.”

“I’m all for a repeat experience,” Geralt quips, eyes narrowed. “Lean in just a little and we can see if I can manage to tear off your lips before you rip out my throat.”

“Please,” she whispers, and feels herself quiver like a taut bowstring when he touches her mouth gently, with the very tips of his fingers.

He smiles and leads her away, through the demons and goblins and fae that she came here to kill.

They make it as far as the parking lot before he is hitching her up the side of a gleaming Mercedes, hooking her legs around his shoulders, and hiking her skirts up over her thighs so he can duck his head beneath them. His fingers linger for a moment on the silver of the knives strapped securely to her thigh, and then he is reaching in, guiding her underwear to the side and getting his mouth on her, right where she wants it.

She must make some kind of noise, because he chuckles, tongue circling her clit in a slow, languid way that makes her think that he is savoring her, that he likes the taste of her on his tongue.And he must, because she knows what he is. Knows that just as he’s savoring the taste of her, he is eating her, feeding off of her want like the things that she hunts in the dark feed off of blood and marrow and souls. She knows, but it isn’t enough to stop her from tilting her head back, gasping for him, the distant wink of streetlights and stars so far away.

He makes her come with his mouth on her, with his fingers inside her, and even as she’s shaking around him, she knows that it isn’t enough. She wants more, wants to feel the heavy press of him inside around, wants to kiss his lips and taste herself on his tongue.

“Please,” she says, her thighs shaking, and he laughs, pulling away and easing her down, until her legs are looped around his waist instead of her shoulders. He reaches between them, and she knows what’s happening beneath her skirts, knows that he’s getting his cock out of his pants and pressing it against her, can feel it as he sinks slowly into her, the tight fit of it so sweet, so perfect that it makes her ache.

“You’re lovely,” he whispers, kissing her shoulders and fucking into her slow, a teasing stretch that makes her mouth water, makes her twitch.

“Is this what you wanted?” Hank jeers, one finger circling the rim of Connor’s hole. There’s a flush of angry blue across his cheeks. His hair is coming loose from its usually immaculate tail, curling against his forehead. His eyes are blue. His LED is not. “To lay back and take it? From a fucking machine?”

Connor whines, back arching as Hank dips the tip of his thumb inside, just enough to hold him open.

“That is it, isn’t it?” Hanks says softly. There’s a touch of triumph to his gaze as he fucks Connor open on his thumb. Something mean, too. Disdain, slowly unfurling in the curve of his lips. He shakes his head. “All this time, coming to this bar. Talking to me like you thought I was some kind of human, and you just wanted something like me to hold you up and take you apart.”

“No,” Connor gasps, but can’t help the twist of his hips when Hank adds another finger.

“No?” Hank says with a laugh. “Look at you.”

Connor’s cock jerks against his belly as Hank drags his pants the rest of the way down his thighs. They make it as far as his knees before they tangle, stuck on his shoes. His cheeks feel hot, and he- god, he wants to protest. Wants to say that Hank’s got it all wrong, that this is more. That he’s more.

But then Hank is flipping him over, until the arm of the couch is digging firmly into his belly, his ass high in the air. Hank pulls his fingers out, then leans over and spits, the cool slippery slide of the saliva trailing down the curve of his ass.

“All right, Connor,” he says. “This what you want? I’ll give it to you.”

No, Connor should say. It isn’t like that.

Instead, he says, “Please.”

Crackiest moment (excerpt):

“Did you just sneak into my house?” Stiles breathes, absurdly charmed.

Derek’s in his human disguise, everything dangerous about him hidden away from view, lurking just under the surface. He gives Stiles a look, and says, “Don’t be weird about it.”

He shuts the door behind him.

“I’ve got a nice monster knocking on my door just before the witching hour,” Stiles tells him playfully, making room for Derek to take a seat next to him. “How am I not supposed to be weird about that?”

Derek does something akin to rolling his eyes, the flames doing a little shimmy around the circumference of his eye sockets. He leans back against Stiles’s headboard, seemingly unconcerned that their sides are pressed together. Derek’s skin is very warm, human warm, and Stiles is all bones. He sucks up the warmth greedily.

“I’d say you make my heart pound, but well…” Stiles nods meaningfully to his chest, where if you look hard enough between the slots of his ribs, you can see the lump of muscle that once was his heart, pointedly not beating. “You know.”

“What’s the local legend about this thing?” Shane asks, hopping up onto the throne easily and spreading out, eyes on the night sky. He looks good. He always looks good, but Ryan likes him best like this, out here with the moonlight shining down on them and the camera catching all his best angles.

As Ryan watches, he blinks, and turns to look at Ryan, puzzled. “Ryan?”

Ryan clears his throat. “The locals say that if you make a wish while sitting on her throne, the witch will grant it.”

Shane gives him a wicked smile and hums a few bars of Genie in a Bottle. Ryan chokes out a laugh, crossing the space between them until he’s leaning up against the side of the throne himself.

Shane closes his eyes. “I wish, I wish with all my might, please dear god, let there be ghosts here this night.”

Ryan holds his breath.

“C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

All around them, the world is still.

Shane cracks an eye open and squints at him. “Did it work?”

“Jon?” someone asks, and Jon blinks.

Martin is standing before him. He’s wearing something out of another time, a costume of silken breeches with a well-cut waistcoat of a rich, opalescent blue. There’s a puffy cravat hugging his neck, and polished buckled shoes on his feet. Jon almost expects him to be wearing a wig, but his hair is the one thing that’s been left untouched, hanging loose around his chin.

“Martin?” Jon asks.

Martin seems to take him in, his eyes running slowly down Jon’s body, lingering at his wrists, his waist, his thighs. It’s a bold sort of move, one that Martin would never be half so blatant about if he were awake.

“You, er. Look nice,” Martin says, and Jon glances down at himself.

He’s sure that moments ago he’d been wearing the same thing he’d worn to the office, shabby coat, mostly clean shirt, a pair of nondescript trousers that didn’t have any stains. But now, he finds himself in a dress. The gown is long and brilliantly red, the skirts heavy around his thighs. There are embroidered patterns reminiscent of roses along the bodice and down the front of his petticoat.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, still staring. Experimentally, he moves his hips, and finds that the skirts swish obligingly with the movement.

“Yes, well,” Martin murmurs, cheeks flushing horribly. “You always did look rather good in red.”

