#curses to whoever invented hills

[whatislifebesidesrehearsal]

Professor: How are you all doing?

Student 1: I'm fantastic!

Student 2: [heavy breathing]

#curses to whoever invented hills #theater #theatre #behind the scenes #theater class

[tokyo-revengers-writings]

Holidays w/ Tokyo Revengers

A/n: As stated before on my second blog, I am trying to keep this non-holiday specific to include as many people as I can. While I am trying to do this, I am only human, so this may end up pertaining more to Christmas. No matter what you celebrate, have a great day! (and maybe with me happy birthday on the 27th? Speaking of which, I will be taking that day off for obvious reasons) I also put some people together to make my life either.

Warnings: Fluff, Nahoya Kawata, Baji Keisuke, Hanma, cursing

Manjiro (Mikey) Sano

He's relatively chill

He's not really a fan of holiday parties and shit

Mikey would invite all his friends over to watch shitty Hallmark movies

Yes, I will shit on them because they're all the fucking same!

His favorite holiday deserts are yule logs and chocolate cake w/ cream cheese frosting

He'd invite his close friends (Like Takemichi and Ken) to build a gingerbread house together

As you may have guessed, he just ate the pieces and didn't build a thing

He enjoys sitting in the window and watching the snow fall, curled up in his blanket

He uses the holidays as an excuse to have fun with his family

Emma, Shinichiro, Izana, and Grandpa Sano would bet candy to whoever won games

Grandpa Sano and Izana nearly murdered Mikey after playing Uno together

They went sledding once and Mikey forced Shinichiro to drag his sled up the hill

He never gets anyone presents

He's a family man, 9/10

Ken (Draken) Ryuguji/Emma

Also not a holiday party guy

He prefers going over to the Sano's and hanging out with Emma

He'd take her sledding and skiing once in a while, but he really just wants to relax with her

They'd go to parades together and collect candy from the floats

He's the type of boyfriend to cook w/ Emma

He's really basic, so his favorate cookies are sugar cookies

I swear I love him

Emma would go on Pintrest or something and find some creative reciepe to cook with him

Yes, I know Pintrest was invented in 2010, get off my dick

They'd be lucky if they didn't burn the kitchen down

I can see them doing snowball fights together and curling up under a blanket later on

Emma is the only person in the world who likes Hallmark movies

Ken would get Emma jewlery or something

Emma would get matching couple bracelets for Ken

They're a great couple, 10/10

Izana Kurokawa/Kakucho

Izana's laid-back

He'll go to a few parties, but he really hates them

I can see him drinking alcoholic eggnog with Kaku

He's legit a wine aunt

If he had a choice, he'd stay at his apartment all season with Kaku and bake different holiday foods

He prefers things like peppermint bark

I can see Izana sneaking snow inside and putting it down Kaku's shirt

They'd have heated snowball fights

I can see them re-making their snow castle

pain

I bet Izana still has the plans

They go over it together every winter and make new additions on a separate page

I can definitely see them going out for food together and watching the snow through the cafe window

Izana definitely forgets presents each year

He feels really bad about it

Kaku would get him new fish and guitar supplies

Izana's the type of person during the S-62 Secret Santa to get whatever the person hates

I think about them a lot

They're perfect, 100/10

The Kawata Twins

They're chaotic

Nahoya would buy the packets of fake snow and fill Souya's room with it

That shit takes forever to clean up

They avoid holiday parties at all costs

They hate the type of people who start celebrating the holidays in October

Nahoya has threatened people who have holiday light displays outside in November

Souya probably prefers things like frosted cookies

Nahoya likes gingerbread cookies

Speaking of gingerbread, they'd totally make a gingerbread house together

Or at least try to with the pieces that Nahoya didn't eat

They're forced to take those shitty family pictures in matching pajamas each year

We all know that hate it

Souya would make Nahoya a homemade present that he spent days on

Nahoya would take tootsie rolls and put them in cat litter and force Souya to dig his present out of the cat litter

It's at least a good present

They're chaotic, 9/10

Baji/Chifuyu/Ryusei/Kazutora

They'd do a secret Santa together

They all know who they got though, kinda hard to miss

Chifuyu would actually try to get good gifts for the other person

Kazutora would have an absolute mental breakdown trying to figure out what to get them

Ryusei would look at the person's likes and dislikes and combine their dislikes together as a gift

Baji would get the other person kerosene, a kazoo, and a lighter and call it a day

I can see them having a full-blown snowball war

It got so chaotic the police were called

(Not a favorite holiday food, but Baji likes Creme Brule [hope I spelled that right] because he gets an excuse to burn something.)

They've definitely gone sledding together

Chifuyu nearly got decapitated

They would find b-list Christmas movies and make fun of them together

They'd make an inappropriate light show in front of Baji's house

His mom killed him

They're absolutely chaotic, 10/10

Hanma Shuuji

In all honesty, he probably forgot it was winter

He couldn't care less about the holidays

Probably still believes in Santa

Nahoya may have put fake snow in Souya's room, but Hamna would fill K*saki's room with real snow

Because he's deranged

He doesn't have a favorite holiday food, but if he had to pick, it would be gingerbread

He tried making a snow house once and failed miserably

He absolutely despises how people overexaggerate the holidays

He finds it to be the most annoying thing

He finds most holiday movies stupid

He literally only likes Home Alone

He gets himself presents because he's lonely

Wouldn't be a Tokyo-Revengers-Writings post w/o some angst

He's the most relatable character, 9/10

Hajime Kokonoi

The main thing he likes about the holidays is how everybody is spending lots of money

He overspends on everybody

He probably doesn't care too much about the other aspects of the holidays

He absolutely despises holiday parties

Went sledding with Seishu and nearly shit himself in fear

If he had to celebrate the holidays, he'd want to do it in the privacy of his house with close friends

Seishu definitely forced him to have a movie marathon

Literal torture

Koko's favorite holiday food is yule logs because he thinks it makes him look more rich

He's never actually had a yule log

He's chill, 10/10

Inui Seishu

literally one of the only people on the face of the Earth who like Hallmark movies

Yes, I do have beef with them, they all suck

He's definitely one of the more festive people

He's one of the people who start holiday music and countdowns in March

He'll attend a few holiday parties, but they're not his favorite

Probably still believes in Santa

His favorite Holiday food is chocolate-mint brownies

He loves the holidays but hates the cold weather

He can barely handle 40 degrees before getting hypothermic

Let me have my headcanons

He's the type of person to cry whenever given a present

He doesn't even have to like it to cry

We love sensitive men

He's the type of person to get candles for everyone

Koko has like 10 unlit candles from him

Sweet boy, 11/10

The Haitani Brothers

Absolutely chaotic

Holiday pranks all-season

Rindou still believes in Santa and refuses to think otherwise

Holiday parties 24/7

Literally the life of the party

Rindou's favorite holiday food is date bars

Ran's favorite holiday food is gingerbread bunt cakes

They probably blast holiday music year-round

They're the type of people to make holiday light shows outside their house

They'd watch holiday horror movies together

If you know any please tell me, I want to be festive in fear

Rindou makes homemade gifts most of the time, but he'll buy a few occasionally

Ran buys gifts that he knows the other person will hate

They usually participate in the S-62 Secret Santa

Rindou gets the other person something minimalistic but still fitting to what they like

