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cordycepsfem · 11 months

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Pageboy Readthrough, Part Nine

Previously

your reviewer digresses into why this book isn't good (beyond the absolute drowning sadness and every single human who failed EP from start to finish)

I am not on the New York Times bestseller list (or am I? you don't know)

EP plays a horrifically abused young woman in a film and it affects her deeply, leading to furthering her eating disorder

we learned about a handful of things that weigh approximately 84 pounds

EP auditions for Juno and gets the part

she becomes sexually involved with Olivia Thirlby

EP loves working on Juno and is happy

Now

Chapter Eleven

EP tells us that she didn't vomit from the age of eleven until the age of twenty-eight

this suitably impresses me, because as a medically interesting individual I have a lot of experience with nausea and vomiting

EP then goes on to tell us that just because she didn't vomit doesn't mean she didn't get sick in other ways

this does not impress me and is gross

EP writes this very insightful passage about gender dysphoria that I actually agree with

the part I blacked out was where she said she kept repeating "I want to be a ten-year-old boy" every time dysphoria swept over her, because I do not agree with that and find it extremely telling and sad

EP segues bizarrely from vomit to diarrhea to... soccer?... and then back to fights with her step-mother and her awful father

and then to a story about going to a cabin and I am once again whiplashed into the corner - didn't this start off with vomiting at the age of 28?

anyway, Canadian stuff:

well, really just beaver stuff, but it happened in Canada so I'm still right:

I want with everything in me to make several beaver jokes but I am a) very tired and b) confused and excited by the comparison of a beaver to the Babadook, so please make your own beaver jokes and meet me in the next dotted point whenever you're ready

EP's father and step-mother continue to be the worst; they call her "Skid Mark"

her father tells her they're just joking around and once again I would like someone to consider the difference between someone joking with you and someone joking about you

once again I would like to offer my own, better, nicer parents to EP

I have extolled my father's many virtues but my mother is also fantastic

EP then shoves us into a passage about Rollerblading

and I have to say that I would also vomit from this much whiplash

the Rollerblading passage takes a wild turn into a Rollerblading accident where EP tears something in her vagina

she is worried for years that something is wrong with her vagina

EP starts thinking about it again when she's dating a boy who she attempts to have sex with; she doesn't like it, so she assumes it's a physical thing rather than a "you're gay" thing

and once again your reviewer is like "Didn't we start out a party on the first page of this chapter where you were vomiting at the age of twenty-eight on the Fourth of July? I am now lost in the hinterlands sending up a flare for aid"

so EP goes to a gynecologist

the gynecologist tells her there is nothing wrong with her vagina

and also that she liked EP's performance in Hard Candy

and we NEVER GO BACK TO THE VOMITING THING

AT ALL

Jesus Christ, EP, what is this writing style because I both hate it and am impressed by it every.single.time

Chapter Twelve

EP is glad that Oscars season is almost over and she is glad

she wants to quit acting

she can't bear wearing "feminine" clothing or going out for super feminine roles

when asked why she can't just do her job as an actor and wear a costume:

as a fellow head-beater and self-injurer, I get it, EP

best to get out of a job that doesn't make you happy and isn't fulfilling your needs

it took me seven years but I eventually did it

I am still unsure why she couldn't figure out how to tell people she just wanted to wear pants

but as someone who took thirteen years to tell her mother she wanted long hair and to stop wearing dresses, maybe I am less unsure and just more of a very specific type of asshole

anyway

EP gets the role in Whip It, the film that convinced me I wanted to try roller derby

she actually learns to play roller derby, which is so cool

(it is the best of sports)

the woman EP was dating previously, Paula, moves out to LA to be her "assistant"

EP starts to get recognized more as Juno and this is hard on her relationship with her "assistant"

there is an amusing bit about how Paula's parents somehow had no idea EP was gay or that their daughter was gay

also EP is upset that "cis" people get lauded for playing trans and "queer" parts

there's a lovely bit here about roller derby:

I joined a roller derby team because I had no friends

the skating part didn't matter, I just wanted friends

(and sure, maybe to be cool like EP, who I had a major crush on)

but I got a whole lot of friends out of the thing and that was very definitely a "pocket of joy" in my life

and yes, there can be a lot of "intertwined queerness" but the majority of my team is still straight (I love them anyway)

I am going to be able to see them all for the first time in 5 months and I am so excited to see my crazy weird skating family

it is a sport that embraces female power

it makes me feel like my body is powerful

and as someone living with dysphoria and body dysmorphia that's huge

anyway

EP loves roller derby and she loves building a roller derby family with her castmates

they go to Michigan to film

fun fact: Michigan has the most roller derby teams than any other state in the US

second fun fact: I used to live there

third fun fact: I know a guy who played an extra in Whip It but I didn't learn that until after we met and that wasn't the reason why we met

fourth fun fact: I miss Michigan a lot

EP and Kristen Wiig make up a musical together that sounds absolutely hysterical

EP realizes stuff is absolutely fucked and goes to therapy

EP, light of my life for whom I would fight all kinds of Canadian step-mothers and shitty fathers, what in the nine heavens is a queer walk?

I mean I can guess the connotation but EP you are a lesbian and a human and speaking as both we all walk differently

so this is some sort of weird stereotype that I really don't care for

and on that note I must adjourn before I fall asleep here at the computer

#radblr #radical feminism #terfs do touch #ellie's ep posting #pageboy readthrough #terfblr

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 4 months

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Yesterday I took a quick walk to the swamp because Mom had been too weak to talk long.

The western section of the swamp, the one effected by the “new”** beaver dam, had dropped 2 feet in water level in just two days. That means something has happened dam, and most probably the recent local kill the beavers/clear the swamps has started to hit close to home….

So, I was upset. But, interestingly, it has had a good side.

Today Mom was in a bad way. When I called Mom said nothing and my sister-in-law took the phone. She told me Mom was doing her “fish impression”, gasping for air more than breathing, and it probably wasn’t worth trying today because she couldn’t talk and wouldn’t be listening much. She suggested I just try again tomorrow, but I said I wanted to just talk at her for 5 minutes. Just so she could hear me and know I love her….

The phone was set be her head and I started what I expected to be a short monologue to silence. And it sure seemed to be just that, until I started telling her about the beavers. She was unhappy to hear about it and started talking!

Mom and I not only talked a while about that, but then about stuff I’d been working on, stuff I have planned to do, the news, what I watched last night***, and eventually back to reading to her****. I had gone in expecting to too not hear her say anything, and struggle at five minutes, but we went on for nearly 1 1/2 hrs with her still able to say goodbye!

So, basically, I think getting her emotionally hooked with the drained bit of swamp made her feel she needed to talk about it, which in turn gave her the push she needed. Yes, she is incredibly weak and found breathing hard, but sometimes the right motivation can really help.

Funny though, isn’t it? One day something makes me sad, and the next I am so very glad I had it to talk about.

**There are three beaver dams on the swamp along our place:

The “old” dam. It was created something like twenty or twenty five years ago. I’d go every single day to break a hole in it. That sounds like I had it in for the beavers, but actually I was trying to protect them. I knew if the water level got visibly from high nearby road people would “do” something. Then the government decided after a hurricane to use funds to clear the swamps. They were supposed to leave the beavers be, BUT the idiots doing it couldn’t tell a beaver dam if their lives depended on it. “it wasn’t a beaver dam. It was just mud and sticks!” they told Pop. And that was that for beavers for many years.

The “current” dam. When beavers finally returned they build their new dam down stream. This is the one that you see in photos I post, the one that created the lovely pond and where I has been watching the beavers swimming around. The place with the irises and my favorite tree to flop next to. This dam was safe, too far away to effect the road and with the neighbors, being duck hunters, glad it’s there.

The “new” dam. This one was started a couple years ago down stream, close to the western border to our property. It had been “under construction” before I discovered it. I wondered if it was just the next generation moving on their own home or what. That section is still full of trees because the ponding hasn’t been going on that long and it wasn’t as deep yet.

*** “Flight of the Conchords” is my current tv watching. Movie wise things have been disappointing, but this show has been making up for blah movies.

My movie comments were (to use one example..Movie: Company Business) “I hadn’t noticed Mikhail Baryshnikov is short, and I thought he looked about the same height as David McCallum, and OMG they were they WERE the same height! And I swear that movie script was unfinished, like there was stuff that felt like writer place holders to figure out later only they didn’t…which is weird since the writer was also the director. Pity, as a spy movie set in that very specific period where the cold war was ending and no one knew what would come next, with an American and Russian bonding in a thriller/comedy/buddy picture sounds fun.”

I swear, every movie I’ve seen lately (old, new, prehistoric) has ended up with me saying “pity”.

**** Still Terry Pratchett’s The Truth. Mom has had some bad days lately, so we haven’t finished it yet. There was a chunk today about the public not caring as much as out hero about the news he writes, and how no matter how imperfect the Patrician is, how much worse other leaders had been and very likely could be….well, it felt very relevant!

#my day #rambles #mom #beavers #family #conversations

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obsidiancreates · 2 years

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Meet Mondo Gecko Liveblog

Oh no, Mikey's experiencing ADHD understimulation! This is a dire emergency, it's the worst feeling ever.

Raph. You're embarrassed for Mikey to catch you playing with action figures? That. Wh-why?

Oh Donnie don't condescend- he's condescending. Wait, no, he was in hyperfixation mode and started happily infodumping. That was just Autism meets ADHD.

CASEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY HE'S BORED TOO YESSS MIKEY AND CASEY HANGOUTTTTTTTTTTT THEY'RE SKATING ON ROOFTOPS TOGETHER YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Who the fuck?

Casey how often do you say "Another mutant?" in that exact tone of voice?

No no Skatermander was good. Way better than Mondo Gecko.

Yeah I'd attack them too if they picked "Mondo Gecko" over "Skatermander". That's just disrespectful. That's cruel.

SERIOUSLY WHY WASN'T THIS THE THEME ANIMATIONS WHEN THEY WERE ACTUALLY IN THE FUCKING FARMHOUSE?!?!?!

Oh I hate Mondo, actually.

Casey, you don't know what a Gecko is? How?

Awwww, this is nice! Mondo likes being a mutant! That's fun!

Wait but what happened to Lars? Is Lars okay? HIS PARENTS KICKED HIM OUT?!?!?!?!?!? I HAVE TO KILL THEM I NO LONGER HATE MONDO

Listen to Casey, maybe? Maybe Casey has good intuition?

WHY DID YOU GUYS KNOCK OVER THE HOMELESS MAN'S CART?!?!?!?!

MIKEY NO I ALSO PREFER BOOYAKASHA BUT DON'T FUCKING DISS THE COWABUNGA

Yes Goongala is also good, Casey.

Old scho- I see you writers and I detest you

Oh Caseyyyyyyyy! My boyyyy!

Oh Mikey, I try so hard to defend your intelligence...

Oh good... Hun is back... KICK HIS ASS CASEY- PFFFFF CASEY LITERALLY SAID "EUGH" I LOVE HIM

CASEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY SWEETIEEEEE

Oh Mondo. Please stop being annoying so I can sympathize with you.

Yeah this part of the season is. I'm feeling bored. Everyone is irritating. Except Casey. I am happy that Donnie hasn't been Weird about April in a while, though.

CASEY LEARNED SELF-RESTRAINT YAY

Pfffft 4 Cops from Casey.

MONDO SHEESH

OUT LIKE YOUR MOM IN A BEAUTY PAGENT?!?!?!?!? CASEY THAT WAS A DEATHBLOW AND ALSO SEXIST WTF

Mikey, uh. Maybe don't choose Mondo over Casey

CASEY NOOO HE GOT GOT

Awww Raph and Donnie gaming against each other! Raph wanting to hang with Casey! Good stuff! I'm savoring breadcrumbs here people, the water is getting thin.

... Mr... X? I... worry. ... Is it Rat King?

MIKEY IN A CAGE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OH OF COURSE IT'S XEVER OF COURSE IT'S XEVER HIS NAME LITERALLY HAS AN X

Does Xever run an underground death skateboarding competition? Holy shit, he does. What?

HE GOT CASEY TOO NO

I wish I felt bad that Mondo got caught but. i feel very little for him. I'm sad he got kicked out but that's the exte- is that the We Will Rock You beat in the backgroun?

HOW MANY FUCKING MUTANTS ARE OUT THERE WHAT

IT'S TRUE HE IS SMART JUST A PARTY DUDE

OBLIGATORY HUMAN ALLY OH GOD WAIT HE IS OH NO XEVER KNOWS HIS TV TROPE CHARACTER TYPE oh Casey sweetie you're really not paying attention in English are you?

Love that none of the voice actors for the other mutants are here so they're just making grunting noises.

XEVER IS A SKATER?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I guess it adds up but I-I'm still surprised. Oh okay they got Baxter's VA.

CASEY FOR THE WIN CASEY FOR THE WI- Spiderbytes is in the audience?