“In red-” Jon repeats in horror. “Martin, I’m in a gown.”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt):

“Are you ever going to stop looking for me?” Akmazian asks him one night.

Ryan is tired. Akmazian is a shadowed figure in the dark that he tries not to look at too closely, because if he does, Akmazian will be gone.

“Maybe,” Ryan tells him, and turns over onto his side. Away from the shadow, the ghost.

The bed dips under the weight of a person who isn’t really there, and Ryan can feel Akmazian’s breath on the back of his neck, warm and damp.

“Don’t touch me,” Ryan says, and means, I don't want this to end yet.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, darlin',” Akmazian murmurs back, then drags his lips over the back of his neck anyway, just to be contrary. Ryan swallows, his throat dry, tongue thick in his mouth. He clenches his fingers in the sheets, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that his vision stains red behind his eyelids.

“Please,” Ryan says.

“You really should stop looking for me,” Akmazian tells him, fingers creeping across Ryan’s ribcage, mapping the architecture of his ribs.

“I know.”

“You’re never going to find me.”

Ryan laughs. “Never say never.”

There is silence behind him and then, “Ryan. Please. You’re hurting yourself.”

Ryan trembles a little when a hand lands on his hip, just this side of too solid.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re hurting the stars.”

Ryan is silent for a moment. Then, “I just miss you.”

A sigh.

“I know,” Akmazian murmurs, and leans over to place a kiss on Ryan’s forehead. “I miss you too.”

Ryan opens his eyes, turns to look, and like always, Akmazian is gone.

“Look,” Potter says, audibly slurring. “I’ve had an idea.”

Draco crosses his arms. “And what, pray tell, is this idea of yours, Potter?”

Potter leans forward, using a hand to prop himself up, until he’s well into Draco’s personal space. He smells like beer and whiskey, and his cheeks and jaw are more beard than stubble.

“Break your curse with me,” he breathes, a hand settling atop Draco’s blanket-clad knee.

Draco swallows. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“No, look,” Potter says, leaning in even closer, eyes a bit wild. “We can just… you know.”

“No, Potter,” Draco tells him. “I don’t know.”

But he does. He really does.

“You know,” Potter says again. “Shag it out.”

“I think that you’re confusing things again,” Draco says tiredly. He sets the book on the nightstand next to him. “Remember the terms of the curse? Love, Potter. Not sex.”

Potter’s nose wrinkles. “But sex is part of love. Usually, anyway. It’ll work, I know it.”

“It won’t,” Draco insists, slapping Potter’s hand away when it begins to wander up his thigh. “Do you really think that I didn’t shag my wife before she left me? Because I did. We tried for years. Years, Potter. Trust me, if the curse were going to break because of a fuck, it would have happened well before now.”

Potter blinks at him, his eyes wide. There’s a ruddy flush on his cheeks, and Draco’s not sure if he likes it.

“We could at least try,” Potter says, almost gently. He doesn’t touch Draco again, but he looks like he wants to, hand trembling where it lays on the bedspread.

It feels like there’s glass in Draco’s throat. He is so, so tempted. Here is what he wanted - or at least part of it - Potter in his bed begging to fuck him, and he’s going to have to send him away.

“I think you should leave,” he tells him, and Potter’s mouth shuts with a click.

Favorite lines (excerpt):

“Relax,” he croons, stroking her fingers before he pulls away. “Your secret is safe with me. Most of this crowd knows that I’m not on speaking terms with that side of my family. They won’t suspect you because of me.”

Her face is flushed, either from rage or humiliation. Possibly both.

“So you-”

“Yes,” he says, fingers dropping to caress the fabric of her gown, swirling a thumb around the sweeping petals of an embroidered rose. His gaze is sly, a bit predatory when he glances back up at her. “I know what you have under this pretty skirt of yours.”

Rey’s breath catches, and she feels something- a slow trickle of heat seeping in to pool around her navel. She shifts, thighs sliding together, and hopes that he can’t smell her.

“Just as I know exactly what you’re doing right now,” she tells him in a hard whisper, jerking away from his grip on her elbow.

His eyes widen, affecting a look of innocence - a ‘who me?’ - that isn’t quite as effective when his lips are also curling up into a slow, pleased smirk.

“And what exactly am I doing?” he asks, his eyes laughing at her.

She glares at him. That seems to be enough of a reply, because he chuckles before taking possession of her arm again and pulling her smoothly towards the dance floor. Once they’ve reached the edge of it, he stops, dropping her elbow in favor of dipping into a low, courtly bow.

He looks up at her from under heavy lids, his hair sweeping forward to frame his face. “May I have this dance?”

The dance floor is crowded, full to the brim of masked people sweeping by in jewel-bright dresses and dark suits. She knows not to - knows that this place is a lot like fae courts of old. You don’t eat the food, you don’t drink the wine, and you definitely don’t dance.

But she’s already drank the wine, so she might as well dance.

The ship wrecks several hundred miles off of the coast of Karnaca. The storm that ends them is a rare sort, fiercer than most, a huge bank of dark clouds that seems to come from the void itself, blooming on the horizon like a warning. The lightning cracks the world asunder, thunder deafening, but it's the wind and waves that will always be a ship’s downfall.

Corvo watched the wave approach, saw its frothing white caps and the way it had stretched, higher and higher, until it loomed over the ship.

They never had a chance, and by the time the wave came crashing down, Corvo was already holding his breath.

Much of what he remembers after are mere snippets: the gulping suck of the water around him, broken pieces of the ship spinning by along with those of the crew who were unlucky enough to be caught by the ship’s pull, sucked down into the void, devoured by the whale god himself. He remembers his first gasp of air once he’d surfaced, the tang of brine and salt heavy on his tongue as wave after wave battered his body.

He doesn’t think that most of the crew survived the first few minutes much less the whole night, and he is certainly alone when the sun blossoms on the horizon hours later, clinging to a piece of ship the size of his torso and kicking relentlessly towards the dawn.

Corvo grew up on the coast, his hair stiff with salt from the ocean breeze. He grew up in and out of the water, hauling cargo or gutting fish on the docks. He’s familiar with the ocean - how the pull of the tides work, which days its best to avoid the dock, how to escape the sea’s wrath when a riptide or an undercurrent tries its damndest to drown you.

So he knows that his chances of making it to land are slim. But Corvo has always been stubborn, his legs have always been strong, and his story is far from finished.

