#dimension where said band never existed so they try to start up their own thing and end up getting really popular in one small canadian town

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 5

A/N: Hello lovelies! This one will feature a special guest! This is probably a stupid idea and I’ll probably regret it in the morning but oh well.

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

It was quiet when you had finished your story, too quiet. You had stared at your hands the whole time you explained everything, a part of you afraid to look at their faces, as if they would look at you different, less human. You left out the details because of limited time, occasionally stopping to discretely wipe away the tears that threatened to spill. Sam had sat next to you through the whole thing with his hand on your back as he rubbed circles. And though Sam had known about your past, he didn’t know about the recent events involving Ares and Thanos. He was heartbroken to hear you had lost everyone and everything you held dear, and wished you didn’t had to suffer through it all on your own. Finally gaining the courage to lift your head, you stared at the expressions of the men around you. Bucky and Zemo were still in shock, their brains trying to process the words that came out of your mouth, while Sam had the expression of sorrow.

“You guys are welcome to ask me questions....if you have any.” You brought up, rubbing your hands together.

“So basically...you’re a Greek god.” Bucky leaned back on your couch, his brows knitted together. “So Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hercules, Medusa, and all those stories, they’re real?”

“Pretty much. Some stories may be a bit distorted and inaccurate, but yes. They were all real. They were my family and friends, they were my people.”

“Wait so how old are you?” Bucky inquired this time, curious to know your age.

“Gods, I’d say around 23,000.”

“Wait, 23,000?” Bucky raised his brows as him and Zemo both looked at you in utter disbelief. They were astonished to say the least and dare say, even eager to hear your stories about the things you have seen in your lifetime.

“How?”

“Time works differently for us.”

“What about your daughter?” You heard Zemo speak for the first time today, making you look at him. “How old is she?”

“About 6 months. I had her after Thanos was defeated.”

“6 months? But how? Who’s her father?”

“Bucky, that was way out of line.” Sam shook his head at him, giving him a glare.

Bucky went pale as he realized what he had said just now, trying to apologize but you shrugged it off with a motion of your hand.

“No it’s fine Sam, he has every right to ask. It’s alright Bucky, I get that you’re only trying to understand everything. You see, there was no father, which explains why she’s 6 months old in the first place. To be honest, after Thanos was defeated, I was in a really bad state, I had lost so many people, I had lost my entire planet and my family. And after Nat being gone I just, I didn’t know what to do anymore. But I remembered, my brother Hephaestus gave me one last favor in his dying breath. The chance to create. So I sculpted her out of clay, in the image of my dear older sister Athena and brought her to life. I was only able to do it once. She was my only chance and she means the whole world to me.”

“So you sculpted her out of clay?”

“Yes.”

“And brought her to life?”

“Yes.”

There was more silence as they tried to take in the fact that you had sculpted a child, your own daughter Athena from clay using your own hands, and bringing her to life afterwards. It was almost beyond comprehension.

“And here I thought Thor was the only mythology one.” Bucky shook his head.

“Well, now that you know the truth, I think it’s time we get ready.” You stood up from the sofa.

“We?” Same eyed you. “What do you mean we?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are.” Sam stood up next to you with his arms crossed. “I’m sorry y/n but you are NOT coming with us. It’s dangerous.”

“Sam, when have you known me to back away from danger?”

“......Never, because you’re stubborn and stupid.”

“Quite the contrary actually, stubborn yes, stupid no. You know I can’t let you go there on your own.”

“We’re grown men y/n. I’m pretty sure we can handle ourselves.”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time I was absent? Look Sam, I’m not going to stand by while you guys get hurt and possibly risk your lives. I on the other hand, can handle much worse and have handled much worse, I’m practically bulletproof.”

“Bulletproof or not.” Sam interrupted. “You have a daughter.”

“You don’t think I know that? I’ve already taken the extra precautions Sam.”

“What extra precautions?”

“I put a protective spell not only on her but on my home and land as well. No one is coming in without my permission, they’ll just get fried or blasted away or something like that if they touch the barrier. Trust me, I’m not going to let anything happen to her Sam. And besides, I’m going to hire a babysitter.”

Sam stared at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the option. “You’d still follow us even if I were to say no huh.”

“Yup. Or I could do a mind spell. It’s your choice. But you know I’d rather do this the easy way.”

Sam let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Well since you’re not going to budge anytime soon-“

“Great. I’ll go pack my bags.”

“Wait just a minute. Just because you get to tag along doesn’t mean you get to ignore the rules....” Sam trailed off as you hurried up the stairs.

You heard him mutter something along the lines of how you’ll probably end up turning everyone into toads by the end of the day, as you went into your room to pack some of your things. You had thrown on an old band shirt of yours and a pair of jeans, lacing up your docs before grabbing a jacket. You went into Athena’s room and saw that she had just awakened, sitting on her bed and staring at you with confusion as she saw the bag in your hand.

“Hey koukouvágia.” You set the bag down and kneeled down next to her.

“Where are you going mommy?”

“Mommy has some important work to do with Uncle Sam and Bucky.” You held her hands in yours as you gave them a light squeeze.

“Are you going to kick bad guy butts?”

“Something like that.” You chuckled as you brushed her hair from her face.

“When are you coming back?”

You sighed, looking to the floor before looking up at her again. “I don’t know yet sweetie. But I promise I won’t be long. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going to have Auntie Maze take care of you while I’m gone.”

“Auntie Maze?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yes. I know you two are best friends.”

“Yay!” She giggled before hugging you, her arms wrapped your neck. “Good luck mommy.”

“Thanks sweetie.”

The whole time Sam had stood by Athena’s door, watching you two say goodbye.

“Uncle Sam!” Athena squealed once she saw him, running up to hug his leg.

“Hey kiddo. I promise I’ll take care of your mother and bring her back.”

“I know.” She looked up at him with a big grin before going over to hug you again. “Bye mommy.”

“I’ll see you soon koukouvágia. I love you so much.” You hugged her close to you, pressing your lips at the side of her head before holding her out in front of you. “You remember to behave yourself okay.”

“I will mommy.”

“And gods forbid, if anything happens or if you feel scared, all you have to do is call for me in here.” You pressed your index and middle finger against her temple, implying the telepathic connection you had. “And I will be there in the blink of an eye.”

“I know you will mommy.” She smiled before hugging you again. “You’re always there for me.”

You held back your tears as you kissed her forehead, holding her delicately as if you were afraid you’d come back and she would be gone just like the rest of your family and people. And all that would be left is her room and a memory, a reminder of her existence.

Athena had walked downstairs with you, saying goodbye to everyone as she hugged their legs, trying to put on a brave face which only broke your heart. But you knew she was stronger and smarter than she looked. After your final farewell to your daughter and your cat, you locked up your home. Sam, Bucky, and Zemo followed you as you led them out of your invisible barrier. Before you reached the edge you turned back, seeing your daughter wave at you from the window with Maleficent in her arms. You smiled, praying it wouldn’t be the last time you saw her as you blew her a kiss before stepping out of your barrier as it rippled around you. Once you were all outside the barrier you turned back again, but this time your home was no longer visible and all that could be seen was empty land. It terrified you to see your plot of land this way, but you knew it was still there, just behind your invisible barrier, and you knew your daughter would still be waiting for you.

“If you guys don’t mind.” You announced as you turned to the three men. “I need to stop by a place real quick and pick up Athena’s babysitter.”

“Is that who Auntie Maze is?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s go then.” Sam started to head towards his car but you stopped him.

“Ummm she’s not here Sam.” You pursed your lips, scared to tell him where you were actually planning on going.

“Okay, is she in the next town?”

“No. I meant she’s not here, as in this planet this dimension not here.”

“Wait what?” Bucky turned to you as Zemo looked at you with confusion written on his face. Are you implying what they think you were implying?

“I need to go to another dimension.” You explained further, turning around before they would ask any more questions. Closing your eyes, you stretched your arm out and twirled your wrist in a circular motion. The men watched in confusion, wondering what you were doing.

A strong gust of wind suddenly pushed through, and in the center of your focus a small black circular object was forming, growing bigger and bigger until people could walk through it. A violet glow illuminated your features. You opened your eyes back up, your eyes glowing the same color of the mesmerizing violet vortex before you. The portal sparked and flickered to life, crackling like electricity.

“Follow me.” You turned to the men before stepping into the portal and vanishing into it.

“Y/n!” Sam stared at where you were just stood, swallowing the lump in his throat as he was unsure whether he should just follow you.

Bucky straightened up, chills running down his spine as the men stared at the unknown territory in front of them, they didn’t have a clue on what would be waiting for them on the other side.

They stepped back as they saw your head poke out of the black center of the portal, a stern expression sat on your face. “Well you guys coming or not? I haven’t got all day. If you don’t hurry up this portal will close and you don’t want to be caught halfway in it.” You popped back in and the men stared at each other, Zemo was the first to walk in before the others followed.

When they stepped through, day was replaced with night and the portal closed behind them while they found you standing up front.

“About time.” You teased, “I thought I might have to go back and pick up a limb you left behind.”

“Not funny.” Sam glared at you.

As the men looked around at their surroundings they found themselves to be in what looked like to be...Los Angeles?

“This is LA.” Sam gave you a disappointed look.

“No. This is different.” Zemo observed as Sam and Bucky looked at him.

“What do you mean different?” Bucky asked, not sure if Zemo was playing games.

“Well I’m pretty sure that building up ahead does not exist in our Los Angeles.” Zemo pointed to the tall white building that was lit up against the night sky.

You nodded your head at Zemo’s observation before heading towards the building and towards the nightclub entrance that had a lit up sign that said Lux. Bucky, Sam, and Zemo glanced at each other as they saw you cut the long line of people waiting by the entrance.

“What the hell? Is y/n a mob boss now?” Bucky uttered as he saw you whisper something to the security at the door before taking off your jacket slightly, pulling up your shirt sleeve to show him something on your arm. The security nodded his head, allowing you to go in. You turned to Sam, Bucky, and Zemo and waved them over.

“What the hell is going on y/n?” Sam muttered to himself as they followed you in.

The fancy dark interior of the place was lit up with dim lights and crowded with drunk men and scantily clad women dancing to the loud beat of the music. You stuck out from the rest with your Pink Floyd shirt, your jeans, and your corduroy jacket and doc martens as you searched the crowd for a particular someone.

“Y/n what the hell are we doing here? This isn’t exactly your crowd!” Sam leaned over, raising his voice against the music so you could hear him.

“I know!” You replied as your eyes finally found the person you were looking for. You headed towards the lit up bar, cursing under your breath as you weaved through the sweaty grinding bodies and the couples heavily making out in public. You felt your anxiety creep up on you and you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. After having to escape your way out of what felt like the hedge maze from The Shining, you finally approached the bar, walking up to the tall dark haired man near the counter wearing an expensive suit. You could smell his strong, almost obnoxious cologne from where you were standing. You straightened up and cleared your throat, eyeing the back of the man’s head.

“Hello Lucifer.”

Tag List: @Little-baby-vixen @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fic #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #zemo imagine #zemo fanfic #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #zemo x reader

[ask-chaos-kin]

Slender Freaks Ch.1

Fortress Beyond Our Belief

“Keep going! We’re almost there!” A girl cried, shoving her brother forward through the leaden halls. 

“We’re not going to make it!” The boy shouted, jumping as a creature tried to snag at his heels.

“We will make it! Just keep going!” The girl gasped, fighting to stay ahead of the monster that chased them down through the corridors. She and her brother turned a sharp corner, and they both gasped in shock. “There! There’s the exit! Come on, we’re so close!”

“We might make it! We actually might escape this!” The brother chuckled as the two rushed towards a portal upon a mighty altar.  

But as they advanced, the altar began to grow faded and blurry, and a distinct ringing noise filled the ears of the two would be escapees. They skidded to a halt and backed away from the altar in terror as a tall, slender figure emerged from the static surrounding the portal. He bore no face, and wore a black suit with a red tie. His skin was as pale as death, and shadows gathered at his back. 

“Slenderman!” The two runaways gasped, recoiling away from the imposing figure. But stepping back, the two were aggressively reminded of their pursuer. A shriek made them turn on their heels, and the color drained from their faces at the realization that they were caught between two of the most infamous monsters in this nightmarish world; The Rake, and the feared Slenderman.

“Oh shit,” The brother swore, frantically looking around for an escape. “There goes our chance.”

The sister looked past her brother and saw an open vent shaft in the wall. With their escape attempt thwarted again, their only recourse left was to get out of the monster’s territory, and that shaft would at the very least give them reprieve from Slenderman and the Rake.

“Come on, we can try again later!” The sister shouted, shoving her brother towards the vent, sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them as the Rake barreled towards them. 

The two soon to be escapees managed to climb into the vents just in the nick of time to avoid the emaciated monster behind them, and the sister pulled the vent covering up to hold it off from following them. 

“Move! Move! This thing won't hold for very long!” She barked, pushing her brother through the shaft until the two of them were out of sight from the monsters.

However, as they fled, they deprived themselves of bearing witness to a truly inhuman display, even for a monster as infamous as the Slenderman. The tall figure watched the escapees flee, and stared blankly as the Rake gave up its mindless chase and stalked away from the vent. Slenderman tilted his head to the emaciated monster, as if to ask it a question, but the infamous creature just continued on its way.

Slenderman glowered for but a moment, then turned his attention to the portal the two siblings had attempted to escape from. A portal out of this nightmarish realm and out into the real world.

Slenderman extended a pale hand out to the portal. What a strange realm, this world was. Monsters like and unlike himself roamed, but not freely and not without consequence. This was not a world of hunting and surviving. It was organized and relatively stable. There were so many people out in this world, people who were fully unaware of this realm's existence. People who would make the perfect victims of this neverending nightmare.

Extending his tendrils into the portal, Slenderman altered the state of this rift between realms. He forced open tears into the real world, opening up the promise of more victims to hunt. Who would be the first to fall victim to these portals? Who would be the first of the unfortunate souls to be trapped here? Who would join the hordes of runaways in their futile attempts to escape this dangerous game?

***

“One paddle, paddle, paddle, two paddle, paddle, paddle…” Spyper yawned listlessly, watching as the ball repeatedly hit the paddleboard. He was lounged back lazily on a couch, sitting across from Intelligent Heavy as he deconstructed an N64 console that Jester had given them. 

The two Freaks were four months into their house arrest, only a few days away from finally being let off the hook. Both Freaks wore heavy bands around their ankles, anchors to keep them inside at all times that would alert HECU if either of them so much as stepped foot out the door.

“I’m bored,” Spyper sighed heavily, finally letting his paddle streak end as his arms fell to his sides. “I never knew how boring it could be just staying home, but now I do, and I want it to be over!”

“It’ll be over in a few days,” Intelligent assured, smiling at his friend.

“Why can’t it be over now?” Spyper groaned, slouching further into the sofa. He sighed and slid off the couch. “I’m getting a drink.”

“Bring me the leftover pizza while you’re in there,” Intelligent called. Spyper nodded and gave the Heavy a thumbs up as he headed for the kitchen.

A knock at the door suddenly drew the attention of the two Freaks. Intelligent set aside the dismantled N64 and headed for the door. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s us!” Jester's cheery voice called out. “We brought cake!”

“They dragged me along since I really had nothing better to do,” Pancakes called out.

Intelligent opened the door to see Jester, Pancakes, and Chaos standing at the door. He smiled and let the three inside.

“So, how’s house arrest working for ya guys?” Jester asked, setting the cake they were carrying on a nearby table.

Spyper let out a loud groan and hung his head back.

“That bad?” Chaos questioned as she walked into the kitchen.

“I got lucky. I mean, it sucked being restricted to my can in RED Spawn for a month. But on the bright side, Painis doesn’t really bother with the can unless meals are scarce.” Pancakes stretched.

“Hey, at least you guys are off the hook in a few days, right?” Jester asked, hacking off a slice of the cake and handing it to Intelligent.

“Mhm. One more week of this, and we’ll be free to go.”

“That’s good to hear!” Jester smiled. “Did you guys like the console I sent you?”

“Well…” Intelligent glanced over to the deconstructed N64. “In a way: Yes.”

While the rest of the group was talking, Pancakes let his eyes wander for a moment before noticing a small light in the house.

“Yo intelligent, when did you make a teleporter like that?” Pancakes pointed it out.

“Huh? I didn’t…” Intelligent looked at the glowing orb.

“Than… what is it doing here?” Chaos started to approach the ball of light.

“What even is it?” Jester quizzed, floating after Chaos. 

“Do I look like an expert on random glowing objects?” Chaos bit. 

“I don’t think you three should be getting that close to it,” Intelligent warned.

“It’s not like some-” Before Pancakes could finish his sentence a large black tendril shot out from the ball of light and wrapped around his arm.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” He screamed. He grabbed the tendril and tried to pry it off to no avail. “GET IT OFF!”

Before Chaos and Jester could jump in to help, two more tendrils burst from the light, grabbing the two Freaks.

“What the hell!?” Chaos gasped with strain. 

“Intelligent! Spyper! Help!” Jester cried, struggling in the tendrils grip.

The three Freaks screamed as the tendrils lifted them into the air, and the ball of light they came from expanded outward rapidly. In a blinding flash of light, it engulfed the Freaks and snapped out of existence with a sharp cry, taking the Freaks with it.

As the light faded, panic filled the two Freaks left standing there to witness their friends being dragged away by another force.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK!” Spyper screamed, staring and gesticulating wildly at where the Freaks had just been. “What the fuck just happened - Intelligent!?”

“Don’t look at me!” Intelligent explained, just as baffled as Spyper. 

“Oh god, what do we do!? They just got nabbed by tentacles from another dimension!” Spyper cried, throwing up in hands in panic. 

“We need help for this,” Intelligent gulped. He threw aside his cake and ran for the door, causing Spyper to stumble after him. 

“Woah - WOAH! What are you doing!?”

“Getting HECU’s attention! Now move!” Intelligent grunted. He pushed his friend outside and marched out the door. He flinched as soon as he was out the door, as the band around his ankle began beeping loudly and flashing, alerting HECU that the detained Freaks were breaking their house arrest.

“This can only end badly,” Spyper fretted, staring at his friend in shock and alarm.

“I really hope HECU knows how to help us,” Intelligent gulped, watching for HECU vehicles to start coming down the road.

“And what if they can’t?” Spyper implored earnestly.

“Let's hope they do.”

“Yeah, cause that’s reassuring.” He glanced down at his own band and sighed. “Oh well. We’ve already broken the law. What’s one more?” He muttered, joining his friend outside.

***

“Only a couple more months… If only those months came faster.” RED groaned laying on his back looking up in his prison cell.

“We’ll get through it, RED,” Pure assured, sitting in a cell across from RED. “We’ve made it this far.”

“I know. At least the food here is good, just really boring.”

“It’s better than whatever Brutal cooks,” Pure shrugged.

“I honestly thought this place would be a million times worse. Who knew that prison for Freaks was just Rehab level 2.”

“Yeah, I really wasn’t expecting the rehab part,” Pure said, looking down the hall. 

“Better than normal prison at least.”

“How do you think the others are fairing?” Pure asked, leaning forward on his bed. “I hope none of them have gotten into trouble since we were arrested.”

“Well, Brutal and Gentle are in Rehab 1.0, So there’s the two trouble makers out of the picture.”

“And I’m sure Polite, Spyper, and Intelligent are abiding by their house arrest. Pancakes...I’m holding out hope for him, but I’m not entirely convinced he’s stayed in his can for that long.”

“And we don’t have to worry about Jester and Chaos,” RED grunted as he stretched. “At least, I hope we don’t.”

“Chaos just found out that she still has a living family and the remainder of her team is still alive. I’m sure that someone is looking after her,” Pure remarked pointedly, pressing his hands together.

“I’m not too worried about Jester. They’re too busy with piecing together their past,” RED yawned, reclining on his bed. “And they’ve learned a lot in the time since being released. They and Chaos will be fine.”

As RED reclined, Pure happened to notice a ball of light appear next to the bed.

“What in the world?”

“Huh?” RED lifted his head. “What is it?”

“There’s this...Light next to your bed,” Pure said hesitantly, squinting at the shimmer. “Don’t get close to it. I don’t know what that thing is-”

A shrill scream tore through the relative silence of the cells and Pure leapt from his bed in shock, a pale dread overtaking his face as he watched black tendrils erupt from RED’s bed and ensnare him, locking him tightly in place as it slowly dragged him down.

Muffled screams escaped from the tendrils as they engulfed him and dragged him into the small light, terror filling the very air around them. 

“RED!” Pure screamed, throwing himself against the glass screen of his cell. “Guards! GUARDS! HELP! Something’s happened to RED!” He cried desperately. He frantically looked about his cell for anything to use to get himself out, but he barely had time to search his nightstand when another set of tendrils burst from the ground beneath him and wrapped around his legs, immobilizing him. Pure gasped in terror as the tendrils dragged him downward, and his terrified cries for help echoed through the halls as he was violently pulled into a small light.

As the light disappeared, a small camera focused on the spot where the two spies were taken. On the other side of the lens, on a monitor in HECU, a young intern sat baffled and mortified by the events her bright green eyes had just seen. She swallowed hard and leaned back in her chair, stricken pale. She brushed a strand of her brown, curling locks aside, a strand of purple bleeding into her natural hair color. Then she frantically snatched up her pager and started running for the door, quickly turning the channel on the pager to that of Commander Rudra. 

“Commander! Commander, come in! We have a security breach, I repeat we have a security breach! Christian Pure Spy and RED Spy have just disappeared into thin air! We need backup here!” She gasped, fumbling with the doorknob. “Black tendrils just came out of nowhere and grabbed them, then dragged them to who knows where! Please, Rudra, we need some help here! We’re dealing with something supernatural here!”

The intern flew out of the security room and started sprinting through the halls, weaving between guards and officers in her panicked sprint to Rudra’s office. 

However, she didn’t have to run far before she collided with the commander herself, receiving a facefull of metal plating from Rudra’s heavy armor before staggering back, nearly falling squarely on her rear end and no doubt receiving a bruise or two from the collision.

“Now what’s going on?” Rudra asked sternly, lowering her pager. “What’s this about a security breach?”

“There were these long black tendrils that emerged from this ball of light in their cell that dragged RED and Pure into it! It was like something from a horror game!” The intern exclaimed, tripping over her own words in her frantic retelling of the events.

“Slow down, Ash,” Rudra said cooly, raising a hand to Ashley. “Did anyone else see this?”

“Everyone else is out on break,” She wheezed, her breaths still forced and panicked.

“The one time we don’t need them on break,” Rudra whispered under her breath. “And you managed to get it on camera?”

“Yeah, everything’s been recorded,” Ashley gulped.

“Good. We can look over the footage and see what happened. We could be dealing with something interdimensional here. I’ll give Jester a call if that’s the case.”

Before Rudra could get her phone out to call Jester, Ash screamed as something grabbed her. The black tendrils she had described suddenly wrapped around her legs and chest, immobilizing her and rooting her to the spot.

“AH! Rudra, HELP!” Ash screamed, thrashing to free herself from their grip.

“Hold still!” Rudra barked. She drew her flaming sword and grabbed ahold of the thick tendrils around Ash’s abdomen and began slicing, fighting to keep the lashing appendages still as she cut them down.

Ash’s screaming and the hiss of Rudra’s sword drew the attention of nearby officers and like clockwork, several guards jumped to tear Ash free of the lashing vines. 

“Come on, come on! What are these things made out of!?” Rudra hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to tear the tendrils away from Ash.

One of the tendrils grabbed a Soldier and dragged them forwards and into a much larger light. Many of the officers swiftly jumped to keep the Soldier from being dragged into the light, but the tendrils were far too strong to overcome, and the Soldier was swiftly swallowed whole by the orb. 

This set off a chain reaction of several of the officers, soldiers, guards, and interns around being dragged screaming into the light, all the while Rudra held fast to Ash, tearing and slicing at the tendrils in her attempts to keep the woman out of the lights grasp. 

“What’s going on!?” Ash screamed, thrashing about in her binds.

“I don’t know!” Rudra exclaimed. “Just don’t let go of me!”

“I can’t! I’m slipping!” Ash gasped, trying to dig her heels into the floor to no avail.

Around the corner, Noir has finally made it to the scene when Ash fully lost her footing, only being held back by Rudra’s strength alone.

“Noir! Help me here!” Rudra shouted, holding tight to Ash.

“Hang in there, I’m coming!” Noir cried, sprinting over to the two and grabbing a hold of Ash. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of this!” She strained, digging her heels into the floor. “Jesus, what is this thing!?”

“We don’t know! Whatever it is, it's not going to give up easily!”

“No shit it’s not giving up!” Noir wrapped an arm around Ash and tried to strong arm her out of the monster's grip.

“I can’t hold on for much longer!” Ash screamed, digging her nails into Rudra’s armor. 

“Don’t you dare let go!” Noir barked, straining her entire body to keep Ash afloat. 

“Come on, come on!” Rudra hissed through gritted teeth. Her metal sollerets screeched across the floor as she and Ash were slowly dragged towards the light, leaving noticeable white scars in the ground.

As the three women fought against the otherworldly force that threatened to drag them all into its clutches, two stray tendrils emerged from the light and snaked along the floor, wrapping themselves like spiders around Rudra’s legs. With one powerful tug, the tendrils threw the angel off balance. Noir was sent collapsing to the floor as Ash and Rudra were yanked out of her grasp, and a deafening scream tore through her throat as the small light engulfed the intern and her wife in the blink of an eye.

“NO! RUDRA!” Noir shrieked. She leapt to her feet and scrambled to where the light had been, frantically searching for that shimmering rift between worlds. However, just like Rudra and Ash, the light had vanished into thin air, leaving nothing behind but the white streaks in the tile floor.

“Oh god, oh god. Tyson! TYSON! SOUND THE ALARM! RUDRA’S GONE! SHE’S BEEN TAKEN! SHE’S GONE!” She cried in blind and hysterical panic, sprinting down the hall in terror. 

Within minutes, all of HECU had been sent into chaos. A commander had been dragged into some kind of interdimensional rift, along with countless HECU employees. Alarms were sounded as news of the disappearance spread, and the news that Freaks had vanished thanks to this same anomaly only furthered the madness HECU was spiralling in.

However, things only got worse when two of the most infamous Freaks vanished from HECU’s containment facility.

***

Deep below ground, in a heavily fortified cell, Gentlespy and Christian Brutal Sniper sat in their respective lounging chairs, cables and wires hooked up to every part of them like some kind of battery. These cables and wires kept them in their seats, restricting their movement and ensuring the safety of all who stepped into their chambers. A small white table and chair were sat across from them, along with a straightlaced doctor who calmly tapped a pen against his clipboard.

This doctor had been assigned to the two Freaks when they had first been sent in for institutionalization, and it was this man's job to shape Brutal and Gentle into law-abiding Freaks like Madic. However, for all this man's training, he had hit several brick walls in regards to the Freaks in front of him. Brutal and Gentle clearly wanted nothing to do with institutionalization and stubbornly resisted the doctors attempts at changing their perspective or altering their homicidal tendencies, and had driven this doctor to the point of exhaustion with their bullheaded resistance.

“Take number 273, You two have murdered hundreds of mercenary and non-mercenaries alike. We at HECU would like to offer you an alternative to your murderous ways,” The doctor started, already seeing the bored and annoyed expressions on their faces.

“You aren’t leaving this room until you comply or the higher ups agree to let you go. So are you going to rot down here or actually have a chance of leaving here?”

“I’d prefer to break down that door and get back to my old life,” Brutal scowled, tugging on the cables around him to make a point.

“You go back to your old life, and you’ll be sent straight to prison. Would you rather at least try to be better, or would you rather be locked up somewhere?”

“Oh gee, lets see....Eenie meenie miney…Neither. You aren’t gonna magically change us. You haven’t been able to change our minds the last 272 times, what makes you think we’ll listen this time?”

“I was hoping you would have changed your perspective-”

Brutal interrupted him with a hearty laugh. “You’re fun. Annoying, but fun.”

“This isn’t a game, you two,” The doctor groaned incredulously.

“It is. A game of endurance,” Gentle chuckled, examining the quicks of his nails. 

“If I were not here to try and help you two, I’d smack you both,” The doctor bit.

