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tirorah · 3 years

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Road to Berlin’s Episode 12 Is a Spectacular Finish to a Spectacular Show

It was damn good!

After the slightly tame setup Episode 11 provided, it fell to Episode 12 to deliver the payoff not just to the finale that Episode 10 started, but also to wrap up the overarching story of the entire season. And oh boy, did it do just that!

First, let’s talk about our favorite looming antagonists with barely any world-building, the Neuroi! Well, they once again upped the creepy factor by replicating World Capital Germania. How they managed to do this is still unclear, as the city never left the planning stage; it truly does seem like the Neuroi don’t just consume for sustenance or whatever, but also that they can replicate whatever they find in the territory they conquer. Of course, none of this matters much to the story at hand, but it does give us a tiny bit of world-building on them, and it would also explain some of the more bizarre Neuroi designs. Do you remember the Cube Neuroi? I do.

I was also intrigued by this former emperor of Karlsland who designed the plans for Germania. Whoever they were, they were forced to step down, but this raises all kinds of questions. When did this happen? How long has Emperor Frederick IV been in power? What does the mere existence of these plans imply about Karlsland’s history?

By the by, the building that was never in the plans seems to resemble the Great Hall, which was, in fact, shelved due to the start of WW2. Strike Witches occasionally gets some stuff hilariously wrong, but much of the research definitely seems on the money.

See, as far as I know, Nazism doesn’t exist in Karlsland. (Actually, that’d be pretty awkward for Karlsland, with the 501st’s logo being the way it is...) Judea was wiped out by Neuroi in the year 29; this, and several other differences in the world’s history, produced a different world than the one we know. (See the Strike Witches Historical Timeline for more information.) Culturally, Karlsland is far more akin to Imperial Germany, but transplanted into the 1940s and borrowing some iconography and designs.

There WAS tension in Europe before the Neuroi showed up and forced everyone to unite against a common enemy; would that have been enough incentive to create these plans, as well as structures like the Flak Tower? I hope we’ll find out someday. Either way, the fact the Neuroi created such an intricate city-shaped structure based on nothing but plans on paper is pretty terrifying. What else did the overrun countries have lying around when they were invaded?

Right, well, enough about the ancillary stuff. Let’s talk characters!

And cutting right to the chase: Shizuka definitively earned her spot on the team this episode. Yes, I know she technically earned it in the Movie at the earliest, and I guess Episode 10 at the latest. But Episode 10 still left me a bit wanting, as it was part of the process of building up to Shizuka’s turning point as a character. But now we reached that moment at long last, and it was everything I’d hoped to see.

First, RtB shows us how far she’s come. Her determination is nothing short of epic; she’s grown so much since her first engagement in the Movie, and nowhere is that more obvious than here. She lands a difficult shot on the bomb while flying a Striker her magic can’t handle, to the point where it’s physically hurting her to breathe. And then, she sees Yoshika trapped down below, and she finally passes the point of no return.

For the entire season, Shizuka’s been utterly obedient when it came to orders. As soon as someone dropped that o-word, she’d stop whatever action she was entertaining and went along with what she was told, even if it didn’t sit entirely well with her at times. She still does that at first, actually. But then, she finally sees something she can’t walk away from, and she decides to risk her own life to protect the girl who always throws herself into danger for others.

She saves Yoshika’s life, and even though she’s definitely not sounding well, she then takes up the fight in her friend’s defense without a single ounce of hesitation. Her switch from defense to offense is almost explosive; no talking, no checking on Yoshika, just straight-up switching on a dime. And her valiant stand is successful!

Until this happens, and once again I have to commend everyone involved in RtB on the gravity of this scene. Shizuka’s injury is devastating. The cinematography is chilling and incredibly well done: the way the beam punches through the profile shot of her body; how the beam takes all the colors with it as it leaves the screen, monochrome swiftly washing over the scene in its wake, Shizuka already pale; the trails of blood; the dilated eyes. They don’t show her crash, but it sounds awful. And then there’s the blood, positively pouring out of the hole in her body, spilling out until it even reaches Yoshika’s knees, a symbol for Yoshika failing to save her.

As the scene dragged on and Yoshika became increasingly frantic, fear slowly trickled into me again. Strike Witches doesn’t kill characters, but Shizuka was dying for sure. I was still holding on to the hope that everything would turn out okay, but there didn’t seem to be any way out, and that was a gut-punch and a half. It was seriously upsetting, and in a good way: that moment when you realize you do, in fact, care about a character whose presence you’ve questioned for the entire season.

I’d never been so happy to see a Deus Ex Yoshika hit the screen.

Now, I'm not the biggest fan of Yoshika. I do like her as a concept: the pacifist medic thrown into war. But I still feel like Yoshika’s character leans too much on her desire to protect people. It worked well at first, especially when her new companions needed someone to give them hope, but while quite a few characters showed growth as time went on, Yoshika’s always remained relatively static. And RtB’s excellent character writing has only emphasized this for me.

That’s not to say she hasn’t grown into a badass though, because she has! This episode had her at her craziest yet, leveraging the power of her grief to jump-start her magic back to normal levels. And with the fine magic control she’s been forced to work on all season, she can finally let loose and do some incredible things!

A giant shield? Try more than one! Who needs a gun when you can use your magic as a battering ram? (Trude would be so proud!) And sure, just pump so much power into your Striker that you overtake the escaping Bell-type Neuroi holding Wolf! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Yoshika attained her final form of hax, and it was glorious.

Still, it was clear that battle, short as it was, took a toll on her. This means she’s not exactly all-powerful; it just so happens that she has some very powerful genes, and the right motivation to use them.

Anyway, it was to be expected that Yoshika and Shizuka would hog the spotlight for a bit in this final episode, and that’s all good. The others mostly filled their usual roles, but we did get some great character moments from them!

Let’s start with something adorable: Minna using Sanya as a portable telephone, and Sanya being entirely stoic about it. I was laughing so much, and even more so when Eila saw it happen!

“GYAAH!”

I also liked it when Eila and Sanya were so surprised at seeing so many Neuroi swarms that Sanya said this absolutely needless thing:

You know the shit’s hit the fan when Sanya, of all people, does this.

Oh, and let’s not forget: it was Eila and Sanya who finished off the dome! I’m not sure why everyone else decided to just fly off, but these two have their backs.

Shirley and Lucchini were a solid team. I liked how each of their personalities shone through in their mannerisms and dialogue, with Shirley being calm, perceptive and responsible, as well as looking out for Lucchini. She also made a good guess at Wolf’s hiding place.

Lucchini, meanwhile, was her adorable hyper self, chafing at the narrow tunnels which prevented her from bouncing around, and later, gleefully taking out one Neuroi tower, only to realize she was shooting at the wrong thing, and being utterly unconcerned as she switched targets. Nyroom! She’s such a playful kid.

I also really liked it when Wolf was running away, and Lucchini immediately looked to Shirley to chase it, but Shirley realized she couldn’t catch it from that distance. She’s come to understand her limits over the course of the series, which pairs well with her increased sense of responsibility in RtB.

Lynne and Perrine were once again the support squad, looking out for Shizuka and later on being quite attuned to anything regarding Yoshika. Unfortunately, they didn’t do much else of note, but that’s been a bit of a pattern for them since Episode 8. Either way, I’ll save my thoughts on that for the full season review. (Yes, I’m going to rant about the season in its entirety next. No one is surprised.)

Erica mostly fell into the same support role as Lynne and Perrine this episode, but she did make the highly useful observation of the anomaly in Germania: the big central building that hadn’t been in the plans. And of course, she was one of the determined Karlslander Witches who chased Wolf at the end, limits be damned.

Hey, while we’re on this pic: I’m pretty sure Mio has spent more time with Ursula than with Minna this season. How crazy is that?!

Mio was also here. I’m sad that we didn’t get a Mio Laugh, not even one at the end. I did enjoy how concerned she was about Shizuka’s well-being though; Mio is like Trude in that she’s quite married to her job (she’s even worse about that than Trude), and so her personal feelings can sometimes end up left behind. But she was still doing everything she could to help her friends, and she was genuinely terrified when she realized Shizuka was about to do something dangerous.

Before I forget, I even have to give a slight nod to Patton. He was good in this episode! Even though he loaded up his revolver, he never actually ended up using it; instead, he was a good supporting character. Even his “GODDAMU” was endearing!

Last but certainly not least, Minna and Trude were, again, excellent. I really loved how they worked together this episode: forming a united front when they told Shizuka she had to stay behind (like two parents telling their new kid to do what’s best for her, ha), and Minna using her reasoning and magic to navigate them through the tunnels while Trude smashed stuff.

Ah yes, Trude. Lovely, lovely Trude. When I wrote about Episode 11, I expressed bewilderment at her sudden suggestion of using the underground tunnels. How did she come by this information? Why did Minna not know? But Episode 12 had my back; Erica asked her about it almost immediately, and as it turned out, Trude had the most adorable reason of all time OMG:

All is forgiven, show. All is forgiven. The fact Trude learned everything about a subway system in a city Chris never even lived in, just to engage with her sister’s interests, is so downright cute and awesome that my love for her has once again increased to previously unimaginable levels. And she memorized it all so damn well that she planned out an entire route into the dome for them! This is the best thing ever!

I was also so, so happy for Minna at the end! In previous seasons, it was always Yoshika who dealt the final blow to their antagonist, but here, Yoshika only prevented Wolf from running away. It was Trude and Erica who pierced its defenses, and it was Minna who went in for the kill. Not only is this amazingly cathartic for her, it’s also something Minna 100% earned in this season. Episode 9 did so well in showing us how badly Minna wanted this, to secure victory for her girls and for herself, to the point where she disregarded her own views on self-sacrifice. And now here she was, maybe in the last sortie of her career, and she received the sweetest reward of all.

...Except the promised coffee in Berlin, which we never got! But that’s okay; this episode already did so much in its runtime, I can’t fault it for not showing us something that would take some time to happen.

Instead, we got something equally satisfying, and something I loved about the ending: it showed us everyone working hard to rebuild Berlin after the battle. RtB has been so good at details, at continuity and consequences, and here, we see that life moves on. Berlin is in ruins, and it’s going to take a lot of elbow grease to get it and the rest of northern Karlsland back into shape. But with people returning and the 501st doing everything they can to help, reconstruction will surely succeed.

And Perrine will one day conquer the world with her army of adopted children!

Life also moved on in a different way. As it turned out (or maybe I just forgot about this?), Wolf was one of two hives in Karlsland. The other one is located somewhere in the south, and thus, the 501st continues their battle for peace. I wonder if this means we’ll get more 501st content down the line? It hasn’t been ruled out, and it’d be amazing to see where these girls go next. (I demand more coffee scenes!)

#strike witches #road to berlin #funnily enough: there's one continuity error in this episode #RtB's usually so good at preventing this (except when that Neuroi tried to ram Lucchini in Episode 4)#anyway: when Trude punches through the wall into the dome's underbelly she's only carrying one gun #but no one else is carrying it for her #and pretty soon afterward she has two guns again #maybe her butt really is a pocket dimension!

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand.

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.”

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along.

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group.

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down.

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear.

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest.

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray.

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.”

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

#danny phantom #another flash is the pan DP fic #just something about Danny being so tired (also ODed on Nyquil) that he just misses his ghost sense going off #and the ghosts being there and without all the threats of death #just kind of hanging around #looking over him curiously snooping #how often do they get to like see him up close?#he's a freak! lets look him over also stack shit on his head!#and the weird space where you just cant remember being human and what sleeping is like but also being so envious that you cant do it anymore #((also just a note that Danny had all his enemies in his room and slept soundly but woke up in a jolt when his parents got home))#((take that as you will))

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taechaos · 3 years

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Idea series oc sneaking Tae in the house after he had big fight with his father about something (your choice if it's smutty or fluff or angsty) with a peek of a vurberable Tae? Honestly i think he would change the topic as soon as he started it and prob with sex.

Anyway I'm really interest in their family dynamic since I remember don't know if it was in part one or two that you mention they have really religious parents? And seeing how harsh their dad is with Taehyung it have me wondering how is his relationship with the mother and ocs with both parents, despite everything the seem really distant from their kids, maybe thats why Tae and YN find comfort in each other. OC is the first real bond Tae made with someone so maybe that's the reason of his fear of being replaced and his obsession with her, and ocs mother probably don't pay that much attention to her so that's why even after the incident she still want him to be there. At this point I'm just rambling I'm sorry. And this ask is all over the place, started with a request and ended questioning characters life 💀💀. Sorry hehe.

when i read this yesterday i was literally blown away by this like hOLY shit your analysis is so in-depth at first i was like damn do my characters have more than oNE DIMENSION?? WHICH IS RLY FLATTERING BUT I THINK ITS JUST UR WORDS THAT MADE ME SOUND SMART 💀💀💀 the ending is chef's kiss tho made me bust a lung SHFJJD thank you so much for taking the time to write this its honestly so fucking amazing. hopefully u can see more of their family dynamic in this drabble :)

Rays of sunlight slither through the cracks in the blinds of the living room, allowing Taehyung's father enough light to scan the newspaper he holds in his hand, with the musical, happy chirping of mockingbirds filling in the silence. All of these beautiful signs of nature and peaceful rotation of the earth makes Taehyung tense up even more.

The moment he got back home from buying drugs, his father greeted him in monotone with a, "would you sit with me for a moment?" and he hasn't spoken since. The zipperbag in his pocket crinkles every time he shifts in his seat, making him cringe momentarily before he starts nervously fidgeting again.

This is so awkward and yet equivalent to hearing: we need to talk. God, why is he so silent?

Clearing his throat, Taehyung stands just as his father flips a page with a lick of his thumb. "I'm going to my room really quick."

"No."

"Oh." When will his step-mother return? She's his only hope as he sits down while avoiding looking at his father, whose gaze is set on the black and white printed pages.

It's only a minute later when he talks without diverting his gaze.

"Your sister is in her room, researching her major to get a headstart on a typical syllabus."

"Smart," he comments with disinterest and nibbles on his upper lip.

"Taehyung, how was your attendance in college?" he folds the newspaper and curiously peeks at his son, who is doing a poor job at hiding his nerves.

"It was alright–"

"Lying is a sin, son," his movements are aristocratic when he leans his chin on his fist. "Don't lie."

"I'm not," he stammers and his eyes flicker, "it was bad at the beginning of the year, but I fixed it."

His father pinches the bridge of nose where his frames lie. "I love your sister, Taehyung," he sighs and takes off his glasses, "I want her to do well. I've given up on you, but her? She can accomplish great things if you're not there to influence her. You're a bad influence. Are you following me?"

Taehyung nods dumbly with a racing heart before registering his words and shaking his head. "What?" he blurts. "I used to help her with her homework all the time–"

"You were home once every month."

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't see her," he coldly says. That's not entirely accurate, but it is true that he saw you more than he saw his parents before he started living here again. For you.

His father is taken aback, offended as he scoffs, "You avoided me and your mother, and yet have the face to stay in our home?" He stands up and passes the coffee table that was Taehyung's only barrier to hover over him with distance. "I expected so much more from you, but you can't even do the bare minimum. An adult without a stable job, respectable girlfriend, and embarrassing grades. I'm ashamed to have raised such a boy, for I can't even call you a man."

Taehyung abruptly stands but he continues, "If you can't even pay rent, go back to that landfill you came from."

"I have to pay rent to live with my family?" He's livid and his hands shake by his sides; they're taking you away from him because what? He isn't the son they wanted him to be?

"You've made it clear that the only thing keeping you here is my daughter," he blindly points at the closed door of your room, "and you will have to try much harder to see her again. Get your life together, and you can come back."

Taehyung's face is heated with anger from the injustice. "What the fuck?! This is such bullshit; you're kicking me out?"

His father frowns at his language, growling, "Taehyung! I will not let you drag her down that path with you. When you stop destroying everything you touch, I'll gladly let you live here."

Destroy? He hasn't done any harm to anyone—especially not you. He knows he's self-destructive, but it doesn't extend to his environment. If he fails, it's his failure, but his father takes it personally instead of encouraging him to do better.

The importance of reputation and success in this family enrages him; he's aware that he's not much of an affectionate person either, but a little love wouldn't hurt to witness in the household.

Instead of defending himself or speaking his mind, he obliges bitterly.

"You need to get laid," are his last words before he slams the door and opens the zipper bag to pop a pill. Ecstasy isn't so fun when you're not around, but he can use the distraction. It's been a bad day.

He flips off a stray cat idling around the garden before casually leaving the property.

—————

Studying isn't fun for you, never has been, never will be. Though you hate every second of it, it does give you something to do to make time pass faster. You've been tutoring yourself about things you'll learn sooner or later anyway, but you guess it doesn't hurt to have to study less when the time comes.

You check the time. It's approaching night at 9 PM, and your father wouldn't protest against a break now, hopefully. He only suggested that you should start studying, but you know what his suggestions really mean.

Do it, or get shamed into doing it with subtle glances.

As if that isn't enough, he constantly checked up on you throughout the day. He wasn't exactly giving you a choice, which irks you.

But that's done and over with, and there's a more pressing matter at hand: where is Taehyung? You heard bits and pieces of the argument, but you couldn't get the whole scoop. You worry he's going to go back to his old habits of never being here, rarely seeing you. He would've been hanging out with you six hours ago out of routine... It can't just be you being clingy. Something happened.

You: are you coming home tonight?

The response takes a few minutes.

taehyung: nop

taehyung: but i am coming to ur room

taehyung: cuz ik u cant sleep without me 😖

You: actually the opposite but ok lol

You: when are you coming

taehyung: whenever u want uwu

You: uwu...?

You: just come before it gets too late

—————

So that was a lie. It's 1 AM and still no word from Taehyung. Okay, maybe you're just being clingy now, but it's unlike him not to be clingy. Maybe he wanted to cool off for a long time after his tak with your step-dad, or simply wanted to hang out with his friends after spending all of his time with you.

That makes sense. What doesn't is the slide of your window and shuffling of your curtains. You instantly sit up in your bed and clutch your blanket closer. You watch a silhouette enter your room as you pick up your limp, your tense muscles relaxing only when you recognize the intruder. You put down the lamp with a click of your tongue, ignoring the relief in your pounding heart.

"Hey," he stupidly grins at you. He looks disheveled, clothes untucked and wrinkled, and from the little light you have, you can see his redshot eyes.

"There's also the door," you remark sassily. "Are you um... high?"

He shrugs and crawls in your bed, dismissive as usual. You both make an effort to keep your voices quiet.

"I talked to mom earlier," you ease into the discussion until he butts in.

"That's great."

You roll your eyes and prop an elbow to look down at him. His head lies on his hands while staring at you, mood strangely upbeat. He's definitely high.

"She was a little sad about something, and I know it involves you. I heard you talking to–" You're interrupted with a lingering peck, a little rough in its force but not unwelcomed.

"I've missed kissing you. Shouldn't you be asleep, by the way?"

Recovering from the unexpected attack, you reply, "It's not that late. I don't have to wake up early."

"You shouldn't ruin your sleep schedule," he tucks a hair strand behind your ear without taking his eyes off of you. "Staying up is hard to stop once you start."

"Yeah, you're a great example," you joke with a quiet giggle. Whispering with him feels intimate in a heart fluttering way. His heart pangs with a feeling he can't put a finger on. "You didn't answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Don't play dumb, I'm really curious. What happened with dad?"

"A lot of things happen with dad," he shrugs, "sometimes we play catch–"

"Taehyung," you give him a pointed look, and he giggles.

"You're right, he'd never play catch with me." He groans as he stretches in your bed before trapping you with his arms on either side of you in one motion. You don't know what he's trying to do, but you watch him above you in amusement. "No offence, but when is your mom not sad when my dad is around?" he laughs with a huff.

"That's rude, Tae," you remark seriously, "she's happy when you're around."

Taehyung's smile falters like yours, his happy guise crumbling when he says, "Are you?"

"Pfft," you roll your eyes, "What do you think? I was up waiting for you."

Ah. That's not a very good influence.

"I'm here now," he whispers, "go to sleep. It's okay, I won't do anything, I know you worked hard today."

You agree with a yawn and nod. But even in your sleepy state, you can read the room—Taehyung is especially attentive of his tone and volume aside from being so tense. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in and on ecstasy," he falls back on his former spot, "I can't not be alright."

"Taehyung, I haven't seen you all day–"

"Yeah, because I didn't want to be here," he looks at you dead in the eye, "and I don't want you to be here."

You blink rapidly, slightly shaking your head in confusion, "What are you saying?"

"Move in with me."

He's met with cold silence, so he persuades persistently, "Don't you want to get away from here? You'll have so much more freedom with me, and I can help you with your assignments and everything. It'll be perfect."

"I— do you... Where?" Taehyung is high and he doesn't know what he's saying is what you believe because this is so out of the blue, so irrational, but he describes it like it's utopia; you are not completely against the idea.

"I have enough money from drug dealing to rent an apartment, and you can tell dad that you want to move out to be like an adult or whatever, that you have a stable job, without mentioning me," he rambles, and his dilated pupils are more noticeable up close; it slightly puts you off.

"Wh-what about mom?"

He scoffs, "If she wants out, she can get her second divorce. Don't worry about them; after all, they're apparently the only real adults here," he relates back to not being worthy of being called a man. You shift away from him little by little. "Just trust me."

The phrase is triggering for you, a reminder of the time you were tricked into trusting him moments before your trauma. "We'll talk about this when you're sober," you meekly say, avoiding eye contact.

A wicked smile grows on his face, "I can't wait, princess."

#idea tae #*cue big time rush theme*#just gotta say this one last time #the analysis was so well written #its honestly a sight for sore eyes 😫

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hystericalcherries · 3 years

Text

aeon (6/6)

Pairing: Keith/Lance Words: 10.5k Rating: M Warnings: mild violence Tags: Post-Season/Series 07, quantum abyss, Flashbacks, Flashforwards, Prophetic Visions, Visions in dreams, Mind Control, Dimension Travel, Boys Being Boys, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Gay Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron) when the going gets tough... the tough write fix-it fics, Allura (Voltron) Lives, because fuck you jds and lm

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Summary:

Keith does not leave the quantum abyss untouched.

“Home can be anything, you know,” Lance says in lieu of a conversation starter.

Slivers of moonlight filter through the blinds above their heads, casting lines of truth across the sheets. Lance tilts his head forward and a band slides over his eyes, catching the ocean in them and drawing Keith into their rolling tides. And as distracted as he is, he doesn't put up a fight when a hand clasps his own, reeling them heartward.

“Home is just something you can come back to.” His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of a nightshirt, the v-neckline falling loose to reveal a sharp collarbone, and Keith feels his breath hitching. “Something that keeps you grounded.”

READ IT ON AO3

The day of the Alliance Feast comes and Keith finds himself sulking in a corner as he watches an alien chat Lance up.

Allura had stuffed them all in Altean formal wear, color-coded and high-collared, capes draped tastefully across their shoulders. The material of the suits are surprisingly breathable despite all its excess, stretching and bunching up in just the right places to cut them all into impressive figures. The princess had been very particular in how she wanted them all to look and had forced herself into more than one fitting room back at the Garrison; Shiro’s hair is slicked back, Hunk’s headband folded into the pocket of his jacket, Keith’s loose ponytail tied with a red ribbon, Lance’s waist adorned by a silver chain and Pidge’s glasses exchanged for a sleeker pair. If the star-eyed looks they’ve been receiving ever since they landed on New Altea is anything to go by then she must have succeeded.

Lance, Keith must admit, looks particularly dashing. His suit makes his shoulders look broader and it’s a problem. More so because it’s obvious that the red paladin isn’t the only one to take notice, more than one individual coming forward to introduce themselves to the friendliest member of Voltron.

Keith glares.

The alien doesn't take the hint and keeps talking, going so far as to place one of their four hands on the blue paladin’s upper arm when they laugh. Lance looks pleased.

“You should go talk to him.”

A crick forms in his neck when he jerks to attention at Allura’s voice. She fills up the once empty space next to him, having somehow snuck up on him, wearing low heels and a pale pink dress; she looks the epitome of aristocratic, with jewels dripping across her collarbone and dangling from her ears. His heart jumps at her words when they finally register, unable to help the quick glance he sends to the tables. “No,” he says immediately, turning away when he catches the unilu delegate peering at him from over the blue paladin’s shoulder. “He looks fine where he is. I don’t want to butt in.”

The princess frowns, obviously displeased at his reluctance. She crosses her arms and juts out a hip in a move that’s far too Keith-ish in nature for his liking. “You know, Lance loves to dance and—”

“Awesome,” Keith grouses.

Allura glares. “—and I’m sure he would say yes to one if someone asked.”

There’s no denying that the blue paladin has had no shortage of dance partners; ever since the band had started playing the boy had been on and off the dancefloor, spinning past him with someone new every few minutes. Some bitterness sneaks into his tone when he says, “I’ve noticed.”

“Now that’s not fair. You’ve had all evening to make your move. Don’t be upset that others are doing what you can’t.”

The words sting and Keith isn’t quick enough to hide it.

Allura’s expressions soften and he bristles a bit, less at the thought of being the recipient of someone’s pity and more knowing that he’s actively doing everything to deserve it. “Keith,” she says, and it’s soft and encouraging. “You are one of the most courageous people I know and you’ve faced things far more imposing than this.” She ducks her head to look him in the face. “It’s just Lance.”

“I know,” he says eventually, making a visible effort to relax. He sighs. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up,” she assures, touching his arm. “Lance is a fellow paladin and, more importantly, your friend. You’ve been through much together and nothing could break the bond you have because of it.” She pauses, carefully manicured hands digging into his sleeve. “And if he’s the one from those visions of yours then talking to him would be the first step towards the rest of your life.”

He really regrets telling her about the flashes.

“It’s him, isn’t it.” It’s more of a fact than a question and Keith can’t even conjure up the energy to deny it.

Lance laughs again.

At his silence, Allura gasps. “I knew it! Oh! How romantic! It’s just like those books Hunk recommended to me, but better because—well, this is real, isn’t it?” Her hands clap together excitedly. “To think, the history you share is just a precursor of what is to come. It must be destiny!”

“Allura,” he warns.

“If he is from the visions, then you mustn’t just talk to him. You have to dance with Lance too! Keith, you absolutely must!”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“And why not?”

“Because, well, we’re not… it’s complicated. Plus, I don’t really dance.”

