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bokettochild · 3 years

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Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe crack #idiot writes crack #lu four #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wind #lu twilight #animatic #legend and four are best friends shoot me

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riversofmars · 3 years

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The final chapter! It's been a wild ride! As sad as I am that this story is coming to a close, it also always feels like a great relief when a long, complicated adventure gets wrapped up before spinning out of control lol. I hope the ending will be as satisfying for you as it was for me to write it.

Chapter 15: When the Ends Justify the Means

Gallifrey, during the Time War

The Dreadshade’s explosion was disorienting and gave the Twelve the opportunity to flee the Panopticon. Gravely injured, she staggered down the corridor without a destination in mind, her only goal was to put as much distance as possible between the Doctor and herself. She wanted to die in her own time. She had miscalculated and she was about to pay the price, her body was already fizzing with regenerative energy. She had one more regeneration left - twelve to thirteen - but was it worth it? All her personalities seemed to have an opinion. All things considered, the Twelve had been good at keeping them in check but as her physical strength was waning, so was her mental resolve.

“You have been a disappointment,“ the Eleven was of course the first to comment on their demise.

“You didn’t last two minutes,“ the Four added, equally as condescendingly.

“What an embarrassing miscalculation with the Dreadshade,“ the Seven huffed, as if that could never have happened to him.

“Never could keep your mouth shut, could you,“ the One scolded.

“Shut up, all of you,“ the Twelve snapped, wincing in pain as every cell in her body started to burn up. “Maybe this is it, maybe we should just put ourselves out of our misery…“ It was certainly worth considering. She was tired of the eternal struggle and she didn’t want to become just another voice, trapped in the back of the mind of a mad man.

“One last try,“ the Nine insisted and the Six added:

“Make them all pay.“

“But how?“ The Twelve stumbled. She collapsed against a pillar. She had made it to the Matrix chamber. Surely, no-one would assume she was there. She felt the ancient power of the Matrix reach out to her. Maybe she wouldn’t regenerate after all. Maybe she would just enter the Matrix and that was that. She could feel its power engulfing her and images started flashing before her eyes. Exciting, thrilling images at that: The Citadel in ruins, Gallifrey on fire. The Twelve laughed at how beautiful a sight it was and how much she longed to see it being accomplished. They had always treated her as the outsider, the black sheep, the one that had gone wrong. They deserved to pay.

“Look at my work, Doctor, and despair!“ There was a man with dark hair and beard, and with him a blonde woman whom he had addressed and who appeared devastated at the sight in front of her.

“All this death… finally makes you happy?“ She turned to the man and the Twelve felt like she was looking right at her. She recognised the Doctor, even with a new face and a very different one at that. She looked so much older than the Doctor she had last encountered.

“Ecstatic,“ the man answered with a wide grin.

“And has it calmed all the rage?“ The Doctor demanded, leaning in closer, baring her teeth like a wild animal, intent on intimidating him and ready to leash out.

“I don’t think anything could ever do that,“ the man answered almost thoughtfully and the Twelve felt the sentiment in her very bones. She had tried to be better, in some small way. Not like the Eight but… better. And where had it got her? The rage was burning more fiercely than ever before and she smiled, a little at first and then, her face contorted into a wide grin as her skin started glowing. She had seen the future, she knew what she would be working towards. She would make them all pay.

“That’s right, that’s it. Burn Gallifrey to the ground. Make them pay,“ the Three was utterly delighted at the prospect, and even the Five had to admit:

“I’m partial to a beard, that is a future I’m keen to experience.“

“Fine, one last time. Just to make them pay,“ the Twelve giggled and regenerative energy burst out of her skin, shaping her body in accordance with the image she had seen.

——

Unknown Location

The Doctor spun her sonic in her hand as she regarded the Thirteen.

“It took me far too long to catch on, that’s on me. I did think it odd when you hardly spoke to Kate and Martha at all, considering that we do know each other pretty well. But the complete lack of your other personalities surfacing did have me fooled, you’re really not that great at controlling them. But when I realised who you are working with, you were bound to have taken a neural inhibitor from Gallifrey just in case,“ the Doctor explained with a triumphant smirk. “Neat trick, that you put a bandage around your arm like the Master had, that was clever.“ It had been a believable ruse.

“Your epiphany comes far too late as always, Doctor. The trap is sprung, you’re here, where we want you,“ the Thirteen snarled, slowly regaining control of his personalities again upon their chaotic release.

“What do you need me for anyway? You were right there on the TARDIS with me the entire time, why not kill me when I had my back turned? Why bring me here?“ The Doctor fixed her eyes on him.

“We have been carrying out very important work here,“ Padrac announced. “We will bring back the Time Lords and since your son’s DNA clearly doesn’t cut it, we are having to go back to the source once more.“ Padrac had hoped they would be successful with the Doctor’s child but clearly the genetic inheritance of River Song muddled the results somewhat.

“The Time Lords are gone. For good this time. You can’t just bring them back,“ the Doctor’s eyes shot to him.

“You watch me,“ Padrac smirked. “And your precious humans, no less. I did give it some thought, you know, and I figured: what a poetic justice. You’re the reason our people are dead, so I’m going to take your favourite race from you in turn.“ The Doctor recognised an age-old bitterness in him and she wondered if maybe part of him had been aware of the passage of time while in stasis, plotting his revenge and his anger festering over millennia.

“Giving them immortality hardly seems like taking them from me,“ she shot back.

“Not all of them of course. Just the ones that prove themselves worthy,“ Padrac carried on to explain.

“You mean, anyone that will follow you,“ the Doctor concluded, and the blond Time Lord nodded:

“People like Daniel Barton were more than eager to join the course.“

“I bet,“ she huffed. People like Daniel Barton would never miss out on an opportunity such as that. She returned her attention to the Thirteen: “And you? Out for your own skin? Twelve regenerations aren’t enough for you, are they, so close to the end?“

“You owe me a few, yes,“ the Thirteen chuckled.

“And for your last one, the Master’s face… how did that happen?“ The Doctor asked as it seemed like an incredible coincidence, even if they were working together.

“Oh this?“ The Thirteen pointed to his face and snarled: “Thought it was me, when the Matrix showed me the destruction of Gallifrey. Silly mistake. I so hoped it would be me to do that… small disappointments. Suffice to say I’m looking forward to getting a new face once we’re done here.“

“And the Master? Pulling the strings? What’s in it for him?“ It remained the one mystery she still couldn’t figure out. The Master had destroyed the Time Lords, why would he want to help Padrac bring them back? The Master had killed the Eleven, why now align himself with the Thirteen? It made no sense. “Where is he?“

——

“Stay where you are,“ River insisted, keeping her gun on the Master.

“River!“ Jack exclaimed, delighted to see her and worried she might make a foolish decision. “No need for that,“ he assured her, trying to make her lower the gun.

“Jack, what are you doing with him?“ River frowned.

“We’re escaping, he released me, and we’re just getting Ryan and Graham,“ Jack tried to explain but everybody else found that incredibly hard to believe.

“He released you?“ Graham asked, incredulous.

“Yes, that’s what I was just about to tell you,“ Jack nodded, looking into disbelieving faces.

“There is really no need, Professor Song,“ the Master spoke up at last, focusing his eyes on River who stared back at him with unveiled distaste.

“You bet there isn’t. You don’t know who you’re dealing with,“ River spat, good and ready to pull the trigger.

“Professor, contrary to what you might believe, I am here to help, and I’m glad to see you received my message, even if it needed redirecting a few times. Couldn’t risk being traced,“ the Master was patient to explain.

“That message was you?“ Yaz looked to River who appeared just as stunned. The only reason they had been able to find their way here had been a message, relayed through the Archangel network, with spacetime coordinates and passage codes. The person that had sent it had even been kind enough to lower the protective force fields around this place. They had presumed it was Jack’s accomplishment.

“I think you’re thinking of the wrong person.“ The Master frowned, realising the mistake.

“The wrong person?“ River echoed and he nodded:

“I’m not the Thirteen. I am the Master.“

“The Master? No, impossible, I have met the Thirteen and the Master and you are most definitely…“ River started, and he interrupted her firmly, they didn’t have time for this.

“We have the same face,“ he explained upon realising the last face of his that River Song had seen, had been Missy. The confusion could be forgiven.

“Who’s the Thirteen?“ Ryan, Graham and Jack exchanged confused glances. “That’s most definitely the Master.“

“How is that possible?“ River asked and the Master took a step closer to her, her gun pressing into his torso.

“I will tell you but first, you put the gun down, there is somewhere we need to be“, the Master insisted. “I will explain on the way.“

“He has been helping us so far,“ Jack said, hoping to assure everyone around.

“Why would I trust you? You are just as bad as the Thirteen…“ River started, slowly wrapping her head around the fact that two of her spouses' enemies were involved in this convoluted plot.

“I’ve had children… so has the Doctor, before now, I mean…“ The Master answered, and it was an explanation enough. “And when you’ve lost a child… you don’t let that happen to anyone else, your friend or your enemy.“

“Where are we going?“ River lowered her gun.

“To save your son,“ the Master explained. “And your wife, though I am less keen on that part.“

——

“The Master?“ Padrac echoed and nearly started laughing. “What has he got to do with anything?“

“He’s in on this, isn’t he?“ The Doctor frowned, confused by his reaction.

“The Master? You seem to forget he killed my eleventh self!“ The Thirteen laughed. “He’s better off running, if I get my hands on him, I will kill him.“

“Then how did he willingly swap places with you?“ The Doctor looked in between the other two Time Lords.

“Coward. He stole my TARDIS on Demon’s Run, without him there would have been no need for me to stoop so low and impersonate him,“ the Thirteen snarled.

“Hang on, you mean you’ve come straight from Demon’s Run without your TARDIS and you haven’t been back here?“ It was Padrac’s turn to look confused now.

“When would I have had the opportunity to do that?“ The Thirteen looked at Padrac bewildered.

That’s when it dawned on Padrac that there was an unbidden guest in their midst. He slammed the communicator on his wrist.

“Lock down the base, check on the prisoners,“ he ordered but there was no response. “Hello?“

“Something the matter?“ The Doctor grinned when the penny dropped for her too. She was not the only one that had fallen for the old switcheroo.

“The com-lines are down. What have you done?“ Padrac yelled at the Doctor.

“Me? Nothing, but I think I may have underestimated my oldest friend,“ she grinned in return.

“Ma’am?“ Strax took the opportunity to tug at the Doctor’s sleeve.

“Yes, Strax?“ She asked.

“Do you think now would be a good time to…“ He nodded towards the guards.

“Now would be a perfect time to,“ the Doctor nodded in confirmation, and Strax didn’t need to be told twice. Neither did any of the others, they threw themselves at the guards, and a wild fistfight broke out.

“Imbeciles, subdue them!�� Padrac shouted but with Jenny and Vastra in possession of swords, momentum quickly shifted.

That was when Padrac panicked, drawing upon his last resort. It was a mad gamble but he dashed to the wall controls and lowered the temporal grace field. With a blinding flash, the grenade that Strax had engaged before went off. Padrac was most disappointed when he realised it had only been a flash grenade with the purpose of disorienting the enemy. The Doctor’s friends weren’t mad enough to gamble their lives after all. It was enough to disorient them as advertised, and the Thirteen grasped his opportunity. He surged forward and wrapped his arm around the Doctor’s neck, pressing a knife to her throat.

“Doctor!“ Vastra exclaimed when she got her bearings back and realised what was going on.

“You’re coming with me!“ The Thirteen snarled.

“Calm down everyone, it’ll be fine!“ The Doctor shouted to her friends.

“Surrender or the Doctor dies!“ Padrac shouted.

“Nah, that’s your problem, we’re out of here,“ the Thirteen pulled the Doctor along, and Padrac realised he had backed the wrong horse.

“Just you and me then?“ The Doctor huffed at the Thirteen, shooting her friends reassuring glances. “Why not! Lead the way.“ She allowed herself to be dragged away down the corridor.

“Do something!“ Padrac was shouting panicked commands at his few remaining soldiers but to no avail, he was cut off moments after by the arrival of more unbidden guests.

“Show’s over, Padrac,“ the Master snarled but it was River that struck him down with a right hook that sent him flying. And just like that, the fighting was over.

“Professor Song!“ Vastra exclaimed in delight as Strax set about putting handcuffs on the unconscious Time Lord. That had been quite the right hook.

“Yaz!“ Jenny called in relief and Gwen was quick to rush to their friends as well:

“Jack! Ryan! Graham! You’re ok!“ There was a moment of elation in victory.

“Vastra! Jenny! Strax!“ River was overwhelmed. “Kate, Gwen, Martha, Mickey… wow, that’s quite the…“ She looked around the room, noticing one very important person amiss: “Where is the Doctor?“

“The Thirteen took her…“ Kate answered quickly and picked up her gun. Now that the temporal grace field was gone, they were of use again.

“This way Professor.“ The Master wasted no time to drag River along.

——

“What do you think you’re doing?“ The Doctor asked as the Thirteen forced her onto a stretcher, strapping her to it. They found themselves in what the Doctor could only presume to be the main laboratory at the heart of the base.

“Shut up. I can do this,“ the Thirteen hissed as he turned to the instruments but seemed at an utter loss.

“No you can’t, you haven’t been here, you don’t know anything about the research, you were in the TARDIS with me,“ the Doctor reasoned.

“Shut up!“ The Thirteen snapped again. “I need to focus.“ His voice was tense, his posture jittery, and his eyes darted in between the instruments indecisively. The Doctor saw her opportunity. The Thirteen was slowly panicking.

“You’re going off the rails, it’s all going wrong, isn’t it, you can’t focus,“ she said, poking the bear.

“Shut up!“ The Thirteen roared, with the Six taking over.

“Can’t do it, can you? What are you even doing?“ The Doctor sensed she was on the right path so she pushed on as the Thirteen picked up a syringe. “Not that one.“

“I don’t need you to be conscious,“ the other Time Lord spat with the Seven emerging, his movements more purposeful.

“Yeah you do, cause you need my help,“ the Doctor insisted and the response was quick and violent:

“I don’t need your help!“

“If you don’t, then why haven’t you done it already?“ The Doctor put on her best condescending smirk.

“Doctor!“ A voice called from the door and the Doctor allowed herself a sigh of relief. She had no words for how happy she felt for hearing her wife’s voice again and to see her rush towards her, followed by ample reinforcements.

“Hello all,“ she smiled though she only had eyes for River. For a moment she even forgot about the Thirteen and her own precarious situation. Her hearts burst with joy of seeing her wife alive after having presumed her dead for so long.

“Step away from her.“ It was the Master’s snarl that drew her back to reality. The Master of all people advanced towards the Thirteen who was his spitting image.

“I don’t think so, no no no, I've got to finish this.“ The Thirteen shook his head and quickly retrieved his knife to press it to the Doctor’s throat again.

“Get away!“ The Master repeated, his voice low and threatening.

“No, you get away!“ The Thirteen exclaimed, his eyes darting around the room, and he slammed a button on the workstation.

Suddenly, out of a hidden dimension, a cot appeared.

“Phased a few seconds out of time, clever.“ The Doctor balled her hands to fists as she laid eyes on her son for the first time. River gasped in surprise and the Master squared his jaw, watching as the Thirteen picked up the child as a means of defence. River was about to go for him but the Master held her back.

“Out of here, all of you!“ The Thirteen barked. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret!“ The Doctor exchanged a glance with the Master and forced her mind into sharp focus. She couldn’t allow emotions to cloud her judgement, not now, not when River was barely holding it together. The Doctor looked to her wife, the expression of pain and longing on her face broke her hearts, as she struggled against the Master’s firm grip.

“Someone help me out of this!“ The Doctor called and Vastra was quick to oblige as the Thirteen watched with mad determination.

“Don’t try anything!“ He threatened and the baby in his arms started crying.

“I’m going to kill you,“ River growled trying to reach for her gun but the Master continued to restrain her. He glanced to the Doctor who took a deep breath, deciding on the best course of action. She knew how to deal with a mad man, she had plenty of practice.

“See, here’s the thing, whatever you’ve been doing here, I can’t let it continue, all of this, it needs to go,“ the Doctor said, facing the Thirteen. She focused on his face, rather than the crying infant in his arms. She couldn’t get distracted. “So what we’re going to do is blow this whole place up.“

“You can’t,“ the Thirteen spat. “Not while I have your child!“

“Yes, we can. You’ve drawn the short straw in this standoff. We can blow this place up anytime. I’ll regenerate, so will the Master, so will my son! Really, it’s just you that’s left, isn’t it, and you will die a proper death this time,“ she stated, her voice low and threatening.

“Get everyone else out of here and get the Sontaran to rig the place,“ the Master called to Vastra. The Silurian shot a quick glance to the Doctor who just nodded in confirmation.

“Out of here, everyone!“ Vastra ordered and Kate relayed her order, they had to trust that the Doctor knew what she was doing.

“I’m staying as well, I’m not going anywhere until I have my son,“ River announced and stopped struggling at last. She realised her wife knew what she was doing and she chose to trust her. The Master, in turn, let go of her.

“There is a compromise to be made here, Thirteen,“ the Doctor took a step towards the renegade, demanding his attention as the room emptied. “You’re scared of dying, I get that, I can help, we can help. The Master has expertise in this too, we can give you another circle of regenerations but only once you hand my son over to River.“ She looked to the baby who’s hair was beginning to turn to soft curls, reminiscent of his mother’s. “Or we go the nuclear option.“ Her eyes snapped back up to the Thirteen. “What the hell, time for a new face.“

“I was looking forward to getting to know this one,“ River commented with a sigh.

“Sorry, love.“ The Doctor gave a soft smile, and the Master went along with it as well:

“Ah what the hell, I don’t want to be left looking like him anyway.“

“Fine, fine!“ The Thirteen exclaimed, feeling the pressure but panicked again when the Doctor stepped closer: “No, no, don’t come closer, you give me what I want first!“ He demanded. “You have no way of knowing whether he will regenerate or not! His DNA wasn’t enough to replicate the process, what makes you think the little mudblood can even regenerate? You fix up the serum first!“ He gestured towards the medical instruments.

“Alright look, here…“ The Doctor held up her hands appeasingly and turned to the workstation. She picked up a syringe. With all eyes on her, she drew up a sample of her own blood and placed the syringe back on the tray. “If you run it through the sequencing process and then generate the serum, it should work.“

“How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?“ The Thirteen spat.

“That’s the sort of thing you’d do, I’m not like you. Now, you haven’t got much time.“ The Doctor took a step closer and held her hands out to him. The Thirteen made no attempt at handing over the child. The Doctor pulled out her screwdriver and returned to the work station. She soniced it once she found what she was looking for and pressed a button. “Start a countdown and blow up this place in five minutes,“ she spoke into the newly restored intercom, and only seconds later Kate replied on the same channel:

“Affirmative, we’re out of here, Doctor, starting the countdown for five minutes. Good luck!“ The line went dead with static.

“See?“ The Doctor turned back to the Thirteen. “Clock is ticking, time to make a decision, hand over my son.“

“No, no, no, it’s a trick,“ the Three pushed to the forefront of the Thirteen’s mind.

“No tricks but a ticking clock,“ River announced, taking a step towards him. “You still have time to get out of here with the serum.“ She pulled her gun on him for added pressure but she didn’t dare fire, her eyes fixed on her son. The Thirteen was right of course, there was no way of knowing whether their son was actually able to regenerate. It stood to reason as she had been able to herself at some point too, but it was not a given. She couldn’t take the risk. She trusted her wife knew what she was doing. She had dealt with the Thirteen far more frequently than the Master or she herself had.

“Feeling the pressure yet?“ The Master for his part appeared to be enjoying the sense of impending doom as he took a twirl.

“What are you doing?“ The Thirteen shrieked.

“You were never good under pressure, none of you were,“ the Doctor commented. “Four and a half minutes.“

“Stop it!“ The Thirteen shouted.