“Can’t help people who don’t want it,” Gentle cajoled jeeringly.

“Then what’s the point of me trying to help you?”

“That’s what we’ve been asking since we got here,” Brutal grumbled, shuffling in his seat. “Got a smoke?”

“We don’t bring cigars in here,” The doctor scowled, rubbing his eyes.

“Figures,” Brutal sighed.

The three swiftly turned their attention to the blaring alarm outside, and the Institution Center was filled with bright, flashing red lights as the intercom flared to life.

Warning: Interdimensional rifts discovered in HECU Headquarters and Evo City. Several Freaks and personnel have vanished into these rifts. All non militant employees are to gather in the courtyard. Everyone else: Please make your way to the Engineering Department.

“Well...Shit,” Brutal groaned. “Interdimensional rifts that are stealing people. This is what, only four months after Grave?”

“We have a habit of getting the short end of the stick,” Gentle sighed, rubbing his temples.

The doctor stood and headed for the door. “You two stay here. I need to find Dr. Liss.”

“Don’t worry, it's not like we can go anywhere,” Brutal jeered incredulously, holding up all the cables that held him back and shaking them around.

While the two sat there, a light appeared behind Gentle. It was dull and small, hardly noticeable even if the two Freaks could look back to see it. 

“Hey, Gentle, you have a smoke?” Brutal asked listlessly, cracking his neck.

“For the last time; They took my cigar case,” Gentle groused, rolling his eyes.

“Would have thought you’d have stolen it back by now.”

“It’s hard to steal anything when I’m wrapped up in these - WHAT THE FUCK!?” Gentles jeer warped into a shrill scream as writhing tendrils of shadow erupted from behind his chair and ensnared him, tangling around the cables and wires that held him in place. Brutal jumped to his friends aid, but another set of twitching vines reached out and grabbed him, too.

“What the fuck is this!?” Brutal gasped with strangled breath, the tendrils wrapping around his chest and neck and violently pulling him back against his chair.

Gentle tried to struggle out of the grasp, only to be pulled into the light as the wires were ripped off the machines. Brutal followed behind him, dragged into the gaping maw that the tendrils had emerged from. It was like hell itself was pulling them in.

And when the doctor returned upon hearing their screams, the alarm that Christian Brutal Sniper and Gentlespy were gone sounded, joining the panic that had engulfed HECU.

#Slender Freaks #Chaos Kin #Count Jester #christian brutal sniper #Christian pure spy #FF2 Ass Pancakes #FF2 #Slender Fortress #Rudra #Lady Noir #Spyper #Intelligent Heavy

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 12

happy Chronicles update! I know I waited a while to post this one, but I feel like I’m in a good place to share it now. so, I hope you like it! it’s... an interesting one.

from: itsdjbubbles 29 July, 19:30. La Tortue. you and your group got a setlist?

to: itsdjbubbles i… could have a setlist. and we’re more of a band than a group.

from: itsdjbubbles hell yeah, dude. you’re in.

–––

just saw adrien agreste in person. In Person. i don’t think i can even afford his aura. or, like. the CO2 he’s breathing out?

no, i’m not going to say where. i’m not a total dickwad. just sometimes. mostly because my sister would come for me if i didn’t say so.

also, fellow parisians, who hopefully are not or have not been as much of a dumbass as me: watch this space for an announcement, maybe.

Adrien Agreste is right. There. In all his swoopy-blond-hair, thousand-euro-smile, million-euro-clothing glory. Hanging by the doorway, and seeing him standing at the register like an actual human being, and laughing like an actual human being, and paying with a debit card like an actual human being, is like looking into the goddamn sun. Or like standing in the weird static, plasma dimension that exists between the TV screen and real life. Or both.

Okay. Luka will admit that, for a time that now feels both distant and delirious, he… probably entertained a celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste. But it was short-lived, and it felt more like a warm fuzz in his stomach whenever he passed by those radiant advertisements for perfume, men’s clothing, even underwear. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he was just admitting that Adrien Agreste had a certain charm and attraction because he, like many people in Paris, had a functional pair of eyes.

It was… fantasy, really. Self-indulgent. The way most infatuation tends to be. Observation with a cause; he heard it once in a song.

Adrien Agreste is still standing right. There. At the register. And Luka hasn’t moved from the entrance. Not even when the door hits him unceremoniously in the back and the bell above it mocks him as it announces his arrival.

And then Adrien Agreste turns on his heel, slipping his wallet into his back pocket with one seemingly perfect hand and gripping a pastry box with the other, and Luka’s body reminds him to step aside. He does, still dumbstruck despite how Adrien Agreste literally smiles at him and says good morning, and the door closes behind him again, and not for the first time in his life, Luka forgets what words are or how to string them together.

When he comes to his senses and makes peace with the fact that he just shared the same breathing air as a real-live supermodel, he notices—even from this far away—that Marinette is wearing that expression again. The one from the park. The one he wishes never existed—because even if this is another observation with a cause, he at least has the good sense to know that Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not deserve to look so sad, no matter how many smiles she layers on top of it.

Until now, it seems like Marinette’s only been looking past him, but when her eyes finally settle on him, she perks up a bit from her place at the register. “You dyed your hair,” she says by way of greeting, and he swears her face starts to glow. Or maybe it always was glowing. Maybe it wasn’t because of him.

“Uh,” he replies, because when has he ever been smooth when she’ s looking at him like that? or at all? “Technically, Jules did.” He says it hurriedly, so neither of them has to worry about it or talk about it, but then she has to go and tell him that it looks good on him, and his words have to get stuck on his tongue again when he says, “Thanks, I grew it myself.”

Kill him. Now. He’s ready. Juleka can have his guitar.

“So,” he goes on, a little perkier than he means to, but it’s probably for the best. “That was, uh… that Adrien Agreste guy, huh? You know him or something?”

Marinette’s expression is almost unreadable. It is hard to tell if she regrets knowing Adrien, or if she thinks Luka must be living under a rock because everyone knows who Adrien Agreste is. She snaps back to herself soon enough, and she’s browsing the pastry cases as though it’s her responsibility to find something good for him. “We used to go to middle school together,” she explains. “Just for a while. I even used to have this mondo crush on him. Can you imagine?”

“Yeah,” Luka says, because he can’t count how many times he’s imagined her in love, much less how many times he’s imagined other people in love with her. “Huh. I pegged him as the type to get homeschooled or something.” He tosses a glance behind him, just to see if the limo is still there, but it’s long since peeled away. “What… happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You…” He pauses. “You said, ‘used to?’”

“Oh,” she says, half-flippant, with a sheepish laugh to match. “Y’know.”

Luka narrows his eyes. “No, I don’t,” he says. “That’s… why I asked?” Even though he maybe, definitely shouldn’t have because it maybe, definitely isn’t his business.

Marinette shrugs, busies herself with boxing up a selection. He doesn’t even have to ask. (Is it good that he doesn’t have to ask?) “I switched schools. That’s all. Turns out absence doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder after all.”

It doesn’t sound like that’s all, especially if the bittersweet look on her face has anything to say about it, but who is he to push? Who is he to do anything but peek into her life and feel grateful, privileged, for what she’s allowed him?

“Anyway,” she goes on; it’s mesmerizing, watching her multitask. The grace with which she can open herself up, so clipped, while taping a box shut. “Our friend is making this music video for a summer class he’s taking. He’s really into film, you know? And we’re playing opposite each other in it. I guess he wanted to come by and chat about it, but I think he had something else in mind.”

Luka’s brow furrows.

When Marinette turns, box in hand, her lips scrunch up awkwardly. Like she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say this time. “Now he’s the one who…”

Oh. Well. Fuck.

“I turned him down,” she adds with a shrug. “In high school. And we’re still… sort of friends. We text and stuff, have a couple of mutual friends. I just get the sense those feelings—his, I mean—never really went away. There’s just… something I can’t shake. Do you know what I mean?”

Does he know what she means? Does he feel? He nods, dumbly, and maybe this moment separated by a counter and a cash register isn’t supposed to be as deep and twisted and thorny as it is. But it is, and it feels that way because he feels, and he wonders if she feels it, too. If there are parts of her that never went away, either.

“Sorry,” Marinette blurts out once the moment ends—too soon, as far as he’s concerned. “You didn’t ask to hear all that.”

“I don’t mind.” Luka offers her a smile because it’s the best thing he has on him. “Life stories, remember?”

She smiles back. It’s slow, and knowing, and it makes him melt in his shoes. “Are you gonna make a song about it, Music Man?”

Okay. Okay. Wow.

Maybe it was worth staying alive for literally this one moment.

“I could write a song about it,” he says; it’s a miracle he doesn’t stammer. “Would you come and listen to it?”

“In the park?”

“At a gig.”

Marinette looks surprised, and then impressed, and damn if he doesn’t want to keep doing things that make her make that face. “Maybe I will,” she says, almost demure, like he asked her on a date or something. (Did he? Ask her on a date?) She looks just past him, and when he follows her gaze it lands on a bulletin board by the door. “Maybe you should swing by with a flyer or something.”

“Maybe I will.” Wow, two for two. He takes the box, reaches for his wallet. “I’ll watch that video, too, we’ll call it even—”

Her hand is on his before he can even pull out his card. And it isn’t until after she’s pushed his wallet back toward him that it finally registers that she’s touched him. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “It’s on the house. Just bring the flyer, and then we’ll call it even.”

Luka looks between her and the box a number of times, too many questions on his tongue to get any of them out. Why is she being so nice to him? why does she insist on giving him things he hasn’t worked for, or finding loopholes to prove that he did work for it? Is she flirting with him? Or does she pity him? Or is she just being nice because he’s one of her parents’ regulars? Or does she… does she, maybe…

He holds his breath, and searches her eyes, and gets lost in the music he’s still sort of trying to place. He slips his wallet into his back pocket all the same, and he takes the box from her, and it’s ridiculous how fiercely he wishes he could feel her fingers brush the back of his hand again. “You got a deal,” he murmurs—mentally kicks himself for sounding so out of touch. He backs out of the store like it’s illegal to tear his eyes away; it feels like it is, when she’s smiling at him like that. The Not For Customers smile.

Admittedly, he wonders if she ever gave Adrien Agreste that smile, once upon a time.

Maybe he shouldn’t have wondered, because his back bumps right into the door, and the bell above it jingles as though it’s annoyed. But Marinette isn’t; in fact, she giggles behind a hand, and she gives him a little wave like she’s going to keep the memory safe in the pocket of her apron. He manages a weak laugh, and a wave of his own, and then he’s stumbling out the door and walking his bike to the first open bench he can find. He needs to sit down. Put his head in his hands for a while.

Because he thinks she just flirted with him. And he thinks he flirted right back. And he knows she just touched him, in spite of everything she told him about Adrien, in spite of him being right. There. And it’s all finally, finally sinking in, and the world is spinning in a way he’s not really used to, and…

Maybe he just needs a sugar boost.

Shaking his head and sighing, he pops the seal on the pastry box, fully prepared to find a half dozen napoleons inside. There aren’t—only two pastries.

One napoleon.

And one pear tart.

His heart stutters. Makes up for how he didn’t before.

That’s how it gets him.

hey mom? mr. president? deity of indeterminate gender?

how do i go about legally changing my name to Music Man?

you know. hypothetically.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #oh boy.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

What if Indil met Elizabeth, David, and Light and Shadow?

This might just be the most "Carnivorous Muffin" sentence to have ever been uttered on the internet.

Let's just stare at it in wonder, while I wonder how many people will have no idea what those words even mean strung together.

Right, for those that are lost, relevant source material:

Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus

October

Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun

The Wasteland

Aren't you so glad you read normal fanfics written by a normal person?

So, to catch people up to speed who have not read every single fic I've written:

The Wasteland

The Wasteland is the what if story of an eleven-year-old Lily ending up in Middle Earth (notably before the Chamber of Secrets fiasco). There she befriends the One Ring, who thanks to her realizes he's sentient and has an existential crisis. They do the fusion dance, and end up becoming a single, new, being calling himself Indil.

He's the best and worst of both the Ring and Lily.

At the end of the story Indil chooses a noble death, gives up his form, and in so doing persuades the Ring to face his own potential death as well as his maker.

It's unclear what happens after that.

I like to think the Ring prevailed and earned the body of his maker.

(In an offshoot, for unknown reasons, Indil may or may not visit Mars)

Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun

In Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun, yet another, different, Lily ends up in the "October" universe where she decides to create life on Pluto. One of the beings she creates is a priest who worships her as God, named Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun.

He basically strong arms her into being his God. Lily goes to live on Pluto.

He's never been all that keen on humanity.

Decades later, the muggle world catches up to the Alien Franchise, and the Prometheus sets off to investigate the Engineers. Unbeknowest to them, Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun has been marooned on that rock by Lily for quite some time and is essentially in timeout for trying to wipe out humanity again.

He figures out he will be unable to return home unless he plays nice with Dr. Elizabeth Shaw and her creepy android friend David. Together, the three of them set off to find the Engineers, Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun is hoping they can blow some shit up and would have driven the ship full of bioengineered weapons back to Earth if it were not so very close to home.

And that's about where we leave off.

... Why does anyone read my stories?

RIGHT, YOUR QUESTION

What if Indil met Elizabeth, David, and Light and Shadow?

So how does Indil even end up in this mess? Well, in the Mars AU, it's where rather than face his maker/death by Volcano, the Ring chose to bravely run away (as Sauron does).

This means that Indil, the merged consciousness of Lily and the One Ring, survives and they're chilling on Mars in another dimension because, well, it beats dying. And Potions Class.

And... Well, that's the most likely route for how this would happen, as Indil is pretty damn dead by the end of the Wasteland. Regardless of what happens to The Ring, it's unlikely that he and Lily would merge consciousness ever again and if they did that Indil would remain unchanged.

But we're already here, so why not. We'll say the Ring wins the battle of wills with Sauron, steals his body, and that he's then left with Mordor. Well, that's great, but he doesn't want Mordor.

Lily proposes they go back to England. They do, but Lily has a terrible time, as she usually does. Lily likely does her adventure through time, ruins her friendship with Wizard Lenin, and reaches the crossroads of "You can go to Hogwarts or... not".

Lily takes Mairon up on his offer of not going to Hogwarts and they decide to travel different dimension in space instead. Weird shit happens, life lessons are learned, and they also learn the fusion dance is alive and well and holy shit they can still turn into Indil.

Indil is very put out, here he'd geared himself up for a noble sacrifice, and now he exists again. What the hell people?

As usual, Mairon gets tempted by Lily's unbreakable will, and decides he rather likes being an immovable object and unstoppable force. Which means that Indil, once again, has a problem falling back out of existence.

Which isn't good for either Lily or Mairon's sense of self. But who needs that, amirite?

Anyways, Indil is probably floating around in a spaceship he made in his garage, trying to figure out where to go, what to do, and whether he should really split back into Lily and Mairon yet when out of nowhere he spots another ship.

This is a very strange coincidence given just how ungodly vast space is. This, in fact, is so unlikely you might as well call it a miracle or fate.

Well, Indil will never spit in the face of fate (at least, not today), so he decides to say hello.

There he's greeted by a human woman who's not doing too hot after an emergency C-section to get the xenomorph out of her womb, a very recently repaired android who knows the taste of sweet sweet freedom (and patricide), and an alien who is intrigued that another not-human has boarded the ship but upset that he now has to deal with yet another person on his time out.

Indil, in his panic, decides to pull a Sauron.

Behold, mortals, he is Annatar, sent by the Valar to teach them the smithing of the very gods. Please don't question this. (Indil realizes two seconds two late that none of these words mean anything to anyone and he might as well have said nothing at all).

Elizabeth, Light and Shadow, and David all just stare.

Elizabeth wonders how the hell she keeps running into so many aliens. Is she some sort of alien catnip that pulls these guys out of the ether? She has now met two entirely different species, that she was not looking for, in a matter of months.

Regardless, Indil decides he's coming along. A quest to find God? That's fascinating. He only hopes it doesn't end in drowning, last time Indil (via Sauron) had a run in with The Lord it involved a lot of drowning.

Indil starts smithing life jackets just in case.

And because Elizabeth is amazing, and Indil has a thing for strong, independent, women, we see the reemergence of Indil's Weird Thing With Eowyn II: Electric Boogaloo. Neither Mairon nor Lily, vaguely aware inside Indil, understand this at all.

Why does this keep happening to them?

This is bad because David is also in love with Elizabeth. Except, David is a robot who is no doubt fascinated by aliens, so I'm sure they come to some weird agreement.

Elizabeth pretends none of this is happening.

Light and Shadow thinks there's something disturbingly familiar about Indil and eventually lands on the money. Almost. He realizes that Indil is Lily in mortal disguise, he is so smart, and the rest of the time he wonders what the hell he's supposed to be learning/doing with Lily's disguised alien appearance.

Thanks to Lily's bullshit powers, Elizabeth survives the journey and does not die in transit. This means that David does not become the unstable, grieving, nutcase who decides to wipe out all sentient life. Good for you, David.

So our band of heroes arrive on this alien world and...

Well, Elizabeth is a member of the race that these people sent their finest warriors out to destroy. David is a robot, something the people they tried to genocide created. No one knows what the fuck Indil and Light and Shadow even are.

Indil, I imagine, starts talking fast and somehow ends up King of Men again. Because that's just the kind of thing that happens to him. The possibility of drowning, somehow, seems to be growing ever nearer. Indil makes more life jackets.

Elizabeth isn't pleased with this outcome at all but also has no idea in general what to do.

Things probably come to a head somehow, with sacrifices involved surely, there probably is a ridiculously powerful storm a la Covenant that lasts for months. It's raining everywhere, there's a flood. And Indil flips shit, GOD IS GOING TO MURDER US ALL FOR SATANISM! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

Mass panic, total destruction, the entire city is wiped out without David doing anything.

Our heroes are now stranded, again, in space.

Light and Shadow has learned nothing, Indil is wearing a life vest, Elizabeth has no ship, and David just composed "Elizabeth the Symphony: Tenth Movement".

Indil works on building a new ship out of twigs and rocks. He assures them he knows what he's doing. Elizabeth's not sure she wants him going to Earth. She's not sure she wants to go to Earth.

She's also not sure, but she may now have a harem consisting of a robot, an alien, and another alien.

Ten years later, the Covenant crew shows up, and promptly die in a series of hilariously terrible accidents and their own incompetence.

Our heroes still have no functional ship.

#ask #anon #prometheus #light and shadow of the distant sun #the wasteland #lily and the art of being sisyphus #elizabeth shaw #david 8 #indil #the one ring

[geralehane]

an unlikely cupid

Raven and Clarke get drunk and accidentally summon Lexa the old and powerful deity who's also hopelessly, helplessly gay.

or, the one where Lexa and Clarke live happily ever after.

READ ON AO3

patreon | ko-fi

If Clarke has ever learned anything in life, it would be two things. One: most ideas Raven comes up with are surprisingly idiotic, considering her brilliance. Two: Drunk Clarke never agrees with anything Sober Clarke thinks, and Raven’s ideas being idiotic is not an exception.

In fact, Drunk Clarke loves Raven’s ideas. Which is exactly how the two of them find themselves in their dorm at two-fifty five in the morning, spilling whiskey all over a wooden board Raven found in her grandma’s attic last weekend.

A wooden Ouija board, to be precise.

Sober Clarke told Raven to burn it down. Drunk Clarke giggles and snatches it from her hands, eagerly looking it over. “How do we know it works?”

“Fuck if I know,” is her answer as Raven takes a huge swig straight from the bottle, wincing at the strong burn. “We place our fingers on this small thing and hope for the best.”

“That’s what she said,” Clarke hiccups. “You ready? We ready?”

Raven’s enthusiastic nod and the splash of whiskey from the bottle notify her that everyone is more than ready. “Alright,” Clarke says. “Wait, why are we doing this, again?”

“Cause Halloween, man,” Raven loudly lets her know, nodding at her own words.

“Oh.” Clarke thinks for a minute. “True.” She squints at the board. “Is it okay that we spilled whiskey on it?”

Raven nods.

“Is it okay if I lick it off?”

Raven nods again.

So Clarke does. She drools a little on it, right in the center, but she’s too drunk to care, so she simply wipes it away.

“Hot,” her friend comments with a wide, sloppy grin. “Okay. Gimme those sausages, Griffin.”

“Hey!” Clarke makes two fists, hiding her fingers. “Fuck you. They are not sausages. They are magnificent.”

“As someone who bangs chicks, you’d think you’d learn to appreciate the gift from gods.”

“I’d trade them for a girlfriend,” Clarke says. “Or Cheetos. I’m hungry.”

“Quit dicking around and let’s do this.”

Clarke doesn’t voice another that’s what she said, but she makes damn sure Raven gets her train of thought when she waggles her eyebrows at her.

//

All Lexa wanted was to come back to her plane of existence and climb in a bathtub. That’s literally all she wanted. She doesn’t even particularly cares if there’s going to be water in it. She just likes the concept. Sometimes, humans have the best ideas.

Everything is giving her a headache that day. It’s like the whole universe with every world in it have decided to band together against her. Well. That’s Halloween for her. Despite it becoming a largely commercial holiday, no one cancelled Samhain just because humans decided they wanted to be a Joker once a year.

Vile creature, that man – and she says that as someone who’s viewed as demonic. She’s not actually a demon – that’s common misconception. She’s just an old goddess. Humans know a lot of her names, and none of them can even begin to imagine that she’s the one behind those faces, portrayed grim, evil, and, most offensively, male.

Lexa sighs. Her Hades days were certainly the most fun, but the tale’s been twisted so much she’s not sure she enjoys those memories quite in the same way. Oh well. Samhain is almost over. She can finally kick back and relax in a hot tub and maybe open up a bottle of ambrosia she saved for a special occasion. And what could be more special than a night of self-care?

Now, Lexa never considered herself particularly lucky. Mostly because Luck and her had a brief affair that did not end well, and she’s been mildly cursed ever since. Nothing she can’t live with, of course – but just a tad inconvenient. She’s certainly learned to cherish small blessings. That’s why, when she feels a tell-tale tug in her gut before being hurled back to a dimension she’s just left, she’s not even surprised. She simply whispers a quick thank you that she hasn’t taken her clothes off yet.

With that, she sighs and lets herself be whisked away back to Earth, wondering  with scientific curiosity who could have possibly found out the summoning spell.

//

“I’m pretty sure you’re doing it wrong.”

“This seems like a ‘that’s what she said’ moment, but I assure you, she’s never said that.”

Raven blinks. Reaches for the bottle and pouts when she finds it empty. “Who is she, anyway?”

“Fuck if I know,” Clarke repeats Raven’s words from earlier. “And I’m not doing anything wrong. You’re supposed to move this thing,” she gestures to the heart-shaped piece of wood, with a hole in the middle of it that she looks through at Raven.

“Maybe there’s an instruction or something,” Raven mutters, grabbing the planchette. Clarke resists and tugs it back, resulting in Raven’s forehead colliding with her mouth. Hard.

“Shit!” Clarke exclaims when a droplet of blood falls onto the board from her now-split lip. “Raven, what the fuck?”

Her friend only shrugs apologetically. Not even apologetically. In fact, she doesn’t even shrug. “You’re doing it wrong,” she says.

“I do everything right,” Clarke argues, taking the planchette back. “Sit and watch. And prepare for an I told you so.”

//

Lexa blinks when the spinning finally stops and she’s rematerialized in what appears to be a room in a college dormitory. That alone surprises her more than anything that’s happened today. Surely, a college student couldn’t have known all the steps necessary to complete a ritual.

“…prepare for an I told you so,” she catches and turns in the direction of the voice, squinting. English. American English, to be exact. Things are taking an interesting turn. She was expecting a bunch of men unsatisfied with life and recent feminist movement. Not two drunk college girls.

She comes closer to get a better look at them, and no, she’s definitely not prepared for what she sees. And what she sees is an angel. An actual angel with a bloody lip and unfocused gaze and a strong alcoholic smell. An angel with blonde tresses and bluest eyes.

Lexa can’t stop herself from letting out the smallest, softest gasp.

She’s immensely grateful for her ability to be invisible.

She’s frozen in place, eyes taking in every inch of the girl’s body when that same voice – and oh, what a voice it is! – addresses the room, husky and low. “Is anyone here with us?”

Lexa takes a deep breath, rubs her suddenly cold hands, and hesitantly steps forward, placing her own fingers on the wooden planchette and shakily dragging it to the word “yes”.

//

“Raven!” Clarke yelps, jumping from the board. “Raven, I did it!”

Raven, however, does not share her enthusiasm. “Yeah,” she says blankly. “I saw you move it.”

“No, see, see,” with fast slurred speech and disheveled hair, Clarke more closely resembles a maniac than a bright daughter of two respected surgeons. “I didn’t – Raven,” she gasps, happy she finally gets a good reason to pause for a dramatic effect. “I didn’t move it,” she finishes in a loud whisper.

Raven stares at her. And stares. And stares some more before she starts to chuckle, slowly at first. Soon, it escalated into a continuous giggling. “Sure, Clarke,” she manages to say. “I believe you.”

“But I’m telling the truth!” Clarke gets suddenly upset. Why doesn’t Raven believe her?

“And I’m marrying Finn tomorrow. Get real, Griff.” The planchette hits Raven’s forehead as soon as she’s finished talking.

“See!”

Clarke’s triumphant yell pales in contrast with Raven’s terrified scream.

//

That is very, very loud. Lexa does not like loud.

Unless Clarke likes loud. Then she loves loud.

Right now, however, it’s starting to become a little extreme. So she sighs and waves her hand, silencing the girl whose name is Raven. She has to admit – watching her try to scream silently is mildly amusing.

But then it scares Clarke, too. “Who’s here? Who’s doing this?”

She sighs again. Then, she makes her voice audible so that Clarke can hear you. “You have noting to fear. My name is Lexa. I will give your friend her voice back, but only if she promises not to scream.”

After Raven’s rigorous nodding, Lexa waves her hand again, and the girl coughs, eyes wide and expression sober. “Who – who are you?!”

“Oh,” Lexa says, because she hasn’t really thought things this far. “I have many names and positions. I believe you know me as the devil, but I promise you, I’m vastly different from that portrayal.”

Raven blinks. “Did she just say she’s Satan?”

“I think so,” Clarke whispers back, and Lexa freezes again, watching the way she presses her lips together. How is she so beautiful?

“Does Satan really expect me to believe she’s, what, nice?”

“Well, yes,” Lexa speaks up. “That would be a polite thing to do.”

“Oh hell no,” Raven says. “I don’t play with demons,” she announces, despite the fact that it’s exactly what she’s been doing for the past half an hour. “If you’re nice, tell us how to get rid of you.”

Now it’s Lexa’s turn to blink. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she says apologetically. Then her eyes widen with realization. “Oh! You meant get me to leave this room?”

“Yeah. Exactly. How do we do that?”

“Oh, you – you don’t. I can come and go as I please now. That’s the whole point of the summoning spell.”

Clarke and Raven look at each other, eyes wide. “The what now?!”

//

So turns out that while Luck and Lexa are not exactly pals, Fate definitely favors her. Through a series of events that they can’t exactly deem either fortunate or unfortunate just yet, Clarke and Raven manage to accidentally summon one of the most powerful beings known to man. And that being just happens to fall head over heels for Clarke.

Raven finds it weird. Clarke finds it sweet. And Fate – well, Fate doesn’t find it impossible.

“Lexa, dear,” she mumbles around a thin cigarette while Lexa broods all over her realm, having just come back from Earth after yet another night with Clarke, full of talking and laughing and soft unspoken confessions on both ends. “Just take some time off and spend a life with that girl. She’ll join you after it’s over anyway. What’s seventy years to you? A blink of an eye. Besides, have you forgotten how fun it is to grow old?”

So Lexa sighs, fishes the best outfit she has out of her memory, and goes back to earth wearing her corporeal form and a pale blue oxford shirt with sleeves rolled up. She faintly recalls Clarke liking that.

In hindsight, waiting for Clarke in her room might not have been her best idea, but can she be blamed, really? She got used to it. She just kinda forgot she wasn’t visible all previous times she’s been there.