HEY XEVER HAS ROCKET BOOSTERS WHAT A FUCING CHEATER

Oh there we go we got Clancy and Eric to say one line each

XEVER YOU BITCH

GOOD JOB MIKEY GOOD JOB CASEY I'M SO PROUD OF YOU BOTH

His fish... respond... to shouts? Above water?

Pffff good reaction shot

I'm getting bored with this one, not gonna lie. A fish was implied to bite Mikey's nuts and like I'm just kinda tired of this stuff.How'd we go from the Golden Standard of Dream Beavers to many episodes in a row that are so... not... great?

I did like that Casey's solution was "Whack Mondo as hard as possible to win by any means necessary".

Yaah I'm with April instant "Eugh" after Mondo did a Sexist.

Oh Mikey broke the fourth wall again. Okay.

I'm tired. These episodes have like... like they're full of energy... but not the right energy.

#tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 #sid blogs live

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stephenjaymorrisblog · 2 years

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Lugubrious Anarchist

Stephen Jay Morris

November 18, 2022

Scientific Morality©

My amygdala, otherwise known as the region of the right brain, is all fucked up. I don’t know whether I’m depressed or just frustrated. I know that Jesus was rejected by his own people. This doesn’t mean that I have a Messianic complex or a slight case of megalomania. I just feel bad.

I have been locked out of yet another anarchist message board. They must think I am a Cyber troll or an agent of the state. I have been locked out of other political message boards, too. From Twitter to FaceBook, I am buried in obscurity. My videos on YouTube have a low viewership. So, what now?

Should I blame myself? Conservatives would say yes, however, my logic says no. The type of Anarchists we have now are bourgeois, Millennial, white kids who started their careers playing video games on the Internet. As with any movement, the youth are the most enthusiastic and vibrant members. This incurs resentment by the preceding, older generation, which is a normal occurrence. Back in the day, we had a generation gap between the old Leftists and the new Left. I know I’ve said this before and I say it again here: The old Left declared, “Your long hair will alienate the working class!” Well, in a way, it did. The working class “Hard Hats” of New York City attacked Hippie, anti-war protesters circa 1970. A decade later, Hard Hats and major league baseball pitchers sported long hair! Truth be told, the old Left was opposed to identity politics. They used to say to us Yippies that homosexuality was not in the interest of the working class. Well, they changed their tune in the 70’s!

Today’s kids may dislike Baby Boomers, but the conservative Millennials have been brain-washed by Boomer Conservatives and routinely use their rhetoric to attack the so-called “Woke.” The stereotype of woke is not only cringe, but outright retarded and stupid! This is the real reason I am sad. The reality is that some Zoomers dislike me as a Boomer. It’s stupidity on their part, however. One day, they’ll realize who the real enemy is.

So, I am theoretically retired. I’ve promised myself to quit the Anarchist movement and do some charity work, or travel around the planet to see the natural beauty that it has to offer. Maybe explore the essence of inner peace and the soul of just being. Meditate by a waterfall and watch beavers gather up branches to build a dam across a river. Yeah, I might just stick my head in the sand or hug a Redwood tree.

All I wanted to do was to show the younger generation how corrupt American corporate culture is and the phoniness of Evangelical Christianity; how they advocate for personal liberty and then, on the other hand, want you to conform to capitalist classicism. I wanted to impress upon the youth that the Anti-Authoritarian left is different than the Authoritarian left, or just better than the Authoritarian right.

Maybe 200 years from now, there will be an Anarchist revolution. I think the only way America will have one is if Fascism does come to the USA, and the state’s suppression will push the youth into armed struggle. We are getting close. The ignorance of the working class is helping to bring forth this Fascist state, whether it be Christian theocracy or white nationalism. When the totalitarian state is established, the white working class will realize that the Fascist state will not improve their lives. In fact, it will make it worse. They will realize that Jesus is not coming back and the only way to survive is to sell Meth. They will realize that the Feminists, Blacks, illegal aliens, socialists, Islam, fake news, and rich Jews are not their enemies, but that it is the white men in corporate boardrooms and pastors behind the pulpit that are doing them in. Alas, they will find out when it’s too late!

As for me. My love of my life, Pamela, and I will live out our lives into our golden years with love, happiness, and freedom and, hopefully, peace. I will make damn sure that nobody hurts us!

I will slowly back away from American politics because it fuckin’ sucks! Good luck suckers!

#anarchist #anarcho primitivism #anarchocapitalism #anarchocommunism #anarchofeminism #green anarchy #anarchopunk #Stephenjaymorris #stephenjaymorris #poets of tumblr #american politics #baby boomers

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yellow-like-sunflowers · 2 years

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What an incredible place! I came to Broken Bow, Oklahoma for a family trip and this trip has been so AWESOME! Being away from a city/suburban environment was just what I needed. Being in nature resets my brain, body and soul, it’s truly magical. I swam in a river for the 1st time ever (I’ve got a few wounds and scratches but they’re all worth it) and I even floated on my back, looking at the sky for what felt like hours… it was beautiful. It’s currently 5 am and I woke up because the AC was set to like 74 degrees F and it’s too hot! I thought about lowering the temp but the rest of my family is in the cabin, and my cousin’s babies will get too cold.. so yeah. I love those babies so their comfort is obviously more important than mine, but I’m currently struggling lol. It’s actually pretty hot in Oklahoma right now, I mean it’s less hot than the Dallas area, but it’s a different environment so it feels less excruciating. The water is very cold but I don’t mind it, I still go in and swim because after hiking for hours, jumping in cold-fresh water is the BEST thing ever. Anyways, today is our last day here and I’m super sad to leave! I mean, I miss the familiarity of my apt and my dog (she’s staying at my friends house) but I still need to complete a quiz and a few assignments for this summer semester…ughh. But like I said, I miss the familiarity but at the same time, I want to stay here. :/ I don’t know, I guess building a home or finding a place that feels like home is the part that’s hard. I’m definitely coming back next year, I’ve felt like a little kid this entire time, running around, picking rocks (I really like Geodes) and swimming. And of course, I got to spend a few days with my family, and that’s the cherry on top 🍒 I’m sending you good vibes! xoxo Ps: If you also see I need a mental or spiritual reset, Beavers Bend National Park is only 3 hrs away from the DFW area! (at Beaver's Bend State Park, Broken Bow, OK) https://www.instagram.com/p/ChBUiF6sZUF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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sternbagel · 3 years

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(both rdr 🤠) top 5 (best or worst or both) locations on the map? and i don't how how deep you're into the lore, but top 5 mysteries? 👀

Ask me my Top 5 Anything!

Ooooh good ones! Thank you!

We’ll go with both kinds of locations lol. And these aren’t in any real order

Top 5 Best Locations

Big Valley

Great Plains

Willard’s Rest

Clemens Point

And it’s a tie between like all of the Heartlands & Scarlett Meadows 😂 (I know technically Clemens Cove/Point is in SM but like. still)

Top 5 Worst Locations (this was kinda hard cause I like so many places on the map)

Colter (obvious reasons)

Beaver Hollow (obvious reasons again)

Bayou Nwa at night (Night Folk scare the shit out of me)

Annesburg (I always literally run into the fucking train there? idk why???)

Valentine (I actually like it there but. My horse and me get muddy the SECOND we step foot into town and it drives me NUTS)

Top 5 Mysteries (YES I love the mysteries in the game!!)

The Giant Snake/Pleasance - So the other night I watched The Strange Man’s video about it and it’s fascinating (and a lil creepy lol). I basically recommend all that channel’s videos.

The Strange Man - like. he’s so creepy and I love how obviously bothered by him John is (as he should be) in RDR1. And his shack in Bayou Nwa?? With the damn dead alligator under it? And the painting? I love and hate it.

The Emerald Ranch Mystery - where the FUCK is that daughter? What the FUCK happened? I haven’t watched the video yet but it’s on my watch later and most likely I’m gonna end up watching it tonight but I am sad they don’t give Arthur or John an actual mission for ER in game after Hosea drops all that vague lore. I am writing it into one of my stories with my own twist on it but yeah.

The Ghost Train - I love that it’s just. Unexplained like so much of the stuff. Which is fine! But I wanna know if there’s a legend behind it?? Like what happened? It’s neat tho when you first encounter it.

The Vampire of St. Denis - he’s creepy and I love that there’s a specific time you can find him, even though it took me literal irl WEEKS to find him because I kept coming at the wrong time and didn’t know there was a 1 hour window. I thought it was wider than that lol. But he gives you a neat dagger when you kill him. And you can tie him up and terrorize the people with him. I’ve never done that but I love seeing other people do it lol.

#asks #peaceofwilde #thank you 💜💜

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narniadynasty · 4 years

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Suddenly there came a most frightful jerk and a noise | When that awful jerk came I thought it was the beginning of a railway accident | I remember thinking it was taking the bend far too fast | There was a frightful roar and something hit me with a bang | There was a real railway accident | All of you are dead

Edmund sits quietly for a moment on the bed, staring at the painting, wishing for it not to be the end. He glances down to see Lucy give a wavering smile, trying to put on a brave face, and all he can do is shrug a little in return. Eustace smiles a small smile at them, much lighter than before making Edmund square his shoulders before he stands, Lucy rising alongside him as Eustace leads the way out of the room. For a moment it’s only him and Lu left, but while she starts to follow their cousin, he can’t help but take a glance back at the painting, hoping for something.

There is no something though, just a still painting of a ship at sea.

“I guess that’s that, Lu," Edmund says in solemn voice as he finally takes a step through the doorway, heart aching and eyes dry.

“I guess so,” is all she says as she closes the door behind them with a solemn air.

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Edmund’s quiet in the days after their return. He’s always been the quiet one but now his silences are as heavy as his heart. It isn’t long until Peter shows up on the Scrubb’s doorstep waiting for Lucy and Edmund to join him on the way to the train station to pick up their parents and Susan. Lucy races through the station flitting between people like a bird, leaving Edmund and Peter watching with fondness clear in their eyes. Edmund goes to follow but Peter stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Lucy wrote to me about what happened, Ed,” There’s no accusation or question in Peter’s voice about why Edmund hadn’t done so but it doesn’t stop him from feeling the sharp sting of guilt anyway.

“What of it?" he asks in a low voice. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not here, maybe not ever but Peter doesn’t heed the silent plea in his voice. Peter doesn’t put the conversation off until later, until never. Peter makes the decision, and Edmund follows.

His brother takes a step in front of Edmund so he has no choice but to look at him. “I know it’s hard but you’ll be okay, Ed. You might not be able to go back, but that doesn’t mean you lost everything about Narnia." He says with a raised head and a soft sad smile, no doubt remembering his own final moment in Narnia. Edmund opens his mouth to speak, wanting to convey to his older brother, his High King, just how terribly and deeply he aches but before he can he catches a glimpse over Peter’s shoulder, of Lucy greeting Susan and their parents.

He sees the way Lucy dives straight into Susan’s arms.

He sees the way their parents avert their eyes to hide the minuscule hurt and summon almost believable smiles when Lucy finally turns to them, her hands gesturing widely and shirt untucked.

He takes a deep breath and swallows thickly, vowing to himself right then and there that he’s never the reason that such an expression crosses their faces again.

“I know, Pete,” he says with a smile and before Peter can question him further, before Peter can see how fake his smile really is, he steps around him and walks to where the rest of his family waits.

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Edmund sits quietly, reading at the garden table. A warm breeze sweeps through and he can hear the low soothing humming of his mother drift outwards, to where he sits, from the open window of their house. Lucy’s somehow wound up in the tree again, on one of the highest branches she could, swinging her legs back and forth to a rhythm only she knows while Peter tries to coax her down. Without much success, Edmund notes, because he keeps stopping to laugh at the youngest child’s antics in between the threats to ‘climb up the damn tree' himself to get her. Susan steps out from out the house, wearing a much to big hat for ‘blocking out the sun, Edmund’ despite the fact that ‘the sun went down about an hour ago, Su.' She's dressed in a lovely purple dress her father had bought her months ago.

"Edmund, come on!” Lucy shouts loudly from her a top her new throne, having taken to outright ignoring Peter’s attempts. “Eustace is coming soon and he wants to hear more about our adventures in Narnia!”

For a moment, Edmund is tempted. Tempted to share his stories with the still uncertain young Eustace, who struggles with reconciling who he has become with who he used to be. Tempted to reminiscence about Mr. Tumnus, and the Beavers, and Mr. Fox. He wants to speak about the young Tarkheena, later the Calormen Queen of Archenland, he’d met who was as hard headed as a certain young Pevensie sister. About Philip, his stead, his friend, who would always offer an ear for Edmund and his worries. He wants to describe the beauty of the Cair, their home, their heart. How he’d traversed vast lands and seas even more daring and adventurous than the last.

For a moment, Edmund is tempted.

But the humming has abruptly cut off. His mother's voice has fallen silent and if he strains his ears hard, he can hear her quiet shuddering breaths as she tries to collect herself once more, and in that moment he can’t help but think ‘Oh Lucy, you absolute fool.'