Ran doesn't even look at what they like and just hopes he got it right

They're chaotic, 9/10

~~~

Masterlist

#toyko revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers manga #tokyo revengers #tokrev headcanons #tokrev hcs #tokyo revengers ran #haitani ran #ran headcanons #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #rindou hcs #rindou headcanons #mikey headcanon #mikey hcs #mikey sano #izana kurokawa #izana headcanons #kurokawa izana #izana hcs #sanzu hcs #emma sano #manjiro sano #sano siblings #shinichiro sano #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu headcanons

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Like Real People Do (Eleventh Doctor x Reader)

Gender neutral. Somewhat inspired by Like Real People Do by Hozier, aka immortal pagan god. The reader dies when they first meet the Doctor, and he seeks them out afterwards. Haha River Song who?

Word count: 2000 (I edited so it would be perfect, that’s right i’m a Writer™)

The Doctor stared at the psychic paper in his hands, the words "HELP, DOCTOR" and coordinates neatly displayed on it. Whoever left him this message had abilities, ones he didn't know about. He didn't like not knowing. So he navigated his TARDIS out of the time vortex to those coordinates and swung open the door to a blaring alarm with a few people panicking in front of him.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor! What seems to be the trouble?" he introduced himself cheerily.

"Doctor! Good, you're finally here. I would kiss you, but rules. Can't do that when we're in danger."

He turned to look at you, completely confused. You were dressed as if you were blending in with the ship's crew. You had clearly established yourself as the leader of the group because they looked at you like you would save them. It was the same way everyone desperately looked to him for answers in any of his life-threatening adventures.

"There is an attack on this ship, and every few minutes the other ship is firing at us. It's leaving holes and breaking the shields. There's not enough power to get them back up completely. I've only put them where they've broken the ship so that we don't lose oxygen. Like patching a hole in your pants but they just keep ripping somewhere else. Don't give me that confused look. Keep up."

"Sorry, ah... who are you?" he asked, following you as you led the group out of the area.

"Seriously? Time travellers. Forget that kissing thing. Anyway, no time to lose. We're going to try and communicate with the other ship because that's what you would do."

"Did you send the message on my paper?"

"Yes, of course. Like I said, keep up."

The other members of the group were questioning both the new person and the current leader of their group, and the Doctor went over a plan of what to say. You all moved forward into a narrow hallway, the Doctor following right behind you. Just then, a loud crack sounded as a shot landed right in front of you, and you cried out as the Doctor tried to grab your hand.

"No!" he shouted.

He wasn't close enough, and you were pulled out of the ship and into empty space against his will. He spotted a pad across the hallway and used his sonic screwdriver on it, bringing the shields back up where you had flown out. The hole was replaced by a dark film that covered the damaged area. It was a small blessing that he didn't have to see someone dying again.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"We only just met-" began one of the group members.

"A name!"

"(Y/N) (L/N)," said a teenager standing in the back of the group.

"We can't mourn. Let's go."

As usual, the Doctor was able to fix the situation. He made a compromise with the other ship, led the ship with his TARDIS to the closest planet, and gave comfort to those who needed it most with his hundreds of years of wisdom. As he stepped back onto the TARDIS, he felt as though he had lost something. Well, he did. Another person's life. He searched for your name everywhere until he found you. A younger you. He didn't think you were human, but as you went about your every day life, you were blending in with the humans. You weren't wearing the clothing that blended you into the crew, and he liked your personal style. As usual, trouble came along and he was pulling you out of danger just in time.

"Hi, I'm the Doctor. Run!"

You followed him and didn't question him once. And when you followed him into the TARDIS after the threat was gone, you didn't ask about it. He knew you'd make one hell of a companion.

"Time Lord technology. Infinite space in an object," you mumbled, more to yourself.

"You... yes. And you're an empath with a telepathic field, according to the TARDIS's scans," the Doctor responded, and you nodded. "Lonely."

"One of the last of my kind. And so are you," you responded.

There was an understanding between the two of you that seemed to pass. You asked nothing about him, and he asked nothing of you. He didn't know much about your past, just the present you and what you were like. He decided you were one of the most beautiful mysteries in the universe. And for once, the Doctor didn't mind not knowing.

You traveled with him for a long time. He sometimes brought along his best friend Amy Pond and her boyfriend Rory. They became your friends as well. The Doctor would sometimes look at you with pain in his eyes, and Amy would notice. Whenever she asked what was wrong, he would instantly smile and brush it off. It was difficult for him to tell her that he was in love with a person who he already knew would die.

He taught you how to fly the TARDIS. Your smile that day seemed to brighten the room. It was either that or the ship felt the same way that he did about how wonderful your presence was. Your first idea was to bring him to a peaceful planet inhabited by only animals.

"I came here many years before I reached Earth. It's quiet and few know about it," you said.

You pulled him to a small hill to observe the field of flowers and small mammals running about in the grass. You sat down and plucked at the grass beside you.

"One of the few planets that hasn't been destroyed by another civilisation," the Doctor said.

"Oh, no, it does. In the future. Endings bring beginnings. I just liked coming here before that because I was around when other aliens started moving onto this planet. Good for us, you have a time machine, and we can come back here as many times as we want as long as our timelines aren't interfering."

He snorted and placed his hand on top of one of yours, moving it to his lap. He pressed his lips into your palm, and you gave him a small grin as he looked into your eyes. He didn't return it.

"I won't ask, but you always look so sad, Doctor. I wish I could help you."

"You look sad a lot of the time, too," the Doctor accused, "but I'm old. I'm allowed to be sad."

"I'm not as old as you, but I'm also not human. My lifespan could exceed yours and neither of us would know."

He smiled as you laughed, pressing his lips to your hand and keeping it there. Then he told you that he loved you for the first time. He giggled when you returned it, as he usually did when he was excited. There, on that field, he kissed you for the first time. And he realised what a curse it was to love someone dying.

You stayed with him even when he lost Amy and Rory. He let himself feel the pain of losing a companion for once and decided to retire. You joined him, of course. It seemed that he was experiencing many firsts with you around. You joined him as he found his Impossible Girl, who ended up becoming your Impossible Girl. This only became an issue when Clara stepped foot in the TARDIS after a few days of your own adventures, and you both shouted "Impossible Girl" at the same time. You coined her "our Impossible Girl" and the Doctor proceeded to be very mushy and soft with you, to which Clara pretended to gag and walked out of the blue box.

He never took you for granted, as you never did him. Every moment he could, he told you that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. Once in a while, when he was feeling particularly anxious after an adventure, he would face you and put his hands on your cheeks and give you a few words of love. You knew he was afraid of losing you, and you would return his worries with a squeeze of a hand or a kiss.

A day came when you told him you had some business. You entered some information into the TARDIS console and showed it to him.

"We've traveled a lot and I promised some of the people we've met some things. You can just drop me off, pick me back up when I call you," you said.

When he went quiet for a moment after checking the monitor, you started to step towards him. He looked back up to you with a grin on his face and ran around the console, slamming buttons, pulling levers, and sliding around on his boots.

"You need shoes with better traction. I love you, and I'll call you in a bit, okay?"

"(Y/N). My (Y/N)," the Doctor said, his hands now holding the sides of your neck in a gentle caress. "The best thing that has ever happened to me in all the universes. You are the best companion any Time Lord could want, and the best lover any being could ask for. I love you with your strengths and your flaws. I love you more than I could ever imagine. You finish that business, and you do it well."

"Hm. This is hardly the longest I've left you. We had a whole Earth month when I had to be there for a bit. I love you."

"I love you," he whispered back.

He pulled you into an embrace, which you returned automatically. He kissed you and you chuckled, taking the steps out of the TARDIS that would mark your final exit. This was a walk towards your death.

You, with your intelligence. You, with your empathy, no matter how well you showed it. You, with your timer ticking down. You, with both the Doctor's hearts. You, taking the Doctor's love with you.

It would only be a few days for you now, he knew. He put the TARDIS into the time vortex. The love of his life, gone within minutes upon meeting him and dying while trying to save other people. It was a death worthy of a companion and worthy to be his own. He remembered the room you shared. Bunk beds. You hated him for it.

"Doctor, we've been together for hundreds of years! Can you please, for the love of all the universe, tell the TARDIS to change it?"

"You're the empath. You talk to her."

"You're my lover, and she's your ship! Fix it!"

A bit of fiddling with the console redesigned the room. No bunk bed. Of course, you never really minded that much. You knew how much he enjoyed the human invention of a bed with a ladder. He could only laugh sadly, but it was much too early for him to be shedding tears. Perhaps he never would. He hurt and loved all at the same time. He knew the risks he took when he found you all those years ago, and he took them anyway. He never could resist a mystery, and you were his favourite one. He set his course for the first peaceful planet you brought him to, just one last time.

He pulled out the psychic paper. You began and ended your journey with him in just minutes, and began it again when he went back for you all because of the paper. His brows furrowed when he noticed that it wasn't blank like it should have been.

"HELP, DOCTOR"

Coordinates. Just a fraction of a number's difference compared to the first time he saw the same message. An empath with a telepathic field.

This was your call.

"Oh, you're brilliant. You are amazing."

He changed his course, the last lever pulled with the one word that he always used in a time of need.

"Geronimo!"

#x male reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x male reader #11th doctor x male reader #eleventh doctor x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #dw imagine #eleventh doctor imagine

[randomfandomimagine]

Struck By Lightning (Marty McFly x Reader)

Characters: Marty McFly, Doc Brown

Fandom: Back to the Future

Tags: Time travel, friends to lovers

Warnings: Spoilers for the movies!

Word Count: 4k words

Requested by @kikikittykis: Hi I want to request a Marty Mcfly x Female reader ficlet where the reader is from Marty’s time and she can Time Travel because she has powers or something maybe she could be related to Doc. But they both get stuck in 1955 but she stays in the shadows to let Marty fix the timeline since he’s the one that got them stuck there. Maybe she has to use the DeLorean with Marty on the way back because her powers are malfunctioning. Thank you if you have the time to complete this request

A/N: I made up some new stuff for time travel, so for the sake of enjoying reading this just ignore how absolutely crazy and not scientifically accurate it is 😂 This is my first Marty and BTTF ficlet and it might have been a bit complicated, so I’m a little insecure about it. I hope you all still like it! 😙

Marty McFly x Female Reader

_

You paced up and down, nails drumming against the little box that you held in your hands. The town square was lonely at that late hour, and only the lights of the posts kept you company in your anguish.

Trying to distract yourself while you waited, you stared at the box in your hands. It was somewhat small, as it only occupied a little more than both of your hands put together as you cradled it in them. It was made of small metal planks reinforced with oak wood, hiding a complex unit of wires connected to the core of electricity. On one side there was a small screen with a keypad filled with numbers. At the top of it was a round red button, shining and enticing. The outside of the box was covered by a thin layer of black rubber.

Knowing every centimeter of the box by heart, you impatiently clicked your tongue. Where was he? He was always late. For someone that had time traveled several times, Marty had no actual sense of time. You were pretty sure that his watches always broke too.

When you heard the sound of skateboard wheels gracing the pavement, you turned around and sighed in relief. It was hard to contain the nerves that upset your stomach, but they subsided slightly at the sight of your best friend.

“Y/N” Marty said, kicking down on his skateboard to stop it and throw it up in the air, where he easily caught it with one hand. You rolled your eyes with a smile at the cool movement.

“I bought you a new watch, McFly” You only replied, to which he grinned in response.

“What’s going on?” He asked you, walking closer. “You sure have your uncle’s sense of mystery”

The nerves stirred in your stomach again when you remembered that time your uncle Emmett gathered you and Marty for the great reveal of his time machine. The DeLorean was the most incredible thing you had ever seen, and it only became greater during your time travels. The thought of it made you jittery again.  

“Um…” You shook your head, trying to focus on the reason why you called him. “See this little box?”

Marty nodded, holding his hand out to take it, but you protectively moved it away from him. He frowned at the gesture, but you explained before he could complain.

“You need to be careful!” You warned him. “This right here is my first invention: a time machine”