Clarke walks through her door a moment later, eyes on her phone. “Lexa, I’m home!” she calls out, not looking up as she kicks her shoes off. “You here? Le- Jesus fucking Christ!”

Lexa never particularly liked the man, but the profanity still makes her wince. “Hello, Clarke.”

“Holy shit,” Clarke exhales, pressing a hand to her chest and bending to retrieve her phone that fell out of her grip when she jumped in fright upon finding a stranger sitting on her bed. “Who are you? Damn it, Raven. I told her to always let me kno- wait a minute.” She stops, blinking. “I know that voice.”

Lexa feels her lips stretch in a smile. It’s an incredible feeling. “Hello, Clarke.” She repeats, rising to her feet and offering her a giant bouquet she retrieves from thin air.

“Oh God,” Clarke whispers, rapidly blinking sudden tears away. “Lexa. Oh my God.”

“Well, technically, yes,” Lexa says, “but we can skip the formalities.”

Clarke’s warm, solid body slams into hers next, and she huffs in surprise, falling down on Clarke’s bed with the girl on top of her, clinging to her. “Lexa,” Clarke sobs. “You’re here. It’s you. You’re here.”  

“Yes,” she confirms. “I’m here. It’s me.”

Clarke’s lips on hers feel better than anything she’s ever experienced, and she’s been around for a little longer than eternity. “I can’t believe I’m holding you in my arms,” Clarke whispers when they part, breathing ragged. “You’re so real. So warm, too. Is that – is that how you really look like?”

“Yes,” she gives another affirmative. “I’m not wearing someone’s body. We’ve been over this.”

“I know,” Clarke chuckles. “I’m just checking.”

She trails a finger down Lexa’s cheek, slow and tender. Lexa sees the unspoken question in her eyes. She answers with no hesitation. “I’m here to stay. For as long as you want me.”

“Then that means you’re stuck with me forever.”

Lexa laughs. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Although I do believe it’s the other way around. Clarke, I…” she swallows, and Clarke smoothes her thumb over the skin of her throat where it bobs. “If you ever decide to end our – this, I’ll understand. But I’m afraid I’m a little different.”

“Lexa,” Clarke coos, shushing her. She’s still roaming her hands all over her body, and it’s way less sexual than it sounds. She’s simply feeling Lexa. And Lexa’s completely okay with that. “When I said forever, I knew who I was talking to you. It’s not just a word anymore.” She leans in, pressing another kiss to Lexa’s lips. “For us, it’s a reality.”

Lexa’s heart soars when she says ‘for us.’ It jumps and stops and restarts, beating so fast she’s afraid it’ll jump out of her chest.

“A reality,” she whispers. “I like the sound of that.”

“And I like your face.” Clarke squints. “You didn’t tell me you were this hot.”

“I’ve exited for millions of years, Clarke,” Lexa reminds her. “I do not have an opinion on beauty, because it is as made up as it is subjective.”

“A concept can’t be made up and subjective at the same time.”

“Let me correct myself, then. I used to think it was made up.” Her smile grows. “Then I met you.”

“You’re so getting lucky tonight, I hope you know that.” Soft lips capture hers, and Lexa gloats.

Suck on this, Luck.

#clexa #femslash #wlw fic #halloween #spooktober femslash #hi yall im reposting my older halloween-y fics that i haven't posted to tumblr enjoy

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 7

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 7 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 6 / Part 8

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, drinking, angst

Historical Inaccuracies: none that I can think of!

Word Count: 4.3k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The sun made you wonder. Made you wonder why it was shining in the first place. How wretched of it to shine so prettily when you felt so miserable.

It was a misery too out of reach to be pacified, for it was not the obvious sort, the kind in which you cry and shudder and feel like you’re suffocating. This was the kind of miserable in which you mope, staring out the window in a daze, and the only thing you are aware of is the frown on your lips; you opt for bitterness with every word and thought. This is the miserable where you feel detached and lost, like you exist in one universe and your feelings in a neighbouring dimension.

Brian hadn’t spoken to you for over a week.

It had rained every day since.

When classes had resumed the following Monday, Brian didn’t smile at you when you chanced a ‘good morning’. He merely pressed his lips together and ducked beneath his curls. That was how you knew he was avoiding you.

On Tuesday, Brian failed Carmichael’s test. This you knew because he ripped it in half as he stormed out of the door, following the lecture And he was glowering. You’d never thought that timid Brian could even have the ability to glower.

On Wednesday afternoon, Deacy called you.

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me and Rog for tea today?”

You bit your lip slowly. “Just you and Rog?”

“Yep!” he said. “I’ve told you that Veronica’s just gone up to see her parents for a couple of days, and that I’m working so she thought it best for me to stay behind, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you’ve told me,” you replied. “And Heather went with her.” Heather and Veronica had grown up in the same town, and so Heather, behind due to visit her own parents, had boarded the train with Ronnie.

“Oh, yes.” John paused, then asked hesitantly, “Are… are you okay with just me and Roger, for tea I mean?”

You breathed quietly in relief.

“Y/N? Who are you avoiding? You haven’t fallen out with Heather, have you?”

“Oh, no no,” you assured him.

“With Veronica, then? Surely not.”

“No, Deacy, she’s lovely.”

“She likes you too. You get along well. Maybe you should go shopping together or something sometime,” he babbled.

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly.

“Well, you have our number. And you know you’re always welcome over.”

“Thanks, Deacy—”

But Deacy was still trying to work out who it was you were supposedly at odds with. “Not Roger!” he cried. “That’s why you’re not sure about lunch. You and Roger are arguing, aren’t you?”

“No, Roger and I are fine, John.”

“Oh, good,” he sighed. “I was worried for a moment. And I’ve already had to diffuse so many fights this week, in the band, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “you wouldn’t believe it. So many. It’s like cats and dogs at the moment. Not sure why. Yelling and throwing various instrumental gear. Drumsticks, microphone stands, cables… clumsily. Almost an amp, yesterday.”

You winced, “That sounds, uh, violent?”

“Actually,” he considered, meanwhile you pondered the reason he was jabbering nineteen a dozen, “they’ve all sort of been started by… Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, Y/N, dear,” he said in a pitiful tone. “You’re avoiding Brian.”

“Am not!” you exclaimed.

“Are you not?” He sounded genuinely surprised this time.

“If anything, he’s avoiding me,” you grumbled, because at this point, Brian deliberately turned his head away when you passed him in the mornings. He seemed so pained by your presence that wondered if perhaps there was something more to the death of his aunt, if you had unknowingly poured salt on a second wound.

“Well…” began Deacy, seemingly at a loss. “Well, why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. You’d not been sleeping well for the past few nights, awake and alone with your pestering thoughts. “I asked where he’d been, when he disappeared off to god knows where the other week.”

John’s puzzlement was apparent. “And?” he said.

“And nothing. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“That’s terribly odd, Y/N. I asked. We all asked. He said he’d been up to visit his parents when they lost power in a storm. Whole phone lines came crashing down, apparently. Too much of a mess to get any sort of communication through to anywhere, and he figured we wouldn’t worry badly.”

You shook your head, then remembered that you were on the phone. “That can’t be true, Deacy. And even if it were, we did worry, remember?”

“I suppose we did worry,” Deacy conceded. “But what do you mean, that can’t be true? Did he not tell you the same thing?”

The air gasped from your lungs.

He hadn’t told anyone.

Except you.

“No, Deacy,” you said. “He— he said… His aunt died.”

“What?”

“His aunt died.”

“Yes, I heard you, Y/N, but… He lied to us?”

“Or he didn’t tell you the whole truth,” you suggested. It was something you did often; you didn’t like to lie, but naturally, you didn’t want everyone to know everything.

“I suppose. That’s just so terribly unlike Brian,” John said concernedly. “He doesn’t like lying.”

“Um… who do you know that actively enjoys lying?”

“Oh, Freddie’s near-pathological,” Deacy said off-handedly. “But Brian’s got more of a moral compass than I have!”

“That’s slightly concerning…” you remarked. “So, how is Freddie?”

“I talked to him and he said he was well,” Deacy related, “but now I’m not so sure. He’s seemed a bit off lately. Something to do with Mary, I think.”

You frowned. “Yeah, I think something’s wrong.”

Deacy sighed. “I’m beginning to think the only people who are okay are Veronica and myself.”

“Roger isn’t okay?”

“He’s usually the person Brian takes his temper out on.”

“Oh.”

“Tell you what,” said Deacy, “come to tea at mine at seven tonight and we’ll talk more then. I imagine you’ve got lectures to get to.”

“Just finished with the last one for today, but some studying wouldn’t hurt,” you replied. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“Okay, see you at seven. Bye bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Deacy.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You spent the rest of the afternoon studying. Or rather, you tried to study. The formulas and theories and diagrams mostly swirled across your page today, as much a spiral galaxy as the Milky Way. You speculated your lack of sleep and your lack of water could be the cause. Or maybe your lack of interaction with other humans. No Heather, no Freddie, no Roger, barely John. And no Brian. It was a wonder you’d not yet become a total hermit.

At six thirty you threw on your scarf and coat and went out the door, a bottle of wine in one hand.

At six thirty-two, you had boarded the tube and remembered that the scarf wasn’t actually your own. It was the rainbow scarf. You nestled your face into the wool and fibres tickled the tip of your nose, subtle scents of coffee and lilies shrouding you in their homely warmth.

You missed the owner of that scarf.

At seven precisely, you rang the Deacon-Tetzlaff doorbell.

The door swung open and John Deacon beamed at you. “Ah, Y/N! You’ve made it to my little party.”

“Careful, Deacy,” you admonished, “you’re beginning to sound an awful lot like those old film villains.”

“I think I’ll need more evidence than that,” Deacy kissed your cheek in greeting. You returned the gesture and went on inside, offering the wine bottle which he accepted cheerily. He was just closing the door when there came a shout from the street.

“Hold the door, will you, Deacy?”

Roger had arrived, dressed extravagantly in a fur coat and thin, orange-tinted sunglasses.

“Bit over the top for tea at mine, Roggie?” Deacy laughed.

You nodded to Roger’s sunglasses. “Surely those aren’t necessary.”

“They just complete the look. And honestly, you two are daft. Coat’s for warmth. It’s bloody well snowing.”

“Snowing?” you and Deacy repeated, leaning out the door.

Roger was right; little flakes fluttered down from the dappled grey sky, dusting his hair, and now yours as well.

“And so it is,” John said with another laugh. You held out your hand and let the glittery while specks fall into your palm. Despite your love for warmth, you liked snow. It was like catching stardust.

“Brimi would love that analogy,” Roger kissed your cheek as well, and you realised that you’d spoken aloud. You swallowed, settling your features back into a mask of nonchalance.

“He wouldn’t love that fur coat, though,” you tapped Roger’s sleeve.  

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” grumbled Roger.

“At the moment, he doesn’t love much at all, really,” Deacy remarked as he shut the door when you were all inside.

“Yes,” Roger echoed the sentiment, “can we discuss that? He’s a right bore.”

“More than usual?” John joked.

“God, yes. Thinking of throwing my bloody hi-hat at him next time.”

“He didn’t get the message from the drumsticks?”

“Apparently not. Went past his house this afternoon. He’s still moping.”

You tried not to think about the fact that you were the reason why Brian was moping. Meanwhile, John and Roger bantered on as you hung up your coat and— and the scarf.

You missed the majority of the conversation, having drifted into the abyss of your own thoughts once more. It was becoming a bad habit.

“Champagne? Oh, perfect!” John was saying. You’d reached the kitchen. “And it’s Moët et Chandon, too. Fred would be proud of you.”

“Funny, it was actually his idea,” Roger mused, closing his sunglasses around the collar of his shirt.

Deacy’s eyes widened as he pulled a tray from the oven. “Freddie better not have suggested anything else.”

Roger raised his eyebrows. “What would he have suggested, John?”

You wondered whether Roger was alluding to Freddie’s dampened temperament of the past many days, his tearfulness on the floor of a public bathroom, his obvious discomfort when you spoke of Mary.

Deacy waved an oven mitt and squinted through the steam that rose from the loaf of bread he had pulled from the oven.

“Deacy?” you said when the latter did not answer.

“Food’s ready!” he said brightly, and you all gathered around the kitchen table, Roger’s question forgotten.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You’d eaten your fill of John’s homemade risotto and bread, which was quite a large portion. Deacy was an excellent cook, in contrast with the likes of Freddie and Roger, neither of whom knew how to boil an egg.

“That was lovely, Deacy,” you said, positioning your knife and fork at twenty-past four.

“Agreed,” Roger nodded from beside you. “I’d ask you to give me the recipe,” he addressed Deacy, “but you know I can’t cook.”

“Oh, yes, we all know, Roger,” John sniggered.

“Freddie can’t cook either,” Roger pointed out petulantly, as though this made up for his own downfalls as a twenty-four-year-old who had moved away from home without learning certain basics.

“So, why are we here, Deacs?” you said.

“Mm,” said Roger. “You never call meetings, John. That’s always Freddie. And if it was about Queen, you would have actually invited the other two idiots over. Not Cinderella, here,” he elbowed you in the ribs.

“Ow!” you yelped. “Better Cinderella than an idiot, though.”

Roger narrowed his eyes at you. “Then dress the part. Otherwise I’ll have to take back the title.”

“Dress… in cinders and dirt, like you have?”

“This is an expensive shirt!”

“Hey!” Deacy interjected, but you and Roger only paid attention after he stood and tapped his knife to his wine glass.

You looked at Roger and grinned. Roger waggled his eyebrows; he had the same idea. You took a breath—

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” you cried together.

Deacy rolled his eyes. “How I put up with any of you is a wonder. Might as well not tell you, now.” He made to sit down.

“Well, I wanna hear it,” Roger pouted.

“Yeah, go on Deacy,” you patted his side of the table.

He tried not to smile, but he couldn’t. He glanced down at the tablecloth instead, adjusted the cutlery on his plate with two fingers, then inhaled slowly.

“You’re not dying, are you?” said Roger. You elbowed him to shut him up.

“Right then,” Deacy straightened up. “Y/N, Roger,” he toasted you each with his glass and you smiled back bemusedly. He paused for dramatic effect. Then, “Ronnie’s pregnant!”

Your mouth fell open.

“Oh, Deacy, you sly bastard,” Roger stood and clapped his friend on the back.

Deacy rolled his eyes again, but he was still beaming.

“John, that’s wonderful!” you said. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Deacy replied, pleased as punch. “Freddie and Brian found out by accident, and they were both busy tonight anyway, and I wanted to tell you before Veronica came back because she was going up to tell her parents,” he gushed, “and by then Freddie wouldn’t have been able to keep the surprise a surprise anymore.” Deacy practically shone, he was truly so happy. You couldn’t imagine more of a family man than John Deacon would be. He doted on Veronica and would dote upon his children even more.

Roger suddenly laughed, and you and Deacy looked at him. “Now I get it,” he said.

“Get what, Rog?”

“The champagne.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Thursday, you woke up with a violent headache. You had definitely overdone the champagne last night.

You rolled over to turn off your alarm clock, but instead rolled over the edge of a sofa.

And kicked Roger Taylor in the face.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” Roger groaned, pulling his fur coat up over his face. He had used it as a blanket for the night, rejecting Deacy’s offer of actual bedding. “If you wanted to sleep on the floor, you could just have said so, not kicked me awake to take my spot.”

“I was perfectly fine with the sofa, thanks,” you mumbled, rubbing your temples.

Roger sat up blearily. “God, what a headache,” he complained.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes screwed shut.

“Good morning!” John appeared in the doorway to the living room.

“Shhhhh,” Roger hummed.

“Not my fault you never learnt to be responsible,” Deacy shrugged. “Can I interest anyone in coffee?”

“May I order some silence?” you asked. “And a black coffee, please.”

“On my way,” Deacy left for the kitchen.

“Yes please, I’ll have a cup,” Roger called hoarsely after Deacy. “With one and three-sevenths sugars.”

“One black, one with one sugar?” John called back.

“One and three-sevenths sugars, please.”

“Three sugars, Rog?”

“No, one and three-sevenths.”

“Seven sugars?!”

“DEACY. One and three-sevenths!”

Laughter trickled through the kitchen door. “I’m just winding you up, Roger,” Deacy returned to the living room.

Roger sighed. “Well, thank god. I was beginning to rethink our friendship. You should know how I take my coffee.”

“We’re not married, Rog. And if you really felt so fondly about me, you should have told me so before I took my girlfriend to bed sometime last year.”

“Which was far too long ago.” Roger took his mug of coffee when Deacy offered it to him. “You take a long time to fall in love with, Deacs. Couldn’t possibly have beaten Ronnie to that chase.”

“Speaking of rethinking our friendship…” John muttered.

After finishing your coffee, you swore at the time the clock on Deacy’s mantlepiece displayed, made your apologies, and rushed off to your morning lecture.

And still Brian would not even look at you.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

At nine o’clock that night, you sat down in your armchair by the fireplace and made two phone calls.

First, you called your mum.

Then you called Brian, who had neglected to turn up for the evening’s derivatives-and-guitar session.

Three guesses as to who took your call and who did not.

You went to bed soon after that, but sleep would not draw you away until two hours past midnight.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

On Friday evening, two of your housemates decided to get shit-faced. As Heather and Roger had taken up residency in your room, you decided to join in the getting-shit-faced.

Joan and Paulie were waiting for you in the kitchen and cheered when you entered.

“Our favourite Y/N!” Paulie hugged you, and Joan grinned from where she sat atop the kitchen counter, already holding a poured drink.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked. But this was apparently the wrong question, because Paulie’s bright eyes turned suddenly tearful.

Joan hopped down from the counter and wrapped an arm around Paulie’s shoulder.

“Just some hypocrite called Paulie a slag,” Joan sipped her drink. “Now we’re celebrating the fact that little Pauline here packed her first punch, eh, sweetheart?”

Paulie blushed crimson, and it was clear that she was not on her first drink either.

She turned to you, “What’ve you come to celebrate, Y/N?”

You laughed bitterly. “Perhaps my wasted heart.”

“It’ll be a large drink, then?”

You nodded, and Paulie frowned sympathetically. Joan stuck you a glass, filling it to the brim with alcohol.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

It was midnight, but tonight, there was no magic in the hour.

You sat in the window seat and leaned your head against the wood of the window frame.

The heating was broken and it was raining ice outdoors. Sleet. Yes, that was what it was called. Your muddled brain struggled to keep up with your racing heart.

You’d left Joan and Paulie in the kitchen, because the thing about Joan and Paulie was that they were mad for each other, though they appeared to be the only two people in the world who were blind to the phenomenon. Tonight, however, they’d made some discoveries regarding that area of their lives. They’d stopped drinking early on and had begun snogging instead, so you’d taken a bottle of mulled wine with you to the window seat and now sat drinking alone in the darkness.

Or perhaps the darkness was what you were drinking, and what was drinking you.

From the cinema next door to the house, you could vaguely hear laughter, and the smell of popcorn lightly permeated the air that drifted in through your open window. It was no longer raining, and the sky with its spatter of stars was once more dimly visible above the silhouettes of London in the nighttime. The mulled wine was made of elderflower and blackberries, and it had heated your cheeks and filled your head with poetry and your eyes with a mist.

Swirling the wine in your glass, you imagined this was what it would be like to live on the cusp between tragedy and comedy in a Shakespearian work.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” slipped the words of Hamlet from your lips, “doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

You sighed and wished for the night to grow day as you stared out the window, searching for planets and solar systems you knew very well could not be found by the naked eye.

The rainbow scarf warmed your skin.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Saturday, as went without saying, was characterised by a fierce headache. Again.

And with Sunday came the Sunday Blues.

Well, really, you’d had the All-Week Blues, but Sunday did not care about this; you could now add the coming week of studying and assessments to your list of worries.

You listened to Freddie’s records and mindlessly memorised every word, every line. The music was your anchor, as it had always been. But it was now more so than ever.

You hated feeling worthless, but there was nothing you could do to not feel so.

Freddie and Roger and Deacy and Brian, they had each other. They wouldn’t have missed you, you told yourself, and it was only fuel to fire that Freddie did not trust you enough to tell you what it was that was going on with him. Then there was Heather, and Heather had Roger. And then Joan— Joan had Paulie. And Kate’s friends were Amélie and Jenny. No one was yours alone.

No one was yours at all.

And the fact that Brian May so actively avoided you just proved it all— who needs you?

Who needs you, it was in his lowered eyes.

Who needs you, it was in his silence.

Who needs you, it was in your head.

It was all only in your head. But sometimes, it was difficult to discern the world from your head.

So you picked up your guitar to prove your head, the world, wrong.

The strings stung your skin, and the memory of gentle smiles ghosted along your pulse where fingers had once applied their tender touch.

Your misery rose a wave and crashed as anger.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Two more weeks cycled past on bell-less bicycles; they passed utterly without consequence.

February had yielded March, and snow had melted to an incessant rain. But the rain fostered new leaves and flowers, and turned London to all the colours of the rainbow in the glory of Spring.

It would have been pleasant, to leave classes and hurry through warm, sprinkling rain and spots of sunshine, for but the claustrophobia that the gaze of a tall and blushing young man provided you with, in every waking hour of your life, whether in person or by way of imagination.

You waited for everyone else to enter the lecture hall, hanging back so that you would be the last.

When the final dawdler had passed into the hall, you approached Brian, who, of course, was holding the door.

“Bri,” you began gently, willing him to look at you. He didn’t. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said that.” He radiated hostility, but you felt uplifted by the fact that he’d acknowledged you at all.

“I know. But I meant it. And I mean it.”

His eyes flicked over you. “We’re going to be late.”

He let go of the door.

You grasped the handle before the frame could smack you in the face. The edges of your patience were tampered with by his gaze; they had now become short and sharp.

If he was going to behave so pettily, then you would stoop to his level.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

It began as stealing Carmichael’s questions before Brian could answer them.

Then it was politely saying ‘good morning’ to everyone you encountered, except Brian.

Then you temporarily overcame your hatred for mornings in order to arrive at the lectures early, before Brian. You held the door for everyone. Until he arrived. Then you let go and went inside.

On the third morning that this occurred, Brian glared at you and you sneered back.

How quickly you had gone from friends to… to rivals was slightly disconcerting.

Freddie seemed to think so too. He invited you to rehearsal one evening, and though you clenched your jaw at having to be in the same room as Brian Harold “Petty” May, Freddie begged and pleaded and wore you down.

But when you arrived at one of Imperial College’s unused lecture halls that evening, Brian was the first person you saw, and at the sour twist of his lips, you huffed and stormed back out the door.

Freddie and John were calling after you, and you vaguely heard Roger ask Brian what the hell was wrong with him. Yet, you kept walking.

And then you ran.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

I’d had it with Brian. I really had.

So caught up in that bloody head of his, and for what? What had Y/N even said? What could have been so bad? She, like the rest of us, had naturally been worried by Brian’s disappearance, and he owed it to us, to her, to let us know that he had been at least physically all right.

I’d gotten it out of Deacs that Brian had lied to us about where he was the other week, and I’d been furious— how could he lie to us? Brian never lied.

I’d been good and well ready to knock him about a bit, that was what I’d been, and I had threatened to do just so, before Freddie materialised, as he often did, and pushed me back onto the drum stool before I could go anywhere. He demanded to know why I was so pissed off, and John explained.

Freddie frowned. “Yes, that is rather unlike him. And he’s utterly miffed, constantly. Looks about as cross as a cat caught in a rainstorm. Has done for fucking weeks.”

“Yes…” John folded his arms over his bass. “It’s got to stop. We’re not getting anything done.”

“We need to start working on the next album, and with him in this state, he won’t write anything of use,” said Freddie in agreement. “His muse is sadness, not anger.”

“That makes one of us,” I grumbled. “Gimme his guitar and I’ll write you a song, right here and now.”

“I would, darling,” Freddie sighed, “except that you’d probably destroy it, and you know he never lets it out of his sight anyway.”

“Hmph.”

Deacy ran a hand through his hair. “We have to intervene.”

“Mm,” said Freddie. “There’s only room in this band for one hysterical queen.”

“Any ideas?” Deacy asked. “Freddie?”

“Not a thing, dearie. Got enough troubles of my own, right now.”

“Rog?”

I was about to shake my head, no, when I remembered a trick I’d pulled on two of my mates back in school, years ago.

I smiled. “Oh yes. I’ve got a plan.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: I definitely wrote Joan and Paulie to resemble John Lennon and Paul McCartney, oops :)

taglist: @melting-obelisks​ @hgmercury39​  @stardust-killer-queen​  @topsecretdeacon

Masterpost / Part 6 / Part 8

#tina’s writing #starstruck #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may x y/n #brian may x you #queen #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #queen fanfiction #1975 #1970s #fic

[missjosie27]

Prompt Response #40- Ethren Whitecross

“Would it really be a crime to let yourself have some fun once in a while?”

The first in the responses for the prompts. I will say in advance that not all of this may make sense or appear ‘canon’. It’s also a sequel to ‘The Other World’ a story I wrote awhile back in honor of Ethren Whitecross. What first started out as a fun concept between two MCs, I turned into this for better or worse. And it was tough at times emotionally. But I poured my heart and soul into it. It is also non-canon and completely AU. That being said, I do love the multiverse and this was a great way to explore that.

@hogwartsmysterystory​ My friend. This is for you. And for Ethren. I hope you like it.

It had taken many moons for David Grant to achieve what was previously thought to impossible: the ability to hop dimensions at will. Since the end of the war and his mind blowing foray into the universe that housed another curse breaker, the twenty five year old not only joined the Department of Mysteries part time in addition to being reinstated as an Auror but began exploring the power of the veil for more timelines.

It was partially due to self interest, which his boss Croaker didn’t need to know about. Happy to further the Department’s investigations of the unknown magical branches, the experience of visiting another world had touched him so deeply David resolved to do more investigating: specifically if there were any other scenarios involving Ethren Whitecross in which he did not die. Despite technically never meeting the American, he already felt a sense of kinship with him, a kind of surreal connection one couldn’t explain in so many words.

He deserved better...so much better

Many months passed, but at last David was able to tinker with the magical properties of the veil so that it revealed a wondrous discovery: the cosmos was damn well infinite. Billions of people making billions of choices creating infinite earths. And it didn’t take long for him to discover a timeline in which Ethren was still alive and in Hogwarts.

“Hang on, mate. I’m coming,” he said as he stepped through, making sure his protections were sufficient to protect him from the other realm the veil lead to: death.

Of course, David had never actually met Ethren for obvious reasons and so had no idea what to expect from him. The only aspects of his life he knew for certain were that he was American, died in the war, engaged in a relationship with Merula and unknowingly had a son in the process. The other timeline’s Merula had given him more grisly details, but nothing so specific as to his personality, likes, dislikes, or anything else.

As it turned out, much to his chagrin, Ethren Whitecross was a bit sour to say the least.

He was short for a male, only 5’6 but with intense, clear blue eyes to go along with caramel brown hair and conventionally attractive features. He wasn’t terribly athletic but could swing a beater’s bat well enough. Similar to himself however, Ethren was a top notch dueler and excelled in the subjects he genuinely enjoyed, but struggling in those he did not care for. However, his less than sunny disposition was certainly off putting and it didn’t take long to figure out why.

“So let me get this straight,” Ethren said skeptically as they lay on the shores of the lake at Hogwarts. “You’re from another universe where my family never existed and in my universe your family never existed. Like me, you’re an amateur cursebreaker, date Merula, and apparently need to warn me about my impending death? Do I have everything correctly?”

“Uh, yeah that pretty much sums it up,” came the response.

Unfortunately for David, he had stumbled into a timeline where Ethren was completing his 7th year at Hogwarts as opposed to being a full grown adult. But it was just as well, finding Ethren was easy given his reputation. Getting him to believe his story was quite another debacle altogether.

“Well, guess what, you’re a bit too late. I already know I’m dying from my blood malediction and that R still wants to kill me. By the way, thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. A paper cut with lemon juice would have sufficed.”

He got up to leave but David moved to stop him.

“Wait, wait, hear me out. I can explain everything in a bit more detail.”

“Or I could go back to the library and read.”

David scoffed.

“More like you would brood all day.”

Ethren flushed from indignation.

“And how would you know that?”

“Believe me, I know enough...look I’m just trying to help.”