For Lucy, Susan, Peter, and Edmund, their time in Narnia was grand and adventurous. But for their mother who knows nothing about that other world, that beautiful world, all she can think of is her children, her babies, leaving and not knowing if she’ll see them again. How she sent them away —for their own safety— but sent away all the same. All she can think is how her children, children who have aged much more than they should have by anything in an old man’s old home, came back to her, different and strange and very much not children anymore.

The association of 'Narnia’, has become synonymous with the fear of never seeing her children again. It means having these much too old souls in these child-like bodies, that look like hers but they’ve grown and barely recognize her anymore, return.

Edmund watches Susan join Peter under the tree and he lets out a sigh as he stands, stretching his arms out. They await his answer eagerly, even Susan and Peter, no doubt excited to tell their adventures to this new audience, even if it is an audience of one.

“How about you tell them for me, Lu?” He asks instead setting his book down as he starts to trek back inside. “You’re a much better storyteller than I am.” He can hear his siblings squabbling over which adventure to tell and when he glances back for a second, regretful, Susan’s eyes meet his and she nods a small nod knowing where he’s going. He smiles, a soft saddened smile before turning back to where his mother, who's stifled sobs grow louder with each step closer, sits, heartbreak heavy in the air.

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"Have you made your decision, Mr. Pevensie?” the advisor asks him, sitting with interlocked hands resting on the desk before him. Edmund sits quietly on the other, his feet planted solidly on the ground as he gazes around at the very brown coloured small room. He thinks about his future and his family and finds his heart set and mind made.

“Yes,” he says almost without conscious thought. “Law. I want to study law.”

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Edmund’s always been the studious type. And he finds himself quickly falling into a pattern each night, prepping as he must for his exams and future studies.

“Ed, you still have so much time until you actually start!" Peter cries one morning. He’s gotten back from studying with Professor Kirke and he’s bored sitting at home all day while Susan and Lucy have gone out with their mother. “Come on! Let’s go out to town for an hour! Or better yet, Eustace keeps telling us about how he and his new friend, Jill, have had quite the adventure in Narnia! You haven’t heard but...” and here is where Edmund forces himself to stop listening as he falls deeper in the thrall of the intricacies of the legal system. He doesn’t talk much of Narnia aloud anymore, has found himself on the alert to see where his mother and father are every time ‘Narnia’ is mentioned.

Lucy cares about her parents, how can she not when it comes to family, but she’s already grown and lived and Peter and Susan have been the ones to raise her, not mother, not father. She’s the youngest, and the freest, and does not pick up on the falseness of their parents smiles whenever ‘Narnia’ is mentioned. 'A hummingbird, indeed,’ Edmund muses privately to himself as he watches Lucy flit away at something new that has captured her attention, unknowing of the harsh blows she has dealt to her parents, left behind with false smiles slipping into pained frowns and tear-filled eyes. Their mother turns away, fingers raised to her lips as if to smother away the heartbreak that threatens to release, silent in her grief. Their father's hands are clenched into tight fists as he watches Lucy laugh and turn and run, eyes drenched in the colour of sorrow.

Susan’s much more knowledgeable and understanding of her parents and does her best to not bring it up whenever they are home, but mistakes are made as it is bound to happen with an almost taboo word and parents. She slips and finds herself declaring aloud to Edmund one afternoon of how ‘that’s not how we did it in Narnia, Edmund,’ over some mundane thing, oblivious to her parents who have returned, earlier than expected, for the evening. Edmund sees and the smile he had, his Susan-smile freezes abruptly. Susan notices, the darkening of his eyes, the clenching of teeth, because of course she does, a mother to a brother too young. She turns slightly as if shifting her weight but with that small expert movement her hair falls on her side shielding her eyes, as she catches a glimpse of her heartbroken parents behind her. She turns back to Edmund, quiet and sorry, eyes wide and heart broken as their parents take the stairs back to their room, silent.

Peter notices the changes in his middle siblings but he’s been off with Professor Kirke learning the ways of medicine and barely has time around the house anymore. He doesn’t think much of it when he comes home because Lucy is as loud and present as ever. Susan, stubborn and likely to glare daggers at him at the slightest mishap. Edmund has grown taller but that solemn quiet air is still ever present. He doesn’t notice, his mind whirling with new procedures and chemicals and technologies, how ‘Narnia’ is barely mentioned at home. Lucy still brings it up as much as she had before he’d gone. What he doesn’t notice is how Edmund ushers his parents away when he sees that look in Lucy’s eyes, head drooping while as if he shoulders a weight unseen, before she can open her small mouth and tear her parents apart once more. How Susan is quick to use every bit of diplomacy and conversational tactic she’s learned during their reign to get the conversation back to something mundane, something un-Narnian. He doesn’t notice because Susan still talks about Narnia with him when it’s just the four of them or they’re out of the house, away from their parents keen ears and fragile hearts. He doesn’t notice because Edmund still listens when they meet and speak of Narnia. He doesn’t notice how Edmund barely contributes to these talks anymore, how he’s always citing ‘homework’ as an excuse to leave as fast as he can. He doesn’t notice.

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Susan stands in the doorway of his room, one foot in and one foot out.

“Edmund,” her gentle voice flows through the slightly too warm room, soothing an itch in his skin he didn’t notice. He turns from his seat at his desk where he’d been buried in more and more books than usual. “Are you quite sure you don’t want to join us?” He can hear Peter’s voice drifting through the open doorway, loud and exasperated as he tries and gets Lucy to wait for him and Susan. He can hear Lucy’s quick steps as she goes for the door chanting "Let’s go let’s go let’s go-”

Edmund looks at her in confusion at first, mind still whirling with the new information he’s spent hours learning. It takes him a moment, a moment where Susan looks at him cautiously hopeful, a moment where Peter and Lucy’s voices grow smaller as they step out of the house, but he remembers all the same. Remembers about the regular meet up with the Professor Kirke, because he would always be Professor, and the others. Remembers how Ms. Polly Plummer would be the one to greet them at the door and how she’d usher them in with kind hands and an even kinder smile. Remembers how Eustace had taken to being accompanied by Jill after their own adventure together, how they’d barge in rushing past the Pevensie siblings, Jill leading. For a moment he wants, wants to say yes, wants to be there in step with Peter, Susan, and Lucy, wants to see the Professor’s twinkling eyes with still so many adventures to share, wants to stifle his laughter as he hears Jill and Eustace being scolded for their running in the house by Ms. Polly in the other room.

But then reality hits, as it often does, with a sharp smack on an unsuspecting face.

He remembers his assignments and readings and deadlines. He remembers how he’d promised his mates he’d be there for the next town trip seeing as he’d missed out on the last two, for his studies. He remembers his Professors expectations and imagines their frowns if he fails.

“I’m sure, Su. Maybe next time.” he says with a soft forlorn smile turning back to his studies once more without another glance. He hears her dejected sigh but is already slipping back the books of statistics and origins of different laws that he can’t bring himself to give her another glance.

(He’ll wish he had later.)

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There is a knocking on the house door that won’t stop. A sense of unease seeps through him as he realizes that there is no other voice in the house. No steps rushing to the door to see who’s there. No noise except for his all too loud breathing in a much too silent home.

He goes to answer, finding it strange how his parents haven’t returned from their visit at Aunt Alberta’s. ‘Strange,’ he repeats to himself wondering about his siblings absence because it is already much later than they usually stay out during the Narnia roundups.

He reaches the door and finds himself pausing without a clue why. His heart skips a beat and fear creeps its way in. He swallows in the heavy silence, calling himself a fool for thinking for even a second that something’s wrong.

‘They’ll be home soon,’ he tries to assure himself. He gathers his courage and grips the doorknob hard and pulls it open in one quick movement, knowing without knowing why, that if he doesn’t at that moment, he’ll never open it.

On the doorstep stands an officer

...and Edmund’s heart breaks.

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The funerals took place over an hour ago.

He’s at his Aunt and Uncle’s, but finds himself hiding out in the upstairs room to get away from all the condolences and pity. He’d wanted to get away for just a moment, just one, and had bolted the first chance he’d gotten, his mates offering a distraction from anyone who’d notice.

He’d taken the stairs two at a time and walked quickly as fast as he could and opened the first door he could think of when he’d finally slowed to a stop and couldn’t go up anymore. He shuts the door with a shuddering sob before realization crashes through him as he turns around.

Lucy’s room.

He’s in Lucy’s old room.

Lucy’s room from when they’d stayed with their Aunt and Uncle in what feels like a lifetime ago. Where he’d hide out from Eustace every chance he could before they’d gone on an adventure together. Where he and Lu would read Susan letters, always together. Where they’d talk about the adventures that Peter was in for after when he would finally finish his studies with the Professor. Where parcels from his parents would remain unopened until Lucy was finally awake. Where Lucy smuggled cakes and candies and everything sugary stealthily before their Aunt could see.

Lucy’s room with the floral bedspread and almost white walls.

Lucy’s room with a photograph of Susan and Peter, smiling, before boarding a train to their schools forever ago, on the bedside table.

Lucy’s room with a painting of a ship at sea.

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manychocolatefactories · 3 years

Text

CatCF: White Chocolate

And here is my White Chocolate retelling!

About this version: This version could take place in something between the 90s and the 2000s. It has been strongly inspired by both the world of cartoons in general, and "A Series of Unfortunate Events", as strange as it may seem. In this version, you have Seven Platinum Tickets.

Reinterpretation of Augustus Gloop:

Augustus Gloop, first Platinum Ticket winner. This Augustus, I imagined as a bully.

Physically, he is a very round boy. His belly is round, his torso is round, his face is round, his arms and legs are round, he basically looks like a bunch of balloons tied together, or a mass of spheres/globes. He has two great "beaver teeth". In terms of clothes, he eithers wears hoodies too small for him and of bright, vivid, flashy colors (orange, yellow, pink) or he wears striped shirts that are not slimming at all (such as the red and white stripes shirt of Augustus Gloop in the 2005 movie).

To all adults, Augustus plays the part of the cute, happy, innocent boy. But to all the other kids, he is a horrible, nasty, brutal and greedy bully. He likes to torture and dominate others - though he is not a sadist. He just seeks power and dominion, he loves to strike fear and submission in the heart of other children. A good exemple of his double-faced nature are his beaver teeth - he can actually speak perfectly fine with them, even though they gave him a slight lisp that is quite cute to adults. But with children, he worsens his lisp on purpose so that he would spit and splutter all over their faces, and when said children complain, the adults keep saying things like "He can't help it, he is just different, don't discriminate".

Augustus actually used to be a regular-sized kid (even though taller and bigger than his comrades, but not that fat). He regularly beat up, gave wedgies or other typical bully tortures on his peers to get their money or their toys. But it all changed when one day a boy had the idea to offer him his lunch instead of his money. Augustus was a big eater you see, and he seized the opportunity of having a free lunch. And since all the other kids preferred to give up their lunch rather than their money of their toys, they all started to "encourage" (as in, subtly manipulating him) so that he would racket lunch and food instead of money out of them. As a result, Augustus grew immensely fat on all the free food he got each day - and with his bigger size he could intimidate and crush other kids more easily. But at least, they didn't had to steal money from their parents anymore.

His demise will be with the Exploding Candies (remember those?). I think they would be going by a section of the Factory where some of Wonka's candies are stored, and Augustus would see another kid holding an Exploding Candy. Not knowing what it is, he would bully said kid (maybe Charlie?) into giving it to him. He would swallow it and then...

BOOM! HE EXPLODES INTO LITTLE PIECES!

No, I'm kidding Xp Actually I went with something much more cartoony (this Augustus himself being cartoony - in fact I based him in "fat Chuck with beaver teeth" from the cartoon "Chuck's Choices". It may sound weird but it makes kind of sense in the series Xp). He would suddenly be all distended and inflated like a balloon, and then deflate completely (again, like a balloon), reduced to a flat, pancake-like boy, with smoke coming out of his mouth, nose and ears.

Reinterpretation of Violet Beauregarde:

The character is named Violet Strabismus, second Platinum Ticket winner. For her, I tried to think about what kind of people/archetype/stereotypes were seen chewing gum all day long, and I ended up finding this idea upon seeing a girl on a train that corresponded exactly to that.

This Violet is the typical embodiment of the cynic, "pseudo-edgy" teenager that seeks everything that is bleak and dark. She is a mix of goth, of emo, of punk and grunge. She only wears and surround herself with things dark, creepy, sinister or sad. She romanticizes notions such as despair, death, suicides, and the like. She is the kind of teenager that claims her whole life is just a series of pains and losses, that she seeks comfort in the darkness and the morbidity, and she disdains everything joyful, innocent or happy. Her two favorite hobbies are chewing gum, and trying to destroy other people's dreams and hopes with depressing talk.

The irony in all that, however, is that despite Violet's claims that she has a miserable and sad life, she actually has a very happy one. She has loving parents that support her in everything she does, and siblings that also love her. She comes from a wealthy background, which allows her to buy all the chains and piercings and extremely complicated goth/punk clothes she wants at specialized stores. She is quite a pretty and good-looking girl, even with her creepy clothes and dark makeup. She even has a huge house, and in fact despite her claims to adore death, never went to a funeral ever in her life, and never knew anyone that died. Still, she keeps repeating that she is a "misunderstood, bullied, rejected loner". And she is not suicidal herself, mind you, nor depressed. She is perfectly fine. She just wants to look like she is, to "fit her style".

