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mischas · 8 days

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i think you’ve talked abt this on the blog before but the js decision that sethmer was the “light/fun” couple and ryissa was the “dark/angsty” couple genuinely aided in the destruction of the show. the balance was so much better in s1 - there’s a sweetness to ryissa that’s never replicated again (for obvious bts reasons ofc, but the writing didn’t help either) and the push and pull of sethmer feels rlly natural instead of how contrived it becomes in late s2 and with the college arc. having the comic book storyline happen alongside the trey storyline is laughable and is probably when the show starting jumping the shark when it comes to relationships. there was so much depth to sethmer that got wasted and of course josh & stephanie’s only storyline ideas for marissa were just ways to punish mischa.

It absolutely did. It's ridiculous and shoots them all in the foot early. The shifts in s2 were massively impacted by irl stuff though so bts dynamics and writing were going hand in hand. I reckon they were going hand in hand all the way back in s1 too and we just didn't totally know about that until recently. At least I didn't. Not as much, at least. The bts stuff also comes from JS' preference for Rachel and SS as his self-insert relationship that only grows as s1 progresses. It just does, and that we've known for a long time. I think there was some old late s1 press saying the writers were partial to SS and were never gonna make them unlikeable. And it's just like... ok then. First off, being likeable has nothing to do with emotional resonance and grounded storytelling. There's a reason Adam says their stuff should've been stretched for entire seasons to really make things impactful and tell a worthwhile story. And I think he says it in the nicest way possible, but he's basically saying they never made it meaningful enough. Or at least beyond s1 they didn't.

Seth's 127 departure is so impactful on 201 and that iconic scene at the end of 202 but then it's mentioned like... one more time in 214? Summer spends s2 mad at him but flirting with him in the same breath. And that's fun but like... give us something meatier. We later learn in 310 that Summer's mother abandoned her. Let's dig into that!! And how Seth leaving and coming back expecting a reunion was incredibly fucked up! But they just do not go there ever in a real way and it's too bad. Seth has done fuck all to deserve Summer's forgiveness/love in 214 but he gets it anyway. And his obsessing over her sex life is not cute!!!!

I'm sure I've written entire books worth of content about RM needing more lightness. Their s1 balance being what it is just makes me more sus of bts influence. Marissa's dealing with SA/death/violence/depression/substance abuse this whole time and they can never spread that wealth around to ensure everyone's got some good drama going on. It's essentially that Squidward window meme from s2 on, lol.

#ask #anonymous #i also think moral superiority is a big thing going on with both couples #marissa and seth are always the screw ups #203 is them being like... damn i guess we're both fucking this up huh #with marissa/mischa that feels very bts-influenced though #who knows with ss #it's never made total sense to me why ryan is so avoidant of marissa in s2 and why marissa is made to unevenly Pine #but now we know

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girlbosspyrrha · 7 months

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rip oscar. really won the lottery of absent father figures

#rwby #art #oscar pine #everyone loves playing the 'what if ___ was a father figure to oscar' card.#how about the fact that they've all screwed him over in one way or another. huh

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ask-ursa-tonypeter · 3 months

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[pyrite: tony, pyrite: peter, and maybe also ursa interlude, if you'd like?] How would Tony react if Peter developed a crush on someone else/started dating someone? How would Peter react if Tony kept meeting other people? And also, how would either of them *feel*?

Tony: What, am I supposed to expect him to moon over me forever? Of course he's going to mess around with other people. No doubt he's going to go off to college and find some good girl to marry and have boring sex with and pop out a few brats to carry on the Stark legacy. Poor kid.

-----

Peter: Well-- I mean-- it's not like we're dating, so-- I mean, I know how he is, I'm not expecting… We're just, just, it's casual, so.

…It would probably, um. Bother me a little if he brought someone home again while I was there. But that's, just, like-- I'm just being immature.