Allura tuts at him, booping him on the nose as she takes on a tone of one talking to an ignorant toddler. “Not with that attitude, you don’t. Come on. It will be fun.”

“And what if I don’t wanna have fun?”

The princess purses her lips and she tugs at his sleeve impatiently. He resists when she makes a move to drag him away from his corner, twisting away from her with a scowl. Knowing of her strength and how it outmatches his by miles, he karate chops her other hand when it reaches out for him. She gasps, offended at his defiance, and then redoubles her efforts.

“Why must you be so difficult?” she growls, circlet slipping over one pointed ear as she shoves herself in his space. Her elbow digs uncomfortably in his gut as her other hand fumbles for the wrist of his hand. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Allura, I swear—”

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”

The two freeze and it’s almost comical, getting caught like this—the red paladin and the altean princess, important figures in their own right, mid-scuffle and cursing at each other—yet Keith doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t laugh because while they had been arguing, a figure had snuck up on them. A figure with very broad shoulders.

Allura recovers first. “Lance!”

The boy belonging to the name smiles. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Of course!” Allura gushes, letting go of Keith and all but pushing him at the blue paladin regardless of the fact that he hadn’t specified who he wanted to dance with. She takes a moment to fix her appearance, smoothing down hair and adjusting her dress, looking haughty. “I’ve gotta find Coran and make sure he’s not overdoing it on the nunvill, so you boys enjoy yourselves.”

And with that, she leaves. Leaves Keith in the middle of a party with his bonafide first and only crush.

He looks up and meets Lance’s eyes. It’s been months since he came back from the abyss and the half inch he had over the other boy is gone now, making them eye level. He knows neither of them are done growing and their heights will continue to change but Keith finds that he likes it this way for now.

“So,” Lance starts, biting his lip. “Dance?”

A quick look across the hall and his stomach flutters nervously. “I’ve never really…”

But Lance is already moving right along, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the dancefloor. Dazed, Keith lets it happen, focus torn between their clasped hands and the back of the other’s head. The crowd parts easily for them, curious looks and whispers following at their heels only to be hastily hidden when he glances away from the pinking ears of his partner. Lance must be determined to ignore their audience, expertly spinning Keith around to face him and guiding their bodies in a starting position.

The music is already in full swing and Lance takes a step to match that of the other dancers, gently tugging Keith along in a strange mix of a waltz and shuffle, confident where he is stiff.

After maybe a half a minute where they steadily avoided each other’s eye, Keith speaks up. “Is this something we do now? Dance.”

Blue eyes flicker past his face and he doesn't have to imagine the silent conversation that's happening over his shoulder. Lightning quick he looks behind him, but, much to his chagrin, Hunk has already schooled his expression from where he sits at one of the many tables and is staring back at him with all too innocent eyes.

Lance clears his throat and Keith turns back to a nervous smile. “Yeah, I thought we could try it out… See how you—er, we feel about it.”

There must have been something in the drink he had earlier of his because Keith can feel himself melting.

“It’s nice,” he says, watching as the other boy’s smile turns into something more lighthearted. “I’m not very good but, yeah, it’s… it’s nice.”

Eyes twinkle in the warm light. “I think it’s nice too.”

There’s a bit of a hitch in the music and Keith spies a few of the musicians being switched out, exchanging string instruments for ones that look like a cross between trumpets and accordions. It must be getting later in the evening because some of the dancers leave, replaced by a much younger crowd. He spots a few familiar faces, both humans—Atlas technicians, old classmates, Garrison faculty—and aliens—bounty hunters, altean colonists, royal dignitaries—all unabashedly shedding their professional appearance in exchange for a good time. The energy pulses upwards, pushing them closer together and causing the weird rumbling in Keith’s chest to give way to butterflies, transparent wings brushing along the inside of his ribs in a way that has his heart thumping madly.

When the song increases in tempo Keith accidentally steps on Lance’s foot. He cringes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lance assures. ”Just lighten your steps and pretend it’s a training session. Move with me, not against me.”

Keith tries the step again and nearly trips over his own feet when he miscalculates how many times his partner would step back, causing a table of girls nearby to twitter with amusement at the sight of him. Lance doesn’t mock him for his clumsiness, just adjusts his hand so it presses a bit lower on his back; Keith feels the touch like a brand, barely catching onto the way his palm shifts in accordance to the next step.

It gives Keith something to focus on and, eventually, he falls in line with the steps.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Keith snorts and Lance grins, proud. “Not really—not like you anyway. How did you get to be so good?”

“I'm Cuban,” he says as a means of explanation, swinging his hips leisurely with the beat a drummer starts playing, obviously enjoying himself. It’s… distracting. Especially when the song changes to something with more bass and he lines their bodies together, starting up a heavy sway that Keith falls into after the initial jerk of surprise. Then there’s a thigh fitting between his legs and Lance is letting go of one hip to guide his gloved hand to the small of his back, casual as can be as the boy rolls back into the touch.

“This is, um.” Keith takes in a shaky breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there are many opportunities for this out in the desert. You really missed out—the Garrison dances always ended up this way. Didn’t matter how many chaperones they assigned.” Lance’s voice is level with his ear, their cheeks brushing as they move to the music, causing goosebumps when he feels the contradictory smooth-roughness of the other’s freshly shaved skin. “But we’ll count this as making up for all the ones you missed. Better late than never, right?”

Breathing is difficult but Keith manages it, if only just. “Right.”

Lance makes a noncommittal hum, pressing closer to let a couple trip pass them. Keith watches them go from his view over Lance’s shoulder, only slightly scandalized when the shorter alien unabashedly slips a hand over their date’s backside. It causes his hand to twitch, the pad of his thumb finding the indent of his partner’s lower back through his suit. With a startling clarity, Keith realizes how far his hand has fallen and tenses, waiting for Lance to notice and take offense.

But nothing happens. No one comments on how close the two paladins have gotten, probably because they aren’t the only ones to do so. The dancefloor is a mesh of bodies, all moving to whatever dance they know and hiding them from the view of the spectators sitting at the tables. He’s not pushed away in disgust, nor is he laughed at. Instead, Lance drapes his free arm over Keith’s shoulder, smoothing down the baby hairs at the back of his neck.

It gives Keith the courage to glance over; he spies half-lidded eyes and a warm flush under golden skin. Enticed by the fluttery feeling low in his gut, he settles his remaining arm over the other’s bicep, just above the edge of his elbow-length gloves. A slow inhale, followed by an even slower exhale, and the pulse under his fingers jumps.

He’s never been held like this before, as if he was the beginning of an addictive end.

The song—the fifth they had danced to and Keith deliriously wonders where the time had gone—starts to come to a climax, and Lance stirs. He looks at the band, then the other dancers and then Keith. There’s something in his eyes and it’s like taking a deep breath before diving under, adrenaline-inducing, willing to be pulled wherever the current takes him. The moment builds like a cresting wave—higher and higher, curling with seafoam and impending desire—until Keith is sure that they're going to crash together, that he’s going to lean in closer and kiss him. Involuntarily, he slips his eyes closed.

“And now, the big finish!”

His eyes fly back open. "What—"

But Lance is already twisting them around and throwing himself backwards. And Keith has no choice but to hastily lean with him, biceps flexing as he tightens his grip around Lance’s waist and hastily puts pressure between his shoulder blades. The top of his head barely misses cracking against the floor. Still, Lance cackles like it’s great fun.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Lance says too loudly when they’re back to standing normally, clapping with the rest of the crowd as the band announces their fifteen minute break. The moment officially over. “I usually drop my partners when I try to dip them.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“Eh, you liked it.”

A little called out, Keith hunches his shoulders and scowls. “I did not.”

But Lance goes on like he didn’t say anything, giving him a million-watt smile. “We did pretty well, all things considered. Probably cause we make such a good team.”

And how is Keith supposed to keep things together when he goes and says things like that? All sincere and butterfly-inducing. “Yeah,” he tells the boy, feeling brave and scared and more than himself, making it so that the back of their hands brush. “We really are.”

After that the party winds down.

The crowds thin and people start saying their goodbyes, respectful salutes paving way for hearty handshakes and more than one inebriated embrace. There seems to be a line forming in front of Allura, everyone wanting a final word with the princess before the night is officially over; Keith merely gives a wave as he and Lance pass her by towards where Hunk and Pidge dally around the buffet table, thinking nothing of the quick smile she gives in return before looking at the diplomat talking to her, knowing that he’ll see her tomorrow at their usual movie night.

Hunk is polishing off his plate of what looks to be pigs in a blanket while Pidge shoves leftover hors d'oeuvres into her shoulder pack. “I’ve got to get this recipe,” the former is saying when the pair come within hearing distance, looking up at the sound of their footsteps and doing a triple take before not-so-subtlety nudging his smaller companion with his elbow. With both gazes trained on them, Hunk gives a too-innocent smile. “Looks like you guys had fun. How was the dancefloor?”

“Crowded,” Keith replies at the same time Lance says, “Cozy.”

The yellow paladin’s eyes flicker between them. “Okay, yeah. Well, we were gonna head out soon… Are, um, you guys gonna…”

“It is getting pretty late,” Lance agrees, leaning forward to steal the last bit of the food from Hunk’s plate before slipping around Keith and draping an arm across his shoulders. He pops the finger food into his mouth and makes a show of chewing loudly when Keith frowns. “You’re going back to the Atlas, right?” he asks him, oblivious or uncaring of the two pairs of eyes that dissect the entire interaction. “Do you think I could hitch a ride with you? I’m staying with Veronica tonight and I think she already left.”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Lance leans away far enough that he nearly topples the two of them over and Keith has to lightly brace his hand on the other’s waist to better balance them. “See you later, paladudes.”

They four exchange fist bumps and then the red and blue paladin are angling themselves towards the exit, Keith trying not to combust when their arms stay wrapped around each other. More than one eye sticks to them and even more bodies put themselves in front of them to give a deferential goodbye; Lance takes it in stride, giving a sincere wave here and an over-the-top wink there, and it more than makes up for Keith’s own stilted replies. He only blunders once and that’s when Shiro catches his eye over the brim of a champagne glass, smile smug and unbearable.

Finally, they make it to the building’s transport dock where the Black Lion sits docilely.

The forcefield dissipates before Keith even asks and there’s a low rumble in greeting when the pair walk up the ramp, which Lance reciprocates with a light pat to one of the wall panels before following Keith to the cockpit. Then it’s just a means of setting a course to the Atlas and watching the stars pass them by as the mechanical lion does the rest.

The Atlas is empty save for the night shift, all of whom pause in their work up in the control room to watch the Black Lion land and the two paladins that exit it make their way across the room. It is almost eerie how their footsteps sound like a military march in comparison to absolute quiet that reigns once the cabin pressurizer comes online but Keith doesn’t give himself any time to consider it, not when he has a preferable distraction walking alongside him. Lance fills in the silence easily, looking princely as he charms Keith with anecdotes of parties past, laughing alongside him as he recalls the time he had won the Winter Formal crown and the resulting awkward dance that had followed, set to an early century song that he attempts (and fails) to beatbox. It makes the trip up to the floor with their quarters all the more enjoyable and when it’s over, Keith wishes it wasn’t.

Lance flashes a smile at him. “Night, Samurai.”

He sighs in return. “Night, Sharpshooter.”

Then the boy is turning around, disappearing down the hallway with only one look over his shoulder. And Keith, not wanting to look more foolish than he already has by getting caught staring at the spot his crush had occupied, quickly unlocks his door and slips inside.

His mother is in the kitchen, slicing up something that looks like a blue tomato, and looks up when he lingers in the doorway. “You’re back,” she says neutrally, transferring the food to a serving platter and pointedly ignoring the cosmic wolf that watches her every move, drool starting to collect at the base of his largest molar. “How was the party?”

He shrugs. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?”

He shuffles away and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. His neck cranes back, giving him a perfect view of the ceiling tiles. There’s a scorch mark in the top-right corner from when Kosmo had mistaken one of Krolia’s blasters for a chew toy. He squints at it, thinking, and his mind instantly snags onto the phantom brush of thighs and the strum of an alien guitar. Mouth dry and more than a little embarrassed, he squeezes his eyes shut.

The couch dips slightly and then a clawed hand is stroking his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face and behind his ear. The gesture quells the loud noise in his chest and he lets his head dip to the side, heated cheek squished against the cool felt of the couch.

“It was maybe more than alright,” he finally answers. For some reason, it’s this admission that had him blushing and curling his toes in secondhand gratification. “I had fun, more fun than I thought I would have anyway.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She doesn’t ask, but he knows she wants to know. Better yet, he wants to tell her.

“Everyone was there.”

She hums and continues to comb through his hair.

“Shiro, Pidge and Hunk and Allura. Lance too.” A pause where he clears his throat, far from casual. “We danced.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it was—nice.”

They sit in silence for a bit and his mind lingers on the dance he had shared that evening. He plays it on loop, going over every detail until he could sketch it out on paper, framed and made all the more real. Eventually Krolia stops her grooming in favor of offering him a slice of the strange fruit; he takes it and plops it into his mouth without question, surprised at the sweet taste.

“It’s weird, feeling this way,” he says absently, grounded but with his head in the clouds. “Weird that this is where I am. That life’s like this now.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” she tells him with a hum and he would scoff at such a cliche saying if it weren’t for the way his mother says it so genuinely. “Sometimes, it takes a lifetime and a half to find your place in it. I’m glad you’ve found yours.”

The flashes start coming faster and—

—Lance’s warm hand in his as they walk through a line of stalls selling alien wares. Merchants offering gossamer scarfs the same shade as the rising sun and jewelry that shines like they’ve been plucked straight from the night sky. Gaggles of children running through the streets, laughing as they dodge through the crowds. An ornate dagger purchased and gifted—

—fingers gently rubbing a sticky substance over the stretch of his cheek while a voice drones on about the benefits of skincare—

—his shoulder leaned against a doorway as he watches Lance address a class full of recruits, eyes twinkling when they catch sight of him hidden in the shadows. The loud trill of a bell and the shuffle of children eager for lunch, tempered by the arms wrapped around his neck and the kiss bestowed on his cheek—

—the shudder that goes through him as they rock into each other, skin sweaty and breathes loud. Hands gripping his thighs and his teeth nipping at an exposed neck, leaving marks so the world would know who they belonged to, now and to the end. Words whispered in the dark just as stars burst across his vision—

—eyes connecting over a crowd, secretive and happy—

—Keith fumbling with the black box in his pocket as he paces their room, repeating the words he wants to say to the man that he loves, nervous and excited and everything that comes after—

—he never wants them to stop.

They are hanging out in Keith’s room three days after the ball, sitting on the floor and leaning against his bed as they enjoy each other’s presence. Between them, Kosmo rolls onto his back, expecting belly rubs now that they’re no longer distracted by the show they had been watching, ending credits rolling after twenty-three minutes of terrible storytelling and bad animation. Lance is talking with the assumption that Keith will listen, going on loudly about how his character in the show is the main protagonist while delivering pats to the space wolf.

And Keith is… distracted.

Distracted in a sense that he can’t focus—or rather, he can’t stop focusing. On the energetic hand gestures and the expressive emotions that flit across Lance’s face as he speaks, pausing intermittently in order to coo at Kosmo and ask his opinion on things, always answered with a happy pant and an excited tail wag that has the blue paladin nodding sagely before continuing. He focuses on the way he feels now, in this moment, content like he’s never felt before.

A wet tongue licks a stripe up Lance’s cheek and he rears back, half disgusted, half charmed, and Keith can’t keep quiet any longer. Just blurts out, “We should do something this weekend.”

His friend blinks owlishly. “What?”

There’s fire coursing through his veins, invigorating him. It gives him courage to continue, to make so that the flashes are no longer flashes but memories. “I said we should do something this weekend. Do something together.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The casualness of the answers makes him think that the boy doesn’t quite understand the request. Assumes what he’s asking is for something they’ve always done. They hang out all the time, yes, but this is different. He wants this to be different.

“No, I mean we should go out this weekend.” Keith sends him a certain look, waiting for Lance to catch on.

He doesn’t catch on. “Huh?”

Dark eyes roll toward the ceiling and Keith shakes his head, and there’s that something again and oh, it’s fondness—it’s a look of fondness quirking his lips.

“What I’m saying is…” He takes a quick moment to shift on his hip so that their knees are almost touching and, after a moment of consideration, Keith slides his hand down and over until the tips of their pinkies bump into each other. “We should go out this weekend, like go on a ride out to town. Whatever you want, really.”

Lance’s blinks once, twice, three times, and—there. Comprehension floods and it takes only half a second before a high pitched noise scratches out of the boy’s throat. His eyes are wide, comically so, and he stares at Keith, mouth parting in an eclipse of a red moon. Then, just as Keith is committing the image to memory, he snaps his mouth shut and visibly shakes himself. “O-okay, I see. You mean like a scouting mission, right? For any lingering drones out in the desert. Well, yeah, um, as long as it’s okay with Shiro—”

“No,” he quickly cuts off, partially frustrated at the gap in communication and partially embarrassed that they would need clearance for what he has in mind. “I meant—a ride together—as in, you and me. No mission. Just us… together.”

The boy swallows loudly and Keith tracks the moment involuntarily.

"Oh.”

A lapse follows, not uncomfortable, but full. Keith buzzes in the aftertaste of his impromptu proposition and holy hell, he just asked Lance out. They’ve still yet to talk about the ball and how they had danced all night, and, despite the looks they receive from their teammates, neither of them have been brave enough to breach the silent agreement of keeping whatever feelings they had to themselves. However, now everything threatens to burst. His heart finally catches up to his words, beating in overdrive as he waits for an answer. But Lance seems not to care for the nervousness pulsing in his veins or the butterflies fluttering in the base of his stomach because he keeps up the uncharacteristic silence. It remains that way for a solid thirty seconds, until, finally, Keith can't take it anymore.

He clears his throat. “So, is that a yes?”

Lance jerks to attention, looking caught. “I, uh, what?”

“Do you want to go?”

Something incredible happens then. It’s wild and previously unthinkable, but Lance blushes.

He blinks and his vision doubles, half of it going auburn in a wash of caribbean light. He is by the waterfront, the sound of crashing waves dissolving into background noise when compared to the breathy laugh that washes over his face. Darkened cheeks lift in a smile that crinkles eyes and Keith goes a bit red himself at the image. The flash indulges him in a scene of utter bliss; velvety sand and supple lips, parting against his own.

Without thought he leans in, chasing the moment not yet passed. It causes present Lance’s eyes to go wide and it’s nothing like the cool burn of his half lidded gaze on the beach, salt drying on his lashes and sun-born freckles prickling his cheeks.

“I—ah, um. I—I’ll go.”

“Yeah?”

Lance looks away and then back. His voice is the quietest he’s ever heard. Almost shy. “Yeah.”

And it really is that easy.

The days go by slow after that, drawling in an agonizing pace. Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. Nearly stagnant, Keith hangs under time’s dispassionate influence, watching the clock and willing it to move. It’s a blessing when it finally hits five o’clock on the following Saturday. He stops the pacing he had been doing for the past hour and checks his reflection for the sixth time in as many minutes, tucking and untucking his shirt and running a hand in his hair in an futile attempt to tame it. When the results only further his agitation he gives up, collecting his nerves to the best of his ability making his way out the door with the intention of a quiet getaway.

Which makes him startle when he runs into Romelle outside his door, hand raised and poised to knock. “Keith! I've been sent to retrieve you!” He sees her gaze flicker down to take in his outfit—his cleanest pair of jeans, a corded necklace with a hanging Marmora pendant, and a leather jacket so new that its tag is stuffed in his back pocket—and he stops himself from turning back around and locking himself in his closet till the end of time. “Dinner is almost ready and Coran has made the most spectacular—”

“Actually,” he interrupts, unable to maintain eye contact, “I’ve got other plans.”

Romelle opens her mouth, but Keith, knowing the girl’s knack for rambling, is already speeding through the hallway.

Unfortunately for him, the living room is not as empty as he had previously thought. The yellow and green paladin are sitting on the couch, surrounded by a hurricane of blankets and pillows, the leftovers of a raid on Shiro’s candy stache sprawled across the coffee table.

“Aw, Keith, you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

Pidge looks up and over her screen, lips curling in a sly grin that instantly puts Keith on edge. “Yeah, Keith, where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he says immediately. Then, “Out.”

“Out with Lance I bet. Isn’t your date today?”

Hunk gasps. “You guys are going on a date?”

“How did you…?” He spots his phone on the couch next to her and huffs angrily, stomping over and snatching it back. He quickly unlocks it, frowning when his last conversation with Lance immediately pops up, the other boy having sent a barrage of emojis in affirmation that their outing was still on. “Stop looking through my stuff and for the last time, we aren’t—it’s not a date. We’re just going for a ride, maybe check out the town market. It’s whatever.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like a date to me. Hunk, any thoughts?”

Hunk has just one. “It’s totally a date.”

Heat flushes his cheeks. “Don’t you have your own quarters? Why are you even here?”

Pidge leans back, priggish smirk still in tact. “Matt and N-1 are having their rebel friends over and I didn’t want to third-wheel it, so Shiro said I could crash here for the night.”

Keith internally curses Shiro and his mother hen tendencies. Outwardly, he searches for the key card he’s pretty sure he left on the table the night before. His hair falls into his face as he ducks to check under the furniture and he brushes it back behind his ear, thinking maybe it would be more manageable in a ponytail.

“Look at him.” Pidge snickers. “What a schmuck.”

Hunk shushes her with a light pat of the arm. “I think it’s sweet. It means he cares. And don’t you worry Keith, I’m sure Lance will appreciate the effort you put into today. It’s also perfectly normal to be nervous for your first date— ”

“I’m not nervous and it’s not a date.”

Their response is lost when he goes to the office in the next room and searches there. But it’s all for naught because Shiro is a veritable mess when it comes to anything other than flying because there are papers scattered everywhere and it would take hours to file through even half of it.

When he comes back out, Allura has joined them. She perks up at the sight of him, but he ignores her in favor of checking in between the cushions of the armchair. However, Allura is not deterred. “Keith, Pidge and Hunk have just informed me of your date with Lance. If I may, I have some suggestions—”

“I don’t need any suggestions. I just need to leave or I’ll be late.” Pidge squawks indignantly when Keith shoves her to check her side of the couch.

“Yes, you’re right! Punctuality is very important for these types of things. Early duflax gets the wyvin, as Coran always says.” It seems pointless to mention that not once has he ever heard Coran say that. “But if I could impart some advice before you go. Now, I don’t know much about Earthen mating rituals, but Pidge tells me that courting is a common practice here— ”

“I’m not listening.”

“—gifts are imperative for a successful—”

“Can’t hear you.”

“—when you present, do so when tensions are high—”

“Allura, please, stop.”

“—and then, finally, you must lay claim—”

“I’m leaving,” Keith announces loudly, trying and failing to drown out the giggles that come from Hunk and Pidge’s side of the couch. Forget the keycard. It’s not worth this pain. “Bye. I hope you all have a terrible day.”

They are unfazed by his words, grinning like madmen as they wave. He stalks out of the room, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears as he desperately tries to block out the kissy noises Pidge is making. He can’t believe there was a time he was worried that they would be out of his life; he must have been having an existential crisis or something because this is a new level of embarrassing.

He’s so consumed in his thoughts that he nearly barrels into Shiro on his way out. It’s only the steady grip of his automated arms that Keith doesn’t crack his head against the doorframe and give himself a concussion.

“Whoa there. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Looking for this?”

There, dangling from Shiro’s prosthetic fingers, is a familiar key card.

Keith lets out a deep breath, a whisper of relief cooling down the anxious fire within him by a few degrees. He sends his oldest friend a strained smile and takes them. “Yeah, thanks. Where did you find them?”

“Under the couch with one of my shoes, the holoscreen remote, Hunk’s headband, and Allura’s earrings. It seems like Kosmo’s starting a life of crime.”

He lets out a chuckle, unraveling just a little less. “I should probably put a stop to that.”

Shiro nods, patting his back in that sorta awkward, manly sort of way. It’s encouraging and he steps past the other man with a deep breath. Feeling more like himself, he secures the key card to his belt loop and turns to head down the corridor, promising himself that he’ll only start running when there’s no one to catch him doing it.

“Oh, Keith?”

Keith whips around, nerves already reinflating. “Yeah?”

Shiro fails to keep his smile in check. “Have fun on your date.”

And before he can even begin to retaliate, the door is sliding shut and he’s left there, standing in an empty hallway, red to his tips.

Lance looks nice. Really nice. Really, really, really nice. It’s actually a little distracting how nice he looks.

They had met up at the east end of the loading docks and Keith had fought to keep his cool when he had spotted the tall form of his fellow paladin casually leaning against a security rail. His white v-neck and ripped jeans contrasted with the industrial setting, his denim jacket faded and adorned with a couple of pins, sleeves rolled up to showcase the collection of beaded bracelets wrapped around his left wrist. But what had truly pulled it all together was the smile he had sent Keith upon noticing him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Lance returns. “You clean up good, Mullet.”

The compliment flusters him a little and he nearly walks straight into a support beam, only just managing to avoid it with a side-step that brings him close enough to brush shoulders with Lance. “Thanks. You, uh, you too.”

Unsure of what to say next, he ducks his head and leads them to the area the coordinator had assigned him when he had called in the favor. Section A-26 is large and the usual aircraft that docks there is nowhere to be seen; instead, there his hoverbike sits, scavenged from the Blue Lion’s cave and restored to its previous glory. He hoists himself up into the seat with practiced ease and looks down at Lance expectantly.

Pink tints the other boy’s cheeks, but there’s this mischievous smile on his face as he asks, “Why do you get to drive?”

“Because I’m the one that knows where we’re going.”

“Wow, you actually have a plan. Um, okay, then where are we going? Or is that top secret?” He bounces where he stands, looking for all the word: giddish.

“It wasn’t until you asked.”

Lance looks pleased at the response and climbs up behind Keith.

The hoverbike dips a little at the uneven dispersion of weight and he offers his hand as a brace, blushing faintly when it’s taken. But thankfully, Lance doesn’t see, focused as he is on swinging a leg over the seat and scooting close enough to Keith that his chest brushes sparingly at his back. Then hands are wrapping around his middle, loose, and it’s embarrassing how responsive Keith’s body is to the touch, rolling in one long shiver that’s unmistakable. If Lance notices he doesn’t comment on it.