“Why, are we confusing you?“ The Master laughed.

“Give them the child!“ One of the Thirteen’s personalities shouted in near panic. “No, don’t, kill them, get out of here, kill the child and run-“ Another protested. “No, don’t, stop it, we can’t keep going like this, thirteen is enough, no more, please!“ Yet another interrupted pleading, until the Thirteen regained control. “Shut up all of you!“ He yelled, pressing a hand to his temple.

“Eight! Was that you?“ The Doctor recognised the voice that had pleaded for them to stop.

“Yes, but I can’t hold on, they’re all fighting amongst each other, too much-“ The Eight was there, distinct amongst the other voices, but the Thirteen forced him back: “Back in your box, Eight!“

“Some of you are reasonable, Twelve, you know this is just a stupid way to go! Seven, you too! Eleven, after everything, your desperate struggle for survival, are you really going to let it end like this?“ The Doctor saw her chance and the Thirteen was staggering now, disoriented.

“Four minutes,“ the Master interjected.

“Eight, come on, you can do it,“ the Doctor implored him.

“No. No, no, no, no,“ the Thirteen whimpered.

“Doctor, we need to do something.“ River was getting nervous, they weren’t getting anywhere.

“Help me,“ the Doctor said and River turned back to the Thirteen.

“Eight, remember when we met? The Doomsday Chronometer? You were trying to stop Padrac and your future self then, you can do it again now,“ she drew his attention away from the Doctor. She tried her best to recall the Eight when he had been himself. Kind, helpful and good, perhaps the Doctor was right, perhaps he could do this one last thing for them. “You are a good man!“

“NO! Shut up!“ The Thirteen yelled but River’s words cut through the chatter. “Professor, I’m so sorry, I can’t…I… don’t want to keep doing this anymore, please, you have to stop this.“ The Eight was back and he staggered forward.

“Three minutes,“ the Master announced.

River rushed forward and met the renegade Time Lord half way. The Eight held on just long enough to hand over the child and River pulled her son into her arms.

“It’s okay, Eight, it’s okay, thank you!“ The Doctor let go a sigh of relief.

“You are an embarrassment, we will bury you…“ The Thirteen shouted, wrestling control from his past self and River didn’t hesitate. She pointed her gun at him and shot him square in the chest.

“River!“ The Doctor exclaimed, shocked. “What have you done?“

“What the Eight wanted,“ River answered as she watched the Thirteen drop to all fours, his lives and energy spent. There was no golden hue, no fizzing of energy, not this time. They didn’t hang around to witness what happened next, their time was up.

“Let’s get out of here before the place blows up,“ the Master grabbed both of their arms and pulled them along, back to the TARDIS that they had two and a half minutes to get working again. With all the shields and suppression fields lifted, it was the easiest job of the day.

——

The TARDIS

“How… are you doing…“ The Doctor took a step towards River as the TARDIS launched and made for Torchwood Two.

“Good… we’re both… good…“ River managed a little smile as she smoothed back her son’s curls. “We should run a scan, maybe, make sure he’s really, properly, okay…“ She hummed but for the moment, she contented herself by holding him close. He had settled in her arms as if he had never been away.

“I can’t believe you’re really here…“ The Doctor breathed, looking at River in wonder. Against all odds, her wife had returned to her. It had been a most painstaking adventure but maybe, just this once, the end justifies the means.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…“ River met her eyes and the Doctor just smiled.

“Things got away from us a little bit, didn’t they,“ the Doctor sighed and River chuckled.

“All is well that ends well.“ She reached out and cupped her wife’s cheek. “Thank you for coming for us.“

“Always,“ the Doctor promised and pressed a soft kiss to her wife’s lips.

“Do you want to hold him?“ River asked and the Doctor bit back tears.

“Yes, please,“ she whispered and River passed their son to her. She rested her head on her shoulder as she watched her wife and son get acquainted. The Doctor swallowed and took a deep breath, struggling for composure as she ran her hand along her son’s cheek and the baby reached out, curling it’s little hand around her finger.

“He will need a name,“ River hummed and pressed a kiss to her wife’s cheek.

“Master Junior!“ The Master called from the console and River and the Doctor looked around, the perfect family moment ruined. They had completely forgotten he was even there. “Sorry, were you not quite done yet? It’s not like she’s in any state to come up with a name now anyway,“ he snarked. “I’ll have us arrive in six hours time then, shall I? Give everyone a chance to get back to your little base yeah?“ He gestured to the TARDIS controls. “Am I the only one who thinks practically around here?“

“This doesn’t undo what you did on Gallifrey…“ The Doctor spoke at last.

“No, I don’t suppose it does…“ He retorted without looking at her, his voice surprisingly reflective.

“But it’s a start.“

——

Torchwood Two Hub, 21st Century

“Thank you all so very much,“ the Doctor looked around the room to her numerous friends who had managed to make their way back to their base. She was beyond relieved to find them all with only minor injuries from the fistfight and in good spirits all round. They had won!

“It has been a pleasure,“ Kate took it upon herself to speak for all of them. They all shared the same sentiment.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, any of you. I’m sorry if… I was a bit much to deal with at times…“ The Doctor looked around the room into knowing faces.

“That’s an understatement…“ Yaz huffed and everybody laughed. In victory, the bumps and bruises they had sustained along the way were forgotten. What mattered was that the Doctor’s child was safe. The little boy was sleeping peacefully in River’s arms after they had checked him over and he turned out to be completely fine.

“Sorry, but are we going to forget all the Master’s crimes because he did one nice thing?“ It was Martha that felt she needed to be the voice of reason as she pointed to the Master who was hanging back, staying close to the door as if ready to make an escape at any point. It was obvious from his body posture that he didn’t feel he belonged here.

“No, but I am under the impression the Master is eager to make amends,“ the Doctor announced looking around to him.

“I am?“ He frowned and she nodded.

“He is,“ she confirmed. She had had a little bit of time to consider the best course of action and she felt confident she had found it. “There is a TARDIS in the wreckage of that place… you will find it, repair it and for your first trip take Madame Kovarian and Padrac to suitable new homes.“

“Where might that be?“ River asked. She herself would probably have opted for executing both of them, a sentiment the Master surely could get behind, but she knew it wasn’t the Doctor’s way. She was still upset with her for having shot the Thirteen but she had come around to see her reasoning. The Eight had asked for a release, and it was the only thing they could do for him, after he had returned their son to them.

“Stormcage for Madame Kovarian, I was thinking, time she found out where her schemes led River and how thoroughly unpleasant prison can be when you haven’t got the luxury of a Time Lord bailing you out now and again,“ the Doctor answered. “And I think Padrac would like to return to Gallifrey, wouldn’t he? To the ruins of it. Let him try and rebuild there.“

“I suppose so,“ the Master huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It wasn’t the most unpleasant task. He would enjoy dropping Padrac on the dead rock that was their home world, it seemed like just punishment, and while he didn’t have much of an opinion on Madame Kovarian, it was a favour he wouldn’t mind doing the Doctor and her wife. All things considered, he would walk out of the arrangement with a TARDIS of his own so it seemed worth the trouble.

“And, as hopeful as I might be that you have changed your ways, I am not inclined to believe it just yet. So I would suggest an entourage of Torchwood and UNIT agents? I’m sure they would appreciate your help in dealing with the frequent incursions they face,“ the Doctor carried on, a winning smile crossing her features.

“Come on, Doctor, that’s not…“ The Master started to protest but she shook her head.

“No, you’re not getting out of it. You have amends to make. Remember my time as a UNIT special advisor? Let’s say it’s your turn now.“

“How long for?“ The Master huffed.

“Until I am satisfied that you have repaid your debt. You have destroyed one of my homes, now you can do your bit to protect the other,“ the Doctor explained sternly. “At least while I take some time away to be with my family.“

“Anything else?“ The Master sighed, exasperated.

“That’ll do for now, I’ll be in touch. I would have said you can drop Vastra and the gang on your way but I suppose they might want to get home sooner rather than later.“ The Doctor smiled at Vastra, Strax and Jenny who this fateful adventure had started with. “Come on guys, let’s drop you home.“ She nodded for them to follow out of the hub and back to the surface where her TARDIS was parked. “And you, my brave, wonderful friends…“ She beamed at the remainder of her companions, words failing her for how grateful she was to each and every one of them.

“I’m sure we will do just fine with our new recruit.“ Kate gave her a reassuring smile.

“No doubt about it,“ Jack confirmed with a grin, as did Gwen, the Osgoods, Martha and Mickey.

“I’m sure you will.“ The Doctor winked at the Master who rolled his eyes and held his hands up appeasingly. He seemed to have no intention of making life hard for them.

“Fam, I think you’ve found a new home here.“ The Doctor turned to Ryan and Graham who had walked over to join the Torchwood and UNIT agents.

“Well, someone needs to look after Earth while you go on paternity leave,“ Graham joked and the Doctor chuckled and nodded. She was glad to see them doing so well, it was an incredible joy to see them all working together. “What about you, Yaz, are you staying with them or…“ She wasn’t sure how to approach the third member of her fam. Yaz had wanted to keep travelling with her but this would be a bit different going forward, at least for a time.

“You know what, Doctor… I think I’d like to go with Vastra, Jenny and Strax… if they’ll have me of course…“ Yaz looked to the Paternoster Gang with a sheepish smile. It had been quite the adventure they had been on together and she had given the matter a lot of thought. She wasn’t quite ready to give up on the life of adventure yet but the Doctor would need to spend time with her family now. After their epic adventure through space, solid ground would make a nice change. Fighting crime in Victorian England sounded like just the adventure she needed next.

“You are welcome to stay for as long as you like,“ Vastra smiled.

“How come?“ The Doctor asked, genuinely surprised and curious in equal measures. She would have expected her to want to stay with Torchwood but she had clearly underestimated the journey she had been on with the Paternoster Gang.

“I’ve had enough of space and age-old feuds for a while… I think I’d like to discover more of Earth and focus on more human monsters for a while. What can I say, I’m a trainee police officer… who better to learn the trade from than a real life Sherlock Holmes,“ Yaz grinned, delighted at the idea. She knew that she could always call upon her and hatch a lift back to her time when she was good and ready.

“Well in that case, next stop Victorian London!“ The Doctor grinned and bid farewell to the protectors of 21st Century Earth.

——

“Professor, I just want to say… I’m sorry we weren’t better guardians to your son.“ Vastra felt the need to apologise one more time as they found themselves outside the front door of Paternoster Row.

“You are the bravest, most loyal group of friends anyone could wish for. You have crossed all of time and space to bring us back together, you saved me from Demon’s Run, you have done more than I could ever ask of you.“ River took Vastra’s hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She understood the Silurian was a creature with an honour-based belief system, but surely she had to see that any debt she thought she owed her had been repaid tenfold.

“We’re just glad everything turned out alright,“ Jenny smiled, looping her arm around her wife’s.

“Everything turned out just fine,“ the Doctor assured them.

“Ma’am, will we be having visitors, shall I prepare tea?“ Strax asked and Vastra looked to the Doctor and River.

“Would you care to come in? I’m afraid the kitchen is still a bit of a mess but I’m sure Strax can manage,“ the lady of the house asked.

“We will get out of your hair for now,“ the Doctor chuckled. “But we will be dropping by, don’t worry.“ The Doctor gave Yaz a kind smile, hoping she would enjoy the change of scenery and the young woman mirrored the gesture.

“Look after yourself and your family,“ Yaz smiled and the Doctor nodded, sharing a glance with River, intent on doing just that.

“Let’s go home.“ The Doctor reached for her wife’s hand and pressed a kiss to her son’s head before they headed back to the TARDIS.

END.

-------------------

Author notes: Okay, so first of all, thank you very much for reading!!! I appreciate each and every one of you and your lovely comments, ideas and opinions, they honestly make my day and bring me so much joy, it keeps me writing and knowing you enjoy my sometimes confusing and ridiculously complicated stories, that's just the best!!!

I really hope you found the ending satisfying and that I wrapped up all plot points properly. I'll leave you to imagine what adventures the Master gets up to with UNIT/Torchwood and whether he can stay on the straight and narrow, how Yaz gets on in Victorian London with the Paternoster Gang and of course how the Doctor, her wife and their son navigate family life together! I don't now if I will ever revisit this universe, probably not for a while, but I left my options open (hence them not watching the Thirteen die and the Doctor leaving the sample behind, who knows maybe they find a way of dragging themselves over there, making the serum and getting more regenerations before everything blows up, Time Lords take forever to die :P).

I had several different endings planned for this along the way (The Master was going to be evil and behind it all when I first set out. At one point I had planned for River to go back in time and abduct the baby from Paternoster Row and replacing it with a flesh avatar - that's why I gave her the Clocksmith's TARDIS in the first place :D - and she was going to drop him off with the Eighth Doctor at Bakerstreet...) but in the end, this felt like the one that fit best. I really wanted to have the Master working with UNIT and mirror the Third Doctor's time in exile that way. So yes, all in all, I really hope this worked for you!!

Last but not least, I'd be delighted if any of you chose to check out the big project I'm going to be focusing on now: A Numbers Game (I'll probably be posting the next chapter tomorrow!). I realise it's a bit of a departure from my normal stuff but I'm very excited about it and the storyline will be as timey-whimy and confusing as this one lol. Also, you've now spent plenty of time with one of the Eighth Doctor's best villains, why not spent some time with Eight and his companions and read about them fighting Daleks with Thirteen, River and co? Plus, there will be more of UNIT, Torchwood and the Fam teaming up! :D

Anyway, enough self-promotion :D Again, thank you very much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

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ijustkindalikebooks · 2 years

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Easter is approaching, Spring is sprung and we have sunlight. Oh, how I have missed the sun. I don't think it's been grey this long, ever, literally grey. But here are some books that I just absolutely think will make your spring break/easter holidays/time for yourself be all that more interesting.

The Tea Dragon Society series by Kay O'Neill - these graphic novels are the epitome of spring, with wonderful characters, beautiful scenes filled with dreamy landscapes and cosy homes, this series is just such a treat and easy to read over a weekend. The story of a group of villagers who take care of tiny dragons that grow plants from themselves, these are all so adorable and well worth reading, it is the epitome of charming.

Dumb Witness by Agatha Christie - I think this is by far one of the most interesting plots, because revolves around a dog. An elderly woman has been poisoned in her country home, everyone blames the poor dog's ball on the stairs but Poirot thinks there's more to the story and a mystery awakens. A really great story from Christie who is the queen of the genre, this is definitely one of the ones I'd recommend (not to mention, quite short!).

Dream Work by Mary Oliver - many of Mary Oliver's collections surround her connection to the nature that surrounded her, and in Spring what more could you want than a trip to the countryside in the palm of your hands. A winner of the Pullitzer, this collection highlights her incredible talent at bringing the world she sees to you and it makes for incredible reading.

A Psalm For The Wild Built by Becky Chambers - I listened to this book over the weekend, and honestly, I wondered why I had put off reading this for so long, as it is just a beautiful read. The story of a robot and a man who come together to figure out what the world wants and how complicated answering that question is, it's a short but sweet story that Chambers writes to perfection. I can't wait for more of this series.

House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland - About a trio of sisters who go missing when they were young and return changed, then when they become adults one of the sisters goes missing and they go in search to find her, finding out exactly how unusual they are. It's a little horror, nature horror in my opinion and makes for a compelling and intriguing read, that keeps you hooked to the end.

Natsume's Book Of Friends by Yuki Midorikawa - A beautifully illustrated Manga that tells the story of Natsume who has inherited a book of his grandmother's 'friends' who are magical creatures she trapped in a book and how he goes about releasing them with his mentor, a cat yoakai beast called Nyanko-Sensei who wants this book for himself. I just think this is the perfect Manga for Spring - charming, funny but also an adventure, I highly recommend it.

what are you reading over your long weekend? I'd love to know!

Vee xo.

#books #booklr #bookblr #book recs #reading #book recommendations #book recommendation #fiction #book #poetry

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johnnyutah · 3 years

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i haven’t been posting my stuff on here enough so here’s the start of my latest geralt/jaskier fic! (Also on AO3)

E, 5.4K words, no warnings, Geralt has a kink for poetry (specifically Jaskier’s)

Never before has a crowd been so steadfast in their misery. By rights, their spirits should be buoyed. The witcher came to their backwater town and slayed the monster, saving the day. But the townspeople still mourn for their lost families and friends, slumped over their mugs of bad ale and bland food. Their pain cannot be undone even by this tremendous— and unexpected— victory.

Jaskier tries his hardest to raise their spirits but all his typical tavern songs are poorly received. Strangely, the ballads resonate with the audience more than ever. So he leans into it, playing everything from ancient elven songs of tragedy to his own darker compositions. Somehow it helps. When he sings “So arise and face me, I am poisoned with the rage of song,” one young woman almost smiles. Not out of mirth or joy, but rue, and perhaps the sad beginnings of acceptance.

That’s alright, then. He can get a little angsty. He strums a few basic chords and launches into a very old sonnet that had come to him on a particularly lonely autumn night at Oxenfurt. It isn’t the kind of thing he’d perform for most crowds, but in this room of grief, his listeners actually applaud at the end of the recital. How bizarre.

Jaskier tips his chin to the mourners. At the back of the room, Geralt climbs to his feet and abandons the rest of his dinner.

Well, that’s alright. The witcher doesn’t usually stick around for his performances anyway, and Jaskier couldn’t blame him for missing this despondent concert. He watches Geralt mutter silently to himself as he makes his way out of the tavern, no doubt heading for the inn. Roach has been installed in her stable for hours already; it’s high time her owner gets some rest too.

After playing one last ballad and bidding farewell to this somber crowd, Jaskier takes his minimal earnings and follows Geralt’s path out of the bar. The light rainfall from earlier has grown into a heavy storm, turning the shoddy dirt lanes of the town into slippery mud traps. Jaskier grimaces, out of habit, but after so long travelling as Geralt’s barker, he’s well accustomed to wading through mud. Shit, he’s waded through far worse.

He hurries to the inn where their belongings and clean beds await. In most settlements, inns play double duty as either taverns or brothels. This one is a hospice, so although the pious innkeeper is unlikely to bring them ale with their morning breakfast, things should be quiet. Jaskier, nearly drenched just from the quick run over, heads right to the room. No point making peace with any reverent types— his hedonistic interests ensure that he rarely receives invitations to temples or anything like that.

Despite the ominously dark storm clouds, it’s still early. His audience’s melancholy must have been contagious, as Jaskier now realizes he didn’t stay for a single drink. He hadn’t even considered it. Or perhaps he just had no desire to stay there without Geralt. Still dripping from the deluge outside, he opens the door quietly.

For once, he’s caught a witcher off their guard. Few men can truly claim to have accomplished that, but it seems the case. Geralt is sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over a small book and scrawling into it feverishly. He takes his time choosing every word but seems desperate to record the thought, toes curling. He’s discarded his trousers and socks somewhere, leaving him in just his underclothes and a loose shirt. His eyebrows are drawn close together with intense focus as he tugs, distracted, at his bottom lip. He’s gorgeous, and oblivious, and he’s making Jaskier feel like an intruder in his own room.

Jaskier’s scent must change, or perhaps Geralt’s reactions are just delayed. After all, he had definitely been drinking tonight. Whatever the case he suddenly raises his head, noticing his companion, and with a fierce immediacy he chucks the book into one of his open bags beside the bed.

Unfortunately for him, this only serves to pique Jaskier’s interest. “You didn’t miss much with that last song,” he mumbles, breaking eye contact. He shrugs off his damp outerwear, hanging his doublet on a hook by the door and taking off his muddy shoes. Geralt keeps watching him, so finally Jaskier glances back at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Geralt huffs. Even after however many years they’ve spent together now, the low rumble of his voice still astonishes Jaskier sometimes. “Thought you’d stay longer.”