#fic: pyrite #pyrite: tony #pyrite: peter #ursa interlude:#tony's side of this is a not-insignificant part of the sequel so 🤐#on peter's side... he really doesn't expect tony to stop being a playboy for him #he has zero inkling that tony might actually have legit feelings for him so he does accept that they're just screwing around #but it would make him a little sad in that just like. wistful pining over a crush way #and like he said he would be more actively upset over tony actually bringing someone home

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dollsome-does-tumblr · 1 year

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okay i did not expect to get attacked like this by LEGO JURASSIC WORLD

(glad i did though)

#alan grant: still pining as a lego!!!!!!!!!!!!#(also that guy falling off the boat in the background lol #this show is deranged and i like that)#alan x ellie #grantler #jurassic world #legend of isla nublar #mine: jurassicverse #mine #PROVIDING QUALITY POSTS TO TUMBLR.COM SINCE ALWAYS #love how everyone who were not the creators of jpiii has historically been like 'SCREW THIS; THIS SUCKS!' @ the grantler breakup

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arthursbubblebutt · 10 months

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So I have been thinking

This fic where Arthur doesn't become king and other fics where Morgana is the regent when he's away and maybe a webtoon I have read made me have an idea where Arthur became Morgana's knight and supported her ascension to the throne

And when everything is just too peaceful, Merlin comes in as Gaius' new apprentice, and Arthur gets a little too distracted during meetings with the physicians shadow in tow.

Morgana on the throne and being the girlboss that she is doesn't necessarily want a husband/king yet and just wants to focus on her people, but the council has been pressuring her for an heir of course she has said that Arthur is her heir but even then Arthur has stated he does not want to even be considered on the throne and just wants to be her guard/advisor

Now that's just context. The scene I'm thinking of is like

"If they want an heir, then they'll have an heir." Morgana stands and walks to the window to watch over the people down in the courtyard.

"And how are you going to manage that, dear sister?" Arthur says when he grabs an apple off her plate and takes a bite, watching her brow furrow.

"I do not want to be married at this time, and the councilors have been pushing their sons at me, similar to how you would stuff your face with bacon." Morgana's grimace twists into a smile when she hears an indignant squawk made in the direction where she left Arthur.

"So, not one of their sons which have been given to you on a platter."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Arthur."

"Hmm."

"A noble would just want to covet the throne for themselves - they would undermine my rule until they are the only one the councilors will listen to."

"A commoner then?"

"Yes, but even then, they would use the child as a way to say they have a right to the throne." Morgana's gaze never strays from looking out the window trying to think of something. She could have Arthur's children as an heir, but who knows when that will be or even if that will happen, and she doesn't want the councilors foaming at the mouth to introduce their daughters to her brother; eager to have their family mixed in the royal bloodline. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

Bloodlines, she huffs at that. She would rather adopt, but then she doesn't want to deal with the headache the council will induce when she brings up the thought.

"A contract then, and someone who will honor that contract." Arthur muses outloud.

A flash of familiar raven hair catches her attention as well as when they fumble a basket full of herbs she recognizes the royal physician having. A smile curls her lips when the thought of her brother flustered in being bandaged up by the kind apprentice. An idea forms in her mind then.

"Someone of common birth and that does not desire the position they could potentially hold." She turns to her brother then, eating another fruit from her platter.

Arthur sees the traces of mischief in his sister's eyes that he has grown to be wary of in their youth. He straightens his shoulders when she walks over to the table and takes a grape from his hand. "I was going to eat that," his eyes narrow when she just laughs and eats the grape.

"I think I know the perfect candidate."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Someone who is of common birth?

"Yes."

"Someone who will stay in their position when they could easily climb the latter to a luxurious life beside the Queen?"

"Indeed, dear brother."

"And who's the idiot that would do that?"

"Merlin."

#potentially mergana but could also be morgana wanting to give Arthur a push #she sees them pining and wants their heads screwed on right #merthur #arthur pendragon #morgana #bbc merlin #drabble #fic idea #dinner writes itself

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asterouslyaesthetic · 11 months

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so i know we already have the whole "older brother of a woman linked to us via dreams also dreaming of us" shtick covered by hríd, but we also have freyr apparently and it's been living in my head rent-free forever

this is his level 40 confession:

Long, long ago...I dreamt of a summer day spent beneath the sun's rays...And you were standing beside me in that dream, [Summoner]... There is no mistake. That was a true dream... It was a promise made by the future. How will the dream continue from here, I wonder... Of course, knowing would detract from the mystique. Dreams form our desires and shape the future...but for now, let us simply drift off into the summer sun.