Stiles buys a house in Virginia. It’s a modest thing close to Quantico, but not too close, tucked away into the heart of the wooded Appalachians. The bones of the house is all stonework and sturdy dark wood, a rickety wraparound porch bracketing the house on all sides. The first thing that he’d bought for it were two overpriced rocking chairs he’d gotten from the nearest Cracker Barrel.

Over the course of a year, he fills the house with things. A soft, dark gray sofa. Several solid end tables. A pair of emerald lamps he gets from an antique shop. A moss-green throw that is warm as a hug when it’s wrapped around his shoulders in the dead of winter. His living room is a bit too mountain man chic, but he likes the way that it looks when he’s coming home from a long day at the academy, warm and inviting.

He gets his bed set from a woodworker a couple dozen miles down the road, a man with a gruff bristled gray face and a warm smile, who trades Stiles the custom set for some warding and a couple bottles of what he calls, ‘miracle elixir.’ The set is sturdy mahogany, a pair of wolves carved across the top of the curving headboard, runes filling the gaps between them. The chest of drawers and dresser are just as solid, and Stiles has to hire movers to help him get everything back to the house.

The bulky rednecks decked out in worn flannel that help him with it carefully avoid looking at the runes of the headboard, their eyes skittering away from the carvings like frightened rabbits. They exchange apprehensive looks when they see the herbs drying over the sink in his kitchen, but to their credit, stay quiet and hightail it out of the place when he pays them. Here in the Appalachian backwoods, no one talks about magic, but everyone knows it exists.

Stiles has people over every once in a while - flies his dad and Scott in from California, has Lydia drive down from Boston, or Kira from North Carolina - but mostly, he’s alone. It’s a strange thing to get used to, the silence of the nights out here, where the night sky is bright and clear enough to see the stars above him, not a hint of light pollution to be seen, and the trees rustling in a quiet wind is almost louder than the hoots and hollers of the local wildlife.

He’d thought it would be lonely, and to be fair, sometimes it is.

Some nights he comes home and collapses back onto his sofa, and would do anything to be right down the road from Scott and Melissa and his dad again. He has days where he craves Melissa’s pozole or his dad’s meatloaf so badly that he can taste the heat of it on his tongue.

But mostly, the quiet is nice.

He cooks himself soups that simmer in the slow cooker while he’s at the academy and roasts that he makes on the weekends. He experiments with food the way he never used to back in Beacon Hills, where he had his dad’s heart to worry about if he made anything, and fast food which was easier to grab when he didn’t. He takes a world tour through his kitchen - homemade pierogi, hearty paella, steaming pirozhki, spicy-smelling curries, and hand rolled sushi. The first time that he makes his own bread in the ancient oven that came with the house, the smell of it coming fresh out of the oven is so good that he nearly cries.

It’s three winters into living there before he hears a scratching at his door in the middle of the night, and when he goes to investigate, finds a large black wolf on his doorstep.

It’s favoring one of its paws, dark fur matted on one side of its head where he can dimly make out a sluggishly bleeding gash. It blinks at him, eyes glowing a bright, familiar blue, and Stiles spends a minute watching it before he smiles and steps aside.

Fic goals: Hey Heather, it was only 800 words, but you did technically write something original. Now, let’s do something original that’s a little longer. And while we’re at it, let’s do something novel length.

#heather says what #heather writes #2019 #new year's memes

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rikacain · 4 years

Text

you are the only thing (in any room you’re ever in)

Man, when whoever wrote sensory depression, I don’t think this is what they expected. Fairly sure it’s a kink thing. Instead, they get a Stranger Things fusion.

Many thanks to @the_lady_smaell and drelfina for lookin’ this through.

Title from “Starlings” by Elbow. what a name. what a song.

summary: Kakashi is far too distracted to do his job properly.

read it on: ao3

Kakashi was adrift.

He knew where he was, what he was in: a tube made of cold metal, with a hatch that could only be opened from outside. Yet his body would not recognise his upright figure held buoyant within, the perfluorocarbon fluid filling his lungs where air should have been; the boundaries of the tube from the darkness surrounding him.

For all of his calmness, his rationality, his memories of being forced feet first into the tank and plunging into a liquid heavier than air but breathable all the same, Kakashi’s body was convinced it was adrift in a boundless, empty darkness where no one could be found.

But there was someone and some things that could be found. Why else would they put him and the rest of the lot into the tubes, if not to reach out and to visualise? It was not an exercise foreign to Kakashi, having done so, so many times over: a locked office as good as unlocked, a document confidential and otherwise inaccessible spread open for his perusal.

The location of a man fleeing for his life, despite his otherwise meticulously planned escape route. As he was dragged back to this very facility, to ensure his mouth remained shut.

Kakashi could do it again, here and now. It was what they wanted him to do, after all. He could reach out - he could think of, could want, could yearn - and surely, surely, he’d be there. A flash of hair, brown in the brilliant sunlight, a wide smile -

The slightest of pressure across his throat. A reminder.

“Hound.” The voice echoed, reverberating into the darkness and unto itself. “Your mission."

Slowly, reluctantly, Kakashi nodded. The pressure lifted, but the collar remained - a heavy presence that he had once been free of.

He reached out into the darkness, not for that person, but for something else. The tower, they wanted the tower: white against the brilliant azure sky. The tower, with its offices both public and private; the tower, where Iruka also -

The band tightened yet again, more harshly. Kakashi coughed, the foreign heaviness of liquid squeezed out of his lungs - and seeping back into it with a sharp intake of breath.

Message received. He pulled himself away from thoughts of Iruka’s desk, that desk cluttered with documents and knickknacks. A mug declaring him the best father, a clay figure made by clumsy hands that attempted valiantly to look like a dolphin. A desk indistinguishable from the sea of a hundred other desks, a multitude of other workers who might have been more important than Iruka.

(But not to Kakashi.)

Instead, he thought of hallways and corridors, walls shimmering into watery existence before him like reflections upon the surface of a lake. Thought his way up towards the fifth floor of the tower, and meandered his way past empty rooms and blurry windows.

Up into the mayor’s office, past locked doors and alert guards, and into a meeting Shimura Danzo would have never been privy to, if not for Kakashi.

Within the room, Sarutobi Hiruzen sat. His image wavered like ripples cast by a stone across a pond; his voice crackled like static as he spoke. His voice would be repeated outside, emanating from a speaker, for the benefit of the men who pushed him into this very tube.