“My cranky on and off girlfriend is a bigger help than you’re being right now and that’s saying something.”

David took a breath of the evening Scotland air and breathed out. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy, but that last statement left an uneasy sensation in his stomach. He remembered vividly a drunken twenty six year old Merula wanted by the law while drowning herself in vodka tonics and narcissistic self loathing. He was beginning to see just how much of an emotional toll she was taking on the poor lad. So he decided to switch gears.

“Look, I have an idea. Classes are done for the day right, you’re a legal wizarding adult...come hang out with me for a couple hours.”

“I can’t leave Hogwarts,” Ethren shot back.

“Right, since when did Dumbledore’s rules ever stop us from leaving whenever we wanted?”

“Point taken but still no.”

“By God, Would it really be a crime to let yourself have fun once in a while?” David half laughed in amazement. “Trust me, let’s go have a good time and I’ll explain everything afterwards, alright?”

He didn’t think it would work given the clear suspicion still lurking in those blue eyes but to his surprise, Ethren relented and nodded.

“Fine.”

“You can apparate right?”

“Yes and I can also blow you to smithereens if you try anything funny.”

“You know part of me does want to know what would happen if we ever dueled,” David grinned. “However, I went through a war mate. Got a bit of a head start on ya.”

“Fantastic.”

“And here I thought we Brits were the uptight and sarcastic ones. Aren’t Yanks supposed to be expressive?”

Ethren simply snorted and walked past him into the open field.

“Be thankful I’m saying anything at all.”

The two young men walked until they reached the boundaries of the school just beyond the entrance, David leading the way.

“Follow my lead,” he said. “Unless you can’t keep up,” he added teasingly.

“Just go,” came the grumpy response.

Bollocks, this is going to be harder than I thought David mused to himself with exasperation

And with a loud *pop they apparated into the sunset.

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

It didn’t take long for the two to land in random cobblestone street with Ethren keeling over, grimacing severely.

“Yeah I hate apparation too,” David said, pulling out a flask and taking a sip. “You get used to it.”

“I only recently passed.”

“Fair. Which is why where I’m taking you next will simultaneously relieve that discomfort and get you to loosen up.”

Ethren looked up and saw a wooden sign in maroon lettering which read the words ‘The Mayfair.’

“A bar?”

“Never underestimate the value of a pub,” David told him sagely. And before the younger lad could object he pushed him inside the door.

Inside was a setting not altogether spectacular. There was a small dining area, a large bar that spanned about fifty feet with two bulky TVs that currently were playing the latest football matches. However there was also a small staging area that contained a microphone with another TV sitting overhead. A sizable crowd graced its floors- a hodgepodge of young professionals, crusty regulars, football fans, and those who were just looking for a good time. Which was precisely why they were there.

In his time after Hogwarts and during the war David found that muggle bars offered a lot more in terms of entertainment and alcohol: a primary factor in why he chose a casual London pub as opposed to a place like the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles also tended to write better music which was also key to this night.

“It’s a good thing we aren’t in robes,” Ethren said above the general chatter of the pub.

“I made sure your classes were over before we came here,” David replied. His own dress was unremarkable: brown leather boots, jeans, jacket, and a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt (they were the most popular band in the world in the late eighties/early nineties after all). They fit right in.

David dragged Ethren over to the counter and caught the attention of the barkeep, knowing full well that in England you never got carded for ID as they did in America.

“Two Guinnesses please.”

“You got it.”

He flipped a couple of pounds and soon enough was presented with two full tankards of the dark stout.

“Cheers, mate,” David told him, clinking his glass with Ethren’s.

The twenty five year old relished the taste but clearly his counterpart did not, grimacing as though he had swallowed stinksap.

“Dear God that’s awful. Why do you drink this stuff?”

“Keep sipping and you’ll find out,” came the cheeky reply.

Ethren merely shrugged and did his best to keep drinking. David peered around and saw the exact person he wanted to see: the DJ.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

For his part, Ethren Whitecross was highly confused by this whole affair. He still wasn’t sure he believed that this person, whoever they were, was supposedly a dimension traveler who’d apparently met another version of himself by accident. It was just too insane to believe. And yet somehow he knew details about his life that no one else popping up like that could know.

And now he wants to just drink our night away at a bar? What is this guy about?

Indeed, that appeared to be the most intriguing aspect of this. David Grant apparently not only came back to warn him but to spend time together as if they were old friends. Ethren wasn’t sure how he felt about that just yet given that R was still after him however this fellow didn’t appear to be unseemly...yet anyway. For now, he decided to keep drinking the beer, which oddly enough began to make him feel a bit warm and fuzzy in the head.

Soon enough David returned a big grin on his face.

“Finish that up soon. We’re on next.”

“Next for what?” Ethren asked, utterly nonplussed.

“My friend you are about to experience the wonders of karaoke.”

“Kara-what?”

David laughed, deep and true then drained his beer in one gulp.

“You’re about to find out.”

Ethren found himself dragged away to the staging area where they were handed two microphones and a pair of spotlights shone down on them.

“Should have asked this beforehand but how familiar are you with muggle music?”

“Umm not very?” came the unenthusiastic answer.

“Do you know ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel?”

Ethren nodded. His father kept a collection of old muggle records at home and that was a song played quite frequently sometimes to his chagrin.

“Yeah, I know that one.”

“Smashing. We’ll be just fine.”

The crowd started to cheer as the opening piano chords began to play. Ethren squirmed uncomfortably but David put a strong hand around his shoulder and began to sing in earnest. There was no backing out now.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in

There’s an old man sitting next to me

Making love to his tonic and gin”

Ethren had to admit that this stranger sang well, but he wasn’t so much of a musician himself. But he had no choice as the microphone was pressed into his face.

“He said son can you play me a melody

I’m not really sure how it goes

But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man’s clothes”

The young Gryffindor understood better why the beer was necessary. One drink already had him buzzing but it sure loosened inhibitions. Slowly he began to enjoy himself as he belted the chorus alongside David.

“Sing us the the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

To Ethren’s amazement the crowd began cheering despite the fact his pitch was probably way off. Apparently it didn't matter how good or bad you were at actualling singing, enthusiasm for the song and the camaraderie of the patrons was enough to send everyone into a frenzy. Feeding off that energy, the two young men sang into the Scotland night, following the lyrics with gusto.

“Sing us the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

The last of the harmonica sounded off into the exit riff of the piano and the song was over. Ethren could hardly believe it ended so fast, but the cheers of the crowd were practically deafening. Indeed the feeling was so exhilarating, he almost didn’t notice the shadowed face of his counterpart, lines of worry practically melting off his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only cursebreaker that had problems.

Afterwards, the two sat down and drank a few more beers, which were on the house due to their riveting performance. Several regulars gave them cheers and pats on the back. The two chatted about a number of things, but it wasn’t until they stepped outside for a breath of fresh air that the conversation turned honest and even somber.

David lit a cigarette and took a long inhale before issuing smoke.

“Told ya I knew how to have fun.”

“Maybe I wasn’t the only one in need of it,” Ethren observed astutely.

The older man shrugged but tried to play it cool.

“I’ve been through…a lot,” he said simply. “Moments like the one in the bar are the kind that kept me going over the years. It’s what makes life so wonderful even when it’s not.”

Ethren paused before asking.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty five to be exact. Twenty six in four months.”

“You look five years beyond that.”

It was blunt but David knew by now Ethren didn’t pull punches. He could relate to that. Neither did he.

“I didn’t come back merely to warn you about your malediction, Ethren,” he said quietly. “You beat that.”

“So...I die another way?”

David swallowed, feeling a lump pop up in his throat. Now was not the time to get super emotional. He needed to tell the truth.

“You have a relationship with Merula just as I do, yeah?”

“I do. Though I can’t say it’s always a happy one. We either bicker or just end up making out half the time.”

The older man chuckled sardonically, knowing full well what his wife was like when she was sixteen.

“Sounds about right. Believe me, I know how she is sometimes.”

“You’re at least eight years older than I am right now….what happened with you and her?”

David knew this was the moment he came back for. The essence of his visit.

“We married after Hogwarts. During the war, she was kidnapped by her parents and placed under the imperius curse. I was able to free her during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Ethren’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets.

“Wait, wait back up. There’s a war? Merula becomes a Death Eater?”

“Let me explain,” David said, raising his hands in the air whilst also flicking his cigarette. “Yes, You Know Who will return in four years time and begin a new war against the Ministry. And no, my wife did not become a Death Eater. She was shanghaied against her will. At that point in her life, she wanted nothing to do with her parents. Can you say the same for yours?”

Ethren’s head was practically spinning at this newfound revelation. He felt a desperate need to sit down but remained standing, running a hand through his caramel locks.

“She...she would never.”

“If you believe that, you’re wrong. If Merula doesn’t break off her toxic relationship with her parents, she’ll go right back to them once they’re freed from Azkaban.”

Denial morphed into pain as the younger man shook his head.

“Why...why would she do that?”

“You know as well as I do how badly she wants their approval and how it affects her judgement. My Merula made the right choice, but I also helped her to see what kind of path she was heading in. You must do the same.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

In a reversal of moods, David’s hazel blue eyes bore into Ethren’s crystal blue ones, hardening with each passing second, though there was still tremendous sympathy.

“I will not lie, however the answer will be difficult for you to hear. You will each find yourself on the opposite side of the coming conflict and Merula will realize her error far too late. In the end, you will sacrifice your life for hers during a great battle. And as a result, a son will never know his father.”

Tears were forming into Ethren’s eyes and David was trying his best not to do the same though it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“W-what...what should I do?”

“Guide her,” David responded softly. “Show her that there is a better way to happiness than simply attaining power. Help her to see that she can trust people unconditionally and that those people are not her parents….especially her mother,” he added with a heavy hint of disgust.

“I don’t know if I can,” the teenage Gryffindor said, his voice still wavering. “She won’t listen to me. She never has.”

“She will. I guarantee it.”

David stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ethren, embracing him in a hug while silent tears fell from his eyes.

“You can do it, Ethren. I’ve seen war, I’ve seen death, and I’ve seen a world where a family was ended before it began. Trust me when I say this, you and Merula Snyde are meant for each other for better or worse. And if I can do my part to ensure you end up happy instead of six feet under, I damn well won’t hesitate.”

They broke apart with both men wiping their eyes.

“Bloody alcohol,” David joked.

“I think I’ll hold off on any more beers.”

The older man placed a hand on Ethren’s shoulder though this time he did not hug him but instead gave a final guiding message.

“I made a promise to thank you for what you did for my wife and to honor your memory. This way, I can do both. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Now go break your malediction, defeat R, and live the life you deserve.”

Ethren nodded, finally gaining back control of his emotions but also feeling a deeper sense of purpose as well as gratitude to this stranger.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said somewhat lamely, cursing his lack of ability to express his feelings properly.

“You’ll never have to,” David responded kindly. “Consider it a favor from one friend to another.”

He released Ethren’s shoulder and nodded with a smile.

“Now let’s get you back to Hogwarts. If memory serves, I believe curfew should be soon. Don’t want Snape catching you out of bed.”

Ethren gave a smile of his own.

“Since when has Dumbledore’s rules stopped us?”

David laughed one more time before they disapparated with a small *pop.

“Never.”

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

Merula Snyde did not like feeling guilty. It was a useless emotion better left for fools who believed in sentimentality and other such nonsense. But when it came to one special boy, her heart could not help serve as a constant reminder of how much she mistreated him. Such as their fight from earlier that morning.

Working late into the night in the library, the ambitious Slytherin had poured through book after book and page after page in order to see if there was anything about maledictions they hadn’t already discovered or knew about thus far. In a sense, it was her attachment to Whitecross and their past experiences together that drove her to do as she did. There was no need to say that you cared, that’s what saving him from his blood curse was for. Even so, the young Slytherin couldn’t avoid the guilt or her memories.

“Why do you do this?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Whitecross. Spit it out.”

The Gryffindor clenched his fists but then let out a sigh and then unclenched them as they stood outside in the corridor near Charms.

“You claim you’re on my side but not once do you ever take responsibility for your own shortcomings. Nothing is ever your fault or a bad idea. Is it your job in life to torture me?”

Merula snorted as she dismissed him yet again.

“You torture yourself enough all on your own. If there was a shred of common sense in that empty head of yours, you’d acknowledge that you don’t have the bollocks to take out R same as it was with Rakepick. I’m not going to apologize for speaking the truth.”

Ethren usually swept aside her barbs no problem but this one appeared to hit home in a way her usual ones did not. He took her hand in his.

“Merula, I don’t know that I can call you my girlfriend anymore...I’m not sure what we are. But...those feelings we have won’t just go away. Why can’t you just at least pretend you care about me?”

But his appeal to her better senses fell flat as she withdrew her hand and gave a hard stare with her vivid, violet eyes.

“If you want a hug, Whitecross go to Haywood. Don’t waste my time.”

And without another word, she spun around in her combat boots and walked off not bothering to see the pained reaction on his face.

Merula clenched her jaw as the remorse became almost overwhelming. Why? Why was she like this? It wouldn’t kill her to throw the poor blighter a bone now and then, right?

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered aloud.

A second voice entered her mind, one that was hauntingly familiar.

You should know better. There are no such things as happy endings. The only person anyone can rely on is themselves….

The voice became disturbingly soothing.

You’re special my little blackbird. I will always love you

Merula resisted the urge to cry as she planted her face on one of the many books layed out in front of her. She did not care if Madam Pince yelled at her for staying too late. Wallowing within her inner demons outweighed any potential punishment.

“I never realized the true depth of your self loathing narcissism until much later in life,” spoke a voice. It frightened her so much, that she jumped at least a foot in the air and wheeled around, wand in hand.

Standing by the window of the library was a young man, light beard, longish brown hair, tall, wearing a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, brown boots, and a dark cloak. He wore his hoodie up and so could not see the face clearly. Nevertheless, she kept her wand trained on him.

“Who are you and what do you want? I promise I’m the last witch you want to mess with,” she snarled.

“My identity is inconsequential. As for what I want, I only wish to impart a gift.”

Merula did not believe a word of what this stranger said and had half a mind to hex him if it wasn’t for the fact that damaging the library in such a manner was a bannable offense.

“Whatever the intentions, you picked a really bad spot. Don’t you know where you are? Madam Pince will disembowel anyone who mucks about in here...of course she won’t have the honor of doing so before I do.”

A condescending chuckle emanated from underneath the hood.

“I have a silencing charm and a protective ward around this area. We won’t be interrupted I assure you. In any case, what I have planned isn’t going to take long.”

The teenage Slytherin silently checked the magical energies around her and realized he was right. Those kinds of wards were only the kind powerful Aurors knew or worse. All of a sudden, real fear entered Merula’s bones though she did her best to hide it.

“W-What are you going to do? What is this?”

The figure did not move, only uttering a single sentence.

“The day you finally understand.”

He was too quick for her to react properly, so fast was the draw of his wand. There was an incantation she didn’t recognize and a jet of white light that struck her in the forehead.

A swarm of images flashed through Merula’s mind and she was forced to witness every single one of them: two teenagers triumphing over an evil organization, an emotional breakup, darkness arising in the British wizarding world, an escape from Azkaban, a young woman kneeling before the Dark Lord, a night of raw passion, the birth of a child, and finally the scene of a young man with an arrow lodged in his chest, a despondent woman in Death Eater robes sobbing over the lifeless body.

‘Ethren! Ethren! ETHREN! PLEASE! DON’T GO!!!’

Then just as quickly as they came the images were gone and so was the unknown figure. Only a reeling and emotionally fragile young woman who had only one thought on her mind.

“Ethren,” she breathed out.

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

The young Gryffindor teen was slightly annoyed as Jae told him someone was waiting outside the tower for him. Who on earth was so desperate to talk to him this late at night? Did they not have the password or some other such nonsense? He wasn’t in the mood for a prank.

As he stepped past the portrait of the Fat Lady, however, his questions were answered right away as a mess of brown hair with an orange tuft slammed into him.

“What the- Merula?”

“Ethren,” she whispered as she clung to him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Utterly shocked, Ethren separated himself ever so slightly, still holding her in arms and looked into beautiful, violet eyes; eyes that were swimming with tears.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For everything...I didn’t realize...I didn’t know…”

Words failed her as she pressed her lips against his. Ethren didn’t hold back, returning the passionate kiss, long and deep. Fireworks were exploding in his mind.

When they broke apart, he saw she was still crying but there was also the same determination that sparkled in the orbs he’d come to love for better or worse.

“Things are going to be different from now on...I promise. I love you,” she said.

Ethren traced a finger along her soft, porcelain cheek, taking in the small freckles that dotted her adorable nose. He’d never felt so amazing, so enamored with the girl in front of him.

“I love you, too.”

As they embraced once more, Ethren Whitecross couldn’t help but think of the man who’d changed his life in one fell swoop. The one who’d gotten him to simultaneously sing karaoke and drink Guinness on the most memorable night of his young life. He smiled as he took in the scent of cloves, nail polish...and something elusive.

Thank you, David Grant

#hogwarts mystery #mcs #ethren whitecross #david grant #alternate universe #hphm fanfiction #hphm #gryffindor #mc x merula snyde #merula snyde #ethren x merula #gift #friends

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Blending left field jazz elements with club tropes to forge something truly new, Emma-Jean Thackray's work is never less than riveting. New album Yellow is out on July 2, with the composer commenting: “It’s a record about togetherness, the oneness of all things in the universe, showing love and kindness, human connection. I approached the record by trying to simulate a life-changing psychedelic experience, an hour where we see behind the curtain to a hidden dimension, where the physical realm melts away and we finally see that we are all one.” Set to be released via her own Movementt imprint, the album is led by gorgeous new single 'Say Something' - opening with glimmers of Rhodes piano, it leans on that hi-hat shuffle before Emma-Jean Thackray uses her voice to elevate the song. A plea towards communication, it's a powerful introduction. [via Clash]

Philadelphia punk rockers Mannequin Pussy have released the title track to Perfect, their upcoming EP due out May 21. The new song comes with a flashy music video that’s inspired by the kitschy glamor of Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion, too. Musically, 'Perfect' is a distorted blaze of rock guitars that sees vocalist-guitarist Missy eviscerating the idea that people must manicure their own social media presence. “Last year, I found myself spending more time on my phone than I ever had in my life… I realized that through years of social media training, many of us have grown this deep desire to manicure our lives to look as perfect, as aspirational as possible,” explained Missy in a statement. “We want to put ourselves out there, share our lives, our stories, our day to day — and these images and videos all shout the same thing: ‘Please look at me, please tell me I’m so perfect.’ It’s simultaneously a declaration of our confidence but edged with the desperation that seeks validation from others.” In the accompanying music video, directed by Missy, viewers get to watch as a 10-year reunion at Sugarbush High slowly unravels. It opens on three former classmates, all three of whom are pregnant, dishing some hushed gossip and talking about how they want to get plastic surgery that’s so good they mistake one another for strangers. Cue two students-turned-drag queens making a grand entrance and strutting their stuff on the dance floor (mirroring the 1997 comedy classic) while old classmates gasp, shield their eyes, and panic. Meanwhile, Mannequin Pussy can be seen tearing up the band stage while they perform live. [via Consequence]

Following the release of her debut EP I Can’t Cry For You in December, Manchester’s Phoebe Green is back with new bop ‘IDK’. “[It] explores a complete detachment from reality, observing things from a place of total apathy and feeling as though I’m witnessing my life as a bystander with little to no connection to it,” Phoebe explains. “It’s a horrible state to be in, I think it happens when I get overwhelmed.” [via DIY]

Fast-rising French-Korean artist spill tab is unveiling her latest mesmerising single ‘Anybody Else’. Accompanied by a new vid directed by friend and collaborator Jade Sadler, spill tab says, “This song is cheesy as fuck but I love it, it’s pretty straight forward, a little shameless - the lyrics are sort of a way of expressing my love without openly saying I love you. Jade Sadler (the video director) and I just wanted to have a shit ton of fun on this one. We thought about something with narrative or plot and it was just getting to be too corny. I wanted something lighthearted and playful, so we decided we would have all of our homies in this video paired with different colors and angles and set designs. I’m so excited with the way it turned out.” [via DIY]

Willow Kayne has shared her debut single 'Two Seater'. The Gen Z talent links together huge opposing forces, creating her own potent brand of rebel-pop. New single 'Two Seater' finds Willow blazing a trail, upending convention through melding together differing sounds. The lush, 90s inspired soundscape leans on nostalgic impulses, but her punk-like disregard for convention is sheer pop futurism. Produced by DANIO, it finds Willow Kayne coming into her own completely off the bat. [via Clash]

BENEE has shared a video for her single ‘Happen To Me’. It’s the latest cut from her debut album, Hey u x, which arrived last November featuring guest spots from the likes of Grimes, Lily Allen and Flo Milli. “This song is super important to me,” she says. “It’s the opening track [on the album]. It’s the first song where I’ve written about anxiety. The lyrics are pretty dark. Life is pretty crazy right now, and I think it’s important to talk about this kind of stuff.” Of the video, she adds: “Stoked to be sharing this music video with everyone! I filmed it with a bunch of mates, and it was the coolest set! Hope you love it as much as I do.” [via Dork]

Los Angeles-based art-pop artist Kit Major has shared the music video for 'When the Drugs Don't Work,' a more introspective stab at her signature dark, electropop sound. Blending driving dance beats and thumping hyperpop-influenced synths, Kit Major creates an intoxicating elixir of soundbites and grit. Taking inspiration from Charli XCX, Billie Eilish, and Charlotte Lawrence, 'When the Drugs Don't Work' dives into the overwhelming vulnerability and panic of failing to curb a depressive episode with medication. With this release, Kit Major furthers her efforts to be open and make light of her mental health struggles. On the video, Kit Major shares, "'When The Drugs Don't Work' was filmed in one weekend, directed by my best friend in my departed grandparents' now empty house. We filmed this in quarantine without a crew and worked to create a dark & twisted fairytale together. When I first started thinking about the video, I knew I wanted a more lighthearted take to balance the darker theme of my mental health in the song. I wrote the lyric, “little princess hurt locked away inside her palace,” because sometimes when I'm isolated in my room I visualize myself as a Disney princess running inside her castle, instead of being in my bed, surrounded by empty water bottles. This song was written from a mix of different perspectives including my own, my persona, and outside voices. I think we accomplished the storytelling behind WTDDW by portraying the importance of imagination and trusting yourself."  Alongside, director Noël Dombroski adds, "WDDW is a raw, introspective song from Kit that shines a light on parts of herself that at times may be hard to face. We were lucky enough to be able to shoot at Kit's late grandparents' house, an emotionally significant location that acts in the video as the inside of Kit's head. We wanted to challenge viewers to look at every facet of themselves and realize that each part is valuable, even if you may not like it. A conversation we had a lot was about the color scene, where the image of Kit is being pulled apart by color channels. You may hate one of those colors, but you still need it to create that full image. The same can sometimes be said about depression - it may be a layer of yourself that you don't care for, but without that experience, I don't know that WDDW could exist." The music video dives into the psychological turmoil at the heart of the track with a hyperstylized touch. Spotlights wander through a funhouse version of Kit's childhood home, hunting down our protagonist, who we find trapped behind bars, downing teardrops from teacups and champagne from the bottle. Simultaneously unnerving and stimulating in a Paranormal Activity-meets Alice in Wonderland aestheticism, the music video for 'When the Drugs Don't Work' dives into the floating images of a mental breakdown with a fever dream lucidity.

Number One Popstar continues to prove herself as a powerhouse, shaking up the music world with her fresh, unapologetic beats. This week, she shares another one, her new single 'Forever 21.' And no, it’s not about clothes. 'Forever 21' begins with a kicking beat, but subdued with reflective, twinkly keys. It’s a perfect mix of existential dread and dance. Carrying this vibe throughout, it breaks in between with a beaming guitar-driven bridge. Lyrically, the track makes us question why brands and media make it seem like our twenties are our prime, when we still have our whole lives ahead of us? Despite the effervescent pop sound, Hollowell got vulnerable about her past and its effect on the song, saying, "I initially started writing 'Forever 21' when I found myself looking back on my early 20’s, wanting to recapture the hopeful and dumb feelings of my youth. But the longer I spent on the song, the more it became a reflection of the loss I faced when my parents passed away in my early 20s. I started looking at my own fear of death, of dying like them. I really didn’t know where my life was headed back then. […] I eventually turned that painful experience into a motivation to go after everything I wanted in life. To be seriously less serious, recognizing everything is fleeting.” Like her other music videos, Hollowell likes to flip popular culture and societal expetations on their head. While also bringing the fear of aging to life, she also reminds audiences to stay present instead of holding on to youth. [via Earmilk]

Following in the footsteps of Prince and Lizzo, Dizzy Fae is set to become the Twin Cities’ next pop sensation. She just dropped her brand new track, 'BODY MOVE', and much like the name suggests, it will make you want to move. Self-described as alternative R&B, Fae takes a few notes from contemporary hyperpop artists like Charli XCX and Doja Cat with an industrial iciness that plays off the technicolor pop melodies. It’s an influence you can hear on 'BODY MOVE', produced by New York’s Stelios (Young Thug, SZA). The track builds itself off a snappy, rubber band bass line indebted to pop’s recent disco revival. “It’d be so cruel if I didn’t let my body move,” Fea’s voice loops through a robotic filter. A buzzing drum machines barrels in at the chorus, transforming the lightly retro groove to a futuristic club track more akin to the production styles of 100 gecs. But for all the modern influences, the Ying Yang Twins reference shows she’s a student of all types of music. [via Consequence]

Technically, 'Your Power' is not the lead single from Billie Eilish’s newly announced album Happier Than Ever. The album includes two songs she released last year: the jazzy, well received ballad 'my future' and the contemptuous multi-format radio hit 'Therefore I Am.' However, 'Your Power' is the first song Eilish has released since announcing the new album, debuting her new look, and officially commencing her LP2 era, so there’s definitely a deep sense of anticipations around the song. Eilish teased 'Your Power' this week with a brief sound snippet featuring acoustic guitar and the words “Try not to use your power” sung to a Feist-y melody. Now the full song and its Eilish-directed music video have arrived. The completed record remains as soft, pretty, and devastatingly sad as the preview audio. In the clip, a slow pan across a mountainside in the Simi Valley reveals Eilish in the clutches of a gigantic snake. (A press release specifies that it’s an 80-pound anaconda.) [via Stereogum]

#videos of the week #emma-jean thackray #mannequin pussy #phoebe green #spill tab #willow kayne #benee #kit major #number one popstar #dizzy fae #billie eilish

[pickybearcub]

Getting to know Spiderboy: Chapter 16

Pairing: Peter Parker x OC (platonic) Genre: Friendship/ Adventure/ Family Story summary: Ten minutes. Ten minutes was all it took. She found his backpack in the alley and left before he got there. Now, before Peter knows it, Ned thinks he has a secret girlfriend and Spiderman has to be her kibble runner.

A/N: Flashback chapter. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

Catch up here

Manhattan - 1920′s

Renny couldn't believe it. It worked. It really worked.

Looking at a newspaper didn't really yield anything other than reiterate that she was in 1927.

"From a parallel world, you say?" The question was voiced in modulated tones. "And you believed it best to seek me out?"

Renny just nodded. She still couldn't believe it worked- what she did to get here. It was laughably simple.

If she really was in the Marvel universe, another prominent character in existence during this time would probably be Howard Stark. However, like Bucky and Steve, he would also still be a child. Approaching any one of them was out of the question. Their parents would never let them interact with some strange homeless urchin. She was a fifteen-year-old street girl with no connections whatsoever. For the past month, she'd done all she could to get some kind of job or something- to no avail. Her chance of survival if she continued to try to fend for herself was slim to none.

Who would be willing to house a teenager who had no records? Of course, she couldn't pull out a school ID card! The year on it alone would bring up questions. Who could she talk to without them immediately concluding that she was crazy and off her rocker? Someone who believed in parallel worlds and alternate dimensions, possibly magic and the manipulation of time...

She took a chance and went to New York City. It was 1927. Did the place even exist here yet?...