“Ready to roll,” he says, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

Keith puts on the goggles hidden in the front compartment and passes the extra pair he brought to his back seat passenger. Then it’s a matter of twisting the throttle and feeling the engine come to life beneath them, four hundred pounds of metal under his control. And it’s like it was just yesterday he was speeding across the desert with Shiro, tasting freedom for the first time, his hands gripping the handles like they were always meant to; the circumstance has changed but the feeling hasn’t and Keith, with the luxury knowing that he’s got time on his side, grins and drives.

“Woah!” Lance exclaims when Keith tears out of the loading docks, erupting into laughter when they take a sharp turn at the gates of the Garrison compound and startle the men stationed there.

Then it’s just the open desert road, flat and red-tinged. The torrid heat follows at their backs, rolling alongside tumbleweeds and whistling in the wind that buffets the nose of the hoverbike. Dust swirls under the speeder's anti-gravity fenders, curling over the shadowy silhouettes of cacti that they fly past. It brings the beds of the distance buttes into startling focus, massive against the clear sky and infinite horizon.

It takes twenty minutes to get to their destination.

Keith parks at the outskirts of the town nearest to the Galaxy Garrison, waiting for Lance to dismount before following. Their shoulders brush a bit as they stand side by side, Keith eyeing Lance as he eyes their surroundings curiously. The town market is already in full swing, tents set up and people bustling about, buying and selling wares; already, more than one individual behind a stand is calling out to them, offering a discount if they buy in bulk.

“I thought we could walk around a bit?” he says, hoping that the idea isn't too lame. “And after—well, there’s an arcade in the plaza a few streets down and they’ve got pizza.”

His fears are unfounded because Lance just grins. "Pizza not made out of green goo? Count me in."

Things go smoothly after that. The anxiety bubbling in Keith’s chest eases and it allows him the strength to grab Lance’s sleeve and tug him in the direction of a tent hosting a repository of wind chimes. From tent to tent, they go; browsing at board games from planets even they haven’t been to, giggling over misspelled words on shirts, daring each other to try gross-looking foods and petting every dog they see.

And it’s… fun. Keith is having fun.

Lance is great. He’s nice and funny and smart and actually seems to enjoy hanging out with Keith. He nods along when Keith speaks, insanely attentive, and offers his own input with great enthusiasm. They bicker too, playful jabs volleyed back and forth, easy and natural like it never was in the beginning but is now. And although Keith has never thought himself to be an overly funny guy, he finds that pulling a laugh out of his fellow paladin isn’t all that hard and even sort of a reward on all on its own.

It’s like they fit, slotting together like puzzle pieces—or flashes.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance’s hand finds Keith’s elbow. He had discarded his jacket just before they started eating, which is doing nothing to help the hot flush rushing to the apple of his cheeks. The corded muscles of forearms on display is near impossible to ignore and Keith’s eyes follow the dips and curves of his arm, the hard muscle leading up to his shoulder, the soft line of his neck, the defined jawline. “Your fries are getting cold.”

It’s the touch that has him pulling out of the confines of his thoughts, physically shaking his head and straightening his shoulders, not wanting to appear anything less than invested.

Naturally, the world seems to think Keith can’t have a single nice thing without a price because it’s just a few minutes into their meal that his phone starts to blow up with messages. A quick glance shows that most are from his mother, with a few from Shiro sprinkled in intermittently. All of the messages are ones of encouragement, some having been sent while they were driving and others steadily ignored when the two had browsed the stalls of the market.

Eventually all the small pings get to be enough that Keith has to silence his phone.

“You’re really popular today,” Lance notes, slathering an alarming amount of ranch onto his pizza. It’s only when he drowns the unsuspecting slice that he catches Keith’s surprised and guilty look that he elaborates, “Dude, your phone has been lighting up all day. I’d be blind not to notice.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

Still, Keith feels the need to explain. “It’s Shiro and my mom. They’re… checking up on me.”

That gets a light laugh out of Lance. He brings out his own phone, showing Keith the mass of notifications on his lock screen. “I get that. I’ve gotten at least five texts asking if you’re secretly an axe murderer. I hope three years in space is enough time to confidently say that I wasn’t lying when I told them you weren’t. Would really put a damper on the day.”

“I don’t even own an axe.”

Lance’s grin grows and when he puts away his phone to continue eating, he doesn’t reclaim the few inches of space he had given away in order for Keith to see the screen. Their elbows knock a few times, but Keith doesn’t mind.

They leave the plaza in a good mood, making their way back to the hoverbike while they talk about nothing and everything. They only stop when they mount the vehicle and when Lance doesn’t ask Keith where they’re going he decides that he doesn’t want the day to be over quite yet, so he revs the throttle and heads toward the direction he knows his shack is. He eventually leads them to a hill that he and his father used to frequent when he was younger, an escape from the world long before the stars were something to shoot for.

It’s an easy hike up the hill and when they settle by the edge, their pinkies are touching.

“You can’t do that,” he says on their fourth game of tic-tac-toe when Lance brushes the dirt and erases his wobbly X, shifting it over a spot so that it blocks Keith’s next move. “That’s cheating.”

“No, Keithy boy, that’s what I call winning.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” Que pursed lips and a sly side-eye. “If it’s not, then why did you dress up for today, huh? Trying to one up me in style too?”

“This is what I usually wear.”

“Pah-lease. Like I don’t know Shiro’s handiwork when I see it. Dude’s got an eye for colors and he did you a solid keeping with the red. Bet he put up such a fuss when you kept the fingerless gloves—they scream embarrassing scene phase that never really went away.” Lance laughs when he doesn’t immediately counter the accusation and it must fuel him because he continues. “I bet you were upset when you couldn’t find any eyeliner for our date—”

As if struck by lightning, Keith straightens.

“—probably used it all up making yourself look like an edgy, space raccoon going to some street race—”

Our date, Lance had said. He had called this a date. They were on a date right now. Officially. The two of them, together.

“—being emo. But, I mean, whatever works, you know? Sometimes you just gotta paint your nails black and—mmph!”

Keith’s kiss lands on his upper lip, hard and dry.

It’s quick, over and done within a matter of seconds. Lips tingling and heart hammering, Keith pulls back, soul leaving his suddenly flushed body when he realizes he can still feel the other’s breath on his face. He must remain in his catatonic state for longer than he realizes because then Lance’s giving him this particular frown and saying, “What was that?”

With nothing else to do, he shrugs helplessly. “It was a kiss.”

“I know what a kiss is.” Eyes search his. “Why did you kiss me? ”

“I wanted to,” he says simply. “Was that not okay?”

“No, that wasn’t… No, it was cool.”

“Cool,” Keith repeats.

Lance scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I liked it.”

“Me too,” he adds, looking down. A good portion of their game has been accidentally wiped away and he redraws it, purposefully putting all the X’s and O’s in their respective spots before Lance had decided to remake the rules. He nudges the other boy’s foot with his own, biting back a smile when they’re hooked together. “We can, um, stay here? If you want?”

“I’d like that.”

They stay long enough to watch the sun dip under the horizon.

As dates go, it’s the best he’s ever had.

Later, when he’s home and high off the promise of a second date, he walks into the kitchen to find his friends congregated despite the late hour.

“So,” Allura starts as soon as he walks in, boots loud on the linoleum floor, trying to appear casual as she leans against the counter and just failing. It doesn’t help that the space mice are nearly tripping over her hair as they peer at Keith from over her shoulder, adding four tiny pairs of eyes to the many already scrutinizing his every move. “You’re back awfully late.”

Romelle is no better, inspecting her nails even as her ears twitch in his direction. “Yes, how did it go?”

There’s a plate of cookies on the island counter, comically shaped like the lions and dressed in an assortment of colors. He picks up the only red one on top and bites into it, humming at its surprising sweetness. Knowing his audience still expects an answer, he attempts an aloof shrug and nails it. “It was fine.”

There’s a pause and Keith can tell something is coming. He doesn’t know what exactly, but the warning signs are all there, flashing neon when Allura steeples her fingers and gives him a look.

“And the other… thing?”

“What other thing?”

“Why your kiss with Lance, of course.”

He nearly drops the sweet in his hand and immediately goes to look through the kitchen pass-through, spotting the rumpled state of the pillows and blankets by the living room window looking out to the barrack’s hallway. That and the smudge of chocolate on the window sill, coupled with the candy wrappers sticking out of Pidge’s hoodie pouch, can only mean one thing. “Were you watching?”

“No,” Romelle and Hunk immediately deny just as Allura and Pidge say, “Yes.”

Keith fumbles for a plausible reaction. His friends had undoubtedly seen the goodbye kiss that had been exchanged between him and Lance when the latter had insisted on walking him home; it had been a memorable kiss and Keith had maybe lost himself to it for longer than he’s willing to admit, but that’s something else entirely. A little helplessly, he searches the room for a means of end for this absolute embarrassment. He finds none. “That’s—I can’t believe—uncool!”

“Lance texted me almost immediately after,” Hunk offers, as if that makes up for his eavesdropping and then denial of said eavesdropping. “He hasn’t stopped talking about how you sprung one on him. You don’t really beat around the bush, do you?”

Shiro, the traitor, nods. He ignores Keith’s death glare and takes a sip of his tea, eyes crinkling with mirth over the rim of his mug. “Keith has always been very straightforward in what he wants. A real go-getter.”

It’s at that time that Coran makes an appearance, dressed in an obnoxiously orange pajama set with a matching hat, but any hope Keith has of the older man causing a distraction and, by default, a new topic change dissipates when he asks, “Oh, are we talking about Keith and Lance’s kiss? Congratulations Keith, I hear it had quite the impact.”

Pidge looks like she’s barely holding back a laugh. “Yeah, way to go in for the kill, Keith.”

“Can we stop talking about this?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Stop talking. Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear another word.”

Thankfully, they listen and grow quiet. It doesn’t stop the looks that are thrown his direction, especially with Allura nearly vibrating in her slippers in the effort to capture his gaze, but it’s easy to scowl and turn away. He snatches the drink Shiro holds, ignoring the other’s surprised whine, and takes a sip, ready to head to bed and purge this conversation from his mind, never to be brought up again—

“Did you use tongue?”

Keith chokes.

Hunk merely hums. “Yeah, didn’t look like it.”

Keith thought he knew what love was.

It had been an easy thing, once upon a time. It had been his dad’s hugs after a long day, the blade left to him from a mother he didn’t know, a pat on the back following a perfect maneuver from a brother he found. It was as simple as looking up at the sky and letting himself get lost, for space was everything he had ever wanted, vast and exciting and impossible. Constant and safe and easy, a look to the heavens that held every dream.

But this is new.

New in that he is utterly blindsighted and unprepared for when it happens. A change in heart, from wistful ache to hopeful relief, sudden in the wake of new love. Stitched together through time and soft words, it beats again. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, it goes, drumming loudly against his chest, swelling at touches that burn like supernovas, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Even more goosebump-inducing than the fire in his chest is the response it gets. Because, startling enough, the feeling is reciprocated.

No words have been said but the thought is there. It comes through in the accidental brushes that turn to lingering caresses. It’s the stretch of an arm thrown over wide shoulders, heads dipped closer as casual words are exchanged. It’s the lack of space as they sit, thighs pressed firmly together and feet idly kicking. It’s the pluck of pink petals out of dark hair, absent-minded, curling in the breeze. It’s the hand pressed against a lower back, feather-light as it guides them closer and onward.

Everything is the same, but different.

Following the date, they are still Lance and Keith, still stubborn and opinionated and more than willing to call each other out, but now—now, they’re more. Keith can talk strategy for restoration while their hands are clasped under the table; can steal a kiss during a spar and, while the other is distracted, sweep his legs right out from underneath him and ensure his victory; can argue the integrity of putting pineapple on pizza for three hours while cuddled under Lance’s arm; and can even sneak the boy into his room when Shiro and his mom are out on call, leaving the door closed and the lights off. He’s allowed to do these things—encouraged, even, if Lance's pleased as punch looks are anything to go by—to look, to touch, to hold. It’s a recently discovered niche in which they fall into, each eager to explore, and once they find their line, Lance makes a point of tiptoeing it. And Keith—well, Keith can't find it in himself to complain.

(“Like this,” the Lance of his flashes murmurs to him one night as he gets ready for bed—only for the words to be spoken again three days later as they curl into each other on the beat-up couch in his shack. “I like it like this.”)

Life shapes into something remarkable in the days of after. It becomes a certainty that the flashes had promised and Keith sometimes can’t believe it, that he gets this. Gets this and more. Because not that long ago, he had nothing—he was nothing—scraping by, sneering at everything he couldn’t have just to hide how it hurt to be denied the love he so desperately craved. But that’s the past and though it shapes him, it is not him. He is here, today, and soon, tomorrow too.

Tomorrow and every day that comes after.

In a menagerie of light, meteor showers and space whales, Keith dreams.

Even so long apart, the abyss is a physical thing inside him. It curls inside in the space behind his heart while he sleeps, coveting each heartbeat like a dragon to a horde; time does not exist in this plane and each heart beat, a remembrance to what he has lived through and what he will live through, is too enticing to pass up. It croons out a soft lullaby, asking for one last look.

Keith gives it.

It’s the sand between his toes and lips meeting his own, sun-warm and pliant to the lazy breeze. It’s the hot puff of breath at his neck while frantic hands explore. It’s the ring on his finger and the sip of champagne, glasses clinking in a toast made. It’s the weight of a child on his chest, calm and innocent, snoring lightly as a small hand fists his shirt. It’s the dip of a mattress every night, for the rest of his nights.

Keith wakes up and knows that’s the last flash he’ll ever have.

On the first day of the rest of his life Lance challenges Keith to a race.

It’s not the first time one of them has issued such a dare and it surely won’t be a last, but Keith still treats it like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. He squares his shoulder and steps up to the plate, toe to toe, staring Lance in the eye as he accepts. It’s like old times, even with the newness between them, rearing up in the deliberate way Lance tilts his head, chin jutting out in that stubborn fashion of his, the crook of his eyebrow and the curl of his lips dangerous in ways Keith is only just getting used to.

Nevertheless, the day finds them back at the loading docks, convincing the Atlas crew to let them borrow another speeder. When Keith has signed the proper paperwork he turns to find Lance already seated on one of the hoverbikes. The red one.

Keith squints and Lance grins, but lets it go with a soft huff. He walks over to the gray bike and hoists himself with little effort, straddling the sleek seat and making himself familiar with the controls.

“Ready?” he asks once he's done.

“Born ready,” is Lance’s answer.

And, well, Keith can't let a challenge like that stand.

Without further ado, he revs the engine and shoots down the catwalk. He hears the beginning of a surprised squawk before the wind is boxing his ears, tugging at his hair, chasing away everything until it is just him and the road.

Flying is in his blood. It’s been a part of him since as long as he can remember. It was there when he sat atop his father’s shoulders, arms spread wide and leaning back as far as he dared, staring up, up, up. Fondly, he recalls the way big hands had grasped his tiny ankles and the voice, deep and honest, quoting, Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.

He had been too young to understand the words then, but he thinks he understands them now.

Though the most air he gets this time around is a particularly steep ledge over a slim ravine a quarter of a mile east from Galaxy Garrison property, it still feels the same. Like he’s taking a deep breath for the first time, lungs expanding until he is weightless, free. Free to be who he is, even if that is a boy quick to anger and slow to love.

And Keith likes who he is now. Likes who he can be—with Krolia, with Shiro and the team, with Lance.

In the end, Keith wins the race.

It’s a close call and his heart races at the thought of it. Because Lance is grinning that absurd grin, eyes crinkling with the force of it, and his hair is a mess, windblown and highlighted gold by the sun. The white shirt that clings to him is twisted and Lance makes a halfhearted effort to fix it as he quiets his hoverbike’s engine and starts talking in compensation, mouth moving a mile a minute.

“I almost had you at that last bend,” he is saying, leaning back in his seat so that his torso is one sleek slant. “I shouldn't have hesitated on the acceleration—I guess I’m just not an adrenaline junkie like you, but hey, now that I know the angle, it’ll be different. So I say we go around again. Two out of three wins. Loser has to help Coran clean the—Keith? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

It’s not a flash, but it feels like one.

“Keith?” Shoulders rise as Lance angles his head to catch his gaze, honest concern coloring those beautiful eyes. They aren’t that close, hovebikes parked perpendicular to one another, but he swears he can see the universe reflecting in dark navy. Planets colliding and forming, spinning in orbit around a dilated pupil. “Hey, man, what’s wr— ”

“Date me.”

The words are out of his mouth before he has time to really think about them and what they mean.

Lance splutters. “What?”

But now that the idea has been introduced. Keith can't deny its appeal; to keep what they have, in all its stubborn sincerity and wild attraction, going for as long as they live. Perhaps even further than that. “Date me,” he says again, with more conviction. A pause. “Please. Please date me.”

A moment, then—

“You just have to beat me at everything, don't you?” Lance starts, loud enough to be considered yelling, but having none of the thunderous anger usually associated with the volume. “Can't even give me this one thing, can you? Well, the joke’s on you—cause it was going to be great! I had everything planned out and it was going to be the most romantic thing ever! Would've blown this disaster out of the water, I'm telling you!” He stands and, uncaring of the wobble it gives under his weight, marches purposefully across the wing of his bike until they’re parallel to one another. One of his hands waves madly about, flying across the entire range of their surroundings before gesturing to Keith himself. “Candles and rose petals everywhere! Hunk was gonna cook something nice and we would've danced and—and you were gonna swoon! Straight into my arms! There would've been kissing and everything! The whole shebang!”

Keith furrows his eyebrows, lost. “What?”

But Lance blows past his confusion and slumps to the side in an expulsion of energy, mumbling, “God, you're such a jerk.”

Hands move to grip the front of his shirt, the only warning before the entire weight of his maybe-boyfriend is forced upon him. Keith feels the wisp of eyelashes fluttering against the column of his neck as Lance smooshes his nose into the junction there, mumbling words and noises he can't hope to translate. He returns the clumsy embrace automatically, winding his arms around the other’s waist and resting his cheek on a soft, brown crown of hair.

“So… yes?”

Lance laughs a watery laugh, deliriously happy, and leans back to stare him straight in the eye, a whirlwind of blue caught in a crystal ball of stars. The grip on his shirt loosens, fingers trailing up his chest until they tease the nape of his neck. “Of course it's a yes, you absolute loser.”

Keith frowns even as his heart sings, melody erupting into fireworks so loud he might go deaf. “See, it's stuff like that last part that really mix me up.”

“Oh my gosh, just shut up and kiss me.”

So he does.

Time, like most things in Keith’s life, is something he keeps close.

#klance #voltron #vld #laith #keith x lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #voltron legendary defender #aeon #fanfiction #writing #chomp chomp goes the raptor

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fermented-writers-block · 4 years

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Just recently, I stumbled across @owls-house‘s post on MSN’s article about some of the first look details of The Owl House while looking through some of the older posts about upcoming news on the show before it came out, and this particular section caught my eye in light of everything we currently know about the Boiling Isles and the cast of the show:

The Owl House:

The Owl House is a living structure that Eda has charmed so that she could live there and be safe from outside forces. Quaint and cottage-like on the outside, with a storefront facade, the inside of the Owl House is full of secret rooms, with a labyrinth for a basement. Hooty, the door knocker, serves as the home’s defense system.

Given how the Owl House is supposed to be Eda’s safe haven and how she hasn’t really shown that much of an interest in puzzle solving and mysteries, the two bolded details immediately stood out to me.

I mean, from what we’ve seen of her, Eda has never really struck me as someone who’d construct or even want to deal with a labyrinth in the first place - particularly one that’s completely unnecessary if its supposed to be a basement to simply just store things in - and I very much doubt Eda would install a whole bunch of secret rooms into her house that presumably go unused when she likes to collect things so often, let alone go through all the trouble of making entire rooms dedicated to being secret when we’ve seen her be content with the amount of rooms she already uses.

And that’s without asking where and what the heck these secret rooms are supposed to be about specifically, as while they are secret and thus understandably not generally supposed to be easily found, they would have to be VERY small rooms to fit inside with the relative dimensions of all the rooms we’ve seen so far compared to the size of the exterior, and that’s without asking about what purpose they would even serve.

As for the apparent labyrinth, such a word tends to evoke the image of some incredibly huge and complex maze-like structure with single overall path and no dead ends - although it’s often been used interchangeably used with ‘maze,’ which is basically a labyrinth with dead ends, so who knows what it actually looks like here - and yet there is no sign of any kind of tunnel when an animated Hooty stood up in Hooty’s Moving Hassle let alone hardly any implied space for the kind of grand, sprawling structure the word ‘labyrinth’ evokes.

Now, I’ve brought this up in my last theory about the Owl House as a structure, but as a brief summary, I deduced that it is not a place that Eda had constructed completely all on her own, but rather an amalgamation of a bunch of parts of different buildings that had gotten attached to one center section: aka the middle part of the house with white brickwork - or the Owl Temple as I’ve dubbed it before.

And after looking through the flooring and walls of the rooms we’ve seen so far of the Owl House, I’ve concluded that the labyrinth at the very least is located or accessible from either underneath the carpet in the living room:

Or somewhere inside the parapet/battlement thing that serves as the floor of Eda’s balcony:

Obviously, considering the likely size of both of these rooms in relation to the dimensions of the house, they must be hidden away by magic, whether it be through magical pocket dimensions or the like, but this just raises the questions of why these rooms exist in the first place.

For me, I can see only two possible explanations for both questions, both of which I’ve outlined extensively down below:

TLDR: Either the original people who used the Owl Temple a long time ago had build those rooms into it, or they are a potentially significant part of Hooty’s biology as the house itself

Option 1: They were built by the original inhabitants of the Owl Temple

Like I’ve discussed before, I suspect that - from the owl mural and the way the curtains are arranged - the living room used to be used as an altar or ritual room for some kind of owl spirit/deity, so following off that kind of conclusion, it’s possible that the rest of the temple was designed in a similar fashion related to the Owl Deity.

Perhaps these secret rooms are only unlockable through puzzles and riddles to play into how owls are usually portrayed as wise old creatures, hiding away ‘treasures’ not of gold and wealth, but rather of information and books. Maybe these secret rooms could have been like places of study where one could peruse ancient tomes or collect knowledge without being disturbed, or they could simply be full on ordinary rooms that people lived and slept in but with doors that can only be unlocked in a particular way ala the Ravenclaw dorms in Harry Potter.

As for the labyrinth, it could have been meant as a way to test one’s mind and observation skills/as part of one’s initiation, requiring an attentive eye to detail or such to figure out the one single route in and out of it. Maybe it holds some kind of great secret of knowledge or an important ancient artifact that only those who can figure out the path can find/use.

Of course, there IS the small chance it functioned more like a quirky cult with the labyrinth posing as part of kind of bizarre ritual or being used for sacrificial duty, but I very much doubt that this would even get past the censors let alone even got implemented with how un-cult-like the glimpses of the base design of the Owl Temple has been so far.

That said, given how I’ve speculated that something happened that led to the Owl Temple being abandoned, falling into disrepair and obscurity long before Eda first discovered it, she likely has next to absolutely no idea about the existence of at least most of these rooms, so it would be interesting to see exactly how the cast will eventually and inevitably find and explore these hidden rooms and labyrinth, especially with the chance at discovering long-forgotten knowledge or even uncovering dark secrets and old truths that have been suppressed and forgetten by the present day.

However, though I think this explanation and ramifications thereof would be interesting to explore in its own right, I can’t help but think that the second, more likely explanation would easily expand upon and add quite the intrigue to a particular character I’ve had my eye on for a good while:

OPTION 2: They are a part of Hooty and are only increasing in size and number as he grows

We all know that Hooty IS the house itself as demonstrated by his manipulation of various parts of the structure and from statements by Eda, but whereas the prior explanation was based on the idea that the old inhabitants had created the secret rooms and labyrinth themselves before Hooty came into the equation, here I’d like to propose that the rooms are a side result of Hooty slowly regenerating back into a full sized Owl Temple.

With the kind of importance and likely amount of people that would be present or living in such a place, it seems rather likely that what we see of the Owl Temple in the Owl House is but a small-ish remnant of the entire thing, especially with the doorframe in Eda’s room that most likely connected to another section or large area that she either couldn’t salvage in an intact-enough state or didn’t care about to bring with her.

However, though Eda’s additions seems to have been integrated relatively neatly with what she found of the Owl Temple for Hooty to probably be able to affect them, they are likely nowhere near enough to make up for the rest of the missing Temple.

As such, Hooty could potentially and unknowingly be growing new rooms to make up for the rest of the Temple - kind of like a yolk becoming a baby chick inside of its shell, forming organs and bones and etc until it’s big and strong enough to emerge.

Though here, instead of breaking apart the foundations and outside of the Owl House entirely, perhaps this transformation would be more like the structure suddenly expanding outwards and quickly stretching everything about itself similar a video about plant growth on fast forward, up until the outer dimensions match the ever increasing inner dimensions.

With this kind of analogy, it’d make sense why Eda wouldn’t know about these rooms and why Hooty wouldn’t bring them up, as to the former, they literally weren’t there when she salvaged what she could of the Temple, and for the latter, they’re just such a natural part of his body that he simply doesn’t notice.

Now, why I think that this would add an interesting layer of mystique to Hooty’s character is because of the important question of - if and when he finds out about these rooms - whether Hooty would be able to consciously control their structure and arrangement however he wants.

After all, if the answer is YES, then we might get to begin to see the full capacity of both Hooty’s power and his patience if he gets ticked off and decides to turn the inside of the house into this:

It would not only be an amazing opportunity for some glorious mind screwy animation with the transformation of a location we’ve all become accustomed to into something straight out of M C Escher’s nightmares, but would also give an opportunity to build Hooty’s character MUCH further beyond the complete butt monkey he’s been portrayed as.

Outside of Eda calling him a “state of the art defense system” in the first episode, he has barely gotten any respect and has never been treated seriously compared to even King. And even when he seems to have temporarily died in The Intruder given the crossed-out eyes and the lights going out in the house when they’re apparently directly controlled by him, Luz and King didn’t really stay that concerned for long. Heck, King was more annoyed at hearing Hooty’s voice again rather than being happy that he was still alive.

After enduring all of that, it’s a wonder that Hooty hasn’t snapped any sooner, so how he’d react when he finally can get people to listen to him without them being able to just simply ignore him or leave would open up the gates to his inner psyche and how he really feels about everyone and the way they treat him.