He squints at the colour sitting high on Geralt’s cheeks. Is he… irritated? Flustered? Jaskier stares at the witcher, trying to decipher exactly why he might want Jaskier to stay at the tavern longer. He settles on the most ridiculous answer possible. “Are you writing a novel?”

The witcher blinks, slowly, golden eyes narrowing. “Jaskier,” he finally deadpans. “Look at me. Do you really think I’m writing a novel?”

“Why not!” Well, his utilitarian approach to the Common language, for one thing. But lots of people like stories that don’t use particularly intimidating words, and Geralt is funny. It’s just impossible to tell thanks to that gravelly rasp he’s got going on. But he doesn’t want to insult the man, so Jaskier encourages him with, “You’ve got a first hand experience of all these incredible stories. I mean, I do my best with the scraps you give me, but I can only recount what I can imagine. And you’ve got all those enhanced senses, I mean— I bet you could give a really perfect description of a monster, really make your reader feel all enveloped in the action—”

“I’m going to bed,” Geralt interrupts roughly. He’s full on flushed now, and avoiding Jaskier’s eyes. Gods, is he embarrassed?

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Jaskier tries, but his companion has already abandoned the conversation, crawling up the bed to hide under the covers. Like a turtle retreating into its shell. “I mean it, Geralt, I think your writing would be lovely!”

“Good night, bard,” growls the embarrassed turtle, muffled by the pillows he’s shoved his face into.

Sighing, Jaskier collapses onto his own bed. He almost wishes that they hadn’t sprung for a room with two beds, although he doesn’t think the saintly old innkeeper would have liked that request. It would be easier to try and read Geralt’s emotions if they were sharing a bed, but now, his companion feels distant.

The thing is… Jaskier had been telling the truth. The songs that he has composed since joining the witcher on his Path are epics, ones that will outlive both of them. His thoughts unravel into memories of their unbelievable and wild adventures together, of parties in Gulet and devils in Posada. He thinks he would like to read something written by Geralt, even a small story.

He contemplates getting up to sneak into Geralt’s bag and steal a look at the fledgling novel, but he wouldn’t betray his friend’s trust like that. Besides, it’s hard to tell if Geralt has actually fallen asleep or if he’s simply hiding, waiting for Jaskier to pass out so that he can resume his writing.

By the time he finally gives in to his exhaustion, Geralt’s breathing still hasn’t evened out.

(keep reading the rest on AO3!)

#geraskier #the witcher #gerlion #fic blogging #my writing #is this just an excuse for me to use edna st vincent millay sonnets in the middle of smut? Hey maybe

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artyrogue · 3 years

Text

Blind Date Gaming: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon R

Well today's date was a blast from my past. Remember way back when in yesteryear, before the advent of anime in the west? Probably not? Well hey, let's go back in time to when Sailor Moon was like the only anime being shown on TV. Okay, so yeah, it's really not super-great and all (at least the dub wasn't...), but whatever, it was my jam as a young impressionable lad of...what was I, like 10 or something? I can't remember, but since my old grey brick Game Boy was the cornerstone of my youth, I am a little excited to revisit a merging of two old passions. That's right! We're gonna play some Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon R!

It starts with a cutscene, of course. This IS based off an anime, so we gotta get a fill of some anime girls with their obligatory high school problems! Sadly for me, it's all in Japanese, but I can provide some crappy machine translations to no doubt elucidate the action-packed dialogue!

"Today, every one of them..."

Oh. Guess I shouldn't have just kind of took a random screenshot in the middle of nowhere. Well, uhh...I'll ad-lib. Today, everyone is apparently milling about whatever Sailor Moon's hometown was. Serena was being a git and verbally harassing everyone she found on the street. That kind of accurately described the first phase of gameplay in this game: an 'adventure' where you have to talk to the right person, then talk to someone else, etc. until the game decides that surprise! You found the area's boss! (My apologies to the script writers here for my clear bypassing of their hard work.)

why hello there fellow school girl, let us talk about boys and how hard maths are

I get some bad vibes of two sorts: One, adventure games where you just try things randomly until you click the right thing and the game decides to let you progress; and Two, Mario is Missing. An odd marriage, especially considering the random boring mini-games they sprinkle in here and there, like matching cards, guessing if the next card will be higher or lower than the current card, and of course the staple of youth fun, sliding puzzles.

At least Final Fantasy gave you money for completing these dumb things....

Well, luckily the game isn't just mingling. There's a platforming phase where you use magical powers to jump, shoot foes, and do battle with evildoers from the Sailor Moon universe! Though I really don't recall any of these enemies since I never watched this season of the show, so I can't speak to their accuracy to the source material. The platforming is accurate for girls wearing high heels, though. These jumps're so stiff, you can mount 'em on a ladder and do high dives offa them.

I can only assume these are the Japanese temple versions of Jehovah's witnesses

The bosses are unsurprisingly dull! Pretty much the only cool thing about them is their animations, which are alright and fairly fluid. Combat is summed up as ‘spam the attack button and don't even try to dodge, because who cares?’ You have more health than every boss in the game. Which is a good thing, ‘cos it's not like you can actually move around and dodge anything anyway.

Ahh yes, the handstand of dominance. A most impressive display for an inter-dimensional being bent on destruction!

So after thumb-wrestling a boss, you get kicked back into story mode. It shifts the scout you play as, but who cares, they all blabber to randos on the street. Come on, just let me fight things! This sucks! While the best aspect of the street-roaming phase that gets changed up is the road layout, later platforming levels get a little cute with their traps and enemies. Still, though, it's all stupidly easy and kinda boring. Except that one time Sailor Mercury was dodging spike mace balls in a sea of scaffolding. Dang, I liked that episode of the show!

Why can't they ever have spiky cubes? Why always balls? C'mon devs, get creative!

Also, I feel the need to point out that the background artists definitely got paid more than the foreground artists. There is so little effort put into the foreground, you may as well be playing an old Game Boy g...oh. Right.

Mmyep, this sure looks like release material and not placeholders during development.

The story starts getting kooky near the end, at least from what my illiterate self can tell. Your first foes are some David Bowie wannabes. Next, a cloaked fortune teller pops in to ruin your self esteem and flash their $40 glass orb (as they do). Eventually, you meet the REAL enemy pulling the strings. It's...a planet? I think? A planet with a dirt lip and a mohawk. Sure. That's fine, I don't see anything that could go wrong with that.

"...my life is Wiseman. This is my heart." Yeah no, I don't think you should have put 'Organ Donor' on your driver's license then, buddy

"Moon Crystal Power!" The faces are definitely part of the power summoning rite. I get a similar look from my wife when I take the last ice cream bar from the freezer

The ending was lackluster, really. I mean, don't get me wrong, the character portraits were pretty good, but you don't get many more unique ones in the final cutscene. But hey, at least you can use the existing ones to redo some popular internet memes.

Overall, not really that great. It was pretty disappointing, but I mean, that's kind of spot-on for all of my revisits to fond childhood memories. So what I've learned from this date is that holy moly did I have terrible taste as a kid! While my younger self might have sprung for it, I ain't going on a date with this one again. Nopes all around! But at least I found a baller Sprite of Passage from one of the lame mini games! Have it as a reminder to never revisit your childhood. Keep that past rosy!

do you have burials at sea for sailor scouts?

#blinddategaming #gameboy #sailor moon

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casper-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

I Think I’m In Love

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921265

Summary: Virgil falls for Roman, and the realization hits him pretty hard. But... It's not a scary realization, like he thought it would be.

In which I'm five days late for Virgil's birthday, but here's his birthday fic that got way out of hand. I went into this expecting like no plot and Virgil simply thinking about how gay he is for Roman and then Roman refused to be ignored and it just kind of went from there. I've dedicated this to Max ( @max-is-tired) cause honestly? They've helped me get out of my writing funk lately and also they've been super excited for me to finish it since I sprung the idea for the fic on them in the first place lmao.

It wasn’t exactly a soft realization, when Virgil had it. It wasn’t like Patton telling him he loved him so much, and that he wouldn’t know what to do without his friendship. It wasn’t like Logan handing him a book on something Virgil was really interested in, wanting to discuss it with him and Virgil figuring out that was Logan telling him that he loved him like a brother. Nothing with Remus was soft, but realizing Virgil cared about him, too, wasn’t nearly as jarring as this.

Honestly, realizing how much he loved each of his friends never hit Virgil quite as hard as it did when he realized he was in love with one Roman Grimm. It was like a bag of bricks dropped from a few feet straight onto his chest.

Virgil had come up with a particularly creative insult and it had left Roman keeled over, wheezing so hard all that was escaping his mouth was high pitched noises, not a breath of air between them. He’d crossed his arms in triumph, feeling like he’d won that days bickering.

It took him all of ten seconds before he realized his expression wasn’t the smirk he’d been going for, but an overly sappy, love-filled smile at Roman’s laughter. And that’s when the bricks dropped and all air rushed out of his lungs, his eyes widening as he watched Roman gather himself.

He… didn’t run. Didn’t even consider it before Roman had recovered, made a comment that prompted Virgil into a response that sent him cackling again. While the conversation continues, Virgil thinks.

He thinks about his last venture into the dating world, and how it ended in such a massive disaster that he did his best to jade himself to feeling like that again, because what’s the point of butterflies when they’re only going to rip through your heart on their way out?

But… being around Roman doesn’t give him butterflies. Strangely enough, Virgil feels like he’s the one with wings, when he’s with the flamboyant actor. Being with Roman makes Virgil feel like he could do anything he wanted to, so long as he had him by his side. Doesn’t matter that they’d be bickering and insulting each other the entire journey. If anything, that’d make Virgil feel more confident that he can actually pull it off, whatever it was he decided to do that day.

And honestly, now that he’s thinking about it, Virgil gets kind of reckless when he and Roman are in the same vicinity. Dee has even pointed out to him before a venture into an abandoned amusement park to go ghost hunting that Roman had an easier time convincing Virgil to do something stupid and kind of dangerous than Patton did trying to get him to sleep.

Virgil had, naturally, told him to shove that stick in his ass down his own throat. He may be spending a little too much time with Roman’s brother, if he was being honest with himself. Dee had only scoffed, rolling his eyes before letting Virgil leave the house to meet up with an eccentric blond.

That venture into the old, rusty amusement park was one of the best nights of Virgil’s life, if he didn’t count being almost crushed to death under an unsteady beam in one of the haunted houses. He and Roman had so much fun getting scared shitless by every creak and groan of the old rides. The funhouse mirrors had sent Virgil into laughing fits when every single one somehow only showed Roman as his normal self while he himself got the different appearances.

Thinking back on it, there was definitely a ghost fucking with them that entire adventure, but Virgil was having too much fun exchanging witty insults with Roman to really care. He’d had fun, and really wasn’t that something? Cause Virgil… Virgil didn’t have fun. He mildly enjoyed things while anxiety tickled the back of his mind, making him overthink every single action that was a result of him not thinking enough. The anxiety faded, the longer he knew the people he hung out with regularly, but it never really went away long enough for him to forget it was there until something that needed it happened.

Virgil was about to start thinking about how Roman managed to get him out from under the old rotting wood of a support beam before the haunted house got worse when Roman himself interrupted his thinking.

“Virgil. Vee. V-Man. Very Unimportant. Walking Existential Crisis. Vladimir--”

“Roman if you finish equating to me to the president of Russia, your face will no longer be as pretty as you think it is,” Virgil interrupted, his eyes finally focusing back on Roman’s expression. Which was filled with a confused concern.

Oh shit, did he space out?

“Well sorry, you stopped responding to me for a minute there, and your face went from all “Roman is a dumbass” smirk to some kind of mushy, gooey grin.”

Virgil scrunched up his nose in disgust at the comparison.

“Ew. Don’t ever call me mushy or gooey again, and I’ll let you live.”

Roman snorted, rolling his eyes at Virgil’s false disgust of all things soft.

Which, rude. Virgil had a reputation, he couldn’t just let himself be called mushy. What would his pretend fans think!

“I’d like to see you try and kill me, Very Short. You can’t even reach my shoulders without my assistance, you think you can aim for my heart from all the way down there?”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed while Roman’s grin widened, turning into a challenge.

There was exactly two beats of silence before Roman bolted for the door, Virgil chasing after him.

Virgil stops thinking about his feelings after that, stops thinking beyond strategy to capture Roman and somehow give him the biggest noogie of his life for daring to bring up Virgil’s height.

And it just kind of… continues. Virgil feels comfortable around Roman in a way he hadn’t before, despite Virgil never thinking he was ever uncomfortable around him prior to his revelation. Maybe it’s because he’s aware of the feelings now, and he recognizes his actions for what they are; pure, genuine affection and romantic attraction.

Over the next few weeks, Virgil can’t help but test the waters a little bit. He starts flirting back when Roman sends him some stupid pick up line he thinks is funny. Several times they’ve gone for hours, trying out-flirt each other and many times Virgil has won because Roman can’t let go of the overly ridiculous lines that focus on sex and Virgil is actually flirting so Roman eventually gets too flustered to continue.

Along with the flirting he gets… a lot more touchy. It’s not exactly subtle, nor is it obvious the touching is another result of his discovery, considering it’s really just Virgil letting himself rise to a lot of the bait Roman lays out for a playful fight. Patton definitely notices though, and the conversation that leads to is awkward at best, mortifying at worse.

And no, he doesn’t really feel like recounting that event in his memories.

It’s two days before his birthday when his brother and Roman’s brother trap him in Dee’s room with them to confront him.

“You know, you could’ve just asked to talk to me in private instead of hooking your arms around mine to drag me in here,” Virgil comments after flopping on his back on the carpeted floor beneath him. Dee and Remus had both taken advantage of their heights, and Virgil hadn’t really been able to keep his feet under him so when they let him go he’d fallen on his ass and who was he to pass up the opportunity to lay down?

“Yes, but that wasn’t nearly as much fun as dragging you in here like we were going to torture you for information!”

Virgil huffs a breath of air, trying to get his bangs out of his eyes enough so he could give Remus a curious look.

“Okay, and why are you torturing me for information?”

Dee cuts in, then. “Because you’re so open with us, Virgil.”

Virgil narrows his eyes in a glare at his older brother.

“You’re point, Monty the Python?”

Dee rolls his eyes at the nickname, crossing his arms.

“Our point, V-Section, is that you’re acting weird around my brother and he may not have noticed but we have,” Remus butts in with an irritated huff.

Virgil blinks, staring at his brother’s best friend for a solid thirty seconds before he speaks up.

“Was that… Did you just call me a C-Section but with the first letter of my name?” he asks, utterly bewildered. Usually Remus was a lot gorier or NSFW with his nicknames for others, and he didn’t usually relate their name back to it like Roman did.

“Did you really just totally ignore everything Remus said after that?” Dee asked, exasperated with the thing Virgil chose to focus on rather than the important part.

Virgil shrugged, shifting his feet so his knees were in the air and bringing his hands to rest on his stomach.

“I mean, yeah? It’s not like I’m really trying to keep my actions a secret, guys. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t say anything sooner? It’s been, what, two months since I actually started flirting with him?”

Dee blinks in surprise at Virgil’s admission.

“...That’s it? You’re not going to fight us on this?” he asks, skeptical of how easy Virgil was taking this. He was quite literally taking it lying down.

“Yeah? Why would I fight you on this?” Virgil asked, raising his torso up on his elbows to better stare at them in confusion.

Genuine confusion.

Jesus Christ.

“Probably because when you dated Chris and he criticized literally everything you did and liked you broke down after he dumped you and told everyone you wouldn’t let yourself interact with romance again?” Remus said, confused by Virgil’s confusion.

“Ah. That. Well, it’s whatever. In the past, literally years ago at this point. Why should I let it bother me now?”

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Was Dee’s immediate response, panic that was almost genuine ringing clear through his words.

Sighing, Virgil flopped back onto the ground, ignoring the slight burning on his elbows from sliding them against the carpet. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, arms spread wide and knees knocking together as he thought (he’d been doing so much thinking lately).

“I know, not exactly something you’d expect me to say, as someone with generalized and social anxiety disorders. But… I don’t like Roman, the way I liked Chris. With Chris, things were fast but they felt kind of forced after a while. I mean yeah, it was fun making fun of people with him, but he didn’t exactly stop at other people, or even me. He criticized himself, and I felt a kinship in that, I guess. I felt like he’d relate to me on my worse nights. I dated him more because I thought he’d understand the feelings because he went through them too.”

Remus and Dee looked at each other as Virgil trailed off, obviously lost in thought. They let the silence go for a minute before Remus got impatient.

“Okay, then how is my brother different than Crucifixion?” he asked, impulsively grabbing one of Dee’s hands to play with his fingers see how long he could squeeze them together before he pulled his hand away.

Virgil still didn’t look at them, instead choosing to smile softly at the ceiling and wow, if that wasn’t a strange look to see on his brother.

“With Roman it’s like… it’s like coming home after a long day of bullshit. It’s a huge relief, I get to unwind from my stress by focusing on something else that I enjoy exponentially more than talking to other people. Instead of overly stressing about how someone reacted to this action, or what to say next to avoid pissing people off, I get to focus on just being in the moment and enjoying myself. It just… feels like home, loving him.”

“Well, slap my ass and call my Lucifer, cause hell must have just frozen over,” Remus says, making Virgil freeze as what he just said sinks in.

“Well. Guess that answers that question, then,” Dee comments, finally pulling his hand away when Remus scrunches his hand in a way that shoots pain through the back of it, making Remus grin at him.

Virgil makes a noise, but Dee can’t really identify what it is, now that Virgil has covered his face with his hands. Granted, that really does nothing to obscure the way his neck and ears have turned red, and if Dee guessed, his face was probably just as bad.

“Remus, I think we should let Virgil stew in his words by himself now.”

Remus perks at that. “Oh! Can we go to the creek? I think I saw a dead squirrel there yesterday and I wanna see how much it’s decomposed.”

Dee sighed, but nodded, turning away from his brother as his best friend bounded out of the room in excitement.

Virgil let out a groan as he listened to Dee and Remus leave, noting the lack of the door clicking shut. Guess it was left open then, probably to urge Virgil out of Dee’s room faster.

Well… he may as well accept that he just admitted Out Loud to his brother and friend that he was in love with Roman. Not like it was information he didn’t already know, he just… hadn’t really anticipated telling them it was something beyond a stupid crush.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil uncovered his face and made quick work of getting himself off the floor so he could actually go chill out in his room like he’d been planning to do before he was ambushed outside of the bathroom.

Honestly, Virgil really shouldn’t have expected Dee and Remus leaving him alone after his admission would mean they would just leave him alone about the topic altogether. Especially now that it was his birthday, and Roman was coming over in five minutes and Remus was giving him a wide unsettling grin.

Usually, that wouldn’t mean anything. Except it was paired with Dee’s self-satisfied smirk as he swung his keys around his finger to entertain himself while he waited.

Virgil glared at the two of them from his spot on the kitchen counter (he’s gay and has anxiety, you couldn’t pay him to sit properly on a chair. Or in a chair regardless).

“What are you two up to? I swear to God, if it’s a surprise party, I will skin you both,” Virgil hisses.

Remus goes to respond, fully prepared to get into a competition with Virgil on who can come up with more creative threats, but Roman bursts in at that exact second, and Virgil slinks off the counter to go meet him at the door, shooting Dee another harsh glare over his shoulder.

“I’m here, Charlotte’s Web!”

Virgil couldn’t help the small smile that formed at the classic nickname, shaking his head as he stopped in the doorway leading in and out of the kitchen.

“Hey, Caesar Salad,” Virgil greeted, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket and forcing his smile into a more lopsided smirk as Roman looked up at him.

Roman paused for a second, staring at Virgil like he’d just seen something he hadn’t before, making Virgil quirk a brow in question. Instead of an explanation, Roman just cleared his throat and finished maneuvering a large brown paper bag through the gap between his leg and the doorframe.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked, stepping forward to help Roman out by grabbing the thing he wasn’t struggling with--his jacket.