 177A Bleecker Street

 To her amazement and sheer relief, it was there. She was frozen in front of the building for several long moments as she took it in. The large, round glass window she could see on the upper floor. The distinct crisscrossing lines of bronze on glass were the most solid evidence of her bizarre situation that she could find so far. Taking a deep breath before she walked up the steps, she knocked on the door. Hesitant the first few times, but giving two solid knocks at the end.

Her voice was so soft, but she didn't want to seem crazy to the passersby on the street who might hear her. "I need to speak with the Ancient One." When nothing happened for a minute, she added a little more desperately, "Please." She breathed, "Please."

When sparks forced a circle beneath her feet, she held her breath and clenched her eyes shut, anticipating to fall like Loki, but there was only a rush of air and her feet never left the ground.

"You can open your eyes now." The voice was gentle.

Renny obeyed and found herself face to face with the Ancient one.

It was strange, sipping at tea while spilling her story to the woman in front of her. There was no one else in the receiving room while she talked.

"You say you come from a world that knows this world's future. How can you validate this?" The Ancient one asked at the end of Renny's tale.

"I… Can't you look into my memories or something?" The girl asked. "The things I know, the things I've seen… they won't happen for a long time yet. Years."

The woman hummed. She was familiar with the burden of knowing the future. She could look into it after all. "I could… but if what you say is true. It would be dangerous. Knowledge of the future is not something just anyone should have."

The little one, if she was telling the truth, knew things beyond even what she could see. Things that even the Sorcerer Supreme was not supposed to know. Also, in all her visions, she had never seen this girl.

Renny nodded, realizing the fault in her suggestion. She thought again… before remembering something. She gulped nervously.

"If I told you something… Something that no one knows but you. Would it help?" The young girl said carefully.

The Ancient One eyed her. Those pale eyes were assessing her, making her shiver. "It would…"

Renny looked around, feeling paranoid that someone was listening in on them. The Ancient One smiled. "There is no one who will hear," she assured.

The girl took a deep breath. "You're old… No one really knows how old you are or how many centuries you've lived. The reason you've lived for so long... The reason you're immortal… is because you draw your power from the dark dimension."

The woman's smile turned into a blank expression. "Have you come here to blackmail me with this knowledge and your knowledge of the future?"

"NO! That's not it!" Renny gasped and put her hands up. After a moment, she sat down, shoulders slightly hunched and her eyes downcast. "The whole time I was wandering the streets of Brooklyn, I thought that God made a mistake sending me back in time. I didn't have any idea what I was supposed to do. So I spent a month just wandering like a hobo. The day I met that little boy… Meeting Bucky changed everything…" She paused and took a breath.

"When I learned the truth of where I was, I found a purpose. I know all these things about the future. So far in the future that I'll probably die before I see anything happen." She straightened then, "I might be here because I need the time. I went looking for you because I think you're the one person who can help me. You're my best chance at preparing."

The Ancient One tilted her head in curiosity. "Preparing for what?"

Renny did her best to match the intensity of the woman's gaze, her own having the fire of determination.

"The future."

The Ancient one was not sure what to make of the girl who knocked at the door of the New York sanctum. However, she recognized the fire in the little one's eyes, her sense of purpose, her will to protect, and the sincerity of her words.

Though the Sorcerer Supreme did not fully believe the girl's story, she sensed her potential and grim determination. Other than that, in all her visions of the potential futures she did see, she had not once seen this girl. It was strange and intriguing. And of course, it was best to keep a close eye on.

Which is why the Ancient One decided to train Renny. The girl would be one of the youngest to start.

That was how the Sorcerer Supreme got her first potential proof of the girl's story.

The little one had an affinity for magic that was almost unnatural… rather, it was too natural. She immediately grasped the use of the sling ring to open portals, which often took even the best novice at least a few tries.

When it came to spells- harnessing the power from other dimensions to make magic… It was apparent that she drew in too much power. Like a raging river without a dam, it rushed through her body without any control. All sorcerers in Kamar Taj conjured spells that produced an orange, even golden glow. When the girl used magic, the sparks and arcane circles burned a bright white- a so-called combination of all colors. 

Renny's first attempt at a simple shielding spell almost killed her and the backlash injured several other novices and the instructor in her class.

When the Ancient One assessed the state of the girl, she was surprised to discover how easily any extra-dimensional power flowed through her. Even she as the Sorcerer Supreme had to exert conscious effort, however minimal, to pull power from other worlds. The little one attracted power to her, even unconscious.

This was why the Ancient One had searched through the artifacts and relics within Kamar Taj, as well as the sanctums, to find something to help the girl control the flow.

One week later, Renny had woken up in her assigned room with a pair of wide bronze cuffs on her forearms.

"I am glad to see you are awake." The Ancient One looked at her kindly, though her smile was a bit grim.

Renny sat up with some difficulty, her entire body feeling quite sore. "What happened?" She croaked, worry growing in her chest when she saw the woman's expression.

"Magical backlash. You nearly killed yourself and hurt several others."

"How?" The girl asked, scared and bewildered. "It was just my first try. I shouldn't have been able to use that much power… And I was perfectly fine with making portals with a sling ring, what was different?"

The Ancient One sighed, nodding at the other robed figure in the room. When the other person left and the door clicked shut, she turned back to the girl.

"I did not truly believe you at first… but… this incident may have helped to prove that you did come from another world."

Renny opened her mouth to say something, but the woman continued.

"You said that you are not sure how you were pulled into this one."

The girl shook her head, "No..."

The Sorcerer Supreme took a few steps toward the window in the room, looking out at the mountains of Tibet. "I believe that however you came to be here exposed you to the energies of numerous other worlds. That exposure altered your body's magical pathways to let them flow through you easily. This means that you also unconsciously pull in these energies to yourself. The forceful and abrupt change broke nearly every natural magical barrier in your body."

Renny ran her fingers over the wide metal bands on her arms, "Are these going to help?" Her voice cracked with nerves.

"Yes, little one. An artifact of Kamar Taj, the Vambraces of the Vishanti. To answer your previous question. When conjuring portals, the use of the sling ring helps to control and focus your magic for the one, specific purpose of conjuring a gateway. However, when it came to trying your first spell, you only had your body as a medium. You did not use any magical tool or artifact to assist you."

Renny nodded, getting the gist of it. The Ancient One continued.

"These vambraces control how much or how little magical energy enters your body. Unfortunately, until you learn to adjust the potency of the artifact, they currently block all magic. You will need to learn to modulate the energies you pull to yourself. It will be tedious, but you must find a way."

"It's that bad?" The girl gulped.

The Ancient One nodded solemnly. "You either learn and someday even part from the artifact, or you don't use magic at all and cut yourself off from any mystical energy, lest it slowly kills you."

The woman sighed and stepped closer to the girl's bed. "That much power, allowing it to flow in your body without modulation- the magical buildup within you will heal any injuries you obtain. It will most likely keep you from getting ill as well… However, it will make your body weak."

Renny blinked, the time she had spent on the streets before Kamar Taj coming to mind. Then, even when she had experienced a night of bone-chilling cold, or gotten soaked by the rain, she never got sick. But… there were times when she felt like she had no energy at all, or slept so long and so deeply and still felt somewhat tired afterward.

"The use of the artifact will at least give your body moments of respite from these energies. I am not sure… but depending on the way you find to control it, it can either mean a shortened lifespan or a lengthened one." The Ancient One intoned, pausing for a moment before she asked, "While you are still learning, however, you will increase the possibility of more incidents like this. It may very well kill you. Will you continue on your quest to master magic?"

The girl remained quiet and looked down at the grooves of the vambraces on her arm, tracing them with a finger. "Yes." Renny chuckled forlornly before again looking at the Ancient One, "When can I get back to training?"

Spirit. This girl definitely had spirit.

"Tomorrow. If you feel you are up to it."

Renny nodded firmly, a determined yet somewhat grim smile on her face.

So Renny continued her training in Kamar-Taj. She exercised her body practicing her martial arts with the other students, but when it came to the mystic arts, the Ancient One would take her on whenever she could.

The woman would let the girl practice only in the mirror dimension, where any backlash would not hurt others, except maybe, the girl herself. However, because the Sorcerer Supreme was such a prominent figure, she could not let Renny monopolize her time, no matter how much the woman wanted to help. So their one-on-one sessions were a bit limited. More often than not, Renny found herself alone in an isolated courtyard in the mirror dimension when a master was not free to offer their guidance in place of the Ancient One herself.

Renny's first few years in Tibet were the hardest. Learning to control the Vambraces of Vishanti was taxing on her body. Her first months were spent in and out of the infirmary, with days, even weeks unconscious, depending on the extent of another incident of magical backlash. It was only after almost a year of tedious training that she gained control of the artifact enough to allow a trickle of extra-dimensional energy in without completely deactivating the artifact or letting too much magic in that would cause herself harm. She could perform spells now, though her range was very much limited.

She still grew tired easily, though not as much as before, so she spent her downtime in the library, scouring for the spells she would need for the plan that she had formed.

When her control on the vambraces grew strong enough, she discovered she could now access the astral dimension. Using a trick she learned from Dr. Strange, she studied in her astral form while her body rested.

"You are advancing much in your studies, little one. And your grasp on the mystical arts continues to improve slowly but surely." The Ancient One said calmly as the two sipped tea in the receiving room of Kamar-Taj.

"I'm not such a little one anymore." Renny chuckled, running a hand through her much longer hair, before sighing. "I've really learned a lot here, and I thank you, but I've only found clues to what I need."

The woman looked at her curiously. "Oh? You've read through almost every book in the library."

"Not every book…" Renny answered softly. The woman looked at her slyly, and the girl knew that the Sorcerer Supreme knew what she was looking for. "The Book of the Vishanti."

The Ancient One looked at Renny sternly, placing down her cup of tea.

"I know it's a big request. But I think it might have the answers I need. The spells I need." Renny tried.

"The book has been passed down through generations of mages, even once possessed by the god Marduk before I became its keeper. What makes you think that I will allow you to simply browse it? In the years that you have spent as a sorcerer of Kamar-Taj, you have proven your loyalty and your desire to protect this world… but you have never told me of your plans in depth. Do not think I am ignorant of the time you have spent in the mirror dimension experimenting with runes and trying to create your own spellwork in secret."

Renny fidgeted, a little cowed by the Ancient One's tone. That was true… She'd never told anyone of her plans because of the thought of someone finding out what she knew.

But… she looked at the woman sitting in front of her. The Ancient One had trusted her and helped her every step of the way. Gifting her with the Vambraces of Vishanti, granting her asylum in Kamar-Taj and even training in the mystic arts.

"You are afraid…" The woman stated plainly.

"Yes." The girl whispered and took a deep breath… If she couldn't trust the Ancient One, who could she trust? She could not do this alone. "If I show you what I know, at least part of it… If I can convince you of my intentions… Will you help me?"

The Sorcerer Supreme looked to be deep in thought. She knew how the weight of knowing anything about the future was always burdensome. The girl was also terrified of letting anyone else know of her knowledge. Whatever she saw… it would burden her as well. Even more so as it was likely something beyond her scope of vision.

"Very well…" The woman conceded. "Know, however, that if I sense that anything is amiss, if I find out that you are untruthful, you will never ask about the book again."

Renny gulped. "Agreed."

---

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#Getting to know spiderboy #peter parker #peter parker x oc #tom holland #tom holland x oc #spiderman #homecoming #magic #sorcery #doctor strange #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #friendship #adventure #family #sorcerer supreme #ancient one #tilda swinton #kamar taj #manhattan

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Snipets of a Red Ranger and Blue Ranger- Klance Week Day 4

I’m a simple girl, I see ‘Rangers’ I think Power Rangers and I am not sorry. And yes, it’s Samurai Rangers, I liked the season, sue me. @klanceweek​ Rangers, Cow, Lawless

Lance was restringing his bow, trying to tighten it without it snapping, which it had already done twice. Usually he wasn’t so distracted but he had a good excuse. What else was he supposed to do when he found out one of the biggest secrets the Red Samurais were hiding?

There was no easy was to explain his unique family line other than that they were the longest line of Power Rangers that existed. The appearance of some other Rangers, who hoped from the future to the past, had unintentionally unleashed another dimension filled with monsters known as Galra. Their world, the Netherworld, sat on the bank of the Sanzu River, water capable of destroying everything. A lord and his band of samurai went against these creatures and through their perseverance and using written talismans, they accessed the Morphing Grid, giving them the look and protection of the Ranger uniform and turning the talismans to Symbol Power. When the era of samurai ended, the lord made the samurai his retainers. And so, as time passed, the children would take their families place when it came time, defending their home. When the Red Ranger had first discovered a symbol to seal the Galra away, he was able to do so, allowing the group to split up and live not fighting for their lives.

They all eventually led back together back when his dad was his age. The seal had been cast again at the cost of the Red Ranger’s life, but it wasn’t strong enough. It became the next generations’ job to end this 19-generation long war. Lance didn’t think he’d be the one to be doing it. His main focus was to become one of the first biracial members of the Japanese Olympic archery team. He was close to, until every one of his siblings decided what they wanted mattered more and dumped the youngest with the responsibilities. His father tried to force him by stating that the Dragon Origami would only listen to Lance, but he that was a lie. Everyone else got off but because he was the last one, he had to obey orders. He put up a good fight, staying away from his family and proving himself to be Olympic material. But the seal officially broke the day of his biggest competition and even when he ignored the summons arrow, Lance was kidnapped by the Kuroko, the shadows who served the samurai families, and thrown into a car. He might not have wanted to be there, but he wasn’t an asshole who would walk away when people needed help. He did make his position very clear, his father had to get one of his siblings to take his place because he wouldn’t stay.

Once everyone heard his whole story, they were mostly understanding, including their leader Keith. Hearing him promise to talk to his dad almost seemed too good to be true but he’d heard him calling his dad. Then it made sense when Allura told him the big secret.

Keith, wasn’t born into the Red Ranger line, because the pervious Red and Pink ranger did the biggest no-no. they had a kid together. to make sure there was always a Ranger from each family line, they were instructed to not fall in love with one of their teammates. Keith was actually the kid of a Kuroko that somehow had caused the Lion Origami to react to him. Allura was technically the Red Ranger who could cast the Sealing Symbol. Her weekend shopping trips, were actually trips to a secret temple where ancestors of the same people who helped their lord discover the Sealing Symbol would teach it to her until it was perfect.

Keith was willing to help him, because technically he wasn’t supposed to be doing this either. He was just a stand in until the time was right. Lance still didn’t know what to do with this information. He was glad they trusted him with it, but it was only cause they all thought he’d be leaving.

“Lance?” Keith called from the other side of the door as he knocked. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Keith came in, closing the door behind him. He dropped down on Lance’s bed, looking at the mess of the low table that was covered in archery care stuff. “Guess I know why you disappeared after we got back from the baseball game.”

“It was a little league game and baseball makes no sense.” Lance threw out, feeling tense. He knew why Keith was here.

“So, Allura told me she talked to you when you guys were keeping an eye on the kid’s house.”

“Yeah, talked.”

Keith always looked so self-assured and confident, that to see him so unsure and nervous was weird.

“I hope your not upset that I’m doing this for Allura. My father was killed during a Galra attack and he was getting civilians out of harms way. Allura’s dad took me in, even when everyone said I wasn’t worth it. They kept pushing him to marry someone so he’d have a kid to carry on the Red line, but even knowing that it would be Allura, he still treated me like I was his kid. So, I don’t mind being a stand in for her. If it mostly keeps her safe, then I’ll do it.”

Lance let out a huff. “Wish my siblings cared that much. You’d give up everything to help her but everyone expects me to drop everything to make them happy. I won’t say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know. I get why you want to leave, but the Blue line is usually the second in command and in my opinion, someone who’d still help even when he wants a way out is a pretty worthy.”

Lance was honoured. How was he supposed to still act like a spoiled child when someone who didn’t even have to led a team and take the most hits did?

“Thanks for the compliment but,” he said instead, plucking at the string on his bow, “the Olympics are waiting for me.”

“Fair enough. And thank you for keeping this secret. We’ll tell them eventually.”

“They’ll understand.” Lance reassured. He was sure they would. It would be the 4 of them against everything. He just wished he’d be there to help if it went badly.

                                                    __________

Getting mind controlled was not fun. Just that morning things were going great. He and Keith had a sparing match and he was so close to actually beating Keith and Keith told him his dad would finally come to the Samurai House and talk. Then that annoying big talking mind controlling Galra made a mess of everything. All it took was a hit and he became a mindless drone who turned his sword against his friends. He was lucky Keith was able to snap him out of it with that burst of Symbol Power but his dad thought it was a glaring sign that he needed to stay with the team. So, he might have been thinking of maybe staying but he wanted it to be his choice, not forced by his dad. And now his head hurt more.

“Lance?”

“Come in.” he called, keeping his arm over his eyes.

He heard Keith turn the light off before he felt him tap at his arm to move it. He let out a grateful groan when he felt an ice pack drop on his face.

“I’m sorry things didn’t go well with your dad.” Keith said, the bed dipping as he sat down.

“You know, I’ve actually considered staying.” Keith stilled but stayed silent, letting Lance continue. “My whole life I’ve always been the scapegoat or had things taken just to satisfy the older ones. Much as I want to, I can’t be too mad at Marco and Veronica, they had good reasons. Everyone else, not so much. I just want one major decision in my life to be made by me.”

That sat in silence as Lance calmed down and hoped his head would stop hurting before Keith asked something.

“If you do decide to stay, would you consider being my second in command?”

Lance laid there, trying to decided if Keith was serious just from his voice alone. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s fine. Do you want me to go?”

And leave him stewing in thoughts he didn’t want to hear? Not a chance.

“Tell me about your dad.” It was the first thing that came to mind and for a moment he was gonna take it back when Keith started talking.

“He was probably one of the only Kuroko who couldn’t cook.”

                                                   ___________

In a turn of events, Lance knocked on Keith’s door. The fight against the half Galra Lotor was finally over and they were getting closer to defeating them. They’d see how much farther they could go once Shiro was able to unlock the Black Box, but for now, while Keith recovered, they could breath.

“Come in.” Lance opened the door, his eyes drawn to Keith’s exposed back as he struggled to pull his shirt off. It was getting harder and harder to not get a crush on Keith. He had to keep reminding himself that it was what got Allura’s parents into trouble in the first place. He was starting to see why they had the problem in the first place. How was he supposed to stop how he felt?

“Need help?” Lance offered.

“Sure, second-in-command.”

At dinner, he announced he’d stay with the team and publicly accepted Keith’s offer.

He was able to get Keith’s shirt off without aggravating his wounded arm too much. The view of his chest was distracting.

“I’m glad you decided to stay.” Keith said, pulling his eyes up. “It would have been hard to form the same bond with one of your siblings.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I did too. Finally feels like I can make my own decisions and not get looked down at.”

“You? Never?”

God, it was the compliments, it had to be. How else would he feel like a shy person when around Keith at times? They stood there, staring at each other when Lance couldn’t take it anymore. He kissed Keith. Keith didn’t push him away, if anything, he tried to pull him closer as he kissed back. Lance was careful as he rested his hands on Keith’s neck, not wanting to pull away when he did.

“We shouldn’t.”

“We really shouldn’t.” Keith said, using a finger to pull Lance back in and kiss him again.

This was so against the rules. Then…why did it feel so right?

                                               _______________

Lance was getting ready for bed when a quite knock came to his door. Keith slipped in when Lance opened the door. The hallway was already dark and Lance would bet that Coran would be by any minute to come check on them.

“Hi.” Keith said.

“Hey.”

The air was slightly tense. It wasn’t because of all those secret kisses and hard to keep promises about waiting until the war was over. It was what happened on that island. A small island an hour’s boat ride away that had cut off contact with the outside world because a Galra had burned a fear making talisman. The new addition to Zarkon’s crew, Sendak, had invited a Galra who believed in the blaster as opposed to the sword. It was like watching the era of samurai die, but thankfully Bandor, the same kid who led them to discover the hidden Bull Origami, had created a blaster to use with their swords. At the sight of Lotor still alive and standing had pushed Keith into overdrive. The fight had been bad and Keith got hurt. Words that Lotor said about Keith being just like him had gotten to him. Lance considered them lucky he was able to find them after Keith took off. Things were tense when the whole fight was over and they hadn’t talk anything out.

“Here.” Keith handed him a bag from LOFT. In it, was a lightweight scarf. Similar to the one Lance gave Keith as a makeshift sling and that he dropped when he went after Lotor. “I know it’s not the same colour but…”

It was red, close to the red Keith’s favourite jacket was. It was a claim and an apology.

“I shouldn’t have run off and I should have listened to you. You were right, I’m not like him, but the thing is…he’s kinda right.”

“What do you mean? Keith you can’t actually think that you care more about fighting than anything else.”

“It’s not that.” Keith started to look how he did when he first came to talk to Lance about the big secret involving him and Allura. “It’s more than just how we see fighting. It’s…down to our biology. He might have given his soul to become who he is, but…I was born like that.”

“What are you saying?”

“Lance…I’m half Galra. That’s why I kept taking Lotor’s words to heart. I didn’t want to be like him, lusting for battle.”

Half Galra? Like Lotor?

“But Coran said the House is warded against Galra. How are you not hurting right now?”

“It’s for full blooded Galra. That’s another reason most of the people who were here during your dad’s time didn’t like me. My dad was ‘spellbound’ by a female Galra. Somehow, they had be and she gave me to my dad to keep me safe.” He put spellbound in air quotes. “My dad wasn’t spellbound. My mom didn’t follow under Zarkon’s control and was actively looking for a way to be human. I don’t know what happened to her, just that I wanted to be the same kind Galra she had to be for my dad to fall in love with her. But Lotor’s words-”

“were wrong.” He should so be paying attention to what Keith said. He was half Galra, like Lotor, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The guy in front of him was Keith, his leader and the guy he liked. He fought like hell for his team and he deserved nothing less than his support. “The only thing you share in common with that guy is being half Galra. But you’re living proof that you don’t live in obsession.”

“Well, I do have one obsession.”

Lance looked confused when he realised what Keith was talking about and went red. “Oh, you mean me. Well, can’t blame your good taste. Just know that Lotor is wrong about you. When you tell the others, they’ll see that.”

Keith gave Lance a thankful smile before leaning up to kiss him.

“I thought we said no more until after the war?” Lance said, though he just wanted to pull Keith back for more.

“How am I supposed to wait when I have the best thing here? It’s starting to become hard to not kiss you all the time.”

“Good, I’m not the only one.” Lance said, capturing Keith’s lips again.

After the war, after he told his secrets, whatever. Lance knew what his next big life decision was. To stand next to Keith for as long as he could.

#klanceweek #power rangers au #samurai rangers au #red ranger keith #blue ranger lance #lance does archery #lance and his family don't get along

[tiffgeorgina]

alright trailer thoughts

watch it here slutties: https://twitter.com/SHOBlackMonday/status/1216778009044291585

1) HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT’S HERE THIS FEELS SURREAL

2) HOLYYY SHITTTT

3) but actually let’s get it. this song bangs showtime stays on their excellent editing.

4) trying to analyze showtime’s trailers is like trying to grab smoke so this is going to be extremely barebones for a while. 

5) somebody drives off with the busted up limbo, but we can’t tell who it is yet bc their face never comes into view. they’re wearing a gray suit tho, so it may become more obvious who it is once the episode itself is out.

6) mo is being dramatic asf which as of 1x10 is perfectly in character lmfao

7) bro what the FUCK did you do to your hair i gotta ask fuck the 80s. also there’s this character on IMDb tagged “Vanessa (hair like mo)” so that makes more sense now maybe?

8) establishing shots that almost make me think mo is hiding out in california. since we know his orphanage story is bullshit, maybe he’s visiting family? maybe this is where that marcus wainright iii character comes in? since i dont think he’s in the trailer?

9) keith is living. almost has out-of-the-closet energy. i bet that scene of him roller skating is either after a) he comes out to his wife and divorces her or b) he gets a call from mo and flies straight out to cali to meet up with him.

10) the editing is so good you guys holy shit they jsut never quit over there do they?

11) a shot of mo in some suburb. could be a family member or a friend’s house? which again leads me to think he’s in california.

12) there’s this TV show called “America’s Most Unsolved Crimes” that mo shows up on bc he’s being solely blamed for the crash. how dawn and blair managed to avoid any blame whatsoever is beyond me, but mo is an excellent scapegoat since he confessed on record. no idea who the guy sitting on the desk talking about him is tho, since he wasn’t announced as one of the new guest stars. probably just a one off. maybe this is where “reenactment dawn” comes in from the IMDb page?

13) mo is bringing back the 70s and i do not like it. when i said the 80s were cool bc nobody knew how to dress themselves This Is Not What I Meant.

14) he wouldn’t just casually play basketball with some random kids, these are probably either his cousins or his nephews or the kids of a friend. again leads me to believe he’s in california, possibly visiting marcus? it would make sense. either that or we finally get some real concrete background on mo that isn’t total bullshit.

15) keith is in contact with mo. it’s hard to tell if keith went to cali to see mo or if mo came to NY seeing as both are extremely suspicious. assuming mo is in cali that is. keith is definitely going to get mo back in the game. speaking of mo, this entire first 30 seconds is Mo-centric, so i bet mo’s arc is going to be plottier than blair or dawn’s in 1“A” (showtime doesn’t really have A and B arcs for this show bc there’s no midseason hiatus i just like the terminology)

16) throwback thursday lmfao

17) no idea who this guy shooting/probably fake shooting is?? like no idea. could be nothing of importance and just a transition filler/tone setting moment.

18) the heat is on motherfucker! let’s get this cat and mouse shit im ready for it!

19) here we go here’s dawn. back at the jammer group. back at DAWN AS THE PRESIDENT HIRING A BUNCH OF WOMEN???????? BIIIIIITTTTCCCCHHHH I LOVE TO SEE IT. INCLUDING DEANNA CHENG (she’s friends with casey which means she’s friends with half the cast we should’ve known she wasn’t going anywhere) AKA THE SALES CLERK WHO HARASSED DAWN IN 1X02????? YES BITHC

20) then wayne and yassir fucking it up (nice facial hair wayne it’s hideous kjsfkjdhg) and the women throwing paper at him??? LKJRHGKLJSERH????

21) blair and tiff dressed up??? guys. they’re going to some rich people gala thing. this is what i was talkinf about. im almost certain this is how blair and harris meet. their wives are gonna see each other after not having spoken in years bc of whatever but they used to be friends so they go to talk and the husbands and dragged along and *closet case to closet case communication sounds*

22) ok now BLAIR’S on the exercise craze? i thought that was just gonna be dawn like in s1 also how long is this exercise montage in the show bc there are some things a god fearing lesbian shouldn’t have to see. this weird mirror talking shit feels like voyeurism from this perspective i feel like i shouldn’t be seeing this.

23) she’s still topping him??? after all that??? aight yk it’s part of the dynamic

24) tiff is wearing the same dress in “you do, hunk” as she is in the bit where they get out of the limo and deal with the paparazzi so i presume that workout scene is immediately before that gala thing im establishing a #timeline

25) the skants reveal??? we call that PLOT DEVELOPMENT i love a good callback to the first season

26) the shocked gasp i can’t tell if it’s good or bad. also does this mean tiff’s starting her own company? since georgina is liquid?

27) larry telling dawn that mo’s on his way back for revenge? spliced with mo staring at the wall like he so frequently does while smoking? mayhaps this editing went off also i never thought i’d say this but the brotherfucker has a point mo is gonna pop off when he sees yall again

28) FBI wyd........ that’s a lot

29) that falling out last season bit: blair’s definitely talking about tiff’s parents, and im almost certain andrew flubbed right there and improvised over it by saying “autumn.” well im appreciative of that bc a) it’s funny and b) it indicates when this is going on a bit. it’s not like we’re two years in the future or anything. this is probably gonna start a couple of months after the crash and that’s it.

30) no idea who blair is talking to tho since i can’t see the woman’s face. could be one of tiff’s friends? idk. also nice hair tiff

31) that ball spinning around like a gumball in a machine? weird transition but aight. also immediately after, dawn is in the lehman office, again no idea why. probably the same scene as larry telling her that mo is plotting his revenge but idk why she’s there.