You proudly grinned at him, but he only squinted in confusion. It took Marty several seconds to say anything else as you stood there before him, beaming at your reveal.

“Wait a minute… wait a minute, Y/N” He fidgeted, wildly gesticulating with his hands. “Are you telling me you build a time machine from that tiny box?”

“Yes! You see…” You started pointing to the different parts that made the box. “It carries a circuit of electricity in it that shocks the mechanism, giving it enough force to make time travel possible”

“Is that like Doc’s flux capacitor?”

“In a way”

“That’s heavy…” Marty uttered, fixing his blue eyes on the box that you so gingerly held in your hands. “Does Doc know?”

“No, I haven’t told him yet”

“Why didn’t ask him to help you?”

“Because he would!” You exclaimed anxiously. “I wanted to do this myself”

Marty fondly smiled at you, nodding his head in understanding.

Much like your uncle Emmett, you had grown fascinated by science. You studied and learned to idolize great people like Albert Einstein, Marie Curie, Isaac Newton and Thomas Edison. It had always been something you shared with your uncle, which reinforced your bond as he was the only family you had left. This connection only grew after he introduced you to the DeLorean and you joined him and Marty on their time travel shenanigans. Even now that he had a family of his own, him and Clara as well as your cousins Jules and Verne welcomed you and often invited you for dinner.

“Well, let’s go back” Marty said after a moment of silence, taking your wrist. “Let’s show Doc what you invented, he’ll be so happy!”

“Not yet, that’s why I called you” You bashfully averted your gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I wanted to try it first… and I didn’t want to do it alone”

He paused, and his fingers loosened their grip around your wrist. Returning to that fond smile, Marty nodded again, this time in determination.

“Great, let’s do it!” He clapped in anticipation. “How does it work?”

Your face lit up in excitement as you held the box up to demonstrate.

“You see this big red button at the top?” He hummed in affirmation, and so you continued. “You press this to activate the circuits and introduce the digits on the counter”

“Is that it?” Marty gawked at you in astonishment.

“Yup! Then you only point it at whoever is going to travel and voila!”  

“Wow… that’s really heavy, Y/N” You recognized the pride in his eyes as he looked at you, impressed that you had done it on your own. “It’s so simple too!”

“Thanks” You nudged him with a smile, which he gladly reciprocated.

“So where are we…?” He interrupted himself, grinning. “When are we going?”

“I think we should go one minute back in time…” Trying to get over the nerves in your stomach, you took a deep breath. “Do we concur?”

“Right on” Marty leaned a hand over the big red button and stared at you.

Before doing anything else, you inserted the digits that should allow you to travel one back in time. Then, you proceeded. Shaking from head to toe, you hesitantly lay your hand over Marty’s. Between the two, you pressed down and pushed the button. With the device pointed at both of you, it was only a matter of time until you confirmed if it worked or not. As you waited, you shut your eyes tight in nervous anticipation.

A strange magical force seemed to surround you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes yet. Marty’s arm wrapped around you, protectively and uneasy. Only when you heard him gasp, did you dare to open your eyes.

At first glance, you didn’t notice any changes. You were still at the Hill Valley square, and it was night still. Before you celebrated your success, however, you needed to confirm it. A quick glance at your wrist watch told you that the hour hadn’t changed.

“There’s something different…” Marty whispered, letting go of you.

Internally agreeing with him, you took a quick look around you. The streets seemed different. There was something strange about Hill Valley all of a sudden.

Just as your friend was about to take a step, you held on to him in realization.

“Marty!” You tugged at his jean jacket. “Is this…?”

“1955…” He completed, looking around him. After all, he had spent enough time on that year to realize it was so.

The untouched ledge of the clock tower was clue enough, but so were the closed shops that surrounded you and even the old-fashioned cars parked in the streets.

Disappointed, you peered down to the device in your hands. You had miscalculated. There was a big mistake somewhere in your invention, a great margin of error. How could you have traveled so far back in time when you had only set it for one minute?

“Well…” Marty piped up, noticing your mood. “It worked!”

“No, it didn’t…” You sighed, repressing the urge to hurl the device at the floor. “We’re in 1955, not one minute back in 1985”

“Don’t you see, Y/N?” Marty gently took you by the shoulders. “You still invented a time machine, Doc would be proud!”

You showed a sad smile, partly agreeing with him. Your uncle Emmett would be proud, and he would offer to help you fix the problems. If only you could show him a perfect time machine that didn’t have such a big margin of error.

“Now, let’s go back” Your friend patted your shoulder before letting go of you.

Once again, his hand leaned against the button. Yours hovered above it as a terrible hunch reached your gut. If it had thrown you so far back in time, who was to say that you would be returned to 1985 safe and sound? Nonetheless, you pressed your hand over Marty’s and pushed the button together again.

“Uh… Y/N?” He uttered, looking into your eyes. “Nothing happened”

He was right. As you feared, that magical force didn’t surround you this time. You felt absolutely nothing, and so you urgently pressed the button again. It was for naught.

“Marty…” You stared at him with pleading eyes, feeling utterly helpless and miserable. “I’m sorry”

“No… no way…” He nervously passed his hands through his hair. “Not again, Y/N…”

Why was Marty McFly cursed to get stuck in a time away from his own? Was it his friendship with the Brown family that condemned him to such a fate? Just when his adventures with your uncle seemed over, you walked in. Y/N Brown, failed scientist and crappy time traveler.

“I’m a failure…” You hung your head low as tears arrived to your eyes.

“Hey, no” Marty tenderly took your hands in his. “It’s okay, Y/N, we can fix it”

“How?” You exclaimed, quivering with sobs as you forced yourself to look up into his kind blue eyes. “We have no resources here, and even if we did there are no guarantees that I would be able to fix this stupid device!”

Marty frowned. His eyes grew sad as he saw you start crying. Not knowing what to do to comfort you, since he was feeling just as lost, he only rubbed his thumbs against the back of your hands and squeezed your palms.

“There’s gotta be a way” He tried, shrugging to lessen the tension. “We got stuck here once, maybe we can…”

You sniffed through your nose, attentive to his words. However, when he stopped talking, you watched him in alarm. Marty had grown distant, absently letting go of you and taking a few hesitant steps back.

“Marty?” You muttered, not losing sight of him. “Where are you going?”

“There’s a DeLorean here” Marty was about to start walking, but you pulled at his jacket again.

“You’re right!” A spark of hope ignited in your chest, although it vanished soon. “But need I remind you our other selves are here too?”

“Alright, but…” He licked his lips, and you could almost see the wheels in his head turning. “What if we take the DeLorean when we… they… are not looking?”

“They won’t leave the car…” You objected, biting your lip. “Besides, if we took it from our other selves it would cause an abysmal paradox!”

“There must be something we can do!” Marty threw his arms into the air.

“Yes, let’s think for a moment…” You paced up and down, going over all your scientific knowledge. Your time traveling device worked in a similar way to your uncle’s DeLorean. There had to be a way.

You mentally sought inspiration, going over what you did with Marty in 1955. It took your uncle Emmett some time to figure out how to send you back to the future without plutonium, but…

“Eureka!” You exclaimed, startling Marty a little. “The thunderstorm!”

His eyes went from the night sky to the little box you clung on to. When they returned to yours, his expression lightened up at the sight of your recovered excitement. On the 12th November you could harness the storm’s electricity to power your time traveling device.

“That isn’t until…” Given that his watch still didn’t work, he took your wrist to look at yours and see the date. “Next Saturday”

“Well, we can hang out for a bit, it’ll be fine…” You sighed in exhaustion, already knowing you had to go through that all over again. “I’ll be easy, we just need to be careful not to…”

“Not to run into our other selves and disrupt the space time-continuum?” Marty completed for you.

His sarcasm suddenly made you feel even more tired. Of course you wouldn’t be that easy. Not only did you had to avoid running into the other Y/N and Marty, you also had to make sure not to get in the way of Marty’s parents falling in love as well as Marty’s successful travel back to 1985 the other time.

Exhausted, you hid your face in his shoulder. When he kindly wrapped his arms around you, at least you were glad you hadn’t done it alone.

_

You had discussed your plan many times. Unfortunately, you couldn’t talk to your uncle as he was already dealing with the other Marty and Y/N from the other timeline. Likewise, you couldn’t let any of them see you or disrupt their endeavor if you wanted to guarantee your own wellbeing.

Given that thunderstorms were unpredictable and the only spot where you knew a lightning would certainly strike was occupied, it was hard to tell what to do. Although reluctantly, you had admitted that your best chance was catching a lightning that would power your device and send you back to your time. Chances were slim, and you felt at the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Even as you walked, your eyes were glued to the clock tower, minutes away from being destroyed. Hill Valley citizens were completely oblivious to the thunderstorm, as well as they were oblivious to the activities that were taking place. There were two time travels to happen that night: one had already been successful, the other… well, it was yet to see.

“Y/N” Marty stopped walking to put your hands on your upper arms. “Don’t worry, it will be alright”

“But what if I’m wrong?” You averted your gaze, fiddling with your thumbs. “What if it doesn’t work and we’re stuck here forever? Or… or…”

“You’re just as smart as Doc is” He reassured you, showcasing absolute determination in his expression. “I believe in you, you’ll get us back”

“I just…” Instead of looking at him, you glanced at the other Marty in the distance. “I’m scared”

“I’m a bit scared too…” Marty pushed you against him in a much needed hug. “But I know you’re right, this will work”

His warmth embrace comforted you in the chilly night, as your hair moved with the breeze just like his was. His bangs tickled your cheeks, but you didn’t move.

“Breathe” He playfully told you, making you realize your shoulders were tense and you were definitely holding your breath. “We’ve done this before, we can do it again”

You let out a shaky exhale, nuzzling his shoulder. While you still felt bad that you had gotten him into that mess, it was a relief that he was by your side. Marty made everything feel alright. Just as you started to calm down, you noticed something and grew tense once more.

“No… Marty, what are you doing?”

“What?”

“No, not you… him” You pointed at the other Marty, who was stepping away from your uncle’s younger version. “I don’t remember you doing that…”

“That’s why” Your Marty lifted his arm, pointing a finger at a figure that walked your way and that had gathered the other Marty’s attention.

Biff headed your way, no doubt enticed by your feminine figure. You rolled your eyes at him even as he approached. Marty, on the other hand, stiffened and refused to move an inch.

“I don’t think he recognized us”

“Do you think he confused me with Lorraine?”

“Maybe… although you don’t have to be my mum to have that pig’s attention” You caught a hint of jealous protectiveness in his voice, but ignored it.

Biff was walking closer, and with that so was the other Marty, alarmed by Biff’s presence. You had time traveled so many times that all those different events were overlapping.

“We have to do something before he sees us!” You urged your friend. “And before my uncle and the other you walk over here!”

“Hey!” The other Marty called, leaving the DeLorean for a moment.

“Quick, Y/N, what do we-?” You cut Marty’s words as you moved on an instinct.

There was only one way you could think of that would have everyone’s attentions off you. You took Marty by the lapels of his jean jacket and pushed him against the streetlight behind him. Immediately after, you smashed your lips against his. That way, the intimate nature of the moment would drive them away as well as hide your faces for them to recognize.

Frozen by shock, Marty held his hands up in the air. When he realized that he was supposed to sell the moment, he cautiously put them on your hips. It was surprisingly comforting and pleasant given the stressful situation.

Without breaking the kiss, you opened your eyes to glance at them. Biff had faced his back to you, waving his hand in the air in annoyance. Luckily, he didn’t bother the other Marty as he returned with your uncle and the other you.

The kissing sound seemed to echo on the streets as you and Marty separated. Your faces remained close, mere inches away from each other, so close in fact that your noses touched. For a moment, the two of you could only stare into each other’s eyes as you breathed heavily. That had been… interesting.

“That was close…” Marty gulped as he glanced from your lips to your eyes.

“Sorry…” You gasped, letting go of him and taking a step back. It took his hands a second to lift off your hips and let you move. “It’s the first thing that came to mind”

“I mean… it worked” He chuckled, which distracted you a little from the blush on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry…” You felt terrible, having embarrassed him and made him uncomfortable.

Marty was your best friend and you hoped he didn’t take this the wrong way. You had only done it to save yourselves, to… to avoid a catastrophic and earth-shattering paradox! You told yourself that, but found it hard to ignore how it had sent tingles down your spine and how you had been glad to have an excuse to do it.

“No, it’s fine…” Marty reassured you, distracting you from your thoughts. “It’s fine…”

His voice broke, and you knew that was a sign that he was nervous. You had definitely made him uncomfortable. Trying to forget about it all, you distanced yourself from him with the pretense that it was best to walk away from Biff, the other Marty and your uncle.

“Um…” You forced yourself to steer your thoughts back to the task at hand. “We need to…”