“Thank you for bringing this issue to my attention,” Sarutobi was saying to the other person within the room. The figure remained blurry, despite Kakashi’s best attempts - interspersed with static and distortion, stripes of shifting colours splashing and stretching thin across the figure. Sarutobi, the paranoid bastard, had probably built the walls of the tower with something that could keep psionic intent out.

Even so, he couldn’t keep Kakashi out entirely. Something Danzo was surely grudgingly pleased about. It had likely rankled, that the various agents that were loyal to him were unable to penetrate through Sarutobi’s defences - that he has to depend on Kakashi to pierce through.

Still, Kakashi was here now. Despite his escape, despite his powers - Kakashi was here doing Danzo’s bidding.

He dragged his attention back to the scene before him.

“It seems as though more has been going on under my nose than I had known,” Sarutobi sighed. World-weary and old; Iruka had talked about him as though he were a father figure, a mentor and Kakashi could see why Iruka considered him so. He wondered if he had allowed Iruka to bring him here, to this very room like he wanted to from the first day - would things have been different? “I had thought… no matter. There is only looking forward.”

That much was true. Kakashi breathed out, the rush of liquid cool against his teeth. He had all the time to regret when they shot him full of tranquilizers and brought him in.

Then the other figure said, “Hiruzen-sama.”

Their voice sliced past the static and feedback of the void, clear as a clarion’s call. Kakashi jerked and turned to look at them - turned to look at Iruka, seated on the chaise.

Irony that Root wouldn’t let him reach out for Iruka, in the hopes of making Kakashi languish in worry over whether Iruka was in their grasps - a hostage for Kakashi to surrender all his concessions. Kakashi had known that Iruka was safe, yet there was always the thought that perhaps he had failed. Perhaps Iruka had been smarter than he should have been. Perhaps.

Yet here Iruka sat before him now, in the safest place he could be. Kakashi took in all the details he could: Iruka’s ponytail tied more messily than usual, the clothes he must have slept in, the hoarse cadence of his voice.

There was a flurry of activity outside of the tube, but Kakashi could not find it in himself to care, not with Iruka formed in crystal clear clarity before him, as though he was in the tube with Kakashi himself. Not with his eyes: bright and piercing and still so very alive.

“About Kakashi,” he was saying. There was the distant sound of a lightbulb whining and shattering as it shorted out - as Kakashi processed his own ineffable joy, his uplifting relief. Iruka got out, Iruka was safe; Iruka remembered him even though Kakashi locked him in a basement to spare him from Root’s agents. “Please, Hiruzen-sama - “

“Iruka,” the old man said, but Iruka barrelled on, much like how he did when Kakashi threatened to use his powers against him, how he pushed him away the first few days of their acquaintance.

“He wants to leave,” Iruka said, earnest and sincere. His voice echoed within the tube, outside of the tube, words overlapping in close canon. “He needs to leave, he didn’t - doesn’t want to be there anymore -“

Yes, yes - that was all Kakashi could think - I want to leave this darkness and hold you in the sunlight, I want to walk you to that desk and walk you home, I want -

There was a building cacophony in the background, of shouts to drain the tube, to stop, to disconnect - but Kakashi was damned if he’d let go so easily now that Iruka was in front of him by sheer happenstance.

He raised his hands towards the gentle line of where Iruka’s jaw should be, desperate for a single touch. The bar slammed heavy against his throat - he choked - but his hand remained outstretched, raised. Forward, forward - until his palm came to rest gently against Iruka’s cheek.

Kakashi would never know if the warmth beneath his skin was of his own imagining - or if his yearning was so strong as to connect to Iruka through the void.

It would have been enough - it was enough - but Iruka’s own hand raised, touching the spot where Kakashi’s hand was, involuntary; it brushed against Kakashi’s own.

Against all odds, he raised his head. Turned away from Sarutobi to where Kakashi hovered, in that room he was not in. And he asked, breathlessly vulnerable and hopeful, “Kakashi?”

The heart seized with hope is like a rope pulled taut. Kakashi could only press his hand more firmly against Iruka’s face, cupping it so. The shouts were louder, the bar about to asphyxiate him - but there was only the two of them in that void. Only that mattered.

Iruka’s eyes widened, then set in determination - the same determination he faced Mizuki down with before he even knew Kakashi was there to protect him.

“We’re coming,” he said fiercely. “We’re coming, we’ll find you - wait for me - “

Gladly, Kakashi said, because he would wait for Iruka even if the corruption from the other side spread slick across the portal and into their own realm, and after that. If he couldn’t go to him, he would wait - he would -

He kept his eyes on Iruka even as the hatch opened and bathed the other in a ray of fluorescent light, drowning his image out from Kakashi’s sight. As he was dragged, wet and gasping, out of the tube, and thrown in front of Danzo, vomiting clear fluid as his body desperately took in air.

Danzo looked impassively down at him. Kakashi bared his teeth in a mirthless grin in reply. Iruka knew - that meant Sarutobi knew, and Sarutobi would act.

There was little time left for Root to act. The twist of Danzo’s lips told Kakashi that he knew so.

“I think that you might just be expendable after all, Hound,” he said softly. “Prep him for crossing.”

The thought of being sent over to the corrupted universe would have been a threat, once - but Iruka was coming. Kakashi would wait.

They would make it out fine.

#kakairu #kakairu mini bingo 2019 #fic

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oldtvandcomics · 4 years

Text

Five BBC Merlin fic ideas

I seem to be making a little round back in the Merlin fandom. It’s still fun, thank you all for existing. Anyway, I’ve thought to contribute for once with the random fic ideas I’ve accumulated over the course of the last five years or so. Here’s a list, feel free to add your own or snatch up ones you like or whatever. (It would be nice if you’d give me a call if you do, because I obviously would like to read any of these.)

1) AU where Merlin is a lot more like Merlin in The Adventures of Sir Lancelot in that he doesn’t really use magic, just science-based tricks, and is running around in Camelot randomly throwing around smoke bombs for the drama of it. Don’t get me wrong, he still has magic, and he still keeps it a secret, but after a while, people are so used to him doing tricks that he can do actual magic in front of them, and they’ll still think he’s only messing with them. (Also Brian is a thing because Brian is cool.)

2) The random people left over from the Old Religion, you know, the ones Merlin is SUPPOSED to be protecting finally realize that he won’t tell Arthur. Following my headcanon, because the magic link is so strong, doing something that risks hurting their relationship is on the same level as deliberately cutting off his finger. So they send someone to help him.