Exactly how he’d manipulate the interior dimensions would be extremely telling of what kind of character he truly is at heart, what with the sheer kind of power trip from being in complete control over such a space vs how he would be calmed down from it, AND it’d mark a major and permanent shift in how everyone treats the being they live in on a daily basis due to how much mutual trust and respect both Hooty and his inhabitants would likely have to rebuild in each other to be able to go about their day and keep their relationships intact.

That, and it’d be a REALLY interesting glimpse into the full eldritch nature of a house with many more rooms on the inside than the outside suggests, one that actually has a mind and consciousness to drive it and thus one that you don’t really want to piss off if you can. Just think of all the fun horror/mind screw that could be done with such an episode about this.

Of course, this does bring into question exactly what is the deal with the labyrinth, but running off the seemingly one-time joke from the first episode where - instead of simply opening the door like he’s done in every other episode - Hooty lets everyone in by opening his mouth and even burping, the entire living room could easily be equated as Hooty’s stomach.

I’ve discussed this with @sepublic a bit, but because of how he can stretch vertically instead of just his neck as shown above, as well as the likely placement of the labyrinth underneath the living room, I suspect that the labyrinth might be doubling as Hooty’s intestines given the way real intestines fold and twist around while also having one single route through them like a labyrinth does.

That, and that Hooty may have gained Eda’s trust as a good enough defense system for her to rely on by being able to do this to whoever tries to attack the house from time to time:

I would not be surprised if Luz or Eda or whoever checks out the labyrinth later in the series might find the remains of some of Eda’s old enemies down there.

That said, considering how much bigger the original Owl Temple might possibly be than the Owl House, Hooty would likely require quite a LOT of material/energy to build back those rooms and other parts of the Temple. And given how he doesn’t exactly seem to passively be feeding off ambient magic or something alongside the comparison to intestines, well...

It just makes one wonder just what state those remains are in, let alone how recognizable they even still are in the first place.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house theory #owl house theory #hooty #speculation #long post #amnesiac owl deity hooty theory

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 4 years

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Impending Paternity

Word Count: 3900+ (oneshot) [AO3]

Genre: Humor/Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Peter B. Parker/Mary Jane Watson

Characters: Peter B. Parker, Mary Jane Watson, Spider-Man Noir, Peter Porker, Gwen Stacy, Peni Parker, Miles Morales

Summary: The closer the birth of his first child gets, the more Peter’s old fears of fatherhood resurface. Fortunately for him, he now has universes of parenting advice to call on and prepare him.

Written for the @dimension-zine.

~0~

Waking up in a cold sweat wasn’t something at all new to Peter B. Parker. That didn’t make it any less unpleasant.

What was new to him was registering the feeling of MJ’s arms around his waist as they slept, the flat press of her chin by his shoulders. Once again, they shared a bed: small, but more than enough room for them to lay pressed up against each other, legs entwined, skin on skin. It was almost enough for Peter to forget what had caused him to sleep more restlessly than he had in a very, very long time.

Even in the dark of the bedroom, the damn pregnancy test is staring directly at him from the mesh metal wastebasket, with its solid pink eye. He’d stared down monsters, mobsters, and maniacs of all sorts without blinking, and yet this damn near ignites his old “curl up in the shower and hide” instinct. MJ’s stomach doesn’t show any signs of change yet, doesn’t feel any different against his back...But there’s going to be a tiny person in there very soon. A person that he helped create. A person that he’ll have responsibility to.

MJ can’t stop smiling about it — this is what she’s wanted for a long time — and her joy is very nearly infectious. Peter had agreed to this, of course he had. It was time for him to quit hiding away from the fears that he couldn’t dodge or punch away so easily. But still, he isn’t sure if he can say he’s wholeheartedly looking forward to it, and still be telling the truth.

He’s never had younger siblings or cousins. He has long since lost Uncle Ben and Aunt May (knowing that other versions of them exist, even meeting them, doesn’t erase the sting). MJ hasn’t said a word to her own parents in years, and Peter has never had any problem saying flat out how unhelpful he’s sure they’d be anyway. So he has nobody to fall back on if he has questions or confusions or fears — aside from MJ, and while he loves her and trusts her judgment in all things, he can anticipate there may be times when an uninvolved third party will be invaluable.

All of a sudden, Peter freezes, eyes going wide. He has the sudden impulse to jump out of bed that always used to come with a brilliant idea, which he feels are too few and far between nowadays. Obviously he can’t do that now, at fuck o’clock in the morning with his wife’s arms securely around him. It’ll have to wait until the morning, but oh, he can’t wait to explain to her over breakfast what he’s planning to do when he grabs enough free time over the next few months. She still hasn’t heard everything he’s had to tell about his little dimension-hopping adventure...

~0~

“So!” Spider-Man Noir slams this finished egg cream down on the table just as fiercely as he has the past eight glasses. “You’re finally becoming a daddy!”

“How...are you doing that through your mask?” Peter asks hesitantly, sipping on his one half empty glass of the drink.

“I remember my childhood fondly,” Noir goes on as if Peter hadn’t spoken, gazing nostalgically out his window. He had wanted to take Peter bar-hopping, initially, but a guy walking around all in color attracted too much attention on the streets, and they had agreed that Noir’s apartment would be best for a private conversation. “Don’t remember my own mother or father, but my Aunt May says that she and my Ma used to trade parenting tips out of pamphlets when I was just a grub.”

Peter perks up slightly. “What kind of tips?”

“Well! First one’s for your future mama...Ah, how’s your place looking?”

Peter blinks. “It’s...fine. Better than living alone, no offense to you, but — ”

“No, no, you don’t get it. Is it all pretty?”

“Huh? Pretty?”

“Somethin’ Ma and Aunt May picked up from my granny,” Noir explains. “If a mama with an unborn baby sees ugly things, that ugly beams itself into her brain and straight down into her womb, and gets right into your baby. So you gotta be sure to keep her around pretty things to look at, you see? You want a nice kid, don’tcha?”

“Uh...Y-Yeah! I sure do!” he says, trying to keep disappointment off his face. Noir talks with absolute conviction in his beliefs, but what Peter had forgotten was that these were the beliefs of 1933. Even earlier, if he’s getting this stuff from older relatives. None of it’s going to do his twenty-first century self any good.

So the first chance he gets, Peter slurps down the last of his egg cream (surprisingly tasty, he’ll have to look up a modern recipe to compare sometime) and leaps up from his chair, sauntering back over towards an opening portal. “Thanks so much, Noir, but I gotta run! No telling when I can catch the next portal, y’know?”

Noir waves, unperturbed, pouring another drink. “Stock up on lard! You got to give baby’s first bath with it, get all that scum off ‘em!”

“Sure! Lard! No problem!” Peter calls over his shoulder, nearly diving into the portal.

~0~

Though Ham assures him that the natives find him much stranger and more unsettling than he finds them, Peter never quite gets used to being a real guy in a cartoon world. The lurid colors hurt his eyes, things move too fast and sound is constantly blaring, and for some reason he’s very, very suspicious about the contents of those hot dogs. But the veggie wraps are surprisingly good, and he chows down with one hand while typing at breakneck speed with the other.

“Hot dog, you’re fast enough to kick some butt at the Daily Beagle!” Ham bounces up and pats his head happily. “Granted, we’re more story-ey than sciencey over there, but you get the point! That file-hunting stuff’s really not giving you any trouble?”

“Nope,” says Peter through a mouthful of tomato and lettuce. MJ’s newly emerging cravings were much less of a pain than either of them had expected: they consisted mostly of something rich stuffed into something bread, and he wished he could bring something from here back for her. “The rules are pretty different from the re -- uh, from my dimension, but surprisingly easy to memorize. I should be able to retrieve what you’re looking for in...maybe two minutes?”

“Faaaaan-tastic!”

“Can you keep them busy that much longer?”

“Sure can!” As he speaks, Ham is already whipping a comically large wrench out of his pocket and hurling it at the helmeted boar goons trying to break through the barricaded door. “Take that, you @#$%^&*!”

Peter still isn’t sure how Ham manages to make those sounds instead of swearing, but no matter. As far as he’s concerned, no questions equals smooth sailing.

Well...of course he does have one.

“Hey, Ham, this might be a weird thing to ask, but...what would you call ‘good parenting?’”

“Huh, I’m not sure. My parents passed before I was hatched, but Mom made sure her sac was settled in a nice place! My web was in May Porker’s lab for months before I transformed! Good thing, too, I was coming up on the tail end of my lifespan!”

“Oh...Y-Yeah, real good thing,” Peter stammers, fingers momentarily freezing on the keys as he processes that whole spider-turned-pig thing one more time. He’s privately quite glad that he’s never seen what’s under Ham’s mask.

“I consider myself real lucky, actually!” Ham laughs. There’s a crash, and the metal door starts to squeal off its hinges, the enemy scrabbling to all get through the cracks at once. Ham promptly yanks out a machine gun and lets fly at them. Peter chokes down a laugh at the toy rat-a-tat-a-tat noises it makes. “Aunt May’s the best aunt a Spider-Ham could ask for! Bakes a mean apple pie, talks my ears off about her tech, supports me in all my endeavors. And you know, I can barely even see the bite scar anymore!”

Peter chokes on tomato. “The what?”

“Oh, Aunt May was the radioactive pig that turned me into Spider-Ham in the first place! My memories are slightly muddled around that time, but oh well! Doesn’t matter! Though neither of us had any idea it would do that, soooo...maybe just be extra careful about where your teeth go?”

Peter huffs, right-clicking the elusive file he’s found and downloading it to Ham’s flash drive, which is unsettlingly shaped like a bacon strip. “Yeah. Great advice. Don’t bite my kid. Next you’ll be telling me to keep my window open for the delivery stork to fly in with ‘em.”

“Well, sure, that’s just common courtesy! If ya really want to be nice, you give your stork a nice big tip!”

Peter swallows a groan from the deepest depths of his being, along with the last of the wrap.

~0~

“Six months and I still can’t believe you’re going to be a dad!” Gwen shouts, gracefully backflipping over another laser beam. “Like an actual dad!”

“Almost seven, actually! And yep! Can’t believe it either!” Peter answers somewhat breathlessly, through his own leaping and punching of the armored thugs rushing in through the legs of the gun-toting robots. “Any ideas for names? Because MJ and I are way out!”

He hears Peni’s thoughtful humming through the speakers of her newest prototype: SP//dr, Mark Three. “Hmm...I don’t know much about historical naming conventions, but I also don’t think they’ve changed very much...Chief Stacy, what do you think?”

Safeguarded inside SP//dr’s cockpit from the onslaught targeting him and remaining remarkably calm about it, George Stacy considers it. “Hm. My daughter’s name is Gwendolyn. I’ve always thought that was the nicest name.”

Peter smirks under his mask, and gently elbows Gwen as she passes him. “Whaddaya think, Spider-Woman?”

He physically feels Gwen rolling her eyes. “It’s fine. Why don’t you just name him after you?”

“There’s millions of me! Maybe more! And besides we don’t even know if it’s a him, yet!”

“What about Ben? Or Benjamin?” Peni suggests. “To honor your uncle!”

“Oh, come on! Doesn’t anybody have an original idea!”

Gwen wrenches a robot head off and lobs it straight into a goon’s chest. “You know what, those will probably be a little easier to come by after we finish getting shot at!”

“Agreed, ma’am,” Chief Stacy says. “Excellent throw, by the way. Hey, Man-Spider, machine gunner at three o’clock!”

No matter how short and no matter how many people fight beside him, Peter’s various battles always seem to last forever as they happen, but the memory of them only lasts a blink of an eye. So it’s slightly dizzying when just a couple hours after the attack has been dealt with, Chief Stacy secured, and a plan for Gwen to hunt down whoever had ordered it outlined, the three of them are sitting on the roof of a skyscraper, eating cheeseburgers while the sun rises before them.

“I can’t even imagine eating a burger with pickles on it,” Gwen says. “You’re really telling me that’s the common thing instead of chili peppers where you’re from?”

“Yep,” Peter confirms, washing a large, hot bite down with a quarter of his soda. “I mean, I’ve had jalapeño burgers before, but they’re like a specialty thing.”

“We eat pickles on our burgers, too, but they’re all deep fried,” Peni puts in. “Crunchy.”

Gwen laughs, the breeze blowing her hair back. After hearing the story of how she’d acquired her undercut, Peter always finds it funny that she’d gone ahead and kept it after all. “So weird.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says. “Entirely unrelated, if you need any more help with your dad, you just let me know.”

“And me!” Peni adds, SP//dr waving a leg in agreement.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Hey...Speaking of dads...” Peter pauses a moment to think before continuing, “What would you call your dads’ best qualities? Like, as a dad?”

“You’re looking for advice again?”

“A little template would be nice, sure!”

“All right, then...” Peni taps a French fry on the burger box. “I always loved how smart and loving my dad was, and that he had faith in me to continue his work when he was gone. Dad always believing in me helped me to believe in myself, when I might not have otherwise.”

Gwen nods. “I feel pretty similar about my dad. He doesn’t know about me being Spider-Woman, and he doesn’t really get the whole rock band thing. But he makes sure I know that he loves me no matter what, and that he’ll support me in whatever I decide to do. Provided I’m not, like, becoming a supervillain or anything, but I’m doing the opposite of that, so...”

Peter feels the urge to start taking notes. “Sounds good, sounds good, and...don’t take this the wrong way, but is there anything they do, as dads, that makes you not like them sometimes?”

Peni giggles. “Of course there was! I didn’t like when he’d work late and not get home on time, or when he’d make me stop reading comics and go to bed, or something like that. I’d get annoyed with him, but I still loved him.”

“My dad kind of runs the house like he does the police station,” Gwen adds. “He can be super strict, a bit like Miles’ dad. Ironclad rules and curfews for me and my brother, endless lectures when we break them. If I were a normal girl, it’d be pretty stifling, but since I have this life that I have to keep secret from him...it can be really hard sometimes.”

“Yeah, I...I can see that. I don’t really know if I should keep who I am secret from my kid, though. Would it keep them safe, or...just make them resent me? Or both?”

Gwen sighs. “There’s really no right answer, I don’t think.”

“You’re worried about being perfect.” Peni pats his shoulder. “But you don’t need to be. Just use your best judgment.”

Peter looks glumly at the street below. “I wish that was something I trusted.”

~0~

There’s a hollowness inside his chest.

The only light on the wide, empty street are from the street lamps, ghastly white against the pitch black. He moves as if underwater: swinging, roundhousing, throwing his barely-pulled punches. His heart is pounding, but the rest of him and the world feels numb. Cold sweat soaks the inside of his mask, and heavy dread washes over his skin.

Peter’s fighting shadows, human-shaped pillars of darkness. His strikes go right through them, when he can reach. But everything they land on him feels like being pummeled by a cannonball, and he’s not sure how long he can endure it.

The end comes out of nowhere. One spectral arm flashes up, there’s a glint of silver, and a soundless explosion that makes the whole world ripple. It hits his chest like a tidal wave, slams him into the concrete. He can’t get up again. In the world of muted, swimming colors, the gushing of blood from his shot-open heart is sickeningly vivid.

“DAD!”

Everything in him jolts. He lifts his spinning head to see a kid sprinting towards him, as fast as they can but not fast enough to reach him. He can’t tell how old the kid is, or whether they’re a boy or girl. But he recognizes MJ’s bright red hair and blue eyes, and his own expression of utter, gut-wrenching horror and heartbreak.

“DA-A-A-D!”

He tries to say he’ll be okay and coughs up blood instead. His rib-punctured lungs won’t let him speak. Panic engulfs him: his death is going to be burned into his kid’s eyes forever and there’s nothing he can do, nothing he can do, nothing, nothing, nothing —

“Peter! Peter, wake up, it’s okay!”

The darkness is blue, striped by the thin gold light through their bedroom blinds. His eyes fly open and he grabs for his bare chest: intact, bloodless. It’s soft and safe around him but he still can’t catch his breath. MJ is awkwardly rolling over in bed to stroke his hair and try to hug him.

“Peter, you’re okay. You were dreaming. Just dreaming...”

She’s no stranger to dealing with him like this, and the guilt stabs deeper. “I...s-sorry, I...”

“Deep breaths. Slow breaths. I’m here.”

“I won’t be,” he chokes out.

“Peter — ?”

“I-I dreamed that someone shot me, killed me, r-right in front of our kid. It...God, it terrified them, ruined them for life, I could feel it, and it was all my fault!”

He rolls over to look at her face, to anchor him to the real world. He half-expects to see irritation in her eyes at his weakness. Instead there’s love and sympathy.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was just a dream. That doesn’t mean it will happen.”

“It happened to every parent I ever had. It happened to me. What if I do that to my kid? I can’t — I don’t — ”

Trembling, Peter places his hands on MJ’s belly. Their kid, determined to make sure that their mom sleeps as little as possible, kicks a drumbeat against his palms. They don’t know what fear, pain, or loss is yet. How can he be the one to bring it into their life?

“I’m not running away again,” he assures MJ, as her fingers run through his hair.

“I know you won’t. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave our kid. I never did. I want to be there for you for the rest of my life,” Peter forces out through his tightening throat. “B-But that choice could end up not being mine, after all of this. The things I do, the people I fight, I could die anytime! I’d leave you again. Both of you.”

MJ cups his cheek, leans in to kiss his forehead. “I can’t tell you that nothing bad will happen, Peter. But I can tell you you’re not alone. Like, I worry about the same thing happening to me that happened to my mom. Dying before our baby can even remember me.”

Peter’s heart lurches; he’d forgotten about that. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t —“

She cuts him off with another kiss. “We’re both afraid, Peter. Your job is probably the most dangerous one out there, but you don’t have to go through this alone. All we can do is what every parent has to do: our best.”

“What if my best isn’t good enough? What if I fail, and they hate me?”

“It’ll be more than enough for the people who love you. Always.” MJ smiles. “And they would never hate you. I never could, no matter what.”

Tears slip down his cheeks. He wants to tell her thank you, but he can’t seem to speak, only hug her as close as he can.

~0~

He has one place left to visit. Something he hasn’t been able to face until month nine.

Aside from this world’s MJ, Miles is the most common visitor to Perfect Peter’s grave. After the first time, he’s never surprised to see Peter B. here too.

“Hey,” he says as Peter walks up, morning dew soaking his sneakers. “How’s it going? Is MJ doing okay?”

Peter nods. “Her due date’s in two weeks. All smooth sailing so far as the doctors say.”

“Awesome.” Miles half-smiles. “So...you had a question for me?”

“Yeah. I just need...one more hope boost before this thing really gets started. Feel free to tell me to kick rocks back to my own dimension if you don’t want to talk about it, but...” He gestures to the gravestone. “This Peter. Your uncle. What was it like to lose them, because of their line of work? I’ve made my life so damn risky, am I doing something wrong bringing a baby into it with me?”

Miles is silent for a long time. “I don’t have a solid yes or no to that. I...I’ll always wish things were different for them both. That there was something I could have done to save them. If I let myself think about it too hard, or too long, I’ll lose myself in it.”

Peter winces. But then Miles goes on.

“I’ve just got to tell myself, what happened, happened. Can’t change the past. The best thing I can do, for them and for me, is keep moving forward. I miss them like crazy and I wish they were still around, I always will. But more than anything, I remember the lessons that they taught me. That they were good men, that they cared about me. It’s the same with you and your uncle, right?”

“I...I do remember him that way. Yeah. But I was going into college when Uncle Ben died. I wasn’t...just a kid. I chose this life, MJ chose to stay with me, our kid didn’t ask for this kind of life.”

Miles shrugs. “I worry about my dad every day. He’s worked a dangerous job in a dangerous city since before I was born. I don’t hold it against him, because I know why he does it. I’m one of the people he’s trying to protect, after all.”

“Yeah, but — ”

“Peter. Come on.” Miles turns to look at him then, with a knowing smile. “You don’t know all of what you’re doing. No one does. What matters is that you’re a good man, and that’s what’ll be most important to your kids, whatever happens: that their dad loves them and would do anything for them.”

Peter feels the same rush of pride and affection for him that he had back at the reactor, along with a sense of security around his heart. He’s surprised to find himself laughing. “You’re the best, kid, you know that?”

Miles’ grin broadens cheekily. “Oh, I know. I try.”

He wraps an arm around Miles’ shoulders and pulls him in for a hug. “Yeah, just keep trying, future godfather.”

It takes a second for the word to hit Miles, and then he spins around to stare at him with huge eyes. “I — their godfather?! Me?”

Peter laughs. “No one out there’d be better than you. Only the best for my kid.”

~0~

After the twenty-seven most stressful hours of their lives, Mira Penelope Watson-Parker emerges into the world with a long, indignant screech.

Illuminated in the noon sun, in the soft yellow hospital room, both his wife and daughter look like angels in Peter’s eyes. He doesn’t even care that he’s about to cry. “You did amazing, hon.”

MJ grins. “Helps to have a husband whose hands I could squeeze as hard as I needed. C’mere and hold her. I’m sure she wants to meet her dad.”

Peter tries so very hard not to tremble as MJ passes their blanket-wrapped daughter into his arms. He’s never felt anything so delicate in his life.

“She’s...so tiny,” is all he can manage.

Mira’s hair is her mother’s bright red, just like in his dream. But the dark hazel eyes staring curiously up at him are all his own.

Peter smiles at her, cradling her close. He really would do anything for her, he knows that already.

“Hey, sweetheart. Hey. Dad’s here.”

#into the spider verse #spiderman #peter b parker #miles morales #into the spiderverse #kaen's fics

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tempestaurora · 4 years

Note

Your tags under the Peggy post. I’m shaking!!! Please punch marvel in the face and let us have that movie!!! That’s the most perfect fix it idea ever!!!!

can i actually just run through my avengers movie idea for a sec? because it’s been one of my repeated day dreams since april 2019.

alright: so it’s set maybe six months, maybe a year after avengers: endgame. unfortunately, tony and nat are dead. this cannot change, unless we get some kind of magic going, and i’m not knowledgeable about marvel magic enough to get a fix. so.

we start on an avengers: age of ultron-like fight scene, where the remaining avengers - literally whoever is left, plus spider-man, maybe bucky if he’s feeling it - are kicking some butt. maybe aim or modok or something, its irrelevant. they clean up, head home, and perhaps swing by the new compound. it’s smaller than the last one, still in the same kind of location. there’s clearly work still being done to fix it up.

steve is perhaps out on the grass, reading a book. maybe he’s in a wheelchair, because he’s old now. they say hello, head inside, maybe someone stays out to talk to him. now, a new character/avenger could totally bring it up - in my head, i like to imagine jessica drew or riri williams, or one of the young avengers maybe. alternatively, perhaps there’s just boxes all over the foyer.

“what the hell is this?” sam might ask, after tripping over one. he had not been looking where he was going.

“oh! my delivery!” perhaps bruce replies, as he is the last remaining Science Guy (not including rhodey, who is Weapon Science Guy) in the avengers. “after shield-gate and the decryption of those files, a lot of old shield stuff got declassified.”

“and it’s here?”

“well shield’s still kind of... gone, i guess. where’s a safer place for it than here? ooh, the report on who killed jfk!”

bucky, across the room: “want a spoiler?”

the plot goes on; perhaps there are more aim or modok or something bases to be taken down. or a criminal gang. idk. they’re a side plot, who will perhaps become important in the final act, but for now, bruce starts reading through his files, until:

“barnes! you might be interested in this. it’s the original ssr paperwork about dr. erskine’s serum.”

“the one steve’s got?”

“the very same.” they flip through a few pages, and bruce slows. “this doesn’t make sense.”

“hm?”

“the serum. it’s self-sustaining. self-vitalising.”

“in english?”

“steve’s cells are reproductive. when they die, more take their place. it’s how he combats illness; his cells flip over so fast that the sick ones don’t have a chance to catch on. but...”

“but what?”

“if this is accurate--which, it is. i’ve looked at his bloodwork myself! if this is right, it means that steve’s ageing should be slower than a regular human’s. perhaps by three times, even.”

“and what does that mean?” bucky is frowning now.

bruce looks from him, and then moves to the window, where steve is out on the grass, reading a book. “it means that he shouldn’t look like that.”

“banner?”

bruce turns around. “he lived one life in the other timeline, right? lived his life with peggy carter and then came right home.”

“yeah? yes.”

“then... that’s not steve. it can’t be.”

there’s dramatic music, bruce and bucky’s worried faces. steve takes a sip of a fruity drink from a straw.

they bring in some kind of scientist they know; maybe cho, idk, and they go over his bloodwork in secret. slowly, more people are let in on the secret, like sam, who bucky tells because he’s on the team, he guesses, but he’s only got like one friend. perhaps there’s still that other danger going on, but they really need to get to the bottom of this -

if that’s not steve, who the hell is it? and if that’s someone else, then where the hell is steve rogers?

scott lang and hope van dyne get called in to help build another quantum machine - they don’t have one anymore after steve returned the stones. a time machine is a bit too dangerous, even for them. old steve is around quite often - he likes the quiet, he has a room in the compound, no friends his own (new) age.

but something slips. he’s watching. he may look old, but his hearing’s still good. his vision’s still spectacular. he’s not steve rogers. he’s something else. they cannot comprehend his knowledge.

for much of the plot, we aren’t sure if they’re right, that he’s not steve. he’s acting like steve. he has steve’s memories, his voice, his mannerisms. maybe some people are sceptical - like peter, perhaps, on a weekend visit to train, psyched about the quantum realm idea, but really guys? because old steve has called me queens since the funeral. he can even recite those dumb psas he made. maybe peter talks too much, too loud, and the fake steve rogers knows the jig is up. they’re going to access the quantum realm and find the original steve - this is his final chance.

“you know,” old steve says, heaving himself to his feet, “your friends are right. i’m not steve rogers.” he starts growing bigger, and possibility gelatinous. i imagine it like the young avengers’ mother - some inter-dimensional being, who becomes sinewy, creeping tendrils of flesh and matter; massive in size with a harpy kind of roar. everyone rushes out to see this gigantic mound of flesh--

“what the hell is that, parker??!!”