how long ago was long, long ago...because for me, my mind immediately jumped to tiny freyr—with short hair and only a single braid instead of two and his eyes closed all the time still, but his face still manages to reveal his emotions when he does not give it permission to, particularly when his sister is involved—waking up as a voice inside his older self's brain, able to see and feel everything he does but unable to exert any influence, because he has always had some influence over dreams and that extends to visions of the future.

and there's this pretty mortal in a sundress who sits next to him as he's simply laying down, and when she says his name, his older self opens his eyes, only to be rewarded with salt water sprinkled at his face and a beautiful smile that makes his heart pound.

but he's so young and she's a mortal, and the only thing young freyr concedes that day is that it's nice to see freyja having fun with a friend.

the visions, bits and pieces out of context that show a wonderful future, don't stop after that day, as if to taunt him for when he disregarde, the clear signs that he grows to love her, because he does and how is it hard to when she cares for freyja so deeply that his sister is willing to trouble herself for the mortal's sake?

those in the palace begin whispering after the fifth time he bumps into the wall with a soft smile on his face.

he sees her past and sees her variable future—some things are fixed, but others are not. he sees her in a wedding gown, as a happy bride and a sad bride, he sees her with children, and he sees her grow old, whether alone or with her variable husbands; most of them are kings, but only three are of Midgard, and of those, one is only a grand duke, beloved brother to the empress.

(never with him)

he sees her in a beautiful deep red dress, on a balcony with only the company of fireworks; he hears the way his heart pounds, and remembers what he once thought; and though there is no recognition in her eyes, she welcomes him to her side all the same

but what should be the start of a two-sided relationship, an acknowledgement of him from her, becomes a time he hopes will never exist

because it isn't until much later that he learns what his sister attempts to do, how she traps the mortal in a neverending dream—about his death and the last thing he sees. to see her smile at him one last time...that much, at least, is granted to him.

but ironically, his desperate attempts to convince freyja to avoid such a path, to leave the beautiful mortal alone, are what drive her into consolidating her plans—and she never realizes, not until they both are willed into existence in Askr, that it wasn't simply a matter of loving mortals; that it was a matter of loving one mortal and wanting her to be happy to a self-sacrificial point.

because his death and freyja's, they are fated, they are fixed, and the prospect of them surviving even once means that they will have changed the future in all timelines. because they, like those of ymir, or hel, or vanir and asgard, exist outside of time—singular entities watching over all worlds—but are still beholden to it.

and then he is summoned, to her, and she smiles the way she did the first time. and freyr, he makes himself a promise. to be helpful in whatever way he can—to be the shoulder she can lean on when she's tired, the ears that listen to her sorrows.

and when summer brings along with it a warmth in the breeze, she takes him—and his sister, and his fairies, and her fairies, and all her other heroes—to a familiar scenery.

a familiar scene, salt water on his face, the beginning of his downfall.

the beginning of his love.

as a hero, his powers are restricted. he has no clue what goes on in the minds of his other selves summoned to other askrs, as he would've if he'd been alive. whether they're as lucky as he is, if they also "get the girl"

when night falls, he confesses his dream to her, his eyes still closed. she's quiet for a while, before she asks him about his words, about whether the dream formed his desires.

and when a quiet yes slips from his lips, and he tells her about wanting to be at her side, her smaller hand lightly grasps his own and feels something soft on his cheek, near his lips

"mine too. my desires...as well, since that dream. when you first approached me."

(telling freyja results in a tantrum from her and an attempted deescalation that his beloved takes far too much glee in.

by week 3, his sister pouts when he expresses his affection for his lover and mixes salt in her coffee, but there remains no malice in her actions.)

#feh kiran #feh freyr #feh freyja #fire emblem heroes #i just really like freyr for some reason #like yes hríd gets points for being a loyal sword and the warm hands thing #but i am overall fonder of book 4 than 2 so that probably plays a part #i just think soft freyr pining for the pretty mortal who makes his heart race #only to realize he has no chance of being with her #and screwing them all over by accident #is very funny #his reaction to book 7 is probably very amusing especially the seidr thing #also i let him get the girl because i felt like not getting the girl even once was too tragic #even for me who likes contract marriage mutual pining not actually unrequited au líf/kiran pre-hel with kids #only to learn they loved each other all along as she dies in his arms #and apologizes for not being able to save everyone #at which point he goes mad with grief and proceeds to kill other versions of her to get her back