Roman glared at Virgil, who only smirked in response before huffing as he managed to get the bag through without ripping it.

“You’re birthday present if you must know, Gerard Gay.”

Roman was rewarded with a snort as Virgil turned back into the kitchen, gesturing for Roman to follow with a wave of his hand.

Entering the kitchen, Roman let out a long groan.

“Remus, what are you and Rumplesnakeskin doing here?”

“I live here, Roman,” Dee responded before Remus could, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but you’re never here when I’m here, and if you are, you always make a quick getaway. You’re up to something, Jafaar, and I don’t like it.”

Virgil couldn’t help but agree with Roman, going back to glaring at the two as he hopped back up on the counter to get comfortable.

“Plus, you both have been giving me your evil plotting smiles all morning.”

Roman shuttered. “Oh yeah, something’s definitely up. Spit it out Dr. Gloom and William Snakespere. What foul deeds are you planning today?”

Remus snorts at that, pulling a recorder out of his pocket. One of those old handheld ones you see in movies when the main character needs proof of something that was said. Something he must have gotten from Logan.

Something he probably had two days ago.

Virgil froze, eyes zeroing in on the recorder. The next thing he knew, he was launching himself off the counter in Remus’ direction, reaching for the device in hopes of either grabbing it or making Remus drop it so it’d break on the ground.

Neither of those things happened, considering Remus seemed to anticipate Virgil’s reaction as he gave a gleeful squeal, leaping onto the table and holding the recorder high above his head, out of Virgil’s reach.

Virgil had no qualms getting on the table, but before he could, Dee stopped him.

“Virgil, that table can only handle so much weight, do you really want to incur both of our moms’ wrath by breaking the table when we’re only visiting?”

Roman watched as Virgil was clearly panicking at the fact that Remus had a recorder in his hand, gaze switching between Remus and Dee and Virgil as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, other than the fact you guys have recorded something Virgil clearly doesn’t want me to hear, but I’d honestly really rather you didn’t force him into sharing something he’s not ready to share yet,” Roman said, crossing his arms after dropping the bag on the floor.

Remus let out a loud whine at that. “C’mon, Roman! I thought you’d be curious to know what we’ve found out.”

Roman shrugged at that, looking to Virgil, who was currently staring at him with wide eyes. He met the look with a small smile.

“Yeah, of course I’m curious. You guys know I hate being left out of the loop, but Virgil doesn’t want me to know right now. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll never want me to know. And even if it does, I’ll respect that. My curiosity is not an excuse to betray his trust like that.”

“I love you.”

Roman blinked in shock at the words that suddenly left Virgil’s mouth, and if the surprise on Virgil’s face was anything to go by, Virgil hadn’t expected to say them either.

Silence filled the kitchen for a few minutes before Remus let out a resigned sigh.

“Well that just took all the fun out of this. Dee let’s go to the park so I can scare some kids.”

Dee shook his head at his best friend as he hopped off the table.

“We’re not scaring children again, Rem. The last time we nearly got kicked out of the park for good, and I know that one is your favorite for corpse hunting.”

Dee’s words trailed off until the door closed behind the two friends as Roman and Virgil continued to stare at each other.

“...I love you too.”

Virgil’s face immediately lit on fire, and he let out an embarrassed sound, but didn’t move from his spot leaning against the table, knee halfway on top of it from when Dee had stopped him.

Roman couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

“Was that what Remus wanted me to hear?” he asked, shifting to sit on a counter (a habit he gained from Virgil, though he was more prone to sitting in actual chairs, he sat on whatever surface was closest to him).

Virgil finally shifted his leg off the table, clearing his throat as he collapsed onto the floor, legs spread out before him while he leaned back on his hands.

“...Yeah. Yeah it was. Though the recording probably had a lot more embarrassing stuff on it, I doubt they only recorded the last bit of that conversation.”

Roman nodded, tapping his fingers against the hard surface of the counter.

“To be completely honest, I had my suspicions when you started flirting back? But I didn’t really want to say anything in case you stopped, or I was wrong.”

Virgil groaned, letting his head fall back so he could stare at the ceiling.

“Yeah, that started like a week after I figured it out. Remember when you called me mushy and gooey and I threatened your weak life form?”

Roman snorted. “Yeah, I remember. And excuse you, you’re the one with a weak life form Virgil.”

Virgil squinted at Roman then. “Roman. You’re allergic to cats. And chili peppers.”

“You’re lactose intolerant!” Roman protested, earning a smirk.

“Yeah? Do you see me avoiding dairy, Roman? I have chugged an entire gallon of milk, Princey. You really think something as stupid as milk inolerance is going to stop me?”

The bickering continued, them not really acknowledging their feelings beyond the initial declarations of love.

Which was fine with Virgil. They didn’t need to label anything just yet, and it’s not like Virgil was really into physical affection beyond cuddling anyway, so nothing really would change between them, label or not.

And if they held hands more often, or teased each other with pet names they didn’t dare do before, then that was really nobody’s business, was it?

#jo writes #sanders sides #ts virgil #ts roman #ts deceit #ts remus #prinxiety #remus typical creativity #friendly bullying #and by that i mean virgil and roman make fun of each other a whole lot #empty death threats #short jokes #there's definitely a ghost in this #and the ghost is definitely joan #but like it's so brief

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zutaraangtastic · 4 years

Note

how about a absolute classic of prompts: accidently married in a local ritual.

hope this floats your boat! - mod K 🌸

“The plum blossom symbolises hope and perseverance,” the Priestess explained, her wrinkled arms putting the garland around Zuko's neck. Zuko tried not to look quite so alarmed. “A harbinger for spring. Perfect for a graceful, strong leader such as yourself.” Now he ventured a small and familiar smile, affected and even embarrassed.

Katara giggled, touching the garland resting on her own chest - she had picked out her own night jasmines, though for reasons she kept to herself. The locals had a different name for it when she asked, coral jasmines. That made sense, considering the abundance of shore reefs that encircled this tiny island off the eastern Earth Kingdom coastline. Since her very first meeting with swampbenders during the war, Katara was always curious to find more plantbenders. Rather unlike the Foggy Swamp tribe, this particular tribe seemed to have a culture that revelled in the beauty of plant life – enough to keep a vibrant ecosystem of flora alive, far beyond what the season, soil and saline air should have allowed. Katara suspected there was some exceptional mix of healing and plant bending going on; she’d have to ask around more.

Though their tribal lifestyles were reliant on the marine environment just as her own tribe was on the polar ice, every aspect of their culture was new and exciting – including their elaborate welcoming rituals. She was so glad Aang had pestered them to stop by here.

Aang sidled up to sit next to her in the sand, looking with unbridled affection toward Zuko and then catching her eye with a smirk. “They suit you!” she called, earning a glare from Zuko and a chorus of laughter from the few children skittering around the sand. Katara’s eyes were drawn to Aang’s wreath – round, fatty yellow petals diffusing to white as they spread outwards. “Champa,” he said, eyes twinkling. “These used to grow on the Southern Air Temple, too. We used them for funerals, so I wasn't sure if it would be offensive, but Hana over there told me that here, they symbolise marriage.” He cocked his head. “That's definitely nicer, though I guess I don’t really know why it’s relevant.”

Soon, they were drawn together by the Priestess and her attendants, who pushed the three of them to sit in a loose circle. Katara looked between Zuko and Aang with amusement, and then a dawning puzzlement as the Priestess instructed them to take off the wreaths they had just put on and stack their hands.

She took a long breath of salty air. Then, gathering each garland on her arm, she deftly swiped every flower clean off their stems. One attendant held them suspended in the air with waterbending while another presented a sinewy vine to the Priestess. With stunning precision, the Priestess wound the flowers around the vine, her fingers moving fast to alternate between each. She had created, Katara realised belatedly, a gorgeous garland of three flowers. Creamy white petals of different shapes and sizes danced between each other, each dashed with a pleasing hint of colour: the blush of Zuko’s plum blossom – a lot like the blush on his face right now – the sunshine yellow of Aang’s champa, and the droopy jasmines with their central dot of the ripest orange.

“Now,” began the Priestess. “Nothing makes the flowers bloom like a healthy union. When Avatar Aang and his cherished friends came to our little island this morning, I was delighted to welcome them. When our fellow water-daughter, Katara, spoke to me of their adventures and their unions, I was amazed. And when the Fire Lord Zuko bowed his greeting to me, presenting the seeds of his native fire lilies, I was touched.”

Katara beamed. It was nice when they all travelled together. This wasn’t the first time a local had brought it up. Something about seeing people so obviously of three different nations travelling together so casually seemed to strike the hearts of people in the remotest places they visited. It was easy for her to forget, given how entwined her own heart was with the wider world – between her homeland, the United Republic, and Zuko’s palace. Watching her shining eyes, Katara wondered what the world had been like when the Priestess last ventured out.

The Priestess continued, “So it is with the greatest pleasure I bestow upon them the greatest gift our tribe offers – the union of three spirits as one.” And with that, she hovered her arms above them and began winding the vine around their stacked hands with wide, looping gestures that remind Katara of the waves moving in and out on the horizon behind her.

Katara’s hand, trapped between the others, sprung up a sudden sweat. Wasn’t this oddly like—? Zuko must have noticed the same thing, because he was redder than a fire lily, eyes widening as he took in the Priestess’ words––

But a chorus of claps and shouts drowned Katara’s thoughts just as quickly. The Priestess raised their joint hands triumphantly into the air, and Katara, caught in the vibrancy of the moment, went with it. The Priestess released her remarkable hold on the vines, and the flowers burst away from the vine and cascaded around them in a blur. Aang had joined in on the whooping, just as the children surrounded them, braiding a plum blossom into Katara’s hair here, a cluster of champas tucked behind Zuko’s hairpiece there. Two kids were resourcefully measuring up Aang’s head for the beginnings of a jasmine chain.

She took their hands, took in their identical grins, and her heart swelled.

“Now,” the Priestess said, reserving a sly wink for her. “Let's eat and then we'll get your marriage scroll printed.”

Katara and Zuko gawked. Aang, it didn’t escape her notice, firmly avoided their eyes.

#Anonymous #zutaraang #zutaraangdrabblechallenge #mod k

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the-crowess · 3 years

Text

Altrovough: Adventure on Every Horizon

Chapter 1: Out of the Dark I hadn't been playing for six months. Not because it had become too expensive. Not because work became too much for me. Not because I got a significant other. Not because the community was bad or anything like that. No, I hadn't played in six months because my avatar was stuck in a trap.

There are glitches, you see. Somehow in this modern VR experience there are still glitches. And with glitches comes assholes who use those glitches to their advantage.

So, here's what happened to me: Me and my party went into a dungeon. We split up. Two went one way, two went the other, and I (though I protested) was by myself. Even though I had a lantern when I walked down into the hallway it was completely black. That should have been my first clue that this was a trap of some sort. My lantern still had fire, but no light was being produced from it. Being promised treasure and being a dumbass, I continued forward into the dark. After walking just far enough into the hallway to make the doorway disappear, I sprung a tile trap.

The floor beneath me sloped downward and I fell rolling after it. Head over heels I fell until I smacked my face and passed out.

I woke up in chains. I was propped up against a wall. My wrists above my head were on short chains, and my ankles on longer chains.

Okay, I thought, no biggy. I'll just restart the day.

Okay, so that didn't work. Which is weird... I'll call my party members...

No service? What the fuck? That's not even an element in this game!

Well, uh, okay I guess I'll just bust out of these—rusty—old—chains!

...

Nope.

After exhausting my options, then exhausting them again I logged off.

For months I kept receiving messages that players were interacting with my avatar, so I would log on, only for them to laugh at me and be utterly and completely unhelpful.

My party visited me four separate times. And all of those times were to make fun or my misfortune, even though they knew that ANYTIME they could unlock the chains and release me. The first time it was all of them together. The captain Jockster (or Jerkstar as I call him) had squatted down in front of me and said, "this is what you get, you know. Playing this way has consequences. Thanks for taking one for the team." Then he had laughed like the drug addicted jackass he was. The others laughed with him. The second time it was only Aliciandria (our rouge) and Marlquan (our cleric). They had been discussing what to do with me when Alicandria accidentally kicked my foot and I responded, and I woke up to them talking about if they should just kill me so that they wouldn't have to worry about how people were judging them for not helping me. The third time it was just Havanio (the sorcerer). He woke me up, then sat across from me and said nothing for an hour. He just sat there like a fucking douchebag and looked at me like I was some caged beast put there for his entertainment. And the last time doesn't matter.

Players of all kinds and from all districts would stop by only to laugh at me. I became a joke, and even more that that I became a meme! Screenshots of my avatar hanging there like a prisoner spread all over the internet. To add to my torture, a player whose avatar was a homely goblin woman would harass me constantly.

Behind the happy smile of someone who literally baked cookies for visitors was a demented maniac. This guy—I know she is a he because he fucking DM'd me dick pics. I think he harassed me for three reasons: 1) I fell right into his trap 2) My avatar is a hot man and I think Little Miss Goblin Man is gay or more likely bi and uncomfortable with his sexuality 3) I think he thought he figured out that the gender of my avatar and the gender of myself might not be the same, and he was definitely trying to intimidate me. This asshole physically and sexually harassed my avatar, and I couldn't even report it!

Not like I didn't try to report it—when I did the staff would send in an NPC (Non-Player Character) and see literally nothing. So, in this trap: it's a glitch mixed with a non-invasive virus; meaning the virus only effects this one spot and not the whole server or game. It can't get into your computer. It like can't get past the firewalls or something I don't really know.

So, not only did this jack-wad figure out a way to trap me, but he also figured out how to keep his dirty deeds hidden from the staff. For almost three months I continued to check in. Two weeks after the initial incident I jumped at every UAN (Unconscious Avatar Notification) but I quickly learned that nobody wanted to help me, they all just wanted to see if the rumors were true and maybe get a picture. Eventually I stopped responding and eventually my avatar fell out of the popular meme rotation.

...

BEEP. BEEP. UAN! Someone's interacting with your character! 😊

BEEP. BEEP. UAN!! Someone's interacting with your character.

BEEP. BEEP. UAN!!! Respond you asshole! You should log on!

"Uhg! Fine!"

I left my lunch (thinking I would return to it real soon) and went to my game room to log on.

I woke to a girl poking my cheek. I snapped at her fingers.

"Oh! Fuck!" She pulled her hand away, shaking off the close call, "you're hard to wake up! Not much for answering your UAN's huh?"

Standing over me was a girl of maybe nineteen. Her clothes draped and flowed about figure in Cleric glory. Great. A fucking cleric. She wouldn't've stood out more. Dark skin with undoubtably "sea green" eyes. Her hair was done up in some completely unattainable style that was loopy with braids and pigtails sectioned into pompoms; it was a shade of maroon that says, "I'm a supporting character, but I want to think I'm a main character!"

"Is it true you've been down here six months?"

"O.O.G."

"What?"

"Out. Of. Game. I've been 'down here' six months out of game."

"Holy cow, man! That's a while."

"Did you need something?"

"Excuse me?"

I made cold eye contact with her, "Did. You. Need. Something?"

"Uh... wellllllll, I heard a rumor that there was some poor fuck stuck down here who can't get himself out."

"Oh. Fantastic." An awkward silence split between us, "well, thanks for stopping by. Take a screenshot, it'll last longer."

She stared blankly at me, "no. I think you misunderstand. I'm here to help you."

"What."

"I'm here to help you."

I couldn't think. Couldn't fathom this thing unfolding in front of me, "what?"

She began to fiddle with the chains on my wrist.

"Wait, no!"

She looked down at me the way a mom would look at her two-year-old who says he doesn't want to eat mashed potatoes because they have eyes and he doesn't want to eat mashed eyeballs.

"Wait." As my heart pounded loudly in my chest, I asked her, "what do you want from me? Like, you—you can't just want to let me go. You must want something from me."

She sat back down on her heels and looked away, her lips followed her eyes away from me and back, and she said, "Well, no. Not really. Like I said: I heard there might be some poor fuck who was trapped and couldn't get out on his own. I thought for my first adventure, I'd go get 'im." Then she went right back to messing with the chains.

I laughed and shook my head.

She stood up and put her hands on her hips, pouting. Lordy, she was cute. The puzzled look on her face gave me some hope that maybe she might actually be able to save me. With a huff she sat down again and confessed, "you're the only reason I got this game. You're a meme, a legend. You're so classic that you're practically nonexistent. Every time this game comes up in social media you're mentioned. On all the subreddits, and in the deepest parts of tumblr—you're there. I just had to come see if you were real, and I was—and still am—planning that if you were actually here that I would help you out."

"No catch?"

"No catch."

I smiled to myself, knowing now that it was I who had the advantage. I could use her. After all, every party needs a healer. Now I just had to make sure she wouldn't ditch me anytime soon. "Are you sure you don't want to try and find a catch? I was a level 52 before this whole ordeal."

She perked up, "what's your level now, cowboy?"

"35."

"What?! You're so dilapidated and all your equipment was stolen. H-HOW?"

"Cause I'm just that awesome." This should do it.

"I've changed my mind!"

Perfect.

"I want you as a bodyguard! For two years—"

"One year."

"Alright, one year." She looked like she wanted to ask me to shake on it, but then thought better of it, "can I please help you out now?"

"Yes."

Very quickly, and with very little trouble she released me from my chains. Bruises and scars tattooed my wrists and ankles. How the coding of this game works is literally so fucking far beyond me. I pulled my limbs into myself, feeling the stiff resistance of time.

"Can you get up?"

Without needing to consider it I said, "no, I don't think so. Do you have any potions that will give me a boost?"

"Oh yes! I knew that if I found you, you'd need medical help immediately, so I spent all the gold from my—"

"All your gold??? Are you stupid?"

"Whaaaa? I-I... I—just—"

"Whatever. We'll figure it out. What potions do you have?"

She nodded very curtly, and pulled up her bag contents and read them off to me: "fifteen Good Health Potions, fifteen Great Health Potions, fifteen Fantastic Health Potions, ten Boost 'Ems, seven Leaves Of Health, two Gladiator Liquid Bandages and two Beats of Life. What'll it be?"

"Gimme a Boost 'Em."

She tapped on the icon and a Boot 'Em materialized in her hand. She put it out to me, but when I grabbed for it, she pulled away. I of course made eye contact with her, thinking she was gonna pull a fast one on me. Instead she said, "Valhalla."

"What?" My immediate confusion fell away into fear. This must be a trick. But why would she do that? It doesn't make any sense. I'm clearly smarter than her. It's me that's tricking her, why would she—

"That's my name. Valhalla."

The interruption of my panicked thinking threw me off guard. That's a stupid name. Before I could tell her how stupid I thought her name was she put the Boost 'Em in my hand.

Taking the potion, I had trouble removing the cork. Valhalla silently offered her help, but I shooed her away. I grumbled something about how I was perfectly capable of doing it myself.

With much effort and significant struggling, I yanked the cork out and threw it over my shoulder. Only for it to bounce off the wall and back into my lap. With the kind of drunken vigor seen at taverns I swallowed the creamy blue liquid. The moment it touched my lips, a feeling of power hit me like caffeine in a low-calorie energy drink. Going down my throat it felt like warm milk and honey. Electrifying energy flowed outward from my middle. It snaked its way through my arms and legs. It made my fingers and toes tingle like pins and needles.

I leapt up, a new man. I knew this wouldn't last long, and I knew that later this would end up hurting me more, but fuck.

Fuck this feels good.

"Do you have any weapons?"

"Uh, yeah." Valhalla pulled up her bag again and tapped on the Equipment tab. "What do you want?"

There were certainly more weapons than should have been in her bag if she had just started, let alone had spent all her starter gold on potions. I chose to ignore this. "I'll take the mace." I reached up and engaged with the weapon. The heavy steel handle materialized in my outstretched hand. By the look on her face, it must have been the first time Valhalla had seen anyone engage. I'm glad I was able to be the one to show her, in all the glory I could muster.