Her demise, as with all the Violet variations in my stories, relies on the Three-Course Meal gum. But here, the dish used is the ice-cream. I had the idea that the gum would actually turn Violet's flesh into ice-cream. As a result she is immediately put inside Wonka's cold storage room and freezers, so she doesn't melt. And she is condemned to live her life alone, in dark, cold, locked up places, exactly as she pretended and wished to.

Reinterpretation of Veruca Salt:

Now, I am not much satisfied with this Veruca Salt, but well, it is still worth a shot, even though the idea itself may be not so original.

Veruca Salt, third Platinum Ticket winner. For this Veruca, I envisioned actually a character based on Darla Dimple from "Cats Don't Dance". She is a small, cute and child-like girl, that looks almost like a pretty little doll, but who is able to scream with an insanely powerful voice and can act like a total brat by throwing extremely destructive tantrums and breaking everything everywhere if she doesn't have what she wants.

Her demise was actually suggested by ArtMakerProductions - the Geese Room. The Geese Room from the 70s movie would return, with a full room having geese lay chocolate eggs for Easter (I also think Wonka would be disdainful of this silly idea according to which rabbits laid the Easter eggs). And when Veruca would throw one of her usual tantrum, one of the goose would believe her to be one of her children (due to Veruca's screams sounding like a goose' screams) and just sit on her, crushing the little girl. (Not to death of course, but that's one big goose Xp).

Reinterpretation of Mike Teavee:

This one was hard to think about, but I finally found something I'm quite proud of.

Mike's character is obsessed with television, right? And he wishes to be INSIDE television, right, that's the core of his demise. Well... what about a Mike Teavee that is obsessed with television not as a watcher but as an actor?

Henry Trout, fourth Platinum Ticket winner, is a former child actor who used to be the star of numerous teenager sitcoms and other televisions shows by Disney-like productions. All this fame turned him into a spoiled, arrogant and selfish brat, and when he was kicked off the shows, for both being too old AND being just too much of a jerk, he couldn't let go of the past. He believes that everyone knows him through his work as an actor, and that everyone is a fan of him. He spends a lot of his time looking at his old television shows, and television is his only topic when speaking with other people. He still dresses and acts like a star - and never once realizes that a good lot of people don't know or even remember him. As per ArtMakerProductions, his parents are also his agents, and they desperatly try to find back their son's former glory, by "overselling" him to get a lot of media exposure, and still doing a lot of advertisement and promotion despite him not getting any real work - the finding of a Platinum Ticket was another attempt at becoming famous once more.

Take the characters of "fallen stars" such as Norma Desmond in "Sunset Boulevard" and Jane Hudson from "Whatever happened to Baby Jane?". Mix them with the former Disney or Nickelodeon child and teenage stars, especially if they had a dark turn in their life (the Spouse twins, David Henrie, Cameron Boyce, Zac Efron...). And you get Henry Trout.

His demise is still the Television Room, like all the other Mikes. However his variation is that the television Wonka used was prepared to teleport and air objects, such as Wonka bars. It is still a technology in working, and they only focused on the material and visual parts. They haven't worked on the sounds. As a result, once Henry Trout gets on TV, he is insanely happy because now everyone will see him and nobody will kick him out... but then he realizes he can't speak, because there is no sound. And when rescues from the television, he discovers he turned completely mute.

Reinterpretation of Charlie Bucket :

Charlie Bucket, the seventh and last Platinum Ticket winner.

For this one... I actually don't know. I wanted to do a Charlie based on the "brown-haired Charlie" as illustrated for exemple by 2005's Charlie. But I hesitate. On one side, I haven't used yet the idea of "the too-saint Charlie", aka a Charlie Bucket so good and so perfect he becomes a male Mary Sue, unrealistic and annoying, an exaggerated caricature of a good boy. I thought I could potentially use this with the brown-haired Charlie, especially since 2005's Charlie was criticized for being a too-perfect child.

On the other side, I also liked the idea of a crippled Charlie, in the mind of "Tiny Tim" from A Christmas Carol, and I also thought it would be fitting for him...

So I'll let it float for now.

Reinterpretation of the deleted kids :

# Terence Roper. Since this one had barely any personnality in the original drafts, I decided to include him (especially since I already reinvented the two other kids part of his trio - Clarence Crump and Bertie Upside).

I think of Terence Roper as the typical "hot bad guy" archetype. He is a criminal kid, and a little delinquant, that drives despite not having a permit, that steals, that robs, that like to spread chaos and destroy shop windows and tag walls etc... I think he is the son of two famous criminals, and thus thinks of crime as the "family business". But he is also a very good-looking, very charming, and very popular boy, which resulted in him not only being leader of gangs and the like, but also having a sort of cult or worship around him - similarly to how "bad boys" in high schools can be idolized. I think something very similar appened with his parents - I want to explore with this character how people worship criminals, with very successful bandits, mafioso or drug dealers ending up as popular and romanticized and idolized as movie stars, singers or the like.

He is the blousons noirs of the 50s and 60s, the old-fashioned troublemakers pachucos, the greaser delinquants of the movie Grease, and all other fashionable kind-of-criminal groups you could think of.

But the irony here is that Terence actually got his Platinum Ticket by legal means, by buying a chocolate bar - and in fact, for him to have found the Golden Ticket and not stole it is a great disappointment and shame.

For his demise I thought of re-using the Fizzy Lifty Drink. He would stole it in an act of bravado, and drink it without realizing what it was - which would result in him getting a perpetual case of bad gazes (frequent burps, farts, and other stomach noises). This would completely ruin his cool and good looking image, as well as any kind of grace or discretion he may have.

# Miranda Mary Piker. Sixth Platinum Ticket Winner (Terence Roper was fifth). She is based on the character as most know her : a school-obsessed, fun-killing girl. The original incarnation was a stern, no-nonsense, very strict girl that basically acted like any cruel headmistress or teacher from those horrible British boarding schools. However, given that this character was alreayd beautifully reintepreted by Danguy96, I wanted to do something slightly different. This Miranda is more like an "annoying moral guardian". She is still obsessed with school, good work and being an obedient and good child, and she still disdains silly things such as games, entertainment or fun in general, but instead of being a stern and harsh girl, she would rather be a nagging and annoying pest, that keeps giving speeches and sermons to everyone about why you should act a certain way and not another, a walking moralization that keeps trying to teach "proper manners", "maturity" and "basic knowledge" to everyone in a very condescending way. I also thought she would try to dress up as an adult, and thus with adult clothes - but since she is just a cild, said clothes are much too big for her, resulting in her looking kind of ridiculous.

Her demise would, of course, be the Spotty Powder. I can't remember if this was an idea that was suggested to me, or one used by someone else in their reinterpretation, but I like the concept that instead of falling inside the machine and being crushed to death, Miranda (and possibly her school director father) would actually fall into a big pile of the Spotty Powder, and thus develop all the symptoms of a contagious disease and be forbidden from setting a foot in school for a very long period of time.

Reinterpretation of the rival chocolatiers :

This is the big defining feature of White Chocolate. In this version, the rivals of Wonka have a big part to play.

They don't appear in themselves - but they sent emissaeries, messengers and spoekpersons to contact each of the kids that won a Platinum Ticket, in a similar way to the 70s movie, and each chocolatier tempts the kid with a different "treat".

Slugworth seems to be a chocolatier involved in the criminal underworld - his emissaries at least seem to have some criminal undertones, and act through fear and violence rather than seduction. In fact, I think his chocolate and candy business may actually be a "cover" for darker criminal activites, and "washing" of dirty money.

Augustus Gloop receives the visit of a man with "icy blue eyes and nasty purple scars on his cheeks". He passes off as a waiter in the restaurant in which Augustus is celebrating, even though it is just a disguise. He tries to convince Augustus by both subtle threats, and the promise of a free pass and unlimited offer in all the restaurants and buffets of the town.

And Terence Roper, due to his criminal connections, actually is invited to the house of a wealthy man with ties to the criminal world, a creepy man in fancy, wealthy suits, but stuck in a wheelchair and with a fake eye shining like a silver dollar.

Slugworth's purpose seems to be the destruction of Wonka. He tries to convince the children to sabotage or put maybe bombs and things like that inside the Wonka factory, or to ruin batches of candy, stuff like that.

Prodnose rather keeps sending women as emissaries. In fact even thought of making Prodnose actually a female chocolatier, but I don't know yet... I thought of Prodnose as some sort of media mogul, that tries to spread their brand to everything (there are Prodnose television shows, book series, toys, sport equipment, gardening tools, etc...) including candy-making and chocolate-making.

One "messenger" contacts Veruca Salt. She is one of the journalists interviewinv the young girl after she found her Ticket. Based on Cherry from the musical, she is a happy, charmant, pleasant woman. But her face has something... weird to it, almost unnatural, as if she had a bad surgery job done to it. And she keeps smiling all the time - her smile seems completely stuck.

Henry Trout is the other one to receive a messenger from Prodnose. As Henry goes to have a new suit tailored for him (because of course Henry only had tailored suit perfectly to his size), the tailor reveals herself as a messenger of Prodnose, who could easily bring back Henry in Prodnose-made television series and shows. The tailor herself is a tall and thin lady all dressed in black, and with long, spindly fingers with long and pointy nails - her hands in fact look like creepy spiders.

I thought of probably Prodnose trying to cause a huge scandal inside the Wonka factory, and thus asking the kids to find out Wonka's dirty secrets, and if not, to invent some that they would "reveal" upon leaving the Factory. Where Slugworth tries to ruin physically and economically Wonka, Prodnose tries to ruin his reputation and to discredit him on moral ground.

As for Fickelgrubber, he is actually envious of Wonka. I think he is a very young person hailing from a very wealthy and powerful family, and his dream was to become a candy-maker, but he was very bad at it. However he refused to give up - especially when seeing how Wonka was succesful. Fickelgrubber is an envious and jealous child-minded young person, and he refuses to admit Wonka can succeed where he fails. Fickelgrubber has tried to copy and steal Wonka's inventions for years now, but all his attempt ended up failing miserably - he copied the ice-cream that never melt of Wonka, but they had a tendency to turn into rock-hard material. He copied the gum that could create gigantic balloons of Wonka, but he mixed up the recipe, and the gum actually made kids inflate and pop like balloons. And when Fickelgrubber released glow-in-the-dark candies, it was later revealed they contained a huge dose of radioactive components.

Fickelgrubber's emisseries are creepy kids (I still don't know if they are "friends" of his or merely all sorts of cousins of his real family - as I said, Fickelgrubber is quite young, both in spirit and mind).

Violet, upon visiting her local cemetery, is contacted by a beautiful blond teenager standing on the wall of the cemetery. He acts flirtingly, seductively, playing the "good cop" (and he also actually acts like a cat, meowing, purring and sometimes even moving like a cat - I thought of him as a parody of Cat Noir from Miraculous). And when Violet is not receptive to this, the boy presents his sister, that is waiting behind Violet. A big, burly, muscular girl with a bulldog-like face.

Miranda is also contacted by Fickelgrubber emissaries - twin girls, identical, but "perfect", as in with perfectly clean and ordered clothes, identical beautiful hairstyle, and the like (I thought of them as inspired by the twins from The Shining). They are basically the kind of "perfect" and "proper" kids Miranda seeks to create in the world. And they try to convince her to join them (they even have prepared for Miranda clothes identical to their own so that they would become their new sister). I don't know however how would Miranda react to that - either she refuses, due to stealing secrets being perceived as cheating and she is against it ; either the sisters actually convince her to go along with the plan by the simple argument that Wonka is an excentric, ridiculous man that gets success without hard work, and Miranda hates both goofy/clownish and not-hard-working people.

As for Charlie Bucket, he will actually be visited in turn by one messenger from each chocolatier (in fact, he may even escape them when they start fighting each other).

Slugworth's emissary... I actually don't know. Xp I thought of maybe a kind olf man, almost grandfather like, that acts all nice and doting, but then reveals that inside his cane, there is a blade.

Prodnose's emissary is a loud-talking woman with a lot of makeup and wearing a huge coat made out of crocodile (I thought of her as a mix of Cruella and Ursula).

As for Fickelgrubber's emissaries, Charlie meets at first a beautiful Japanese teenager (male or female?) dressed in a refined suit, something between a fashion model and a succesful business owner. And when their smooth talk fails, they present their brothers - because they are triplets. And appear from the darkness two huge sumos, teenagers yes, but the size of elephants. (This was again inspired by usual sumo appearances in cartoons, from JCA to the Simpsons passing by Shuriken School).

#catcf #charlie and the chocolate factory #white chocolate #augustus gloop #mike teavee #violet beauregarde #veruca salt #terence roper #miranda mary piker #fickelgrubber #prodnose #slugworth

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

It’s too Early for This

Summary: For Henrik’s birthday. Henrik has been receiving some gruesome leftovers every morning, and all signs point to Anti.