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juniemunie · 2 years

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TW/CW: body horror for the last pic

The Gravity Falls high still hasn't run out so I need to draw it all out of my brain

This is completely based off when Alex talked about Bill's original role of being an overpowered side character that only showed up in Dipper's dreams to torment him and throw prophecies and visions to make him paranoid

I also found out how to digital color my traditional art! Its a complete game changer you have no idea

Here's what Alex said verbatim;

"If Dipper was a kid who desperately, desperately wants to know the answers of the universe, there should be a character who knows the answers to the universe, but won’t tell him just to drive him crazy!"

"So I originally imagined that he would show up in Dipper's dreams all the time. Like Dipper would go to sleep, and he started to dream about- you know, Wendy, or video games or whatever, and Wendy would turn her face and it would just be Bill, and he would deliver some cryptic annoying message like; "THE NUMBER SIXTEEN! WATCH OUT FOR AIRPLANES! POMEGRANATES CAUSE BRAIN DAMAGE, BYEEEE!!"

-Alex Hirsch, 2015, Amazing Houston ComicCon

#junie art post #tw: body horror #body horrow cw #does this count as #wendip #i think it technically does #bill cipher #dipper pines #wendy courderoy #gravity falls #bill being his usual creepy screwed up weirdo self #no they did not kiss lmfao i was just too lazy to draw the part where dipper dips wendy or smth cuz drawing wendip is too cringey #in a hilarious way for me #like i could not stop laughing drawing this #this is as wendip as it canonically can get in the show #which is to say forever one sided #wendy corduroy

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athgalla-arts · 2 years

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I got emotional about our old boys. Let them have fun, too!

Zest under the cut, you know the drill.

#Gravity Falls #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #fiddauthor #I need to quit screwing around and work on the steadily growing pile of wips I have #especially the damn ref sheets for my ocs that I keep not working on #also sorry if this looks wonky ugh I couldn't get it quite how I wanted

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buggy-mars · 2 years

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Sketch book request: mystery twins (dip & mabel) with flower crowns? 🥺

"Aw common Mabel I was trying to sit like a cool guy!"

#sketchbook requests #gravity falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #oof my art stamina is running out #mabel's face got all screwed up 😭

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ladysternchen · 7 months

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Yet Were Its Making Good, For This- Tidings Of Life

“Ai my friends, is not life sweet today?” Galadhon asked of his companions, letting himself fall onto his back amidst the soft grass. The stars were twinkling overhead, and the general atmosphere among the captains of Eglador was cheerful. It had become custom over the centuries to meet from time to time for some merrymaking, to discuss matters that had nothing to do with their duties, and more often then not to share some wine or cider or other treats among them. Today it was Beleg who had brought a small sack filled with various nuts, and Galadhon had braved a bee-hive for some honey.

“And what has you so happy? Apart from the fact that you got the honey again without being stung. You never get stung. How do you do it? I went honey-hunting already when your father was a babe in arms, and still I never manage unscathed.”

They all laughed at Beleg’s mild indignation, but also at his boasting. A tiny elfling climbing up a tree to prod the bees for a dare hardly counted as a serious attempt to collect honey, Mablung thought.

“I talk to them, Beleg. They give it freely.”

Galadhon’s tone was one he might adopt to explain to a small child something very obvious.

“Aye, I talk to them, too. But all they ever answer is psssssswwwwwwww”

Beleg made a noise as if of angry bees, which had all his companions double over with laughter. After a while Galadhon sat up again, idly dipping a nut in the honey and popping it into his mouth.

“There is going to be a feast, did you know that?” he asked in response to the question what made him so happy, acting as if the discussion of bees had never been.

“What do you know that we do not?” one of his fellow captains asked suspiciously. Galadhon grinned broadly.

“Many things. But this one, this one is very glad tidings indeed.”

Mablung frowned a little. Thusly announced tidings were always ones of new life, though Mablung felt fairly sure that Galadhon himself was not the one who would welcome a new child into this word, given that his firstborn was still so little. But whatever it was, Galadhon’s joy by itself was a beautiful thing to behold, even if he tried to play over it with his jesting.