"This is a pretty nasty weapon, baby." I swung it a couple of times, feeling the weight; testing the blow power.

"I picked it up because I liked the color!"

I laughed, "I guess I overlooked the purple steel, but this will do nicely."

"Nicely for what?"

"Do me a favor, doll. You see that door over there? Go knock."

"Okay, but," she came right up close to me and stuck her face in mine, "I'm not a fucking doll."

"Noted."

I followed her as she warily walked to the door of the goblin woman's kitchen. Valhalla knocked timidly on the door.

"Come in!" The goblin wench cooed, "I just baked some fresh cookies! We can pose next to the body if you want!"

I caught Valhalla frown and furrow her brows at "the body".

Oh how sweet this will taste, I thought as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I passed in front of Valhalla whispering, "stay back."

I slid through the open door. The goblin hag had her back to me, this couldn't have been planned more perfectly. I crept up behind her with my mace raised above my head and my six-foot-five shadow engulfed her. She turned around with horror, a tray of cookies in hand. Her eyes widened and she tensed as if she were to scream.

But I didn't give her a chance.

"Your actions have consequences."

I let the mace fall down upon her head. The crack of her skull resonated harmoniously with the clang of the cookie sheet on the ground. Giddy joy sprung forth from me as I smashed the mace into her again and again. The second blow shattered her ribcage. Her ribs sprang up and splintered through her tissue. Smashing her hands made her fingers pop off, they flew in all directions. A blow to her thigh created a fountain. Warm blood hit my bare chest, my exposed legs. It splattered on my face. It coated my hands. It made the mace slippery in my hands. Her blood soaked what little was left of my shorts. It sprayed the walls, the kitchy table and chairs, the coffee pot and baking ingredients. Blood decorated the cookies that now laid scattered on the floor.

Satisfied by the pulpy mound of oozing, squirting flesh and bone I subsided. Reaching down, I tore a blood-soaked rag from her dress. Turning to the wall I wrote LEAVE.

Standing back, I let out a heavy sigh. The effects of the Boost 'Em would soon wear off. I turned around and cracked my neck. I looked over in Valhalla's direction, but over her head. "I need some new clothes." I declared.

She stared at me. Her eyes pulled mine in and her mouth morphed into a grin, "fuck. YEAH!"

"Huh??????"

"Dude she called you 'the body'. And we both know that she was the reason you were stuck down here. Plus: THAT WAS AWESOME!!! I am so glad I came to find you! Best $130 dollars I ever spent." She then ran up and hugged me. The contact made me tense up.

I shook out of her embrace, "let's get out of this dungeon."

She led the way out. It was different from the way I had come in. We walked down the hallway that I had stared at for so long, hoping that somebody, anybody would come for me. Not ten feet into the tunnel we turned a corner and there was the exit. My stomach dropped. I felt sick.

It had been so close the whole time. Learning this made me want to revive that sonofabitch just to kill her all over again.

Emerging into the sunlight hurt my eyes. I was blinded.

What a sight we must have been. Myself: six-five, soaked in blood, starved, almost naked. Her: small, sweet-looking, fresh-faced, and not a drop of blood on her.

I still couldn't really see when somebody started talking. "Hey, are you guys okay?"

"Oh, we're fine," Valhalla sang sweetly sang sweetly next to me. At that very moment, I lost all my energy. My health bar plummeted, and sirens rang through my headset. My vison flashed red. I fell to the ground.

The group that had approached watched, alarmed. Valhalla looked like she wanted to eat her words.

Stupid girl. She had no idea what to do.

I had fifteen seconds before I'd die. This had happened once before when my former party and I had just started the game. We got attacked by a level 20 dragon and one strike had me seeing red.

10 seconds.

They were bickering about the best course of action. They had no idea I was on the brink of death. Valhalla stared at me looking like a lost idiot.

The sky began to spin. Valhalla's blurry silhouette swayed above me.

Did she forget about all that stuff she bought? How many gaming hours did she log before she came to find me? Did she even go on the tutorial adventure? I mean, you can technically skip it, but—

"BEAT." I coughed out then my head lolled.

The party erupted into tense panic.

5 seconds.

Oh please, please Valhalla. Please don't let me die. After all, you told me you came to save me. So save me!

Just as if she could hear my internal pleas, a beat was shoved in my mouth and my jaw forced upward from the outside to crush it. The juicy tuber gushed in my mouth. I felt Valhalla's hand on my lips, pressing down to keep everything in. I'd heard rumors of the experience of Beat of Life. Some players said they almost wish their party members would have let them die. The juice was hot, potent, and sour. So sour is made my jaw ache. It felt like someone was twisting a wheel, making my jaw tighter and tighter. My teeth felt like they were going to pop out of their gums. It burned my throat, made my eyes water and my nose run. My stomach did not want to accept it. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't move. Hot flashes waved through my body. An ocean of churning heat pushed and pulled at my organs, my brain. I could feel myself sweating. Growing hotter by the moment. My head swam. My limbs grew numb. I passed out.

I was saved. Unconscious, but saved.

But Valhalla didn't know that. Stupid girl, skipping the tutorial. What was she thinking? Guess I'd have to ask her when I woke up.

And so I took off my headset and it was dusk.

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pigeon-princess · 4 years

Note

I'm would literally die to know what happened 💜

To explain what happened with Tybalt I have to give a bit of context so I hope this doesn’t end up too incredibly long ahaha!!

Tybalt and Evris

Tybalt and the rest of his adventuring party were replying to a distress call from a wealthy manor owned by the Ithiar family. When we arrived we saw the whole place was wrecked, the dead bodies of servants, guards and wolf-like creatures were scattered throughout the house.

Scanning the hallways we found a portrait gallery displaying paintings of members of the family. Tybalt’s eye particularly caught on the oldest son, a handsome young drow man with short dark hair. Being a romantic and an idiot, Tybalt joked to the party about a heroic rescue and how the young drow would fall head over heels in love with him.

After some intense combat with the jackals, we heard a gut wrenching scream from upstairs. On the top landing we stumbled on the freshly dead body of the very same drow, now a bloody mess on the floor with his throat ripped out. Unable to revive him, the rest of the party sprung into action to kill the jackals and save the drow’s younger sister, who through a face full of tears, told us her brother's name was Evris. AS I PLAYER I ALMOst Broke down at that point. TYBALT just shut down, going through the rest of the manor feeling useless, selfish and guilty. At one point, Tybalt decided to gently pick up Evris’s body and carry him back to his bed, closing his eyes and saying that he was sorry he wasn’t able to save him.

With the help of Sabia the younger sister, we traced the source of the Jackals to a dungeon in the mountains only to be shocked when Sabia sprung a trap on us in the throne room, turning back into her true form as a half woman, half lion monstrosity.

At the height of battle, the doors to the throne room slammed open and in stormed the young, handsome drow, clothes disheveled and bloody but very much alive. The whole table started screaming, I absolutely jumped to my feet. He helped us defeat the Lamia, and told us that he wasn’t sure how he was alive, and that he had been resurrected through some kind of contract with a god.

Throughout the last session, Tybalt’s muscle memory as a bodyguard really kicked in and he was very protective over Evris, especially since he was facing the dead bodies of his family and to be honest, I think Tybalt (AND myself) was just in shock that he was still alive. The whole party was very concerned for his mental well being, and Evris was definitely starting to get frustrated at how much we were trying to baby him.

Before the party left the manor for the morning, Tybalt got very close and took Evis gently by the chin, just casually inspecting his face. He then pulled away cheekily saying “Just checking to make sure you’re still alive.” and walked off down the stairs, leaving Evris standing dumbstruck in the foyer.

During the events of the day, talking to the captain of the guard, discussing a plan of action to help Evris find the rest of his family and an afternoon at the spa, Tybalt told the party that he was adopted by the Montague family and that he was the bodyguard for their son Romeo. Rolling a natural 20 on insight, Evris could sense that there was something bitter sweet about the way Tybalt talked about Romeo, especially when he mentioned that Romeo recently got married.

We returned to the Idlehammer tavern for a rowdy evening and as the party was going to bed, Tybalt cornered Evris in the hallway, once again taking his chin gently, he inspected his face saying “Hmm Good to know you’re still alive. Goodnight.” (totally meaning for it to be flirty and a bit cheeky) but when he turned to leave Evris grabbed his arm. When Tybalt turned back he was not expecting to see Evris was looking at him very seriously, with an edge of confusion and frustration. He very firmly stated that that he definitely wasn’t undead (WHICH Tybalt had no intention of implying), and that he’s sick and tired of people treating him like he can’t handle himself, Tybalt was quite taken aback to say the least. Evris then berated him and asked him why he was acting so strangely around him and after stammering out some excuse about wanting to protect him, THE FINAL KICK In the gut was that Evris straight up told Tybalt, “I don’t know what your history was with Romeo but I don’t need to be protected and stop treating me like I’m him!”

That sent Tybalt’s head absolutely spinning, having to take a step back to breathe and realising that Evris was completely right and that he had been seeing Evris as Romeo. The memories of his first love, the one person he would give everything for, the person who he watched fall madly in love with another, knocked him into a stunned silence.

Leaving Tybalt with that, Evris said a solemn goodnight and returned to his room. I told the DM that Tybalt was not going back to his room, and instead was going to go out of the tavern and ask people where the nearest brothel was. The entire party at the table was losing their minds and none of us could believe how quickly things had escalated. With the memories of Romeo spinning in his mind, Tybalt reverted back to the only coping mechanism that he had, which was throwing himself into the arms of strangers.

AND THAT was how we left the last session!!??? AAA? There’s so much I had to leave out about the party and all the little in between moments throughout the last few sessions but that’s the general story of what happened with Tybalt. I’m living for the angst and I’m very determined to draw some of these events out in comics or illustrations when I have the time!

#dnd #Tybalt #Evris #Dungeons and Dragons #d&d #IM STILL EMOTIONAL #dnd story #EVRIS WAS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT #THE DRAMA THE ROMANCE #Anonymous

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beckzorz · 5 years

Text

Screwed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Summary: There are worse people to be trapped in a bunker with. Warnings: language, smut (oral sex) If you are under 18 you should not be reading this.

“If this is your idea of romance, you’re screwed.”

Bucky twists his head to glare at you. “Listen, sweetheart, maybe if you hadn’t sprung a trap we’d be having a better time.”

“Sure, Barnes.” You lick your thumb and try to wipe a streak of dirt off the collar of your dress. How much money did you spend getting ready for an ‘urban adventure’ with a hot superhero? And how much of it is already wasted, fifteen minutes in? Dress ruined, hair mussed, heel broken. “Because of the two of us, I’m definitely the one with training in disarming traps.”

No response. Bucky tests the smooth walls of the bunker, looking for a crack, a door, anything.

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have tested that lever. But you’re with an Avenger! You should’ve been safe. Not dropped thirty feet down a chute onto a filthy thick mattress in a bunker.

If only the chute hadn’t closed after you. Bucky could climb out, get help. But no, you’re sealed in like a can of tuna. And with your broken shoe, you’re not much help. At least the mattress is mostly just dusty. No broken glass or anything weird like that. It’s just cold and dark, with only your cell phone flashlight for illumination.

Bucky circles the perimeter. You tug his discarded bomber jacket over your shoulders for warmth. You’re flooded once again by the smell of him, heady and rich and unique. You breathe it in as you watch him work, the shifting of his muscles under his tight shirt plus the occasional glimpse of that perfect profile enough to get your heart beating a little faster. Not to mention the way his black jeans strain against his thighs and ass as he crouches in the corner. You lick your lips and shift on the mattress.

“Might not be romantic, but you’re getting turned on anyway,” Bucky says out of the blue.

You gape. “Excuse me?!”

He smirks at you over his shoulder. “I can hear your heartbeat, y’know.” His nostrils flare, but you cut in before he can comment on anything else.

“Well that’s none of your goddamn business.”

His laugh is bright and delightful and warm, so warm you wonder if you really do need the jacket over your shoulders. Then you breathe in again, catch his scent, and decide yes, you certainly do.

“So,” he says eventually. He’s about halfway around the bunker now. “What would be romantic?”

“Significantly less dust,” you say at once.

He snorts. “Adventures aren’t usually clean, y’know.”

“Well, this is the wrong kind of dirty.”

The words leave your lips before you realize just what you’ve said. A flush pricks at your cheeks, but you don’t correct yourself. He asked a question, and you’re just being honest.

Bucky pauses. He’s crouched down on one knee a few feet from you, his metal hand splayed on the wall and gleaming in the diffused light. Your eyes dart between those sleek fingers and the curve of his jaw.

He turns his head just enough for you to see the glitter in his dark eye. One quick inhale, and he barrels into you, knocking you back onto the mattress with a gasp, his metal hand curled around the side of your neck as his breath washes over your face and his chest brushes yours. You can feel how warm he is even though not one inch of his skin is touching yours.

Then he ducks his head and sucks a mark against your throat. You arch into him, crying out, the sensation shooting straight to your breasts, between your legs. You bury your hands in his hair, tight and barely in control. It’s an eternity before he pulls far enough back to meet your eyes. And his eyes, normally so blue, are utterly black.

“Is this the right kind of dirty?” he murmurs.

You tilt your hips up, teeth bared in a reckless grin as you brush up against the bulge in his jeans. “Not yet.”

A growl. A harsh rip of your dress, and then two of his fingers are stuffed inside you. Your scream is all pleasure; it echoes in the bunker, fading into a desperate moan as Bucky’s thumb circles your clit, your arousal slick. Your panties are shoved to one side, biting into one hip, but you barely register it.

“You smell so damn sweet,” he groans. He shoves your legs apart and buries his head between your legs, hooking one over his shoulder. Your hands are still tangled in his hair, and it’s all you can do to hold on as he swipes his tongue through your damp folds.

The bunker fills with the wet sounds of Bucky eating you out, his mouth working in tandem with his fingers as he brings you to the brink faster than you can ever remember. Maybe it’s the lightness in the air, maybe it’s the danger, maybe it’s him—but it’s minutes before you’re half-blind and babbling, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

“Bucky Bucky fuck—oh god, yes, please, don’t stop—oh!”

You can’t see his eyes, can’t see his face, but you can feel the smirk on his face as he sucks your clit into his mouth, hard.

Your body seizes up, pleasure lancing through you from your clit to your nipples to your hazy brain, the tips of your fingers and your toes curled, one foot bare and pressed against Bucky’s shoulder. Spasms wrack your body as you ride out your orgasm, Bucky’s fingers still thrusting inside you until you come back to yourself.

You collapse, breathless, your leg falling back onto the mattress and your hands sliding out of his hair. Bucky sits back on his heels, licks his lips, kneads your thighs. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, but he looks more smug than any man has a right to.

“Was that the right kind of dirty?”

“Screw you, Barnes.”

“If you insist.”

As it happens, you do.

For HBC’s drunk drabbles! Thanks for hosting loves! @the-ss-horniest-book-club

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my HBC stuff xoxo

#hbc drunk drabbles #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes

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teejiplier · 4 years

Text

Sealed with a Kiss

Summary: Illinois had left you feeling...some kind of way. Those feelings resurface, and are in turn, revealed.

Content Warning: Near Death Experience, Angst

Relationship: Illinois/Reader

AO3 Link: X

AN: HUGE shoutout to the Yancy discord server for helping me through this. ESPECIALLY Mary for helping me come up with the end.

You weren't sure what to do after monkey heaven. With a golden banana and perfect diamond, however, you were sure you could do anything. Maybe take them to a museum, or a jewelers, or just sell them on eBay.

Maybe not that last one.

You decided on a museum, it's what Illinois would've wanted, you think. As you begin to exit the cave, you saw where you had first entered, and subsequently met the adventurer.

You recalled one of the first things he had said to you upon your agreement to join him.

"Oh great! That's awesome! It's not every day you meet someone that's willing to face almost certain death on a daily basis. Good on you!"

You smile fondly, as you finally enter the light...the moon light that is. You weren't sure how much time you had spent with Illinois, but it seemed to have been the entire day. Perhaps time flows differently in heaven.

Regardless, you pressed on. You looked up to see the sky filled with stars, and couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

"I think this is destiny."

Illinois voice echoed inside your head, and you found yourself missing his presence. If only to look at the stars with you, maybe have him point out the constellations, if he knew any, and you could show him your favorites.

There was so much you wanted to show him, so much you thought he could show you. But soon enough, you remembered why that couldn't be.

"Yes. I am single, but I'm married to the job, and my associates never last long, so, best not to get too attached."

Dammit. You had gotten attached. He had explicitly told you not to and yet, here you were. Looking at the stars, wandering around, completely lost. You had gotten caught up in your own head, and now you didn't recognize where you were.

Of course, you could stay where you were and possibly wait for help, but where was the fun in that? With the addition of the fact that you had just broken into a museum, being found was not that appealing.

Soon enough, you had made your way back to the car. Perhaps Mark's impeccable sense of direction had rubbed off on you. What hadn't though, was the ability to hot wire a car. So once again, you were stranded.

What would Illinois do? You weren't exactly sure. Perhaps he would say something suave, and saunter off into the darkness. No, you couldn't do that, darkness was all around you, and you couldn't think of anything very suave at the moment.

But as you laid in the back of the car, looking at the stars, thinking of something suave to say, you had an idea. What if you used the stars to get home? You knew Polaris was the north star, and if you could find the little dipper, you could possibly find your way back to the museum, and if you found your way there, you could find your way back to base.

While on you way back, your thoughts drifted to Illinois again. You wondered what he was doing right now, was he looking up at the same stars as you? You could only hope. Was he on another adventure? Did he have a new associate? That thought hurt your heart. He probably did. Another person had probably fallen in love with him, despite his warnings. At least he was kind enough to apologize before you parted ways.

"Thanks for the fun adventure, and I'm sorry if you fell in love with me, they always do."

"Illinois, you are an enigma." You said to yourself. There was so much you wanted to know about him and yet you never spoke up during the time you two spent together.

Just as you were kicking yourself for your inability to speak up for yourself, you heard a rustling coming from nearby. You didn't have any of your gear with you, so there wasn't much in the way of protecting yourself. And the gem and golden banana! You had no way of protecting those either. Well, you figured you could use the gem as a blunt object to throw at the assailant.

You tried your best to be hidden in the tall grass, watching, waiting for something to come into your sight. Finally, you saw the outline of a figure and you sprung into action. You jumped up and threw the gem at them as hard as you could. You heard an audible 'thunk' followed by an "ow!" before you saw what you had hit.

And in a sick twist of fate, you realized, with horror, that it was Illinois.

"Oh my gosh I am so sorry I didn't realize it was you and I was scared and-" You began, apologizing a mile a minute before he brought his hand up to stop you.

"Don't worry about it, wasn't nothing ol' Illinois, seasoned adventurer, couldn't handle." He drawled, pausing before realizing where the two of you were.

"Speakin' of adventures, what are you doin' all the way out here? You on your own adventure without me?" He teased.

"In a way. I got lost, found my way back, and then got lost again. Heard something creeping around me, threw a gem at it. You know, typical adventure stuff. Why are you out here?" You asked, genuinely curious. There wasn't much out here, besides grass and trees, not much of a forest, more so a wood.

"Well I was making my way back from the cave when I could've sworn I heard someone say my name. Due to my impeccable tracking skills I was able to track the sound to this area, before I was hit in the head with, what I now know, was a gem. Where did you even get that anyways?" He asked as he started to look around for the said item.

"You know that rock you got from Monkey Heaven that you decided to throw away?" You said.

"Yeah? What about it?" He questioned.

"It was in there." You said, waiting to gauge his reaction. As soon as the words had tumbled out of your mouth, he froze, and then started shaking. Was...was the great Illinois crying? No, you thought, it couldn't be. But just as you reached out to touch him, you could hear. He was laughing.

"Leave it to an adventurer to not see the true worth of a rock." He chuckled.