“uhhh that’s not-steve. he’s acting very not steve today.”

the fight begins, and it becomes clear that whatever this is took steve’s place. stole him, kept him hidden somewhere, and now they’ve gotta get him back. they separate into teams; fighting the monster and racing to the quantum realm. at first, no one has their suits - perhaps they tag team it, or get new suits, or maybe peter has edith on him, and he calls down another iron spider, and she informs him that there’s a falcon x/captain america suit or something; a nanobot suit for sam. something very cool for the suit up, you know?

meanwhile, bucky and bruce are at the quantum machine; perhaps parts of the monster have detached themselves and fight them, too. perhaps the monster calls down its brethren and glowing green lights appear, monsters crawling out from other worlds. bucky gets suited up, and bruce sends him back--

there’s a battle--and bucky flying through time--and fighting--and bucky getting smaller and smaller--and chaos--and bucky landing in the night on a street in 1949.

he gets it pretty fast. it understands why steve might want to stay here. it’s the kind of life they dreamed for themselves after the war. a quiet suburban street; the city off in the distance. the lights are on in plenty of houses, bright yellow. he knows almost automatically which one to look at.

he peers through the front window, and there they are: peggy carter and steve rogers. he looks exactly as he did the last time bucky saw him young. they’re smiling. they’re dancing. perhaps not well - bucky was always the better dancer of the two. he’s about to raise his fist and knock on the window, but then peggy and steve stop, look around, and two small children, one blonde, one brunette, come rushing in. they laugh, picking them up and spinning them around, part of the dance. bucky stares.

there’s a massive fight in the compound, maybe doctor strange is there? idk. maybe he could feel the walls of the dimension cracking open to let these monsters through. thor is there, he deserves to be. captain marvel perhaps, too. but the more they knock down, the more grow back.

perhaps bucky walks through the neighbourhood, visits his family. he knows that no matter how long he spends in this place, it will only be a minute in the real world. so he goes home. he gets on a bus, then a train, hops the turnstile and finds his old house. he’s come home from war. his family cries. he cries. he holds his mother. his father calls his sisters and they rush through the night to greet him. he can’t leave in the night, he can’t. so he sleeps there until morning. returns to steve’s house and watches from a distance as they do the school run.

peggy kisses him goodbye and leaves for work. steve watches her go. but he is still perceptive as ever; he sees bucky, heads over. they hug. they talk. bucky breaks the news to him: this isn’t real. this is made up. a simulation, specifically to keep you here. something else has taken over your life.

steve doesn’t believe it - maybe they fight, i’m not sure. maybe bucky gets angry and even spits out the words “are they even searching for me yet? have you even told them what i’m going through right now? it’s 1949 - i remember this year as the year my handler got pretty trigger happy with waterboarding.”

we go between the fight at the compound and the 40s a few times, as bucky spends the day stewing and steve spends the day looking thoughtful and sending meaningful looks out the window to where bucky had been standing, but no longer was. as it grows dark again, early evening, the children return home from school, peggy comes back from work, steve starts cooking dinner.

he looks out the window and sees bucky out on the front path, watching the yellow-lit kitchen. he goes outside, asks if he wants to come in.

“no,” bucky replies. “if i go in, i’ll never leave.”

“is that such a bad thing?” steve asks.

“it is when it’s not real.”

“buck--”

“i wanted a life back then. i wanted this. some nice house in some nice neighbourhood. fall in love, settle down - the whole nine yards. but i got captured, steve. i got tortured, and brainwashed, and now i live in the twenty-first century, and i fight bad guys with ridiculous powers, and i have a computer that i can carry around in my pocket, and--things are good there! even the skinny, angry version of you could’ve lived better there. might’ve even got a cure or two for your sicknesses.”

“bucky--”

“this, though. this isn’t real, steve. i want it to be, so badly. you deserve this. deserve the peace and quiet. deserve the life, and the happiness and the--the girl. but right now, in the time you left, there’s a monster tearing up your friends. our friends. and they need help.”

“they’ve got captain america.”

“they don’t need captain america. they need steve rogers.”

steve can’t help but look back through the window, to where peggy and his kids are talking, serving up dinner. he sighs. “i can’t leave this behind, buck. i can’t.”

bucky sighs, perhaps this argument goes on longer, but he resigns himself to it. “i thought you might say that. i’ll be out here for another hour, and then i’m going back.”

bucky waits outside on the front path for an hour. steve eats his dinner and laughs with his family. when the time comes, bucky gets up, and looks back at the front door, hopeful. but--steve doesn’t show. he heads back.

the fight continues on, bucky breaks the news to bruce, and there are some bad injuries, maybe. i’d say that someone might die, but the real emotional climax of this film is steve-centred, so we probably don’t need a death. fighting goes on for an avengers-appropriate amount of time, and the tide turns against the avengers. then... just as all hope seems lost:

a second captain america shield slices through a monster, pinning down sam. its that holographic one (photon?) from the comics; just something tony had worked up before he died. the camera pans over to steve in his captain america get up; the same one he left in; catching the shield.

more fighting, then steve: “are you using my shield?”

sam: “the other, fake you gave it to me.”

steve shrugs. “it looks good on you. keep it.”

also during/near the end of the fight, bucky and steve reunite, and hug, because i’m a sucker for hugs.

bucky: “i thought you weren’t coming back”

steve: “i wasn’t. but--i couldn’t leave you behind again. not after you showed up like that.”

“but how’d you get back?”

“i still had my pim particles and suits stored in the attic. i think the monster stole my shield when he stuck me there, but he left everything else behind.”

“... i’m glad you’re back.”

“i’m glad to be back. really.”

they win the fight. i dont care how. maybe aim or modok or something shows up or maybe good old fashioned teamwork gets the job done. but they’re happy, and they’re together, and inter-dimensional travel has now been introduced. *cough* spiderverse *cough*

steve still gives up captain america - he’d spent four years in the past as a stay-at-home dad and husband, only using the old suit for press stuff, so he doesn’t really want it back. he liked settling down. that’s what he wants. perhaps he moves to brooklyn or harlem or wherever, to whatever apartment bucky and sam set up for themselves. he cooks and paints (a little girl with blonde hair and a small boy with eyes like peggy carter’s) and punches his fist halfheartedly in the air, droning “go team” whenever they head out on their missions.

he really did mean it when he said sam looked good with the shield.

there would probably be a b plot of another character Doing Things, like thor and captain marvel and whatever their adventure is. but i don’t know what it is yet. there’s a happy ending. then, the first credits scene is some inter-dimensional shenanigans and a villain being introduced. i personally imagine that kang is going to be the next big villain, but he’s time travel, not dimensional travel, so i don’t know.

then, your optional after credits scene: bucky and steve standing by the kitchen counter, talking and whatnot. i don’t know what about. maybe bucky’s getting ready for a mission, maybe steve’s just in a white tshirt and sweats and he’s just having a nice day, making himself some coffee, reading a good book. they talk, and steve nods bucky over.

“what?” bucky asks.

“thank you,” steve replies.

“... ‘til the end of the line, remember? i’ve got your back, rogers.”

“and i’ve got yours. you know that?”

“course i do.”

they smile. they’re happy. they’re at home. the screen goes black as soon as steve leans in and kisses bucky.

(or: your platonic ending: the screen goes black as soon as steve and bucky bump fists in a friendly non-gay way)

then: STEVE ROGERS WILL RETURN IN THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

it’s a reoccurring role. he’s largely in the background, cheering them on, and occasionally waiting up in bed when bucky gets home from a late-night mission. he trains sam with the shield on weekends.

the end

#marvel #mcu #steve rogers #avengers #avengers endgame #no read more cut we die like men #this took me almost an hour to write up #despite only taking ten minutes to imagine #anyway: kevin feige hire me #bethany talks #Anonymous

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

Text

Walking Like a One-Man Army

I guess this chapter is kinda for @soosly ? It does prominently feature Soos being a BA.

: Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 :

The three of them piled into Soos’s truck. Ford elected to slide into the back of the cab with Mabel rather than sit shotgun. He needed to tell his niece what Debbs had decided.

“Mabel, I, uh…” He said slowly, “I spoke with your mother earlier this morning…”

The colorful girl tensed and pulled the collar of her sweater up a bit. Had all their ill-fated conversations over the last couple of days left her apprehensive to even speak with him?

“...I told her I wanted to keep Dipper on as my apprentice, and that you were welcome to stay here as well. Unfortunately, she, uh, declined to grant her permission.”

“Oh!” Mabel smiled with relief, letting her collar drop. “That’s ok! Me and Dipper already talked about it and decided not to stay here anyway, so everything works out!”

Ford’s heart sank. So Stan was wrong. The children had indeed come to realize the old researcher was a toxic influence in their lives. He tried to tell himself it was for the best, to focus on his intellect and control his emotions, but controlling anguish was a lot harder than controlling fear. He at least was able to keep his expression neutral as he found something else to distract him: nitpicking grammar.

“Dipper and I.” He corrected her mechanically. “In any case, we need to come up with a plan to confront Bill and find Fiddleford.”

“He’s got this little shelter next to one of the telephone poles.” Soos commented from the driver’s seat. “It’s actually surprisingly nice for something in the middle of the dump made completely out of scrap material.”

“If Bill’s expecting us, that’s probably where he’ll be.” Ford said gravely. “I imagine he’ll keep Fiddleford close-by, to keep a close eye on his bargaining chip. We’ll need a distraction. Bill may be an all-seeing eye, but even he has trouble splitting his attention.”

“Oooh, I’m super amazing at being a distraction!” Mabel piped up.

“I don’t doubt that.” Ford nodded, fondness somehow managing to slip past all the other emotions he was repressing. “But I promised your brother and Stan that I’d keep you safe, so I need you to stay close to me. Soos, do you think you could be a good distraction?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” Soos said nonchalantly. “Mr. Pines asks me to be the distraction all the time! When the taxman comes, or the safety inspector, or the police….”

“Of course he does.” Ford muttered. “What I need you to do is keep Bill’s attention while Mabel and I look for Fiddleford and get him to safety. Bill should still be possessing that time travel agent, so while he won’t be able to access any of the reality-warping powers he wields in the mindscape, he will have access to any weapon from Gravity Falls’ history or future. You’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Well, they did teach me how to disarm an opponent with a gun or knife in my karate class, so I’ll probably be ok.”

* * *

It was quieter that Mabel was used to when they reached the dump. Normally, you could hear the sound of power tools and banjo strings even from the dump’s entrance, but not today. Today was deceptively peaceful.

The peace was broken by an eerie, high-pitched laugh. It was coming from the center of the dump, but as they looked around frantically, they couldn’t see their enemy anywhere. Ford fired his blaster, obliterating a board in the fence with a one-eyed triangle carved into it.

“Well, he knows we’re here.” He said gravely.

“What should we do?” Mabel asked.

“Proceed with the plan. Soos, you head straight for the center of the dump, we’ll go around the long way. Mabel, do you think you’ll be able to lead me to Fiddleford’s shelter if we don’t take a direct route?”

Mabel nodded with determination, even though she was only about 50% sure she’d be able to find the place, considering she’d only been there once.

They split up, Mabel leading Ford towards the east wall of the dump. She was pretty sure if she climbed up the pile of wrecked cars there, she’d be able to look out over the dump and figure out a way to get to McGucket’s shelter, and maybe even see where Bill was at.

While running through the dump, they heard the occasional scurry of a racoon or possum through the trash. It was clear that Ford’s already twitchy nerves were on high alert, and he leveled his blaster at every single one. Luckily, he hadn’t been startled enough to fire it yet, which was good because they were trying to sneak around while Soos was distracting Bill.

The stack of cars was within sight when they noticed more scurrying around the corner. Only unlike all the other scurries they’d heard, it seemed to be running towards them instead of away from them. Ford pointed his blaster yet again, and pulled Mabel behind him.

“PEEKABOO!” Blendin’s face wearing a contorted grin popped out from around the corner. “WOW, SIXER, YOU REALLY EXPECTED ME TO TAKE THE BAIT AND GO AFTER QUESTION MARK? PPPPFT, PLEASE! HE’S NOWHERE NEAR AS FUN TO MESS WITH AS YOU! OR SHOOTING STAR, FOR THAT MATTER.”

Bill took a few menacing steps towards them and leaned down so he was closer to Mabel’s eye-level. “WHADDAYA SAY KID? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE A NEVER-ENDING PARTY FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY? I’LL MAKE SURE ALL YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS ARE THERE, AND YOU’LL NEVER HAVE TO GO TO HIGHSCHOOL! IN FACT, YOU’LL BE ABLE TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS GIVE ME THAT RIFT!”

“Don’t you dare speak to her.” Ford growled.

“You’re a butt-brain!” Mabel shouted, flinging out the worst insult she could think of.

Bill shrugged Blendin’s shoulders smugly. “OH WELL. I WAS GONNA LET YOU HAVE YOUR OWN PERSONAL PARADISE BUBBLE FOR YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS, BUT IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA COOPERATE WITH ME, I GUESS YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO SUFFER UNIMAGINABLE PAIN AND DESTRUCTION LIKE THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE DIMENSION.” He pulled out a large rusty pipe and hefted it threateningly in his hands. “SO, WHERE’S THAT RIFT, IQ?”

“You really think I was stupid enough to bring it here with me?” Ford scoffed.

“WELL, I MEAN, YOU WERE STUPID ENOUGH TO TRUST ME.” Bill counted on his fingers. “AND TO THINK YOUR BROTHER WOULD ACTUALLY LISTEN TO YOU WHEN YOU CALLED FOR HELP. AND TO USE TOO MUCH GLUE WHEN YOU TRIED TO SEAL THE RIFT. SO YEAH. I DO THINK YOU’RE THAT STUPID.”

“Well I’m not.”

“OH, LEMME GUESS. YOU LEFT IT WITH PINETREE?”

“And with Grukle Stan!” Mabel added defiantly.

Bill snorted. “YEAH, ‘CUZ I’M REAL SCARED OF HIM!”

The possessed time traveler didn’t even get a derisive chuckle out before Soos barreled into him with a flying kick.

“Hey dude, I need you to pay attention to me for the next, I dunno, five to ten minutes?” He looked over at Ford. “D’you think that’s enough time?”

Ford just nodded mutely, unsure of how else to react to the handyman’s sudden entrance.

Bill picked his possessed body up off the ground. “YOU WANT ME TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU, QUESTION MARK? HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS ATTENTION?” He pulled out a time tape and disappeared in a flash, only to reappear a second later with a large carpenter’s hammer in his hand. He threw it at Soos, who dodged it with skills honed from ten years of karate sparring.

As Bill continued to pursue Soos, pulling out weapons from random time periods as he went, Ford pulled Mabel away, back towards the center of the dump. This was just the distraction they needed, it just happened in a different order than they’d been expecting.

So, her original plan to look for McGucket’s shelter from the top of a trash mountain wasn’t going to work now, but she could still find it, right? She remembered that a telephone pole had been one of the main support beams in the little hut, so she just needed to follow the telephone lines! Spotting one above, she rushed ahead, now pulling Ford instead of the other way around.

Sure enough, they came upon McGucket’s hovel nearby. Too nearby. They could still hear Soos doing his best to lead Bill on a wild goose-chase on the opposite side of a pile of discarded furniture and tires. But they could also hear a low, animal-like moan from inside the shelter. The two of them rushed across the clearing, hoping to reach the fox skin that acted as a door before Bill rounded the trash pile.

Before they could reach it, two things happened.

First of all, a loud, up-beat pop song started blaring out of Mabel’s pocket.

“Girl, oh girl, you got it all, you know.”

“But girl, oh girl, you don’t got me, no!”

Mabel slapped her forehead and pulled out her phone, trying to silence it. “Ugh, Pacifica! Bad timing!”

Second, Bill blew away the trash pile with a shot from a cannon, sending chunks of broken wood and plastic everywhere and clearing a path between him and the shelter.

“THERE YOU ARE!”

Mabel just barely managed to hold onto her phone as Ford grabbed her by the arm and practically threw her into the door. He hurtled in after her, but no second shot came. Instead, they heard a loud, frustrated groan.

“UUUGH, WHY DO YOU HUMANS MAKE WEAPONS THAT ARE SUCH A WASTE OF TIME? WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO HAVE TO REPACK THE GUNPOWDER AND ROLL IN ANOTHER BALL EVERY TIME YOU WANT TO SHOOT SOMETHING?”

“Well, it’s not that they thought it was a good idea, it’s just that they hadn’t developed the technology--” Ford started to explain when Mabel reached up and covered his mouth. He really couldn’t help himself sometimes, could he?

That same moan they’d heard before came again, louder, from under a pile of newspapers. Many of them had frantic calculations scribbled all over them. Ford reached down and brushed them aside, revealing a shivering, hyperventilating McGucket.

Mabel had seen McGucket be pretty crazy this summer. He’d jigged on an unplugged videogame for a week, ate his way out of a dinosaur, and claimed he preferred to walk backwards when she gave him a makeover. But she’d never seen him look so terrified and broken. His eyes were wide and unfocused, like he didn’t even notice they were there, and his breaths were coming in short, sharp whines. It was especially sad compared to the last time she’d seen him, when his mind really seemed like it was beginning to clear.

Ford looked down on his friend, absolutely devastated. If McGucket was looking bad compared to the last time Mabel had seen him, she could only imagine how he looked compared to the last time Ford saw him.

“Y’KNOW WHAT, I’M JUST GONNA GO BACK AND GET ANOTHER ONE THAT’S ALREADY LOADED.” They heard Bill whine, followed by the zap of the time tape being used.

McGucket moaned again at the sound of Bill’s voice, shutting his eyes tightly and clutching his head. That seemed to snap Ford out of his shock, and he reached down and scooped the old inventor into his arms.

“Let’s get out of here.” He told Mabel.

Just as they ran out the door, Bill reappeared in front of them with another cannon.

“UH-UH-UH! FOUR-EYES ISN’T GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL I GET WHAT I WANT, SIXER!”

“Just keep running!” Ford shouted to Mabel. They picked up the pace and just barely got out of the way in time to avoid the cannonball that ripped through McGucket’s shelter.

“Dudes, over here!” Soos called to them, where he was trying to finish reloading the other cannon Bill had abandoned after less than a minute of trying. “We can fight cannon with cannon!”

“There’s no time!” Ford barked. “We need to either get out of here or find cover!”

“Cover, huh?” Soos said thoughtfully, scratching his chin, until an idea popped into his head. “Oh! You’ve seen that old timey video of the dude who takes a cannonball to the stomach and it just bounces off of him? I’ve always wanted to try that!”

Ford and Mabel stared at him for a beat, dumbstruck.

“I say follow your dreams, Soos!” Mabel encouraged him.

“Yes, if you believe you’re capable, I see no reason not to give it a shot.” Ford agreed.

When Bill reappeared with another cannon, Soos stood squarely in front of it while Ford and Mabel made a run for the truck.

“OH, THIS OUGHTA BE GOOD!” Bill smirked as he fired.

Soos braced himself just as the cannonball collided with his stomach. While the iron ball did bounce off his gut and drop to the ground, Soos was also thrown back almost three feet. He landed on his back but the wind was already knocked out of him. As soon as he could move again, he rolled over and threw up.

“Ohhoho… dude…” the handyman muttered. “I knew that was probably gonna hurt, but it still hurt way worse than I was expecting. Ugh, I think I might’ve cracked a rib.”

No answer. Not even a mocking remark from Bill.

“Dudes?” He slowly got up to his feet and looked around. Ford and Mabel had run away, and Bill had chased after them. Oh well, at least Soos had bought them some time. He reached into his pocket to call his abuelita for a ride home, but alongside his phone, he felt another object. His truck keys. “Uh-oh.”

* * *

Despite Soos’s best efforts, Bill was still hot on their tail. Fiddleford squirmed weakly in Ford’s arms as they passed another mountain of garbage. His eyes seemed to briefly focus on Ford, but they looked far, far away.

“I’m jus’ barely gettin’ my mind back now, I don’t wanna lose it again...” The old inventor murmured feebly before resuming his catatonic state. It felt like someone had just stabbed Ford in the heart with an icy dagger, and he picked up the pace.

The sign above the dump’s exit soon came into view, but there were still several more piles of junk between here and there. As they fled, Mabel turned and fired her grappling hook at an old kitchen sink sticking half-way out the bottom of one of the larger junk piles behind them. The hook caught on the faucet and Mabel yanked back on the line hard, dislodging the kitchen sink and collapsing the garbage mountain in a landslide.

“Let’s see Bill blast his way through that!” She cheered.

Ford knew it was too soon to relax. As long as Bill was possessing this time travel agent, he had access to any weapon in human history, or humankind’s future, for that matter. Although, come to think of it, why hadn’t Bill used a weapon from the future on them yet? Perhaps that would draw the attention of the Time Paradox Avoidment Enforcement Squadron?

“There’s the truck!” Mabel exclaimed, bringing Ford out of his speculations. They skidded to a stop as they finally reached the vehicle and Ford tried to open the door.

It was locked.

Soos still had the keys.

Ford swore under his breath as he searched for something to pry the door open with. Yes, he could break into the truck, and yes, he could hotwire it, but that all took time! Time they didn’t have!

He was expecting Bill to step out of the dump any second now, but he didn’t appear. Instead, what at first glance appeared to be a flock of ravens rose out of the nearby woods. At the same time, Fiddleford thrashed in his arms and began to yell incoherently. Stanford tried to lay him in the back of the truck gently, so he wouldn’t drop him. The old researcher’s blood ran cold. It sounded almost identical to the gibberish his friend had spouted immediately after the failed first portal test.

As the mysterious flock drew near, Ford began searching for a rock, a golf club, anything he could use to break open the truck’s windows and get inside, all while keeping a close eye on the approaching swarm. As they came closer, he could see they weren’t birds, they were bats! But why would a swarm of bats take flight in the middle of the day? They were close enough to start blocking out the sun when Ford realized they weren’t bats. They were Eye-bats!

He pulled out his blaster and started firing into the swarm. “Mabel, find something to break into the truck with!”

She nodded and took a step back towards the dump, when Bill finally made his leisurely way to the exit. Ford couldn’t help but notice that Fiddleford’s cries stopped almost as soon as the possessed time traveler appeared.

“YOU FLESH-SACKS AREN’T GOING ANYWHERE!” Bill crowed. “NOT UNTIL I GET THAT RIFT! AFTER THAT, I HONESTLY COULDN’T CARE LESS.”

Just as Bill took another menacing step towards Mabel, Soos appeared, sledding down a trash mountain on a car door. He crashed into Bill and kept going until colliding into the side of his truck.

“Uh… I got the keys.” The handyman said in a daze, holding them up triumphantly.

Ford grabbed the keys and helped him up and into the shotgun seat. “I think I’d better drive.”

“Thanks dude, I appreciate it.” Soos said with a chuckle, then clutched his stomach. “Ooof, ugh, that’s… that’s definitely bruised.”

The truck zoomed away just as Bill rushed for the truck bed where Fiddleford was still laying. The swarm of Eye-bats descended on them, and Ford rolled down his window, steering with one hand and firing his blaster into the flock with the other. He knew it wasn’t exactly the safest position for his friend to be in, nearly unconscious in the bed of a speeding, reckless pickup truck, but he couldn’t exactly pull over and buckle him in next to Mabel. Not if they didn’t want to be overtaken by Eye-bats. The old researcher just had to hope that his old friend would be able to hold out until they reached the shield spell.

* * *

Stan was just sitting and watching tv like this was a perfectly normal day. Dipper wondered how he could possibly do it, just push all the danger and worry aside and vegg out like that. Sure, Stan wasn’t really invested in McGucket’s safety, but he had to care what might happen to Mabel, Ford, and Soos, right?

Of course, Dipper had known Stan long enough that he knew the old conman tended to express his emotions in a weird way. He teased and noogied to show affection, loaded on chores instead of compliments, and lied to the people he loved to try and keep them safe. Not to mention he’d spent the last thirty years trying to bring his lost brother home with an incredibly dangerous machine, while also pretending everything was normal. Maybe Stan was just really good at ignoring danger and worry by this point. And wow, that was a depressing thought.

Dipper kept vigilant watch out the front window, searching for any suspicious activity while also waiting anxiously for the return of Soos’s truck. He’d been sitting there for maybe fifteen minutes when the phone rang. It rang two more times, and Stan made no move to answer it. Dipper was unwilling to leave his post himself, but Stan was just watching old reruns of Baby Fights!

“Uh, Grunkle Stan?” Dipper called out after the fourth ring. Maybe he’d turned down his hearing aide?

“I hear it kid.” Stan grunted.

“Well, aren’t you going to get it!?”

“It’s probably just that triangular jerk, tryin’ to distract us. And if not, whoever it is can just leave a message.”

“But what if it’s Mabel or Soos?”

Dipper was distracted from his complaining when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A car was coming down the dirt road towards the Mystery Shack. The boy seriously doubted the rescue mission would be back already.

Stan got up with a grunt from his chair to see what had caught Dipper’s attention. “There, see? What’d I tell ya? Wouldn’t’ve noticed whoever this yahoo is if you’d been trying to listen in on me while I was on the phone. When you know somebody’s after ya, you gotta keep distractions to a minimum.”

“You were just watching TV!” the boy gestured back to the flickering CRT.

“Eh, it’s a rerun, I’m not really payin’ attention to it, just need something to calm my nerves.”

The mystery car drove out of the trees. It wasn’t a car at all, it was a limo. One Dipper recognized from the Northwest’s fleet.

“Well, this ain’t gonna be good.” Stan grimace.

“M-maybe it’s just Pacifica coming to ask for help again?” The boy said hopefully, although his heart wasn’t really in it.

Sure enough, the Northwest stepping out of the limo was Preston. He looked around like everything about the Shack was a personal insult to him before stepping up to the door and knocking with a gloved hand.

Stan grabbed the taxidermied fake dodo sitting on a small table in the corner and reached under its wing, pulling out a small handgun, which he held behind his back as he opened the door. Dipper wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the fact that his uncle was answering the door with a loaded gun in his hand. Sure, they were all in danger from Bill at the moment, but he really didn’t want Stan to go to jail for shooting one of the most important people in Gravity Falls, even if Preston probably deserved it.

“Whaddya want?” Stan asked gruffly.

Preston’s small, forced smile seemed painful. “Aheh, yes, well, I suppose I’ll get right to the point then. I’m here to purchase your… I suppose this qualifies as a business on some level? My opening offer is two million dollars for the building and the land it occupies.”

“Hah! Yeah, right!” Stan barked. “I wouldn’t sell this place to a scumbag like you for twenty million!”

“Well, how about fifty million?” Preston asked coolly.

Stan froze, his eyes wide. He stared the billionaire down, trying to decide if he was bluffing. It sure didn’t seem like a bluff to Dipper. The boy knew the Northwests threw that kind of money around like it was nothing, because to them, it was.