“Right” Marty nodded and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Yeah, the uh… the lightning”

Mortified by what just happened, you continued walking as you were before it. You had to find a place where you wouldn’t be seen, as that Marty, Y/N and Doc were still in the town square and there was another version of them at the entrance of Lyon States before it was built.

Just when you were distancing yourself from the town and reaching a more isolated spot, the storm broke out. Your stomach churned in anticipation, knowing this was your only chance to go back to the future.

Then all of a sudden, you knew. Call it destiny, or call it a stupid and irrational hunch. Whatever the case, you could feel it in your bones as you peered up at the dark night sky: a lightning bolt was about to strike. You had to catch it, and so you ran for it.

“Y/N!” Marty shouted when he realized what you were doing, and followed after you.

You prayed to all those scientists your uncle taught you about and that you had grown to admire as much as he did, nearly as much as you admired your uncle Emmett. Shutting your eyes tight, you hoped that the lightning bolt hit exactly the box and not you, and that you could turn the gadget in time to point it at Marty.

The lightning struck, making you flinch and cringe in anticipation. Just as it touched the box and the powerful electric force vibrated against your hands, you felt Marty hold on to it and tilt it up. Then everything happened very fast, as the familiar sound of your device surrounded you.

The force of Marty’s movement, however, had thrown you back. You felt yourself falling backwards albeit with one of his arms wrapped around you. There was a commotion of yelps and groans between the two of you as you landed on your backs, holding on to each other.

As the magical force that surrounded you faded away, reality settled back in. The night was cold and the air was humid. You didn’t know if it was the cold or the wet pavement underneath you, but you felt yourself shaking.

The box buzzed in your hands before dying down. When it did, you weakly glanced around you. Everything seemed in order, just like you remembered it. It seemed like you were at home in 1985.

“Y/N!” Marty, who had landed next to you, rushed to kneel by your side. “You okay?”

Out of breath, you found it impossible to respond. You only looked at him, struggling to breathe. Everything hurt, and it was hard to talk and even moved. For the time being, you focused on calming your accelerated breath and racing heart.

“Hey, talk to me” Carelessly throwing the time traveling device away to keep your hands free, he held them in concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Like…” You gulped, slowly recovering the ability to speak. “Like I was just struck by lightning”

Marty laughed, dropping his head forward in relief. Without dropping your hands, he tugged at them to pull you to your feet. Your brain felt slow and foggy, and you swayed as soon as you had to hold your own weight. Luckily, Marty realized your weakness and tightly held on to you, letting you lean against him.

You took a deep breath, trying to settle your dizziness. Honestly, you just were glad you had been cautious enough to cover the outsides of the box with rubber… it might have saved your life.

“Hey” Marty gently folded a finger under your chin, slowly lifting it up so you looked at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah…” You smiled, although you clung on to his shoulders for support. “Now I know why Uncle Emmett always says time travel is dangerous”

You expected Marty to laugh again, but he didn’t. Trying to focus your eyes, you peered up at him. He was staring at you. As you stared back at him, you knew. Somehow, even though neither of you said a word, you knew. You knew that something had struck you along with that lightning: a realization. You were struck with the realization that the kiss had been more than just pretend. So much more than that.

Finally, Marty laughed. You did too, letting out a chuckle of happiness and relief. At least your little adventure wasn’t in vain.. it made you realize Marty was much more than just your best friend.

“Uh… we better get back” He said, lovingly rubbing your arm. “Before anything else happens”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of time” You grinned at him. “Now, in the present”

Marty smiled and slowly separated from you, as though he was as willing as leaving that endearing closeness as you were. Sneaking playful yet timid glances at each other, the two of you started walking.

Your hands brushed together with how close you were again as you headed back home. A smile had taken over your features, and it only grew when Marty’s fingers gently tugged at yours. Without losing another precious second, you took his hand too.

“We have one hell of a story to tell Doc” Marty muttered, smiling as much as you were.

“Yeah, I don’t know what will surprise him more” You held your intertwined hands up, making Marty laugh.

Not only had you invented a working time machine that, while flawed, had successfully sent you back in time. You had also returned safely to your year without your uncle’s intervention and while avoiding several of your other selves without getting in their way. As well as that, you had realized you had fallen in love with your best friend, and it had been shocking an unexpected. Just like being struck by lightning.

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn​ / @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ / @fortheloveofbenyandtom​ / @caswinchester2000​ / @bravelittlesunflower​ // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, send me an ask!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

#marty mcfly x reader #marty mcfly #back to the future #bttf #rfi writings #ficlet #back to the future ficlet #bttf ficlet #marty mcfly ficlet #doc brown #reader insert #requested

[daisylovesrumble]

Bad Ideas because my brain is cursed: (Prolly G1) Rachet/Wheeljack and Megatron/Starscream argue over who's "kids" are the best....meanwhile the Dinobots and *insert whoever fills the roll for Starscream and Megatron* break something extremely important in the background

WilSorry for the lateness of this.  Holidays, parenthood, and activism got in the way.  Also, I am with the love of my life, so there is that. It was strange having a peace treaty between factions that had literally been at war for millions of years, but an outbreak of Cosmic Rust and having to work together to save the lives of your fellow Cybertronians will do that. Prime and Megatron had decided that the best first step after the signing of the treaty would be a family style picnic.  During the planning stages, Megs dropped a bomb on Prime... “Starscream and I would like you to know that we are the parents of the Stunticons, and we will of course be bringing them. “ Prime was about the say that this was a shock, but of course they are more than welcome, when Ratchet interjected; “Well, Wheeljack and I are the parents of the Dinobots, and we will be bringing them.” Starscream, having been silent this whole time, suddenly had to speak; “Yes, I am sure your little dino babies with their simple processors will have a lot of fun with our intelligent, brave mechs”. Wheeljack could not keep quiet at this; “And I am sure your rowdy sons would learn something from our gentle giants”.

Ratchet, Prime, and Megatron watched Starscream and Wheeljack glare at each other.  Prime was about to remind them about the peace treaty, when a bang was heard.  Then a louder one. All five rushed out of the meeting room to find the source of the noise.  It was coming from Wheeljack’s lab.  Ratchet was about the ask what he had invented now...when a laugh was heard.   Dumbfounded, they burst into Wheeljacks lab...only to see the Dinobots-and the Stunticons-building a hill together out of Wheeljack’s rejected inventions.  At the top, Slag in alt mode has Breakdown and Wildrider on his back.  Suddenly he pushes off with his legs, and they all slide down the metallic hill, screeching with laughter. “So....potato salad as one of the dishes?” Starscream asks Wheeljack “Yes, potato salad. “ Wheeljack smiles at the Seeker.

[lokilickedme]

So actually two: Dia Laisir and The Liar

I don’t even know where to start with Dia Laisir, honestly.  Folklore?  Mythology?  A 3 a.m. rant fueled by too much coffee, way too many Little Debbies, and a seven day run of not enough sleep?  Getting close, I think.

Dia Laisir is a totally made up little minor god that I invented to explain King McClary’s apparently fireproof boots.  Loki battled him in the Scottish Highlands way back in the day before people were the dominant species there, and upon the minor god’s defeat and subsequent banishment, Loki cast him into an inanimate object and bound him there so he couldn’t fuck around with the few heathen humans that had migrated into the land.  The whole casting thing might have been totally on accident, by the way - Loki’s never been terribly accurate with his magic and popular opinion has it that he was actually trying to obliterate the demon.

Shit goes wrong and alcohol’s a hell of a problem, ya know?

Dia Laisir didn’t like that much, as you can probably guess.  First off, Loki wasn’t even supposed to be in Scotland.  Norse god, messing around in the Highlands?  What the hell’s that about?  Second, that wasn’t all the god of mischief and general fuckery did to old Dia.  Before he shoved him into the trunk of a tree to live the rest of his natural-born as a knotty pine, Loki banished Dia’s lover, Souflou, into a nondescript chunk of silver that some axe-wielding lunatic had tucked into his sporran, thus separating the two forever.

Yeah, there was a whole lot of fuck you Loki spinning around in Dia Laisir’s head for the next few decades until some axe-wielding lunatic chopped down the tree he was bound to (probably the same one hauling haunted semi precious metals around in his crotch bag, but history doesn’t verify much) and accidentally set him free.

Stuff started burning.  Forests, villages, pretty much anything with a flammability rating went up in smoke, because Dia was pissed.  Souflou had been shuffled around from place to place in that silver chunk, molded into various bits and bobs as the heathens learned how to turn silver into useful things, and every time Dia got close to finding her the silver that housed her spirit changed hands or was made into something else.  And so Dia Laisir’s rage burned, and so did big chunks of the Highlands.

Eventually Loki caught a whiff of the smoke from wherever he was, I dunno probably getting dicked down by some eleven-legged something or other, and with a dramatic sigh he poofed himself over to Scotland again to find out what the hell was going on.  Dia was supposed to be in a frigging tree trunk, wasn’t he?  Naw, he was running all over the hills and moors and lochs doing his damndest to obliterate the human scourge that kept moving his love around so that he couldn’t find her, and after an epic battle royale in which Loki siphoned off about half of Dia’s firestarting powers (hey, those might come in handy later) he finally managed to send crankybutt’s spirit into a sword strapped to the saddle of a passing local.  May or may not have been a McClary, btw.  Just sayin.

But that sword had a nasty habit of transferring the soul inside it to whoever it killed, which you can imagine was a messy bit of business because the guy who owned it was a bloodthirsty son of a bitch.  Like I said, possibly a McClary, and you know how they are.

So Loki yanked Dia Laisir out of the sword after a few years of hearing stories about the cursed blade and all the lopsided battles its owner kept winning, and while sitting in a dark smoke-filled pub one night half drunk out of his head and obsessing over what the hell to put this thing into where it couldn’t interfere with the natural progression of Scotland’s ruling power, he tried to send it into a shield that was hammered onto the wall over the fireplace - but too much mead and Loki being Loki, he passed out in the middle of the banishment spell and when his head hit the table the soul’s trajectory went south to the floor instead of northeast to the fireplace.

Into the left boot of a big black haired brute of a warrior that was currently wolfing down a leg of lamb while simultaneously groping a leg of barmaid.

Loki woke the following morning laying face down across the table he’d passed out on, and the brute with the cursed boots was gone.  Eh, good riddance, the boots would eventually wear out and be discarded and Dia would go with them into the fire, where his spirit would disperse into the cosmos.  Not Loki’s problem anymore.

Except Dia Laisir was a wily fucker, and figured out a way to slip out of the boots through a hole in the sole.

So Loki dragged his gettin-tired-of-this-shit hiney back to Scotland again, and since putting a fearsome god inside something like a pair of shoes that some lowly human would wear on their feet - stepping in cow shit and stomping on bugs - made Loki giggle like a schoolgirl, he did it again, only this time with a sturdier pair of footwear that wouldn’t be so easy to get out of.

It worked.  Dia was stuck, harmless, incapacitated, forced to watch the decades and then the centuries pass from two inches above the ground.  And each time Loki started to smell the smoke that signaled the end of the lifespan of Dia’s current home and the likelihood of his escape, he would return to Scotland and move the angry spirit into another pair of shoes.

Until finally the modern era erupted around humankind, and with it came good quality, durable, high-lifespan materials and the means by which to turn them into goods that could take a beating without disintegrating quickly.  A man named Klaus Martens was born and started using those materials to make shoes that were damn near indestructible.  And Loki’s problems with the fire god were finally over.

The thick-soled sturdy boots that he sent Dia into would last damn near forever.  But just to be safe, when those boots started to show heavy wear and had changed hands multiple times, he returned to Scotland one more time and acquired them through somewhat nefarious means (we won’t go into that part right now) and, using the illusion of a homeless man, he roamed the streets of Glasgow with them on his own feet in search of someone trustworthy to entrust them to.  Because he was sick of running back and forth to Scotland every couple of decades to keep doing this shit - he was getting old, he had other things to do with his time thanks so much.  He needed someone he could trust to keep the fire god’s spirit safe and secluded and far, far away from his lover...because Souflou had eventually ended up in a child’s silver rattle which was sitting right that moment in the display window of a gift shop in Edinburgh, and Dia Laisir could sense her nearness.  If the two of them ever ended up in close proximity again it would be the end of the world as we know it.  Humankind would burn.