"Aha!" He exclaimed, rising from his kneeling position with the gem. Which wouldn't have been a problem, but given how you were reaching out to check on him, you hadn't moved away and now the two of you were standing almost nose to nose.

It wasn't like you were complaining though. In fact, being this close was nice. You could feel the breath exhaling from him, and you could see the patterns in his eyes. His eyes, you could get lost in them. They reflected the stars, and as you stated deeply into his, you felt as though he was looking into yours, looking at you soul, trying to understand it, like ancient writings on a wall. And suddenly all you could think about was Illinois. What he did when he wasn't adventuring, how he liked his coffee, did he even like coffee? What it would be like to wake up next to him,and hear his groggy morning voice, and you wondered how it would be if you just leaned in and-

"Here, you probably want this back." He said sheepishly, taking your hand and putting the gem in it. His hand lingered for a moment before he quickly retracted it, turning away from you.

"Best head out now, I suppose. Adventure waits for no one." He said, before he turned back to look at you. "I don't suppose you would want to come, would you?

You had to restrain yourself from screeching.

"An adventure sounds lovely." You said, more composed than you actually felt.

He began to lead you through the woods, which did eventually turn into a forest, and soon enough, there was a forest temple. He lead you in, and slowly the two of you meandered through the temple. Though something seemed different, Illinois seemed more on edge. You knew he knew the dangers of the job, so why was he anxious? Was there something in this temple he wasn't telling you? That couldn't be it though, he was honest to a fault, always speaking his mind.

So why now was he silent?

The traps themselves were simple enough to avoid, and yet Illinois nearly got hit by all of them. Something was definitely up, but you weren't sure if you should mention it. Maybe later.

"Alright, I think we're at the center of the temple." He said.

"What makes you think that?" You ask.

"The giant Jaguar statue that's missing an eye." He mentioned casually.

Oh. Yeah, that'll do it. You probably missed it due to your worrying over Illinois himself. Actually, now that you were looking at the Jaguar statue you got to looking at it's eye. For some reason it seemed eerily familiar and-

"Illinois give me a hand here." You said, eyes not leaving the statue. "I need you to bend over."

His face went red immediately, but you didn't notice.

"Uh, ha, what do you mean?" He managed to choke out.

"Give me a boost." You said looking back to him. And you looked at him curiously until it finally clicked in your mind and wow you really had said that hadn't you. Good job. Maybe if you pretended like you didn't mean anything by it he'll believe that. Maybe. Regardless, the moment passed, and up you went, climbing on to the rocks to reach the top.

You took out the large gem that you had gotten from the Monkey cave, and compared it to the gem in the Jaguar's eye. Could it really be that simple? And what was the gem doing in the monkey cave if it belonged here? Perhaps you could ask Illinois afterwards.

You placed the gem into the eye socket, which was followed by a soft click. Before you knew it the Jaguar began to shake violently, and you lost you grip. You felt yourself falling and thinking, what Illinois had said about near death experiences.

You heard you name being called out as you fell, but it sounded distant. You paid it no mind and hit the floor of the temple with a sharp crack.

You wake up, groggily, after what feels like ages. It's still night when you wake up, and there's a warm heat radiating from somewhere. You take in your surroundings and see a small campsite, with a fire pit and pitched tent. You had no idea how you had gotten here though. The last thing you remember was putting a gem into a socket and falling while you were in a temple with...Illinois! You looked around desperately for him, and you tried to get up, but as soon as you did you needed to sit back down. Your head was pounding. But that didn't matter. You needed to find Illinois.

"Illinois!" You were frantically shouting out his name, hoping against hope that he had made it out. If he hadn't...no. You couldn't think like that. He had to have made it out. He couldn't...he couldn't be... Your head was throbbing to the point where you couldn't even hear yourself think. Much less hear the footsteps of someone approaching you until they had put a hand on your shoulder.

You whipped around to see who it was, which in retrospect, only exacerbated the problem, and saw Illinois himself. He was a little worse for wear from what you could tell, but he was there. And that was all that mattered.

Or at least that's what you thought.

You had began to pull him into a hug when he pushed you away. The pain in your heart as he did this was so much worse than the one in your head.

"What-" You began, before being cut off by Illinois.

"That was the stupidest thing you could've ever done." He said curtly.

"What are you talking ab-" You tried to get out.

"How could you be so stupid? Do you even think about the consequences your actions might have?" He said, his voice full of venom.

"Well you're one to talk, Mr everyone falls in love with me."

"BUT THAT DOESN'T LEAD TO PEOPLE GETTING HURT!"

"OH IT DOESN'T? WHAT MAKES OUR ACTIONS SO DIFFERENT THEN?"

"THE FACT THAT YOU HAVE PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU! YOU HAVE PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU! YOU CAN'T JUST GO AND THROW YOUR LIFE AWAY!"

"SO WHAT? YOU ALWAYS SEEM SO EAGER TO DO IT! WHAT WAS UP WITH YOU TODAY HUH? YOU NEARLY GOT YOUR SELF KILLED BY EVERY TRAP IN THE TEMPLE!"

"THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

"HOW?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU DAMMIT!" He said with a finality that left you speechless.

"You, love me?" You asked, hesitantly.

"Yes," he said, sighing as he sat down and put his head in his hands," I love you."

"You love me." You said again, this time to yourself, processing the words. Your head was ringing, most likely because of the shouting, and you nearly collapsed. But Illinois was there to catch you. He laid you down gently, and put your head in his lap.

"You've kept your cool and have been up to the challenge every time I've asked. I'm not used to that. And, you care about me, which is something I'm much more used to and yet, it's so jarring." He took a brief pause to collect his thoughts.

"When you fell from that Jaguar, I couldn't save you, and that was the most terrible thing to ever happen to me. I'm so used to people falling for me, that when I realized I had fallen for you, I was scared. The thought of losing you to one of those traps or something worse, I knew I wouldn't be able to bear it. I thought that if I hit them, then they wouldn't hit you and I thought I was keeping you safe but...when it really mattered, I wasn't there."

"You wouldn't be any good to anyone if you had gotten taken out you know." You mumbled.

"Better me than you." He said.

"You shouldn't say things like that. You might actually start believing it." You said, reaching up to gently hold his face. He leans into it, without thinking, and smirks.

"It's a bit too late for that, I'm afraid." He said, his scruff gently scratching your hand as his mouth turned towards it, placing a gentle kiss on your palm.

At that, you pulled yourself to face him, and retracted your hand to be in front of him. He seemed sad at first, followed by confusion as you began to speak.

"How about this. I promise not to do anything stupid if you promise not to do anything stupid. Deal?" You stuck your pinky out in front of him. He gently put his hand on yours pushing you hand down into your lap, which scared you.

But before you could start spiraling he began to lean in towards your face and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You were surprised to say the least, but that didn't stop you from kissing back. It was kind, sweet, and you could feel Illinois love for you behind it. You did your best to match it, bringing your hands to his face pulling him impossibly close.

He broke the kiss after a moment though, leaving you breathless and confused before he uttered something you would've missed, had you not been paying such attention to him.

"Deal."

#fic #fic:illinois #ahwm illinois #illinois/reader #/reader

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ayrtontrelfa · 2 years

Photo

Back to Uni once again but in 2022 for the first time! and our first project with mark is a group animation in the same way a professional studio would work, with the main theme being dimensions (short scenes with portals and interesting transitions).

this is the first time I've worked on a project that is this realistic to working in a studio and it was intimidating at first sharing ideas and thoughts that you would like to work on but I warmed up to it quickly and found it really engaging trying to define a project that we all liked and could work on together. Throwing ideas up in the air and seeing what could stick and what wouldn't.

We started by splitting into different groups and brainstorming ideas for shows we could create, my group focused more on trying to find out the type of story we could create and work with (i.e. a story about chasing something important, a story about someone stuck on an interdimensional rollercoaster, an adventurer being chased by a trap he sprung)

once we gathered back together, all the groups began explaining what they had come up with, which was great for seeing different approaches and developments of ideas but you could definitely tell that some people came up with ideas they were very enthusiastic about but couldn't distance themselves enough to potentially let the idea go.

We then moved onto a flip board to write down what everyone had said to then prune the not so great ideas and see what was left to work on, allowing us to really focus on finding a type of story that people would be interested in and interesting to work on. these last 2 parts caused a bit of stress to the group, due to us all falling into a hole of defining irrelevant parts of the animation before we really knew the story we wanted to tell but after having lunch and reconvening, the group was far more level headed and ready to discuss further.

After refamiliarizing what we wrote down in the first meeting we dove straight into fleshing out what we had refined and seeing what flavour of story came from it which lead to us coming together on a story of a witch who needed to find ingredients for a potion she was brewing whilst using magic to travel to the locations of the ingredients with her wisp familiar. This idea got a lot of us invested and generating more ideas for how we could express the characters personality, how they interact with the world, the different ways of moving through the world and how she could incorporate magic.

I'm really happy with the outcome of todays meeting, it was a bit of an uphill start to begin with but considering what we have now its giving me a good sense that we may hit something really aesthetically pleasing, wholesome and fun and I cant wait to develop this further, I think this was also great with helping me connect with my class mates (most of which I barely spoke to before now) and I cant wait to start working and developing this with them. we also had fun coming up with our group studio name which went through a few iterations before we settled on Mad Oranje Studios (which I helped play a leading role in coming up with 😉)

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lucsey-cyprus · 6 years

Text

The Journey .01

Pairing: (eventual)Karkat x Fantroll

Rating: M

Genre/warnings: Fantasy, scifi, thriller, war, romance, adventure/ tw for this chapter; gore, blood.

words: 3415

Summary: What if the Sgrub session never happened? What if the game was stopped before it could even start? What if it was all the fault of some random alien girl who fell from the sky? This is the story of Lucy and how her very existence brought about an entirely different world altering event. The Alternian Uprising. Because, as they say, history has a way of repeating itself.

Notes: This is the revamp of the first chapter of an old fanfic I started a long time ago. I decided to give it another go. If you like ridiculously long plots, violence, slow burn romance, suspense and are a possible fan of extensively researched original characters then why not give it a shot?

Chapter 1

A Foreign Sky

Simmering desert winds blew along the sandy dunes, trickling the small rocks across its surface like beads of water against smooth glass. A bright, molten red sun hung low in the sky. Its fiery heat licked hungrily at the ground below. Even with night now fast approaching there seemed to be nothing to quench its unending thirst.

Among the sands lay a girl, battered and broken. Her beige dress, once long and flowing, now lay strewn about in tatters along the ground. An olive hood stretched out beside her. The remains clung loosely together with thread as thin as spider’s silk. Small burns coated the edges of her body. With a groan her fingers twitched, kneading into the sediment beside her.

Tired eyes opened to piercing white light. With a gasp the girl covered her face, shielding herself from the violent rays threatening to burn into her very skull. The sudden movement made her seethe in agony. Her entire body felt as if it had been burnt to a crisp.

What happened? Her head throbbed. What was this? Sand? Where was she? What...

Her body ached as she lay on the blistering stones surrounding her. Every movement brought a fresh wave of pain. Fire seared through her muscles, scorching hot and tightening beneath her skin. Her heart drummed against her ribs as she fought for breath. The air scraped against her throat like sandpaper.

Very slowly, she managed to roll herself off of her back. The fine grains of sand dug into her side like razors. She winced and hissed through clenched teeth. What kind of place was this?

Her head craned to look into the distance. Nothing but what appeared to be miles and miles of sand in all directions. She groaned at the thought and a frown plastered across her face. Things definitely weren't looking so good from her perspective. Her forehead pulsed and she clenched her eyes shut. If only this blasted headache would go away maybe she could think of a way out of this. It wasn't like she hadn't already been through worse.

With sudden realization filling her mind her eyes snapped open. Where had Mark gone? Had he really done it? Her hands grasped at the rocks beneath her palms. No, he couldn't have. She was still alive. There was no way he managed to succeed. A twinge of pain shot through her wrist and she recoiled. It seemed he had still caused quite a bit of damage. She wasn't one to go down easy, however.

Her eyes squinted as she turned to face the heavens above, shuddering as she blocked the sun from view. The sky shone a deep blue with splashes of purple streaking across the stars as a haze of pink clouds littered here and there. It was unlike anything she had seen before. Her sky back on Earth had never been this rich in color before. Of course, it had been so long since she had seen it. Maybe she was still trapped in the medium after all.

With as much force as she could muster, she brought herself to her feet. Almost immediately her head began to spin. The world titled around her and her knees buckled, sending her crashing back first into the ground below. Static ran up her legs, as if a million ants had swarmed her lower half. Her legs just couldn't handle the sudden pressure. She must have been out longer than she thought.

Out of breath, she forced herself onto her side, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs. Small white lights danced before her eyes as she choked in vain. With a particularly loud cough into her palm she managed to catch her breath. Something green now speckled across her hand. However, she didn't have time to question it. She needed to focus.

After slowly pulling herself up enough to sit she wiped the foreign liquid from her lips. It took everything she had to steady herself as the world wobbled before her. Suddenly her throat felt tight and before she could stop it she lurched forward on all fours, heaving onto the sand. Bright green splashed against the stones as the smell of iron filled her nose. It tasted like blood.

She stared at the strange liquid as it seeped into the ground, staining the surface a florescent lime. It looked as if she had thrown up the inside of a glow stick. With a shake of her head she tried to steady herself. A pang of worry spread through her but she pushed it back. She didn't know what was going on but she wasn't dead yet. And she planned to stay that way.

Bracing herself she slowly brought herself upright once more. Again the world swam before her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth, doing her best to keep her balance. The dry air scorched her throat and brought her back to her senses.

After a few more rapid blinks the scenery seemed to stay put and she gave a weary smile. At least now she could stand. Perhaps now she could try to find a way out of this sweltering wasteland. She just needed to keep focused.

She held a shaky, sooted hand in front of her face and clenched it into a fist. She needed to keep calm and figure out what was going on on. What exactly had led her to the situation she was in right now? What could have possibly caused this.

Explosions, adrenaline, the very fabric of space ripping at its seams. The face of her comrade, glaring at her as as he rained destruction upon their session. Her two co-players long since gone as she faced him alone. She was frightened. She didn't want to die. The game didn't matter anymore, her world didn't even matter anymore. Everyone was gone. It had been years since their purpose had held any meaning in this universe. There was nothing left to save. Nothing except herself. She wasn't going to let him take that away from her.

In a last desperate effort to stop the Prince she had lunged at him, filling herself with her aspect, unwilling to let go. But it was too late. Before her the Prince of Space had swallowed himself whole in a whirling spiral of black. Everything was shrinking and dissipating at an alarming rate. Their very universe was being destroyed.

Within a matter of seconds she had been sucked into the enlarging black hole. Every part of her was crushed from every angle. Her mind fought to stay conscious in the suffocating darkness. Unfortunately, that was where her memory split off. That was the last thing she remembered.

Was she still in the medium? Things certainly still seemed alien enough. Her body ached and she let out a sigh. She was definitely still alive, it seemed as well. If she felt this much pain there was no way she could be dead. But where on Earth was she? No. Earth didn't exist anymore. One of the world's must have survived her teammates sudden self destruction. Though she couldn't recall ever stepping foot on any particular one like this.

A low, quiet groan broke her train of thought and she peaked around behind her. Her eyes shifted, looking through the hazy desert. The sun was heading even lower in the horizon behind her. Another moan cut through the silence and she stumbled, looking in all directions. Her heart almost beat out of her chest and the sudden unexpected noise.

Then, over in the distance, she spotted it. Something was moving towards her from atop one of the far sand dunes. The sun blazed behind them on the horizon, casting a lengthy shadow of the strange figure across the sand. It almost looked human. Whoever it was seemed hunched over, limping forward in a jerky manner. Perhaps they were hurt as well. This might be her chance! She had to get their attention. Maybe they could help each other out of this desert.

“Hey! Over here!! Can you see me?!" She called with a hoarse voice, waving her arms over her head the best she could. She winced as her muscles twinged from the effort. The dizziness filling her head worsened, forcing her to drop her arms rather quickly. Maybe that hadn't been the best idea.

No response. Maybe they really were hurt just as much as she was. After all, she could've sworn she had heard a moan of pain come from their direction. With this blasted heat and the stale air it wouldn't surprise her. She was ready to believe anything at this point.

She called out to the stranger in the distance once more. Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the figure showed no signs of response. She decided then that if they wouldn't come to her that she would go to them. Even if it did hurt to walk through this stinging sand prison so be it. Greater numbers meant a better chance of survival. Besides, if anything at least she would be able to help them out at the very least. She never was very good at healing herself but others were an entirely different story. The most she could do was keep herself alive, and that wasn't even entirely her own doing either.

“I'm coming over to you!” she yelled after them, regardless of if they could hear her or not. With heavy feet she began her trek forward. Her eyes remained locked on the blurry figure on the hill. It was her only method to help keep her balance steady and the dizziness at bay. As she held her gaze trained forward something seemed off about the mysterious stranger. They didn't just seem like they were hurt anymore. Something about them seemed... unnatural.

Suddenly a second shadow sprung up beside the first and her features wavered. A feeling of uneasiness slithered down her spine. Within seconds her eyes widened as yet another figure appeared behind the others. Then another... and another... and another. The mob was growing exponentially. Hundreds of lurching bodies had started crawling up from behind the hill at an alarming rate.

A look of pure terror melded to her face as the realization struck her. She took an uneasy step back. The sand burned like fire underneath her sole. These things were not human, nor any other kind of friendly creature she had ever encountered. They were not going to help her. As their faces locked onto hers she let out a gasp and took another worried step backward. The mass of bodies had finally become aware of her existence and began sprinting towards her. Their limbs flailed wildly alongside them. As she looked onward in terror a fresh breeze blew across her face nearly causing her to drop from disgust.

Horrible, putrid and rotten, the stench burned through her senses. Her hands sprang to cover her nose and mouth as she choked violently. She stumbled backwards in surprise as the horrifying smell washed over her. It was beyond anything she had ever been exposed to before. It was the stench of death. Only one thought occupied her fear addled mind. She had to get out of there, fast. She needed to run.

Wrenching her legs from the spot, she lurched backwards putting the creatures behind her along with the blazing setting sun. In a rapid burst of adrenaline she broke out into a sprint. Her vision swayed and it took every ounce of control she possessed to keep herself from tripping over her own feet. The distant sound of moaning and groaning only continued on behind her. With every step she took their cries only became louder and louder, hungrily calling after her. She had to get away. Had to keep moving.

Fire ate at her legs the faster she moved them. Every pounding step she took sent a new wave of pain up her injured legs. Her soles felt bloody and charred against the sharp grains of sand. Every breath she took threatened to choke her insides as the dry air filled her lungs over and over again. Even her sweat seemed close to boiling against her sizzling skin. There was nothing she could do but fight back the tears and push through it.

No matter how fast she moved, unfortunately, the decaying odor wafting from behind her only grew in strength. She gagged as sweat glistened down her neck and back. Her eyelids began to feel heavy as exhaustion raged through her. But still she pushed on.

Suddenly something in the distance her caught her eye. A castle of some sort perhaps? Standing tall and proudly centered in a grassy oasis stood a large pole-like structure with a branch split off from the side. Large colorful flags attached to the structure flapped freely in the wind. Trees stood scattered around the strange yet welcoming building. She had never seen something so beautiful in all her life. For some reason she knew she had to reach this building. This tower meant survival. With the pounding footsteps growing louder behind her, however, her hopes began to feel a bit shaken.

The fear bubbling inside her chest was way too real. There was no way she was going to make it in time. She could already feel her legs starting to slow, aching from fatigue. Her energy was depleting fast and a burning cramp had started crawling up her side. Every inch of her was screaming in pain. But she couldn't stop now. She was so close.