“Not for a hundred million.” Stan said, although it was less of a defiant denial and more of a fishing offer, trying to gauge how high Preston was willing to go.

“How about a hundred and fifty million?” Preston offered.

“Higher.” Stan shook his head.

“Grunkle Stan!?” Dipper cried indignantly.

“Ah-ah!” Stan pushed him back without even turning to look. “Not now kid, the grownups are talking.”

“Two hundred million?” Preston asked, his cool smile starting to slip.

Stan shook his head. “Uh-uh. Higher.”

“Three hundred million?” Mr. Northwest ventured again through clenched teeth.

“Higher!”

“F-five hundred million?”

“I’m thinking twice that much.”

“Seriously!?” Preston finally exploded. “You want a billion dollars for this--this hovel!?”

“Y’know what, you’re right.” Stan shook his head. “I’m not askin’ enough. Two billion!”

The Northwest patriarch looked like he very much wanted to strangle Stan.

“C’mon Northwest, I know you’re good for it!” Stan smirked.

“Absolutely not! Seven hundred and fifty million, and that’s my final offer!”

“Welp, my final offer’s still two billion, so you can either pony up or get off my porch.”

“....Fine.” Preston hissed, the veins in his forehead popping.

Stan stuck out his hand for Preston to shake, but as soon as the billionaire reached for it, the conman yanked it away.

“Psych!” Stan chortled. “Hah! I just wanted to see how far I could go before you chickened out! You couldn’t give me your whole dirty fortune for this place!”

It took Preston a moment to regain his composure. “I beg you to reconsider, Mr. Pines.” He said with a dangerous edge to his voice. “Take it from someone in the real estate business, property can lose value so quickly.”

“Yeah, the answer’s still no.” Stan said flatly. “Now get outta here. Don’t think I won’t call the cops!”

“I’m afraid you’ll find they’re busy at the moment. I just made a rather large donation so they’re holding a banquet. Even if you could pry them away from it, I doubt they’d be willing to arrest the man that just doubled their salary.”

“Oh, well, if you’re so sure the cops won’t be coming.” Stan pulled the gun out from behind his back.

Mr. Northwest finally backed off, although he shared a long glare with Stan before getting back into his limo. “This isn’t over, Pines!”

“Tell it to someone who cares!” Stan shouted after him.

Dipper looked up at his uncle with awe as he shut the door. “Grunkle Stan, that was awesome!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice you actually thought I was gonna take his offer.”

Dipper blushed and laughed sheepishly.

The old conman sighed as he sat back down in his recliner. “Eh, guess I can’t blame you. I was actually tempted for half a second. Then I remembered that guy’s a lying cheating crook, and he wasn’t gonna actually pay anything for this place. Still, two billion dollars, wouldn’t that be somethin’!”

“Grunkle Stan, no amount of money is worth the end of the world as we know it.” Dipper reminded him sharply.

“I know that!” Stan retorted, insulted. “I’m just sayin’, if I’d been able to trick him outta that much, heh, that would’ve been the con of a lifetime.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Dipper stammered, taking up his watch at the window again. “I shouldn’t doubt you. I’m just… I’m just really worried, y’know. Bill’s using more and more people to try and get at the rift. The Northwests are the most powerful people in town. You got him to leave for now, but he’s probably gonna hire thugs or something.”

“I know you’re worried, kid.” Stan said sadly. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about all this junk, but at the very least, you don’t gotta worry about this. I’ve had to hole up against hired thugs in this Shack before. ‘Course, this time I’m not gonna be able to fake my death to get ‘em to give up and go home.”

Dipper grimaced. This conversation wasn’t really reassuring him.

Stan sighed again. “Look, bud, I know Bill’s got a lot of people in his pocket, but time’s on our side, right? Eventually, that glue you found is gonna set, and then what’s he gonna do? Besides, you and your sister are going home next weekend anyway, and then you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Dipper turned to look back at his uncle. “I’ll still worry about you. And Ford. And everyone else left here in Gravity Falls.”

Stan felt his heart swell when he realized how much the boy cared about him. It didn’t matter if he was safe, if his family was still in danger. Stan was all too familiar with that feeling, and he didn’t like the thought of this twelve-year-old kid being burdened with it.

“Well then, we’re just gonna have to figure something out then, aren’t we?”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanford Pines #Mabel Pines #soos ramirez #Stanley pines #Dipper Pines #My Writing

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years

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Doppelgänger (9/?)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Lucky in Love, Part 2}

Danny glanced over his shoulder as he led Valerie through the park.

“What are you looking at?”

“I just… thought I heard something,” he lied, turning back to her. “How about we find a quiet place to sit?”

She smiled and leaned into him. “A quiet, private place, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Johnny better hurry up.

As he led her towards an empty part of the park, Danny checked his phone. Still nothing from his partners. He really hoped this wouldn’t come to a fight. The last thing he needed after all this was Johnny or his girlfriend finding out he was half-ghost.

Guys, we really need to talk. Please answer, he texted them. After a moment, he started another text. Come to the park, Joh-

“What are you doing?”

Danny closed his phone without sending the text. “Just texting Sam and Tucker.”

She grabbed it from him and put it in her pocket. “Don’t think about them right now. You’re with me.”

“Right. Do you want to get some ice cream?”

She smiled and dragged him over to a tree, pinning him against it. “I think I’d like something a little sweeter.”

Danny turned his head and pressed his back against the tree. “I don’t think -”

She grabbed his chin and brought their faces together. “Don’t think then.”

The sound of a motorcycle washed over them and she pressed their lips together.

“Hey!”

Her response to Johnny’s shout was to press closer to Danny and try to force her tongue into his mouth. He pushed her off before she could and then Shadow was dragging her away.

“Get off me! Danny, help!”

He ignored her, turning to Johnny. “Took you long enough.”

Likewise, Johnny ignored him as Shadow dropped Valerie next to his bike. “Come on, Kitty. Quit wigging out and come back to me. I’ll be good.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, low life.” She turned to Danny and he held up his hands.

“Forget it, Kitty. Your boyfriend already sold you out.”

She pouted at him then glared at the biker. “Beat it, Johnny. I’m Danny’s girl now.”

“No one’s my girl,” he muttered, leaning back against the tree and crossing his arms.

“You know I love you, babycakes.” Johnny took her hand and knelt. He glanced at Danny with a pinched expression, but forced it off to smile up at Valerie. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were anything but the only girl for me.”

She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pull away.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a bouquet of blood-red glowing chrysanthemums and a box. Holding them up to her, he said, “We were made for each other, Kitty. There’s no other girl I’d want to spend the rest of my afterlife with.”

She took the box and opened it. Her eyes widened as she pulled out a familiar silver knife with an iridescent green blade.

Danny stood up straight, “Did you steal that from my parent’s lab?”

“It’s beautiful,” Kitty said, running her thumb along the dull edge.

“Just like you,” Johnny said and she smiled.

He stood up and they hugged. Then she grabbed the back of his head and shot him a look. “No more checking out other girls?”

“I’ll do my best.” He cupped her cheek. “Do you want to finish this conversation back home?”

Her eyes went half-lidded then Kitty was slipping out of her. Danny shot forward to catch Valerie before she could hit the ground as Kitty stuck the knife into her boot and took the flowers. Johnny and Kitty climbed onto the bike and Shadow slipped into his place beneath Johnny. The biker revved his bike and hit a button on the handlebars.

A portal opened in front of them.

“You can ride in and out of the Ghost Zone whenever you want now?”

Johnny smirked and winked. “Later, kid. Thanks for the help.”

Then they were gone.

“Note to self, track them down and kick his butt later.”

Valerie groaned in his arms and he looked down. “Danny?”

“Hey, Val. How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” She sat up and looked around. “What are we doing in the park?”

“You were overshadowed.”

“WHAT?” She leapt to her feet, reaching for her backpack, only to realize she wasn’t wearing it.

“It’s alright,” he said, climbing to his own feet. “They’re gone.”

“You-you got rid of them?” she said.

“Is that so hard to believe?” he chuckled, then shrugged. “I knew the ghost. Well, technically I know the ghost’s boyfriend. I managed to get him to get her out and take her back to the zone.”

She blinked, then smiled. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Kind of. I’ve got no plans if you want to hear it.”

“Over dinner? I’m starving.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny took a deep breath then walked towards where his partners were standing by Sam’s locker.

Tucker spotted him first and the two turned to him as he came to a stop a few feet away.

There was a moment of silence then they all said, “I’m sorry.”

They laughed.

“Really, I’m sorry. You guys were right, I shouldn’t have put myself in danger like that,” Danny said. “Especially since I risked your secrets too.”

“We’re sorry too.” Tucker threw an arm around the smaller boy. “We know better than anyone how protective you are of… well, everyone. We should have been more understanding.”

“You guys were just worried about me.”

“We were being overprotective,” Sam said. “And overly possessive. We should have trusted you more. Both with Shadow and with Valerie.”

“I was being reckless.”

Danny was shocked when she grabbed his shoulders and kissed his cheek. While his partners appreciated his kisses, they’d never returned the favor. He didn’t mind since they had their own ways of showing affection, but it was kind of nice being on the receiving end.

“You had to make a quick decision and you worked with what you had. We should have respected that more. You’re our partner, Danny.”

Tucker wrapped his other arm around Sam and pulled them all together. “So Danny will try to be more careful from now on and we’ll try to be more understanding about the Valerie thing, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Yeah, agreed.”

They melted against each other for a moment before pulling away.

“So how’d it go with your new girlfriend anyways?” Tucker asked.

“For the last time, she’s not my girlfriend,” Danny said.

“You might think that, but she -”

“Was overshadowed by Johnny’s girlfriend,” Danny finished, crossing his arms, and his partners’ eyes widened.

“What?”

“His girlfriend, Kitty, overshadowed Valerie at the waterpark. That’s why his shadow attacked, he was trying to track her down.”

Tucker shook his head as Sam grabbed his shoulder and looked him over.

“When did you find this out? Why didn’t you call us?” she asked.

“I tried.”

They flinched.

“Oh, man.”

“Sorry, Danny.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, guys. Nothing happened. Johnny came to me when he found out Kitty was hanging around me. Apparently he ticked her off so she was using me to make him jealous or something. I got him to apologize and they both went back to the zone.”

Tucker started snickering. Sam shot him a look, but that only made him start laughing for real.

“It’s not funny, Tucker.”

“Is… too,” he said between laughs and Danny felt his own lips twitching up.

“Danny?” The trio turned to see Valerie walking up hesitantly. “Am I interrupting? I can come back later.”

Sam’s face went blank and she marched up to the other girl.

Valerie’s face went blank as well and she stood firm.

“I still don’t trust you.” She glanced back at the boys and sighed. She held her hand out to Valerie. “But I’m willing to give you a chance, for Danny’s sake.”

Valerie’s eyes widened and darted to the blue-eyed boy before she took the hand. “For Danny.”

Tucker came over and draped his arm over Sam’s shoulders. He gave a smile the boys had learned from Sam. “Of course, if you prove us right and hurt Danny, no one will find your body.”

Valerie crossed her arms. “I would never hurt him.”

“Then we won’t have a problem,” Sam said with a matching smile.

{Maternal Instinct}

Sam tossed a ball of ectoplasm back and forth as she floated over her partners, who were both staring intently at spots across the lab from themselves.

“Are we done yet?”

They both ignored her.

A minute passed, then Danny disappeared in a swirl of red comets.

Only to reappear in another swirl a foot in front of where he had been standing.

Danny frowned and looked around.

“Did we even move? A little.”

Sam rolled over onto her stomach and let the ball dissipate.

“That was better than last time. But still nothing compared to when Ember or Vlad teleport. At least we’ve been able to do something.”

Tucker was still staring at his spot.

Sam rolled her eyes.

“As we’ve said, teleportation has to be a one of us thing. It fits the space theme. It’s not fair for it to be a one of us thing.”

Tucker pointed at himself, then Sam, then Danny.

“Technokinesis, chlorokinesis, and pocket dimension creation. One each. Maybe it’s two each and we just don’t know it yet.”

Tucker and Sam turned to Danny, who shrugged.

“We found out about teleportation by accident. Maybe we haven’t discovered all our powers. That makes sense. Good thing we have the whole weekend to -”

“Hey Danny!”

The trio quickly transformed, Sam dropping to the ground in a roll and popping up to her feet next to her partners as Danny’s mom slid into the lab.

“Pack your bags! We're going to a mother-son science symposium in Florida! Doesn't that sound fun?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam looked up as Tucker floated through her wall.

“Animal ghosts? Animal ghosts!” they said and Tucker dropped onto her bed.

“There were seven of them this time,” he said after he transformed, voice muffled by her pillow. “Two got past me and Mr. Fenton saw them so now he and Jazz are going full ghost hunter. We might have to just leave them to it unless you want to risk getting hit.”

“We want to know where they’re coming from. And why they’re attacking the Fentons. Any word from us?”

“Nah. I tried calling him again on the way back, but it went straight to voicemail. Maybe his mom confiscated his phone for the trip.”

“Hope we’re at least having fun.”

“Doubtful.” Tucker looked up at her. “Unless NASA haaaaaa-Sam!”

“Yes?”

“Why do you have two heads?” he squeaked, glancing between the two heads sticking up from her shoulders.

“We tried to see if we could duplicate. Good news, we can. Bad news, we need practice… We also might be stuck.”

Tucker sat up, throwing his hands in the air. “First Danny can teleport, now you can duplicate! This is so unfair.”

“We might be able to duplicate.”

He shook his head. “I’ve tried. I got nothing. Just like for teleportation, pyrokinesis, shapeshifting, sonic attacks, and talking to animals.”

“We tried all that?”

“And none of it worked.”

She reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “Sorry. Maybe there’s something we haven’t thought of yet.”

He sighed and stood up. “Maybe. Let’s just get you fixed up before your mom finds you like that.”

“We almost wish she would.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tucker and Sam stared at their partner as he finished his story.

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“That’s it, you’re not allowed to take any more trips out of state without us,” Sam said, pulling him into a hug. “I’m going to feed that fruit loop to Audrey II.”

“I can’t believe he stole your powers then set his animals on you. What happened to making you his son?” Tucker asked.

“He still wants me to be his son. I don’t know how he thought sicking his ghosts on me would help.”

“That’s really messed up,” Tucker said. His fists clenched as he imagined Danny, running for his life through some forest in the middle of nowhere. No technology to help. No partners. Just alone and scared. All because of a man who claimed he wanted to be his father.

“Uh, Tucker, you might want to calm down.”

“Calm down? How can I calm down, Sam? The fruit loop did all that to Danny and we weren’t even there to help him! Aren’t you mad? How can you even ask me that?” he growled, glaring at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Because I don’t want you to destroy Danny’s room.”

“What?”

Danny grabbed Tucker’s chin and turned his head so he could see the books, model rockets, and video games hovering a few inches off his bookshelf, a neon purple glow surrounding them.

Tucker blinked and they dropped back into place.

He turned back to his partners to see them smiling at him. “Did I do that?”

“Guess we figured out your power,” Danny chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“How did you not check telekinesis? That’s peak poltergeist right there,” Sam added, shaking her head.

{Life Lessons, Part 1}

“There they are, the prey that got away. I hope you've enjoyed your freedom, children, because Skulker has returned to finish the hunt,” Skulker muttered to himself as he watched the three halfas fly towards their school. All he needed was for them to split for just a moment, then he could pick them off one by one.

Suddenly a blast shot at the group and they scattered.

“What? A weapon was fired? By someone other than me?” He looked around and spotted a human flying towards the trinity on a hoverboard.

“Thought I'd forgot about you, ghost?”

“No, but we’d hoped you had.” The three shared a look then two darted off while the last went to engage the girl.

“They all seem formidable. Maybe I should hunt the girl,” Skulker mused as the halfa was knocked down by one of the human’s blasts. The halfa retaliated with a blast that knocked her off her board, the device having to swoop down to catch her on its own. “Of course, I have sworn a blood oath to have the ghost children’s pelts on my wall.”

“Look, we don't want to hurt you!” the halfa said, voice soft and pleading as they watched her regain her footing.

“What makes you think you can!” she shot back and pulled out a large blaster.

The halfa warped their body around the blast then fired at the gun, destroying it.

“I should force a contest between the hunter girl and one of the ghost children. And to the winner, the honor of me using their skull as a tetherball!” Skulker decided.

A bell rang out and both looked down at the school they were flying over.

“Later for you, punk!” the human announced and flew off.

“Yeah, bye Val,” the halfa sighed and flew off.

“That’s interesting,” Skulker hummed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valerie scowled down at her new child as they left the class.

“You okay?” Danny asked and she sighed.

“Yes, it’s just… My grades are in the toilet and I really need to pass this class, but I just got a new job so I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with this.”

“New job?”

“Yeah. It cuts into my hunting time, but I want to help my dad with the bills and save up for college.”

“I understand.” He took the flour sack from her. “You know, it is a partner assignment. I can take care of it if you’re busy.”

“I can’t ask that of you. We should be sharing the work evenly.”

He shrugged. “What are friends for? Besides, I’ve got Sam and Tucker if I need help. I can even come by after you’re done and drop it off if you want.”

“You sure,” she asked, frowning when the sack started to cry.

He frowned down at the sack unsurely, but nodded. “Yeah, it’s not like I have a job so it will be like you’re the working parent and I’m a stay at home dad.”

“You’re the best,” she said, hugging him. “I’ll let you know the moment I’m off then we can meet up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #valerie gray #danny fenton #Doppelgänger au

9 notes · View notes

mintea-in-space · 4 years

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Tar in His Veins Part 1 of ?

Just as a warning, this fic will deal with suicide. I’m just gonna put it right up front. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. There isn’t anything in this chapter, post, thing, but it will be prominent in this fic.

Lydia Deetz stood on the sidewalk. It had been a year, an entire year, since the events she fondly called the Juicening. And life was good! She had started school, and made friends just as strange as she was. Her grades were high, and she loved her teachers. There were a few boring classes, but there always are. And she loved her family. Her ghost mom and dad, her step mom, and her dad. They were happy. She was happy. And although she still wore black, her heart was lighter. And so she stood, face turned to the sun, and smiled.

And then she thought about him.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. He was sporadic, funny, and listened to her when no one else would. It would be a complete lie if she said she never thought about summoning him.

But....

He had said he was going on a journey.

What was it he called it? A spirit quest?

To find his dad. Frowning Lydia recalled that moment, remembering that even as he said the words, she knew he didn’t believe them. That he just needed an excuse to leave. Because why would he want to stay?

Maybe he wanted to make an entrance, he did love his theatrics. Or maybe he was busy! Surely if he wanted to come back he would have already, right? He was probably living it up in the netherworld, fucking with people and making crude comments and-

And sickening thwap broke through her thoughts.

The sound of a wet body hitting the sidewalk.

Lydia froze.

It was broad daylight in butt fuck Connecticut.

These things didn’t just happen. In fact, they never happened. And Lydia kept telling herself this, telling herself she imagined it, knowing that she hadn’t, even before she turned around.

And then she screamed.

The first thing Lydia noticed was his hair.

Shock white.

Deadly white

And the sickening streaks of yellow. She had never seen white before but she knew what that yellow meant.

Self-loathing.

The second thing she noticed was the black.

She told herself it looked like muck, or tar, knowing that it wasn’t.

Knowing that it was blood.

Lydia feel to her knees. Choking back a sob, she flipped her bffff forever on his back.

His eyes were open, thank whatever god was up there, but they were vacant. Staring at nothing. And more black. It dropped down his chin, covered his chest. The once striped jacket now the color of tar.

“Beej come on,” she shook him gently. “Come on say something please. Beej! BEEJ!!”

Hands clutching his collar, she cried.

“Please say something. Anything.”

Nothing.

Shaking, she pulled his head onto her lap, cradling it. She yanked her phone out of her pocket. And called the one number she knew could help her.

“Lydia!” Delia’s cheery voice broke through the phone.

“How are you hun? You’re heading home now right? Did you want me to pick y-“

A strangled sob burst from the girl’s throat.

“Mom.”

All movement on the other side of the phone stopped.

“Lydia.” It was said with barely contained panic.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I”

And the flood gates broke.

“Mom there’s black! It’s everywhere and I can’t stop it and he won’t talk to me Mom it’s everywhere he’s gonna die and it’s everywhere and I can’t get him to say anything and I can’t move him by myself and he’s gonna die!”

“Lydia. Where are you?”

Lydia scrubbed at her eyes, and looked at the street sign.

“Off blackberry and hazel.”

“Listen to me. Don’t move. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

Delia’s car screeched to a stop next to the side walk. Practically flinging herself out of the car, she fell to her knees and grabbed her step daughter’s shoulders. She looked horrible. There was black covering her hands, and her lap, and a streak of it across her cheek.

She didn’t even see him at first, too focused on my daughter to even look for him. But when she noticed that Lydia was fine, she frantically searched the side walk. Finally, he shimmered into view like a mirage and

“HOLY SHIT!”

She didn’t remember much about the demon that terrorized her and her family, but she knew that this was bad. The black blood seemed to just, keep coming. Even as it pooled around him and Lydia. And his hair.

Wasn’t it red before? Or green?

A strangled sound forcing its way out of Lydia’s mouth made her snap her eyes back to her daughter’s face.

“Mom. I can’t move him. I can’t do it my self I-“

“Shhh.”

Delia stood, and pulled a blanket from the trunk of her car.

“Help me get this under him, and then we can lift together all right?”

Lydia nodded.

Delia thought her heart was about to explode. As calm as she was on the outside, she was absolutely panicking on the inside. Her ears were ringing, and she barely registered Lydia rolling him onto the blanket. The two girls hoisted the demon into the back seat of the car, and Lydia crawled in after him. Placing his head on her lap, she began running her fingers through his hair. Muttering. Whispering words that Delia couldn’t hear.

Climbing back behind the wheel, Delia Deetz proceeded to break just about every traffic law known to man.

The Maitlands were simply sitting in the attic, enjoying the peaceful day and each other’s company. Adam had begun making a model of the town, and he and Barb were softly talking about the dimensions of the hardware store.

All was calm.

Until the sound of screeching tires and the front door slamming open abruptly silenced them both.

“ADAM BABARA WE’RE GONNA NEED YOUR HELP IN A MINUTE!”

Delia’s voice screamed through the house, panic in her voice evident.

The two ghosts looked at each other, fear dawning on their faces, and raced down the stairs to the living room.

Adam yelped. Barbara let out a strangled gasp and grabbed her husband’s arm.

Beetlejuice was laid out on their couch.

And he didn’t look good.

Lydia still had his head in her lap, stroking his hair and quietly sobbing. Delia was flitting through the house, and when she passed by they could hear her muttering to herself, grabbing crystals and bottles. Barbara moving first, taking Adam with her.

“Lydia, sweetheart. What happened?”

“He just fell,” she croaked. “Right on the sidewalk. Ghost mom he’s not answering me and he’s bleeding and I can’t make him stop and-“

The ghost wrapped her arms around the girl.

“Whatever this is, we’re going to figure out. I’m sure that Delia has a book, or something that can help. Or maybe you do? We’ll find it if we have one, Lydia he’s going to be okay.”

The goth shook her head.

“He’s not though! He’s not.. he’s going to be really dead and it’ll be my fault again and-“

This time Adam moved, gently cradling her face in his hands.

“Lydia. Listen to me. He will be okay. We are going to help him. I swear. He’s going to be okay.”

He was trying to convince himself as much as he was Lydia.

Beetlejuice never looked so...

Dead.

His face was pale, and those eyes that always glittered with mischief were dull. Even his hair looked bland. Faded almost. The hands that would twitch with excitement. The mouth that always had a toothy grin.

It was all gone.

The demon couldn’t have been more still.

It was so... not Beetlejuice.

“OKAY!”

Delia burst back into the room, a book in one hand and a bowl of crystals and vials in the other.

“Okay! I’m going to try a healing spell. I don’t know if it will work, this is human stuff for humans and it might not work for demons and-“

Barb put a steady hand on the frazzled woman’s shoulder.

“Right. Okay. This is the best I can do. First, he needs a little first aid.”

If the mood had been lighter, Lydia would have rolled her eyes. As it was, however, she snapped to attention.

“Lydia, I need you to get his jacket off and press it to the wound.” Adam leaned over and helped the teen, carefully maneuvering him out of the jacket.

“Okay. Okay. Uh, Barbara, I need you to place these quartz’s in a circle around the couch, and then you and Adam need to stand back please.”

Barbara did as was asked, then gently pulled Adam with her out of the circle.

Delia took one of the vials, and made a circle, connecting each of the stones Barbara had placed.

And now for the hard part.

“Lydia,” she began to worry her bottom lip.

“Lydia I need you to come out of the circle.”

At that the teen snapped her head to glare at her step mom.

“I’m not. Leaving him.”

It was said through gritted teeth, rage and fear simmering under the surface.

“Lydia, have you properly summoned him yet?”

She blanched.

“No, I, I didn’t think of it.”

Delia sighed.

“Then I need you out of the circle. I need to bring him into the world of the living, I think, in order for this to work. And I don’t know if he’ll be in control, or what will happen.”

Lydia stares back at the demon in her lap, then let out a shaky breath.

“Only if you let me say it.”

With a nod from Delia, she gently placed his head on the couch, and stood.

As she brushed past Delia, she muttered,

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Me too honey. Me too.

“Lydia, you can say his name now.”

The name tumbled out of her so fast it was almost a blur.

“BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE!!”

And hell broke loose.

#mintea writes #fanfic #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #sorry not sorry #this has been in my head for too long #so uh #yeah #tw blood #definitely #not beetlebabes #tihv

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sparklyricee · 4 years

Text

Episode 1a: Honeymoon Phase....Ugh!

It’s been about a month since the two dimensions collide. Earth and Mewni were one, and magic was successfully destroyed. Everyone was together, although people were still getting used to seeing monsters, walking around their neighborhood and there being four moons instead of one, things were starting to come together little by little.

A group of four teenagers were sitting at a table at Britta’s Tacos, having their weekly lunch together. At one end there was Tom, eating his taco with the hot sauce he puts on every bite.Janna sitting next to him, almost done with her’s and looking annoyed at the other two sitting on the other side of her. Star and Marco, wrapping their arms around each other and giggling.

Sure, Janna wasn’t being bitter about their relationship, it was just that they were doing this since they got here. Janna eyed Tom, who as well tried not to looked annoyed, putting on a fake smile and tried to make conversation.