3) Some kind of secret agent who travels around between fictional universes ends up in the BBC Merlin one. They have a look around and go “oh, look, an AU where Merlin the Magician is younger than King Arthur and also his manservant and they’re in love. Ok, that’s weird. But don’t worry, I’ve seen weirder”, but somehow completely miss out on the information that magic is outlawed and Merlin’s identity a secret, so they accidentally end up outing him when they ask for something magic-related.

4) A Good Omens fusion crossover! I’m begging you, people. The one I keep talking about, where Merlin is the actual original Antichrist is actually about the original version of the mythos. BBC Merlin has got a very different potential, but still JUST IMAGINE MORGANA AND MERLIN SNEAKING AROUND TRYING TO HIDE THEIR MAGIC WHILE ALSO BATTLE EACH OTHER TO DEATH, MEANWHILE CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE ARE ALSO SNEAKING AROUND TRYING TO KEEP THEIR RELATIONSHIP A SECRET!!! (Which doesn’t work, because they’re idiots. Absolutely everyone knows except for Heaven, Hell and probably Arthur.)

5) They somehow manage to get ACTUALLY rid of magic, as consequence of which the magic creatures disappear, the land starts to whither and the people who have magic fall in a coma or simply just vanish. (This is like the only one of the list I might actually write.)

#bbc merlin #merlin #fanfic #fanfic prompts #crossovers #i also would warmly recommend to everyone The Adventures of Sir Lancelot #it should be floating around on the Internet somewhere #as it is older #i've downloaded all the episodes from Dailymotion little over a year ago

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faejilly · 5 years

Text

#WIP Wednesday

so uh

I overwhelmed my WIP tracker, and I managed to narrow it down, but I’m not quite sure what to try and work on next? (Suggestions?) Beyond the assorted prompt fills which will hopefully cooperate again some day:

adorned (sole DA2 WIP atm, Adelaide Hawke/Sebastian Vael & the journey of Meghan Vael’s locket thru the years)

Adelaide gestured down at the table. "If you'd like to join us?"

Aveline shook her head. "Is Vael here?"

Leandra clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Sebastian refused our hospitality and went back to his chambers. Silly boy, he clearly needed to rest, and we have plenty of room."

Aveline sighed, the line of her shoulders slumping down in something that looked a bit like relief.

"Were you worried about Sebastian?" Adelaide almost smiled, tried to ignore the twist of regret and worry of her own, that Sebastian never stayed. "Can I remind you of that next time you pretend you're annoyed at him?"

AND NOW FOR SOME SHADOWHUNTERS!

i am for you (epistolary!fluff, had an actual update schedule, has people waiting for an update; clearly I should work on this one) Clary POV for this chapter:

It wasn't as if Alec was completely different, he hadn't turned into some weird pod-person version of himself or something... and yet he kind of had. He was softer around the edges than she'd ever seen, the careful way he spoke coming across as warm and studied rather than cold and calculating, though she wasn't at all sure she could tell anyone what the difference was, beyond the tendency to blush just a little every time Magnus smiled at him.

Which was always.

and wishing is having (sequel to and breathing is wishing re: mer!Alec)

Now that he knows about it, Magnus can feel the magic beneath Alec's skin, an extra echo behind the usual steady thrum of Angelic blood. It rises and falls, just like waves, and when he wakes up the next morning to warm golden silence, he listens to the way it blends with Alec's breath, with his heart-beat, all three slow and steady with sleep.

He wonders how he missed it.

He wonders what else the Curse is hiding from them.

kisses are a better fate than wisdom (a series of firsts; Malec Relationship Milestones... & smut)

The first time Magnus believes that Alec is not and never will be afraid of his magic is when he's doing something almost mundane with it: stirring the pasta sauce from across the room because he's still trying to find the colander. If he doesn't know where it is he can't summon it, and it's not where he thought he put it. He's pretty sure that's Alec's fault, being all gorgeous and focused on Magnus almost immediately after dinner the night before.

He turns around to ask Alec if he remembers, and he catches Alec staring at the glint of magic still lingering around his fingers as he keeps the spell going, and it's very similar to the look on Alec's face when they're playing pool, when he's trying to decide if he wants to finish that game or start on another entirely different sort. Magnus snaps his fingers to turn the heat off under the pots and moves them all into the fridge; they'll deal with food later.

Alec makes a lovely little noise in the back of his throat, almost a whine, and oh, Magnus wonders how he'd never noticed that before, how he'd been so prepared for suspicion that he hadn't seen it was the exact opposite.

if broken hearts were whole (soulmates & everybody lives! AU)

It was beyond strange to just walk up to the New York Institute. The perimeter guard scowled at Magnus when he stepped out of his portal, and the guard at the door looked vaguely queasy as she waved him through, but neither of them tried to stop him or ordered him an escort or anything. Magnus had considered calling, as the whole soulmate thing hadn't progressed enough to give him a sense of direction or anything, but he'd decided the surprise might be fun.

Also he was still weirdly nervous about calling Alec, even though he knew that was ridiculous. He knew that as soon as he saw Alec again all his worries would disappear to be replaced by an ache in his chest and a tug in the center of his palm pulling them closer together; telling himself that didn't help with the nerves now.

Or perhaps Magnus had just wanted to know if it would really work, if Alec putting him in their computer and making an announcement in their Operations Centers would really mean Magnus could just... walk right in, all by himself.

He could.

untitled BAU fusion fic (bb!BAU agent, Malec-outsider-POV... I’ve been flailing about this one a bunch on twitter, but didn’t use a tag or anything so I can find my tweets again? because that would’ve been sensible)

A few months later, Fuller's team caught a housecleaner, someone killing junkies and prostitutes, wiping away all the lives he didn't approve of... a housecleaner who it seemed, now that they were looking, had probably been working in San Diego for years. He’d only caught the SDPD's attention now because he'd gotten a couple of tourists who'd been trolling for prostitutes rather than his usual homeless types; if he hadn’t made a mistake, they probably still wouldn’t have caught on.

Lightwood joined them on the jet.