In an error of judgment she turned her head to look at the horde trailing behind her. No more than twenty feet away she finally saw them for what they were. They were even worse up close. Rotting grey flesh clung to their bodies by nothing more than twisted strands of muscle and shredded skin, oozing every color of the rainbow from their festering wounds. Their milky white eyes, lidless and ghost-like, stared her down. Outstretched hands revealed sharp yellow claws protruding from each finger. A pair of horns to match protruded from their skulls, some shattered or broken near the base. The sight was too much for her to take and with a sharp intake of breath she let out an ear piercing scream.

Her legs quickly locked from panic and she stumbled forward. Tripping over her own feet she was met with a face full of jagged sand as she came crashing down. She struggled desperately to right herself back up once more. Her hands dug urgently into the rocks beneath her, scrambling against them in a frenzy. She couldn't die now. Not now.

Right before she managed to get her footing, something rough and slimy grasped tightly around her ankle and pulled her straight back down. She shrieked and clawed at the sand in vain. The monster was pulling her back effortlessly and she struggled to free herself. She was caught.

She rolled over onto her back, flailing in a panic, only to find herself face to face with the mob she had been trying so desperately to outrun. Her heart leapt into her throat and she screamed. She started kicking violently in a frenzied effort to free herself. Their clammy grasp seemed almost unbreakable.

In a twist of fate one of her kicks managed to make contact with the head of the monster pinning her in place. With a sickening crunch she sent it flying high into the swarm beginning to circle around her. She was released almost instantaneously and quickly scrambled backwards to avoid the toppling body of the- hopefully -dead monster.

With a newfound burst of energy she managed to quickly drag herself back to her feet and set into a sprint. She narrowly avoided the demons closing in on her as she urged her decrepit body to move faster still. Here chest ached with every breath she took as her legs pumped harder along with her fearful heart. Every atom inside her screamed for her to stop. Her insides were tearing apart from the effort. Even with the agony she couldn't stop. With her goal right before her eyes she sped onward. The tower almost seemed to glow before her, mirroring her hope lodged deep inside her.

But it wasn't the building that was glowing. In fact, the world around her seemed to be growing darker. Even the temperature was starting to decelerate faster than she thought possible. A shiver ran down her spine. The air felt like ice.

Within seconds of the new darkness spreading across the land a chorus of terrible screams erupted from behind her. A body fell against her back, knocking her to the ground in a heap. She squirmed and wriggled, trying to pull herself out from under the creature now thrashing around above her. Shouts and wails filled the air as one by one the monsters fell to the ground, clawing at themselves frantically. They lurched and twitched against one another in agony.

What was left of her clothes at this point began to soak through as the body above her literally started to fall apart. Its flesh slipped down from its screaming face, melting and evaporating into ash up into the now blackened sky. All around the other creatures were experiencing a similar fate. Chunks of gore fell from their bodies only to seep into the ground itself. Bones turned to dust and sparkled in the chilling air. Organs and various other colored bodily fluids gushed out of open gashes and gaping holes. The appeared to be boiling alive.

She could only stare in horror as the bodies evaporated one by one, sizzling to a pulp and then disappearing into the night sky. The deathly stench seemed to rise into the air with them as the smell of grass filled her nose. The very existence of these creatures seemed to be fading away along with the sun's ever fading light. She looked on with a wide eyes gaze, eyes trailing after the mist up into the black abysmal sky.

Her eyes stared up blankly into the dark expanse as she slumped onto her back. Her blood pounded against her eardrums while she pulled air into her lungs with shaky gasps. A sense of relief washed over her and she sighed loudly. Her limbs were like lead alongside her body. Gravity was pulling her ever deeper as her eyes began to droop.

She had actually made it. She was alive. Whatever those things were they were gone now and she was safe. She was finally safe.

Her breathing slowed as she lay still. An ever present ache spread through her body now that she had finally relaxed. Every muscle felt torn inside her as a faint wetness seeped into her clothes. The tattered shreds of her dress clung to her chest, constricting her already shallow breathing. It was cold, damp, and everything felt unbelievably heavy.

Thick black clouds began swirling around up in the sky. The world was shifting above her as her mind fell into a haze. She stared stiffly skyward. A curious thought floated through her head. Was she really seeing what she thought she was? A large pink moon hung high in the sky, shining down from the heavens as an array of small green rocks floated around the larger body. It was almost as if the moon had an asteroid belt surrounding it. She hadn't seen a moon in so very long she was sure she was imagining things.

Heavy pants dragged their way through her system as a fresh wave of nausea hit her. She swallowed down the bile building in her throat with a groan. Her eyes clamped shut as she focused on her heavy body. It felt as if she were falling, sinking even farther into the ground and beyond.

She felt so tired. So very, very tired. Her heart slowed to a dull rhythm and she let out a soft sigh. Every fear slipped from her mind only to be replaced by silence. A sense of peace overcame her as her body relaxed against the edge of the sandy desert. Her body felt as if it were floating... yes, floating. Even the pain was slowly beginning to dissipate as her mind faded into darkness. There were no more thoughts. No more pain. No more anything.

A/N: This is just a short scene setting chapter, the others will include more characters and interactions.

ch.1 - ch.2 coming soon

#homestuck #karkat #fantroll #homestuck fanfiction #karkat fanfiction #fantroll x canon #tw for #blood #gore #guts #zombies

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ladylynse · 6 years

Text

Crossroads - a Gravity Falls/Over the Garden Wall crossover

Summary: Mabel and Dipper have dealt with a demon before, so when they wind up lost in the woods and are given two choices by a creepy kid with a lantern, they make sure to pick the third option—but every choice has consequences, even when you don’t play by the rules. (FF.net; AO3) Length: 7.5 K Rating: K+

For @paperhoodie, who drew a beautiful cover (deviantart) for this fic once it turned into a collaboration instead of a birthday present.

Mabel shrieked as she fell. It was just light enough for her to see Dipper skid to a halt in front of her, but she was already rolling over and kicking out, trying to free herself. Thorns cut into her skin, gripping her ankle and tightening as she tried to work the branch—vine—whatever—loose. The bramble kept tearing into her flesh, so she finally gave up fighting directly and settled for scooting backwards across the uneven ground. Her palms brushed something prickly and rough, and she flinched back. She didn’t need her hands caught in a similar trap. Because this was a trap. The flora seemed to have a mind of its own in this place.

Mabel felt Dipper’s arms wrap around her, even as tiny tendrils tried to curl around her fingertips. He managed to pull her free, finally snapping the bramble around her ankle in the process, and helped her to her feet. Mabel brushed some of the debris from her sweater, fingering its newest hole before deciding to ignore it.

She had about as easy a time with that as she did ignoring the blood that was seeping into her sock, the throbbing pain in her ankle, or the dull ache in her hands and knees where she’d hit the ground. But that would go away; she’d had to deal with worse than this before. The most important thing was finding some way out of these woods.

“Think you can walk?” asked Dipper.

Mabel put some weight on her foot and winced as pain shot up her leg, but she nodded. They didn’t have a choice. If she hadn’t lost her grappling hook after their tumble over that wall….

“We’ll find our way out of here,” Dipper said as if he were reading her thoughts. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d managed that, and it wouldn’t be the last. “This isn’t the worst place he could have trapped us.”

Mabel didn’t need to ask who her brother was referring to. She knew they were thinking the same thing. She picked a branch out of her hair before it decided to come alive and try to strangle her. “He shouldn’t have been able to do this. We erased him.” But they’d erased Grunkle Stan’s memories, too, and had been able to bring those back. What if they’d accidentally brought Bill back, too? What if that’s why he’d been able to get Waddles to run away? What if he’d led Waddles here, wherever here was, to get the two of them hopelessly lost on a recovery mission? They hadn’t even seen Waddles since coming into the woods

Bill Cipher shouldn’t be able to do any of this, not after how they’d left him.

“Maybe we just weakened him. Or maybe he’d made another deal, as a backup or something.” She could recognize Dipper’s grim tone; it was his ‘focused’ voice. “We can’t worry about that now. We have to find our way out of here.”

As if they knew how. These woods weren’t like the ones in Oregon, and Mabel was pretty sure they weren’t in California anymore. This place just felt wrong. It was like being trapped in Mabeland again once Dipper had exposed it for what it was, except that this place was more like a creepy nightmare than a place where everything appeared perfect at first glance.

She didn’t think Waddles was here anymore. She wasn’t even sure he ever had been; they hadn’t found any tracks. She and Dipper had stopped calling for him when they’d gotten the feeling that they weren’t alone, even though they hadn’t seen anything besides trees.

“Let’s see if we can find the path again,” she decided. ”Waddles is smart; he’ll have found his way home by now.” She wasn’t convinced they’d find the elusive trail, wasn’t sure they’d ever been on one, but they didn’t need one. They could carve their own path out of this place if they had to. They were the Mystery Twins. It was going to take more than a couple of acres of spooky woodland to stop them. “And we’ll be right behind him.”

“So you can fix your sweater?”

Mabel grinned, not surprised Dipper had noticed her dismay. “So I can fix my sweater,” she agreed happily. Bill Cipher’s associations hadn’t spoiled her love for her shooting star sweater, so she certainly wasn’t going to let something like this be the end of it. “And then put the finishing touches on my Summerween costume so it’ll be ready by the time we get there.” It felt good to have something like that to look forward to, and tomorrow’s trip back to Gravity Falls was bound to bring another adventure.

Dipper was looking forward to it, too, if not for the same reasons as Mabel. He’d rather have a long discussion with Fiddleford than prank Pacifica, but it would be good to see everyone either way. Dipper hummed his agreement and started forward, keeping his arm around her for support. She gratefully leaned on him. These woods…. Yeah. There was definitely something wrong with them. It was enough to remind her that they weren’t in Gravity Falls and weren’t yet surrounded with all their friends and allies. This place looked like a proper forest, and it smelled like one, and it had felt like one when she’d been introduced to the forest floor, but it didn’t sound like it should.

It was quieter here than she was used to. No birdsong. No crickets. No frogs. Just the odd howling of the wind, a faint swoosh of leaves, a creaking branch here and there, and a suspicious rustle in the underbrush that she’d call gnomes if she didn’t know better. It was gloomy, too, as if it were dusk fading to darkness when it should be closer to noon. Of course, most of these trees had dropped their leaves, as if it were autumn and not the middle of summer, so that wasn’t really surprising. It was just another clue that they weren’t in the real world anymore.

That didn’t mean this wasn’t real, of course. Just that it was a construct. Or another dimension. Or both.

It seemed to be getting darker as they moved deeper into the woods, and she couldn’t tell if that was because the trees were getting thicker or because that much time was passing. She really had no idea how long they had been gone. If they had actually ended up in the same place as Waddles, he could’ve led them out of here. Waddles was a good pig like that. A lot smarter than most people thought. She almost wished he were here, except she didn’t want him to be in danger.

The dangers in this place might not be easy to see, but she knew they were there. She trusted her instincts. It was more than just the trees, whatever the trees were. If this place was real, then it didn’t follow the rules she knew to be true, which probably meant she couldn’t trust her eyes or, really, any of her other senses. And if it wasn’t real…. Well, if it wasn’t, then she really couldn’t trust anything to be what it seemed, not when it could be whatever Bill wanted it to be. She’d have to depend on her gut.

“Dipper?”

“Yeah?”

“What if he set this up before? What if we just, I dunno, turned it on somehow? Triggered it? Made it come to life, even if he’s not here?”

“We’re not going to be stuck here.” Dipper sounded more confident than he was, and anyone who didn’t know him well might have actually believed him. “Look up ahead. Isn’t that a light?”

It did seem to be one, shining brighter than the moon and not dancing about like a will-o’-the-wisp. Still a trap, her mind whispered, but they didn’t have any choice, and Dipper was taking precautions. He adjusted their course so that they angled toward the light from the left instead of coming at it directly; it was better to scout it out first if possible. Progress was slower than before, and not much quieter even though they were being careful, but at least the trees weren’t trying to grab them now. Whatever that had been, it seemed to be over.

That, or the trees—or whatever sentience was behind them—were just biding their time and waiting for them to make a mistake. Or they’d been deliberately herded here. She wasn’t going to rule out anything at the moment.

It took a good ten minutes longer than Mabel had expected, but finally the forest thinned and spilled out onto the shore of an endless expanse of black water. A lake, maybe, since it looked as still as glass. It reflected a perfect twin of the true source of the light, a lantern hung on a pole held by a boy in a funny red hat. He looked a bit like a giant gnome, actually, just minus the beard, especially in that old-fashioned cloak of his. He had been resting on the gunwale of a wooden rowboat pulled up on shore, but when they approached, he straightened, standing taller than either of them.

He didn’t seem surprised to see them.

Still, he was the first person they’d seen in forever, and he was kinda cute. Even as Dipper tensed, Mabel got straight to the point. “Can you point us to the nearest road?”

“This is the closest you’ll come to a crossroads here,” the boy said. “This is the In-Between.”

“In between what?” Mabel asked, still trying to figure out when the inevitable trap was going to be sprung.

The boy shifted, turning to look just at her instead of both of them, and she shivered as his gaze pierced through her. Scratch cute. Something about him—like everything else—was wrong, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it immediately. His stare was cold. Dead, almost, if it weren’t for that intense focus. There might as well have been demon eyes staring out at her from his face. Not Bill’s eyes, but…something else’s. Someone else’s. Which definitely wasn’t impossible because Bill definitely had friends, or at least interdimensional creatures that he pretended were friends so he could attempt to manipulate them.

The boy’s answer didn’t convince Mabel he wasn’t possessed or completely composed of magic or dream dust stuff in the first place. “You stand at the edge of the Unknown.”

A glance told Mabel that Dipper wasn’t getting this, either, and he was the smarter of the two of them. She hoped he’d figure something out sooner rather than later. She gave the boy a brilliant smile, letting the lamplight catch on and reflect off her braces. “So how about you tell us how to get back to the Known, handsome?”

Her charms had no apparent effect. “That is a choice only you can make.”

Mabel frowned; that answer didn’t make any sense to her. She turned back to Dipper, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Something about this guy stinks. Is he even real?”

Dipper didn’t answer her, which probably meant he hadn’t figured that out yet. “What are the options?”

One of the options had to be the boat, which had definitely seen better days. It didn’t look like it could fit three of them. She wasn’t even sure it would hold one without sinking. They shouldn’t need to cross this lake since they’d never crossed one in the first place, but if this was one of Bill’s traps, then they were less likely to die if they played along until figuring out the best way to bust out of here.

She concentrated on the boat for a few long seconds, imagining it sprouting a mast and sail and everything else, but absolutely nothing changed. Wherever they were, imagining things didn’t make them real. That wouldn’t make escaping any easier, but it had been worth a shot.

The boy’s head swivelled towards Dipper. “You can cross,” he said, gesturing with his free hand to the lake behind him, “or you can stay.”

Mabel had a feeling they weren’t going to be picking either of those options. Dipper liked to figure out what the rules were and then break them; she saw no problem with that, even though she was just as happy to charge in without a plan. Still, Dipper continued the conversation as if they were perfectly content to play along. As if they’d never been tricked by a demon before. “Why would we cross if we’re trying to get home? We didn’t come from that direction.”

“Are you sure?” There was amusement in the boy’s voice this time, a sort of dark gloating as if he were confident that he knew far more than they. “You’ve lost the path and lost your way, and the forest is not kind.”

“This is the first time we’ve seen the lake,” Mabel interjected.

“Is it really?” The boy’s head cocked to one side as he asked, and suddenly Mabel doubted herself, doubted Dipper. What if they’d gotten turned around at one point? They could have walked along the lake’s shore before and not realized it was there. The trees were thick, and with no wind, there was no sound of lapping water.

Except.

Except she could still hear the wind, moaning through groaning trees and skittering about loose leaves, and she could see it catching the boy’s cloak as readily as it caught her own hair, and she could feel the cold biting in gusts through her sweater.

But the lake was still.

She took a step back, only remembering her injured ankle as pain spiked upwards to her knee. “Dipper—”

“I know.” Dipper hadn’t kept step with her, but he let her go and she watched as his hands balled into fists. He felt this, too. It wasn’t just her. And after helping her along, he knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun this guy if it came to that.

“Look, whoever you are,” Dipper said to the boy, “if you’re not going to help us, what are you doing? Trying to stall us?”

Mabel hadn’t been expecting an answer, but the boy’s face split into a too-wide grin. “I keep watch for lost souls,” he said. “Keep the lantern lit. Guard the woods. Help you to cross, if that’s your deci—”

Dipper’s fist caught the boy on the corner of his jaw. The boy’s head snapped sideways and he stumbled back, one of his flailing arms catching the lantern pole as he fell into the boat and cracked his head on the side. Mabel lunged forward to catch the falling lantern before it hit the water; it was almost completely dark out now, and clouding over to boot, so the lantern was their best source of light. She climbed carefully to her feet, not wanting to put so much as a toe in that water, and turned back to Dipper, who was cradling his left hand.

“I forgot how much this hurts,” he hissed, wincing as he straightened his fingers. “I think I might’ve broken something.” He didn’t mean that, though; she could see him wriggling his fingers, and this wasn’t Dipper’s first time in a fistfight anyway. It probably wouldn’t be his last.

Sure enough, Dipper’s arm snaked around to support her a second later. “C’mon, we need to go. Can you keep hold of the light or do you want me to carry it?”

Mabel shrugged him off, lifting the lantern higher to get a better look at the boy who was sprawled across two seats and a pair of oars. “He’s out cold,” she said. “We don’t need to run away before we have answers.”

“Mabel—”

“It’s not like we’d make it far with the lantern, anyway. He could follow the light. But look at him, Dip. He looks young. Like us. What’s to say he isn’t human, too?”

“I don’t know, maybe the way he was acting? Or talking? Or the fact that he’s here in the first place?” Dipper threw up his hands. “What’s it matter? You even said you didn’t think he was real!”

“That was before you caught him by surprise, and between you and the boat, you knocked him out. Demons aren’t that easy to take down, and neither are their creations.” She waited a few seconds to see if the boy would move. He didn’t. “I don’t think he’s faking. He hit his head pretty hard on the boat.”

Dipper didn’t look convinced. “He isn’t real.”

“But what if he is? What if he’s just trapped here? Like we are? Do you really want to leave him here?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Mabel, none of this is real. Why would he be?”

“He’s here, and no one else seems to be.” Dipper opened his mouth, but Mabel cut him off. “That alone would raise flags, so why not create a more welcoming situation if you were trying to trap someone? He didn’t exactly lull either of us into a false sense of security.” Unless that’s what this is, her mind whispered, but she ignored it. This was one of the times it was better to follow your heart than your head. If they could help, she didn’t want to just leave someone here. “And even if he was possessed earlier, he might not be now. Limitations of the human body, remember?”

“I got possessed one time!”

“You made a mistake. Maybe he did, too.” She pointed at his hat, which had landed at their feet. “Grab that for me, will you?”

Dipper frowned but did so, handing it to her. Mabel inspected it for a moment, noting its fraying hem and other imperfections she wouldn’t expect to see from a mere fabrication. Bill hadn’t given everyone in Mabeland flaws, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t just because it was meant to be perfect. He hadn’t spent enough time in their world to know the little sorts of details to look for when it came to making stuff real.

But this? This was real. She was confident in that. Bill’s hat and tie had been more illusion than reality, altering or regenerating as necessary. They hadn’t ever shown wear. But this had character, had a story behind it…a story that might only be known to the boy who had been wearing it.

“This is missing its outer trim,” she said quietly. “You can see where someone’s been at it with scissors. It might be an old Santa hat.” She looked back at Dipper. “It’s definitely not the quality I’d expect from someone like him.” Dipper would know who she meant; that was one of the reasons he was so eager to get out of here. And she understood that, she did, but she also trusted her gut. “I don’t think this guy’s our enemy, bro-bro. I think he’s in the same boat as us. And he might have more answers than we do.”

Dipper stared at her, but he knew when she’d made up her mind. He also knew how often he was actually successful in changing it. “I’m not getting in that boat,” Dipper muttered finally, but he reached over to shake the boy awake.