The Trickster had no particular love for humanity, but it provided him with entertainment and he wasn’t big on the idea of taking the blame for yet another genocide.

So Loki, in the guise of a street beggar, waited for someone worthy to acknowledge him.  Tens, hundreds, and then thousands of people passed him by, disinterested in him, ignoring his presence -

- until the day a young boy sat down next to him wearing a brand new pair of boots.

“Nice boots” Loki said.

The boy just nodded.  He didn’t like his new boots.  They were stiff and hurt his ankles.  His grandda had insisted they would break in soon and be comfortable, but the boy felt his nerves going up in flames with every step as the hard leather rubbed his skin.  His eyes, green like Loki’s, kept going to the ratty worn out boots on the beggar’s feet.

And then without a word the boy unlaced his brand new Doc Martens and took them off, then knelt down at the beggar’s feet and unlaced the worn out boots and replaced them with his own, tying the ties slowly before putting the old, dusty, broken down pair on his own feet.

And Loki smiled.

He’d found a human that he knew could handle the cranky fire god.  This boy was quiet but strong, silent but smart, and somehow he knew the child understood the importance of those boots.

He must be one of mine, the trickster god thought proudly.  He’d never visited Scotland without availing himself of the charms of the locals, and as a result the land was fairly crawling with many generations of his offspring.  The boy’s soft green eyes and black hair certainly reminded him of himself.  Hmm.  There was something else too...the line of the kings had come to a lurching halt a couple of generations back as the modern age stripped the people of any desire to hold onto the old ways, but Loki sensed it in the lanky teenager.  He was a king.

“They don’t look like much, but they’ll get you where you’re going,” he told the boy, pointing toward the boots on his feet.  “Fireproof, you know.  And you will be too, when you’re wearing them.”

The boy nodded.  An old woman ducked her head out of the bakery they were sitting against and smiled when her eyes fell to them.

“Get in here boy, I’ve got your sweeties on the table.”

The boy stood, testing the fit of the boots.  They felt good.  Comfortable.  Like they belonged to him.  The barest hint of a smile tugged his lips and he looked at the beggar, holding out one hand to help him up off the sidewalk.

The heavily frosted and ridiculously decorated pastries the boy shared with him as they sat together at a little table in the back of the bakery were the best damn thing Loki thought he’d ever tasted in his long, tiresome, faintly ridiculous life.  And Dia Laisir smoldered, sending a heat into the boy that tempered him like a flame hardens steel.  He would need that strength, Loki knew.  But it would be okay.

The boy was worthy.

#Dia Laisir #the Fire God boots #The McClary Chronicles #King's fireproof boots #Loki #mythology #I made all this ridiculous shit up but now that I read it I'm kinda proud of it #Loki and The King Of Claighe #King McClary #stuff I wrote #bethbabybaby

[waltzofthewifi]

Yposchesi -  A Percy Jackson fanfic

Originally posted on my fanfiction account

1945

"Promise," Mary said, gripping Joe's hands tightly.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you," Joe replied, but Mary shook her head.

"I need to here you say it," she told him. "Please."

She trembled violently, and Joe wondered what was so important to her.

In the background, the empty forge seemed almost eerie. Everyone at camp was out in the hill, managing and repairing defenses. Only Joe and Mary remained, and only because Mary said she had something important to give him.

"Alright," Joe decided. "I promise. Now what was so important?"

"It's back here," Mary said, leading Joe into the back of the forge.

Even trembling and scared, Mary looked beautiful. Her raven black hair was up in something between a rat's nest and bun, and her skin, clothes, and armor was smeared with oil, but to Joe that only brought out her sky blue eyes.

It was weird for Mary, as a daughter of Zeus, to want to meet Joe in the forgery, even as much as she had helped her stepbrother and his cabin mates out. Joe wondered if maybe this super-important thing she wanted to show him used to be her stepbrother's - he, as head of the Hephaestus cabin and boyfriend to the only child of Hecate at camp, tended to make dangerous things. And ever since he died last week, his inventions were even more dangerous.

Joe wouldn't be surprised if Mary showed him a murderous dragon, or an advanced war plane. Ever since his brother had started advocating for a separate military branch for air support, Joe had been interested in planes.

So he was a little surprised when Mary gave him a dagger.

"He called it Ypóschesi," Mary told him.

"Promise," Joe translated. He ran his fingers along the blade and hilt - definitely Mary's stepbrother's craftsmanship.

"Yes," Mary confirmed. "It wasn't an official name, but he called it that because he promised... he promised that as long as I had it, nothing could ever harm me."

"Then you should keep it," Joe said. "With everything's that's happening. Especially with your sixteenth birthday coming up."

"I can handle that," Mary argued. "I can handle the war, and the stupid prophecy, no problem. But I just can't handle the thought that something might happen to you - that I might lose you. And this knife is so important to me, and you promised."

"Alright," Joe agreed. "For you. But you have to know that I don't want anything happening to you either."

"I know."

1949

Henry looked around, wide-eyed, as he followed his tour guide around camp.

It had been hard, coming all the way from Seattle to New York City, mostly unarmed, but he had managed. And now he was finally here.

His tour guide - and brother, according to Chiron, but Henry didn't know how he could be related to someone so commanding - was explaining how camp wasn't as impressive as it usually was, what with the war just having ended, but it looked impressive enough to Henry.

"And here's the cabins," the tour guide - John? Joe? - said. "This is our cabin, Athena, and where you'll be staying."

"Here?" Henry asked, staring up at the large, gray building. Not for the first time since leaving his family's cabin in Washington, he felt intimidated.

Joe smiled sympathetically. He was at least a foot taller than Henry, with military posture and haircut, but when he looked down at the younger boy, he looked friendly.

And very sad...

"Do you have a weapon?" Joe asked. Henry shook his head.

"I had a dagger for a while, but I lost it in Indiana," Henry explained.

"You like daggers?" Joe asked. Henry nodded - it was the only weapon he had ever used, and being only nine years old he doubted he could lift a sword. "Well, then, how about I give you this one?"

Joe pulled a dagger from his belt and leaned down to give it to Henry.

"Now, this dagger is very special," Joe explained. "It's magic, supposedly. It will protect its owner. Not only that, but it's last owner was very special - one of the smartest and bravest fighters camp's ever known."

"What happened to him?" Henry asked.

"She died recently," Joe replied, his voice cracking. "But as much as I'd like to keep it, I think she'd want you to have it. But you have to promise me you'll take care of it."

"I will."

1956

"Oh, come on Henry," Jessica whined, pushing a piece of blonde hair out of her face. "You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being cautious," Henry replied, crossing his arms. Even when being a stubborn idiot, Henry looked handsome - long, blonde hair that always fell in his gray eyes and curled whenever it got wet, a cute button nose that he hated, and massive biceps that did not in any way make Jessica's crush on him superficial.

"Is there a difference?" Jessica asked, crossing her arms in response. Cute or not, Henry was not going to win this argument. As stubborn as children of Athena were, children of Nike were always worst (and it didn't help that she had to live with Hermes' children either).

"I'm telling you, the quest is suicide," Henry repeated. "Just please, reconsider."

"You don't think I can handle myself?"

"You're impossible." Henry sighed, and Jessica smiled in victory. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That you'll be careful."

Jessica snorted. "When am I not?"

"All the time," Henry replied.

He had a point.

"Fine. I'll promise that I'll be careful, and that I'll come back and make your life difficult."

Henry grinned. "I'll be counting on it. And one more thing."

"That was the one more thing." Jessica thought she had a good point, but Henry ignored her. To Jessica's surprise, he unsheathed a dagger - the one he had always had on him.

"Take this." Henry said, holding the dagger out. "It's supposed to protect its owner."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "All weapons do that."

"I mean, its special. Please, just take it." Henry lifted the dagger up, giving Jessica his puppy-dog eyes.

With a sigh, Jessica took the dagger. "Fine. But you need to stop stressing - I will be fine."

"I know," Henry replied. "But I just can't stand the thought of losing you."

Jessica squeezed his hands. "And you won't."

1958

"I don't understand," Lily said, her feet banging against the side of the Jessica's bunk. "Why don't we have our own cabin?"

"Because," Jessica replied. "There's not enough of us for us to have our own cabin. The two of us don't take up that much room now, do we?"

Lily frowned, obviously not happy with that answer. "But there's several empty cabins."

"Well..." Jessica started, trying to find a good answer.

Even after only knowing her for a day, she knew her little sister would not give up until she had a satisfactory answer. She was, after all, a daughter of Nike, but she had Jessica frustrated beyond belief.

Lily didn't look like much. With beautiful auburn hair and crystal blue eyes, she looked like she belonged in the Aphrodite cabin, even when dressed in active clothes. She was thirteen, but was the size of a ten year old, and she smiled more than she glared.

But she was so insistent.

"You want to know the real reason?" Jessica asked, leaning in towards Lily. Lily nodded eagerly. "I think they're scared of us."

"Really?" Lily replied, eyes lighting up like a bonfire.

"Yes," Jessica said. "And they think that if we had our own cabin, our own space to plan, we'd take over camp. Which is true, of course." Even if it wasn't the real reason.

Lily frowned. "Oh, well I guess that makes sense. So, when do I get my own weapon?"

Did this girl have a book of hard questions (and was it provided by Henry)? After an accident involving two poodle-sized bronze dragons, triplet children of Hephaestus, and a prank by Jessica's cabin mates, there was a concerning lack of weapons at camp. There was no chance a daughter of a minor goddess was going to get her hands on one, unless...

"Actually," Jessica said. "I have one here for you. But you have to promise not to lose it, okay?"

Lily muttered something under her breath. During her trip from Maine (seriously? Who lives in Maine?) to New York, she had destroyed, lost, and otherwise made useless a total of twenty six weapons, and she had a habit of cursing whoever brought it up.

"What's so special about it anyways?" Lily muttered.

"It's magic," Jessica said. "It protects its owner. But you have to take care of it, okay? It was a gift from someone very special."

"I promise I'll take care of it," Lily replied. "But it's not like I purposely destroy things."

1963

"Why do you carry a dagger around?"

The question caught Lily off guard, judging from how fast she spun around.

"What?" She demanded.

Colleen debated keeping her mouth shut, but curiosity won her over. "Why do you carry a dagger around?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Lily asked. She looked murderous, as if Colleen had just insulted her grandmother. Colleen gulped, but didn't back down.

"Because you're so good at archery," Colleen answered. "One of the best, even."

Archery was the reason Colleen and Lily knew each other so well, anyways. Colleen wasn't very violent, liked flowers and skirts, and spent her free time playing on the piano her brother had snuck in. Lily, on the other hand, was about as violent as someone could get, despised anything feminine, despite being a girl herself, and didn't do much else besides train and fight. But they were the best archers at camp, so they somehow became friends.

"Oh," Lily said. "Right. The dagger was a gift from my sister."

"You have a sister?" Colleen asked. As far as she knew, there wasn't any other children of Nike at camp, and the blade was celestial bronze, so it wasn't like a mortal sister could have given it to her.

"I did," Lily replied. "She's - she's gone."

"Oh," Colleen said. "Sorry."

Lily smiled. "No, it's okay. I don't mind talking about her. I would hate for her to be forgotten."

"What happened to her?" Colleen asked.

"She won a game she shouldn't have had, and was murdered for the prize. It was a stupid, mortal way to die." Lily spit the last sentence out.

"There are worse ways to die," Colleen replied. "My mother died because her hair got stuck in a machine. Broke her neck. Probably didn't even realize it was coming until she was dead."

Colleen and Lily lapsed into awkward silence, with the exception of the thunk of arrows hitting the target (almost all bullseyes). When their quivers ran out, they walked down the range in silence.

When they reached the targets, Lily decided to break the silence. "Why all the sudden questions?"

Colleen shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm feeling a little underprepared for the quest tomorrow."

"That's stupid," Lily declared. "Chiron wouldn't let you go on the quest if he didn't think you were ready."

"I know." Colleen yanked hard on one of her arrows, almost taking the paper target with her. "But if we get attacked, and it's too close of a range, I'm useless..."

"You can always punch it." Lily wiped the fuzzy target pieces off of her arrows and slid them back into her quiver.

Colleen shook her head. "Most monster have pretty thick skin."

"Then kick it," Lily suggested. "You wear heels, right?"

"Not on quests," Colleen replied.

As Lily and Colleen walked back to the shooting line, Colleen checked her watch. "I need to be going. I'm getting up bright and early tomorrow."

"I thought children of Apollo natural got up at dawn," Lily observed.

Colleen smiled. "It's winter. We'll be in another state before dawn."

Lily laughed her loud, barely laughed that ruined her natural beauty, and Colleen couldn't help but chuckle.

"You know," Lily said. "You could have my knife, if you want."

"Really?" Colleen asked. "But it was your sister's, don't you want to keep it?"

"No, not really," Lily admitted. "A weapon is kind of wasted if it just stays on my belt all the time. At least, if I give it to you, it might get some use." Lily passed the weapon to Colleen.

"Thanks," Colleen said.