“Say on!” the others urged him, and Mablung inwardly groaned, sure that now Galadhon would make this announcement as lengthy as earthly possible just for the fun of leaving them groping in the dark.

“Have a guess.” Galadhon replied with a smirk, instantly proving Mablung right.

But only a moment later, he laughed again, saying: “Nay, you cannot guess. Should I tell you, then? Or let you all be surprised tonight at the feast?”

Mablung saw Beleg smirk, and he, too, had to suppress a grin- as if Galadhon could ever have kept silent.

“Oh, go on then. What is this news?”

Galadhon beamed from one ear to the other.

“Before you, my friends, sits no longer the heir to the crown of Eglador, as my dear aunt, our beloved Queen, is expecting her first child.”

There was a heartbeat of utter silence following that announcement, then everyone seemed to be talking at once.

“What?”

“I didn’t think that was even possible! Oh this is wonderful, wonderful news.”

“How did they do that?”

“Well, how do you think they did it? Need we explain to you how elflings are made, little one?” Beleg teased, and the young captain who had asked the question blushed crimson while he endured the others renewed laughter.

“Oh, you know what I mean. It’s not like the Queen is an elf, is she?”

“Elf enough, apparently.” Galadhon answered earnestly. “But they were both quite surprised that it really worked, too. That’s why they kept quiet for so long. But Melian can’t possibly keep the secret any longer now.”

Alone among them, Mablung had kept silent the entire time. He felt both exhilarated and gutted at the same time, unable to explain his feelings even before himself. He had no reason, no right to feel anything but joy, and yet…

Beleg’s hand on his shoulder tore him out of his musings.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a low whisper.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I? This is wonderful news.”

Beleg smiled gently, and Mablung knew instantly that he could not fool Beleg anymore than he could fool himself.

“Verily. But you know what I meant.”

Mablung kept quiet for a while, then, suddenly, he burst out laughing.

“Help me, Beleg…” he wheezed, trying to whisper while still laughing hysterically. Beleg, perplexed, stood beside him, patting his arm somewhat helplessly.

“Can we… can we talk somewhere? Alone?” Mablung managed to say at long last, noticing with horror that the tears that were running down his cheeks were not solely of mirth. Beleg nodded, leading him away into the woods and to the bank of a little brook that ran burbling between rocks. Mablung splashed his face with the cool water, feeling his usual clam returning to him now.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologise, Mablung. Those news hit you hard, hm?”

Mablung nodded.

“I thought I had outgrown that. I thought I had come to terms with… well, with Elu and Melian and everything.” “And so you have.” Beleg said sternly “You did marvellously, if you would allow me to say so. I am so proud of you, Mablung.”

Mablung was silent for a moment. He truly had thought he had come to terms with it once and for all. His mind was firmly set on the matter, and the gradual change in language had greatly helped him, for he then could use a name to speak to and about his King that he had not uttered in husky whispers while sheathed in him. And yet, being around Elu was still somewhat uncomfortable for Mablung, and being parted from him even more so.

“Please don’t judge me by what I’m going to say now, but… I think that what got to me so much there was… well, to get Melian pregnant, he must have come.”

Mablung screwed up his face even as he said it, knowing perfectly well how stupid that sounded. “And I see him still, Beleg, I know his expression, I know how he feels… Will that never go away? I so, so want to let the past rest, to let him be happy with Melian and their little one, to…”

Beleg gripped his arm firmly.

“Talk to him. Really. You suffer and he suffers just because you’re too embarrassed to admit to what you had. I know that there’s this silent agreement of what happened on the journey stays on the journey, but you cannot deny the bond of friendship you once had? You know Elu probably better than anyone safe Melian, of course that would come to your mind?” Beleg bend over to him, and pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. It was I who got you into this mess in the first place after all.”

Mablung wrapped his arms around Beleg’s neck, holding him tight. What ever would he do without him by his side?

#yet were its making good for this #silmarillion fanfiction #chapter 6 #tidings of life #mablung #beleg cuthalion #galadhon #galadhon IS excited to have a little cousin #pining #remembering #it's the small details sometimes that screw your mind #hurt/comfort- sort of #humor #eglador #YT #ao3

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sanddusted-wisteria · 8 months

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Veritas Vos Liberabit [Part 1/3]

The truth will set you free.