Fuller hadn't realized that he'd gotten used to team-leader Lightwood, who was fair and steady and supportive beneath that cool imposing self-control, until he walked into CPD behind SSA Lightwood and saw the entire precinct flinch at the way a Fed was staring at them.

untitled arranged marriage fic (I tweet-threaded an idea for this and am now trying to write it? We’ll see. Some day. Hopefully.) This bit has nothing to do with Malec or anything, it’s from the prologue, but I love any and all variations on Lydia & Alec as friends. Who get drunk together, apparently!

"I was engaged once." Lydia's eyes are glassy, her shoulders slumped, and Alec's heart aches in sympathetic agony. "He died. Two years ago today."

"I'm sorry." Alec knows it isn't much, isn't really anything, but it's all he's got.

"So'm I." She sighs. "I couldn't bear staying in our Institute without him."

"So you transferred to the Inquisitor's Office."

Lydia does a nod-shrug gesture and clinks her glass against his, somehow managing not to spill.

"I am never going to fall in love again." Her head ducks down and she stares at him from under her eyebrows. "No offense, if you were thinking about something."

"Nope." Alec shakes his head sadly. For about twice as long as usual before he manages more words. "I'm never gonna get to fall in love at all." He lets his gaze linger on the cute bartender he's been trying not to stare at too much all night, but the man's got a very tight t-shirt on and it's been very difficult.

Lydia's head tilts as she turns it to follow his line of sight, and she sighs out a long quiet oooooohhh. "That sucks." She pouts a little on his behalf, and it's unexpectedly adorable.

"Yeah." He taps his glass against hers in agreement this time, and then she waves at the bartender to pay for their next round herself.

#wip wednesday #wip posting #jilly spam #I dunno #I should be writing #something?#shadowhunters #dragon age #da2 #malec #malecandmoremalecholyshitI'mpredictable #f!hawke/sebastian too #also not a surprise #further adventures in WTF brain

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nitewrighter · 5 years

Note

Short fic prompt for either Alt!Rei &Talon!Aedan or Canon!Reidan about that post you reblogged wherein the protag is secretly pining over their Archnemesis that is pining them down, please? :3c

(Referring back to this post)

Let’s go with Talon!Aedan because I really do like that Moira concept tentacle rig I gave him.

----

It was a cool night in Venice as Aedan rematerialized from his fade atop a high balcony.

“I still find it ridiculous that they’re making me do this,” he muttered into his comm.

“You can’t hide up in your lab forever, Twiggy,” Seye spoke in the comm in his ear, “Sooner or later, we all have to do field work.”

“’Patrol,’” Aedan scoffed, “If they’re that afraid of Overwatch infiltration, they should start with the grunts. An enforcer would do perfectly well, rather than have me getting all this low-tide stink on myself.”

“You’re more subtle than an Enforcer?” Seye didn’t seem convinced of his own answer.

“This is to keep me humble, isn’t it?” said Aedan.

“You’re Moira’s clone. I don’t think humility’s in your DNA,” Seye’s chuckle was slightly static on the comm.

Aedan just huffed again and leaned against the guardrail of the balcony. “Hell, even a sniper---” he cut himself off as his vision registered the slightest bit of movement from rooftop to rooftop.

“Aedan?” Seye spoke in his earpiece and Aedan perched atop the guardrail, watching the skyline before catching that movement again. A flicker of dim maroon feather-shaped light, that disappeared against the purple of the light pollution-stained sky.

“Oh hello,” said Aedan, leaping, fading, and rematerializing on another balcony on the opposite side of the canal before letting his biotic rig’s four tentacles spring out from his back and using them to easily climb up onto the roof.

“Twiggy, if you see anything you have to call it in--” Seye started as Aedan scanned the rooftops, his feet floating above the ground as he used two of the tentacles to hold himself up at a higher angle. Aedan squinted. Maybe just a trick of the light--No, there it was again.

“I’ve got this,” said Aedan, the cement of the roof buckling and cracking from the pressure as he pushed off into a high leap with the biotic tentacles before landing on another roof. He had a bead on her now, no amount of tactical black could hide the slight silhouette of valkyrie wingframes.

“Aedan, if it’s Overwatch, call it in!” Seye said but Aedan clicked off his earpiece and started chasing. The wings disappeared against the night, but they stayed in place just a little too long, even if she was gone by the time Aedan reached that rooftop, he’d still have a visual on her next time she used them. The biotic rig pushed off once more and he landed on the gravelly roof of a small cathedral, finding... nothing.

Nothing but an open skylight.

Aedan grinned and faded, dropping in through the skylight to the interior of the cathedral, exploding in a cloud of smoke on the floor, and reforming on one knee before rising to his feet. He liked churches, in his own way. He always felt his very existence was a little blasphemous, so it was always a bit of a thrill walking along the long aisle between the pews.

“I know you’re in here,” he said, his eyes flicking around. The cathedral was dead silent in response, only the reverberation of his own voice answering him.

“You can’t hide from me,” he went on, stepping up onto the altar and giving a cursory glance to particularly gory crucifix that oversaw its center, “There’s biotics in your blood and nanites in mine. My cells are your cells’ natural predators.”

That was only partially true, he knew that--both biotics and nanites were only as good as the multicellular organism they were a part of, you couldn’t say either was a natural predator of the other any more than you could say protons were predators of electrons.

An audible scoff echoed through the church and Aedan’s head swiveled around, trying to find its source. The tentacles of his biotic rig instinctively riled up ready to fight when he turned to see a winged silhouette, but he eased up slightly seeing it was just a statue featuring three angels framing a Madonna and child in admiration. He turned on his heel and moved to start checking if perhaps she might be hiding in the confessionals when he was impacted hard by a kick from the side. Not three angel statues. Just two. Well played. He grunted as the impact knocked him against the pews, the tentacles of his biotic rig catching himself and turning him towards his aggressor.

“Rei,” he said with a smile.

“Aedan,” he couldn’t even get a clear visual on the girl in front of him before she attacked again, drawing twin tantos from two sheaths at her back and mercilessly slashing at him, the tentacles of his biotic rig only barely managing to block her blows. If he could get one to latch onto her, he could use the biotic rig to suck the energy right out of her, but she wouldn’t let that happen either, so all that was exchanged was a dizzing series of slashes and parries as they moved back and forth around the cathedral. He could make out more of her as they fought--the fierce eyes, dark gray, but appearing black in the dimness of the cathedral, the feathery hair, just as much a shadow as the rest of her, and the valkyrie wings, bobbing along with her as she fought, sometimes spreading in a fierce wingbeat to knock off a flanking tentacle.