“So uh..is there anything planned for today? Going to the movies or maybe play board games?” Tom asked. He really couldn’t of anything that the four of them could do without someone complaining or getting bored.

“Well, actually Star and I were gonna go to the zoo..I guess we should’ve told you we were going on a date later.” Marco explained.

“Oh no no! Don’t worry about it, Janna and I were just uhh.. Gonna go explore a bit and just wanted to know if you guys were free.” Tom said putting his hand on Janna’s shoulder.

This made Janna more irritated, not only there was physical contact she wasn’t expecting, but..he was lying, big time. Janna decided to keep her mouth shut since she promised herself that she would be nicer this year, but boy, this was going to be difficult.

“Oh well, okay! That works out then. We do feel bad that we didn’t tell you..” Star said before finally taking a bite of her taco.

“No, it’s okay. It all worked out so there’s no worries. Right Janna?” Tom said looking down at the filipina girl. He still had a nervous fake smile on his face, he knew this was a really...awkward situation. Especially since Janna didn’t not like being touched. She still didn’t look too happy. “Hands off dude.” She said. Tom quickly does so.

“Well, it’s almost 1:30, so I guess we better get going.” Marco said to Star as he crumpled up his wrapper and other trash he had. Star decided to take her taco with her for on the way. “ We’ll catch you guys later!” Star said as they both walk away from the demon and the bluenette.

“See you guys later! Have a good time!” Tom said waving them goodbye.

As soon as they weren’t hearing distance, Tom sighed heavily and rested the side of his face on his hand. “ Ya know, I’m as irritated as you are, but you could’ve at least TRIED to look happy for them.” Tom said.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to lie. They’ve been going on dates and leaving early to do things together ever since they’ve become an item.”Janna complained.

Tom sighed again. “I know,they’re in their ...Honeymoon Phase.”

“Ugh, well, I guess I’m finished with this now..Are we actually gonna do something or did you just not want them to feel bad..?” Janna asked.

“Well, both kinda..Did you have anything in mind?” Tom answered.

“Well, you did say something about exploring this place a bit. That could be fun.” Janna said finishing up her taco. Tom finished his and crumpled up his wrapper. The two don’t normally hang out much. They seem to still butt heads with their different behaviors. But it was worth another shot since the last time the two of them hung out they were almost killed by a giant monster bird.

“Oh, okay! Well I guess it’s settled then. Let’s go see what’s new around here!” Tom said standing up.

This was gonna be an interesting time for the both of them.

On the walk to..wherever they decided to go, it was a kind of awkward since again, they don’t really hang out much and don’t really have a lot to talk about. Not making it any better that they’re both socially awkward and striking up a conversation with someone you don’t know that well is nearly impossible.

However, Tom takes the leap of faith and tries to start one.

“Sooooo, how’s life treatin’ you?” Tom asked awkwardly. Janna gave him a “are you serious?’ face.

This wasn’t starting well.

“It’s fine, I guess.” She said. Her face didn’t show it, but she was also having trouble finding something to talk about. She didn’t dislike Tom, she had no reason to. He was a cool dude, but man he was almost as bad at starting conversations as she was. She kinda felt bad.

They started their way towards the monster castle where Star’s room was still visible. Janna’s heart dropped when she looked in that direction, for various reasons. But to distract her from her thoughts she had to think of something to talk about.

“What do you think Meteora’s title would’ve been if none of this happened?” Janna asked. This caught Tom by surprise, he didn’t expect her to ask something like that. Then again, she was very invested in Eclipsa’s family and history so maybe he shouldn't be.

“Uh well, maybe like..Meteora the Returned? Since ya know, she was technically a lost princess at first.” He said.

“Yeah, that does make sense.” She said. Tom was relieved that there was an attempt, but still was a bit of an uncomfortable silence after that. He started to worry that if she was mad at him or if she felt pressured to hang out with him again. Even though she was in the same position, but he didn’t know that. He can’t read minds, let alone there’s no magic for that to happen.

“Dude, check it out.” The bluenette gasped pointing at a house figured shadow. Yes, of course she finds something mysterious and creepy to explore. Before he knew it she bolted towards the shadow and almost lost where she was.

“Hey! Wait up!” Tom exclaimed starting to run after her.

“Ah! Look how cute those pandas are!!” Star exclaimed. The pandas were sitting in their caged area, eating bamboo. They really didn't have to do much more than be adorable. “Yeah, too bad there aren’t many of them left.” Marco said sadly.

There was a few seconds of silence until Star turned to Marco frowning. “Marco...I really do feel bad for not telling them. It just feels like we ditched them.” Star said.

“Yeah...It kinda does feel that way doesn’t it? But it seemed like they had plans anyways?” Marco said while taking pictures of the pandas. “Yeah but, we do this..a lot. Like we leave to do our own stuff when we’ve promised both of them that we would all hang out more.” Star explained.

Marco put his phone down and looked at Star. They didn’t really think about it that way but, Star was right. It does seem like they ditch them a lot. Realizing this felt like a mental slap to the face, and why did they just realize this?

Marco put his hand on Star’s shoulder. “Maybe we should talk to them about it when we’re done then.” He said with a little smile. Star smiled back. “Yeah, I feel like that would be the right thing to do.” She said.

They intertwined their fingers together and continued their zoo date.

This house in the depths of a creepy forest. The trees were moldy and dark purple goo was dried up in certain areas of the branches. Tom found the house they were looking at. It seemed really poorly built with all the wood being crooked and off white paint chipped and parts of it put on unevenly. Windows were mostly shattered and even had mold on it as well on the frames. Seemed like a typical old abandoned house, now the issue was is that Janna was nowhere to be found.

“Janna?” Tom called out. Maybe he shouldn’t be so loud. Maybe that might set off some trap or some crazy person might come out of nowhere and try to kill him. Tom kept walking in circles and started tensing up. What if he couldn’t find her? What if she was kidnapped and didn’t realize it? What would he do then?

His mind started running with worrisome thoughts, to the point where his heart started racing and breathing heavy. He can hear his heart pound so loudly it was too loud..

“Hey.”

“AHH” Tom yelled and whipped around to see who it was. Almost gave him a heart attack.

It was Janna, standing there right in front of him.

“Dude where did you go? I’ve been looking for you everywhere?” Janna complained.

Tom looked at her in shock. “What do you mean?! You darted off and I tried catching up to you and then you were gone!”

“Tom, I did not go that far- YOU ran passed me when I slowed down for you to catch up!” Janna raised her voice.

“Janna, I saw you right in front of me the whole time until you just..suddenly disappeared.” Tom said more concerned.

There was definitely something fishy going on in this forest. Janna swore on her life that she slowed down for him to catch up. Realizing this made her suspicious. “Dude I swear I stopped for you.” She said.

Tom was starting to realize this himself. Usually if Janna was pulling a stunt she would’ve admitted it by now. Or wouldn’t look so worrisome herself.

“Look, let’s just skim this house and bounce out of here. Something’s weird about this forest.” Janna said as she started to walk off. “Wait!” Tom exclaimed. “We need to stay close, I have a feeling this forest is trying to seperate us for a reason.”

Janna opens the door to the old moldy house. There wasn’t much but a table, stove, and a dirty bathtub. Again they planned on not staying there for long so looked over everything as quickly as they could. There wasn’t really anything to investigate and they dared not to look in the other two rooms in the hallway. However, Janna did come across something on the table.

“It looks like bits of pages of a book.”She said handing one of the pieces to Tom. He knew he couldn’t take a good look at it so he shoved them in his pants pocket. Janna froze for a moment. There was something painfully familiar with what she was looking at. She couldn’t really read it but, she’s seen the writing before.

“Janna? Are you okay?” Tom asked. Her eyes widened and turned to his direction. “Dude..doesn’t this look like the b-”

Before she could finish her sentence the door slammed shut. Leaving the demon boy and the filipina girl in the dark of the room. Both of them froze in fear. Tom carefully inches his way closer to Janna so they don’t get separated again. Suddenly they hear whispers from all around the room, again the voice seeming very familiar.

Trespassers must die!

Trespassers musT DIE!

Both of them terrified, grabbing each others arms look up and see a shadow of human like figure crawling on the ceiling, repeating the chant but now more aggressively.

TRESPASSERS MUST DIE!

The figure than hissed at them and was ready to attack. Janna and Tom had no idea what to do, they couldn’t use magic or any powers in fact. Janna had one thing on her but she was afraid it wouldn’t work. But she knew it was worth the risk.

The figure launched towards and before it could reach them,

“CHICKENBUTT!”

Janna snapped her fingers as quick as she could and threw her arms above her so the hypnosis would affect it. The figure stopped in mid air for a split second and then collapsed to the ground. Janna looked down at it once again trying to figure out who or what it could be.But before she could say anything Tom pulled her out to the door. “ Come on, we need to leave, now!” Tom said.

The person or thing that tried to hurt, still remains a mystery.

The four teenagers all met up at Janna’s house, they were in her room. Star and Marco wanted to talk about something really important. But so did Janna and Tom.

“Guys, I..we’re really sorry that we keep leaving early in the middle of our plans. We didn’t realize how frequently it’s been happening.” Star started.

Janna was sitting on her bed, “Yeah, but it’s been like every week you guys have done this. Just say you have plans and we can just figure out another day for all of us to hang out.” She said.

“Yeah, we plan things a little better, we promise we’re not meaning to ditch you guys or anything.” Marco adds.

Janna and Tom looked at each other, they were glad Star and Marco were clarifying things, but they had something else on their minds.

Tom told Star and Marco about the forest they stumbled upon and the incident of losing Janna while wondering around.

“Hmm, that sounds familiar.” Star said, Then it came to her why it sounded familiar. “Guys, you were in the Forest of Hallucinations.” she added.

It was starting to make sense why Janna and Tom were having trouble finding each other, they were starting to hallucinate, but what explained the unknown thing that tried to kill them? Was that a hallucination?

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense, wasn’t that forest demolished decades ago?” Tom asked.

“Yeah but, the only way it would’ve recreated itself is by magic.” Star said looking concerned.

There was a dead silence for a few seconds, Star’s eyes widened and suddenly started walking to the door.

“Come on Marco, we need to go talk to Eclipsa.” Star said.

Before Janna or Tom could say anything, they were gone. Janna turned to Tom and grabbed the pieces of ripped pages out of her jacket pocket. Tom did the same.

“This is from the book of spells isn’t it?” Janna said.

“It kinda looks like it.” Tom responded.

The two looked up at each other, Janna looked at the door and then back at Tom.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to tell Star yet.”

#Janna Ordonia #tom lucitor #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #Janna vs the forces of earth-ni #jvtfoe

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thememcry · 4 years

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↳ @sweettifalockhart asked, “ Aerith and Tifa for that ship meme 8D ” ------ultimate ship meme! // accepting.

General:

How long will they last? - let’s step back and consider this for a moment. tifa and aerith have always been plagued with the ideal that they’re fighting over cloud. but maybe cloud was just standing in the way of a love that would transcend dimensions? anyway. i think tifa and aerith are endgame material. follow the pattern for the lord of the rings and show us where they’ll be in the future? living in aerith’s gorgeous house secluded in sector 5 with flowers, tended by all the kids they adopted, while they hold hands on the porch and reminisce about their adventuring days.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - their chemistry is immediate. it’s obvious that they have a connection from the moment they actually speak to one-another. i think it’s a quick one. you get these girls together and they just feed affection and positive vibes off of each other. feelings definitely form fast.

How was their first kiss? - soft. soft because both girls are bad bitches in their own right, but they’re seeing and dealing with hard things and they deserve something completely gentle and sweet to counter-balance the literal nightmare fuel in their lives.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - aerith.

Who is the best man/men? - cloud.

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - jessie or marlene.

Who did the most planning? - it was an equal effort opportunity.

Who stressed the most? - probably tifa. i see aerith being very laid back about it.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - outside of the usual suspects (lol the don), nobody was specifically barred from coming.

Sex:

Who is on top? - they switch. it depends on the mood and the feel of the moment.

Who is the one to instigate things? - aerith, initially. after that, whoever’s in the mood proper.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - again, this varies. sometimes you just need a quickie to shirk the stress. sometimes you want to light some candles, spread some flower petals, and make a night of it. they’re very in tune with each other and which end of that pendulum they’re swaying.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - absolutely.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - they adopt kids like an old widow adopts cats, though.

How many children will they adopt? - see above.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - they share! but if tifa is working, aerith will take over the duty primarily, no questions asked.

Who is the stricter parent? - honestly??? i feel like aerith.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - both. but they also both kind of ... influence ... it...

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - both!

Who is the more loved parent? - literally both.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - it’s a joint effort babEY

Who cried the most at graduation? - ugh aerith.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - tifa lmfao.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - aerith, if only because tifa is working :3

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - i imagine they’re both pretty laid back about it.

Who does the grocery shopping? - mostly aerith, but tifa comes along when she’s not busy.

How often do they bake desserts? - their house smells like flowers and sweets, thanks.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - an even balance.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - it’s a switch effort. they try to surprise each other, or if one is more stressed than the other it becomes a cheer-up effort.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - aerith. ms let’s go on an adventure.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - neither. they’re both pretty kitchen savvy.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - i imagine they’re both pretty tidy people. so it’s not something that needs a set list or time to do it. just a clean as you mess effort.

Who is really against chores? - neither.

Who cleans up after the pets? - both.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - neither lmao.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - i feel like? tifa does.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - tifa lmfao. it’s probably a tip from the bar, too, that fell out of her pocket ioshdf

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - tifa, because she has a lot of hair, y’feel?

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - both. it’s a nice excuse to go out together.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - every damn holiday. both. instigated by aerith.

What are their goals for the relationship? - to be those old women holding hands on the porch, watching their grandbabies tend the flowers.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - tifa. poor thing works night shifts.

Who plays the most pranks? - a e r i t h.

#❀ ﹙ answered ﹚ « tell me a secret and i'll keep it forever »#sweettifalockhart #❀ ﹙ tifa ﹚ « fists woven with flowers »

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ottorocket808 · 4 years

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Chapter Five: Dig Dug

Mike is a good friend but you don’t know that he can’t spy back.

Why are you still down here Hop what are you gonna do if something attempts to eat your face? Tickle it with bullets? And regular walkies don’t work in the Upside Down it’s an alternate dimension if you were paying attention instead of creepily staring at El maybe you would’ve stayed your stupid ass out of this hole. Hop you only have 6 shots this is one of the dumbest decisions I’ve seen him make. That looks like an inflamed butt hole. Doesn’t look like the Butt hole likes having a bright ass flashlight shined at it.

Nancy and Jonathan are cringy I can’t with them. How is askin if he can turn off the light deja vu? Nancy considering the fact that neither of you know about the shadow monster and the danger both of your brothers are in why would you say the world is about to end? Jonathan’s baby brother and yours were traumatized and you were more concerned with dating and even more than that if you really wanted to date Jonathan why did you drag Steve bac into this? That wasn’t fair to either guy.

Ewww what was that blac lookin stuff?? Yeah stupid this is what happens when you don’t have backup you end up trapped in the Upside Down with nobody knowing that anything is wrong.

Erica’s food is swimming in syrup somebody take away the buttersworth please. That was real believable Lucas.

This poor lady loves this cat. Justice for Mews!

Dart just got the shit knocked out of him.

He’s a nice guy not creepy at all the kind of trucker you want to find if you’re in trouble. Becky your niece is home.

Why doesn’t Jonathan remind Nancy of the potential downside? Steve told her as soon as she suggested telling Barbs parents. Jonathan is just following along not giving a damn about his mom or little brother.

They’re 13 year old children what do you think they’re gonna do? Lucas likes Max enough to break Rule of Law knowing that he could be banished from The Party that’s crazy considering he’s known her for less than a week.

Bob is so goofy you brought a sick kid brain teasers?Bob the Brain to the rescue.

Where did the bones come from? What else fell in here? Or got drug below

The Party knows better than to leave without their walkies poor Dustin gotta battle alone because Lucas is breaking code of law and Mike and Will never thought to turn it on because of whatever reason while Dustin and Lucas are still supposed to be looking for Dart.

Erica gets on my damn nerves stay out that boys room ain’t a damn thing in there for you this is why I can’t have a little sister the irritation it’s like a rash but this never would’ve happened if Lucas would’ve brought his walkie.

El is really good at avoiding questions she doesn’t want to answer. Becky faulty wiring doesn’t lead you like that. I wonder if Terry could always do that or if the experiment unlocked a part of her brain.

I wonder if Bob uses a pocket protector. You can’t rush cartography Joyce Bob doesn’t know it’s urgent plus for accuracy sake you should be a little more patient. Let’s go Bob you gotta move fast with this crew.

She’s been on the phone for over two hours?! Their phone bill is sky high. Ted feels useless like damn Ted Mr Clarke is more useful. Nancy isn’t even kind of at Ally’s y’all don’t verify this info? Why Steve? She should be apologizing not you she played with your heart not the other way around.

That was a well executed multi pronged sneak attack and what d’you mean wait that’s not how this works.

Pause Max ask yourself what part of this story made Lucas personally sound impressive? It shouldn’t take slapping your hand over someone’s mouth to get them to believe you. Prove it how Max? The Demogorgon is dead The Party thinks El is too and bringing you to the lab means that he could legitimately come up missing so how exactly is he supposed to prove it? Either you believe or you don’t.

They told him about everything except the fact that they all everybody who was involved signed confidentiality agreements basically saying that they agreed that the lab as well as the DOE had nothing to do with what happened last year that man knows who he said that to. When did he say my name is dr so and so and I work for the DOE there are thousands of ways around this. Except he didn’t admit culpability he literally says the men responsible are gone I inherited the mistake. All of what Nancy? Did all of what? You didn’t care at all until it was Barb that was missing and that was guilt this is guilt and you’d end up in jail playin with these people for real. Still doesn’t work on paper Barb is missing she ran away and no one will ever find her body to even say she died.

Becky you could’ve just folded that in half. Lol stop talking I appreciate the bluntness. Terry’s story is sad as hell she just wanted her daughter back.

Joyce and Bob the Brain to the rescue!!

I can’t tell if it that was a seizure or or crippling pain or both.

#justice for Mews #stranger things #strangerthings2 #Stranger Things #Stranger Things Season 2 #Chapter 5 #Dig Dug #hop is a traitor #jancy sucks #nancy is a horrible person

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novantinuum · 5 years

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: ~2K

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which everyone's panicking, and honestly Steven can't blame them.

First

Chapter 2: Knowing

Thankfully, they’re not alone when they warp into the temple. Pearl and Garnet are sitting at the counter, caught mid conversation, and Amethyst is flopped lazily across the couch with her arm hanging over the edge. Still shivering, Steven clings ever tighter to Bismuth’s arm, glancing with tear stained eyes between his Gem self and Garnet, the only one in his direct line of sight.

She shoots to her feet. Her mouth twists into an expression laced with more raw panic than he’s ever seen her convey in his life, and that thought alone hurts enough to shoot a physical pang through his nerves.

“Steven! Bismuth!"

“Ah, there you are,” Pearl greets amicably, and begins to turn to face the warp pad. “We were wondering where yo- oh good heavens!!"

“Dude...” Amethyst says as she shoots upright on the couch, her face turning a paler shade of purple.

He feels Bismuth’s form grow tense at their now inescapable attention, her fingers wrapping around his prone body just a little bit tighter. The pink clone generated by his gemstone glitches, the edges of his hard-light form morphing to fuzzy static that phases in and out of shape. Simultaneously, Steven winces at the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles tingling through his limbs.

Any and all shell-shocked confusion dies at the unquestionable sight of a cracked Gem. His family rushes across the room to the warp pad in no more than a nanosecond flat, their shrill, panicked voices and Bismuth’s overlapping each other until he can barely pick out what any one of them is saying. His ears begin to ring. More arms than his disoriented senses can count dance under his back, and before long a thick blanket is wrapped around him, (is that his entire bedspread?), and he finds himself secure in Garnet’s hold, halfway across the room by the loft stairs. Safe! Admitting it leaves his stomach gnawing with nausea, because it feels so much like a blatant betrayal against the forgiving, accepting person he aspires to be, but it’s a relief to no longer be in the mercy of Bismuth’s grasp.

The Gems continue to fuss and argue about goodness knows what, their faces blurring in and out of focus as the seconds tick on. Notably, Pearl’s voice rises above all the others. She kneels next to Other Steven, wrapping her arm protectively around him. (He may be imagining it, but he swears he can feel the phantom whispers of her touch on his own shoulder.) He’s mostly gotten used to that baseline dull ache left behind in place of his gemstone by now, but whenever his counterpart’s form flickers and warps due to the crack that’s no doubt splayed across the rose quartz’s surface, that ache spikes into sensations uncomfortable enough to make his toes curl. If this is the pain he’s able to feel without his gem altogether, then what kind of agony is Other Steven in? His eyes brim with hot, sloppy tears, a sharp whimper passing his lips. The others are far too busy arguing to notice.

“—took him to the lower forge alone?? What were you thinking? It’s far too hot for him down there!”

Bismuth pales. “I’m- I honestly didn’t think about—“

“‘Kay, but literally none of this explains this freaky clone action,” Amethyst butts in, jutting her finger towards the pink Steven standing motionless in Pearl’s embrace. “Somehow he split entirely apart from his gem, so—“

“Enough!” Garnet says. One of her hands gently strokes his forehead, a stark difference from the impatience etched within the tension in her face. “This entire conversation is irrelevant, we should be—“

“Y'guys,” he croaks, but they're all so caught up in argument that he's brushed right over, which... kinda hurts. A lot.

“—how can he fuse with his gem half again if he’s completely hu—“

Pearl bristles. “It is not irrelevant, something terrible’s happened and Bismuth hasn’t explained herself!”

“Pearl, I’m trying, but you won’t—“

“I don’t care how any of it happened!” Garnet roars. Even though it’s not directed at him, he flinches at the harshness of her anger. “His gem is cracked!!”

The room falls silent.

He nuzzles his head into the crook of her arm, feeling ever safer in her embrace. "Thank you," he whispers. She responds with a gentle squeeze.

To his side, Bismuth squirms a little, nervously folding her hands together and apart over and over...

“This is all my fault,” she says brokenly. He’s almost positive there’s tears budding at the corners of her eyes.

“This isn’t about us,” Garnet says, more sensitively this time. “This is about helping Steven.” Then, in a whisper only for him: “Hold on. You’re gonna be all right, I promise.”

Steven gets the sense this comment is more for her benefit than his. He’s unsure if that should scare him or not.

(How many futures has she just watched where he di- No, he thinks. Not going there, nope nope nope.)

Amethyst hobbles up onto the warp pad then, urgently gesturing for everyone else to join her. “Well come on, no time to waste, yeah? We gotta get the two Stevens to Rose’s fountain!”

The other Gems agree readily, and follow behind. Bismuth’s steps are stiff and stilted. Meanwhile, Pearl leads his quiet pink counterpart by the hand, assisting him up the stairs of the warp amid his glitching. Out of everyone, the blank shock written clear as day across her face suggests she’s especially haunted by the existence of that hard-light version of himself. More so than everyone else. Carefully regarding her as Garnet carries him— still wrapped like a burrito— in his blanket, Steven can’t help but wonder why.

The warp activates, enveloping them in its glow. In seconds, they’re all coursing through the warp stream at record speed. One thing he knows for sure: he’s super glad he has his bedspread with him, because this strange little pocket of space hung between dimensions has a knack for being chilly, especially outside of the stream. It’d suck to start shivering again right after finally settling down.

Reassuringly, the promise of sunrise greets him in vibrant stripes of pink and orange as they promptly arrive at their location. It‘s night back in Beach City, but he’s pretty sure Mom’s fountain is somewhere in Europe. Maybe France? So, the sunrise makes sense. Large trees and shrubs block out the horizon in every direction, growing wild without constant nurturing. Still, it all looks leagues nicer (and infinitely less threatening) than the first time he came here. A spike of tingling runs up his nerves, reminding him that unfortunately, with his gem cracked, (and still no clue how he split apart from it in the first place), now’s no time to waste sightseeing. His chest tightens as he suddenly realizes he’s missing one crucial family member. One family member he— even if it’s a bit of a childish thought— really wants holding his hand right about now.

“Wait, I need Dad,” he speaks up, voice hoarse and shaky.

Garnet hugs him closer to her chest at that admission. She presses her forehead against his, whispering some reassurance he can’t quite catch.

“Amethyst, go back and fetch Greg,” Pearl says. “You can meet us at the fountain.”

She nods, for once not even arguing with her orders. “On it."

Her long white hair ripples in waves behind her as she sprints back to the warp pad. Soon enough, he spots a column of cyan light shooting up into the sky. His fingers knead the edge of the blanket he's wrapped in, desperately trying to keep his mind from entertaining all the worst possible outcomes. It's becoming harder to ignore his pink double's suffering, even though he's remained near-silent this whole time. Anyways, he really, really hopes she'll be back with his dad soon.

Steven's attention returns to the others, and he watches as Pearl’s eyes narrow slightly, her glance sliding back to Bismuth. “When all this is over, we’ll be discussing things like upholding sleep curfews, practical safety tactics, and the key differences between Gem and human anatomy.“

Her brow tightly creasing, she smooths out the front of her apron. “Yup. Received and understood.”

“We’d also appreciate more context on how all this happened in the first place,” Garnet says, gesturing between him and the Other Steven hand-in-hand with the tall, salmon haired Gem.

Without any other forewarning, Other Steven’s previously glassy expression snaps into alertness. “Breaking point,” he blurts out for the first time since the forge, tone flat. “Bismuth cracked me—“ a particularly violent glitch overwhelms the stability of his hard-light body, his words fragmenting— “htiw a gnikaerb tniop.”

The strength of Garnet’s hold on him triples, as if in her fury she’s unintentionally forgotten about how she’s carrying him in the first place. He winces, totally not thinking about how he’s watched her poof corruptions by squeezing them. Nope, nosiree, not at all.

“Uh, Garnet?”

“She did what??!” Pearl says, whirling towards the individual in question.

“Okay, okay!” Bismuth backs a few steps away, terror curling across her face at the sight of her looming anger. “So I know it sounds bad, and well, it kinda is, but I swear if you give me the chance to I’ll expla—“

“NO!”