This is the exchange I made up in my head that inspired this whole fic:

Marvin: (sends fireworks overhead written in Jackie’s name)

Jackie: (misses the display completely)

Marvin: (screams in frustration)

Anti: (leaves dead birds to proclaim his love)

Henrik: I do not have enough coffee in my system to deal wiz zis.

Anti: (sad glitch noises)

Anti was an eccentric but after a couple months you got used to him. Or at least you learned to read his moods.

Unlike Dark or Phantom who would just glare at you and you had five seconds to guess and hope you got it right, Anti was straightforward. When he was bored he stabbed the closest moving object. When he was angry he stabbed the closest thing in general. There was no hesitation, no word play, no brooding in his room because things didn’t go his way.

But Anti had been bothering Henrik a lot, and leaving dead things outside his door. First it was small things like robins and finches. Then it was squirrels, and badgers. One morning Henrik had walked out to see a half-disemboweled nightmare beaver from Hell.

So Henrik usually kept a bin in front of his door so they didn’t have to keep replacing the carpet.

Henrik, exhausted from another late night at the hospital, opened his door and expected to see another rodent but what he saw was a human heart in a bin by the door.

Were this post-coffee, and not at 4 AM, Henrik would have his brain fully working and he would have screamed. Now he just stared at the alarm for a couple seconds. Then he picked it up and brought it with him into the kitchen. Jackie was half asleep at the table, looking like death walking, and he hugged his coffee to him as if it was going to save his life.

Seán was in a pair of sweats, and made a double take at the bin, “Shite! Anti again?”

Henrik set it down on top of the trash, immediately going for the coffee. “Ya.”

“Yah want me ta do somethin’ ‘bout him?” Jackieboy Man asked in concern.

“If ze glitch continues to send body parts, zen yes,” Henrik dismissed. “I am not a’vake enough for zis.”

“I feel yah,” Jackie agreed as a tremendous lightning storm hit right over their home, making everyone jump. The lightning hit Seán’s tinnitus particularly hard and spread to the rest of the Septics.

Seán was drinking his coffee, took one look at the heart and the rain again, “Night fookers!”

“It is 4 AM,” Henrik asked.

“Yeah, night,” Seán agreed.

Jackie looked outside and groaned. What he saw was Marvin and Anti were standing close to the street, Anti looking up at the sky and Marvin glaring at Anti. What Marvin had been planning on doing was summoning a huge display of lights for Jackie when the superhero walked out but at the last minute he was distracted by Anti and had messed up the spell, causing a storm instead.

And Marv wonders why our neighbors hate us, Jackie thought dryly.

“Yah fookin’ gopher shite,” Marvin spat at Anti, now thoroughly drenched to the bone.

“Ehh, yah should’a paid attention, maybe next time lover boy,” Anti chuckled.

“Oh like yeh can do any better,” Marvin spat back. “How’s ‘bout I fook over yer attempts ta fook Henrik.”

“Nah, Hein loves my gifts,” Anti reported proudly.

“Anti I s’vear,” Henrik had finally noticed that Anti was standing outside. “If you send me un more organ I vill feed you your own zrough a tube!”

The German doctor slammed the window and Anti had a heartbroken but love struck look on his face.

“Come on, Hein!” Anti groaned. “You can’t threaten me like that an’ not expect me ta fall in love with yah!”

“Smooth,” Marvin started trudging back inside, “real smooth. But, yah know better luck next time lover boy.”

“Shut it fore I kill yah, I sent him a heart, humans love those,” Anti grumbled, following the magician.

“Hey dipshite, yah know humans don’t send real hearts to someone, right?” Marvin reminded.

“What, that’s absurd,” Anti huffed. “What’s the point ‘a givin’ someone a heart if yah can’t hunt it down yer self?”

“We’re human, dumbass,” Marvin spat and once at the door he tried to shake off as much water as possible before heading inside. “Try gettin’ him some flowers or candy, Henrik loves caramel.”

Then he ran inside at a dead sprint to the bathroom to avoid getting as much water on the floor as possible. He failed, Chase noticed and got more than a bit pissed at him.

Anti for his part was just staring, missing Henrik walking out the door until it was too late.

So Anti decided that instead of demon tactics of blood sport and death threats weren’t working he’d try a more human approach, if Henrik wanted flowers and caramel, he’d get it for him.

Henrik day went from annoying to aggravating. He came to work to see Iplier tired but trying to stop himself from cackling. When Henrik looked at his desk it was covered in weeds, houseplants, and dirt. It was covering his desk. Whenever he cleaned up there was always more dirt and flowers. Then around midday he saw a clump of melted caramel just sitting on his desk, speckled with the dirt that Henrik hadn’t completely been able to clean up.

He knew to blame Anti, the glitch demon had been leaving him dead animals for ages, of course he’d dropped melted candy and weeds on his desk.

All day it was non-stop but he never came in time to catch Anti and yelled at him. This resulted in Henrik having a worsening mood all day and going home with death in his eyes. The first person he saw was Marvin who was sleeping on the couch.

“Marvin!” Henrik shouted in fury.

“Didn’t do it!” Marvin’s startled awake.

“Vere is Anti,” Henrik hissed.

“Don’t know, haven’t seen him,” Marvin told him, looking like he was about to fall asleep. “Last I heard he was getting flowers.”

“He put shit on my desk all day und I am going to kill him,” Henrik reported.

“Shit, he’s that bad a flirt?” Marvin grumbled, still half-asleep.

Henrik was so surprised by that statement it jolted him out of his anger a bit, he was still pissed as hell but now he was only slightly less pissed. “What?”

“Ahh, shite, yah didn’t hear nothin’ from me,” Marvin told him, suddenly very awake and scrambling away. “Gonna bug Jackie.”

The magician bolted out the house like he’d been set on fire, leaving Henrik alone with his slowly cooling anger.

The German doctor found Anti throwing his knives at the wall, trying to hit a picture of Seán and Dark’s faces.

“Anti,” Henrik warned.

Anti froze before he could toss another knife, staring at Henrik in surprise, “Sup Hein, you got an invitation.”

“Vhy did you melt caramel und pour dirt all over my desk?” Henrik asked.

“Maybe ‘cause I wanted to,” Anti evaded heatedly.

“Vhy did you put dirt on my desk?” Henrik asked.

“I couldn’t shake ‘em off the plants,” Anti tossed the knife at his dartboard.

“Did you give me flo’vers?” Henrik asked.

“Don’t be stupid, demons don’t give anyone flowers,” Anti denied, getting up to grab his knives again and started throwing them at the board at the other side of the wall that had all the other Septic’s pictures on it, including Henrik’s. Henrik’s picture was also the first one to get a knife thrown through it,

“Are you trying to flirt vit me? Henrik asked, almost certain Anti wasn’t.

But Anti paused and looked over at Henrik, “Is it workin’?”

Henrik took a second or two, deciding if even entertaining the idea of dating Anti was a good idea. He was a killer and more than a bit erratic. “No, I assume ze organs vere also an attempt at flirting.”

“Did yah like ‘em?” Anti asked in excitement.

That excitement was a bit of a surprise to Henrik, and a reminder that he was a demon. “No, ze organs vere vet und kald. Zey also dropped blood all over ze floor, however ze zought vas nice if you vere not attempting to kill me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Anti grinned. “Besides, you threaten me so amazingly.”

“You like ven I z’reaten you?” Henrik asked.

“Course I do,” Anti grinned, inches away from Henrik in his typical flagrancy of Henrik’s personal space. “Yer so fookin’ descriptive.”

“Vell, maybe I can keep z’reatening you if you stop leaving ze animals, und perhaps,” Henrik offered “help me to start my day. I certainly vould not mind help wiz my coffee.”

Anti looked a little hopeful, “Black?”

“Two sugars,” Henrik answered. “No blood or organs.”

“No promises,” Anti smiled and glitched out of existence. Henrik left Anti’s room and relaxed for the rest of the day. He always felt like he was being watched but Anti didn’t show face.

However in the morning when Henrik opened his door, instead of seeing a dead animal or another organ, he saw a warm cup of coffee in his favorite mug in the container. Henrik smiled as he picked it up. He noticed that there were two sugar cubes that looked like human organs, one was a pair of lungs and another was a heart. It was almost too realistic but they crumbled like sugar and tasted like sugar so best bet was that they were sugar.

Henrik lifted the mug to his lips and went back into his room to change into his scrubs.

#birthday post #pre-slash #use of organs and roadkill while flirting #Jacksepticeye #Henrik von Schneeplestein #Antisepticeye #Marvin the Magnificient #Jackieboy Man #Antistein #Doctor Glitch #Marvelsepticeye #bad flirting #Anti acts like a cat #cultural differences #demonic flirting #Anti tries his best #Marvin tries too hard #Anti is a good bean in this fic #pre-slash because they don't know how to communicate

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rora-s · 3 years

Text

Life Series Book 1 Chapter 1: Broken Peace

“Arbor Eliffe! You get back here young lady!” I ran at top speed as Mrs. Greenwood yelled after me brandishing her woven basket over her head.

I laughed like a maniac as I happily got away with the pockets of my jacket stuffed with cookies. However I hadn’t quite reached the woods when a hand reached out and pulled me back by the collar of my coat.

I turned and smiled sheepishly at my father. He didn’t say anything as Mrs. Greenwood caught up to us. “Burian she’s done it again” the woman huffed her breath making little clouds in the cold air with each exhale. “Stole the whole tray the little troublemaker” she prodded me in the stomach with her basket which made me squirm from where my small frame was still being held up by my father gripping my collar.

“I’m sorry Lavender, I'll have Camella bake you a fresh batch if you would like” my father offered.

I looked up at the adults talking over my head. “Hey I still have ‘em here in my pocket” I explained. Reaching in I pulled out a handful of crushed cookies.

My father sighed and Mrs. Greenwood let off a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. “I’ll be waiting for your wife’s delivery,” the woman declared turning on her stubby legs and hobbling back to her little cottage. I stuck my tongue out at her back.

“Arbor” my father spoke scoldingly.

“What?!” I exclaimed “she’s a mean old woman!”

My dad let off a breath “that’s not-” he was cut off by a tearing noise and in the next moment my butt was in the snow. I looked up to see the torn collar of my coat in my father’s hand. “Let’s go home,” he declared defeatedly. “We’ll talk there”

I followed my father through our small village. Cradled in a little glen it was a peaceful, wintery world all to our own. It was mostly filled with Dryads like my family and Mrs. Greenwood but we had the occasional animal friend who came to say. The Beavers who lived in the nearby dam came over every once and awhile to buy some things and a family of deer had a hollow down the road.

It was a calm place most of the time. However there were times when we would hear the bells of the queen’s carriage or the pounding feet of the security police pack and would have to go inside. Those times me and mother would wait in the back room until father came and got us. To tell us things were safe.

When me and father got home the first thing he did was take my coat and dump the pockets into the trash bin. Which I felt was a great waste. Then we headed into the kitchen where my mother was cooking. “Darling is that you?” she called over her shoulder.

“It’s both of us” my father replied “someone got in trouble with Lavender Greenwood again”

“Hey she’s the one that hordes all those goodies she bakes” I argued “and I’m not the only one who steals them”

“Yes you’re just the one who gets caught the most” my mother chuckled turning around. She came over to the pair of us “i’ll make Lavender a new batch of cookies” she looked down at me squinting her eyes “oh look you’ve got dirt on your face” she murmured raising her apron to wipe my cheeks.

“Mom” I whined. “It’s just a little dirt from Mrs. Greenwood’s garden.” she continued to scrub at my face “why are you making her cookies anyway? She’s the mean one who’s always glaring”

My mother sighed, apparently giving up on getting my face clean. “How about I double the recipe then and we can keep the extra batch?”

“I quite like that plan” I smiled as she stood.

“Oh so you’re rewarding our little thief here now are you?” my father inquired of my mother with a smirk.

“Well Mrs. Greenwood is quite the grouchy old woman” mother pointed out. I gave my father a proud smirk having said something very similar earlier.

“What am I to do with you two?” the man of the house sighed.

“Love us” I cheered.

“I quite like that answer” mother laughed lightly. Then she noticed my father holding my coat. “Oh what happened to your coat?” she inquired coming over.

“Dad ripped it” I pointed up at the man quickly.

“Nice” he grumbled down at me.

I shrugged “it’s the truth”

“Alright well we’ll get this fixed up then” the woman declared taking up the torn fabric. She sat it off to the side and returned to making dinner.

“Come here kid” my father picked me up and sat me on the table. “We have to talk about all this stealing you’ve been doing. Mrs. Greenwood’s cookies, yarn from Mr. Orchard.”

“It’s not stealing” I objected “it’s borrowing”

“Do you return it?” my father inquired. I didn’t answer because I knew he was right “exactly now you can’t do that alright. Your five years old Arbor you have to understand. People work hard to make or earn the things you just take.”