A winged angel and a demon with creeping tendrils fighting in a church, Aedan thought as he blocked another blow from Rei’s tanto, A bit obvious, symbolism-wise.

“You’re faster now,” said Rei, “New rig?”

“Some upgrades,” said Aedan, “Still being a sword-wielding relic, I see.”

“Well maybe if your technology could keep up with actual skill--” Rei started.

One of his tentacles caught Rei’s arm. He nearly started sucking the life from her but caught a hard fist to the collarbone and was knocked away.

“You could have stabbed me there,” said Aedan, feeling at his bruised collarbone, “What’s the matter? Didn’t want to spill blood on holy ground?”

Rei snarled and lunged at him. Careless. He grinned and caught the chestplate of her valkyrie wings’ rig with the pincers of his biotic tentacle before pivoting on his heel, hoisting her off her feet, and slamming her hard against one of the cathedral’s support columns. With a cry she brought up her tantos, but two more tentacles pinned her arms over her head and another tentacle pinned one of the wings of her valkyrie rig against the column as well to keep her from zipping out of his grip. She struggled against the grip of the biotic rig, but her movements slowed as the biotic rig started sucking the energy out of her. A ragged grunt fell out of her.

“Poor little Rei,” Aedan cooed, leaning close to her, “Not as strong as daddy or as clever as mummy... making both their mistakes...”

Rei grunted again as the biotic rig sucked more energy from her. “Poor...ngh...” she winced at the biotic grip, “Poor... little Aedan... knows... he’ll never be a real boy....but just... does what Talon tells him... or else they’ll make one that does.”

Aedan visibly flinched at her words and the biotic grip shut off briefly. “You--” he started.

Rei took advantage of the cessation in the biotic grip and kicked him hard in the solarplexus, sending him tumbling back hard, bouncing against the tiles as Rei dropped down from the column. Aedan was coughing from the blow when Rei impacted him again with a knee to the chest, keeping him on the ground. He brought up a tentacle to seize her arm and she slashed it off with her tanto.

Aedan cried out--even if it was only a part of a biotic rig, the fact was that his tentacles were, even if artificially, a part of his nervous system. He felt their loss like losing an arm. She kneed him in the stomach this time, further knocking the wind out of him as she stabbed another tentacle into the floor tiles with her other tanto. He couldn’t seem to get his breath in, between the wails of the pain. He couldn’t fade out from underneath her. His eyes flicked up to her, furious, but he only found pity in her face. Just a second, he thought, Just a second to breathe, that’s all I need---

But he found Rei’s tanto pressed against his neck.

“...so they really might do that to you,” said Rei quietly, looking down at him, something seemed to shift in her. Something he didn’t like. No. Not more pity.

“You know,” said Rei, “If... if you’re really only doing what they say because you think they’ll destroy you and replace you otherwise... you might be safer with us.”

“Talon is building the only world I can exist in,” Aedan snarled back at her.

“So Talon decides who gets to exist?” said Rei, her face unchanging.

Aedan’s breath drew in short. He was going to tell her off but couldn’t quite find the words. “Overwatch--” he started.

But Rei was suddenly yanked off of him by a graviton charge and cried out as she was hit by a charged fusion blast, knocking her flat on the ground a few feet from Aedan, unconscious. Aedan bolted up to an upright seated position to see Seye, gauntlet still extended, looking at him.

“You okay?” said Seye.

“Yeah,” said Aedan, looking at the unconscious Rei.

“I told you to call it in,” said Seye.

“I really thought I had her....” said Aedan.

Seye rolled his eyes, “Let me be the egotistical ass next time, okay?” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Okay,” said Aedan, yanking the tanto out of his tentacle and getting up to his feet. He glanced back at Rei, “So... if we’ve captured an Overwatch agent--”

“You haven’t captured anything,” a voice spoke in both their comms with so much feedback both Seye and Aedan winced.

“Marti--” Seye started.

“Shut up. I have two snipers in the wings fixed on your heads. Aedan can fade, Seye, but you can’t.”

“Come on, Marts,” Seye grinned, “You know you can’t kill me.”

“No, I can’t,” said Marti in their comms, the feedback slightly reducing, “Jaime though? Jaime has no problem killing you. Rei’s a part of my team, Seye. She’s a part of Jaime’s team too.”

“I see,” said Seye, looking at Aedan.

“So I suggest you both back away from my teammate,” said Marti.

Both Aedan and Seye put their hands up and backed away from Rei.

“Samir?” Marti’s voice sounded in their comms.

A blue portal suddenly materialized near Rei and a masked figure in a light blue hood materialized out of it. He scooped up Rei in his arms, hauled her over his shoulder, and disappeared once more in the blue portal, which disappeared shortly after him.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Seye,” said Marti.

“I’m not the one running with her tail between her legs after her teammate got taken down,” said Seye. Aedan pressed his hand to his forehead. If Seye’s ego got them both taken out by sniper fire...

“You’ve had to scrub just as much of your share of missions, Seye,” Marti responded in their comms, “The difference between us is Talon put someone replaceable under your command. Overwatch didn’t do that to me.”

With a fizzle of static Marti was out of their comms and Seye huffed.

“She didn’t mean that--” Seye said to Aedan.

“I know,” Aedan cut him off, “Just... shut up. Don’t... mention it.”

A long silence passed between them.

“Call it in next time--” Seye started.

“I know,” said Aedan.

#reidan #marsey

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aparticularbandit · 4 years

Text

State of Bandit Fic

it’s been a couple of months since i posted one of these and i’d like to have one done by the end of the year SO here we go. under a read more for length. my apologies, mobile users.

plans for the rest of the year:

roisa secret santa goes up next monday. i still don’t know what i’ll post on the monday after that. i have another chapter ish of falling written, but idk if that’s a direction i really want to go with that novel. maybe, maybe not. idk.

word count maintained 2k during november with only a few hiccups. this month the first couple of weeks i had multiple days where word count was less than 1k. i’ve gotten it back up to 1k and think that the sudden jump from main focus on roisa hp au to main focus on rss was part of the issue there (when i go and make sure i get 1k in the hp au, i tend to hit 2k again, so there’s that). i plan to try and maintain the 1k to the end of the year with the hope that i reach a total of 400k written this year (at the end of november, i was at approximately 381.5k - give or take a few - which means i only needed to write 18.5k this month. i have at least 11.5k in various other non-roisa hp au projects from this month, not including any word count from second writes, and i know i’ve done at least another 1k (probably 2k or more) in the roisa hp au - so i should be hitting that if i keep up the 1k minimum).