"And Coll?" Lily asked.

"Yes?"

"What I said about Jessica, about my sister... no one at camp knows who she is anymore, and I meant it when I said I didn't want her forgotten. But I'm leaving this fall and you still have a couple years left..."

"I won't let her be forgotten. I promise."

1965

Elizabeth laughed as the girl, Colleen, tripped and fell over her root and her bow went flying.

Being only twelve years old and a daughter of Demeter, being any help at all during capture-the-flag was a delight, and especially taking down a counselor like Colleen...

Apparently, she laughed a little too loud, because Colleen looked her way as she propped herself up on her elbows. Shoot. Elizabeth was unarmed and in enemy territory, and if Colleen chose to chase her, or retrieved her bow, Elizabeth was dead meat. So she did the smart thing and ran in the other direction.

Colleen was fast and not very silent, and it wasn't long before Elizabeth heard the older girl tearing after her. The string of her bow hummed, and Elizabeth barely ducked away from an arrow. The arrow hit a tree instead, and splattered red paint everywhere.

Elizabeth summoned another tree root, and immediately felt faint. She didn't usually use this much power, but she forced herself to keep running. Behind her, Colleen yelped as she tripped, and cursed a very creative and unladylike string of words.

Elizabeth almost repeated the curses when she heard Colleen stand up again, and the chase resumed. Elizabeth dodged two more arrows, and the fletchings of a third hit her shoulder. She dodged a fourth arrow, but when it lodged itself in a tree, it let loose a horrible sound, and Elizabeth found herself on her knees. Colleen was standing behind her in barely a second, her black hair a mess and shirt covered in sweat marks.

"Just for the record," Colleen said between pants. "I got you with the first arrow." She pulled a knife from her belt and held it out at Elizabeth. "Now, let's go to prison, shall we? No, wait, first give me your weapons."

"I don't have any," Elizabeth replied.

"Nice try," Colleen said. "Now, your weapons."

"I don't have any," Elizabeth repeated.

"Seriously?" Colleen asked, using her left hand to wipe the sweat off of her forehead. "No one has given a fighter like you a weapon?"

"No," Elizabeth replied. Why did she have to keep repeating herself?

"Well, then, after the game how about I give this knife? It's a very good knife, and it has a little magic in it too. Would you like it?" Colleen grinned as Elizabeth rapidly nodded her head. "But first, you have to promise me something. This knife comes with a story, and you have to never let that story be forgotten. You promise you'll do that?"

"I promise!" Elizabeth replied. No one had offered her a weapon before, and the idea of a counselor giving her one - a magical one, too - excited her. "What does the magic do?"

"It protects the owner," Colleen replied.

Elizabeth frowned. "Don't all weapons do that?"

"No," Colleen answered. "Well, yeah, but this one is extra protective. If you keep this, nothing can ever harm you."

Elizabeth's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yes, but remember, there is a promise that comes with it."

"Don't let the story be forgotten," Elizabeth remembered.

Colleen grinned. "Exactly."

1967

Hal calmly sipped tea from the porch of his mansion, waiting patiently for the demigods to show up.

Apparently, there was a karpoi infestation in Ohio that was causing a lot of problems for farmers, and Chiron had told the demigods that were going on the quest that they could borrow Hal's car.

Hal was annoyed at the assumption, even if he had said that his car was open for use by camp. Chiron should know that he didn't mean it - besides, shouldn't camp have its own vehicle by now?

Hal sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was twenty, he should be free from camp's obligations. But no, he had to give up his pride and joy - his precious car. Chiron should know how possessive children of Apollo were with vehicles - a trait directly inherited from their lovely father.

Right on time - that is, an hour late - three demigods appeared in the plaza. They looked young, not older than fourteen, but then maybe Hal was getting old. Demigods don't usually live to be twenty, anyways.

The leader of the quest was in the stereotypical position of the middle. She was the shortest and the skinniest and the least scariest - she couldn't have been taller than five feet. Her golden brown hair was pulled back into pig tail braids as if she was trying to look younger. The John Lennon glasses that were tilted on her nose didn't take the attention off of her heterochromatic eyes - one eye brown, the other green.

Hal frowned and sat up. Hadn't he had a vision about a girl with different colored eyes?

Even if he had, he shouldn't do anything about it. Apollo had drilled it in his head - don't try to change the future. He wasn't the oracle, he had no right over anyone's, even his own, future. Just shut up, and maybe write it in his diary if he had to get it out.

But those eyes were definitely familiar.

So familiar that after giving his keys over the girl - Elizabeth - he pulled her to the side to read her future.

"Give me your hands," Hal said, holding his own hands out for her to grab. She obliged.

The first thing Hal saw in his vision was evil corn. Karpoi maybe? Visions weren't always straight forward. The corn reached out, grabbing at a car - his car - as it drove down the road. Suddenly, the corn yanked the car backwards, causing it to flip over and -

Hal yanked back, causing Elizabeth to do the same.

"What did you see?" Elizabeth asked.

"Don't go," was all Hal could say.

"What, why?" Elizabeth asked. "I mean, this is a quest for my mother, if she-"

"Don't. You will die."

Elizabeth flinched. "I will?"

Hal nodded. "I-I can not tell you more. Even telling you this was a great risk. But promise me you won't go."

"I won't, don't worry." Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "I have plenty of siblings that can handle this, I was just the most eager to get out." She moved as if to leave, but stopped. "Why was telling me such a great risk?"

"I am not supposed to divulge what I see," Hal explained. "I have no doubt angered my father already. But as much as I despise getting involve in things like this, I could not let an innocent girl die."

"Thank you, then," Elizabeth replied. "For taking that risk. Maybe I could give you something in return?"

Hal chuckled. "I'm fairly well off, if you haven't noticed."

"I'm not talking about stuff like that," Elizabeth replied. She took a knife out of her bag. "This knife is supposed to protect its owner. Maybe, maybe it will protect you."

"Thank you," Hal said, taking the knife. "And be careful."

"I will. I promise."

Ten years ago

Hal studied the boy in front of him carefully. The vision he'd seen of his future was... discerning. Could the boy - not much older than Elizabeth had been - really go on to cause so much harm?

But Luke did have a point. Hal was already cursed, already punished. He couldn't come right out and say what he saw, but maybe there was some other way to change his future.

Elizabeth's knife, maybe? It was supposed to protect the owner, but she never said from what. Not Hal's curse for sure, but maybe...

And his diary, of course. If Luke could learn from past mistakes...

Annabeth stared at the two people staring down at her. Could they be serious?

No one took her seriously. Not about the monsters, not about the spiders, not about the nightmares... but the boy promised. She could trust a promise, right?

And he was offering her a knife, a weapon. As if she was someone who could be trusted, could be taken seriously. Not an attention-hogging seven-year-old like her parents had treated her.

No, they were treating her differently. And that's what she wanted.

Family.

So she took the knife.

“Family, Luke. You promised.”

#fanfiction #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy Jackson fanfiction #writing

[the-dreamer-traveller]

1000 Years After

The dream sets 1000 years in the future of Earth, where an apocalypse whose name is long forgotten and faded in the memories of mortalkind as mere myths. Now, life begins anew as humans return back to the Renaissance era, with magitek, steampunk, magical arts and beastmen run around the reformed Earth while humans are building their kingdoms.

Two different separated but vaguely connected events happen at the same time, in a land of knights and kings and wizards.

o----------------------------------------------------------------------o

The knights of Lordaeron prepare their cavalry and men for any upcoming attacks or invasion. Posted in Fort Alterac, the crowned prince Arthas Menethil stood between the steel-guarded gates of the fort, looking by the valley and plains of the land in front of him. He grips his elegantly crafted silver and iron sword with a gold-covered hilt, with his blue eyes scanning at the environment before returning to his men. Today, they are going to deal with an insurgent faction of the empire, with their red flying banners and flags as the sure signs of their act of turning their back against the Blue Lion of Earth.

The dream showcases an eagle’s view of the region, starting with Fort Alterac as the Lordaeron Knights are training and forming formations in the training grounds of the fort. The region reveals to be a large series of valleys and ravines with trees growing on top of the hills with large branches and leaves. There are several other plains by the different areas of the regions, each of them appearing to be occupied by a fort made by the humans. One of them, in logic of Warcraft III, is a fort that has red accents, which would indicate that this is one of the insurgent factions that Lordaeron has to eliminate. Other forts of differing factions include those with violet accents and those with cyan accents. What they denote is not revealed in this dream, as they can either be part of the insurgent factions, parts of a foreign nation or those aligned with Lordaeron.

In the meantime, the dream focuses somewhere else in the region, where a different short tale is about to begin.

o----------------------------------------------------------------------o

A Wampampura is a group of short, stocky furry humanoids around 3 to 4 feet tall, resembling like fat koalas due to their thick brown fur. Their faces are a bit circular or oval in shape, and notably has thinner and shorter fur. Their eyes are large, with large pupils and small scelera that made them look like living dolls. They also have button-like nose and a small mouth filled with small teeth with dentition similar to cats. They naturally have long black sharp claws on their hands and feet, as well as a short stubby tail that is partially hidden by their clothes. The Wampampura belongs to the beastmen that lives in the soil of the new Earth, and one of the fewer ones to attain higher intelligence, cooperation among of their species and forming civilizations.

The dream focuses on one of the Wampampura scouts, who patrols in one of the autumn forests that is near to the region of where the Lordaeron Knights are preparing for their attacks, spying them from one of the trees before putting away its binoculars and slowly climbing down the tree. Autumn forests are patches of forests with very large and thick trees that has orange leaves regardless of the season of the year that resembles like it is always in autumn. The forest is blanket with the leaves while the sun rays shine down in golden light, creating an illusion of perpetual autumn.

The Wampampura scout is outfitted with light, leather-based gear, and equipped with a bow in any hostile confrontation. It is best not to be fooled by their appearance, as they can target anyone with an arrow to their eyeball. The Wampampura swings from one tree and into another part of the autumn forest, before standing up to look by the distance of the forest. Farther in the view is a large wall of bronze steel, where smoke trails rise from in it. It appears to be a city of steel, but which faction and race is unknown. The late afternoon sky is seen above, as time is slowly running before his shift ends and returning back to town for a night of booze. The Wampampura shakes his head and continues to scout the forest, perhaps either out of prejudice of whoever belongs to the civilization, environmental reasons or just subtle racism.

The Wampampura doesn’t get much in scouting this particular autumn forest, as there can only be a few boulders that stick out of the forest ground. The Wampampura continues to scout, to find some more interesting sights for the day. Eventually, he succeeds, for he discovers an ancient and well-preserved rectangular building of the old world, dating about 1000 years when humans are the only species dominating the world and reach the age of space.

It has seen better days. What would have been a vibrant blue and turquoise painted building, it is now in a darker shade by dust and age. The windows are non-existent, having been blast off in the distant past or naturally fell off and remain hidden by the leaves. The doors are also gone, but any remains of them are untraceable, possibly being salvaged by other beastmen or humans. The only thing is left is to explore the interior, and there is no law that forbids them to enter buildings of the past. After all, they are not cursed, and they might find some good bounty.

Regardless, the Wampampura scout slowly approaches the building and looks at the interior.

The interior is mainly faded but appears to contain sand-like particles that blanket the floor. So far, there are no leaves that are inside. The interior seems to be a kitchen, by judging of a wooden table that doesn’t age for a bit, rows of cabinets on the bottom side and the upper sides, and what seems to be a refrigerator, an invention by some human that is revolutionary in the food industry. There is also a large rectangular metallic box in one of the building’s sides, with a glass on top of it, though there is an opening in it.

The sand-like particles on the floor are thick, covering several inches. They are also strangely colored, in shades of pink, blue, white, and green. The Wampampura decides to taste on the sand-like particles and scoops a handful of it and consumes in its hand. Unlike with most of the humanoids and beastmen, the Wampampura suffers no ill effects in consuming of old world food products, even if they are long expired, as the Wampampura’s diet contains food that are exclusively found in the soil, and are mainly eaten raw and unclean, making them in odds of the other races. A sweet sensation tings the Wampampura’s tongue, as its ears wiggle in delicacy pleasure.

The sand-like particles on the floor have the taste of ice cream, and its sweet flavor implies to be off vanilla or strawberry. The Wampampura scout begins to think that this is actually one of the ice creams of the old world, where it is converted into sand-like particles that can be stored in jars and kept in refrigerators, where only a mix of water will slowly turn them back to ice cream. The Wampampura looks at the refrigerator of the old building and notices a sizable hole in its glassy door. Whatever had happened back then, the ice cream sand spills on the floor and the rest became untold history.