“But I work hard to take them,” I explained. “I had to wait for an hour outside Mrs. Greenwood’s window for her to place the cookies out and then even longer for them to cool off.”

I heard my mother chuckle and my father sighed “listen Arbor things have value beyond just the work you put into them. Things like the value of promises and hope and love” my father sighed and sat down. “Here I’ll tell you a story. There once was a great king of Narnia. A king by the name of Aslan back in a time when our people would dance and bloom. Green grassy hills and fields filled with colorful flowers, petals drifting on the wind. Great celebrations with singing and dancing with the fauns and centaurs and all the other creatures of the wood.”

“That sounds incredible,” I explained. “You would dance outside in the snow?”

“There was no snow then” the man objected “Before this eternal winter there was once the four seasons. There was spring where things would grow and bloom and we’d have rainy days to splash in puddles. Summer where it would get so hot in the day we would all relax in the shade and play music, we’d have bonfires and tell stories. Autumn when all the trees would turn beautiful colors and we would harvest the fields preparing great feasts and parties. Then when winter would come it would be a short time where we’d go sledding, build snowmen, snuggle inside with warm drinks, and give gifts to one another”

“Wow” I exclaimed in awe imagining such a world “what happened?”

My father’s joyous smile faltered “it was stolen away from us by the White Witch.” my father explained he glanced over at my mother who had been watching us as she cooked. Her face heavy, and rigid in concern and sadness. “She came and she stole and she destroyed, Arbor. She took our joy and our happiness she took all the magic from our beautiful world and filled it with winter and sadness and fear”

“That’s awful” I murmured looking out the window at the white snow falling outside.

“She stole Arbor and she destroyed this entire land do you understand now why you must never steal what belongs to another?” he asked.

I nodded quickly “but there has to be some way to end this winter? I want to see spring, summer, autumn”

My father smiled warmly. Then looked around as if he expected us to be overheard before scooting closer. “There is a prophecy left to us by Aslan.” he cleared his throat dramatically before continuing “it goes: When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits in Car Paraval in throne the evil time will be over and done.”

“Wow” I breathed, keeping my voice low in a mirror of his “what does it mean?”

“It means that one day two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve. In other words two human boys and two human girls will come into this land and vanquish the White Witch restoring all we once had to Narnia”

I let off an excited giggle “they’ll bring spring back?” I questioned loudly.

“Shh shh” my father hushed lightly “yes they will.” he sighed and reached a hand out to touch my cheek “oh and my dear Arbor I hope you get to see it”

There was a moment of silence in the house before mother sighed “alright you two enough story time” she decreed. “Burian I need you to go pick me some more apples for the crumble”

“I can do it mom” I exclaimed jumping from the table. “I want to go see Malic”

“Oh alright but your coat is torn” my mother observed.

“Here she can borrow mine, it's not that far to Malic’s orchard,” my father offered. He picked his jacket from the back of his chair and wrapped it around me. It smelled like him, warm and comforting. Like pine needles and old wood. The jacket was far too large for me made of brown leather, however it didn’t drag on the ground and I could move in it. “There that should suffice for your small journey”

“Here” Mother handed me a basket. “Alright now it’s getting late so off to Malic’s and then straight back here for dinner”

“Yes ma’am” I nodded in agreement as I shuffled to the door. “I love you!”

“Love you too darling” father replied.

“Love you” my mother also voiced kissing my forehead and then ushering me out the door.

I ran down the snowy lane. Weaving past ice patches and giving an extra big smile to the glowering Mrs. Greenwood as I passed by her Cottage. Entering the woods I navigated among the trees with practiced ease. I reached my destination with a happy squeal.

“Malic!” I greeted the aged apple tree. He rustled his branches in greeting. I reached up and placed a hand to his trunk leaning in. I felt the life rushing below and within his bark. I felt a weight hit my arm and looked to see an apple had fallen into my basket. “Oh thank you mother sent me to collect some for a crumble she’s making.” I explained.

Malic reached down with his branched and I climbed up among them. I loved going high up into the air and looking out at the woods. Sitting in his branches I began to pick offered apples and tell him the grand story my father had told to me. Malic allowed me to jabber at him for a long time before I finally realized the sun was setting behind me and it was getting dark.

“Oh I have to go, my mother said to be back quickly” I told the tree. “I’ll be back tomorrow though” I promised. Malic let me down from his branches and I began to run back toward the village waving goodbye to my friend.

I weaved among the growing shadows of the trees, my feet crunching in the snow. I was nearly out of the woods when I was brought to a stop as a scream split the air. Fear suddenly shot through my veins as my breathing picked up. I started forward again slowly as firelight came into view. I entered the glen and dropped my basket with a gasp at the sight. People were running around madly two of the houses of the village burned and another began to catch.

Statues that looked a lot like people I knew stood along the street in frozen images of terror. Shielding themselves from whatever was about to attack them. Standing there in the middle of it, just as frozen as the statues around her, crystal white with a gleaming scepter in her hand admiring the chaos with a look that could only be described as a chilling evil. The White Witch.

I stood there staring as screaming was all around me just looking at her. Then someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see the panicked eyes of Mrs. Greenwood. “Arbor, come this way quickly!” she whispered urgently and dragged me off toward her house. We came inside and she pulled me over to a place on the floor. Lifting a hatch she rushed me down into the little crawl space below. “Stay here” she whispered hurriedly looking over her shoulder.

“Where’s my mom and dad?” I asked desperately.

“Shhh” she hushed me quickly. “Just stay quiet and stay hidden. Arbor please stay here until everything is quiet please promise me”

“I promise” I agreed, too terrified to do much else. She closed the hatch and I heard what sounded like her slapping the carpet back over it. The small space suddenly became very dark. I curled up into myself and listened.

There were screams and crashing and yelling and the roar of fire and things falling more screaming. I covered my ears and rolled on my side burying my head into my father’s jacket. Praying for peace.

It was a long time before there was finally peace. I remained hidden in the darkness long after there was silence listening in fear. However, eventually I rose from my place on the floor and pushed on the hatch with my shaking hands. Slowly it creaked open. Climbing out I looked around. The house above was trashed, the table overturned and the door crashed in. Gentle morning light was pouring in from every crack in the walls and through the shattered glass in the window.

Slowly I walked forward. Every step sounded far too loud in the chilling quiet. I exited the house and looked around in despair. Half the village was burned to the ground. The street was empty. I walked on down the road heading for home. Praying that it was safe hoping my parents were there waiting for me. Hoping they would be there to tell me everything was alright. The more I thought of them the faster I went until I was running around the corner to my house.

I stopped dead in my tracks. It was gone. The entire home was ruble. Burnt to a chard crisp. I felt tears threatening my eyes as I looked around and didn’t see anyone. “Mom? Dad?” I called into the silence. There was no response “Mom?! Dad?!” I called louder. Still nothing I called again and my voice broke as my knees buckled. They were gone.

#chronicles of narnia #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #the life series #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #aslan #the beavers #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #fanfiction #narnia fanfiction #also on ao3

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kristannafever · 4 years

Text

Mountain Man - Four

Kristanna modern au

Rated: MA

WC: 2845

~Collab with @lukin08

Chapter Index

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

There was no talking between them as Kristoff sat on the stump at the table and pulled off his boots. Anna sighed as she shucked off her thick layers, happy to be free from them for the night.

He hung all his wet clothes on a hook behind the stove then walked straight over to Anna as she was piling her clothes into her arms. He took them from her and hung them with his without a word.

Anna sat down as he walked into his room, cursed, then came back out to grab the lantern from the table before going back. She heard shuffling for a moment, then he emerged in what she understood now was his pajamas; a flannel pair of pants and a long sleeve t-shirt with a logo too faded to recognize.

He took a seat across from her at the table. “Are your hands okay?” he asked.

Anna studied him for a moment, realising there was compassion in his eyes.

“Yes, thank you.”

He kept his gaze focused on her. Anna wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but for a split second she could see softness in him. It was gone in a flash as he turned sideways on the stump and leaned back against the wall. “No, I think it’s more like thank you. You pretty much saved our skins with your… fix.”

He ended it awkwardly and Anna understood he was not used to someone else offering something other than what he knew.

“At least we didn’t have to sleep in the woods or something,” she said, offering him a smile.

His face dimmed, as he stared out into the room. “It’s hard,” he said, “sleeping out in the open like that. I’ve had my share. It’s not very fun.”

He looked sad all of the sudden and Anna had that crushing sense of lonliness press on her again to realize what kind of life he led.

“So, what do you do when you relax?” she asked softly.

“Well,” he let out a breath and looked around his small cabin, “I read. I cook. Most of the time I work on everything so late that the only energy I have left is to crawl into bed.”

“What about when you get too snowed in and the books have all been read, and you’ve already cooked?”

“Well, I have cards. I am pretty good solitaire player.”

Anna’s eyes went wide at the prospect of having something to do. “Want to play a card game?”

He regarded her closely for a moment before he spoke. “I do have a crib board.”

“No way?” Anna could not container excitement. She had not played crib in an eternity.

He got up without a word and opened a cabinet in his little kitchen, rummaging a little before he came up with the prize and brought it back to the table.

“Wait. Can I ask, why you have a crib board if you are up here all alone?”

“I brought it with me, actually. I thought I could play myself. Kind of like solitaire. But it wasn’t very fun. Actually, it sucked,” he said as he removed the cards from the box and started to shuffle them. Anna had never seen someone shuffle so well. His hands were incredibly nimble for how big they were.

Kristoff won the cut and they started to play. Anna was surprised how good he was at it. She was going to take it easy on him thinking that he was a bit rusty, but he was kicking her ass. She decided that she was somehow going to beat him.

Kristoff smiled as he pegged into the winner’s slot. Anna realized it was the first time she had ever seen him do so. It was a little muted by his heavy moustache and long beard, but lovely nonetheless.

His expression quickly shifted uncomfortably and Anna realized that she was staring again.

He ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. “So, what are you in the mood for… for dinner?”

“Oh, whatever you were planning on making. I don’t need very much.” As soon as she said it her stomach growled very audibly. Anna looked away from his eyes, embarrassed.

“I’m hungry too,” he said, then got up and walked over to his small kitchen as if he didn’t pick up on her self-conciousness in the slightest.

He pulled down a large pot and walked outside to fill it with water. Once he was back inside, he placed it on the stove to boil and grabbed down a jar of dried macaroni. Then he moved the rug that sat in the middle of the cabin to reveal a trap door. Anna felt silly that she didn’t even realize it was there. Of course he would have built a cellar for food storage.

As soon as he lifted the door Anna was hit with a blast of cool air. That was why he had the rug over the door, to keep out the draft. He disappeared into the floor and came back quickly with a brown-paper wrapped package and a can of diced tomatoes. Anna closed the door and put the rug back in place for him as he set the items on the counter.

He grabbed a skillet from one of his cabinets and placed it beside the water on the stove, dumping the contents of the paper inside. Anna realized it was a package of finely diced meat. When he added the can of tomatoes, she realized he was making a meat sauce for the pasta.

The thought of this meal compared to the bland dryness the one the night before made Anna’s mouth water. The saltiness from the canned tomatoes would add some much needed flavour.

Kristoff took a seat on the log at his table after the two pots were on the stove. Anna understood that cooking in that method took its time compared to having a direct flame. Especially since she could see that the meat was partially frozen. She had wanted to help him cook but the only thing they could really do now was wait.

“Want to play a game while it’s cooking?” Anna asked. “I still need to beat you.”

He chuckled softly, “Sure.” He grabbed the crib board to reset the pegs as Anna shuffled the cards.

They played while they both took turns getting up and stirring the pots on the stove. By the time the game was finished and Kristoff had skunked her again, the food was done. Kristoff placed the pots on the kitchen counter then grabbed a jar of yellow flakes off the shelf and sprinkled them in the sauce and stirred.

“What’s that?” Anna asked, setting up and going over to where he was standing in the kitchen.

“It’s called nooch.”

“Nooch?”

“Well, nutritional yeast, actually. Nooch is just a nickname. It’s the closest thing I can get to making things taste cheesy,” he chuckled.

“Really? It doesn’t look very cheesy,” Anna wrinkled her nose up a little at the thought of the weird flakes.

“Here, try,” he lifted the spoon with some of the sauce and offered it to Anna.

She leaned forward, blowing a little on the steaming sauce before tasting it. Damn if he wasn’t right. There was a delicious cheesy hint to the wonderful sauce. She let out an unexpected and delighted moan.

“Oh my God, that’s so good.”

Kristoff’s cheeks turned red as he cleared his throat and got a set of plates and utensils. He dished them both in a hearty portion of pasta and spit the sauce between the two of them. Anna found it curious that he was giving her as much as he was dishing in for himself. Goodness knew with his size that he needed the sustenance more than her.

“Thanks,” Anna said when he offered her the plate. She sat at the table and started to eat with gusto. It was a phenomenal meal, considering. One she couldn’t fathom after last nights dinner, assuming that all the meals would be chewy gamy meat and horrible bitter grains that screamed for salt during her time stuck with Kristoff in his cabin.