that Christmas project i said i started last year and wanted to finish this year won’t be finished in time for Christmas most likely so my apologies. :/ it just takes more mental thought for less word count and my focus right now is on rss. sorry.

plans for next year:

i’m very tentative on these, but this is what i’ve been thinking about (and may or may not actually do):

focus on five days a week at 1-2k with saturdays and sundays off - still plan on keeping word count on one of those days but giving the other one for second write for the monday update because i’ve found that trying to do the second write and final edits and get 1k written is really hard for me to do, especially with longer updates. so i’m not going to push myself for that.

this also potentially allows me an additional day to spend editing or drafting other projects - like the roisa hp au or mexican stud or stuff like that which i want to be finished and go through another edit and possible betaing before posting - and while that might not be immediately, i like that space being open and available.

focus on finishing the rough draft of the first book of the roisa hp au and hopefullly get it through a second draft and betaing and polishing so that maybe it starts getting posted in july or august.

i was thinking july but we’ll see. i don’t want to lock myself into something like i did with ACAL this year, and while i like having it set up for the beginning of the school year, i’m not sure that’s enough time. i haven’t done this kind of editing/drafting/betaing before on a project - with the exception of noir fic, which...hasn’t been posted and got stalled in the fourth draft.

i also think that this would be in place of the monday updates instead of a separate update as i originally planned. because this first book is currently 16 chapters long, that would give me multiple months to focus on other projects while they’re updating - and that time off was something i really wanted in july and ended up getting mostly in october and november. so we’ll see.

possibly hosting roisa fic week probably around july 4th and then possibly hosting rss next year, as well, but with a longer application time (probably all of october, but unsure).

possibly pick-up lines month for january into february in time for valentine’s day. still not sure.

more focus on personal projects.

i want to write my original fic and i’ve been focusing on fanfic and that’s not a problem but i should do some writing on my original fic, too.

not sure what this means yet because i plan to maintain monday updates because that’s been a good schedule for the past however many months and i like having that schedule.

i did set up a blog for that fantasy thing i mentioned a while back, but it’s...more complicated and something i want to ease into before bringing it up real big. so. in the wings.

time off from social media in january.

not sure how i’ll be doing this either, but i just want to take some time off from facebook/tumblr/twitter/etc. i don’t think full blackout because i plan to still be posting links to chapter updates and such here, but i’ve found...i get really worn-out and waste so much time and i just. want to see what happens. idk.

so that’s that.

and then general fic updates:

posted but incomplete fics:

if you lived here, you’d be home now

no change from last update

started a reread, maybe that’ll help

jane: the real story

no change from last update

might be dead fic; i’m not super interested in continuing this

blame soulmate timer au

heart in motion

no change from last update

luisa and the child

aka the sequel to luisa and the fox

no change since last update with the exception of some brainstorming

sin rostro

holding off because other projects are louder right now. still excited for this idea, though

emilia antonia

started the next chapter.

probably going to be focusing on this as one of my primary focuses in the new year. actually i should poll about this.

falling

have another chapter written but not posted but not sure if want to keep that direction or not

started the chapter past that one as well

aftershocks

all of the current chapters are posted

back to back-burner

debating a flashback chapter

the time of your life

finished posting bitches get glitches

rafael’s fic - and the rest of this series - is one of my potential primary focuses in the new year. i’m still really excited about this series and where it’s going.

have working titles for both rafael’s and petra’s fics.

apparently michael, who i hadn’t planned to have involved, is maybe going to actually show up. i’m thinking his first appearance might be in petra’s fic, but i’m not sure on that point.

unposted fics:

where the lightning splits the sea:

aka roisa hp au

the first book rough draft is probably going to be my primary focus in the new year, as i stated above.

currently in chapter eleven of what i expect will be sixteen. chapter lengths vary, so it’s possible that when i go through the second write i may change chapter divisions so that they aren’t too long for ao3 postings.

i’m still super excited to be writing this one and super excited to jump into this fic so - i haven’t hit burnout, which is amazing.

mexican stud

aka rosalint fic

no change from last update

probably a primary focus in the new year as stated above

everything’s coming up roses

no change from last update

various other soulmate aus

no change from last update

epic superhero crossover

aka jtv/tick/timeless/supergirl/x-files/agent carter/person of interest crossover

possibly also to include proven innocent and deputy in a tie-in with the x-files aspect - re: how to get mulder and scully directly involved and not just have the syndicate and world-building aspects

still getting bigger

obviously i have added in person of interest as part of the crossover - primarily because i pulled in wendy mcnally - bridget’s character - from one of the episodes not because i’m pulling in main characters or themes (although there’s a possibility of that)

i have started bits and pieces of this

mexican stud, obviously

mostly dottie/lint stuff

and then a few thousand words in collateral damage, which is basically the wendylu fic that explains what happens with luisa in the three years after rose’s death

the primary fic taking place three years after rose dies but there are a lot of other interconnecting fics that cover that period and earlier, etc.

i want this to be a primary focus, but it’s...complicated

timeless/noir fusion fic

HEY I STARTED IT

IT SHOULD BE REALLY COOL

LOOK IT’S EXCITING AND I WANT TO WRITE MORE OF IT

basic premise: lucy teams up with amnesiac!assassin!emma as they delve into secret societies and etc.

emma is an assassin and has amnesia.

rittenhouse doesn’t suck.

carol doesn’t suck.

lucy is still a history professor, but at amy’s behest (YEAH AMY’S ALIVE), she went to a smaller university somewhere else instead of going into carol’s department

idk who else will show up in the fic yet - emma probably has one of the machines but i’m not sure which one yet either, so that means probably should look at rufus/jiya/mason and maybe flynn BUT not sure

noir is very female-focused with no male main characters so trying to mesh that with timeless is complicated

the focus would need to be on emma and lucy and their relationship

as a result, this will likely end up being prestmore.

sorry not sorry.

there are other projects i’ve considered - like one with nymphs kind of related to something else, and pick-up lines month like i mentioned above, AND ALSO @only-freakin-sunflowers AND I MIGHT BE BRAINSTORMING A COLLAB PROJECT - but i think that’s a good place to stop for now. ^^

#musings #bandit does an update #might poll about primary focus #HM

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