There is also another treat that survives for 1000 years after, which the Wampampura scout found in the large rectangular box. Upon taking it out, the Wampampura held out a rectangular object covered in an ancient, indestructible material known as plastic. Colored red and white, the Wampampura exploits its weakness by tearing a certain part of it open, with its contents peaking out of the plastic. It is soft, covered in chocolate and nuts, while the inner contents of the food are white and has a piece of strawberry in it. The Wampampura notices this as an ice cream bar/sandwich, a popular delicacy among humans, both old and new. The Wampampura takes a bite and can taste the creamy and soft ice cream while also tasting the strawberry piece. Once again, aged products of the old world have no effect to the Wampampuras, and the scout clearly enjoys eating it. Even if it means selfishly eating them alone, the Wampampura acknowledges that humans continue to make them, but are unrealistically expensive as hell.

As there is nothing for it to do here, the Wampampura takes its leave and returns back to its town.

#dream #dream journal #earth #future

[icecreamkink]

*slides this here bc im still Not Happy With It but i also dont know if i even wanna continue it but i need to put it somewhere also @fangirl383 might or might not shoot me with her pink gun if i dont post Another wip she liked and i promised i would ha  h a*

“Listen, I know this isn’t an ideal situation—” Malfoy snorted in contempt. Harry ignored him. “But we’re doing a job and if you could not act like someone’s roping you into.. Into-  What the fuck are you doing n- ow” Harry groaned as Malfoy’s elbow somehow collided with Harry’s mouth despite the fact half of his body was half on top of Harry, and, rationally, it had to be an accident. But if there was someone who would contort themselves to make Harry’s life the most difficult possible, it would be Malfoy.

“Shut up, Potter.” The git said, not even bothering to apologize.

“Will you stop moving-”

“I’m trying to get a clear view.”

“Do you need to climb on me to do that?!”

“Well actually, I do since your intelligence landed us in a literal hole,” Malfoy hissed in his ear. Harry opened his mouth to protest that, but well. It was true, his team had been the one to inspect the terrain and find them their hiding spot - a cave so narrow that was indeed more of a hole, nestled at the bottom of a cliff, large enough to fit 1.25 person lying stomach down. Or two aurors, lying practically on top of each other, as it were. The location was ideal because it had a side view of the site they believed to be the smuggling ring HQ, but far enough that the protean spells didn’t reach it, and was naturally conspicuous through dense trees and small rocks (and for being as tiny as a rabbit hole, Malfoy had grumbled moodily) so they didn’t need to use so much magic to disguise themselves. A natural hiding spot, nearly undetectable, but not particularly comfortable, Harry had to admit.

Also it was just… weird to argue with someone when they were hissing against your neck. Harry scratched his nails where Malfoy’s warm breath had tickled it.

“What do you have those dorky glasses for if you need to strain so much.” Harry muttered pettily against his wand, currently pressed between his face, his sweaty hand and a piece of rocky earth. Ugh, it was so hot in here, the air thick and still, made all the worst by the invisibility mantle they had thrown over themselves; all the places he and Malfoy touched felt as if on fire, he had dirt everywhere and Malfoy’s huffed breathing on his ear did absolutely nothing to cool him down, only gave him weird goosebumps in his spine. Harry squirmed miserably, and got a very pointed elbow in the ribs for his trouble.

“My glasses aren’t dorky” Malfoy hissed in supercilious indignation. If Harry didn’t have to risk torticollis to do so, he would have turned his head to watch his eyes flash in all his mad inventor righteous fury.  “They are high level magical object research in trial period, designed to help oafs like you not get killed in the line of work. My glasses, dorky, honestly, you of all people saying that with those things you wear around since school-”  

“What are you talking about, I’ve been told my glasses are quite fetching. Witch Weekly did a whole article on it.” Harry grinned as Malfoy ground his teeth. He’d take all the amusement he could get, after all, and riling up Malfoy was always so much fun.

“Oh, if the pinacle of journalism in our country, Witch Weekly printed it” Malfoy said snidely. Then, as if physically unable to stop there, he continued. “For your information, these glasses are curse repellent, heat vision, magical signature identifying ones. It won me a research funding from the Research and Extension Division-”

“Yeah alright Doc Brown, what do you see then?” Harry interrupted, stretching his back in an attempt to soothe his aching shoulders.

“Nothing uh, much. Will you keep still?” Malfoy murmured, voice strained.

“I barely even mov-” Harry started to protest in indignation, but was cut off by Malfoy’s sweaty hand suddenly pressing against his mouth.

“Shhhh, someone’s coming.” Harry immediately tensed—well, as much as he could in this current predicament, as he could barely grip his wand. Thank Merlin he’d gotten better at wandless magic.

He could hear a faint rustling sound; Malfoy moved his hand into the curve of his neck and it felt oddly comforting. Harry could feel all of Malfoy’s muscles tensing where they pressed together.

Malfoy fiddled with his wand, and Harry faintly prayed he wouldn’t accidentally stab him in the eye with it, because that was just the type of thing to happen to him.

Somebody jumped on the plateau they were directly under, boots scuffing the ground above them.

“That’s it?” A voice echoed. Harry could see Malfoy pointing his wand at another one of his “assistance magical artifacts ” or as Harry called them, his crazy inventor gadgets. It was a little box, similar to a radio, and it buzzed softly at Draco’s murmured incantation, releasing the faintest golden glow.  

“Mmhm, just leave the merch on the front hall.” The person above them said. “Talk to Bre and only Bre, then get the fuck out. There’s a new shipment coming, and everyone’s on edge, don’t hang around more than you have to.” A new shipment. This could be their shot. Harry willed whoever was above them to casually drop a date. Possibly a location. And a list of names. His knees hurt.

“Right, no worries Reg. I’ll be in and out in a peep” A pair of gangly legs dangled in front of them, stumbled over a rock, and then took off briskly towards the house in the woods.

Malfoy shimmied above him, trying to get a closer look. He brought the little box close to his mouth.

“Suspect: Male, red hair, medium stature, grey robes, carrying a medium sized black box.” Malfoy said into it. A recording device, then. Clever.  “Entered the house at -” he paused expectantly, and Harry cast a quick tempus “12:47, sunday the 24th. The box doesn’t appear to be the size or type for containing snakes, so it’s possible it’s another type of ‘merchandise’.” Malfoy put the recording contraption back in his pocket, balancing himself with one hand at the small of Harry’s back.

Harry scowled, unamused at being used as a cushion.

“Next time, I’m topping.” He grumbled.

“What?”  Malfoy choked out, hand slipping down Harry’s back into his side, knuckles thudding against the bedrock.

“In the- the stakeout” Harry hissed, embarrassed. “I’m not your damn pillow.” He grumbled. Malfoy started to shake above him, his whole body vibrating, and with growing chagrin Harry realized he was laughing. He dropped his head into Harry’s shoulder, trying to stifle his giggles.

“Don’t worry Potter, I’ll be your pillow if you want. I’m very comfortable switching between top and bottom after all." He quipped, amusement laced in every word. Harry could feel his blush spreading like fire from his neck to the tip of his ears, and he dropped his head between his arms with a disconcerted groan.

“Oh my god, shut up.” He mumbled, and Malfoy laughed even harder, gleeful and evil, shaking Harry’s whole body. “Is there movement above us?” He said loudly, mostly to stray from the topic at hand.

“Hm.” Malfoy projected a small map of the terrain from the tip of his wand. “Nope. Reggie dear is...currently at the bottom of the hill, down the other side. You know, I don’t know what you’re complaining about, Auror Potter. You’re practically just lying there, I’m doing all the work here.” He drawled, injecting unnecessary lewdness to his voice, still faintly amused as it was. Harry could swear he seemed to be purposefully pressing even closer, his words just short of murmured against his ear.

The git.

“Lying here- How can I- You’re on top of,” Harry started, and felt Malfoy giggle again, then huffed and promptly shut up. “You’re fired.”

“You’re not my bo-oss” Malfoy sing songed, but moved out of his position anyway, sliding away from Harry and turning on his side.

Harry felt disinclined to face him while his cheeks were still flaming.

“Oh come on Potter, where’s your sense of humor?”

“You didnt seem to be in such a jaunty mood a minute ago.”

“Yes, your mortification greatly lifts my spirits.” A beat. “I’m versatile like that.”

Harry sighed, lifting his head. “I hate you so much.”

“That’s kind of why we’re here, isn’t it?” Malfoy hummed, cheek smushed against the palm of his hand. Harry made a noncommittal sound. They were here in a partly punishment mission to quote unquote ‘learn how to act like the twenty-three year old Auror you are, not a snotty fourteen year old whenever Auror Malfoy is concerned’, after his (and Malfoy’s) respective partners filed complaints against their methods and their fighting and their case-point competition. So while it was true their behavior got them here, saddled together in this weird, uncomfortable stake out, Harry wouldn’t say hate was what brought them; he didn’t argue with Malfoy or looked over his cases or felt the need to prove himself and best him out of hate, it was more of a... compulsion. It was just more -  fun, in the often glum and dreary line of work they’d chosen, to have Malfoy pay attention to him, meet him at every curve and breathe down his neck. To watch him rising to his baits when he poked fun at Malfoy’s clothes and hair and (admittedly ingenous) inventions. He admitted to himself that he liked the rivalry, was motivated by it.

But, of course, Harry wouldn’t tell him any of that. And it’s not like he enjoyed Malfoy literally breathing down his neck, so Harry pulled out his wand and checked the map himself instead of answering.

“There's… something moving through the field” Harry said, looking the small dot moving in a hurry. It was too small and moved strangely for a human. Could it be...

Malfoy rolled on top of him again, straining once more to try and see the scope of land.

Harry waited, tense as Malfoy tried to get a clear view.

“Oh.” Malfoy said, muscles unlocking from his coiled stance. “It’s your reptile.”

Harry lifted his head suddenly eager in an attempt to see, banging it painfully against Malfoy’s chin in the process.

“Fuck,” Malfoy hissed, quickly rolling as far away from him as was possible, which in case meant they still touched thigh to shoulder even with Malfoy on his side with his back pressed against the stone. He sent Harry a dark look, clutching his chin; Harry patted his head as condescendingly as he could, turning back to the map, eyes glued to little wiggling dot heading for them.

“Missster Harry, Missster Malfoy” Arnaud hissed in greeting, poking his scaly face into their cave, then quickly sliding into the middle of them both. Arnaud turned his head to Malfoy, flicking his tongue in further acknowledgement since he couldn’t understand him.

“Hey” Harry greeted with a smile even as he inspected him for any sign of injuries. “Is everything alright?”

Arnaud turned to him.

“Yesss, it’s all been really quiet. They’ve mosstly kept us in the cages ssso far, and I snuck out without them ssseeing me. They’ve received five more younglings today, along with eggsss, and theress a boy bringing something else. Sssomething I couldn’t sssee.”

“Did you hear something about another shipment coming tonight?”

“Yess” Arnaud said, lifting his head. “I hear the humans talking. Tonight, at midnight.”

 “The smugglers have been quiet, but more snakes and eggs were brought in today, and something else he couldn’t see. He confirms there’ll be a new shipment at midnight.” Harry translated.

“We have to report it back to the team. See if it’s the time for an ambush or to collect more data” Malfoy said. Arnaud nodded in approval.

“I should get back before they miss me.” Harry nodded, even as his stomach tightened.

“Tell him to be careful.” Malfoy said, looking out with furrowed eyebrows. Arnaud flicked both of their fingers and slithered quickly out with a hissed ‘don’t worry’.

“That’s our out then.” Harry sighed turning sideways too. Malfoy was staring at him, pressed as far back as he could against the rock wall; there was maybe an inch between them.

“You’ll write the report.” Malfoy said, trying to sit up slightly.

“What? Why?” Harry spluttered.

“You headbutted me.” Harry narrowed his eyes.

“You elbowed me in the face!” He shot back. Malfoy stared him down. Harry held his gaze. His eyes looked very dark in the shade.

“Rock parchment wand?”

“...Fine”

.

Malfoy was leaning against the wall of Kingsley’s office. The dark red wood set his hair off rather nicely, Harry noticed. With Arnaud perched on his shoulder like that, he could be a slytherin poster boy.

Robards was still complaining in the back, something about Harry and Malfoy competing for leads and ethics and immaturity or something. Harry wasn’t paying attention. His and Malfoy’s… methods were always questioned, but here they were, another case closed, weren’t they? That’s what should matter.

Behind Robard’s back Malfoy caught Harry’s eye, smirking minutely and winked. Harry bit the inside of his cheek. Prick.

Robards face acquired new shades of red, but Harry wasn’t listening at all. Malfoy outright grinned, bringing one hand to stroke the scales on Arnaud’s head and his stomach felt….weird. Somehow almost...fluttery?

Oh.

Oh.

Well, that was inconvenient.

#m. #drarry #otp: you wish #hp #harry #harry potter #draco malfoy #fic #textos #si gh #hpdm #auror fic #auror drarry #bre i am posting this for U #idk if i should post this to ao3? #cause idk if i want/should do sth more w it or not #ah whatever ill post it #mine #por mim #drarry fic #drarry squad #snake smuggling fic

[raywritesthings]

Lost in Translation 1/?

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: In a universe where people are born with the name of the person destined for them displayed on their skin, intergalactic soulmates can be rather difficult to navigate. AO3 link