F!Builder/Grace; pre-slash

Warnings: Spoilers for the main quest starting from "The Goat", INCLUDING some early Act 3 content.

Also on AO3

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[Summary contains spoilers, so it's below the cut]

Summary: Mission's over. Time to leave.

But maybe there's still some time for one last talk.

One last truth.

---

A/N: I normally write for a nameless builder, so most of you are probably not acquainted with my builder character, Wisteria. There's not much you need to know about her backstory and such for this fic. Just know that she likes being a bit silly when she can be. I typically pair her with Qi, but this idea with Grace just took a grip on my brain and would not go away. Enjoy!

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6:30 AM.

Still an hour before departure.

Grace shivered and rubbed her bare arms. It was cold. This was her favorite outfit. The only one she could keep. The rest were burned last night. Shame it didn’t do well for anything but the desert high noon.

She kicked idly at a stray strand of sand grass on the otherwise spotless platform. There wasn’t a whole lot else to do. No one to talk to except Jensen, and she’d already made enough small talk with him. Nothing to read. She had no books. She had nothing at all, in fact. The bag next to her was empty. Personal effects of any kind outside of HQ had to be destroyed whenever leaving a mission site. Couldn’t risk any fingerprints or DNA traces. The bag was just a prop to make it look like she was just your average traveler. One that traveled light.

From somewhere in the distance, a door opened and closed. Then came a yawn. It was only because the morning was so quiet that Grace could hear it at all. She knew right away where it came from.

She looked up towards Fresh Pines across the tracks, and Wisteria stretching luxuriously outside her door. She finished with a satisfied grunt and looked up at Grace, giving her a wave. Grace waved back. Wis and Jensen were the only ones who knew when she was really leaving. Grace had given everyone else a different time. Luckily Jensen was a man of honor, and kept his lips sealed. And for everything she’d been dragged into, Wis at least deserved one last truth from Grace. That, and Wis was the one she’d wanted to say good-bye to the most.

Wis crossed the tracks with an easygoing gait. She was in no hurry. She knew Grace wouldn’t try to bolt.

“So,” she said as she stepped onto the platform. “It’s really happening.”

“Yep. Feels…weird.”

“Feelin’ that a lot lately,” Wis muttered, the corner of her lips quirking up. She took a seat next to Grace. “About 50 different types of weird, honestly.”

“Hopefully you can start feeling a little more not-weird now.”

“Maybe,” Wis nodded thoughtlessly, staring into the distance. “Maybe.”

Grace hadn’t seen Wis like this in a while. The ease. Shoulders relaxed without the weight of work or battle. A wistful smile. Wis had several “modes” of sorts, Grace learned. This was her “off” mode, the one for relaxing and hanging out. For getting a drink at the saloon and chatting about this and that. For taking meandering walks about town and chittering about other townsfolk.

Made sense why Grace hadn’t seen it in a while. With the whole Duvos situation, she basically had to stick to her “on” or “battle” modes at all times (and one Yan-flavored occasion where she seemed to flip to “murderous intent” mode, but that was only hearsay as far as Grace knew).

When she wasn’t fighting for her life, she was cranking away at her workshop with the same zeal she always had whenever she got her hands on something new to build, only amplified with the new sense of purpose (Trudy had almost made the mistake of leaving Wis and Qi unsupervised. Not even the Light could save you if that happened.).

“Are you…doing okay?” Wis’s voice knocked Grace out of her thoughts. “Everyone’s been asking me nonstop, but I think someone’s gotta ask you. Y’know, knowing…everything about you.”

“Huh,” Grace said, raising an eyebrow. She was trying to bide a little time by filling the silence. Because truth be told, she didn’t know how to answer. She could try to brush it off with a definitive yes, or try to deflect it with a quip. But Wis wasn’t stupid. She could see through that kind of tactic. But at the same time, if she answered no, Wis would immediately get worried and try to get to the heart of the issue, whatever it was. And Grace didn’t know if she had the headspace right now to sort all that out. Maybe she should—

“Grace?”

Shit. Took too long.

Wis was looking at Grace now, a faint look of concern on her face. “It’s okay if the answer’s no…or if you don’t wanna talk about it too much.”

“Uh…yeah.”

Wis nodded without another word, turning back to look out at the desert landscape.