He ate in the same way as the night before and finished before her, despite how fast she was eating. Anna looked down at her remaining food.

“Ugh, I’m so full I can’t eat another bite,” she said, pushing back in the chair and patting her stomach. It was a tiny fib. She was getting full, but she was certainly capable of eating the rest of his delicious cooking. “You want to finish this Kristoff?”

He eyed her for a moment making her aware that he knew exactly what she was doing, then reached over for her plate anyway.

“You sure you’re done?” He raised his eyebrows.

Anna nodded, giving him a big smile.

“Alright, as long as you don’t want it.”

“Have at it,” Anna laughed and tried not to stare at him while he finished the food.

When he was done Anna got up to clear the dishes. Kristoff beat her to it, having both plates in front of him.

“Set up the board,” he said, nodding over to the table. “I’ll give you another shot to redeem yourself.”

“Oh, you are on!” Anna grinned.

*****

Anna was about to ask if Kristoff wanted another game when he yawned. It caught and Anna did the same, suddenly realizing how tired she was herself. She stood, throwing her arms up then slowly out in a satisfying stretch. There was something to be said about the fulling ache from a hard days work.

Kristoff shook his head at her and went to put the game away. Then he stoked the fire while Anna went to his room and crawled into his bed, settling herself on her side as far to the edge as possible. After a moment Kristoff joined her, leaving a space between them, and Anna realized that it was warmer in the cabin than the night before. Had he been keeping the fire hotter for her? Probably. Most likely not wanting to have to deal with her by using his body heat to keep her warm during the night.

“Thanks for what you did today,” he said, startling her a little.

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it. That fix on the sled. That was…. Impressive. It never would have crossed my mind to do it like that.”

“Well, thanks.”

He was quiet for a moment and Anna thought he was settling into sleep. He surprised her again when he spoke once more.

“Have you lived in Alaska all your life?”

“Yeah,” she answered, rolling over to face him. She couldn’t really make out his features in the dark. She could only see his outline from the dim light coming from the fire in the stove. “My parents raised my sister and me up in Nome with their plane business. We both learned to fly at a young age.”

“Your father is an outdoorsman?”

Anna chuckled. “How did you guess?”

“Well, you sure came up with that broken rod solution pretty quick. And mentioning using beaver for the martin traps, I just kind of figured that you had learned that somewhere?”

“Yeah, my father sold beaver pelts as a side business. He enjoyed the outdoors, definitely. I swear the only time he was ever in the house when we were kids, was to eat and sleep.” Anna smiled to herself at the memory. “He was always smiling when he was outside.”

“How long ago did he pass away?”

Anna pulled in a breath, surprised that he had picked up on her use of past-tense. “About fourteen years ago. I lost him and my Mom. Their plane went down in the mountains in bad weather.”

“And you were going to try and fly around that storm yesterday?”

Anna frowned in the dark. “Yeah, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She ignored him. “Flying has never sacred me. Ever. It never scared my Dad either. I suppose that’s why I kept doing it, ever after the accident and my sister flaked on me.”

He was quiet. Anna was sure he had had just about enough of her pathetic life story. But when he spoke again, his voice in the darkened glow of the room was as soft as she had ever heard.

“Your sister couldn’t handle being around them anymore? Planes?”

“You guessed it,” she sighed. “Elsa never set foot in the hanger after the day they died. She became quite neurotic and spiralled into a bout of heavy depression… you know, never leaving the house, sleeping too much, not eating, that sort of thing. I got quite worried about her. It was almost impossible to be there for her and try and run our parent’s business on my own. That was until Frank stepped into my life in the need of hanger space and a business partner when he moved to Nome.”

“He did?”

“Uh huh. He saved my bacon, he really did. I was on a fast track to a mental breakdown. He helped me get the business back on track so I could help my sister. She got better quickly, thank goodness, and Arendelle Air finally started to thrive. Still is, in fact. Elsa even started to take on some of the responsibly like the bookwork and stuff like that, even though she does it is all from home. Can’t get her anywhere near a plane.”

“Sounds like everything is working out,” he said quietly.

“It was, until Frank had a heart attack and they revoked his pilot licence. He basically retired but he sticks around to help me handle all the ground work. I had to take on all the rest, like flying supplies out to people like you.”

Kristoff was deathly quiet for a moment. “I… I never knew that… Frank had a heart attack.”

“You never asked,” Anna said, not meaning for it to sound as pointed as it did.

He didn’t respond for a long time. Anna shifted and rolled back away from him assuming that he was finished talking.

“I’m sorry,” he offered, breaking his silence.

“About what?” Anna asked, still facing away. “Had nothing to do with you.”

“I should have asked.”

“Wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“But still-”

“Listen, Kristoff… I’m not upset or anything. It’s just what happened. Goodness knows you have more shit to worry about than a new pilot… like waking up and trying to make it through the day without dying.”

“I know it’s hard to understand this lifestyle-”

“It’s not hard for me to understand. For me it’s impossible to understand.”

He resumed his silence and they lay there in the dark for a long time, thinking to themselves before Kristoff pulled in a yawn and Anna realised that he was keeping himself awake, not wanting to leave the conversation hanging in the air they way it did before they fell asleep. Truthfully, neither did she. Things between them were tense enough already, they might as well try and be civil towards each other since they were sleeping in the same bed.

“We better try and get some sleep so we are rested for the tasks tomorrow,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

“Goodnight Kristoff.”

“Goodnight Anna.”

She felt him settle himself into a position and he was quiet a moment before he whispered. “Let me know if you get cold.”

“Okay, thank you,” Anna whispered back.

She was dead tired, but she couldn’t fall asleep. Kristoff had started to breathe long and slow behind her and she tried to focus on the rhythm of that. Instead, her mind started to wander and she didn’t like where it was leading her. She especially didn’t like that she was imagining having his warm body wrapped against hers right now.

She let out a frustrated sigh, tugging the blankets up tighter to her chin. Alone all this time! And for what? Anna couldn’t wrap her head around it. He didn’t really seem to fit the mold of some of the more hardened mountain men she did runs for. She stared at the dark wall, wondering again how Kristoff could choose to live a life with no one. Not that it mattered what she thought. As soon as the weather cleared, she’d be out of here and she wouldn’t have to even think about Kristoff again until spring for the next supply hauls.

He let out a snore before he suddenly moved, rolling over and right up against Anna’s back. His arm fell loosely around her and he settled back into his deep sleep immediately. Anna was still for a moment before finally letting her body relax. She sighed quietly, gently snuggling herself closer to him and letting her eyes slide shut, realizing that being held by him was exactly what she needed, and she gave into the sleep that pressed on her immediately.

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#mountain man #cee and edin wrote this #kristanna #kristanna modern au #kristoff #anna

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melyaliz · 4 years

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Past Loves and Future Babies pt. 7

Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel / MCU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC

Notes: I feel like this chapter get’s a little muddy in the middle. I am TRYING to move the plot along but… these two are so slow. And I also got hella stuck, I think it was because my editor is ripping apart my novel and I am questioning everything.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

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“Good morning huckson.”

Steve blinked owlishly standing in the doorway of the bedroom staring at Dixie. Seeing her awake before him was a sight he wasn’t quite used to. In Fact he wasn’t sure he had, in the almost three weeks of living together, seen her up before noon. Already wide awake and ready for the day, the perky girl was holding a mug of coffee in her hand with a huge smile on her face.

“Where did you get that apron?”

Dixie giggled twisting the frilly pink apron slightly. “Do I look like a little housewife because I’m getting those major June Cleaver vibes.”

Chuckling Steve nodded even though -like most of her references- he had no idea what she was talking about. But her excitement was always infectious. Letting out a yawn he ran his fingers through his hair which only made his bed head worse. He reminded Dixie of the small dog, Beaver, she had as a child. The little dog’s ears used to fold over when he fell asleep on the couch only to wake up with a growl looking around as if ready to fight off the world. Poor little thing use to think he was a lot bigger than he really was.

She had loved that dog

“What are you making?” Steve broke through Dixie’s daydream about her first cuddle buddy as he looked over her shoulder at the slightly smoking pan. White blobs that were darkening around the sides looked up at him. “It looks… interesting.”

“It’s supposed to be pancakes but… I may just see if I have better luck with cereal.” Dixie mumbled poking the centers of the cakes making them oze slightly.

Grabbing two bowls Steve went for the cabinet that Dixie had stocked with all kinds of cereals. Each with its own colorful cartoon mascot on the front and prize inside. A week into moving in she had told him that she was an adult and was going to eat like one and then ordered a huge supply of every surgery cereal she could find.

Not that Steve could complain, especially after she showed him the wonders of mixing cocoa pebbles into your ice cream.

“So what’s the occasion for the cakes?”

“I wanted to try something new,” Dixie mumbled, scraping the charred bits into the trash. “It’s been officially three weeks since I moved in and no fights.”

“Has it only been three weeks?”

“Feels like an eternity doesn’t it.”

“In a good way.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Dixie took her bowl of Lucky Charms, taking a bite before moving to a seat on the kitchen bar. “So what are Mr. America’s plans for today?”

And their morning started. Each of them making plans over rainbow marshmallows. Helping each other grab water and napkins while moving around the kitchen. Both of them being super domestic

Steve didn’t even realize how much he had settled into their routine until he was handing Dixie her yoga mat on his way out for his run with Bucky and Sam. Her face lighting up as he mentioned maybe taking her to the beach over the weekend sometime since she had been saying she had wanted to go.

As he ran laps with Bucky and Sam he knew what he had to do. What Dixie deserved to know.

Because she was right, they were a team.

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

Having book time with Wanda had become a thing. Dixie had never been a tea and book girl, more of a “let’s go hang out at the mall and talk about boys” kind of kid growing up, but there was something about reading it with someone else that… gave it all a new perspective. Plus she didn’t know how Wanda did it but that girl made amazing tea. And sometimes there would even be baked goods to go along with the warm drinks.

And if there was one thing Dixie loved, it was baked goods.

She was turning into a regular little Hallmark girl.

Although she continued to stick to the small collection of trashy books that had been hidden in the corner of the beautiful library.

“I got you something,” Wanda said as they both sat down next to a spread of tea and scones.

“Aww why?”

“Well you were almost done with your book.” handing Dixie a box Wanda shrugged. “I was picking up some other books from a local used book store and I saw them in a dollar bin and couldn’t resist.”

“Are these?”

“Yep, amazing painted covers and everything.”

“Look at that hair.” Dixie giggled running her finger over the worn frayed paper cover. The man that held the beautiful buxom woman had the most beautiful hair. Honestly, Dixie was jealous. What shampoo did he wear?

“I am so excited to read these! Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for keeping me company.” Wanda said playing with the hem of her shirt. “It gets kind of… lonely here sometimes.”

Dixie felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. She always seemed to feel sorry for herself and how she felt out of place and alone here but she never really stopped to consider how the other heroes lived. What they had gone through, what trials they had had to face in their lives that brought them here.

It was probably something way more fun than a time magician telling you your future child to save the world.

Growing up, for whatever reason, Dixie had always had a hard time making and keeping friends. The fact that Wanda had come to her and took the time to make her feel at home really meant something.

From her morning with Steve to this afternoon with Wanda Dixie was starting to feel like maybe…

Maybe she belonged.

Or at least fit in for now.

It was good not to be hated by your roomates.

“Well cheers.” Dixie said, holding up her cup of tea, “to keep each other company and hair goals.”

Wanda giggled holding up her glass clinking the porcelain together. “I can’t wait for you to explain the plot to me in great detail.”

“Oh you know I will.”

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

“So you’ll never guess what happened… what’s up?” Dixie froze in the doorway of their apartment, the box of books in hand. Steve looked up from the couch where he was pensively sitting. Something about the way his blue eyes looked up at her through dark lashes told her he was about to say something she wasn’t going to enjoy hearing. Her stomach lurched slightly feeling sick. For a moment she wanted to run.

So much for fitting in.

“I… I want to tell you about something… or someone.”

“Ok” slowly she took a seat next to him, pulling her legs up underneath her. Calm down Dixie, he’s not upset with you. This is good, he’s opening up more. Taking a few calming breaths she tried to calm her heart. Tried to keep her mouth busy taking in air and not blabbering out her nerves.

They both sat in silence for a moment. It stretched across them filling the room. Sticky and sour Dixie wanted to open a window, or jump out of it.

“Do you remember how I was saying that I wasn’t going to be around?”

“Yeah?”

“Well there was… someone.” he paused fumbling with a small folder he had been holding, “I… she… I had the chance to go back but.” pulling out a small photo he handed it to her, “It was too late, she had moved on.”

Dixie took the black and whtie image, a beautiful dark haired woman smiled sassily up at her.

“Well fuck Steve, she’s georges. I would leave everyone for her too” Dixie said looking over the image.

“You’re beautiful too” Steve rushed to say, making Dixie wince slightly waving away his protests about their looks.

“I mean I know that but… like look at her.” Dixie held up the image of Peggy to her own face. “You can’t even compare us.”