The stone pathway splinters under the hard-light Steven’s feet as he yells, tipping everyone off balance. Pearl and Bismuth stumble and fall. Garnet takes a knee, and somehow avoids dropping him. Around them, a handful of frail limbs on a nearby tree crack and collapse to the ground. Bewildered and genuinely frightened by this display, Steven desperately locks eyes with the other him, watching his form endlessly warp and morph and flicker into impossible shapes. For a fragment of a second he swears his double’s irises flare hot pink.

“You TRUH mih!” Other Steven shouts at Bismuth, his fury pinning her in her spot, even in garbled phrases. “Uoy deirt ot RETTAHS—“

He disappears with a poof of smoke, retreating into the rose quartz gem. His gem. Immediately all phantom pains recede, settling back into that dull emptiness sitting in the pit of his stomach. For but a heartbeat, the gemstone remains airborne, its facets glittering in the glow of the morning sun. It’s big, larger than even seems possible, the exposed pentagonal surface only counting for a fraction of its full size. Somehow hidden within him this whole time, the sides of the pink gem flare outward and jut into a steep point. Pearl audibly gasps, slamming both hands over her mouth. Garnet and Bismuth recoil at the sight.

Then gravity asserts control, and it tumbles down, down, careening towards the hard stone like dead weight. Before it can shatter entirely on the ground, Pearl dives with the finesse of a polished gymnast, catching the gem and clutching it tight to her chest as if to obscure it from the others.

“Pearl?” Steven croaks.

Her face is white as milk, and her slight frame is shuddering. “You were never supposed to...”

“B-but this doesn’t make sense! That wasn’t- you’re not a rose quartz,” Bismuth stutters, carefully standing to her feet. His stomach sinks at the accusation, his brow furrowing with confusion. “That gemstone, it’s—“

In all the years to come, he doubts he’ll ever forget the visceral fear laced within Garnet’s whisper, fear not for him, but of him:

“—it’s Pink Diamond.”

Notes:

Cracked/glitching Gem Steven's dialogue, for ease of reading:

“Breaking point. Bismuth cracked me with a breaking point.”

“NO! You HURT him! You tried to SHATTER—“

Basically, he was in such poor shape that he retreated back into his gem (in an futile attempt) to heal. He was exerting far too much energy there in his anger, poor thing.

Note, none of the CGs actually suspected Bismuth intentionally hurt Steven until that bombshell. Before that, their assumption was that she took him on a lil' midnight sightseeing trip and he got cracked/split by accident. I figure they'd have no reason to suspect any foul play before that.

And Gem Steven... he finally spoke up when he had information of relevance to add to the conversation. Garnet outright requested more context on how the two Stevens split, gesturing towards him as she did, and so he told her. The argument in the temple was more of an argument about him, and not including him, so he remained quiet. And then later, he's calling Bismuth the heck out on her attempt at squirreling away from the blame. He's... very, very protective of his other half.

#su #steven universe #su fanfiction #su fanfic #garnet #pearl #amethyst #bismuth #my writing stuff #crack the paragon

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banshee1013 · 5 years

Text

For Science!

Next in the Looking Glass series... set in the @familybrpg universe, to where I discover some consequences of my previous visit and Castiel has some ideas to try... For Science!

*******************************************************************************************

Bright sunlight filtered through my bedroom window. My eyes fluttered open, then squinted against the light.

I rolled over to get a glance at the clock. Huh, almost 10 AM. I'd been asleep for almost twelve hours. That's gotta be a record for me. Good thing it was Sunday…

I took a closer look at the clock. At the date.

OH SHIT.

It was MONDAY. And I was a good THREE HOURS LATE for work!

Not twelve hours - almost THIRTY-TWO.

I jumped out of bed to grab my phone and call the boss - and promptly fell on my ass as a wave of dizziness knocked me to the floor, and my stomach lurched.

Yeah, so I guess work wasn't happening today. I crawled to the charger - SLOWLY - and grabbed my phone. As long as I didn't move too fast, I could keep the dizziness and nausea at bay, and my eyes to focus on the screen. I shot an email off to the boss telling him I was sick and apologizing for the late notice before collapsing back to the floor.

What the ever-loving FUCK.

A few more minutes of laying there and I was able to rise to a sitting position. A few minutes more and I was standing. The dizziness and nausea faded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I could *finally* go downstairs and make some coffee. I might be able to actually THINK after that.

Ten minutes later, a steaming cup of French-pressed Lion coffee in my hands, I opened Twitter and opened a DM.

I had to talk to Sam.

***********************************

@redbanshee: Hey Sam… are you there?

@ItSam1983: Hi Celi… err, Cee. How are you?

@redbanshee: Um, I'm not sure. I just woke up.

@ItSam1983: Well, it's, what… around 10:30 AM your time? Is that unusually late for you?

@ItSam1983: I mean, it would be for me, but… Dean's still asleep… :/

@redbanshee: Sorry, I didn't make myself clear - I JUST woke up. Like, since the LAST TIME WE TALKED.

@ItSam1983: Hold on… are you saying you've been asleep for… an entire DAY?

@redbanshee: Yeah, longer actually - about a day and a half.

@redbanshee: … and I don't know why.

@ItSam1983: Hey, Cas just walked in. Let me get him in a GC, he might know what's going on.

… oh god. Castiel.

I'm finally going to talk to the angel. Thank every single holy thing that it's only through chat.

I can always erase any idiot thing I type before sending it.

@ItSam1983: Hey Cas. Got it figured out?

@_iamCastiel: Hello, Sam. Yes, I have figured out how to use this… chat? Is that what you called it?

@ItSam1983: Yeah, group chat. Cas, this is my friend, Celina. She has a question you might have an answer to.

@_iamCastiel: Of course. Hello, Celina. How may I help?

@redbanshee: Uh, hi Castiel. It's nice to meet you… well, talk to you anyway. I didn't get to see you when I was there last time and I…

Goddammit shut up you friggin' idiot!

So much for erasing before I type…

@_iamCastiel: Sam and Dean told me about your visit. I am very sad I was not here to witness it, the process sounds fascinating. I would like to study it more if you don't mind.

Sad he missed me?? OMGOMGOMG

Ok, pull it together. It's not you, it's your little trick he's interested in.

Deep breath…

@redbanshee: That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about… well, I actually talked to Sam first and he thought you might know…

DEEP FUCKING BREATH, IDIOT.

@redbanshee: I just slept for over a day.

@redbanshee: And I was very dizzy and nauseous as well, at first.

@redbanshee: But I seem to be ok now.

@_iamCastiel: If I were to guess… and I am… I would say you're suffering from some form of temporal sickness, for lack of a better term.

@_iamCastiel: Travelling between dimensions… universes, if you will… places stress upon your physical form.

@_iamCastiel: Do you have any external damage?

@redbanshee: Not that I noticed. Maybe a bruise on my butt when I fell down at first but…

No. NO I DID NOT JUST TALK ABOUT MY BUTT…

@_iamCastiel: That is good, at least. So your body was unscathed, but your mind noticed the difference and reacted poorly. You were unprepared for the shift.

@redbanshee: But… I checked the time when I got back - three hours had passed, both there and here. So, not like when you go to Heaven, or Hell - no time dilation.

@redbanshee: and traveling to the Alternate Universe to save Mary and Jack didn't seem to affect you, Sam, or Dean… unless they just didn't cover that on the show or something…

@ItSam1983: Oh, believe me, we were affected afterward. All the AU hunters that came through were as well.

@ItSam1983: … but not as much as you were. Only a couple of hours, if I remember right.

@_iamCastiel: Sam, you and Dean, and the hunters from the other universe were protected from most of the 'side effects' by the spell Rowena cast to open the rift, as well as the Grace from Lucifer used to power the spell. Celina, if I understand correctly, you came through the rift unprotected?

@redbanshee: If by "unprotected" you mean, I more or less WILLED my way through? Yeah.

@redbanshee: I didn't even know it would work, let alone know how to… protect myself.

@redbanshee: I mean, I didn't even bring a weapon because I was coming to the Bunker and meeting Dean who would have killed anything that showed up and what's gonna show up at the Bunker anyway unless it has a death wish or something…

AAAAHHHRRGH.

I swear I could hear Sam laughing at me right now, over Twitter.

Oh no, and Cas is probably laughing at me too… uggghhhhh…

@_iamCastiel: Yes, it was rather foolhardy… but I understand that in some things, the only way to know if it can be done is to do it. Thankfully, you were not permanently injured.

@_iamCastiel: And in fact, I might have a solution.

@ItSam1983: A solution? To what?

@_iamCastiel: To protect her from the effects of the temporal shift - in a similar fashion to Lucifer's Grace providing some protection for you and Dean.

@_iamCastiel: Celina, if you are willing - I would like to perform an experiment to see if my solution will work.

@redbanshee: Like, right now?

@_iamCastiel: If possible, yes. I am quite eager to try it out.

No way am I going to finally meet Castiel, Gorgeous Angel of the Friggin' LORD, smelling as awful as I'm sure I did right now.

… FOR GOD'S SAKE DO NOT MENTION TAKING A SHOWER…

@redbanshee: I really need to take a shower first… say a half hour from now?

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE…

@redbanshee: Uh… what about Dean? You know how he is - if he finds out how much it affected me, he'll be really pissed if I kept doing it…

@ItSam1983: Don't worry about Dean, he, uh… "released the Kraken" last night, so he'll be out for a while yet.

I really DO NOT want to contemplate the idea of Dean 'releasing the Kraken'…

@redbanshee: Ok, gimme a half hour. I'll DM you when I'm ready to come through.

***************************************

A half hour later (or so, don't judge), I was clean, dry, and refreshed.

And nervous as hell. Not just from worry over suffering a repeat of the temporal sickness.

But because I was meeting Cas.

I'm being ridiculous. He's perfectly nice. A real sweetie by all accounts.

He wanted to PROTECT ME.

OK, yes, my heart fluttered. SUE ME.

**************************************

@redbanshee: Hey Sam? I'm ready when you are.

@ItSam1983: OK. We'll meet you outside the Bunker door, same place you met Dean before.

@redbanshee: Sounds good. See you in a jif.

*************************************

I stood in front of the mirror and cleared my mind. Envisioned the Bunker door, the smell of the gravel and dirt before it. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind on the nearby trees.

I stepped through the mirror and into the early afternoon Kansas sunlight.

*******************************************************************************************

Sam's great bear hug was the first thing that greeted me.

"That was incredible!" he exclaimed in delight. "The air just seemed to briefly shimmer, and then I saw something that looked like… a desk? And a futon? Purple walls…? And then you just popped through… "

I couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, my spare bedroom. And I keep that mirror behind closed doors until I plan to use it - I have recurring nightmares of something walking back through it when I'm not looking…"

"Understandable… but highly unlikely." A deep voice rumbled from behind Sam's broad back.

My breath caught. Cas.

I peered hesitantly around Sam.

Cas stood quietly, hands in the ubiquitous trench coat pockets.

A warm smile lit his face, and bright blue eyes danced.

He was everything I imagined, and so much more.

Sam smiled and shifted over to stand next to me. "Cas, this is Celina. Cee, Cas."

"H-h-hi," I stammered like a moron, unable to peel my eyes away from his, drowning in that blue. Frozen in place.

Sam gave me a gentle shove in his direction, breaking my reverie. I approached, hand outthrust.

Cas removed his hands from his pockets as I approached, but instead of grasping my outstretched hand, he ignored it in favor of laying his hands gently on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length.

"Sam has often explained to me that hugging is preferable in these situations," he said calmly, before moving his hands to my back and pulling me against his broad chest.

My arms fluttered helplessly at my sides.

"This is where you hug back…" he said in a soft voice, chin brushing the top of my head.

My arms tentatively wrapped around his waist, and he squeezed.

I squeezed back.

He smelled like… cinnamon. And salt. And ozone, like a lightning bolt shot through a clear summer day.

It was, literally… divine.

It lasted forever and ended all too soon. He released me, and then promptly raised a palm toward my forehead…

"Hey Cas, hold up!" Sam interjected. Cas shot him a confused look, blue eyes squinting.

"You should probably explain *what* you plan on doing first, right?"

Cas backed away, eyes dropping. "Of course. My apologies."

I plucked at his sleeve to get his attention. "Hey, it's ok." He met my eyes and I smiled into them. "But yes, I'm curious as to what your 'solution' is…"

"I plan to imbue you with a small portion of my Grace." he said, matter-of-factly.

Like, no big deal. Just here, have some angel Grace.

"As I explained during our Twitter conversation, Rowena's spell used Lucifer's Grace to power the portal. This also caused whoever passed through the portal to be imbued with a small portion of that Grace as well, which I believe protected them from the temporal shift." His brow furrowed slightly. "While I am merely a Seraph, not an Archangel, I am not sure exactly how much protection my Grace will give you… but I expect it will at least protect you from some of the effects you have experienced."

I let that sink in for a minute. "'Imbue'? What exactly does that mean?" I thought about it more, and interjected as he was about to speak, "and I've already come through the…portal. Isn't the damage already done?"

"No. Coming from your universe to ours causes you no harm since you have direct access to your native… power, for lack of a better word. Your belief, that which powers the portal for you, surrounds you there. But when you return, you're having to pull that power, that belief, from this universe before the portal opens and you can access your native power again through the open portal. This is where the damage occurs - having to use power that is not native to you to open the portal."

I give him a slow blink. "Ooookay…so how does your Grace help in this situation?"

"My Grace will provide a buffer - it will ease your access to the power here so it is not as much of a strain"

"And now long will the protection last… how many trips do I get out of each shot of Angel Juice?"

Cas shrugged. "Hence the need for experimentation." He leveled his gaze at me. "But it is very likely the 'angel juice' as you put it will only last for a single trip."

I winced - both at the one-trip-per-angel-juice-shot prospect… and at my crass use of "angel juice" when referring to ANGELIC GRACE.

To the ANGEL PROVIDING IT.

I hesitantly glanced back up at him, expecting him to be frowning at me for my insolence.

But instead, a small grin teased at the corners of his mouth. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Sam seemed to take the sigh as concern or disappointment on my part. "But, we also figure that you'll only need this protection a couple of times," he interjected quickly. "The more you come through, the easier it will be for you to access and use the power here." He shrugged. "At least, that's what we hope."

I nodded at him, then turned back to Cas.

"Ok, I'm game. How do we do this, then?"

No sooner had the words left my lips, Cas had placed a palm on my forehead.

I had a brief moment of thought, a hasty memory of those old evangelical shows my mom used to watch, where the preacher would place a palm on some poor sap's head and squeal "BE HEEEEEAAAALLLED!".

A nervous giggle escaped at the thought.

Cas' lips pursed in concentration, his eyes flashed an incandescent blue… and a jolt of electrical current flashed against my forehead, surging down my arms and legs with sparks like static electricity and a bright flash behind my eyes…

*****************************************

"Cee… Hey, kiddo.. c'mon, talk to me!"

Dean's voice, soft and worried, coming from the darkness. A pinprick of dim light appeared in the distance and I tried to focus on it. As I did, it grew larger, brighter, and I moved toward it.

Warm hands on either side of my face, head cushioned on plush fabric, body suspended on soft firmness…

A bed. With a pillow. Infirmary in the Bunker.

My eyes opened and met wide green ones… Dean.

His sigh of relief brushed across my face… a faint hint of whiskey. I smiled. Of course, whiskey. I could use some of that right now, I thought…

His fingers tensed against my left cheek, gentle pats against my right.

"Hey, there you are…" The green eyes softened… then narrowed and hardened before looking up and over to something… someone… unseen over my right shoulder.

"What the HELL were you thinking, Cas?" he growled, starting to rise from the sitting position on the bed next to me.

I reached up to grab his arm, holding him down and still blinking a bit to bring him back into focus as my eyes readjusted to…well, seeing again. "Dean… it's ok. I'm ok." Twisted my head around to follow his gaze - Cas, sitting on the bed next to me. Meeting Dean's hardened stare with a squint and head tilt.

"Dean…" Sam's voice, coming from the foot of the bed.

Dean pointed back at his brother, eyes not leaving Cas. "Zip it. I'll deal with you later."

"OH for… shit's sake!" Censoring the g-word has become a force of habit recently, in light of events on this side of the mirror. Sitting up, I tugged harder on Dean's arm, pulling his attention away from Cas and encountering the full force of that glower.

"I'm. Fine." Enunciating the words slowly to drive home the point, to de-escalate the situation. Met that scowl head-on with one of my own. I turned to Sam. "How long was I out?"

"Only a few minutes…"

"ONLY…" Dean barked. I punched his arm.

Sighing, his eyes closed. "Fine. Someone want to explain to me what the hell *happened*?"

"We were attempting an experiment designed to mitigate the effects of Celina's passage through the portal back to her world…" Cas started.

"Effects?" Dean interjected, cutting him off. Turning back to me, "WHAT effects?"

"Nothing too bad, " I said nonchalantly, keeping my features neutral - or at least I hoped I was.

"The exertion of power necessary to return exhausted her, causing her to remain asleep for over a day…" Cas started, then stopped, puzzled, at my audible groan. My hands covered my face as I felt the force of his focus return to me.

"WHAT? An *entire day*… and you came BACK?" Dean's voice sounded more incredulous than angry.

"Well.…yeah?" I lowered my hands and shrugged. "Cas wanted to try out his idea."

"Oh… holy shit, I didn't even think…," Sam groaned, grimacing. "You must be STARVING…" As if to prove his point, an audible rumble emitted from my stomach.

I laughed. "Yeah, I could do with a bite. Can we pick this up in the kitchen while someone makes me a sandwich or something?"

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, both Cas and Dean rising to either side to assist. I brushed them off but as my hand brushed Cas', a blue-white spark flew from my hand to his, accompanied by an audible *pop* and the smell of ozone.

I jumped back with a yelp of surprise, as Sam and Dean flinched in response. Cas nodded, frowning. Not surprised, as if expecting the reaction, but still unhappy about it.

"What the hell…" Dean's eyes shot from me and back to Cas, then sighed, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm getting REALLY TIRED of asking that question."

"I'll explain in the kitchen," Cas said mildly. Turning to me, "I suggest avoiding skin-to-skin contact for now."

*************************************

I wolfed down the sandwich Sam made for me and listened as Cas explained the nature of the experiment to Dean.

"So let me get this straight - you shot her up with ANGEL JUICE? With no idea how it might affect her?" Dean exclaimed.

I choked on the bite of sandwich, and Sam patted my back as I took a gulp of beer to chase it down.

Cas rolled his eyes, whether at the second use of "angel juice" today or Dean's outburst, who could tell.

"There was no way to anticipate the reaction. There is very little difference between what I did to her and what I've done to both you and Sam to heal your injuries." His eyes squinted. "A small increase in exertion, at most."

"So what's causing the… static discharge?" Sam inquired. "That's never happened after you've healed us, no matter how much force or whatever you've used."

I turned questioning eyes to Cas, grunting in agreement around a mouth still full of sandwich. Hey, it was good and I was hungry.

"I can only guess that it is has something to do with you being from another universe," he said, directing the answer at me. "A universe with apparently no angels, no previous exposure to Grace."

I swallowed and took a breath. "I still don't understand what happened to me. Did the… imbuing or whatever… fail?" I turned to Sam. "In fact, what exactly happened? I saw a flash of light and the next thing I know, I'm in that bed with Dean trying to crush my skull."

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. I grinned toothily at him. He shook his head, turning away but not before I caught a twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"When Cas used his Grace on you, you seemed to… light up, for a minute. It looked like instead of going into you, it… I dunno, seemed to *envelope* you, like if it were hitting a barrier or something." Sam explained, brows furrowed as he searched for the words. "And suddenly, it was like you… *absorbed* it, like a sponge." He shrugged apologetically. "And then you passed out. Thankfully, Cas caught you before you hit the ground."

I stared, wide-eyed. "So I have to assume that's not what usually happens."

"No," Sam continued. "There's a glow but it's focused at the site of the injury, and then it's gone when Cas turns it off."

I turned to Cas, unnerved by Sam’s explanation. "So do you have any idea what your Grace did to me?"

"My Grace hasn't done anything TO you, " he clarified. "You've merely STORED it."

"What, are you saying she's a… a friggin’ *Grace Battery*?" Dean sputtered.

Cas considered the analogy. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

****************************************

"Ok, well, I guess I should head back and see if the experiment worked…" I said, tossing the empty paper plate from my sandwich in the trash. I drained the bottle of beer and it joined the paper plate.

Jack, who had joined us in the kitchen after hearing the commotion, sighed, his shoulders drooping. "But you *just* got here!" he said plaintively.

I sat next to him at the kitchen table, placing an arm over his shoulders and squeezing - very carefully, avoiding any direct skin contact. "Actually, I've been here almost as long as I was last time, you just missed most of it." I glanced at Cas and Sam. "For the experiment to be accurate, I should only spend about the same amount of time here as I did last time."

Cas and Sam nodded in agreement, and the five of us rose and headed toward the gym and the mirrors there.

Outside the gym, we paused and I turned to say my goodbyes.

"Let us know when you get back." Sam reminded me, with a cautious hug.

Good thing I only came up to the top of his flannel-covered ribcage. I gave his waist a big squeeze. "Of course, first thing."

"And you report *anything* off, or unusual…" Dean commanded, pulling me into an equally careful hug as Sam released me.

I breathed an exasperated sigh into his chest. "Yes, Dean, you'll be the first to know." Pulling back, I grinned into the green eyes, and he gave me a wink.

Another quick hug for Jack. "Goodbye," he sighed, then perked up. "and next time, we can go back with you, right? So we can go to Disneyland?"

I smiled and pat his shoulder. "I hope so. Still have some experimentation to do first." I glanced over his shoulder meaningfully at Sam, who nodded.

Dean caught the look and frowned, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to - I got the message.

Be careful.

Lastly, I turned to Cas.

I was still awed by him, timid. Startling blue eyes met mine and I felt like he was looking right through me, could read every thought.

I really hoped not, because that would be SO embarrassing.

"Th-thank you, Cas." I managed to stammer out. "It was… so amazing to finally meet you."

Placing hands on my shoulders, he once again held me at arm's length. "It was… amazing… to meet you as well." he said solemnly.

Then a bright smile lit his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. I felt the warmth of that gaze like a bright beam of summer sun. "It was my pleasure. I'm very interested to see if our experiment worked." He pulled me into a hug, and this time I didn't need to be prompted to hug back.

"Cas?"

He released me, eyes questioning. I stepped back, looking down at my hands. I swore I could see faint blue sparks running over them… or was it my imagination?

"Am I going… will I be able to touch anyone back home?"

He smiled reassuringly. "I suspect the Grace will go dormant as soon as you cross the threshold into your world." Sam nodded in agreement. "Magic didn't work there, so it would be very surprising if Grace did."

"And I just need it on this side as a buffer, right." I rolled my shoulders, moved my neck side to side, loosening up, preparing for the transition home.

With a final wave goodbye, I turned and started toward the doorway to the gym. I began the process of envisioning my house - the feel of the carpet, the color and brightness of the bedroom overhead lights…

I reached the doorway, and opened the door -

And walked right into the doorway of my spare bedroom.

I grinned.

I didn't need mirrors anymore.

*******************************************************************************************

No sooner had I stopped on the other side of my spare bedroom doorway, my phone started to buzz with incoming messages. I fired up Twitter.

@DWImpala67: Cee?

@DWImpala67: CEE?? Are you ok??

@ItSam1983: Celina! What happened? Did you make it?

@ItSam1983: You just… disappeared!

@redbanshee: Hey guys, it's OK! I'm fine!

@redbanshee: I guess the Grace… I don't seem to need the mirror anymore…

@_iamCastiel: That is an interesting development.

@DWImpala67: Oh thank… Good. That's good.

@DWImpala67: And, way to understate things there, Cas.

@ItSam1983: I'm just glad you're ok. That was… unnerving to see.

@redbanshee: Oh… oh no, did Jack see? Is he OK? Let him know I'm fine!

@ItSam1983: Jack's fine. In fact, he was positive you were ok.

@ItSam1983: Almost as if he could see you, or sense you or something.

@_iamCastiel: I was also able to sense your safe arrival.

@_iamCastiel: I believe it's the Grace - even though it is dormant…

@_iamCastiel: Is it dormant? Have you touched anyone yet?

@redbanshee: No, not yet. No one is home right now.

@redbanshee: What about my cats? That would be the same, right?

@_iamCastiel: If the Grace is still active, it should react the same with any living creature.

@redbanshee: Ok hold on, let me go find one of the jerks.

@redbanshee: OK, I pet the cat, no sparks or anything, so I guess it's dormant.

@redbanshee: I'll test again on my daughter when she gets home… very carefully!

@redbanshee: But even though it's dormant, you can still… detect it… me?

@_iamCastiel: I can sense its presence. I can tell that its… not here, but elsewhere.

@_iamCastiel: Jack can as well.

@IAmCalledJack: Hello! Cas is right, I can sense his Grace, in you.

@IAmCalledJack: You're so far away :(

@redbanshee: Huh… well, I guess I won't be able to sneak over there anymore…

@DWImpala67: Wait… you've been sneaking over here?

@ItSam1983: And not telling us?

@redbanshee: NO! Of course not… when have I had the time?

@redbanshee: I SLEPT for an entire day and a half since you last saw me, remember?

@redbanshee: But now I really *can't*… can I?

@_IAmCastiel: Sam and Dean would be unable to detect your presence here should you cross over without informing them.

@_IAmCastiel: Only Jack and I are able to do so.

@DWImpala67: CAS. NOT HELPING.

@DWImpala67: Don't even think about coming over here alone, missy.

@ItSam1983: Yeah, what Dean said. No experimenting without us!

@redbanshee: FINE, fine. Spoilsports.

@redbanshee: I’m a big girl, y'know. I have a sword and everything!

@DWImpala67: Just… don't, ok? Please?

@DWImpala67: For me?

@redbanshee: OK, Dean. For you.

@ItSam1983: So how do you feel? Last time when you got back, you were very tired…

@redbanshee: Actually, I feel pretty good. Not tired at all.

@_IAmCastiel: But, to be prudent, we should wait to see how you feel tomorrow before pronouncing the experiment a success.

@redbanshee: Right, makes sense.

@redbanshee: OK guys, I've had an eventful day. I think I'm gonna go do something mundane, like read a book or something.

@redbanshee: Or maybe watch that show about your lives…

@DWImpala67: GROAN.

@redbanshee: HAHA! Sorry, Dean.

@redbanshee: Love you!

@DWImpala67: I know. :)

#dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #fic #LookingGlass

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