The Time Lords told their young about soulmate markings the same way they told their young about everything else. Dispassionately, matter-of-factly, and with a sense that it was best not to dwell on something so base and trivial.

A quirk of biology, thought to be a leftover trait from the time of the Carrionites. Words, after all, had been their power, though there was certainly strength behind High Gallifreyan and even Circular Gallifreyan texts.

Neither a quirk of biology nor any written form of Gallifreyan could explain Theta Sigma’s marking, however.

“There are clearly four distinct symbols, though one repeats, you see?” He twisted in place to be able to look back at Koschei while also pushing the collar of his robe to the side. It wasn’t proper protocol to show someone else your marking, but children broke the rule all the time, even at the Academy.

“And they’ve always looked like that?”

“Of course they have. They’d be even more remarkable if they’d changed, I daresay.”

“Do you like to think they make you special?” Koschei drawled.

Theta flushed. “Well, no. Not special necessarily. Merely different.”

“You needn’t any help with being different.” He couldn’t very well disagree with his friend on that count.

Theta did protest, however, as Koschei stood and walked across the room. “Aren’t you going to show me yours?”

“Why should I?” His friend asked loftily. “They’re pointless to us Time Lords. I’m sure we’ll have evolved past them in a matter of generations. Who knows, maybe your nonsense symbols are the first sign.”

Years later, they were both deeply involved in their studies, and anything else hardly bore thinking about. At least, that had been the impression Theta was working under, only for Koschei to march into the room with no preamble one day while he was in the middle of testing his newest invention.

“I’ve found your symbols.”

“My what?”

“Your soulmate marking symbols,” he enunciated as though he thought Theta was being particularly thick today. Koschei set a thick tome down on his workbench. “They’re from a primitive language originating on the planet Sol Three. We’re going to be covering it along with several others next term.”

Theta was hardly concerned with the subject of next term’s classes, however. “And this language has a word with all of those symbols? In the exact order?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what does it mean? Out with it!” He urged.

Koschei rolled his eyes. “It simply means ‘lady’, silly. How very foolish of you. Not only could you not manage a soulmate marking in the proper language, you couldn’t even manage a name.”

Theta’s face felt very hot and he wished he wasn’t at the Academy at all, but back at the barn.

Koschei hardly seemed to notice, instead looking very pleased with himself for figuring out the mystery. That was true Time Lord arrogance, always the need to be clever.

“And what, may I ask, were you doing looking for my symbols, hm?” Theta demanded, if only to wipe the smirk off his face. “Thought you said they were nonsense.”

“Well — they are. I wasn’t looking for them. I was reading ahead in the course material. Obviously.” Koschei scoffed, but it didn’t sound as convincing as his usual.

“Obviously,” said Theta anyway. “Well then, it hardly bares discussing, does it?”

They never brought it up, nor did Theta Sigma bring it up to another person, ever again.

—-

To humanity, soulmate marks were a little slice of fairy tale in an ordinary, mundane world. Parents cooed over the name their baby was gifted at birth, perhaps picked a birthname they thought might sound nice together, then got caught up in the swirl of nappy changings, first steps, first words, teething, and so on. When the child was old enough to understand, that was when they were told about the mark — though that age varied depending on the parents, of course.

But Donna Noble had always understood. She wasn’t like other babies who were given a gift at birth. Donna Noble was given a curse.

The interlocking circles that spanned almost the expanse of her back were just another oddity, as if it wasn’t bad enough being ginger and never skinny, not even during her growth spurt. Dad and Gramps always had a good chortle over how mum had fainted straightaway at the sight of her mark.

“What is it, some kind of graffiti? My daughter’s got some street tag on her back, oh God,” was her refrain every time she glimpsed it. Donna learned to wear cardis and jackets and shawls, even to the pool.

“Now, now, Sylvia, I’m sure that’s not it,” her dad responded in a well-worn way every time, somehow striking the balance between exasperated and fond. Donna wouldn’t have believed in soulmates at all if she didn’t watch her parents somehow stay in love despite, well, everything.

Her dad was real good about the whole mark thing, really. “Do you want it removed, love?” He asked her one night near the end of primary school, rubbing the spot in soothing circles as Donna cried into her pillow. “People get that done, these days.”

“Would it hurt?” She asked in a small voice, lifting her face slightly to be understood.

“Well, I imagine it would a little. But we’d be right there, your mum and I, and your grandfather.”

Donna thought for a long moment. She imagined it would hurt an awful lot, and there was the question of money. Everyone at school already knew about it anyway, thanks to the girls who snickered behind her back in the locker rooms. There’d be no point now.

“They’re jealous,” her Gramps insisted, sitting in his chair on the hill. “You’ve got something they haven’t, sweetheart, and that makes you special.”

“But I don’t want it,” she replied, her knees drawn up to her chest as she sat on the grass beside him.

He chuckled, placing an arm around her shoulders. “Well, no no one asks for what they’re given. It’s their choice whether to make the most of it or not. You’ll see, love. One day, I’m sure of it. You’ll find your — well, whoever he is.”

Why was she the one who had to have it all muffed up? Oh sure, Susie from maths had a Tom; he’d be hard to find, but at least it was something. Some Tom out there in the world who could share everything with Susie if they ever met. Be her closest friend, her support, the one person who understood her completely. Donna didn’t even have the luxury of pretending.

There were some, people said, who weren’t born with anyone’s name marked upon their skin. They were said to be happy, that they never felt a lack. Sometimes Donna wished that she were like that; other times, the thought occurred to her that someone like her would never be good enough on their own going nowhere as she was, and imagining being alone in the universe her whole life terrified her. But she was as good as, wasn’t she?

Stupid circles. It wasn’t Chinese characters, or Japanese, or Korean; it wasn’t Arabic; it wasn’t even bloody hieroglyphics!

—-

When the Doctor first married, his wife trailed curious fingers over the old symbols but never asked. They had that understanding about each other. It was comfortable, it was easy. They were good to each other, and for each other, so his old teachers often remarked.

It was not the life he dreamt of, either when he closed his eyes or when he gazed up at the orange sky from his place lying on the red grass — his little Arkytior with him now, not Koschei — but he could not find it in himself to regret it. Not when he knew a hand in his was the only abatement to his loneliness, his sense of not belonging on Gallifrey, he was likely to ever receive.

And then he and Arkytior, now Susan — Rose, he had told her, was the proper translation of her name, but she had been adamant in choosing her own, the stubborn child — were no longer on Gallifrey, instead lost amongst the stars in a rickety Type 40 TARDIS he barely knew what to do with.

It was not until his travels took him to Earth with increasing regularity that he realized the symbols — D o n n a — were not just a word. They had also been adopted as a name. Humans named their infants lady sometimes. How curious.

Curiouser still, was the idea that he had been given the name of a human to wear. Him, a Time Lord, who lived for centuries and did perhaps grow old but changed rather than died. He had children and grandchildren, yet was not even middle-aged! What if he should meet this Donna tomorrow? How much of his life could he reasonably expect her to be a part of? A century? A handful of decades? It not only seemed foolish, it seemed cruel.

The Doctor did not seek out any of these Donnas, not like he might have in his true youth. Not when Susan left with her David — he hadn’t had the heart to check her marking; he did not wish to know what had her so taken with the human — not when Ian and Barbara left, not when he continued to travel and meet new humans with all variety of names that hurt him badly enough when they all in turn took their leave of him.

Not even after the Time War, when he was left with nothing. Not a people, not a family, not an other half. The temptation beckoned, but what other person could wish to share themselves with a monster like him now?

Instead, he found a new Rose. Different in many aspects to his precious granddaughter, but still he was unaccountably fond of the pink and yellow human who brought some of the old joy of traveling the stars back to his weary eyes. Despite some hiccups, such as accidentally taking her from her home for an entire year, she seemed to like him a great deal as well.

The Doctor did not realize just how much, unfortunately, until he lost her too.

“Wait,” Rose said, clearly struggling not to break down on her end of the connection he had created to say a proper goodbye to her on the parallel world. “Wait, before you- before you’re gone, I need to know. Is it you?”

“Is what me?”

“The name I’ve got. Is it yours?” To his dismay she turned around, unzipping her jacket with the clear intent of showing him her mark. “Yours is mine, isn’t it? I love you.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he sighed, his hearts sinking. She flickered, then faded from view as the connection weakened and then died, not before he glimpsed markings in a twenty-six character alphabet clear as day.

What had he done? All that time, had he led her to believe — oh no. No wonder Jackie and Mickey had often viewed him so poorly.

This soulmate business truly was horrid and pointless, his old friend had been right all along. The Doctor resolved then and there to forget the entire thing. Not just forget, he would actively ignore and work against it. He could tattoo over the name like the Corsair used to do, make sure every companion knew corresponding soulmate markings between species was an impossibility — he’d told worse lies. Do everything in his power to halt the idea in its tracks before it even began to germinate.

Then he turned around to find a ginger bride standing in his TARDIS.

—-

Donna Noble flitted from relationship to relationship after school. Between being a temp and her own unique situation, nothing ever felt like a good fit. Not to mention, all the times she was dumped soon as her time was up at this or that office. She was just practice, her mum always said. People wanted to be able to impress their soulmate on the first go.

It would be just the same at her new job, her mother harangued her as she applied, got the assignment, and prepared for her first day at H.C. Clements. No one would be taking any special interest in her except as a cheap date.

But then Lance Bennett from Human Resources smiled at her across the office and gestured to the coffee machine. He was nice, friendly, and certainly her type. Basically, a dream come true, and Donna had given up dreaming a long time ago.

She couldn’t imagine why the Head of Human Resources at a posh company like this would be interested in her of all people. Unless...

“This isn’t cause you’ve got a Donna you’re looking out for, is it? Am I the first one you’ve met?” Donna demanded over the third coffee in as many days, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Lance pulled a face. “Oh, I don’t put any stock in that rubbish.”

Her heart leapt. “Really?”

“Why would I tie myself down to someone just because of their name? It’s nonsense. I could be totally wrong about them being ‘the one’, couldn’t I?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Donna enthused. “Unless, you know, it’s like something real specific. My friend, her parents stuck her with Nerys. Said it’d be unique enough for her soulmate to find her right away. Well they haven’t yet!” She laughed, and Lance smiled at her and Donna felt so much better about this, about everything.

Maybe Lance wasn’t meant to be her ‘one’. But if neither of them minded, what was the harm?

She couldn’t wait for him to pop the question. What if he changed his mind? What if he met someone off the street with the name she refused to even look at? Donna didn’t get lucky like this. It was now or never if she didn’t want to end up the old maid her mother said she was destined to be. Who cared about destiny? She was choosing to love Lance.

And he’d said yes. The wedding was being planned, her mum flying into a frenzy of activity all of a sudden. Even Nerys agreed to be maid of honor, though she claimed it was due to needing to be there to believe it. They booked St. Mary’s and a hall for the reception, and Donna went for a dress fitting. She made sure to pick one that, between the veil and her hair, would cover up the old mark. A wedding dress fitting, it was actually happening!

Her only regret was Gramps coming down with the Spanish Flu. Of course she urged him to go to hospital, but she would have loved to have him there with her mum and dad. Part of her considered delaying the whole thing, just by a week to see if he’d be any better by then, forget the honeymoon in Morocco. Lance assured her that they would be filming it anyway and he’d see the whole thing, and that calmed her down a bit.

Of course, she was a whole different bundle of nerves the day of the wedding. Donna couldn’t believe this was happening to her! Each step she took down the aisle was a step closer to the rest of her life. She was beaming ear to ear, practically glowing!

No, hang on, she really was glowing. Donna stopped in the middle of the aisle in shock as she lit up bright gold. There was a strange sensation, it almost felt like an invisible pull on her. Everyone was staring, and it wasn’t because she was the bride.

Donna screamed.

She blinked and suddenly found herself standing in the strangest room she’d ever seen. Everyone from the wedding was gone. Instead, staring across at her in bewilderment was the skinniest bloke in a suit she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

“What?”

“Who’re you?” Asked Donna.

“But.” That was it, he didn’t actually have an ending to that.

“Where am I?” She demanded next.

He switched right back to, “What?”

“What the hell is this place!”

“What?”

#ten x donna #doctor x donna #donna noble #tenth doctor #doctor who #the doctor #my writing