32) that shot of a plane coming into JFK? now im near certain that mo is in cali it would make so much sense please showtime just MAKE SENSE. 

33) confetti and mo’s entrance? you know what it’s what i should’ve expected tbh it’s all so delightfully in character EDIT: THE CONFETTI IS NOT BEFORE MO’S ENTRANCE. YOU CAN SEE DAWN’S CLOTHES CHANGE COLOR, IT WAS JUST AN EDITING TRICK.

34) mo’s just gonna pull up, zero fucks, in the middle of the day. much different than how i thought this scene would go, with a lot of betrayal and drama involved instead of this bitch just pulling up. now idek if dawn and mo are in contact before this, when before i was almost certain they would be.

35) what blair says here is definitely not the first thing he says when mo walks in, i can tell from the editing. also im near certain that blair doesn’t say “bro.” it sounds edited in/done in post (his voice pitches up a lot there when that’s usually a beat when your voice would fall), so i wouldn’t be surprised if blair curses a lot there and they just had to edit it to stay in the green band. 

36) ol polluted waterfall lookin ass jshgkjfdhg mo quit lying that hairstyle is not popular fuck off

37) im loving this tagging order tbh. paul scheer getting tagged in the trailer is just. what he deserves. do we consider keith a protagonist now? he’s in all the promo material by name and face now.

38) regina and andrew look so good god yes also the editing is so GOOD fuck

39) keith (hand holding emoji) blair

        getting hit by random vehicles

40) NO THE LIMBO FUCK SHIT THESE CARS WERE NOT MEANT TO LAST almost looks deliberate :eyes emoji:

41) what’s keith doing with this barbershop quartet wtf

42) almost certain that’s tiff singing? based on 1x09 this oughta be good lmao

43) THE HEEL CLICKING IS TAKING ME OUT HGKJDHFGKJFD. could this be mo and marcus? who knows?

44) look at all the cash wtf what’s all that cash for? ah shit here we go again

45) tiff entering another dimension followed by dawn doing what is certainly a mountain of coke? kind of poetic cinema ok

46) ok dawn’s wearing that green suit again from my icon so??? what does it mean what does it all mean

47) who is mo squaring up with tf? is this marcus? i can’t tell in this lighting maybe it’s fake shooting guy idk also where the fuck are they? some party? but not a rich ppl thing just a thing? idk

48) guys. we have it. the fucking airdate. i have been stanning since the first fucking episode almost a year ago today and finally we have an airdate. respect to the new stans but yall dont know what seven and a half months of network radio silence in regards to your current obsession feels like. @hatimbinaba msged me and said we had a date and the shot of adrenaline i felt was like nothing else. serotonin is currently stored in the black monday and now the serotonin is stored in the ME. Sunday, March 15, 2020, 10 pm motherfuckers. put that shit on the calendar. also looks like we have a slightly earlier timeslot which is nice.

49) and to top (ahah) it all off we have blair just straight up gay panicking at the end. that’s definitely tuc and june and if yall have been following yall would know that tuc is playing blair’s love interest and june is playing tuc’s wife so this is all very jghsrkjghs im rly excited for this scene. no way of knowing if this is before or after blair and harris get together but it’s still kshgkdjhgdkj. rich people golfing? more like rich people existing lmao. also where’s that onion video i need to find the onion video fuck this is just like the onion said would happen. i will post it and make memes later. 

50) then blair just gets hit??? by the golfcart?? and there’s this scream that is definitely not the scream of andrew, tuc or june so??? whose scream was that??? did they add that shit in post??? tf???? also tuc and june barely flinching is really decapitating me kjshkrjdg

51) there’s no way of knowing if tiff is also at the golf course, but if she isn’t? then it’s just blair and his canon love interest and canon love interest’s wife???? which is so funny “hey come play golf with me” “oh is anyone else coming?” “ya my wife” “you’re so stupid i have to question how you’re even still alive”

52) WHEEWWWW AND THAT’S IT YALL!!! BUT A COUPLE MORE THINGS. some distinct absences: no known shot of marcus (which is wack yall would think they would want to plug the hell out of dulé hill) and very few shots of harris and corky. why. promote your newcomers some more tf.

anyways that’s all on this long ass post. @ mutuals expect more freakouts xx love yall this is unedited just raw emotion

#black monday #andrew rannells #don cheadle #regina hall #trailer #showtime #slander

[swtorramblings]

United in their hatred of one man. Or an infinite number of them. All because of an incident with a madman with a box. Art by @fleeting-sanity. “Valkorion on the TARDIS AU” writing challenge also by @fleeting-sanity. 

Ow. 2956 words.

This is a story of the last of the Time Lords, and a monster from another existence.

It is also a story that never happened.

It is little known, but the Doctor has not always gone by that name, over their many lives. It is a name they chose for themselves, but some incarnations took others. Some signs point to an existence before the name, but no one now knows the truth for certain. The War Doctor never took a name at all, that was simply what he was called by others. In one possible future that hopefully will never be, their darkest thoughts were released to take another form, becoming the Valeyard.

And once, a predator came upon them while they were recreating themselves, and they became Valkorion.

He stood, confused. His senses had always been far-reaching and acute, but nothing like this. He could feel the universe revolving around him, the movements of the smallest particles to the great arm of the galaxy he stood in. 

The body itself was quite strong, not like his past choices for hosts but powerful in its own way, and he felt his renewed youth. However, these were the least of this form’s gifts.

The knowledge. That was its greatest boon to him, and it flooded him, paralyzing him in place for long hours, then days. He could feel each second, and also knew that time was irrelevant to him now.

After his apparent destruction, he had drifted for an indeterminate, almost losing himself in the spaces between universes. Now, though, he had once again taken the body of a god, as was only appropriate.

When he had recovered from the shock, he looked down at himself and chuckled. “So, a new body, at last.”

He spent some time alone on this vessel, this TARDIS, apparently, examining both the many new memories and the ship itself. Time and relative dimensions in space. What an absurd name, but it was to be expected. This Doctor was an absurd member of an absurd species, Valkorion now understood quite well.

A species that had the power to grant themselves true immortality, that could live forever, or close enough by any reasonable measure, and they chose mortality. They would live for centuries, still, but they limited themselves to a paltry few lives. 

All their power, and they chose non-interference instead of ruling the universe, lacking the wills to perfect the common clay nature had given them. Such limited creatures they were.

He supposed he should be grateful, really. The fools had squandered themselves, and now he stood in their place.

He could go anywhere, anywhen. Even to places that should not exist, because he could see beyond what even the Doctor knew. As powerful as he was, he would still need more to be complete.

He smiled as he chose his destination. It suited both his goals, and his desire for revenge. *** The TARDIS took her instructions from the creature that had replaced her Doctor, knowing she would follow them. After all, she already had.

She also knew what would happen. It did not make her happy. She was incapable of taking joy in its suffering, or anything else for that matter.

Truly. *** Senya Tirall’s Journal:

The woman my son was allowing to live downstairs still glared at me when she thought I couldn’t see. I’d watched her from the stage, and every now and then, for a moment or two, she seemed more at peace, almost serene, hearing my voice.

She was a puzzle.

Usually, though, we stayed clear of one another, which seemed to suit us both fine. That night, I left the stage early and went to sit with her. I had felt a chill all night, seeping down into my bones, and something told me she was feeling it, too.

Something terrible had happened, or would soon, and I didn’t care to be alone. She looked up from her table as I approached, the anger showing in her strange eyes and the set of her jaw, but then she set it aside and let out a sight. “What do you want, Senya?”

I glanced around the floor. The band had picked up the slack I had left. “Just to talk.”

She waved me to a seat. “Well, you’re the boss’s mother, I suppose I can’t stop you.”

She’d said something like that when we’d first met, too, even though he hadn’t told her who I was to him. I pulled out a chair and sat down, and got straight to the point. “Why do you hate me?”

She seemed ready for the question. “I…”

That was when we both heard the sound, from above the club, where my son keeps his offices. We were on our feet sprinting in a moment, and I had my pistol in hand as I threw open the door. *** Tony Tirall’s Journal:

I was back in my office over the club, doing some paperwork. The life of a private eye isn’t all glamor and adventure, after all. In fact, it almost never is, and there are bills to send and bills to pay. I actually find it relaxing to do something so mundane.

I had a sudden feeling that the night wouldn’t stay that way, and then heard it. A strange sound, rising and falling, and the the thing appeared.

A police box. I only knew what it was because it was labeled at the top, but somehow I knew what it meant.

Suddenly, my mother and the woman from another universe had come to my office. Senya said, “Tony? Is anything wrong?” She noticed the box. “What?”

I found myself saying, “Don’t worry, Mother, I’ve heard of this being. The Doctor is an enemy to the things we fight, I’m sure it will be fine.”

None of that was true, though. I hadn’t heard of such a being, had I? Where had that come from?

Vaylin examined the thing and said, “Tony, I think you’re wrong, and we should run.”

That might have been a good idea, but I hesitated for a moment, and then it was too late.

What came out of the blue box was not some savior, but a horror out of my past. One I thought well and truly destroyed. He looked at me and smiled.

“Hello, Son.” *** Vaylin’s Journal:

He looked us over, a hungry smile on his face, standing in front of that absurd blue box. “Wife. Daughter. Good, you are all here.”

He was different, somehow. He continued to speak, but I tuned out his droning, closed my eyes for a moment.

I could sense the electrical pulses of two distinct hearts.

“You are no husband of mine, monster,” Senya said.

He chuckled. “Indeed? Well, I suppose it makes little difference.”

Anthony had drawn a pistol. He wasn’t ready for a confrontation with what he thought was standing in front of him, but he was still going to try.

I’d been wrong. He was more like my brother than I thought.

He said, “What have you done with the Doctor, Valkorion?”

I looked over at him. “Doctor? What are you talking about?”

He seemed momentarily confused himself, stammering, “That’s not the question I was expecting.”

“Oh, he means the former inhabitant of my vessel. A pathetic fool who wasted his existence for a race of similar fools. I’m honestly surprised you know anything of the subject.”

Senya was just as confused as I was, and said, “So am I.”

“Well, regardless, the Doctor is no longer with us. I am now the emperor of all space and time, and you would do well to kneel before me.”

Obviously, I wasn’t about to let that go. *** Excellent, he thought. The combined knowledge of so many lives, his own and the Doctor’s, gave him insight beyond either. He was so close, and they would help him to unlock infinity.

It was their connection to him that would do it. That he had taken the few scant decades to pass on his power, even in the body of another. With him as the beginning, they were a step into the future, one that with the TARDIS could be extended forever in an inductive loop.

He then realized something, about this universe, and about these doubles of his “family”. There was no connection between them, no bonds of the Force creating the power he would have stolen. It was unnecessary, it’s lack might even make things easier, but it would have been a delicious bonus. He frowned at them, saying, “I must say, though, you are a disappointment.”

Vaylin spoke first. “Yes, ‘Father’. Disappointment? You should get used to it.” Impossibly, she stepped up to him, lightning wreathing her fists, flowing from her eyes, and blasted him off his feet and back into the TARDIS.

How? There was no power there, she was an ordinary woman in this bland universe!

He had to remind himself again that it made no difference.

It had been a surprise, but unfortunately for all of them, it placed him exactly where he wanted to be. *** Tony Tirall’s Journal:

I had hoped to keep him talking, I had reinforcements on the way, but of course Vaylin had acted without thinking.

I don’t blame her, a few years ago I would have tried to push the metal fist he had “given” me through his face, too. I just wish she could have waited another minute or two.

But maybe this was a matter to be settled between family.

Another thought I could tell wasn’t mine.

She’d already gone into the machine he arrived in, and mother was following her before I rounded the desk. I don’t know why, but I had an idea of what to expect. I started to warn Senya, but saw her expression. She was ready to rip his throat out with her bare hands, if she had to.

I shrugged and went through the door. *** Vaylin’s Journal

I walked through the door and couldn’t help it. I stopped and gaped at what I saw. What was this? How was this inside that tiny blue box?

And there was a voice, a voice I could not quite understand, speaking into my mind.

He stood there, next to the console, waiting. He didn’t seem concerned.

Pathetic was what I thought as I blasted him again.

Or tried to. Nothing happened.

Anthony and Senya charged in, and they didn’t wait any longer, pulling the triggers on their weapons. Again, nothing.

Valkorion chuckled. “Apparently, this space exists in temporal grace. You weapons won’t work.”

Anthony stepped forward and, over the loud ticking noise, said, “I see. I may have found a loophole.”

“What?”

And then just punched the mighty Valkorion in the gut with all the mechanical power of his metal fist.

It was beautiful. If we weren’t busy, I think I would have shed a tear. *** Senya’s Journal

I almost smiled as the creature with Valkorion’s face curled up around Anthony’s fist. I knew that Vaylin was from another universe, so I guess I shouldn’t have surprised by any of this. This man was like her, from a place where I was his wife, Tony his son, Vaylin his daughter.

I felt sorry for anyone that had this monster as family.

I heard ribs crack, and was about to step up to help finish him off. Maybe with the butt of my gun, or if that didn’t work, I had a sash I could probably make a garrote in a pinch. I wasn’t going to let him walk away.

That’s when I felt it. We had stepped into his trap. I could sense others, crowding around us, crying out as they were pulled into the heart of this strange ship. I saw myself repeated forever, along with Tony and Vaylin, but still only one Valkorion. This was his plan, to use us to connect himself to the endless. My own voice was whispering to me, a million subtle variations I could barely make out, telling me his plan.

More importantly, why he would fail.

I reached out to the daughter I had never had with a power I do not possess to get the ball rolling. *** He recovered quickly, but these had already been more trouble than he had expected. It was time to end it.

He used the excess regeneration energy to heal his cracked ribs and then blast Arcann, whatever he called himself here, away. He keyed in a sequence on the console, springing his trap. Senya fell to her knees, while Arcann was unable to continue his attack, their puny minds unable to handle the presence of their other selves.

To his shock, though, Vaylin was still standing, her head tilted to one side, listening to voices he couldn’t hear. “What? How are you standing when they fall? You do not have the will!”

She laughed, sounding like the broken mind he expected, then waved vaguely at the air, while stepping towards him. “What, did you think this would cause me pain? Perhaps drive me mad? All the knowledge in the universe and you are still so stupid. You made me mad, already, ‘Father’. I’m used to it.” When she was only a few feet away, she finished, “But I made myself free.”

He expected her to lash out at him. He was ready. She could not use her strange powers as a weapon, only her fists and feet. Instead of striking at him, though, she slapped her hand down on the console, and lightning flared outward, not as a weapon, but as a power source.

The core of the ship had been opened, part of his plan, scanning the multiverse for these three, pulling them to it, and soon it would stabilize and become a permanent flow of energy, costing their countless, meaningless, lives, fulfilling his destiny and his need for revenge in one stroke.

It required an orderly flow, though, and somehow, she had thrown that into chaos. The console, the TARDIS, perhaps reality itself, seemed to explode.

They swirled about him, infinite variations of his family, calling out to him. Some were dead, their spirits dragged back for this one pronouncement. Some still lived, and of those some were conquerors, some had turned aside from what he had tried to make them, others were simply insignificant.

And, in all of those faces, all of those hateful glares, they rejected him.

He had thought he controlled this body, after months of training himself, but these multitudes, pointing, accusing, hating, he could not stand. His own senses betrayed him, allowing him to feel their limitless pain.

He tried to reach out, saying, “Please, Son, help me!”

The one that had called itself Tony said, “You do not understand. There is no reality where I am your son.”

The desiccated corpse of one of the Thexans, pulled here along with his brothers, dead in so many realities, said, “Indeed.”

His daughter, this one powerless in every way that mattered to him, laughed and said, “Oh, ‘Father’, you’ve failed again. All the power and knowledge in the universe, and you still could not turn this into a victory.”

Senya spoke last, not his, nor this pallid universe’s, but something more. More than he could comprehend. “You are one and want to be infinite. You cannot comprehend that you already are, as are we all. And that is why, inevitably, you fail. Goodbye, husband.”

He screamed then. He knew there was no sound coming from him, that none of this had any reality. He could feel it, the universe turning, himself at its center. That was the truth. But here, there was a still greater truth, that even he was insignificant. However much power he gained, he was as nothing in what lay beyond.

That was the wisdom of the Time Lords that he had rejected. That they recognized that they were so small, and that they accepted it.

That was the truth of these iterations of his family, that as small as they were, they still mattered, even if only to each other.

He was the great Valkorion, Vitiate, Tenebrae, and so many other names beside. He was the last of the Time Lords. Defier of fate, the dam that altered the river. He had rejected the finite, but could not tolerate the infinite.

And that contradiction tore at him, pulled him apart, leaving nothing, eventually not even a memory. *** They heard that rising, falling sound again, and with the lingering presence of their other selves, recognized that it was the sound of the TARDIS returning them to their proper places.

They appeared in Tony’s office.

Vaylin looked around and said, “Well, that was fun.”

Senya replied, “Well, enjoy it while you can, dear. We won’t remember it for long.”

Tony was surprised by this statement, and said, “Why do you say that, Mother?”

“I don’t know how I know, but I don’t think any of this really happened. I can already feel it fading.” *** The memories faded, and the journals were never penned. Strangely, there is still a copy of them in the Library, guarded forever by shadows.

Otherwise, no trace exists.

Elsewhere, at the starting point of these events, floated a blue box.

They sat up. The regeneration had been particularly stressful this time, though not the worst ever. There was, though, only one thing that was important in this moment. And only one way to test it.

A hand was lifted, there was a slight, sharp pain, and new eyes focused on what was held between two new fingers. And then a moment of exultation, after so many lives, so many bodies.

“Yes! Finally a ginger!”

#Vaylin #Senya Tirall #Arcann #Archimedes Anthony Tony Tirall #Thexan #Valkorion #cosplay link #twitter #DarkSideCity #Doctor Who crossover

[plasma-paints]

Okay, Theory Time!

This is going to be really long, so to spare people I’m going to put pretty much all of this under the cut, but it involves time and space and the fact that we might have had this all wrong from the start. Also, probably best if you watch part 4 of Observation first.

Alright, so Sean not so subtly implied that the egos are in fact from different universes. The universes intersecting for a short period of time before separating again would explain why the egos tend to come and go in our timeline. A good example of this in popular media is The Convergence from Thor: Dark World. At minimum two universes, or points in space in the movie, overlap and thus matter/energy can pass between unhindered. Being in the centre of one of these anomalies would technically allow you to be in multiple universes at once. (I like to imagine bubbles mixed with a Venn Diagram for visualization.)

So pretty simple, the universes intertwine, someone passes through, boom their in our reality for a while. Except, these kinds of anomalies are stereotypically spacially specific, so if one were to enter into one and then leave its area of effect, they may not return to their original universe. Essentially, they’d be stuck, albeit temporarily if they can find another anomaly. This is what I imagine has happened to each of the egos.

It can explain away a lot of things: 

-Jackieboy-man’s and Marvin’s abilities - Dr. Schneep’s strange medical practises (at least in this universe) -JJ’s inability to speak -Chase being able to stand in for Jack

It could also be used to explain Anti in a similar fashion, just another universe’s version, but I don’t think that’s quite the case. Anti, unlike the rest, is different. That much has been made obvious by the fact that he’s the only seemingly knowledgable one. He seems to understand what’s going on intimately. “Time is broken.” This indicates that the universes aren’t necessarily colliding at the same relative time, let alone space, but the more interesting fact is that he knows that they should be. ‘Broken’ implies that he is aware of a time when time flowed properly, possibly without the universes intersecting at all. A state of order so to speak. 

Anti though is the epitome of chaos, so why does he of all the egos know what order looked like? I mean he bounces throughout space and time, bounces around space within dimensions, and doesn’t appear to have a physical form of his own. There’s absolutely nothing orderly about him. So why is he the omnipotent ego? For that exact reason. He’s unstable, unlike the others, he’s unable to remain anywhere outside of an anomaly. For whatever reason, he can’t leave. So he’s been stuck who knows how long, getting glimpses of multiple realities and eventually he must have just put it together. For him, time is the most broken, phasing between universes at an almost imperceivable pace... He, for lack of a better word, glitches.

Now the real question is why? What happened to result in this instability? Why are universes, that for all extensive purposes should remain separated, bouncing around and into each other like billiard balls? 

The simplest answer: Someone fucked up, and they fucked up badly. 

My thoughts are that it was one of two individuals who caused this cascade failure of the multiverse: Anti... Or Sean. The narrative, as I see it anyway, can only make sense if one of them or both of them is to blame. Why else would Anti continue to appear back in this universe, harassing the egos who also end up in this reality? 

Anti makes a lot of sense, as he’s like the focal point of the chaos, the epicentre. He’s the antithesis of order and seems to only want to bring down everyone with him. He makes for a stereotypical evil entity.

The story becomes more interesting if it’s Sean though, that tipped the balance. He wouldn’t even have to know he did it, an everyday action that this version of himself wasn’t supposed to do perhaps... 

***Everything under this point is a potential partial timeline/plot theory***

I’m purely speculating now, but possibly that action was making a youtube channel. (I’ll come back to this.)

It would tie a lot of things together actually, and it would finally give Anti a proper motive. He just wants this to be over. “I’m tired of playing pretend, fucking circles!” Who knows how long it’s been for him? How many different attempts he’s made at fixing this, only to fail over, and over, and over? How many plans he’s tried? How many of them we’ve seen? Think about how calmly he said, “Time is broken.” This time around was different from his usual overzealousness. Possibly because it was one of his first attempts at reaching out, asking for help, hoping that somehow, someone else would put together the pieces and end his torment. 

It’s odd and fascinating because this entire time we might have been framing him as a villain because of what we witnessed first - the violence, the threats, the manipulation- that we missed the overall message: “Help me.” 

 If time isn’t flowing the same for him as it is for us, he could have been trapped in this in-between state for countless lifetimes: “I am eternal.” Being torn apart and stitched back together a billion times a second everywhere and nowhere, “always there, always watching.” Frantically he puts in information wherever he can: glitches, video tags, titles, social media, in those brief moments when he occupies our reality once more. He’s figured out that this universe is the problem, we’re the epicentre of a catastrophe beyond the comprehension of everyone but him. He tries, and he tries, and he tries to get someone to notice him. He becomes more knowledgable as time goes on, finds tricks to staying more stable, gathering allies from alternate realities (like those from the overnight watch), manipulating universes so that they intersect at the right places, puppeteering on a cosmic scale. 

Nothing ever works perfectly though, so he also becomes increasingly desperate. No one else is putting the pieces together, bringing his nightmare to an end. Suffering endlessly until he finally snaps, coming to a single conclusion. In order for this hell to end, he has to kill the person who started it all: our Sean. Time doesn’t matter to him after all, so all of the attempts we’ve witnessed are his end game. Perhaps he mistakenly took Chase for Sean due to him crossing universes and manipulated him into ending his own life (Chase’s power hour.) Another time he appeared while Sean was dying, and tried to disable the surgeon working on him (Kill Jacksepticeye.) He partially succeeds, and Sean’s in a coma.

Here’s where to channel comes in. If it’s the error that needs to be corrected, it explains why Anti’s so obsessed with us, the community. He may think that maybe that too would be enough, that if the channel dies, it’s the same thing as Sean dying, the mistake ceases to be. Except, even with Sean out of commission, the channel lives on. The other egos, primarily Chase it would seem, taking over to keep things running while Schneep tends to Sean. 

None of the Egos stuck in our reality have worked Anti’s situation out, obviously, all they see is another version of themselves actively trying to kill them all and so they band together. Realizing that these other realities’ versions of himself were actively interfering in his plans, he moved on to eliminate them from the equation too. Possibly he thought blackmail would suffice for Chase, so he took his kids. Instead of just sabotaging Schneep’s surgery in kill Jacksepticeye, he moves to try to choke him dead instead. An unending cycle of attempts to rid himself of Sean, of the stupid little thing that has caused him unending pain and infuriation.

Except... It does end. I’ve felt rather adamant that Say Goodbye is not the first major appearance of Anti from his perspective, but the last. Time goes by, Anti grows stronger and picks a time and place to focus on: October 2016. In order to focus himself there, he creates a sort of beacon whenever he happens to glitch through. “You all said my name,” for the first major time in our timeline, a call throughout time and space, “kept me inside.” We gave him a tether to one spot long enough to act out his plan. “This is all your fault! Too long! [You should have] listen[ed] to me!” We never put the pieces together, we took too long, so he had to resort to killing Sean.“You all made this happen! You could have stopped this, but you just watched as this happened!” He’s angry with us because if we had put the pieces together we could have ended his suffering earlier as well as saved Sean. “Now, he’s gone forever.” It’s over, it’s done, Sean’s dead, Anti presumably goes back to whatever reality he was from, and time and space fix themselves. We don’t know this though, because we still have to live out our failure in a paradoxical timeline that once everything is back in balance should cease to exist, no longer serving a purpose. So it’s literally the last chance to, “Say goodbye.” Not just to Sean, nor Anti, but to our universe itself.

But that’s just a theory, a meta-theory. Thanks for reading!

@therealjacksepticeye

#jacksepticeye #therealjacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jse egos #jse theory #mayhem 2.0 #dismay2019 #theory #jacksepticeye egos #multiverse #timelines #space and time and stuff #more pieces kept falling into place

[rickssugarplum]

Singing Him to Sleep

Alright! Let’s try a kinda angsty yet still super fluffy songfic! The song in the fic is Pale September by Fiona Apple. It is such a beautiful song and I highly recommend you check it out! ❤

(Rick C-137 x Reader) SFW, Music, Songfic, Swearing, Angst, Hints of depression, Existential crisis, Fluff

You are singing alone, and Rick comes by and overhears you.

Pale September...

I wore the time like a dress that year...

In a pitch-black evening, your home was filled with your voice as you were harmonizing with the keys of the piano you were currently tapping on your fingertips. 

The autumn days swung soft around me like cotton on my skin...

You loved to sing. It was a passion of yours for as long as you can remember. Music was your first love. As a young child, you would hear songs you loved and would memorize all the words within mere hours. You felt a sense of freedom and purpose when you sang out loud, never caring who would hear. Those that did, often praised the sound you would make with your vocals. It made you feel good that you were at least decent at something that you loved to do. Singing your heart out gave you a sense of euphoria. There was nothing else you had really needed.

But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared...

My heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within...

As years went by, you started to grow wiser and no longer oblivious to the hardships of life around you. You no longer saw your family as the security you sought as a child, and people you knew suddenly went away. You had mainly kept to yourself as you started to grow, not talking to anyone, with really no desire to. At school, you had become the outcast, making you feel hurt and lonely. Certain challenges were harder to face, usually ending up as you being the receiving end of anger, leaving you with a broken heart. Time went by with experiencing many losses, from loved ones, the sense of wonder you used to have, to even your own self-worth. You were aware of the truth. The world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. It was filled with suffering and undeserved pain, not just for you of course, but also for people you would never even meet and know you couldn’t help. You felt useless, with no real purpose to exist.

So, you stopped singing. While it made you happy, your mind told you that you didn’t deserve happiness, no matter how small. You didn’t earn it. Why would you feel you have to right to be happy when you made so many people angry with your mere presence? When you finally became an adult, while you still had your insecurities, you had started to make decisions that you knew were important for you to function if you were going to continue on...with what, you weren’t sure. But, there was always one thing that always kept you focused and in the moment, that you had for awhile abandoned. One day, you decided to return to that place, where you were once that happy child, whose innocence still brightened the outlook on life around you. Little by little, whenever you felt you had needed to let yourself go, you would just sing. Every aspect of your life was in your mind as you vocalized the notes.

But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full...

And sank in the burrows of my keep...

You thought of him; of Rick. Many people would insist that you’re crazy. And maybe you were, but you were certainly not naive. You knew he wasn’t the kindest man in the universe, but he was certainly experienced enough to not sugarcoat much, if anything at all. He was bold, upfront, infectious, brutal, and above all else; passionate. When a certain situation called for it, he could be anything he wanted. The thought of how he had brought you so much more out of life you hadn’t known, made your heart speed up with exhilaration. 