“Yeah I guess.”

Dixie hadn’t really been that into history (or school) so she didn’t know much about the Howling Commandos. And after she had to go move in with their leader she had decided not to do any googling beforehand.

Better to keep your expectations and knowledge low.

“But It’s ok whatever you want to talk about, it’s ok.” Gently Dixie took his hand putting the photo on the coffee table. It was moments like these she wasn’t that good at. The sad ones. The ones where someone was trying to work through their emotions. “What happened?”

“I wouldn't even know where to start.”

“It doesn’t matter, go all over the place. I’ve seen Inception I can keep up”

He was right, there was so much. Peggy had been more than just who he had been before but she was also where he came from. Like Bucky, in many ways Peggy was what made Steve Rogers Captain America.

She was etched in his very being, written into his DNA.

They ended up talking for hours moving from the couch to take a walk around the compound until late into the evening.

Dixie had never assumed that Steve and her would work out. From the moment they had met. Yet they were fated to have a child together in whatever timeline mambo jumbo the gold ol’ Doc Strange had come from. But having a child didn’t mean anything. It could have been a one night stand, or a horrible ending relationship.

Or maybe Dixie was a different person then.

Or maybe Steve was.

So Dixie had decided before she got into that cab that no matter what she would keep this professional. That she would not feel anything romantic, she couldn’t let disappointment or that kind of hurt back into her life.

But under the stars listening to this man retell his heartbreak she couldn’t help but wish she could take it back. There was something tragically romantic about letting yourself love that way.

Maybe she had been reading too many romantic stories.

“You know, honestly, I’m envious.”

“You’re envious of my broken heart?” Steve asked

“No, I just. I never let myself feel that way. Pulling her legs up to her chest Dixie looked up at the inky black sky.

“It’s not about letting yourself, when it’s right… when you find that person you’ll understand.”

“I won’t” she whispered so softly picking at the grass at her feet. The words slipping from her lips before she even meant to say them aloud. Steve wasn’t even sure he heard it. Turning he looked at her as she threw the blades into the endless sea of green they were sitting in. .

“What?”

“Huh?” she blinked turning to him, her eyes wide, lips pursed. Looking like a child who had just been caught saying a bad word.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He wasn’t going to push it. She had given him time to tell her about his secrets and he would just have a wait for her to tell him his.

“You know” she said, pulling him back to them sitting there. To the night of stories and screits. “our kids are going to be adorable. I hope they has your eyes.”

Something about the sight of her. Curled up next to him with her arms wrapped around her knees pulling them close to her. The way the sky was so filled with stars, the silver moon giving the only light around them. Steve felt a warmth spread about them, even with the cool night air. “I hope they have your sense of humor.”

Leaned forward he kissed her. Enjoying her taste, the way she seemed to melt into him. Her body so soft and delicate.

“Oh but not my amazing looks?” she asked as he pulled away. That large smile on her face, eyes bright. Steve felt his heart skip slightly. She was so adorable in such unexpected ways.

“Those too.”

“No, you can’t take it back” she giggled grabbing his hand pulling him up. He watched her as she struggled to pull his large body up.

“What?”

“Dance with me.”

“There is no music.” he laughed getting up.

“So?” She shrugged before starting to hum softly. He wrapped his arms around her enjoying the feeling of her small curvy body pulled up to his.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

Dixie paused looking up at him, blinking rapidly, “What?”

“I’m just” he sighed, kissing her forehead, “I'm glad.”

“If you had to heal from a soulmate level heartbreak it was with me?”

“I didn’t…”

“No, I… that’s a huge compliment. Thank you Steve.”

“Our child will be lucky to have you as a mother.”

As they slowly swayed under the night sky Dixie couldn’t help but get swept up in the moment. That feeling a stability that she got when she was in his arms. That feeling of truly having a place to belong. A life that wasn’t just one day to the next.

In his arms she had to remind herself that nothing had changed. That he wasn’t hers and that she was a woman outside of this that she could never run from.

But in his arms it was hard to keep herself focused.

And that scared the shit out of her.

-GET TAGGED!-

Masterlist

Forever tag: @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep @cdwmtjb8

Future Baby TAG

@itsmeeluciie @thefemalethatwrites

#Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers angst #Steve Rogers x oc #Steve Rogers x You #Steve Rogers x y/n

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jupitermelichios · 4 years

Text

Jupiter’s Top 10 Fic Series of the Decade

In no particular order (and belonging to no particular fandom)

Honourable Mentions: Of Hunters & Hellblazers by KittyAug - Self Help by maskedfangirl - Bad Jokes by hahaharley - Doubtful Sanity by DustToDust - Wilton’s Bakery ‘Verse by machine_dove & sproings - Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc by etothepii - New Favourite F Word by Polaris - little beasts by noctiphany & likewinning

drawn into something by Nonymos (Venom, Eddie/Venom, Dan/Anne, Eddie/Venom/Dan/Anne)

“Eddie, you… and him.”

“Yeah.” Eddie stares at the floor. “And… and look, Annie, I know it’s weird, but I can explain, I…”

His voice breaks, he’s damn near tearing up, panic rising again—and he jumps when Anne cups his face.

“Hey, it’s—it’s all right, Eddie.” She’s making a valiant effort to smile. “Don’t get so worked up. I’m not gonna run screaming.”

“No?” He laughs and sniffs. “Damn. Starting to wonder what it’s gonna take, at this point.”

This is not Nonymos’s only entry on this list. In fact they may just be my favourite fanfic author of all time. Drawn into something is everything everything I want from a Venom sequel, emotional, kinky, romantic, and poly.

OTP: Fight Club by MorganOfTheFey (Detroit: Become Human, RK900/Gavin)

"One hundred. Ten X," Nines says, voice flat enough it almost doesn't sound like bragging. "I would have been decommissioned otherwise."

"Ohhhh. Aw, that's sad. Just," She tries to snap her fingers and gets distracted for a moment when she can't. "Jus'like that?"

"Yeah RK, that's so sad," Gavin echoes. "Can you play yourself despacito?"

His own phone blares the song barely a second later. Gavin drops a few f-bombs fumbling to get it out of his jacket pocket and turn it off. Then as soon as he puts it back in his pocket, it starts up again.

"Thank you for the suggestion, detective," RK900 says. "This is making me feel better."

The fourth part of this is still coming out, and it’s the highlight of my week when the new chapter drops.

Dreams of the Waking Man by Lex_Munroe (Marvel Comics, Wade/Cable, Daken/Bullseye, Wade & Hope)

All at once, it hurts. It hurts worse than the day Nate died (because Wade couldn’t accept it back then, insisted that Nate had managed to timeslide out, that the busted old telemetry circuit would only let him go forward and he was just lost for a little while).

He sits in the middle of the floor, ducks his head, cries.

She was smarter than he was—than he is. She’d known all along. Brave girl.

Timesliding doesn’t work right on Wade, never has, and their cobbled-together sliding module barely had power to take one stringy teenager for one jump.

She’d known she was leaving her parents, that she certainly wouldn’t see one of them again and quite possibly wouldn’t see the other.

Wade allows himself a moment more for grief and shame and humility. Then he clears his throat and wipes his eyes and gets back to work.

This may be the cleverest fic I’ve ever read. Crossovers, theoretical physics, and the best love story Marvel never wrote.

The Mountains Are The Same by bonehandledknife & Primarybufferpanel (Mad Max: Fury Road, Furiosa/Max, Furiosa/Ace, Everyone & Healthy Coping Mechanisms)

“'Real isn’t how you are made’” Gilly said with the air of a quote, of a Remembering, “'It’s a thing that happens to you.’”

Rotor closed his eyes in a long blink, “A thing that hurts, innit it right?”

“Sometimes,” Gilly agreed, squeezing his hand, “That’s life though, when you are Real. We all become it bit by bit. But it doesn’t happen if you’re not strong, if you’re not soft, if you’re not sturdy.”

“ But how can y'be all of those at once ?” he wheezed out. It’s getting hard to catch his breath.

“You are all that right now, aren’t you?” Gilly asked him with piercing eyes, “No one else of all these Boys has had the strength to ask for me. And I will Witness you as I have kept all those of my sisters who’ve fallen these past days.”

This series is not always easy, it doesn’t shy away from the hard or the dark or the painful, but it is always worth reading.

The Unspoken Truth by Nonymos (MCU, Clint/Loki)

Barton glared at him like he was trying to decide whether he was being mocked or not, but the next second, his shoulders slumped. Loki was familiar with the feeling – that dreadful feeling of discovering something repulsive in one's own nature.

And then, he waited. He waited for Barton to think and connect the dots, to realize that an obvious solution was standing just before him, to remember how he had felt when waking up tied down, or being forced to drink down the water. The demi-god just stood there, hoping – almost praying for the first time in his life – that his enemy would look up at him with something else than hatred in his eyes.

No one writes kink quite like Nonymos writes kink, and this series is the perfect encapsulation of that.

The Stone Gryphon by rthstewart (Narnia, primarily Gen)

"Tools!" Richard was so shocked he was near speechless. He sat down heavily on the bench and began writing frantically in that strange code. "You are saying that you have observed ordinary crows use tools? Peter, that is… remarkable."

"Well, I've seen Beavers use fishing tackle and sewing machines, so it didn't seem that unusual at the time."

I’m not going to lie, this may not be to everyone’s taste. But, amateur theologian, lover of weird animal facts, and history nerd that I am, there are very few fics more exactly tailored to my interests.

Republic of Heaven Community Radio by ErinPtah (WtNV x His Dark Materials, Cecil/Carlos)

The greeting catches both her and Carlos off-guard. It's not wrong to talk directly to another person's daemon, but it's still a little weird. "Likewise," she stammers.

They're both waiting for the obvious next step, which is for Cecil to introduce his daemon. The fact that Carlos hasn't spotted her yet is understandable — a big community gathering in a small space, you get plenty of daemons breaking away from their humans to socialize directly with each other. Any of the dozen animal shapes currently within ten feet of them could be Cecil's. If his daemon has an unusually high range, there are even more possibilities.

What Cecil says instead is, "If you ever have any important experimental-theology news that you need to share with the town, call me any time! Everyone listens to my show." There's a touch of what Carlos hopes is nothing more sinister than smugness when he adds, "Everyone."

He steps out of the way to let someone else interrogate Carlos, and vanishes into the crowd. Carlos doesn't get a chance to see what daemon he leaves with.

This may be the most carefully thought out crossover I’ve ever read, and I’m a little in awe of ErinPtah’s skills.

The Soul in the Machine by missdreawrites & Troodon (Dishonoured, Corvo/Outsider)

“... Outsider?” Corvo asked, sitting down on the filthy floor. “In the published list of the people who died of the Plague… how many were registered Augments?”

“Son of a bitch, ” Corvo swore with feeling. “This is… look at this waste. We aren't even people to them, are we?” He looked down at the body next to him. “And I killed the one person who could help. I did this. I doomed an entire people to plague, and murder and…”

The cyberpunk Dishonoured AU I desperately wish I’d thought of, because it works so very well.

In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury) by scifigrl47 (MCU, Steve/Tony)

“Do you know what the difference between a villain and a super villain is, Stark?” Coulson said, leaning his palms on the tabletop, looming over everything like a very snappily dressed gargoyle.

“Style?” Tony asked, pointing both index fingers in Coulson's direction like the gunslinger that he was. He added a wide grin to the gesture, but Coulson didn't seem to notice.

“A villain has a giant mass of robotic vacuum cleaners that he can sic on his enemies. A super villain gives them the ability to fly.”

“In my defense, I do not actually remember installing repulsor technology in the Roombas,” Tony said, choosing his words carefully. It had been a working theory, sure, but he still wasn't quite sure when he implemented it. Maybe sometime on Tuesday night... That one was a blur. “It was a very long couple of days. So I was as surprised by that as everyone else.”

This doesn’t really count as a rec, since everyone in the fandom has read it already, but it really wouldn’t be fair to draw up a ‘best of the 2010s’ list and not include this.

A Great and Gruesome Height by mokuyoubi (Hannibal, Will/Hannibal)

Bedelia lashes out but Will is quicker. He grabs her wrist, pressing hard between the delicate bones with his thumb, until she makes a soft noise of distress and drops the fork.

Hannibal purses his lips and leans in close to her ear. “Now that is disappointing,” he whispers, and Bedelia has the good sense to be afraid with that mouth so near her skin. He inhales her scent deeply and straightens. “I thought you and I were beyond such petty jabs.”

“Were it not for the fact that you required medical attention, I have no doubt I would have met a similarly crass ending at the hands of your pet,” she says, lip curling in disgust.

Hannibal smiles serenely and says, “Will is a creature entirely of his own making. It is not to me to guide his hand. Merely to share in the sublime perfection of his vision, when he allows it.”

There are many dark!Will stories out there, and most of them are a lot of fun, but few are quite at believable as this one.

#top 10 list #top 10 fic #stony #hannigram #symbrock #cablepool #reed900 #cecilos #frosthawk #fic recs

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