Meanwhile, Grace’s mind was reeling. She’d been caught off-guard. By such an innocuous question. By Wisteria. Pun-loving-laughy-taffy-ever-so-slightly-naïve Wisteria.

How…?

Every fiber of her body was screaming not to ask, but she just had to. “Did…did you know?”

“About what?”

“Me.”

Wis had the gall to look confused. She umm’d and ah’d a bit. “Nooo…?” she said finally, with the most exaggerated shrug she could make.

“…With a question mark?” A twinge of annoyance twisted Grace’s stomach.

“Uh, yeah, with a question mark. It’s like…” She frowned and held up a finger. Her way of asking for a few moments to puzzle-piece the words together in her head. “Okay, it’s like this: no, I didn’t know about who you really were. But I had a gut feeling that kinda…pointed in that direction.”

“Really?” Grace raised an eyebrow. “What kind of gut feeling?”

“Well, it’s just…” Wis’s fingers clenched like they did when she was nervous. “It’s…ugh.” She huffed. “It’s hard to explain a gut feel, y’know?”

Grace just waited patiently. She’d talk. Her eyes were glimmering like they did when she was pursuing a truth she knew she could find. A look Grace had gotten to know all too well in the past several months.

The crease in Wis’s brow eased. “It’s…it’s like you’ve tried so hard to hide something that it’s obvious that something’s there. You try to dig a hole to bury something and dig so deep and wide that everyone can see the loose dirt.” She met Grace’s eyes, her gaze devoid of pity or disdain. Just…a look. “I could never guess you were a secret agent and all that, but…as we hung out more, I started to feel that something was up. Couldn’t tell what it was, though.”

And with a shift in her stomach, Grace suddenly realized that Wisteria was far better at this job than Grace could ever be.

Grace was skilled, undoubtedly. Years of training from the Alliance’s best made her that way. Forced her to be that way. At the drop of a hat, she could put on a new mask, play a different part, advocate for another devil. She could anticipate what someone would say 5 minutes from now, or steer them to say it 5 seconds from now.

She could always extract what she wanted, be it the truth, a lie, blackmail, or a bribe, as long as she built the right front.

But Wisteria…silly, happy, witty Wisty… She didn’t even need the front. All she had to be was her, and everything and everyone would open up to her eventually. Whatever she wanted would find her sooner or later.

She didn’t need to chase the truth she needed, not as relentlessly as she probably thought she did. All she had to do was exist, here and now. The truth behind Duvos came to her because of who she was. The truth about Grace came to her because of who she was.

So optimistic. So determined. So genuine. So clever. So kind. So warm. So…

…

Wis let out a light sigh, the tiniest curve of a smile on the edge of her lips. Grace only then realized that she was just staring at her.

“I won’t pry, I promise. You’ve still got your secrets to keep. You’ve got a right to that. State-protected or not.” Wis said, stretching out her wrists as she always did when her hands were too still for too long.

Grace quickly got her bearings back, letting out a snort. “Heh. Who’s to say which ones are the ones the government keeps?”

Wis chuckled. “Gotta get a big ‘Top Secret’ stamp right on your forehead.”

“Don’t think I can get you clearance on it then, unfortunately.” Grace smirked.

“Well hey, ask your boss while you’re over there!”

“Oh yeah, and make him extra mad.” Grace rolled her eyes, but her tone was light.

Wis just laughed that bright and genuine laugh. Her purest one, not a sarcastic snort or the stupid guffaws she made after her equally stupid puns.

Grace felt a smile slide up her face. A real one, not a calculated reaction.

So silly.

A rumbling grew under their feet. They turned to see the train from Highwind pulling in.

“Atara-Highwind express, bound for Atara!” Jensen bellowed from the other end of the platform. “Passengers for Atara, tickets ready, please!”

Grace looked back at Wis. There was a look in her eyes that she’d never seen before. Strangely sad. Facing the inevitable.

An impulsive thought suddenly shot through Grace’s head.

Come with me.

Wis would make a great agent. She had the natural talent for it. She was just so naturally disarming.

The train slowed to a halt with a hiss.

They both stood up from the bench. Wis turned to Grace with a warm smile.

Come with me.

Grace could vouch for her. Put in a recommendation. Get her the best training instructors at HQ. She could probably start in the field in less than a year.