The boy groaned as Dipper’s prodding pulled him back to reality. His eyes opened, quickly closed, and then slowly blinked open again. A trace of confusion crossed his features before he pushed himself upwards with a muttered curse, one hand tentatively touching the back of his head and his jaw in turn. He looked at the two of them with suspicion—not unexpected, given where they were. Wherever this was. “Where’s Greg?” he asked, his voice sounding more natural this time, less…less demon-y. No gloating smugness or vague threats, just sincere concern, a healthy helping of wariness, and a touch of fear. “Who are you guys? And where….” His voice trailed off, and his eyes grew wide.

Mabel noticed he was staring at the lantern she held. The blood had drained from his face and he swayed where he sat, rocking the boat. Dipper reached out to steady him, and the boy flinched away, regaining some of his composure even though he still looked like a ghost.

“I’m Mabel,” she said, taking pity on him. “That’s Dipper. We were looking for Waddles. He’s my pig. I’m guessing you haven’t seen him.”

“I’m Wirt,” the boy whispered. He was still fixated on the light. “Where did you get that lantern?”

“From you.” She held out his hat. “This is yours, too.”

Another flash of fear. She wondered if the hat itself was somehow tied to whatever had been possessing him, but he climbed out of the boat with Dipper’s help and took the hat back. He clutched it tightly in one hand and opened his cloak with the other, staring at his clothes with growing confusion. “This is my Halloween costume.”

He hadn’t spoken loudly enough to be directing that comment at them, but Mabel flashed him another smile as if he had. “You mean Summerween costume. Halloween was ages ago, but Summerween’s next week!”

Dipper caught her eye and shook his head. Mabel stuck her tongue out at him in return. Dipper, of all people, shouldn’t point fingers when it came to accidentally agreeing to demonic possession. The boy—Wirt—probably hadn’t realized what he was doing. Sure, she didn’t have solid proof that he’d been possessed, but it seemed like a pretty good guess, and the fact that Dipper wasn’t grabbing her and trying to run meant that he thought so, too, and was willing to give the boy a bit of rope. He’d have a chance to prove he was the human boy he seemed to be, and they’d watch to see if the demon—if he was still a demon, which was undoubtedly Dipper’s view even if it wasn’t hers—accidentally hanged himself in the meantime.

Still, as far as she could tell, whatever demon had been possessing Wirt had been forced back into the astral plane, and his real spirit had taken the opportunity to reclaim his body. The apparent amnesia was new, admittedly, but it wasn’t a stretch to think that the effects of demonic possession differed depending on which demon was actually doing the possessing.

Or maybe the demon had just been controlling him and not full-out possessing him? Just planting suggestions or using him more like a marionette than a sock puppet? That might explain the amnesia. She’d have to ask Dipper when this was over. She didn’t want to scare the poor boy off when he’d just regained his senses.

Wirt looked between the two of them before turning in a slow circle, even though he wouldn’t be able to see much beyond the circle of light cast by the lantern. “Is Greg still here? What about Beatrice?”

“You’re the first person we’ve seen,” Dipper said. “And I know you must be worried about Greg and Beatrice, but this is important. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I’d promised to take Greg for ice cream,” Wirt said slowly, “so we went, and then we ran into Sara and….” He shrugged helplessly, spreading his hands. “I put my foot in my mouth, I guess, but she was really nice about it, and…. I dunno. She was going to come back to our place. To listen to some music. It’s a thing we do.”

“But this was on Halloween?” Dipper prompted.

Wirt started to shake his head, winced, and said, “No, it’s summer.” He looked out at the bare trees, at the leaves rustling on the ground, and shuddered as the wind curled its icy fingers around him. “It’s supposed to be summer.” He shoved the hat back onto his head. “Halloween was months ago. It’s supposed to be over.”

Dipper’s eyes narrowed. “What’s supposed to be over? Did you run into anyone—anything—strange on Halloween? Did you make any deals?”

“I don’t….” Wirt wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “This doesn’t matter. I can’t stay here. I need to find Greg. I’m responsible for him.”

Dipper caught his arm as he started to move away. “Did you make any deals?” he repeated. “Anything that might be taken as a deal?”

“Or would anyone have made one on your behalf?” Mabel added. “That could’ve happened if you ever told someone they could make a decision for you.”

Wirt just stared at them, so Dipper released him in favour of pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look,” he said, “I know this sounds crazy, but demons are real. And Mabel and I, we think that’s why you’re here. You must have made a deal with one because you weren’t yourself when we came across you. You were—”

“You were all spooky,” Mabel interrupted. “Smiling too wide, saying vague, menacing things. All ‘this is the In-Between’ and ‘you stand at the edge of the Unknown’ as if that explains anything.”

From the look on Wirt’s face, he didn’t appreciate her accompanying hand gestures and facial expressions. But the names also sounded familiar to him, unless she’d misjudged that flicker of recognition in his eye.

Dipper hadn’t missed it, either. “Does that make sense to you?”

“I can’t be back here,” Wirt said. “I can’t still be here. You were talking about deals, right? The Beast offered me one, but I didn’t take it. Greg…. Look. You’ve got to understand. He was turning into Edelwood. The forest was consuming his soul or claiming it or something like that, so the Beast offered to take his soul and put it in the lantern instead. Then, as long as I kept it lit, Greg wouldn’t be gone. I mean, for a second, I was tempted, but then I thought about it, and that’s dumb, isn’t it? To wander around these woods forever, trying to keep a lantern lit? So no. I didn’t take the deal. Beatrice and I freed Greg, I gave Beatrice the scissors she needed, and Greg and I got out of there. Out of here.”

“Wait, Greg’s your brother, right? So who’s Beatrice? Why did she need scissors if you were stuck in the woods? Or were they a special pair of scissors? And what’s Edelwood? And—”

“What do you mean by the Beast?” Dipper cut in, overriding Mabel’s questions.

“Just…the Beast.” Wirt spread his hands, as if the name explained everything. “I think he’s the one who turns people—lost souls—into trees. Into Edelwood. So their oil can keep the lantern lit. But he’s gone. It was his soul in the lantern all along. When I figured that out, the Woodsman blew it out.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper asked. “It’s usually not that easy to get rid of a demon.”

Wirt crossed his arms. “We got the one out of Lorna easily enough once we realized. Who are you two, anyway? Why are you such an authority on demons?”

“We saved the world by stopping Weirdmageddon,” Mabel said, enjoying as confusion settled back onto Wirt’s face. “Not just us, of course. We had help, and Grunkle Stan was the real hero. But believe me, if that triangle had gotten his way, somewhere like this—” she waved her free hand at their surroundings “—would be downright normal.”

“We think he’s behind us being here,” added Dipper. “Maybe he got to you, too, if it wasn’t this Beast you mentioned.” He frowned. “You said lost souls were turned into this Edelwood, right? So they were consumed by the forest to feed the Beast? Did you offer to switch places with Greg once you realized what was happening to him?”

“No,” Wirt said, sounding as if that was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard, “I just tried to pull him free.”

Mabel looked at Dipper and realized what he was thinking. “But Greg is your brother.” Wirt hadn’t denied that assumption, at least. “So what if…what if he found you turning into a tree and couldn’t free you? What if he offered to switch places with you? What if that’s why he was in that position in the first place?”

“Freeing him would have broken the terms of the deal he’d made, rendering it null,” Dipper agreed. “That could be why you’re here.”

“That’s crazy,” Wirt said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Greg just ran off.”

“Are you sure? Even if he woke up and saw you being turned into kindling?” Mabel looked over at Dipper; she was speaking to him as much as she was to Wirt. “I’d offer to trade places if it were my brother and it was the only way to free him. And Grunkle Stan offered to trade places with Grunkle Ford, even knowing what that would mean. And Dipper and I, we’re….” This time, she wasn’t shivering because of the wind. “The demon we think trapped us here. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. But we tried to save Grunkle Stan, to bring his memories back, so maybe we brought back a piece of Bill Cipher, too.”

It was the first time she’d spoken his name since coming here, and she half-expected him to appear, but the world seemed empty but for the three of them.

Wirt was the one to break the stretching silence. He took the lantern back from Mabel. “I never made any deals, and I don’t know anything about some Bill Cipher, but if everything that I remember happening since Halloween is a lie, I need to find Greg. I need to—” His voice hitched. “I need to make sure he’s safe.”

That he’s not a tree. That’s what Wirt meant. But pointing it out wouldn’t make him feel any better. “So do you know where we are?”

Wirt hesitated. “Not exactly. I don’t remember being in this part of the woods. But I’m more likely to recognize a landmark than you are.”

“What landmark?” Dipper muttered as he walked back to Mabel. He offered her the abandoned lantern pole to use as a walking stick, and she took it, deciding she couldn’t afford to be picky until she could run again.

“Another cursed body of water, maybe,” Mabel said under her breath, taking one last glance at the black lake.

Dipper huffed in reply. She knew he didn’t like this situation. He didn’t trust Wirt. He definitely didn’t trust that Bill wasn’t behind this or that whatever demon had been possessing Wirt was actually gone.

Wirt held the lantern high overhead, and they stayed just within its light. Dipper started mumbling to himself within minutes, and after a while, Mabel asked him what he was going on about. “If we’re right,” he said in a low voice, “about his brother making a deal, then shouldn’t he be a tree right now?”

“He told us what he knows,” Mabel pointed out, “not necessarily what’s actually the truth. Maybe he’s more useful to the demon this way. Maybe he’s supposed to get us hopelessly lost so we turn into trees, and then he’ll go back to waiting for someone to show up. He might not even realize he’s doing this, though. Maybe he flips back and forth every time people show up, just so he can show a side to them that they’ll trust.”

Dipper groaned. “I don’t want to think about him having a standing invitation to be possessed, but you could be right. If there’s really oil in that lantern, someone must have filled it recently.”

They had two obvious options: stay with Wirt or make a break for it. Mabel grimaced, not liking either one, and whispered, “Do you think this Beast is the one possessing him? Do you think he’s the one in the lantern now?”

“The lantern was lit before, and it never went out,” countered Dipper. “If the whole thing about keeping souls in it is true, it’s not necessarily the demon’s soul in there.”

“His brother’s? Or that other person’s?”

“Beatrice,” Dipper supplied absently. “Or his, if this is all just an act.”

“I don’t think it’s an act. He seems genuine.”

“Everyone does until you find out the truth.” Then, louder, Dipper called, “Are we just going to wander around in circles?”

Wirt stopped and rounded on them. “I’m not deaf, you know. I can hear you talking about me. I’m not possessed, okay? Whatever that was…. It’s over now.”

“How can you be sure about that if you thought you were living your life back in the material plane until we found you?”

Wirt stared at Dipper for a long moment before his shoulders slumped and he let his arm drop, shrinking their circle of light. “Everything had worked out,” he said softly. “Beatrice had the scissors she needed to change everyone back. The Beast was gone, and the Woodsman was free of his burden. And Greg and I were home. I mean, we were in the hospital at first, but we were back. And we lived our lives. How can none of that be real?”

“You can be shown what you want to see,” Mabel said quietly. “I know that better than anyone. Nice illusions make the best traps. If you think everything is fine, you’re never going to fight it. You’d never think to fight it.”

“And in the meantime,” Dipper continued, “you’re really here, acting as a puppet for the Beast and making sure lost children stay lost. And making sure the lantern keeps burning.”

The light trembled as Wirt’s hand shook. “So you think Greg’s gone.”

Mabel nudged Dipper and limped back into the circle of light. “We haven’t seen anyone else, remember? Your brother might really have made it home. Maybe he made it because you stayed here.” Seeing the look of dismay on Wirt’s face, Mabel added, “I don’t mean you need to keep staying here, silly! Just that you probably did help your brother get home. And if he knows you’re here, he’s probably doing everything in his power to get you back.” She smiled. “We can help with that.”

“How?”

Mabel didn’t actually know how. She was just confident they could help. If you didn’t believe you could do something, you’d never get it done. “Let’s just prove to you that your brother’s not a tree first,” she said instead, “so you stop worrying about that.”

Wirt frowned, maybe because she’d dodged his question. Rather than calling her on it, though, he admitted, “I’m not sure I can find the right spot. Not if it’s been months. And not…not if the lantern’s been burning all that time. His tree might have been cut down already.”

“You can’t think like that,” Mabel exclaimed. “You have to believe he’s fine and that you’ll get out of here.” Remembering what he’d said about this place, she added, “We’re not going to turn into trees, not if it’s only lost souls who do that. We’re not lost if we just haven’t gotten to where we’re going yet.”

“But I’m not even sure I know where I am!”

She grinned. “That’s what makes it fun. Like a game. First person to figure out where we are wins!”

“But you don’t—”

“Close your eyes,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Close your eyes and spin around. I’d do it, but my ankle still hurts. Close your eyes and spin around and when you stop, we’ll go in whichever direction you’re facing. Then it’ll be random, so Dipper can’t say you’re trying to lead us somewhere, and if you’re not sure which is the best way to be going anyway, we’re just as likely to be going in the right direction.”

Wirt just gaped at her, even as Dipper sighed and closed his eyes and began to spin. He flung out his arm as he stopped, pointing to her left. “Let’s go that way. I’ll lead.” He took the lantern in his right hand and struck out before Wirt could form a coherent protest.

“It’s best not to overthink things,” Mabel confided as she grabbed Wirt’s hand to pull him along, “especially when you’re up against a demon that likes mind games. I don’t think you need to worry about being controlled by the Beast anymore, though. If he could’ve controlled you again without any trouble, he would have done it already.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Now that he wasn’t possessed or being controlled or whatever anymore, Mabel liked being with Wirt. He reminded her a bit of Dipper, and the woods seemed less scary now that he was with them. They were less alone, and now they had someone else to fight for. She felt sorry that he’d been separated from his brother, but that just made her more determined to get them all out of here. They’d figure something out, just as soon as Wirt knew for certain that his brother was out there waiting for him to come back.

“I think there’s a cabin up ahead,” Dipper called after about fifteen minutes of ducking under branches and jumping fallen logs (or, in Mabel’s case, sliding over with Wirt’s help).

Wirt quickened his step at Dipper’s words and reclaimed the lantern, raising it high and striding forward so fast that Mabel had to scramble to keep up. “That’s the Woodsman’s house!”

The house looked abandoned, but Wirt didn’t stop to examine it. He was familiar with this part of the woods, skirting a river and heading past what might have once been a mill in favour of the trees on the other side of the clearing. Judging by how fast he was moving, he was close to where he’d seen Greg being turned into Edelwood. Mabel wasn’t really surprised when, less than five minutes later, Wirt came to an abrupt stop and dropped to his knees.

“There’s no tree here,” he said when Mabel and Dipper finally caught up to him.

“More importantly,” Dipper said as he knelt to run his hand over the ground, “there’s no sign of a stump, either. If this is the place, then you’re right. You freed your brother.” He got back to his feet and pulled Wirt up. “So now we just need to free you.”

Wirt bit his lip. “I still don’t think I made a deal with the Beast, but Greg…. On our last day, before he ran off, he was trying to be a leader. He was certain we’d get home. He hadn’t given up hope. But I had, even after the Woodsman had told me it was my responsibility to get us out of here. So maybe you’re right. Maybe the Beast had laid claim to me. And maybe Greg…. Maybe he did save me. Or try to.” He swallowed and looked at them. “So doesn’t that mean, if I’m here now, that I can’t leave without trading places with Greg again? He doesn’t deserve that. I’d rather stay.”

“You don’t need to. We’re getting you out of here,” Mabel promised. “Right, bro-bro?”

“Right.” Dipper started to pace, walking in a tight circle around them. “But unless the Beast shows himself, we can’t renegotiate the terms of your contract. And we can’t just break it without repercussions. Which means we need to find a loophole.”

“But I didn’t make a contract! I just…I just thought, for a little while, that we were lost for good.”

“Which is why you were. Because you gave up hope.” Mabel looked at Dipper to make sure she was right, and when he nodded, she continued, “But now you have something to fight for. You don’t have to guard the woods, keep watch for lost souls, or ferry people across to the far shore.”

Dipper stopped. “Keeping the lantern lit,” he said. “That was the other thing you said you did.”

Wirt shifted on his feet. “I really hope you’re wrong about that.”

“Your words, not ours. But we can work with that.” Dipper smiled. “You said you thought the Beast’s soul was tied to the lantern, right? And that the Woodsman had blown it out?”

“Yes, but—”

Dipper held up a finger. “If you were right all along, then that’s your loophole.”

Wirt blinked at him.

Mabel didn’t get it, either.

“Isn’t that when everything started shifting for you?” Dipper asked. “When you thought you’d finally managed to get home? Wasn’t it after you’d said that?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then that’s when it started. The Beast controlling you. Maybe he wasn’t really possessing you, but he wouldn’t need to be in you to control you if you already belonged to him. The moment you became a lost soul, you became his property. Think of it more like an implicit contract rather than a deliberate deal. And if you really had discovered his weakness and the Woodsman was willing to blow out the lantern, then the Beast would want to prevent that. That’s when you would’ve become more useful to him as a puppet than as a tree to be fed to the lantern.”

“Because if the Woodsman was willing to blow out the lantern,” Mabel realized, “then that means he knew the Beast had tricked him into keeping it lit. And the Beast needed someone to stop the Woodsman from blowing it out—or to light it again before it was too late—and then to keep the lantern trimmed and burning.”

“Clever, aren’t you?” The voice was coming from Wirt’s mouth, but it wasn’t entirely his anymore. “Pity cleverness won’t help you find your way home.”

Mabel jerked, but the events of the previous summer and her extracurricular activities since had quickened her reaction time. She swung the pole-turned-walking-stick at Wirt, hard, even as he moved toward Dipper. Toward the lantern.

Dipper had been standing between Wirt and the lantern, but he must have been expecting something like this because he had already dropped. Since Wirt had leapt forward to grapple Dipper, the pole swung high. Mabel took a step to try to keep her balance and crumpled when her ankle gave out.

Dipper’s hat was gone. Wirt was already on him, and as Mabel watched, Wirt grabbed a fistful of Dipper’s hair and yanked his head back. Away from the lantern. Dipper yelled and fought, trying to wriggle and wrestle his way out, but Wirt was stronger than he looked. At some point, Dipper had managed to open the door on the lantern, and now he simply seemed to be trying to free a hand to knock over the lantern before Wirt had secured his hold well enough to take it.

Which meant Dipper was being an excellent distraction, and she had time to get back on her feet and gain some leverage.

Wirt—not-Wirt—ignored her.

That was his mistake.

He must never have had to deal with siblings before, let alone twins. The real Wirt wouldn’t have made such a foolish mistake since had a brother. The real Wirt would have known better than to discount her. Because if she could take out Wirt from here, she didn’t need to expose herself by running for the lantern and just giving him a new target. They could try to wear him out by switching off, but it was much easier to just knock him out again, especially when she doubted she could run far.

Mabel steadied herself, hefted the pole, and aimed for his temple.

He ducked.

There was still a shriek and a sickening crack as the pole connected.

She dropped the pole and lurched forward as Dipper’s screams filled her ears. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle behind his back. Somehow, Wirt had anticipated her and wrenched Dipper’s arm from its socket, holding it up in the path of the pole, and then she’d…she’d….

Wirt was already reaching for the lantern.

Dipper had stopped struggling, curling in on himself in the pain. No. No one was allowed to hurt her brother like that. Mabel roared and flung herself forward, reaching out for the lantern. She just had to beat Wirt to it. She couldn’t let him get it back, not after what he had done. Whatever demon possessed him, controlled him, whatever— She wasn’t about to let it win. She couldn’t.

Her fingers hit hot glass a second before his could clasp the lantern’s handle.

The lantern tipped.

Rolled.

Lay open just as another gust of wind blew through the clearing.

The light inside flared

And then it went out.

Part II: How much do you dare trust something that might not even be real?

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