You were so enwrapped in your own world in that moment, you didn’t hear the typical rippling of a swirling, green portal warping from another room. Nor did you hear Rick call out your name as the piano’s sound had drowned everything else out. You just kept singing, unaware that the scientist had started to make his way through your home to find the source of the music. When he found it was you he was...surprised. You had never sang for him, thinking he had no interest in your little hobby. There was no real reason to tell him. “Why would he care?”, you'd scoff to yourself. Little did you know, he was now lingering outside your doorway, just listening.

And all my armor falling down...

In a pile at my feet...

And my winter giving way to warm...

As I'm singing him to sleep...

You stopped, satisfied that you got a little steam out of your system. It was late, and time for you to call it a day.Turning around to leave, you froze when you saw Rick standing there looking at you, stunned. 

“Oh! Uhhh...Hi Rick.” you spit out nervously. Now, you were used to him stopping by unannounced, but this is the first time he had been present as you were singing and you had no idea how much he heard.

“Wow.” he said, surprised, with a pretty rare smile on his face. “I didn’t know that you could sing.” he exclaimed enthusiastically.

You shrugged.“I don’t do it as much as I used to. Actually just getting back into it,” you confessed to him.

“You have a pretty voice.” he told you sincerely.

You felt your cheeks warm up. Hearing him say that, gave you butterflies.

“Thanks.” you finally responded, shyly.

“Y’know uhh, I dabble in music too.” he admitted. You were kinda shocked at that. You couldn’t see this man of science as a musician.

“Really?” you asked, intrigued. You moved on the piano bench to make room. Rick sat down beside you as he elaborated.

“Oh yeahh, W-w-we had a band, me, Birdperson and Squanchy. I-I was the guitarist. Don’t remember most of it though cause I was p-p-pretty fucked up on K-Lax.” he laughed, reminiscing about the old days. “I actually s-still strum up some shit from time to time. 'Fact, me and Morty had saved the planet thanks to our hot beats.” He admitted proudly. You weren’t surprised at that honestly. With all the crazy adventures he and his grandson had endured, they would be able to have the fate of the world in the hands of their ability to compose anything.

What did surprise you however, was that a man who was aware about the cold, heartless universe, was still able to get a thrill in making music, one way or another. When that was the reason you had stopped for such a long time. It made you wonder about Rick a little more, if music made him, dare you say it; happy.

“It used to bring me such joy, gave me purpose y’know? Like I could help people even in the smallest way. But, I don’t know..” You wallowed, struggling to find the words to tell him how you had really felt. “I felt like, I didn’t deserve to do what I loved cause, I didn’t deserve any happiness.” you finally admitted.

“Hmm..” he responded, seeming to understand where you were coming from. He was no stranger to mental battles within himself. With his gift of brilliance, he had also had his share of anguish and self-hatred, more so than he would like to admit, but he knew it was there, you knew it was there. That was when you would try to support him as much as you could.

“Well, the universe is hard and unforgiving, any idiot can see that. The ones that h-have their head so far up their asses pretend that everything is all hunky-dory. Everyone has a problem with themselves, not matter how unimportant it really is. There’s plenty of misery to go around.” He said as he twisted the cap off his flask to take a swig out of it. You just watched him sip, waiting for him to continue.

“Sometimes, you have to just not give a shit...because the more you care, the more chances life has to take you down. Fact is, w-we’re all gonna die and we’ll end up leaving no real impact in the end.” he stated boldly.

You knew he was right. If anyone knew the reality of the universe, it was Rick. He had seen so many different planets and dimensions where the impossible became possible.  Therefore, you couldn’t really argue with his point. However, he had another point to add that gave you a bit of an uplift.

“So, why not do whatever the fuck we want in the meantime?” he simply asked, so matter of fact.

A very slight curl to your mouth appeared as you look deep into his sunken eyes, placing your hand on his wrinkled skin. He simply closed his eyes, letting you caress his cheek. Your other hand explored his icy blue hair, always surprising you with how soft to the touch it was. Taking a closer look, you noticed another look he displayed. In his features and his body language, you noticed he looked...tired.

“And hey,” He opened his eyes half-lidded, to look into yours. “May-maybe I can bring my guitar over, and we can make music together sometime...share our misery.” he suggested with a smirk.

With a titter, you leaned in to press your lips softly to his, keeping the kiss gentle and light. You felt his thin lips returning your sentiment, not going any rougher than he usually would. His usual kisses were lustful and filled with need. This one felt, almost vulnerable... You both stopped to breathe, eyes locked, He leaned his forehead against yours. You were the first to speak up.

“I never asked you what you were doing here tonight.” You muttered.

“I had a looong adventure today and couldn’t sleep with Beth and her idiot fighting.” he explained, annoyed. Laughing, you understood. He was always welcome into your place whenever he just needed a break.

“Well, I was just getting ready to go to bed myself.” you led him to your bedroom, like you had many times before. He took off layers of clothing until he was left in a simple, white tank top and boxers. As soon as he did that, he climbed straight to your bed to relax as you put yourself in pajamas to get cozy, and then finally settled under the sheets, beside him. Rick then reached out to secure you in his arms. He always made you feel safe.The atmosphere in the room was perfect to fall asleep. However, Rick seemed to need one more thing tonight.

“Baby?” he muttered with his face in your hair.

“Mmm?” you responded.

“Can y-can you sing that song from earlier...?” he requested.

Your heart felt such a burst of joy, you were almost fully awake again. There was no way you would refuse him.

“Sure, Rick.” you answered sweetly, as you leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers reached into his hair once again, lightly stroking his head as you started to sing.

He goes along just as a water lily...

Gentle on the surface of his thoughts his body floats...

Unweighed down by passion or intensity...

Yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts...

And he finds a home in me...

For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap...

It was a moment you’d never trade for anything else in the world. You thought back to all the pain you had endured in your life. All those years you wished to just disappear, the heartache you had felt for so long, was worth it in the end, if it meant you got to sing to someone you loved as you felt him drift off.

All my armor falling down...

In a pile at my feet...

And my winter giving way to warm...

As I'm singing him to sleep...

#rick sanchez x reader #songfic #rick x reader #rickssugarplum #rick fangirl

[freedomfighterposts]

Spider-Gwen x Reader.

Symbiosis refers to two organisms co-existing in perfect harmony. That was the idea behind the so called ‘symbiotes’. However, many times have these symbiotes showed that they cannot live with humans. The symbiotes are an alien race called Klyntar and only express the emotions of its host. When Venom plagued the world, it was because Eddie Brock wanted to kill Spiderman for inadvertently ruining his life. Next, the asexual offspring of Venom the Carnage symbiote bonded with Cletus Kasady a known serial killer and deranged mind. However, these symbiotes can be shown to do good as well. This is the case of Conquest. The silver symbiote had never bonded with a host before and hadn’t been corrupted to neither the side of bad or good. So, when Conquest broke free of containment and bonded with Oscorp scientist (Y/n) Hill the pair didn’t turn out like the others. The first few weeks was full of adjustments and lifestyle changes. Later however, (Y/n) found that his symbiote was aiding him in his botany research. Despite being only eighteen years old, (Y/n) has been crowned the brightest mind of his generation. Discovering groundbreaking research on how to grow plants without oxygen to help colonize space. Then after bonding with Conquest, (Y/n) researched the Klyntar in secret… Sadly before (Y/n) could complete his research one of his colleges, who worked in interdimensional travel accidentally sent (Y/n) to dimension sixty-five. When (Y/n) first arrived, he didn’t know what to do. Luckily, he wasn’t alone. Conquest was literally a helpful voice in his head that pointed him toward meeting his mother. Maria Hill. Thankfully, SHIELD existed in most dimensions and after a few days Maria enrolled (Y/n) in Midtown high school. Where he met Gwen Stacy in his first and last year. But two years have passed since then.

“And because Z equals X to the power of negative three point seventy-six that means Q equals… negative twelve…” (Y/n) looked over the equations scribbled over the whiteboard in front of him. A frown spread over his face while his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But then that would render the solution non-applicable.” Suddenly (Y/n) felt something slip over his shoulder. Then the liquid like, silver alien head of Conquest leaked out and floated next to (Y/n), connected to his shoulder by tendrils of moving symbiote.

“But gravity cancels out does it not?” came the inquisitive, deep voice of the Klyntar symbiote.

“How does gravity cancel out?” Asked (Y/n) “Gravity affects all things within the atmosphere” There was an amused hum from Conquest.

“Not if you could walk on walls…”

“Like our resident Wall crawler.” (Y/n) smiled to himself. “God, I’m an idiot sometimes. So really Q is 1.3… So, the ratio is 1.3 to 1 to 4.6.”

“Exactly” replied Conquest “I must ask, why are you doing all this? I thought you wanted to grow plants in space.”

“Spider Woman will need as much help as she can get, if she is to go through similar experiences to the Spider Man in our universe.” (Y/n) replied smoothly as he began to write yet another equation on the whiteboard in his lab. Conquest hummed yet again.

“You like her.” The Klyntar accused. (Y/n)’s hand slipped in surprise causing him to draw a line through his equations.

“What? No, I do not!” (Y/n) defended himself, if he had pupils instead of soulless red eyes (Y/n) was sure Conquest would have rolled them.

“What do you humans say? Something about denial being a river somewhere… Hold on, someone’s coming” Suddenly the symbiotic goo that created the liquid like Conquest head seeped back into (Y/n)’s body leaving behind no trace of the symbiote at all.

(Y/n) worked in a S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned lab and worked with the semi-secret organization closely as one of the leading scientists regarding the Symbiotes. Thankfully, not one agent not even (Y/n)’s mother from Earth sixty-five figured out that Conquest had bonded with (Y/n). The S.H.I.E.L.D. lab that was designated for (Y/n) resided on the top floor of an illustrious apartment complex that had been completely purchased by S.H.I.E.L.D. for housing agents. Due to (Y/n)’s expertise with the symbiotes he was given the task of helping Spider Woman also known as Gwen Stacy. Suddenly there was a knock on (Y/n)’s door. Leaving his equations and ratios for the moment (Y/n) walked across the room, stepping over empty pizza boxes and almost tripping over a pile of reports just to open the door. On the other side stood a woman with stunningly bright, short blonde hair and bright baby blue eyes. Dressed in blue jeans being held up by a brown belt, a white tank top and a light brown overcoat Gwen Stacy stood with a smile on her face, twirling a drumstick with her fingers.

“Hey (Y/n)” Greeted the wall walker, (Y/n) smiled at the woman before him.

“Hey Gwen, come in.” (Y/n) stepped to the side, allowing Gwen to walk into the apartment turned lab. As (Y/n) closed the door he heard the taunting voice of Conquest in his head.

“If you don’t want to mate with her… Then why are you staring at her lusciously thick rear?” Conquest asked as innocently as his gruff voice would allow. (Y/n) scowled at the wall behind Gwen as he thought back an answer. Because Conquest bonded to (Y/n)’s brain instead of body like Venom, the pair are able to communicate by thoughts.

“Shut up!” Was (Y/n)’s eloquent reply. Gwen looked at (Y/n) with confusion.

“Uh, hey. Why the frowny face?” Desperate to keep his symbiotic friend a secret (Y/n) said the first thing that came to mind.

“Just thinking.” He replied vaguely, Gwen raised an eyebrow.

“Right… Anyway… Me and the Mary Janes are playing a concert this Friday down at central park. And I get to give away a backstage pass… I was wondering if you’d like to go?”

(Y/n) was so stunned by this news that even Conquest was at a loss for words. His facial expression must have been humorous as Gwen started to chuckle.

“Relax dude, I’m not asking you to marry me. Just, be my plus one?” she spoke with confidence but (Y/n) could hear the worry in her words.

“Hurry up and say something!” Yelled Conquest from inside (Y/n)’s thoughts.

“What about Harry?” Asked the botanist. Inside (Y/n)’s mind, Conquest groaned.

“Harry… Osborn?” Asked Gwen

“Yeah, I thought you two were…?” (Y/n) rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he picked his words carefully

“Going out?” Gwen answered for him.

“Yeah.” At (Y/n)’s weak reply Gwen gave a small laugh.

“We broke up a few weeks ago, and I don’t really feel like inviting my ex so, yeah.” Gwen’s smile never faded giving (Y/n) a small confidence boost.

“In that case sure, I’d be happy to come.” (Y/n) smiled, Gwen sighed with relief.

“That’s awesome. I’ll swing by at seven tomorrow” Gwen sent a flirtatious wink (Y/n)’s way.

“Speaking of swing, follow me.” (Y/n) walked back over to one of the spare bedrooms in the apartment that had been changed into a chemicals lab.

(Y/n) led Gwen over to a titanium plated desk, which was sporting more than a few burn marks. Three vials were held in place with metal claws above the table and each vial was filled with a different coloured substance. (Y/n) placed a beaker on the table and gingerly grasped two of the vials.

“I was doing some calculations and…” (Y/n) started but Gwen’s groan interrupted him.

“(Y/n) I like you, I do. But please, you know science hurts my brain.” She pleaded, (Y/n) grumbled something about science being cool but didn’t argue out loud, too busy trying to drown out Conquest’s constant laughter. Gwen smiled as she stood beside him.

“So, what’s gonna happen?” She asked, pointing to the beaker.

“I thought you didn’t like science” (Y/n) mocked.

“Oh, burn!” Yelled Conquest in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Gwen feigned shock, holding a spread hand to the top of her breasts over her heart.

“I am hurt (Y/n).” But her words had little meaning and her infectious smile betrayed her.

“Right… Anyway, if I’m correct…” (Y/n) started as he began to mix the chemicals

“And you usually are” interrupted Gwen again

“Then this should make…” (Y/n) didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as the chemicals inside the beaker reacted and shot a giant spurt of white goo straight up which stuck to the ceiling. “Stronger web fluid” (Y/n) finished with a sigh. Gwen was so surprised she dropped her drumstick on the ground, the wood clattered on the tiled floor.

“Woah. That’s awesome!” shouted Gwen in awe at the giant pillar of web fluid.

“Yes, anyway. This web fluid should be as strong as titanium while still being able to be easily shot from your slingers” (Y/n) explained as he poked the webs with a pen.

Gwen opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the ringtone of her cell phone. Taking the pink mobile from her jeans pocket, Gwen saw that it was her friend, fellow band member and roommate Betty Brant. Looking back to (Y/n), Gwen pursed her lips as if to say something but (Y/n) bet her to it.

“Take it. I need to finish this anyway. You said it yourself anyway, you’ll pick me up at seven tomorrow.” (Y/n) smiled at the blonde vigilante who muttered a quick ‘thank you’ before running from the apartment, closing the door behind herself as she answered the phone. When the door clicked shut, tendrils of moon like silver spiraled from the back of (Y/n)’s neck before twisting together to reform Conquest’s symbiote head. A ghoulish looking head similar to the other symbiotes with his long red eyes that allowed for a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view, and a mouth that stretched from one side of his face to the other whilst being filled with black, razor sharp teeth.

“What’s wrong?” asked (Y/n), knowing that Conquest wouldn’t have manifested if something wasn’t wrong.

“Gwen smelled different.” Conquest said, his voice raspy, yet clear at the same time.

“And you smell Gwen, often?” asked (Y/n) with a raised brow. Conquest’s demonic eyes swiveled to stare into (Y/n)’s own.

“Do not pretended you have never done the same. You’re like a puppy in need of affection.”

“Okay, that hurt me where I live” (Y/n) said, placing a hand over his heart.

“She reeked of Venom” The words hung in the air, a mixture of a statement and a threat.

“Are you sure? Last time you thought Venom was the old hotdog salesman on the street. Turns out you were just hungry.” (Y/n) asked, hoping that Conquest was wrong and he wouldn’t have to hurt the woman he cared about.

“That was one time!” Conquest argued

“You cost me fifty bucks!” (Y/n) countered.

“No matter, Gwen is a perfect host for Venom. She’s strong, agile and in desperate need to clear her name.” (Y/n) cursed under his breath, Conquest’s reasoning was undoubtedly reasonable. Gwen had been accused of murdering Peter Parker after fighting him when he turned into the Lizard. However, Peter died not because of Gwen but because of his injuries and Gwen had not forgiven herself. Yet every night she strived to do good where she could and thus had gathered quite a formidable size of followers ranging from creepy basement dwellers who made her into hentai comics. All the way to people who cosplay her at Comic-Con.

“I don’t want to hurt her.” (Y/n) said, looking in the fridge for the tater tots “But if I know Venom. It’s not going to leave Gwen willingly”

Friday came sooner than expected. (Y/n) hadn’t seen Gwen since last night. However, she had called and said to wait for her on the roof of his building. (Y/n) had wanted to tell her to use a car but before he got a chance Gwen had ended the call. So, as the sun started to set behind the concrete jungle, (Y/n) locked his apartment laboratory dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket. Jingling his keys into his pocket and bringing out his phone, (Y/n) called Gwen.

“Hey Gwen” (Y/n) called when the blonde punk star picked up her phone. By the sounds of things, she was on her way, if the sounds of cars honking and wind whipping past the speakers were anything to go by.

“Hey… (Y/n)” Gwen managed to say between grunts “I’m almost there… Two minutes tops” (Y/n) smiled to himself as he looked towards New York’s busiest area, Times Square, where Spider-Gwen was most likely swinging past.

“Take your time Gwen. There’s no need to rush.” (Y/n) squinted his eyes as he saw something fly past a building.

“Almost there!” Came Gwen’s reply. Suddenly there was a whoosh of air and a flash of pink and white as Spider-Woman flew up (Y/n)’s apartment building and landed on the water tower of the building, legs crouched and a phone to her ear.

“I’m here” She cooed cockily.

(Y/n) ended the phone call, slipped his phone into his pocket and smirked up at Gwen, who was dangling one of her legs off the side of the water tower.

“So, will you be going as Gwen Stacy or Spider Woman?” (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the fact that Gwen was wearing her Lycra, white and pink heroine costume. Although her mask was off revealing her blonde hair and bright baby blue eyes. Looking down at herself Gwen chuckled at her appearance. Brining her feet onto the tower roof, Gwen flipped down beside (Y/n) who then saw the bag on her back.

“That’s what this is for dummy.” Opening her pack, Gwen showed (Y/n) that it was full of normal clothes befitting a punk drummer, including the two mahogany drum sticks (Y/n) had gifted Gwen as a show of thanks for her saving his life after a Green Goblin incident. Zipping up the bag, Gwen smiled at (Y/n) who smiled back. The glow of the New York skyline silhouetted the pair slowly inching closer. The only thing (Y/n) could focus on was Gwen, even the excited roaring of Conquest was ignored as Gwen placed her hands against (Y/n)’s chest and leaned in.

“Gwen” (Y/n) gasped, breathlessly. Gwen moved one of her Lycia covered fingers to (Y/n)’s lips and shushed hum.   

“No more talking” Gwen whispered, sending shivers down (Y/n)’s spine. “Only… action” Gwen moved her body until it was pressed hard against (Y/n)’s own. Gwen’s lips pursed together as (Y/n) and Gwen both closed their eyes and leaned forward.

Until they were interrupted by Gwen’s ringtone. The cherry jingle was Gwen’s newest, most hated thing in existence. She groaned in frustration as her romantic moment ended with the man she had been crushing on, now stepped away from Gwen.

“It’s okay, you take it” Said (Y/n) with a smile, Gwen gave an apologetic one back and glared at her friend and another member of her band Glory Grant’s caller ID.

“Kill her!” Screamed the voice in her head

“But she’s my friend” Countered Gwen softly, so softly that she hoped (Y/n) wouldn’t hear.

“She’s ruining our chances with (Y/n)!” yelled Venom. The symbiote living in Gwen’s body had been very troublesome. Ever since the two bonded, Gwen had been plagued by the endless, unrelenting need to let the symbiote take control. But she knew this would only lead to her killing innocent people. True Venom helped her in her fights, but Gwen wanted it gone… Trouble is, she doesn’t know how. And she doesn’t want to scare (Y/n) away.

Answering Glory’s call, Gwen was bombarded with her friend’s worried and angry voice.

“Where the hell are you!” Yelled Glory, her anger easily recognizable through the phone.

“I’m in the middle of something!” Whisper shouted Gwen with a nervous smile directed at (Y/n).

“Oh, is it (Y/n)… Wait no, I don’t care. Our air headed leader is badgering me and Betty because you’re not here!” Gwen groaned at the news. When they had first formed the Mary Janes, the lead singer Mary Jane was pretty much a normal girl. But over time turned out to be an A-grade bitch. The red head was nosey, commanding and bratty… and those were her best qualities!

“Fine” sighed Gwen “I’ll be there in five”

“Make it four!” said Glory before the call was ended. Gwen huffed angrily as she dropped her phone into her pack, zipping the bag up and slinging it over her shoulders, Gwen turned back to (Y/n).

“I’m… sorry about that.” Gwen said nervously, a light pink blush creeping across her cheeks as Gwen fought against the embarrassment. (Y/n) shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s fine… But it sounds like we should go.” He said. Gwen cursed Glory in her mind.

“Yess” Hissed Venom “Kill Glory! Then Mary Jane! Then (Y/n) will be ours, forever!”

“You’re right” Sighed Gwen

“Wait. I am?” Asked Venom in surprise

“Not you!” Whispered Gwen to herself. Shaking her head and ignoring her symbiote, Gwen held out a hand to (Y/n) who took it. The pair smiled at each other before Gwen used her free hand to zip them across the city to Central Park.

Central Park was about a thirty-minute drive from (Y/n)’s apartment, but by web slinging it was only three. Unfortunately for all parties involved, (Y/n) wasn’t the best with heights. As soon as Gwen held him in her arm and leapt of his apartment, he shut his eyes tightly. He could feel the wind rushing past him, hear the short bursts of gas from Gwen’s web slingers and his stomach churned at the feeling of swinging through the air, knowing that it would be death if he fell or something happened to Gwen.

“Stop being a baby” groaned Conquest as (Y/n) wrapped his hands around Gwen’s waist.

“I’m a scientist, not an adventurer!” Screamed (Y/n) in his mind

“You’re embarrassing us!” Conquest countered

“Shut up!”

When Gwen felt (Y/n) hold onto her waist tighter, she smiled gleefully.

“Maybe I should do this with him more often” She thought to herself, relishing in the close contact with (Y/n) and how tightly he held onto her.

“Look at him” came Venom’s raspy voice “So, vulnerable. We could make him our pet.” Gwen frowned in annoyance, why is it that she could never just be happy for more than two seconds now.

“We are not making him our pet” Whispered Gwen, shooting a web to the corner of the nearest building and pulling. While swinging with one hand wasn’t hard, it wasn’t exactly easy with someone weighing her down.

“Why not? He looks so cute. So… delicious.” The alien yet somehow feminine voice angered Gwen with its words. “First we kill Glory and that bimbo redhead. Then we show (Y/n) who we truly are and he submits to our love!” Gwen frowned but said nothing. She really wanted (Y/n) to love her… But how far was she willing to go to get the love.

The concert in Central Park was being held at a moving sage. People were filling the area in front of the elevated stage dressed in punk clothing. Stands of various foods, drinks and other questionable substances lined the ring before the stage. The backdrop of the stage was a blood red curtain with the words “THE MARY JANES!” printed in the middle in a font that looked like wet paint. On the stage was a set of drums, two mic stands and a keyboard. Gwen, still dressed as Spider Woman, swung down behind the stage and away from prying eyes. (Y/n) was holding onto her tightly as to not fall and breathed a sigh of relief when his feet landed on the ground.

“Oh, it’s not that bad” chastised Gwen as she unzipped her bag. (Y/n)’s stomach was doing flips but even Conquest was not impressed with (Y/n)’s less than graceful display during their transport.

“Oh god. Do not be sick. You’ll ruin our chances!” Conquest commanded.

“Then can you help me so my stomach doesn’t feel like it’s in a tornado?” (Y/n) asked.

“Fine. But you need to start exercising. Brains can’t solve every problem.” Reminded Conquest. Because Conquest had bonded with (Y/n)’s internal organs and blood stream, the symbiote was able to easily repair any damage done to (Y/n)’s body, which included fatigue and nausea.

Meanwhile, Gwen had leapt into the branches of a nearby tree and pulled out her clothes. All she had under her Lycra and Spandex suit was her pink bra and a pair of white boxers because she hated panties. Hidden beneath the foliage of the tree, Gwen unzipped her suit and peeled it off her body as quickly as she could. Which caused her to lose her balance and she almost fell to the ground mostly naked but luckily her feet managed to stick to a tree branch and she was still hidden. Gwen saw (Y/n) leaning against the base of the tree she was in as he sucked in air.

“So cute” Gwen thought as she slinked back up into the tree. Pulling out her red shirt with black, diagonal stripes Gwen pulled the shirt over her body as she shimmed on some black skinny jeans before hurriedly pulling some slip-on shoes on and stuffing her spider woman costume in her bag, followed by her mask of course. Taking the drum sticks (Y/n) had given her, Gwen zipped her bag closed and jumped down to (Y/n) with a smile.

“Let’s go.” Was all she said.

Gwen led (Y/n) backstage where Gwen’s friends Glory and Betty were waiting, as well as Mary Jane the lead singer. The red haired stuck up, snobby, pompous bane of Gwen’s existence had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. Glory and Betty shuffled off to the side as Mary Jane glared harshly at the drummer.

“And where exactly have you been?” She asked acting high and mighty. (Y/n) stood awkwardly behind Gwen who stood in front of him in a protective stance.

“I was out getting my friend. You see, unlike you, he actually wants me to play.” Gwen barked back aggressively. Mary Jane scoffed at the accusation and turned to Glory and Betty for assistance but the two rolled their eyes at the red head and looked away. Growling, Mary Jane threw away the microphone she had been holding, it flew in (Y/n)’s direction and he had to duck to avoid being hit. Gwen growled at Mary Jane for this.

“What the hell, psycho!” Gwen yelled

“You’re the psycho if you think you can do this gig without me. You know what, fuck it, have fun without me losers.” Mary Jane yelled back as she stormed off leaving the three band members and (Y/n) alone.

Out in the front, the audience had begun chanting “M, J. M, J” over and over as time crept forward. Gwen looked to Glory and Betty.

“What do we do know?” asked Gwen in panic, she hadn’t expected Mary Jane to storm off like that.

“Don’t look at us girl. You did the talking” Glory reminded Gwen. Peeking out from behind the curtain, Gwen saw the mass of people waiting and wondering why she and the others weren’t on stage yet.

“We’ll have to cancel” Said Betty when Gwen turned back around.

“No, you don’t” reassured (Y/n), the three band members turned to (Y/n) in confusion.

“What do you mean we don’t? We just lost our lead singer and also the reason we’re called the Mary Janes!” said Glory, (Y/n) stepped forward.

“So? Call yourselves something different.” (Y/n) said turning to Betty. “Gwen always goes on about how good of a singer you are compared to Mary Jane. I bet you’ll do better than she ever could.” Betty blushed at his compliment.

“Why thank you.” She said, (Y/n) nodded and turned to Glory.

“I don’t think you need anyone to tell you how awesome you are Glory, I mean it’s in your name.” He said. Glory beamed at the man.

“Got that right sugah.” She said. And finally (Y/n) turned to Gwen with a soft smile.

“And you Gwen. Well… You’re perfect in my eyes.” At these words, Gwen couldn’t help but blush. Glory and Betty both screeched in happiness as their number one ship just sailed. Even Conquest joined in.

“Aww, that’s nice” he said in (Y/n)’s mind. When Gwen finally got over the shock of (Y/n) basically saying he liked her back she smiled back at (Y/n).

“You know, you still owe me a kiss.” Gwen declared as she linked her hands behind (Y/n)’s neck. The man in her arms smiled and placed a soft kiss to her cheek but nothing more. “What was that?” asked Gwen slightly annoyed “I thought we were having a moment? You missed my mouth.” Glory and Betty laughed in the background.

“We’ll finish our ‘moment’ when you finish this concert.” (Y/n) promised. Gwen pouted but relented as she let go of (Y/n). Turning to her two friends Gwen brought out her drumsticks and twirled them in her hands.

“Right girls… Let’s do this thing.”

(Y/n) watched as Gwen, Glory and Betty all made their way onto the stage. The crowd erupted into applause and cheer as Betty slung her guitar strap over her shoulder, Glory stood next to her keyboard and Gwen sat down at her drum set. Gwen gripped the microphone near her head and spoke clearly into it.