“This is it, huh?” Wis muttered.

“Yep.”

Come with me.

Wis opened up her arms, raising an eyebrow. Grace stared blankly. Physical affection was discouraged for agents unless used for manipulative purposes. But Wis…

Grace wrapped her arms around Wis’s waist, somehow managing to ignore the urge to just…fall into her. Wis’s arms closed so warm and securely around her.

Stay with me.

“Stay safe, okay?” Wis murmured, her low voice rumbling through Grace’s chest.

All Grace could muster as a reply was a hum.

After what felt like forever and yet still too soon, Wis let go. Grace swore the morning air was even colder than before.

“You got this,” Wis said. “You’ll do great—no, no…” She held up a finger with a familiar glint in her eye. “You’ll do Grace.” And there was that shit-eating grin.

“Shut up!” Grace laughed as she lightly smacked Wis’s arm. Wis just cackled. Like always.

“Allll aboarrrrd!”

Their laughter petered out. Grace’s feet still weren’t moving.

Wis gave her a nod, the smile never fading from her face.

She took a step towards the open train door. And then another.

She could feel Wis’s dark eyes on the back of her head. She had a heightened sense for when people were staring at her, but Wis’s gaze burned especially hot.

She was on the train now. She set her empty bag down a seat and opened a window facing the platform. There was a jolt as the train started to move.

Wis was still on the platform, moving with the train.

“Your boss sucks!” Wis called with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll be sure to tell him!” Grace called back.

“Good! Tell him to give you a raise, too!”

“He’ll raise the bounty on my head, sure!”

Wis doubled over with laughter. She was at the end of the platform now.

“Graaaaace!”

Grace’s head snapped away from Wis. Logan, Haru, Andy, and Owen were all running down Main Street towards the train, waving their arms. How did they…?

“G’luck out there, Grace!” Logan hollered. “Knock ‘em dead!”

“You’re gonna do great things out there, Grace!” Haru called.

“You’re still part’a the gaaaang!” Andy yelled.

“You were the best co-chef I’ve ever had, Grace!” Owen shouted. “We’ll miss your sandy omelets!”

Grace couldn’t help it. Bubbly laughter rose up from her chest. She leaned out the window and waved back, wind whipping her hair as the train sped up.

“I’ll miss you! I promise I’ll come back and visit!” she hollered.

She was too far away now to hear whatever they yelled back. As the train passed the oasis, she looked back one last time at the station.

Wis was still there. Still waving. Still beaming.

Grace found her eyes locked on hers, never looking away until Wis disappeared behind the train as it curved around the bend.

She ducked back inside before she could lop her own head off on the rocks surrounding town, still gazing out the window.

The city’s skyline flashed in and out between the beams of the Shonash Bridge. Grace watched as it disappeared behind Gecko Station, leaving only the giant ruined tower far above the rest of town visible.

Grace still couldn’t peel her eyes away, staring as it too shrank into the distance, before disappearing behind the edge of the tunnel into the mountains.

Sandrock was out of her sights now, but still it stood, stubborn and proud and vibrant as ever.

She sighed and finally took a seat, leaning her head back and staring idly at the train car’s ceiling. The rumble and sway of the train was making her eyes heavy. Normally, Grace knew that napping in a public place was a death sentence. In this line of work, it was full awareness or the business end of a weapon. But in the aftermath of everything, alone in this quiet car, Grace let herself drift off into the most restful sleep she’d had in years.

Though maybe it wasn’t just the relief of the whole situation that made it so peaceful. Maybe it was her dreams. Dreams filled with infectious laughter and familiar quirks and stupid jokes and a safe embrace.

And dreams of a beacon, shining bright with that same laughter and Sandrock’s newfound light.

Calling her home.

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

A/N: I don't plan to do a longfic for Wisty on the scale of Builder, Researcher, Rooftop, but I do have ideas for some goofy little side adventures for her. Hopefully I can get around to those in the near-future. Thanks for reading!

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#i still don't know how this fic happened tbh #i just started writing added a dose of that good ol sapphic pining and here we are #this isn't really the type of fic that warrants a Pretentious Latin Title(TM) but screw it #my time at sandrock #mtas fanfic #mtas grace #mtas builder #mtas spoilers #shady's fics #vov

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