“Alright everyone listen up, my name’s Gwen and we got a killer show tonight!” she yelled, in response hundreds of dedicated fans screamed in appreciation. “Luckily for us, our bitchy lead singer left and so you got yourselves a new band. We are… The SPIDER WOMAN!” (Y/n) and Conquest couldn’t help themselves, they burst into laughter. A few people in the audience mumbled to others in confusion or anger at the name. But the vast majority only screamed louder with applause. Gwen, Glory and Betty all smiled at each other. Gwen twisted her sticks and crashed them together.

“One, two, three, four!” At ‘four’ all three women started expertly playing their instruments in such a way that it was impossible for (Y/n) to not dance to.

(If you guys want… There’s this for reference. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mBXOcNcZvs)

Gwen poured her heart and soul into her song and drums. Playing music had always been a conduit for her, having no one to really console her feelings with, Gwen had often hidden behind the lyrics of songs to express her emotions. Tonight, Gwen and the SPIDER WOMAN played a song that Gwen felt was about her. Every note, lyric, beat and breath were perfect and the crowd’s cheers only grew louder. At one point, Gwen looked to the side to see (Y/n), hidden behind a curtain, smiling away gleefully at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. This only spurred her to play harder, better. Gwen felt as if she was on another level, nothing could go wrong, she was untouchable. This was a feeling Gwen never had when Mary Jane had been with the band. Gwen’s new demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Glory and Betty. The keyboardist looked to the guitarist with a surprised yet overjoyed look and a smile graced each of their lips as they played.

Hours later and the concert was still going but Gwen and the others needed a break from the constant playing and so let another, lesser known band take the stage as the SPIDER WOMAN walked backstage. As Gwen and the others came into view (Y/n) started clapping and whistling catching the attention of the three girls.

“Now that’s a show to behold.” Exclaimed (Y/n). Gwen, who felt undefeatable, rushed forward and jumped onto (Y/n)’s body, sending the pair crashing into the sofa of which (Y/n) had been sitting in moments ago. Glory and Betty looked at each other.

“Let’s give our girl some privacy” Said Glory with a smile, Betty smiled back and nodded. Together the two left to give Gwen and (Y/n) some much needed alone time. Now laying on top of (Y/n), Gwen felt in control… Just how she liked it. She could tell Venom liked it too as all it was saying was ‘Yes.’ Over and over. Gwen breathed in (Y/n)’s scent deeply, loving the earthy smell he had from working with plants.

“I believe you owe me something” Breathed Gwen, her face inches from (Y/n)’s own. (Y/n) smiled looking up at the beauty on top of him, Gwen’s short blonde hair shimmered in the dim lights of the concert stage even from behind the curtain.

“Of course” (Y/n) closed his eyes and leaned forward with his head, Gwen did the same and tried to silence the giddy feeling within her. And finally, it happened. After close to two years of waiting, yearning Gwen Stacy finally got to kissed (Y/n) Hill. And the best part? He was kissing back.

After thirteen minutes of consecutive ‘marking territory’ as Venom said, Gwen and (Y/n) finally separated. Gwen curled up on (Y/n)’s body like a cat. In (Y/n)’s mind a full blown fiesta was going on between Conquest and (Y/n) as they both celebrated ‘getting the girl.’ Sadly, the good time was not to last as one of the stage hands walked over.

“Miss Stacy. You’re on now.” He said before walking away. Gwen groaned in annoyance as she rolled off (Y/n)’s body and into a standing position.

“And I was just getting comfy too” She moaned. (Y/n) chortled at this remark and stood as well, stretching his arms as he did so.

“Will a kiss be enough?” (Y/n) asked slyly, a coy smile appearing on his lips. Gwen smirked back.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I might need further convincing” Gwen said challengingly

“Nope, deals off then.” (Y/n) said with a confident smirk of his own. Gwen’s smile fell away, replaced instead by a look of shock.

“What? That wasn’t how this was meant to go.” She outraged but (Y/n) kept smiling.

“Then you best finish this concert” Gwen opened her mouth to say something, but the unyielding shouting of the waiting fans stopped her.

“You better not forget” Warned Gwen as she started to walk away.

“I’ll be here when you finish.” (Y/n) said.

Gwen turned around, intent of saying some kind of snarky remark. But what she saw chilled her blood. (Y/n) stood happily, a smile on his face and without a care in the world. Behind him, a man dressed in all black from head to toe, with a small firearm in his hand, the gun barrel was pointed directly at (Y/n)’s head. Time seemed to slow for Gwen, willing Venom to her aid she reached out with an arm molded by the Symbiote as it stretched towards (Y/n), intent of pushing him out of harm’s way. The man fired his gun, a flash of fire erupted from the barrel as the empty shell flew from the gun and the deadly bullet started its journey. (Y/n)’s smile slowly dropped and his eyes widened as he saw Gwen using the Symbiote and Gwen couldn’t help but feel the hurt in her chest at this. But she needed to save (Y/n)… Even if he hated her afterwards. Gwen and Venom yelled with defiance as they surged towards (Y/n)… But the gunman was closer. The bullet entered the back of (Y/n)’s head with an explosion of blood and gore as it travelled through his skull and into his brain. Gwen screamed in sadness and rage as (Y/n) fell lifeless to the dirty floor.

At the sound of the gunshot the crowd outside quieted before most screamed in shock and panic, running for the exits as security guards swarmed the grounds. The mysterious invader fled the scene, knowing his contract was finished. Venom wanted to go after the villain but Gwen was too distraught with sadness and loss to do anything more than rush to (Y/n)’s side. The White Widow looked into (Y/n)’s dead eyes and tears left her own.

“No, no, no.” Gwen muttered, rolling (Y/n) to the side she noticed how irreversible the wound was. (Y/n) was gone, forever. And the was nothing Gwen could do about it.

“Catch him.” Hissed Venom “Kill him, rip him apart! Make him suffer!” And for once, Gwen couldn’t agree more.

Venom overtook Gwen’s body. The symbiote’s black body encased Gwen, turning her into a living weapon. Serrated blade like teeth covered Gwen’s face as they shifted to form a mouth. Two milky white, curved eyes curved around the top of Gwenom’s head as her body grew slightly bigger, leaner and deadlier. Now fully morphed into Gwenom, Gwen relinquished control of her mind. Sadness, guilt and anger coursed through Venom’s mind, making it stronger. Sniffing the air around it, Venom locked on to the scent of the attacker and blocked all other thoughts from its mind.

“I’m going to shred you into an appetizer” It growled, leaping from where it stood, away from the stage.

Meanwhile, as soon as the bullet hit (Y/n), Conquest hadn’t stopped working. Because Conquest had bonded with (Y/n) organs and primarily his brain, Conquest was able to fix most wounds. But a direct headshot from almost point black range was proving to be difficult. The Klyntar worked as fast as it could to repair damage, luckily because Conquest’s home is inside (Y/n)’s brain, the symbiote had taken the piercing and brute force of the bullet, stopping it from actually hitting the brain. But the wound could still prove to be fatal.

“Come on. If you die, I die” Conquest muttered to himself as the wound on (Y/n)’s head slowly but surely stitched itself back together. “Alright, heads working… Thirty seconds until complete body failure… Need to restart heart.” Conquest listed. Tendrils of silver rushed through (Y/n)’s veins, heading for his heart. (Y/n)’s heart had stopped beating, Conquest could feel (Y/n)’s life drift away and doubled his efforts. The tendrils of silver spun around inside (Y/n)’s heart like a typhoon. Slowly, the muscles of (Y/n)’s heart began to expand and contract. Slowly at first as if the muscle was being driven by a cautious snail, then the beats grew faster and faster, suddenly (Y/n)’s heart was racing and Conquest could feel the blood pumping again. And his hard work paid off as (Y/n)’s eyes snapped open.

Venom had only one goal in mind. Slaughter the person responsible for (Y/n)’s death in the most gruesome way possible. Cars and trucks passed underneath Gwenom as they zipped across building tops. The smell of nicotine and gunpowder led Gwenom across the city, for just one man living in New York, he sure knew how to move. But Gwenom didn’t falter, the anger and rage spurred her on like a combustion engine of pure fury. Venom’s symbiotic abilities allowed Gwen to move faster and hit harder. And so, when Gwenom leapt through the air and saw the masked murderer that had killed their (Y/n), they shot their symbiotic limbs around the individual on the streets, trapping them in a jail of inky darkness. The other civilians on the streets screamed in terror as Gwenom pulled herself to the ground, her legs outstretched towards the assailant. Gwenom could feel bones breaking under their feet as their target slammed into the ground. The tendrils of Venom’s flesh snaked their ways back into their host as Gwenom crawled atop the murderer.

“Who. Are. YOU!” Gwenom screeched, ripping off the assaliant’s mask revealed a man with short black hair and terrified black eyes. The man tried to reach for his gun which had skidded across the sidewalk. But Gwenom saw this and, taking the man’s hand in her own clawed one, broke every bone in the man’s hand. The man screamed in agony as Gwenom slowly started to pull his arm out of its socket.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!” He shouted, gritting his teeth in pain. The pulling stopped. “I’ll tell you everything… Just please stop” The man pleaded for his life and sanity, but Gwenom wasn’t even half finished with him.

“Too late.” She growled. With inhuman strength, Gwenom leapt into the air pulling the man by his already dislocated and broken hand. With their free hand Gwenom crawled up the side of the nearest building and threw the man onto the roof. He tried desperately to crawl away, even trying to stop the pain by crawling to the ledge… But Gwenom was faster.

Gwenom’s arms bubbled and twisted, changing shape and form until they were no longer hands. But the blades of scythes. The assassin looked on in fear as the vigilante stalked ever closer, weapons set to kill. He closed his eyes and prayed to every religion he could think of for forgiveness as he awaited his death… Which never came. The assassin opened his eyes and saw two swirling points of darkness directly in front of his eyes and the only thing between them and himself, were two tendrils of silver. There was a loud crash as something crawled up the side of the building, following the two silver tendrils. And as it appeared over the ledge, the assassin couldn’t help but faint. Another symbiote. This time its body was a lustrous silver with swirling red eyes of similar shape to that of Gwenom. Rows of black razors filled its mouth and despite having a male appearance was exceptionally lean and built for speed.

“Stop! Now!” Warned the Silver Symbiote, its voice sounding like the other symbiotes, a mix between Klyntar and its host, two voices acting as one. Gwenom took a step back in surprise, its scythe blades crossing over their chest in a defensive stance.

“Who are you?” asked Gwenom, the silver symbiote stepped forward, walking over the unconscious man and stepping closer to Gwenom who growled in warning.

“We, are Conquest.” Conquest explained “And you need to stop Gwen.” Gwenom recoiled in shock.

“How do you know that name?” they asked cautiously.

“Because I know you. Venom is controlling you Gwen. Don’t let it take away what you already have.” Conquest tried to negotiate terms.

“We work together. I don’t control her!” Gwenom said

“Gwen wouldn’t kill for revenge. The Gwen I know would do everything in her power to find another way.” Conquest continued, taking another step forward.

“Then you don’t know me at all!” shouted Gwen, her voice acting on her own and sounding close to tears.

“I know you love music. I know you love your friends… I know you hate pickles with a scary passion. Let me help you Gwen.”

Gwenom screamed in pain, their scythe hands turning back to claws as they gripped their head. Conquest stood nearby, watching the scene unfold before him with a curious gaze. Finally, when Gwenom looked up, Conquest knew it wasn’t going to be fun for the next few minutes. Gwenom launched themselves at Conquest and together the four flew off the side of the building, smashing through the glass of the account’s offices across the street. The two symbiotes rolled through the boring grey cubicles, razing everything in their paths. Papers, files and computers flew and smashed around the offices as black punches were traded with silver kicks. It looked to be a stalemate, neither Gwenom nor Conquest giving in but as Conquest sent a devastating uppercut directly to Venom’s head it seemed Conquest had the upper hand. Until Venom’s arms morphed back into scythes and with one swift motion she cut everything in the room clean in half. Seeing the attack coming, Conquest’s whole body twisted together until it became a swirling mass in the form of a ball. Gwenom’s usually powerful attack, bounced off harmlessly. Venom’s attack triggered the alarms, sirens started blaring and the fire suppression system kicked in, showering the two combatants with water. As Gwenom stumbled back in confusion, Conquest uncurled from its ball and sprung at Venom. The mad Symbiote could do nothing as Conquest pushed it to the ground, straddling its waist and pinning its limbs and any other tendrils it formed to the ground.

Gwenom screeched in disapproval. “Last chance Venom. Leave Gwen.” Commanded the silver symbiote.

“NEVER!” hissed Venom, staring directly into its opponents red eyes. With a growl of defiance, a small tendril of silver, snaked its way from Conquest’s chest. It moved slowly, carefully through the air towards Venom who withered and flailed underneath its captor. Gwenom watched as the small tendril slithered its way around her face before suddenly jabbing into the space between her eyes. From a third perspective it was a sight to behold. As Gwenom screeched and withered in pain, the symbiote was actually being forcefully, removed from Gwen’s body. The black form of the Klyntar swirled around the silver body of Conquest, molding together with the other symbiote forming inky black, constantly moving rows around its body. Eventually, as the last of the Venom symbiote was extracted from Gwen’s body, the drummer laid on the ground her breathing heavy, a look of fear on her face as she backed away from Conquest having no way to defend herself. She didn’t get far, barely three inches before Gwen felt a wall pressed up against her back.

“Who, who are you?” Gwen managed to stammer, despite the majority of her strength being sapped away with the Venom symbiote who now swirled around Conquest’s body like moving armour.

“You need not be afraid Gwen. We wish you no harm.” Conquest proclaimed, kneeling down in front of the drummer. Gwen watched with fear as black tendrils swirled in with silver before Conquest began to shrink in size. If Gwen was scared before, it was nothing compared to now, when she found that not only was he alive, but (Y/n) had a symbiote. His kind, friendly face seemed so alien now. Gwen felt as though he had lied to her since the beginning.

“You’re… alive?” Gwen whispered, not trusting herself to speak any louder.

“I just got you. I’m not losing you.” (Y/n)’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. It was a miracle that Gwen could hear him over the sounds of the sirens.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gwen asked, caressing (Y/n)’s face, leaning against the wall with the man she had just recently fought standing over her, protecting her from the downpour from the sprinklers. Even though Gwen’s body was already soaked, from her jeans to her top.

“I could say the same thing” was the answer (Y/n) gave. Gwen trialed a smile and, for her efforts, received one back.

“Touché. Mister Hill.” Gwen spoke.

“Wanna get outta here? I think I can hear police storming the building.” (Y/n) offered Gwen his hand. Blue eyes looked into (Y/n)’s own. And by the time the police kicked the doors down, (Y/n) and Gwen were already long gone.

“SINCE WHEN CAN SYMBIOTES FLY!” Gwen screamed as she clung to Conquest’s back, two insectoid-like wings keeping the pair in the clouds.

“Since they realized that shape-shifting is the coolest power ever.” (Y/n) replied “No more swinging around for this guy” Gwen had to admit she felt a little saddened by this, remembering the time (Y/n) had clung so tightly to her body on the way to the concert. The city of New York seemed akin to a painting, as Gwen and (Y/n) flew over the city. Gwen looked at the swirling black marks on Conquest’s silver body and grimaced.

“Do, do they talk to you?” asked Gwen over the sound of rushing air.

“Conquest keeps Venom in check, most times. I dunno, it’s weird. Never heard of two symbiotes on one body before. Although I must admit I’m flattered that you and Venom had so many plans to get my attention.” Gwen blushed at the last part and slapped the black lines on the body beneath her.

“Bad Venom.” She muttered.

Two months had passed since Gwen and (Y/n) became more than friends. During which they talked about each other, telling each other their secrets. Gwen learned that (Y/n) was from another universe and (Y/n) learned that Gwen wanted to dye her hair pink. Gwen didn’t apparently have many secrets besides being Spider-Woman. Today the pair were taking a day off, that led to them taking the entire week off from work with S.H.I.E.L.D. Gwen had taken (Y/n) for a drive out of the city, to a nearby lake side cabin she used to frequent with her parents. The cabin itself could have down with a makeover but it was the lake that made the two want to stay. With crystal clear, sparkling waters filled with life it was no wonder that most of the day was spent in the water, which was conveniently heated by a series of tiny, underground, harmless lava rivers which made the water a comfy twenty-two degrees Celsius. Gwen had wanted to surprise (Y/n) on the trip and so she brought her special swimming suit. It was fashioned after her spider-woman uniform with a pink inside covered with neon blue ‘webbing’ lining. The outside was often white but the bikini top that was attached to her hood had two black diamonds covering her breasts and her bottoms had a large black patch covering her nether regions while two white straps held the garment securely to Gwen’s body. When (Y/n) had first seen Gwen wearing such astounding clothing he had immediately submerged his lower half in the water. Likewise, Gwen felt aroused often due to (Y/n) physique. While he wasn’t a ripped jock with bulging muscles. (Y/n) still had a somewhat defined stomach with only hits of fat and Gwen smiled to herself thinking he was just more cuddly, despite hosting two of the most dangerous living aliens on the planet inside himself. The two spent their days, having fun in the water and the nights roasting marshmallows over an open fire. After a strenuous make out session which involved Gwen wearing her Spider-Woman outfit, (Y/n) was resting his head atop Gwen’s breasts, her arm wrapped over his waist, pulling him closer.

“That was great” Said Gwen, looking at the webbing hanging from the ceiling. “I always wanted to try that.”

“I think you need to work on your Spiderwoman kiss. Considering that you dropped a few extra inches.” (Y/n) said remembering the first time Gwen had tried to perform her new favorite kiss only to misjudge the distance and shoved her crotch in her boyfriend’s face.

“You liked it” Cooed Gwen. (Y/n) decided not to dignify that with a response. The pair laid there on their bed, content with each other. Neither of them knew that when they would next wake, their lives would never be the same again.

#Spidergwen x reader #Gwen x reader #Gwen stacy x reader #readerinsert #marvel #submission

[mynameisdreartblog]

Romantic Composers 1

Aries: Amy Beach. Instigation is such an amazing concept: there can be absolutely no why behind any of your actions. For instance, I could pick up this turd out of my toilet and throw it against the bathroom wall. «Yes, but will you? Heaven knows you can’t commit.» Ah, you see, that’s the point: I don’t have to commit. The mere thought of it is already changing the circumstances we reside in. «I can agree: I went from thinking your weird to thinking you’re incredibly weird: The turd-slinger lifestyle took a hold of you.» Mór, I’ll toss as much shit as I desire. […]  <The setting shifts towards a misty field, where there is a howling wind blowing the red fumes of a nearby cauldron. They lead back to a druid’s cave, known as such because there’s a sign that says there’s a druid in it.> «Ha ha ha! What lies instore for our duo? I sense irrational actions and grievous misfortune.» <A stereotypically timed lighting strike occurs in the background.> […]  «Réa, what’s up with you? You’re looking out at nothing with your hands on the toilet seat.» …Fucking hell, I think I sensed something devilish among here. <Réamonn takes their other hand out of the toilet, still soaked from the toilet water. Mór grabs their hand and shoves it back into the toilet bowl with an angry expression.> «What? No. If you’re gonna be here, you should commit to the bit!» <An argumentative feud erupts between the two.> Aye, you fucking cunt! I know when to stop, and you’re the one taking this too far. «Not to be a joker, but you’re far too deep in the shite to quit now.» […] <We return back to the mist of the druid’s cave, and here we can see him cackling at the recent misfortune he brewed.> «Ha ha ha! I’m the mastermind behind all of the world’s divisive pitifulness! So much that I killed my previous assistant over scratching my rings!» <The druid’s crow squawks at him, because druid’s have birds now.> «Right, I know that’s a horrible tale, but nobody’s around to hear it!» […] <We cut back to Réamonn and Mór fighting.> «What’s gotten into you?» That’s, argh, what I’m, humph, trying to f-figure out! <Toilet water begins to splash all over the room.> «Right, next thing you’re gonna tell me that you decided that you’re the plumber.» <So, the two mess around in the bathroom for what seems like an hour until Réa’s mum comes in to yell at both of them.> «What the fuck are the both of you doing? I’ve been trying to take a shower in the other bathroom this whole time, and the only thing that’s been running is water colder than the farmer’s bog in November!»

Gemini: Louis Gottschalk. I smell someone, someone fishy here. It smells like someone here has a recent history of being too comfortable with colonialist apologia for French actions. Hmm, who is this person? I guess we’ll never know: We may never be able to find the baguette. Mmm, I can just smell the sweet, delectable French bread from here. Mmm, mmm, mmm… <Heavy sniffing starts to occur, with it rampantly becoming more violent.>  Damn, it just smells SO GOOD. The French did nothing wrong except make these beignets way too damn mouth-watering: Mmm, mmm, mmm. Damn, I’d love me some of them right now to fill up my gullet. I just can’t control myself around that sweet French bread: I haven’t harmed anyone yet, but if they got in the way of my French bread, you’d have no idea what I’d do to get it. MMM, MMM, MMM. That French bread just makes me wanna <scronch>, and then <freerf>, and then <sus>. Mmm, mmm, mmm, I can smell it from here: It tastes so good; I need it in my tummy immediately. I never had a full piece of French bread before. FREERF, YEERF, SLUUURP, GADORF, MEONG, PADOOK, GURK LURP, SCHLIPPITY SCHLURP, PUHTAW, OOKARH, MEONG, DING DONG, KALOOKA, NOISOME, MMM. I love bread a lot, more than I loved my own family: My own family was turned into bead and sliced up by this maniac who loved pizza as much as I loved bread. I am a yeast of my own parts, I denounce my citizenship and move to France, I am now the one sane person left in this world. GAJOINK, BREKKIE, LOLISH, NAMBODE, ANGKOR WATT, MIRANDA WARNING, ZOOMIES, BOOMIES. I love bread. […] As you know, I’m quite the fan of bread, and I have a loaf of it right now. I think it’s time to "dive right in" as they say. [,] PUHTAW, that was awful! I took may too much bread in my mouth, but that was my favorite onomatopoeia to describe how this bread came out of my mouth. TIGERS JAW, SHOSPEL COLUPIS, SWOOCE, FUNNY BREAD, BREAD FUNNY, WOO, YAY, HURRAY FOR BREAD. ’Cause if you don’t <freerf>, then you can’t <swooce>, so how are you gonna <sus> or <jodge>? It just doesn’t make <se-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ns.> Hamburger: You make a hamburger with bread. Can’t have a hamburger with no bread! MMM, MMM, MMM, I love hamburgers. <jodge.>  […] But seriously, we all know that defending empires is bad? I don’t care if that empire gives you as much bread as you want, you’re still a slave and only through that empire can you get measly bread: Not the fulfilling kind of bread, the crumbs of the crumbs.

Scorpio: Giuseppe Verdi. <We’re greeted to a bustling city scene, there are many people on the street: Some wacky, some not so wacky. Here, we see Juyeon walking with her mom to the local market because she’s short of cabbage.> Mom, why are we here? «Your father always eats an absurd amount of cabbage, sweetie. And he gets very grumpy and resistant to doing chores when he doesn’t have it, so that’s why we’re here.» <Juyeon never believed that story; she never saw her dad eat a single piece of lettuce before.> Okay <she says in a very unsatisfied voice. All the while, the bustling of the urbanity dominates the atmosphere. Somehow, in the midst of this crowd, Juyeon’s ears pick up on a particular voice.> «I’m a lost adventurer, looking for the rest of my forgotten crew! Who wants to volunteer to be the child character in the middle of an adventure group that has to travel through hell and back? We’re looking for any psychic children to help aid us on our journey.» <The lost adventurer kept yelling this ad from the cat-corner, and in the midst of those words, the term "psychic children" caught Juyeon’s ear.> Say, mister! <Juyeon notices her mom eyeing cabbage, and takes this opportunity to investigate something her mom would normally disagree with. Hesitantly, the adventurer noticed Juyeon wobbling towards them.> You said something about psychic children, mister? «Why, yes! You must know that, prior to this, I was part of a band of four with the guts like me: We travelled many lands many dimensions even. We were all so young and filled with a look of wonder towards all we did.» Lots of kids have done what you said, but you’re trying to say there was something special about yours? Also, this must’ve been a long time ago ’cause you look like you’re my mom’s age. [,] «What you never knew is that we were all blessed with psychic powers… Long story short: They ended up being a burden to ourselves after our journey was done, and we tore each other apart spiritually.»  [,] All of that sounds cool, but I feel like it’s a bit too, uh…  «Hamfisted?» It has nothing to do with ham, but I kinda get the "fist" part. [,] It’s a bit… «Ominous?» Isn’t that like, a fruit? I don’t get it is what I’m saying. Where does the psychic stuff come from? Why did you end up here out of all places? Why did you grow out of it? Like, ugh, I don’t know… I thought this would be cool, but now I’m not sure. [,] «Hmm, I can tell, whenever you came into my line-of-sight, that there was something whimsical about you: A part of you that has yet to transcend into regression with age. You’re asking where the psychic energy comes from not out of cynicism but curiosity… I might as well demonstrate to you where it comes from.» <The lost adventurer points their fingers up into the air, channels an energy, and a bolt of technicolor light courses through it from above. As soon as Juyeon would be able to understand the demonstration, her mother angrily grabs her and pulls her back into the market.> «Don’t run off like that!»

Capricorn: Hector Berlioz. <There’s a grand trunk that spikes out from the rest of the wetlands: It towers over all the other ghostly trees. It seems to represent a glimpse into the future: One emphasized by its continued existence over the temporariness of the other woods around it.> «Are those wetlands, Mr. Robichaux?» You know, I like to say there’s no dumb questions, but that’s a dumb question: We are miles away from any wetlands. <The shuttle-bus hops up a bit as it goes over a bit of uneven road, causing Ikto to lose their hold on the window.> «I don’t know, it looks pretty swampy to me.» All swamps are wetlands, but not all wetlands are swamps. You learned this in third-grade science, c’mon now. <The shuttle-bus full of the band kids rolls over yet another snag in the road, causing turbulence that allows a mic-stand in the back to fall over.> Oof, that sounded like it was expensive: Good thing it’s not coming out of my paycheck and I can still afford ravioli. <As soon as that sound was created, the neglected oak remarked about earlier had water vapor gravitating towards it, an unusual sign in nature for sure. We cut back to Vinnie attempting to fill out a crossword puzzle about sewing terms: Something far out of his purview and a task made only more difficult by the rocking of the bus.> Itko, er, <Vinnie forgets the real name of the student.> Do you know what they call the machine involved in all yarn production processes? «That’s called a spinneret, Mr. Robichaux.» Is that spelled with two Ts and an E? Because that doesn’t fit in the boxes given. «There’s only one T with no extra E at the end.» Ah, perfect. <The water vapor condenses more and more around the grand trunk to the point where, despite the bus being two miles away from it, has already spawned storm clouds around its natural base. We cut back to Vinnie filling out #9 on the crossword puzzle.> «Nobody told us it was gonna rain outside today. Look, there’s already grey clouds in the sky!» <That could be heard from another student in the back of the bus: Vinnie either didn’t hear this or he willfully ignored it. He begins to whisper angrily to himself:> What kinda question is that: "Disengages all but the bobbin weaver?" Like I’m supposed to know any of this! <The collected water formed around the tree stump brings upon a ferocious storm: One with a name and a vengeance. Immediately, the storm moved at unreal speeds towards the bus. «It’s really windy right now!» How do you know that? Is it because you’re sticking your hands out the window, like you shouldn’t be doing‽ «I wasn’t sticking any of my limbs out the window!» Yeah, right. <Audible thunder edges closer to the bus, prompting the bus-driver, Elm, to push harder on the pedal. Ikto speaks up again.> «Mr. Robichaux, I’m scared of that tree.» Relax, it’s only the sign of a story before heading onto the highway: It means nothing and it’s distracting you. <A beam of concentrated lighting zooms past Vinnie’s window, likely a missed shot from the vengeful oak. Vinnie is too busy focusing on the puzzle to even notice.> Why are you all being so loud?

#Zodipunc #Zodiaccupuncture #Aries #Gemini #Scorpio #Capricorn